#it’s sad boy hours fellas

[mercurymacaroons]

arrives 15 min late with a latte

......sup

[bones-of-a-rabbit]

You’re hurt,,

But you’ll be okay, now, he thinks, more to assure himself than you

I’ll protect you better. You won’t be hurt. You won’t hurt anymore. I’ll make sure of it

(aka Space Ai! Eclipse can have a little bit of sad,, as a treat)

[strebcr]

Obviously Streber still loves fall, October and Halloween. Despite what happened It's still his favorite/birthday month and he still runs the haunted house each year. He's not gonna let Bob take away something he loves after all. If that happened it just feels like even in death that bastard still has power over him. However this month also brings some very bad seasonal depression, Streber would be lying if he said it didn't. Sometimes it just comes in waves and other times it just happens at random. When it does happen he normally just does his best to ride it out. There's not really much he can do besides that.

He knows this is a normal reaction to what happened, but it sucks to have this month related to that one shitty tramatic thing that Streber really had no power over and really no way to stop. Not talking about if feels bad but talking about it also feels bad. Even though Streber knows what happened was just a very bad case of wrong place wrong time, the fact that it could have been someone else in that haunted house is just such a scary thought. There's a dumb little part of his brain that still blames himself.

[strawbynrobyn]

Dressed masc to feel more comfortable at church service and vibe was ruined bc men's shirts don't account for big naturals

I still haven't cried about this revelation but it'll probably get me tomorrow

[musedriven]

a ' fallen angel ' huh? is that really what the populous was seeing him as these days? a criminal, a thief, a winged demon he could understand but a fallen angel? if he was a fallen angel then what did that make Krad? was he truly supposed to believe the narrative that he of all people was blessed by an angel's guise when all that angel had brought him was pain and torment?

he will never be free of the scars upon his back from the way the angelic parasite's wings ripped free each transformation. he will never be free of the isolation he is forced to endure to ensure Krad does not take form more than required. honestly he had hoped since it had been so long since Dark had last appeared that he might actually have been spared the so called blessing of his very dna.

but he was not so lucky and he was foolish to ever think he could be spared by the narrative of his own hallowed existence. all he wanted now was to be the one to put an end to this supposed battle of yin and yang and be free of the consequences of his very liniage.

but could he really do that to Daisuke? Daisuke who was just as innocent in this eternal struggle as he was. Daisuke who just like him never once asked for any of this parasitic existance among the world. Daisuke who knew exactly what it meant to be ripped in two and strung up like a puppet to anothers will and still found a way to find joy in existance. the only other person in this world who would ever truly understand him and chose to contnue to be his friend despite the risks it put him in.

in a different life ; would they have been able to truly be friends?

[buckyandgeraltsupremacy]

remus x shy!reader (part 4)

author: sj

warnings: fluff; angst for remus lol; reader is in hufflepuff; uses she/her pronouns; not edited

done with finals!! now battling the want to only read fics and not write, let me know if you want a confession from rem!!

masterlist

part 1 / part 2 / part 3 / part 5

---

it was the day of the date and remus had been up since 4 am. he couldn't stop thinking about your date. however bad he hoped it would go, he didn't want your first date experience to be horrible. he wanted you to be treated how you deserve and to have a lovely time while also never ever wanting to see the fool again. and that is why he had woken up at 4 in the morning and couldn't stop the fight in his mind.

it was 11:30am and he was laying on the couch in the common room, one foot on the ground tapping constantly. the boys had decided to stay in this morning because james was worried they'd run into you and that sirius would end up embarrassing you and ruin your date.

"moony, if you don't stop tapping your foot, i'm going to lose my mind." sirius grunted, head in his hands covering his ears from the tapping noise.

"she should be done with her date now, right? its been 2 hours. why isn't she back yet?" remus asked.

"relax you love sick dog. your precious wife will be returned soon." sirius replied dramatically, rolling his eyes at how abserd this whole situation was. "if you had only confessed your love for her when you had the chance, she wouldn't be snogging another fella while you fumed the whole time." he added. remus shot upright on the couch with a wide eyed expression and a look of dread covering his features.

"here she comes!" peter shouted, holding the marauder's map in his hands, walking into the common room where the other boys were. all of their heads turned towards the portrait hole where it swung open and you stepped through.

you were excited to tell the boys all about it, but you weren't quite expecting them to all be staring at you when you got back.

"well, hi." you said, cheeks flushing more than they already were, glancing towards the floor to not meet their eyes. you sat down on the couch next to remus like normal, not sensing the tension in his body, only feeling their eyes on you.

"WELL??? i need all the details. spill your guts flea!" sirius cried across from you.

"it was okay! it wasn't bad! but it also wasn't great. like it was pleasant but it wasn't anything to write home about. is that good? like are you supposed to know if you want to marry him already?" you rambled, entire face flushing and not meeting their eyes.

"aw, hoppers. i'm sorry it didn't go well." james consoled you.

"what do you mean?" you asked, confused why he sounded sad for you.

"well, it didn't sound like there was any chemistry, that's important if you're gonna date someone." james explained.

"flea, i know it's your first date ever, but even i thought you'd know that." sirius shrugged. at the mention of it being your first date, you tensed and shot a look a remus, hurt that he spilled a secret to the boys. remus met your gaze with a look of panic.

"that wasn't me! i swear it! i didn't tell them!" he yelled.

"oh he didn't tell us, but the way you were acting before was kind of obvious and the fact that remus would've known that you were dating someone before you were part of our group and you certainly haven't since we've been friends because of remus' behavior." sirius explained, you relaxed and reached to touch remus' leg.

"sorry for thinking that you told them when you didn't ." you apologized and remus nodded back.

"its fine bun, i'm not hurt." he said, covering your hand with his.

"so hoppers, did you snog him?" sirius asked crudely. your cheeks flushed bright red.

"that is none of your business sirius! and a lady never kisses and tells!" you exclaim, avoiding all their eyes. "i told him that it would be best if we were friends, and he agreed. i don't think dating is for me, i just got so anxious before! and the thought of having to go on another date, just makes me nauseous." you say, leaning onto remus' shoulder and resting your head.

"thats okay, bun. you don't have to date if you don't want to." remus patted your thigh, his heart soaring that he won't have to go through this again. he knew he'd have to tell you that he liked you soon, the thought of you with someone else almost killed him.

"thanks rem." you mumbled back, sinking deeper into his side.

sirius observes this going on, looking to james and mouthing, 'are they fucking idiots??'

james simply rolled his eyes in response.

[therealslimshakespeare]

Dear John || Pt.1

Masters of the Air Fanfiction

Requested: ☑️ My sweet Bri begged for a love-letter-centric Egan fic and with her wonderfully infectious ideas this was produced, the first part of many.

Summary: Major John Egan wasn’t the pen-pal sort but a couple of hours into a dark night full of writing condolence letters, he finds himself wondering why he never tried his hand at the nicer forms of correspondence. Who better to reanimate his numb inspiration than the glamorous Miss Lana Tierney? -the army��s girl next door, the pinup so prolific she was practically a wall paper print and Bucky’s long-standing cinematic crush. It’s not like she’ll read it anyways, tucked up in luxury in Beverly Hills with carts of tedious fanmail burned in her back yard each day, his letter will get lost in the mix. It’s harmless. That thought -and the booze- may loosen his pen a little too much but it’s alright, it’s not like she’ll read it. Right? Right.

It was specified in the request to use or create some of those old WWII dirty acronyms, so in here you have Bucky making up his own for his starlet crush (acorn). I’m ripping off a few ladies here, Lana Turner, Betty Grable, Hedy Lamarr to name a few -the moodbaord is for general aesthetics, I try to keep my fem!readers and oc’s as ambiguous physically as possible. (Besides the fact Johnny Egan finds you mouthwatering, which -be honest with yourself here sweet thing!!- he would.

Rating: 18+ this is the letter writing, vintage form of sexting. i kid you not, this man swings wildly from sweet as pie to downright filthy and vintage slang for anatomical parts is used freely. This would make a better shameful diary entry than a letter but he’s a rogue and he’s in a war, cut him some slack.

Fun game: how many times can Major Egan manage to mention Buck in a horny fan letter to his crush?

Dear A.C.O.R.N.

It is highly unlikely that you remember me, but, all the same, we have met. Now, hear me out, I’m sure fellas say that to you all the time but my point still stands and to match them I’ll do you one better, seeing as how I am not buttering you up for something in return -I have met you, yes, but I have also sung to you.

There. Said it.

Not that you’d recall that either, but then again maybe you would, but either way it doesn’t matter as the entire reason I am writing to you is because it is entirely unlikely you will ever open this god-awful endeavor made of pen and ink.

I am quite drunk, you see.

A necessary medicine. And they do make good whiskey here, one of the few joys they haven’t rationed yet. It’s got me wondering what’s your poison of choice. Something fruity? Or are you an olive sucker? Like that salt on the rim? Or maybe you go for somethin’ silky and warm goin’ down your throat? Which-ever it is, I bet you’d be a surprise, sweet ACORN, I just know it. You were a surprise at the canteen. Back in Jersey? Before shipping out? I know you were on a whole tour and kisses were goin’ for dollars but still, you were a surprise.

A lovely one, really. And that’s the point of this letter. To tell you that you're lovely and while I’m not the pen-pal sort, I’ve written home 80 letters tonight to families whose boys I was supposed to bring home. It got me thinking: Bucky, why the hell don’t you write nice letters? Whyd you only write ‘em now that you gotta? And it occurred to me then that the one silver lining in this whole Air Exec job is the desk, the lamp and the office.

I could write anybody from here. I could write you.

And you wouldn't read it so I could write anything. And it could be a nice letter. ‘Cause I don’t know anybody of yours to tell you anythin’ sad about them and you don’t know me except that I’m alive and drunk. Which is better than those poor eighty two bastards. Which reminds me, I’ve still got two more but maybe Buck will take those, he took seventeen off to his bunk to write from there. Buck doesn't have a desk because he’s not as important as me and he has all the luck.

You’ve met Buck, too, Acorn. He was the appalled pretty one with the straw colored hair pulling me off you after we had our duet. He objects to your nickname, see, even though you didn’t seem to mind. You were lovely, A.C.O.R.N. And I’d not wanna ruin this letter by telling you what it means, not now that I’m actually writing to you and determined to be nice but Buck knows and while he agrees with me as much as any man in the nation that you’ve got the most robust rack on the silver screen -he has objections, you see. So it wasn’t the song or the canoodling he didn’t like, and I still say, he broke up a little love affair that night. Bastard. So I’m writing to you now because as the acronym suggests, I’ve got a goal in my mind in regards to you. I tell myself -Bucky, there’s reasons to make it back.

Reasons, Bucky, reasons. Like Acorn and her halo of gorgeous hair that smelled like coconuts and the way she thought my new lyrics were pretty clever. That’s what you said, acorn, you said they were pretty clever. Now I may have been a little drunk then, too, but I think you might’ve been tipsy, that coke smelled too strong to be straight. I still have the straw you gave me, it’s bent to hell but I’ve taken it up each mission. I’m not counting on it for luck so much as a reminder of the aforementioned reasons. To come back. Your lipstick has mostly worn off but I figure it’s still the same.

You had your precious lips around it. That’s what matters.

And that’s the sorta sentence that makes Buck think I shouldn’t write letters.

But what he can’t accuse me of is being dishonest or vague. I’m being straight with you. You deserve that much, you were lovely and very straight shootin’ yourself, dear little girl. I could pinch your cheeks right now, you’re so sweet. And don’t think me a coward for sayin’ all this under assumption that you won’t read it. I hope you don’t since it’s not worth your time and if you do I wish I’d written less about me and more about you but I need you to know if we were face to face I’d say the same:

You were lovely, you ARE lovely!!!! and I think all your work for us boys is swell and you’ve got the bestest set of knockers any of us have ever seen and I’m stayin’ alive in hopes to see ‘em again some day and while the girls here are swell and sweet they aren’t zippy like you. At least not the ones who’ve put out so far. And if I had you face to face, I’d find a way to make you laugh again and I’d tell you to your face you’re lovely and if I’d been David Nivin in Love Trap with you, I’d have stayed in that little kitchen with you and ate all your burnt flapjacks and watched you in your apron and made babies with you till we were old.

Anyway. It needed saying. And maybe I’ll say it to your face given the chance again. I was working my way up to a proposition for burgers and milkshakes when Buck ruined it. But maybe you’ll tour? Here!! Over here. In England or maybe in Europe once we kick the Nazis bastards out.

Now that’s motivation. That’s a reason! -clear out a nice little swath of land through fortress europe so Miss Lana Tierney can sing in the city of lights surrounded by nothin’ but wine and good food and a buncha boys who love and appreciate her.

Because we do, ma’am. We do.

And make no mistake, I do this to keep the country safe and try to bring as many boys home as I can but every second I also think - it’s where you are too, and so I must continue keeping it safe.

If you, by some godawful chance, do read this letter, please don’t feel pressed to respond or pull out a restraining order. Think of it this way, it’d just be one more “Dear John” letter and the system is clogged as it is. You just deserve a nice letter and my wrist is past sore, one more doesn't matter. And being unable to deliver nice, I’ve written this.

~ I am ever your respectful (and hammered) admirer, Maj. John Egan

P.S. if you do happen to read this I’m sorry. Buck told me not to do this but I just had to Acorn. You’re just too swell and I really have got to get myself to a theater before long, I miss your Angel face.

Masterlist

Thank you for reading! This was entirely out of my usual comfort zone but I’ve had fun writing it and I’m trying to tune my ear to pick up his voice, that’s been stretching. This series will have many letters in it but there will also be fic, so fear not. I’ve got some plans already figured out for this series but I do love a suggestion or ten so have at the inbox with what you’d like to see play out.

Hope you enjoyed, if you’d like to be tagged in future MOTA fics, drop a note below.

[aetherdoesthings]

luffy cuddling with his S/O headcanons or scenario(I prefer scenario but is your choice!) have a good day/ night!

elo! i hope you have/had a good day/night too!

forethoughts: fellas, i'm starting to run out of conversation starters and continuers. send help. also wouldn't it be cool if i got 7 more followers, and then maybe host a qna or something like that when i break 100? idk just a thought 🤷.

notes: gn!reader

When it comes to cuddling, you have a mix of emotions when it comes to your partner. 

On one hand, Luffy was the best cuddler you could ever imagine. He could (and would) stretch his body as long as he needs to wrap his arms around you and make you feel comfortable and safe.

Also, Luffy is naturally a playful person, so when he cuddles with you, you could always expect a lot of tickling, poking, and playful banter. He loves hearing your laughter and your futile protests for him to stop; he’ll do anything to elicit some sort of reaction out of you.

Luffy loves taking naps on your body too, placing his head on your chest to hear your steady heartbeat and breathing.

I’d imagine Luffy being a pro at pillow talk. Even though he seems like an airhead, he can always have a deep conversation with you if you want to have one with him, and would love to hear about whatever’s making you anxious or sad.

But even though Luffy can give you 7 hours of heaven, he doesn’t dish them out on a regular basis. Luffy slept anytime he wanted, napping on deck, out in open danger, anytime he was tired he’d sleep. That left him pretty hyper and awake at night, with all those naps he took in the day. 

If you asked him prior, Luffy would cuddle you and give you your 7 hours of heavenly affection, but it was rare to see the boy come into your shared room every night to cuddle you to sleep.

It’s not that Luffy doesn’t want to cuddle with you; he loves those 7 hours as much as you do, but that his brain requires some sort of stimulant at every second. 

There was also that question if Luffy had showered before getting into bed with you. But after one incident, it became mandatory that Luffy had to shower before getting into bed with you.

All in all, Luffy loves to give you affection and as much affection as he could, IF you can stop him from napping all day and if he had showered before.

[syoddeye]

been listening to 13 hours of music straight and refining my 141 playlists, so here are some of the songs i associate with the fellas. for the two people who care:

Price

note: his are so heavily influenced by for the record and probably make zero sense

Love Hungry Man by AC/DC

Crush by Cigarettes After Sex

Just Can't Get Enough by Sheer Mag

Bless the Telephone by Labi Siffre

Don't Go to Strangers by J.J. Cale

Please Please Please Let Me Get What I Want covered by Deftones

Gaz

Don't Play No Game That I Can't Win by Beastie Boys, Santigold

My Number by Foals

Smooth Operator by Sade

All Night by Example

Slumber by MicahTron, Blimes

Nice to Have by 070 Shake

Ghost

Dirty Deeds Done Dirt Cheap by AC/DC

Every You Every Me by Placebo

Red Flags and Long Nights by She Wants Revenge

Devil I Know by Suki Waterhouse

Crush by Ethel Cain

Blue Monday covered by Orgy

Soap

Doses and Mimosas by Cherub (someone said frat boy soap and i said yes)

I'm Your Dog by MACKandgold

There's a Girl in the Corner by The Twilight Sad

An End Has A Start by Editors

Insane in the Brain by Cypress Hill

Security by Amyl and the Sniffers

[missezramay]

ted lasso, post-finale thoughts.

I went into the finale thinking yeah, if the writing serves, I can accept any outcome even if it's not exactly what I want. Instead, I was hit with a plethora of mixed emotions I didn't expect to have. Confusion, anger, hurt, annoyance, small bursts of joy in between, and just deep sadness. Almost 20 hours later and I'm still incredibly dissatisfied and processing. For the most part, finales should provide a feeling of celebration and relief. I... don't feel any of that.

I'm just really trying to pinpoint why I'm so sad.

Of course everything inevitably has to come to an end. Of course Ted was always going to reunite with his kid. Of course it's not about winning or losing. Of course Tedbecca can remain platonic if that was always the plan. Of course that's the way life goes, but...

For a show (and this season particularly) that constantly encouraged us to 'believe' and 'hope' in the idea that 'everything will work out', all those 75 minutes did was take me on an unsettling, emotional journey for no concrete reason other than to mess with the audience (the opening scene was just adding salt in the Tedbecca wound I've had since S2). Because everything in a macro sense, "worked out". But the WAY it "worked out" does not sit well with me?? And it's supposed to? For a lot of people (on Reddit/Facebook, lol), it was enough?? Richmond not technically winning and Ted leaving like that without so much as a tear? What am I missing??

When I tell you I'm trying to embrace the good parts, I'm really trying. Yes to KBPR & the women's team, Yes to Colin kissing his fella, Yes to Rebecca & Mae & the guys owning the club, Yes to Roy becoming Manager.

So... why am I still so upset? Hmm, let's see.

The boys' musical number? The cutest. Ted didn't think so.

Nate's apology? Heartbreaking. Ted didn't bat an eyelash.

Rebecca begging twice for Ted to stay? Ted, absolute silence.

Beard staying/getting married in London to his toxic gf? Comic relief, haha, fine. Except Ted wasn't there as Best Man.

Don't even get me started on the huge disservice to the Roy/Keeley/Jamie triangle.

Now listen, I get that he misses Henry & Henry misses his dad. I'm not that cold. A father/son's love is important. It was always the catalyst for this show; for him to work on himself so he can be a better father unlike the one he grew up with. That's fine.

But on this particular week. His last week with his Richmond family. There was NO sense of him being sad to leave them. He can be sad about missing Henry but he can ALSO be sad about leaving. No, he just completely checked out. He let everyone pour out their hearts (Hannah's getting her third Emmy, mark my words) to him, and he just stone-faced the entire time.

THIS DOES NOT MAKE ANY SENSE TO ME.

The argument is that he was internally processing, he was overwhelmed, he was trying to distance himself so it would hurt less. Fair points, okay. But this is a television show, moreover, A FINALE. TV characters, while relatable, are heightened versions of ourselves, there so we can better process our emotions and learn to handle things better in our real lives. Ted deserved MORE dialogue and displaying MORE emotion than whatever this was.

We're never going to see him again. We're over here crying along with Rebecca, Nate & Beard, but he didn't sob once. Even though he spent three years building a family with them. I even thought, hey at least he left his legacy with Trent's book but newsflash, he wanted his name taken off that too! Complete erasure.

I just feel so robbed of better moments. Like there were nice moments here and there. But they could've been BETTER. Honestly, Nate & Rebecca's breakdowns were close to perfection, so much love there. But the lack of dialogue and Ted not reciprocating? Broke ME.

I just cannot. understand. this. choice.

Massive sigh. I'm just truly baffled by the way everything wrapped up and not getting the satisfied feeling that one half of the viewership got. Maybe I'm in the minority, but that means something. It carries weight. Also, for a "three-season arc" that was planned well in advance, why all the rewrites and parallels and fakeouts... it's just cruel. But as the theme says (and maybe this was a warning all along), yeah, I guess this might well be it.

This show has given us so much and the last season flailed for the most part. I don't want to disrespect the show by being negative and cynical (looks like I failed!!) or cast blame on anyone in particular. The cast/crew are amazing people and I'll be grateful for being a part of the journey but I'm just so sad and this feeling sucks and I will never get over it.

Going to miss them. x

[harrisonarchive]

At the Top Ten Club in Hamburg, Spring 1961; photo by Jürgen Vollmer.

“But actually, I love Paul, he’s my mate, and it doesn’t matter what they say in the papers, they’re not gonna get much mileage out of that one.” - George (on an alleged feud with Paul), Aspel & Company, March 1988 “There’s always a place in my heart for Paul… and Linda.” - George Harrison, Musician, March 1990 “‘It was very very sad because I loved him so much. I’d just been through cancer with Linda and here I was going through it all over again with a mate of 50 years. He wasn’t my immediate family but he almost was. He’d always felt like my little brother.’ [Paul] takes a breath, focuses on a point in the distance, mutters ‘What a lovely boy’ then carries on. ‘The last time I saw him, he was very sick and I held his hand for four hours. As I was doing it I was thinking “I’ve never held his hand before, ever. This is not what two Liverpool fellas do, no matter how well you know each other.” I kept thinking, “he’s going to smack me here.” But he didn’t. He just stroked my hand with his thumb and I thought “Ah, this is OK, this is life. It’s tough but it’s lovely. That’s how it is.” I knew George before I knew any of the others and I loved that man. I’m so proud to have known him. Still, as sad as it was, you take the great bit, which was the last time you saw him, and that’s what you remember. That and all the other lovely memories.’” - The Mirror, April 7, 2003 “‘Those guys’ inability to express love for one another was classic,’ [Clapton] says of the Beatles. ‘The exception is Ringo, who says [in the Concert for George film], “I love George, and George loved me.” That wouldn’t have been so easy for Paul.’ McCartney shines, playing ukulele and duetting with Clapton on ‘Something,’ and singing lead on ‘All Things Must Pass.’ In rehearsals, says Clapton, ‘Paul had to admit that he didn’t know “All Things Must Pass,” and that was an awful thing to confront. It was huge humble-pie stuff for Paul to be among these people who he may have thought had a better relationship with George than he did. But I believe Paul missed George as much as — if not more than — anybody.’” - Rolling Stone, October 9, 2003 (x)

[heckinconfusedparade]

(Just a heads up, I don’t take requests through dms, or do requests that include movies. This is my one time exception. Ask box is closed for a reason, fellas!)

It started as Sonic’s idea, funnily enough.

Tom and Maddie aren’t home, and it’s dark and raining outside, which according to Sonic, is peak horror movie hours.

While scrolling through Netflix, Tails mentions that he heard IT was a good one. When asked who told him that, he said the big kids at his school were talking about it. He doesn’t like horror movies, but he likes fitting in and having something new to talk to people about, and making friends.

Knuckles is unsure. Not scared… just concerned about the content they’re about to consume.

Sonic heard “IT” and his heart sank to his toes. He knows that movie has a fucking clown in it, and he DOES NOT LIKE CLOWNS! He tries to get Tails and Knuckles to accept another option, but no. This is his fate now.

Knuckles isn’t frightened. He’s confused. Why is this clown hunting down the kids? Why is this one kids mom giving her kid “gazebos”? What is this “DiRtY lItTlE sEcReT”?? He enjoys the wholesome moments between the kids, and while he finds the gore unrealistic, he understands that it’s only a movie, and it won’t be realistic because like.. look at it. Overall, he enjoyed it!

Tails was a little spooked, but that’s because he doesn’t like body horror type things. The bullying scene hit a little close to home and made him sad (he was never attacked with a blade, thankfully) but seeing the boy make new friends made him happy again! He found the placebos thing interesting. Some things had him a little more shaken, and he won’t be going near any gutters anytime soon, but he thought this was a solid horror movie…. It’s the only horror movie he’s seen, actually.

Sonic had a terrible time. Every second Pennywise is on screen is a second he’d rather not be here for. He left many times to “get snacks” or “get water” but his bros knew something about this film set him off. While he’s actually sitting in front of the screen, he’s got his little brother curled against him to “protect him” but honestly, he was only comforting himself with a fluffy and adorable distraction. He’s sweating. He didn’t jump, he swears on his racecar bed. How dare you say he did? He didn’t pay attention well enough to enjoy anything. He zoned out to escape the discomfort.

Enjoyable movie. A good one. We don’t talk about the book.

Thank you @typicalrevolution for the prompt!

[kiwi2229]

Books and stories

(James Potter / Regulus Black | 553 words)

For @jegulus-microfic prompt: Hero

James is lying on the soft covers of the bed making complicated movements with his wand. He learned a spell where you can basically paint into the air, making the colourful dots swirl around, mix them together and separate again. It’s not useful other than it calms his mind. It captures all his attention for hours absolutely fascinated by the colours.

The only sound in the come-and-go room is the soft crackling of the fire in the fireplace at the back of the room and Regulus occasionally turning over a page in his book. James doesn't notice the sounds until one of them stops. That’s why he looks at Regulus. It was too long since the boy moved.

Regulus is sitting on the bed his back resting against the headboard. He is watching James, the book lying in his lap. Something is different. Regulus sometimes watches him with tenderness in his eyes. The tenderness James absolutely adores is not there now. No. James can see something else. Sadness, worry.

“What’s wrong, love?” He asks snapping Regulus out of his head.

“Nothing,” Regulus answers immediately. “Just thinking.”

“Yeah, don’t do that. It makes you sad, I can see it.” James flops himself on his stomach resting his head on his folded arms. “You don’t like the book?”

Regulus looks down to his lap. “No, it’s nice. It’s just… the main character reminds me of you.”

James raises an eyebrow with interest. “Is he hot?”

Regulus barks out a startled laugh. “It’s a book, James.” The other boy rolls his eyes. “Oh, come on. Don’t tell me your wild imagination is not providing any images. Okay, at least tell me what he is like.”

“Lots of courage, high moral principles, show-off, but not a single self-preservation brain cell in his head.” Regulus deadpans.

“He sounds like a good fella,” James smirks. “So is the hero of the story?”

“Yes,” Regulus answers and James can see it again. The sadness in Regulus’ eyes as he watches him. James doesn’t understand. Isn’t that the point? The higher achievement to be the hero?

“He will never be happy, James,” Regulus explains. “He will sacrifice everything to save the world. He will tear himself apart just to do the right thing. He will probably end up completely alone in the world he doesn’t know anymore, or he will die saving it. It’s tragic really.”

James frowns. “But he will save them. Why wouldn’t he be happy? Maybe you read just sad books, Reggie, the books I’ve read have happy endings.” He tries to lighten the mood, but Regulus just gives him a pity look.

“Do they have a happy ending or does the story stop at the right point not showing what comes next? When you give everything up, what is there left?” James doesn’t like this conversation. He can see Regulus having a point, heros always get hurt. But that’s their destiny, isn’t it? They serve the greater good so no one else gets hurt. They bare it so others don’t have to. James would, he knows it in his soul.

“It’s just a story, Reg.”

“Aren’t we all stories in the end?” Regulus ask and James knows this conversation is something he will remember forever for some reason.

“Yeah.” He breaks out. “So, let’s make it a good one, hm?”

[bubuslutty]

Captain Price's lessons

pairing: Runaway bride!fem reader x pirate!captain price feat. Banished pirate!König

word count: 946

tags: she/her pronouns, no description of appearance, proofread by me so sorry for any mistakes, masturbation, making out

warnings: nsfw

summary: Pirate!captain Price and his runaway bride teach König how to pleasure women in exchange of him letting Price's bride use his cock and cum. A huge thank you to @ahoeformando for coming up with the delicious idea of (previously) banished pirate!König.

To read about our wet sad boy, read the reblogs of this post.

Captain Price is so so mean, he's cruel actually, straight out the fucking devil, why? you may ask. Well, because König said so. (in his head, at least)

When König agreed to their little offer, which consisted of them teaching him how to pleasure women in exchange of Price’s bride using his cock and cum, König quickly realised how much she really wanted it, and that made him heat up unbelievably fast in arousal but also his ego to swell with pride, just a bit tho, not too much, or the Captain would know.

König was shy sometimes and anxious most of the time, but when he was attending their private lessons, he would feel incredibly annoyed, straight out pissed, at himself and his cock, but also at his Captain because he was such a fucking tease (in König's head).

First rule, look, don't touch.

And the first lesson was how to kiss, properly.

König usually sits on the sofa, facing the Captain's desk, while the two give him a live demonstration right then and there of whatever they're teaching that day.

And so that first lesson consisted of the Captain talking to König through how to kiss someone, well, make out really. While his bride was hanging off his neck, tired of his hands running up and down her body, squeezing around her flesh and lightly slapping the skin of her thighs and ass, to say the least, she was horny and was begging for a kiss at that stage.

König was fascinated, the Captain barely did anything and he riled her up, but he guesses that's also the magic of being in love.

"See, if you touch 'em just right, they're all yours, see." The Captain spoke, voice deep and scratchy and so so warm while König watched with wide shiny eyes.

Price's sweetheart was trying her best to be patient but was getting really desperate for his warm lips on hers, and to feel his beard scratch her soft skin. So she pressed herself more against him, chest to chest, arms wrapped around his neck, head tilted up and begging for a kiss.

"Hold on, sweetheart, we're here to teach König, can't be thinking of just yourself, can you?" John says, stroking her jawline with his thumb and smiling down at her.

And this is how it goes, John kissing her breathless until all she wants is to rip his clothes off and sick on his dick for the next two hours and John has to stop her.

Not because he didn't want her to use him, but because it'd be too much for sweet ol' König. They have to take this slow, or they'll scare the poor fella away.

When König eventually gets a boner, which happens literally all the time. They'll let him leave and take care of his problem on his own, at the beginning because he was shy. Then König would take care of his problem right there while his Captain and his pretty bride watches.

And she'd have stars in her eyes, sparkling in a thousand lights as she watches with awe as König strokes his heavy big cock. And she's not allowed to touch him, or even say anything to encourage him to cum, because König will literally combust then and there.

But it doesn't stop König from shaking all over when he catches the look on her face, the unfiltered hunger and lust in her eyes as she stares at his full heavy balls and cock, and he gets embarrassingly wet, his tip spitting precum, mixing with his sweat, as the sound of him stroking his cock fills the Captain's cabin, and he almost cums then and there when the smell of tobacco hits his nose.

König's allowed to stroke himself to completion at the end of each lesson, but he's not allowed to touch himself during lessons. Because according to Price, he needs to focus wholly on the lesson and show discipline and self control, they're teaching him something, they're just not giving him free wank material.

Or Price is the meanest motherfucker in the universe and into edging poor König.

Whatever it is, König can handle as long as Price's bride keeps looking at him with those pretty eyes of hers while she hums and dreamily sighs when he tells her about his childhood or the boring jobs he did before joining Price's crew. He likes how she looks at him when the days run hotter and he has to get rid of his sweat drenched shirt to keep working. He likes how she looks at his eyes and smiles at him with all the sweetness and kindness in the whole world in a little (compared to König) tight body.

He's not sure if she sees him as a new toy, or something more, but she's made it clear that she likes him, she likes looking and listening to him talk, and would love to touch him as well, but her whole heart and soul belong to Price and Price alone.

Not matter how much he gets to touch Price's pretty bride of sin, no matter how much he gets to kiss her soft skin or grope her curves, he's never ever allowed to cum inside her. That's Price's thing to do, he's the only one who can stuff her full, and if König ever dares to step that line, hell will rain down on him and he'll die at the hands of the Captain.

Luckily König is good at listening to instructions and would never cross that line, he still has a lot to achieve and do in life, like doing Price's girl.

tag list (pls ask to be added or removed): @obiwankenobis-lap @goapgrim @smalldemonlover @silviafantin15 @reveluving @bobastayhigh @originalsimp @h-leigh @gxldyjess @msdrpreist @chaoticevilbakugo @Lacunaanonymoused @whore4dilfs @canadianmilkbag @ray-rook

[skarts-0206]

MULTIVERSAL MAY - Day 24 - FLOWERFELL FRISK (Late)

Broooo- I forgot to post the drawing of day 24 yesterday, I slept very late and forgot about it, so... Day 25 drawing would be posted in the usual hour

Day 24 drawing is FlowerFell Frisk snd I don't gonna lie, I was lazy again, but anyways little cute Frisk with flowers in his face I love this fella so much

And... Well, so much text alert because I gonna talk about my experience and thoughts about the AU like I usually do with this drawings

I at first had mixed feelings about this AU, back in the day when this AU was popular I hate the AU because I think the AU was only a Frans AU and I fucking hated Frans so i hated this AU for a long time

But one day a Video appeared on my YouTube about FlowerFell and at first I ignored that because I hated and I still hating so much Frans for being, well, a pedophile shipp, but It keep appearing and one day I decided to watch it because curiosity, and, MY BOY

Everything make sense, and I felt very sad and VERY upset about the AU's creator situation and all the drama the fandom made for this fucking shitty shipp, how the fandom "loved" the AU so much that imposed his own fantasy and harassment the AU's Creator and destroyed the message that the creator wanted to give in first place:

KINDNESS

Kindness was the last thing this creator have from this "fanbase" of Frans shippers, and I know the time pass, and we should forgive the bad people and keep going, and the owner of FlowerFell isn't in the community anymore and that is what upset me the most, I don't want to forgive and keep going because this people don't deserve that, if we just "forgive and keep going" they will just do this shit to other AUs creators, because they would feel like they can do this things without a consequence.

So this is why I told you this, because I don't think this would be like a thing that we should be forgotten and forgive, because this story would be repeated again if we don't know it and learn about it, and work in make this community a better place for everyone. And yeah I know that today the community isn't the half of toxic that it was back in the 2016-2018, but this is not a message to attack people, this is a call for reflection about the bad things that happen before and we need to prevent that happen again.

Anyways that was a lot of text, sorry if you find it annoying! Remember this situation when I was drawing and making this post makes me have a lot of things to say!

If you want to know more and better about FlowerFell drama you can see this video on YouTube that talks about it Link Here

FlowerFell don't belong to me

[david-goldrock]

I am thinking about them again, so let me tell you the story of Ayala

Ayala is not their name, obviously, none of them names in the story are true.

We met in the 4th grade. I just moved towns and went to this new school, but she wasn't in it. She was at the gifted kid institute. Once every week, they'd pull us out of the school system to let us into a world of happiness, challenge, and understanding. My best of days were from there, I have yet to have told you of the time I got high off of sugar there, but that's a story from another time, for another time.

It's the 4th grade, and I just meet the fellas, many of which I still keep in touch with.

She had glasses. she always wore the same blue hoodie, summer and all. She was always a bit cold. She had this weird bowl cut hair that never crossed her shoulders, as if she cut it the shortest she could without being an outcast. she was funny, she was brilliant, smarter than I am for sure. She beat me at math, and at riddles. She solved a Rubik's Cube while I was fiddling with the upper face. She could speak a bit of Chinese by the end of that year, I couldn't remember anything but my name, which was the same word

She was my best friend at the time. I didn't have a smartphone, so we couldn't text, only call. So we did, often. once a week, twice a week, thrice a week.

When we met, I'd hug everyone. we were still young enough so it wouldn't be weird. We were still young enough I couldn't control my strength, and would often chock my friends out. She was the only one who matched my strength. Some people appreciated the hug but wanted out, not her, her hugs lasted minutes, filling my inside.

The years went on and we grew closer. We made a religion, with goals, rituals and all. we made a plan to kill every adult in the world so only we will remain. We would make jokes, we would make games, we would recite plays, we would write poems.

6th grade. I got my smartphone.

We texted, every day, for hours. We didn't know what memes were back then, nor did we have some, but we would create jokes and tell each other. We'd challenge each other with riddles and philosophical thought experiments. We would plan actual experiments. I told her her experiments would almost certainly be illegal to perform, but she just brushed it off.

7th grade, the hottest class at the institute? gender studies. of course, it is, one day I'd perform the experiment we once designed: track the gifted kid population through a 10-year period and check how many are LGBT. in our institute it's only been 4 years, and we are already over 50%. I am one of the few cishet boys in the class, as to be expected. I challenge and ask questions, often. the class almost never advanced after the first slide, we would get caught up in discussions. the discussions didn't end at class, the WhatsApp group was fuming, always running, 19\7. The discussions didn't end at the group, She and I would chat to the late hours of the night, after the teacher couldn't handle it anymore.

She convinced me god does not exist, and that it is okay, because we had each other. It took her 30 minutes to turn me from a questioner to an atheist.

She was so smart, and so funny, and so... beautiful. She was stunning. No makeup, no fancy clothes, she didn't look like a traditional model, and my parents openly called her ugly to my face.

They could never understand, She was beautiful.

I fell in love. I didn't know it at the time, I didn't recognize the feeling, I didn't know it, but now I do. I fell in love, I fell hard.

Then 8th grade. Covid hits. my grandma dies. I don't know what happened at her side, but shit hit the bottom as well. We fell into a deep depression, both of us. There were weeks at a time I would feel nothing. We would message a lot over that time, I was really sad, she was suicidal.

At 9th grade shit hit the fan, she called me, she didn't call me often by that point, only texted, so I was ecstatic.

"hey david"

"HEY WHAT'S UP? HOW ARE YOU?"

"david can I ask you something?"

"Sure..... what is it?"

"if i'm gone, will you be okay with it?"

"WTF?! NO! WTF? WHY WOULD YOU SAY IT? NO! NOT EVEN AS A JOKE!"

"please"

"NO! AYALA! YOU ARE NOT DYING ON ME"

*hangs up*

I call her mother. It took me 15 minutes to call her, I didn't have her number, Ayala didn't give it to me, and none of my friends had it. I found it 15 minutes later in a "details" card I kept from a year before.

15 dreadful minutes

She responds, she tells me she's safe, she's with her, everything's fine, she knows she is suicidal, they are working on it, thanks for calling

A month later they tell me they are non-binary, and that their name is now Ash. I am shocked. I ask them if I could still refer to them in the female. They say that in hebrew, yes, but to use "they" in english.

Their messages get less frequent

2 months later I get a call from her mom. They tell me she tried to suicide. she took an overdose of pills, and then called the hospital on herself. She is fine, but she is put in the mental hospital for the time being. No phone contact

3 months later, I get a text. "Hi, sorry for being distant, I got my phone back, for a while. I wanted to tell you that the reason I called the ambulance is that I didn't want you to be hurt, or for my cat to be hurt"

They don't respond to any of my texts. I send them memes, and drawings, and get-well-soons. I pray for them every night. I get the occasional text, once a month roughly. "ha ha", "nice one", "use the masculine next time or this will be the last time I text". I didn't even know it bothered them

I finally changed their handle on my phone. I changed it to "Ash (male) GoodHuman". I knew their family name, of course, but it didn't matter, what mattered is that I miss the GoodHuman.

Then... a year passes, and a few months more, they haven't written a text in what seemed like forever.

"Hey david, sorry for ghosting you, It was too difficult responding, I love your texts, and I will try to text you more often"

so we continue to text. turns out, they cut their hair short. they switched to cargo pants and leather, no more blue hoodie. They wore a fedora now, and had new glasses

They had a new boyfriend.

I do not remember their name, I am afraid to go look if I'm honest. I don't like the guy, he seems way too controlling, and way too sure of himself, and way too... too dumb for them. But they were happy, and after the last couple of years, it's been good enough knowing that they were happy

They texted from his phone sometimes. he switched and talked to me sometimes.

I meant to sent her something by mail. I knew the city, but not the address, so I asked.

They told me "Oh didn't I tell you? My parents got divorced. My mom couldn't handle me being trans, my dad could. I live with him now"

They give me the address

It's so close. So absurdly close. Not in my city, but my city borders a field, and the field connects to another city. I lived on the entrance to the field, they lived on the other. Half an hour by bike.

So they invite me over, and I bike. I bike like mad, I didn't know the path, it didn't matter, I rolled through the thorns, they couldn't hurt me, we are about to meet again.

And we met, and we talked, and we watched a musical, and we played, and recited plays, and sand songs, and we riddled each other riddles, and we played philosophy, and it was suddenly like the old times came back.

I asked how was it going with the boyfriend. They told me they actually were polyamorous, and if I wanted, we could have sex right there and then, her father wasn't home.

I suddenly realized... the years have changed me. I say no.

It was getting late, so I went to take my bike and... the thorns punctured them. I didn't even think to look. I waited for their father to return to bring me home, and promised: next time in my house. They gave me an origami frog. I still have it

Their father came later. he drove me back, but by the time we got home, my mother asked where I've been.

I lied. My mother hated Ash, and still called them Ayala. I don't remember my lie, I am pretty sure she knew exactly what happened, but we never talked about that.

Stuff went well for a while, then...

We went into a gender studies discussion. It went as usual, then they said "yeah, but all men are rapists".

"I'm a man"

no comment

"Ash, I ask you to back down, this hurts me a lot"

They doubled down. I don't remember what they said. I remember I shed a tear for the first time since my grandma died and say "If you want to talk with me again, back down, if not, I will not engage again"

I assumed they'd back down in a day. In 2 tops. Every day I'd check the chat, still empty.

5 months later: "I am not backing down, but it shouldn't affect our relationship-"

I stop reading

I write some "professional speech" bs about me being able to accept an apology whenever they'd like, but I cannot continue like this, and wish them the best

This is the last message in our chat

Often I ask myself if I was too dramatic, If this was too much, If I should have accepted it for our friendship. I don't know the answer

This was a year ago. more, actually. They never came for the "next time in my house". The friends who keep in touch with both of us say they are still with the same boyfriend. they colored their hair. they are trying to pass school, but having a hard time with math.

I pray they are still okay