#I made a bunch so strap yourselves in

[zootopiathingz]

Tis the season?

[chosos-mascara]

good girl

𝙩𝙤𝙟���� 𝙛𝙪𝙨𝙝𝙞𝙜𝙪𝙧𝙤 𝙭 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆 - after accompanying toji to the zen'in residence, he wants to thank you.

𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 - cunnilingus, toji calls reader a good girl, fingering, dom!toji, dilf!toji

minors + ageless dni 1.4k words

"Wanna get out of here?" The voice beside you asked, and for a moment, you felt your heart skip a beat. Swirling your legs in the pool, you bunched your dress in one hand, standing, wet feet leaving footprints on the concrete beneath them as you picked up your heels. Without the extra height, Toji had appeared much larger - not just taller, but broader, too. The rolled up sleeves of his white button down had exposed strong forearms, an outline of veins coursing under the skin, and as your gaze had drifted upwards, you ogled over the bulge beneath the thin cotton, humps of muscle displaying the discipline Toji had over his physique. 

He brought you through the side gate of the garden, a quick exit doused in secrecy as the pair of you had made way to his car, the sleek black vehicle within your sights bringing relief over you.  "I didn't think they were a bunch'a misogynists." Toji sighed, turning the key in the engine before pulling away, accelerating quickly to make it back to his apartment.  "It's fine." Your reply was quiet as you twiddled with the straps on the heels in your lap, watching the night pass by the windows. 

Toji had brought you to the Zen'in's, a classy meal hosted by none other than Naoya scheduled to introduce Toji back into the family, an attempt at recovering what they'd lost. Of course, that had referred to Megumi and his inheritance of the clan's technique, less so to Toji, and not at all to yourself. Not that you'd wanted to be a part of the deal anyway, but you'd wanted to offer moral support to your partner. The night had gone sour within an hour, and you'd been thankful the pair of you'd left Megumi with Gojo instead of bringing him, too. 

After an outburst from Naoya, you'd gone to sit in the garden, dipping your toes into the pool to have a moment of solace. There had been shouting shortly after, before the door had slid open and Toji had come to save you from the hell-hole the pair of you'd had to walk within. 

"Thanks for joining me, anyways." Toji spoke one you'd dragged yourselves through the door and into the apartment. He'd felt a pang of guilt for what you'd had to hear while within the Zen'in's presence, a bunch of old bastards with the newest scumbag appearing to surpass the others within the 'slimey rat' department. "You're too good to me." Voice barely a whisper, he brought two hands to your face, a light kiss planted to your forehead. 

"I am." You giggled, smiling. Looking up to his face, you took a moment to admire his features, the thin green eyes, scar over his lip. At times like this, you'd felt as if in the presence of a God rather than a man, his natural beauty striking.  "Wanna show you how amazin' you are," Toji placed a kiss over you again, fingers tightening over your cheeks when his lips met your skin. After a few pecks, he pulled back, watching as you shied away under his hands, warmth bestowed into them as you'd been flushed with embarrassment. "-such a good girl." 

Toji knew his praise is what you'd valued most, his approval, his opinion. You'd put him on a pedestal since you'd started dating, something Toji couldn't understand but had appreciated, every second with you, he'd felt safe. He'd felt loved. All Toji had wanted to do was show you how much you'd meant to him too; usually through acts of service.  His lips trailed to your jawbone, flowing to your neck and taking the thicker skin between his teeth, sure to leave marks to be seen in the morning. With your head tiled back, you accepted his display of worship, goosebumps scattering across your arms as his fingers dragged over the silk dress, pulling at the hem and rolling the sleeves from your shoulders. 

With the fabric falling to pool at your feet, Toji knelt before you. Still in the hall beside the front door, you'd leant against the wall as he'd taken one of your legs, knee bending over his shoulder as he planted gentle kisses on your inner thigh, your hands weaving into his hair. The black locks wrapped around your fingers, and when tugging on the roots, he'd exhaled a breath to fan over your thigh, sending shivers over your spine. Toji moved the cotton of your panties to the side, a broad finger running across your slit, the tip teasing into your hole, only shallowly sitting before he'd chuckled, corner of his mouth curving.  "So wet f'r me." The sentence had been short lived, his lips suddenly attaching to the sopping cunt before him to lap up the fluids he'd coaxed from you with his kisses. 

His name tumbled from your mouth as he'd swirled over your clit, a gentle groan when he'd tasted your arousal, finger finally slipping into you to curl in and out in synchrony with his tongue's movements. Before long, the obscene sounds of his finger plunging deep into your cunt, mixing with wetness and saliva had filled the walls you'd resided within, heavy breaths and contorted expression as your head hit the wall behind you. If Toji hadn't steadied you with his free hand, the brick supporting your weight with your leg atop his shoulder, you'd have fallen, knees week. 

Your heavy lids opened to glance at his face between your thighs, tousled black hair falling over his head, eyes fixed on your gaze, mouth wide and tongue flickering over you. The eye contact had made you uneasy for a few moments, but when his mouth had curved upward into a smirk while still open and lapping at your juices, you'd pushed aside the embarrassment. Below his face, you could see the movement of his wrist as his fingers had bullied in and out of you, clenching around him when laying eyes on the sight before you. 

He pulled back, face thick with sheen, smile wide. The digits remained at the pace they'd worked at previously, though he'd stretched a thumb upward to graze over our clit, making up for the lack of contact from his tongue. Toji pressed a few open mouth kisses on your thigh, head tilted to the side and mouth still pressed to your skin as he spoke aloud once more.  "Do you know how much you mean t' me?" His voice was rough, doused in raggedness as his chest had risen and fallen at a slightly increased pace - he'd been putting in work for your pleasure.  "I feel c-close Toj'." You'd whined, hips bucking as you'd tugged at his locks once more, desperately trying to get his lips back over your clit.  "I'll let you cum baby, jus' do one thing f'r me." Toothy grin, he'd spoken, another nip at the fat of your leg. A whine fell from you, profuse nodding while you'd fought to keep your eyes open and locked to his.  "Tell me you're a good girl. Let me hear you say it." His voice, hoarse and raspy, accompanied by a curl of his fingers, brushing against your g-spot, you hiccuped, gritting teeth before completing his request.  "I-I'm a good girl. Your good girl." Once the phrase had been spoken, his tongue was back on your clit, and you slackened up, finally allowing yourself to release the build up within your body. 

Toji allowed you to ride through your orgasm, stuttered humps over his face accompanied by sweet whines; music to his ears. He'd drank every bit of juice you'd offered him, relishing the taste even after your high had fizzled out, sucking at your folds. One thing about Toji, is that he'd never let a drop of you go to waste, often humming at the sensation of being between your legs, tongue plush to pussy. 

[agaypanic]

Malcolm in the Middle Simp Headcanons

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***

Malcolm

Probably met you in the Krelboyne class

Very impressed by your brains

Always chooses you as a study buddy or project partner

Holds back complaints about life and shit just to hear you talk

This is very difficult for him to do bc the dude LOVES to complain

Holds your books/backpack for you and walks you to all your classes

Mainly because you have the same classes, but he insists he’d do it even if you didn’t

Learns everything about you and commits it to memory (which isn’t hard because of his memory)

You’re the best thing in his sucky life

Stevie had half a mind to roll away from his best friend as he went on and on about Herkabe. Something about him trying to get Malcolm to sabotage his perfect GPA so Herkabe could keep some academic record. Usually, Stevie would care very much about someone’s academic standing. But right now, he was focused on trying not to kill himself or Malcolm.

“I mean, it’s absolutely ridiculous! He’s using Reese to get me to tank a grade. Reese! It’d work better if it was-”

“Hey, guys!” You bounded towards the two, and Malcolm’s demeanor changed entirely. Stevie was grateful for your arrival because, for some reason, Malcolm lessened the bitching and moaning by a lot.

“Hey, Y/n.” The boys greeted back.

“So, what were you guys talking about?”

“Well-” Stevie was about to snitch on your boyfriend but was cut off by him.

“Oh, it was nothing.”

“Are you sure? You looked pretty passionate about it.” Malcolm assured you it was nothing, but Stevie gave you a look saying he’d tell you about it later. “Okay, then. Wanna go to class?”

“Sure!” Malcolm responded excitedly, grabbing his backpack off the lunch table you were hanging around. You said goodbye to Stevie and made your way to first period. “Want me to take your bag?” He asked but was already slipping the strap off your shoulder.

Reese

COOKS FOR YOU

ALL THE TIME

I’m convinced it’s his love language

From snacks to tide you over until lunch to full-course meals during the rare occasion that you two have the house to yourselves

Will beat the shit out of anyone who messes with you

If it’s a girl, he’ll probably get Cynthia to do it

Your happiness is his biggest priority; he can’t have some idiot messing with that

“Reese, this is delicious.” You moaned as you ate a baggie of your favorite snack that he had cooked up for you. He knew how hungry you’d get from skipping breakfast, so he packed you a little snack bag every day so you wouldn’t be miserable until lunch. He was somewhat surprised that the teacher hadn’t made him stop bringing food to class, but it might’ve had something to do with the fact that whenever you were happy, he was happy. And a teacher would rather have a happy Reese than an angry Reese.

“I think I might make that my go-to snack for you; you seem to like it the most.” You smiled at the comment, giddy that he paid attention enough to know which of his foods were your favorite.

“Well, I like all your food.”

The last bunch of kids filed in, and the last one seemed miserable. Upon closer inspection, you noticed that it was a kid in your class that messed with you frequently. You then noticed that he was littered with cuts and bruises. Immediately, you had an inkling of how this happened.

“Reese, did you do that?” He looked up at the kid, smirking at his handiwork.

“Gotta keep my girl happy.”

Francis

Thinks it’s love at first sight

Francis is such a delusional romantic tbh

If you meet him while he’s in military school, he’s always writing you poems and letters 

Half of his calls home are for you because he just wants to know how you’re doing

If you work at the ranch with him, he’ll pick up the work on your chores if you have something to do

Even if you don’t need any help, he’ll accompany you just because he loves spending time with you

You know those tiktoks that are like “when you and your friend work together, so everything’s a two-person job now”?

That’s him with EVERYTHING

Even if you’ve been together for years, he still tries to impress you with extravagant presents or ideas

You tell him you don’t need/want much, just him, but he thinks you deserve the very best

“Francis, I can do it myself.” You jokingly rolled your eyes at your boyfriend, who set out plates and cutlery for the breakfast buffet. “It’s the easiest job of my day.”

“I just wanna make it easier, baby.” Francis kissed you before straightening the table clothes in the dining hall and on the patio.

“Well, thank you.” You smiled before moving to restock the napkin dispenser. Francis raced to your side, opening the dispenser for you. “Thanks again.”

“No problem. So, I was looking at our schedules, and I noticed we should be done with work at the same time.”

“Oh, yeah?” He nodded, closing the dispenser and positioning it right on the table. “What do you have planned?”

“Not much.” He shrugged nonchalantly, but if you knew your boyfriend well, you knew at least three different activities were reserved for you two now. “Just a couple’s horse ride, massage, and then I asked Otto to make sure that one of the jacuzzis would be off limits. Just for us.”

“Oh, that sounds so nice, honey.” He cupped your cheeks, kissing you deeply, and you were thankful that the guests were either still asleep or doing something else.

“Anything for my favorite girl.”

[wexhappyxfew]

when all else fails

(a/n): here it is! a Silver Bullets ensemble piece featuring all of the lovely ladies that man the B-17 Silver Bullets that is mentioned so very often. let's just say....adjusting to a new pilot after losing one that did so much in terms of care - is hard. but having each other, makes it a bit easier. (featuring also: frank, the orange cat that meatball chases when warranted).

"How many times has he mentioned that the God-forsaken cat loves him?" muttered Paulina as she came and settled herself into the chair besides Carrie, shaking her head and lacing her fingers together like an elaborate pie crust.

"Dougie'll probably keep saying it," Carrie offered and then nodded at Marianne, who was sat in her own chair, working her way through another beer, "Frank doing okay?" Marianne shrugged and glanced at the orange cat, curled up at her feet, licking at his paw, eyes half-opened as he lounged on the wooden ground of the flying club.

"Looks like he's as fine as he'll ever be," Marianne said, "Dougie snuck him a thing of cheese earlier, so….let's just say, he's content." Carrie snickered as Paulina glanced down at the little ball of orange.

"Remind me how you're going to get him home again? Strapping him up in Silver Bullets, his own mask to fit his whiskers, a parachute made out of napkins?" Paulina offered and Marianne chuckled.

"I'll just ask Benny, he got Meatball over here, I'll be damned if I can strangle Frank into a harness, but it'll happen," Marianne said, "plus, he's a big sky enthusiastic." Carrie raised a brow. Paulina blinked.

"Come again?" murmured Carrie.

"He climbs up the trees, ya know? Entertains the kids. Jumps outta them, too. Crazy son-of-a-gun. There's a reason he's got nine lives, well…probably five now." Marianne said with a sigh, like an exasperated mother, "I blame Meatball."

"Why are we blaming Meatball?" a new voice said, entering the picture, the bright-eyed silhouette of Margie Harlowe coming up to them, Kennedy Farley in tow - like sunshine and gray skies clashing together in the middle of summer, but somehow making it work.

"He chases Frank around," muttered Marianne, "therefore, Frank has it out for him. Don't think Benny would agree but." Kennedy glanced downwards.

"A real wild-eyed killer there, Mar." Kennedy murmured and Marianne grumbled.

"He's just a softie on the outside that's all," Marianne said and Carrie chuckled.

"I can promise you, if I wave a thing of cheese in front of him, he's done for, there's no fighting with Meatball," Carrie said, patting Marianne on the shoulder and she all but sighed.

"It's alright, Frank, I'd be the same way," Paulina called down to Frank - who sat wildly unbothered, "swear to ya, you could wake me from a dead-sleep."

"Any of you meet the new pilot?" Margie asked, sweeping her eyes through the current group of four staring her in the face, "Alright, what's with the blank looks?"

"Don't think we're the ones you should be asking," Carrie said quietly, "you think Francis is gonna lose it? We know what happened when Harding tried with the other pilot…..Francis couldn't stand her."

"That's because that Captain Atchinson was nothing but a stuck up twit with a stick up her ass," Kennedy offered, "told me three times about how to load my goddamn .50 cal - last time I ever went up with her telling me what to do. I know how to load a gun, sweetheart."

"Bunch of bullshit, too," Paulina said, "you know she told me I had to at least eat proper in front of the guys. Does she not realize most of these guys saw me on my death bed when we arrived in Greenland? Puking my guts up as I pathetically begged for Major Cleven to take me to the grave. That was the least of my worries-"

"Well, our new pilot is not Captain Atchinson - she's actually really sweet, level-headed, can hold her own." Margie said butting in, "You all oughta introduce yourselves, stop hiding."

"Gotta name?" Marianne asked, a bit more hopeful than the others.

"Annie Bradshaw." Margie said, a hint of a smile on her lips, "She was in Fort Des Moines, but she's been a pilot for a bit. I got Benny to spill about her to me a bit. Supposedly she was going to fly AT-6s before coming here, so I guess we can consider ourselves lucky." Someone coughed.

"We'd be lucky if Birdie was still here." Carrie murmured quietly and a collective silence came over the group.

"Alright, what's with the sour faces?" Bessie, beloved navigator of Silver Bullets, said coming with a fresh drink - beer in the bottle - and Vivian and Judy in tow, the three new sets of eyes wandering about the current display of grief that seemed to wash in like waves.

"Don't tell me," Vivian said, arm linked through Judy's, eyes narrowed, "Major Egan made another one of his bad jokes and Pauli ain't having it."

"It ain't that, Viv, but feels close enough to be just like it," Paulina mumbled from her seat and shrugged, before leaning her head on her hand, "meet the new pilot?" The group glanced towards the trio and found somewhat blank looks on all their faces as well.

"Saw her." Judy offered, a bit more enthusiastically than the others, "She's a pretty thing. Didn't say anything though. It was from afar; I was trying to keep Dougie company, poor guy got turned down. I offered him an emotionally-filled pat on the shoulder."

"You really are the sweetest out of us all," Margie said with a smile towards Judy - who grinned like she always did - one that still looked youthful and full of a life now past.

"Was he trying for Helen again?" Carrie asked, her voice a bit more stiff than it had been previously and Bessie shrugged.

"A pretty poor attempt, I'll give him that," Bessie offered, in that comforting voice of hers that never seemed to let anyone down even in the worst of times.

"That or he's going on about the damn cat." Paulina groaned, receiving a shove from Marianne, "Sorry, sorry-" she glanced down at Frank, "sorry Frank, we love ya, I promise."

"So," Bessie started, glancing around the group, "anyone else willing to make the first move or should I bite the bullet. Again, might I add."

"I'll come with you," Judy offered, "she seems real sweet, I tell ya." Bessie smiled and glanced towards the group. Silence.

"Listen, listen, I'll come," Kennedy offered, "nothing a little New England charm can't do."

"New England charm?" Paulina crooned.

"Very experimentalist of you." Carrie said with a smirk and Kennedy rolled her eyes.

"I don't see anyone else jumping to their feet," Kennedy said, placing her hands on her hips with a raised brow, "imagine that was you! Comin' in here and your first introduction is Major Egan - Jesus Christ he probably scared her off-"

"I don't have to imagine," Paulina said with a sour look on her face, "if Birdie were here, we wouldn't be having to start this all over again."

"Yeah, well, Birdie ain't here, Pauli." Kennedy said. It was tough love. A tough realization that was a hard pill to swallow and something no one wanted to have to face.

None of them had really been flying since - Francis had done a practice run with Benny, but had come puking out of the plane and that had been that. Sometimes on walks around base, there was a presence about Silver Bullets that was almost sickening. It was like trying to face a fear none of them wanted to actually have to face. Getting in Silver Bullets without Birdie there. Because how much could you trust the next person to look out for the group and do much, if not the same or more?

"Well, what a surprise," Francis Montez said, swaggering over, a tired look on her face, an even more exasperated smile growing on her lips, "go on, what's happened now. Who are we bettin' on now?"

"No one, Lieutenant, except maybe the new pilot," Judy offered with a shake of her head, "you meet her yet?" Francis' face fell flat and she glanced around the group and shrugged.

"Ran into her, was on the move, didn't have much to say yet," Francis said, her words awkward and spaced uncomfortably. A few of the women exchanged side-eye glances or random coughs or sniffs.

Everyone knew Francis was struggling the most with it all - losing Birdie like they did. Just like that. Having her stuff back at the base, having to send it home to her folks, having to write out the letters and mail it out. Having to even think or say anything regarding it all. No one wanted to express any emotion towards a new pilot, or try to replace Birdie in anyway - it's why this whole new pilot shindig hurt just a little more than they all thought. They knew Birdie would never be replaced, but sometimes it felt like it was replacing her. Francis had been the one to see it and live it. She felt it the most it seemed - and showed it.

"You doing okay, Lieutenant?" Marianne asked quietly, a few worried glances going towards Silver Bullets' copilot - the drawn in expression on her face that fought with whatever inner emotions she was feeling more and more, the dark circles under her eyes, her gaunt cheeks. Francis Montez seemed to take on the weight of the world and let it stay on her shoulders for as long as she could handle; she hadn't fallen down yet.

"Fine," Francis said and then settled onto the open chair beside Carrie, "so, who's gonna make the first move? Or well, let me rephrase, who should be the one to make the first move?"

"I vote Margie." Paulina said, with a raised hand as she sipped her beer, "Margie or Vivian, someone who walks around like it's always sunny outside or something, ya know?"

"Flattering, Pauli, truly," Margie said, and Vivian offered a graceful smile with a nod.

"I appreciate the sentiment, Pauli, you really do butter me up," Vivian said, "but I think this is a Margie Harlowe situation at its finest." Margie grinned and crossed her arms and glanced around.

"You guys shouldn't have."

"Take the compliment, Margie," murmured Carrie. Margie smirked.

"She here?" Margie asked out loud.

"Supposedly Brady invited her."

"She blonde?"

"Blonde, more dirty-blonde, but nice dirty-blonde, shorter-side."

"That her?"

Everyone followed Carrie's finger and line of sight and found the new pilot, Lieutenant Annie Bradshaw, moving towards the bar, leaning up against it smoothly and ordering a drink and then looking around, her movements fluid, calculated and purposeful, her presence not entirely overwhelming and the look on her face a mix - calm, cool, collected about herself. Someone you probably didn't want to mess with unless you had it coming.

"Yep, that's her," Judy said, "Margie you should go for it." Margie turned to the group, took a gracious bow, cracked her knuckles like some professional sports star and then turned away.

"Watch and learn, ladies," Margie said and then plowed forward.

"There she goes," Kennedy said with a chuckle, "our Margie, whodda thought huh?"

"Whodda thought what?"

"Volunteering herself like that," Kennedy offered, "going into the line of fire. She's better than me."

"What the hell do you mean by that?" Francis said, "Whatcha trying to say?" Kennedy glanced over her shoulder just as Margie stuck out her hand to shake and then glanced back at the group of women and Frank, who now was cuddled in Judy's arms.

"Harding's been trying to get a pilot in for days after Atchinson was booted. Supposedly, he didn't let anyone even meet us until he was sure, especially after what happened before." Kennedy said, "Egan let me in on it, Mr. Chatterbox. Anyway, it seems legit. The entire thing. And she made it through all their levels of inspection, interviews, questioning, all of it. She's good." The group seemed to gravitate to looking towards Francis, attempting to judge her facial expressions before coming to a consensus.

"Francis?" Bessie offered. Francis was quiet for a moment, then leaned forward and took the beer bottle in her hand.

"I won't say anything until she's up there flying Silver Bullets."

[dreamy625]

Overture and beginners - chapter 4

< Chapter 3

Words: 2852 (I still cannot write short chapters)

Content: Is it still called smut when it’s intrinsic to the plot? And if you’re incapable of writing sensuous prose and end up with something a little awkward? Anyway, there’s some of whatever it is

-----------------------------

“Wow, I don’t envy poor Rick having to carry his drums up and down these stairs.”

“Amps and speakers aren’t a whole bunch of fun either. We thought about trying to put in some kind of pulley system, but the risk of dropping something you’d spent months saving for was too scary.”

They got to the top of the second flight of steep, narrow steps and Steve put his key into the rusty lock and jiggled it until it turned and he could push open the door. It was almost as cold inside as outside and the first thing he did was switch on the two electric heaters. 

Katie looked around at the mishmash of old furniture, threadbare rugs, band posters, and a drum riser apparently built from packing crates nailed together. “Aw, you made yourselves a little clubhouse,” she teased.

“I’ll have you know we are serious musicians and this is a bona fide rehearsal studio,” he retorted with mock affront. 

“Of course, my sincere apologies. The next best thing to Abbey Road I’m sure. How much does it cost?”

“Fiver a week, so a pound each, which is not too bad. And that includes the electric. Wouldn’t want to run this lot,” he waved his arm at the assembled instruments and equipment, “off a meter.”

“Suppose not. Can I?” she asked, gesturing at Rick’s drums.

“Sure, there'll be some sticks on the floor somewhere I expect.”

Katie sat down on the stool and tapped out a few rhythms, pretending not to notice that Steve took this opportunity to hastily take down the topless glamour girl picture pinned to a cupboard door!

“Will you play something for me?”

“Noooo,” he demurred, “you don’t need to hear me make a noise.”

“I do, and it’s not a noise. I bet you’re good; you spend every hour you’re not at work here, so you must be by now!”

“I’m alright,” he mumbled. “Okay, fine, I’ll play.” He couldn’t continue to say no in the face of those big round imploring eyes. 

He clicked open the catches on one of the guitar cases and pulled out a honey-coloured guitar.

“Ooh, pretty.”

“It’s only a copy. But one day I’ll have a real one.” He slipped the strap over his head and bent to switch on his amp and plug in, then stood in front of the drum riser checking the tuning and running through some scales while staring thoughtfully at the wall. “What shall I play?”

“Anything you want. I’d like to hear one of your favourites.”

Steve started to play something, a slow, yearning ballad, that sounded vaguely familiar but she couldn’t place it. 

“That was lovely.”

Steve continued to move his fingers on the strings without strumming and didn’t look up, but she could see him smiling to himself. Then he straightened up, stepped his legs wide, and, with his eyes closed, belted out the opening riff to, easily recognisable even to Katie’s untrained ear, Immigrant Song by Led Zeppelin. 

When he finished and struck a pose, arm in the air, she clapped enthusiastically. “Wow. You are… amazing. No, seriously,” she reiterated as Steve shook his head vigorously, “really, really, REALLY good.”

“Oh stop it. And don’t look at me like that,” he begged, all the rock star bravado of a moment ago gone. 

“Like what?”

“Like I’m… Elvis or something.”

“You’d better get used to it, buster. Because thousands of people are going to look at you like that one day soon! That is… are the rest of your band as good as you?”

“I think… we’re all pretty good in our own ways. But together… yeah, I think we’ve really got something.”

“Well, sign me up as your first fan.” She jumped up from the sofa and gave him a sideways hug, avoiding the guitar.

“First groupie?” he asked with a cheeky grin.

“Play your cards right,” she replied, coiling her arms round his neck and pulling him down for a kiss.

Some minutes later, and sunk into the slightly musty cushions of the old sofa, they didn’t hear footsteps on the stairs or the door hinges creak, but they did hear Joe’s laugh, “Jesus, Sav, not again.” And as Steve’s head jerked around, “Ooh, not Sav! Well, well, this is a turn up for the books - Mr Clark getting his end away!”

“Sod off Joe, we weren’t… we were just kissing,” protested Steve, pulling his shirt down and running his hand through his dishevelled hair.

“Oh aye, and the rest! You know you’re supposed to hang your jacket on the door handle when you’re using the place for that kind of caper. What if innocent little Rick had walked in instead of me? He’d be traumatised!”

“Firstly, ‘innocent little Rick’ has had more girlfriends than both of us put together, and secondly, we WEREN’T doing that. Look, trousers on and everything!”

“Oh give over yer daft 'apeth, I’m only kidding. You gonna introduce me to your lady friend?”

Katie, who had stayed hidden behind Steve’s shoulder, peeked out and waved awkwardly.

“Joe, Katie; Katie, Joe. Our singer. And resident comedian.”

“Nice to meet you Katie, and sorry about interrupting your, err…”

“What are you even doing here - practice isn’t for hours?”

“Mum’s got friends round and the sitting room’s full of knitting and giggling. United are away, so I thought I’d come here, try and do a bit of writing, and then listen to the match on the radio.”

“So you’re here the rest of the day then?”

“Yeah, sorry mate, it’s pissing down and I’ve nowhere else to go. You’re welcome to stay, as long as you behave - I’m not watching you two slobber over each other all afternoon!”

Steve and Katie exchanged not particularly thrilled looks. “Weeell, my parents are supposed to be going out, I could phone the house and check if they’ve gone yet?” she suggested.

“There’s an idea.” He turned to Joe, “We’ll be off then, enjoy the… who are they playing?”

“Blackburn,” he answered gloomily.

“Oh dear, I won’t say enjoy the match then. See you later.”

With Katie pulling on her anorak and Steve just flicking up the collar of his denim jacket (he never seemed to have a proper coat), they left Joe regarding both an empty sheet of paper and his team’s prospects without enthusiasm.

-----------------------------

The smooching session that had started in the rehearsal room, continued on the bus back from town, and paused only long enough to make sure the rest of the Raffertys definitely were out, had reached fever-pitch with shirts removed, hands all over, and bodies entwined on the narrow single bed.

With a groan, Steve pulled away and rolled onto his back.

“What’s wrong? Did I do something…”

“Oh no, it was really nice. Just… it could get… err, messy if we go on much longer.” Embarrassed, he avoided her gaze, looking up at the ceiling and adjusting the waistband of his jeans to try and make everything less squashed.

“It would be less messy if you… took it out?” suggested Katie hesitantly.

“I… oh… really?”

She nodded, and so he unbuttoned, unzipped, and wriggled his jeans down. He was wearing blue boxers, that were displaying a distinctly tent-like shape! 

He looked back at her for reassurance. “Promise you won’t laugh?”

“Maybe!” she teased, then made her face serious. “No, I won’t laugh. Promise.”

He pulled the underpants down too, revealing, well, she had no real comparison to make, but from things she’d heard from girlfriends, it seemed quite impressive. 

“Can I touch?”

“If you want,” agreed Steve, feigning nonchalance.

Katie ran a finger gently down the length, and giggled when it twitched at her touch. 

“Like this?” she asked, wrapping her hand around the base, “And this?” as she slid her hand upwards.

Steve swallowed audibly, “Uh huh.”

When she hesitated, not wanting to do it wrong, he put his hand over hers and guided it up and down for a few strokes. She concentrated on keeping that rhythm going while studying, subtly so he wouldn’t get self-conscious, the piece of equipment in her hands. It was sort of fascinating - the only penis she’d really seen up ‘till now was in that mortifying sex education film at school, and she’d certainly never got up close and personal with one before. Steve held quite still, and when she looked up at his face, his eyes were closed and his lips slightly parted, letting out ragged breaths.

“Is that okay?”

“Perfect.” It came out raspy.

She leaned over and kissed him, and he kissed back, increasingly sloppy and uncoordinated, until she dragged her lips to the corner of his mouth, across his jaw, and down to his throat. She pressed them to his collarbone, his chest, anywhere she could reach, and felt his hips rocking beneath her hand. The only sounds he made were a muttered request for ‘faster’, and then almost-silent grunts on every stroke until, with a final sharp intake of breath, he shot warm white goo over her hand and his stomach.

Katie wasn’t quite sure what to do then. She reached over to the nightstand for tissues and wiped her hand. Steve had thrown his arm across his eyes and she prised it up.

“Are you hiding from me?”

“No! Yes.” Finally he met her eyes. “That was amazing. Thank you.” She handed him a wad of tissues and he mopped carefully at the mess, making sure not to get any on the sheets.

De-gunked, Steve held out his arms and Katie snuggled up to him, her head on his chest. He trailed his fingers up and down her back.

“I’d like to… I want to touch you too, if you’d like that? But I’m scared I’ll be crap at it.”

Katie hugged him tighter. “Aren’t guitarists supposed to be good with their hands?”

“Hehe, I suppose so. But I don’t know… girl bits sound… complicated.”

Picking up on the ‘sound’ part, Katie guessed, “Because you’ve never done it before?” She had an odd feeling asking that. Blokes were supposed to be experienced, weren’t they? But she found she felt suddenly proprietorial, jealous of any girl that had been there before.

“No,” admitted Steve, “but I’ve read three issues of Cosmopolitan if that helps!”

“It’s a good start,” she laughed, “and it’s not that complicated, I could show you. Oh,” she had a sudden thought, “we should wash our hands first, just in case there’s any of that… stuff hanging around.”

They padded across to the bathroom and washed; Steve kept his hands under the hot tap for an extra-long time so that they’d be warm. Back in the bedroom, Katie took her skirt off and they got under the covers. Steve ran his hand down her side to her thigh, getting acquainted with new places he hadn’t properly got to touch before, then back up to her stomach and over the lace of her bra.

“Can I take this off?”

She nodded and he reached behind and unsnapped it.

“See, nimble guitarist fingers!” she exclaimed.

“If you can play an E flat added ninth, bra clips are a piece of cake.”

He slid the strap over her shoulder, kissing the faint red mark it left behind. Katie pulled her other arm through and dropped the garment off the side of the bed.

“Beautiful,” he breathed, trailing his fingers gently round the curve of her breast. It tickled a little and Katie tried not to giggle.

He ducked his head and kissed first one nipple and then the other, followed by an experimental lick and then, very gently, sucking. A quick intake of breath from above made him pause, but fingers squeezing his shoulder encouraged him to continue. He swirled his tongue and was rewarded with a shuddering breathy ‘ohh’. He repeated the trick on the other side (wouldn't want it to feel left out) to more appreciative noises, and then lifted his head.

“You like that?”

She nodded, a little flushed. “How did you learn how to do that?”

Steve shrugged one shoulder, “That was me learning it.”

“Clever boy. Do it again?”

“Yes ma’am.”

With multi-tasking skills honed by many hours of lathe work, he also reached down and slipped his hand under the waistband of her knickers, stroking around her hipbone and across her lower belly. “Do we need these?” he asked teasingly.

“We do not,” she replied, and he tugged them down far enough that she could kick them off completely.

This was definitely new territory and he explored tentatively, sliding fingertips over the soft skin of her inner thighs and curving his hand over the mound in between. “Teach me what to do.”

Katie reached for his hand and guided his first two fingers. “So I guess the main, um, landmarks, are here,” she moved his fingers in a circle, “and here.” She took his hand down lower, to what felt to Steve like a confusing pattern of soft folds that he mentally tried to match with the diagram in the biology textbook and some magazines he kept hidden in a box of sheet music at the bottom of his wardrobe. “And it helps if you lick your fingers first,” she added.

Steve did so, noticing the exciting new smell on his skin just from those brief touches. 

“So like this? In circles?”

“Uh huh,” she muttered, slightly distracted as she got used to the weirdness of someone else touching her in that way, trying to remember the details of what she did when she was alone. “You can vary speed and pressure and… oh I don’t know - improvise!”

“Got it.”

He propped himself up on the other elbow and went to work, moving his hand in slow, deliberate circles.

Katie giggled as she looked at his face with its furrowed brow, “You look like you’re taking an exam!”

“Shush, you. I’m concentrating. Close your eyes.”

She did, and that was better, shyness dissipating and just the pleasurable feeling of Steve stroking her and his warm breath on her cheek. He leaned in and kissed her, and that was even better. She moaned into his mouth as he hit a particularly good rhythm, and felt his lips curve into a smile. When she pulled back to take a breath, he moved his head down to kiss her neck, licking and sucking gently down to her collarbone and back up. 

He sensed her body relaxing and she bent her knee to open her legs wider, which he took as an invitation to move his fingers lower. 

“Ooh slimy!” he observed without thinking about it.

“STEVE! Euw!”

“Sorrysorrysorry! But that’s what’s supposed to happen isn’t it?”

“Yes. Just don’t say it like that!”

“Sorry. Wet. Slippery. Silky.” He punctuated each word with an apologetic kiss. “That’s what I meant.”

“Better.” She smiled and settled back on the pillow, closing her eyes once more. 

Steve wiggled his finger around searching for the right spot and then, when he found it, eased his finger in, smooth and easy once he got the angle right. As he slid the finger in and out of the slick, welcoming warmth, he briefly got distracted, wondering how it would feel to put his… no, this was about Katie, not him, he had to focus. She seemed to be enjoying his ministrations, but how could he make it even better for her?

He broke off from kissing her neck to ask, “Two?”

“Mm-hmm,” she answered without opening her eyes.

His fingers were bigger than hers but the extra stretch wasn’t unpleasant, in fact, after a moment to get used to it, it felt good, great. She angled her hips to get more contact and he seemed to understand what she needed, adjusting his position so that she could press against the heel of his hand. Remembering a particularly informative magazine article, he twisted his wrist and found that, yes, he could reach her clit with his thumb at the same time, and she gasped and clenched around his fingers. It didn’t take long after that for her breathing to quicken and turn to panting, then her head arched back and she came with a long ‘ahh’ and he could feel her knees shaking as well as the spasming inside. It felt like such a privilege to watch that, to be the cause of that, a fantasy come true. He moved to cradle her head, brushing away a tendril of hair that had stuck to her forehead and pressing a kiss to the damp skin. He waited until her breathing slowed and the grip around his fingers loosened before carefully easing them out and resting his hand on her thigh, where he could still feel the occasional twitch of a muscle. 

Katie blinked, coming back to Earth, and her face broke into a grin. “‘Scuse swearing but holy shit, Steve! How does a nice boy like you know how to do that?”

“Um, is it bad if I say from Playboy?”

She laughed, “I think I need to send a thank you letter to the editors!”

Chapter 5 >

[duhragonball]

Dragon Ball GT 48

✨GT Stands For Guilt Trip✨

Well, we finally made it to the home stretch.  This is the Shadow Dragons Saga, the last arc in Dragon Ball GT.  And it’s pretty fucking terrible, let’s make that clear up front.  I was willing to be diplomatic about GT when I started.  I was prepared to wade through the nonsense of the early episodes, and I let my interest in Tuffle lore keep me engaged with the Baby Saga, and I barely remembered the Super 17 Saga, so I powered through that one by sheer curiosity. 

But the Shadow Dragons Saga sucks ass.  I say this with zero respect to anyone who worked on this anime.  This arc is like watching an oil spill happen.  This arc is like the time I found a dead bird in the vent duct of my dryer.   I’d rather go to the dentist than watch this crap, because at least it wouldn’t take as long.

I’ll be honest with you, dear reader, liveblogging GT has really worn me down.  I wanted to cover this one for the sake of completion, and so I could have a handy reference to each episode in the future, and I also thought it could be a lot of fun to critique the show in a playful sort of way.  But I didn’t take into account just how awful this show really was, or the mental toll it would take on me to spend so much time on it. 

So from here on out, I’m just gonna augur in and get this over with.  Strap yourselves in, because we’re about to see quite possibly the worst Dragon Ball saga ever made.  I’m not sure if the individual episodes are worse than the ones we’ve seen so far, but the arc as a whole is a master class in how to piss away your audience’s goodwill.

✨"Good" "Ideas", Poorly Executed✨

Oh, where do I even begin?  Okay, so when Dr. Gero opened up that portal between Hell and Earth, it caused all these disasters across the Earth, on top of the damage done by Super 17 and Gero’s allies.  Dragon Team decided to summon Shenron to wish away all the death and destruction, but the Dragon Balls were cracked, and when they called Shenron, a bunch of smoke billowed out of the Balls, and a new, shady-looking Dragon emerged. 

King Kai warned Goku that it wasn’t Shenron, but the dragon itself seemed to identify as the same Shenron that Dragon Team had used in the past.  I’m pretty sure it’s the same guy, just changed beyond recognition.  Anyway, this is sometimes referred to as “Smoke Shenron”, and he never actually does anything in this form.  He just tells the good guys that he’s not going to be their “lapdog” any more, and then he takes the Dragon Balls and splits himself into seven parts, each one taking a Dragon Ball in a different direction. 

One annoying part of this is how no one can agree on who’s going to explain this situation. King Kai starts, but then the Elder Supreme Kai cuts him off, but then he’s so furious about it that Kibitoshin has to explain it instead, and then Dende and Mr. Popo show up to add their thoughts.  So I’m just going to give you the summary without getting into who says what.

During the Majin Buu Saga, Kibitoshin heard about the Earthling’s plans to use the Dragon Balls, but he seemed to have no idea what they were.  Later, the Elder Kai caught wind of it, and expressed disapproval.  According to him, the Dragon Balls were a special dispensation to Namekians, and should only be used sparingly.  The idea of the Earth having its own set was bothersome to him, and he seemed uncomfortable about using them to undo the damage of the Buu crisis, even when he was one of the people resurrected by the wishes.  In Dragon Ball Z, it sounded like he was just objecting to the whole thing on moral grounds.

But in this episode, we learn that his warnings we based on very real, very serious dangers. Each time you use the Dragon Balls, you introduce “minus energy” into them.  This arc really lays it on thick with the terms “plus energy” and “minus energy”, so get used to that.  I guess the deal is that it takes plus energy to grant a wish, so each time the Dragon Balls get used, they lose plus and gain minus?  Fuck it, who cares?  The point is that if they get used too often, the minus energy builds up inside the Dragon Balls, until they can’t contain it anymore, and this is what led to the events of this episode.  The next time Shenron is summoned, he comes out looking all weird and instead of granting wishes, he buggers off to start destroying the world.

In theory, the Dragon Balls can safely release this pent-up minus energy after each wish, but it takes about a hundred years for that to happen.  This is why the Dragon Balls scatter after each use.  By the time anyone can find all seven of them again, centuries would have passed, and the minus energy from the previous wish would be gone. 

However, that natural cooldown period got hijacked when Bulma invented the Dragon Radar.  Thanks to her, the Dragon Balls could be gathered much more easily.   Hell, just look at the last episode.  Goku, Trunks, and Pan went to gather the Balls at the tail end of Episode 47 and it didn’t take any time at all.  So over the past forty years, they’ve been making tons and tons of wishes, and that’s overloaded the Dragon Balls.  

The danger now is that Shenron will destroy the Earth.  I think there was a line about how it’s been cut off from the rest of the universe, but I’m not sure if I interpreted it correctly.  There’s also some concern that Shenron might continue his rampage and destroy the rest of the universe as well.  So Goku resolves to hunt down Shenron and kick his ass, which will presumably restore things to normal.

Okay, so that’s the premise.  Here’s why it sucks.

1) This is just a retread of the Black Star Dragon Balls.  I’ve already explained my gripes about the BS Dragon Balls, but the short version is that there was a prototype set of Dragon Balls hidden away for centuries, and using them can destroy the whole world, and Mr. Popo knew about them the whole time and never said anything.  The BS Dragon Balls were written out of the story in Episode 40, so now we’ve returned to the classic Red Star Dragon Balls we’ve always known, and suddenly they turn out to have the same problem, where they’re too dangerous to use.  So it’s not even original.

2) Why didn’t anyone say anything about this until now? This is the worst kind of retcon, the kind where new lore is introduced that doesn’t even remotely fit into the established history.  As this episode states, the gang have been using the Dragon Balls for decades.  During that time, they met Kami, who created the Dragon Balls, and other characters like Mr. Popo, Guru, Moori, and Dende, who know a great deal about creating and maintaining Dragon Balls.  Throughout Dragon Ball and DBZ, characters will pose questions about the kinds of wishes they can make, and what rules apply, and the experts will mull it over and give clear, concise answers.  On occasion, Shenron himself will counsel the characters who summon him, explaining the limitations of his powers and making helpful suggestions for how to word their wishes.  

The point I’m making here is that the Dragon Balls are extremely user-friendly.  The hard part is gathering them all together, but once you’ve done that, there’s plenty of guidance on how to use them and what not to do. And at no point did anyone ever bring up the dangers of overuse.  And yet, when Episode 48 comes along, you have King Kai, Kibitoshin, the Elder Kai, and Mr. Popo all going “Yeah, you assholes blew it.  You shouldn’t have used them so much.”  

3) If the Dragon Balls need 100 years to reset, then why do they work the way they do?  From the start, the Dragon Balls turn into stone for a year, after which they change back into orange crystal orbs and they can be used again.  This was written into the story to explain why the characters can’t just constantly re-gather the Dragon Balls for continuous wishing.  But it’s implied that this is a cooldown period to reset them for the next use.  This is further clarified when Dende reactivates the Dragon Balls in the Cell Saga.  They ask him to upgrade the Dragon Balls to grant three wishes instead of just one, and he can do it, but it means adjusting the “wishing power”.  Shenron can’t be made to grant 800 wishes in one go, because there’s a limit to what he can do in one summoning.  Porunga seems to have far greater capacity than Shenron, which is why he can resurrect people multiple times, restore whole planets, and always grant three wishes every 130 days.  But I assume this is because he’s built different.  

So there’s already a lot of logistical considerations built into the Dragon Ball concept.  And yet this episode suggests that the 1-year cooldown is only one percent of the time the Dragon Balls actually need to reset.  If that were true, then why didn’t Kami or Dende fix it so they turn to stone for 100 years instead of just one? 

Also, this episode mentions how Dende upgraded the Dragon Balls to grant more wishes, which only compounded the problem.  Well if Dende knew that was an issue, why the hell did he do it? And if he didn’t know, then how is he qualified to make and maintain Dragon Balls in the first place?  Dende doesn’t have much to say in this episode, which doesn’t make any fucking sense, because he should know more about Dragon Balls than anyone else in the show.  He’s a Dragon Type Namekian!  He literally studied the art of making Dragon Balls!  That’s why they recruited him to become the new Kami of Earth!  Moori said all of this when he recommended Dende to Goku! 

It really, really annoys me how this series keeps deferring to Mr. Popo for all of the Dragon Ball lore.  Popo is an attendant to the reigning Kami of Earth.  He’s not a Namekian, and everything he knows about Namekian culture and Dragon Balls, he learned from Kami, a Namekian.  Dende is a Namekian.  Everything he learned about Namekian culture and Dragong Balls, he learned on Namek.  He knew all about this stuff before he came to Earth, and then he kept studying it afterward.  And unlike Kami, Dende didn’t lose his memories of his people. 

If this Shadow Dragon nonsense made any sense at all, then Dende should be the one explaining it to the others.  Instead, they’re all explaining it to him, like he’s some idiot who never knew how any of this worked.

Seriously, how the fuck would Mr. Popo know about an evil dragon destroying another planet?  He’s never left Earth.  What would he know about any of this? I could see Dende reading about something like this in some book of Namekian legends, but not Popo.  Hey, speaking of Dende...

4) Why don’t they just kill Dende?  Everyone talks about this Shenron problem like it’s irreversible, but Shenron’s not invincible.  King Piccolo killed him with a ki blast, and he’s a weakling compared to most of the characters in this show.  But even if Shenron got stronger from all this minus energy, and killing Shenron isn’t an option, then why don’t they just kill Dende? 

This has always been the way it works.  When Nappa killed Piccolo, Kami died too, and the Dragon Balls were deactivated.  When Guru died, the Namekian Dragon Balls were deactivated.  When Kami and Piccolo fused into one, the Earth’s Dragon Balls were deactivated.  According to GT, their fusion somehow reactivated the Black Star Dragon Balls, which is why Piccolo allowed himself to die in Episode 40, so they would never endanger anyone again.  So it’s clear that the people making GT understood this concept. 

Well then, the Earth’s Dragon Balls are under the stewardship of Dende now, so if he dies, they should stop working.  This was a major plot point in the Buu Saga, where they needed to keep Dende alive in order to wish everyone back to life after Buu was defeated.  Kill Dende, kill Shenron. 

I’m not saying they should have actually gone through with this, but why doesn’t anyone bring it up?  Or, a more humane option would be to break that sculpture of Shenron that Mr. Popo made.  I’m pretty sure Kami and Dende always had the power to turn Shenron off when it suited their purposes.  We never saw that put into practice, but the pecking order was always very clear.  Shenron is not a “god” or a “mysterious legend”.  He’s a magic familiar under the control of Dende.  Shenron can’t do shit without Dende to allow it. 

5) What about the Namekian Dragon Balls?  If this is a problem on Earth, then why has it never been an issue on Namek, where the Dragon Balls can be used much more frequently?  Do they just know how to avoid the problem, or do they wait 100 years between wishes?  I ask this because we’ve seen Porunga grant a dozen wishes in about as many years.  Oh, and in GT, they used Porunga again to restore the Earth after it exploded in Episode 40.  So the Namekian Dragon Balls have been overused at least as badly as the Earth’s Dragon Balls.  So where’s their Shadow Dragon problem? 

But maybe I’m being too hard on this story.  Yeah, there’s a lot of plot holes to this, but ultimately it comes down to a pretty cool angle.  The final boss of Dragon Ball is the Dragon himself.  Goku has to fight the Dragon to save the universe, and the Dragon has split into seven, which means Goku has to throw down with seven badass monsters, like some kind of awesome fantasy martial arts gauntlet.  Right?

Right?

You’re shaking your head, are you saying that the Shadow Dragons are not badass monsters?  Well that can’t be right, I’m sure that.... Oh.  Oh.

6) The Shadow Dragons suck ass.   Goku tracks down the first one and he looks like a joke.  Then a rock falls on his toe and he cries out in pain, revealing that he doesn’t just look like a joke, he is a joke.

This is played off like some sort of “appearances can be deceiving” trope, where the moral is not to underestimate your foe.   But that’s really not what this series needed at this stage.  You kind of knew that the Shadow Dragons would get increasingly difficult with each one, so the very first one would be the weakest, but this is ridiculous.  By the end, the last three give Super Saiyan 4 Goku a hard time, but the first four Shadow Dragons are total chumps.  They play their tricks and give Goku some trouble, but not because of any physical strength they possess.  And then you finally get to the “serious” Dragons at the end, and the fights suck, because GT is terrible at presenting fight scenes.

And this is what makes the arc so damned infuriating.  The Saiyans Saga from Z worked because it opened with a devastating conflict--Goku dies, for goodness’ sake!-- and then it promises an even more terrible enemy will appear in one year.  So the heroes train and the story winds on and the arc relies on this suspense.  What are the two Saiyans going to do when they get here?  How strong could they be?   Can anything stop them?  Then they finally arrive and the first thing they do is destroy a whole city.   The second thing they do is kill several major characters.  After it’s over, Goku spends the next several episodes in the hospital, because Vegeta broke every bone in his body!  The Saiyans Saga did not fuck around, and the reason it’s such a classic is that it delivered on the hype.

The Shadow Dragons Saga is the polar opposite to this.  This arc opens with dire warnings about seven monsters who will surely destroy the whole world, and it blunders the execution in every possible way.  The last Shadow Dragon is the only one that really matters, and he throws a clock at Goku, just to give you an idea of how “intense” that battle is.   You watch this garbage hoping that each new Shadow Dragon will redeem the disappointments that came before, and then you finally look up and notice that there are no more.   All of the Shadow Dragons came and went, and they all sucked. 

✨Positivity Page✨

There was a montage of all the wishes made over the years, so I guess that was pretty nice.  I’ll be honest, it’s gonna be really hard to find anything nice to say about these next few episodes. 

✨Is This Episode Worse than "The Roaming Lake"?✨

Yes.  It is worse.  The Roaming Lake is pretty much guaranteed to make a clean sweep of this thing.  All hope is lost.

One major problem with this episode is that very little actually gets done.  Most of the runtime is spent infodumping the Shadow Dragon concept, and I think I’ve already made my opinion on that very clear.  They spent a lot of time explaining the thing, but they managed to avoid every question that I had about it.

The rest of the episode shows lots of pointless scenes of Shadow Dragons flying around the world, choosing their bases of operations and selecting their powers.  One of them flies into a volcano and he’s going to be their fire guy.  That sort of thing.   Then Goku remembers he forgot the Dragon Radar, so Pan offers to let him have Giru, but only if she can tag along.  Then they find Haze Shenron, who looks like the love child of a frog and a moldy potato.

✨The Blade Braxton Memorial Haiku*✨

Yeah, this show gets worse. 

Don’t worry, though.  We still have

Plenty of Giru.

[the-firebird69]

We're noticing that people are figuring out that John remillard is the one moving houses around and taking them apart and he's saying to do it to people and he's after the house in the low desert and he is a massive massive pig and Sarah is too and we are going after them we learned about them in world war two when he was Hitler that he's a huge pig and we're going to dissect him over and over until he's nothing I'm going to put him in a petri dish and we don't like him for what he's done the a****** was actually in a holocaust prison and you can't really do much more to someone so we have to like brutally treated badly and the Sun starts doing it says he doesn't get too bad for this not too bad from that and eventually we find the mark he says he's seen it a few times and he cries and screams and can't figure out what to do so we're going to head right now and yeah he's Publix grocery store you tried messing with the credit card and failed he had some girl screwed up screw around with it and she failed and she he prepped her so she's mad at him and the credit card worked of course and we noticed that they are working on the backup and we hate them right now we are going to attack them. So they made him forget the strap his shirts in for some reason and we lost the kicker 5150 shirt in the street and he picked a black one up on the sidewalk and he picked the white one up the kicker shirt in the street when it was safe but before that he's heading back to the intersection cuz the guy said you lost your shirt and he's pointing at him no it was a thumbs up and he couldn't tell the difference so he's making like the gun symbol and he's saying that our son can't get his money and that's what he's saying there's a bunch of people around him who are having him do it and he's doing it too so and I'm putting a hit on you with the money I don't have and people are scared and they said we don't want to work for you cuz you can't tell you're getting hit cuz you're doing that s*** every night and every day your brains are getting blown out all over the place and it's really not me but holy s*** you stupid people nobody does that to me no one because they get killed now you're stupid stupid and you don't know it you might as well flush yourselves you're so goddamn dumb. It's very true that the people there are stupid and are hit in the head these people are running things in their TBI victims and they don't know anything and their people are not running it and they're getting killed too but they're not that stupid compared to these two idiots here so he's in Jeopardy because he's wild cards are on top of him and John Reed we put a hit on you and it's pretty hefty and it's in house we don't pay these people anything.

-this is an ongoing issue with this person but if he's not here they have someone else do it Dave would be the next one to be the idiot and so on right now we're going after people who are causing it and their son and daughter are right they are going up and down from their bases and their sitting there killing themselves in the tunnels we have to help out to make sure that we're just not killing clones or not and not that they're keeping up with it and training them to do other stuff and we're going ahead and checking and we see it a little so now we're getting mad cuz they want their kids to take care of place and you don't care so they say they're making new babies like cloning with a train them to do a word our job is and they're smarter and also they get pissed off and said we have to do something so it might do something it might not and what he says is we need to get rid of those people these people and I'm looking at these factories and they're not signing up and they're not going to work and it's a BS thing so he said we go in and we take over areas and was slaughtered and comes there to mess it up whether we start the factory or not and we're going to do that cuz we said we were and we're going to start the hard knock kicker 5150 company and we're going to play in this s*** head John renillard and boy what an a****** he is

-we're taking the threat seriously and we're going after his and he wants us to bust into the stashes and caches if it's slowed and it really has not slowed bja is amping it up good and he's going to break in and take it in this fool will be gone he really only has like 3.8% off Island and that's poor this is mostly his people that died and Tommy f is saying it if we set that up this ass will go out there and would kill them all and nobody will know what the place is they don't know where it is and he'll try and tell people and it's his idiots I started laughing because he says he put in some walls and if you foundations and the idiot will send everybody to go look at some crappy concrete now I'm laughing cuz it's really what it is is like this cheap cheap method of building it's not we can strong 20,000 is but most of it's 10,000 and it's really really interesting and it's a good idea and he tried to do it with the shops and people would not do it but this is how we should do it and we should do it with the shops he doesn't want the shops back we're going to find out pretty quick you can just destroy more of his own stuff and it's symbolic I might actually do that

Tommy f

Olympus

[sunsents]

Empty - F.W (1/2)

Gah daym this was a JOURNEY to write. I swore to myself to never write angst because, well I suck at it. But here we are, I swear this has a good ending because my heart can't bear that. I could've written this much better, so I promise to bring my A GAME for chapter 2. Enjoy, also Lee in this is a hate crime. This is very story telling-esk so I hope it flows well.

I wouldn't have written this chapter without the help of my good friend @mochiixjimin she helped me edit and spice up this whole thing so thank you so much to her! She's an amazing writer, go check out her work and show her some big love right now or else!! her wattpad

Chapter 1 out of 2 (Backstory)

Summary —> Life has always been a cruel joke to you, yet you simply play along. Overshadowed by Eva Burke your whole life, watching from the sidelines while everyone flooded each other with love, it would always feel like a joke.

Pairing: fredweasley x fem!reader

Word count: 6.1k

Warnings: ANGST ANGST ANGST (with a fluffy ending in the second part) / One mature scene (18+) and then it's angst again <3 / Some slander / Offensive language

Rating: 18+

DON’T REPOST MY WORK

You were a bright child.

Beaming bright enough to keep a tight lipped smile during flu-shots, and enough to put on a happy façade when your dad threw away the drawing you had done of your family dog, rather than hang it up on the fridge.

Children have foolish dreams, and that was yours. Your friends in preschool boasted about their pictures being hung like trophies on fridges, with decorative magnets and even bigger pink bow ties.

The fridge in the Y/L/N manor was empty. Always empty, just how Ms. Y/L/N liked it. Empty marble floors with empty rug designs, and empty rooms with even emptier people living in it. They were both empty people. Hollow and void of any emotion, at least towards you.

You were different though. You were filled to the brim with ambition and hope and so many positive emotions that your parents never seemed to reflect on you. You were like those Disney princesses. The princesses always had hope, and when you have hope good things happen.

Right?

Your dad never meant to give you false hope. He just wished you’d keep your mouth shut as he worked until late hours. Using big words and having big aspirations, you shouldn’t have.

Mr and Mrs Y/L/N weren't bad people per say, just busy. They didn't know how to raise a child, this was obvious, because the purpose of even having a child was to fix their marriage. But a temporary fix wouldn't do it, it never did. There was always that hole on the roof, leaking rain of despair into their falsely built home that no bucket big enough could hold back. Because it always found a way to overflow.

They didn't know how to show their love, so they did it with money, clothes, toys and crayons that you would later use to draw pictures of your family, only to have them end up in the dumpster once again.

They spoiled you rotten, bought you gifts you never even dreamed of asking. You just shut up and enjoyed it, what else could you do? Whine and demand attention? Risk losing their favor? There was no favor to lose.

You got yourself a fat A plus on your third grade math test. Star stickers on your chest, you entered through the glass double doors of your house with a crooked smile - two front teeth missing of course - making your joy all the more endearing. Your backpack strapped tightly over your narrow shoulders, hanging low with all the crammed books you pushed before leaving school because you were just so excited to show your parents.

You received a big sloppy kiss from your Nanny, who practically was like a second mom to you, and dashed right into your fathers office to show him your new accomplishment.

"Good job, I'm proud of you."

You froze. You found a way to actually get their attention. The attention you so craved, the recognition you would die for. This was revolutionary. Basically a new era for you.

Nanny made you a star shaped cake that night, and sat with you while gently stroking your hair and listening to you blabber about how easy the math questions were. It felt warm, motherly love. Even if it was false, it would never compare to the love of your own mother, a love you would never get.

You spent all your night studying, your eyes burning under the harsh light of your lamp in the early mornings and your pencil, ebbing away over sheets and sheets of blank paper. Writing away your little hands off until they ached, just to snatch another A and get a good job.

This was good, it worked out very well. You became that student who looked forward to class, just to get a good grade and have the validation of your parents. The sight of your father’s lips quirk up even in the slightest, and how your mother’s eyes shone briefly in appreciation of your hard work, even if it was for a quick second, it was worth it.

Until the new neighbors moved in.

Mr. Burke was a round, cheerful man with an even rounder belly, and a big fat pipe that always hung on his lips. Mrs Burke looked and acted like those fairy godmothers you adored. You couldn’t believe such people existed. Mr Y/L/N invited them over for dinner, for courtesy. He was not happy about said courtesy.

He ended up liking the couple, they had a little daughter called Eva, who was small and adorable with round red cheeks and big doe eyes. Not only Mr and Mrs Burke, but the Y/L/N’s adored Eva as well. She was happy, always smiling, and her teeth weren't nearly as crooked as yours, not to mention she had pretty long hair like a princess.

You liked her a lot, took her to pick flowers, showed her the drawings you had prepared for the empty fridge; in case Mr Y/L/N ever had a change of heart and hung them up, you had been trying for three years and weren't giving up any sooner.

Eva was nice, kind enough to share her M&M's and very used to compliments unlike you. She seemed to get a lot from her parents and yours. The adults were so kind to her, always smothering her with love and kisses. You were happy for Eva, happy that Eva somehow managed to gain the favor of your parents before you did.

Little girls tended to be jealous, you weren’t. You were just glad to have a friend so cool, she didn't blush and stutter under praise and apparently her drawings were pretty enough to go on a fridge.

It was a Thursday afternoon when your mom smiled at you for the first time since your last exam grade. "Look, Eva drew us a picture, isn't it pretty?"

The crayola stash under your bed was no longer needed, they appeared clumsily dumped in the neighborhood trash the next day, most of them stomped under the pressure of your little sneakers. And the bundle of drawings you hid under your pillow, wishing on fairy godmother that one day they would be hung up too, were ripped; clearly a struggle given. You had paper cuts on your hands, and your Nanny thankfully applied ointment before Ms and Mr Y/L/N noticed, or rather, stopped to care.

Though you knew that even if you paraded herself with bloody fingers dripping to your elbows, they wouldn't care.

Nanny did, she was there. There when you were haunted with nightmares when the moon was particularly dark, cooing at you and letting you sleep next to her in that small bed of hers. There when you tripped and fell, small scratch resulting in a screaming tantrum. She was gentle, sweet, paid well.

You decided to go and pick flowers with Eva, and make a pretty flower crown for yourself, months after your drawing incident. Of course, you didn't have such silly dreams anymore. You didn’t wish to have your pictures hung, to have your mother wear the flower crowns you made and frankly you didn’t care for the sight of the sparkle in your parents eyes. Nanny’s was enough.

Eva agreed, dressed in a pink tutu Mrs Y/L/N gifted. You didn't comment, though deep down you gazed at the skirt in sparkling envy. Your mother never bothered to get you such pretty things. The two of you gathered saturated petals and nice ribbons while giggling amongst yourselves. Until, you accidentally caused Eva’s flowers to levitate.

Eva ran home, crying and calling you a witch. Mr and Mrs Y/L/N’s dirty looks made her feel shameful, and even dirtier when a letter addressed to her was dropped by a pretty owl you insisted on petting. It was from a school called Hogwarts, in the faraway land of London, and it seemed, not only you but Eva got the same letter the next day.

Though the Y/L/N’s and Burke’s were proud of Eva’s letter. They weren’t with yours.

— — — —

The ride to Hogwarts was interesting to say the least. You had so many questions unanswered, were you a fairy godmother too? Was that your destiny? Was that the reason you never got any attention, because you were destined to give instead of receive?

Eva was cheerful as always, making fast friends in newly bought uniforms and holding a pretty, long and thin wand, with designs flowing across the premise. Your wand was...functional. You were sad you couldn't choose, and that the wand chose the owner. It didn't make sense, what if you didn't want this wand? What if you wanted something charming like Eva’s? It should have been mutual.

It was while trying to find your way to the bathroom that you met the Weasley twins. Quite handsome, a year older and absolute fucktards. A word you learned from the two. Though you always found yourself laughing more at Fred’s jokes, you liked them both equally.

“Hey George! Look.” Fred had exclaimed, clinging onto his brothers shoulder and dragging him across. “Who's that girl?”

You introduced yourself, happy façade on, gentle words slipping out of your mouth like nectar. They had to like you, you told yourself. Just this once, more than Eva.

When sorted into Gryffindor, Eva, you and the twins became inseparable. Your group grew in second year, when Katie, Lee and Alicia Spinnet joined the bunch. You would make fun of the ghastly Potions Professor Snape, and imitate Dumbledore in the hallways to mess with the older students.

You loved your time at Hogwarts, and the adventures that came every year. Especially when Harry Potter joined.

“Hey Fred.”

Fred, who was fiddling with his bracelet you had bought him hummed in response, not bothering to look up.

You sighed, “Do you think the flowers can feel it when we pluck them?”

Fred turned at that, his bracelet was now tightly secure after his struggles. “I hope not.” he smiled, a faraway look on his face whenever he gazed at you. “You know, some people like pain.” he winked.

You merely looked at him confused, clearly way too young for...whatever that is.

He started laughing loudly, slapping his knee and causing you to scoff and slap him on the shoulder.

Third year was when it bloomed. The slight girly attention you gave Fred grew. Fred was...Fred. A handsome ginger, beater for their house's Quidditch team, always charming and charismatic that somehow oozed out of him whenever he did anything really. It was not unusual, every girl in school had a crush on him. That wasn't the case, Fred was one of your best friends, and you refused to entertain the idea of a possible...relationship.

Yet sometimes, you'd find yourself thinking about hugging and kissing Fred like you’d seen couples in your favorite movies did and you’d fall asleep with reddened cheeks and a boy with even redder hair in your mind.

But feelings couldn’t be controlled, nor easily hidden. Eva found out in your fourth year after hearing you mumble his name in your dreams. Fred Weasley was getting more handsome as years passed, and you found it hard to contain your feelings. You were crushing, hard.

Eva was...Eva about it. Happy, but nothing changed. She didn't tease like George did when he found out, nor did she act any differently towards Fred.

“Hey ____!” Fred had sat next to you, shaking the entire couch because he grew that tall during summer. “Got a new girl after me.” he looked at you, almost expectantly, as if you wouldn’t react the way you always reacted.

“That’s great Fred.” you smiled, gulping whatever lump that was forming in your throat and struggling to come out as vulgar words you wished to yell.

“Yeah,” Fred sighed, “It’s...great.”

Fred Weasley was a ladies man, and he wasn't afraid to show it. It was okay, because you were happy enough to be one of his closest, and that was enough. He often boasted about getting girls, and how successful his jokes were, and you always loved snapping back to him cockily, even more cockily than him. Playful banter was easy, comforting between them and when he turned away you would love to shyly entertain the idea of being one of those girl’s Fred talked about.

Fifth year, you had a sudden growth spurt. That was also the year where you discovered Cosmopolitan, Vogue and of course Witch Weekly. Hair no longer in a ponytail, legs shaved and smooth, short skirts with no nylons, you were a new person. After getting your period in third year, your spurt came late, but sudden. Way too sudden in the time of three months. It was hard to handle the changes occurring to your body. It was all too much that you had to become a lady and the fact that you didn’t have your mother to help was a pain you hid deep within.

It was as if whichever god above decided to squeeze your entire life into a summer and call it a day, because it was simply too busy. How ironic. No one saw your growth except old Nanny Gladys. Not Eva, nor her parents considering they went on a getaway and the Burke's, who had gone to Brazil.

But you were over that, you discovered the great telephone, and the great Hermione Granger, package deal with Ginny Weasley. You guys would talk on the phone for hours upon hours, Ginny obscuring your personality and Hermione altering your view on your parents. And Hermione was right, they were assholes. You didn't give a flying fuck about empty praises anymore.

You had become almost too tall for your older clothes, and your breasts were way too big to fit in the training bra you bought not even a month ago. Your hips, now wide and swaying as you walk became graceful, were decorated with long gem bracelets.

You cursed like a sailor that summer, ran around fields with family - your family being your dog, Jambo - bare feet. You stomped on flowers you used to pick as a little girl, stomping on those silly fairytale dreams you used to nurse, and never felt freer. For the first time ever you felt that maybe being empty could be more freeing than having false hope weighing you down.

Returning to Hogwarts was a big deal to students. Who changed, who glowed up after what happened last year - nothing, it was all childish drama.

Before your parents could even see your new self, your escapade to the Granger household was successful. The Y/L/N's didn't care, nor did they write. You knew it should’ve hurt, but frankly, you didn’t think having the pain in your chest was worth it. Hermione was awestruck, of course, after laying her sights on you for the first time since May and insisted on walking into the Entrance Hall, arm in arm with her and Ginny to show you off like some sort of revelation.

It was a revelation all right, at least to the boys, and some girls. It seemed no one saw you as a girl before. George oogled, and Lee was so shocked to find out that you were actually a girl with a pretty figure and an even prettier smile that he stopped clapping you on the back like he always did. Not a girl, you have become a woman. It was far too sudden, new uniforms and a whole new wardrobe had to be bought.

"____? You were a girl?" Fred joked, ruffling your hair like nothing changed between you. And that's when you realized, no slutty skirt, how much pushup your bra, or no matter how pretty your hair looked, Fred would always see you as ____, the girl with crooked front teeth and who once ate a worm in second year. Your teeth weren't crooked at all anymore - thanks to a few years of braces - and finally clear of uncomfortable metals but you felt as if Fred would always see the ghost of them on your pearly whites when you smiled.

He had this view of you that blinded him, caused him to treat you as he treated Ginny while he flirted and played footsie with other girls, including Eva.

That did not stop Eva from giving you false hope, and you took the bait, naive like always. Hope, that's what ruined it all. "You're beautiful now, of course you have a chance!" she said, rubbing your shoulder reassuringly, as if she had warmth to begin with.

It was all false, yet you still believed. You always had. Like a fool.

Ginny didn't like Eva, and maybe that's why you gravitated towards her. She was the first person who had ever met Eva that wasn't charmed by her kind smile and attractive words. Eva was...displeased. She grew up having the attention of everyone around, so when Ginny Weasley told her straight to her face that she wasn't shit, Eva seethed. The attention of Ginny changed nothing though, because Eva was the main character. Everyone - except Ginny, and secretly Hermione (though she would never say it) - loved her, they followed her around like puppies and praised her on her wonky wand work.

The upcoming Yule Ball brought great upswing to Hogwarts.

You were far too busy with her classes to take interest in the tournament - even though the dragon race was the gnarliest sight you had ever seen. Your goal was set, become a badass Auror and move out as soon as possible, so you didn't have to face your parents (except Holidays, yuck.)

But the Yule Ball was your chance. A chance with Fred Weasley.

You could ask to go as friends and maybe, just maybe a little hope and the night would end much more romantic than you had anticipated.

Plucking up courage was the hardest part, you practiced with your bathroom mirror so long that Ginny had to blast through the door and drag you out of her dormitory.

Fred Weasley agreed, why wouldn't he? You, his closest friend, asking to go as a group and drink all night while gossiping? It was a win win. At least that's what you told herself.

That was a lie, it wasn't a win win.

You gave it your all getting ready, dress silk, makeup and expensive shoes. You took a long shower, scrubbing and shaving yourself to a smooth gliding porcelain, only for it all to be washed down with reddened eyes and a boy with even redder hair.

Fred greeted you the same, danced the same, and you chatted the same; you were reminded again, for the second time, that you stood no chance.

Fred told you that he was going to get drinks, a quick trip to the booth and mumbled I'll be back in a second. He was not back in a second. Several minutes passed, and your worries caused your feet to follow after Fred's footsteps.

You ran, trying to find him in the empty corridors of Hogwarts, tears welling in your eyes because he wouldn't. He wasn't that cruel, life wasn't that cruel.

But it was, and in a distant empty classroom you saw Fred Weasley, on his knees and between Eva's legs, groaning and praising her like a starved man. Worshipping her like everyone else had, burying himself in her and completely forgetting the drink he’d bring back in just a second. He’d left you thirsty and alone in the Great Hall and left you to drink from a cup he hadn’t known to be forbidden. Yet Eva did.

Eva's perfect dainty hands tangled in his ginger hair, thighs clamping shut while her high pitched moans flooded your mind and echoed around your head. They were so loud that she couldn’t even hear the loud echoes of your footsteps and the woeful cries that left your lips as you ran. It wouldn’t be the first time she had ignored your pain for her own selfish reasons.

Your heart shattered, and suddenly you were six again, watching your parents praise Eva, hang her drawing on the fridge. A soft breeze tickling your bare toes, dangling from the small cushioned seat you sat on while you watched Eva braid Mrs Y/L/N’s hair. Emotionless, silent, not asking for anything, knowing that you won't receive in return. Eva's small hands carefully placed the flower crown on Mrs Y/L/N’s pool of hair, and she smiled, heart warming and hopeful. Suddenly you remembered the feel of your own hands tangling in between your locks as you stood on your tiptoes, trying to imitate your mothers braid on yourself in the mirror you couldn't reach. You pretended, only for a moment before it twisted into knots.

What a cruel joke, you thought as you watched Eva receive the world from Fred, from your parents, from your friends and from every damn person you had met.

You cried on a big set of stairs that night, your wails echoing as you asked whoever, whatever what you had done. What you had done to deserve such treatment from the people around you. It was rather cliche - and maybe a bit too dramatic. It was an uncomfortable seat of course, and your body, as well as your heart, ached. Pain, misery, false hope and enough hair spray to melt the ozone.

The princesses always cried on big sets of stairs, uncomfortable stone floors causing them to shiver while they hid away their beautifully animated faces in their perfect hands. This was different, there was no fairy godmother to fix your makeup and clone a gentlemanly Fred Weasley, a perfect prince. You knew, because you cried, and prayed and cried and prayed until your throat was sore. There was no fairy godmother, it was all a lie. There was no happy ending. There would be none.

No one came to find you that night either, and you had to drag yourself back to the Gryffindor common room, feet bare, mascara, blush - anything else you put on in hopes of being able to become like Eva even only for one night - practically nonexistent from the way your tears washed them away.

You didn't sleep that night, and your head was unusually clear, pounding, but clear. You laid awake, eyes blood-shot and stinging while your dress shuffled uncomfortably between your sheets. You were too tired to change, and your dress was far too pretty to be worn so short.

Ginny's words replayed over and over again. "They're not worth it." her voice was so clear, and true. Mr and Mrs Burke weren't worth it. Your parents weren't worth it. Fred Weasley wasn't worth it. Eva wasn't worth it. The midnight chirping of bugs invited themselves in from your open window, and blue moonlight streaks beaming down in lines from the tulle curtain flowed with breeze, it was calming.

You felt calm, for the first time in sixteen years. You felt calm.

Fred and Eva started dating that week. Everyone acted like they expected it, and you realized just how blind you had been. Eva Burke and Fred Weasley, golden couple of Hogwarts.

You watched them, emotionless, as they embraced with love and so much passion that you felt embarrassed. Embarrassed at how you’d blushed and squeal over Fred in front of Eva and George and anyone who had found out because now you knew. Now you knew that their amused smiles were probably pitying grimaces because they knew that you two were never meant to be. It was always Fred and Eva.

Fred was an amazing boyfriend, making sure Eva was taken care of, lovingly staring at her whenever and wherever, arm looped around her waist at all times; you realized they were truly not worth it.

"You disgust me."

You didn't mean the words to escape so carelessly, but when you said them, you realized you didn't want to take them back. The growing pit in your stomach felt weightless. "Excuse me?" said Fred, stopping his nibbling on Eva's neck, who was just as shocked. You scoffed, Eva already had enough purple bruises to parade around so why did Fred have the need to add more?

"You heard me right," George, Lee, Ron, Harry, Katie and whoever sitting in their circle stared at you, wide-eyed, Ginny and Hermione, however, were grinning devilishly. Kind ____, wouldn't hurt a fly, quiet at times and didn't know how to stand up for herself. It was shocking, but you were done pretending. You didn't want to be like that anymore, you wanted to say whatever came to mind and not worry about the consequences. "You guys disgust me, I know I should be supportive but you don't match, at all."

You turned to George. "And you, no you can't talk about Katie like that." George went pink. "You're disgusting for sleeping around carelessly and telling girls you'd write, stop giving people false hope. Grow up. You’re nearly an adult and you can’t even treat a girl right."

"And you Lee," Lee went quiet. "What gives you the right to make fun of me like that. I'll wear whatever the fuck I want, just because you don't have the courage to wear a headband. If you can talk about my breasts, I'll talk about your shrimp."

"Ron, you take advantage of Hermione then lead her on. Open your eyes, asshole."

"Harry, you're not the main character. You're not always going to be the center of attention, nor do you have the right to yell at your friends."

"Alicia, god you're so stupid. I'm sorry, you're great but such an airhead. No, you can't ride a Thestral if you can't see them, and stop eating quill ink they're bad for you."

You stood up, grinning proudly, heart loud in your chest you feared someone might hear. "Frankly, I don't wanna be friends anymore. I'm done with this façade, except you two, 'Gin, Hermione. The rest of you are just so fake." she gestured to them. "Boys," she nodded again. "Don't talk to me anymore, and Lee, give me back the money, think it's about time don't you think? I've been paying for you since third year."

And with that, you left. You left Three Broomsticks, grin wide and chest heaving. Hermione and Ginny ran behind, whooping and cheering you on as they laughed.

The news of your outburst spread fast like wildfire caught in wind. That week was bliss, you no longer had to watch Fred and Eva, nor did you have to act sweet to anyone. You didn't have to laugh along Lee's sexist jokes and look away to wince, it was pure bliss. You realized that the feeling of being free didn’t have to be momentary.

Pansy Parkinson was surprisingly a good friend, she didn't have the same fakeness to her, the one Eva had where her smile was too kind. She spoke her mind, though every Slytherin did, and you liked that. Ginny wasn't happy with your new found friends, but she couldn't separate you. You made your own decisions from now on. It was refreshing.

You told your new friends everything, eager to get it off your chest and breathe, and they listened. For the first time, someone listened. You didn't have to get good grades, nor did you have to act like a sweet angel.

You teared up the first time Pansy said; "It's not your fault,". You knew it wasn't your fault, but hearing someone else say it with such genuine eyes made you believe. Actually believe.

It started off with you watching from the sidelines as Draco and Blaise pranked, insulted and shamed whatever your old friend group did. It wasn't unusual for Draco to act this way, but he got especially irritated after hearing what you told them. Blaise, someone usually quiet, had stepped up and decided to somehow release the pent up anger he had for the Gryffindor students.

The year ended, and you had started to sneak in an insult or two towards Fred and Eva. It felt nice, like finally, step by step you were clearing your years of hidden jealousy. But, there was no one to tell you that this simply wasn't the right way.

That summer, you stayed at the Burrow. Ginny had invited you and you were quick to say yes; obviously a fact forgotten. Fred, George and whoever you had insulted last year stayed in the same house. You simply didn't want to go home, and if this meant seeing Fred Weasley then you had to endure it.

Molly Weasley was the sweetest person you could ever meet, and it was genuine. It felt genuine, you feared your teeth might rot if the woman got another word in. Molly greeted you as if you were her own daughter she hadn't seen in years. You felt valued, seen.

Until Eva was there, Fred invited her. You had to watch the only person you were able to love, introduce the only person he was able to love to his mother. It wasn't you. It would never be you.

And you realized, even after everything, Eva had once again found a way to be more loved than you.

The grin Molly broke out was nothing short of beautiful, and you couldn't help but smile as well. The smile wasn't directed towards you of course, and you sat on that small kitchen chair, celebrating a relationship that caused your ruin.

Eva didn't care that your friendship was over, nothing budged in her life. She still got the same attention, still received the same love from Fred. The same affection, the same attention and the same everything. Or so it seemed.

Though unlike Eva, Fred merely watched you with sad eyes.

You stayed clear of the couple and the rest. You hung out with Ginny and Hermione only, ignoring the dirty looks Ron and Harry gave you. The secret, whispered insults Eva threw your way. George didn't say anything, but he didn't object either. This was enough to show how he felt. At this point you really didn't care. Why would you, when they didn’t either?

You held your head high just like Ginny and Hermione told you to, and you spoke in a loud and clear tone whenever asked something. Eva didn't, she stuttered when you spoke to her directly. Her words scrambled against each other when she tried to voice her insults in louder statements than a whisper. For the first time, you felt relief. You felt intimidating, protected by the barriers you had built around yourself.

Longest day of summer hit, and it boiled. Tanning became a distant dream, you would bake in this weather, and you were thankful to the big AC box you had brought from home. You couldn't sleep that night, sweat beads falling down your forehead that was already covered in a thin sheen. You had decided to get a cold glass of water, not sure how you ended up face to face with Fred Weasley. His wand tip shone with blue light, and his freckles were much darker because of the sun. It seemed the sun decided to be cruel to Fred Weasley back and wash Fred over with it's deathly heat. He was sunburnt, this was an understatement. He was burnt.

You couldn't help but start laughing when you met, ignoring the proximity, ignoring the sleeping house, dead silent and a big leap from the lively Burrow, ignoring Fred's soft breaths he let out every other second. You couldn't live off on false hope anymore.

Suddenly it wasn't so funny anymore, and your face quickly fell. You took a big step back and inhaled, ready to ignore him like you had been doing for the past year. But Fred Weasley was a persistent man, and he gripped your arm and looked at you with determined, doe-like eyes. "Tell me what I did wrong." he said, adamant on fixing this, whatever this was. You both didn't know.

You stood silent.

"Please flower,"

"Don't call me that." you said, stern and gaze sharp. Fred didn't react, he kept on insisting.

"Please, tell me how to fix this. I can fix it," he pleaded, a plethora of empty promises fell out of his lips like nothing. He lied like it was nothing, he was oblivious to everything he and everyone around them had put you through. It was infuriating.

You didn't say anything. You knew he would not fix anything but maybe staying silent would give him the false hope that spinned mockingly in your head for the past eighteen years.

"I'm sorry, just please. I can fix this, I promise, don't be like that." empty tears fell down from his eyes. He looked empty, tired. They lacked the charm they usually shined with and you wondered if it was only you that caused such dullness. Eye bags prominent that you never noticed before. It all felt like a lie, a cruel joke.

Fred Weasley was simply a cruel joke. His presence could only be compared to a shot of whiskey, especially when you down it like how Hagrid nurses a Firewhiskey filled pint glass. You never know how it will hit you. But in the end, you'd always find yourself curled next to the toilet, crying your eyes out because your headache was simply too much.

He was sobbing now, hanging onto your waist like you would simply vanish and you let him. The grip he had on was like steel vice - almost concerning - but you didn't touch him, didn't say anything. You just let him be, like he did to you. Allowed him to hopelessly hang off you before you would eventually leave him alone, like he did to you. "Where did I go wrong? How could we end up like this? What went wrong?"

‘You’, but your voice couldn’t be found.

Questions were useless when the answer was already right in front of his eyes. You didn’t let a single tear fall, you wouldn't forgive yourself if you cried in front of him.

You blinked, and that night was over. Summer continued on like nothing happened, like it didn't leave you heart broken and in such shame yet again. You continued on ignoring Fred as he looked at you with sorrowful eyes. Looked at you more, with more than he did his own girlfriend.

You blinked and the school year started again with another terror looming around the corner. There was simply no need to keep up anymore, because school was easy. You attended classes, got good grades, a few scar here and there from Umbridge's torture chamber, a woman who stood at a whopping five foot three yet still teriffied an entire school.

You blinked and you had already become a proud member of Draco's insult the Gryffindor's club. You didn't even feel bad, being horrible to the people you hated for years felt like a breath of fresh air. You didn't go as far as physically hurting any of your old friends, but coming up with damaging insults was such fun. A lot more fun than sitting around with a fake smile.

You blinked, and you were already moving out from your childhood house. Mr and Mrs Y/L/N were unusually happy, this was a given. They would have a new empty room and make another office, like they didn't have enough already. You feared they would start getting rid of bathrooms once too into their work, and they would have to do their business in bushes or buckets. Scratch that, you didn't fear that, it would be fucking hilarious.

You blinked, and when had time passed too quickly? Where did all those empty childhood years had gone? You were already graduating, on your way to become an Auror. You had lost contact with all your old friends now, regretfully Ginny and Hermione too.

The war had hit too quickly, luckily you survived, so did your friends. Unluckily, it left you with a nasty scar right across your left brow. It looked sick, but the hit wasn't worth it. It hurt like a bitch. You could see, it was a close call but vision wasn't an issue. The trauma though, god did Bellatrix's breath smell bad.

When it was all over, you had seen Fred hugging his family tightly. It seemed the Weasley's all survived, and you gave them each tight lipped smiles while holding a bunched up rag to your head to stop the blood gushing out. This wasn't the reunion you wanted to have with Ginny, but hey, you take what you can get after a revolutionary Wizarding war you barely made out alive.

Before a franticly running Fred could reach you though, you apparated to your flat in Diagon Alley, ignoring the thrumming of your heart, and how you practiced in front of a mirror to congratulate their successful joke shop that morning.

[luimagines]

Coul I request the chain reacting to meeting the reader who is Wild's sibling? (If background is needed shrieks science and them whatever purchase did so the reader is just sorta- 15-28 )

Masterlist

I don't understand the second sentence but I think I can infer what you're trying to say. And even then, I came up with a backstory that more less fixes it regardless so yay!

Wild is everyone's favorite chaotic creative sibling!

And I went for older sibling because reasons and just assume that sibling! Reader is in their early twenties.

Content under the cut!

You woke up one day in Hateno village, quietly aware of the silence that echoed through your house.

You miss your brother.

Not that he was here often with his Goddess given assignment nor did he even know who you were for the first half of it.

What a day that was.

Your little brother back from the dead, scars and all and then some... but he had no idea who you were.

It hurt to say the least. But you were told it would happen once the news reached you. He would wake up one day to finish his duty but he would not remember anything regarding his past life.

Even when he found you again, after he somehow remembered you, you didn’t know where to begin.

You just knew that you were so happy to be together again after so long that you hugged him as tight as you could and told him that your door was always open.

To say you both cried is the understatement of the century. It was wet and ugly and messy and neither of you really talk about it but it felt good that day.

And while you both knew he couldn’t stay for long with his adventure being no where near complete. He did come home for the night after he set that travel medallion of his by the front door.

But that was then- before the Calamity was defeated.

Now that it’s gone- so is your brother. Again.

On a different quest this time, it seems.

You don’t understand why your baby brother of all people has to be the one to do it and you would like nothing more than to wrap him up in a blanket and shield him from anything else that comes to hurt him- but he never let you do that as a child- let alone now.

You begin the day like any other and try to get as many mundane chores done as you can before you finally try and get the stable in the back fixed up.

You noticed Link had an affinity to horses and had checked in with the nearest stable to see that he had some lodged under his name.

There’s a place at the house, darn it. Lodge them here. It just needs to be fixed.

With your goal in mind, you lose yourself to the work and the time passes effortlessly.

It’s around noon by the time you hear it.

The familiar sound of activation that gets your heart pounding in relief and unbridled joy.

You drop your hammer and run to the front of the house with the largest grin on your face. “You’re back, you Rug Rat! Come here!”

You single him out instantly amongst the group and tackle him in a hug.

He’s long stopped trying to fight on you on this and has also returned your crushing hug with one of his own. “I’m back.”

“You brought friends too.” You grin and give the group a two fingered salute. “And here I was afraid that this loner child would end up dead in a ditch somewhere and I would be none the wiser. Thank you for looking after my little brother. I’m aware he’s a handful.”

“Ok thanks.” He says.

“Little brother?” Someone from the group asks. They’re lost amongst the sea of head but you nod regardless.

“Yup. I remember the day he was born like it was yesterday.” You grin and put your hands on your hips, introducing yourself right after. “Any friend of Link’s is a friend of the family. Come in, come in. Make yourselves at home. It’s not much but it’s ours. Been in the family since before the calamity struck. Let me wash up a bit and then we can get some food going, yeah?”

“I’ll start up the stove.” Link says and you’re about to disagree. After all, he just got home and should rest while he can but he ahs the most unburdened smile on his face that you can’t bring yourself to deny him.

 “Alright.” You sigh and head to the back where the shower is. It’s always been small and a bit cramped and the door stopped fitting correctly about ten years ago but now that’s it’s not just you anymore, you can go around into the giving the house the TLC it deserves.

But you’re starting with the stable in the back.

When you’re finished and you’ve dried yourself off, you get into the house to find it in a delightful array of colors and chaos.

Each of the boys seemed to have made themselves completely at home in the time you were gone and you leaned against the door frame, watching them all interreact.

Your brother didn’t waste any time with getting the stove up and running. You can smell the beginning of lunch getting cooked and it appears that Link has wrangled two of the boys to be his helpers. One appears to be the youngest with bright wide eyes and a similar blue tunic to that of Links and the other looks to be  slightly more timid in the process. He’s around the same height as Link but darker hair and a long white cape still clasped around his shoulders. 

You recognize the Master Sword strapped to his back.

Making a note of that you look around the room again. Three of them have made themselves comfortable at the table. One is easily the biggest guy of the group, red and blue tattoos on his face and scar over his eye as he watches the others go about the admittedly small house. The other two look to be the same size and you’re sure you can look them in the eye if you needed to. They’re talking to both each other and the group that’s cooking. One has a wolf pelt on his shoulder with more tattoos on his face and other is a knight if you’ve ever seen one with a bright blue scarf around his neck.

You’re not one to judge your brother’s friends but you make a mental note to watch him in case he tries anything.

Two of the boys- one with pink hair and the other have the most solid brown mane of the whole group have made themselves spares and are talking quietly to each other and not making a fuss.

The final one looks to be the smallest but he’s got an older glint to his eye that recognize well. He’s wearing arguably the most color tunic of the group with those four patches sewn together. He’s tucked himself away into a corner with a book out, not interacting with either of them outright but he has been looking up and adding his two cents to the older’s conversation at the table.

They don’t notice you’re back which is a testament to how tired they all must be.

They’re an interesting bunch.

But Link did always surround himself with interesting people.

So you’re not really surprised.

“Sooo...” Pinky starts off, calling your bother’s attention. “You have an older sibling?”

“Yup!” He answers, not looking up from the pot. “They were waiting for me the whole time, and even manage to keep the house. Up keep still needs to be done but we’ve been working on it together.”

“But they’re older.”

“Yes. We’ve established this.”

You have to hold back your snort.

“You were asleep for one hundred years.” Four Patches speaks up, closing his book silently. ”Shouldn’t they... ummm...”

“Be dead?”

“Or at least really old?” Mr. Brunette hops in, trying to lessen the blow of the sentence.

“You’re like one hundred and seven teen right? Wouldn’t that put them at being one hundred and twenty something?” Wolf boy offers.

“I guess so. Yeah. They were old at some point.” Link stops stirring and you can see him try to run the numbers in his head. “I know that much. The village talks about them being really old sometimes, but I guess that was years ago because it’s only from the older folk that live here.”

“But they lived through those one hundred years, didn’t they?” Blue Baby Face speaks this time.

“That’s what they told me.”

“So....” The knight tilts his head and tries to put his hands out as if that would help answer the question. “They’re like the Old Man then? Old in their head but young on the outside.”

“You can say that, yeah.” You say and take extreme satisfaction at the way most of the jump at your voice. “Unlike Link, I was alive the whole time he was asleep. I’ve got grandkids in Lurelin and they visit from time to time but someone had to at least keep the house up and running, might as well have been me.”

“I...” Link starts as he takes the food off the burner. “I never asked you how you stayed young, did I?”

“Nope.”

“Oh.” He looks away and deflates a little. Link looks a little disappointed with himself and that won’t stand in this house.

“I didn’t realize it was that important. And I’m going to assume you’ve explained most of the situation Rug Rat.” You laugh a little with a raised eyebrow. “You can blame Purah. You know she wanted to find a way to keep the old from aging, right? It’s why she’s in the body of a little kid again. But when she tried the second formula she realized that if she tried it on herself that it might as well but poof her back into a baby and she wanted to contact Robbie but he’s too far and too old to make that trip. I volunteered.”

“Really?”

“It still didn’t really work, I was transformed into a teenager instead of a child- a horrible time to exist really. But I suppose it was a blessing in disguise. By the time this one-” You step into the house fully and ruffle Link’s hair. “-came back, it left us with the same age gap as before. So in the end I can’t complain.”

“Why’d you volunteer?” Cape guy leans on the wall. “There’s only so many times you can test it, right? Who’s to say it wouldn’t have been worse?”

“Yeah, what if it did transform you into a baby again and you forgot everything?” Four Patches stands up and comes to stand by the table, putting his book on top of it. 

“I wanted to take the risk.” you shrug and pull your brother into a hug. “Is it a crime to want to see my baby brother again not matter the cost?”

“Get off.” He whines.

You laugh but do as he asks. “It was never said when he’d be back. Only that he would. I was willing to buy as much time as needed to be there for him.”

“I didn’t remember you...” He mutters to himself.

“You now, don’t you?” You punch him gently. “We’ve talked about this. It’s ok. I knew it was going to happen. It wasn’t going to stop me. Ganon himself couldn’t properly get rid of me. I’m not leaving your side anytime soon.”

He smiles and turns to hug you.

“Now where’s your wolf friend?” You ask. “Are you still traveling together? There’s something I wanted to give him.”

Wolf Pelt shimmies in his seat for a second but you don’t think much of it.

Link shakes his head. “Not right now but he has been coming by every now and then.”

“Well it’s good he’s still around to look after you then in my stead.”

“We have a horse though.” Link tilts his head up to grin at you. “It’s not the same but her name is Epona.”

Familiarity stabs you in the heart and you know it’s something that Link even remember even if he lives another one hundred years.

He was too little when she passed.

“...Like dad’s old horse. Can I see her?” You say with a light constriction in your throat. “How crazy would it be if they looked alike?”

“Dad had a horse?”

“You wouldn’t remember her, you were too little. I barely remember her as it is but yes, he did.” You take a step back and motion back towards the door. “Maybe after lunch you show me. We can bring her to the back and measure up how the stable is. I’ve been fixing it up.”

“Really!?” Link blinks, an excited glint appearing in his eyes.

“Yes. That’s what I was doing when you first came in. But let’s eat first.” You put your hand to the small of his back and push him gently in the direction of the table. “And then you can tell me about your friends and this new adventure of yours.”

[ptergwen]

on the dot

warnings: swearing, suggestive jokes, and the boys being a lil goofy

summary: the boys keep you entertained when tom is running late

a/n: this nasty stinky year ends today! finally y’all!! it sucked sm and a lot of stuff went wrong but i’ve enjoyed spending time with you lovely people, seriously you’ve all been such a light and i hope we bring it into 2021 :,) i love all of you tons, stay safe tonight and have fun <3

-

ten.

“he’s still not here?” you storm back into the room, looking between all the boys. “where the hell could he be?” harry only sips his drink. harrison stares up at the ceiling. sam offers a sad smile.

you thought by the time you finished your private freak out in the bathroom, tom would be home. home and ready for you to kiss and hug and welcome the new year with. he has ten more minutes to make it happen.

of course, you were disappointed he couldn’t be here for christmas. you still understood because it wasn’t his fault. there was scheduling and a whole bunch of other things keeping him in the states. you’d at least have new year’s eve together, and that was enough for you.

the universe had other plans. tom’s flight got delayed to the latest possible second, and it’s beyond either of your control now.

nine.

harrison puts a hand on your arm. “maybe he’s in the taxi. traffic and all that,” he leads you over to the couch, giving you a nudge to sit down. you do with crossed arms and pouted lips. “cheer up.” harry beams and sticks a party hat on your head. you’re not even bothering to strap it on. sam scoots closer to you in his spot.

“you have us,” he reminds you, smiling to get the message across. it’s nice of them to try and comfort you, but all you really want is tom. he’s the holland you’d rather be touching knees with. “thanks, guys. i just...” you let out a sigh. “tom was supposed to be my new year’s kiss.”

“well, we can’t help you with that,” harrison snickers and takes a seat on the arm of the couch. harry puts down his beer with a cheeky look. “tessa might be available.” groaning, you drop your head onto his shoulder. “shut up, i know it’s cheesy. we talked about it, though.”

tom better get here soon and back that up.

eight.

“what if you did it over, um, facetime?” sam suggests, stifling a laugh right after. these boys just can’t be serious. “i’m not making out with my phone in front of you guys,” you scoff and adjust your party hat that’s falling. “you’d do it if we left the room, then?” harry questions, harrison raising his eyebrows at you.

you lift your head off of harry so you can shoot him a glare. “no, you know what i mean. leave me alone.” your voice shakes on the last part. you’re starting to feel emotional about all of this. you wanted one night with your boyfriend who hasn’t been home in months, that was all. why couldn’t you get it?

the boys all coo at you in unison. it’s sort of sarcastically, mostly sympathetically. harrison reaches over and puts an arm around your shoulders. “he’ll be here, y/n/n. there’s still about...” he checks his watch on his other hand. his eyes go wide.

“seven minutes until midnight.” “jesus,” harry mutters to himself, picking his beer back up.

seven.

you’re debating whether or not you should text tom. maybe call? you haven’t heard from him in hours, which isn’t very promising. the boys are making too much noise to talk to him, actually. they’ve taken to blowing into their noisemakers to distract you.

the loud humming that comes from harrison’s is ear piercing. that’s partially because he’s holding it directly up to your ear. sam is using a handheld one, and harry is raising his fist in the air while he finishes off his drink. you love their spirit. you’ve run out of your own.

“come on, year’s almost over,” harrison says in an overly happy way. “let’s at least celebrate that.” “i’ll toast,” harry salutes him with his empty bottle. “you’re pissed, harry,” sam laughs and grabs it from him. you throw your head back on the cushion. “can time move any slower?”

six.

“i give up. i’m spending new year’s alone,” you throw your hands up in defeat. harry rolls his eyes in mock offense. “hey, you’ve had great company.” “she doesn’t want to hear it, div,” sam reaches behind you and flicks his brother’s head. it earns a quiet “ouch.” you’d normally laugh at their antics, only you don’t have it in you.

you might be acting a little dramatic, but you have the right to. tom’s kisses are everything. that, and you miss the hell out of him. he misses you ten times more. you know it because he’s made sure to tell you every day.

“tom’s coming, y/n. does it really matter if it’s a few minutes late?” harrison asks with a pat on your shoulder. “hours,” you correct him bitterly. he removes his hand before you break it. you turn to sam, who clenches his teeth. “your brother has terrible timing.” “you’ve only just figured that out?”

five.

harrison and sam have you playing some three way game of patty cake when the doorknob starts to move. you immediately snap your head up. is that...

“santa?” harry murmurs in his drunken state. “wrong holiday,” sam tells him. “that’s passed.” harrison chuckles at the conversation. “we should cut him off before-“

the door quickly swings open, a breathless but grinning tom behind it. “guess who?” he drops his bags and opens up his arms. your face lights up the most it has in too long. you run straight over to him. the boys watch on, waiting to say hi until after you two get time together.

“oh my god, you made it!” you giggle out, tom lifting you up by your waist. he secures his arms tightly around you and squeezes. “how’d you actually get here on time?” your voice is muffled by your face pressed into his shoulder. “i’ll always be here for you, angel,” tom assures you, shutting the door with his foot.

he kisses the top of your head. you can feel his lips curve into another smile. “in every way.” you put your arms around his neck, clasping your hands together. “you don’t understand how much i missed you.” you’re returning the smile. “i swear.”

“i promise, i missed you so much more.” he carefully sets you down and keeps his arms around your waist. the two of you exchange a look that says all the i love you’s you don’t currently have the time or privacy to.

“oi, where’s our big hello?” harry calls from the couch.

four.

you’re all squished onto the couch now. tom is sitting in your spot with you in his lap. the others strongly protested it, whining about how you’d go at it or worse. you ignored their complaints and happily took your place on tom’s thigh. your back is to him, so he has his chin on your shoulder to sneak glances at you.

“does anyone have a resolution?” harrison asks the group of you, eyes landing on his best friend. “me?” tom checks, tracing a finger up and down your side. “to take more breaks.” you like that one. you let him know by leaning into him more. “mine’s to move out,” harry remarks. his oldest brother gives him a warning look.

“all jokes. you two are adorable,” he gives you a thumbs up, shaking around his noisemaker again. “this is what i’ve left you with?” tom mumbles to you, fully aware the others can hear. you shake your head. “they terrorized me, tom.” sam is the one to interject.

“that’s rubbish. i cooked every meal you wanted, we-“ “they terrorized me,” you repeat, playfully this time. tom taps under your chin with two fingers. “mhm, sounds like it.”

three.

“do you think tessa would still do a kiss?” harrison asks harry, who cackles when he sees tom’s face. he has to blink a few times to process what was said. you smooth your thumb over the crease in his forehead.

“what did i tell you? they’re weird.” “they’re deranged,” tom leans into your touch. “i won’t let them near her.”

“i feel so... single,” harrison explains with a fake sniffle. he eyes the two of you. that makes tom pull you closer. “stay away from my girls.”

two.

“the moment we’ve been waiting for,” you move so you’re facing tom. “is about to happen.” you also happen to be straddling him so it’s possible. if the boys have anything to say, you won’t be listening. “our new year’s kiss,” he grins, his hands dropping down to your hips. “very big moment.”

one.

tom tilts his head up to you, running his tongue over his lower lip. your party hat is strapped on now. you move in closer until your noses are touching.

“missed this face,” he rasps and nudges your nose with his. “well, here it is,” you bring a hand up to the side of his neck. the boys are huddled in a circle with their party gear, so you have the couch to yourselves. harrison is getting ready to pop a bottle of champagne.

your not so perfect night ended up being better than any of you could’ve expected.

harrison checks his watch and waves a hand at everyone. “twelve, eleven,” he counts you in. “ten, nine, eight,” you all join, you turning your head to look at the others. tom peeks his head out from behind you. “seven, six,” harry eagerly holds out glasses for drinks. “five, four, three,” sam raises up his noisemaker.

“two, one! happy new year!” the champagne sprays everywhere while you turn back to tom.

you erupt in a big smile before he’s pulling you in. he finally presses his lips to yours, your arms going around his neck. it’s easy and soft and you fall right into your usual rhythm. his lips part for you, letting you deepen the kiss.

tom’s eyes are squeezed shut in focus, on you and how you taste like the same lip balm from all those months ago. one of his hands rests on your back to support you. you break away for all of two seconds to take a breath. you’re giggling, and so is tom. you connect your lips again without warning, tom still laughing into it.

“i love you so much,” you pull away to tell him quietly. tom tugs on the top of your party hat with a playful smirk. “i love you, y/n/n. happy new year, babe.” he gives you one more peck on the lips. you’re feeling generous and decide to return it, your kiss lingering a bit.

harry summons you two before it turns into another make out.

“drinks! we have drinks,” he holds his up for emphasis. harrison already poured yours, sam taking a sip of his own while they chat. you climb off of tom and offer him a hand. he gladly takes it, interlocking your fingers and getting up. the two of you walk over to the table hand in hand.

“thanks, bro. happy new year,” tom gives harrison a quick one armed hug and takes his drink. harrison hands you yours after. “thank you,” you take it and flash him a small smile. “for everything.” “anytime,” he pulls you in for a proper hug, tom hugging the twins.

you do the same, then the five of you sit at the table to drink and talk. when they get into a conversation about golf, tom eventually breaks off. he squeezes your knee to get your attention, which you raise a curious eyebrow at. he nods toward the couch.

“we’ll finish that later.”

[deanwasalwaysbi]

I've gotta say, I find the concept of Bedlund trying to Ben-Hur Jensen absolutely hysterical. I'm just imagining Jensen getting a script and being like "Ben?? What's this? Is this gay? This seems gay????" and Ben just soothing him like a frightened horse.

Hahaha - Look it wouldn't be the first time. What is this verb we're working with? Okay. Strap in everyone. The Multi-Oscar-winning 1959 movie 'Ben Hur' had a bunch of gay subtext. The writer, the director, and the second lead actor all knew that Charlton Heston's character, Ben Hur, was gay. However, one person didn't find out until the 1990s: Charlton Heston. The consensus on set was "Don’t tell Charlton, because he’ll freak out." and when Heston found out in the ninties, freak out was exactly what he did. (x) [the movie may have gotten a reference from Misha back in season 6 (x)]

Whether this happened with Jensen on SPN depends on two things.

Was the character of Dean intentionally written as Bi and, if so, at what point did that become true?

Did anyone tell Jensen? Did he figure it out? if so, when?

I personally DO believe at this point, I really do, that Bedlund - Ben Hur'd Jensen. I think it was part of the writers room but not all of it, until it was. (Which RN I believe finally happened under Dabb.) I think Jensen wasn't in on it, until he was. So for me? I think he really was in the dark at one point. But at what point that changed? Probably only he can answer that question. and RN? He ain't talking.

In the meantime we can only look at things Jensen has said on the subject - Like this unbearably ambiguous GIF set from @nikadd. Was this tongue in cheek? Legitimate ignorance? You're killing me, Jensen. That cheeky lil smile, Jensen. Nvm - I'm going to kill you instead. It's for my own survival. No hard feelings right? You understand.

UH OH HERE COMES A CUT TO HIDE A LONG DERANGED POST...

We can look at the text for number 1 - and I do that uh - a lot - see the blog name #Dean Was Always Bi

For number 2 we can look over some points when we got clues from what Jensen thought was going on [regardless of whether they make sense based on his jacting or directorial choices I guess] and get left wondering whether at any point he felt pressured to lie for his career, for self protection, or to protect the narrative from the network: 

2010 - 'We're missing the gay angel' (x) (Season 5 gag reel) (x) “Sorry man, not what the show’s about.” Jared: One of the good and bads about playing the straight [non-comedic] character on the show… Jensen: What wait? I’ve been playing him so wrong

2012 / S8 - Trenchcoat - Jensen talking about how sometimes they change the lines because they're way too gay. Calls Cas a third brother

2012 - "What's Destiel?" Ben Edlund: That’s some weird shit. Jensen: Is this something that you created, Ben? Ben: You don’t want any part of that.

“Don’t ruin it for everyone now” “I still don’t know what the question was. I’m going to pretend I don’t know what the question was.”

2013 @ JIB, re Dean’s reaction to Aaron’s flirting in the season 8 episode Everybody Hates Hitler,  (x)

“And the scene wasn’t written to be that kind of - I mean - It was written to be awkward.  Ben Edlund wrote the - my favorite line in that scene was ‘carry on . citizen’ that was - I almost couldn’t say that with a straight face I was laughing so hard.  But it was - you know - it was comedy. It was a comedic moment in the show and fortunately Dean gets a lot of the comedic moments in the show and it was just, you know, Ben was poking fun at the fact that - you know, how can we make this very kind of manly, heterosexual guy uncomfortable - uh -you know, or  or have him back on his heels and throw him off his game a little bit.”

The thing is - Bedlund and Phil Sgriccia made very clear on the commentary track that THEY saw this scene as a 'romantic comedy kind of fluster' "This potential for love in all places."

Ben Edlund calling the writer’s room a boy’s club in 2013 (x)

Misha Collins telling Destiel fans they aren’t Crazy in 2013 after some executives said they were (x).

2014 Jensen says he was glad there wasn’t much Dean and Cas in season 9  - HA Hah HAH (x)

“I think the whole Cas and Dean thing has gotten out of hand”  “I don’t think there’s anything secret to their relationship even though a lot of people wish there was” REMINDER - that season we got the nightstands acknowledgement and “play him like a jilted lover” and the “he dumped me James” cut and -

I certainly know that Misha and I don’t play that. SIGH. they Ben Hur'd Jensen.

2014 - the fan fiction joke - 10.05

“I didn’t have a positive reaction, The first time in I think 200 scripts I went and sat down in the showrunners office and said, ‘What in god’s name are you doing?! Why? I need to understand why this is happening.’” “[Carver] gave very eloquent answers and did a great job of explaining why we were doing what we were doing, I guess I had been aware of this ‘fan fiction’ for a while and I felt like maybe if I ignored it, it would eventually go away. When I read it in the script that is what I do for a living and is my work—I’m very protective of these characters and the story and I think we have a right to be—I wasn’t angry. I just wanted to understand why and what was the message we were ultimately sending with this script and story. By the end of it, I felt good and it gave me all the confidence I needed. It was better than I could have ever hoped.”

But then there's Jensen in 2015 talking about all of Dean’s bromances. (x)  [gifs at the top] Could go either way - starting to figure it out? or No?

What had changed if anything? the entire Crowely season 10 story line?  This was July 2015 - the same day as the SDCC 2015 panel where Misha talked about Destiel   (x @ 13) Carver and Dabb were there - 

By this time Jensen and Misha were nominated for a teen choice award for best chemistry against various tv couples (and one ensemble cast, but the award nomination did NOT include Jared) .... Misha and Jensen would go on to WIN this award one month after the panel.

At the Panel Rob and Rich ask the question: “You two have branded yourselves as TV’s greatest team since, ... idk who.... Ernie and Bert so.”  [Misha says to Jensen & Jared, half not on the microphone: “I really didn’t expect them to throw us under the bus.”] “are we going to see that continue? Is the Castiel Dean relationship still aflutter and still growing as we move into season 11?”  Jeremy Carver: “Ish.” [mocking from panel ensues] “Yes. Of course. I mean Yeah. Absolutely. Yeah. There’s no doubt.”

Jensen Directs 11x03 and the choreo mimics Goodbye stranger (x)

2016 - Jensen: Dean could have a huntress, but you’d kill her.

Jan 2017 Con the infamous - no hedge - harsh - “Destiel doesn’t exist.” (x)

I would hope that if he knew he wouldn’t have been so harsh with it.  So by that point either he still didn’t know - OR - to him ‘Destiel’ was specifically about internet porn/sex and not like - the potential for feelings / a relationship.  It makes me think about something Misha had actually said, around 2013, “It’s called ‘Destiel’ and it’s about the romantic interludes between Dean and Castiel.” (x)

2017 - jib8 Jensen called Dean a lover of the ladies

May 2017 - After filming the end of season 12:

2018 - Misha confirms he and Jensen have talked about Destiel (x) - also 2018: The Bisexual Dean essay "? No." (Oh god was this really this recent?! I can't deal with this.)

Well. SOMETHING happened in 2019. cuz here it comes

2019 - "Dean has no taste, clearly." 2019 - 'So, tell us just a little bit about what you're most excited to tackle with your character this final season.' "Cas. Just like a full football form tackle."

Look at this face he gave Dean when Cas told him he loved him and tell me he wasn't playing into it here. You can't. (x)

[peachscribe]

peach’s summer book list

i had a lot of fun compiling the list of books i read during the 20-21 winter, so i decided i would do a summer one as well! i still have a lot of books i own but haven’t read, so im definitely not lacking in material

if you didn’t see my winter list, how my book list works is basically like this: i read a book that i own but have not previously read, write a short summary immediately after finishing the book, write down my thoughts on the book, and then provide a rating for the book. i also might include background info on why i read this particular book/feelings about the author, but that depends on the book. that’s how each entry works

without further ado, let’s get started!

1. Grasshopper Jungle by Andrew Smith

okay so i absolutely adore another book by andrew smith (written after grasshopper jungle) called the alex crow. it’s one of my favorite books of all time, so naturally i wanted to see if grasshopper jungle would make me feel similarly. just like the alex crow, grasshopper jungle’s plot is. so fucking weird. it stars austin szerba, a teenage polish kid who lives in ealing, iowa, and is often sexually confused regarding his girlfriend shann and his best friend robby. and in ealing, iowa, austin and robby accidentally and unknowingly unleash an unstoppable army of huge six-foot-tall praying mantis bugs that only want to do two things: fuck and eat. and i just have to say: andrew smith’s got an absolutely dynamo writing style. alex crow is similar, where it’s a book about kind of everything all at once, framed in a moment centering around teenage boys. it’s fantastic, and it’s more than a little gross, and i love it. this book made me feel so many things, and i thought austin was such an amazing narrator and main character to identify with. this book has it all: shitty teenage boy humor, fucked up science experiments, and poetic imagery that will make you want to cry. and explicit lgbt characters.

412/10 andrew smith what do you put in your water i just want to know

2. Burn by Patrick Ness

patrick ness has written a plethora of some of my favorite books (such as a monster calls, the chaos walking trilogy, and the rest of us just live here) so when i saw this one in the store i knew it would be a great one. burn is an alternate history fantasy that takes place in 1957 frome, washington, during the height of the cold war, and it begins with a girl named sarah and her father hiring a dragon to help out on their farm. but there’s not just dragons, farm living, and cold war tensions; there’s also a really shitty small town cop, a cult of dragon worshippers and their deadly teenage assassin, a pair of fbi agents, and a prophecy that sarah’s newly hired dragon claims she’s a part of. i think eoin colfer’s highfire was on my winter list, which also featured a story that included dragons and shitty cops, so when i first began burn i thought it was funny to have two books that had both things. you know, if you had a nickel etc etc. but that’s really where the similarities end because burn is entirely it’s own monster (dragon). burn is entirely invested in its world, and its fascinating. not only that, i had no clue where the book would take me next. there were so many surprises and amazing twists that honestly just blew me away. this book also includes beautifully written complicated discussions on family, race, and love - it features interracial and queer romances as the two most prominent romance plots which was such a nice surprise from a book i wasn’t expecting to have that kind of representation. this book is witty, fast-paced, and a very heartening read - i absolutely adored it.

9/10 dragons and becoming motivated by the power of love and friendship are so fucking cool

3. As Meat Loves Salt by Maria McCann

i hate this book! as meat loves salt is a historical fiction novel which takes place in seventeenth century england, which is going through a grisly civil war. the protagonist, jacob cullen, is a servant for a wealthy household and is engaged to another servant in the house. but due to certain events that are almost entirely jacob’s fault, he flees the house and is separated from his wife. from there, he joins the royal army and meets a kind soldier, ferris, and the two become fast friends. jacob and ferris’s relationship begins to bridge past friendly, and jacob struggles with his homoerotic feelings as well as the growing obsession and violence inside him. also, they try to start a colony. listen, i don’t know how to describe the book because so much happens, but it basically just follows jacob and all the terrible decisions he makes because he is, truly, a terrible person. ferris is kind and good, and jacob is scum of the earth. he sucks so bad. the entire time i was reading this book (which took absolutely so long), all i wanted was for jacob to just get his ass handed to him. i wanted to see him suffer. and it’s not like i just personally don’t like him - i believe the book purposefully depicts him as unsympathetic even though he is the narrator. i did enjoy the very in depth and accurate portrayal of what life would’ve been like in seventeenth century england, and i think it was interesting to read a character that is just the absolute worst person you’ve ever encountered and see him try and justify his actions, so if you enjoy that kind of thorough writing, then this book would be perfect for you. however, i did not see that bitch ass motherfucker jacob cullen suffer enough. i’d kill him with my bare hands.

2/10 diversity win! the worst man on earth is mlm!

4. This Savage Song by Victoria Schwab

i know ive had a friend tell me how great one of schwab’s other book series is, but truthfully i bought this book because the cover is sick as hell and it was on a table in the store that advertised for buy two get one free, i think. something like that. anyway, this savage song takes place in a future in which monsters, for whatever reason, suddenly became real and out for blood in a mysterious event nicknamed the phenomenon. august flynn is one of these monsters, but he takes no pride in that fact and only wants to feel human. kate harker is the daughter of a ruthless man and is trying her hardest to be ruthless, too, but deep down she knows it’s just an act. their city, verity, stands divided, and kate and august stand on either side - but when august is sent on a mission to befriend kate in the hopes of stopping an all out war, the lines begin to blur. this book rules. august and kate are such interesting and dynamic characters, and the narrative is familiar while still being capable of twisting the story around and taking the feet out from under you in really compelling ways. this savage song is part of the monsters of verity duology, and i can’t wait to dive into how the story continues and finishes.

11/10 sometimes you can judge a book by it’s cover

4a. Our Dark Duet by Victorian Schwab

this is the sequel and finale for this savage song and i’d figure i’d update everyone: fantastic ending, beautiful, showstopping, painful.

12/10 loved it and will definitely be keeping an eye out for schwab’s other books

5. White is for Witching by Helen Oyeyemi

oh boy. okay. white is for witching is about a house, and it is about the women who have lived inside of it. when her mother dies abroad, miranda silver begins to act strangely, and there’s nothing her father or her twin brother seem to be able to do about it. she develops an eating disorder and begins to hear voices in the silver family house, converted to a bed and breakfast by miranda’s dad; and she begins to lose herself in the house and the persistent presence of her family legacy. white is for witching switches perspective dizzingly and disorientingly between miranda, her twin eliot, miranda’s friend from school named ore, and the house itself. this story is a horror story as much as it as a tragedy as much as it is a romance as much as it is a bunch of other things. oyeyemi brings race, sexuality, nationality, and family into this story and forces you not to look away. this book is poetry.

(like i mentioned briefly, this book heavily deals with topics of race and closely follows miranda’s eating disorder. read responsibly, and take care of yourselves)

15/10 this book consumed me and i think i’ll have to read it another 10 more times to feel it properly

6. These Violent Delights by Chloe Gong

okay. okay. strap in for a ride. these violent delights is a romeo and juliet style story, taking place in glittering 1920’s shanghai. the city stands divided - not only between the foreign powers encroaching on chinese land, but also between the scarlet gang and the white flowers, who are at the height of a generations-long blood feud. juliette cai, heir to the scarlets, has recently returned from four years abroad and is determined to prove herself ruthless enough to lead. roma montagov, heir to the white flowers, is standing strenuously on his place as next in line due to a slip up four years prior and is desperate to keep hold of his title. and in the midst of juliette and roma’s burning history with each other threatening to combust, an unnatural monster lurks in the waters of shanghai, loosing a madness on scarlets and white flowers alike. this book has it all - scorned ex lovers, political intrigue, deadly monsters, and all set on a glamorous backdrop of the roaring twenties. i absolutely was enraptured by this book and the way it plays around the story of romeo and juliet so well that it easily became it’s own monster, but with the punches and embraces of something classically shakespearan. gong does just an absolutely breathtaking job of fitting this fantastical story amid the larger world of shanghai and the real life historical events that had shaken the city to its core. completely immersive and outstandingly heart racing.

17/10 i was chewing on my fingernails for the last thirty pages and will continue to do so until the sequel is released (our violent ends, 16 nov 21)

7. The Antiques by Kris D’Agostino

you ever heard of the american dysfunctional family story? this is most definitely that. at the same time george westfall’s cancer takes a turn for the worse, a hurricane hits the east coast, and suddenly all at once the issues of his health, the hurricane, and all three of his children’s achingly dysfunctional adult lives are crashing into each other. reunited by george’s death, the westfall siblings have to face their grief, each other, and the problems in their own lives they attempted to put on hold while planning their father’s memorial. this is a nice story about grief and loss and love and somehow finding the humor amidst it all.

(this book does include a depiction of an autistic child who does experience several pretty bad meltdowns due to ignorant people around him not understanding how to cater to his needs. im not an authority on what depictions are or are not harmful, but i do believe this depiction is ultimately loving and well-intended.)

7/10 it made me laugh and cry and was generally one of those books that somehow hit you close to home

8. Fierce Fairytales by Nikita Gill

fierce fairytales is a poetry anthology that reimagines classic fairytales from a modern, feminist viewpoint, acknowledging that the line between hero and villain, monster and damsel, are not as clear cut as the classics try to make you believe. this book also includes illustrations done by the author herself, which i think is really cool. my personal favorite story reimagining was the story of peter pan and captain hook, called ‘boy lost’ which looked at how peter and hook’s relationship began and rotted. all in all, i think this collection of stories had a lot of important things to say and said them in frank, easy to understand poetry and prose.

7/10 beautiful message and pretty prose, but at times a little cliche

and that’s all from the summer! my fall semester starts tomorrow, and overall i feel very good about all the reading i did this summer. i even read four other books not on this list for work! so i definitely feel like i made the most out of my time, and im really glad i was able to read so many stories that made me feel a variety of different things

thanks so much for reading this list, and let me know if you read or have read any of these books and tell me what you think of them!

happy reading<3

[teenyweenynightghost]

Måneskin Group Chat- Chapter 6

(Ok so now that I fixed the emotional mess that I created I can return to what I do best: chaos and sarcasm<3)

Warnings: Language, photos but not explicit (honestly if you’re browsing THIS side of tumblr ya should be fine)

[Måneskin House] Fri 18:57

D: Why did I just hear Vic scream

T: What?

y/n: He just heard Vic scream

y/n: did you lose your eye sight?

T: Do you have any idea just how suspicious you're acting

Y/n: Oh don't be absurd, I'm just hanging at home with my two Angl-Nubian goats, my perfect and very much alive boyfriend and a dead body

D: A what now

y/n: MY B O Y F R I E N D

y/n: Do i really need to make appointments for you two at the doctor's office? You promised last time that you would do it yourselves

D: Fuck the doctor what do you mean A DEAD BODY

T: A STATEMENT SAID RIGHT AFTER VIC'S SCREAM

y/n: hey remember dami that time she started patting your head while you were sleeping so she could post it on insta

D: OH well then please resume your activities

Y/n: Hm and THomas darling

Y/n: Who loves waking you up by throwing the speaker in your room?

T: A dead body NOw i suppose

Y/n: Glad there are no complaints

V: IS THAT WHAT IT TAKES FOR HER TO WIN YOU OVER

V: YOU'RE ALL A BUNCH OF VIPERS

D: Yeah but Thomas is the Cobra:D

V: FUCK ALL OF YOU especially YOU Ethan

E: Don't drag me into this

V: no? NO?

D: What did he do

V: Well, let's see, while y/n had me strapped to a chair and looking through my phone laughing her ass off at my clear discomfort, HIS BITCH ASS JUST CAME IN THERE, brushed away her stupid damn hair like 'ewu cuccolina dO yOu WanT SomEthINg to DrInK" ?

V: COMPLETELY IGNORING ME

Y/n: Awww sweetie if you wanted attention you could just ask🙃

V: Oh i'll fucking show you attention

... [cue some time later]

Y/n: Y'all vic has been pretty damn quiet hasn't she

E: NO SHE HAS NOT

D: Oooo whats thAT about

E: Y/n I didn't know you took...pictures

Y/n: oh oho Oh Oh OH OH OH

T: can i not be woken up by screams anymore why in this dirty world did y/n just scream VICTORIAAa as if she was going to kill her

Y/N: OH MY GOD I CAN'T BELIEVE HER

[switch to DMs between VicDeAngelis and YN]

Y/n: Oh this is how you wanna play you little shit baby

V: Oh well sweetheart, he's your boyfriend- why would he not enjoy that🙃

Y/n: UGH you know you're the only one who's seen them!

V: Oh believe me, I know that puppy

Y/n: oh you're bringing the puppy thing back now huh

V: Well it always made you blush in the prettiest of places

[Switch to Dms between Edgar and YN]

E: IM SORRY I DIDN'T KNOW WHAT THEY WERE

y/n: Nah don't worry

y/n: However Vic on the other side has a LOT to worry about if you know what i mean ;)

E:... threesome?

Y/n: What? No-

Y/n: Oh hold up

E: Im down if you are

Y/n: I might just have an idea

[Switch to DMs between VicDeAngelis and Y/N]

y/n: hey vic, i was trying this new swimsuit on what do you think

V: something is definitely off but im not passing an opportunity of seeing anything ;)

Y/n:

V: you don’t look bad at all puppy;)

y/n: i agree- i also bought this shampoo set which is chocolate scented 

y/n: i literally smell like a dessert

V: i bet you taste like one too

Y/n: well, per ethan’s request, you’re more than welcome to join him in his discovery

V: i’ll be over in 10

... [an impressive amount of time later]

[Måneskin House]

T: which one of you motherfuckers ate all the whipping cream

V: y/n

Y/n: Me? Really? I didn’t even get to taste it

T: 😑

D: what do you me- OOOOOOHOHOHOOHOHOOHOHOH

D: HOOOOO LEEEEEEE FUUUUUUUUCKK

D: OMG  youu kinky little bastards

T: what WHAT

D: ETHAN + VIC + Y/N + WHIPPING CREAM

T: OH MY GOD

T: well fucking finally

Y/n: if one more word is uttered about this matter im deleting the group

E: five

T: five?

D: NO FUCKING WAY HOOOOO

T: OMG Y/N FIVE FUCKING TIMES?

Y/n: I will kill you all, individually, and i will do it so slowly you won’t know whether you’re alive or dead

D: kinky

Y/n: DAMIANO I SWEAR TO GOD

Y/N: fuck this im out- ethan go get me an ice pack

E: of course love

D: Damn even an ice pack

T: I never thought i would say this, but i have never been so happy to be so far away from the comfort of my home

E: Yeah two neighbours already came to complain

V: I had the pleasure of dealing with them

D: That thought alone sends shivers through my spine

V: It should

T: Anyway WHO WANTS PIZZA

Y/N: ME BITCH

T: you would think you wouldn’t be so hungry anymore

Y/n: you got the pizza or no man (spoken in a heavily italian accent)

T: hahaha making fun of our accents now huh

Y/n: nooo, me? im a good vagazza

T: OOO we ave imitating edgav now ave we

E: how about no

D: ok so how about someone actually goes and gets the pizza

T: i already ordered it

V: i love how we’re all in the same house yet we aren’t making any efforts of actually talking

y/n: talking is overrated

T: Pizza is hereee

(cue 5 people now transformed into monkeys running to be the first ones there, so that they may remove the little table from the centre of the pizza)

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I swear i didn’t mean to make it dirty, however my hormones are currently on a rollercoaster and that one comment i saw about doing an ethan x reader x vic thing just stayed in my head

Anyway, im gonna try and make a few more chapters today, please send me an ask if you want anything in particular to go down or if you want to be added to my tag list

until then, ciao dearies

@fuckim-so-gay​ @ginny-lily​

[comfortwriting]

Rough - G.W

SmutMasterlist, Posting Schedule, Requesting Rules, Writing Prompts

Kinky George x Fem Reader

Requested/About: The reader makes George jealous, which leads to a very interesting evening. 

Warnings: Degrading Kink, choking, anal, swearing, possessiveness, minor mention of alcohol.

You and George decided to go out to a muggle club for the evening, Fred gloated about going, so the two of you wanted to experience the muggle music and night life for yourselves - the two of you needed a date night, such a thing was long overdue.

At first, George was loving it, dancing to the music, enjoying the strange tasting alcohol that wasn’t anything like fire whiskey, and you were also having a brilliant time. George unexpectedly bumped into one of his old friends, inviting him as a third wheel on your date without asking you. 

George felt delighted and bloody chuffed that he was spending the evening with his girlfriend and an old friend, but within an hour he realised the mistake he had made, inviting his friend along. 

George noticed that his friend Andrew wasn’t as interested in catching up like he hoped, he was more interested in you: buying you drinks, being flirty, complimenting you, and practically undressing you with his eyes. 

Out on the dance floor George made sure he held you close to him, he knew how many creeps were in the room, his hand around your waist, protecting you like a seatbelt. 

Andrew nodded his head to the music next to George, he shot him a look and walked over in front of you with his hand out, asking you for a dance. You accepted, thinking your boyfriends mate was being funny, or just wanted a good time. 

Andrew spun you around and shot a smirk at George and mouthed “I’ve got your girl, mate!”

The three of you went upstairs in the club to the seating area, your feet a little sore from all the dancing in high heels. Sitting down on the two seater love seat and fumbling with the straps on your heels, Andrew pushed in front of George in a hurry and sat next to you.

George muttered a swear word under his breath and sat down on the dingy one seater, his eyes watching Andrew like a hawk.

“How long you been together then?” Andrew yelled over the loud and strange club music.

“Just over four years” you shouted back.

Still fumbling and struggling with the straps on your shoes, you bent over, your cleavage flashing. Andrew continued to stare, he bent forward in his seat. 

“Let me help, Y/N.” 

You lifted your bare leg up, Andrew getting an eyeful of your luscious skin and George getting an eyeful of another man drooling over you, he bunched his hands into fists. 

Andrew helped unfasten the straps and took your heels off for you despite you laughing and shaking your head saying “I can do that, Andrew.”

You placed your heels next to your feet and reached out for your drink, necking the rest of the cherry flavoured liquid down, your throat burning a little.

Andrew kept engaging in conversation with you and you didn’t mind, you were often quite oblivious when people made moves on you and you couldn’t tell Andrew was desperately trying to fuck his mates girlfriend. 

Andrew’s hand placed itself on your thigh and he leaned in, before you could react George had got out of his seat and grabbed his ‘friend’ by the back of his shirt. 

“Get your bloody hand off her!” George yelled at him, pushing him against the wall. 

You hurried over to George and pulled on his arm “George, let go of him, don’t get us kicked out!”

Andrew held his hands up in defence, suppressing a laugh, George let go of his shirt, turned around for a moment, only to swing for Andrew, punching him in the face. 

“Get your fucking shoes” George ordered you. 

Your face went as red as his hair, you grabbed your heels and ran after your boyfriend, the two of you finding an empty spot outside to apparate home. 

“Enjoy that did you?” George growled at you, appearing in the bedroom. 

You apparated next to the bed and dropped your heels next to the bed, you scoffed and took out your earrings “he would’ve got a mouthful from me if you didn’t grab him like that.” 

George rolled his eyes, his knuckles bruised “so it’s my fault for sorting him out yet when he’s making moves on you like nobody’s business it’s not a problem?”

Sighing, you walked into the bathroom, taking off your make up and brushing out your hair, George followed behind. 

“last time I checked” you started to wipe off your eyeliner “you were the one who invited him to join us, you never asked me, George.”

George hated it when you made him realise he was in the wrong, but it didn’t stop him from arguing with you and shifting the blame onto you. 

George stared at you through the mirror whilst taking off his shirt, your beautiful bare face radiating nothing but pure innocence and warmth; George got lost in your eyes for a moment before allowing his thoughts to sour the moment. 

‘He wanted to fuck her and she knew it, she loved the attention, she loved having a MAN touch her’ 

You stared at George and could see the jealousy all over his face, you laughed and shook your head, pulling your hair back behind your ears. You knew how this evening would turn out if you admitted to being wrong - there would be a massive argument, and George would be in a mood with you for a few days. 

You didn’t want that, George didn’t want the either, truthfully, the two of you just wanted to rip each others clothes off and have it out through angry sex and you both knew it. 

“what does it matter if another bloke wants to fuck me anyway?” you teased, taking off your bracelet.

George couldn’t take it anymore, the thought of that creep fucking you stained his mind. George closed in on you and pinned you against the wall, looking down on you. 

“I bet that's what you wanted, isn’t it?” he growled “you’re a fucking slut”

Looking up into George’s eyes you couldn’t felt but feel fluttering in your stomach and heat, you pursed your lips and licked them. 

“it’s not my fault you’re no good” you lied, smirking at you.

George’s eyes widened, he grabbed you by the hand and brought you into the bedroom, slamming the door behind him with his foot and shoving you onto the bed.

His hand grabbed your throat and his grip tightened around it “No good?” He glared “try and name one guy who can make you cum and stretch you out like I can”

You tried to speak but his grip on your throat was relentless, you couldn’t speak or breathe, you could hear your heartbeat in your ears and you could feel your pulse throbbing.

“That’s what I thought, you pathetic bitch” George growled at you, removing his hand from your throat, allowing you to breathe.

Gasping for air, the rush thundered down on you, making you go dizzy and feel tingly, you moved your hand down to your heat and tried to slip your fingers beneath your knickers.

George grabbed your hand and pulled it away from your pussy, he smirked at you “trying to touch yourself, are you? There will be none of that tonight, love.”

George lifted you up off your back and pushed you front facing onto the mattress, your face pressed against the cool bed sheet. His fingers attacked the zip on the back of your dress and pulled it down but this wasn’t good enough for him, George practically tore your dress off you, causing your breath to hitch in your throat.

George tossed your dress and pulled down your knickers, he lightly slapped your bare bum cheek, trailing his fingers up and down your back you let out a tiny moan, George smirked and grabbed you by the hair - pulling you back.

“Get up on your knees” George ordered you “now”

Doing as you were told, you scrambled on your knees, George still pulling on your hair, his eyes staring at your pussy and arse. He smirked and could feel himself getting harder in his pants, bunching up your hair in one hand, he took of his trousers and then his boxers with the other. 

“you going to stretch my pussy out or what?” you sighed, trying to frustrate him further.

George smirked, reaching for the lube on the bedside table “no” he said coolly “I’ll be stretching out your arsehole, you dirty little whore”

You felt your heart skip a beat and the butterflies whizzing around in your stomach, George let go of your hair and applied lube on his fingers, spreading the silky liquid on his cock and coating your arsehole.

You moaned at his touch and bite your lip, spreading your cheeks for him, George teasingly rubbed his cock between your cheeks.

“Tell me you want me this cock, you whore”

“I..I want your cock, George.”

George’s hand grabbed your throat, his other hand lining his cock up to your tight entrance, choking you, he pushed himself inside of you. His loud moan filling the room as you tightened around him, a choked moan almost escaped your lips.

“I’m going to fuck you in the ass” he growled “you filthy bitch”

George looked at your reflection through the mirror on the wall, your face going pink and your eyes tearing up. George released his grip from your throat, the blood rushing to your head with his slow thrusting inside of you felt amazing.

“George—“ you moaned out, watching him through the mirror.

George thrusted deeper inside of you and he started to fuck you faster, the feeling of him stretching you out with his length and you tightening around him made the two of you glad you didn’t have neighbors.

“Like that?” He grunted “knew you would you whore”

George let go of your hair, you slumped forward and buried your head in the pillow, moaning into it.

George slowly pulled out of you, making you whine. “Lie down on your back” he ordered “it’s all you’re good for”

You turned over and laid down on your back, before you could say or do anything, George grabbed your legs and pulled them, moving you down the bed. He rested your legs against his shoulders and he pulled the pillow from under your head, placing it underneath your lower back.

You stared into his lust and jealousy filled eyes and started to play with yourself “I can still feel his hand on my thigh” you smirked.

George instantly thrusted inside of you again, fucking you deeper and harder, his feelings taking over his performance. You continued to moan and touch yourself, watching George whilst he fucked you, the sight of him making you weak at the knees.

“Feels.. so fucking good” you moaned out, biting your lip.

George could feel his cock twitch inside of you, beads of sweat twinkling like stars in the dim light across his forehead and body. His moans helped you get closer to your orgasm, the two of you having the time of your life, feeling the benefits of switching things up from the usual ‘love making’.

George bent forward and kissed you on the lips before both of his hands wrapped around your throat, tightening his grip and choking you. Fucking you senseless, the sight of your face going red, your veins popping in your forehead and your eyes dazing made him feel like he could just burst inside of you at any moment. Your moans were trapped inside of you, your mouth opening only to stay in the ‘O’ shape, your eyebrows raised as you tried to fight against your boyfriends grip.

“Not yet, you’ll breathe when I cum, slut.” He grunted, feeling himself get closer.

Your legs started to shake against his shoulders and the heavy pit in your stomach dissipated, cum slowly flooding from your pussy. You pulled your hand away from your clit and grabbed George’s wrist, trying to pull his hand off you.

You didn’t need to call the safe word, and you knew trying to pull him off would only make George closer.

George couldn’t hold back anymore, your beautiful face, your gorgeous body, the feeling of your tight arsehole was too much for him to try and edge.

Releasing himself inside of you he released his hands from your throat, you gasped for air and you chased the final rush he had given you, the room spinning and the tingling spreading from your finger tips to the rest of your body.

Climbing down from your orgasms, George laid next to you, checking your neck for any marks and ensuring that you were okay and didn’t go too far.

Pulling you into his arms, he placed a soft kiss on your neck.

“I love you, y/n.” He murmured.

You smiled and held his hand “I love you too George, thanks for getting that creep away from me.”

[itsjustmyfantasyroom]

Beautiful Mumma part 7.

*Beautiful Mumma*

*Beautiful Mumma part 2*

*Beautiful Mumma part 3*

*Beautiful Mumma part 4*

*Beautiful Mumma part 5*

*Beautiful Mumma part 6*

Warnings: Talks of weddings, body positivity and Nick Smut.

WC: 1014

Enjoy x

When Nick saw you walking down the aisle in your tighter white silk, low back with straps crossed over at the back and thigh spilt dress, a bunch of flowers in one hand and Miguel in a miniature suit of his own, even with the white rose pinned to it in the other, tears came to his eyes and his heart swelled. You had always been close to Sonia and her partner Samuel, but when she asked you to be her maid of honor,  Nick asked to be the best man, Zara to be a bridesmaid, Gil to be a groomsmen and Miguel being the page boy you were both thrilled.

You worked hard to get into shape again, Nick encouraging you, but also reassuring you that you looked perfect the way you were, you felt amazing getting back into a routine and eating as clean as you could. Your parents where invited as well, both your families being close, they getting Zara and Gil bringing them out from LA with them to Miami. Your parents had left early with Miguel, telling you both to stay and have a good time, Zara and Gil catching up with Nick’s mum and some other family members they hadn’t see in a while.

From the moment Nick could touch you once you both walked back down the aisle after the ceremony, he couldn’t keep his hands off you. His warm big fingered hand running over the silk of your dress all over your body, his fingers brushing your exposed skin at the back. His pointer finger running under the strap and his lips meeting the skin of your shoulder when you both weren’t talking to anyone.

The hotel that everyone was staying in was next door to the reception, you and Nick paying for the bridal suite for them for the night as your gift to them. You wanted to do something special, so you had gotten different bits and pieces with “Just married” on it and fresh rose petals. You and Nick made the short walk over during the dancing, grabbing everything from reception and made your way upstairs.

As soon as the door closed on the lift and you pushed the button, Nick grabbed your hips, his eyes dark biting his bottom lip and pushing you against the lift wall, his lips kissing around your shoulder up to your neck and his leg pushed between yours, your arm hooking around his neck,

“Nick. No marks” you moaned out when you felt his thigh push up into your core.

The lift door dinged and they opened. Nick stepped back from you, grabbing your hand and pulling you up the hall way to the door. He quickly pulled out the room key, sliding it into the lock, waiting for a click and the door opened. Nick pulled you inside the door slamming it closed and taking the bag out of your hand throwing it on the floor.

Nick gripped your hips again, pushing you against the wall, his leg going between yours again and his lips landed on yours kissing you rough and deep. Nick started to move your hips over him, pushing his thigh up into you more, groaning into your mouth. Nick’s hands slid down to your thighs, gathering the silk of your dress in his hands pushing it straight up your body to below your breasts.

Nick’s hands ran down over your tummy, you broke the kiss and grabbed onto his hands, going to stop him. You saw the arousal in his face and your hands dropped down from his,

“Good girl. So beautiful” he muttered before kissing you deeply again.

One hand went up to his shoulder and your other slid down to cup him through his pants, giving his hardening cock a squeeze.  Nick moaned into your mouth. His hand sliding to your hip and his other going over yours making your hand move over him faster. Nick pulled back, his breath hot on your face. He stepped back from you slightly, zipping down his zipper and reaching into his boxers, pulling out his long hard cock through the zipper, giving himself a couple of pumps. He stepped back completely onto you grabbing your thigh, lifting it up to wrap around his waist, his other hand going down to your panties, moving them to the side, lining himself to you and thrusting in, in one go,

“Oh my god Nick” you moaned as he started to thrust into you in long hard thrusts.

“So sexy tonight baby, It’s been hard keeping my hands off you” he grunted out “I’ve been wanting to fuck you all night”

Nick’s lips came to your neck, his hand going between you legs and rubbing over your clit. Your head fell back on the wall and Nick kissed around to your wind pipe kissing over it and sucking there gently. Your leg around him tighten and your other one started to tremble, your hands gripping onto his arms. A loud moan and his name escaped you, your eyes squeezing shut tight as you came hard.

Nick’s lips left your neck, his forehead landing on your shoulder and his hands left you and planted flat on the wall, his hips moving fast into you. Nick stilled, a chock and a loud groan mixed with your name left him and you felt him come deep inside you. You kissed over the side of Nick’s face that you could reach before his hands left the wall grabbing your face and kissing you deeply.

The kiss was broken when Nick’s phone started to buzz in his pocket, Gil’s name on the screen,

“Hey son- yeah give us 10 minutes- ok, bye”

Nick put his phone away, peaked your lips and pulled away from you to both fix yourselves up,

“They are waiting for us so they can leave. Lets get back so I can get you to our room and take my time with you” Nick grinned zipping up his zipper and you giggled back.

“Can’t wait”

Tags: @beccabarba​ @lovebishoplosamiguelgalindo​ @alwaysachorusgirl​​ @ben-c-group-therapy​

[wing-ed-thing]

Senioritis: Table 4 (Hidan x Reader, Part II)

Synopsis: You were officially stuck with Hidan for the last semester of your senior year of high school. You’re determined to spend as little time with the obnoxious flirt as possible.

Word Count: 

Tags/Warnings: Language, Crude Humor, American!High School AU, Jock!Hidan, Nerd!Reader, Modern AU, BaseballPlayer!Hidan, Gender Neutral Reader (reader is referred to as a “bitch” so take that as you will), Derogatory Language, Kinda Jerk Obito @brokennerdalert​

Part I Part II Part III Part IV Part V Part VI

Notes: I was told that the pet name “babe” was used a lot on baseball teams. AIn’t that a coincidence? I ended up getting in touch with the guy who I’m basing Hidan off of for this story. Brings back memories

You never decided explicitly out loud, but Tuesdays appeared to be the day that Hidan decided that he would stay late for tutoring. You didn’t complain, it actually worked out well for you. While you didn’t necessarily like the fact that Hidan of all people had a hand in dictating your schedule, you felt content that he happened to pick one of your lighter days. But then again, you also saw him for senior seminar on that day and a day of double Hidan certainly couldn’t mean anything good.

“I gotta dip today,” Hidan said, standing a distance from the usual table that you set yourselves up at. He adjusted his bag on his shoulder, the shoulder of his uniform bunched up at the crux of his neck. Your school’s initials were displayed proudly across his left breast.

“You couldn’t have told me earlier?” You scowled up at him. You had a difficult time admitting it to yourself, but Hidan looked good in a baseball cap.

He simply shrugged.

“You never gave me your phone number,” he mused as he crossed his arms, “So really, I think that this sounds like a you problem.” You rolled your eyes.

“So you made me miss the bus for nothing…” you muttered and began to pack away all of your materials. You packed an extra binder today, too, just in preparation for this session.

“The fuck are you taking the bus for? Don’t you have a car? Like a fuckin’ adult?” You turned to him with a sharp inhale. Hidan’s grin grew wider, seeming to take pleasure in annoying you.

“My family car has been in and out of the shop. And even if it wasn’t, I’m usually not the one who needs it the most so when I have to stay after school for you, it means that I have to walk.” You heaved your backpack over your shoulder and gripped the pre-calculus binder in your hand. You pushed in your chair with your ankle. “This isn’t some kind of ploy to get me to give you my number, is it? Because I swear if I make it halfway home and Mr. Nara emails me asking why I’m not here—”

Hidan cut you off, making his way over to where you stood and leaning down smugly with a hand on his hip. Your mouth immediately closed.

“Now why would I want your number?” You grumbled to yourself, not liking how flustered Hidan’s closeness made you. You tried your best to brush off the heart palpitations.

“Don’t you have somewhere to be, Hidan?” He snickered as you maneuvered your way around him. You don’t know why he thought that you were funny. Perhaps you could chalk it up to a subtle form of making fun of you, but then again, Hidan had never been subtle.

“I do, but I don’t think Coach would mind very much. He’s used to me being late,” he bragged, following closely next to you.

You stopped at your locker. You didn’t use it often, but you wanted to unload at least a few things before you headed home. Hidan leaned up against the open door, watching as you piled in materials that he never bothered bringing to school in the first place. You were lost in thought, wondering to yourself if you really needed that second graphing calculator when your bookbag was swiftly snatched from your grip.

“Jeez, fuckin’ hell this thing weighs a fuckton! Did you really take shit out of this?” Hidan lifted the bag by the top strap, elevating it up and down as he gaped. You scowled, trying to snatch it back but he slung it over his shoulder along with his baseball gear and his own pack.

“Hidan—!”

“Let me drive you home.” You met his colored irises and his face held a strangely serious expression. He arched a slender eyebrow. “What? I’m serious. You are not carrying this for God knows how long, I’m gonna find you crumpled on the sidewalk. I swear I’m just trying to help you out.” Your posture deflated with your outward sigh as you mentally scrambled to find an excuse to turn him down. Truth was, spring had sprung and the weather grew hotter by the day. You took a sharp inhale.

“But—”

“Fuck, babe. You in a rush?—” You shook your head, slightly surprised by his sudden attitude. You assumed his annoyance, but a wide, proud grin broke out across his face. He motioned widely to his chest. — “Well then, stick with me until the end of practice. You can sit on the bleachers. I already know you have an umbrella because you’re a goddamned nerd.” He reached around and plucked it out of the side of your backpack: the slot usually meant for a second water bottle. “Do your homework or whatever the fuck you like to do in your spare time. Hell, my ass looks great in these pants. I don’t care if you stare, just—” A deep breath. — “believe it or not, I’m actually trying to give you a hand.”

You shooed him away from your locker door before slamming it.

“Fine! Fine. If you’re going to be so pushy about it.” Hidan turned on his heel, but you stood, staring at your locker still. He turned back to you.

“You want that second calculator, don’t you?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Well hurry up.”

***

The whole team had already done stretches by the time you made your way across the grounds with Hidan. You stopped at the gap in the chain link fence and Hidan shrugged your bookbag off of his shoulder. He looked down at you with a snarky smile.

“Think you can hold it?” he teased, offering it out to you in his fingers. You scoffed and moved to grab it, only for the weight to pull your body downwards when he finally let go. “Yeah, that’s what I thought…”

And with a ruffle of your hair, he was off. You glared at the back of his head as he ran into the field. Huffing, you moved to climb your way to the shady top of the bleachers. Yeah, he was going to hear about that one later.

“Obito, are you cheating on me?” Hidan’s usual partner had already found someone else to warm up with by the time he unpacked, but began to run up to the two anyway. The grass on the field still had lawnmower patterns in it. Clippings scattered across the ground. At least he was on time for warm ups. They usually took the most time anyway.

“Only because someone was late… again.” The Uchiha threw to him from a distance. Hidan reached up to catch it in his mitt, breaking into a light jog to join his friend. He threw the ball back to Obito.

“I am right here.” Shikamaru waved his arms over his head in Hidan’s peripheral vision. Obito snorted, pitching his direction.

“Don’t worry, we didn’t forget you, Babe,” he quipped with forehead crinkled, “And here I thought you didn’t even like warm ups.” Shikamaru threw back to Obito with enough force to make him recoil slightly.

“I don’t, I just don’t like being an afterthought.” Hidan and Obito chucked together. Hidan caught the old baseball in his mit.

“The only guy I’ve ever seen lay down in the outfield. I think you fuckin’ suck but I sure do feel that on a spiritual level.” Shikamaru caught the ball from Hidan with a scowl, but ultimately said nothing. His front leg lifted off the ground as he pitched the ball right back with force.

“So, uh, you got a cheerleader over there, eh, Hidan?” He glanced over to where Obito stared. You sat quietly to yourself, nose buried in something academic, no doubt. Hidan frowned, not completely ready to admit to himself that he felt sour at not having your attention.

“Ah, yeah,” he said, eyes lingering a bit too long on you before he resumed his warm up. He grinned. “Something like that. Everyone’s gotta have a number one fan, you know?”

“That’s funny,” Obito mused, “I don't remember there being cheerleaders in baseball.” Another lob back at Hidan. He hardly looked as he did, the motion had become second nature at that point. Hidan felt a tugging at his chest that he couldn’t quite place. He pursed his lips.

“That’s funny,” Hidan retorted as the ball hit his glove, “I didn’t think that there was crying in baseball either but here you are.” Obito’s easygoing expression immediately morphed into a pout.

“You try getting nailed in the face with a ball at thirty miles an hour.” His fingers glazed over the large bruise around his right eye. He tapped at it lightly, still recoiling from soreness.

“Maybe if you were actually good, you wouldn’t have fucked up your face from a practice throw.” Just for the witty retort, Hidan tossed the ball to Shikamaru.

The practice, generally, had never been fairly intensive. Sure, Hidan had to make up for his lost stretching and weight training at some point, but that came easily enough. For now, Hidan didn’t have to put too much thought into his casual throws. He was content to simply chat. All of them were.

“So you’re not gonna elaborate on your number one fan?” Obito still stood quite a distance away pouting over his injured face. He crossed his arms as the ball flew from Hidan to Shikamaru and back. “Always seemed like a little, stuck-up bitch to me. But I guess you have a thing for that, don’t you?” Obito hardly had time to whip his mit back out as the white ball lodged itself in the center. He looked up at Hidan, who said nothing, with a raised eyebrow. “Touché.”

“This is why you keep getting hit in the fucking head.”

“What? Are you trying to make Konan jealous, babe?” Obito continued to pry. The pitch to Hidan sailed at a visibly higher velocity. Hidan caught the ball with another frown. Although, his irritated look didn’t linger long.

“Nah, babe. I’m over that.”

One last throw. It flew so fast that Obito instinctually stepped back. Too proud of himself, Hidan didn’t notice your eyes peeking over the top of your book.

***

You had grown bored by the time Hidan had actually finished practice. You probably should have asked him ahead of time how long it usually went for. Leaning back on the bench behind you, you let your lower half sink into a folded position. Extra studying materials and homework leered at you from your open backpack. You zipped it up with a huff. You could do it later when your back hurt less than it did and when you were less distracted.

The sun had settled into a comfortable spot for you. The air around felt significantly cooler and you had since put away your umbrella. You checked the time. With all of your waiting, you could have walked home, but you still found that you appreciated the gesture. And even more so, you found more interest than you expected in Hidan’s baseball practice.

You were never truly one for sports. In your earlier years, you had dabbled here and there, but your time became more limited throughout the years. Between advanced classes, college prep, and your honor’s program, you didn’t remember the last time you played a sport outside of gym class. And for once, Hidan’s obnoxious personality appeared like it had a place. You couldn’t hear the team members chatting amongst each other, but you heard his boisterous fits of laughter every now and then. Something that often annoyed you in the classroom felt oddly endearing outdoors. It felt unusual, like watching a fish through the glass of an aquarium.

Hidan stood on the mound in the middle of the field. There was no hitter on home base, but a well-armored catcher crouched with an open mit. You hardly saw the ball but you certainly heard it hit the glove. Your eyes widened the slightest bit. Never had you truly seen Hidan care about something and excel in it.

Another pitch. WHAP! Another. WHAP!

You were completely enthralled and you didn’t even know it. You didn’t even snap out of your trance until the team began to visibly pack up. You swung your bag over your shoulder and hurried down the steps. Hidan met you on the grass at the bottom. His keys dangled playfully from his fingers. He gave them a spin across his knuckles.

“Ready to go?” You nodded and followed him out to the parking lot. He chattered along with a few of his friends and you ignored their small remarks containing baseball vocabulary that you could probably only decipher if you thought about it hard enough.

Hidan clicked a button on his key and the light flashed on his car. You stopped in your tracks, a hand slapping across your mouth. You almost burst out laughing on the spot.

Hidan had a mom car.

“You good?” he asked, throwing his equipment in the trunk before slamming it shut. You cleared your throat and shook your head.

“Eh, no. I thought I had, um, a test tomorrow and I realized that it was on Friday.” You didn’t know why you lied, but you pushed it to the back of your head as you piled into the passenger’s seat. As odd as it was to consider, the inside of Hidan’s car smelled like him. It hit you like a truck as soon as you opened the door. It wasn’t a bad scent and you could only describe it as undeniably boy and undeniably Hidan.

“You?” he questioned as the exhaust revved. “Forget a test day? Ain’t that the fifth sign of the apocalypse?” His comment made you smile. A goofy one too. You buckled your seatbelt and Hidan did not buckle his.

“Believe it or not, I’m not some sort of wonderchild robot.” You rolled your eyes and Hidan’s steel colored irises drifted to glance at you. The corners of your mouth were still slightly upturned as opposed to the usual annoyed expression that you wore when he was around. The corners of Hidan’s mouth turned upwards too.

“Okay, so I won’t believe it then.” He pulled out of the parking lot with a low ‘which way?’ so you pointed in the direction of your house. As the car grew more quiet, you struggled to find words to say.

“You, um… seemed like you were having a good time.” You averted your gaze, choosing to look out the window. The trees passed by quickly and you mentally followed the trail of powerlines.

“Yeah, I’ve been playing with those guys since we were little.” The silence officially took over the car. Hidan clicked his tongue. “There’s really a lot of downtime in baseball, so, uh, it’s really like getting to play catch with your friends all the time.” You let out a gentle hum as you leaned in your seat and crossed your left leg over your right. Not that you would notice anyway, but Hidan did not take time to admire the back curve of your thigh, although he was admittedly tempted. Playing catch with your friends. Cute.

Conversation flowed slowly between the two of you. You opted to take in the scenery, as mundane as it was. The radio played a few popular pop songs in the background. Hidan sat back in his seat, his arm resting at the bottom of the window as his forearm hung outside the car. He steered with one hand. Every so often, you’d give him directions.

“This okay?” he asked, head motioning to the open window.

“Mhm-hmph,” you nodded and soon enough he was pulling up to your house. You fiddled with a small slip of paper between your fingers. “Thank you… again, for the ride.”

“Yeah, sure.”

You pushed the door open with your foot, your fingers curled around the inner handle. Your other hand gripped the top of your backpack as you slid, one foot on the pavement and one still on the floor of Hidan’s car. You couldn’t look at him as you handed him the scrap of paper.

“Just for future reference…” you told him, now standing fully on the pavement. He glanced at the symbols written, to you, and then back at the paper as a devious smirk crossed his lips.

“Yeah, sure, Babe.” You dropped that little content expression that you didn’t realize that you were wearing. The door shut with a slam.

“It’s for business only. Don’t go annoying me in the middle of the night.”

And really, you shouldn’t have even put the idea in his head.

Surely enough, about an hour after you had settled into bed, you received a loud, incoming call. Half asleep, you shot up in bed. Scrambling around for your phone, you answered it with tired eyes.

“Hello?” you nearly whined, sleep lacing your voice. You didn’t even check the caller identification.

“Hey, you got a sec?” You let out an audible groan as you collapsed back into your mess of blankets and pillows.

“Hidan?” You were so tired you could cry. Your head hurt. Fatigue pounded on the inside of your head and to make it even worse, the first voice that you heard when you woke up was Hidan’s.

“So? You got a sec or what?”

“This better be a fuckin’ emergency.” Your comforter muffled your voice as you spoke into the phone. Hidan chuckled on the other side, cooing something about foul language.

“Open your window, I’ll make it quick.”

“My window?” you cried, but Hidan had already hung up the call. You fumbled for a lamp and shambled to gather yourself before going over to your bedroom window. You grabbed a soft jacket and draped it over your shoulders as you pried open the glass. Sure enough, Hidan sat patiently waiting for you. He held a childish look of triumph on his face. You blinked at him. “How?”

“I found something cool to do, but only if you’re up for it.”

You squinted down at him and your palms swiped across your eyes. The night had fully overtaken the sky, but it was still that hour in which the moon cast a clear light over the yard. Hidan’s grey eyes appeared even more violet and you considered whether he would disappear if you blinked hard enough.

“What are you doing at my house? Just text me tomorrow morning.” You moved to close the window, but Hidan stopped you. The sound of crickets chirped in the background.

“Wait a minute, wait a minute, let me take you out this weekend.” Hidan’s fingertips pressed against the outside of the glass before he recoiled his touch gingerly from the window. Your arms moved over your chest as you hugged your jacket closer to your chest. A sentimental expression washed over his features. “C’mon, babe, at least now you can’t say that I’m not a romantic.”

“If I hadn’t known you since you face planted on the playground in elementary school, I would have already called the cops.” Hidan shrugged and he scratched the back of his neck with a nervousness that you didn’t pick up on.

“Yeah, I guess I deserve that.” You moved to once more shut the window.

“Wait, so can I get you to take a break from all your school stuff? C’mon you deserve a break. Lemme take you out.” You yawned, nodding.

“Whatever you say, Hidan. Now please go home. It’s too late for this.”

The window shut. It was ten o’clock.

Senioritis (each character series interweaves with the others, but they can be read alone or in any order)

Table Four (Hidan x Reader), Part I Part II Part III Part IV Part V Part VI

Table Two (Deidara x Reader), Part I 

Senioritis: Lab (Sasori x Reader) Part I Part II

Notes: You know what’s a struggle? Writing the Akatsuki guys in character but also writing them as safe men who won’t try shit. I suppose that’s a personal choice and I must live with it (but boy is it fun).

Thank you to all who liked, reblogged, followed and otherwise supported. Your support means so much and is greatly appreciated.