#the way i’ll be playing this on election day is so funny

[gothsuguru]

JJK PHANTOM PARADE APP IS PREDOWNLOADING RN OH MY GOD???

[pettytiredandjewish]

Damn the genocidal warmonger who would benefit me more personally didn't win :(

Not quite sure if this is sarcasm or not (I’m too tired to figure it out) but let me explain some things to you and others.

- The majority of politicians (not all) are “warmongers”. This includes presidents. I have my own opinions about the US involving themselves in wars (but is another long discussion for another day).

- I am not a huge fan of Harris. I don’t fully agree with her views. BUT I still voted for her and Waltz (I also am not a big fan of him too but for different reasons).

- I voted for her because I know out of all of them, she was going to be the better choice for all of us. I know a lot of yall don’t like that way of thinking but let me give you some advice. Our country has 2 major parties (democrats and republicans) and we also have Green Party and independent. When it’s time to vote for your final choice- I don’t look at third party and that’s because I know there is a very low chance that they will get electoral votes. (I have my opinions ons on electoral votes). I focus on the democrat and republican candidates. I am not a republican. I do not agree with a lot of their views and policies. But I’m also not a democrat too. I’ve shifted from them due to the fact that the majority of them thinks that Jews/Israelis are monsters. I can’t stand by a party that supports that harmful and hateful view point. When it came time for me to vote I knew I had to pick the person that would be better for all of us. Harris was the better option. When voting don’t just think about yourself but think about the ones whose lives and rights are at stake.

- I remember Trumps first term. It was scary. Me and my family were making plans to leave the country (in case we had to). I was afraid for my and my loved ones safety.

- Trump winning this election is bad for all of us. This is why voting is fucking important y’all. If you are eligible to vote- then fucking VOTE. Stop telling people to not vote because “my vote won’t make a difference” (you don’t know that) or “I don’t like either of them so I’m not voting” (guess what I and many others don’t like them either but we still voted) or my new favorite “I hate that genocidal Harris so I’m not voting or I’ll vote for trump or third party to punish her”… well congratulations ass hats! Trump is the new president.

- say goodbye to your rights because a lot of us (including me) is gonna be screwed big time.

-There will be no more reproductive rights. If you need an abortion or have a miscarriage, you are screwed. You won’t be able to get the abortion and if someone finds out that you were looking into getting one, that person could report you and you might get arrested. If you are having a miscarriage, you still have to carry it to full term or you may get arrested (or you may also die)…

- LGBTQ rights, say goodbye to those. Same sex marriage will be back on debate and possibly will be banned. Want to adopt kids? Well you won’t be able to anymore because you’re not straight or cis. You want to start transitioning, well you won’t be able to because that’s illegal…

- I can keep going. That is how fucked we are. We are so fucked it’s not even funny. I knew trump was gonna get votes from his cult- i mean supporters. I also knew that Harris was gonna get her votes too. But those who refused to vote or voted third party to punish Harris, you guys played a factor in trump winning. You are ONE OF THE REASONS why he won. So congrats! Y’all didn’t want a “genocidal” woman to be president. You just wanted someone far worser than her.

- also just so you know, Harris supported and was pushing for a ceasefire. Y’all are just mad that she wanted the hostages to be freed and that she called you guys out (pro Palestine and anti zionist) for how y’all were behaving and acting. (I won’t even go there cuz that’s a whole ass story).

- so to the pro Palestine and anti zionist groups: did you free Palestine? Did electing a monster (who is a raging racist/sextist/islamophobic/Antitsemitic/homophobic/transphobic/the list goes on…) save Palestine? Is he gonna do it? The answer to that is NO. You fucked up.

- also remember that i/p conflict is not the only thing that is going to be affected when trump takes office. The Ukraine/Russian war? Ukraine is screwed. Remember that.

[theresa-of-liechtenstein]

two special edition rehearsalposts in a row? damn we're on a roll. anyway, rehearsalpost and quartetpost election day edition time i guess

the two older ladies in my section complimented my outfit for today (a blouse with fun sleeves and a tie neck with trousers and doc martens) which is how you know you've won in life

viola friend spent much of the day stress-baking and gave tita conductor a scone, which she happily accepted

as we got settled, my stand partner leaned over and said to me, "ten dollars she mentions the election"

sure enough, tita conductor referenced the cute flute couple, who are poll workers, and i pretended to pull out a wad of cash and hand it to my stand partner when she was done talking

we then commenced with what i have decided to call the Cardigan Chuck. and what, pray tell, is the Cardigan Chuck? allow me to enlighten you.

without fail (and at most 10 minutes into rehearsal time) tita conductor decides she's done wearing whatever cardigan she's put on for the day, shrugs it off, and puts it to the side at the front of the room. she does this by balling up the poor article of clothing and yeeting it away, sometimes over the heads of the outside stands of the cello or first violin section (depending on her whims that day). either way it is wildly funny and i have to try not to laugh when she does it

we got started on the first movement of the dvořák and tita conductor told the robust cello section, "to quote myself—what did i say last time?—i will not be sending you an engraved invitation. you will need to come in"

"you need to start playing this like the cavalry is coming from six counties away" -tita conductor to the violas

there's a finicky bit in the development that i've been struggling to get under my fingers independently, but i think feeling the context in rehearsal made something click for me and i felt a lot more confident playing it. W for me i guess

at some point in the sprint toward the first recapitulation the second violins were repeatedly Not Getting a series of notes, so tita conductor asked us to sing them through

after the first time through, during which i was the only one not mumble-singing, tita conductor looked down and asked us to do it again, adding, "and em, your leader, is doing a perfect job" 😭

madamina, once again, may i remind you we are in public; moreover, doesn't being technically part of chamber singers give me an unfair advantage in this

left for class shortly after and returned for quartet about an hour and thirty minutes later. we decided to read through eine kleine nachtmusik because, considering the current circumstances, none of us thought death and the maiden was suitable for the occasion

hilariously, every time keys could be heard jingling outside (we had the door propped open), we would all look to see who it was, because 9 times out of 10 if you are on the first floor of the arts building and hear a copious amount of keys jingling, it is usually tita conductor. call that conditioning

however, this time it was not tita conductor, but our two trumpet players, who walked in to give us an electoral college update before complimenting our playing and disappearing again

we managed to read through the first and second movements of eine kleine and would have done the fourth had ate dean not had grading to do. we cleaned up and would have informed tita conductor of our departure, but by then her office lights were off, so we all parted slightly somberly.

anyway considering that i will not have time to do anything of consequence in lab on tuesdays and thursdays next quarter, i think i’ll join chamber singers. seems like tita conductor would be amenable

[aceswritingcorner]

Mention of alcohol, compress being a slight flirt, self-insert ish. Dabi being a menace at the end

The L.O.V. being bored one day with nothing to do so Toga suggests trying out a game that she saw going around, Try Not To Laugh. All the other members have to try one at at time to make one select person laugh, or at least spit out their drink of choice.

Toga was one of the easiest to break, giggling at Twice’s antics and Compress’ theme of dragging one of the others into his bits and jokes.

Shigaraki would grumble about it being a stupid idea but joining anyways because what else is there to do? Might as well just stand there and watch them, somehow making Magne and Toga laugh.

Compress and Twice were quite a dynamic duo with coming up with a compelling idea to break someone, one of them always forgetting a part or a line making the other break character and breaking the person as well as laughter roars through the league’s hideout.

One person had yet to break amongst the inside jokes and pranks, besides Kurogiri, who had elected to stay by the bar and control the time limit given for the members to use. Dabi was always stubborn when it came to laughing at their jokes, giving a shrug and an ‘innocent’ look whenever Toga pouted at him being impossible to break.

“Y/n, why don’t you try to do it?” Toga questioned, looking at your form from the bar stool, drink in hand as she pointed towards the scarred villain who still held a mouthful of whiskey. “C'mon, at least try to break him! You haven’t joined all game.”

You shrugged slightly in response, looking at the energetic blond, “Just not that funny when it comes to this kind of stuff, Toga.”

“Please, you are always hilarious with your jokes, my dear.” Compress chimed in from his spot, mask set aside as he looked at you with a small grin, “You always put on quite the show.”

“Yeah doll, try an’ make me laugh. Haven’t heard any of your jokes yet. ” Dabi hummed, swallowing the alcohol as he leaned against his palms, half-lidded eyes looking at you with a small smirk. “All the others have, yet I always miss them somehow.”

Worth a shot, at least. No one else managed to break the villain from his cocky, yet amused, stature. You sighed, downing the rest of your drink before moving off the stool, “Alright. Fill your mouth and shut it, Dabi, doubt I’ll make you laugh.”

Dabi gave an amused snicker, leaning back as he let the whiskey fill his mouth once more before looking at you with an amused gleam in his eyes. He was curious to see what the newbie could come up with, if the regular members couldn’t even make him laugh when they were trying and teaming up against him.

You hummed quietly, looking at the man’s form as he teasingly moved his hands in front of his open legs, leaning forward on his chair as he gave a cocky hum. What could be said or done to make him spill that alcohol from his lips? Twice and Compress already tried magic and random sounds, Toga poked and prodded him saying how he had to be ticklish somehow and that’d be what gets him to laugh.. Even Shigaraki gave a half-assed attempt at the other villain.

Maybe there had to be something that he just found hilarious, but what in the hell would it be?

There was always the old option of playing dirty…

“-Hurry up, we don’t have all day y'know.” Shigaraki hissed from his spot in the corner, looking up from the screen of his game.

“Fight me, you barbecued necrophiliac.” The words left your mouth quicker than you could hope, your eyes wide at the realization as a snicker left Dabi’s mouth. So maybe there was a way-

“Hey, Dabi, if you spit that you’re gonna get in trouble. Or have to walk around without pants if you get yourself wet, and not in the fun way.” You spoke up, a small grin poking at the corners of your mouth as you watched the man bit back an obvious grin at the comments, the inside of his cheek bitten by his teeth. “Yet again, clothes are expensive and you, well- let’s say you don’t mean that much to me in those terms.”

Another snicker left him as the villain lifted a hand to shield his mouth, amber drops slipping between the cracks of his fingers as he spit the whiskey out before shaking his hand off. “Alright doll, you got me. Now it’s my turn against you.”

The evil gleam in his eyes spoke volumes as he lifted his eyes to look at you.

[cosmo-watches-movies]

The Deal (2003)

Plot: This politics drama tells the story of the events leading up to the Blair-Brown-Deal.

Do I need Spoilers for a movie based on real events?

Well this subject matter couldn’t be further from Underworld in any way.

This movie opens with a disclaimer stating that some secenes dialogues are invented but it is based on a true story. Followed up by this statement:

"Much of what follows is true."

And...although I think that's very funny, what was the intend behind that? I don't know if that is supposed to make the movie more or less convincig to me...

Anyway...

I’m having a hard time coming up with something to write about for this one. Like it wasn’t boring, far from it actually, I was with it all the way. But still…trying to piece together the details of a political agreement of two polititians in a country I’ve never even been in is kind of difficult. Probably beneficial to have been alive back then aswell. Like I think you need at least some background info to understand this properly. Okay so let me get that info on how the british government works and some of it’s history and I’ll try again.

*Action montage of me researching the british government set to the Rocky Theme*

Allright that’s done, I think I somewhat understand what’s going on now, if you really wanna get into the terminology please google what you don’t understand, I’m already struggling to put this together as is.

So we have Gordon Brown (David Morrissey), who just got elected as the Member of Parliament (MP for short) for Dunfermline East in Scotland. He soon learns that he will have to share his office in London with the MP for Sedgefield, Tony Blair (Michael Sheen). At first Brown isn’t very happy about this, but eventually they become friends. At some point they discuss their goals in political positions and agree that Brown would be better suited as the leader of the party. Stuff happens. One day Browns mentor and head of the party John Smith (Frank Kelly) suffers a fatal heart attack. Quickly Blair decides to run for leadership. Brown is pissed, drama, drama, drama, till Blair reaches out to him, asking him to meet up and settle this matter. They do and aggree that Blair will run for leadership and in turn Brown is assured “unprecedented power as his Chancellor should they win the next election” and “sweeping control of social policy” (quoted from the wikipedia article of the film, Idk how to reword that). Also Brown would be granted Blair’s successor should they be reelected. I left out many characters and some smaller plotpoint, that contributed to this. This films plot spans over several years. Those of you who are really interested in this story should just go and watch the movie, most of the details are not very relevant to my comments. I’ll be a surface skimmer for this one.

To be honest I probably never would’ve touched this film if it wasn’t for this blog. Buuut I’m glad I saw it, I learned stuff. I’m more smart now.

Now the cast in this is great. This film is in essence about the relationships between the people who make politics, like a peek behind the curtain. The characters at the center of it being Brown and Blair obviously and then John Smith and Peter Mandelson (played by Paul Rhys, who you might remember from Gallowglass, I did not know he was in this film going in, so I was pleasantly suprised). And all four work very well together.

Voice of little Cosmo, who is really bad at school presentations: “This movie was good and I liked it because it had a story and characters in it.” (I’m sorry, I’m trash xD I told you I’m struggling to write this)

The four characters have very natural chemistry. Until the big conflict in the third act of course, as it’s supposed to be. And when the situation hits the tipping point, oh boy does it crash hard.

A selection:

It's all a matter of interpretation isn't it? You say potato, I say the circumstances are different now!

Well done Tony! Way to piss off a Scotsman.

Yay! Goin two for two! (I'll get back to this one later, subtle but genius acting in this one)

Not too long after this they reach their agreement and the film is over. But that’s good, I like that this movie doesn’t drag. It’s exactly as long as it needs to be. That can be a bit of a problem for me with other similar movies. They’re too long and add too many unnecessary details. This one doesn’t, it’s straight forward, I think that’s one of the main reasons I did enjoy it, even if the genre isn’t something I would typically seek out. That plus, well the acting is not just good it's actually entertaining. You know what I mean?

Let me explain, I have something really cool for ya. I did some “research” for you on this one. (I watched interviews) And I learned some interesting things about Michael’s process for getting into a character.

Firstly, because I know he would not like it if I didn’t point this out. He does not do impressions! There is a difference between an impession and performing a real person in a story. An impression is copying a persons look, mannerisms and speech patterns as perfectly as possible. Ususally for satirical purposes. Usually only for a sketch or something short like that. That is not what Michael does when he plays a real person.

So instead on focusing on the outside impression, what he does is, as he puts it himself, he “bathes” in the person so to speak. Meaning he does months of research, watching and reading everything he can about that person, fully immersing himself, so he can build a deeper understanding of what makes them tick, what motivates them and ...you know the internal workings and all that. Their actual personality.

This might seem obvious to some, but to be honest I never thought about how an actor might tackle a task like this before. The absolute best thing though, is listening to Michael talk about his work. He’s so passionate about the characters he plays and the storeis they're in. No matter if it’s about a famous politician, a morally questionable soft angel or a creepy vampire. You can really see that he manages to build a connection with each and every one of them. That’s one of the reasons he’s such a good actor I think. And it's a joy to watch him immers himself.

He said a thing about improv, that I think applies to his acting in general aswell: “(Improv) forces you to make choices in the moment that aren’t intellectual choices. You just have to make a choice, because, it has to be real, cause your living it.”

This stuff requires a deep dedication and knowledge to and of the character and I think this is how we get these brilliant microexpressions he always does. Because in the moment he is that character going through these emotions. There is a deep basis behind what he does. Maybe this is standard practice, maybe not, again, I know nothing of acting, but you can really see the enormous effort he puts into his work and I think that is absolutely amazing.

Just one example is this short second here:

Previously Blair had no problem looking directly at Brown while arguing. But when he actually says out loud, that he thinks he is better (suited) than his opponent, he suddenly can't keep it up anymore. *gasp* Could that be guilt? He knows exactly that he's not only breaking the trust his friend had in him, but also hurting him on a personal level. And all of this is in a few miliseconds! This is exactly what I'm talking about!

This scene in general is just excellent. It's an incredible example of two actors just bouncing off of each other incredibly well! If there's one thing I like even more than Michael Sheen's acting, it's seeing him act with another great actor. That's what I'm here for! That's when the magic happens *u*

Okay enough of me geeking out. All of this said, in this case I unfortunately can't even judge if Michael really succeds at what he set out to do with this role, because I don't know what kind of person Tony Blair actually is. As I said I wasn't there back then. And tbh I'm not yet invested enough to go that deep into this rabbithole. I did watch a few documentaries to familiarize myself with the subject, but my patience for this stuff only goes so far. However for me in this movie he was very convincing as a politician, who won't hesitate to make decisions that will bring him closer to his goals but will have a negative effect on others aswell (Foreshadowing). Anyway judging by the sequels to this and other biographical films he would be cast in in the future, I'd say he did just fine ;)

So, apparently I did have something to say about this one after all.

Summarizing: Give this one a watch, it’s good. And you might learn something.

[sharperthewriter]

Chapter 20 of Roneo and Kimliet

Chapter 20

(4:44pm, Middleton Mall)

Bonnie was in the middle of her usual kelp wrap at The Spa Middleton Mall with serene and calming music when Ashley A and Ashley B came in. Ashley A was wearing a pink croptop, baggy CB dark denim overalls with the left strap hooked and the right strap undone and dangling behind her back and white sneakers. She went with giant gold hoop earrings. Ashley B went with a tube top and baggy CB jeans with a belt.

"Hey, um, B?" Ashley A asked.

"Can it wait, AA? I am in the middle of my weekly time of peace and serenity!" Bonnie muttered.

"It's about Possible and Stoppable." Ashley A replied.

Bonnie instructed one of the spa's employees to turn off the music. The employee did so.

She removed the cucumbers from her eyes.

"What about those two?" Bonnie sneered.

"They got the roles of Juliet and Romeo, respectively!" Ashley B grinned.

"And how did Possible react?" she questioned, "Remember, I haven't taken my two arts elective classes yet required for graduation so I'm not in there."

Ashley A began to chortle.

"She gave a loud NOOOO before Barkin gave her detention for disrupting the class!"

She and Ashley B began to laugh. Bonnie, upon hearing the news of her rival getting detention, also joined in on the laughter.

"Oh man...that is quite funny!" Bonnie replied as she finished her laugh.

Taking several deep breaths, she added, "Man, I just cannot wait until she wears that Juliet costume! She would look like a total dork!"

"So what's the next part of the plan?" Ashley A asked.

"We'll see how Possible handles her lines first..." Bonnie said, "...and go from there. Now can you leave? I still need to continue my kelp wrap, thank you very much!"

Ashley A and Ashley B both nodded their heads in agreement with each other.

(4:51pm)

Back at the Possible house, Kim glared at the script with Ann and James looking at their daughter.

"I don't know how to approach this!" she said, "This is defs the hardest thing I had to do at school."

James was nervous as well, but for different reasons.

"Uhhh...Kimmie-cub, I hate to say this but I think this would be your mom's area of expertise. So I'll leave you two alone." he insisted.

"Where are you gonna go, James?" Ann asked.

"Helping with the boys with their baking soda volcano." James replied.

Both Ann and Kim said "Uh-oh" at the same time as James exited downstairs from Kim's loft room.

"I just...don't know what to do, Mom!" Kim exclaimed to Ann. "This whole sitch is so complicated!"

"I did remember doing a Shakespeare play in high school." Ann replied, "Though you only needed one art credit for graduation at the time. And that was before I met your father."

"What did you do for that? I'm just curious to know!" Kim questioned.

"At the time, I had a very huge crush of Bobby Lane in high school. And he got one of those roles. I had to think to myself: It's only a play! It's only a play!" Ann said.

"Did you get a good grade?" Kim asked.

"I did. Managed an A- for the course!" Ann replied, scooting closer to Kim.

"That's good, at the very least." Kim said, "But can you imagine that the kisser is the best friend that you've known for the past almost 13 years of your life?"

"I...couldn't imagine that." Ann said, "Look, I know that you and Ronald are not a...how do the kids say these days...thing, but you and Ron need to get through this together as friends!"

"You're right about that part, Mom. But two things that worry me is A) how Ron is going to perform on the stage because of the Cowardly Lion incident and B) how is he going to react to me and him...you know...kissing. Not in a BF/GF kind of way, of course!"

(4:56pm)

At the Stoppable house, Ron was excited that he was going to play a non-tree related role for the first time since Wizard of Oz last year. He flung the script onto the bard.

"Can you believe it, Rufus! I am going to be Romeo!" he exclaimed for excitement. "For the first time, I won't be stuck in the bathroom for 30 minutes trying to remove a tree costume with the help of Kim and the fire department!"

"Uhhh..." Rufus was nervous because of the fact that his owner had note even opened up the script yet.

"This calls for a celebration, ol' buddy!" Ron added, "And you know what that means!"

"Naco?" Rufus asked, still unsure.

"That's right...hey, you're not excited that I got that play of Romeo!" Ron gasped at the naked mole rat's reaction.

Rufus sighed and rushed up to Ron's bed. He opened up the script and pointed to the list of which characters the students were playing. He first pointed to Romeo, as Ron, and then to Juliet with Kim's name next to it.

"I still do not know where you're getting at?" Ron asked, still perplexed.

Rufus only sighed harder and flipped the pages to the part of the script with Act I Scene V...the very moment Romeo and Juliet first kiss.

Ron reacted in sheer horror upon reading that line.

"AAAAAAHHHHHHHH!"

[dadjokestop]

When it comes to humor, presidential jokes can bring a smile, a chuckle, or even a hearty laugh. President jokes are a fun way to engage in light-hearted banter about the people in power. Whether you’re at a family gathering, a friendly get-together, or just looking to brighten your day, these jokes will have you and your friends cracking up! So, let’s dive into a collection of presidential jokes that are sure to entertain everyone. 1-10: Political Punchlines 1. Why did the president go to art school? To learn how to draw a crowd! 2. What do you call a president who’s a great musician? A “lead-er”! 3. Why was the president's speech so boring? Because he kept going off on a "tangent"! 4. How do presidents stay cool? They always keep their "executive" air on! 5. Why did the president bring a ladder to the speech? Because he wanted to reach new heights! 6. What do you get when you cross a president with a vegetable? A "root" cause of all problems! 7. Why did the president install a trampoline in the White House? To keep his policies bouncing back! 8. What did the president say to the musician? “Make sure you hit all the right notes in the budget!” 9. How do you organize a space party? You planet... and invite the president! 10. Why did the president go to school? To improve his “presidential” skills! 11-20: More Presidential Puns 11. What did the president order at the restaurant? A “bipartisan” burger—half beef, half veggie! 12. Why don’t presidents ever get lost? Because they always follow the polls! 13. How did the president make his coffee? He used his “executive” grind! 14. Why did the president sit on the clock? He wanted to be on time for his next meeting! 15. What did the president say when he found out he was being audited? “Guess I’ll have to pull some strings… and a few receipts!” 16. Why did the president cross the road? To get to the “other side” of the aisle! 17. How do presidents like their jokes? In good “taste” and with a side of “policy”! 18. What’s a president’s favorite type of exercise? Running for office! 19. Why did the president wear glasses? To improve his “vision” for the future! 20. How does the president like his eggs? “Executive” scrambled, please! 21-30: More Laughs in Leadership 21. Why do presidents never play hide and seek? Because good luck hiding when everyone knows your address! 22. What did the president say to the campaign manager? “Let’s keep this election ‘on the level’!” 23. Why did the president go to therapy? To work on his “executive functioning”! 24. What’s a president’s favorite dessert? “Electo-cakes” with a layer of frosting! 25. Why did the president bring a broom to the meeting? To sweep the competition! 26. How do presidents stay fit? By “running” the country! 27. What do you call a president who tells jokes? A “pun-derful” leader! 28. Why did the president go to the beach? To work on his “executive tan”! 29. What’s a president’s favorite game? “Capture the Vote”! 30. Why was the president’s calendar so busy? Because he had too many “dates” to keep! These president jokes are not only funny but also a great way to lighten the mood during discussions about politics. Whether you share them with friends or family, they are sure to get a laugh. Remember, laughter is a universal language, and a good joke can break the ice in any situation!

[lenbryant]

(Atlantic) Let’s Talk About Trump’s Gibberish

What the former president’s shark tirade says about American politics and media

By Tom Nichols

Sign up for The Decision, a newsletter featuring our 2024 election coverage.

Perhaps the greatest trick Donald Trump ever pulled was convincing millions of people—and the American media—to treat his lapses into fantasies and gibberish as a normal, meaningful form of oratory. But Trump is not a normal person, and his speeches are not normal political events.

For too long, Trump has gotten away with pretending that his emotional issues are just part of some offbeat New York charm or an expression of his enthusiasm for public performance. But Trump is obviously unfit—and something is profoundly wrong with a political environment in which he can now say almost anything, no matter how weird, and his comments will get a couple of days of coverage and then a shrug, as if to say: Another day, another Trump rant about sharks.

Wait, what?

Yes, sharks. In Las Vegas on Sunday, Trump went off-script—I have to assume that no competent speechwriter would have drafted this—and riffed on the important question of how to electrocute a shark while one attacks. He had been talking, he claims, to someone about electric boats: “I say, ‘What would happen if the boat sank from its weight and you’re in the boat, and you have this tremendously powerful battery, and the battery’s now underwater, and there’s a shark that’s approximately 10 yards over there?’”

Read: Trump rants about sharks and everyone just pretends it’s normal

As usual, Trump noted how much he impressed his interlocutor with his very smart hypothetical: “And he said, ‘Nobody ever asks this question,’ and it must be because of MIT, my relationship to MIT. Very smart.” (MIT? Trump’s uncle taught there and retired over a half century ago, when Trump was in his 20s, and died in 1985. Trump often implies that his uncle passed on MIT’s brainpower by genetic osmosis or something.)

This ramble went on for a bit longer, until Trump made it clear that given his choice, he’d rather be zapped instead of eaten: “But you know what I’d do if there was a shark or you get electrocuted? I’ll take electrocution every single time. I’m not getting near the shark. So we’re going to end that, we’re going to end it for boats, we’re going to end it for trucks.”

Hopefully, this puts to rest any pressing questions among Americans about the presumptive Republican nominee’s feelings on electric vehicles and their relationship to at least two gruesome ways to die.

Sure, it seems funny—Haha! Uncle Don is telling that crazy shark story again!—until we remember that this man wants to return to a position where he would hold America’s secrets, be responsible for the execution of our laws, and preside as the commander in chief of the most powerful military in the world. A moment that seems like oddball humor should, in fact, terrify any American voter, because this behavior in anyone else would be an instant disqualification for any political office, let alone the presidency. (Actually, a delusional, rambling felon known to have owned weapons would likely fail a security check for even a visit to the Oval Office.)

Nor was the Vegas monologue the first time: Trump for years has fallen off one verbal cliff after another, with barely a ripple in the national consciousness. I am not a psychiatrist, and I am not diagnosing Trump with anything. I am, however, a man who has lived on this Earth for more than 60 years, and I know someone who has serious emotional problems when I see them played out in front of me, over and over. The 45th president is a disturbed person. He cannot be trusted with any position of responsibility—and especially not with a nuclear arsenal of more than 1,500 weapons. One wrong move could lead to global incineration.

Why hasn’t there been more sustained and serious attention paid to Trump’s emotional state?

First, Trump’s target audience is used to him. Watch the silence that descends over the crowds at such moments; when Trump wanders off into the recesses of his own mind, they chit-chat or check their phones or look around, waiting for him to come back and offer them an applause line. For them, it’s all just part of the show.

George T. Conway III: Unfit for office

Second, Trump’s staff tries to put just enough policy fiber into Trump’s nutty verbal soufflés that they can always sell a talking point later, as if his off-ramps from reality are merely tiny bumps in otherwise sensible speeches. Trump himself occasionally seems surprised when these policy nuggets pop up in a speech; when reading the teleprompter, he sometimes adds comments such as “so true, so true,” perhaps because he’s encountering someone else’s words for the first time and agreeing with them. Thus, they will later claim that questions about sharks or long-dead uncles are just bad-faith distractions from substance. (These are the same Republicans who claim that every verbal stumble from Joe Biden indicates full-blown dementia.)

Third, and perhaps most concerning in terms of public discussion, many people in the media have fallen under the spell of the Jedi hand-waves from Trump and his people that none of this is as disturbing and weird as it sounds. The refs have been worked: A significant segment of the media—and even the Democratic Party—has bought into a Republican narrative that asking whether Trump is mentally unstable is somehow biased and elitist, the kind of thing that could only occur to Beltway mandarins who don’t understand how the candidate talks to normal people.

Such objections are mendacious nonsense and represent a massive double standard. As Eugene Robinson of The Washington Post wrote today: “It is irresponsible to obsess over President Biden’s tendency to mangle a couple of words in a speech while Donald Trump is out there sounding detached from reality.” Biden’s mush-mouthed moments fall well within the range of normal gaffes. Had he or any other American politician said anything even remotely like one of Trump’s bizarre digressions, we’d be flooded with front-page stories about it. Pundits would be solemnly calling for a Much Needed National Conversation about the Twenty-Fifth Amendment.

It is long past time for anyone who isn’t in the Trump base to admit, and to keep talking about, something that has been obvious for years: Donald Trump is unstable. Some of these problems were evident when he first ran, and we now know from revelations by many of his former staff that his problems processing information and staying tethered to reality are not part of some hammy act.

Worse, the people who once managed Trump’s cognitive and emotional issues are gone, never to return. A second Trump White House will be staffed with the bottom of the barrel—the opportunists and hangers-on willing to work for a reprehensible man. His Oval Office will be empty of responsible and experienced public servants if the day comes when someone has to explain to him why war might be about to erupt on the Korean peninsula or why the Russian or Chinese nuclear forces have gone on alert, and he starts talking about frying sharks with boat batteries.

The 45th president is deeply unwell. It is long past time for Americans, including those in public life, to recognize his inability to serve as the 47th.

[pedropascalsx]

1,2,3,4&5 - Dieter Bravo x f! reader!

Summary: You work for Dieter Bravo, and you love it. The problem is... you love him too. And you think that you've found a way to free your feelings and share what you want to share; without risking or job or your closest friendship.

Warnings: Male Masturbation. Mentions of sex, anal play and blow jobs... Also fanfiction inside fanfiction warning? idk!!

Chapter: 1 of 6.

WC: 3.7k.

A/N - Inspired by @toomanystoriessolittletime​ & her wonderful prompt. She kindly agreed to let people run with her ideas - if they speak to her first and this is my attempt.

I hope you all enjoy.

The smell of leather, cheap cologne and spilled beer flooded your senses as you rose from the most unrefreshing sleep you’d had since you were in college. A large unfamiliar arm wrapped around your waist and a symphony of snores were streaming directly into your ear. Glancing behind your back, you get a quick flashback and start remembering him - the cute guy from the bar, and then you remember the mountain of drinks you had consumed together; followed by a brief memory of the weak orgasm he’d given you the night before. Fuck. Never drinking again, you think to yourself.

You undrape him from your torso and start to wriggle out of his bed, thankful your clothes aren’t too far out of reach, and you pull them on without any real care; just desperate to get home and showered.

Thankfully it didn’t take long for the next car on uber to be available and as you were slinking out of the front door, it was pulling up right outside. You’d consciously made the decision to ignore the stream of missed calls and text messages from your boss until you have gotten home; seeing as today is supposed to be your first day off in months.

Freeing yourself of the black satin mini dress you’re adorning is your first task and the moment you’re inside your tiny apartment you head straight for a shower, unceremoniously throwing your bag on the counter as you do so.

You’ve always enjoyed turning the heat up just hot enough that the initial flash of water stings your whole body, and so the bathroom goes cloudy with steam. You love the way the boiling waterfall works effortlessly to sanitize you of whatever escapade you’re wanting to remove all traces of from yourself.

After washing your hair and generously lathering yourself in your favourite floral scented shower gel; you pull yourself out of the shower, leaving behind the memories of the previous night to drain out of the plughole and out of your hair for good.

The sound of your phone violently vibrating on the kitchen counter makes you scoff, but you decide that now is as good as time as any to find out what your boss is so desperately hunting you down for.

“Good morning, Dieter” you answer with a roll of your eyes, “It is my day off and I know you know this because we discussed it last night AND I left multiple post-it notes for you to find this morning.”

“Where have you been?” he asks clearly not bothered by the annoyance laced in your tone, “I need you to pack a bag and get over here.”

“Okay, I’ll bite… why do I need to pack a bag? And why can’t I have the day off I was promised, Dieter?”

“Bring what you’ll need for the next five days and hurry up. I’ll tell you when you’re here, sweet thing.”

He hangs up the phone before you get a chance to argue, and you have to fight the urge to stamp your foot down and throw a miniscule tantrum. How does this man-child have such a hold on you? Well, the answer to that is pretty fucking simple. He’s gorgeous, he’s funny, he’s surprisingly generous… oh and you’re head over heels in love with the moron. So much so that you’d considered quitting as his PA and boarding a flight to anywhere and starting fresh multiple times; instead electing to stay, ignore your feelings and refusing to ever give as much as an inkling to the fact that you really love the guy.

Frustrated and defeated from the fight that you put zero effort into beating, you retreat to your bedroom; still wrapped in a towel and your hair dripping wet, you pull out your suitcase.

You hastily packed whatever you could grab, unsure whether you’d be spending five days in his mansion hiding out from another scandal he’d probably himself in the middle off, or whether he was taking you to one of his other homes; expecting you to keep an eye on shit whilst he entertained every and any willing man or woman during a 5-day long sexcapade.

It wouldn’t be the first time, you’d been dragged away by him, barricaded in a spare bedroom and attempting to drown out the sounds of God-knows how many people fucking in the surrounding space. Weirdly you ended up being grateful to be there, as the amount of videos and photographs you’d managed to prevent from making it online was enough to end his career in a second.

You packed your clothes, chargers, some make up and even reached for the velvet bag containing your favourite vibrator; figuring you’re probably going to be bunkered down alone and it’ll be the only action you’ll see for the better part of a week. You throw on a jacket and make sure to grab your laptop bag as you leave your apartment and make your way down to your car.

SEVEN HOURS BEFORE.

Bored of porn and sick of the few men and women in his current fuck rotation; Dieter reaches for his laptop and begins seeking out his new favourite kind of jerk off material. Fanfiction. More specifically fanfiction involving him or occasionally one of the characters he’d played, preferring to stick to the stuff written by women and men fantasising about being fucked by the actor himself. He’d been tagged in a link or twitter and became hooked on it. Hooked on the notion that people wanted him so badly, they wrote and shared their deepest and sometimes darkest fantasies down to share with like-minded fans.

He skims a few stories, bookmarks a few others and eventually falls a five-chapter series. The title making him slightly groan at the lack of originality but the summary and warning section being enough to pique his interest.

The Movie Star and Girl he couldn’t truly see.

Summary: Hollywood legend and Oscar winning actor Dieter Bravo and his unexpecting timid personal assistant get to know each other in more intimate ways after a freak snowstorm finds them trapped in a cabin for five days.

Warnings: Sex. Lots of sex. Analplay. Come eating. Just pure filth.

Skipping the build up he skims until the action starts, scrolling and scrolling until -ah-hah!- he exclaims slightly louder than he anticipated; Dieter’s eyes run up and down the length of her body, loving the way the wet snowfall made her dress almost see through. Her nipples hard and her chest rose up and down as she giggled, his cock rock hard and straining against the zipper on his jeans… fuck he wanted her, and he knew she wanted him too. ‘Strip’ he orders, and he loves the way her face blushes a shade of pink at his unexpected demand, ‘What?’ she asks with another giggle and his eyes bore into hers. ‘Take off your clothes, pretty girl, and drop to your knees. Don’t make me ask again.’ Dieter fists his cock furiously as he continues to read the smut on the screen in front of him, not feeling even a little bit guilty as he imagines it’s you and him playing out the scenario in front of him.

 It doesn’t take long for him to cum and he decides to skim the rest of the chapter; not reading enough to be taking everything in. But, ultimately deciding it’s worth checking out before he goes to sleep.

Secretly he’s hoping that the first chapter involves the analplay the series masterlist was promising but it’s something else that catches his eye. A small description of a dress. Something he’s not entirely sure why grabbed his attention, but it grabbed enough for him to re-read it over and over again.

Red in colour, ankle length and satin; the dress fits her body like it was tailor-made for her. The cut of the dress low enough to show off her gorgeous breasts and the split high enough to make his mouth water at the sight of her thick thigh.

Maybe he was still slightly high, but he knew that dress. He was convinced of it. He could see the dress, the body it was fitted to, and he could remember the way he felt like he couldn’t breathe when she entered the room and he caught that very first glimpse of her.

He shook his head, no… this was just a very weird coincidence. Red is a VERY popular colour for dresses, and satin? What women doesn’t love the feeling of themselves draped in the luxurious material.

He shook his head again and continued his strolling, refusing to think anymore of what his mind was trying to convince him. He scrolled and scrolled, trying to concentrate on anything other than the flashback scene in which she’d entered his birthday party a few weeks before the cabin had happened. It was just a coincidence. A weird one. A weird one where the decorations seemed to match the ones at his party to a tee, a weird one where his outfit description matched the one, he wore perfectly; right down to the cufflinks that he’d been gifted a few hours earlier. The gnawing feeling in his tummy and the fact that his party was strictly no cameras, and the only photography permitted was to be inside the photobooth provided and he actively avoided being dragged in there the whole night was weighing on his mind.

He scrolled to the very top of the page and copied the username, immediately going to twitter and pasting it in the search bar; desperate to seek out any clues as to who was behind the account.

He scrolled through the general tweets sharing the latest instalment of the fic that had many hooked, occasionally stopping to admire the fanart that had been made by avid readers and nodding his head in approval at the NSFW drawings that had accurately portrayed his thick and long length.

He was surprised at the amount of decisions involving this fic there was, clearly a lot more popular than he had anticipated the reader insert fanfic would be and then it happened.

A tweet from an unsuspecting account, sharing the link to her newest chapter to a friend and the name linked to the account? Yours.

He bolted upright. Sitting back against his headboard as he concluded that it had to be you. The details of the party and the way his house had been described had to have been someone that had been there. The quiet, sweet but occasionally sassy and ALWAYS headstrong personal assistant that he’d been aching to taste had wanted him to? No. You were an enigma to him. You had been since the first day you had met two years early. Mid-twenties, beautiful, quite a bit shyer than you were now; but he’d made it his mission to make you comfortable around him. But damn… Never had you shown any sort of inclination that you were interested in him… In fact, you scoffed and pushed him away when he even attempted to work his charm on you. This didn’t make sense to him, so he decided to investigate further. Starting at the very top of chapter one and making sure to read EVERY single sentence and he didn’t stop until that very last chapter concluded. And it was then his plan started to hatch.

He wasn’t expected on set for the latest expected blockbuster he’d signed on for, for another few weeks. He’d been on an extended break following the overwhelming success of his latest movie and the bonus cheque he’d been sent contained more commas & zeroes than you’d ever seen; so, he’d decided that he was due a break and decided to gracefully back out of a five-episode arc for a TV show that had an actress he was interesting in fucking as the starring role. He figured he’d see her around during awards season and he’d shoot his shot then.

After re-reading the whole series another time, he decided that he’d bring your words to life. He googled cabins and found an absolutely gorgeous one that cost more a rent for five days than the rent for your actual apartment costs for three months.

He packed his bags, sent a few emails to his agent and to a couple of friends that he’d be out of town and wasn’t sure how reception would be, before he began attempting to contact you. The most stressful part of booking an impromptu trip was getting hold of his unexpecting company. He left voicemail after voicemail and sent about 10,000 emojis over about 50 text messages: not relenting or backing down. He continued re-reading his favourite smutty paragraphs and jerking off until he finally got through to you.

You’d answered moments before he was about to finish, squeezing his cock as tightly as he could and keeping the phone call as short as possible as not to cum with you on the other end of the phone. Not that he would have minded otherwise, but he was determined to keep everything including the soft grunts he makes when he finishes from you; until the time was right.

You pulled up to his home and see him throwing his case in the back of his range rover, his yellow tinted sunglasses perching off the edge of his nose as he watched you pull in.

Not saying here then you mumble to yourself as you park up next to him. You’re wordless as you climb out of your car, grabbing your purse and as you make your way around to the trunk to pull out your suitcase. You can feel him watching you, and it’s not until you’re standing right next to him that he finally speaks, “Ready to get out here, sweet thing?”

“I guess” you mumble and pair with a slight shrug, “Where exactly are we going?”

He takes the suitcase from your hands and places it next to his in the trunk of his car, “You’ll see. We have about a three-hour drive ahead of us and God, I hope you like Kate Bush, baby” he says with a wink, “Get in.”

You climb into his car and fiddle with your seat, before playing with the air conditioning and linking your Spotify to the speakers as he grabs the last few things from his house, sets the alarm and locks the door behind him.

He’s pleasantly surprised to already hear his artist of choice streaming through his speakers as he climbs into the driver’s seat, you notice how he appears nervous he steals a quick glance in your direction and begins to speed away.

The silence lasts about an hour, apart from the odd and extremely out of tune singing from Dieter and you can’t help but giggle every time he completely destroys a note that he’s convinced he smashed.

“So, what was it this time?” you say with a raised eyebrow.

“What was what?” he asks sounding more confused than you’d ever heard him.

You roll your eyes and slightly shift to face him as much as you can, “What did you do? Or WHO did you do this time? Tell me they’re not married…”

The throaty laugh he loudly chokes out makes you squirm, “Dieter, what did you do?”

“Nothing. And no one. I didn’t do anything; just thought I’d take my favourite assistant away for a few days before I prepare for my next role.”

“Favourite? How many more of us do you have? And away where?”

“Aw, baby, you know you’re the only one for me” he says with a smirk, “And you’ll see. You’ll love it. Something tells me, it’s a place from your wildest dreams.”

You scoff and reach over to turn up the music, crossing your legs and moving backwards in your seat.

Keep your eyes on the road, Dieter. He tells himself over and over as he steals more glances from you. The filthy words that you’d shared for hundreds or maybe even thousands to read, replaying in his head. He isn’t sure if he should be a little mad or what with you? And quite frankly he’s unsure why you took to writing them and didn’t just approach him to play them out.

But seeing you as you were in that moment, hair a little wild, dressed in comfortable sweats and a band tee that you’d definitely stolen from him… he was a little mesmerised. He was also beginning to question as to whether it was you who’d written the smut that he was consumed by. But regardless, he was going to find out and either way… Even if it doesn’t go as he hopes, he’s determined that you’ll have a really great time.

You’re not entirely sure how, because with Dieter’s singing and Kate Bush continuing to blast out the speakers it was hardly an ideal time for a nap, but you fell asleep. Only woken up by Dieter shaking your thigh to inform you that it was snowing just up ahead, and you were about to drive through a snow line. You’d never seen this before; you’d never really thought about it; but there was something beautiful about driving into one.

“Lake Tahoe?” you ask with a smile spread across your face, “I’ve never been here.”

“I’ve driven through here a few times” he says with a shrug, “Never stopped though.”

“Where are we staying?” you ask unable to gage your excitement.

“Patience, sweet thing, we’re almost there.”

 It is absolutely breath-taking, the view unlike anything you’d seen before, you’d dreamed about this. Always wanted to escape to a snowy cabin, light the fire and drink hot chocolate whilst cosied up with someone you love. Someone who loves you.

The outside of the cabin had been decorated with lights and whilst it was only just gone 1pm when you arrived, you were counting down the minutes until you could come outside and see it all lit up in front of you.

You drop your head on Dieter’s shoulder as he stood next to you as you stared over at the frozen lake, and you murmur “Dieter this is absolutely gorgeous.”

A few staff from the resort are inside the cabin, filling the fridge and cupboards with food and drink as per Dieter’s request and they all welcome you kindly before you offer to finish putting it away and thanking them. Watching as Dieter remains silent but gives them a grateful nod and shoves a very generous tip in each of their hands as they file out of the cabin.

“Looks good in here” he says with a smirk, “Should be a cosy couple of days.”

You nod in agreement before dropping your purse on the large wooden table and looking around once more and stepping through the French doors leading outside from the kitchen.

You squeal with excitement at the sight of a large hot tub, filled and ready to go on the decking outside. You turn back around to see him stood at the door watching your every move with a wide smile.

“Can you promise me something please, Dieter?” you ask with a giggle.

“Sure, anything you want.”

“You’ll let me have a go in the hot tub, and enjoy it before whoever else is coming arrives and fucks in it?”

The smile instantly drains from his face, and a look of confusion floods him, “Whoever else? What? No. This is just you and me, sweetheart.”

“Oh.” You reply as the look of confusion on his face, seemingly attaches to your own and he takes a step forward.

“Is that okay?”

“Yeah, of course it is… I just, I just didn’t expect that is all.”

He takes another few steps forward until he’s standing directly in front of you, and he reaches out to cup your face.

He moves his mouth down so he’s whispering right in your ear, “Well, you’re the writer here, baby. You’re in control, it’s all in your hands.”

“What are you talking about?” you choke out.

“Come on, baby. We’re here. The cabin. What is it first? The walk outside, right? Where the heavy snowfall makes your pretty little dress go all see-through and then you suck my cock in front of the fire?” His voice goes right through you, the roughness flooding straight between your legs and you feel a wave of embarrassment flow through your body. Cheeks flushing pink as he watches your face intensely. “Don’t be embarrassed, baby. Like I said… you’re in control. We can play out those delicious little fantasies or we can spend a few days enjoying the snow. Entirely up to you.”

The realisation hits you like a slap to the face, he’d found it, or he’d been sent it. God. How could you be so stupid? Why would you publish it for the world to see? You’d only started writing to try and keep your feelings at bay. The words you’d desperately wanted to speak to him being freed in a way that kept you from spilling how bad you wanted him, stopped you from telling him how much you wanted to kiss him and how every time you’d watch his kiss or heard him fuck another woman it filled you with an intense jealous.

You’d thought that this was the outlet to keep the relationships you’d built with him safe, the professional and personal. He was your closest friend through everything, and despite every urge that pulsed through your veins; that one the one thing that you kept you from blurring any lines and now here you are.

He continues taking in your face, watching every single move you make before speaking again, “Whatever you want to do, baby.”

You look up at him, and you’re aware of the fact your face is blushing with embarrassment but the minute you lock eyes with his, it seems to just drain from you. Any embarrassment and any fear seems to just float away, and it’s replaced with a yearning. A need. You fight the urge to slam your lips against his, and just begin thinking about the way he’d planned it all out… The cabin, the hot tub and the goddamn lake… All key objects in the stories you’d shared with the world, and now with him; he wanted you too and he’d made sure that if it was going to happen – it would be exactly how you fantasised.

“Dieter,” you whisper, “I-I think I might have packed that dress.”

[whencartoonsruletheworld]

okay but full thoughts on the animaniacs reboot i wanna get out: 

dislikes:

i do think there was a bit too much gross-out. i assume it was there bc animaniacs ended before that really became A Thing™ in kids’ tv and they’re experimenting a little? but i didn’t really feel like it fit but that might just be because it’s not my thing 

i get the russian jokes were written in 2018-19 back when we were all pissed about the election but it did go on for a bit too long? i did like at the end though when they were like “yeah we’re not all like this we just have a shit leader” “we know the feeling comrade” but they probably coulda done more on that 

i’m not a huge fan of the human character designs? idk i know the designs in the original were supposed to be just as odd and wacky as the toons but sometimes the designs are just bad to look at now 

BRING BACK SLAPPY 2K21 

though most importantly: 

i want to see the warners fucking up the studio and the world. there’s a reason they live in a water tower, it’s because the wb studio built it over their faerie circle locked them there to stop them from destroying everything in sight. 

i know they’ve probably mellowed a bit and are still trying to figure out the 21st century but i want to see them bouncing off the walls and making the new ceo bang her head on a desk while they sing the song that gets on everybody’s nerves

because like that’s kinda the thing with the warners... they’re wacky and out of control but mainly because nobody gets them. they just get frustrated and lock them up- and you notice that it’s the humans who don’t seem to get them. 

when they interact with other toons (looney tunes cameos, the other segments) they seem to have stable friendships and all seem to get™ each other, like when the warners unleashed mindy on elmyra and then gave buttons the day off or when they go to slappy to get rid of their new nanny. 

i could go on for a while about the implications of this plus the implications of them living in the warner bros studio while being locked in a water tower but i’ll just sum it up with “it really hits with the neurodivergent kids” and anyone who’s in that category. you get it

and i don’t feel that was brought out enough yet? but it’s only season one, they’re still getting back into the swing of things, so we’ll see how it goes

however, the overwhelming positives:

THE SIBLING LOVE THEY ALL HAVE FOR EACH OTHER??? THAT’S SO PURE AND GOOD GIVE IT ALL TO ME 

these writers are NOT backing down from the political jokes and adult humor. i’m sure you all saw my out-of-context compilation but wakko literally said “hell” and yakko called someone a dick, and also they mock drumpf like every other episode. fucking fantastic 

you can tell the writers know how we all see pinky and the brain. they’re slowburn building to that labrat romance 

my GOD is wakko so fucking cute. the real reason dot’s new schtick is being “witty” and not “cute” is because they realized that wakko’s the real babey of the family 

the lowkey sad elements are starting to slip into the show- the brain backstory is the most clear, due to it being framed in such a sad light, but also yakko literally having a breakdown when he feels like he can’t be the “funny one” and can’t speak also a neurodivergent mood really does HIT doesn’t it 

the new ceo seems funny! i like her fast-paced movements and way of speaking. hope we learn more about her or she gets, like. a name? does she have a name yet? 

MY GOD THAT REVEAL ABOUT WHAT HAPPENED TO THE OTHER SEGMENTS 

the new animation and songs are so good oh my god i literally taught myself how to play “reboot it” on guitar because i couldn’t get it out of my head 

every time dot is just feral and out for blood i’m like “yeah. yeah she’s the youngest sibling you can tell” 

i would still die for these siblings istg 

THE PENNYWISE SKETCH WAS THE FUNNIEST THING IN THE WORLD

tl;dr it’s not perfect but by GOD is it close. really looking forward more to season three than two- cause one and two were made in quick succession, so three will be made knowing how the fans reacted and what they want 

but by god would i still die for these puppy rabbit salamander fae children i--

[dirtyoatmeall]

Saying I love you (Various x reader)

A/N: here are some cute little drabbles of some of the boys saying I love you. It was originally gonna be I love you for the first time but I started imaging domestic softness and couldn't help myself. If there's anyone else you want to see let me know!

Pairings: Bokuto, Kuroo, Tendo, Osamu, Sakusa, Tsukishima, Ukai, Iwaizumi x reader (separate) established relationships, gn!reader

Warnings: None :)

_

Bokuto

You were walking home together after practice like every day, swinging your joined hands as you chattered about the day while Bokuto listened intently, giving feedback when needed. You were telling him a stupid joke and when you looked at him, lips lifting into a smirk, and before he could stop himself, he blurted out,

“I love you.”

He stopped as soon as the words tumbled from his lips, he had no idea what overcame him, this isn’t how he wanted to tell you, what if you thought it was too soon? What if you didn’t want to say it back?

Your eyes had widened momentarily, playful smirk melting into a loving smile. You squeezed his hand, returning his attention to you. You stepped closer, placing a quick kiss on his cheek before tugging him along again.

“I love you too Kou.”

Tendo

It was your weekly date night, electing to stay in and escape the cold. You were lying in bed, on your back while Tendo was in between your legs, head resting on your stomach, reading the new Shonen Jump as you ran your hands through his hair absentmindedly, scrolling through TikTok on your phone. The two of you were silent, occasionally you’d show him a funny video, or he’d tell you his theories on the manga he was reading.

You sat up and scooched back slightly, resting more against the headboard and Tendo slid down to rest between your thighs. He looked up at you and you smiled, groaning softly as you stretched your arms above you.

“I’m in love with you.”

Your eyes opened and you looked down mid-yawn at the red head, surprised. He wiggled his eyebrows in response, and you laughed, letting your arms drop, weaving your fingers back into his hair and tugging lightly as you leaned down to kiss him softly, pulling back slightly, goofy grin replacing your surprise.

“I’m in love with you too dork.”

Kuroo

Graduation ceremony had just finished. You were both still in your cap and gown, taking pictures with your families. He watched you fondly as you talked with his mom and sister, making him take a picture of the three of you, bright grins evident. He pulled you to the side after, kissing you gently, he was so happy you got along with his family, hopefully they’d be your family soon enough.

“I love you (Y/N).”

You smiled wide, eyes becoming a little glossy, and you hugged him tight, exhaling shakily. You pulled back just enough to look up at him, expression full of adoration, mirroring his.

“I love you too Tetsuro.”

You laughed when you heard coos from behind you, your families no doubt already taking pictures of the intimate moment.

Osamu

You finished closing the restaurant after a busy Saturday, Osamu was leaning against the counter, watching you as you took inventory, planning on placing a supply order tomorrow. He watched as you scanned the rows, chewing your bottom lip in concentration. Your brow furrowed, pencil tapping your chin as you contemplated something. When you decided on an answer you nodded once to yourself, small smile playing on your lips.

You turned to continue onto the next section, glancing at him for a movement before looking at him fully when you catch him staring. You rose an eyebrow, one hand on your hip. “What’cha thinkin’ ‘bout ‘Samu?”

He hummed before pushing away from the counter, waltzing toward you. “Oh nothin’, just thinkin’ ‘bout how much I love ya.” You hummed in response, watching bemused as he approached, snaking his arms around your waist, pulling you closer. “Yeah? Enough to finish inventory?” He seemed to think for a moment, “Hmm, I don’ know ‘bout that…” You laughed and playfully shoved him, though it did little to move him. You lightly tapped the clipboard on his head,

“Well lucky for you, I love you enough.”

He pinched your bottom, chuckling when you yelped, moving to wrap his arms around you again, this time pulling your back to his chest as he read over your shoulder.

Sakusa

You were making dinner when he came home from practice, sizzling of the pan audible from the doorway. He called out a greeting, you turned down the music before you popped your head out of the kitchen. “Hey babe! It’ll be a little bit before I’m done, why don’t you go ahead and shower? Dinner should be done by the time you’re out.” Kiyoomi smiled and nodded, heading towards your shared bedroom.

He stood in the doorway to the kitchen, hair still slightly damp, as he watched you cook. You were in your own little world, humming along to the music, hips swaying slightly as you stirred the contents of the pot in front of you. You caught sight of him when you turned to grab seasoning, jumping slightly in surprise before smiling,

“Gosh you scared me Kiyo! One sec, lemme me wash my hands.” You moved the pot off the heat, moving to the sink to wash up as Kiyoomi walked towards you. You finished drying your hands by the time he reached you, his hands finding their place on your hips. You mumbled a greeting again before reaching up to kiss him softly, fingertips resting on the side of his jaw for balance. He pulled back and kissed your forehead before smiling softly.

“I love you.”

You smiled brightly, “I love you too! C’mon lets dish up, I’m pretty sure I didn’t burn the meat this time.” Kiyoomi snorted, grabbing plates down for the two of you.

Tsukishima

The sunlight filtering in through the blinds slowly stirred you awake. You groaned, rubbing your face before stretching, yawn escaping your lips. You glanced at the clock on your nightstand, stiffening when you saw the time.

“ ‘ts Sunday, go back t’ sleep.” Kei yawned next to you, tugging you back into his chest, nuzzling into your hair. You relaxed, turning in his hold, rolling your eyes at his groan of protest. Droopy eyes and a pout greeted you when you turned to face him, you smiled and kissed his pout, snuggling into his chest. He huffed and resumed his position, arms tightening around your waist as your legs tangled together. He mumbled into your hair,

“ ‘m love you” you laughed softly, rubbing his back, Kei was always more needy in the morning. “I love you too baby.” He pinched your hip, and you laughed louder when he rolled the two of you to face to the other way, now facing away from the window. He grumbled and pulled the covers up more,

“If you really love me, you’ll stop bein' loud and g' back t’ sleep.” You muffled your giggle in his chest, kissing his shoulder in apology before shifting slightly to get more comfortable, letting his heartbeat lull you back to sleep.

Ukai

You settled into the chair behind the counter, sipping your coffee as you flipped through a magazine. You heard cursing and loud footsteps stumbling down the stairs leading to your apartment and you smiled into your mug. Your eyes flickered up to your husband, taking in his disheveled appearance and pout before turning back to your magazine. You raised your head when you heard him come up behind you.

Longs fingers pinched your cheek before grasping your chin to tilt your head back. You smirked at the grumpy frown on his face as he leaned down to kiss you in greeting. He pulled away grumbling. “Damned woman, lucky I love you, always letting me sleep late.” You hummed in agreement and held up his lighter, which he swiped before kissing your forehead, tugging a lock of your hair and stealing a swig of your coffee before he left.

“Love you!” You called after him, laughing loudly as he flipped you off as he walked out of the store.

Iwaizumi

You waved when the screen loaded, your boyfriend’s sleepy form on the other side of the screen, on the other side of the world. “Hey baby, it’s pretty late, you going to bed?” Iwaizumi nodded, rubbing his eyes. “Wanted t’ talk though.” You smiled softly. Even though there was a 16 hour time difference between the two of you, Iwaizumi never failed to skype you at least once a day, talking about your days or planning for when he’d come home next. Usually you’d talk when he woke up, which was right before you went to bed, but he had an early practice and wanted to move it later.

He was in bed already, and he listened as you talked about your day, humming every so often in response. Though after a few minutes of nothing from the other end, you looked up from your book and smiled warmly. Light from his bedside lamp illuminated his sleeping face, and you could hear the quiet snores escaping his lips. He must’ve been pretty tired. You said his name gently a few times, a little louder to try and wake him. He blinked blearily, furrowing his eyebrows. “Hey, you should go to bed.” He made a noise of protest, shaking his head slightly. “ ‘m awake, keep telling me ‘bout your day.”

You rolled your eyes playfully at his stubbornness. “Haiji, you literally were asleep a few minutes ago. As much as I’d love to watch you sleep, I bet your phone isn’t plugged in, and you should turn off your lamp.” He grumbled but complied, the phone shaking slightly as he fumbled to plug it in, before unplugging the lamp.

“Ok, ‘m gonna go t’ bed. I miss you baby. I’ll call in the mornin’. Love you.” You blinked away the tears forming in your eyes and nodded. “Alright, I’ll talk to you in a few hours, sleep well, I miss you too, love you so much Haji.” You ended the call, taking a deep breath, exhaling shakily. It was hard, living thousands of miles from your boyfriend, but it was worth it, he was worth any distance. You set an alarm for later tonight, grabbing an energy drink from the fridge to return to your studies.

[giorno-plays-piano]

Imagine orc!Lee using his size to intimidate others. As soon as he steps out of his vehicle the car almost bounces from the weight being lifted from it. He leans into your vehicle just to let you know how much bigger he is than you. Not just that but he mentions how much smaller you are compared to him.

How could you do this to me 😫

Who We Really Are

Pairing: orc!Lee Bodecker x Reader

Warnings: dubcon, forced marriage, breeding, allusion to kidnapping, usual filth.

Words: 3347.

P.S. I’M SORRY BUT IT’S NOT MY FAULT, BLAME THIS ASK!

______________

“You gotta be careful, little one.” Sheriff smirks, but you can see a glimpse of concern in his eyes when he blocks your way to your car, looking down at you from his height as if you’re a little girl - compared to probably the finest orc in your town you are, indeed. “That gas tank of yours is no good. You better replace it soon.”

You nod, unable to look him straight into the eyes as he watches you, his pants becoming painfully tight at the thought of fucking you into his bed till you’re a mewling mess with your legs spread wide for him, asking him to pump you full of his cum. You know sheriff likes you, you see that hungry look in his eyes, the way he treats you, how softly he speaks to you while barking at anyone else around. You know Lee’s been looking for a wifey for quite some time: for orcs who often marry early he’s pretty late, being too busy with his career and election. But now it looks like he’s getting impatient, and you get a little nervous knowing you might be very much one of his candidates.

“I get you’re intimidated by him.” Your colleague Annie says while putting canned meat on the shelves, you doing the same close to her. “Guess we all are, man’s a damn sheriff! But I think Lee’s one fine man, and you always gonna have food on the table, be respected by townsfolk, you know.”

“You say it as if he’s already proposed to me.” You murmur, slightly embarrassed and trying not to think of his large figure looming over you, his thick thighs and strong, beefy arms radiating heat.

“I won’t be surprised if he will.” Annie smirks, winking at you. “It’s orcs breeding season. Unless you don’t like him because he’s an orc?”

“Jeez, you know it’s not true!”

She laughs at you: being a half-orc, she always teases you about human-orc relationships, telling you to go find yourself a good orc husband, a real man ready to protect you. Sometimes she hints that orc men are way better lovers than human, and you have to shush her before your cheeks start burning. What a shameless woman!

But you know she’s right: just one look at Lee’s muscled but chubby body makes you embarrassed as you imagine him taking you on his lap while he kisses you, his large tongue in your mouth, his hands caressing the inner side of your thighs. You’re pretty sure he has a monstrous cock, and it both scares and excites you. Sometimes in your dreams you ride him, and your belly swells with his seed when he cums so much his sperm leaks down your thighs. You like to imagine him getting angry at you and fucking you till you cry and plead him to stop, your womb stuffed with his hot cock milk. You don’t know, but Lee has same dreams, every evening imagining you on your knees with your pretty little mouth wide open to fit his fat cock. He wanna fuck you so bad he barely contains himself from going to you and banging at your door at night. It’s pretty easy: you live next to him.

And yet, even if you admit you’re attracted to him, something stops you, something dark and heavy in his eyes when he looks at you, something telling you sheriff Lee isn’t your ordinary lovestruck young man, and you stay away from him, unsure why but unwilling to look too long into the abyss, afraid of what you might find there. Anyway, you aren’t even sure you didn’t imagine his looks, and maybe he has no intention to have any relationships with you. Annie laughs when you tell her that.

The night when you heard Lee yelling loudly in your house, waking you up, is like any other night - except that your house is on fire, your kitchen’s in flames, and your head is heavy from the smell of burning wood and plastic when you wake up, barely able to move in your bed. Lee’s already in your bedroom, and he covers you with what seems like a large wet towel, wrapping you in it and lifting you in the air as if you weight nothing. Everything around grows bright orange when fire gets closer, and an orc quickly carries you into the corridor, holding his breath - flames are eating your old red carpet and a beautiful drawer you’ve been so proud of, but there’s no time to save anything, the house will be gone soon even if firefighters arrive the next minute. You’re lucky sheriff couldn’t sleep and saw the fire starting, otherwise you’d be already dead.

When you wake up in a hospital, your head hurts and the smell of burning plastic is everywhere despite the fact the room is clean, and fresh air gets through a slightly open window. When the doctor explains you what happens, the only one you want to see is Lee. He’s waiting in the corridor, his arms bandaged, he has burn scars on his face, but it should bother you, sheriff says. Orc’s skin is much tougher than human, and these marks would be gone in a matter of two or three weeks. You cry when he tells you your house is gone. All your possessions are gone with it, too, and you has nothing left, not even a penny in your pocket. How could it happen?

“Your gas tank, honey.” Sheriff says, and you cover your face with your palms, weeping. Of course, the gas tank. You should have replaced it years ago, and Lee was reminding you about it every damn week.

Yes, the house’s partly insured, but all your documents and valuable belongings are gone. You don’t even have a place to stay, and you don’t know if there’s a shelter in your town.

“Don’t bother.” Lee says, looking at officers wanting to say something with such an expression his men back off immediately, unwilling to anger their boss further. “You can stay at my place. You’re my neighbor, anyway.”

You doubt it’s something casual for a neighbor to do, but you don’t complain: thank goodness Lee’s kind enough to give you a place to live before you’ll figure something out. You know you can call Annie, but she has three kids, and you living in their small house would only make things more difficult. You shouldn’t be scared of a sheriff, right? Someone like him wouldn’t do anything to you. In the end, he’s the one who saved your life.

You agree to come to him, grateful for his kindness. His house isn’t fancy, but it’s clean and warm, and you have the whole room to yourself in exchange for cooking: Lee’s often busy with his work, and he barely has time for house choirs.

Living with him seems easy enough when you don’t see him getting out of the bathroom half naked or catch him looking at you when he thinks you don’t see. It’s hard to concentrate cooking if sheriff watches you - in fact, it’s hard to do anything when he’s there, his eyes roaming over your body, and you think you can see him getting hard. You hope you’ve just imagined it, and sheriff is simply interested in what you’re doing - he hasn’t been living with anyone since he left his parents to be on his own.

When one day he catches you looking at him, he’s just had a bath, and the towel is wrapped tightly around his chubby belly, the fabric too short to hid his big, strong legs. Your cheeks grow hot in an instant when Lee gets dangerously close, and you’re pretty much pressed into the wall when he looms over you, his huge body completely blocking the light.

“Listen, little one, I’m tired to play these games.” He growls into your face, and you accidentally lick your lips when you see his tusks so close, dreaming to touch them with your kitten tongue. Ooh, Lee gets so angry looking at you, and you feel his horse cock pressing into your belly as he slams you into the wall. “Shit, you think it’s funny what you’re doing to me? I’ll fuck your brains out, little bitch.”

You don’t know if you’ve been asking for it, doing your best to keep your thoughts to yourself, but you neither scream nor run when sheriff tears down your panties, his tongue in your mouth, his fingers touching your bare pussy softly beneath your skirt, his warm, chubby belly pressing into your body as his towel falls down the floor. You have no idea if he uses something on you, but your head’s cloudy and vision blurry when Lee kisses you like this, and soon you’re finally licking his tusks while he fingers you, sitting on his lap just like you always wanted to, his monstrous cock so fucking big you think he’ll break you in half.

“Think you can’t take it?” He chuckles, watching you stare at his shaft nervously. “You’re one fine bitch, honey. You’re made to cum on top of orc’s cock.”

His rough fingers massage you so well you cum from them alone, your eyes rolling inside your skull with your kitten tongue hanging out of your mouth. You don’t realize you’re in his bed until Lee presses you face into the sheets, and you feel his smell when he fucks you with his long, slimy tongue until you start to writhe, moaning and wining and asking for his cock. Lee’s getting impatient, you feel it, but he does his best, slowly bottoming you out till you can’t speak anymore, pain and pleasure mixing in one strange feeling as the tip of his cock is kissing your womb. It’s so good, it’s so good when he’s rubbing all the right spots, filling you full, his big, warm body embracing yours, so much smaller and softer. You mewl like a kitten for him, your cunt aching when Lee starts to move, and you’re both crying and pleading for more when he fucks you in his bed, and you get to touch his face, shoulders and chubby belly, feel his thick thighs and hips pressing into yours. Sex with an orc is so good, you mewl to him to see his dirty grin when Lee goes harder on you, soon filling your baby room to the brim with his fat cum. But he’s not done yet, oh no, what an orc stops after cumming just once? He gotta make sure he blows his load inside of you as many times as he can even if tomorrow you won’t be able to leave his bed. Lee would even prefer it that way.

When you woke up next morning, his side of the bed is empty, and you sigh, hiding beneath a comforter, deep sense of shame suffocating you when you remember the details of last night. What have you done? How could you sleep with Lee Bodecker, town’s sheriff, while not even being in relationship with him? Yes, you have always been attracted to him, but it doesn’t matter. What matters is your completely ruined reputation when people will learn about what you’ve done. What would Lee tell them about you? How were you going to live with it now?

Slowly getting up and wrapping a comforter around yourself, you shivered, looking at the nightstand and hoping to find some note from him, anything at all to comfort yourself that you didn’t make a terrible mistake.

You expect to find anything but a marriage certificate with your name on it.

Grabbing it immediately, you look at it while thinking it’s some kind of joke. Maybe you weren’t in your right mind yesterday, deciding to sleep with sheriff, but you most certainly didn’t leave the house to get married to him. It is ridiculous. Besides, it was already late when he pinned you to his bed, how would you get a certificate anyway?

But the longer you look at it, the less fake it appears to be, both sheriff’s and your signatures there along with a stamp. How could it happen? Did you suffer from amnesia or something? No, no, you didn’t. The only way to explain it was if Lee got the certificate without you, faking your signature. But who on Earth would do it? Who would agree to issue this paper in such illegal way?

Oh, people would do it for an almighty orc sheriff. You know they would.

Hearing some sound coming from the corridor, you keep a comforter closer to you and run, opening the door to see a surprised Lee in his uniform walking on tiptoe. He blinks, watching you holding a certificate in your trembling hands, and his gaze becomes heavier. However, you don’t even know what to say. You don’t understand what’s happening even the slightest bit until you think it was true sheriff was looking for a wife, and it horrifies you how barbaric Lee might turn out to be. No, wait, it can’t be true, can it? He’s the sheriff. He wouldn’t do it. Would he?

“Was it you?” You manage to mumble, and now all you’re thinking about is the explosion and your old gas tank. What if it has been his fault all along, too? The thought chills you to the bone. “The fire...”

You don’t finish the sentence when a huge orc looms over you, his face distorted by anger, and you take a step back, frightened by the change in his demeanor when his heavy hand lands on your shoulder. “What? You think it’s me who did that? That’s what you think of me, little one?”

“No, I... I-” You don’t know what to say, afraid to make him mad but also thinking that destroying your gas tank didn’t seem like something Lee - or any other sane man - would do. You could still see burn scars on his arms he was covering the best he could with his uniform, reminding yourself it was him who pulled you from a house fire in the middle of the night. Regardless of what happened yesterday, you still owed him your life. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it.”

“Good.” He snorts, turning back and getting his shoes while you just stand there watching him, a certificate still in your hand. "I don't have time for this now. I need to go to work."

You still can't get over what just happened, your mind wandering to you being married to Lee while you certainly didn't remember agreeing to it or him even asking you if you wanted to spend your life with him. Even if he didn't do anything to your gas tank, marrying you to him without asking seemed completely mad. Even for orcs eager to get married it was something totally unbelievable; there has always been a courtship period before an official ceremony.

"Is it real?" You asked, barely having enough courage to voice your thoughts when Lee looked at you again. "This... is it real?"

He's puffing like a steam engine, getting close to you again, his chubby belly pressing into yours. "Yeah it's real. What else?"

What else? What else? Was he serious?

You find yourself at loss for words, gasping for air. Lee married you. He seriously did it. It wasn't a joke.

Not knowing what to say, you think how little he cared about the law he was meant to represent, doing something as crazy as this. He didn't even ask you, though you knew what he was going to say if you started questioning him, "You have fucking slept with me, woman. You can even be pregnant with my child now, and you bother me with some formalities how I got the certificate?"

But it still didn't feel right that he didn't need your consent. Why? Did he think you'd outright reject him after what happened between you? Lee knew you had no one by your side, no suitors of any kind. Why didn't he bother to have a courtship period like everybody else?

Well, he isn't going to give you a divorce now over something like this, that's for sure. If he went as far as to have an illegal marriage registration, he surely was gonna keep you. You didn’t want to think what would happen if you tried telling police or anyone else how things were. Besides, even if you will get an annulment or something, people gonna call you sheriff’s whore till the end of your life, and this was your fault. You slept with him. You did it, and no annulment could change it.

"You could at least get me a wedding dress." You muttered in defeat, lowering your eyes down. "Didn't want to bother even with it?"

Feeling his large, warm hand on the side of your face, caressing your gently, he gives you a hearty laugh as if you amuse him, his eyes growing warmer when he hears you talking. "Wanna have a dress, honey? You'll get a dress.”

You look at him wide-eyed, unsure your heard him right. You thought he was going to scold you and call you names for being so ungrateful: he let you into his house while asking for so little in return and ended up marrying you while you had pretty much nothing to offer him but yourself.

“Call Lorraine and say sheriff needs it done in three days, alright? Her number's in the phone book."

Lorraine McCain, the best dressmaker in town. Her services always cost an arm and a leg, but she knows her job well, and if a girl is lucky enough to order Lorraine's dress, she's gonna boast about it all the time, showing off in front of her girlfriends until somebody else gets a new Lorraine’s dress.

"We'll make things right. Do the ceremony, have guests, all that sort of stuff, yeah?" He said, nuzzling against your cheek, his warm belly touching yours. "We'll talk about it when I come back, alright? Now take care of that dress of yours."

Perplexed with his sudden change of mood, you don't say anything again, your arms softly touching the back of his mighty neck when Lee leaves a clumsy kiss on your cheek, his tusks barely tickling your skin, and you smile unconsciously, enjoying his touch. Did he make the certificate because he thought you'd reject him? Now it definitely seemed like it. Why would he treat you so kindly otherwise? Maybe it's his way of showing his feelings without a risk of being refused, though you still think Lee is very barbaric even for an orc.

"Alright." You whisper when your husband presses a brief kiss to your knuckles, feeling soft. "I'll be waiting for you then."

"My good little wifey." Lee smirks when he sees you calming down and unwilling to fight him - he was afraid you'd turn on him after seeing that certificate and he'd have to lock you in the house until he spends enough nights fucking you into submission, but you really are his best girl. "We're gonna have a good life, I promise.”

Yeah, having a ceremony seemed right, he thinks in the car, looking at his house. He didn't plan to stop filling you up, and if you'd be already visibly pregnant by the time he brings you to church, townsfolk gonna start nasty rumors, for sure. Of course, he'd silence them all - he wasn't called the biggest orc in town for nothing, mind him being a sheriff - but it seemed too bothersome while he could just get things done in a couple of days, a week at the latest. Besides, the elections are getting close.

Shit, he was one lucky bastard, Lee grinned, thinking of your sweet cunt leaking with his cum once he was done with you. You'll surely be his pretty little wifey in front of everyone and a damn bitch in heat for him behind the closed doors.

_____________

Didn’t do the taglist for this one since it’s a completely new fandom for me 😌

[coeurdastronaute]

HSAU: College Part 1

Previously on HSAU

Morning started the same, every day, rain or shine. Four thirty in the morning, the alarm beeped in the small attic room, and under one section of angled roof, where a pile of blankets slumbered, an arm would appear and slap around until the offending noise stopped. It was precise and methodical and never changed, six days a week.

Lexa ran her hands over her face after pushing off the blankets, but stayed in bed just a few seconds longer, orienting herself. Though it was still summer, the sky hadn’t brightened just yet, and the night was disinterested in ending anytime soon. When she swung her legs over the edge of the bed, she stretched and cracked her joints and yawned before grabbing an old shirt to throw over her sports bra and slipping on a pair of shorts. The fan in her window hummed along while the crickets outside groaned in the heat. Outside, the neighborhood she grew up in was quiet and still. A dog barked and calmed itself. No cars moved at all. Every picket fence and yard with signs and flags slumbered before dawn came, and Lexa was the first among the living. July was awake before the dawn as well. It shook off the night from its coat and stretched forward and backward before loping into the streets, covering every surface with a few inches of thick heat. Without the sun, the heat rose up straight from the ground itself, radiating out into the world. Lexa paused halfway through her run and tied her shoe as the light changed for no cars at all. As she stood she dried her forehead on her shoulder and started off again. Her run got insanely longer with the new summer route that took her out towards her uncle’s garage. For no reason at all. “Where’s Bear?” “I let him sleep in,” Lexa smiled before distracting herself with wiping the sweat from her face with her old shirt. “I ran here though, so that’s impressive.” “Yeah, I mean... no Bear though,” Clarke shrugged and hustled about the café, preparing for the opening. It took just a second, but somewhere between flipping the sign on the door and moving to make the second round of coffee, Lexa grabbed her girlfriend’s arm and tugged her back, kissing her like she had been waiting to do since she started her run. “Your mom still at that conference?” “Until Thursday.” “Want me to help you pack?” “Why don’t you let me actually pack and then come over to watch a movie or something,” Clarke chuckled and pushed at her girlfriend’s chest. “I am a great helper.” “No you’re not,” she smiled and ran her hand up Lexa’s neck, pushing her body closer as she found herself stuck between the counter and her quarterback. “I could barely walk after the last time you came over to help.” The words made her shiver, but Lexa grinned as she swallowed and ran her hands over Clarke’s hips. “But you were way more relaxed.” “I can’t wait until practice starts again. You need to work off all that energy somewhere else.” “How about another training session tonight?” The puppy dog eyes were in full effect, distracting her from everything else. The jingling of the bell at the door made them pull apart. Lexa smiled politely, clearing her throat as her girlfriend adjusted her apron. Just a few more days, and they would be gone, away from the safety of their little town. The entire summer had been spent avoiding thinking about it too much, had been spent disappearing to float down the river, to watch movies much too late in Lexa’s room until her mother would come home late from work and politely remind them of the hour, to drop Aden off at his science camp and disappear together to the mountains and spend the day hiking, which inevitably ended with lounging in the shade atop the hill. Lexa took her seat, at her table, and waited until Clarke finished with the first few customers of the morning. Miraculously, without even having to order, a water appeared, with a big bowl of oatmeal and fruit. Just like nearly a year ago, the quarterback sat there and studied plays as the morning rush came and went. Most of her time was spent watching the girl with blonde hair and cheeks that had that damn smile. For the life of her, Lexa couldn’t figure out how she was going to find the motivation to run when she moved to New Haven. XXXXXXXXX

The evening was growing long in the tooth, but neither party could be bothered to let it end without a fight. And even though a mother made her presence known from time to time, it didn’t deter the two sweethearts in the attic hideaway. Nothing really could, with the late-July heat settling on the roof, angry and annoyed. 

“I don’t think I’ve seen your room this clean ever before,” Clarke observed as she hunkered down on the bed while Lexa finished packing and straightening up. “It wasn’t ever dirty, it just feels… I don’t know. Less lived in.” 

“I wasn’t going to leave a mess for my mom.” 

“I know. I just don’t like any of it.” 

“You’ll be doing the same thing in like six weeks.” 

“Oh no. I’m definitely leaving a mess for my mom.” 

Lexa chuckled and zipped up another duffle bag before tossing it on the pile. She gave her room a finally glance and felt a twinge of sadness in the base of her heart, a tiny little tug on her body that felt like she was already gone. She fell into her bed beside her girlfriend and smiled when a hand pushed hair away from her face. 

“You’re going to go across the country tomorrow,” Clarke whispered. “And I will miss you. But you are going to do something spectacular.” 

The quarterback slid her hand around Clarke’s hip, her thumb touching the warm skin there. She liked the feeling of her, and she wanted to remember it. 

“I’ll miss you badly.” 

“Obviously. I’m incredibly missable.” 

Lexa smiled as Clarke held it there and kissed her eagerly, without holding anything back, to try to say what she couldn’t. Hands gripped on her hips and she pushed forward toward Lexa. Hands moved to her neck and she dug her hands into her girlfriend’s hair. 

“I’ll come see you when you move in,” Lexa promised. “Just a three hour train ride and I can be there.” 

“And you’ll work very hard earning that starting spot this summer. No distractions. And if you get a chance,” Clarke grinned and slide her hand up her girlfriend’s stomach. “To get in shape.” 

“You oogling me is really good motivation.” 

“I don’t oogle,” Clarke shook her head as lips moved to her neck. She felt Lexa settle atop her and closed her eyes, pulling her closer, always closer. “I appreciate.” 

“You’ll have a good summer, right? Not miss me too much.” 

“I’ll miss you plenty, but I’ll try.” 

“Will you, um,” Lexa pulled away slightly, her lips a little puffier, her eyes a little more dilated, her hands touching skin and aching for more. “Would you do me a favor?” 

“Your mom is still making dinner. We have like an hour before dinner. I plan on doing a few favors for you.” 

“No, no, not that,” she shook her head. “Well. Kind of that. But I just… I want you to have a good time this summer, and not think about me. But while you’re doing that, could you watch out for Aden? He gets… he gets quiet sometimes. And my mom. She works too hard. I don’t want to leave them.” 

Her eyes were a little glassy with the confession and Clarke pressed her hand to her chest and nodded with a smile before kissing her softly. 

“I’ll keep an eye on them.” 

“You have no idea how good that is to hear.” 

“I can imagine.”

“Any favors I can do for you?” Lexa ventured with a smile. 

“One or two.” 

XXXXXXXXXX

It wasn’t easy for the first week, but Clarke kept telling herself that if she could make it one week, then she could do it, without a doubt. As hard as it was, she clawed her way through the first seven days without Lexa almost intact and only cried a handful to a dozen times. 

They survived with FaceTime and texts and calls. She got to see a lot of Lexa’s new world with tons of pictures and a lot of eager explanations, and Clarke made sure to keep plans with friends, electing to fake it and hopefully find some moments of happiness. And she did, swimming with friends, parties by the river, working at the café. It was all doable when she didn’t take any time to think about it. 

And every night when she talked with her girlfriend on the phone, Clarke had something to tell her that she did that day to keep herself busy. And she got to hear about how crazy training was, and how awesome the team was, and how exciting being on her own seemed to be. Clarke could handle listening to Lexa talk for hours. 

But there was something she needed to do, and she waited until the first milestone of a week to muster up the courage to do it. 

“Clarke, honey, it is so good to see you,” Gabby opened the door and smiled, wiping her hands in the towel on her shoulder before hugging the girl at her door tightly. 

“It’s good to see you, too,” Clarke sighed, melting into the motherly embrace. 

“I hope you’re hungry. I made chicken.” 

“Is it cooked?” 

“Ha ha. Very funny,” she rolled her eyes, grinning as she ushered her guest inside. 

The house smelled warm and delicious, and somehow felt a little different without Lexa’s bag of gear by the door and her cleats clogging up the entryway. The noises were still the same, some music playing over the small radio on the kitchen counter and Aden’s music thumping overhead, but there wasn’t a happy girl about to lope down the steps at the sound of the door and kiss the guest, and everyone knew it. 

“How have you been? How’s summer so far?” Gabby asked as Clarke followed toward the kitchen. 

“Not too bad. Normal stuff. Working and preparing to leave.” 

“Ah, to be young and with the summer ahead,” she wistfully sighed before taking the chicken out of the oven. 

Her phone rang, and Clarke saw the familiar pep in her step to answer it after she looked at the clock, familiar with the schedule Lexa liked to keep. 

“Hey, kid. How are you?” she smiled at her phone as her daughter’s face popped on the screen. “Your timing is great. Look who just showed up for dinner.” 

Clarke waved at her girlfriend from the counter earning a huge smile. 

“Make sure the chicken is cooked,” Lexa offered.  

“Way ahead of you.” 

“How was practice today? You still sore in the shoulder?” 

“It was great. I got some time in on the first line and had a really good film session. I just got back from dinner with a bunch of the guys. It was Shawn’s birthday, so we went to get a bite at this awesome Chinese place I can’t wait to show you both.”

“And you’re back in the dorm by nine?” 

“A couple of the other guys went to grab drinks, but I’ve honestly never been more tired in my entire life, and we have a five call time tomorrow for conditioning.” 

“Okay, honey, well thanks for calling me. You should sleep.” 

“I will. Clarke, wake me up later so you can tell me all about dinner and your day?” 

“We’ll see,” she shrugged and smiled. 

“I’ll be half asleep but I’m extra cute when I’m half-asleep.” 

“It’s true,” Gabby nodded. “She’s impossible to tolerate when she’s awake.” 

“Very funny,” Lexa rolled her eyes. “I love you guys. Have a good dinner. I’m sorry I missed it.” 

“Get some sleep,” they both ordered. 

It was a good dinner. Clarke enjoyed her time with Lexa’s family as she always did, and she felt a little better that Lexa gave her something to do. Maybe it was a win-win all along, that Lexa got to make sure her family was watched, and Clarke would have something to do. She wasn’t sure she could give Lexa all the credit for the plan, just that she was glad it worked out that way. 

XXXXXXXXX

It had been a long two months. Clarke felt every second of it, she thought, despite how busy she was preparing to move across the country. There was still work, and there was still time with friends, still the summer shenanigans she’d come to love, still time with everyone else who was going their own ways as well. 

It took forever and it went on in a blink. But by the time she got off the plane and picked up her luggage, she realized she didn’t particularly miss home at all. As she stood on the curb and waited for an Uber, she wasn’t as daunted by the idea of change as she had expected, but rather eager to embrace it all. 

“Excuse me, ma’am, you’re going to have to move along--”

Dumbfounded, Clarke stared at her girlfriend, who seemed to have somehow gotten taller and prettier in their time apart, standing next to an old truck. Clad in a backward blue ball cap and a torn up workout shirt that looked as if it was still dirty from a morning practice. 

“What are you--?” Clarke began to ask before smiling too much and launching herself into her quarterback’s arms. 

It felt good, to feel Lexa’s arms around her waist, to smell the sun on her neck, to fit so snuggly there. Clarke squeezed with all of her might, kissing what she could smooshed there, with Lexa’s arms returning it, a laugh in her throat strangled from escaping. 

Somehow Clarke realized her legs wrapped around Lexa and she was essentially a koala, latched there. She didn’t care. She kissed her girlfriend, ignoring the honks of the cars and the swirling police that wanted to usher everyone along. She somehow became the person who missed another persons lips. It was infuriating. 

“How did you know?” 

“My mom told me about your flight,” Lexa shrugged. “I borrowed a truck from one of the guys on the line. They think you’re hot.” 

“Well, that’s… sweet, I guess.” 

“I couldn’t wait to see you. Even if it’s just for a little bit.”

“You’re getting soft on me, Woods.” 

“Yeah,” she grinned, squeezing again. “I don’t care. I knew no one would be here to take you to school.” 

“I was just going to uber or taxi.” 

“I’m going to be the person who takes you where you need to go, even if you don’t ask or expect it, and not in as creepy a way as that sounds--”

She was silenced with another kiss as Clarke struggled to hide her smile. 

[nugnthopkns]

dance me to the end of love (iii)

word count: 4.3k

warnings: fem!oc, cursing, potential percy jackson & the olympians spoilers, alcohol consumption, motion sickness and vomiting

series masterpost: here

a/n: this took me a hot sec to finish but here it is! there's a dumb little latin joke in here but that's just because i'm a nerd lmao

Ryan is certainly giving Bette a run for her money in the best friend department.

Magdalene has no intentions of usurping her best friend, but Ryan is quickly becoming the person she talks to most frequently. It started on social media but quickly moved to regular texting, both of them being twenty-five and capable of communicating through more normal channels. The text thread between them isn’t indicative of their newfound friendship – it looks like they’ve been friends since high school. At any given moment at least three conversations are going on, and Magdalene regularly sends him random updates throughout the day. Ryan likes hearing about any interesting artefacts she encounters at work so she keeps mental notes to tell him during their frequent phone calls.

Despite talking to him almost constantly, Magdalene hasn’t seen Ryan since they grabbed lunch at Barn Owl nearly two weeks ago. The lake house trip is a couple days out, and she’s been busy trying to get all her ducks in a row. At work, the current project is coming to an end and Magdalene will be sad to see it go – it’s the first thing she’s been on from start to finish. She’s got a neighbour coming to spend time with Caligula while she’s away so he doesn’t get too upset. Though the days are passing by in a haze as she tries to get ready, Magdalene is excited to get away for a little bit. It’s been a few years since she’s left Denver for more than a night, electing to skip on Bette’s previous vacation invites, and it will be nice to slow down. Life is moving at a comfortable pace, but having some time to pause and breathe will keep Magdalene from feeling too overwhelmed.

Halfway through her last day of work, Magdalene gets a text from Ryan that makes her nearly double over in laughter.

Julius Caesar walks into a bar and says to the bartender “I’ll have a Martinus please!” The bartender replies “Don’t you mean a Martini?” Caesar shakes his head and says “If I wanted double I would have said so.”

It takes her a minute to catch her breath, which piques June’s curiosity. Magdalene recites the joke and her boss rolls her eyes and shakes her head, but does let out a chuckle.

June didn’t think it was funny, but I did. Thank you for making today infinitely better. You riding with us tomorrow?

Magdalene tucks her phone back into her purse, determined to remain focused for the last few hours, and misses the reply telling her that Ryan won’t be riding with Bette, Tyson, and herself, but rather with Cale and his girlfriend to leave enough space for all the gear getting brought. She doesn’t see it until she’s walking across the parking lot to her car and it fills her with a sadness that doesn’t make much sense. He’ll be there for the entire week, so does it matter that he’ll be in a different car for the four hour drive? Magdalene has a sinking suspicion about why she’s upset, but she pushes it down. There’s no space in your life for a relationship right now, she reminds herself as she unlocks the door to her apartment. Caligula is waiting patiently at the door and distracts her thoughts from the handsome man with the kind smile that’s been all she can think about recently.

The cat is incredibly perceptive and knows the regular routine is going to change, making him particularly clingy. He follows Magdalene as she finishes packing, meowing and begging for pets, and she considers bailing on her friends. Caligula has mild separation anxiety and Magdalene doesn’t go away often partly because of it – though another reason is her homebody nature. Only the thought of seeing Ryan keeps her from hanging all her clothes back up.

“Don’t worry little boots,” she coos, “I won’t be gone long. Maria is going to check on you while I’m away, and I’ll be home before you know it.”

It seems ridiculous to speak to her pet as though it’s a child, but Magdalene knows Caligula comprehends what she’s saying. He’s always been smart, and the two of them share a bond that’s hard to explain. She picks him up, puts him in the pocket of her hoodie, and they spend the rest of the night packing and dancing along to the radio.

☼☼☼☼

Bette forgot to mention that the road to the lake house is winding, and Magdalene spends the entire ride with her head between her knees. Motion sickness is something that unfortunately plagues her during journeys longer than a couple of hours and she wishes she would have thought to take anti-nausea medication before leaving the house. Tyson tries to crack a joke about her being a bad passenger, but his girlfriend swats his arm and passes her friend a water bottle with a concerned smile. The two of them speak in hushed tones, almost certainly for Magdalene's benefit, and she does her best not to throw up on the floor of Tyson’s car. After what feels like two decades the vehicle rolls to a stop at the end of a gravel path.

“Mags, we’re here,” Bette says softly, praying that her friend will begin to feel better after stretching her legs and feeling firm ground underneath her.

There’s an unintelligible groan from Magdalene, but she rises out of the car and stumbles into the house. Tyson and Bette insist that she rest and they’ll handle the unloading of the car, so she crawls into one of the empty beds and falls asleep as soon as her head touches the pillow. It’s a dreamless slumber, one fuelled by the pure exhaustion of battling illness while travelling, and when she awakes hours later Magdalene feels oddly refreshed. Her energy level is still relatively low, but she knows that intaking food won’t be an issue.

Padding down the stairs as quiet as possible in an effort to not break the peaceful atmosphere, Magdalene is met with a quiet house. She’s utterly confused – she didn’t sleep long enough to miss dinner and judging by the way the sun is low in the final car full of people should be arriving any minute. For a moment she thinks the group left her in the mountains alone, but then the sound of a trunk closing breaks the silence.

“I fucking told you bro, you should have let me drive!”

Ryan’s voice echoes in Magdalene's ears and her heart skips a beat. She didn’t realize how much she had missed him or how excited she is to see him. Despite everything inside of her saying she should run into his arms Magdalene stays put in the kitchen, running the tap to get a glass of water. She focuses on the mountain on the other end of the lake, framing the setting sun and creating a postcard ready photo. The camera app on her phone is open and angles for the best shot are found. Ryan tumbles through the door a second later, arms filled to the brim with luggage and bags of food.

He drops them the second he sees her, running up behind her and lifting her off the ground. “Mags! Cale almost hit a deer!”

The shock of Ryan’s onslaught of affection catches her off guard, and Magdalene shakes her hand, forcing the picture to turn out as nothing but a blur.

“No hello?” She laughs as Ryan lets her feet touch down on the wooden floor. “It’s the least you could give me after destroying my chance of getting a National Geographic worthy picture.”

He smiles but doesn’t let his hands drop from their perch on her waist. “There’s six more days for you to nail it. I’ll even help if you ask.”

Other bodies enter the house then, causing Magdalene to slink away from Ryan’s touch even though it was the last thing she wanted to do. They’re simply friends, and she doesn’t want Bette to get any ideas. The last thing Magdalene needs on her plate right now is her best friend forcing her to paint a custom denim jacket with Ryan’s number across the back. “I can’t believe you almost hit a deer,” Tyson sighs in disbelief.

“It wasn’t even close,” Cale grumbles, picking up his bags and stomping off to find a place to claim as his own the next couple of days. A petite redhead follows after him, giving a small wave to those in the kitchen before scurrying away. When she asks, Ryan tells Magdalene the girl’s name is Livy, and that she’s Cale’s girlfriend from back home.

Everyone shrugs at his moodiness and disperses. Bette and Tyson stay in the kitchen to make dinner, Ryan goes to claim the final room, and Magdalene slips outside to sit on the patio furniture. The sun has dropped drastically in the past five minutes, causing the air to chill. She wraps her arms tighter around her legs and watches a pair of birds fly over the lake below. It’s so peaceful, a complete one-eighty from the insanity of her life in Denver, and Magdalene thinks about never leaving. She knows it’s impossible, but as she closes her eyes and listens to the quiet laughter of her friends inside the idea seems like a pretty good one.

The sliding door creaks open and Ryan goes through as quietly as possible. He tosses a sweater in Magdalene’s direction as he walks over, plopping down beside her on the small couch.

“Thanks,” she mumbles, slipping the fabric over her head. “I didn’t realize how cold it had actually gotten.”

He smiles in response and shuffles his body a little closer to create extra warmth. Magdalene leans into him, trying to appear casual even though her heart is beating rapidly, and pulls on the strings of the sweater Ryan gave her.

“So, are you excited for this week?”

It’s more awkward than she thought it would be – seeing him in person again, especially since they’ve been texting almost constantly, and the words kind of stick in her throat.

“Honestly? Now that I’m here I am, but I was a little leery about taking time off,” Ryan explains, detailing how he’s trying to improve some aspects of his two-way play and is worried his progress will plateau. Magdalene understands and shares her own worries about taking time off work even if her boss encouraged it.

After catching up quickly and running out of things to say, the pair of them sit in silence watching the sun set until they’re called inside for dinner. It’s nice to just exist, especially with Ryan beside her, and Magdalene feels her heart sink as they separate and he goes to make sure Cale isn’t actually mad at him.

☼☼☼☼

It storms the first two days at the lake house, forcing everyone to stay inside. Tyson complains about how he has less time to drive the boat that came with the property but the others take it in stride. Magdalene spends most of the time reading for pleasure, something she hasn’t been able to do much of the past few years, and Ryan joins her for large chunks of the time. It turns out that he too is an avid reader, and the two of them discuss their favourite novels and series while the other four play board games.

“So you’re telling me you wish Annabeth would have joined the Hunters of Artemis?” Magdalene shrieks in shock, almost knocking the wine out of her glass as her arms flail in disbelief.

“I think it made sense for her to,” Ryan defends.

“But she’s perfect for Percy!”

He sticks to his guns. “I’m not saying she isn’t. I just think that at the time the offer was presented it was the most logical choice. You can’t tell me you haven’t thought about what would have happened if she did.”

She ducks her head in defeat because she had imagined it, on many occasions in fact. When reading the series for the first time in middle school Magdalene had desperately hoped Annabeth would choose the Hunters over Camp Half-Blood, gaining the family she herself never was privy to. They return to reading quietly beside each other, occasionally knocking elbows when trying to turn a page.

Tuesday brings sunshine and clear skies, which means Tyson is trying to corral everyone into the boat as soon as they’re up. Magdalene tries her hardest to get out of it but her pleas fall on deaf ears.

“You’ll be fine, stop being such a wimp,” Cale jests. She knows that he’s just anxious to soak up some sun, but the words hurt more than Magdalene would have liked them to.

Livy swats her boyfriend across the chest. “Enough! If she doesn’t want to come she doesn’t have to.” The smaller girl sends her a kind smile before speaking low enough that only Magdalene can hear her. “I know your book is just getting good and you look like the kind of person who needs alone time to function properly. Enjoy yourself.”

Seemingly excused from the day’s festivities, Magdalene gives a sheepish wave before climbing the small hill to the house. Ryan meets her halfway and is appalled when he hears of her plans.

“Nope, I don’t think so. You’re not leaving me alone to be the ultimate third wheel!”

He has her off the ground and over his shoulder in a millisecond, jogging lightly to catch up with the rest of the group. Magdalene’s laugh bounces off the tree lined shore, and she’s too busy having fun shrieking at Ryan to complain about being forced to spend all day on a boat away from her book. Tyson peels away from the dock before she can regret tagging along, and Bette tugs Magdalene to the bow.

The two girls chat quietly, giggling and sipping on the mimosas they made earlier. Magdalene isn’t a huge day drinker, but Bette makes sure there’s more orange juice than champagne to make her feel less guilty. Livy joins them a while later after becoming sick of the boys and their shenanigans. It’s nice to hang out with a group of girls that aren’t competing for the top spot in a class, Magdalene decides, and she revels in the stories they tell of going to hockey games and babysitting the children of players so they can catch a break. Twinges of jealousy creep up at the wonderful family dynamic the Avalanche seem to have, but she stomachs them. She reminds herself that other people deserve to have support systems and excuses herself from the conversation.

Magdalene slides into the free space beside Ryan, and without thinking he wraps an arm around her shoulder. It feels so natural that she wonders if it’s how he greets all his friends, but the looks of shock and Tyson and Cale’s faces say otherwise. After a bit more cruising they find a small bay to anchor in for a while. The sun had climbed to the middle of the sky and is unbearably warm, leaving everyone no choice but to jump into the water to cool off. Magdalene does her best to float peacefully a short distance away from the group but is somehow brought into a splashing war because the teams aren’t equal.

Eventually the constant barrage of water chills her to the bone, and Magdalene swims back to the boat. She watches from the sidelines and cheers for her old teammates with a towel wrapped snugly around her. Ryan breaks from the group too, insisting it isn’t fair to have teams on unequal strength. Once dry, he picks up the baseball cap he brought and places it delicately on Magdalene’s head.

“Your cheeks are starting to go pink and I don’t want you to burn,” he explains, passing her a bottle of sunscreen as well.

“Thanks Ry.”

They muse about the idyllic beauty of the scene in front of them until everyone rejoins them. For reasons unbeknownst to Magdalene Tyson is in a rush to get back to the house, which leads to him driving very fast and a little erratically. The contents of her stomach threaten to come up but she holds them down, tightening her grip on the leather seat. A wave crests and Tyson hits it head on, causing the boat to lurch and rock. Magdalene knows it’s going to happen before it does and leans over the side to save a mess from being created. All the alcohol and food she’d consumed throughout the day is no longer in her body, and heat creeps up the back of her neck. She’s embarrassed – what twenty-five year old gets sea sick?

“Are you okay?” Ryan asked, not bothering to hide the concern in his voice.

She tries to smile but it comes out more like a grimace. “I just, uh, get motion sick really easily.” Bette passes her a water bottle and she drinks it quickly, eager to get the taste out of her mouth.

Ryan lets Magdalene curl into his side the rest of the way home, and rubs comforting circles on her back to ease her discomfort, doing his best to ignore the stares from his friends.

☼☼☼☼

The trip comes to an end much more quickly than Magdalene would have liked. Tomorrow morning they’ll pack up and drive back to Denver, returning to their normal hectic schedules. Cale and Livy are heading back to Alberta for the rest of the summer, and Bette and Tyson will be going for a visit as well. She’s heard Ryan mention going home in passing, which most likely means he doesn’t have plans to stay. Magdalene will be all alone in Colorado, but she’s used to it. The only issue being friends with professional athletes is that they leave. She’s been dealing with the loss since Bette and Tyson got together years ago – having them around as her support system most of the year and then them disappearing for a couple of months.

Not wanting to think about how soon she’ll be alone, Magdalene heads outside and starts a campfire. It’s a skill she picked up as a kid and it has come in handy over the years. The newspaper crinkles under the flame from the lighter, and soon the kindling is burning well. Everyone else is still inside, cleaning up from dinner and preparing for one last night in paradise. She places a few blocks of wood in the fire pit once there’s a good enough flame and curls up in a chair, lost in thought about what comes next. There’s rustling from somewhere behind her but she pays it no mind, assuming it’s a small animal wandering through the forest.

“Can I offer you some company?” a voice says softly, waiting for a response. The movement wasn’t a raccoon but in fact Ryan, and Magdalene gestures at the chair beside her with a smile.

He passes her a glass of white wine, which she takes with an appreciative hum. They sit in silence for a moment, admiring the beauty of the setting sun. “I’m going to miss it,” Ryan sighs, leaning back in his chair and extending his legs.

She nods. “Me too. It’s so quiet up here. Denver gets too loud sometimes.”

“Tell me about it. I’m not just going to miss the lake though, it’s also lounging around and not having to worry about hockey. And you.”

The ending comes out rushed, and Magdalene isn’t sure she heard him correctly. “Me?”

Ryan looks at her like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “Yes you. Why wouldn’t I? You’re funny, smart, and catch all of my West Wing references. There’s no one who gets me quite like you, even back home.”

It takes her by surprise. They’ve only known each other for a few months, and only really started associating after the party at Bette and Tyson’s. There has to be somebody who knows him better than she does. When she voices her opinion Ryan just scoffs, saying that people treat him as one-dimensional because he plays hockey. Somehow the conversation shifts to Magdalene, and when she lets it slip she gets lonely in Denver without her friends, Ryan asks the question she’s been dreading.

“So why don’t you get a boyfriend?”

“I can’t just get a boyfriend because my friends are gone,” she laughs, but there’s an edge to it, like she’s unsure of where this will go and how to question the follow ups.

He rolls his eyes. “I know that, but like, I don’t know, wouldn’t it be nice to not be alone all the time?”

It would be, Magdalene thinks, but she just shrugs. “I guess I’m not looking for a relationship right now. I just finished school and for the first time in a long time I can focus on myself.” She leaves out the part where Ryan gives her butterflies and that if he asked she’d probably jump headfirst into a relationship with him.

The topic is dropped then because Tyson comes out of the house screaming about the night is going to be wild because it’s their last together for a while. Magdalene and Ryan share a look of mild panic, but both of them are itching to have fun with friends so they raise their glasses in salute before finishing them in one gulp.

Magdalene drinks more than she should and wakes in the morning with a killer hangover. It seems that no one else is better off though, all stumbling around looking for Advil and coffee like it’s going to be their last meal. Packing up takes a bit longer than expected, but they’re still out before the official checkout time. There’s a bit of discourse on who Magdalene will travel home with. Bette wants her in Tyson’s car, no doubt to talk about how close her and Ryan seem to be, but Cale offers to bring her with them. His reasoning is that Ryan is driving him and Livy directly to the airport, and having the front seat could be good for her motion sickness. It’s ultimately Magdalene’s choice and the idea of having more time with Ryan before he leaves is too enticing to pass up. She bids her other friends goodbye, promising to come over for dinner before they fly out, and climbs into the cab of Cale’s truck.

Once again she’s a less than ideal passenger, but this time it’s because she sleeps the entire way back to Denver. The drinking took it out of her and coupled with the queasiness in her stomach from the winding roads sleep is the only thing that makes sense. So much for extra time with Ryan she thinks as she wakes up in the airport parking lot.

“Sleeping beauty has risen!” Ryan chuckles, “Why don’t you get out and stretch your legs for a sec? We have the parking spot for another fifteen minutes.”

Magdalene does as suggested because truthfully her joints are a little stiff, and finds Cale and Livy grabbing their bags from the back. She hugs them goodbye and wishes them safe travels, which Cale returns with a warning not to get into too much trouble before heading for the entrance. Once both of them are safely inside the confines of the airport, Ryan and Magdalene get back in the vehicle and finish the last leg of the trip.

She directs Ryan to her apartment complex, and he mentions that he’s never been in this area of the city. “That’s because you have no need to be around a bunch of university kids,” she laughs. Once they pull into the parking lot, he offers to help her take up her bag. It’s only a small suitcase Magdalene could definitely handle herself, but she wants him to come up, to prolong her time with him.

Magdalene’s keys jingle in the lock as the door opens. Ryan follows her in and shuts the door carefully, not wanting to disrupt the aura of peace that permeates the space. From what he can tell, the average size apartment is the perfect reflection of Magdalene – packed full of books and plants and feels very put together despite the owner being only twenty-five. After their shoes find a home on the boot rack and the coats they brought for the drive home are hung in the closet she leads Ryan into the living room. There’s a soft purring by his feet, and Ryan looks down to see an animal. He never pegged Magdalene as someone to keep pets.

“Who’s this?” he asks, bending down to pet the small white cat.

“That’s Caligula.”

A puzzled look graces Ryan’s features. “Who?”

“Caligula,” Madalene giggles. “You can call him little boots if you’d like. He’ll respond.” She picks up the animal when it comes to her and scratches gently behind its ear.

“Why would you name your cat something dumb like Caligula, and why does it respond to little boots?”

It’s then the woman realizes that not everyone understands the reference. “Caligula was the third emperor of Rome,” she explains, “But his real name was Gaius. He gained the nickname Caligula as a child and it just stuck. It translates to little boots in Latin.”

Ryan is in awe of Magdalene for what feels like the millionth time. Of course someone as smart as her would have a crazy name for a pet and have the knowledge to back it up. He feels his chest tighten with affection but he wills it away. She isn’t looking for anything right now, he reminds himself. Magdalene’s self-professed inability to reciprocate his feelings is frustrating, but Ryan knows he’d wait forever for her.

☼☼☼☼

additional notes: catch some extra content here!

taglist: @scrunchmakar @marcoscandellas @toplinetommy @ricohenrique @lovethepreds @cutiesara23 @hockeyallthetime @stlbluesbrat21 (add yourself to the taglist!)

[tiedyemillenialbullshit]

Hope is a Heartache

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Reader

Summary: You and Bucky are a series of missed opportunities, but will that stop you both from being happy?

Word Count: 2.6k

Warnings: Mentions of alcohol, sexual situations, swearing, angst, LOTS of angst, fluff

A/N: I’m not sure when I became the kween of angst, but here we are. I think if I wrote smut, I’d die so maybe someday I’ll try that. For now here we are.

Written listening to: Hope is a Heartache by LEON

“How would I ever tell her that? What, that I think she’s the most stunning, hilarious, powerful, brave, most amazing woman I’ve ever met? She’d freak out, I’m like her best friend on the team, Steve.”

“I don’t know pal, but I can’t keep looking at you like this. Every time she walks by you stop breathing.”

Bucky never felt so sick to his stomach as he did when he thought about you and whatshisface. You had been on the team about as long as he had. You were both “freshmen” as Sam loved to joke, together. At first, you annoyed the shit out of him. Always going on about how he needed to try harder at this or move faster at that. Buck always confided in Steve about how much you pissed him off until finally one day Steve snapped. “DUDE. YOU. LOVE. Y/N. If you won’t admit it to me, at least admit it to yourself.”

Bucky remembers telling him exactly where he can shove it before stomping out of the Captain’s office to the gym. He had walked in on you taking some sort of frustration out on a punching bag. You didn’t hear him come in, so he stood in the shadow of the doorway and watched you. You stopped after a few moments to rip your gloves off, fix your ponytail, huff out a swear or four and decide to start punching again sans gloves.

Bucky knew in that instant he didn’t want a different partner on missions. He didn’t want you to want to go on morning runs with anyone else. He didn’t want to trust anyone else besides you.

You remember that day too. You were pissed at him, convinced he was trying to make you look bad because in Steve’s eyes, he could do no wrong. So who cares right? Oh you just wanted to hit him. That’s why you had elected to not place your boxing gloves back on and instead just rely on the tape wrapping your knuckles to not break your skin open.

You heard something behind you, and when you spun around you saw him watching you. At first, this wasn’t startling, the asshole had a serious staring problem, but he wasn’t mad. He was just watching you move. Nothing about his demeanor was menacing like it usually was. It was like Frosty had melted and standing before you was this man.

You decided then that you didn’t anyone else sparing with you in the gym, you didn’t want anyone else giving you a hard time because you couldn’t chug a beer as fast as Thor, and you didn’t want him to want anyone else as his partner.

It was like something clicked into place that day, a thread between the two of you pulled taught. You couldn’t place the feeling, you never had it before.

“Earth to Bucky. *white noise* Paging James Buchanan Barnes *white noise* Will the tin man please join us in this debriefing-“ Bucky finally recognized Sam was talking to him.

“Sorry, what?” Buck knew he was red in the face, but honestly didn’t care. Not after the sleepless night he had after witnessing you kiss your new boyfriend goodnight.

“We were discussing Wednesday’s mission, Bucky. You good?” Steve had a concerned look on his face for his best friend.

You were staring right back at Bucky as he sternly answered “I’m fine. Couldn’t sleep last night. Kept having a nightmare about some prick invading my space.”

The team exchanged glances, but that just confirmed to you that he did see you kiss Nick. You thought you heard someone shuffling inside quickly after giving your new boyfriend a lingering kiss goodnight. What was his fucking problem?

“I hate it when that happens. Maybe you should just try minding your own business in real life, then you wouldn’t have nightmares about it at night.” You shot back not breaking eye contact.

Bucky stood and left. The team knew better than to try and reason with a pissed off super soldier, so they let him leave the meeting early.

You practically ran out of the meeting as soon as it was concluded.

“What the fuck was that about?” Nat asked as she was following you uninvited into your room. Besides Bucky, she was your closest friend. Your closest friend, and your nosiest friend.

“Bucky saw me kissing Nick last night and took that as a signed permission slip to act like a fucking asshole, I don’t know. He never likes any of the guys I bring around. Honestly, that’s probably why they don’t last.” You really liked Nick, and you weren’t going to let Bucky scare this one off. Which would be a feat, seeing as your best friend was the former Winter Soldier.

“Y/N, do you think he ‘scares’ all of them off because he wishes he was them?” Nat looked at you without giving away too much of her thought process.

“What, like he wants to be my boyfriend? Come ON Nat, this is Bucky. It’s BUCKY. Even if he did have feelings for me, he’d never tell me. Because he’s BUCKY.” You weren’t sure why you were secretly hoping she argued with you about that. You always liked Bucky. But you were a professional, those feelings got pushed down a long, long time ago.

“I don’t know, Steve said-“

“OH. So now Bucky and I are the topic of your pillow talk, Nat? Great! Look, just because it worked out for you and Steve that way doesn’t mean it’ll work out for me and Buck like that.” You shot back.

“WOAH. I was going to say that Steve said he had been off lately, it probably doesn’t have anything to do with you, Y/N.”

“Oh, well, I mean, I knew that. Whatever, okay?” You stumbled. “It’s not going to happen. I’m with Nick and I’m happy for once. Whatever his issue is, he can talk to his therapist about it, I’m done being that too.”

One year later

“Y/N. Hi. Uh, I didn’t know you were going to be here,” Bucky stammers to you as he’s holding the hand of some innocent enough looking blonde.

“You mean in my own kitchen? Funny how that works out. I was just leaving.” You say to him. The thought crosses your mind to introduce yourself to his new play-thing, but that will just make it seem so much more permanent. You hope your self-dismissal makes her feel awkward enough to leave but you know that won’t happen.

After the disaster that was your relationship with Nick ended after 9 months, you swore off men, including Bucky. He had eventually apologized for his behavior during that debriefing and things seemed to go back to normal. You now realize “normal” is just your funny way of saying “compartmentalizing.” Things were okay between you two because you never talked about Nick and he never asked.

After it ended between you two, he didn’t even ask. You chucked it up to him giving you your space. But that was a few months ago, and now you see why he wasn’t asking you about it.

“Night, Y/N.” Bucky calls after you.

“At least one of us seems like we’ll have a goodnight,” you yell back at him as you retreat into the hallway.

You think you hear him mumble something to his date and then you hear footsteps behind you, so you slow your pace a bit.

“What’s your fucking problem? Amanda doesn’t deserve your wrath the first time she comes over.” Bucky hush yells at you.

“The first time?! Buck, our rooms are right next to each other or did you forget that?” You actually yell at him.

“Oh trust me, how could I forget? With all the sex you had for 9 fucking months straight, the sound of you moaning is literally engrained into my mind forever and you KNOW how hard that is to do.” Bucky is screaming at you now.

“FUCK YOU JAMES.” You yell as you turn and walk towards the stairs.

“DON’T FUCKING CALL ME THAT,” he screams.

Good. Now no sex for him.

You wait until you get to the stairwell to let loose the tears threatening to spill over. You didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of winning the fight. You two had fought so many times in your friendship. The other Avengers knew to just leave two be when you got into these kind of moods.

You and Nick didn’t work out for a lot of reasons, but the biggest one was your relationship with Bucky. He was so protective over you, and a few months ago when that stopped you realized you didn’t miss his protection, you missed how he looked at you. You missed the possibility that there was something there between the two of you. It was clear he had given up, and you hated that. He felt cold and distant. Shortly after that, Nick stopped coming around and you didn’t care.

Just as you sit down to let yourself unleash in between the second and third floors, you hear the first story doors open. You go completely quiet as to not want to alert anyone you were sitting on the stairs crying like a teenager experiencing their first heartbreak.

You think you hear whimpering or what could be shushed crying. You lean over the railing to look down at who it is. Sitting there with his head in his hands is Bucky. You don’t make a noise.

“Fucking collect yourself Barnes, she’s just being a bitch. Deal with her tomorrow.”

You didn’t realize you had that much of an impact on him, you only wanted to ruin his desire to have sex with her.

Satisfied and feeling slightly guilty, you walk back to your room for the night, not caring if he hears you.

Two months later

“Is this seat taken?” You turn to the side and look up to see Bucky looking down at you sheepishly.

“Where’s your hot date? I saved two seats for you and Amanda,” you say back to Bucky, genuinely interested in where his date was. After that awful night, you decided to put forth an effort to make things better with him. No one is kidding themselves that when you have personal stuff going on behind the scenes of work partners, it makes work in the field that much harder.

“Uh, she’s not going to make it,” he says with sad eyes.

“Oh, is she okay?”

“Uh yeah, we’re just not. We broke up this morning. Thanks for saving two seats though, that was nice of you Y/N.” Bucky sits down next to you and you wrap an arm around the back of his chair.

“I’m sorry Buck, I really did like her. Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I am now,” he looks at you with a slight smile to his face. You hold his gaze for a few seconds longer than normal before ruffling his hair as the DJ comes over the music.

“Ladiesssss and gentlemeeennnn please welcome to the stage…”

“I can’t believe Sam dragged us all to a strip club for his birthday,” you whisper in Bucky’s ear as the music gets louder.

“I know, look at Steve I think he’s about to have a stroke.” You and Bucky share a laugh and for a second, it’s like you’re back in your early days on the team when it seemed like all you two had was each other.

Once the girls found out the Avengers were in their midst, it was game over. If Sam’s goal was to black out tonight, he accomplished that almost immediately. Liquor was free, dances were free, and unsurprisingly the team was having an amazing time. Besides the waitresses and a few dancers, no one came into your circle, and it ended up being a really fun night. You and Bucky were having so much fun, you couldn’t remember the last time you laughed as hard as you were.

You even noticed Bucky turning down a dance or two, redirecting the girl’s attention to Thor, or the much more enthused, Sam. You expected a newly single Buck to want the attention, but he was not having it.

As the night went on, you caught Bucky staring at you, and more and more you held his stare with a curve to your lips that was reserved just for him.

“Coincidentally” the strip club was next to Sam’s favorite bar. The team decided that was the logical next destination, but you were exhausted and it must’ve been showing on your face.

“Hey doll, why don’t you say we Irish exist these assholes and head home? I’m exhausted.”

“Fuck. Yes. PLEASE let’s go!” You exclaimed as if Bucky was reading your mind. You didn’t want to be the one to suggest it, but you were so happy he did.

You both stand in line with the team but disappear behind everyone as they all head in. Bucky throws an arm around your shoulders as you walk down the street.

“You know, I’m kind of glad it’s just us the rest of the night, that was too much togetherness for me,” Bucky says. You’re blushing and you know he means he’s happy to have a friend, but you find your stomach buzzing with the hope he means something else.

“Same here,” you laugh, “what do you want to do? Grab a cab and head home? Movie? Are you spent?”

“For you? Not at all.” He’s got that dumb grin on your face that makes you want to either kiss him or smack him so he stops distracting you.

“What’re you staring at sweetheart?” You realize it’s getting harder to hide your emotions. He just broke up with Amanda, and maybe it’s the alcohol or the atmosphere, but you can’t stop the word vomit.

You stop him on the sidewalk under the streetlight. There’s no one really out on this street.

“Are we ever going to get it right?” Ope, there it is.

“Get what right?” Bucky is looking at you confused and you’re hoping you can somehow telepathically tell him you mean the two of you. Together. Finally.

“Us.”

Bucky just keeps staring at you like he did that day at the gym. Neither of you say anything, he’s got a hand on your upper arm, resting there.

The regret starts to set in. Things were just getting back to a good place between the two of you, and you just ruined it.

“You know, Amanda and I didn’t work out for a few reasons, but the main one being... ugh, shit, the main reason is that she isn’t you, Y/N.” Bucky just spoke the words you’ve wanted to hear the most but it doesn’t register at first.

He must see that either on your face or through your lack of response. You feel him pulling you in, and right before he moves his lips over yours, it hits you like a train. You love him. Your stubborn, angry, beautiful, amazing Bucky.

You kiss him back with an intensity you didn’t know was in you. You break the kiss and start giggling against his mouth.

“What! I’m not that bad of a kisser!” He’s laughing now with you.

“Sorry, sorry, I just can’t believe this is finally happening. And on a secluded street, under a street lamp. Write a romance novel already, Barnes.”

Your lips to God’s ears, a group of people start walking your way. Bucky looks around and pulls you into a small walkway between two apartment buildings.

“Come here, I wasn’t done with you.” He’s kissing you up against the brick wall like a man starved and you don’t care if anyone sees you, you’ve never felt this happy in your life.

“Let’s just do this, you and me. I’m sick of pretending like you aren’t my person,” you say against his lips.

“Y/N, I want nothing else, ever.”

[weasleyswizardpleases]

And the Living is Easy (Fred x reader)

Summary: You spend the first night of summer vacation getting into trouble with the Weasleys + Harry and Hermione. Fred x reader. Fluffy mischief mostly, but sex is discussed and implied. 

Warnings/Notes: Light sexual content but not all out smut, alcohol, heights, language. I wrote this to be a stand alone, but I enjoyed it so much that it might become part of a loose series of slice of life-y reader x twins fics set at the burrow over the summer! ps i did not edit this at all after writing it at 2am so. uh

Summer at the Weasley’s is my favorite time of year. After my mother passed, you were tossed around from boarding school to boarding school, relative to relative, never really having a say in where you went, or with whom. But ever since becoming fast friends with Fred and George while repairing brooms for the Gryffindor Quidditch team, you’ve pretty much been considered an honorary Weasley.

You stow your suitcases in the overhead and squeeze into a seat next to Fred and George. Across from you, Ron, Lee, and Harry are packed in. 

“Do you reckon you’ll ever make it out to the burrow, Lee?” asks George pointedly. 

“Yeah, you don’t know what you’re missing out on. Mrs. Weasley’s hotcakes are out of this world.” Harry says.

“And there’s loads of space to play quidditch.” you say.

“And loads of secret spots not even Mum knows about where we can basically do whatever we like.” adds Fred.

“You know my mum will hardly let me out of her sight for a day. Merlin’s sake, she’s practically ass to elbow on me all summer.” Lee says, faking a pout. “Quit ribbing at me, would you? Or I’ll spend the summer in my room coming up with derogatory names to call you on the Quidditch pitch.”

Murmurs of “Come on, we’re only joking.” and “Fine, fine.” fill the packed compartment. You lift your rat Pansy up to the window to show him the scenery.

“Bet you’ve never seen the fine English countryside like this, eh Pansy?” you baby-talk at him, scratching his little noggin.

“You know that thing is never gonna talk back at you, right Y/N?” says Fred, rolling his eyes. 

“You never know. Look what happened to Scabbers.” you say, wiggling you eyebrows. “This rat could also secretly be a creepy little pervert who watches me undress at night.”

“I suppose it isn’t unprecedented in the rat community,” agrees George. Ron scowls in disdain.

“That’s my pet we’re talking about!” he says, causing everyone to burst into laughter.

“Yeah, fine pet he was.” says Harry, grinning.

“I will say, Ron-” Fred begins, clearing his throat. “You’ll never find another like him.” He claps his little brother on the back and stands up, peering down the hallway. “Oi, it’s the trolley, look alive Georgie.” George rises and straightens his coat. The boys have been planning for ages to charm the trolley witch into selling their skiving snackboxes. They run off down the car towards her. You tuck Pansy back into his cage and watch the scenery go by yourself. Before you know it, you’re being shaken awake by Fred and George. 

“C’mon, Dad is waiting!” says George. 

“Got you some chocolate frogs, but that means you owe us one.” says Fred, shoving a wriggling paper bag into your hands. Delighted, you expertly open the bag, catch a frog, and slurp it up before it manages to escape. 

“Tank -ou” you mumble, your mouth still full. Lugging your trunks over to meet Mr. Weasley, you smile with excitement. Every summer with the Weasleys is a blast, but you know this one will start off with a bang because last week Fred absconded with a jug of top shelf mead from Filch’s office. You’d all agreed that you needed it more, since you want to have fun and have no money, while Filch obviously dislikes fun and ostensibly has some amount of money squirreled away from all his groundskeeping or lurking or whatever his job is. 

After greeting Molly, you and the twins bound up to their room- and, when you’re here, your room- pushing and shoving your way up the narrow stairwell. You toss your things down and throw yourself onto a bed, spreading your arms as if making a snow angel. 

“Oh, boys, it is good to be home!” you say, laughing. Fred and George always joke that their mother likes you, Harry, and Hermione better than any of her own actual children, and you love teasing them about it. 

“Speak for yourself, she’s already got that sending-us-to-de-gnome-the-

garden-while-hungover gleam in her eyes,” retorts George good-naturedly.

“And get your shoes off my bed! Mum will have all three of us beating out the rugs if she sees that.” says Fred. You close your eyes and pretend to be asleep, baiting the boys into attempting to push you off the bed. You wind up making such a ruckus roughhousing that Hermione comes in looking concerned, seemingly appearing out of nowhere. You all three pause from your compromised position to look at her, you releasing a vise grip on Fred, George dropping your left leg, which he had been twisting violently.

“When did you get here?” you ask, running to hug her. 

“Just apparated over, my parents would never forgive me if I didn’t at least drop by for dinner before practically moving here for the summer!” she replies, turning to greet the twins. 

“Are you going to be participating in our little soiree tonight, ‘Mione?” asks George, raising an eyebrow. 

“What are you three planning?” she asks sternly, stifling an excited smile.

“You’ll just have to wait and see,” you say. 

“But don’t wear white shoes.” warns Fred. Hermione gives you all a funny look before running off to finish her greetings. 

“Where are we going tonight, Freddie?” you ask, looking up at your tall friend. He gives you a cheeky glance.

“Oh, out by the bog. There’s a huge hill between there and the house, so we can make a fire and nobody will see.”

“And there’s a huge stand of trees and a pond between that spot and the neighbors’,” says George. 

“You two have got it all figured out. And you’ve got the firewhiskey! What a night, what a night it shall be.” you say, your voice singsonging as you dance exaggeratedly. 

“Too bad nobody invited any girls.” says Ron from the doorway. He’s been standing in the hallway looking in the mirror for some time now, fussing with his hair.

“What am I, chopped liver?” Ginny shouts from her open door down the hall.

“YOU don’t count!” Ron replies.

“We know you’ve got someone else in mind, little brother.” George says, flicking Ron in the ear. 

“It’s pretty obvious,” Fred agrees.

“You get all flustered when she corrects your grammar,” you say.

“And you let her braid your hair.” says Fred.

“And you-” begins George, but Ron interrupts, his face beet red.

“Shhhh! Buzz off you two, or I’ll start blabbing on about who you’re interested in as well.”

The twins exchange a somewhat threatened glance, but say nothing.

“That’s right, I’m not as dull as you lot like to think, thank you very much. I notice things. So let me alone or I’ll sing like a canary!” Ron finishes, turning back to the mirror for a final glance at his hair before trotting downstairs. 

“You two have crushes?” you demand, turning to stare down the twins. Fred shrugs with his usual attitude but you notice a light blush spreading across each of their cheeks. You swat him across the chest. “Why didn’t you tell me? Who is it? You motherfuckers.” You grab George by the collar. “George, tell me who it is! A crush, my god.” You throw your hands up in the air. They’re being super weird, so you decide to drop the subject. “When you snog every girl and half the boys in the school, between the two of you, you practically hold us all down to tell us the details but now you’ve got a crush and suddenly you’re like a couple of mimes.” You look each of them in the eyes, and both avoid your stare. “Fine! Don’t tell me.” You throw your hands up in mock anger and lead the charge downstairs to begin setting the table for dinner.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~After dinner, you pass the evening playing cards and chatting until Mr. and Mrs. Weasley retire for the night. Then, you’re left with all your friends and Percy, who it has been agreed simply cannot know you’re sneaking out to drink in the woods, because he is a killjoy. Using a previously discussed maneuver, Hermione attempts to trick him into believing that she and Ginny are going to bed, hoping that he will get nervous about being bullied if left alone with you and the twins, and elect to follow them to bed soon after. However, Percy is in an unusually jovial mood, and so Ron and Harry are forced to retreat as well. As a last line of defense, you pretend to fall asleep on George’s shoulder, nuzzling into his sweater. When Percy gets up to go to the bathroom, you dash outside into the moonlit yard, covering your mouth so your giggles don’t give you away. You run to crouch behind the garden shed, doubled over with laughter. 

“I thought he would never stop yapping.”

“God, how are you two related to that bore?”

“We can’t help it.” Fred says, bending to gather rocks from the ground. 

“What are you doing?” you ask.

“Watch!” he raises his hand to throw a pebble at Ginny’s window, but you grab his wrist.

“Have you lost the plot? Percy will hear! And probably your mum too, with your aim. I’ve got a better idea,” you say, peeking around the garden shed while gesturing for the boys to stay put. You pop out of the shed with a dusty, rickety broom. 

“Does this thing still work?” you ask.

“Well enough,” says Fred, getting a running start and jumping on the broom. Wobbling a bit, he sails up to Ginny’s window and confers with the girls, then moves on to Ron’s window, where he perches on the sill, one foot dangling out the window.

Beside you, you’re aware of George’s presence beside you in the cool, sticky night.

“Bloody brilliant,” he murmurs, elbowing you gently. “How’d you even know that thing was in there?”

“Lucky guess. I mean, with a family full of Quidditch players, there’s bound to be a broom lying about someplace.” 

Fred jumps down onto the broom and turns a few experimental loop de loops overhead before nearly falling and coming to a shaky landing near your feet. 

“That one belongs on the rubbish heap, honestly,” he says, laughing as he tosses the old thing aside.

“Oh, sure, blame it on the broom,” you tease.

He’s soon followed by Ginny and Hermione on Ginny’s broom. They glide down and come to a halt next to you, stepping down gracefully.

“How are Harry and Ron going to get out? They’d have to go right by Mr. and Mrs. Weasley’s room, unless Harry has his broom up there with him, but I think I saw it in the foyer.” says Hermione, looking at Fred worriedly.

“Well, err, I told them to climb down,” says Fred earnestly.

“What?!” says Hermione. “They’ll be loud as bison, besides probably breaking their necks.”

“It’s not my fault they’re too dumb to pass their apparation O.W.L.S! They’ll be fine.”

As he finishes his sentence, Ron’s window slides open and Harry’s head pops out. He lowers what appears to be a rope made of sheets and blankets tied together. Hermione’s brow furrows as she watches, helpless, while Ron artlessly slips one leg out the window, before even checking to see that the “rope” is nowhere near long enough to reach the ground. Ginny giggles, biting her lip when she sees Hermione’s distress.

“Do something!” Hermione hisses, nudging her. Ginny groans and soars over to boost Ron onto the back of her broom, going back to do the same for Harry.

“Shite! The firewhiskey,” you whisper, smacking your forehead. Everyone lets out a collective groan, but before you can send someone back up to hunt down the alcohol, Ginny opens her backpack, revealing the gleaming jug. Everyone cheers, but then quickly realizes that loudly cheering may have blown your cover. Fred and George scurry off into the brush and you all follow them down a lightly trod path through the countryside, eventually reaching the open bank of a large, murky pond. This is a spot you’ve never been to before, probably because it’s a fair stretch away from the house, and apparently from any civilization at all. 

Hermione quickly conjures a large fire, creating a pocket of warmth in the chilly night air. You lean against a large rock and shiver when the cool stone brushes the back of your neck. Ginny pulls out the firewhiskey and hands it to Fred, who pops the cork, shouting with glee before knocking back a sip and passing it to George, who passes it to you. The familiar sickly sweet liquid burns your throat and warms your stomach, and you feel your (already barely existent) inhibitions begin melting away.

Before long, Ron suggests that you all play a game, and you run through your options: truth or dare, spin the bottle, a wizarding game you’ve never heard of, and hide and go seek. Hermione refutes hide and go seek on the basis of safety, and Fred refutes spin the bottle on the basis of the fact that four out of six of you are siblings. Not everyone brought their wands, so you can’t play the magic game, and you’re left with truth or dare as the apparent winner, which you were rooting for anyway, because you want to see what you can get the twins to do. It almost makes you wish Percy was here so you could put him in a compromising position, but knowing him, he’d find a way to make walking on hot coals boring. 

“I’ll start, I’ll start!” you volunteer, looking around the circle. “My first victim will beeeee…” you look at Hermione, who cringes nervously, then spin around to point at Harry. “Harry Potter. What will it be, Mr. Potter, truth or dare?” you ask.

Harry shrugs. “Hmm.. I’ll do.. Dare, why not?” he replies. 

“Alright Harry, I dare you tooooo.... Oh, easy. I dare you to smack Ron every time he says something you think is stupid tonight. And be honest, or we’ll smack you,” you say. The twins nod in agreement. 

“That’s not fair! That��s barely a real dare!” protests Ron. You raise an eyebrow at Harry, who turns and gives his friend a good wallop. 

“Alright Harry, your turn.” 

You play for nearly an hour, all the while passing the bottle lazily between you, until everyone’s good and tipsy on the strong liquor. Several good dares are exchanged: Fred is dared to give you a lap dance, which he does with gusto and an uncomfortable amount of eye contact. You dare Ginny to race you across the pond and back, and you both strip down to your skivvies and plunge into the chilly water. Ginny wins, of course, but you just wanted an excuse for a swim. Fred lends you his cloak, patting it onto your shoulders to dry them before you pull your pants back on. George dares Ron to walk back to the house and get food, which he reluctantly agrees to after everyone bullies him into it. By the time he gets back with a basket of pastries and jam, you’ve transitioned to mainly truths, because the well of dares has run dry. 

When it’s Hermione’s turn to ask Fred, she blushingly asks if he’s lost his virginity. 

“What, do you all think I’ve snogged every girl we know without scaring? Have a little faith, please.”

“Clever, but that’s not an answer!” slurs Hermione, pointing at him and grinning. “Have you actually had sex before, or do you just talk a big game?” 

“Well, have you?” you ask, laughing as he tries to bluster out an answer.

“”Course I have. Ask anybody. Everybody must think George and I are the male sluts of the century, the way you people talk.” 

“Still not an answer!” you say, looking at him mischievously. 

“How’s this for an answer, then?” he retorts, pulling you to his waist and kissing you on the lips melodramatically, throwing you up against the rock, practically fucking but for the clothes. What’s probably thirty seconds of kissing at most feels like an hour. Everyone goes “Oooooh!” and when he finally lets you go you’re flabbergasted, but you recover your senses.

“Point taken, then. Alright Freddie, your turn,” you say, straightening your clothes and trying not to look like you enjoyed that. 

“I dare Hermione to let us play hide and seek, for fuck’s sake,” he says, lazily.

“Ugh! I might be drunk but I’m not letting anyone stumble around alone in the pitch black plastered out of your mind. Ask me a real question!” 

“What if we weren’t alone?” Harry asks, looking around. “I mean, we could go in pairs or little groups. Like team hide and seek, basically.”

“I call Fred and George!” you cry, throwing your arms around their sweaty necks. 

“Fine, but please be careful. And everyone should be on a team with at least one person with a wand,” says Hermione, who teams up with Ron. That leaves Harry and Ginny on the last team.

George produces his wand and casts an illumination spell.

“Not it!” You shout, immediately echoed by Ginny. 

“Alright, we’ll count to 50” says Hermione, but Harry and George protest until they finally agree to 3 minutes.

Fred tears off into the woods and you and George follow, bushes thwacking you in the face, vines snagging at your ankles. You break through the brush into a field, panting, and stop for a break. 

“Where are we going?” you ask, looking around. “And where are we?” 

“No idea!” Fred says gleefully. 

“What about over there?” George nods towards a patch of grass and trees down in a glenn. You lope down hill through high grass and crash to a halt in the stand of trees, crouching low. Fred huddles next to you and George clambers clumsily into one of the trees, flattening himself into one of its crooks.

You can feel your stomach churning after your run, but you manage to successfully push down the acrid taste rising in your throat. Above you, you hear George belch, and just manage to slip out of the way as he spits a pitiful glob of vomit to the ground.

“Oi, we’re down here, you lout,” hisses Fred, ducking.

“Look at the state of you,” you drawl, bumping into Fred as you readjust around George’s vomit. He groans from his spot up in the tree and lies back down sleepily. To your surprise, you feel the urge to pull Fred closer rather than pushing him away. The earthy smell of the forest floor calms your stomach, and you find your mind wandering to his lips, his hands on your waist and neck. Buzzing with drunken impulsivity, you wrap your arms around his slender waist and pull him to sit beside you. He looks surprised, but readily slouches against the tree trunk next to you. You can feel his chest rising and falling with each breath. The air is still and cool in that settled way characteristic of the night.

Overhead, you think you can hear George beginning to snore. 

“Freddie-” you begin, but before you can say a word, his lips are on yours, his hands tangled in your hair. You push him down and roll over so that you’re straddling him, gripping his jaw in one hand as you kiss him, hard, then gently. His lips are softer and more relaxed than they were when he kissed you earlier, and his body less certain. There’s no false bravado in him now, and you bite his lip gently, your tongues barely batting together. You reach down to unzip his pants but he pulls back.

“Y/N- I- Look, I may have lied earlier,” he says, his face flush with desire and embarrassment. You look at him quizzically, your drunken mind not connecting all the dots. 

“What do you mean?”

“Well, I haven’t… done this before. I’ve only ever kissed. Although I’ve done quite a lot of that.” he says quietly. You blink.

“Oh. Oh! You total freak. Why go to all that trouble to convince everyone you have?”

“Have you considered that maybe I just wanted to kiss you?”

This shuts you up. He pulls you back down to kiss you again, this time on the cheek, on the forehead, the neck. 

“Don’t do anything you don’t want to do,” you say carefully, brushing a bead of sweat from his forehead. 

“No… no, I’m ready. I want this now,” he says, tugging at your shirt. You pull it off over your head and toss it into the grass, the game of hide and seek forgotten. Let the shirt be a warning flag to any nosy passerby. Fred kisses across your chest. 

“Freddie, we’re drunk,” you remind him, your breathing growing heavier as his tongue flicks across your nipple.

“I want you,” he mumbles into the crook of your neck in between kisses. “I want you, I want you, I want you,” he says. You kiss him in reply, and move again to unzip his pants. You feel his hard member ready to burst out of his jeans, and it sends a thrill through you.

You had considered that you might one day wind up with Fred or George, and honestly, you had figured it would be on some less-than-sober whim like this, but you never really pictured it. You certainly never imagined Fred like this, innocent and tame, hoping for someone else to take the lead.

“Will you show me how?”

“Yes,” you breathe your reply into his mouth.

“Will you go slow?” he asks sweetly, his coy submissiveness sending tremors through your body. 

“Yes. Come closer.”

In the morning, you groggily open your eyes at the sound of birds chirping. You sit up, your head throbbing, and look around. Above you and a few feet to your right, George is sleeping soundly on his belly in the flat convergence of an oak tree’s branches. To your left, shirtless and smeared with dirt, is Fred curled on top of his cloak, also fast asleep. 

“Guess they gave up on finding us,” you mutter, running a hand through your hair to smooth it into place. You remember what happened last night well enough, although some parts are cloudier than others, and you don’t remember deciding to fall asleep at all. You suppose it just happened at some point. Your heart beats faster, wondering if you and Fred will be an item after this, or if he’ll want to keep it quiet, or if you just won’t talk about it. You’re not sure what you want, yet. It’s still purple pre-dawn in the countryside, the sun not quite peeking over the horizon yet.

You know you enjoyed yourself, and you adore Fred- as a friend, certainly. As something more? Maybe. You brush away your anxieties and trust that you’ll settle things when you’re less groggy. Suddenly, it dawns on you that you’ve got to get back to the house before Mr. and Mrs. Weasley wake up and notice your absence. You stand up as though the ground caught fire, kicking at Fred and shouting at George to get down.

You fetch your shirt from a nearby bush, and pluck a twig from Fred’s hair as he looks up, dazed.

“God, my head,” he says, squinting up at you. “What the hell time is it?”

“Never mind that, you’ll have worse than a headache if we don’t get back to the house by like, yesterday.”

“Merlin!” George exclaims, perking up and basically falling from his perch to the ground. Recovering he stands up, taking his surroundings in. “Hold on, what the hell happened to you, Fred? Where’s your shirt?”

“No time for all that, go!” you say, shoving George in the direction you suppose the house is in. You muster as fast a pace as you can and follow him, Fred scrambling to gather his cloak and tee shirt before catching up with you. With George’s back to both of you, you exchange a goofy grin and a wave of relief runs through you. He obviously doesn’t consider last night a mistake, either. You slip your hand into his and make your way into the breaking dawn.