#Happy Mother's day! To the mums and those without one this year <3< /div>
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Omg idk if you talk Spanish or if itâs just XXC, but with that little and wonderful doodle you gave me the amazing headcanon of XXC being bilingual and just randomly speaking Spanish out of nowhere and nobody understanding him
[TL: XXC says "don't do coke in the bathroom"]
Shout out to the Spanish speaking MXTX fans. I don't think this is remotely what you wanted. (bonus below cut, TW: Drugs)
#poorly drawn mdzs#mdzs#xiao xingchen#xue yang#Ask#bonus comic#I'm not confident enough in my Spanish to really integrate bilingual XXC into the comic#but I love the enthusiasm and there are at least two ppl leaving spanish tags on my comics so...its soft canon here.#if spanish speakers want to throw good spanish memes at me for xxc I will do my best B*)#Maybe he transmigrated and tried to turn the tides of the story but met a even worse fate....#I like to think he teaches Song Lan Spanish to have a secret language like the SVSSS transmigrators with (broken) English.#The bonus joke here is that it doesn't matter what language the sign is in. XY can't read. He has severe dyslexia#Its not even real coke its just sugar. He's about to have a dreadful time. But the TW is just for the visuals#EDIT: THE QUEUE BROKE and I was outside with my hands in the dirt digging (around) tubers for my mum's garden. So i didn't notice#Happy Mother's day! To the mums and those without one this year <3
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Coached
Chapter 4.5
When Mr Davidson had last seen his son, he was happy knowing that his Coach was shaping him into a proper man by finally packing on some weight onto the kid, he didn't even realise how much happier he was going to be only a couple of months later when Axel returned for spring break to see it stuck. Growing up Axel couldnât have been any different from his parents, stick thin and dead set on running, he had been a far cry from Mr Davidson morbidly obese self , they had shared very few interests and even less common ground but that was now a far-cry from the son that was returning from college. It seemed to My Davidson that whatever Coach was doing to Axel, he had�� finally talked some sense into him and turned him into a man that mirrored his own 400lb self, and now Mr Davidson was now reaping the benefits. All spring break Mr Davison walked with a skip in his step knowing his returning to a house where he and Axel would finally spend hours together watching TV and cracking beers, he had gotten a glimpse of it over winter break and he was glad to see it was a permeant feature. Yes, his son was turning into a proper man.Â
Mrs Davidson couldnât have been even more over the moon, when she had gotten the call telling her to cook big from her husband as he picked up their son from the airport. For years she watched Axel graze past her meals often opting out of her lovely cooked meals, she nearly scared herself to death thinking about Axel wasting away at uni, but now those fears had been long whisked away she she whisked her signature creamy buttery potatoes. And she certainly couldn't have been more glad when the large man following behind her husband as he entered their home turned into Axel as she recognised his good looks properly framed with the extra pounds he packed on since Winter and was now in dire need of a long mother-son shopping trip by the look of the tight clothes he was sporting. Yes, her son was turning into a proper manÂ
Axel didnât get all the commotion he was getting since he had come home, but he knew he wouldnât trade it for anything. His mother poured her love out to him in plates and plates of food and his dad seemed to always know a new buffet that they had to try out. It was perfect, and over the next 3 weeks it was bliss, college had grown so tiresome having to leave the frat for lectures and the canteen but here he didnât even need to leave the couch all day. He would lumper downstairs for a big hearty breakfast cooked fresh and packed high with good greasy grub, pass out on the couch and raid the fridge at lunch, for whatever his mother had prepared - some days it would be whole lasagnas others were meaty thick subs. Then came the long stretch to dinner, where it was a race to outcompete his dad for food on the table and then finally he would cap his days out, with his dad both with their guts exposed in the loungewear as they watched the game on the couch . Axel could find nothing to complain about it was perfect, at home he spent the whole day in his underpants and when he belched loudly after meals and let out gas after he felt no shame, in fact his dad even encouraged him, it was like heavenÂ
By the time Spring break was over Axel could count the number of times he left the house on of his fingers, every invitation he received had been declined too lazy to stick to plans and much preferring the couch to the outside, but one trip he couldnât kid himself out of was the dire need for a new clothes shop, the point was hammered down even more when he couldnât squeeze himself into anything without a loud tearing sound being heard, which had quickly becoming less of a turn on and more of a annoyance.Â
âOh Axel - I think I have some of your dads old clothes in a box somewhereâ his mum chuckled after seeing all his desperate attempts on the floor, seeing her son now Mrs Davison couldnât contain her glee at how much he had really filled out and was taking on more and more like his old man.
Their mall trip had taken longer than expected, most of Axels wardrobe had needed to be replaced and future proofed with Mrs Davidson veering for some xls just inc case, not to mention the amount of stops they made at the food court to recharge, they left with a boot full of new clothes and Hans filled with greasy food. Everything that wasnât covered was replaced with his dads old attire - a fact Mrs Davidson would never have belied a year agoÂ
Spring break couldnât last forever, and it was soon back to college fro Axel, who was starting to suspect that he might had overdone it, after 3 weeks of laziness indulgence left him feeling larger than ever. It was like a constant bloat to him but it never stopped and he could tell by the size of his gut it wasnât anyway fast. Was he overdoing it ?, surely Coach was going to tell him to stop right soon ?, as he unpacked his new clothes into his wardrobe these thoughts slowly crept into his mind. He was undoubtedly bigger than he was ever before, but when was Coach going to get him to stop. It wasnât that he wasnât enjoying it, no in fact he loved it, he felt like a a man with some proper weight, no wind would knock him down now, but when was it going to stop, until he 300lbs like Tony ? or 400lbs like his dad? .Yet when he thought about those numbers they seemed so far off and he was sure Coach wasnât going to let him get that out control right ?, but before he could give it much thought - he heard his name being called, the takeout was here.
â230lbs and a 38 inch waistâ
âWoah, Davidson youâve really outdone yourself hereâ Couch slyly saidÂ
Hearing those words was like sugar to his ears, he had once again made Coach proud, those thoughts he had quickly dispersed once he heard Coachâs sultry voice gush over him
âI mean kid you werenât playing around this break were you ha ha âŚ..âÂ
It seemed like even Coach couldnât contain his glee, as he took in Axelâs overfed body, and Axel couldnât help but be turned on as he saw Coach frantically analyzing his body first with his eyes but the with his strong manly hands. It started of small from a feeling of his side rolls, and then a glide over his puffy sensitive nipples, but soon it was like Coachâs hands had a mind of their own, it wasnât long till Coach was grabbing his puffy pecs and squeezing them, lifting them up and watching them drop. A sensation so foreign to Axel he couldnât help but whimper out a moan, but Coach didnât stop there moving to his doughy middle. Kneading his fat as he licked his lips, every inch was gut was poked and prodded by Coach even the start of his underbelly that was peaking out of his underwear - all while Axel felt himself nearly bursting as Coach continued in his tracksuitÂ
âMy my, Davidson, youâve really filled out now havenât youâ
Axel didnât know what to say but knew he didnât want it to stop, Coach was obsessed, he was squeeing and rubbing ever doughy part of skin he could get his hands.
âI can barely keep my controlâ
And then with that, he thought Coach was done as he walked away, but then the sound of the door locking filled the silence followed swiftly by the sound of Coachâs clothes being ripped of. Axel was frozen, he dared not to look around and see Coachâs undressed body, but he donât have to wait long as with the charge of bull Coach pressured him to the wall wall. He could feel Coachâs hot breath on his neck as Coachâs hard muscular body forced itself unto his soft back.
âAh Davidson letâs see what else of you has grownâ Coach slyly said as he ripped of Axelâs tight underpants.
âOh now, what an buttâ Coach chuckled mischievously as he slapped his dimpled butt and watched it ripple
Axel was in heaven, he couldnât believe his luck especially when he felt it. He always knew Coach was well endowed but as he felt his rock hard cock slip past his butt-cheeks even he knew he wasnât big enough for all of it.
Coach was powerful as he took charge, he didnât stop once as they moved from the wall to his desk - sweeping its contents on the floor as he bent Axel over it. And Axel could barely control himself, as he felt his belly squish again the table as Coach thrusted him into him bending over to stick his fingers into Axels mouth, but then when he thought it couldnât get much With some sort of preventative preparation Coach reached over into a draw pulling out Axelâs favourite - chocolate cake.Â
He dropped it the desk, then with his strong grip he pulled Axels head up by its hair and plopped it not the cake
âEAT PIG!â He roared as he continued thrusting into Axelâs behindÂ
And Axel did just that, all of it was just so hot, form the delicious the chocolate cake he was drowning in, to the strong thrusting form Coach as he ploughed into his arse and the fullness he felt as he ate more and more of the cake, and then as the cake slowly disappeared and Coach reached over to stuff the last piece into his mouth he felt it - the hot load of Coachâs inside of him, he came straight away - it was like euphoricÂ
It didnât take long after for Coach to return to his normal stern self, as he dressed leaving Axel they on the desk to compose himself, chocolate staining ins his face and cum and sweat leaking form behind. It had all been worth it, the feeling of Coach inside of him, he would follow Coachâs forever if it meant a forever of that.
However it seemed like Coach didnât share the same sentiments, leaving it up to Axel to break the silence however he could.Â
âCoach, how much longer of you plan do Iâve leftâ he said sheepishly - was the only thing Axel thought to say
âPardon Davidson!â Coach responded with his normal gravityÂ
âIts just donât you think Iâm getting a bit bigâ Axel blurted out not knowing where it came from
âNONSENSE!â Coach replied - catching himself mid stance to break his tone âListen kid, youâve still got a lot for space to fill up - and thisâ Coach said as he fingered over Axels chubby middle âis just massâ
âIâve still go to make a man out of you and this is how Iâm going to do itâÂ
âAll you need to do is stick to the plan Davidsonâ Coach went on âAnd Iâll reward it proportionallyâÂ
 And despite his recent self doubt, Axel could feel the blood go straight back down to his cock as Coach continued to brush over his âmassâ, feeling a sense of pleasure as Coach went on too caress his padded body no matter how clinical it felt, the thoughts of being too big vanished as he imagined a lifetime of sessions like that
âOh Coach forget I said anything, itâs just I canât wait to join the teamâ
âAh.. yesâ Coach paused âwhen you join the team⌠lets not get ahead of yourselfâ he chuckled âyouâve still got a lot more to growâ
#gainer stories#male weight gain#exjock#male gainer#fat male#weight gain stories#getting bigger#male feedism
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Tate And Briar đđâ¨
They are young adult students of "Windward's Magic Academy for Witches and Wizards" and they are best friends to each other. Tate is a unknown monster, creature, whatever. But he is friendly and wants to become a skilled wizard and make new friends. Not a lot of friends. Just only like 3 friends. Briar is a introvert, apathetic, and polite puppet. She is bit obsessed with brewing potions and learning and practicing interesting magic spells. (Not dark magic spells though)
Hope you enjoy, and have a good spooky/Halloween month. ^^ đđť
Name: Tate The Three-Eyed Monster Gender: Male Age: 23 Species: Three-Eyed Monster Height: 5'7 Hair: Emerald Green Eyes: Yellow Skin: Lighter Green Home: Windward's Magic Academy for Witches and Wizards Occupation: Wizard / Team Yellow Student of Windward's Magic Academy for Witches and Wizards Personality: Happy-Go-Lucky, Friendly, Brave a bit, Very Kind, Understanding, A bit Helpful, and Loyalty to his friends Likes: Magic, Briar and his friends, Having fun, Exploring a bit, Helping those in need sometimes, Meeting nice people, Sweets (Not a lot just a bit), Broom flying, and Children Dislikes: Dark Magic, Bullies, Mean people, and Sour candies Powers/Abilities: Magic Skills (With his wand) / Spell Casting (With or without spell book) / Broom Flying Skills𧚠/ Speed / Strength Fun Facts:
His mum and dad are born with magic and he loves them very much. ^^ đ
Has a sweet tooth, but doesn't have addiction to sweets though which is good. His favorite sweet is sticky toffee pudding. Yum yum đ
Name: Briar The Puppet Gender: Female Age: 24 Species: Puppet Height: 6'0 Hair: Blue Eyes: Black Skin: Lighter Blue Home: Windward's Magic Academy for Witches and Wizards Occupation: Witch / Team Yellow Student of Windward's Magic Academy for Witches and Wizards Personality: Introvert, Apathetic, Polite, Loyalty to her friends, Understanding (Like Tate), A Little Hardworking, A Little Kind, Patient, and A Bit Optimistic Likes: Magic, Potion making, Her dream of becoming a very good-skilled witch, Reading, Studying and practicing good spells, Roses, Tate and her friends, and Tea Dislikes: Dark Magic, Bullies bullying one of her friends including Tate, and Rebecca's bragging about herself being a better witch than her (Who likes to bully Briar and Rebecca thinks is smarter and better than her and others too), Powers/Abilities: Magic Skills (With her wand) / Spell Casting (With or without spell book) / Broom Flying Skills𧚠/ Great Potion Making Skills / Speed / Strength Fun Fact:
Back then like 2 years ago, before Briar was accepted to learn magic at the magic academy, she works as a maid there. Although, she does not want to work as a maid, and wants to be a very good-skilled witch like her mother. During her break times after cleaning, serving, or so, she secretly take some spell books and study/read them every day and night. Then one day during the Potion Making class, one student accidently dropped a ingredient into a small cauldron that created into big form of monster. The students tried to stop it using their wands some spells, but none of the spells work to stop and turn it back to normal. Briar heard the drama going on and come into the room. One of the students explained to her what happened, and Briar then suddenly know what spell that'll work, as she borrows the student's wand, said a rare spell and she shoots magic at the monster and it turned back into a normal ingredient. The students are bit surprised that she's a magic user, and never heard of that spell before. Briar said: "That spell is just a rare one. I read it from one of those spell books, I studied them every day and night." Then the teacher/professor showed up and became shocked after see the destruction in here. One of the students explained to them about what happened, and the teacher looked at Briar in little impression. Briar looked away a little, and gave the wand back to the student, and the teacher tells Briar to come with them to The Headmistress's office. After Briar tell the whole story about what happened today, what she secretly does during break, and her being a magic user, the headmistress of the magic academy is bit impressed of her story and wanting to be a witch like her mother, and what she did to stop that monster back there. So she decided to let Briar to become a new student of the academy. Briar is really happy, well..doesn't look very happy or excited, but she smiled a bit and nodded and say "Thank you. Thank you very much" to the nice headmistress.
#tate the three eyed monster#briar the puppet#my characters#my art#witch oc#witch ocs#wizard oc#wizard ocs#puppet oc#puppet ocs#monster oc#monster ocs
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Hello there!
I don't usually log into my Tumblr account, I downloaded the app again only lately to search for fanfiction and fan arts actually. I think one of the reasons I started following your blog (probably years ago at this point) was surely your art. Anyway, today I took some time to scroll through the posts in my homepage and came across the one in which you poured your sentiments about your dad's death.
First of all, what I want to say is that I'm very sorry, I know that even when the death of a person you love is something that you are expecting, it's not easy to accept that anyway. In those last 4 years it happened to me too, first it was my grandma, who was like a second mother to me, after that my aunt followed her only a year after. Last month, my uncle died too. We are a very close family, I grew up with them in the same house, and now it's just me and my mum here. She has a lot of physical problems too, and since when I was little I've always been thinking about how I would react when I would lose her.
I get your feeling, I hate the fact that people come to your house when a relative dies, and even though I know they don't do it with bad intentions, I always felt it's absolutely wrong. When my grandma died, I just wanted to shut myself in and not talk to anyone, but people kept coming and it was so exhausting to be strong for them.
Honestly, I don't really know if my words will make any sense in general, but I feel like I just wanted to let you know that I understand how you feel, I would really like to let you know how to bear with it, but sadly I don't really know. If I was you, I would simply take some time for myself, go somewhere where you can have some days of peace and simply grieve the pain you feel like you couldn't grieve up until now. People surely will understand, and if not, screw them. But I also know that not everyone can just go and take some days off, so I hope you can find the best solution for you. Trust me, I think it's best to let go of the pain as much as you can when the wound is fresh, because it won't completely disappear, but at least you would have to deal with a minor amount as the time goes on.
Please, really, take care of yourself, I don't know you personally but I feel like there's a deep connection between us, so even if my words can only make you feel slightly better, slightly understood, I'll be happy with that.
I'm sending you a really big big hug đ I wish the best for you đ
đđđđđđđđ
Thank you, anon, I'm sorry for your loss too, your uncle's death is very recent, but everyone else's must also hurt very much still. </3
The thing is, it's very difficult to find alone time currently. I live with my parents and my sister and her boyfriend have been here ever since the end of September to care for my dad and support each other. Which is wonderful, but it's also just a very full house, even without all of the visitors.
And tomorrow they're going back which creates a new problem, which is that my mum is often not great at being alone and I feel bad taking time for myself heh. Especially when it's just the two of us. And I'm the opposite: I recharge when I'm by myself lol.
Anyway, we're hopefully going to find a way to meet both of our needs.
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When all you want is a Scottish Romance, but a different dream is delivered ...
Part of the book title (no copyright infringement intended)
The following has been going on for years: My mother sees a book in a catalogue or in a newspaper ad. She tells me about it and says she will order it. But as she is very busy, she forgets about it and the desire to read this or that book never materialises.
When I realised this, I started writing down the titles of the books she mentioned. Eventually, I started ordering those titles from my online bookseller. I love my online bookseller because it is very reliable and the staff try to fulfil all the customers' wishes. What's more, for a small surcharge on the price of the book, you can have it wrapped in beautiful paper and accompanied by a greeting card with a personal message. Over the years, I have been able to surprise my mother with several books in this way. Having read with interest popular science books about dogs, ravens and squirrels, as well as books on current political issues, she wanted "just something to relax" after her serious illness in the winter of 22/23. She told me she had seen a book called "The Little Knitting Shop in the Scottish Highlands" ("Home is where the wool is!"). My mum has been a passionate knitter all her life. "The book also contains three knitting patterns!" Ah yes! I got the message and ⌠had the first book in the series delivered to her.
She loved it. I then ordered Volume 2 ("Winter Tea in the Little Knitting Shop in the Scottish Highlands") and - a month later - Volume 3 ("New Happiness in the Little Knitting Shop in the Scottish Highlands") for Christmas. My mum was delighted, she liked the third book even more than the previous ones. A few weeks ago, she complained about the bad weather and said it was getting on her nerves. So I ordered volume 4 of the series to cheer her up a bit. When I rang her a few days later, we had the following conversation:
M: "Ah, good of you to call. The postman has just brought the parcel from the bookshop! I'll unpack it right away!"
(In the background) A parcel is opened, and paper rustles.
M: "Oh, so nicely wrapped again!"
(More rustling in the background)
M: "Oh, and such a nice card. Thank you so much! But now I'm really looking forward to the book âŚ"
(Again, more rustling in the background âŚ. then silence)
I: "Mum?"
Silence.
I: "Mum? Is everything all right?"
M: "Er, yes, but ⌠what should I do with this book?"
I: (Silence and wonder) "What does she mean?
M: "The parcel contained a book with the title 'Three Women Dreamed of Socialism'. What should I do with it? Why are you sending me this?"
I: (Gathering all my strength not to laugh out loud): "Mum, I didn't order a book like that for you."
M: "What did you order?"
I: "Volume 4 of your series: 'New Beginnings in the Little Knitting Shop in the Scottish Highlands'!"
M: "No, that didn't come. Unfortunately not. This book might be interesting too .... but ... I never dreamed of socialism." I: (Gathering all my strength not to laugh out loud again, because my mum worked as a banker): "I know mum. I know."
I then called the bookshop and of course, we were able to exchange the book without any major problems. I had to control myself all the time not to laugh out loud again because I always tried to imagine what kind of face the customer must have made who ordered 'Three Women Dreamed of Socialism' and instead received Volume 4 of a Scottish Romance :)
P.S.: "Drei Frauen träumten vom Sozialismus" is a book about three of the great female writers of the former GDR (Maxie Wander, Brigitte Reimann, Christa Wolf). It tells the story of how these women dealt with the promise of a socialist society and how they had to reorient themselves when these dreams were shattered with the collapse of the GDR.
#Personal#unwilling book exchange#Drei Frauen träumten vom Sozialismus#Der kleine Strickladen in den Schottischen Highlands
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my year in fic
provide a line (or two. or three. hehe) for every fic you wrote this year.Â
no need to forgive
Maybe it was the alcohol, the loneliness or just how fucking sad he felt, but Sirius began to believe that Remus was betraying them. What on Earth was he doing all those months away? Getting reinforcements? Sirius knew that the Order was weaker and weaker every day, so Remusâ job was bullshit. Didnât mean anything. Therefore, he mustâve joined them. He covered it with the fact that Moody asked him to go, to reclute them. It wasnât working, it was fake. Was their love fake too? Was he trying to convince Sirius to join too? When did he make that decision?
blue room (not posted)
âOf course I will, but just tell me this, when is Sirius coming back? I think the last time I heard from him he was in Thailand!â
âMy God, Remus, that was like 5 months ago. He was back in Amsterdam for a few months, you know, playing in that musical. And by staying in the same place for longer than 3 months, heâs decided he might as well do all that here.â
âOh, I see. So I guess he is coming back soon.â
âWhy do you look nervous? Are you actually nervous, Remus?â
âCome on, Lily. You know I haven't talked to the guy in years, our texts consist of us wishing each other a good birthday and a happy new year. Thatâs all. For some reason James and him have been able to maintain their friendship, but I donât know what happened to us. We didnât have a fight or anything when he left, he just left me here and I went to Wales.â
âAlright, I see it, Re. Maybe I can text you when he comes and you can see him when James and I are around, okay? That way you wonât have to face him all by yourself.â
Remus takes a deep breath and checks his phone again, âYeah, that would make me feel better.â
i get along without you very well (not posted)
If you ask Remus Lupin how he is doing, he would say that he is doing fine, thank you very much. He is getting along very well, given the circumstances: he still has his mum, Poppy and a weird looking cat named Muffin that had stolen Siriusâ heart and now he is stuck with it.
one song glory (not posted)
It is late November when Sirius realises he is fucking bored. Bored of everything and everyone, nothing seems to spark some joy out of him. He despises his degree, his family and the fucking tattoos that he got at 15 that look hideous and he canât even look at them.Sirius is in his 3rd year of University and he canât wait another year to be able to finish and fuck off, God knows where. He is studying Law just because his parents wouldnât have paid for his tuition if he had chosen to do something else, so fucking Law it is. Maybe he could be a lawyer in another country, far away from dear Mother and Father. But that means that he wouldnât be close to his friends and Regulus, and that makes his heart ache.
sirius (not posted and i donât even have a name for this)
Sirius doesnât quite recall when this exactly started, but he remembers the countless hours spent in the bathroom, just looking at the reflection. itâs always helped him to come to terms with how he looks, at least from a perspective. Bella would make fun of his nose, how it was bigger than whatâs expected of a Black. So Sirius looked at his nose in the mirror, and learnt to love it, convincing himself that it belongs in his face, that he wouldnât want any other kind of nose there with his face. He had been born with it and itâs his, he wouldnât trade it for anything else. At least he looked less like the rest of his family.
light carries on endlessly
âIn this type of dance, you are both a leader and a follower. Every person dancing has these two roles. I saw that you know how to lead yourself around, but you fail to relax and just feel the music. You must trust everyone on the dance floor. Theyâll lead you and youâll lead them. The trick is trust, James. You must let yourself trust others.â
im tagging anyone who wants to do this!!!! xxxx
#my fic#i wrote quite a bit#though i just posted two things#but still!!#plenty of stuff in my google docs <3#r/s
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Eleanor's Kitchen
Book: The Royal Heir Book 1/The Royal Romance series
Rating: G
Pairing: None. Queen Eleanor & Signore Francesco friendship. Mention of JoĂŤlle Theron & Queen Eleanor's friendship.
Summary: After a visit from one of his mother's old college friends, little Liam realizes he doesn't actually know as much about her as he thinks. (Eleanor's Kitchen)
Word Count: 3, 261 words.
Tagging @choicesficwriterscreations for Fics of the Week.
Choices May Challenge (Day 8) - yellow | Mothers | "do you trust me"? (@choicesmonthlychallenge)
Chapter 2: Spaghetti al Pomodoro
There are many moments when Liam thinks he's seen his mother at her happiest.
When she sees him and Drake, weaving their way through the still-in-construction garden, their shins darkened by mud. When Leo briefly drops his disinterested-teenager demeanor, and actually looks happy to be at home. The now-rare days when she and Father go a full day without disagreeing on something (alright...maybe not that. You can still see her eyes nervously darting, like she's aware that the day isn't over and there's still time for things to go wrong). When her projects seem to take off. When people appreciate her new garden. When she goes to the public library. The rare times she gets to cook.
None of that compares, Liam realizes now, to the shine in her eyes at the sight of a carton of ripe, red, oval-shaped tomatoes in the palace.
As Mum closes her eyes, breathing in the sweet scent of the tomatoes, Liam surreptitiously picks up a note that seems to have fallen from the box.
Nori,
Got this straight from Zio Guiseppe's farm. He still remembers you! Keeps telling me how often you wolfed down their sfogliatella first time you visited. He even offered to just send you a bottle of homemade sauce to save time...but I told him if I did that you'd kill me!
Here's to serving your sons real pasta with real pomodoro, not those pathetic pink travesties you Cordonians call tomatoes.
Franci.
Mum sniffs in frustration when she finally reads the note. "I may be Cordonian now," she murmurs as if Francesco de Rosa himself is in the room, "but on the subject of tomatoes I will never be anything but Auvernese."
Liam frowns in worry. For the past year, Mum's home place hasn't even been mentioned in the palace. If this ever reaches Father's ears there will be hell to pay.
So instead of stoking the flames by asking his mother what's so special about Auvernal's tomatoes (not that he likes tomatoes, anyway, unless they're cherry tomatoes - the bigger ones always make your mouth pucker in the worst way, and Mum always needs to drown them in fresh herbs to make them taste halfway-decent), he asks about Uncle Franci instead.
"When did you go to Naples, Mum?" They've gone to Capri, they've gone to Venice, they've seen the Colloseum at Rome, he's even seen Father and Mum meet the Pope - all veiled and dressed in black - at the Vatican. He knows Napoli is where Uncle Franci stays, with Aunt Perizaad his wife - and they've come over to Cordonia a handful of times - but Liam can't for the life of him remember Mum ever going there!
"Oh, that?" Mum sounds a little surprised, almost as if she's just remembered something that never occurred to her before. "Of course you wouldn't know, sweetheart. I was still in university then."
Liam's eyes grow round as saucers. "You met Uncle Franci in college?"
Mum's laughter tinkles like glass, light but also a little hollow - her smile only half-there. "I met many people at college. Some of them you see almost every month."
"Really? Do you have pictures, Mum?" It's hard, to think of a time when his mother wasn't a queen, wasn't the woman on his Father's right side, wasn't the woman who considered this palace her home. Wasn't his mother.
Until now, he's never had to think about what Mum's life looked like before all that. Almost as if she emerged from the earth of their Capitol, like the goddess Venus did atop a shell from the sea. But Mum's eyes light up with a need Liam cannot name yet, so when she asks him if he'd like to see them right now, he says yes.
And he's excited at first, truly. He wants to see all these memories that seem to bring her so much joy. So he sits through thousands of pictures (Mum and Father. Mum and Global Leaders. Mum and a delegation of Applewood farmers. Mum and himself, now as a small child. Now as a toddler. Now as a baby, bawling his head off in a very uncomfortable christening robe. Mum and a very young, very scared Leo perched atop her lap). And as each yellowing album-page takes an agonizingly slow step back in time and Liam's childish enthusiasm begins to flag...Mum's own anticipation dims a little bit more, the dewy joy that lit up her entire face when she first saw those tomatoes slowly fading.
But then they're interrupted by the palace staff for teatime. And then they're expected to see Ana de Luca, Trend's newest and most popular interviewer, about a photoshoot. Then by the time they're done with all that, Drake runs to him, panting in exhilaration, telling Liam it's time for them to play.
And Liam runs, forgetting instantly all albums he's left behind and all the questions that led his mother to show them to him, too caught up in the promise of his own childhood adventures to wonder about her youth.
Eleanor shakes her head, chuckling fondly - tiredly - at the fading shadow of her son and his best friend, racing madly through the halls without another care in the world, before she puts the albums away.
--
"Mmm," Uncle Franci takes a seat next to Liam, greeting the smell of spaghetti slathered in tomato sauce with a sigh of appreciation. He'd called in last week, mentioning to Mum that he had work at the Capitol; to which she immediately suggested he drop by for lunch. "Smells just like Nonna's. I bet Pari gave you that recipe. But cherry tomatoes?"
Mum lets out an unladylike snort. "Just because they're not in your Nonna's recipe doesn't mean no Italian has ever used them."
"But these are Cordonian tomatoes. You may have the best baking apples but with respect to this one ingredient we beat you hollow."
"Pssh! Those are different. You haven't even tried our cherry tomatoes yet." Mum gets even more passionate in her defense of Cordonian produce, a strand or two of her hair easing themselves off her neatly-tied bun as she spritedly argues.
Liam breathes in a whiff of the pasta dish while the two keep sparring. He won't lie: it does look, and smell, divine. The basil smells fresh, the sunlight streaming from the windows casts a silky gleam over the already-thick sauce on the spaghettoni. The subtle pungent perfume of crushed garlic teases his nostrils. The mini-tomatoes that seem to offend Uncle Franci so much have a slight char, the blackness standing out against all the bright colours of the dish.
He's just not sure the pasta will taste as good as it looks, because they're tomatoes.
But Liam is sure of one thing. He's never enjoyed being in the kitchen with his mother, as much as he did when she was making this sauce. She's always been one to sing, do a little dance, tell a story, in the middle of cooking. Fairytales, old myths, childhood memories, little anecdotes of his life with Father and Leo, before Liam came along. Little folk legends she's read about in the public library.
But since she got that carton of tomatoes from San Marzano sul Sarno, her stories have started sounding different. They're brimming with love, but with a sense that she's lost something too. She talks about her father's wonderful, forever-fertile farm, that grew everything from root vegetables to dragonfruit. About her time at university, learning Cultural Studies and meeting a young Italian batchmate named Francesco de Rosa - now an up-and-coming Italian politician. Mum said they'd bonded instantly, teasingly calling each other "Volcano Children".
Volcanoes? Liam whispered as Mum sweated the garlic, why volcanoes?
Volcanic soil was very important to both our childhoods, she told him, sighing wistfully, Uncle Franci's birthplace isn't too far from Mount Vesuvius. Your Grandpa's farm was very close to Mount Ionia, which is our dormant volcano. The ash from all those ancient eruptions does something to the soil over time.
What does it do? Uncle Franci's tomatoes, crushed yet still a little whole, now joined the garlic-infused oil, what does that do to the food?
Mum didn't answer. She'd just tasted a spoonful of sauce, closing her eyes and smiling, occasionally moving her tongue around her palate. As if the taste of the tomatoes themselves transported her somewhere else.
He sees the same expression on both her and Uncle Franci's faces now, at the dinner table, feasting on the pasta. Perhaps a hint of surprise in Uncle Franci's expression.
Liam shifts in his seat, embarrassed; his plate is the only one left untouched.
Just one bite, he promises himself, lazily twirling strands of spaghetti around his fork. Just a little bit, and if I can't get through the meal I can complain of a stomachache. Mum will understand.
That one bite releases a whole bouquet of sensations all at once. The pasta is luscious, the tomatoes are shockingly sweet and vibrant, their richness unfurling over his tongue in a way that coats his entire palate. He's never had a tomato that tasted like this. The garlic and basil play hide-and-seek with his senses, only occasionally making their presence felt. It's almost like there's no need for the flavourings to take centerstage!
"More, Liam?" Mum says, her lips unfurling into small smile at the sight of his almost-empty plate.
"Yes please," Liam responds immediately, before realizing both their eyes - amused, a little relieved - are trained on him. "I mean, er, it's nice."
"Perks of living near a volcano," Uncle Franci says, grinning.
Liam giggles, twirling pasta around his fork into a huge cocoon, "Mum said so too."
"She's not wrong, cucciolo mio. It's all that volcanic ash. You won't believe how rich with minerals that soil is."
Liam nods even though some of the phrases are a little hard to understand, his mouth for once stuffed with pasta and tomatoes. He understands enough. But Uncle Franci's praise for Mum's pasta dish has only begun.
"I hate to say this, but I was wrong about the cherry tomatoes, Nori. Charring them really made all the difference!" he lets out a dramatic sigh. "Pari will be so smug when she finds out."
"Once a Cordonian, always a Cordonian, I'm sure," Mum laughs, a light, spirited one that Liam hasn't heard in a while. "She's in Bethulia right now, isn't she?"
Uncle Franci bristles slightly, and Mum purses her lips in response. Liam pretends not to know why; he's heard whispers about Bethulia often over the years, but has only visited the estate once. Its current owner, Baron Cyrus, is younger brother to the then-presumptive heir, who had left the estate years ago to start a new life in metropolitan China. She hasn't been seen since. "Yes."
Nervously, Mum runs a nail over the pristine tablecloth. "She'd told me her cousin Lorelai had come down for a sudden visit."
Uncle murmurs beneath his breath "You can imagine how well that turned out," before turning to Liam and saying - his voice falsely bright - "Did you know, Liam, that I met Aunt Pari through your mother?"
Liam straightens up in his chair, his eyes suddenly brightening, "Really?? You never told me that, Mum!"
Liam knows how fond Mum is of Aunt Pari, but the smile on her face remembering their first few months looks extra special. "Pari was my junior in university...she used to meet me every week for help with class notes. We grew quite close."
"Which is where I come in," Uncle Franci interjects, grinning, "because I was your Mum's roommate, and that's how Aunt Pari met me. Might I add I was the more fun of the two of us; no wonder she stayed around..." Mum rolls her eyes, suppressing a smile. "Both Pari and your mum always carried cameras around. Took pictures of everything and everyone. I actually have a few of those pictures on me right now," he says, passing a conspiratory glance Mum's way. She says nothing, but when Liam steals a glance her way he can see her mouth the words thank you.
Guiltily, Liam remembers they'd never gone back and checked Mum's albums, after the cart of tomatoes had come. The few times he'd remembered, something else had always come up.
"Can I see?"
Uncle Franci is still smiling, but the smile looks different now - softer and more thoughtful. Briefly, he places his hand on Liam's hair. "Of course, cucciolino mio."
The pictures are beautiful, dappled in sunlight, brimming over the four corners of the photograph with bright, happy faces. Here is one of Mum standing at the center of a university campus, holding a bouquet of sunflowers, her eyes crinkled in laughter as Uncle Franci and Aunt Pari mischievously kiss her cheek from either side. And another of Mum and Uncle Franci in plain cotton pyjamas - a far cry from the luxurious sleeping robes she and Father wear - wolfing down pasta, their faces nearly smeared with sauce.
"You have no idea how desparate we both would get for a good tomato pasta. We were so homesick that first year." Mum says, chuckling fondly at their younger selves.
"I'd still argue our San Marzano tomatoes have the slightest edge over your Auvernese ones!"
"Shut it, you," Mum lightly punches Uncle Franci in the arm, her eyes a tiny bit watery, as Liam leafs hungrily through the other pictures. This is a side of his mother he's never seen - and now that Uncle Franci has shown it to him, he can't help but want to know more.
The next photograph shows only a paper, with writing that Liam instantly recognizes as his mother's swirly, almost-calligraphic script. He reads most of the title easily, as well as her name ("Eleanor Moon") only faltering when he reaches the last word.
Breaking Bread: Exploring the History and Practice of Mediterranean Gas...Gas...Gastro...
" - gastrodiplomacy," Mum helps him, rubbing his back in encouragement. "It means you look at how people from different places cultivate alliances and friendships through food."
Liam looks up from the pile of photographs. "Like you and Uncle Franci?" The memory of today's tomato pasta still sends tingles through his tastebuds.
Uncle Franci guffaws in response. "More like your Mum and every soul she meets."
"This was my thesis - that's a research paper you present in the course of getting your degree. Mine and Aunt Pari's was in Cultural Studies, Uncle Franci did his in International Politics. Your father pursued the same degree...but he was a fair bit older than any of us." There is a glow of pride on Mum's face, the same kind that he often sees when an initiative of hers succeeds. "This was the most frustrating, most rewarding, tastiest research paper I'd ever written."
"We both gained weight when you wrote that one," Uncle Franci laughs, before setting the final photograph on the table, "oooh...I think Liam might recognize a person or two in this picture!"
The last picture shows Mum standing behind a huge banner, in a bright purple sundress and a hat, standing next to a vibrant black woman dressed in sunshiny lemon-yellow. They fashion their poses in a way that looks poised, yet casual enough so the onlooker deems them approachable. They wear their best smiles, but their eyes are razor-sharp with purpose. In blue and silver letters, the banner reads
JoĂŤlle Moreau for President!
Eleanor Moon for Cultural Secretary!
Liam draws a deep breath. "Mum, is that -"
"Yes, sweetheart," she responds, eyes softening at JoĂŤlle's deep brown curls, her warm, open smile. "You know her now as Duchess JoĂŤlle, House Thorne. We won that year, too."
"Kiara's Maman," Liam murmurs, remembering it's been months since he's seen the playmate he's been playing soccer and "diplomatic doll games" with. "I didn't know you were in college together too!"
Uncle Franci lets out a small chuckle. "There's a lot of things you don't yet know about your mother," he tells Liam, sitting on his haunches so he can look the young child in the eye, one hand on his shoulder, "but I promise you, finding out will be fun."
Liam takes that little lesson to heart long after Uncle Franci leaves, making promises to arrange for Aunt Pari to visit soon. There is something about Mum's face in those pictures that tugs at him: expressions and hand gestures that he can't even remember seeing from Mum since the time he was born. Things about her he never knew, he never even thought to know. And the look on her face whenever he asks a question about them...that's a happiness Liam wants to grab with both hands and store in a bottle, so he can preserve the glow on her face and the shine in her eyes, forever.
--
Liam likes to keep this a biweekly ritual, Eleanor realizes three weeks into Francesco's last visit. The first time they went back to that cabinet of albums, he looked closely at the pile as if to imprint which ones had all the family pictures, and which ones featured his mother alone, imprinting them in his memory to save time. Since then, he's walked gingerly to the cabinet each time, plucking out whichever of his mother's albums he's in a mood for. Seeing him pore over each photograph, in awe, makes Eleanor's heart swell.
Something in her hurt inside when Liam left those albums aside...when it looked like he didn't even show interest in the parts of her that had little to do with him or their family. It's childish, she knew. She should be the mature one, she should understand how difficult this life is for any child to navigate. But it didn't stop the hollow feeling inside from constantly creeping in.
Liam points to another photograph now, chirping exitedly his guesses for who the figure in the painting at the background might be (He's right). This photograph is of JoĂŤlle, dressed in a silky maxidress in one of those bright colours she used to wear so well, the head-wrap covering her hair, boldly patterned. She is holding the tip of a paintbrush to her chin, gazing at an oil painting of a young black man in a waistcoat, the fingers of his left hand fiddling with a cufflink, his eyes intense and vulnerable all at once. Jo's features are soft and delicate as she continues gazing at the painting, her eyes already brimming with a million dreams. Eleanor can almost smell the turpentine in Jo's small studio emanating from the picture, if she closes her eyes long enough.
JoĂŤlle is perhaps the only courtier she's this close to... the only one she knows she can trust blindfolded. She won't forget how deeply troubled she'd been all those weeks ago, how much gibberish she'd poured out onto her old friend from Castelserraillan over phone. But somehow JoĂŤlle figured out the problem she'd been plagued with, because Eleanor could understand it herself.
Prince Liam will only show interest in seeing what you are passionate about showing, Elle. Jo had told her in her deep, soothing voice, I've seen you in the past few years, followed your news in the past months. You've been spending far too long trying to be everything to everyone. The perfect Queen for Cordonia. The perfect wife and consort for the King. The perfect mother for your sons. Where are you in all this?
It was a simple enough question; it still stunned Eleanor into silence.
We may be queens and wives and mothers, Elle, was the last thing she said before she kept the phone, but we owe it to ourselves, and to our children, to remember - always - that we are more than that.
Eleanor runs a thumb softly over Jo's face, her heart twisting with love. They meet regularly, she knows, but it's never the same. It's been too long since they've sat down for a heart-to-heart chat. Since they've giggled over the precocious younger children's games together.
Tomorrow, Eleanor promises herself. Tomorrow she'll call JoĂŤlle, ask when she's free. Have her come over. Her youngest could join in, keep Liam company. It'll be a little like the old days, Eleanor whispers to herself, her spirits already soaring.
But for now... they'll shut the albums, keep them neatly back in the cabinets, and have lunch.
It's Liam's new favourite today. A simple tomato pasta.
--
Italian Words:
Zio - Uncle
Sfogliatella - a shell-shaped filled Italian pastry originating from Campania. It means "small, thin leaf/layer", as the pastry's texture resembles stacked leaves.
Pomodoro - Tomato
Cucciolo/Cucciolino mio - an affectionate term used for young boys (typically refers to a young animal like a young puppy or a young kitten - in this context Franci means "little cub" since the lion is such an important royal symbol)
Author's Note: Inspired by a line in Liam's Book 1 date scene, about how he used to enjoy simple tomato pasta as a kid, and another line about Franceso, the Italian statesman, being a friend of Eleanor's. Takes place roughly a year after the events of Ch 1, so Liam is over 7 years old.
Recipes for Spaghetti al Pomodoro:
Chef Carlo Cracco
Vincenzo's Plate
#choices fanfic#king liam#prince liam#eleanor rys#the royal romance#the royal heir#trr#trr fanfic#series: eleanor's kitchen#cfwc fics of the week#choicesmonthlychallenge
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The reflection crouse
Goodbye mommy pt3
Masterlist
"I love you Tilly girl" y/n spoke to her.
"I love you too mommy" tilly responded, the image of her mother days before she lost her would always make her cry. As a child Tilly really tried not to notice the changes her mother was going through. But now those were all she had left of her mother.
She remembers her pale and sunken skin, her mother was terribly skinny and Ill looking. Her hair thin and dull, her eyes the same Tilly once found a journal full of her mums health that her dad kept to try and keep track. The last entry wrote.
Day: the 10th
Medication: take three times day, the two with the blue stickers on them she takes before eating and the ones with red after.
Weight gain/lose: I've tried to keep her full of protein but she still remains at 80 pounds.
Notes: the doctors and I have tried so many medications to give her more time, nothing's working. I fear the constant change of meds is doing more damage then saving.
Tilly had it hidden in her closet under her Jean's, she knew if her father found out she had the journal of her mothers last date he would be upset. Not mad just upset, tilly knows that he tries to keep the the hurt from her.
It was monday. Every monday before school Tilly and y/n would have mommy Monday. Pancakes and cartoons and after was the best. Today is the first monday without her mum. No pancakes, no cartoons, no mommy mondays, no mum. Tilly cried all day at school they called home and james had to pick her up early.
If someone asked Tilly what the hardest day of her life was she would say that Monday when she awoke to no mum.
The many times Tilly met dot she hated it. Her father's blatant disregard for her back handed compliments and tone deaf jokes made Tilly made.
The way she spoke about her mother was the worst of all, 'im your new mom now' she would "jokely" say. Or 'why is this old stuff all around?', 'we need to clean out this house of her junk' all these things bucky was ignored, all the clear dirty looks and eye rolls that Tilly gave to Dott ignored too.
"Dad I told you I'm going out with!" Tilly said with an annoyed sigh.
"Tilly can't you just spend some time with Dott? It's family night I told you this yesterday."
"And I told you I was going out on Monday! She is NOT family"need
3 months later.
17 she was turning 17, tilly had found some old pictures from her grandma and grandpa of her mother on her 17th birthday. Y/n had a 70s themed birthday party and everyone dressed up. They told her to the keep the pictures. And when she showed her dad he laughed so hard at the mere sight of them.
"The song dancing queen by abba played all night long, god look at me I almost forgot about my long hair. I guess I did a good job on the custom" he laughed. Their were many pictures of aunt Natasha, uncle tony, steve, thor, sam, aunt wanda, pepper, and tilly's favorite was her mum holding a very grumpy 10 year old yelena in her arms as she danced.
But her real favorite was the last two, one was of y/n smiling about to blow out her birthday candles her eyes filled up with joy and the candle light made her look beautiful. And the other one was of bucky and her slow dancing the perfect photo caught of the two. The look that her father had in his eyes Tilly has not seen in a long time. The way he looked at her mum.
So now it was tilly's 17th birthday and she was having a 70 themed party with all her friends and grandparents. She was off the walls as she and her aunts ready in her room, the only thing she didnt like was her father's new girlfriend Dott. Tilly hated her and she didnt care that her father was moving on and happy call her selfish but she didn't care. No one could replace her mother. When aunt nat found out she almost slapped bucky and she told tilly why. Dott was always trying to steal bucky away from her mother and the drama that went with it was enough for Tilly to never ever want Dott around her or her father.
Bucky insisted that Dott come tonight that it would be a good bonding time for them. Tilly felt as if her father was shoving her down her throat. And every time Tilly saw Dott she always tried to bring up that she should move in and 'we can get rid of all the old stuff' tilly's mother was NOT old stuff! Or she would try and convince bucky to donate y/n's things that were still around the house.
The party was going fantastic all tillys friends were there and her aunts and uncles. Until Dott spilt her drink on her shirt. Bucky and her going upstairs to clean her up but when Dott came down in one of her mothers shirts Natasha lost it and so did tilly and everyone else.
"What are waring?" Natasha seethed at Dott.
"She spit her drink nat its fine" bucky blew off.
"No it's not fine that was your wife's shirt, not just some shirt james your wife's."
"It doesn't matter Natasha shes gone. My wife died!" Dott smile didnt flatter.
Tilly started to cry. Did her dad really not remember what that shirt was? Was he that careless? That was the shirt y/n went to the hospital in. That was the last time y/n ever went to the hospital because she never came home from that one. That was the last shirt Tilly had ever seen her mother in and the music stopped, tillys grandpa holding her grandma as she cried and Natasha was about to slap bucky until Tilly muttered.
"I hate you, and today is my birthday that me and my family throwed to celebrate my mum and me. And you've ruined it! I didnt even want you here." Tilly stormed off her friends following her to make sure she was okay.
"Its just a damn shirt!" Dott said rolling her eyes "your mommys dead get over it!" Y/ns mother marched her way up to her and slapped Dott and then bucky. "My daughter deserves better then this and so does my granddaughter! That girl misses her mother and you! James my husband and I love you and my daughter did too but this is too much! I know it's been 7 years but that does not mean she didnt exist. I know everyone deals with grief in different ways but you forcing your daughter to act like her mother never happened is wrong. I'm every disappointed in you james" and with that grandma and grandpa walked upstairs to go to their granddaughter.
A/N: I know this was a crappy chapter but I needed to get it out sođ¤ˇ
#bucky barnes#bucky x female reader#marvel#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes oneshots#steve rogers#steve rogers au
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The ultimate How I Met Your Mother Finale rant
I know this has been done before, and I know I'm several years late to the party, but I don't care, so IN THIS ESSAY I WILL tell you about why this finale takes the spot as the second-worst finale in TV show history (because Game of Thrones is still, to this day, unbeatable, and it will probably stay like that forever).Â
But first, a little context: I've just finished binge-watching HIMYM. This binge has been going on for three days straight (my final exam of the semester is in a week and I should be studying, so the fact that the last few days were a partial waste of time makes me so mad). Second thing: I already knew how it would end, and yes, kids, it does ruin the show for you. It ruins the show so much it makes your blood boil when you rewatch certain scenes, but I will get to that.Â
You might want to make yourself a drink because this is a complete list of all the reasons why HIMYM's finale sucks - I'm warning you, it's gonna be looong.
It completely invalidates the entirety of season 9
This is one of the complaints people most often have with this series, and I have to agree. It would have been so much better if the last two episodes never existed, and they just showed Barney and Robin dancing at the reception after walking out of the chapel, Ted noticing Tracy and then the platform scene. "And that, kids, is the story of how I met your mother". Cut scene. Honestly, I don't get the hate people give to season 9, barring the last 2/3 episodes, especially since season 8 was so much worse (except for a few honourable mentions, like The Robin). S8 was slower, less funny, and less deep, and while the authors took a risk by making s9 happen in the span of a weekend it paid off: they took their time introducing the character of the Mother to the gang and fleshing her out. They make sure to highlight all the little ways in which Ted and Tracy are perfect for each other, and even tie up loose ends, like with the Slapsgiving episode, that was a filler but it wasn't boring to watch (although it may be problematic for different reasons, I'm not Chinese, so I can't say for sure if it's cultural appropriation or just the authors making fun of a particular movie genre).Â
Some episodes were arguably great: "Daisy" was amazing, and that whole fight between Marshall and Lily was so realistic and well thought out, "Sunrise" was extremely important for Ted's character development, same goes for Tracy and "How Your Mother Met Me", "Bedtime stories" was impressive, "Rally" was incredibly funny and proved once again what a beautiful character Barney Stinson is, so much so that even Robin never has doubts that he (the guy with the biggest commitment issues on the planet) will bail on her before the wedding, and says to Ted that "he always comes back". Daphne's character is super funny and the right amount of annoying, the shenanigans of the gang are well thought out and all of the characters (not just Barney) complete their arc in this season. The last two/three episodes butcher that.
Marshall and Lily
Marshall and Lily, arguably the world's most solid couple, are the only thing this God-awful finale gets right, especially Marshall, who is my second-favourite character, that finally gets everything he deserves. But what about Lily? They never mention her career after Italy, and I refuse to believe she goes back to being a kindergarten teacher as if her year in Rome meant nothing. I also refuse to think she becomes nothing but a political wife, the equivalent of Zoey, but without saving the world. We know she has three kids, but her postpartum depression is never really talked about much and they definitely had the screentime to delve into it.Â
Barney
 Where do I even begin? Barney Stinson is, without a doubt, the best character in this series, the glue of the whole gang. I think the message they were trying to give is that, since his trauma stemmed from the absence of a father figure in his life, he could only truly heal by becoming a father as well. People also say that n°31 had to stay just a number, because who could match up with Barney Stinson? First of all, I call BULSHIT on that last point, because Robin wasn't the only girl Barney could have ended up marrying. I used to think that too, but it's just not true: that is the equivalent of saying that Barney was incapable to truly love a woman and commit to her, even after all the development he got, and that he only got one shot at love in life, and that's it. This goes against the point the showrunners try to make by having Ted and Robin end up together AND by having Tracy get with Ted in the first place: "it's never too late, you always have another chance at love, etc." And, let's face it, Barney and Robin are legendary, but Barney and Nora (hell, even Barney and Quinn!) were pretty good together too.Â
Second of all, if they wanted to give Barney a kid, they could have easily done that, before Barney married Robin. Barney's "redemption" starts when he gets with Robin the first time, hell maybe even when we meet James for the first time: Nora, Quinn, finding out who his father is, the episode dedicated to the lies his mum told him/finding James' father, him getting to know his own dad, etc... those are all steps along the way. The s9 episode where Barney accepts the relationship between Loretta and the reverend proves how far he's come. So why not give him a daughter BEFORE he proposes to Robin? Have him cheat on Nora/Quinn with n°31, giving him a relapse, and having him get closer to Robin while struggling to be a dad to Ellie. That would have been great.Â
Or, you know, don't give him children. What's the point of burning the Playbook if you're going to have him write the second edition? What's the point of having him do a complete 180 in the last few scenes and acting like having a kid is the only thing that makes him change? What's the point of doing that when the show spends entire episodes berating Marshall and Lily for "changing too much" when they have a kid?
Also, Barney is the "challenge accepted" guy. He loves his wife so much, he spent years wanting her, and then he gives up because there is no WiFi in his hotel. How does that make any sense at all? This is Barney Stinson, the "I will fly out to San Francisco and buy Lily a plane ticket", the "I will steal every girl from my best friend just to save him for Lily", the guy that wrote the Playbook (it takes effort to pull those plays off), the guy that planned for weeks his proposal, the guy that waited years to get back at the man who stole his first girlfriend, the guy that makes every night legendary... are you telling me that that guy becomes the equivalent of a bored housewife instead of living his best life while travelling the world? Come on. They don't even try to make it believable.
Ted
While watching seasons 7 and 8, I felt that Ted was becoming the worst character on the show: he was boring, depressed, basically had no good storylines, the whole thing with Victoria was pointless and inconclusive (and the whole "stop being in love with Robin" was completely out of character for her), but whatever, we could have accepted that because it passed the message that two people could be good together, without being soulmates - which, by the way, renders the TedxRobin ship pointless, because they were right for each other, but Ted and Tracy were soulmates. Him being hung up on Robin in the latter seasons is almost pathetic, and the thing he does with the locket is insane, not romantic - BUT I will say this: it can be seen in two ways, depending on who's watching. I personally like the two as friends, so I see the whole thing as a "Dahmer" situation, but I get the people who see it as a "Dobler" one and see what he did as a grand romantic gesture.Â
The problem, though, is that the whole TedxRobin ship gets pretty old, pretty fast: it's an annoying on-and-off thing, that should have ended with the locket. Because, yes, Ted was in a dark moment, yes, he was probably depressed, yes, he thought Robin was his only shot at happiness, but he changes during season nine! He spends entire episodes letting go of Robin, including the one where she transforms into a balloon and flies away. Ted is the good guy, ultimately. He is the guy that is genuinely happy for his best friends. In one of the deleted scenes from the finale, he meets Robin years later and says that he's so happy with Tracy he never thought about Robin in that way anymore. All of that gets thrown in the trash. Why do that? To use a Harry Potter metaphor, Ted is Severus Snape, while Barney is James Potter: the former loved the girl of his dreams with all his heart, even to the point of creepiness, but they weren't meant to be together.Â
Robin
This, along with the next point, is the worst of all: Robin is the worst character of the entire finale. Her relationship with Ted in season 2 is wonderful, and I say that as a full-on Barney/Robin shipper. There was never a problem in their relationship, apparently, but they then break up because they have an "expiration date" and ultimately want different things in life. Except that Ted is not her soulmate. The only times when Robin wants Ted are the times where (1) she can't have him because he's either trying to move on or (2) the times where it's convenient, for example when they become roommates again and they solve their disputes again. Around that time, we see perfectly that Ted had moved on and that the person getting hurt was Barney. It's one thing to see Ted and Robin in the finale as two people picking up where they had left off after they dated. But this is not the case.Â
In season 7, we have the exchange that should have put an end to any and all TedxRobin drama, and that completely invalidates whatever the writers wrote after that about the two of them: Ted declares his love - "I think you know how you feel about me now. I don't think time's gonna change that. Just tell me: do you love me?" To which she answers "No". And Ted also says later to Marshall, that he's "happy because he can finally move on".Â
What a load of crap.Â
Getting over someone is hard, believe me, I would know. And, oftentimes, it doesn't happen until we find someone else to love (and from the moment he meets Tracy, there is no one else for Ted). But by giving Ted feelings for Robin after this moment, it takes away from the beauty of it- because it's one of the most heartbreaking feelings in the world when you declare your love to someone and they don't love you back. Ted and Robin were both honest at that moment, and it was the last genuinely good exchange between them. After that, during season 8 they try to show us Ted trying to get over her (and failing) and in season 9 Ted getting over her completely. This is also weirdly paced because at the beginning of s8 both are in happy relationships with other people and there's no jealousy (which is good, because at least they weren't toxic) and they seem just friends (when Robin leaves Nick to go see him in the middle of the night, she implies that she would do it for any of her friends), but after Ted breaks up with Veronica because of Robin everything is weirdly coated in this sort of tension between the two: first Ted loves her, but she doesn't, so when he helps her by taking her to Barney's proposal ("which means my best bro in the world has given me his blessing").Â
And, by the way, every time they try to paint Ted as the guy that comes through for Robin after this moment, they dumb down Barney's character. And still fail to make Ted a better guy than him (see: the carousel in Central Park).Â
Yes, Robin and Ted have some chemistry, but it is nothing compared to what Robin and Barney have. Every time Robin is jealous of Barney, it doesn't seem like a stupid whim, just because some other child is playing with her toys (except, perhaps, during The Robin). Robin and Barney's relationship would need a whole other post, and the next time I rewatch the series I will write down all the things that make them perfect for each other, but, to me, the biggest difference between the two relationships is this: in season 6, when she's not dating either one of them, Ted accuses Robin of never making him feel needed while they were together, whereas Barney praises her for it. Those are elective affinities: that's what Barney and Robin have, and what Tracy and Ted have.Â
Barney and Robin have more or less the same arc: they both get over their fear of commitment and they do that with each other. Time and time again, we are told that if they're ever going to settle down, it would only be with the other. The first time they break up is honestly so stupid, and even when they are broken up, they are the best of friends, which also makes Robin's behaviour in the finale look so stupid. The way the two of them fit together is unparalleled, both in a romantic and a platonic way.Â
Think about it: Robin makes Barney a better man, while she makes Ted a worse one.Â
Also, the whole point that there are different seasons in life for everything gets thrown out the window: apparently, Ted and Robin (that were a couple that ultimately worked in their young twenties) are the same people in their forties.
But that's not even the worst part. The worst part is that the two final episodes butcher Robin's arc as well: episode 23 starts with Lily saying "I want this girl to be in our lives" and we know Robin never made other friends outside of the gang, because she didn't need to, and now she walks away from everything because of fucking Ted?? This is saying "hey, Robin was only in the group for Ted, who brought her in, and now she leaves because he's not her puppy anymore". Robin was the one that was eternally indecisive between Ted and Barney and you're telling me that three years and many many life experiences later, she's still not sure?Â
The point of her story is learning how to get over her fear of commitment, learning how to be there for her friends (there's an entire episode dedicated to that, and it's the one where Lily's pregnant and we meet Robin's ex-best friend in Canada), and how to balance her job and her life. Also, the way her character is treated is un-feminist and un-progressive: she becomes Ted's consolation prize. She is passive throughout s9. She cannot, ultimately, win the modern-day struggle most women have and balance out career and love life, so her true life, her "happy chapter" begins after she has already accomplished everything she wanted to and she's free for Ted. She doesn't even go back to him, she just the prize the main character wanted for all his life and only got in the end because his wife died (ONE SCENE, people, ONE SCENE!). Also, this makes Tracy the "broodmare" that gives him the kids he wanted, and his "happy family" experience before he goes to be with his one true love.Â
The mother
This. This makes me so mad. One whole season spent on building up Tracy's character, just for it to go to waste. It would have been so easy to screw her up, but she is hands down the best thing about s9. She's the perfect woman for Ted and the episode shot through her perspective is the sweetest. By the end, I liked her more than Robin and Lily. She was the perfect addition to their group, she fit together with them in a perfect way, and they show us the biggest moment of her and Ted's life... for what? To have her die in a few sentences? And I don't care if they shot a funeral scene, I don't care if the finale was supposed to be 40 minutes long, because, in the end, it wasn't. The scene where Ted meets her is the second most beautiful one (after Barney's proposal to Robin) and the climax of the whole show, but they ruin her... and for what? The chemistry Ted has with her, he has with no one. The joy she brings him, the way she understands him, is unlike any other. I am sure that one of the reasons they killed her off was the shock value and I hate it.Â
I cannot stress this enough: Tracy makes Ted a better person. When he's with Robin, Ted is "the nice guy" in the most selfish and narcissistic version of the trope. When he's with Tracy, love comes easy to Ted. Also, the scenes between the two of them are arguably the best Ted scenes of the show.
The kids' reactions (ugh)
It's not really what they say- it's the way they say it. The end of HIMYM was not supposed to be funny, even though the show is a sitcom. It was supposed to be bittersweet and beautiful, because it's the end of an era, and the writers must have known that. So, Ted finishes telling his story, reveals to the audience that their now-beloved Tracy is dead, and the reaction is: "No, ahah, you totally have the hots for Aunt Robin" (their words, not mine). Like, what the actual fuck? I cringed when Penny said that. It's tasteless and not fun at all. Even if it has been six years... It's still your fucking mum, show a little bit of sadness at the thought of her.Â
The reason the show ended this way
What makes me especially mad is that I know for a fact that the reason they went with this ending is that it was the original one, always intended for the show, from season 2 onwards. And, if you watch it right after s2, it makes sense. But if you consider the eight years that passed and the massive character development, then no, it's not the best possible one. So many things hadn't been decided yet back in s2, especially about Barney, Ted, and Robin, and I hate that they didn't dare to scrap their work. This ending probably had sentimental meaning to the writers, but authors have to do what's best for their characters, not themselves. It's like with GoT, in a way: I think that the authors were all too aware of the impact of HIMYM and didn't believe that their finale would live up to the expectations... which compelled them to make the worst decision possible?? Every single character is OOC during the episode. Oh, and Marshall and Lily moving in the last episode is a ripoff from Friends (or maybe a tribute? Idk). Anyway, I believe that the authors were too attached to their sentimental version of "what should have been" and didn't give the characters the endings they truly deserved.
"Life works this way" // "Life only moves forward"
Some people say that the show is realistic because that's how life works. But I call super-BS on that. That might be true, and yes, people do get sick and die (Max, Marshall's dad...) and life does go on. But then, you don't frame it the way they did. It's just bad storytelling if you do it like that. And the problem is not the structure of season 9, because the characters develop in that season. The problem isn't even the mother's death. The problem is Ted ending up with Robin because that's not life moving forward for him, that's him, doing the same thing he did in 2005, 25 (twenty-fucking-five) years before!Â
In conclusion, this finale is incoherent and inconclusive, and not satisfying at all. The only character that gets a good ending is Marshall: why is that? What makes his ending great? It's the fact that his character arc is respected and he finally gets what he's been working towards for more than ten years.
#himym#how i met your mother#how i met your mother spoilers#how i met your mother finale#09x23#09x24#robin sherbatsky#ted mosby#tracy mcconnell#barney stinson#marshall eriksen#lily aldrin#swarkles#ted x robin#ted x tracy#barney x robin#a rant#the blue french hor#the yellow umbrella
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genshin modern au cheat sheet
iâm planning to do more pieces set in this au, so iâve put together a quick list of the characters i'm planning to write about/include!
there are three main groups here - the zhao family, the ragnvindr family and friends, and the Miscellaneous Palsâ˘
(the next volume in this au is going to be a xiao piece, and that should be up within the next two or so days!)
1. the zhao family
zhongli, 36: history professor at the local uni who also plays the guzheng very well, tea-enjoyer, a very proud and supportive dad who loves his kids more than anything in the universe - probably unironically has so many pictures of them in his wallet
xiao, 23: taking a degree in psychology at the local uni, has a cool motorbike, bit of a control freak, doesnât like surprises, will drop-kick you if you look at him or his sister funny, wants a cat but his dadâs allergic, never really grew out of his emo phase
yanfei, 19: baby of the family, prodigy lawyer-in-training, far smarter than many people give her credit for, likes building snowmen, has to protect her unsuspecting dad from Evil Salespeople looking to make some extra money
xiao and yanfei are biological siblings, and zhongli adopted them when xiao was 11 and yanfei was 7. the circumstances of this adoption is a mystery that none of the zhao family members seem willing to divulgeâŚ
the zhao siblings can have a little bit of tragic backstory. as a treat.
basically they were born into poverty and often went hungry for days on end. biological parents were distant and neglecting (though not actually physically/emotionally abusive - yet.)
when xiao was caught shoplifting bread and fruit from a local grocery store so that he and yanfei could actually eat, both parents went ballistic and kicked him out the house in the middle of one of the coldest winters the town had seen
poor kid was practically freezing to death out there, and yanfei raised such a fuss back in the house that mum slapped her square in the face to get her to shut up, which xiao saw through the window, and he promptly decided that he Was Not Putting Up With This Shit for any longer
immediately went to a neighbourâs house and told them what was going on, neighbours promptly called cps, and an investigation was launched
parents were deemed unsuitable for raising kids and (after a lot of back and forth) the two kids were taken into care
meanwhile zhongli was kind of sad because he had no friends or family in this town and all he really did was write articles, read books, and mark work
then one of his co-workers mentioned hearing about xiao and yanfeiâs story and it hit zhongli so hard that he immediately rang up the adoption centre and ended up taking them in
and from then on both yanfei and xiao were very happy and healthy because zhongli was literally the best dad ever and put everything into taking care of them
2. the ragnvindr family (+ friends)
diluc, 29: budding businessman who still works at his dadâs cafe but is looking to open up his own company some time soon, still buys himself juice in those little cartons with the straws, still doesnât know how raising bread works?? how does it get bigger???
diona, 7: dilucâs adopted daughter who has her father firmly under her thumb, bit of a spitfire but can also be the sweetest kid ever, enjoys making âpotionsâ out of grass and flowers and water (diluc can and will actually drink these potions because his love for his daughter knows no bounds)
kaeya, 25: dilucâs idiot little brother whoâs changed majors at least five times and still doesnât really know what he wants to do, practises fencing and horse riding in his spare time like a nerd, spoils his niece rotten
lisa, 26: the first of kaeyaâs three roommates, has a degree in english and could easily have gone on to become a leading scholar but chose to instead open a bookshop that gets way more business than expected because sheâs pretty and men and women alike are all simps
albedo, 23: the second of kaeyaâs roommates, bit of a genius, has already started his chemistry phd, is almost concerningly pale and exhausted at all times, has not gone a day without breaking one of the cups for at least two years
venti, 21: the third of kaeyaâs roommates, studying music, acts way older than he is sometimes but is mostly just a child, asks at least one of his roommates to marry him every day without fail, was and still is both a music and a theatre kid
lisaâs actually the one who owns the roommatesâ residence because itâs on top of her bookshop
i was going to keep the whole ragnvindr family trauma thing but i decided that diluc deserved to be happy in at least one au so the brothers are still happy brothers :D
unfortunately that means that iâve transferred a lot of the family trauma over to diona
essentially her mother died when she was a baby and her father, draff, turned to alcohol to get him through the stress of raising a child alone. unfortunately this led to him drunk driving one day, and he crashed the car into one of the wallâs of dilucâs dadâs cafe.
draff died on impact since he was in the front seat, but three-year-old diona managed to pull through despite her injuries. one thing led to another, diluc ended up taking care of her for a bit while the authorities sorted the whole thing out, but then he got too attached and decided to adopt her permanently
now diona has a dad, three uncles and an aunt who are all willing to shower her with all the love she deserves :â)))))
3. the Miscellaneous Palsâ˘:
xiangling, xingqiu, chongyun, 17: local high school kids, theyâre all kind of dating each other, low-key got adopted by xiao at one point, guoba is xianglingâs guinea pig and they all have joint custody over him
barbara, bennett, razor, 17: also local high school kids, also kind of all dating each other (but a lot more tentatively), regulars at dilucâs cafe, almost never seen apart
lumine, aether, ??: they keep showing up here and there around town to climb a tree and just sit there throwing leaves at people on the streets, then disappear. no one knows who the fuck they are
tartaglia, 23: nicknamed childe by his friends, also known as Mr Moneybags, is always just hanging around the local uni campus but doesnât actually study anything there. his real name is ajax, but he thought that was lame so he gave himself a cool new one
eula, 24: new teacher at the local high school, her father used to be headmaster and was notoriously cruel to his students so everyoneâs kind of wary of her, but sheâs just really sweet and wants the best for her pupils :(((
amber, 21: number one eula defender, teaches the younger kids at the local primary, likes bunsen burners a little bit too much, still canât remember how to spell the word necessary
hu tao, 25?: shady local mortician who may or may not practise illegal things, was kind of dating yanfei at some point but zhongli sent her packing as soon as he realised who she was, no one knows what her deal is
xianglingâs already a budding master chef and has received several offers from culinary schools, xingqiu is planning to study literature/language at uni but also might just go straight to trying to get a book published, chongyun is going to continue the family tradition of studying the supernatural with maybe a side job at xianglingâs future restaurant so that he doesnât end up with no money if he doesnât get any supernatural work
barbara is planning to go to medical school and also sings/dances in her spare time, bennett still doesnât know what he wants to do but is considering carpentry among other things, and razor is dead-set on working at either a zoo or an animal shelter when heâs older
tartaglia never leaves the house without at least three pocket knives and a water pistol. heâs never had to use them yet, but you never know...
eula and amber live together and are probably dating but theyâll both just dodge the question if you ask them about it
theyâre most definitely together though because on eulaâs birthday amber brought her entire class of little kids to say happy birthday and bring her flowers
(incidentally amber is dionaâs teacher)
#genshin impact#genshin impact imagines#modern au#genshin zhongli#genshin yanfei#genshin xiao#genshin diluc#genshin diona#genshin kaeya#genshin lisa#genshin albedo#genshin venti#genshin childe#genshin tartaglia#genshin eula#genshin amber#genshin barbara#genshin razor#genshin bennett#genshin xiangling#genshin xingqiu#genshin chongyun#genshin lumine#genshin aether#whew that's a lotta characters#zhao family#ragnvindr family and friends#Miscellaneous Palsâ˘
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BILLY â Kim Taehyung (3)
Synopsis: News of a Sadistic Serial Killer nicknamed âJigsawâ is spreading around town like wildfire⌠the nickname stemming from the puzzle piece he cuts from every victimâs body. No one knows who heâll trap next but in a town full of delinquents and criminals, it could never be you. Right?
Pairing: yandere!Taehyung x f!reader
genre: angst, horror, weirdly some fluff lol
Warnings: dark themes, yandere, stalking, manipulation, conditioning, mentions of abuse, suicidal ideations/attempts, self harm, murder, depictions of torture etc (basically its gorey and fucked up), angel trap, etc stabbing and guns. do not read if triggered!!!!
wordcount: 2.2k
taglist: @yes-sol-not-soul @yoongiofmine
a/n: pt 3 is here!! honestly i wasnt expecting this amount of support as iâve never published my writing before so thank u sm ⥠i was inspired to write this one night and i had no idea where itâd go or anything but iâm happy with the way its turning out :D fun fact abt me, iâve been obsessed w the franchise since i was little and i actually have 2 saw tattoos, one of billy and one above saying âcherish your lifeâ since thatâs pretty much the motto of saw :) and i have quite the collection of saw/billy items so why not turn my fav horror film into a fucked up love story! let me know if u would like to be added to the taglist and pls enjoy reading^^ feel free to send me asks abt the series or anything u want~ i love hearing from u guys!! :D psâ taehyung and the reader dont have much interaction in this part,, theyll definitely be more of them together in part 4 :) unedited so pls excuse any mistakes!! tysm <33 and remember these are fictional characters and do not represent bts personally in any way!!
series masterlist
part one part two
The headlines constantly named the Jigsaw Killer, Billy. The somewhat eerie little doll that had a face as white as a Calla Lily with spirals on itâs cheeks as red as the blood that was shed during the tests. Billy was always dressed in a little black suit with a red bowtie and he was (most of the time) situated on a squeaky battered tricycle. Attached was always a tape that read âplay meâ and when the subjects did, a chilling voiceâ one that could make even the world's worst predators shiver with terrorâ would echo around the room.
Everyone knew that a doll clearly wasnât responsible, yet they gave it the name Billy in hopes to somewhat humanise the face that instilled panicâ they did not want to live in fear.
It was the only face behind the killings.
But this time, there was a different subject stuck in the test and Billy had made sure there was no way for them to survive.
âHow are you scared of heights? Youâre practically a giant yourself!â
âJust because Iâm tall doesnât mean I canât be scared of heights Y/Nie.â
You had no idea how long had passed since Taehyung had turned up at the garage, you were too busy chatting away squeezed into the kitchen while your Dad, Yoongi and Hobi worked on the cars in the shop. If anyone could hear you both, they would think youâd known eachother since childhoodâ the playful jokes and light touches exaggerated that.
Youâd only known him for a few hours really, if you added the time spent with him on the first day and now. It hadnât seemed like all those weeks ago that you first met, he had a familiar presence, as though you had known him for years compared to the hours.
âI just wouldnât imagine you to be scared of anything Taehyung⌠you seem so confident and fearless.â
You saw the way Taehyung looked at you. His eyes flashed with understanding.
âI did have my fears back then, much like yours.â
âWhat do you mean?â you had a rough idea on what he meant but you needed him to voice it.
A deep inhale and the words flowed from his lips before he could stop it, âThe fear of living. I had been through some stuff you know, growing up. My mum was working a lot and my dad was an alcoholic, he was so fucking possessive and wouldnât let her go anywhere without kicking off. It was a fucking shitshow and so toxic. This one time though, Iâd pretended that Iâd gone to school and waited outside the front door. It didnât take long before I heard shit getting smashed and my dad shouting.â Taehyung was telling the truth only, he left out the part where he was also as possessive, if not more, than his father. Well, let's say⌠obsessive. âI just ran in the house and saw my dad towering over my mum and I donât remember what happened but, I do remember my mum crying and my dad disappeared.â
Now Taehyung was lying through his teeth. He remembered clearly, almost like it was yesterday. He smashed the nearest bottle, pulled his mother away from the monster that scared her and stabbed him. Not just once, not twice but thirty-seven times. Hence the thirty seven tattoo on the palm of his right hand (the one heâd actually killed his father with). There was only Taehyung who knew what it meant, he counted every single time the broken glass pierced his fatherâs body, he counted with a smile on his face and a chuckle in his throat.
You were at a loss for words. Your mouth gaped in shock, eyes wide and your brain scrambled for the right thing to say. You reached over and grabbed his hand, interlacing your fingers. His thumb running back and forth along your hand. âIâm sorry, I canât imagine what that mustâve been like.â There was no way you could relate, your mother and father were happy and in love. They had the ideal relationship, one you wished for yourself. You could empathise though.
âYou donât need to be sorry baby, itâs in the past and Iâve moved on from it. I was like you though, poisoned by the roots that keep you on the ground even though you wanted nothing more than to break free and be no longer.â A silence fell over you both before Taehyung uttered, âI wasnât successful with my attempt so now Iâm here to help you.â
Warmth spread throughout your body, a smile graced your features as you no longer felt alone.
You had a completely different idea to what those words actually meant.
It was nearing the evening when Taehyungâs car had been fixed. Yoongi popped his head in the kitchen to tell him but stopped himself so as to not interrupt the scene before him. You were laughing along to whatever Taehyung was babbling about with your hand resting on his bicep, with that look in your eyes that he hadnât seen for years. Yoongi felt himself smile as he saw you hanging onto Taehyung's every word.
For the first time in forever, you looked alive.
Yoongi cleared his throat which drew yours and Taehyungâs attention, âSorry to interrupt guys. Weâve finished with your car so whenever youâre ready weâll be outside.â The infamous gummy smile overtook his features, you felt yourself beam in return.
âThanks man! Iâll be like, five minutes.â
Yoongi nodded his head in reply and swiftly left the room.
Youâd taken Taeâs hand into yours, playing with the array of rings that occupied his fingers. Solemn thoughts overtook, am I not gonna see him again? Was this, whatever this is, over before it had even begun? Your eyes stayed on his hand as you turned it over and traced your finger over the inked âthirty sevenâ on his palm. âWhat does this mean?â
Taehyung didnât think twice before he practically beamed out, âItâs my lucky number.â
The difference was, it wasnât really his lucky number⌠although he did see it that way. It was the number that had stayed with him. It was something he was proud of, whenever he looked at the hand that killed his father, his chest filled with pride and a joyous feeling overtook his senses. It was his first murder. Something he relished in and thus, created the onslaught of Jigsaw killings. He targeted a certain typeâ those whose sins would lock them up forever if they were ever found out. Racists, murderers, rapists, drug dealers, con-men. Authoritative figures who abused their power. He even went as far as subjecting suicidal people.
You see, things arenât sequential. Good doesnât lead to good, nor bad to bad. People who steal, donât get caught, they live the good life. Others lie, cheat and get elected.
Some people would call it karma but Taehyung, he called it justice.
Heâd started this with one thing on his mindâ those that donât appreciate life do not deserve it.
Whenever a serial killer was on the loose, the press did what they always did. They gave them a nickname. While the public had named the doll Billy. The actual killer was named âJigsawâ.
This stemmed from the jigsaw piece that was cut from the victims skin, no one knew why he was doing it or what it even stood for.
It did have a meaning although unknown to the public.
The jigsaw piece that was cut from the subjects was only ever meant to be a symbol that that subject was missing something. A vital piece of the human puzzle. The survival instinct.
After all, until a person is faced with death, itâs impossible to tell whether they have what it takes to survive.
Across town an underground abandoned warehouse, was where the next subject had found themselves.
They were suspended in the air, their feet merely dangling above the ground. The putrid smell of death lingered in every crevice, the sound of rats scurrying along the concrete floor filled their ears just as they began to stir awake.
A pain in their ribs was the overwhelming factor to them finally coming around. When they groggily opened their eyes, they were paralised with fear due to the scene in front of them.
A doll sat a few feet ahead, perched upon a tricycle. Adorned with a black suit and a red bowtie. A slow red light flashed in his eyes.
Billy.
Before the subject could even register how, when or why they found themselves trapped in a test, footsteps echoed behind them. The subject called out, âHelp! Please, somebody help! I shouldnât be here!â
A tsk reached their ears, as a disembodied voice replied, âTrust me, no one can hear you. Scream all you like. Youâd just be wasting your breath, you may as well cherish it before it's gone.â
With hairs stood on end, the subject stilled. âWhat do you want from me?â
âI donât want anything from you.â The man's footsteps grew louder. âIâm here to serve justice, thatâs all.â
The man rounded the subject, settling in their view with only his cloaked back visible while he tended to the little doll. He touched Billy delicatelyâlike he was a little child that he loved dearly. He combed his gloved hand through the doll's black hair and eventually pulled his fingers from the tresses to pat his head gently.
âYou fucking psycho! Let me go!â
He couldnât help but laugh at that which only infuriated the subject more causing them to shake in anger, a movement they soon ceased when they realised something was penetrating their ribs.
âIâd be very careful if I was you, we wouldnât want you hurting yourself now⌠would we?â The cloaked figure spun around. An angry glint to his eye.
âWhat the fuck, youâre fucking crazy. Let me out, this isnât right!â The subject tried their hardest to swing their legs, to somehow kick the man whoâd imprisoned them.
âI think youâll find it is right. Youâre unworthy of the body you possess.â He inched closer, âsee, when someone purposely intends to harm others, they lose their right to life.â
âWhat the fuck are you talking about?â
The man arched a brow as he replied, âDonât play dumb. You know exactly what Iâm talking about.â He felt like it was a game of cat and mouse except, he was a tiger and his subject, was the tiniest prey to mankind. âBut, let me remind you! Since you canât get your thick fucking head to work. Youâre a liar, a cheater and an abuser. That ring any bells?â
The subject's face dropped.
âAh, I see by your expression you know exactly what Iâm talking about! Glad to see weâre on the same page.â He shrugged his cloak off placing it to the side of the doll. âI want to play a game.â
âWhat game? This isnât a fucking game! Youâre sick in the head you fucking cunt!â
The atmosphere shifted, the man remained calm while the subject went ballistic.
âWhat is this? What fucking game?â
âYou feel the machine thatâs currently occupying your ribs? Well, in about ten minutes thatâs going to rip you apart. Iâm proud to say that trap is my baby. Iâve been working on it especially for you! How nice is that?â he reached out to tug at the subjectâs legs, tormenting them like a cat would a mouse. âAnyway, as my beautiful angel trap will rip you apart, my darling little friend Billy over here,â the subject followed the direction the man's hand pointed, âis going to match your face with the ugliness of your soul.â
âFuck, fuck this! How do I stop it? Tell me how I fucking stop it!â
A boxy grin overtook the man's face, laughter poured from his mouth as he leaned over and slapped the subjectâs leg. âThis is a special game.â
âWho are you? What do you mean by âspecial gameâ?â
He raised himself so he stood tall and grabbed a knife from his pocket, âIâm the man you call Jigsaw.â He traced the tip of the knife along the subjectâs ankle, âand when I say a special game⌠I mean you canât get out.â While the subject was screaming in realisation, Taehyung walked back for his cloak, hung it over his shoulder and stalked off back the way he came. He sent one last smile to the subject as he rounded them and within the blink of an eye, he gripped the knife and slashed the subjectâs achilles.
A chilling scream pierced the eerie atmosphere, the subject couldnât string words together. Abundances of anxiety, terror and pure panic took reign of their body. Taehyung grabbed the injured muscles and forced his gloved fingers in as he gripped and twisted them, âThatâs for Y/N.â
Taehyung had pressed the timer before he cut the subjectâs tendons. He grabbed the tape from his pocket and threw it on the ground and with a chuckle he shouted, âGame over!â
Before he reached the end of the hallway, he heard the gunshots pierce his subjects face followed by the sound of the angel trap, even this far away Taehyung heard every crack of the ribs and the noise of the body being tore apart.
Without looking back, Taehyung rounded the corner and slammed the door shut.
Heâd chosen the Angel trap for the irony, the subject that was currently hanging from the ceiling was no angel. They were a fucked up, evil, waste of space. Taehyung had done the world a favour, heâd done you a favour.
That got him thinking, how much blood would you shed in order to stay alive?
[a/n: who do we think was in the trap???đ]
#yandere taehyung#bts horror#dark bts#yandere bts#mafia bts#kim taehyung au#kim taehyung mafia#taehyung x reader#taehyung angst#bts angst#taehyung x you#kim taehyung x reader#yandere jin#yandere hoseok#yandere yoongi#yandere namjoon#yandere jungkook#yandere bts x reader#yandere au#bts fic#billyjigsaw!taehyung#john kramer!taehyung#billy kth au#un2verse#bts mafia au#taehyung scenarios#kim taehyung scenario#bts horror au
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Remember Us - part 2
Double feature this week. Here we go with part 2. Rowan takes another step on the path of recovering his life.
Also, we get to meet the kids <3
------
When Aelin got home that night after her shift at the hospital, she was tired and not just from the long hours spent in OR. She was tired in her soul. Aelin had managed to keep her thoughts at bay while operating, but as soon as she was out they came back. It had been hard to fight the urge to go and see him again. He wanted space. That was clear so she just went home instead.
Once she crossed the threshold, laughter welcomed her. Her kids sounded happy.
She shed her coat and removed her shoes and followed the happy sounds.
Walking into the kitchen she found her mother cooking and Thomas helping her setting the table and little Freyja banging her plastic cutlery on her high chair. She was a shy girl but would become alive and loud when she was hungry. Just like her mum.
âMama!â Shouted her daughter as she spotted her.
âMum,â Thomas echoed his sister and ran to her, hugging Aelin at her knees âhi my darling, how are you?â She kneeled at his height and ruffled his blonde hair.
âHelping grandma cook.â
âFood.â Shouted Freyja who got agitated trying to get the attention of her mother. Aelin went to her daughter and lifted the wee girl in her arms âhi my love,â and she snuggled her head against her motherâs chest.
âHi mum,â said Aelin to Evalin. The woman stirred something in the pan and turned to her daughter âwelcome back, darling.â She said and her gaze turned worried at her daughterâs tired expression.
Aelin shook her head, knowing what her mother was about to say âlater,â she added. She did not want to talk about Rowan in front of the kids.
âCome on Tom, sit at the table. Dinner is ready.â On his grandmaâs orders the boy climbed on his chair and started eating his meal.
Aelin joined them a moment later, all changed in house clothes and sat at her daughterâs side.
Thomas was three and had just started learning how to use a fork properly. They would cut the food for him and he would try to use the utensil. Rowan had been teaching him. A pang of sadness hit her and pushed back the tears, now it was not the time. She would feed Freyja who was only eighteen months old.
âDid you help grandma cook?â
The boy nodded while taking a bite from his fork and gave her a big smile. His green eyes lighting up with joy. Eyes just like his fatherâs.
âAelin, let me feed Freyja. You have your dinner. You havenât touched it yet.â
Aelin shook her head âI am fine. It can wait.â
Truth was⌠she felt nauseous and that feeling had nothing to do with being pregnant. It was fear. Terror of losing Rowan. Terror that he would never recover his memories and her kids would be left without a father and her without her soulmate. She almost lost him once. She would never forget the day she got the call from the hospital. Those horrible moments were forever etched in her memory.
Later on that night, once the kids were in bed Evalin joined her daughter on the sofa and brought her a chamomile tea.
âThe kids are asleep. Whatâs troubling you?â
Aelin sighed and her hand went to her stomach âRowan woke up.â
âToday?â
She nodded in confirmation and leaned her head on her motherâs shoulder âI had just left the OR when I got a page from his doctor. I went to his room and he was awake,â a loud sob broke from her lips âhe does not remember me or the kids.â
Evalin pulled her daughter closer and hugged her knowing the pain she had been feeling for the past month âYrene had told you it might happen.â
Aelin nodded slightly âI didnât think it could hurt that much. He had no idea who I was. He doesnât remember our kids.â Her sobs turned into proper crying âI am so scared, mum. So, so scared.â
âI know, darling.â Evalin kissed her daughterâs head âyou will have to be strong a bit longer. Does the doctor think he will regain his memory?â
Aelin gave her a small nod âbut it might take time and what if he realises that he doesnât want us in his life anymore?â
âRowan loves you and the kids madly. The road ahead might be bumpy but he will come back.â A ragged breath escaped from Aelin. She hoped her mother was right, because if she was not she doubted she would survive loosing him a second time.
*
Rowan woke up the next morning with an horrendous headache. He had a fitful sleep and his thoughts had been stuck all night on her. Aelin. His wife. At her side two small shadows representing their kids. In his mind he had this picture of him holding someone, the smell of lemon and verbena strong around him. But he was sure it was more a feeling than an actual memory. He had woken up all of a sudden and hadnât been able to fall asleep properly since. His body recognised the other one.Â
A nurse brought breakfast and of one thing he was sure. He hated hospital food. Which led to another series of questions. What did he eat for breakfast? Was he a good cook? What was his favourite food?
Reluctantly he finished the food on his tray and decided to kill the boredom by watching tv. According to the news it was January and the meteorologist were warning all the citizens of Terrasen of a snowstorm warning.
He was so bored watching the news that he felt glad when Aelin knocked on the doorframe âMind if I come in?â
He shook his head âis tv always this boring?â
Aelin chuckled and for a second she saw a glimpse of him. He always hated tv. The only reason they had one in the house was because she had pestered him about it âyeah. You find reading more interesting.â
He switched off the television and faced her âI amâŚâ he sighed âyesterday⌠I was overwhelmed. It was⌠it still is too much.â
âI know,âsaid Aelin trying to suppress the instinct to touch him. Not until he was okay with it.
âTell me something about me, about my life. Us⌠anything.â He started, eager to know more. He needed it âdo I like breakfast?â
Aelin laughed âyou do, and you are a great cook. On Saturdays you always make us pancakes and let Thomas help you flip them.â She smiled at the image. Thomas on his knees on a chair beside his dad.
âYou are a healthy eater so you tend to scoff enormous quantities of fruit and veggies while complaining about my crazy dietary habits.â
She was dying to show him pictures of the kids but decided against it. One step at a time. Let him become familiar with the idea of being married first.
âYou are a lawyer. A kickass one at that.â His green eyes were trained on her âyou and Lorcan opened your own practice. After graduation you two got a job in a fancy company but eventually got tired of dealing with rich bastards and opened a firm that deals mostly with family law but also offers legal support to us common human beings.â She had been so proud of him. The big job had left him miserable and with very little time to live. He had been stressed and after two years he had realised that the huge salary was not worth it. Lorcan had followed him and together they had started their new adventure. They had started small snd simple, but slowly as they took in more cases they had to start hiring more people and the firm had gotten bigger and successful.
âYou love hiking, nature in general and winter. We are both in love with theatre and on our first date you took me to a play.â
Rowan looked at her and that tug in his chest came back for a visit.
âWe have been married for seven years and you proposed at my best friendâs wedding. We were dancing and you asked me what if we were the next ones to do that? Then you went on one knee and asked me to marry you.â
He kept listening, adding some more pieces of info to what he had gathered so far. And the more Aelin spoke the more that connection he had felt the day before grew stronger.
âWhat type of doctor are you?â
âI am the chief of paediatric neurosurgery and I work two floors above this.â
Rowan took a deep breath and asked a question that had been burning in him since she has appeared âdo you have any photos of us, of the kids?â
Aelin felt like crying and extracted her mobile phone and scrolled through her huge quantity of photos âThis is Thomas. He is three.â
Rowan looked at the boy and saw a blond mop of hair just as golden as his motherâs and two striking green eyes just like his. In the photo the boy was laughing while he held him in his arms.
Aelin swiped and the image of a little girl appeared and he gasped. There was no doubt that she was his daughter. Her hair was silver as his and even her eyes were the exact copy.
âShe is so much like you.â He noticed the smile appearing on Aelinâs face. While she talked about their life her face had lit up and in front of him he had the most stunning woman he had ever seen. Probably. He wasnât sure but Aelin took his breath away.
âAre we happy? As a family?â
Aelin nodded without even thinking about it. They were, she had no doubts about it âYes. We wanted a family, kids. It was our choice.â
Rowan nodded and wanted to believe her, needed to believe the passion and the love in her voice.
âI need time.â He said quietly, averting his gaze from hers for just a brief moment âThis is a lot that I need to process. I will need time but I want to hear more.â
Aelin sobbed and grabbed her backpack and extracted another mobile phone âthis is yours. It survived the crash because you used a military grade protecting cover. I just charged it. The password is 0305.â She gave him the mobile âit has photos, texts. Everything is still there, maybe it will help.â
Aelin looked at her watch and stood âI have to go, I have a surgery in two hours.â
Rowan nodded.
âYou can text me if you want. My contact is under Fireheart.â
He looked at the phone and then at her âwill you come back?â
Aelin took a step toward him and kissed his silver hair as she did the previous day and then nodded.
She waved at him and disappeared through the door.
He moved his attention to the phone and tried to figure out how to switch it on. Once he did it asked him a pin code and he entered the digits she had told him.
Once the phone was unlocked he was welcomed by a picture of him, Aelin and the kids on a beach. He had Freyja on his shoulders and was laughing as she patted his head. Aelin was holding Thomas potato sack style and the boy was grinning. With his fingers he traced her face and then went looking for the photo album. Before opening he hesitated. His life, his memories were there and he was scared.
There were picture of his wife. Plenty of them and she always had an amazing smile. Of one thing he was sure:Aelin took his breath away. Photos of their kids and he spotted one of what he suspected was a newborn Freyja. He held the little bundle in his arms while Thomas was at his side staring at his sister. He saw happiness, he saw joy, but most of all he saw love. Deep love that bound the four of them. Aelin had not lied. They seemed happy. He found photos of what he assumed were friends but he could not tell who they were, he hadnât covered that part yet. Accepting the idea of a wife and kids was hard enough. He was not ready yet to add more people. The mere idea made him feel dizzy.
He was getting tired again even if it was only morning, but he pushed through and found the app with the text messages and went to look at the ones from Aelin and he read the last one she sent him go and win your case and then tonight I will show you how proud I am of my sexy lawyer.
He scrolled back through the thread and read random texts between them until he went back a few months and saw a text with a picture attached.
You are away for work and I miss you. I went for my first proper check-up and I am proud to share with you the picture of the new member of our family. The image was greyish and grainy but the message was clear: Aelin was pregnant again.
He placed the phone on his lap and closed his eyes calming the sense of panic overwhelm him.
And with his eyes closed he tried to remember.
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The friend.
This whole series is based on the one comment that was made to Racehorse towards the end of his episode about him having a daughter. There are no spoilers of the episode and I have been lucky enough that my amazing friend @beccabarba has co written every second chapter of this 10 part series about this amazing cocky and smug man, who we both love!
Warnings: sets the story line, smug and cocky Racehorse and oral smut.Â
WC: 2159
Enjoy x
The fashion industry was cut throat as it was, but in Chicago it was even worse. The backstabbing and the stepping over each other, was next level, but you copped it from another aspect, and sometimes that was harder to deal with. You were born into it, your family one of the most famous in the industry. Much to your mothers disappointment, you hadnât been born with the fashion gene, but you handled the other aspect of the business. You were the inhouse lawyer; you were head of PR and you also managed the models.
Some would say you were one of the most powerful women in the company and sometimes in the industry, the models holding their success in the palm of your hand, so that was held against you a lot. Some looked up to you and others tried to be your friend just for your power alone. But you kept your group small, and as you got older you hired models not just because of their beauty, anyone could be made to look beautiful, but you actually got to know them. The last thing you wanted to be doing was spending a long summer with a bunch boring pretty two-faced people.
Eliana was one of those amazing models. She was extremely beautiful, down to earth, fun to work with, fun to party with and she was actually a friend. You spent so much time together that you both knew everything about each other, about your families and everything in your past. She had been with your families company coming on 3 years, you had been to every photo shoot with her, every fashion week she was in and every abroad trip she had been on, personal training sessions almost every day and multiple late nights out drinking and dancing. You hadnât been in your office for long when your phone buzzed, Elianaâs number flashing on your screen,
âHappy Birthday, Chicaâ
âGracias linda. Thank you for the hamper, I love itâ
âWelcomeâ you smiled over the phone.
âPlease tell me your coming tonight?â
âEliana-â
âDonât you Eliana me. Babe, youâre not too old. No one hates you and I really want you there. Your one of my best friendsâ
âOnly because itâs your birthdayâ
As you drove up the drive to the mansion that was hired for the party, you werenât surprised at the size of it. Eliana had told you all about the strained relationship with her parents and how they both over compensated finically when she asked for it. You had heard all about her Dadâs career, that she didnât know much about other than he was a lawyer and how her Mum moved on with guys half her age to get back at him, you knew how much they fought and about how he still wore his wedding band even after he spilt from her mother just to save face and make everyone think he was a happily married man.
The music was blaring when you got out of the car, a valet taking your keys to move it and you walked inside. You made your way around the luxurious party, gold champagne glasses being passed around on gold trays, an over-the-top table covered from one end to the other with finger food and when you walked out the backdoors, round white tables scattered over the lawn with over-the-top gold center pieces and people scattered everywhere. You had just taken a glass of champagne when you heard your name shrieked across the yard. Eliana walking towards you like she was on the cat walk,
âHappy Birthday, babe.â
âThanks, babe. Iâ am so glad you cameâ she wrapped her arms around you pulling you in for a big hug and she kissed your cheek âWouldnât have been the same without youâ Eliana pulled back, her hands going to your shoulders and her eyes scanning down your body in your powder blue short dress shorts, powder blue tank top and matching blazer âAnd you look fucking sexyâ
You had felt his eyes on you from the moment you walked into the back yard, you blushing at how his brown eyes burnt through you. Everywhere you turned or whomever you spoke to, you could see him watching you. You were speaking to one of the other models you managed when you looked over his shoulder, seeing the handsome stranger standing there on his side. His salt and pepper hair and beard in place perfectly, his grey dress pants fitting just tight enough, his white button-down fitting snug around his chest, his sleeves rolled up showing off his amazing wrists and arms, and the black cowboy boots that made you grin. He must have sensed you starring and he turned his head, giving you a wink and raised his glass to you, his long fingers wrapped around it.
The night was flowing smoothly, mostly everyone you worked with was friendly and talkative. You had a dance and food. You had decided on one more drink after you went to the bathroom to freshen up, your last for the night and just so you had a drink for when the cake was cut. As you washed your hands and reapplied some lipstick, you could hear a voice that made you shiver through the door at the tone it was being spoken in. You listened for moment and then opened the door, gasping when you came face to face with the handsome stranger that you had been eyeing up all night,
âI have to goâ His eyes locked with yours, slipping the phone in his pocket once he hung up. You saw the cheeky glint fill them and a wolfish grin spread across his face âI was hoping I would get to bump into you, sweetums. Having a good night so far?â
Your mouth was too quick for your head, the words coming out before you could stop them,
âBetter now Iâve bumped into youâ you smiled sweetly.
A chuckle left him, his thumb and pointer finger ran around his mouth, smoothed down the beard on his chin and he looked down at his watch. You saw him raise his eye brow and then look back at you, he reaching for your hand and pulled you down the hall way to another door. He opened the door pushing it open and pulled you into the room shutting it behind you both. Your eyes did a quick scan of the four-poster king sized bed before he came up to you grabbing your attention again,
âSo beautifulâ He pulled you into him, his body flush with yours his hands going to your hips and he dipped his head, his lips ghosting yours âAny objections?â he muttered.
âNoneâ you moaned when he pulled your hips into him.
His hot wet lips crashed on yours, the taste of whiskey still on them and his tongue pushed into your mouth, your mouth opening willingly and your tongueâs rolled and moved together. You moaned into his mouth when you felt his hand move from your hip to the hem on your shorts, up your thigh and slip into your panties. His fingers moving through your wet folds. You broke the kiss with a gasp when two of his long fingers pushed up into you, his other hand going into your hair and pulling your head back. Your mouth dropping open when a third fingers joined the others and the pad of his thumb found your clit easily,
âSuch a filthy girl, coming into a room with a strangerâ
You laughed breathlessly, his fingers driving into you hard and deep,
âI âam not the filthy oneâ you panted out âAlways go knuckles deep with women you meet outside of a bathroom?â you moaned, your hands going to grab onto his thick forearms when he hit your sweet spot.
âCheeky and filthy. My favourite combinationâ You saw him bite his bottom lip and look down his nose at you as his fingers drove into you again and he rolled your clit.
You tried not to scream loud while you came hard on his fingers, your walls clamping down on him hard and your knees trembled, your whole-body filling with warmth and your heart beating hard in your chest. Slowly his grip in your hair loosened and he pulled his fingers out of you. As he brought his hand up to your eye line, you could see the shine of your wet on them and he grabbed one of your hands guiding it to cup his hard cock behind his zipper.
You smiled sweetly, grabbing his writs with your other hand and wrapped your mouth around his fingers, your tongue running over them. Without taking his fingers out of your mouth, he took his hand off yours on his crotch moving it to the back of your neck and he pushed you down. He only needed to do it gently and you followed his instructions sinking to your knees with his fingers still in your mouth and his hand on the back of your neck. Once you were on your knees, he pulled his fingers out of your mouth with a pop and you licked your lips,
âWant to see how filthy I can really be?â you purred.
You saw his eyes go black and a growl rumbled in his chest. He made quick work undoing his belt buckle and zipper, pushing down his pants and boxers, his hard thick cock almost hitting your face when it sprung from his boxers. Your eyes blew open and heat swept through you again at the size of him. His thumb and pointer finger grabbed your chin, tipping your head back, your eyes focused on his again,
âOpen wide, my sweetâ
Your mouth opened and he rested the tip of his cock to your bottom lip. You stuck your tongue out slightly licking his tip and he let out an almost silent grunt biting his bottom lip. You gave him a cheeky wink, leaning forward and taking him fully into your mouth. You relaxed your throat and took him as deep as you could sinking right down to his base, his black curly hair tickling your nose. You ran your mouth back up to his tip hollowing your cheeks, licking around it like a melting popsicle and sinking back down on him again.
Both your hands rested on his thighs, feeling his muscles tensing when you licked over his tip, his precum coating your tongue. Both of his hands threaded into your hair resting at the back of your head, his fingertips pressing into your skull. You had to squeeze your legs together tight for some relief from how the sounds you were pulling from him turned you on. One of your hands left his thigh to cup his balls, squeezing them gently and your other ran around to his right ass cheek, cupping his firm flesh massaging it lightly,
âSuch a dirty girl, taking my cock so wellâ he grunted.
You felt his hands ball into fists in your hair holding your head still as he started to roll his hips into your mouth fast and deep, his cock hitting the back of your throat, tears running down your cheeks and saliva dripping out of the corners of your mouth. You pushed him into you by his behind and you played with his balls in your hand. He let out a loud groan and a string of swear words, his hot salty cum spilt into your mouth and trickled down your throat. You sucked him clean, feeling him softening on your tongue before he pulled out, he leaning down wiping one corner of your mouth dry with his thumb. Â Â
You hadnât gotten his name and hadnât gotten his number, his phone ringing just as he zipped himself away and he just walked out of the room without a word, so you went about your business back outside talking and being social. Happy Birthday had been sung and the cake had been cut. You were talking to a mutual friend, when you heard your name, turning around to see Eliana walking towards you with the handsome stranger that was knuckles deep in you not to long ago,
âY/Nâ she walked up to you, linking her arm in yours âI want you to meet my dad, Richardo Diaz. Dad, this is my boss and best friend Y/N Y/L/Nâ
Your mouth dropped open and your heart stopped as he coolly reached his hand out to you like his cock wasnât just in your mouth less than 30 minutes ago. You reached out taking his hand in yours shaking it and giving him a small tight smile and trying to hide your bright red cheeks,
âPlease, young ladyâ he looked at Eliana with his eye brows raised âMy name is Racehorse, only my mother calls me Richardo. Nice to meet you, Y/Nâ Â
Tags: @beccabarbaâ @alwaysachorusgirlâ @lovebishoplosamiguelgalindoâ @ben-c-group-therapyâ @jemmakatesâ
#ricardo diaz#ricardo racehorse diaz#racehorse diaz#racehorse diaz x reader#racehorse diaz x female reader#the good fight#the good fight fanfic#the good fight fic#the good fight smut#the good fight fanfics
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past lives | 10
a/n: final part!! AHHHHHHHÂ stay tuned for the epilogue!!! And thank you guys so much for coming on this journey with me. I really appreciate it and YOU! <3
You awoke to the smell of cement and dry wall. It smelled so bad you could feel it in your throat. Your eyes cleared up to the spectacle in front of you. It was Ra's and Nyssa with their arms crossed.
âIs this some sick parent teacher conference?â you joked.
âNo games. You failed to deliver the package.â he said.
âYou mean your grandson? The one who left of his own volition?â
âNonsense he is the heir to everything I have. He canât leave.â
You looked over more to your former friend, âNice to see you too Nyssa.â
âWhy didnât you stick to the plan?â she asked.
You look at Raâs and heâs already staring you down. You donât think heâs told her. It would have been best not to. Withholding information is his favorite skill anyways.
Youâre about to say something when Raâs comes over and backhands you. It makes you curl in the chair theyâve put you in. You werenât surprised, that didnât make it any less worse however.Â
He really doesnât want her to know.
âAll you had to do was seek him out. You couldnât even do it.âÂ
His smack- you hate to say it- brought up a thought to the front of your mind.Â
âWhen did you know about my father?â you asked.
Itâs in words that Nyssa isnât able to pick up on. You know. He knows. Itâs clear he doesnât want her to know. Another hint at telling her might earn you worse than a slap.
âAfter you came out of the pit. I looked into your identity some more and did some research.â he said.
âTell me,â you move your arms bound to the back of the chair, âDid you spawn Damian afterwards because of me?â
âNo, youâre not the reason. I had already been watching him for some time. You were just a happy coincidence.â he answered.
Ra's folds his hands behind his back and moves around Nyssa, and then around you. In a circle. The predator and the prey. What was Nyssa this time around?
âYou never reached out.â you said directly to her.
âYou left.â she shot back.
âHe wanted me gone.â you nodded to her father.
âIt was a test you imbecile!â she shouted.
It made you flinch. You realized that maybe Nyssa wasnât going to let bygones be bygones. And from her stand point she didnât have to. You hurt her.Â
Raâs circles around you once more. His eyes never left Nyssa though. It gave you a sickening feeling. How everyone was his pawns. Specifically Talia and Nyssa. The women in that family needed serious counseling after being brought up by a man like that.
âIf it was a test then why did he let me live? The moment I stepped out the door I should have been dead!â you shouted back.
She stayed silent. So you continued.
âHeâs lying to you Nyssa.â you said.
âSheâs right I lied to you. It wasnât part of some test.â
Nyssa turned to her father in shock. You were sat wondering why he would give himself up so easily. What did he have to play here?
Whatever it was could wait. He was far enough now to not strike you again. You needed to let her know.
âHe wanted me as a back up for Damian. My half-brother.â you said.
Nyssa turned back to you and when she did Ra's smacked her too. You winced for her, his hand print would probably be on your face in a few minutes. Just like old times.
He turned to you.
âYou ruined my plan to bring my grandson back. Now he knows Iâm here.â he said.
âHe ran away for good reason. Iâm glad he did. I would've never handed him over to you anyways.â you spoke.
âYou didnât have to hand him to me, you were just going to serve him to me on a platter.â
âNo. Because I know you were tracking me through my phone, both of them. You think I didnât notice how heavy that flash drive is? I know a cloning device when I hold one. And the burner phone? That was cheap work.âÂ
He began to laugh. It made you sit further back in your seat. Him laughing was never a good sign. And it never sounded right. All those years in the pit mustâve done something to his laugh, along with the rest of his mind.
Ra's al Ghul came face to face with you. He wasnât a pleasant man to look at. His breath even more telling on how close to death he is. But you looked him in the eye anyways.
âAnd thatâs why youâre here. The bargaining chip. Heâll come for you, because just as you care for him he cares for you.â
He lets up and in the background you saw Nyssa shift her arm really quickly. You donât know what it was for.Â
-
The family had gotten a hit on your location. It had been four hours since you were taken. Everyone decided to suit up and hit the streets for the first two hours. Redhood and Red Robin took downtown, Nightwing enlisted the help of GCPD to search Midtown and Batman and Robin took Uptown. With the league they couldnât be too careful.
In the middle of searching is when they got a comms message from Alfred. Your phone had pinged off a tower in Crime Alley. As Bruce and Damian were closest they began to head over to that neighborhood. The rest of the boys and some footmen from the GCPD were on their way over.
Batman and Robin got there and Alfred was able to narrow down the closest tower that your phone pinged off of.Â
In the bat mobile Damian remained quiet. He had kept mum about the real reason you were there with him when Gotham Academy had caught on fire. Bruce could tell it was something he wanted to speak about alone.
âSo what's the real reason?âÂ
Damian let out a sigh, âThis isnât our first meeting. Weâve had a relationship since I was born. Back on the island.â
âWith the league?â
âYes. It was sad when we could no longer see each other, grandfather had offered an out. I never thought we would see each other again.â
Bruce stayed quiet for a moment. All that could be heard was the engine of the batmobile.Â
âDid you know you were related?â
âI found that out the same day as Gotham Academy. We had a conversation later that night.â
âYou snuck out?âÂ
âI had to father. It was for good reason. We were able to put the pieces together. I said I would handle grandfather.âÂ
âDamian.â
âThis has gone on for too long. Itâs my fault. If something happens-â
âWeâll make it.â
Then he steps more on the gas.
-Â
Your head lulled forward after the sixth blow he dealt you. It wasnât like you earned it. He wanted to prove a point to Nyssa. That you were expendable to him. That in the grand scheme of things you didnât matter.
âAll that training, wasted! You canât even get out of the restraints.âÂ
You swallowed the blood that was in your mouth, âWhat makes you think heâll come for me?â
âWeâre going to send a public ransom across all of Gotham. I figure a hundred thousand as the bounty will circulate enough to get to him. And then heâll come and find you.â
âHeâs just a child.â
âNo heâs more than a child. Heâs my grandson, the son of Bruce Wayne and Talia al Ghul.â
âAnd what does she think about all this?âÂ
âEnough!â he shouted.
You were punched again.Â
âIâll get someone to send the ransom around.â Nyssaâs voice said.
You lifted your head up to look at her but her back was already turned to you. This however did earn you another punch, to the gut this time, by Raâs. You let out a disgusting sound at the impact.
âInstead of a coincidence youâve become an inconvenience. This time I wonât put you in the pit.âÂ
âWhy would you ever put me in there in the first place, huh? I was a no one! You  didnât know me or my mother. You just snatched my body and made me one of your foot soldiers.â you screamed through the incoming headache.
He did that mechanical laugh again and you wanted to spit at him. You never thought he was a good man. All the things he did. The things he told you to do. You canât absolve all of the blame but he was an undeniable reason why you did those things.
Drop offs turned into stake outs. Stake outs into undercover. Undercover into sedation. With him the lines were blurred, because there was supposed to be nothing you wouldnât do for him. But you chose Damian. Or, you chose Damianâs new life over his old one. And he didn't like that one bit.
The door bused open and in came Batman. You didn't think you'd live to see him up close. Itâs true that while in Gotham you would probably see him once or twice. But this?
You watched as Ra's attacked him on sight. It was like the two were in sync. Batman hit, Raâs dodged. A kick here, a swerve there. They seemed to be equals. You know you could never pull that off. Raâs would have you flat out in under a minute.
When Batman should have swerved he didnât. And Raâs got the best of him with a punch. This gave way to a kick to the side and a head pull into the ground. You struggled to get out of your restraints. It wasnât looking good for either of you.
Raâs picked him up, and you watched in horror as he hurled him toward you. Batman collided with you so hard that he broke the chair you were in. It sent you back into one of the many crates in the room.
Batman groaned as you lifted him off of you. You slid over to the side on the floor. He was definitely not light. He knocked the only wind out of you that remained after Raâs punishment.
No more chair meant your hands were free.
You pulled your arms around to the front. You could try to take him like this. Even though you could hear him laughing in the foreground.Â
âHere.âÂ
You looked over at Batman. He was holding out one of his knives, shaped like a bat. You took it without passing a comment on it. You passed the blade over the restraints and made quick work of them.
On your feet, the laughter stops. You inched closer and closer to him.
âI didnât snatch your body, your mother handed you over when she found out you were murdered. She asked me for this!â he said.
You stopped.Â
âWhat are you talking about?âÂ
âWhen you died she went to a very dark place. With how dark she got it didnât take long for her to find one of my associates and get in contact with me. She begged for you to be brought back. Her child!â
You ran into the attack. The words that came from his mouth just made you see red. He threw his fists but you ducked and weaved. After weaving you landed multiple blows on him. You grabbed him by the shoulders and brought your knee into him.Â
He went down a bit, only for a few seconds, then got his bearings back. Raâs spit out the blood from his mouth.
âYouâll leave here with no parents. And itâll be at my behest.âÂ
In through the door comes Robin. A robin with a face too familiar to hide behind a mask.Â
âGrandfather!â the little robin shouted.
That makes you look behind you. At Batman. Bruce Wayne.
Your father was Batman. Your father.
#dc x reader#batman x reader#damian wayne x reader#Bruce Wayne x reader#Ra's al Ghul x reader#robin x reader#Tim Drake x reader#Nightwing x reader#Dick Grayson x reader#Jason Todd x reader#PAST LIVES
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Youâre a spoiled brat
I feel like I donât really know how to respond to this. Iâm really sorry for what I have done to upset you though. I know I donât have it as hard as a lot of other people and it might seem like Iâm extremely spoiled but I guess there is a lot behind the scenes that makes it look that way.
I guess part of the reason Iâm able to buy what I do is because I still live with my parents. Not having to pay for all my own rent and utilities really leaves extra money you know. I pay for my share of rent but itâs not the same as living alone. Iâm lucky that I have parents that havenât kicked me out and let me live with them at 22, but also there is a lot of stress and mental exhaustion that comes from living in this house. I also donât have a car , as I catch public transport everywhere. So I donât have to worry about petrol prices or insurance.
I think my families financial situation is probably pretty different to some peoples. In high school I had a part time job and there were many times where my money would go towards bills or rent or cars to help the family. My mother would often take it out without telling me either so I wasnât always sure how much I had in there. But I was happy to help. Whatever she didnât use I would use to buy comics or manga or books. But my mum also has MS and when I was around 18 or 19 I canât remember, she officially medically retired, which means she got access to all her super. And around that time (as in a couple of years after) my great grandmother and my grandmother passed away. So we got some money from them. That money is pretty much where I got most of my older furniture from. It also helped us when my dad was unemployed for a while.
Iâm very, very grateful to be on the DSP (disability support payment) so I can afford all my appointments and rent and phone and transportation etc. Iâm so grateful I live in a country that takes my debilitating mental health seriously enough to provide resources to help me get better so I can one day work like I want to. Iâm grateful that because of this I also get cheaper medicine and transportation. All these things help. And it often leaves money left over. I try to save when I can or help out with other people or donate to places with my left over money. You know give it back to other people that could use it. But I also buy things for myself. I used to be really bad with spending and it was very unhealthy. I would use it yo self harm. I would use it to stop myself from self harming. I would use it to fill this void in my chest. I would use it to keep me from killing myself because the only thing I could find in life to look forward to and wake up for was that 3 seconds of getting a package. But Iâve worked really hard to be better at that and I set myself budgets so I donât do it as much. Because I regret a lot of what I did with that money and I feel terribly for it.
But also I donât really have a lot going for me in life. I donât have a job or a purpose and I feel pretty useless. But being able to buy books or photos or what have you of LGBT things to share on here so everyone can see it gives me a little bit of purpose. I like being able to see how happy it makes people to find books they like or images of people they see themselves in. It feels like itâs all I can really do at the moment. So o get those things for all the lovely people who have followed me on here. It feels like itâs the best I can do right now , you know?
But also with being on the DSP I canât save up TOO much , otherwise theyâll cut off my payments. And I need them now for appointments and stuff. So thatâs also why I buy things. But I try hard to buy second hand or from small business when I can so the money goes back into the economy.
But yeah. Iâm sorry , I really am. I never intended to hurt or upset anyone on here. Iâll try better. And I hope you have a lovely day đ
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THINGS NEVER GO AS PLANNED (Part V/VII)
"the perfect excuse"
Summary: After Fred's death, George and Y/n lean on each other to carry on. This wasn't the most brilliant idea, though; George was pretty much in love with the girl, and Y/nâ well, she had been dating Fred prior to the Battle of Hogwarts.
Pairing: George Weasley x Reader
Genre: angst mostly
Tags:
Suggested by: @crispykittywitch
Things never go as planned: @sarcasticallywitty15 @beautyschoo1dropout @s1ut4georgeweasley @sunshineandshadowss @missmulti @weasleywh0r3s @andreaareynoso @georgeweasley19 @dianarte
Permanent taglist: @elia-the-bibliophile @randomparanoid @karlthecat15722 @thebutchersdaughtersblog @amourtentiaa
Warnings: language, drinking, makeout getting spicy
A/N: idk what happened here, this was not planned I'm just horny ig??? Anyway have this part that was definitely not meant to unfold like this but hey, I'm not mad, so enjoy <3
Prologue: the aftermath
Part I: sleepless nights
Part II: candy floss
Part III: shock therapy
Part IV: wrong name
Part VI: the downfall
Part VII: apart
Epilogue: I still love you
Rogue-durin-16 masterlist
I checked myself in the mirror one last time before heading to the kitchen. There was no actual need of dressing up nicely, since we both would be spending New Year's Eve at the flat, but since Ginny, Ron, Harry and Hermione were coming, we decided to clean up for our guests.
"Hmm, smells good." I leaned on the doorframe, observing George finishing cooking.
"These past five months' messes paid off." He joked, grabbing a kitchen rag to clean his hands. "Can you keep an eye on it while I go get read..." He trailed off automatically when his gaze landed on me. "Woahâ okay." He cleared his throat, eyes slightly widened at my outfit, and I couldn't help but enjoy a bit too much his attention. "You look really goodâ is that the new blouse?"
"Yup." I replied, a coy smile dancing on my lips as I stepped to him and picked the kitchen rag myself. "C'mon, go clean up nice for our guests."
It only took him a couple of minutes, since he might have had his suit ready.
"Mind lending a hand with the tie, love?" He requested, stepping into the kitchen with his attention on the shirt's cuffs which he was buttoning up.
Damn, he looked so good; it wasn't even fair.
"Y/n?" He chuckled, finally looking up.
"Uhâ yeah! Sure." I threw the rag over the counter and led my hands to the tie, taking my time to make the knot; maybe I wanted an excuse to have my hands on him.
We stayed in silence until I was finished; it wasn't an awkward silence, but it wasn't comfortable eitherâ it was, in fact, stifling.
"There you go." I more like whispered instead of talking, sliding my hands down his chest briefly. His eyebrows were knitted, trying to decipher my demeanor; his hands caught one of mines before they fell limply on my sides, and for a second, I thought he was about to do something really stupid âsomething I had wanted to do for the last three monthsâ, but then the bell rang and we stepped away from each other, going to receive Ron and Hermione as if that moment hadn't happened at all.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
GINNY'S P. O. V.
I took a sip of my brandy as we laughed at Ron's joke, my eyes drifting to Hermione and then to Y/n's lap, where Teddy rested, giggling and blabbering nonsense at George's hand movements and funny faces.
George had confided me quite ashamed that he fancied Y/n about two years ago, but I knew the looks he gave her were of something more than a little crush, if you may.
Had I not known Y/n, I would be worried she was projecting Fred onto the younger twin, but the girl knew better than that, so when we got to experience how their domestic life unfolded during New Year's Eve, I felt nothing but happiness at the way Y/n laughed at my brother's jokes, or how she stared at him in pure adoration as he played with Tonks's and Lupin's baby.
"You're getting him waaay too exited, mate." Harry chuckled, extending his arms for Y/n to hand him the toddler. "He needs to go to sleep."
Teddy, who we had put to sleep in Y/n's room shortly after dinner, had woken up right before the New Year came to us, and, since he refused to go back to sleep, Y/n took on the task of entertaining him. George joined as soon as he witnessed Teddy's hair going rainbow-like at Y/n's actions.
"Actually, I think we all need to go to sleep." I said, leaving the glass on the table.
"Boo, you're supposed to be the youngest!" Y/n whined, earning a laughter from the rest.
"Ginny's right, though." Ron stood up and all of us followed his lead. "It's really late and I don't want mum to see us drunk when she wakes up."
"Not a good impression to make on your future mother-in-law, oi, Granger?" George's tease made Hermione's cheeks flush, murmuring an 'idiot' before giving him a hug. "Take care, all of you." He added after he and Y/n had hugged everyone goodbye.
The five of us exited the flat and apparated in the Burrow's yard in silence until Harry asked, "are they together now?"
"We don't know." I confessed with a grimace.
"Well, together or not, they're definitely fucking."
"Ronald!" Hermione exclaimed, slapping her boyfriend's arm.
"I just said what everyone else's thinking." He defended himself, and none of us could deny it.
READER'S P. O. V.
We began to pick up the dirty plates, glasses and cutlery in order to take them to the sink and leave them there to wash them tomorrow.
"Oi, look what I found." George wiggled a firewhiskey bottle at me from the living room.
Without thinking twice, I grabbed the half empty ice cream tub I had just left over the counter, a couple of clean glasses, and I made my way to George.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
"âand that was only in our... Third- no- fourth! year?" He finished the story, joining me in the giggling; I didn't doubt the story was funny, but I was sure it seemed ten times funnier because of the alcohol. "Wait- where were you back then?" He knitted his brows in confusion.
"A year below you." I laughed.
He snorted. "Below me," he took a look at his empty glass before reaching for the bottle with a laugh "hell, I wish."
I couldn't help but laugh too. "Sure you do." I wouldn't have laughed if I were sober, but then again I highly doubted he would have said that if he were sober. "Y'know- you can have me below you anytime you want, Georgie." I replied between lazy giggles, leaning on him so he would pour more firewhiskey into my glass too.
A loud snort left George, triggering one of my own. "Sure, darling." He loosened his tie and tossed it to the floor. "Why's it so hot in here?"
"Mmm... Must be 'cause of you." I threw my head back to stare at the ceiling. "Or... maybe's just the alcohol." I groaned at the feeling of my head spinning, and sat upright again to chunk the now full glass in one go. "I'm hot too."
"Oh darling... You can't even imagine how muchâ I mean... Every dayâ but tonight you look partic... particular...ly? Dashing." George was leaning back against the armchair's feet, his eyes closed, his cheeks flushed and an amused smile dancing on his lips. "Why must you be so bloody perfect?" I found myself staring a bit too much at the ginger. "There's still a conscious part of my brain that knows I shouldn't be saying this shit." An idle chuckle left his chest and one of his eyes peeked open. "I'm gonna blame the alcohol, aight?"
Right, the alcohol âThe perfect excuse.
I laid my glass on the floor and got up, stumbling towards him. "Oi, carefulâ you don't wanna trip and fall." He laughed, steadying me with his hands as I plopped down on my knees besides him. "We won't make it to St. Mungoâ" With one hand on his shoulder and one on his cheek, I went for it, cutting him mid-sentece in the process.
It was one hell of a sloppy kiss, and I was so concentrated on doing it right that I didn't even hear the moan I sent into his mouth.
What the hell are you doing?, My mind screamed.
I attempted to pull away, but I felt George's hands on my sides, clutching my clothes in his fists to tug me flush against him. I took the cue and did my best to climb onto his lap and straddle his legs without losing balance.
What we were doing felt terribly wrong, and, the morning after, we would regret this little slip so much, but in that exact moment I could only think that his lips tasted like fire whiskey, strawberry and chocolate, and that the quiet moans slipping through them between the kisses were loud enough to quiet down everything in my head.
I stopped to take a breath, resting my forehead against his; our eyes locked, pupils blown out.
Heavy pants left our lungs, as if we had just run a marathon. It felt like the kiss had made a bomb go off, one that we had unconsciously been building up those past months.
It took an instant of looking at each other to know we thought the same; we wouldn't get this opportunity ever again, so at that point, we might as well carry on and pray for it not to be too bad in the morning.
This time it was George who smashed his lips against mines, teeth clashing and tongues going in each other's mouths. The situation was escalating quick; a tad too quick, I daresay.
He cursed and mumbled something about too many clothes, proceeding to pull his shirt over his head with my help, given that he could only do so much with that amount of alcohol in his sistem.
I could do even less, though. It was proven when I first attempted to get rid of my blouse.
I struggled to unbutton it, an awkward, dizzy silence falling among us before his hands travelled to mines "Wait... Lemme..." He frowned, finding that simple task as frustratingly difficult as I did. "Bloody..." A browned off grunt left his swollen lips.
"Tear it." I mumbled, letting my hands roam over his chest.
"You sure?"
I hummed, somehow impatient. "We'll fix it tomorrow." I captured his lips once more.
We'd fix it tomorrow.
I felt his hands fisting my shirt by the cleavage before giving it a firm tug, making my gasp; I wasn't expecting all the buttons to come off in one go, given his drunken state.
I didn't even have time to discard the piece of clothing before his lips attacked my neck, shutting my brain off instantly due to the sensation.
"You want this?" He whispered in my ear, his hands going up from my thighs to my back until they reached the clasp of my bra.
Not trusting my voice, I nodded vigorously, making the world shake around me so hard that I had to shut my eyes.
I felt a feather kiss on my shoulder and his fingers unfastening the bra; he was doing his best to be smooth, which wasn't a lot, but I could tell he was trying hard.
"You're so sweet." I blurted out as his fingertips ghosted over my skin while he removed the top from my body.
He tried to reply something, but articulating kept getting harder and harder as we went deeper into it, so he gave up on words and so did I; at least until his fingers slid between my legs and started to tease me through the fabric of my remaining clothes.
"Bed." I whimpered, unconsciously rocking my hips against George's hand whilst my own travelled to his crotch, feeling his erection and consequently earning a moan from him.
"D'you think we'll make it?" He inquired, already retreating his hand briefly so we could stand up.
Soon enough we were stumbling to my room, hands all over each other, bumping against the furniture and walls due to not being able to stand upright.
When we fell on the bed and tossed the rest of our clothes to the floor, it began to dawn on me how bad this was going to be.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
GEORGE'S P. O. V.
My head was pounding violently in my skull; that's most likely the reason why I woke up. It took a moment for the blurry memories of the previous night to flash into my mind.
"You feel... so good..."
"Fuck- Georgeâ faster, please..."
"Y/nâ I'm-"
"No." I shoot up, not acknowledging that Y/n was still asleep by my side. "Fuck no. Nononono." I ignored the terrible headache caused by the hungover and, grabbing my clothes, I exited the room. "No fucking way." I kept mumbling to myself, stalking to my dorm to throw on some fresh clothes.
I sat on my bed, my hands running through my locks, bringing back the memories of Y/n's tugs on them in the process.
"What the fuck did I do." I almost choked on the sentence.
#harry potter fanfiction#george wealsey x reader#george wealsey imagine#george weasley#george weasley x reader#george weasley x y/n#george weasley x ravenclaw!reader#george weasley x hufflepuff!reader#george weasley x slytherin!reader#george weasley x you#george weasley x gryffindor!reader#george weasley x reader angst#george weasley smut#george weasley series#george x reader#george x reader fluff#george weasley fic#George x reader smut#George weasley lemon#george weasley fanfic#fred weasley x reader
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