#I wish I could post my drafts where I’m being an asshole

[hardlypartying]

Did you see this? Riara nation we are so up!

https://x.com/reylobalance/status/1860430248497631540?s=46&t=qDjQsYeSo71ks16gjmne6Q

Well then 😽🥇 This is just what I needed to see after getting a whole bunch of bs coming through the riara tag :)

[violentdelightsandviolentends]

hii congrats on 5k!! i love your writing ! if you’re still celebrating could i request a carmy blurb where maybe you’re syd’s besite and carmy has this biggggest crush on you (im talking this mf is Yearning) and she gets on him sooo hard about it like teasing him and reader and him end up together ? TIA <3

Not So Secret.

carmen berzatto x female reader

warnings - cursing.

written for my 5k celebration- post here, masterlist here, inbox here.

“You’re gonna stare a hole through her fuckin’ head.”

“Shut up.”

Richie laughs, following Carmens eyeline to where it’s fixed on you.

You’re stood in the restaurant with Sydney, both of you giggling at something she’s showing you on her phone. When you look up, you smile at Carmy, all soft and sweet and like butter wouldn’t melt. He almost melts, a puddle of yearning on the kitchen floor.

Sugar appears next to the two of you, holding out a piece of paper.

“This is a really rough draft of what we kind of want them to look like. Obviously you have full control, but this is kind of the vibe?”

When Carmen mentioned wanting a more personal touch on the menus, Sydney quickly offered your services. You’re the most artistic person she knows, gifted with naturally gorgeous handwriting that almost looks like calligraphy. Plus, she knows how much everyone at The Bear likes you, having been a part of their transformation. It’s a win - win.

“Yeah, I get you. So you want the title words like Dessert in more of a cursive, and then the actual dishes and descriptions in a typeface?”

“Yes! Do your thing. We trust you.”

She gives you a side hug, careful not to hit you with her bump.

“I’m gonna need some nice paper, and probably a new calligraphy pen so I can start from scratch. I’m gonna head to the craft store, and I’ll be back.”

“Carmy will go with you!”

Richie shouts it from the doorway, where he’s been not so subtly watching the conversation. Carmy blushes, clearly caught off guard.

“He needs to go to the craft store too, right Cousin? Good. Go. Bye!”

Carmy’s practically being pushed out the door, uncomfortable and flustered. You smile reassuringly, grabbing your bag and walking over to your car.

“You’re okay with me driving?”

“Course. Shouldn’t I be?”

You laugh, and he can’t help but grin, the sound settling nicely into his ribcage to warm him up.

“I’m a good driver, I promise. Despite what Sydney might say.”

He looks worried but gets in anyway, ever trusting you and anything you do.

He can’t help but sneak glances at you as you drive. You’re completely focused on the road in front, bottom lip pulled between your teeth as you concentrate. Carmy feels heat bloom across his chest at the action, wishing he could reach out and release it for you before you draw blood.

A text chimes through the air, startling you both. You press the button on your steering wheel so your car can read the message out loud.

From Sydney: Carmy. Tell her immediately or I’ll lock you in the walk in freezer. Sick of you acting like a lovesick puppy. This is your chance. Don’t blow it, asshole. We’re all tired.

Both of you freeze, your hands tightening on the wheel. Carmy wants to throw himself out of the moving car, but decides against it at the last minute.

You pull the car into the craft store parking lot, choosing a space and yanking the handbrake on. You turn to him, looking at him for the first time since the bombshell.

He’s blushed all over, chest heaving and bottom lip pulled between his teeth. You almost want to reach out and release it for him, before he draws blood.

“Carmy.”

“I think, uh, yeah, I just - that was clearly sent to the wrong person. Not meant for you.”

You laugh, suddenly, and it spooks Carmy so much that he jumps out of his skin.

“Yeah, Carm. That I figured.”

He laughs with you then, unsure and nervous. You reach out and place a hand on his knee, trying to calm him down. It just makes his heart lurch.

“What’s Syd talking about? Tell me what?”

He looks down at his lap, hands knotted together.

“I think you know.”

“Wanna hear you say it,” you whisper.

He finds the courage to meet your gaze, taking a deep breath.

“I like you. So much. I can’t stop talking about you to anyone and everyone that’ll listen - to the point that everyone at The Bear gives me so much shit for it. Sydney won’t get off my back, either. She says I’m ‘yearning’.”

You chuckle, rubbing patterns into the material of his jeans with your thumb.

“They’ve all made bets,” he continues, “about if I’ll ever tell you or not.”

“Who bet on you? And who against?”

“Syd and Richie against me. Marcus too. Tina and Sugar are on my side. Not sure why.”

“Wanna make Tina and Sugar some money?”

He quirks a brow questioningly, eyes going wide when you lean over the centre console and plant your hands on either side of his face. You’re so close to him that your breaths tangle together, one set of lungs working overtime.

“Kiss me, Carm.”

He doesn’t think twice, closing the gap and pressing his lips to yours. You tangle your fingers in his hair, trying to pull him impossibly closer. His hands find your back, tugging you into him as much as the limited space allows.

You whine when he bites at your lip gently, and he has to pull away to take a steadying breath before he passes out.

“You should get your eyes checked.”

He tries to process for a moment.

“Huh?”

“You must be blind if you can’t see how much I like you, Carm. How much I’ve always liked you.”

He grins at you, bright and white, and you shake your head before leaning in to kiss him again.

When you don’t make it back into the restaurant that day, everyone has never been happier to not see the both you.

[tokyorevismylife]

Ladies Man- Pt.1

a ran x reader series

trigger warnings: a little cussing, reader is female

A/N:  I’ve decided to post more often, so here is a Ran dump I had saved in my drafts, because I love him so much.

Ran Haitani was the epitome of a ladies man. The very definition of one. His appearance and his charming personality was enough to with anyone over. Tall, well built but slim, with long hair tied up into braids, a pretty face and most of all, his calculating violet eyes that managed to capture the hearts of any girl he set his sights on. And he just was so seemingly effortless and graceful in all that he did. He was suave, charismatic, the list goes on. Not to mention, being able to take charge over the Roppongi district at such a young age and being apart of multiple gangs did wonders for the bad boy persona that so many females seem to like. Long story short, these advantageous traits made him extremely attractive. That’s why Ran Haitani, has always lived the good life when it came to dating. With one luck, he can wrap a girl around his finger. Who wouldn’t use this skill to their advantage?

This is precisely the reason when his younger brother Rindou didn’t even bat an eye when yet another one of his girlfriends came over to his house to disrupt the minimal peace he had. Living with such a popular brother like Ran isn’t easy. Naturally, with talents like these, a little bit of bragging is clearly understandable, right? So, obviously, Ran showed them off at every given moment. At last, what seemed like centuries later, the girl left looking utterly pleased that she was able to spend some time with a guy that seems like he came out of some fantasy shoujo manga. 

After she left, Ran plopped on the living room couch looking bored and displeased. “What’s up with you?” Rindou inquired. “Shouldn’t your dumbass be smirking in my face telling me about how many girls you manage to pull?

 “Aw come now, I understand you’re jealous but that’s no reason to insult your phenomenal elder brother, now is it?” Ran retorted. 

Rindou merely rolled his eyes, however his exasperation quickly faded when he saw that the look on Ran’s face returned to displeasure. “Dude, what the hell is wrong with you? How can you look dissatisfied after hooking up with a girl?” Rindou asked his brother.

“I wish I could be as simple minded as you, Rindou.” The elder Haitani melodramatically sighed. “You see, when you’re as attractive as I am, you can get anyone to like you. And that’s exactly my problem. I get all these girls to like me, and majority of them are smoking too. But they’re all the same, just trying to get in my pants because they think I’m some hot bad boy gangster, which I mean, I am....but I think I just want someone to like me for me.”

Rindou blinked. “Bro... are you on crack?”, was the only thing the younger Haitani was able to spew out after hearing Ran’s rather surprising monologue. “I never thought I would see the day where Ran Haitani would be tired of hooking up and actually want to commit to a relationship.” Ran didn’t say anything but glared at his brother. Rindou, if he wanted to, could also be a complete asshole. “Well, Ran, you’ll find someone someday. But, there is no point in moping around. If you want a committed relationship with someone, get off your ass, find someone you like, and use your charms. And quit hooking up with girls who only want you for shallow reasons if it bothers you that much.”

Ran stiffened at being called out but grudgingly accepted that his brother was right. Rindou has always been the wiser one among the two. He simply tilted his head back against the couch and hoped that someone would come along soon...

“CRAP!!!” I’m gonna be late!!” You leapt out of your bed, when you realized that school would start in 20 mins. You had spent majority of the night before cramming for an extremely important test of yours, which lead to you oversleeping due to your exhaustion. Within a matter of minutes, you somehow managed to shove some sort of food in your mouth, sort your appearance out and pack your bags before bolting out the door. 

“I think I may just have set a world record for fastest time to get ready”, you said as you were jogging at a quick pace. You pulled out your phone and checked the time. “Oh god, I’m gonna have to speed things up a notch if I want a hope of making it.” You swiftly quickened your pace. Upon focusing on being able to maintain a steady pace, you weren’t paying attention too much, which caused you to full on collide with an extremely tall person, which caused them to spill their drink they were holding, on their clothes. 

You straightened yourself out before looking up at the stranger. “Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry!! I was in a rush because I didn’t want to be late for class and I wasn’t paying attention.” You looked at the guy, who had shrewd, calculating eyes and stared at you. “Um, I’ll probably be late, but I can buy you a drink to compensate?” You got a better look at the man, and despite being soiled with his drink, he was extremely handsome, with long braids accentuating his pretty face. And..silent. He was starting to freak you out. 

Meanwhile, in Ran Haitani’s mind, he didn’t know how to speak. He couldn’t gather his voice. What the hell is happening? He thought to himself. He was basically a professional flirt, so why was he struggling so much to recollect himself? He looked at the stranger before him. She was tinier than him, and stared at him apprehensively, and not to mention, she was incredibly cute. Beautiful. But not like anyone he was used to dealing with. He was used to dealing with girls with top-tier designer clothes, heavy makeup, and professionally done hair, and well... she was the opposite. She had a basic school uniform thrown on, which was disheveled, and a couple crumbs of food on her cheeks. And, she spilled a hot drink on him. So, how did Ran Haitani manage to fall so hard? 

“Hello, dude...are you good?? Yes or no to that offer? I’d really appreciate an answer fast. I need to go to school.” You asked him, nearing the end of your patience. He snapped out of his reverie that you placed him in. “Hm..I dunno...I, Ran Haitani might need something more...” And at that, he internally cringed. Where had his eloquence gone? I, Ran Haitani?? Who says that in this day and age?? So, therefore, Ran wasn’t surprised when you looked at him funny. “Well, pretty...how about a date with me, hm? I think that’s payment enough. And, I promise it’ll be fun.” That should do it, Ran thought. Most girls would swoon if they could spend one NANOSECOND with me. And, your disgusted face made his heart drop, and he felt nervous. This was the first time he was so desperate for a girl to say yes. He wondered how someone like you managed to have so much power over him. How did you make him, of all people become a simp?

“Um...no thank you. I’m not really into the arrogant pretty-boy asshole type. But look! Those girls are!” You exclaimed, pointing to a small group of screeching girls staring at Ran. You pushed past him, as he stood dumbfounded. But, you quickly turned back and pushed a wad of crumpled bills into his unsuspecting hand. 

“For the drink. Sorry for the disturbance, Ran Haitani.” And with that, you managed to make Ran Haitani come to a standstill. All he could do is stare at your distant figure, that retreated quickly.

[goron-king-darunia]

Problem...

Annon-Guy: I had to use Submission to say and ask something important.

Apparently, I NEED a tumblr account to ask anonymously from now on and that's stupid!

I'm also not sure about a tumblr page, but are there benefits to having a Page. It would destroy my anonymous persona and I'm don't wish to run into problematic people despite having a YouTube and Fanfic.Net account

GKD here! That does seem weird. Maybe it’s to cut down on anonymous hate messages?

I enjoy having my blog and my page, personally. But I have been here for 10+ years. Honestly, I’ve never had trouble with people being mean to me or running into “problematic people.” Honestly, any time there’s a confrontation, I’m usually the one being the asshole/ unnecessarily aggressive.

Honestly, especially if you intend to lurk/not post original content often, Tumblr is pretty chill. For me at least. I got, like, exactly one piece of legitimate anon-hate thrown at me exactly one time. I’ve talked with people on Tumblr who have the exact opposite political opinions to me and not had explosive dragging drama fights about it.

Granted. Most of the stuff I do on Tumblr is gush about Legend of Zelda, DotNW, a few other fandoms, and then repost a bajillion memes. But I’m pretty openly political with what I reblog, and fairly opinionated. Though most of my opinions are about a game that most of the USA fandom HATED. So my bubble here is pretty niche. But, like. Most of the people in my immediate circle are excellent people and all the people in their circles have so far been delightful. I can honestly only think about exactly one time that someone random searched up a post of mine to get irrationally angry at. And yes I drafted several pages of clap back and then just... the fire of anger fizzled and I never posted it because their irrational hatred just wasn’t worth my time.

I can’t promise you a drama-free experience on here. But I’ve got this blog and a side blog where I mostly talk about my writing or my experiences with video games. And neither of my blogs are lightning rods for anyone’s ire. Hell, when I started this blog, my about section on my page was basically giving people ammo to harass me with. Unless your blog becomes massively popular, I think you’re going to be fine. And if assholes do come knocking for whatever reason? We have the handy little block feature.

That said, you don’t really have to provide any IRL info when you make a blog here. My real name isn’t associated with either of my accounts. You could theoretically just whip up an account with the handle “ThatOneAnnonDude” or something generic, set up your blog title to be “I’m just here to talk games and read memes, and I’m all out of memes.” and just... post absolutely nothing or absolutely anything. And I think you’d generally be okay. I dunno if I’m just lucky, but my experience with Drama™ on Tumblr has mostly been as a spectator. At arm’s length. More like looking over to the mountains on the horizon with binoculars and seeing some smoke rising and thinking to myself “Glad that’s not me, wow.” and continuing with my day.

Personally, I like being able to curate my blog. Gather up a bunch of things that I like and categorize them with tags so I have my own little scrapbook of goodies I can look at (I literally have a tag that’s just “#for the sad times” so if I feel sad I can just pull up that tag on my blog and find all sorts of cute puppy and kitten videos or recipes, or nature photos, or whatever I saw that made me smile once so that I can feel better again. It’s nice.) It’s nifty to be able to tag a bunch of things so that if I want art inspo or a nice reference photo or a knitting project I want to emulate, or whatever, I can just search it up on my own blog and find a bunch of stuff I liked before. It’s nice to be able to search through my Richter tag and see pictures of him that other people drew or re-read some of my own opinions (all the while nodding along like “Yas, I agree so much!” while fully knowing that’s my own damn post. XD) It’s fun to follow a bunch of cool people and get introduced to stuff through osmosis. (I have, like, one person I followed on here for their exquisite taste in ramen art and I am learning so much about the “The Last of Us” HBO show. I have another friend who I followed for DotNW stuff and it turns out they’re just mostly into birds, and it turns out I enjoy learning about birds.)

Honestly it does suck that Tumblr is removing a feature that makes it easier to communicate with me. But Tumblr has been an enjoyable experience to me. I’m just a young whippersnapper practicing for the granny years, sitting on my metaphorical porch with a glass of metaphorical wine, sipping and scrolling through memes, knitting a hat for one of my buds, deciding on a new recipe to make for dinner, listening to goth icons talk about Tumblr culture or a politics video or a Archie Sonic Comics deep dive, procrastinating on my novel. I’m just vibing. I’m having a good time. And occasionally new people with DotNW icons will start following me like I’m a mother duck and I’m like “yes, good, even if we ship different ships, you have impeccable tastes. Welcome to the DotNW table, here are 900 memes, the rare fanfic, and occasionally some opinions. Also here are a billion other memes about irrelevant things, enjoy your stay.”

I’m like an old man at the swap meet. I’m sitting here with a table full of bootleg Yugioh cards (memes), Random DVDs (gifsets of things I like), old classic literature (the really good memes that get passed around a lot) and Slim Jims (opinions, curated art, and idea prompts about specific characters and games.)

It’s fine if you’re shy or prefer not to have a Tumblr for any other reason and I understand if we might have to communicate only through submissions from now on. But honestly, Tumblr is a pretty chill place to be as long as you don’t go picking fights on purpose and block anyone that makes you even remotely unhappy. It takes a little getting used to, since Tumblr as a site has its own sort of culture. But hey! Tumblr also has resident meme historians.

If you want to give Tumblr a try, I think it’s worth a shot. My only gripe is that I get major FOMO, so I compulsively scroll Tumblr every day and then overwhelm myself by drafting an infinite number of posts that look neat but I want to read and tag properly before posting and WHOOPS now I have 300,000 drafts to comb through instead of just deleting them all because “what if there was something good in there that I’ll miss?”

But if you have even an ounce of self control and don’t have to compulsively read or reblog everything, then congrats! Tumblr’s probably worth a shot.

It’s also worth noting that I’m a massive mother hen, so I will keep you nice and cozy and tucked under my wing and if anyone gives you a bad time I will peck the shit out of them for you.

[icollectyoursins]

Jotaro x Reader NSFW

Anon said: “Saw that requests are open! Do you think I could ask for some Jotaro smut. I would love for him to just use me however he pleases.”

Fun fact! I was almost forced to write this twice because tumblr just kind of... took it? Maybe it’s some deity trying to have a laugh, but I could not find this in my drafts at all, but I could see it in the mass post editor tab and I could add more tags to it, but it was nowhere to be found. 

Whether you’ve been good or bad, there’s one thing that your partner Jotaro always knows how to do. Fuck you until you’re stupid. There was just something about his demeanour and stature that made you give in to his every word. This time, he decides to bring a belt to the bedroom and you are weak.

Wanna know what I’m willing to write? Rules here!

Have a character, but no idea? Prompt list here!

Looking for more? Master post here!

WARNINGS: Belts used as collars, spanking, anal fingering, anal

Word Count: 1360

   Jotaro stood above you, fully clothed with a belt in both hands. You were kneeling in front of him, naked and cold, though the only thing that made you shake was anticipation. Eagerly, you waited for either a command or for him to simply shove his cock down your throat. His bright blue eyes stared down at you, demanding and hard.

   “Get on the bed,” he rumbled. Quickly, you sat up, perching yourself on the edge. “Turn around.” Again, you did as you were told. He towered over you, caging your body under his while he whispered in your ear. “Don’t move. I’m not afraid of leaving your ass red.”

   You whimpered, barely able to contain your excitement. Carefully, he put the belt against your throat, looping it behind your head, turning it into a collar and leash. He buckled it, then tugged on it lightly to make sure it was secure enough. The moan you let out got caught in your throat as it pressed into your neck. It wasn’t enough to fully choke, just something you knew Jotaro would use as a warning unless you told him otherwise.

   “Behave,” he growls in your ear before pulling back letting the belt go slack while his freehand started groping your ass immediately. He could feel his erection straining against his pants. There was nothing he wanted to do more fuck you senseless, but as tempted as he was and as rough as he wanted to be, he didn’t want to hurt you. Too much.

   Jotaro’s thumb massaged into your asshole, watching it twitch when he spread your cheeks open, practically begging him to destroy you. The anticipation was killing you. You wiggled towards him, pressing into his pelvis. He glared for a second, then brought his hand down on your ass cheek, making you yelp. The belt was pulled back, forcing you to arch your back. 

   “Don’t move.”

   You gulped, meekly nodding your head. Again, the belt was released, though this time he pushed you onto the bed, holding you in place. His finger was already brushing against your hole, making you whine.

   “Spread yourself for me.” Almost as though you were on autopilot, you reached back, spreading your cheeks open. He hummed in appreciation, teasing your aching hole more before giving in. He pressed into you, slowly stretching you open. You cried out in a mix of pain and pleasure, then he pulled his finger back. Then, the process repeated again.

   Gradually, he worked you open making you moan into the sheets. Finally, the full digit was inside you, curling into your sweet spots. You were used to the insertion when he tried putting in a second one, gently pushing against your hole while watching your reactions. He was very careful to not hurt you, but you were too tight. 

   You hear the sound of a bottle click open then the feel of something cold dripping onto your hole. Lube. Relief washed over you, though you were fully prepared for him to be a little more rough tonight, you were thankful he wanted to make this as easy as possible for you. You moaned as his thick fingers massaged into you, collecting little drops on his index and pushing them into your ass.

   Again, two warm digits were pressed against your hole, slowly testing your looseness. Still pinned down by his other hand, you tried not to squirm under him, but the slow pace was agonizing. The stretch around his middle and fourth finger was simply delicious. You couldn’t help the moans that fell freely from your lips as he stretched you open along with incoherent begging for him to split you in two. He was only a knuckle deep, but you already felt spread out wide.

   Jotaro slowly fucked his fingers in and out of you, seemingly undisturbed by your desperate mewls. Eventually, three fingers were added. You were openly leaking onto the bedsheets from both ends by now. He felt so good. You were so close, so fucked out. You just wished he would give you the “honour” of making a mess on his floor. 

   “Pleasseeee.” You whined out, letting your arms flop to your sides, tired from holding yourself open for so long. He stopped moving.

   “’Please,’ what?” He stretched his fingers out, scissoring you.

   “~AaaAah. Please, let me cuummm!” He pulled on the belt, arching your back towards him. You moaned. “Sir!”

   The fingers were pulled out of your ass, leaving you empty. Once again he leaned over you, staring down at you. You were a mess. Lips were swollen from biting them so much with a little trail of drool at the corner of your mouth. Your hair clung to the sweat on your face. You were quite the mess, but he could make you so much worse.

   Using Star Platinum, he undid the buttons and zippers on his pants, pulling them down. His cock bounced free from his boxers, finally free. Without looking, he lined the tip up with your now loose hole, watching your eyes grow wide realizing you were getting what you had been begging for.

   Jotaro’s stand spread your ass cheeks apart while he pressed himself into you. You cried out, head hanging down. He tugged on the belt again.

   “Look at me,” he growled. You stared up at him, tears forming at the corner of your eyes. You wanted him so bad. He continued to push into you, making your eyes cross. His cock filling you deliciously drove you wild to the point where you thought there was going to have some kind of brain damage.

   He was only halfway in when he started thrusting into you, slowly at first to get you used to his size, but gradually he picked up the pace. You were in bliss being turned into his cock sleeve, bouncing happily on his dick. The more the fucked you, the more he was able to give you. Soon he was almost fully in you, stretching your insides in a way that made you forget your name. 

   “Jotarooo~” You moaned out over and over again as he rolled his hips into you, making your vision go white. Again, you were so close to your release, it was getting harder and harder to not push back into him, using him to finally cum. He would never let you, of course. He would probably walk away if you so much as bucked under him. Shamefully, the thought of him tying you down in this spot then leaving you turned you on even more.

   “Unf~ fuck. You’re so tight.” He pushed you down onto the bed, leaning over you again. The new position just made everything that much more intense for both of you.  Both of you groaned loudly while he plowed into you. It was as though your ass was pulling back in each time he pulled out. He had no choice but to push deeper into you while he chased his release. 

   Your eyes were rolling back into your head, voice rising in pitch as you got closer. You blurted out incoherent ‘please’s and ‘I’m close’s until he hit a sensitive part of you, forcing you to barrel over into your orgasm, crying out his name while you gushed out onto the floor.

   Jotaro followed soon after, spilling his seed into your bowels with a loud groan. Both of you panted, hot and sweaty from the exertion until he gently undid the belt, calling Star Platinum to massage your neck while he pulled out. He grabbed the warm towels you had set on the side table earlier, softly cleaning up the mess as you slowly drifted off to sleep.

   After getting you more comfortable on the bed, he opted to read a book while he waited for you to wake up. After all, he wasn’t quite done with you just yet. Though, he did check his phone to see how his picture turned out. Unbeknownst to you, he had briefly stopped time while you were mid-orgasm to savour the moment. He might share them with you after this, but not before taking just a few more.

[fruitcoops]

For the video fic you just posted with Remus and Greyback could you consider making one with the rest of them team and his family?? Like when he sees them after they watch the video?

If not its totally fine no pressure!! Love you!!

I absolutely can! In this house we love and appreciate the Lions and their collective parents, Hope and Lyall Lupin. Dumo and Hope get together on the weekends for a Zoom call where they make margaritas. Sweater Weather credit goes to @lumosinlove!

This is a continuation of Silver Screen

The locker room was dead quiet when Remus, Sirius, and James walked in. Leo’s eyes were red and tears tracked down his cheeks; a storm of emotions played out across Dumo’s face as he stood and walked over, resting his hands on his shoulders as he looked deep into his eyes. “Are you okay, mon fils?”

Something stuttered in Remus’ chest at the nickname. “I’ll be alright. Alice is talking to the organization right now with coach. How about you guys?”

Talker laughed from his stall, wiping the tears from his face at the same time. “Leave it to Loops to be worried about us right now.”

“When you told us while we were watching All-Stars—” Kasey bit his lip and shook his head. “Cap, did Greyback tell you then?”

“In a way.” Sirius’ arm was a steady weight over his shoulders. “No details, but I got the general idea. I wanted to tell someone, but…”

“Nobody would have believed you,” Remus said. “There wasn’t any proof at the time.”

“Now there is,” Leo said hoarsely. “Re, the things he said—you know that’s not true, right? You know that we all love you so much?”

Remus smiled slightly. “Yeah. Kinda sick and tired of having my business plastered over the news, though.”

Dumo snorted, but it was a rueful sound. “It’s a pity we’re not facing Vegas soon. I’d like to get my hands on that asshole again.”

Murmurs of agreement filled the locker room; a sudden thought struck Remus. “Harzy, Tremz, Knut, could I talk to you real quick? Just—just for a second.”

The three shared a look and stood, following him into the hall. Remus kept his hand twined with Sirius’ as the door closed behind them. “What’s up, Loops?”

“Greyback didn’t know. He didn’t know I’m gay.” Remus looked at each of them individually. “He banked on me having some kind of secret, but there was no way he could have known and I need you to understand that it had nothing to do with that, okay?”

“Okay.” Finn frowned slightly.

They don’t get it. Remus took a shaky breath and felt Sirius squeeze his hand gently. Of course he knows what I’m thinking. “Greyback threatened to tell my secret and I thought he meant he would out me. You’re in the same position I was, and I want you to know that I will personally square up against anyone who threatens you like that. What he did was horrific, but I know how the threats could be scarier than the injury.”

Shock painted three faces. “How did you—” Leo opened and closed his mouth a couple times before stepping forward and practically falling into Remus’ arms. “You always fucking know what to say.”

“I guess it’s my turn to cry,” Finn sniffled as he joined the hug and pulled Logan along. The five of them stayed there for a moment, a strange mix of still-sweaty and shower fresh as they swayed in place.

“You deserve to be proud,” Remus murmured. “I don’t want this to scare you more.”

“The scary part was hearing you and knowing we couldn’t help,” Logan said, his voice muffled in Remus’ shoulder. “Merde, Loops, I wish we could have been there.”

“You’re here now, and that’s what matters.”

As he said it, Remus realized he was starting to believe it as well. For years Greyback’s threat had haunted him; he questioned what his life would have been like if he had just left even two minutes earlier nearly every night. But now, he knew the truth: if he had been the number-one draft pick, if he had been chosen for the NHL and gone on to what he originally planned, he would never have met Sirius. He would never have known Finn, Logan, Leo, Talker, or any of his best friends.

Remus hated Fenrir Greyback with every fiber of his body, but now he had solid proof that Fenrir was wrong. He had worked his ass off to heal and be even better than he was before—he had poured every bit of himself into being the most fan-fucking-tastic PT the Lions had ever known, and that dedication reaped endless benefits. He could move on.

“Let’s head back inside, okay? There’s a lot more to get done.”

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

The car pulled up outside and Remus’ stomach dropped to his feet. “I can’t do this,” he muttered, closing the curtains quickly. Sirius hands caught him gently around the waist as he tried to leave the room. “Sirius, I can’t.”

“You can.”

“I lied to them for years.”

“You were blackmailed, Re.”

“I’m their son and I lied about something super fucking important.”

“And they’ll love you just the same.” Sirius half-smiled at him when he turned around. “Hey. They’re your parents. You know they love you and you know this wasn’t your fault. They’ve been worried.”

Remus flexed his hands anxiously and quickly kissed Sirius on the lips. “Okay. Okay. God, you’re good at pep talks.”

“I’m the captain, it’s my job.”

His answering laugh was strained to say the least, but it was there. Rapid footsteps tapped along the stairs; someone knocked hurriedly. Remus froze in place as Sirius headed toward the door.

“Where is he?” Her voice was desperate. “Is he okay?”

“Hey, mom,” Remus said weakly. In a flurry of motion, she crossed the entryway and crashed into his arms, already crying. His father followed half a second later, wrapping them both up tight as he kissed the top of Remus’ head.

“Remus, I’m so sorry,” his mother sobbed, pulling back to cradle his face in her hands. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s not your fault.” The pressure of tears built behind Remus’ eyes and he blinked them back. “I’m sorry I lied to you.”

“Re.” His father’s voice broke and he pulled him close until Remus felt like he was six years old again, safe and protected. “You have nothing to be sorry for. Why didn’t you feel like you could tell us?”

“I thought he knew about me.” Remus closed his eyes and buried his face in his flannel shirt.

“Remus.” He looked up and found her sad eyes. “Sweetheart, did you think we wouldn’t accept you?”

“I wasn’t sure,” he sniffled, scrunching his nose up. He had already cried so much over the past few days; it was starting to get annoying. “To be honest, it kind of got lost in the chaos. I was so scared of what you might say. I—I was so scared of everything.”

“Oh, baby.” Hope’s lips trembled again as she scanned his face as if she was soaking in every detail, her thin fingers brushing his hair out of his eyes like she had always done.

“I’m better now,” he said with a weak shrug. “He can’t touch me anymore.”

Lyall smiled, though it looked pained. “You should never have been put in that position.”

It suddenly became difficult to swallow. “Okay.”

As if he could read his mind, his father pulled him back in for a hug and rested his chin on Remus’ head as his mother rubbed his back. “Sirius, stop lurking and join the hug,” she laughed. Moments later, a familiar set of arms encircled his other side and Sirius kissed his temple.

“Where’s Jules?” Remus asked without making a move to leave the hug.

“He’s staying with the neighbors. We didn’t think it was a good idea for him to be around all the press.” Lyall’s chest rumbled against Remus’ cheek and he melted into the feeling. “We’ll be here as long as you need us.”

“I love you so much.”

“Love you, too, Re.”

[peaceisadirtyword]

Teasing (Modern!Ivar/Reader)

A/N: Hello!♥️ It took me so long to finish this! (it was actually a draft I had forgotten and that I had to rewrite because it was even worse). It’s not my best work and I'm not very proud of this, but I'm posting it anyway. 

This fic is mainly for the lovely  @maggiescarborough​💕 Happy birthday, Sophie! I know I'm late and all of that😅 sorry! but I hope you had an amazing day and enjoyed it as much as you can. I really wanted to write something good for you, but I've been so mentally exhausted these past months that I don’t seem to be capable of writing good things :( anyway, I hope you enjoy it! I used this idea because I thought it was interesting, I really hope you like it♥️ Thank you for reading!

Warnings: smut, mentions of sex and alcohol, Ivar, my writer’s block (I think my block is the longest block on history), if it’s too bad I'll delete it I promise.

Words: 4108 (sorry)

gif belongs to @whenimaunicorn​ 

You had a love-hate relationship with the gym. You liked feeling fit, you liked the feeling after an intense workout, you felt better with yourself and it allowed you to eat a pizza afterwards. But you hated to be sweaty and sticky on your way home, especially when the showers at the gym were fucking broken. 

You nearly moaned in relief when you opened the door to the apartment you shared with your best friend. Her dad had insisted on installing an A/C last year, and even if you were a bit against it (you had spent one entire week bitching about how you were destroying the planet) you couldn't deny that entering the apartment after being walking under the sun for twenty minutes felt like entering Valhalla. 

Leaving your bag next to the door, you took off your shirt, groaning in annoyance and already thinking about drinking the entire bottle of fresh water you had put in the fridge earlier that day. 

But just when you were approaching the fridge, dressed only on your sports bra and the little grey shorts, someone interrupted you. 

"Will you keep stripping for me or should I go back to reading?" 

The scream died on your throat. You jumped, startled, and turned around to see the dark haired, blue-eyed asshole that almost gave you a heart attack. 

He was laying on the couch, a book between his hands and a smirk on his pouty lips that made you glare at him in rage. 

"What the fuck are you doing on my couch? In my house? Who let you in? Where the fuck is Thora?" 

Ivar laughed, shaking his head. 

"She's on her bedroom, with Hvitserk... I wouldn't go in" he raised an eyebrow. 

"What are you doing here?" you insisted, trying to cover yourself with your arms. 

"Didn't she tell you?" he chuckled "We're reforming our apartment, Hvitserk burned the kitchen" he shrugged "So we need to stay here for some days" 

"What?" you blinked. Thora definitely hadn't told you. You could go through some hours with the brothers, in fact you got along pretty well with Hvitserk. But days? That was different. 

Ivar's laugh interrupted your thoughts, making you glare at him again. It wasn't that you didn't like him. Ivar was a complicated person, he seemed to really like to tease you, in a friendly way. You didn't know how, but he always managed to get to your nerves. 

"Aren't you happy with having me here for days? All for you" 

You'd lie if you said his tone didn't make you press your thighs together.

"No" you rolled your eyes, finally opening the fridge to take the bottle out. You could feel his eyes on you as you drank the water "Anyway, I'm going to have a shower"

"Want me to join?" 

You rolled your eyes again, ignoring him as you walked to the bathroom, feeling even more exhausted than when you arrived. 

Ivar confused you. He could be nice, you knew that, and if he was a bit nicer, you would have probably made a move on him. He was the only one of all his brothers that was still single, he was... Really handsome, and the smartest person you had ever met. Maybe, just maybe, you had a crush on him. It was easy to handle it on a nightclub or a pub, but you didn't know how you'd react to his constant teasing at your own home. 

Even if he sometimes flirted with you -or that was what Thora said, you thought he was only messing with you- he wasn't attracted to you. You knew that because he would often go home with girls he met that same night. It was something that drove you mad, he could flirt with you, invite you to a drink, whisper sweet things on your ear as you were already tipsy and giggling, and then, he'd smirk at you and maybe leave for the toilet. When he came back, he had another girl on his arm, and ignored you for the rest of the night. 

When you finished your shower, you put your pajamas on and went out of the bathroom, hoping Ivar was only joking and that they'd go home after dinner. 

Thora was making out with Hvitserk on the kitchen as Ivar watched TV with a bored expression. As soon as she saw you, Thora ran to you, a big smile on her face. 

"I might have forgotten to tell you" 

"Yes, you might" you raised an eyebrow. 

"But it's okay, right? I mean, Hvitserk will sleep with me, he won't eat all the food and we'll be quiet, I promise" 

You sighed. 

"What about him?" you pointed at Ivar, who raised an eyebrow. 

"I'm fine with the couch" he shrugged "And I will be quiet too" he winked at you with a smirk, and you cleared your throat. 

"See?" Thora smiled brightly at you "Everything's fine, and they're buying dinner today, what do you prefer? Mexican or Chinese?" 

You shrugged as she looked around the kitchen for the small paper with the number of the nearest Mexican restaurant, knowing it was your favorite and that they needed to have you happy for the rest of the night. 

"Ivar, are you sure you can sleep on the couch?" Hvitserk sat next to his brother, frowning a bit in concern. Ivar looked bothered with his question, as he clenched his jaw and looked away. 

"Yes, I'm not a baby, Hvitserk" 

"I know, but the doctor said you shouldn't sleep in bad postures, Ivar" he lowered his tone "This couch is amazing for sex but terrible to sleep in" 

You decided to ignore the fact that Hvitserk just admitted fucking your roommate in the same couch in which you took a nap every day. 

"Yeah, Hvitty is right" you muttered, feeling bad for him as Ivar looked to the floor "You won't sleep well in here" 

He glared at you. 

"He's trying a new treatment" Hvitserk explained "This one is a bit more harsh, so he needs to rest well"

Ivar hissed. You knew that his legs were a sensitive topic. 

"You can always sleep on my bed" you muttered "I don't mind..." 

"Are you so desperate to have me in your bed, Y/N?" Ivar smirked again, and you tried your best to avoid blushing as you scoffed. 

"I'm just being polite" you glared at him, making Hvitserk chuckle. 

"Would you sleep in there with me or here?" he asked, shrugging. 

"If you think I like you enough to renounce to my bed for you, you're a bit delusional" 

Ivar smiled, shaking his head.

"Okay, dinner will be here in half an hour" Thora said happily, sitting on Hvitserk's lap "Want to watch a movie?" 

______________________________________

Hvitserk was nice, funny, a really good cook and hot, Thora even said he could give oral sex really good. But his taste in movies was shit. 

That morning when you woke up, you didn't even think you'd end up sharing vegetarian tacos with Ivar and watching Fifty Shades of Grey as Hvitserk and Thora kept making out. It was awkward. Especially when the sex scenes started. 

It was already midnight when the damn movie finished and you could finally get out from that couch, trying your best to avoid looking at Ivar as you took the plates to the kitchen. Thora had a weird smile as she stood up to help you. 

"So, what are you going to do?" she whispered as you put the plates on the sink, raising an eyebrow at her.

"I was thinking about going to sleep" you shrugged. 

"Shut up, you know what I mean" she giggled "You're going to sleep with Ivar, on the same bed... Are you going to finally do it?" 

"Do what?" 

"Do him" she rolled her eyes "Come on, Y/N, we all have eyes and we all can see the sexual tension" 

"There's no sexual tension" you scoffed "He just likes to tease me, he doesn't want to have sex with me" 

"Are you sure?" Thora laughed "You're so cute" she hugged you, making you frown in confusion "Didn't you see how he looked at you the whole night?" 

Yes, you had caught him staring at you more than once. He didn't look away, but instead he smirked and winked at you until you blushed and turned your head to the TV, but you though he was only messing with you, as always. He liked to bother you when he got bored. 

Shaking your head you went back to washing the plates. She giggled again and kissed your cheek before leaving to whisper something on Hvitserk's ear. 

Soon, they excused themselves to go to Thora's bedroom. Hvitserk wished you a good night with a wink and then proceeded to hit Ivar with one of the cushions before leaning in to say something in Danish and chuckling as his brother glared at him. 

As soon as their door closed behind them, you heard Ivar grunting softly as he stood up and approached you with his crutch. He said nothing as he leant onto the counter, next to you, watching your movements in silence. 

"Did you like the movie?" he asked. You turned your head to look at him for a second and your heart nearly stopped when you saw he let his hair down. 

"Not really" you cleared your throat "But it was entertaining..." 

"Yeah, definitely" he held back a smile "Thank you for letting me sleep on your bed" 

It was the first time you heard Ivar saying thank you, and you nearly dropped the glass you were washing. 

"It's nothing, really" you frowned "Why are you being nice?" 

He laughed, running one of his hands through his hair. You tried your best to avoid staring at him. 

"I can be nice" he shrugged. 

"Breaking news" you muttered, raising an eyebrow. Ivar chuckled again but said nothing. 

When you finished, you dried your hands and turned to look at him again. His blue eyes were still fixed on you and you immediately looked away.

"I think I'm going to go to bed" you nearly whispered "I'm tired"

Ivar only nodded, taking his crutch again and waiting until you started walking down the hall to follow you, turning off the lights. 

Luckily, your bed was big enough so two people could sleep on it without touching each other. Even if Ivar was fucking huge. 

"I'd like to have a shower before" he cleared his throat "Could I?" 

He left his bag next to the bed, turning to look at you as you were busy staring at his back. 

"Yeah, sure" you cleared your throat again "There are clean towels on the last drawer" you pointed at the four-drawer dresser. 

He nodded, and you heard him open the drawer as you turned around to pick up some of the clothes you had left on the floor, trying to make the room look a bit more presentable. And then you heard him chuckle and realized you had fucked up. 

"Nice" Ivar seemed to find really funny that you had a vibrator on your dresser. To be fair, you had forgotten you put it in there... And had barely used it "So this is how you can go months without sex"

Blushing fiercely, you snatched the vibrator from his hand and glared  at him. 

"Shut up"

"It's okay, I'm not judging you" he kept laughing, and you held yourself back from hitting him with the toy "I mean, we all have needs, right?" 

You ignored him, turning around again to face the wardrobe as you pretended to be too busy hanging your clothes. You could still hear his laugh when he left the room with the towel on his arm. After making sure you had hidden the vibrator well -you knew he was going to torment you with that for weeks, maybe even months-, you changed into your pajamas. 

____________________________

The bathroom was warm and you could feel the humidity when Ivar finally let you enter to wash your teeth. He was shirtless, wearing only a pair of grey sweatpants. You let your eyes linger on the tattoos that covered both his back and chest, but looked away and pretended to be angry at him as you turned to face the sink and grabbed your toothbrush. 

He hadn't washed his hair, and you had the pleasure to watch how he ran his hands through it and put it up on a bun. Then your eyes travelled down his face and his body, and you frowned. It was really unfair how beautiful he was, especially as he was the biggest idiot you had ever met. God, you hated him. 

As soon as you were finished, you raised your head to look at him again, but instead you found his blue eyes looking at you through the mirror. 

"See something you like?" He raised an eyebrow, that infuriating smirk was still on his lips.

"No" you narrowed your eyes and he laughed again "What's so funny?" 

"You" 

"Will I be as funny when I send you to sleep on the couch?" 

He shook his head and bit his lower lip, approaching you. 

"You wouldn't do that"

"Try me" you rolled your eyes.

"Nah, I don't have to, I know you wouldn't" 

"How do you know it?" You turned to face him, crossing your arms on your chest and staring back at him. 

"Because I know you like me" he shrugged "I can see it"

"I tolerate you" you scoffed "Only because you're my best friend's boyfriend's brother"

"Sure" he smirked again. 

"You're narcissist, obnoxious, arrogant and an asshole"

"You sound like Sigurd" he rolled his eyes. 

"I like Sigurd more than you" 

Ivar smiled again. It was driving you mad. 

"No you don't" he muttered, and suddenly he was really close to you "Shut up now"

You were going to protest, but he interrupted you again. By leaning in and kissing you. 

The kiss was even better than you had imagined. His lips were softer and warmer, and you couldn't help but close your eyes and moan softly as he pressed his body closer to you, leaning you against the sink. He was still leaning on his crutch, but his free hand travelled up your body until he reached your neck, grabbing it softly as you grabbed his shoulders to avoid falling down. Your knees felt weak and it was even worse when he smiled against your lips. 

Ivar broke the kiss for a few seconds, brushing his nose against yours before kissing you again, this time more deeply. You moved your hips against his, making him groan and bit your lower lip. You let out a gasp and frowned, whining in protest when he moved his lips away from yours. They brushed your cheek and his hand moved to tangle into your hair before he moved his mouth down your neck. Your heart was racing as he bit, licked and kissed your neck. 

He kissed you again, softly, almost like he tried to memorize the feeling of your lips against his. You felt dizzy when he finally broke the kiss, you were panting and your face burned. Ivar looked a bit taken aback by his own actions when he moved away from you. The both of you stared at each other in silence. He looked even more beautiful than he did just a couple of minutes before. 

Suddenly, he cleared his throat and turned around, walking to the door and closing it after him. You stood there, grabbing the sink as your legs still trembled and you felt hot. Your face was red, and your lips were pink and a bit swollen. After staring at your own reflection for a couple of minutes, you moved to open the water tap, leaning in to wash your face.

__________________________________

Ivar was laying on your bed. He had his arm under his head and his eyes on his phone. You barely dared to look at him when you entered, going directly to the mirror that stood next to you door to put your hair up on a ponytail. Any of you dared to break the silence, though. 

You climbed on the bed, facing away from him and snuggled under the covers. 

"I'm going to turn off the light, okay?" you muttered, and Ivar hummed. 

Silence again. You moved to hug your own pillow, as you always did, and just as you had closed your eyes and were about to drift off to sleep, you felt Ivar moving closer to you. He touched your waist, startling you. 

"Is this okay?" He asked, softly, on your ear. You tensed up but nodded slowly. He sighed in content and hugged your waist, pressing you against him. His head rested on your shoulder, and you felt his breathing on your neck. Your eyes were now wide open, and your heart started beating faster. 

Then you felt his lips on your cheek and leant onto him, you felt him smile against your skin and it made you smile a bit too. You didn't know what the hell was happening, but you were definitely enjoying it. 

"I might have been wanting to do this for months" he muttered "But don't tell anyone" 

You frowned and turned around to look at him. You were so close that you could feel his breathing on your lips.

"Are you messing with me? Because it's not funny" 

Ivar shook his head. Maybe if the room wasn't that dark, you could have seen him blushing.

"I'm not, I'm being honest now, don't ruin it" he glared at you and you raised an eyebrow.

"Okay, I'm listening" you smirked, enjoying that small amount of power you had over him in that moment.

It was the first time Ivar couldn't find the right words. He bit his lip, feeling stupid as he stared at you, unable to actually put into words what he needed to say. 

"Can I kiss you?" He finally said, frustrated. If he couldn't tell you, he'd show it. 

You held back a soft smile at his words and nodded. This time it was you who leant in to kiss him. He sighed against your lips and his hand went to your neck again, holding you close to him as he bit your lip. 

You moaned into his mouth, making him groan and grip your waist. When he broke the kiss again the both of you were panting and you pressed your thighs together. 

"Gods you drive me insane woman" he growled again, pressing his face against your neck. You blushed and smiled, feeling like a teenager whose crush invited her out. 

"I thought you..."

"Stop thinking" he chuckled "I know what you think, Thora told me" his blue eyes seemed to glow in the dark "You're wrong"

"But you always teased me" you rolled your eyes "You literally flirted with me and then left with some other girl"

"Yeah, that was rude" he cleared his throat "Sorry, I thought you didn't want to... Go home with me... I thought about you when we fucked though, if that counts" 

"No it doesn't" you couldn't help but laugh. 

Ivar smiled softly and kissed you again, this time his hand travelled down your waist, caressing your thigh and grabbing your leg, pulling you closer to him until you straddled him, without breaking the kiss. Your hips moved against his and you could feel his erection already pressing against his sweatpants. 

"Sigurd said you couldn't have sex" you raised an eyebrow

"Sigurd is a fucking idiot" he rolled his eyes, grinding against you, as a way of showing you he definitely could "He's jealous because he knows that even if I couldn't fuck, I'd be better than him" 

You giggled, amused, and leant to kiss him again. Ivar's hands travelled under your shirt and you moaned as he reached your breasts, caressing your skin softly. 

"Let me take this off" he nearly begged you, whispering into your ear, and his tone made you whimper. 

You took the shirt off and tossed it aside, suddenly feeling self-conscious and trying to hide yourself from him. His expression softened, knowing very well the feeling. Ivar, with a softness on his eyes that you didn't know he could show, put your arms away gently, sitting to start kissing your neck and chest softly. 

"It's okay" he muttered "You're beautiful, Y/N, you should know that" 

"I'm not that sure" you smiled as he raised his head to look at you "But thanks" 

"Then I'll tell you until you're sure" Ivar shrugged. 

Your smile widened and you kissed him again, it was like you couldn't get enough of him. His hands caressed your thighs and then his fingers reached the edge of your pajama shorts. Your gasped when he reached your sex, and moaned when Ivar caressed it over your panties, moving your hips to encourage him to continue. 

Ivar was already panting. His mouth felt dry and he had to lick his lips constantly. He let out a groan when he felt how wet you were already, and the fact that it was because of him made him smirk against the skin of your shoulder, putting your underwear aside and pressing onto your clit. You whimpered and your hands grabbed his neck and his arm. 

Ivar's fingers teased your entrance, you moaned and bit your lip, gasping when he pushed one finger inside you, moving it slowly in and out before adding another one. Then he curled them inside you, making you moan louder than before, immediately covering your mouth with your hand. 

"Don't" he frowned.

"But... Hvitserk and Thora..." 

"Fuck them, they're not especially silent, are they?" 

You giggled, but nodded as he kissed your neck again, his lips traveling down your chest until he reached your breasts. The feeling of his fingers thrusting into you, with the palm of his hand brushing your clit and his lips on your breasts was too much, and soon you felt that familiar knot on your lower belly, tightening quickly as you moved against him, moaning. Your legs were shaking around him and he groaned, raising his head to bite your earlobe. 

"Come on, love, cum for me now" 

It seemed that the last thing your body needed was to hear his voice whispering on your ear. You came with a small scream, moaning his name and panting. Ivar looked quite proud of himself when he retrieved his fingers, licking them with his eyes fixed on yours. 

Another kiss. He was so addictive it worried you, would you be able to spend a single minute next to him without kissing him? You only broke the kiss to take your shorts and panties off. Ivar only pulled his sweatpants down enough for him to free his cock. You didn't ask him to fully undress, instead you grabbed his face and kissed him as he pressed his erection against your entrance.

"Slowly, please" you muttered "It's been a while and I think you're a bit bigger than the vibrator" 

Ivar said nothing, just smirked and pressed his forehead against yours. He thrusted into you slowly, moaning softly as you whimpered in pain. 

"Am I hurting you?" He asked, his eyes showed true concern as you smiled and kissed his lips.

"It's okay, don't stop please"

It didn't take long for the pain to fade. This time you moaned in pleasure, and started moving against him. You pushed him so he'd lay down, putting your hands on his chest as you moved your hips up and down. Ivar bit his lip, narrowing his eyes and gripping your waist so hard you were sure he'd leave marks. 

Your nails dig on his tattooed chest as you felt your orgasm approaching, and Ivar moaned your name as your walls clenched around him. He moved his hand to your clit and circled it, making you moan even louder, your legs trembled again and your movements faltered a bit. Ivar kept thrusting into you until you moaned his name one last time before letting yourself go. He came just after you, biting his lip and muttering your name. 

Laying down over him, you kissed his lips one last time as his arms circled your waist. The both of you stayed in silence, enjoying each other's touch and soft breathing, until Ivar turned his head to look at you and smirked. 

"Next time, can we use the vibrator too?" 

_____________________________________

Tags: @mblaqgi​ @alicedopey​ @lol-haha-joke​ @hallowed-heathen​ @naaladareia​ @tephi101​ @captstefanbrandt​ @love-hate-love​ @titty-teetee​ @readsalot73​ @moondustmemories​ @thevikingsheaux​ @therealcalicali​ @chimera4plums​ @blushingskywalker​ @awkwardfangirl02​ @gruffle1​ @justacripple​ @love-dria @heartbeats-wildly​ @letsrunawaytotomorrow​ @inforapound​ @sallydelys​ @hellogabysblog​ @winchesterwife27​ @hecohansen31​ @youbloodymadgenius​ @xinyourdreamsx​ @funmadnessandbadassvikings​ @eteramfools​ @tgrrose​ @flokidottirsstuff​ @lovessce​ @tootie-fruity​ @didiintheblog​ @alexhandersenx​ @belovedcherry​ @fantasydevil2002​

I hope I didn’t forget anyone💞 thank you for reading! 

[draculaurafangz]

swim good / p. parker

a/n: honestly i did not plan on posting anything but i had to get this out of my drafts because, it’s been there for a while. anyways, this was based off of frank ocean’s song “swim good”. if you’ve ever listened to the song then you’d definitely know what i’m getting at with this. also, you guys can imagine the reader to look however you want, it’s not limited to like one specific image.

warnings: there’s like, a whole lotta angst, there’s curses here & there, and mentions of smut (not really but it’s kinda there, if you read you understand. lmao i don’t like writing smut at all.) also peter’s aged up 18 in this story & in college.

─ ─ ─

peter parker was very popular at your school. not only was it because of the fact that the whole entire school knew he was spiderman, but it was because he was known for sleeping around with girls on campus. thinking back on it, peter doesn’t even remember how it happened. one minute he was this nerdy, awkward teenager who always read his comic books and put together star wars lego sets, and here he is now messing around with girls and tugging at their heartstrings.

at first, he was obsessed with the idea of being this chick magnet. he lived with the pride, no matter how many girls he had lead on and given false hope to.

but now, he’s not so sure.

he’s realized he’s caused other girls around the school, and even in queens, a ton of pain. but most importantly, he had hurt you a great deal. to the point where you had left voicemails, telling him you wished you’d never see him again, and that you regret anything you ever did with him.

peter doesn’t regret it, he actually felt some sort of feeling towards you. out of all the other friday night hookups, you were different. your aura and your presence was just unmatched to those other girls. of course, you cursed yourself for ever sleeping with him because you knew about his reputation. but when you know you had the opportunity you had to take it. you thought you would be able to convince him and change his mind, but it was no use.

so here peter is on a friday night, sitting in his room all by himself, no hookup present. he missed you. god, he missed you so fucking much. he knew you wouldn’t talk to him if he just messaged you or even left a voicemail. he couldn’t bring himself to even think about the last conversation the two of you had because he hated seeing your face. you were broken and in pain. tears streaming down your face as your voice boomed within the room. saying that he was an asshole, and you thought you could actually change him but there was no point in changing him.

little did you know, you did change peter. you changed him a lot, to the point where you caused him to think about his past. there were some girls that honestly treated his hookups the way they were, and some actually cared but soon after got over it. then there were some like you who had been extremely heartbroken. peter never really paid attention to them though because they always made it their mission to ignore him.

it’s not that you didn’t ignore peter, because you did. you just didn’t talk to him at random anymore. he was in a couple of your classes, and would sometimes ask for notes. but other times, he’d just bump into you on campus. so yeah, you were ignoring him. with no intention of talking to him.

he felt so much pain over the past couple of days, thinking about he hurt other girls, thinking about how he hurt you. he cannot stop thinking about you, at this point he’s in love with you. he’s so guilt-ridden that even ned notices something is off with him.

“are you sure you’re okay? you just haven’t been yourself lately,” ned questioned just noticing that his friend seemed to always be disturbed.

“it’s nothing ned,” is what he’d usually respond with “i’m just stressed with my classes right now.”

ned shook his head understandingly. he knew that college for sure was hard on him and couldn’t even imagine how hard it was on peter. peter never told ned about everything, ned was three states away from peter. there was nothing ned could do to fix this, as peter realized he needed to fix everything himself.

his professors even noticed it. some of them even had to speak with him after class letting him know his grade was in great jeopardy. when they asked if everything okay, peter just explained that he had been off recently. he assured them that he’d be back on track soon, and get on top of his academics as well. after speaking with his physics professor he had headed towards your dorm. he never actually went to visit you at your dorm so he had no clue what room was yours. he’d remember swinging by your window, but never got an exact numbered door. when he walked into the main lobby, he asked some random girl if she knew who you were or where your dorm was. luckily for him, he actually bumped into your roomate, but your roomate refused to talk to him.

“i know who you are, and i think you should go,” she coldly spoke.

he pleaded with her and he promised he would make everything right with you if he could actually see you and get the chance to talk to you. after hearing his long ramble about his overdue apology, your roomate caved him and gave him your room number.

he felt anxiety rushing throughout his entire body as he looked through the hallways of numbered doors and finally spotted yours. he took a deep breath before knocking, reminding himself that he was going to be okay, this was going to be okay.

you opened the door and immediately slammed it in his face. behind the door, your eyes went wide and you bit your bottom lip as you thought about opening the door again. what could he have possibly wanted? what was he doing here? had he been stalking you? how the fuck did he find you room? your mind went back to the main question: what does he want and why is he here?

you turned around again facing your door and wiped your sweaty palms against your sweatpants. opening your door, you made a joke about how it was too early for a booty call. peter’s face remained straight seeming to just be unamused with the joke. you then asked what he had wanted. how this was all unlike him and how he truly he doesn’t chase but rather attract.

��y/n, just please hear me out. give me five minutes, two minutes even. i just need to talk to you,” he started.

you gulped, the big lump in your throat returning as you whispered a “come in” to him.

he sat on the edge of your bed as you stood in the middle of your room. your arms were crossed and you had a blank look on your face.

“i- i just wanted to say i’m sorry,” he stuttered, “i regret ever hurting you, y/n. i think back about how i ruined everything between us daily. usually i don’t let feelings get in the way of this but holy shit i cannot even deny them anymore. and that’s why i came here. i know i’ve given you so much stress lately and i truly apologize. i know i hurt you at night and i can’t even sleep sometimes knowing that i hurt you. i need to make things right. i’m not asking for anything major, i just want to be on good terms again with you,” he finished, averting his eyes away from yours.

you took his words in, thinking them over as you stared back at his features. you didn’t hate him, as a matter of fact you were head over heels in love with him. but you couldn’t do it. you could not be in a relationship right now, but you weren’t going to just dismiss the way he wanted to mend things between the two of you.

the two of you sat in silence for another minute as you collected your thoughts, him waiting patiently for you. you walked over to him and just hugged him. you already felt tears well up in your eyes but did not want them to spill. peter at this point was full on crying. this was the closure you both needed. you whispered in his ear how you don’t want a relationship right now, but he understood because he didn’t know if he was able to take on one by himself right now. as the two of you pulled apart, you wiped your eyes as you gave peter time to collect himself.

“i’m down to fix things. i love you a lot pete but we need to work on ourselves and our own dynamic before we even think about jumping into that whole relationship stage,” you said.

“and i’m totally okay with that. i can deal with that. i was just scared of losing you,” his eyes glossed over again as he said that. new tears were forming in his eyes.

you’d never thought you’d see the day where peter parker was actually showing some emotion. he seemed like the type to be emotionless after you had your experience with him.

it was going to take a while to heal, but you both had each other so there was no fear. peter was going to be more open and honest with his feelings. he was sorry, he was taking the accountability he should’ve taken a long time ago. he had you to thank for that.

i’m goin off (oh, my pretty love)

don’t try stopping me

i’m goin off (throw me in a line)

don’t try saving (you broke my heart)

no flares (you broke my heart)

no vest (you drove my love)

and no fear

waves are washin’ me out.

[gamebunny-advance]

NSR Doodle Dump

Eh... nothing exciting, but I’ll still write y’all some notes.

1) It’s been so long since I’ve actually drawn a 1010, so I did a couple of doodles to warm up. I think I’m placing their eyes too far apart XP. I like to imagine that White’s ahoge is actually an antenna that sends out signals to the others.

I’m sure this has shown up in earlier drafts, but my 1010s were all supposed to have an associated symbol that would get added to their eyes/hair shines (kinda like how I used to draw the Matsunos), though I’m usually too lazy to actually add it:

White: Star

Red: Plus Sign

Blue: Minus Sign

Yellow: Triangle

Green: Ring

2) Another Sewer Gang doodle. I wish there was more art of them together. I know they don’t really *do* anything aside from Kliff and Zam, but they’re there ya know?

3) I just can’t let this idea go. Included Zuke this time because I’ve been neglecting him UoU.

4) Sprite Redraw. I have that particular screenshot for a different post I have in my drafts. I dunno, just thought it’d be fun to do, but I can not figure out what the heck May is doing with her hands.

5) Just a music asshole doodle in the usual style.

6) Scrapped TNa1010 panel “Wants and Needs”. I still dunno how I’m gonna name the other 1010s, so I scrapped this, plus it’s a little too early for him to definitively say, “Yes, I’m actually a 1010... maybe.”

7) Please pardon me while I indulge in some cringe. “No Mushroom Roads”, my awful Mario crossover where Mayrio and Zukigi travel across the Vinyl Kingdom to rescue their Princess from King Bowsiana.

Anyway~

The first sketch I actually did was Yinu + Mother as a Crazee Dayzee (er, Rozee) and a Wiggler respectively, but that one’s still pretty rough, so here are the Ben-Bens instead. Originally I wanted to base them off of the Mario Sunshine bob-ombs where they’re more robotic looking, but I couldn’t really make it work, so I went with the classical design. I dunno how far I’m gonna get in this project since it’s so cringy, but here are the enemy conversions:

DJSS: Spike: I was thinking about this one more mechanically than the aesthetics, since I think it would be cool if he could upchuck and throw the planets/disco balls, but maybe he should be an X-Naut?

Sayu: Cheep Cheep: Couldn’t think of another aquatic Mario enemy, but I think a cheep cheep themed Sayu would be cute.

DK West: Waluigi: I mean, I guess Wario is more aesthetically suitable, but if Zuke is Luigi, then West can’t be anyone except Waluigi.

Yinu + Mother: Crazee Dayzee + Wiggler: I had fun making a rose themed dayzee, and I think that the wiggler being an enemy that has an “angry state” plus happens to be flower-themed was also perfect. Maybe her Dad would be a piranha plant since they don’t have eyes.

1010: Bob-ombs: Originally thought of making them shy guys since I think “dropping their mask” would have been a good fill in for them losing their faces, but there’s just something funnier about the resident sexymen being orbs with legs. Since bob-ombs don’t really have hair aside from their fuse, I gave Yellow an eyepatch to replicate his fringe covering his eye. I dunno how I’m gonna handle NJ though. Originally I thought of just making him King Bob-omb, but putting his radar on the face wasn’t really working. Maybe I’ll just make him a shy guy instead?

Eve: Magikoopa: Eve is so unique, I had a hard time thinking of an aesthetically suitable enemy, so instead I chose something based on her role as Tatiana’s closest friend. I’ve also considered just leaving her human, but I’m not sure yet.

Everyone else is essentially still human and are just dressed as the characters.

[borkthemork]

Got tagged by @calamity-unlocked for the procrastinating writer ask, and might as well! Always fun to get away from the pains of editing, RIP to Falling Down Dry’s eighth chapter.

1) How many works do you have on AO3?

26.

2) What’s your total AO3 word count?

220,000.

3) How many fandoms have you written for and what are they?

A lot. Just...a lot before I got into Ao3 so let’s keep it at that. But mainly I wrote for SU, Amphibia, and FMA.

4) What are your top five fics by kudos?

-Death of the Ego

I would say this happened because I wrote this at the right place at the right time. People had been theorizing that Steven would get corrupted ever since the trailer to SUF, and I originally made this as a one-shot...until people encouraged me to start exploring it.

Wouldn’t say it was my best work, but every time I wrote something it meant I improved slowly, and I would always appreciate that no matter the weather.

-Doesn’t Have to be Solo

Oh man, I loved this one! Just a series of connected events with Steven going on his road trip, and learning more about himself and who he was along the way. It also was the fic where I needed a lot of beta readers as time went on, so it made me learn a lot about grammar, prose, and overall the internal rules I developed while writing in general.

-Beyond the Music Box

This was the surprising one! This fic was originally a place where I could archive all the drabbles I written on Tumblr, and y’all really wanted it due to how chaotic my tag format is for this stuff.

It’s surprising for me because I didn’t expect a lot of love when it came to my casual writings since they take I don’t know an hour or so in creating, so thank you everyone who encouraged me to do this.

Just ignore the fact I’ve been lazy at updating the drabbles, shhhh.

-Building One Up

Marcanne, my beloved. Me and my friend kept talking about how Anne was a buff dork and this was at a time where no one really focused on that except mainly on Sasha when it came to strength (for obvious reasons).

I found this slander (I’m joking, by the way) and decided that I needed to write my feelings out on the topic.

And y’all agreed with me so dthdfthtfhtfht.

This also was the first time I had to hone in on a new form of characterization entirely, being that I infused the character’s thoughts and feelings into the way the prose flowed out itself. For Marcy, I went on a pretty analytical front with this piece, and it helped me get into the groove for people like Anne and Sasha and many others over the course of writing.

-Late Night Talks

I didn’t expect this one to blow up at all. I wrote this at one a.m. and y’all just grabbed this fic and ran, I am still confused.

5) Do you respond to comments, why or why not?

I respond to comments all the time because comments just give a lot of serotonin, you know? Someone took their time out of their day to remark on things I did in the work itself, and it’s just very validating to see. It also creates this environment that says, “Yes, I see you, and you can interact with me anytime you want.” so it’s all about that friendliness unless you’re rude to me back.

6) What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

Pizza for One. Had an angst kick when SUF occurred so I milked it whenever my motivation got the best of me.

7) Do you write crossovers? If so what is the craziest one you’ve written?

I don’t write crossovers unless you mean a crossover of characters to a new environment and set of rules. I would gladly write characters into the FMA world, oh my Lord!

But I guess the craziest stuff I’d written would just be comedy sketches? Best example would be Joe and Bessie having kids and Marcy having a conniption over it, so take that what you will.

8) Have you ever received hate on a fic?

I don’t believe so? I did get one person on my old SU fic asking me to continue while giving me unsolicited advice but they apologized not soon after.

9) Do you write smut? If so what kind?

I do write smut. I write it privately but I adore characterization and intimacy, and so I try to make rather domestic pieces that connect to the characters themselves. If it has a certain kink, I make sure to research it so I could understand why the character finds the act rather arousing, and I just want to pay respects to the act itself.

Even with our current day and age, there’s still a lot of conservative anti-sex rhetoric going around, and I always try to view the act of physical intimacy in the same lens as one who adores love in all its different facets and forms.

10) Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Nope.

11) Have you ever had a fic translated?

Nope to that either!

12) Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Sadly, no. I do art trades with people and those are lovely to do since we get to brainstorm and make art together, but I’ve never co-written work with someone. If anyone wants to do that, then sure, just hit me up.

13) What’s your all time favourite ship?

It changes every season, every morning tide, every peace loving hour on the Planet Earth.

It’s Marcanne, right now.

When it comes to ships I always go with the Friends-to-Lovers dynamic, but a lot of the ships I have come from seeing the amount of intrigue in how that type of ship would play out. That could be with Kannao and the amount of commentary over Japanese gender biases, or Royai with their very complicated but extensive adoration and loyalty to one another.

For Marcanne, it’s all about that playful banter that could definitely bubble out of the surface if you just (bangs table) allow them to communicate and be transparent fully. (cries)

14) What’s a WIP you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

Sadly, that Anne fic with her confiding in Hop Pop after they get settled in her house. After what happened with the sneak peek, I realized that this fic would need a lot of build-up to be satisfying and I didn’t have the strength to do a 10k build-up to Anne crying.

Maybe I’ll finish it, we’ll see.

15) What are your writing strengths?

Writing strengths would be concise prose and characterization. I am a worry wart, I worry over the importance of each paragraph and how it all forms and transitions together, it’s just a part of how I work a great deal of the time. And man, characterization is the big one for me, if I don’t understand how the people work and could theoretically function in the story itself, I feel absolutely lost.

Which is also the reason why I’m struggling right now with FDD Chapter Eight, because Marcy’s reaction to Yunan keeps eluding my grasp!

16) What are your writing weaknesses?

I overthink a lot. Concise prose is great but I force myself to get all fancy and massive with details since I’ve got to unless I want a specific part to be so quick and unmeaningful, and this leads to pacing issues or just not enough intended time for people to breathe in the fic itself.

17) What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

I need to get a beta to make sure I don’t sound like an asshole, haha. I do love other languages, they are beautiful and can add a lot towards an audience who does know the language itself, but it depends on the work I’m doing.

18) What was the first fandom you wrote for?

That would be uhhhhh, my memory is lacking but Minecraft. The whole videogame had a wish fulfillment atmosphere to it, and since I got rather obsessed by how anything could happen in the engine itself I went with it.

19) What’s your favorite fic you’ve written?

When it comes to me, my own perception of my art changes day to day. Back when I first posted the Lapidot fic I thought it was the best thing I’ve ever done even though now, with the knowledge I have from workshops and betas, that the style I drafted had a lot of grammar and prose mistakes that I wouldn’t make in the future. It is pretty subjective, but for now I think the best fic I could look at right now would be amestrian catcher (set something ablaze).

Thank you Calamity once again for this! And I’ll be tagging @resplendent-chungus, @aanau, and @golddragon387!

[marjansmarwani]

for the fic ask game- ✄♡∞★ for the Teacher AU- I’ve said this before but it’s my absolute favorite of your stories and I’d love to know more ☺️💙

Thank you! I love that fic too (so much) and I apologize if these are vague, I am only just now realizing it's been a long time since I read it and even longer since I wrote it so it's not fresh in my mind.

You Can Learn to Love (Again) aka Teacher AU

✄: something i deleted before the final draft

I don't know if it even made it out of the outline stage, but the only thing I can think of is the fact that at first I was considering having TK and Carlos being rivals. But the more I thought about it the less I wanted to do that and frankly, work rivals don't happen all that much between teachers. You're pretty much all in it together, or the person you can't stand is an asshole or not a good teacher. And neither of those things fit TK or Carlos, so I'm glad I cut that.

I think I also had more with Judd and more procedural stuff, but no one really needed to read about the actual day to day nitty gritty so I decided to focus more on the story than the details.

♡: my favorite part

It's absolutely the scene in TK's apartment where he decides to take a chance and open up to Carlos.

Honorable mention to any of the team scenes though, I love a work fam.

∞: something i wish i’d done differently

I really don't know. It's been a while so it's not super fresh in my mind, but I'm certain there is some wording I would probably fix given another year of practice. I feel like I maybe could have done more with the Seth storyline, especially in part 2, but overall I am really happy with the fic!

★: something i’m proud to have accomplished

Just writing it! It wasn't something anyone requested, it was something I wrote because I wanted to. It took me a long time but it was a true passion project and I am so pleased to have finished and posted it. I am also proud to have contributed to some secondary ed content because, as a high school teacher, I always feel that secondary ed is under represented in these kind of fics (is that just a me thing? very likely). Not to mention writing a sequel and planning out a third installment! I'm just happy I wrote something solely for me, and even happier that so many other people seem to love it too.

fic questions

[volturi-stuff]

Escape Plan

Demetri Volturi x Reader

Requested @volturi-coven

Ummm, maybe Demetri’s mate does not totally take the relationship thing seriously or sum. Or the mate doesn’t really like the idea of being locked up in her room, and his mate escapes.... here is somethings idk 😂

Warning: Angst, kinda made the reader an asshole,

A/N: I'm sorry, I had to add a bit, everything I write has to like, have a happy ending! Hope you like it. I also can't Queue, or draft anything so, I'm posting them as I write them.

You felt as if, Demetri really didn't love you. He was forced to, the whole mate thing. You also 'had' to stay in your room all the time. Which you hated, and you were a little afraid of him. You of course never told Demetri any of these things, you didn't know how he would react.

You thought about escaping, but today you've had enough. You packed and walked out of your room, and down the hall, you made sure to be as quiet as possible. However, right as you came to the front door, you saw Demetri, with a group of people. He had a kind smile on his face as he looked at you, when he saw your bags, he frowned.

"Is she?" You heard someone say,

"No, she is Demetri's human mate. She's escaping." The one with glistening skin like Demetri's, said, but he had gold eyes.

"Cara Mia, where are you going?" Demetri asked. You felt panicked.

"I'm leaving." You answered. Demetri gently pulled you away from the group and over to the wall.

"Why? Why are you trying to escape? There is no need for escaping, if you wanted to live in a apartment, I would have gotten it for you, I didn't think I was a bad mate." Demetri said with a sad look in his eyes.

"I'm escaping from you. I'm scared, and I'm always locked in my room." You yelled.

Demetri looked as if you hit him with a bullet. "I love you, I wouldn't hurt you." Demetri mumbled, he stumbled away from you, "Y-youre scared of me." He whispered. You felt bad.

"That's not real love." You mumbled. The glistening vampire from the group stepped in, I think he felt bad for Demetri.

"No, a mate is true love. I should know," He said pulling a human girl into his side. "Bella is my mate. She's human, just like you. I'm sure Demetri feels the same way about you, the way I feel about, my Bella." He said.

You stood there completely shocked. You looked back at Demetri, he was sitting on the steps with his head down. Demetri wasn't the monster, you were.

You walked over to him, and sat next to him on the stairs.

"You could have come to me, told me about this. I would have gotten you another place to live, or you could have told me about you not wanting to be in your room, I would have taken you out more. I'm a terrible mate, and for that Cara Mia, I'm deeply sorry." He said with glistening eyes.

"No, I'm the monster here, not you." You said.

"You are not a monster, Y/N. You are scared of me, I understand. I would be too, it's not your fault, you thought of leaving as escaping. But I didn't kidnap you. You are free to go, if it makes you happy." Demetri mumbled.

"I want to be with you, truly, I just don't want to be treated like a prisoner." You said, with tears in your eyes.

Demetri looked up, and wiped your tear away as it fell, "Please don't cry, I'll move you out." Demetri mumbled.

"I still want to be with you, though. Maybe somewhere in Volterra." You muttered.

"If you aren't happy being with me, you don't have to be." Demetri mumbled. But the true thought of actually leaving Dem forever, hurt your heart.

"I want to be, you have a kind heart, and I'm realizing this now." You said with a small smile.

"I truly love you." Demetri said.

"I love you too." You said, saying I love you for the first time, you ment it.

****

Demetri moved you into your apartment, it's been two months, and you couldn't be happier.

At this moment, you were laying on the couch with Demetri's head laying on your stomach as you watched friends.

You leaned down, and pressed a kiss to his head, "I love you." You whispered.

"I love you more." Demetri said as he nuzzled his head into you.

He was a good mate, you wished you knew that sooner.

[allthefilmsiveseenforfree]

Wonder Woman 1984

The first 3/4 of 2017’s Wonder Woman was my favorite film of that year. The last 1/4 was my least favorite film of that year. What can I say, I have a complicated relationship with the DCEU, and the part I keep getting disappointed by is the big smash-em-up, explosions everywhere, muddy mess of orange/blue filter in the “climactic showdown” between hero and villain. I just don’t have the patience for it anymore, and I was so hoping that the Jazzercise vibes of Wonder Woman 1984 would do something different. 

As it turns out, this movie was trying to warn me like so many stories that have come before - be careful what you wish for. Just how badly did my wish go bad? Well...

I’d already heard some questionable things about the movie before I tuned in, so my expectations were tempered but I guess it was on me. I should have known better than to wish for a story with reasonable pacing, some kind of consistent tone, villains with discernable motivation, or a Wonder Woman movie that was actually about fucking Wonder Woman. I’m not even mad as much as I am puzzled. That and tormented by Pedro Pascal’s manic televangelist energy in my dreams. 

Some thoughts:

I have never wanted to go anywhere as much as I want to in 2020, and the place I want to go more than any other is Themyscira. Love this first sequence. Why is the whole movie not about Themyscira??

If the Olympics were like this whole long Amazonian warrior triathlon, I would be WAY more into track and field. 

Also I legit don’t understand the problem with her taking the short path? Like, it’s there for a reason? She just caught up to her horse? Someone explain this to me.

So this mall...basically the hub of American commerce in the 80s that was practically printing money, it made it so fast...is secretly a front for antiquities trading on the black market? And these unorganized-ass dipshit criminals who seemingly just walked in off the street and decided to engage in some light robbery today are after antiquities? Sure, Jan.

Ohh I miss Waldenbooks so much!

This thwarting of crime sequence in the mall feels so...cheesy. Schlocky, almost. Like a 50s comic book come to life. I dunno, it just doesn’t feel like the tone I was expecting. In the context of the whole film, we really blew our action load in these first 2 sequences, and also this is the last point in the movie in which Diana actually resembles her character from the first film.

I would also be stammery and blushy when talking to Diana Prince for the first (and second) time, but I’m kinda getting a gay vibe from Barbara. This meet-cute + date is definitely playing up romantic vibes. Kristen Wiig is so good at characters like these - in less than 2 scenes, I have such a clear picture of who Barbara is, what she wants, what she fears, and that’s all down to Wiig’s choices. [ETA: This makes it all the more infuriating when Barbara suddenly is like “I want to be an apex predator” when nothing about her character’s reaction to getting positive attention indicates she would want to start shitting all over everyone else.]

Pedro Pascal is skeeving me out as our villain Max Lord, which really just shows his range, because normally I love him and find him wildly charming in everything. But he’s playing this oil baron creep to the max, as they would say in the parlance of the 80s, and it makes my skin crawl. 

The mechanics of how Steve Trevor returns are wildly confusing. Why is this other guy involved at all? Are we supposed to be ok with the idea of Diana fucking *some other dude’s body* without his consent just because Steve’s spirit/consciousness/whatever is inside the guy? Also that guy DEFINITELY got fired from his job after going AWOL for a whole week, right? 

I am thrilled with Steve’s clothes montage. One of my favorite things in any 80s film, and his enthusiasm really sells it.

I do really like Diana and Steve playing detective, following clues, crafting theories. In spite of the absolute dumbassery of how Steve came back, Chris Pine and Gal Gadot have incredible chemistry and I do find their scenes together delightful. 

I think that’s why it’s so frustrating to me the way their entire relationship was handled. If the whole point of the wish going bad is that it has a cost, wouldn’t it have been better, instead of making Diana weak, to have Steve slowly start to be more and more of an asshole - aka not the Steve Diana remembered and loved? Make her realize that the Steve she knew and loved is really gone and she has to stop letting his memory hold her hostage. Maybe his last moment of self-awareness would be realizing that this wasn’t who he really was, and she was better off just remembering who he was and moving on rather than trying to hold on to this thing that isn’t good for her? 

The sequence with the fireworks made me emotional. The only time I’ve ever been on a plane on the 4th of July was when I was coming back from a visit with my uncle in Dallas. He had flown me, my mom, and my grandma down for a whirlwind trip, and we flew back the night of the 4th. I got to see fireworks from above for the first time, and it felt so magical. My uncle passed away 2 months ago, and feeling that magic again (via Diana and Steve) made me miss him and all the adventure he brought into my life something fierce.

Am I supposed to be like...anti- the idea of Barbara absolutely kicking the shit out of this drunk catcaller who attempted to assault her earlier in the movie? It feels like the film wants us to be like “oh no that’s bad” but my empathy goes on vacation for attempted rapists. 

Like...did anyone do ANY kind of fact-checking on this script? The Maya haven’t been “wiped from the face of the earth” there are still 6 million of them living in Central and South America. Escalators were invented in the 1890s for fucks’ sake. PLANES IN THE 80S DONT WORK LIKE PLANES IN 1918. YOU DON’T KNOW WHAT ALL THOSE SWITCHES DO STEVE. Also...just because the plane is invisible doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist anymore. Isn’t the whole point of radar to detect things that you can’t, y’know, SEE? Seriously, how many people fiddled with this script until it turned into an incomprehensible mess?

Did I Cry? OK yeah, I did when Diana and Steve had their conversation after they escaped the White House. But I feel like I should have cried more then, as well as earlier when Diana tells Steve that she only wants this one thing. I love Gal Gadot in this role, but I do wish her acting expressed a little more emotional depth and honesty for the moments like this that should really tug on the heartstrings.

I know Wonder Woman is bulletproof, but are we saying she’s also...immune to electricity? 

If there’s one thing that living through a global pandemic has taught me, it’s that we can’t rely on the inherent responsibility of every individual person to do the right thing in order to save their community (or the world). So the climax of this film really feels like a big ol’ fictional FUCK YOU to every person who has been quarantining since March as the US government twiddles their thumbs and relies on personal choice to lower infection rates. I know they made this film during 2019 and had no idea what would be coming, but this entire sequence was the most horrifying, short-sighted, offensive way to have good overcome evil I could imagine for a 2020 movie. “Just count on people to do the right thing and everything will be fine!” We’re WELL FUCKING PAST THAT, Diana. 

And maybe this is my debbie downer pessimistic ass, but the message “the world is a beautiful place the way it was” feels like some real bullshit. Do you mean the world is a flawed, complicated place where beautiful things exist DESPITE all the violence, inequality, and poverty? Ok, that I’ll buy, for sure. But “Everything was fine the way it was!” is uhh not what I would have gone with. That’s a first draft edit if ever I heard one. Seriously, how did this make it through MULTIPLE studio drafts and no one thought to point this out?  

I literally had to go back after the credits were over and rewind to figure out what happened to Pedro Pascal at the end. If I not only don’t care, but also can’t remember what happened to the villain at the end of the movie, that’s a big motherfucking problem.

I was giddily delighted by that first post-credits scene though! Probably the biggest moment of joy I felt during the film.

For being a Wonder Woman movie, it feels like there’s so little actual Wonder Woman IN the movie. The first film is rooted firmly in Diana finding her place in the world, understanding and coming into her power. This feels like she’s a bystander in her own life, and her most significant moments are always in the context of someone else’s narrative arc. And there’s nothing that comes even close to the breathless wonder of that No-Man’s-Land scene, aka one of the best superhero movie moments of all time. 

This doesn’t have the knowing wink of Aquaman or the nuanced character arcs of Birds of Prey. It doesn’t have the childish glee of Shazam! or any of the nonsensical grimdark bullshit of Zack Snyder’s entire ouvre. It feels like Wonder Woman 1984 suffers the same fate as its protagonist - a profound lack of presence or drive. Sure there are some fun sequences, and the actors are doing the best they can with a weak script, but it’s just not enough to save it. In a year where I saw so few contemporary films (focusing more on catching up on past films I’d missed), I can’t think of one that disappointed me more. 

[willowistic22]

Hey :)

For your post concerning Ikeshot - would you maybe consider writing an Ikeshot Soulmate AU during the canon era?

Thanks in advance

left this in my drafts for the whole month bcs i was doing no content november which was definitely not used as an excuse of me not wanting to fight off my writers block heheheheheheheh spoiler alert : it was. but i got around to write this one so i hope it suffice! i mean i hope so bcs it ended up being 2.5k words long lol! 

So pls enjoy my canon era ikeshot soulmate au! the concept is where soulmate marks are in the form of the first things your soulmate says to you when you guys meet. also ik this will kinda flop since it’s a rarepair but pls do your best to not let it flop :) 

Ike doesn’t like the thought of soulmates. Not one bit. Well, at first he liked the idea of having someone out there waiting for him. He doesn’t need a mark of any kind to tell him that. He knows it on his own terms. But there was a little bit of excitement that exploded in his stomach when his soulmate mark appeared on his forearm. And it was… weird to say the least. 

He got his mark a year earlier than his twin brother, right on their 13th birthday. A delicate black writing engraved in the skin of his forearm. The soulmate mark stories he has ever heard were about people with sweet sayings engraved in their skin. It was all romantic, innocent, and soft spoken words tread lightly by the lips of their lover to be. But Ike’s? It was downright strange. None of those sappy and sweet stuff people say when the subject is about soulmates. Which is why Ike never bothered showing it off. He has heard enough jokes from Mike about that text. 

And here’s the kicker for his situation: despite getting his soulmate mark a year earlier, Mike was somehow granted the gift of getting a sweet soulmate line and meeting his soulmate first! That really pissed Ike off. 

He’s left with his thoughts on that subject this evening, carefully holding up his forearm while he lies on the top bunk he and his brother call their own. The words on his forearm echoes inside of his brain as he strokes the ink on his skin, blocking out the loud Lower Manhattan lodging house. He’s bound to meet his soulmate eventually. He’s sixteen for crying out loud! Mike met his when they were fifteen. So this mysterious soulmate of his has to turn up any time now. They have to. Ike doesn’t know how much longer he can keep himself entertained with stringless flings and flirtings with random guys in secret. 

Ike sighs desperately, dropping both his arms above his head and onto his thin pillow. He wished he was tired enough to go to sleep already since he doesn’t have anything to do before the lights go out in the lodge. He peaks down towards the lower bunk. Ike sees his brother fast asleep, cuddled into his lover’s embrace. Two chests, rising and falling at their own different slow pace. 

It’s not that Ike ever had a problem with Mike’s soulmate, the only problem is that Ike hasn’t met his and constantly feels lonely with the presence of the couple. Ike didn’t believe his brother when he said his soulmate turned out to be Jo Jo. Not only is Jo Jo practically a total opposite of Mike, Jo Jo is also out of his league. There’s no way a kind hearted, properly brought up, bright smiled boy would end up with a scruffy idiot like his brother. But the more time he spends with the two, the more he sees how compatible they are with each other. 

Ike is happy that they found someone to make each other happy, even in their sleep. He’s just sad for himself that he hasn’t found the one for him yet. Third wheeling is the worst thing Ike has ever discovered in his life. 

He sits back up properly, letting both legs dangle freely down the bunk. Ike puts on his newsie cap and his vest that was left hanging on the bedpost before jumping down the bunk. 

Unfortunately he wasn’t being careful and accidentally woke someone below him from the loud thud his feet made when it came in contact with the old wooden floor of the lodge. 

“Where are you… going?” a voice groaned.

Ike turns his head towards the lower bunk to see Mike lifting his head up slightly from where it was resting, rubbing his eyes a little bit to enhance his vision. He’d sit up straight, but one of his hands is strapped down to the mattress by a certain head full of brown curls. 

“Not tired yet. Think I’ll get myself busy” Ike replied. Before turning back to his original direction, he catches his brother’s eyes before he lets himself fall back asleep again, “Got a pack?” 

Mike snorts to himself with an eye roll, but it ends with a low chuckle. He gestures his head towards his vest left hanging up high on the bedpost, “Check my vest. I’se think there’s still half in there” 

Untangling the vest from itself, Ike sees one of its pockets forming a rectangular shape through the fabric. He slips his hand in it and fishes out a pack of cigarettes. His hand doesn’t feel the usual light weight of the tiny box he usually feels after getting himself a fresh pack. This one feels so much lighter, like there’s a lot of room in it. But Ike could still feel a few stems moving inside. 

“Don’t finish the whole thing” Mike added. 

Ike simply smirks down at him, turning around with the pack in hand. He calls out, “No promises!” 

“Pay me back if you do finish it!” 

“Also no promises!” 

“Little shitter” 

Ike turns his head around, and an offended look on his face as the twins’ old inside joke has resurfaced from the past. In the calmest way possible, yet still obviously annoyed, Ike voices out, “Fuck off, alright?” 

“No promises!” 

Mike laughs at his brother’s obvious annoyance. At the same time, Jo Jo starts to stir in his sleep. He stops laughing, directing his full focus on the boy shifting in his arms. Jo Jo groans as he flips to face away from Mike, letting out a long and peaceful sigh once he gets comfortable. 

Ike watches as his brother lays back down, holding Jo Jo a little tighter than before. The couple is enveloped back by their slumber just like before. 

There’s that jealousy resurfacing in Ike’s heart as his eyes linger at the sight of the lower bunk. But despite it, he is actually happy to see Mike like this. Being happy with his soulmate doing whatever. It’s a different kind of happy. It’s the kind that Ike longs for. 

He pushes that thought away for a while, walking through the loud lodging house. Some newsies went to sleep earlier, somehow being able to ignore all the commotion caused by their friends. Some are also just hanging out with others while they wait for the lights to go out. 

Ike chooses to be alone this evening. Accompanied by a cigarette or two, and maybe his own thoughts he’d like to sort out. He’d walk out the front door downstairs to smoke in an alleyway, but he knows the downstairs are currently occupied. Jack had warned everyone to avoid going downstairs because the borough leaders are having a little meeting. 

So Ike decides on the fire escape, since it already leads directly to the alleyway. Ike slips out the window, instantly noticing the lovely evening air. His only view is a dull brick wall with trash scattered around the ground, but he doesn’t really mind as the street ambience makes him feel less lonely. 

He notes the fire escape being a little wet, since it previously did rain a bit. He nearly slipped when he first stepped on the metal bars, but was able to balance himself pretty quickly. 

But to no avail, his feet clumsily slips away from their grip on the fire escape. It sends him falling down with a loud yelp, passing through the little gap in the fencing reserved for the ladder and onto the concrete floor in the dirty alleyway. 

Ike was disoriented when he rose back up from his fall. One hand on the ground to help support his back as he recovers from the impact, and the other rubbing the pain on his head away. He realized the pack of cigarettes is long gone. What he doesn’t realize is why the fall isn’t as painful as he thought it would be. 

He glances over to his legs, which he realized just now that it was tangled with something else. Someone else. They were groaning in pain as they rose back up. He catches a glimpse of the face once it was finally lifted off the ground, smudge by a little bit of mud. 

Oh shit.

Ike fell on another boy who obviously looks like he’s twice his own size. Not that he thinks he can’t take him on in a fight if he asks for one, but right now he’s too disoriented to even figure out how to punch straight. He quickly gets up on his feet, giving the stranger some space so he can recollect himself. 

“Oh look, the universe has thrown me a little shitter from the sky to ruin the rest of my already shitty day! Is there anything you can possibly do to magically make it better?!”

The words were uttered as the stranger got back up on his feet, revealing himself to be a tall and muscled figure. The mud also got on a little strand of his dark brown hair and his eyes were squinted with fury. But Ike wasn’t focused on any physical features this stranger has. He’s more focused with the words that he uttered. Words that Ike knows by heart by now. 

“What?” The stranger growled, deep and raspy. He realized the boy was astonished by something, but was certain it isn’t in any form of fear. 

“Do you have any idea how much shit I get with that written on my hand?! It made me look like I’m a fuckin’ dumbass my whole life!” Ike started his little rant, a little bit of rage building up from the pits of his stomach, “Oh, but of course I’se stuck with a huge asshole that doesn’t know how to be a decent human being and give a guy a break!” 

The stranger stays completely still, lips slightly parted. 

“How do you think I feel with that?” 

He shows his soulmate mark on his right forearm to Ike. A smaller font size and a longer paragraph written on his skin. Ike almost wanted to laugh. 

“Hey!” 

The two boys turn their attention towards the sound. Just outside the alleyway, right on the sidewalk where the rest of the world is, three tall men stood. There isn’t enough light for either boys to identify who they are, but given from the vague shadow they can sense trouble. 

As the three men take a few steps closer, letting a little lamp stuck to the wall illuminate their figures, they reveal themselves as the bulls. 

The boys activated their flight instinct, running towards the other end of the alleyway. The bulls chased after them while telling them to stop. Ike, being the smaller one, runs ahead and leads the chase. Hopping from one sidewalk to the other, crossing the roads without looking. 

Jacobi’s deli came into view in the corner of the block, despite being unlit. Ike kept running towards that corner and took a sharp turn. He makes another sharp turn towards an alley, just next to the deli. He hides in a little corner the deli has created. He has gotten away from so many troubles by hiding in this ‘wall bump’ because people miss it easily. 

He was surprised to see a large figure stopping right next to where Ike was hiding, huffing out heavy breaths of exhaustion. Ike said nothing at first, thinking it’s one of the bulls. He simply watches the figure hunching over their knees, trying to recollect themselves from the chase. 

But after a few seconds, he realizes it was the same boy he just met at the alleyway. His soulmate. To that, he widens his eyes and gasps under his breath. 

Oh crap, if he keeps on standin’ there we’ll get caught! 

“Hey!” Ike whisper shouted. 

The boy was still disoriented from all that running, but he was still able to pick up the voice. 

He saw Ike hiding in the corner, but didn’t think much of it. To that, the smaller boy just rolled his eyes and grabbed him by his suspenders to pull him to the little corner to hide together. 

Ike peaked behind the little wall hiding them to see if the bulls that were chasing them had passed. Just as he suspected, they were clueless as to where they could be. The bulls went past the alleyway. Until Ike was sure that they’re gone, he lets out a relieved sigh and turns back to where he is.

He was surprised to be met by a chest, but soon remembered that he had another boy hiding with him. A very tall one. 

Ike looks up to his face. The details are much clearer now. Brown locks, strong jawline, brown eyes, ivory tinted face with a few smudges of ash and dirt. The face sculptured... so perfectly. 

Ike only realized this now. Staring up at it, taking in every detail before him. Cheeks a little heated up when his head realizes how close they’re being. Chest to chest and Ike is up against a wall. 

And the other boy… he stared back. Just as frozen and shocked as he is. 

“I-I didn’t catch your name earlier” Ike mustered up the last bit of concentration to get that out. 

“My friends call me Hotshot” 

“Hotshot…” Ike repeated, nodding along without getting his eyes off of him. 

“But… you can call me Tyler. Y-y’know if you… wanna use my real name” Hotshot said with a little awkward cough at the end. 

“Oh…”

Ike has no idea what’s happening right now. All he knows is there’s a cute guy right in front of his nose, who is his so called soulmate. They’re hiding in an alleyway, and neither seems to want to move away. They were both caught off guard by the beauty their eyes are being presented with in front of them. 

“I-I’m Ike, by the way…” Ike added on, realizing he hasn’t said his name yet, “It’s short for Isaac. Y’know, ‘cause my twin brother calls himself Mike and we wanted to-- y’know what? That’s too long to get into…” 

The two share a heartfelt laughter. Their hearts pumping faster than before, the other being able to feel it right through their chest. 

“So uhh… Ike…” Hotshot started, still staring down at the smaller boy, “About what I said earlier…” 

Ike started to laugh, remembering what he meant. 

“I’s want to apologize… is all” 

“Y-yeah, the same goes for me!” Ike added, “Well, I don’t know if we should even apologize. We were supposed to say that to each other anyways!” 

Another heartfelt laughter, sounding softer than the first one. It somehow made the moment even more serious as it slowly died down. Their gaze hasn’t left the other’s. Nor, does it seem like they want to in the first place. 

“Ike, can I… try somethin’?” Hotshot suddenly asked. 

Ike simply nods, not having any clue as to what he meant. The message behind that was soon cleared the moment Hotshot softly crashed his lips against his, pushing his head backwards and gently pinning it to the wall behind him. Ike moves his hands up to pull him by his suspenders. Hotshot brushes his finger on his jaw, angling him up for a better kiss. Their lips moved in sync perfectly and it felt good. Just like how they would picture a first kiss shared by a soulmate. 

[trellanyx]

your jonathan crane (who i love so very much) and numbers 1 through... oh, lets say 25 ;)

(Send me a character and a number)

Have I told you how much I love you lately, Lizard? Because I do. Oh yes I do. 😂

Word vomiting about my Jon in 3, 2, 1...

1) Something this character is truly proud of.

His work, of course. Not just the toxin, but the breadth of his knowledge, his experiments, his successes and vengeances. Jonathan is an expert in his field, and considering what he went through to get there he’s damn proud of it.

2) Who they want to please the most.

Jonathan Crane does not give a single solitary fuck about what anyone thinks of him. The only satisfaction he cares about is his own. Considering how high his standards are, that’s a big enough challenge already.

3) Who depends on them.

No one. Jon may make you think you need him if that serves his end goal, but other than that he keeps his distance. If you’re in a position where you actually depend on Jonathan Crane’s services, you’re fucked.

4) What they would do if they had one month to live.

Work feverishly to A) preserve his work and B) push it as far as it can go before his body betrays him. Jon would be pulling such long, intense hours that it’s quite possible he’d drop dead before the month was up from sheer exhaustion. If he doesn’t, then he takes his magnum opus and goes out with a hell of a bang.

5) A cherished personal belonging.

Nothing. He has things he likes more than most: a tortoiseshell watch, a spring-loaded gun, his sturdiest boots, his sharpest scythe - the whole fear gauntlet, actually, impractical as it was - but nothing he’d go as far as to say he cherishes. Everything Jon owns is expendable, and no matter how attached he might be to something, there’s nothing he wouldn’t chuck in a fire instantly if he needed to. 

6) Something they lost, but would love to have back.

“Unlimited access to test subjects wrapped in a stable paycheck. Arkham’s much more fun on the other side of the straitjacket.”

7) This character’s favorite character

I give up. It’s been days. Days that this post has sat in my drafts while I tried to think of this asshole’s favorite character, and I’ve got nothing. I’ve come up with a couple of disparate headcanons involving Jon and fiction in general, but I have no answer for this one. I offer this as a placeholder: “He doesn’t have any because he’s a contrary and insufferable bastard.”

8) What kind of car they would drive.

Dark, boring, older than sin. The gas pedal is the most abused piece of equipment in South Gotham. There’s a stain on the backseat floor that Jon says is coffee, and no one is brave enough to question him. Edward refuses to be seen dead in it. One day Jon’s gonna take that as a challenge.

9) What calms them when they are upset.

It really depends on the type of distress that it is. The basic scale is this:

Drumming his nails against things, or just tapping against the nearest flat surface if his nails aren’t long enough. (Common response to most grievances.)

Stepping outside for a smoke. He goes back inside when he either feels better or runs out of cigarettes.

Pacing inside or stalking through the streets like he’s on his way to kill somebody, taking small, petty pleasure watching people jump out of his way.

Stewing in a corner with a bottle of strong alcohol.

Actually killing somebody.

10) How they deal with pain.

Grits his teeth and bears it. The first lesson he ever learned.

11) This character’s favorite piece or pieces of clothing.

As Scarecrow: His plague doctor mask, which replaced the traditional burlap after he stopped being able to feel fear.

As Jon: Custom winter gloves with longer fingers to accommodate his nails in the winter.

12) How they sleep.

I’ve talked about this before, actually! Here’s the quote:

Since he suffers from chronic insomnia and chronic I Have No Idea What Healthy Habits Look Like, Jonathan doesn’t go to bed very often. He’s more likely to pass out wherever he is - couch, desk, once on a morgue slab (don’t ask)… But when he does sleep in a bed, he tosses and turns a ridiculous amount. It’s not that he’s having nightmares (though with the way he moves, how could you tell), he just has a hard time getting comfortable. He’ll turn over at least 3-6 times before falling asleep, and he’ll keep shifting even after he does. It’s very common for Jonathan to fall asleep with three blankets and wake up with only one.

13) What kind of parent they would be.

*hysterical laughter* NO.

14) How they did in school.

He struggled with it a lot. Not because of a lack of intelligence or drive, but because:

Constant undernourishment and late night punishments made it difficult for Jon to stay awake in class. (His insomnia didn’t develop until he was in his early 20s.)

His homework was often late or mediocre because Jon did it after being beaten or kept busy with his grandmother’s laborious demands, if he was in a state to do it at all.

Jon’s glasses were almost never up to date. Constant squinting compounded by what Jon now knows were chronic migraines made class not only difficult to concentrate on, but physically painful.

Bullying. I don’t think I need to elaborate there.

Jon barely eked out a GPA high enough to get him into a local community college with the help of a scholarship targeted toward low-income families. Once his grandmother and bullies “helpfully” left the picture and Jon could focus on eliminating the obstacles above, he threw himself into his studies like a man possessed, and by the time he graduated, he’d secured himself entry to a post-baccalaureate program in Gotham. He used that as a stepping stone to med school and the rest is history.

15) What cologne or perfume they would use.

Jon doesn’t like either. His only indulgence in the smell department is almond-scented soap.

16) Their sexuality.

It varies depending on what version of him I’m playing, but it’s always either bi or gay.

17) What they’d sing at karaoke.

Something slow, creepy and mournful, probably not even on the set list, while he stares at you unblinking and makes you regret every decision in your life that helped force him onstage. You don’t ask for an encore.

18) Special talents they have.

Jon is double-jointed, a great whistler, sews all his costumes and is an adequate mechanic. See the “should be dead twelve times over” car he still drives. He’s also a better swimmer than people give him credit for, something that’s saved his life more than once.

19) When they feel safest.

In front of a fireplace. Jon can’t really explain it, nor does it make sense considering how much he hates heat in general. But there’s something about sitting in front of a fire that really relaxes him. (Don’t bother with the scarecrow/fire jokes, he’s heard them all.)

20) Household chore they hate the most.

Bathrooms.

21) Their fondest childhood memory.

“Killing them.”

22) How they spend their money.

Books, chemicals, caffeine, alcohol, weapons. And then living essentials. Maybe. Depends on how low he is on nicotine. (Jon’s spending habits are so predictable it became a running joke on campus, what did you expect.)

23) What kind of alcohol they drink.

He’s not picky, but nothing beats a finely aged whiskey. He’s also partial to Black Russians.

24) What they wish they could change about themselves.

Useful as it can be, Jon regrets the loss of his ability to feel fear. He also wishes he didn’t get migraines so often. Nothing on the personality front, though: Jon knows what he is.

25) What other people wish they could change about them.

Oh honey, there’s not enough hours in the day to list all that.

[flourchildwrites]

Six years after their escape to the human world, the Grace Field children live together in a happy, harmonious home. Twenty-one-year-olds, Ray, Norman and Emma, have folded themselves into modern society and work tirelessly to provide for their younger siblings, putting the greater good of their family before their personal needs. But as children turn to into teenagers, new house rules come into play. Norman, convinced that Emma will never remember their unique childhood bond, makes a bold proposition — to prohibit romantic relationships between the Grace Field children and end his hopes for something more with Emma once and for all.

Ray knows all too well how dangerous it is to reignite a spark, but for the happiness of Emma and Norman, he's always been willing to burn.

Fandom: Yakusoku no Neverland | The Promised Neverland (Manga)

Relationships/Pairings: Emma/Norman (Endgame), Emma/Ray (Fake Dating), Norman & Ray, Emma & Ray

Genre: Post-Canon (Spoilers for Anime-Only Fans), Fake/Pretend Relationship

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 12,930 words (incomplete 3/5)

A/N: Oh, hi! So it's been a while, but I have neither dropped off the face of the Earth nor given up on this fic. Sometimes, I just have to wait until I'm in the right state of mind to write a chapter. Until next time....

Chapter 3

The cuckoo clock on the wall of Norman’s study is an ornate piece of artistry.  It does its job fashionably and without complaint, keeping time with as much precision as its pendulum can muster.  Norman likes to lose himself to the details of the carved wood.  The dancing animals and crisp steeples that surround the clock face never fail to interest him when his thoughts turn sluggish at the end of the day.

Norman would happily wile away his evening hours waiting for the clock’s melodic chime to sound at the top of the hour, but this is not the gift’s purpose. Instead, it is meant as a constant reminder that time itself is a precious commodity.  Mike Ratri gave him the clock upon his admission to law school.  And though Norman’s enthusiasm for the present has dissipated, he cannot disagree with the principle behind the clock’s coded message.

Time can be a beautiful, but unforgiving mistress; yesterday’s opportunities are lost in the past, gone forever.

Perhaps, Norman muses, for his next graduation, he will receive a high-end watch from the Ratri clan.  Then he, along with his time, will be literally and figuratively shackled to the course the family’s scion has mapped out for him.  Norman knows he is regarded as the best of the bunch, the poster child amongst the extraordinary children born and raised in the demon world.  Ever rational, he cannot disagree with that conclusion.

Still, he rakes a finger under the collar cinched around his neck to loosen his tie and fusses with the first few buttons of his pressed shirt.  The emblem of Lambda 7214 peeks out from underneath the scoop neck of his undershirt, and not for the first time, Norman traces the tattoo’s hard lines where they are exposed.  Compared to this marking, the numbers on his neck are practically forgettable.

Norman isn’t like the other Grace Field children, not since Peter Ratri’s malicious experiments.  Neither can he lump himself in with the other Lambda survivors.  Though Barbara never shies away from advocating for the latter.

“Are you even listening?”  Barbara’s voice is shrill as it comes from the cellphone wedged between Norman’s shoulder and ear.

In the background, he can hear boxing gloves rhythmically pound against a punching bag.  Norman doesn’t like lying to Barbara; he knows what the woman is capable of when she’s feeling feisty.  But after hearing the juicy gossip from the younger children in his house, concerning a date between two certain someones, Norman’s mind refuses to focus on administrative matters.  Still, he tries to soldier on as if nothing is amiss.

“Of course,” Norman fibs.  “You’re concerned about the benefit, just like you are every year.  And every year, it turns out fine.  We get our funding; the Ratri family keeps their moral high ground.”

The sound of hard punch startles Norman, and Barbara pauses, slightly winded, before responding.  “But the problem is that they want Zazie to attend this year.  Zazie!”

The thought causes Norman to pause.  He is wont to recall Zazie as he once was — a child stuck in an overgrown body with a paper bag hiding his face and twin swords strapped to his back.  But Zazie, like his brothers and sisters, has grown into his shaggy hair, and in his case, his mental strides are much more impressive.

“What does Zazie think about attending the benefit?”

Barbara scoffs.  “He’s fine with going for a little while as long as he isn’t on his own, but why should he waste his precious words on that family ?  They don’t fund his therapy out of charity; they pay for it because his hardships, all our hardships, are their fault.”

Normally, Norman would play devil’s advocate.  He would remind Barbara that Mike isn’t like Peter and point out that most of the advances made on behalf of the cattle, Lambda and farm children are funded by the donations of the benefit’s attendees.  But tonight, Norman has no such fight in him.  He has four cases to read and brief, an argument to draft for his legal writing class and a Ray-and-Emma-shaped problem that seems to become more bizarre by the minute.

“I’ll talk to Mike and see if we can defer Zazie’s involvement,” Norman capitulates, rubbing at his neck as his to-do list grows longer.  “He may look like an adult, but he’s still a teenager.  It can be easy to forget.”

There’s a pregnant pause on the other side of Norman’s cell phone connection.

“Are you feeling alright, boss?”

A part of Norman wants to laugh, a great big belly laugh that would draw the kind of attention the household head does his best to avoid.  Of course, he isn’t alright.  It was a relief when he first made the decision to impose a fraternization ban, but then, Ray went and asked Emma out just to spite him.

Clever, impulsive asshole.

How could Norman go through with it after that?  Either he would have seemed like a heartless roadblock or a jealous cockblock to his siblings.  And neither alternative comes close to the truth, an inconvenient conundrum that’s been eating away at him for years.

Norman exhales, long and slow, and because he can ordinarily be (somewhat) honest with Barbara, he doesn’t lie to her this time.  He won’t divulge the whole, messy truth.  For that, he wouldn’t even know how to begin.  Heavy the head that wears the crown, or in this case, Norman thinks it’s more along the lines of a cape.

“No,” he responds, “I’m not alright.  But I’m sure I’ll be fine after exams.  I just need some time to rest and get my head on straight.  No need to be concerned.”

There’s a flurry of movement coming from Barbara’s side of the connection, and when she speaks again, her voice sounds unflinchingly clear. Norman braces himself when he realizes she’s paused her evening workout and taken herself off speakerphone.

“Far be it for me to suggest that you shouldn’t be living with the Grace Field kids, but you’re also one of us — a Lambda experiment.  We have different needs, and Lambda House could provide you with much more support or at least a break from being in charge.  Come live with us and let someone else run things over there.  We all miss you, boss.  Maybe someone could help you for a change.”

A lump sticks in Norman’s throat, and he swallows it, ready to make excuses that never arrive.  Words fail him for the umpteenth time in a handful of days.  Suddenly hot, he scratches the back of his neck and shrugs off his collared shirt entirely.  The top of his Lambda 7214 tattoo remains on full display.  Sometimes, he hides it so well that he begins to believe his own lies, but there are moments when the truth corrodes his carefully constructed facade.

Norman may be the brightest child from the demon world, but he’s also damaged goods, marked in ways that Ray (for example) is not.

He could live at Lambda House.  Correction, he should live at Lambda House to better avail himself of the on-call therapists for his night terrors and have his medication managed with more regularity.  But then, there would be no reason for Norman to oversee the Grace Field children’s home.  He wouldn’t be able to drag himself down to breakfast each morning to find her, Emma, sipping her coffee and joking around with the younger children, or feel his heart flutter when wishes him well in the evenings.

Norman stays because she’s worth all the small inconveniences and then some.  The time in between, the numbing hours spent studying, problem-solving and balancing the books, are a means to an end.  Emma always tips the scale in Grace Field’s favor.  Even with an anti-fraternization rule, Norman doesn’t expect his feelings to change.

Nevertheless….

“I’ll think about it,” Norman hears himself say, and he ends the call promptly with promises to be in touch soon simply to put the matter to rest.

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