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hidden-poet · 10 months ago

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Commander Snow

Summary; Under the advice of Dr Gaul Coriolanus returns back to district 12 where without blinding light of lucy-grey he could see you.

Warnings; dead dove to do not eat, stalking, unrequited love, breeding kink, violence, possessive!Snow, unco/dubco, sexual content, she/her pronouns, explicit.

chapter one

Chapter two

Chapter three

chapter Four

You got the shoe back to the grieving mother. Helped her bury it before you got home and rested your tired eyes.

It was over. He let you leave.

But a pestering feeling told you that it wasn't true. That instead you had just painted a target on you back.

You walked to work the next morning with the same feeling. You tried to shake it. Peacekeepers would have knocked down your door last night if he ordered. He wasn't going to grab you now. It was over.

But as you saw you boss guarding the entrance to work, you knew it wasn't.

You tried to pass her anyway. maybe commander Snow had taken the Panems back off her and all she wanted from you was payback.

You reach the bottom of the steps but your boss blocks the entry to your work. Dread pools your stomach. Without this job, you and your mum don't eat.

She was only 5-foot but her fiery personality, and dark features made up for her short frame.

"I never thought you were stupid" she spat.

"I've got to get to work".

She steps forward to stop you, "You already know there's no work here for you".

"Six years I've worked for you. Never turned up late. Never took a day off. And now with a click of his fingers you wanna toss me aside? I never thought you were a coward". You snap back.

In the six years you worked for her you never rose your voice at her. Always gave in to her demands to work late, do something outside of your job description.

"Anyone not a coward to Commander Snow is dead. You're looking to end up the same way".

"Commander Snow!" you heard a voice holler from behind the door. She popped her head out to show Vanessa. She was a pretty girl with long red hair and blue eyes.

"I heard you were receiving parcels from a peacekeeper but from Commander Snow! God. I'd let that man root me for free".

"Get to work" Your boss snaps, and Vanessa disappears behind the screen doors. Her laughter following her.

Now sensing sympathy for her loyal worker, your boss takes the journey down the steps coming up beside you, and placing her hands on your shoulders.

''Can i give you a piece of advice; men love the chase but hate the catch''.

You pull back from her stunned that she would suggest such a thing to you.

"It could be worse" She continues, "Uglier men. Men who take with nothing in return. He could prove to be useful to your survival".

You shake your head no. You had never even flirted before. You were so timid, you needed someone gentle and kind for your first time. Coriolanus Snow was no such man.

Your boss nods back understanding your temperament.

"Maybe he will bore" She tries.

"He will". Your voice was shaky and unsure.

"Good luck until then". Your boss turns from you and walks back up the stairs.

You feel your chest tighten as you turn and walk home. You still had two panams that would keep the house afloat for at least two months on a stingy budget.

But you were unsure how much patience that the commander had. Could he outlast you. Would his infatuation run you dry in time. What then if not?

Your mother wage could cover the rent but not much more. You had a few candles, a few sellable things. But who would buy them for what they were worth. Had Coriolanus got the message to all the community that you were to suffer.

You move past people in the opposite direction going to work as you walked. You kept your head down ashamed until you made it to your gate.

Only the opened letterbox lifted your sprits. You reach in pulling out a thin letter with a re-attached capital seal. Your brother had always been resourceful and smart. The letter would not have even left district 8 if not for the seal.

You peel it off carefully, planning to re-attach it once you had enough money to send the letter back.

The letter itself did nothing for your confidence.

The first line demanded to know why your letter had a capital seal. He called you silly if you stole it, and stupid if you traded for it. He reprimanded you for sending the coins which he sent back. He was fine in district 8 and didn't need any help. You only had one job; look after yourself and look after mum. It seemed to him you were failing, consorting with Peacekeepers. If he was still around he would smack you until you saw sense. Stay away from Peacekeepers and look after yourself, the last line read,

I love you, Archie.

You fold the letter, keeping the coins in your hand. He always knew what to do even if he had no idea about the circumstances. You thumb the place where your ring was suppose to be, wishing you fought harder to keep it.

The door was already unlocked as you reached it and you called out surprised.

"Mum?".

You hear cries coming from her bedroom and you rush to get to her.

"Mum!" you call again.

"Bernard fired me" She sobbed on her bed. You sit on the edge and pat her back.

"Mum, I am so sorry. This is all my fault".

She doesn't deny it but places a warm hand on your knee.

"We're going to be ok. It won't last forever" You console. You were going to beat him at his own game. You could endure, you've been doing it all your life.

"Look what Archie sent" You showed her the coins in you palm. She smiles at you through her tears and you smile back.

You would endure.

He would bore.

You hold your Saturday market stall using the last of your ingredients.

You had only just started but sold four cakes already. You smile brightly at your customer passing him the brown bag. But he doesn't take it, scurrying off.

The Peacekeeper coming up explains it. He picks up a cake and expects it before throwing it to the ground. Four more peacekeepers come up, and start going through your things.

You stand still with the bag pressed to your chest. You wanted to protest but interfering with peacekeeper work was punishable by whip.

You watch as they turn violent. Throwing over your table and stomping on the baked goods. They kick at your things until they break.

You watch them as he watched you.

You hadn't realized he was there until one of the peacekeepers addressed him asking what was to be done about your money box.

His blue eyes remained on you. "Take it".

All of your days profit and your change was taken.

He stands tall in his commanders uniform, his hat upon his head, and hands in his pocket as the peacekeepers left a mess.

You stare at each other until he calls them off. There was nothing left to destroy. Their time there was now wasted.

He takes a step to you as they went back to the van through the parted audience.

You expected him to say something as he nears but his lips never parted. Instead he takes the brown bag from your hands and follows his men to the van.

You stare at your ruined things but don't cry. It was going to take more than that.

You were going to endure.

You got some work on the side doing laundry. Your clients underpaid you and you had to deliver in the dead of night, but the supplement income took the pressure off.

You had to rebuild your stall, but now that word got out that Commander Snow had it out for you everything tripled in price. No one was willing to be labeled a traitor by him for the going rate of materials.

Food was also tripled. But you didn't tell your mother that. Choosing to tell her you had a reduced appetite given the circumstances.

You had found a macadamia tree behind a row of houses to pick from. You went late afternoon to avoid being seen as you tried and fill your belly.

You stood there now. Plucking the small nuts off the large tree. You had to climb the base, already have taken the lower hanging offerings. You deshelled some, putting them in a pouch for the walk home.

You had been there for nearly an hour but your basket was only a quarter full. It would take another hour to crack all the nuts out of their shells before you could eat them to your full. Your belly ached at the thought.

"Careful you don't fall". Your foot slipped at the voice.

There was no one around to watch you pick the nuts so no one around to hear you scream.

"What did I just tell you" He scolded.

You look down from the tree to see him staring back. He had you crawling higher up but he caught your foot and tugged you gently down. As you lowered yourself he held the deseeding body part as if he was tugging down on a rope.

First your ankle, then your calf, your thigh, your hip, the your upper arm before finally resting on the side of your neck.

In his other hand he held a capital issued duffle bag, and his fingers curled around an apple.

You push off the tree away from him and he lets you.

"What do you want" You ask.

"I heard you were washing laundry" he threw the duffle bag at your feet, "I'll pay double what everyone else is paying".

"I am booked out" you lied. As the series of events escalated people were too scared to even cheat you of work. You had lost two clients just yesterday.

"a trade then" he smiles and it puts you more on edge, "an apple for 10 minutes of your time".

He holds up the apple in his hand. You eye it hungrily. It was red and large, looking juicy in his hand. But you couldn't bare the thought of spending a minute in his presence let alone 10.

"5 minutes" you try.

He smirks, brining up the apple to his teeth and taking a large bite.

"10" he resolves, chewing the apple.

He could see how hungry you were. Your eyes never leaving the apple.

You nod slowly, walking up and taking the apple from his hand. You retreat as soon as you take it, going back to your place.

"You look tired. Have you been sleeping?".

You were right the apple was juicy and delicious. He waits for your answer, not moving on.

"Hard to sleep when you're hungry". You take another bite of the apple, avoiding where he bit.

'You miss my packages" He said it as more a statement then a question. He said it pridefully as if he was proud that you were starving without him.

"Not even a little bit, Sir". it was the truth. The care packages scared you more then anything.

"I miss my job, I miss my stall".

Your answer perplexed him. His strong features locked, and his body tensed.

"Yes, well self-inflected" he dismissed.

You were finally forced to eat the side he bit and he watched with eager eyes as you did.

"Will you sit?" he gestures to the steps of the old house. There was only three of them but they were long and looked stable.

You do take a seat and he follows you.

Once seated, he places his head on your lap, laying down along the step. It causes you to jump up and he lift his head in an uncomfortable position as his cushion jumped away.

He sits back up on the step and reaches for something in his breast pocket. He pulls out a peanut chocolate candy bar. They were popular in the capital and Tigress thought he might want to try them in her care package she sent.

He had no interest but knew you would.

"Here you want this?" it was wrapped in shiny plastic, "All you have to do is sit and let me rest".

You shook the feeling off and returned to your seat. If he tried anything you could just move again.

You tear open the bar, ripping it in half and putting the remainder in your pocket for your mother.

he rests his head down and lays quietly.

"todays the anniversary of my mothers death. Both her and my sister died in child birth together".

he had wanted some condolences. Maybe for her to stoke his face and tell him to sleep.

But she scoffed at him. "last week was the anniversary of little leo lerman's pa. It will always been the day you hung him".

Little Leo Lerman's pa was a traitor to the capital, his mother was a victim of the war they started.

"I've had a long journey back from the Capital. If you can't be kind, you can be quiet".

"I thought you were away" you comment.

"I went back to the Capital for a few days. Returned this morning".

A funeral for a old academy school mate required him to return home. He had to look in touch with Capital matters. But truth being told, he never cared for the man who died. Couldn't remember even talking to him, only ever speaking over him in class when he gave the wrong answer. He was used once more to make Coriolanus look good.

He was glad to see Tigress and Grandma'am too. They both swooned over commander Snow in his uniform. It was nice to be doted over but still didn't itch the need he had. If anything it only grew it.

He longed to return to you. He had hopped that his effort were enough and he would return to you begging for his forgiveness.

Hearing you now noticing his absence gave him a renewed confidence that you would fold sooner rather than latter.

You had only noticed his absence due to the halting of your suffering. No more being stopped and searched by every peace keeper who crossed your path. The 10pm door knocking to check you were home stopped. People even began to talk to you again. You were beginning to think it was over until moments ago.

You chew on the candy, looking around to see even a shadow of a person.

"I heard a rumor while you were gone that you were a peacekeeper in district 12 before commander".

"Most Commanders are Peacekeepers first."

Your hand clutched the railing ready to pull yourself up. But first your gnawing question had to be answered.

"And that while you were a peacekeeper you ran about with a girl named Lucy-grey". His eyes shoot open upon her name. dead and still ruining his life.

"Expect Lucy-grey went missing, and no one's heard from her since".

He sits up and leans against his knees, "It's just a rumor".

You jump back to your feet now the weight of him was off you. Getting as much distance as you can. He reaction confirmed it for you.

"I don't want to disappear" you admit, your eyes tearing up. Your family would never recover. Especially your brother.

He gets up with you, closing the space you created and taking your face into his hands despite your struggle against him.

"And you won't, okay. I never even knew Lucy-grey".

He was going to find whoever told you about her and string them up.

He could see the panic in your eyes, and he wanted to stamp it out.

"It's just a district rumor" he consoles.

The look in his eyes told you the truth.

"No it ain't".

You pull free from him, grabbing you basket as he stood frozen.

"i owe you an apple". You try and move past him, unable to spend any more time in his presence but he grabs your arm and flings you back into the macadamia tree.

You gasp as you make impact. It was a beautiful sound to Coriolanus's ears. He would have enjoyed it if he hadn't been so angry.

"Who do you think you are walking away from me?" his hands reach your throat applying pressure. It wasn't enough to cut your air supply completely off but it was enough to make it difficult to breathe.

You struggle underneath him, trying to push him off.

"I am Commander Snow, you are district scum. You think i am going to let district scum treat me this way?"

His hold tightens as he shakes you a little bit.

"Are you mad? bringing up lucy-grey. mocking the death of my mother."

this was not his sweet girl that plagued his mind.

"Get off me!" you scream at him with all the breath you had left.

His hand comes down. One-two-three times across your face. Tears fill your eyes from the stinging sensation but he doesn't relent.

This was the man who ruled district 12. He wouldn't have to make you disappear he could just leave your body were it laid.

Your hand reaches out, touching his neck and it stilled him from his rage.

"Stop" you beg, "I am sorry. I didn't mean to".

You feel his fingers loosen from your neck, and you take gasps of air while you can.

"I am sorry" you say again and his hands rest on your collar bone rather then your neck.

He lifts one hand up stoking your cheek,

"That bruise will never heal if you keep this up".

"I know". You wrap your hands around his wrist. He seems receptive to your touch.

Keeping his hands on your collar bone he rests his forehead on you.

You needed to get away from him. His temper flared so quickly, you were sure to make a mistake that would lead to his hands reaching for your neck again.

If codling kept him kind then you were going to lay it on thick until you were back to safety.

You rub his back like he was a child, while your other arm laid across his shoulders.

He presses further into you, moving his hands so there wrapped around your waist.

It looked like a lovers embrace but you felt like a mouse in the mouth of a snake.

Commander Snow was a mummy's boy, you learnt. It seemed logical that he was trying to replace the hole she left.

"Can you walk me home?" you ask. The walk home was nearly 15 minutes but you knew of you tried to leave without him again, his anger would flare back up.

You feel his nose rubbing your skin as he nods but he doesn't move.

"come on" You urge pushing against him. He straightens, heaving off you and picking up the basket you dropped and the duffle bag he threw.

He held out his hand to you, and you take it without hesitation.

You walk behind the houses to avoid being seen together. He leads and you trail slowly behind him.

Your eyes drop with tears from the pain of your cheek. He only notices when you snuffle.

It halts him in his tracks. He turns to you, wiggling his hand free and wiping away your tears.

"Hey, I am not angry anymore" he consoles.

You nod your head, taking his hand back in yours and coaxing him forward again. You were almost home. Just a few more meters.

Night had just begin to overtake the sky as you saw your house come into view. You let go of Coriolanus hand and press yourself against a neighbors house as man covered in coal returns from work.

You had expected that he would leave you at the gate but he continues past it, staying just behind you as you reach the steps of your house.

"Thank you for walking me home, Commander". You reach for your basket but he keeps it out of your grip.

"I'll bring it in side for you".

You freeze at his words. The last thing you want is for him to enter your home were he would be given free reign to do what he wanted behind closed doors. At least out in the open you had a chance of a good Samaritan coming to your aid.

But you couldn't tell him that.

You nod instead. Unlocking your door you turn to him.

"Could you check the mail for me?"

His hand touches your elbow as he turns, "Of course".

You wait for him to open the empty mail box at the end of your house before you rush inside. Locking the door behind you. You double check the windows on the side, ensuring they are well secured.

He heard the door slam and turned back up the drive. He tries the door nob to see it locked. If he was upset he didn't show it, keeping his face emotionless.

He walks to the window where you stood, eyeing you through the glass.

"vanessa lives by the lake. House 1-02" He begins to eat the de-shelled macadamias that you planned to have for dinner.

"she's very pretty and less troublesome then me. You'll like her".

He smiles a tight smile, no longer looking at you he turns, tipping your basket as he walks back to the gate. You would pick the nuts up later for dinner.

You felt as if you won watching him walk away. You bested him today.

But he didn't want Vanessa, he wanted you.

No one was willing to have their clothes washed by you. He must have figured out your clients, and scared them into submission.

With the loss of income, you were forced to use your savings that were fleeting fast with the rising prices.

The macadamia tree was no more. He had cut it down to a stump the next day. You only had a small basket left to last you.

Your mother was depressed by the isolation of the community. She rarely left the house, unable to beg for a job any longer.

You tired to lift her spirt by using the last of your flour to make her a small cupcake. You surprised her with it after dinner.

She hadn't even taken a bite before the sound of a van pulling up was heard. You both froze waiting for what was next.

Peacekeepers knocked down the door, coming in full force in a single file.

One grabs you and pushes you against the wall while the others tear apart your house. You feel his hands upon you as he searches for valuables upon your body.

Your mother is subjected to the same treatment by another.

A tight hold on your neck kept you from turning but you could hear the house being turned over. Crashing sounds could be heard from every direction. Smashes from things being broken, sounds of cheering as they found something valuable.

One had taken your mums silver necklace that was gifted by your dad just before he died. She had beg the Peacekeeper to leave it but you knew their orders were to reek havoc.

Breaking up the sound of looting was a drill. You could see out of the corner of your eye that a peacekeeper was taking your door.

You yelled but it was drowned out by the sound.

Once it was off its hinges, the peacekeepers released you and your mum, beginning to return to their truck with the door and your valuables.

You rush to your bedroom, falling to your knees seeing that the loose floor board panels that you hid your savings under was opened.

You and your mum were officially destitute.

The open door way let the cold air and bugs in. You had put up a old blanket but it did little.

It also didn't offer you any protection from unwanted visitors.

Coriolanus walked right past the blanket into your home. You shoot up from the table. Standing in front of the hallway to block him from going any further into your home.

"what are you doing here"

"I came to see if you had changed your mind about apologizing. I thought coming to the compound might have been a little scary for you".

He takes a step forward coming across to you. His head turns as he examines the damage his peacekeepers did.

"i want my door back" you demanded.

"I want my apology". He continues to you

"an apology for what? look at my house". He backs you into the wall

"an apology for treating me so cruelly".

"get out" you demanded.

"Are you sure you want to do this? It doesn't have to be this way".

"get out of my house" you repeat.

He places a hand on the wall next to you, leaning in. You feel his hand on caressing your cheek.

"you showed me the other day what a sweet girl you can be. Must i wring it from you?".

You think about shouting for your mother. She took to lying down in her bed to starve off the cold. But you worried for her safety if you did.

His stoking hand stopped, bracing itself against the side of your face.

He leans his head closer, his lips brushing yours. You knew what was coming next, and tried to move your head out of the line of attack.

He takes a stronger hold on your chin to keep you in place, and kisses you with the same hunger as the night against the wall.

He comes back for more before he had fully pull apart his lips from yours.

'Commander Snow". Your mother voice broke his kiss, and he turns to see her in the living room.

"Ma'am" he greets.

He doesn't move from you, unashamed as your mother glares down at him.

"What an honor it is to have you in our home" She pulls out a chair at the kitchen table for him. One of three that didn't break. "Can i offer you some water".

"No thank you, Ma'am. I just came to check on your daughter".

"As you can see, she's fine. Thank you, Sir". Your mother walks to the door way, holding up the blanket, " If anything changes I will be sure to let you know. So there's no need to come back down. We would hate to keep you from your important duties".

Commander Snow scoffs at the women. She was a bad influence on you.

He turns back to you and places a quick, deep kiss on your lips before following his directions to the door.

"No trouble at all. I'll be back to ensure the safety of you both" he pins your mother under his stare as he spoke, "District 12 is a dangerous place".

"Good night, Commander" your mother voice wavers.

"Ma'am" he nods in her direction and disappears behind the sheet.

Your mother rushes to you once he goes, pulling you into her arms. You were too frozen to hug back.

You knew your mother was going to pay for her interference.

But as peacekeepers invaded your house once more and dragged her down the road. You had no idea what awaited her.

You shout at them to get off her. Hitting and pulling the Peacekeeper that had her.

People come out from their houses at the noise. Watching as the women is pulled to the town center with her daughter carrying on behind her.

You feel arms secure you to a chest and you turn expecting to see Coriolanus giving you an out only to find a faceless peacekeeper.

You beg him to let your mother go but he continues silently, pushing you along.

You watch as they lock her on the whipping post.

"Commander Snow" you yell out for the only man who could stop this but he was no where to be found, "Commander Snow".

You scream as the whip came down upon your mother.

The cries of your mother will forever be engrained in your brain. You stood helpless as you watched her be whipped unconscious. Only then was she unlocked from the post and the peacekeepers moved the crowd on.

You rushed to her as the Peacekeeper released you. You cradled her head in your lap. it was you who should have been whipped. You wished you could have taken it for her. But he knew the only way to hurt you was to hurt the people you loved.

Your friend, Lydia saw the ordeal and helped you get your mother back to the house. You didn't have anything that could help her. The best you could do was clean the blood with water which caused her to wake from the pain and put her to bed.

"it's my fault, Lydia" you cry reaching out to hold her but she retreats from you.

"I am so sorry. I can't be seen with you". she rushes back to the entry way, "I shouldn't have even helped with your mother".

You fall to your knees as you watch her leave. You were utterly alone.

Your mother is bed ridden from the pain. Unable to eat or sleep. Two nights later, you receive a letter from him. In it was two small bottles of morphling.

I have what you need. Come see me

-C

The note read.

You rush to your mother giving her the small bottle. It worked instantly to relieve her pain. You stroke her head as she sleeps.

You remember what your boss has said; men love the chase but hate the catch.

Perhaps if you let him take what he wanted it would mark the end of this torture. You wouldn't be the first women to loose your virginity to a peacekeeper. the consequences weren't worth the effort in keeping it.

Your pride lumped itself in your throat, and you forced yourself to swallow it.

The next morning you gave your mother her breakfast and second dose of morphling before rushing over to your bosses house. You knew she was the only one who would see you.

She doesn't allow you in but greets you on the front porch.

"Have you come to your senses?" she asks.

"He whipped my mother"

"I heard. What do you plan to do about it?".

"The only thing I can" your voice was low and soft but she heard you.

"What do you need?"

"Two cups of sugar and a cup of flour".

She goes back inside and returns with your request. You could feel her neighbors staring out at you from their windows.

She comes down to the steps to where you stood and you take the whole pouches of ingredients.

"Thank you", Your boss was not known for being generous.

"When he is done, come round and i'll pour you a drink".

You nod your head unable to form a thought.

"Oh and Y/N, relax. It will hurt less the less you fight it".

She offers a comforting hand on your back, but you shake it off quickly to return home.

You make a batch of brownies with the ingredients.

You give a small patch to your mother and box the rest up in your basket.

You had showered and prepared yourself. Putting on your nicest dress, a soft blue one that ties into a bow in middle of your back. You borrow your mother worn black high heels, and brush your hair a hundred times.

You feel your pride bubble back in your throat as you reach the compound. You have to push it back down to give the guarding peacekeeper your name.

He repeats it into his communicator and the gate swings open.

You follow the guard to the well known building to see Coriolanus waiting at the bottom step.

He dismisses the Peacekeeper as he takes your basket from you and places a hand on your back.

"Thank you for seeing me, Commander". You talk to him as he leads you to his office.

"I was going to visit tonight. Is everything ok?"

You stare at him. He was so detached from his actions.

"I wanted to apologize for my behavior".

You reach his large oak doors, which he opens for you.

"i am glad to hear it" he follows you in.

"Are these for me?" he asks looking through your basket.

"yes'' you answer.

He pulls out one of the chairs for you to sit in, choosing to lean against the desk as he eats the brownie.

"These are good" he praises, taking another bite.

"I used the macadamias".

He reaches into the basket and offers you one. You decline it.

"I don't think i could ever eat another one. It took a hundred just to keep me semi full".

He nods in understanding, putting it back. He leans forward over you as he speaks.

"one time during the war, I ate a whole jar of paste just to stop the pain in my stomach".

"that must have been awful".

he feels his heart lurch at her words. Finally sympathy. How he longed for it. For someone to care about his suffering.

But he tried to remain nonchalant. Not wanting her to think he was weak.

He shrugs his shoulders, "it was a long time ago".

He brushes his hand together, clasping them shut on his lap.

"So your apology. Lets hear it".

You thought you already had done it with the brownies but he wanted you to grovel some more.

That pesky pride bounces in your chest. But no, you wouldn't let it interfere. Your mother needed the morphling not only for the pain relief but to warn off infection.

"Commander Snow I-"

"Coriolanus" He interrupts.

"Coriolanus" you start again, "I don't know what came over me".

You don't look him in the eyes, keeping your eyes on his shiny shoes. You can't. But you can feel him looking at you.

"My actions are not reflective of the respect I hold for the capital".

The flex of his shoe tells you that he was unpleased with you apology.

"Or you". Yes, the shoe pointed back down. He wanted the focus on him.

"If you can find it in your heart to forgive me. I would never repeat my actions again. You would have my undivided loyalty for your kindness".

He stands up going to his desk chair and folding his hands on top. You eyes rise to watch him. You half expect him to pick up the phone and call a peacekeeper in.

"If you are after my forgiveness you have it. But if you are after my services there are no longer free".

You press your legs together and repeat your mantra; men love the chase but hate the catch.

It was time to be caught. You rise from your chair to stand in front of him. He angles his chair to face you. His legs brush against yours.

"My mother needs morphling". Would it be hint enough.

It seemed to be as he places his hand on your hip.

"And what do you need?". He tugs you down with his hold on your hip and you land awkwardly between his legs. You hold yourself up on the arm of his chair.

"Morphling," you answer. You face was inches away from his. The closest you've ever been without his hands wrapped around your neck.

"Maybe to not have to eat macadamias again?"

His smile throws you off guard. You find yourself dazzled by his straight white teeth poking out behind his plump lips.

"A new dress perhaps?". His hand goes to its favorite place on the side of your face and you can feel his thumb moving back and forth.

"Morphling" you repeat and it earns a laugh from him.

He loved that your needs came second to everyone else's. To his.

"Okay, morphling," he laughs, "What are you willing to trade for morphling? It's not easy to come by".

"Anything". This was it. You would loose you virgnity on the floor of the Commanders office for a case of morphling.

"hm" he muses. He picks up your right hand from the arm of the chair and wraps it around his neck. It throws you off balance.

"How about dinner?". You look at him. Maybe the floor didn't suit a man of his stature. Too animalistic.

"Where?". Did he want to go to a backroom of the hob?

"Your place".

"Tonight?". You had nothing to cook.

"Tomorrow". You still doubted your ability to find something. You doubt your boss would extend her kindness anymore, and all your friends had deserted you until it all blew over.

"do you like macadamias?". You think you still had a handful left. Did it matter. He wasn't truly coming to eat.

"They taste like paste in my mouth", he leans forward and presses a button asking someone to bring in the box.

"I'll be there around 6:30. Keep your mother in the backroom. I don't think she likes me very much".

"She can't even get out of bed" you admit.

He reaches into his draw, pulling out two small bottles of morphling.

"These won't help that but will ease the pain".

You take them fast. "Thank you".

"They aren't free. You owe me".

You jump as you hear the door open. Getting off him, just in time for a women in grey to enter with a small box. Coriolanus remains in a relaxed position in his chair.

"Commander" she greets as she places the box on the table and walks away. You peer into the box to see a small lot of vegetables, a bag of apples, two pears and a small bundle of meat wrapped up in parchment.

"For dinner tomorrow night".

He gets up from his chair taking the box with him, and directs you to the door with a hand on your shoulder.

"Now as much as I have loved seeing you. I have to get to a meeting, and you have to get home".

He leads you back through the building and down the steps to were peacekeepers were loading up into their van for night patrolling.

You buck against him as he pushes you to the van. You felt safer making your own way home.

They salute him, halting their process.

"14 Cherry lane", he nods in your direction. A young peacekeeper nods back.

He places the box on the floor of the van so he had two hands to lift you up. You protest telling him you could get home yourself but you were grabbed by a series of hands and placed on the bench

The men stood, hanging on to the material of the roof to avoid sitting down next to you. You felt safer at least knowing that they were too sacred of Coriolanus to touch you.

The leader of the group, dressed in smarter uniform comes to Coriolanus and confirms it will be done with a salute. Coriolanus pays him no mind, handing the box back up to you.

Two Peacekeepers lock the gate in and the van takes off. Coriolanus watches it go, and you watch him get smaller and smaller as you pass the boundary out of the compound.

The van ride is bumpy and silent. The men look out for protentional danger and you look out for familiar landmarks to track how far you were off.

You see a large red sign that marks the beginning of your neighborhood.

"wait, just here, please" the sound of the van would have the neighborhood looking out the window, and after tonight the judgemental looks of your negibours would be too much to bear.

The driver pulls over and the same peacekeepers unlock the gate for you. As soon as you jump out the van takes back off and your grateful for the darkness that covers you.

You walk back in your uncomfortable high heals. They snag every rock as you walk, and your ankle twists so many times you loose count.

Tomorrow night he would come, and it would all be over.

The next morning Peacekeepers come and reinstall your door. It was a welcomes surprised that earnt a few head nods from your community. It was a mark of the end. Things were returning to normal.

The new door even allowed you to trade the two pears for some pastry and 2 eggs. People were no longer afraid to do business with you.

You spend the rest of the day baking an apple pie for desert, tending to your mother who could now eat and bathe without pain, and tiding up the house for your visitor tonight.

You hopped he would bring more morphling. Your mother woke screaming in pain as a bird entered the house without the door and landed on her back. You had to give her the second bottle to ease her. But it left her dry for tonight.

Extra food would be nice too. The box only really fed a meal for two, and he had expected you to prepare dinner for him tonight with it.

You had thought about feeding your mother first and leaving a plate for him. But knew it would upset him. Dinner involved two people eating together. Instead you would only take small bites until he finished his meal and give the rest to you mother once he leaves.

You wouldn't be able to eat much with the anxiety in your belly anyway. But you assured yourself it would be fine.

He would come and take. And tomorrow morning you would go to work, and then your mothers work to earn both wages. With that and a tightened budget you could afford black market morphling, until that too was just a bad memory.

5 o'clock comes and you busy yourself with cooking and cleaning. When that was finished you dressed yourself back in your best dress and mothers shoes. Your feet cried as the shoes pressed down on the sores they made.

You stare at the clock until it hits 6:30. he didn't appear out of thin air. You wait at the table still.

It hits 6:31 and you think maybe he changed his mind. But a hard knock at the door tells you he hadn't.

You don't keep him waiting. he was an impatient man, and you also didn't want people to see him on your porch.

You yank open the door to see him standing tall in his official uniform and another small box in his hands. His smell hit you instantly. It was fresh and masculine. It was the first time you didn't hold your breathe around him, and his smell invades your nose.

Checking behind him for a peacekeeper van, you found none. Did he walk here, you wondered. But there wasn't a drop of sweat on him. It was unlikely.

"Hello" He greets.

You step back to let him in. He juggles the box in one hand while the other closes the door behind him.

'Hi" you return half-heartedly.

He offers you the box and you take it to the kitchen. He follows you like a lost dog, never allowing more then an inch between you as you walk.

'Dinner's ready. If you're hungry". You look through the box digging for the morphling, but disappointment fills you as you fail to find it.

"Starving" he responds.

He turns you towards him by your hips and smashes his lips down upon yours. he is a needy kisser, trapping your bottom lip between his teeth to stop you from moving before returning to your top lip to restart the kiss.

He pulls way breathless.

'For the morphling, yesterday" He justifies with a peck to your cheek.

What about the morphling, today, you wanted to ask but you weren't sure how he would respond to the question.

Instead you tell him to take a seat at the table and you would bring it out to him.

He sits as he is told. You set two places across from each other. One with their back to the wall leaving the other to face back from the door. Coriolanus takes a seat at the one facing the door. It allowed him to watch you in the kitchen as you plate the food.

He drags the other place mat across the table and seats it next to his. Traditional face to face dinning would not do tonight.

You come over with the plates, noticing the new arrangement. You go with it. Tonight would be about what he wanted.

"It smells amazing. Thank you". He praises.

You smile a tight smile at him. Unable to form words. Your mother would wake soon in a great deal of pain.

he watches you take small bites of your food while he demolishes his.

Your feet ache under the table, the shoes pressing hard into you. You slip the backs off, letting your heels rest on top.

The air carried a awkward silence. He was eating his food while eyeing you. You could tell he was trying to figure out why you chose to spend ten minutes eating a single potato. He knew how hungry you must be.

You needed to keep him focused on himself.

"I didn't hear a van. Did you walk?". You ask. You push your food to the side to make it look like there was an empty space on your plate.

"I parked it in the woods behind. I heard you asked to be dropped off before your stop last night. Figured you didn't want the attention".

"Thank you" you say earnestly.

"You know" he places some stake into his mouth, "people are going to know about us. Most already do".

Us. There was no us. It was commander Snow and a district girl. Entirely separate.

"you're my girl. People should know it".

Your eyes shoot up to his. No. he was going to catch and release.

"the people here-" you start.

"If some one gives you a hard time, you write their name on a piece of paper for me".

You would never do that. You felt your anger flare up and you stomp it down. The door was closed and your mother was injured. No one would come to your aid if you did something stupid.

"Okay?" He presses.

You nod your head in tune to your mothers crying.

Your head snaps back to the bedroom, and then back to Snow.

he made no offer of morphling, as he ate. You wondered how he could stomach it hearing another person cry out.

"Commander Snow".

You were going to ask, saying no wasn't the worse thing he could do but you were desperate.

"Coriolanus. You can call me Coriolanus in private". He wipes his mouth from his dinner with a handkerchief.

You couldn't call him Coriolanus. It was too familiar. So you just continued your sentence.

"I am very grateful for the food that you brought".

Your sentence filled his eyes with light.

"But" they darken at your ongoing, "I was wondering about the morphling that was promised".

"You think you deserve morphling? I told you favor has to be earnt".

Your mother cries out again, calling out for you.

"How would I earn morphling?" here it was his proposition.

"You could try being nicer to me".

You hands ball in frustration. Just say what you want, you begged, You couldn't be the one to offer it.

"I will. I will be nicer, but could I have the morphling now and then we can go to my bedroom?".

"Why would we do that?"

"Please!" you grunt, lunching onto his arm.

"You think I want to fuck you?".

You mother screams for you to come to her and you dig your nails into his uniform.

'You don't?" what the hell was this all for.

"Not until I get back to the Capital".

You lurch up, holding out you hand.

"Coriolanus please"

"who's to say I brought it?".

You knew he did.

''You're welcome to check". He grins, holding out his arms for a pat down.

A sob from your mother had your hands roaming his uniform. Pressing over his arms, and chest for small pockets that he could hide them in.

You pressed against nothing but soft flesh. You go to his uniform belt that was tight around his waist, checking the small compartments built in. He had taken off his hand gun but his handcuffs were still linked over his belt.

He takes hold of the back of your neck tugging you closer so he could brush his teeth against your throat. He kissed and bit as he pleases while you continued to search.

You shake you head at him, trying to keep you throat from his mouth but his hold tightens, going up to your hair.

You pat along his torso. The Commander peacekeeper uniform was intricate there could be a secret compartment anywhere.

When you get to his pant pocket you feel the shape of the small bottle. You dig into his pocket and he catches your wrist.

You tug back but don't make it far. You beg him to release you. You had found the bottle. You had won.

Your mother calls out for you again and he does release you. Letting you go to her.

You run down the hallway to her bedroom. falling to your knees beside her and uncapping the bottle.

"here" you bring it up to her lips but she doesn't take it.

"is he here" .The darkness of the room covers bites on your neck but she still eyes them like she can see them.

"No, mama. No one is here. Drink".

You tilt the bottle to her lips and she sucks it down hungrily. Her eyes droop as she rests her head back on her pillow. You stoke her hair until they close fully.

You couldn't let you emotions get the better of you. You just had to grin and bare it until he leaves. But now he has left you confused. He told you he didn't want to sleep with you until he's back in the Capital.

You thought you knew what tonight was going to hold but now everything is up in the air. Still, at least you knew he had plans to return to the Capital. You wouldn't have to endure him forever.

He could continue the morphling supply. That would save you having to consort with rebels. If you could avoid making him mad.

With your mother asleep you return to the living room where Coriolanus had started to eat your mothers dinner. If she won out in your attention, she lost out on dinner.

You clear you throat, "Thank you".

He looked pissed in his chair, and you were eager to return him to a good mood.

You clear the empty dinner plates from the table,

"Would you like some desert? I baked apple pie just for you".

He liked being center of attention and you would give him special treatment tonight.

He notices your pained walk to the kitchen. The way your knee slightly buckled as you put weight on your left foot. When you reached for the powered sugar in the top shelf, your foot rose from the heal and he could see the redness from where it rubbed.

You pat the sugar on top of the slice of the apple pie and bring it back over to him at a slow pace.

You place it in front of him. You didn't cut a piece for yourself, your throat hurt from bites.

Still he looked unhappy and you worried as he pushed the bowl away from him, and took you into his arm.

With his chair scraped back he positioned you in front of him, shoving you into a sitting position on top of the table.

His hands trailed down to your shoes, and he took them off, rubbing your sore heals. He knew what it was like to wear shoes that were too small.

He sat rubbing your sore feet, you slightly pull away as his strong hands dug into separated skin.

"What about your desert?" You asked. You had planned to try and send him on his way as soon as he ate it.

You strong finger latched themselves around your ankle and threw it over his shoulder. His other hand pushed your dress up around your hips.

You push his shoulders back as his head came between you thighs.

"you said you wouldn't" you squabble.

"I said I wouldn't fuck you. I didn't say we couldn't do other fun things".

His fingers find their way to your panties and he pulls them off, pocketing them.

"Lay down" he demanded, "i have some more morphling if you're good".

You lay flat against your dinner table and squeeze your eyes shut.

he takes both your knees and hooks them over his broad shoulder, pulling you closer to his mouth.

Your body jolts as he lays his lips across your center. Sucking as if it were a juicy stone fruit. You could feel your own wetness and you felt ashamed. But as your boss had said, there were uglier men out there.

As his first lick lands your hand shot out to his head. If he still had his curls you would have grabbed them but you clutched at air.

He laps and sucks hungrily as you wiggle beneath him. You bite back soft moans. This had never been done to you before, and you had no idea you could feel so good.

You could feel him as he spelt out his name with his tongue. C-the O had your hips bucking-R-I- another hard O and a sound crawled its way from your throat- L-A-N-U- he sucked as he finished the S.

You felt his teeth graze your pearl, giving you a second of pain before he went down and started to poke at your entrance.

He was slow and lazy as he ate you out, keeping your thighs in a strong hold. It felt your stomach form knots as he went up and down. Never letting you fully build from one spot.

You could hear him slurping and moaning as he worked. You tried your best to keep quiet. Not wanting to give him the satisfaction of knowing it felt good.

But as you came undone, the orgasm that ripples through you demanded to be known. You hand claws at your own face unsure of what to do while the other clamped down on Coriolanus hand on your thighs.

He added his thumb from his spare hand to your pearl and massaged you through your organism. The over stimulation was too much and you kicked at him to release you.

"Just feel it" he ordered.

You did and it left you spent on table.

"Good girl. You took it well". He tugged you down from the table to the floor beneath him where you sunk.

He undid he belt and you guessed it was his turn.

"Hold out your tongue". You did as he asked poking out your tongue to him.

He freed himself just enough to release his throbbing cock. It stood upright begging for attention. You thought it was going to look scarier, but it could have been your own arousal that soften the member.

He grips your chin, pulling down so your mouth was open as he slowly stokes himself over you.

"Kiss it" he challenged.

You press a soft kiss to his tip and he shudders. Was this all it took for the great commander Snow to crumble.

"Take it" he breathed, "Just the tip".

You take just the first part into your mouth, and he reaches down for your hand. You give it to him and he places it around his cock. He moves your hand for you back and forth.

"Get off" he barks but keeps his hand pressed tightly around yours. You take his mouth off him, and watch as he pumps himself with your hand.

You watch him with his head thrown back and eyes closed. You could see his quick breathes passing through his tummy.

He looks down, seemingly irritated by you, he grabs your hair and yanks it back.

"Open" was the only word he could get out.

You resume your position of sticking your tongue out with your mouth open and he goes back to his state of pleasure.

"That's it, baby" he moans, "like that. Yeah".

His hand over yours quickens and you can see him clutching the arm of the chair.

"Fuck, baby" he says as his milk spills out of him.

The salty taste hits your tongue making you instantly close your mouth. It goes all over the floor and your best dress. Your mothers terrible shoes were safe through.

With his claw still in the back of your head, he maneuvers you out of the way as he bends down and scoops some of his cum off the floor.

He pushes it back into your mouth, through your teeth.

"taste me, baby".

He lets you get up after his fingers are clean. You both straighten out your dress wear. He kicks your chair out for you and you take it. Slumping into it, feeling sick.

He reaches for his pie, taking a bite. He groans in appreciation of its taste. Digging his spoon back for more, he lift it to you.

You stare at him dazed before you eat from his spoon, wanting nothing more then to get the taste of him out of your mouth.

He leaves later on with a kiss goodnight and two more bottles of morphling. Enough to last you until tomorrow night. Where you expected to see him and earn some more.

--------

taglist; @namelesslosers @urfavnoirette

#coriolanus snow #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #dark!coriolanus snow #coriolanus x reader #dead dove do not eat #hunger games #tom blyth #orginial #president snow #coryo snow #commander snow #coryo x reader

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stupidphototricks · 4 months ago

Text

Death as Bill Door, getting a life.

"Are you decent, Bill Door?" said Miss Flitworth's voice in the darkness. Bill Door analyzed the sentence for meaning within context. YES? he ventured. -- Terry Pratchett, Reaper Man

Bill Door was no good at reading faces. It was a skill he'd never needed. He stared at Miss Flitworth's frozen, worried, pleading smile like a baboon looking for meaning in the Rosetta Stone. -- Terry Pratchett, Reaper Man

Was that what it was really like to be alive? The feeling of darkness dragging you forward? How could they live with it? And yet they did, and even seemed to find enjoyment in it, when surely the only sensible course would be to despair. Amazing. To feel you were a tiny living thing, sandwiched between two cliffs of darkness. How could they stand to be alive? -- Terry Pratchett, Reaper Man

The child stared distantly at the landscape for a while and then said, "I've got new socks." YES? "You can look, if you like." A grubby foot was extended for inspection. WELL, WELL. FANCY THAT. NEW SOCKS. "My mum knitted them out of sheep." MY WORD. The horizon was given another inspection. "D'you know," she said, "d'you know... it's Friday." YES. "I found a spoon." Bill Door found that he was waiting expectantly. He was not familiar with people who had an attention span of less than three seconds. -- Terry Pratchett, Reaper Man

Death knew that to tinker with the fate of one individual could destroy the whole world. He knew this. The knowledge was built into him. To Bill Door, he realized, it was so much horse elbows. -- Terry Pratchett, Reaper Man

SOMETIMES PEOPLE CHALLENGE ME TO A GAME. FOR THEIR LIVES, YOU KNOW. "Do they ever win?" NO. LAST YEAR SOMEONE GOT THREE STREETS AND ALL THE UTILITIES. "What? What sort of game is that?" I DON"T RECALL. "EXCLUSION POSSESSION," I THINK. I WAS THE BOOT. -- Terry Pratchett, Reaper Man

Bill Door felt very old. In fact he was very old. But he'd never felt it as much as this. -- Terry Pratchett, Reaper Man

"What the hell have you been doing, Mr. So-Called Bill Door?" I AM TIRED AND IT WON'T STOP. Bill Door clutched at his skull. ALSO SPIGOT GAVE ME A HUMOROUS APPLE JUICE FERMENTED DRINK BECAUSE OF THE HEAT AND NOW I FEEL ILL. "I ain't surprised. He makes it up in the woods. Apples isn't the half of it." I HAVE NEVER FELT ILL BEFORE. OR TIRED. "It's all part of being alive." HOW DO HUMANS STAND IT? "Well, fermented apple juice can help." -- Terry Pratchett, Reaper Man

JUST BECAUSE SOMETHING IS A METAPHOR DOESN'T MEAN IT CAN'T BE REAL. -- Terry Pratchett, Reaper Man

I'VE NEVER BEEN VERY SURE ABOUT WHAT IS RIGHT, said Bill Door. I AM NOT SURE THERE IS SUCH A THING AS RIGHT. OR WRONG. JUST PLACES TO STAND. -- Terry Pratchett, Reaper Man

IF PEOPLE KNEW WHEN THEY WERE GOING TO DIE, I THINK THEY PROBABLY WOULDN'T LIVE AT ALL. "Oh, very gnomic. And what do you know about it, Bill Door?" EVERYTHING. -- Terry Pratchett, Reaper Man

"Have you got any last words?" YES. I DON'T WANT TO GO. "Well. Succinct, anyway." -- Terry Pratchett, Reaper Man

(Now I'm honestly wondering if Russell T. Davies read Terry Pratchett??)

#terry pratchett #gnu terry pratchett #discworld #bill door #reaper man #discworld quotes #quotes

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wileys-russo · 1 year ago

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hiii, could u write smth for leah williamson please? something with sleepy early morning cuddles on her day off and overall being physically clingy <3

skin on skin II l.williamson

you blinked tiredly as a lone gust of wind blew through the half open window, a blindingly bright ray of sunshine striking your face from a crack in the curtains, causing you wince a little at the sudden intrusion.

turning on your side with a small sigh your features softened seeing your girlfriend laid soundly asleep beside you. golden blonde hair sprawled messily across the crisp white linen, rosy pink lips pursed slightly ajar, nose twitching every now and then as she flared her nostrils.

she was imperfectly perfect, and if leah let you then you'd spend the rest of your life reminding her so.

"you watching me sleep creeper?"

your lips tugged into a smile at her endearingly raspy morning voice, her accent even thicker when she was tired. "maybe." you smiled, a singular blue eye staring at you with exhausted amusement before it slammed back closed.

the blonde shuffled herself closer to you across the mattress, tanned arm draping itself lazily over your torso and flushing your bodies together, nose tucking itself into your collarbone.

"good morning baby." you spoke softly, dipping your head to press a tender kiss to her forehead, tangling a hand in her hair and gently massaging her scalp. the taller girl exhaled deeply into your neck, more than content with the affectionate gesture as you let out a quiet laugh at the ticklish sensation.

"no good morning yet love, go back to sleep." leah mumbled tiredly, patting your back and hugging you tighter. "it's almost ten, we did go back to sleep." you reminded her with a chuckle, leah having already displayed her discontent and dragging you back to bed when you'd gotten up to answer a phone call from your mum around eight.

"that didn't count and it's my day off." leah defended, rolling her head back slightly to look up at you with a slight pout. "you're such a baby." you teased softly, lazily pecking her lips a few times as the blonde mumbled back a tired 'am not' in between.

"oh sorry you're such a big strong tough captain...who just can't function without her morning cuddles." you continued to tease her, returning the pout mockingly as leah's spare hand popped out of the duvet and covered your face.

"cuddles that are so much better when you're not talking." "a little more time in bed with you doesn't hurt i guess."

"no! stay." the taller girl who you'd previously assumed was again soundly asleep, grabbed the back of your her top, tugging you down into the bed and wrapping her limbs possessively around you.

"leah i'm hungry!" you laughed, attempting to pry her hands off which gripped onto your stomach like a steel vice, your girlfriend only holding on tighter as you gave up with a sigh.

"i'll order us breakfast, stop trying to leave me." again the pout returned and you melted, softly grabbing her face as your thumbs traced down her sharp jawline, her cheeks flushed red from having again just woken up.

"someone's clingy today, is everything alright?" you started teasingly but ended on a more serious note, eyebrows furrowing together slightly as leah nodded. "i just miss you."

"how could you possibly miss me? we were together all day yesterday and i've been here by your side in bed for the last twelve hours." you laughed. "well rudely enough you weren't in my dreams, so when i was asleep i missed you." your cheeks now flushed red at the adorable statement, leahs own lips curling into a smile at the sight.

though the sweet moment was shortly interrupted by a loud gurgle.

"was that your stomach? see! you're hungry too." you laughed, poking accusingly at the older girl who smiled guiltily. "babe if you order food it'll take forever, just let me cook us something." you pleaded, lacing your fingers with leahs as she finally unwrapped her arms from your stomach with a long stretch.

"fine. but only if its pancakes?" leah smiled hopefully and you rolled your eyes playfully but nodded your agreement. "no i haven't brushed my teeth yet!" you pushed her away as she attempted to kiss you properly for the first time today, whining when you did so as she tugged you closer using your interlaced hands.

"i don't care, let me lay one on ya."

"leah i need to be able to move to cook!" you laughed, having to haul her own body weight around with your own as she clung onto you. chin resting on your shoulder, cold hands tucked into your hoodie pocket to try and warm up, holding your back tightly against her front.

"you can move, you have legs." leah shot back, her lips pressing a few affectionate kisses beneath your ear. "okay i need to go to the fridge." you shook your head with a smile, her footsteps falling in sync with yours as you both made your way across the kitchen and grabbed out some fruit.

"don't bump me please i have a knife." you warned gently, returning to the counter as leah nodded and you began to chop up some strawberries, occasionally holding one up for the defender to eat who kissed your cheek in a wordless thanks each time you did.

"pancakes need flipping gorgeous." leah murmered, glancing behind her. "back to the stove then." you sighed dramatically as once more your footsteps synced and you walked back, flipping them over as leah kissed the back of your neck.

"can i get some nutella on mine please?" the defender requested as you rifled through the pantry trying to find syrup, her hands moving from in your pockets to slip up inside the front of your hoodie, now pressed flush against your stomach.

"at this rate you may as well get in here with me." you teased as the blonde hugged you tightly, forever drunk on the feeling of her skin touching yours. "leah! i was joking!" you squealed as she flipped you around and ducked down, beginning to wiggle herself up and inside your hoodie.

you threw your head back, stomach aching from laughing so hard as leah grinned, head popping out of the collar as the two of you now stood inside your hoodie together.

"you told me to do it! plus it's my hoodie anyway, sharing is caring baby." leah smiled smugly, leaning in to press her forehead against yours, the two of you bound so tightly together you could feel one another's bodies moving with each breath taken or exhaled.

"you are unbelievably needy today."

"guess i'm just obsessed with you love." your heart swelled at the tender confession, lazy kisses exchanged among sweet words and breathy whispers of endearment. leah's slender fingers traced small shapes on your bare sides as your own gently cupped her chin, both staring at one another adoringly.

"you know, you should feel honoured." leah cocked her head to the side, cheeky glint of mischief in her eye as you raised an eyebrow curiously, unsure where she was going with this.

the two of you had just finished up eating your breakfast sat side by side at the island, thighs pressed against one another, leah seemingly determined to always have at least one part of herself attached to you.

"please do enlighten me babe." "well you've just been promoted." "oh have i?" "mmm yes we've noticed you've been putting in a good shift, decided to reward your efforts." "oh really? and what's this promotion then." "well don't get a big head but you're now captain of the leah williamson fan club, its a prestigious honour you know." "is there a way to return your membership?" "no, in fact you're actually a little behind in your fees." "oh really? what a shame i've got no money." "oh don't fret my girl, we take other forms of payment."

#woso imagine #woso x reader #leah williamson x reader #woso blurbs #leah williamson #engwnt #woso fanfics #woso #leah williamson imagine

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purplecoffee13 · 1 year ago

Text

The Fake Girlfriend - pt. 2*

Summary: “The official fake dating can commence, and so can the exploration of a whole bunch of new… feelings.”

Wc: 4.9k

Tropes: semi-enemies to lovers (she hates him)

Warnings: jealousy, possessiveness, smut (f!receiving), a sudden deep analysis of wuthering heights followed by smut

*2 weeks later*

I'm going to move to Italy, seriously.

Ever since Harry and I arrived at the airport I haven't been able to stop myself from gawking at everything I've seen. That includes Harry's relatives, proving that his entire family consists of solely good genes.

The flight was excruciatingly long and a bit uncomfortable. Harry taught me as much as he could about his family, and we both complained about the hernia we were getting from our bad seats. Nevertheless, we both attempted to sleep, and I accidentally dozed off while leaning on his shoulder.

One of Harry's cousins, Matthew, picked us up at the airport. He was particularly fascinated with my existence, almost as much as I was with his accent. I love English accents, I could listen to them for hours on end.

Matthew led us to our room in the Villa and gave Harry a pat on the back before leaving us alone to unpack and get ready to meet the family.

"He's nice." I note, throwing my backpack on the Queen sized bed we have in this room.

"He's a little shit." Harry chuckles, earning a furrowed brow from me. He waves it off, literally, and sits himself on the bed. "You'll see."

We stay fairly quiet for the rest of the time, unpacking our stuff and freshening up. Well, mainly me, because Harry doesn't have to do half the things I do to look good. It's so much easier being a man.

I shoo Harry out of our bedroom and put on a long, brown dress with a wide slit and some floral print on it. As soon as I've changed, I open the door to the bathroom so he knows it's okay for him to walk back in. When he does walk back in, we both catch each other off guard.

While he is analyzing the dress that is currently clinging to my body, I'm gawking at his shirtless chest. My cheeks start to heat up when I realize that I'm staring, but luckily Harry doesn't notice because he's too busy staring at me. Then, he clears his throat.

"Nice dress."

"Thank you." I throw him a small smile.

It doesn't take long for Harry to get dressed and soon enough we are walking from our room to the villa, where the welcome dinner will be held, or at least that's what it said on the card that Harry handed to me on the plane.

We sit down at our assigned seats at one of many round tables. I don't miss the name tags of Harry's parents, and I'm glad to find that Matthew will also be sitting at our table. It will make things a bit less nerve racking.

Harry places his hand on the small of my back as he guides me to his mother. He looks just like her, and by the warm smile on her face, I realize that it probably won't be as bad as I might think it would.

"Mum, this is Y/N. The girl I've told you about. She's my girlfriend." The words leave his mouth in a way that makes me think someone is holding a gun to his head, and I can tell that his mother thinks the same thing.

"I'm Sheila." She introduces herself, nonetheless. I can tell that she is skeptical of me, despite the warm smile on her face. I know it's a genuine one, but I know that she knows her son, and she'll see something is up if he doesn't get his act together.

"This is Tom." She turns to a tall man that I immediately recognize as Harry's father. He doesn't have a lot of facial features from his dad, except for the nose, that is exactly the same. But the way he carries himself, the way he extends his hand for me to shake, those are the aspects that make Harry identical to his father.

We chat with his parents for a little, telling our wonderfully fake story of how we met. Tom keeps nodding but doesn't seem fully convinced. Not because he doesn't believe it, but probably because of the girl he'd rather have his daughter be with; the reason I'm here in the first place. Sheila remains skeptical, but that is just because she can see right through Harry.

So when his parents leave to get some food from the buffet, I'm quick to swat his arm.

"Ow!" He hisses at me.

"You're a terrible actor, do you know that? Your mom is totally on to us!" I say in a soft tone, but it doesn't discredit my disapproval.

"I'm sorry okay! It's hard to lie to her." He responds, and the confession makes my heart melt a little.

I let him off with a roll of the eyes and we join the queue for the buffet. During dinner, Matthew promotes himself to main entertainer of our table by telling countless of stories about him and Harry and all of their antics from back in the days. Harry seems slightly embarrassed sometimes, but he finds it funny nonetheless.

In an attempt to make me and Harry seem like more of a real couple, I take it upon myself to touch him during dinner. Just casual touching. Some hand-holding—above the table so everyone can see of course—and the occasional leg rub. It's only halfway through dinner that Harry finally initiates some touches to, and I have to bite my inner lip at the way his hand feels wrapped around my thigh.

After dinner, a few tables are removed in order to create a dance floor. People are quick to get on it, but Harry refuses to come along with me. Matthew doesn't let the opportunity to bust a move pass, so I leave my purse with Harry and get on the dance floor with him.

We have a big laugh, Matthew and I. He spins me around an absurd amount of times, dramatically dances the tango with me while a pop song is playing, and throws out some moves that I haven't seen since I played Just Dance when I was eight years old.

After a while I decide to retire from the dance floor and get a drink. Matthew offers to accompany me, and for a second I contemplate whether I should say yes. Then I figure, he is a part of Harry's family and I need as many of them on my side for this whole act to be believable, plus I'll be able to get Harry a drink.

We walk over to the bar and order our drinks, Matthew is quick to spark up a conversation as we wait for our beverages.

"How long have you been together again?" He asks, looking over at me with a smirk.

"A month, officially." I reply, and he raised his brows in surprise.

"Only a month, huh?"

"Like I said, officially." I tilt my head, a mischievous smile on my face. He leans over in my direction, with eyes ready to play, and I immediately start to wonder if the head tilt was too flirty instead of funny and playful.

"And unofficially?"

"Almost three months." I divert my eyes back to the drinks that are put in front of me, and thank the bartender.

"Is it serious? Between you two?" He asks, and I don't like the glint of desperation in his voice. Is this what Harry meant, when he said 'you'll see'? Is this guy seriously trying to hit on his cousin's date?

"Well, I cancelled spring break plans with my family, so I sure hope it is." I flash him a smile before taking the drinks and walking back to Harry.

He's sitting alone, despite most every seat around him being taken. Not talking to anyone, not on his phone, just staring into the nothingness. When I approach, he's thrown out of his trance and his eyes follow me instead as I make my way to him and hand over his drink.

"Whiskey on the rocks." I tell him. He smiles at me, putting the glass on the table and grabbing my now free hand. His legs are spread, so he pulls me closer until I'm standing in between them. He looks up at me, and the sole color of his eyes makes my hands sweat profusely.

"Are you having fun?" He asks, his head tilting just like mine did a few seconds ago.

"I am," I say, looking around a bit. "But my legs are a bit tired... Is there a free chair behind you?"

I squint at something that looks like a chair, but I can't really make it out from this angle. When Harry doesn't respond, I look down at him, and find that he was already looking at me. He grabs my waist and pushes me in a bit. Confused, I let my body follow his silent demands, and watch him sit up straighter before pulling me onto his lap.

My back leans against the table, and my legs are thrown over his left one. I hold my drink in my right hand while my left is slung over his shoulder for 'support'. My cheeks flush at the realization that my ass is right on his groin, but I try to make it seem as if it doesn't affect me at all. He holds my waist with his right arm, tracing his fingers around in a way that makes my body shiver.

My eyes fly to my left thigh when he puts his other hand on it, and I try to steady my breathing as much as humanly possible while the tingling sensation between my legs becomes too adamant for me to ignore. The low chuckle that leaves Harry's mouth isn't missed by me, and it makes me even more nervous. He notices, and strikes up a conversation about the party, his family and Matthew.

"He asked me how long we've been official." I decide to tell him. Harry finds it amusing.

"Really?" He smiles. "The fucker."

"What?" I ask, not really understanding how that question adds up to him being a fucker.

"He wants you, been eye fucking you ever since he met you." He explains. "He has a thing for unavailable people, especially if they're unavailable because of me."

"So he just steals your girlfriends? Or at least, tries to?" I clarify, eyes wide, and Harry nods. "How have you not been in thousands of fights already?"

"Never really cared about it." He shrugs. "Most girls were just flings or one night stands, it wasn't anything serious, really."

"Wow." I laugh in disbelief, and it makes me wonder if maybe he is going to let Matthew hit on me. After all, we're faking this. It shouldn't be relief that I feel when Harry's grip on me tightens as soon as Matthew approaches us once again, but I do, I feel relieved. A little bit giddy too.

"Hey, wanna go for a round two?" Matthew asks me after greeting us both. I'm about to decline his offer, but I don't get a chance to speak.

"She's busy." Harry says in a tone that makes my head turn to him. His eyes don't look as friendly as they did before, and the warm smile on his face is looking a little bit more cynical. Matthew takes the hint and wanders off, a bit of disappointment on his face.

"Wow, you really nailed that 'jealous boyfriend' act." I tease him, my left hand instinctively trailing to the back of his head, where I start playing with his hair. He rolls his eyes, pulling me even more into him. I shift in his lap a bit, placing my drink on the table and grabbing his glass instead.

"Here." I hand it to him. "You haven't drank anything since dinner."

"Wow, you're really nailing that 'caring girlfriend' act." He reconstructs my words, and I roll my eyes accordingly. He drinks nonetheless, and I snatch the glass from him, take my cocktail back in my hand, and turn to him again. I frown when his nails dig into my skin.

"Don't move so much."

My cheeks instantly flush. Right...

I am usually way more confident when it comes to flirting. I know exactly what to say, when to say it and how to flutter with my eye lashes in those ways that make men want to drag you to their bedroom. I can flirt with everyone, I'm not easily impressed. Well, except with Malcolm of course, but that was just because I had a crush him. I act like an idiot around people I have a crush on. But I don't. I don't have a crush on Harry. I hated him until a few weeks ago– no. Until a few days ago. I started tolerating him on the plane. Yes, the plane. Oh god, the plane.

"I–" I start a sentence, looking him dead in the eye while realizing that I didn't have something to finish it with. His green eyes along with the feeling of whatever I shouldn't be feeling while sitting on his lap is making me dizzy. "I'm gonna go get a drink."

I try to wiggle out of my seat — which is his lap, oh my god — but Harry seems to find this whole situation very amusing, because for some reason he tightens his grip around me — pushing me more into his hard-on —then nods at the full glass in my hand.

"I think you're good, love." He gives me a half-smirk like I've only seen those guys in the romance movies do and I don't like how it makes my heart pound. What the fuck is happening to me right now?

I look at him, trying to come up with some kind of response that doesn't end up with me sounding like an absolute moron, and then I get lost in his eyes. The loud music fades, and the only thing I can seem to focus on are his eyes and his left hand that grazes further up the slit of my dress. It's only inches, and he trails painfully slow, but he keeps going because he waits for my reaction and it's positive. He can tell by the look in my eyes, and by the way my grip on his hair is a bit too tight.

The tips of his fingers are dangerously close to my panties, and all of a sudden, the music becomes louder again and I feel like I'm waking up from a sinful dream. I swing my legs off of his and get up, my drink almost spilling because of the sudden action. I quickly place it on the table.

"Pee." I say, partly to myself and partly to Harry. "I'm going to... pee."

Harry looks a bit surprised, but more in a way that makes him laugh. I don't miss how his head shakes a bit before giving me a permissive hum. I begin to walk away when I realize a crucial detail is missing, and so I saunter back over to Harry.

"Do you know where the bathrooms are?"

"No." He smirks.

"Oh. okay. Uhm..." I look around aimlessly, hoping to spot some kind of sign. But then, Harry gets up, and stands in front of me. He towers over me easily, it's intimidating and hot. Two things I need him not to be if I want to survive this wedding.

"D'you want to go back to the room?" He asks, voice gone a bit softer. I nod before I even realize that I am doing it, and Harry places a kiss on my temple. Grabbing my hand, he leads us towards the exit, waving goodbye to his parents before we make our way back over to our bedroom.

The cobblestones define the pace of our footsteps, making a whole lot of noise to confirm us where we are. Not that I'd need those stones to find him—he's still holding my hand. I shrug it off, it's dark and he probably doesn't want me to fall face first into these little rocks.

Once we've arrived at our room, Harry walks into the place like it's his apartment, and he goes to occupy the bathroom almost immediately. I grab my white, floral pyjama set that I actually never wear because I like to wear an oversized t-shirt to bed and nothing more. But, I packed my suitcase with the knowledge that I was going to have to lay next to a man the whole week, so I only brought the cute stuff.

When Harry leaves the bathroom, some steam leaves along with him, and I quickly look away at the revelation that he is shirtless, again. I don't miss the amused sniff, but I ignore it nonetheless. I skip into the bathroom, lock it and take a very anticipated shower. A part of me hopes that the water would also wash this weird vibe off. Like if I got out and walked back into that bedroom, my hands wouldn't start to sweat at the sight of him on the bed.

Unfortunately, I am wrong. Because when I do leave the bathroom, not only do my hands start to sweat, but my heart also begins to pound. Fuck.

I'd actively been ignoring this ever since the party. This stupid feeling, thinking it was just me being touch deprived. But I'm not so sure now. Maybe I do have a crush on Harry. However, I can't afford to think about that too much now, so I shake it off and walk over to my side of the bed.

I throw a decorative pillow on the ground and climb into the bed, trying to act as if I don't notice Harry staring at me. He's on his phone, doing God knows what. I grab my book from the bed side table.

"Wuthering Heights, huh?" He smirks, and I can sense the pretentiousness from miles away. I look at him, then roll my eyes with a smile.

"Shut up, it's my favorite story."

"Why? Heathcliff is awful." He frowns, and his tone is a bit mocking. Not to me, just to the story. But it's my favorite story, so I take the offense.

"I just like the fact that it acknowledges that love can make you both whole and destroy you. That loving isn't always really the ending, or the solution. It can be a fleeting middle, break you in a thousand pieces and then leave it for you to pick up the pieces yourself."

"That's a bit pessimistic, innit?" He chuckles. I shrug.

"I think it's realistic to recognize that spite, anger, sadness, and revenge are almost always born out of love, or a lack of it. I think it's optimistic, actually."

He smiles. "Yeah?"

"Mhm." I hum. "Think it creates a space for empathy, does it not?"

"Yeah, I guess so." Harry frowns, as if I've just opened a new door for him. I smile at his face, full of contemplation over what I just said and I know that I'm inevitably screwed.

He should've bashed the freaking book so I could have a reason to hate him.

I decide that I won't be able to concentrate on anything anyway now that I have admitted these weird feelings to myself—and the subject of those feelings is laying next to me—so I shut the book and put it back on my nightstand.

"Not reading after all?"

"Nope." I chime, my tone sounding way too forced. "Changed my mind. 'M gonna sleep."

I turn off the light on my bedside table and turn around to Harry who is still laying with his phone in his hands. It freaks me out that he is looking at me, it makes me so nervous, but I try my best to be cool.

"Good night." I sigh as my head hits the pillow. I finally look up at Harry—bad move—and my heart melts a bit at his sweet smile.

"Good night."

I am laying with my face towards Harry, mainly because I laid down like that and now I'm too scared to shift too much and look weird, but I feel Harry's burning gaze on me and frankly, it's making me feel incredibly tense. My heart is beating way quicker than it should and I have to consciously steady my breathing in order to provide my lungs with some oxygen.

"Harry." I finally say after three more minutes of tense silence, eyes still closed. He hums softly. "I can feel you looking at me."

I open my eyes, because suddenly I'm very afraid that I'm wrong and look like a complete fool, but he is indeed still staring. He doesn't look like a dear in headlights, he's just smiling. There is a sense of comfort in him that I envy, especially because I feel like I could explode right now.

"Yeah, well, you're nice to look at." He answers, making my cheeks flush with embarrassment. I quickly dart my eyes to his body so I won't have to meet his confrontational gaze — bad idea, bad idea! — and quickly find that staring at his body isn't going to help my case any more.

"Am I making you nervous?" He asks softly, in a way that you could almost describe as sweet. But it isn't, because I know he's reveling in this.

Out of instinct, I look up at him, wide eyed at the fact that he read my mind and my body so well. But I cannot afford this—whatever it is that is hanging in the air right now—so I shake my head.

"Nope, just frustrated." I sigh, which is more a way to get my breathing back to normal. I pull myself up and turn around, my back now towards him, and hope to have closed the conversation for tonight. There is some shuffling from the other side and for a moment I think I did it, I think I won, but then I feel a hand sneak around my bare waist and my mind turns into jelly.

I suck in a sharp breath at the touch of his cold hand and the heat of his mouth on my ear, and swallow a whine at the way it's making my head spin.

"Do you need me to help you relax?" He whispers, and I suck in a deep breath.

"I– I need to sleep." I attempt to reason — mainly with myself — and Harry just chuckles.

"I can think of a way to tire you out." He insinuates smugly and I clench my jaw at his stupid charisma and how well it's working on me.

"Harry, I can't..." I begin the sentence, even though I have no logical argument to say no right now. I want him, really bad but a part of me is forbidding it for reasons unknown, which makes me want it even more. You know what they say about forbidden fruit...

"What? Would you rather be with my cousin? Have him get you off, hmm?" He asks a bit condescendingly, which makes me think the jealous act maybe wasn't such an act after all. His thumb is now circling over my hips and it's making me dizzy, which is exactly what he's trying to do to me.

"No–"

"No?" He plays dumb. His hand lowers to my pyjama shorts and starts playing with it's elastic band. My stomach is on fire and my pussy is aching, it's getting too much for me to brush off. I can't not get off, it's going to kill me. I need life support.

"No!" I whine. He chuckles, kisses my ear lobe.

"That's right... you came to me when he started hitting on you. Such a good, sweet, loyal girl. Sitting on my lap so nicely. Making me so fucking hard..." He taunts, and I start squirming under his touch.

"Harry..." I cry out, because frankly, I can't take another second of this torture. I'm about to implode if he doesn't touch me where I need it between now and twenty seconds.

"What is it sugar?" I can quite literally hear his grin and I groan at the irritating pet name. I grab his arm and try to get out from under his touch, but his grip only tightens on me and he pulls me back into him, cock pressed against my ass. He hums disapprovingly.

"No, feel what you did to me." He leans over to look at me and when our eyes catch, I think my heart malfunctions. "'S not very nice, now is it?"

I shake my head, biting my lip nervously. His eyes dart from mine to my mouth as he breaths out a 'fuck', and he wipes some hair out of my face with his free hand.

He pulls his body away from mine and for a moment I feel like I could cry, but he distracts me by laying me on my back and throwing the sheets off our bodies. He then quickly slips his hand in my pants, grazing his fingers over my underwear.

I look at him, desperately waiting for his next move while he studies my body with a light frown. My eyes go to his sweatpants, and see the straining bulge that hides in it. I go to touch him, offer him some release too but he swats my hand away. The stern look on his face gives me shivers.

"I didn't say you could touch me, now did I?" He states, rubbing his middle finger over my clit, and I curse my underwear for being the only thing that stands in the way of his real touch. Nevertheless, I moan, because he could literally blow on my underwear and I would come right then and there.

"'M sorry." I say softly, shifting when Harry starts to pull down my shorts and underwear. He inspects me, or at least that's what it looks like, and a grin grows on his face.

"I think you'll make it up to me just fine." He beams and starts to circle my clit, causing my hips to shoot up in surprise. He chuckles softly.

"Does that feel good, baby?" He asks and I nod immediately. My eyes begin to feel heavy and I don't know for how much longer I will be able to keep going.

"Harry, slow down or I'm gonna..." I can't get the sentence out because he only starts rubbing faster, and my eyes shut permanently.

"Yeah? You gonna come for me already?" Harry taunts, and I bite my lip to steady the volume of the moans that are leaving my mouth.

"Ah! Oh my– Harry!" I try to sound angry but it's really just me moaning his name very aggressively and the realization that it's his fingers on my clit right now is what sends me over the edge. The explosion feels overdue, and it washes away all the unnecessary tension I'd been feeling since I started fake dating Harry. And now I realized; it was probably sexual frustration.

I close my eyes, trying to control my breathing as well as I possibly can. My legs are shaking and I can feel Harry hovering over me. His body heat warms my cheeks as he hangs over me, leaning on the bed with one arm, holding my face with the other.

"Open your eyes baby." He says softly, and it makes my heart flutter. I am in deep, deep trouble. I do as he says, my eyes meeting his, and the smile on his face makes me feel like I'll melt through the bed.

"You okay?" He asks, stroking my cheek. I nod, head still woozy but not wanting us to stop any time soon.

"I'm okay." I give him verbal confirmation, knowing it's what he needs from me. He kisses my temple, whispers 'good girl' in my ear and moves away from my face.

As soon as I have my breathing a bit under control, my hands reach for his sweatpants, but he Harry grabs my wrists and pushes me away. I frown, and I have to admit that my ego is a bit hurt. I feel like he can see it in my face, because he is quick to explain.

“Believe me I would love to, but another night, okay? Tonight was just for you.”

I can quite literally feel my entire body melt at his words, and it doesn’t help when he gets off the bed and helps me up so I can go to the bathroom.

After I’m done and enter the room again, he is sat up straight at the edge of the bed, and looks at me expectantly. I shoot him an awkward smile and get back into bed. He does the same and we lay silently in the dark for a while.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to…?” I can’t help but ask, feeling like I should return the favor, and still insecure about the fact that he doesn’t want me to.

“Patience, sugar.” He says lowly, and my heart thuds at the kiss I feel being planted on my forehead. The amount of calm I feel is unmatched, and it makes me very sleepy.

“Whatever you say, hot stuff…”

Part 3

#harry styles #fanfic #writing #smut #blurb #fanfiction #harry #one shot smut #one shot #smutty #enemies to lovers

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pyro-les · 8 months ago

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While I'm still writing part 2 of it's a blessing and it's a curse have some little fun facts for it:

Regina is a very affectionate person and would be clinging onto Y/N constantly if she could. The fact that she can't be with Y/N at school actually gives her an excuse to spend more time with her out of school and she 100% uses this to her advantage.

Gretchen and Karen are their number one supporters and when Regina came out to them they were nothing but supportive.

Gretchen and Karen also get on incredibly well with Y/N but sometimes Regina just wants to spend time alone with Y/N rather than with the others. Because of this Regina and Y/N have a designated day to just spend together to chill.

Regina's mum is incredibly supportive because she's a C000000L mum. Her father however, not so much.

Regina's dramatic hoodie she wears in the beginning of world burn is one of Y/N's hoodie that she stole from her.

Y/N also loves to wear Regina's clothes because they're both super comfortable and they remind her of Regina💜

She was once heavily questioned on it by Janis and Damian when she wore Regina's fluffy black jumper only 2 days after Regina had worn it. She thought she was screwed for a minute but luckily the seemingly extreme Unlikeliness that Regina would ever actually date Y/N meant it wasn't even considered by the two, they had only questioned it because they thought she was trying to imitate Regina.

Speaking of Janis and Damien although they hadn't been close before after Cady gets them to talk at school more they become a bit closer and they think it is their duty as friends to help Y/N find a girlfriend because her obvious crush on Regina is clearly hopeless.

However Regina is incredibly possessive and she gets very upset whenever she sees someone Janis had introduced Y/N to trying to flirt with her and Y/N feels bad for turning people down even though she would never in a million years date them.

Also sorry the next chapters taking awhile I've been pretty busy with college recently but I've got chapter 2 about half done. Also if u want to be tagged in the next chapter let me know:)

#regina george x reader #mean girls musical #mean girls #Reneé Rapp #it's a blessing and it's a curse

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emeritusemeritus · 1 year ago

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Just wanna bewitch you in the moonlight. Pt 7.

[Fred Weasley x Reader x George Weasley]

Part 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12

Title: Just wanna bewitch you in the moonlight.

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Reader x George Weasley

Timeline: Predominately set between GOF and OOTP (some canon has been altered to fit the story)

Summary: Both twins like Gryffindor!reader. Reader likes both twins. How will she decide who to chose in the end? Amortentia might be able to help, or not.

Warnings: Smut, oral sex, p in v sex, established relationships, threesomes, friends to lovers, all the good stuff. NO Twincest. Mentions of illness, Brief mentions of vomiting. Tiny bit of angst, possessiveness, talk of kids. Mentions of dominant behaviour. Snape has a soft spot for reader. Love potions? But none are actually used.

A little fluff, a little smut 🤍 all aboard the Freddie train 🌹

A constant, thumping noise woke you from your heavy sleep, firstly permeating your dreams before you roused, eventually realising it was someone knocking on the door.

Ginny, beside you, groaned as she pulled herself out of the bundle of blankets on the floor and stood up to answer the annoying knock.

Hermione seemed to also groan as she woke up abruptly, sitting straight up in bed on alert as she waited for whoever was knocking to reveal themselves.

"What?" You heard Ginny say abruptly as she flung open the door, making you turn your head towards the noise.

"Bloody hell, had a fight with a thunderbird in your sleep?" the voice laughs, noticing her disheveled appearance.

"What do you want?" She mutters, annoyed.

"Mum says breakfast's ready sleepyheads," you heard George say, at least you were 80% sure it was George; your eyes were still bleary and you're consciousness hadn't fully set in yet.

"Okay," Ginny says, closing the door in George's face.

You rub your eyes and try to come round but it was a struggle. You had gone to bed late after staying up to watch another movie and gossiping well into the night. You'd painted each others nails, talked about boys and pretty much every teenage sleepover cliche you could think of, laughing and giggling until the early hours.

You considered getting changed briefly but when Ginny and Hermione made no attempt to dress, you decided to stay in your pyjamas for breakfast. Ginny threw her robe over herself and you cursed yourself for not bringing yours.

"You go on, I've just got to grab something from Fred and George's room," you told the girls as they made their way downstairs, "tell your mum I'll just be a second."

The door was open and the room was vacant so you stepped into the room and walked straight over to your case, reaching for the jumper you'd left there the previous day, throwing it over you with little thought before making your way to the table.

The twins were sat together for once and the only vacant seat was between Fred and Ginny so you sat down in between them, greeting everyone as you took your place. Ron was already heaping food into his mouth as both Hermione and Molly warned him to chew as everyone else tucked in with more civility than Ron, except maybe for the twins.

You could feel both of their eyes on you as they ate but you ignored them for now, much too tired to be playing games this early in a morning.

"Here you go dear," Molly says, placing down a steaming cup of tea in front of you as she whizzed around. You turned with a wide smile, thankful she'd been so thoughtful and she smiled back, "just like me, can't start the day without a cup of tea."

"And rightly so," Arthur says with a nod as he raises his own mug of tea, making you chuckle. "So what does everyone have planned for today?"

Ron immediately begins talking with his mouthful, explaining that they had all decided to hold a mini quidditch match on the back field and everyone would be joining in.

"Bagsy referee," you said quickly, Not wanting to actually play. It worked out well as there were seven of you and it would have been uneven if not. Ron looks over at you and smiles, nodding, as if he'd already predicted it.

You could still feel Fred's eyes on you so you bit the bullet and turned to look at him, seeing that he was looking at your braids, his eyes washing over your face each time he could sneak a glance.

You frowned, wordlessly asking him why he was looking but he merely smirked and gave you a subtle wink, focusing his attention back to his food.

After breakfast, you walked up to Ginny's room to help her clear up before grabbing your makeup bag and hairbrush and walking to the twins' room. They weren't back yet and so you sat down at the desk and began putting a little bit of makeup on, namely just a little dab of concealer under your slightly puffy, tired eyes and some mascara, finishing with a slick of lip balm.

"Morning," George drawls, walking into the room and noticing you sat at his desk. You turn and smile at him, greeting him with a good morning as you reach out your arms for him, making little grabby hands. He chuckles, walking over to you and immediately lifts you into his arms so that you're stood facing him. You immediately rest your head on his chest, feeling comforted in your sleepy state, knowing that George cuddles would make everything better.

"Still tired baby?" He asks quietly, reaching up to pull a little strand of hair that you'd pulled from your braid out of your face. You nodded into his chest, the soft material of his jumper rubbing against you, feeling his chest rumble with a light chuckle. You felt yourself go a little mushy at him calling you baby, having never heard him call you that before and you couldn't help but smile into his chest.

"Well well well, what do we have here?" You heard Fred say as he walks noisily into the room, shutting the door with a bang. You lift your head from George's chest, still entwined with his body and turn to see Fred smirking at you. "I nip for a piss and he gets all the affection?"

"Ssssh," you say weakly, too tired for his sarcasm as you reach your hand out for him.

"Our girl's still tired," George explains, passing you over to his slightly older brother. You can't help but feel that same warmth at being called our girl, apparently George was attempting to turn you to mush this morning. Fred immediately opens his arms for you as you limply slide from one body to another, instantly burrowing into his chest as his arms wrap tightly around you.

"Wanna take a nap before quidditch?" Fred asks, but you shake your head, knowing you just needed to wake up more.

"Ron'll be pounding at the door soon anyway," you explain, knowing the youngest male Weasley had little to no patience.

As you predicted, it took Ron no less than twenty minutes before he was yelling and banging about trying to get everyone over to the field as quickly as possible. A few years back when Fred and George had wanted to join the quidditch team, the family had made a little homemade quidditch pitch on the field behind the house, made from scrap metal for the goals and a selection of used balls Arthur had managed to find cheap. There was no golden snitch but rather a muggle golf ball Arthur had lying about in the shed which he had enchanted to act like the real thing, he'd even charmed it to turn a golden colour.

Seeing Fred and George in their quidditch robes always made you want to squeeze your legs together, the vivid colours and the silky flowing robes mixed with the rigid leather safety armour did something to you that you couldn't explain. You helped Fred put on his forearm protectors, doing up the little buckles before helping George with his. The attraction died a little at seeing them place their goggles around their necks but still, they made it look better than a his e you'd ever seen.

They grabbed their bats from the little closet and they were ready for the game.

"So do we get a prize if we win?" Fred smirks, pulling you by the hips to crash into his body, flirting and smirking dangerously at you.

"Hmmm, I'd say so," you flirt back, reaching up to place your arms around his neck. His gaze flicks down to your lips and he wastes no time in devouring you, fixing you with a passionate kiss that makes your knees tremble.

"Do we get to chose our reward?" George says, moving in behind you as you pull back from Fred's lips, George's now placing little kisses to your neck, behind your ear.

"You're on opposing teams right?"

"Yeah princess," Fred nods, his brow knitting together as he questions you. "Can't have two world class beaters on the same team now can we?"

"I'll make you a deal," you say, smirking. "Whichever team wins, that brother gets to do anything to me or have anything done to them," you flirt seductively.

"Merlin," you hear George say behind you, pushing his hips into your ass at the sudden arousal that washes over him. Fred growls under his breath and does a little involuntary shiver at your words.

"Brother, you're going down," George says with a sudden determination, flicking his gaze to Fred.

"More like she'll be going down, on me, when I win," Fred bites back sarcastically as equally competitive as his brother.

"Come on!" Fred says, marching out of the room with a renewed vigour that you have to laugh at.

———

It was neck and neck for the majority of the game. You'd been keeping score for the past hour and twenty minutes and it had been a close call a few times as Harry and Ginny had come close to catching the 'snitch' but had not yet managed to catch it.

Due to limited players they had all agreed to sharing some roles and limiting the number of bludgers on the field.

Fred and George were opposing team captains due to their age, or seniority as they had put it, and had picked their teams wisely. Fred had gone first, naturally stating that he was the older twin and had picked Harry, with George choosing Ginny immediately after. Fred then chose Ron and George picked Hermione, though he was left with no choice.

Ron and Hermione were acting as keepers, with Fred and George as beaters and Ginny and Harry were chasers and seekers. The primary goal was to score the highest points within the given time frame of two hours, hence why Harry and Ginny were split between roles. If the snitch could be caught by then it would be an extra bonus and a game winner but unlike regular games, it wouldn't be the primary focus.

"10 points to Team F!" You shout as Harry sneaks a goal Ron. "Well done Harry! Come on Ronald! That big silver hoop behind you is supposed to be guarded!" You shouted out heckling Ron who shot you a glare and held up two fingers as everyone laughed.

You'd been shouting praise and also heckling the entire game, keeping neutral to both teams and you were thoroughly enjoying yourself. All the Weasley's seemed to have a pure talent for quidditch, most especially George you'd noticed, and you had to admit that the twins had a knack for making it as hot as possible.

"WOO well done Hermione!" You shouted as she blocked one of Ginny's shots.

Arthur had come out and dropped off some post game refreshments courtesy of Molly and had sat with you cheering everyone on for a little while.

"Dad... Dad!" Fred shouted with a beaming smile, getting Arthur's attention. "Want to join? I'll sub out for you!" He laughed as he whizzed by. Arthur chuckled and shook his head vigorously, waving off his son as he flew past. George then began shouting over asking for Arthur to join and they did eventually manage to get Arthur to clumsily mount Fred's broom and hover around just far enough off the ground that it could count as flying, though he was mightily unsteady. “It's a young ones game, flying," he laughs, handing Fred the broom back as he claps him on the back and sets off back to the house.

There were only 5 minutes left of the game and Fred's team was winning by 10 points, a fact he was proudly boasting about as he cockily whizzed around the opposing team.

You watched intently as Ginny zipped around doing flamboyant acrobatics on the broom, trying to throw off Hermione, who's eyes were trained in on the youngest Weasley. Ginny suddenly whizzed through Fred and Harry's defences as George and Harry collided mid-air and managed to get one last goal in as Hermione was momentarily distracted.

You cheered and looked at the little chicken shaped egg timer that Molly had leant you and saw that there were just two minutes remaining until the two hour cut off was up. Both teams were now tied, locked in a draw between.

The tension between the teams increased tenfold as you shouted out signalling the last two minutes as the friendly game suddenly turned painfully competitive as each team fought to be the winners, desperate to gain one last goal.

Suddenly, Harry whizzed away on his broom as he approached the goal, narrowly avoiding a bludger that George had slung his way. You frowned, watching Harry suddenly take off in the complete opposite direction, abandoning the quaffel altogether. Ginny immediately took notice of Harry's disappearance and began following him, though her broom was not as quick as Harry's. Harry suddenly lurched, coming to a full stop midair and dropped down atleast 20 feet, pulling back and then lunging forward. He lost his balance and toppled off his broom, falling the last bit of distance onto the ground, which was thankfully not too far away. He managed to fall somewhat gracefully as everyone looked on in shock.

The F team erupted in cheers as Harry suddenly turned and waved the golden snitch in the air, jumping in victory as the other team looked on with sour faces.

"150 points to the F team!" You cheered, announcing their overwhelming victory, just in time for the timer to ring out, signalling the end of the game.

"Fred's team are the winners!"

——-

"So princess, when do I get my prize?" Fred asks cheekily as he peels off his leather arm and shin guards once you and the twins had returned to their room.

"Once you've showered," you joke, hopping onto the bed as you watch both twins change out of their quidditch uniform.

"I don't blame her, you smell like a bin mate," George jokes, tossing his quidditch jumper into the little washing hamper in the corner of their room, shoving a plain, dark grey T-shirt on in its place.

"You're one to talk," Fred mutters, seemingly unable to come up with a better retort, causing George to snort out a laugh before throwing himself onto the bed beside you.

"You know he's right," you say, trying to distance yourself from George, "you both smell like an oozing bundimun."

"How dare you angel," George gasps as he reaches out to pull you closer. You immediately squirm away as you hold back a squeal.

"Shower then cuddles! No chance of me cuddling you both until you've had a good scrub," you laugh though you're being entirely serious.

Fred slinks away to shower, grumbling under his breath as he walks out, leaving just you and George in the room, both of you lounging perpendicularly on the bed.

"So what's our plan tonight?" You ask, reaching over to him to play with his hair, making his eyes flutter closed as he smiles, enjoying the sensation.

"We? Nothing angel, you're all Fred's tonight," George says with a smirk. You immediately stop your ministrations at the new information, not realising tonight would be Fred's night with you.

"What will you do?" You ask, realising only after you'd spoken how worried you sounded at the prospect of George being kicked out of his own room, unless Fred was taking you somewhere.

George simply smiles and winks at you, "that's not your concern tonight angel."

Fred comes back in a little while later, with only a towel wrapped around his hips and messy, drying hair which looks unbelievably good on him. George immediately heads towards the bathroom himself to shower and you're left alone with a cheeky, smirking Fred.

"See something you like princess?" He smirks, pretending to pose for you in his towel. You bite your bottom lip to stop your smile spreading but you nod anyway, looking seductively up at him. He immediately notices the look in your eye and his own eyes seem to darken in both realisation and arousal.

He moves closer to where you are lay on the bed and leans down to kiss you, his hand instantly cupping the curvature of your jaw.

"Do I get my prize now?" He asks, pulling away just slightly to press a kiss to the tip of your nose. You nod, unable to take your gaze away from him, watching how his smile breaks out over his face.

"Anything you want Freddie," you say breathily, a nervous excitement building in you at the thought.

"Get naked, right now," he says, giving you one last kiss before pulling you off the bed and taking your place. Arousal shoots over you at the thought of stripping for him and you briefly thanked yourself mentally for wearing cute underwear.

You take off your thin jumper, dropping it to the floor before shimming out of your jeans, wiggling your hips just a little more than usual. You peel the T-shirt off over your head in a way that briefly pushes your breasts together as you throw it down onto the little pile.

You hear Fred take a deep breath as you stand before him in just your underwear, a pale blue set with floral embroidery on, mostly see through in all the right places.

"You've been wearing that all day under your clothes?" He asks and you nod, biting your lip at his suddenly dominant tone. "Leave them on."

He reaches for you and pulls you by the hand to stand in front of him and immediately begins peppering kissed along the waistband of your panties; the wave of arousal at his actions has you uncomfortably wet already.

"On your knees princess," he says into the skin of your tummy, a little smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. He immediately opens up the towel he's wearing, leaving him completely nude before you. Your mouth waters at seeing his perfect cock already hard and leaking, virtually begging to be sucked. You look up into his eyes, finally managing to pull your gaze away from his body to see him staring at you in anticipation, watching your every move.

You begin to kiss his inner thighs, teasing him, making his hips surge up at the contact as you get closer and closer to where he needs your mouth. Each time to get closer, his cock twitches in anticipation and you have to hold back a little smug smile at seeing the affect you have on him.

You surprise him but licking a long stripe on the underside of his cock, from the very bottom right to the leaking tip. He gasps and curses at the contact, staring down at you as you focus on teasing him. His cock twitches again and this time you take pity on him and place his tip in your mouth, swirling your tongue around the sensitive head as he curses and drops his head back onto the pillows. You begin to take more and more of his beautiful cock into your mouth, deeper each time as your tongue works over him, giving him the best possible sensation you can.

His gaze flicks between watching you take his cock and squeezing his eyes shut tightly at the pleasure. You kiss down the seam of his balls and begin to take them into your mouth, toying with each one and giving them a little suck, earning you an even louder moan from him.

Suddenly, he pulls you away and stares at you for a moment, breathless and aroused.

He suddenly stands and towers over you, leaning down to press a kiss to your lips as you feel his fingers begin to toy with the thin straps of your thing. He roughly pulls it from your body until the tiny panties fall at your ankles, leaving your bare pussy exploded to him.

He kissed your inner thighs as you stand in front of the bed whilst he props himself on the edge of the bed, teasing you as you had him. His kisses move inwards and you can't help but rock your hips, trying to make his tongue make contact with your clit. He smirks, chuckling slightly before leaning in and licking along your pussy lips, getting a taste of you.

His tongue immediately drags down to your centre and he gathers up some of your pooling wetness, moaning as it hits his tongue before dragging his tongue through your folds and up to your clit. He teasingly circles your clit a few times in feather like motions before sucking on it, his mouth wrapping around your little bud and sucking in short sharp bursts, making you gasp and force your hands into his still damp hair.

He moans as your hips rock against his face until he suddenly pulls away and scoots up the bed so he's now lying back down. "Want you to sit that pretty pussy on my face sweetheart," he says, holding out his hand for you to grab onto.

He manhandles you into position, facing away from him so you're face to face with his raging erection and his mouth is in perfect reach of your pink pussy. His tongue finds your clit and you have to force yourself to hold back a loud shout at the sensation, finding that the new angle was absolutely perfect. You felt his tongue prodding at your wet little hole and you couldn't help but spill out a moan that earned you a swift spank your bum cheek.

Not able to wait any longer you immediately put your mouth back on his cock, sucking with everything you had as you wrapped your lips around him, hollowed out your cheeks and attempted to suck him right down. He moaned and growled into your folds at the feel of your mouth on his cock, fuelling him to lick faster and harder as he focused his attention on your swollen, pink nub that was desperate for him.

You felt yourself building to an almighty climax and couldn't help but roll your hips on his face, desperately chasing your orgasm. He moaned wildly as you began to ride his face, his big hands resting on your bum as he pulled you open, desperate to get as far into your pussy as he could.

You cried out, unable to stop yourself as your orgasm crested, the feel and taste of his cock in your mouth and his perfect mouth on your pussy was too much and you came all over his face. As soon as your orgasm began to drift away, his hips started jerking and you knew he was about to cum himself. He poked his tongue into your dripping hole as you moaned around his cock and he suddenly came down your throat, growling and groaning into your folds as his cock twisted violently in your mouth. You never stopped sucking him until you were certain he had rode out his orgasm, only stopping once he pulled away from you as his limbs fell limp on the bed. You crawled off of him, placing a gentle kiss to his tip before turning to look at him, seeing his eyes closed and a wide, satisfied smile on his lips.

"Merlin princess, think you just sucked my soul out," he says, still smiling and blindly reaching for you.

"Gingers don't have souls," you joked back, using the old time joke you'd heard time and time again.

He barked out a laugh before flicking open one eye, "I was trying to be sweet there," he chuckled and you join him, flopping down onto his chest as you rest your head on his shoulder.

He pulls you into a lazy but sensual kiss and you suddenly taste yourself, only fuelling the sensuality of it all. When he pulls away, his long fingers drift down to your bra which is still on.

"I really like this," he says as his fingers pluck at the little embroidered flowers over the blue material. "And the braids, actually. All of you really."

You look up at him and he has one of the most sincere looks in his eye that it momentarily shocks you, seeing so much adoration in them that you can only smile and burrow into his chest. He kissed the top of your head as you burrow and just holds you for a few moments.

"We really need to change these sheets," you say as you pull away to get dressed after one last kiss, "George will be mortified if he has to sleep on these."

You turn as your hear Fred let out a dark chuckle,

"Georgie isn't sleeping here tonight."

#emeritusemeritus #fred weasley #fred weasley x you #harry potter #fred weasley x reader #emeritusemerituswrites #fred weasley imagine #george weasley x you #george weasley #fred weasley masterlist #Fred Weasley x reader x George Weasley #Weasley twins x you #Weasley twins x reader

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crow101 · 19 days ago

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Question for the Harry Potter fandom

Would Tom Riddle, aka, Voldemort, willingly have a child?

I'm a fanfic writer, and I've been wondering if Tom would really ever consider, or allow, a child of his own to exist, as I've seen things that can point to both.

For example, Tom Riddle is said to be unable to care for people because he was born out of a loveless relationship and a Love Potion (His mum drugging his dad) so would he even truly love the child? Or would it be seen as a more possessive care 'I-created-you-so-your-mine' type thing. And would he even willingly have sex? We've seen that the thought of 'breeding' with muggles disgusts him, and he sees himself as higher than human desires like sexual interactions.

And having a child, he could see that as sharing his power, and we all know how he doesn't like that, along with all the complications of raising a child, even just choosing who the child's mother would be, it seems like something he wouldn't want to do.

We can't say he'd have a child to continue his legacy, as he plans to remain immortal forever and never pass his kingdom onto anyone. I just couldn't see him as willingly wanting someone like that, who would be born of his blood and assumed to be as great as his predecessor, walking around without having absolute control over them.

Now, if he did have a child, who would he have chosen? We know the witch would of had to been Pureblood, as he would have nothing else. Let's also not forget why he might have a child, he could have one to have a right hand that he could trust completely maybe, but right now I can't seem to think of a reason why he'd want something like that.

And again, how would he raise the child? In Riddle Mansion to spite his muggle relatives maybe? How would the child be treated? Of course he would teach them many different types of dark magic, and the expectations for the kid to be great would be an almost impossiblely heavy burden for a child.

So, would Lord Voldemort have a child, and all the things that would come after? Maybe, it depends on the situation I think. This was just a little ramble so I could get my thoughts out, so sorry if it's messy and hard to understand, thanks for taking time out of your day, and I'd love to hear your thoughts.

#harry potter #questions #writing #fandom #tom riddle #voldemort #fanfic #fyp #fypシ #tumblr fyp

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angelofviscera · 8 months ago

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you win......

types of fuckups you can do!!

okay so, the main one is an incorrect disposal. this is where teams just lob the ball as hard as they can instead of doing one of the 2 approved passes (kicking or handpassing). this gets the opposition the ball. in kids games generally this is not done on purpose so refs normally don't call it, but in adult games I see it all the damn time as on purpose cheating. one local team I watched would just punch the ball out from whoever was holding it and then tell the ref that the person who just lost the ball had incorrectly disposed of it and thus The Shitty Bitch Cheating Team were given the ball. (punching the ball out from someone is very much not an approved tactic)

another thing is getting caught with the ball, which is super fun. basically if someone has the ball and they get tackled, everyone else on the team will surround and essentially dogpile them in order to 1. slow the opposition's momentum and 2. get the ref to take the ball. if you get caught with the ball the opposition do not get possession, but you have to ruck for it! (rucking is also very fun, basically they get the ref to throw up the ball and the two tallest players jump up as quick as they can to hit the ball away from the other person)

and lastly is. sling tackles. my enemy. I've only seen these called in kids games cause they are SUPER FUCKING DANGEROUS and kids should not be doing them but the general consensus appears to be that adult games can do whatever they want. sling tackling is when someone grabs you by your jersey, swings you round (or attempts to) and then slams you into the ground and then slams their full body weight on top of you. it fucking hurts. there are a few teams in my sister's comp that teach their kids to do sling tackles even tho it gets them in trouble just so they can injure the other team and reduce the amount of players on their side. i don't know if you can tell but I only have contempt for these bastards. (side note: this is also how my mum got her arm broken the first time so. fucked even in adult games)

anyway sorry that's super long... this has been types of fuckups you can do

THIS IS WHY SPORTS IS SCARY

#this was actually a very good explanation its cool u know so much about. checks notes. AFL!!!#and ive done and seen rucking tons of times but never knew it was called that!!#and what the fuck i cant believe sling tackles are a THING that sounds brutal!!

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elderberries-and-honey · 10 months ago

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Eep!! Wintertime asks! And for some of my favorite pixels at that! How about ❄️🧤🧦?

Can I just say I love that you included the little sock emoji in this game? It's such a cozy emoji to me but seldom do I get the chance to use it.

❄️: What is the most intricate or detailed thing you ever had to do for your story?

Oof, so far, probably setting up this scene here. It's part of the beach in Brindleton near the large 64 x 64 lot so every single thing you see had to be moved using T.O.O.L which in itself has been an intricate thing to learn. Thistle & Honey had to be posed carefully as well because there actually aren't that many poses for cats (at least that I've found).

This shot in particular was a huge pain in my butt trying to get both cats to be posed in Winifred's lap in a way that seemed believable for their skeletons.

🧤: If you could magically touch any of your OC’s to bring them to life who would that be?

Winifred by far. I've said it so many times but she is my favorite Sim ever. I'd love to just chat with her because she has so many qualities that even as her creator still surprise me. I'd also like to give honorable mention to Jackson because even though he's a side character, his sense of 'old man' humor makes me laugh.

🧦: Character you’d most (or least) like to swap places with?

Most would probably be Lawrence. He's so confident and calm. He really strikes me as someone who makes the best of any circumstance which is a trait that I do not possess.

Least would be a tie between Valerie & Alice (Winifred's Mum). Valerie copes with her lonliness with alcohol and will never get over her fear of depending on another person and Alice has had to make sacrifices for her daughter that no mother ever should. My heart hurts for both of them.

Send Me A Winter Wonderland Emoji Ask! ❄️

#answered #aheathen-conceivably #ask games

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thepinkwriterr · 4 months ago

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Capricorn Season Chapter Thirty-Two

Author's note: Sorry I've been gone for so long! Life has been crazy. This chapter is from Peter's POV

Table of Contents

I've found abrasiveness is the most effective approach in life. I was small and meek in my childhood. People looked right past me--over my shoulder to more important, better people. It was only when I learned to defend myself that I truly came into my own.

When someone needs something done, they call me. I have become a man with connections and solutions. I know how to talk myself out of any situation, and can intimidate if needed. I've built myself from a block of granite and stone, from the ground-up. I put in all my effort to become who I am today---someone my family is proud of. Someone I am proud of.

I am lucky to have these people in my life and be blessed with riches I had never seen before. I dreamed of money and fame as a young boy, and I supposed I had achieved it. Many people do not see their dreams. I am one of those lucky few who have. Perhaps God just favored me and put a drop of luck in my cup. I drank from this cup now, as I sent checks home to Gloria and called Warren before bed.

I’ve always had an entrepreneurial spirit. I always wanted to make money. At night I would lie in bed and dream of all the riches Mum and I could have. I imagined buying her a house and getting her off her feet. I imagined cars and fame, people chanting my name, handing me money for no reason at all. I wanted glory.

I never set out to be an entertainment manager. I started working in a sheet metal factory, which only lasted three weeks. I knew there were bigger things in life that I wanted. I soon got a job working for Reuters, which wasn't very fulfilling either. I have learned that I am a working man, I get total happiness from my job. When I am not working, not making money, I become depressed.

Then I found the business. I worked my way up, starting with Wrestling entertainment, then being a bouncer, and then I ran a commercial transportation service, where I met Jimmy. It was in this world that I really found my knack.

Two years ago we met with Atlantic Records in New York. The band had just finished their first album–recorded in the studio's downtime–and we sat down to negotiate a deal. They wanted to fuck us at first. They offered a piddling deal with minimal rights belonging to us. I told them how I'd seen it, that they owned everything and we got nothing. I was stern, just as you had to be with these record executives.

I tried my best to ensure we were getting our end of the deal. Jimmy trusted me and I wanted to do right by him. I saw him as an honest person, something you don't see too much these days. I met him when he was a young lad, at the age of 22 when he was still vulnerable and excited.

Zeppelin is a complete marriage of all our ideas. I had a purpose with these boys. I really believe in their music. I took a chance on them because I admired Jimmy and his work ethic. He was a man I could see going far. And haven't we? For Bullock's sake, we're on another North American tour!

He had a shine to his eyes that only a fresh-faced man with that much talent could possess. I saw his immense drive and passion and wanted to wrangle that in. With a lesser manager, one that would take advantage of him, his talents would go unseen. He would fall into the cracks and die known as the short-lived guitarist for The Yardbirds.

Jimmy had a vision that I shared. We wanted to put our hands together and create a foundation for a supergroup. He wanted to blow the roof off venues and I knew how to make that happen. I think we were fated, in some cosmic and marvelous way.

Now, Gwen, on the other hand, was an obstacle. I had not been fond of her since the day we met. There was something about her eyes that just irked me. It was almost prophetic, how I could feel something brewing. Destruction is on the horizon and she is standing in the eye of the hurricane. A dark cloud encircles her.

I knew Jimmy was in trouble with this one. I tried to tell him so, but he didn't believe me. He just shoved my attempts away and told me he was in love. Perhaps she is perfect for Jimmy, but I hardly think that's a good thing. I prefer him when he's focused on the music and without a woman on his ankle. He says he's in love, but I don't agree. I think he's fallen in love with her insides and become a slave for sex. She has him whipped in a way I've never seen before. He didn't so much as look at another woman before she joined the tour. He was a new man.

Just the other day, Jimmy came to me and filed a complaint. He told me to quell Bonzo. He also told me I could not yell at her, which I found humorous. He did not appreciate the beautiful sound of my laughter. He just pushed his brows together and grimaced. His agitation was only pushed when I told him what I thought of her.

I find myself being right more often than not. I was right about Zeppelin, despite what the number of record executives said, I was right about Warren being a boy, and I was right about Brazil winning the World Cup.

And one thing I am sure of is that Gwen is a ruiner. Yesterday, I heard her talking to Robert about his tour habits and how to change them. She is poisoning our water supply! I don't want the boys to get distracted by her.

"Hold on, let me finish, you got to talk and so do I. I think she's a death call. She shouldn't be here and you know that. That's why you had to trick me."

He was silent, looking at me with slanted eyes and pursed lips. Could he have been trying to challenge me? I don't think he would even try. He stomped away, rather obnoxiously, and was gone quickly.

I knew they weren't going to last from this interaction. He didn't have the strength to stand up for his woman and she didn't know how to shut up. I knew this couple well, and their roles, as I had played them before. They would crumble and he would move on and get back to playing. I just hoped the music wouldn't suffer too much.

Ever since this conversation, I could feel his frustration with me. I had to whip him into shape and remind him who got him this deal. This angered him even more. He bared his teeth and flared his nostrils, speaking with burning vexation.

"Need I remind you whose band this is? I could fire you, you're under no contract."

"You're gonna fire me?" I laughed.

"If you keep speaking this way."

"Yeah, we'll see how well that goes. You'll be left with Richard." I parried his every attack and jab. He was not a worthy opponent. He was hilarious, how tiny he looked as he waved his arms angrily. He reminded me of Warren as a toddler. I patted his shoulder and let him walk away. I wasn't upset with him at that moment. That came later.

I actually admired his show of emotion. He was an austere man. He didn't emote or express how he felt most of the time. Now he was taking charge and putting his life into his own hands. It was a wonder to see this man grow up, but I felt he was misguided.

I wasn't angry with him because I knew how he felt. I remembered what it was like to be in love for the first time. They're in their mid-20s, possibly living together, and are inseparable. They're engrossed in each other's lives because they feel so deeply. She would be a lovely girl if she weren't impeding business.

In all his youthful vigor, he was fiery with his feelings of love. He took this relationship entirely too seriously. When you're young and in love, there is time to waste. He needs to frolic a bit more. I remembered my first great love, my first serious relationship, and regretted how bitterly it ended. It is the trembling hand of the first that cuts you the deepest. I wished not to see him this way, but I also need him to pull his head out of his ass.

She was impeding business. She was a constant distraction. Before she joined the guys were focused and calm. They understood that they were here for work, Jimmy especially. He doesn't care about the music as much as he once did. I can tell his heart is in her hands rather than in the music. Robert is wrapped up in this woman he's found, just the same. I can't stand that either, but at least she's pleasant.

They annoyed me a great deal. Not once have I enjoyed the sound of argument from these two. Day in and day out, always bitching and moaning. Gwen is the antagonist, she knows just how to push his buttons. She is an expert at getting under his skin and making a nest there. She's like a tick.

The next day we were burdened by the bickering of Bonzo and Gwen. He was yelling something about titties, and how the guys needed to see them. I laughed to myself and kept reading my paper.

I find myself becoming increasingly sick of her. She is a patch of turbulent wind on our smooth sails. I have worked entirely too hard to let some American girl ruin all we've accomplished. I scored us the biggest record deal, I overturned the power into the band's hands, and I run the numbers. I have kept a close eye on this band and led us to great heights. She will not be the reason we fail.

If she wasn't Jimmy's girlfriend I would've already kicked her off. I wanted to kick her off. But I couldn't. I settled on screaming at her. I reached my goal of shutting her up. She stomped off to her hotel room like a child.

He and Robert turned back up minutes later. Gwen and Jonesy had been muttering to themselves, criticizing Bonzo and talking about some girly book. Honestly, I didn't know Jones to be so soft. I thought he could have a crush on her, how much he cared for her. Every time she spoke he was fully listening. They were close, much closer than friends, and he looked at her the way a mosquito looks at a flesh wound.

He beckoned them all in and they returned shortly. The group was angry. A general feeling of tension sat on their faces. When Bonzo started in on her she responded with a petty demeanor. Basically, she was a bitch. She prodded at him with great force. Very unprofessional.

I returned to my hotel room as usual. It was dark and desolate. The only light–shining from the window–was the bright moon. It shone down with its fat, white back to me. I retired to the bed with a sigh.

I returned to my paper, triumphant for today.

I counted today’s stack. The promoter paid $2,000, which was to be split four equal ways after my cut. Ticket and album sales went to the accountant, who I happened to dislike. He was too excitable. The record company took care of flights and paying roadies. I had to arrange cars and drivers. I opened my suitcase and pulled out the secure envelope. It held all of my cash earnings from the last six months.

This bloody tour was going on forever. Tensions were high, always, but this one especially. Every moment was filled with emotion and drama, especially for the musicians. Richard and I, as well as the roadies, were not so much a part of this. The boys were like women in so many ways, how deeply they felt and how savagely they fought. I was almost surprised at Bonzo's aggression toward Jimmy's girl.

When the boys felt this way I always said, what's a little discomfort for all this money? But I was feeling it too.

I was thinking of Gloria. I thought about her face, the openness of her features, and the beauty of her cheekbones. I could've cried, I could've called to God at that moment. Anything to feel her softness under my fingertips once again.

The person who gets to see my soft underbelly is Gloria. She is the love of my life, the woman who makes the sun rise and the moon rest. I believe she was an angel put on earth for me. She gave me my wonderful child, Warren. That was a debt I could never repay.

Sometimes I filled her absence with the company of a strange woman. The familiar feeling of long-tipped nails on my skin became a welcome visitor nightly.

---

I was riddled with guilt. Every time I had to get in the car and leave for the airport I felt it. It settled into my skin on the plane ride. I was in tune with my own father-- walking his missteps in perfect time. Each time I had to say goodbye to Warren's little face and Gloria's wonderful embrace I could only think of everything I’d done when I was away from them.

I would not be alone in this feeling. The guys all longed for their lost homes. We were all ill on the road, inflicted with homesickness. We all had done things we weren’t proud of.

Taglist:

@anothercanyonlady , @jonesyjonesyjonesy @paginate54 , @seventieswhore , @jimmypages , @jimmys-zeppelin , @jimmysdragonsuit13

#jimmy page #led zeppelin #classic rock #robert plant #jimmy page fanfic #70s #rocknroll #dark academia #poetry #cottagecore

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fuzzydreamin · 1 year ago

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What The Companions Say About... Feral Ghouls!

I'm posting these just because I find the companions in-game reactions to things rather interesting. You might be surprised by what some of them have to say about certain things.

These are just their dialogues for during combat, and after combat or walking through areas inhabited by this enemy type. It does not include anything from specific areas, quests, or other dialogue.

⌨ Ada

⌨: It's difficult to fathom that these ferals were once human. ⌨: Be certain to check every feral corpse, they tend to carry items useful to humans. ⌨: Radiation exposure can have an astonishing effect on human flesh…. oh, forgive me… I tend to forget the company I keep. ⌨: Perhaps one day you'll discover how to communicate with these feral ghouls. ⌨: {an attempt at humour} Ferals feast on human flesh, yet leave each other alone. A bit overcooked perhaps?

☘ Cait

☘: Shamblers! Take 'em down! ☘: Come on, you rad-spittin' zombies!

☘: Damn, these things reek! ☘: Shamblers! I hate these wretched things. ☘: Best thing about killin' a shambler is that dry sound they make when ya snap off their limbs. ☘: Good, I've been itchin' to bust some shambler heads. ☘: Goddamn shamblers. Only thing they're good for is torchin'.

⚙ Codsworth

⚙: Feral Ghouls! ⚙: {Neutral} Let's put these poor creatures out of their misery.

⚙: {a sincere sentiment} Feral Ghouls, a sorry lot, indeed. To lose one's mind slowly like that. ⚙: {with some bravado / Concerned} Be wary of Feral Ghouls, mum. ⚙: {a sincere sentiment} One ought remember the folly of man created these Feral Ghouls. ⚙: {talking to cover his nervousness} I imagine the scent of Feral Ghouls is most unpleasant. ⚙: {talking to cover his nervousness} What irony that radiation heals the Feral Ghoul.

⚕ Curie

⚕: Monsieur Platt predicted this condition. It appears he was correct. ⚕: A "ghoul." Most intriguing. Starting recording. ⚕: Detecting an increase in radiation. ⚕: One must wonder, what causes the deterioration of this ghoul condition?

⚕: Some "ghouls" are in possession of their mental faculties. Others are not. Why? ⚕: Should ghouls be considered a new species? ⚕: I wonder if my oaths apply to ghouls, as well? ⚕: If you find any scientific journal articles on ghouls, I would be much obliged. ⚕: I should give a ghoul a full physical. I am certain the data would be very interesting.

♞ Danse

♞: Die, you godless heathen! Die! ♞: No mercy! Blow it's goddamn head off! ♞: Exterminate the heathens! ♞: Godless bastard! To hell with you!

♞: Skinwalkers, ferals, shamblers… call them whatever you like, but they're not human. ♞: Ferals might have been human once, but now they're scavengers of human flesh. ♞: If it was up to me, I'd make it my life's work to wipe these things off the face of the planet. ♞: Extermination is the best these ferals deserve. ♞: The only things ferals are good for is scraping the mud off of my boots.

🕶 Deacon

🕶: We got ferals. 🕶: Anyone got some holy water? I always wanted to try that on them.

🕶: I avoid ferals if I can help it. 🕶: Glory came up with the bright idea of putting ferals in the catacombs. Not a fan. 🕶: More ferals. Great. 🕶: Some jackasses call ferals "ghouls". Like ghouls don't have enough problems. 🕶: Bet you crapped your pants the first time you saw a feral. I know I did.

☠ Gage

☠: I'm doing you a favour here, slimeball. ☠: Keep your irradiated ass away from me!

☠: I ever start looking anything like that, I hope someone puts me down fast. ☠: Being a ghoul's a fate worse than death. ☠: They look like shit, but damn if they can't move. Watch yourself. ☠: God I hate ghouls. Never know when one is gonna pop out at you.

☣ Hancock

☣: {Apologetic} Sorry, pal. ☣: {A tad remorseful / Neutral} Had to be Ferals.

☣: {Question} Ghouls, huh? You lookin' to fix me up? ☣: {Neutral} Least Raiders and Mutants have the politeness to know when to die. ☣: {Neutral} Ferals sure make it easy to forget they were ever people. ☣: {Amused} Lotta good lookin' faces around here. You gonna introduce me? ☣: {Question} Wonder how close I came to going feral. Or maybe I did? ☣: {Neutral} Poor bastards. ☣: {Neutral} Hate to put down a fellow Ghoul. ☣: {Neutral} Shame. There were some lookers in that group.

☸ Longfellow

(All of Longfellow's lines have the {You're disgusted by ghouls and a little afraid of the idea of becoming one} note) ☸: Don't you worry, if I see you turnin' into a ghoul, I'll put a bullet in you quick. ☸: Damn… can't think of a worse fate than turnin' into a ghoul. ☸: Way I see it, killin' a ghoul's an act o' mercy. ☸: A ghoul's lost every shred of what once made 'em human. I'd rather be dead than one of them. ☸: They might look like shamblin' corpses, but ghouls are lightnin' quick. Don't let 'em flank ya.

⨁ MacCready

⨁: Feral over here! ⨁: {Mimic (mocking) zombie grunt noise} Eeeeehhhh! Shut up!

⨁: Oh good, ferals. Like shooting ghouls in a barrel. ⨁: I can't believe these things move so fast. ⨁: If too much radiation leads to looking like that, I think I'd rather die. ⨁: Yeah, they were people once. But trust me, their humanity vanished the moment they changed. ⨁: Oh god, not these walking piles of flesh again.

♥ Nick

♥: {Stern} Sorry, folks. Won't be chewing on us. ♥: {Stern} Nasty cannibals.

♥: {Neutral} Wandered into College Square on my own once. Never seen so many Ghouls in one place. ♥: {Neutral} Sometimes you can still make out the person in there. ♥: {Neutral} First time I met a Feral, I hoped it would ignore me because I wasn't made of meat. Guess they'll eat anything. ♥: {Neutral} Keep your distance. Ferals hit hard. ♥: {Sombre} Poor bastards.

✉ Piper

✉: {Neutral} Watch your digits, Blue. Ferals. ✉: {Neutral} Poor Ghoul bastards.

✉: {Question} Nasty cannibals… wait, are Ghouls cannibals? They don't eat each other, right? ✉: {Stern} These things stopped being people a long time ago. ✉: {Neutral} Mayor McDonough chased all the Ghouls out of Diamond City. I wonder if any of them ended up out here. ✉: {Neutral} Ghouls love to play peek-a-boo. Keep your eyes open. ✉: {Playful / Amused} I don't have to outrun the Ghouls, Blue. I just have to outrun you.

☀ Preston

☀: Ferals! Don't let them get behind you! ☀: Oh, dammit. Ferals. ☀: Come on, you zombie bastard.

☀: Those things are the worst menace in the Commonwealth. ☀: When I was a kid, these things gave me nightmares. ☀: The scariest thing about ferals is they used to be people like us. ☀: If I ever turn into one of these things, you have my permission to put two in my skull. ☀: You can smell these ferals a mile away, if you're down wind. ☀: Nobody seems to know exactly what makes a normal ghoul turn feral. Kind of scary.

☢ Strong

☢: Ghouls not worthy foes. Bad warriors. ☢: Human, shoot ghouls. Don't let ghouls get close. ☢: Watch for glow. Ghouls with glow are bad. ☢: Ghoul flesh taste bad. ☢: Worthless glowy ghouls.

☾ X6-88

☾: {Emphasis on "they"... disapproval} Ghouls... without the Institute, they'd be the future of humanity. ☾: {Urging caution} Careful, ma'am. Ghouls are quicker than they look. ☾: {Disgust} That smell... should have brought a breath mask. ☾: {Urging caution} Don't let the shamblers surround you. ☾: {Almost sympathetic} If you ask me, ma'am, killing a ghoul isn't murder. It's more like mercy.

-----

So, interesting stuff right? Some things I found noteworthy:

Deacon doesn't call ferals 'ghouls' and tries to seperate the two, as a kindness to non-feral ghouls. Hancock does not make this seperation.

Both Cait and Preston use what can be considered slurs against ferals, such as 'zombie'. The word 'shambler' also comes up a few times with Cait and others.

Danse's issues with ghouls seem to have some religious untertones. Not all that surprising seeing as he is from the Capital, where both pre and post-war religion is popular.

Ghouls do not ignore Nick and will try to eat him.

Gage, Longfellow, Mac, and Preston all claim that they would rather die than become a ghoul.

Longfellow even says he will shoot you if you become one. (I didn't include dialogue from quests and the like, but Danse also has a line saying he will kill you if you turn into a ghoul.)

#fallout #fallout 4 #fallout 4 companions #ghouls #fallout 4 dialogue #fuzzy.post #did some of these voice lines surprise you?

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thestarsarecool · 2 years ago

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John Lennon: Please, Your Majesty, Can Our John Have A Free Pardon?

Andrew Tyler, New Musical Express, 19 January 1974

Heavy breathing over the phone as ANDREW TYLER gets the lowdown from LENNON in L.A. Genius is police harassment, says the Walrus

DEAR QUEEN:

I don't know if you ever read the New Improved NME – if not, maybe some hepcat of the Royal Household will pass on the word.

Now that you've seen young Anne married off to her heartthrob cavalier, and what with Charles playing googlies with Lady Jane all around, maybe you'll have time to reflect on the dilemma of one John Lennon, a Liverpool slum-kid genius who used to play in The Beatles and who, at the peak of his career, committed a kind of revolutionary hara-kiri when he returned your MBE medal.

It was a far out medal, your majesty, ace Organic and nice on the chest, but it wasn't actually you as a mum and companion of the horses he was getting at. It was all that Services To Exports/Build A Better Britain/Screw the Man On The Factory Floor bit that brought a lump to his shaving bowl.

Anyway, after the medal-dumping ceremony he kept getting visited at queer hours by squadrons of policemen and, before you could say cold turkey John was being court-martialled for possession of marijuana – a substance he swears was absent from his life around this time.

He now lives in New York City but because of his record the authorities over there won't give him a Green residents' card, which means if he leaves the country he'll never be allowed back in.

So now, our Queen, it's all down to you. All you have to do is say "OK, you nurds, enough's enough. I pardon thee John Lennon, on your feet and have a nice new year", and everything's back to normal.

John's not one to beg and grovel at your Royal appendages, but on the phone recently he did say it would be a great way out. So what do you think? There's a whole bunch of us who'd love to see John over here again for the odd visit.

And you know something, it's the only thing preventing John. Paul, George and Ringo working together again. Paul, you see, also got busted for substances and he's not allowed into the States any more. Ironic, isn't it?

Love, etc.

"I WOULD HAVE thought I've done more good for Britain than harm, wouldn't you?" John enquired over a faint line from Los Angeles.

Yes, I would have thought so.

"Did I tell you about the commerical we've done for the new album? Hah. It's great. We have the Queen plugging the record for us. It starts inside the house with a gate swinging open, over a red carpet and then inside. It's all done in very good taste, Your Majesty. It's a friend of mine in drag, as it were.

"There's 'Land Of Hope And Glory' and someone says" (in a plummy warbling voice) "'I've been asked to do this commerical. It relates to a gramophone record...' and it goes on like that. I'm hoping her Majesty will be able to laugh at it."

He won't say who the friend is but here's a clue. He works for Apple and he's a real queen. The correct answer is not Allen Klein.

"A few vodkas and it was all over." John reports. "His identity will be revealed by himself. I'm not sure how much he wants people to know about it."

Did he see the bonding of Mark and Anne and was he profoundly moved?

"Who?"

Young Mark and Anne.

"Oh yes."

What was your reaction to that?

"I didn't really have one."

Did they show it over there?

"Yeah. They had it on from two o'clock till dawn, or something. So we had the single. We didn't get to see the album though. I thought they looked all right. But I didn't really feel that much about it. I thought Anne's figure looked nice. They should have held it in Belfast, though.

"I was thinking of writing to the Queen, you know. I hope she reads NME. Yeah. I was after a pardon for being planted by the cops and being hassled for three years and everything that happened. That's one way to solve the problem.

"That so-called bust I was involved in has left me with a criminal-record. That's the legal reason they're trying to throw me out. If that was taken away there'd be nothing they could do."

Now here's a weird twist to the murky affair. The cop who starred in the Lennon bust has, himself, been incarcerated for four years for perjury relating to a drug bust case.

Detective Sergeant Norman Pilcher has has just been put down for four years. At the trial all sorts of stuff came up. Conspiracy and the like.

But Lennon suspects the case of the malfunctioning blue meanie is unlikely to directly affect his own case...

"The thing is, that in those days we were clean. We didn't have any stuff. But they kept on hassling and hassling and bothering Yoko and the deal was that if they left Yoko alone – and she was pregnant at the time – I'd cop a plea.

"And now the real answer is for me to get a pardon...but because I'm a naughty boy I don't suppose they want to give me one."

What he's still trying to figure out all these years later is what those gloating reporters and photographers were doing outside his place when he and Yoko were being escorted to their cells. Jack Warner and Edgar Lustgarten had always intimated that an arrest was a reasonably private business...restricted to the "guilty parties" and the officers concerned. Why the jamboree?

Lennon has an explanation: "A friend of mine from Fleet Street gave me a call after he'd overheard a cop in a pub saying how he was going to get The Beatles. Yeah, was was gonna get The Beatles. Which meant me. I mean, he's not about to bust Ringo or Paul. I was really up for grabs what with Two Virgins and living in sin with a foreigner and all."

Is our Queen about to be sympathetic to Lennon's plight? Can she relate to her stone-turning expatriot? They'd hardly make suitable tango partners but they do have at least one common point of interest: The Goons.

Yessir. Like Prince Charlie, Sister Margie and Tony Legsstrong-Jones, the Queen is alleged to have chuckled along with the Goons after her Sunday joint...not unlike Lennon who recently reviewed The Goon Show Scripts for the New York Times.

"It was a bit like doing a school essay." he say. "But like all my generation I was really drawn to The Goons. In many ways they influenced The Beatles as much as rock 'n' roll – Elvis and Little Richard. They were, to my generation, what we were to the next.

"I admire them all – but I've always reckoned Spike was the real lunatic."

WHAT ABOUT the trench-coat warfare. Is he still being visited and molested by the American gendarmerie?

"A year or so back they were following me around everywhere I went But I suppose they must have got bored going to the studio and hanging around for hours at a time. And they were tapping my phone. I think they wanted me to know they were doing it too because I kept hearing heavy breathing. It scared me at first but now it's a bot of a joke.

"No, I wasn't on Nixon's list of unfriendlies but I was on somebody's list, that's for sure."

There's a pattern to it all, he suggests. Not necessarily a coordinated conspiracy but a series of connected happenings that have numbered all the leading 60's cult figures.

Lennon's marooned in America, McCartney outside of it. The Stones are having to tread very lightly indeed, and Hendrix, Morrison and Joplin are dead.

"If they can separate all the big names in pop they effectively cut off the, quotes, "revolution" at its source. No more Woodstocks. No more mass gatherings. The real changes aren't gonna come from politicians. It's going to come from the artists and musicians.

"Even Bowie is a threat in a way."

Explain yourself, sir.

"Well, if you get Bowie on TV and somebody switches on in Ohio or Bradford and they see this person looking out at them, it's going to affect their whole way of life. He doesn't have to say Power To The People Right On. He is the message in himself. It's like holding a mirror up to society. It makes people react in a specific way that's better than having them half dead listening to Sandy McPherson.

"I just think it's all great. I'm not saying I'd do it but people like Bowie are an extension of rock 'n' roll. He still rocks like shit and keeps us going until the next phenomenon, ho ho, which is going to be this year, isn't it?"

Maybe the very next sensation will be curvaceous Ringo whose single is hot stuff in the States and whose album leapt into the Billboard charts at 4 – two better than John's Mind Games.

"I sent him a telegram last week saying: 'Congratulations. How dare you. Write me a hit song.'

"It's the first real pop album he's made and it's a good album. He deserves it. He's going to need all the royalties he can get to paper Ascot" (The home he just bought from Lennon). "He's going to need that hit just to keep up the garden."

JOHN'S OWN album didn't receive quite the same dazzling response, although it's nowhere near the bunch of horselicks Tony Tyler suggested in his review a few weeks back. Tracks like 'Out The Blue', 'I Know (I Know)' and 'Bring On The Lucie' are sumptuous groovers that fairly parallel his work on Imagine. Honest.

Was he after the grumbling T. Tyler's noodles?

"I'm going to send 'im a deaf aid and a book of instructions on How to Write. Obviously I'd prefer it if he, or whoever it is, liked it – but I'm not about to cut my throat, if that's what you mean.

"A lot of times you get critics reviewing themselves, so if they do slag you off it doesn't mean anything or, if they overdo the praise bit, that means nothing either.

"Praise is never satisfactory unless you can be sure the person has actually listened to your work and knows it inside out. I'm not saying people should spend their lives making in-depth appraisals of me albums – but praise, or the other thing, doesn't count for much unless they've take the time to understand what you're doing."

Right On.

Actually John was due for a critical trampling. After the suffocating Best Album In The Universe stuff tipped over Imagine and The Plastic Ono Band LP, coupled with the knifings Paul has had to deflect since The Split. Lennon only had to put one foot wrong – as he did with Sometime In New York City – for the blades to be turned on him.

Critics were feeling remorse at the way they growled at McCartney and Lennon was the obvious target upon which to assuage their embarrassment.

"I would say New York City stands as a piece of work. It sold 200,000 instead of half a million. The whole thing's relative. If I'd been a smaller artist I'd have been pleased to get that amount of sales. I have no regrets...only that it didn't get a lot of airplay on the so-called FM stations of the Left.

"The only one that really got into it was Pacifica which has heavy programmes on politics, lesbians and things like that – anything people want to do. It's a pretty good station. Nationwide. They've even got tapes of Yoko and me from the Sixties singing Japanese folk songs."

Talking of oldies, he is now well into his Oldies Mouldies album, currently being waxed at A & M in Los Angeles with a spellbinding cast of several millions. On the guest list so far are, among others: Steve Cropper, Jim Keltner. Hal Blaine, Jose Felciano, Leon Russell, Jeff Barry, Barry Mann, and Jesse Ed Davies.

We called George the other day and said he was having a great time and wish you were here. George said he was on his way and hasn't been heard of since. Paul, of course, won't be able to make it.

"Yeah, I miss Paul a lot. It's been a year since I've seen him. He came over with Linda to me place in New York. Course I'd like to see him again. He's an old friend, isn't he?"

He says he can move around a bit more freely now...for meals and odd visit to the movvies.

"I still get recognised though. I think it's me nose. But I can generally go to the movies. The last film I saw was Behind The Green Door. (An extraordinarily rude film.)

How was it?

"The first 45 minutes were interesting, then it got a bit boring. When you've seen one cock you've seen them all."

#my articles #I have been asked to upload the full article #here ‘tis #'I thought Anne's figure looked nice'#John and Paul once again united #this time in their lusting for British royalty #literally what's wrong with them #also I thought the telegram to Ringo was nice #john lennon #the beatles #my quotes #full article

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