#then english release i was like what the hell. then like half a year later volume release i was like what the hell. and now now my reaction

[piduai]

easily the most insane moment in the entire manga and it's not even his first time biting off a human finger

[on-a-lucky-tide]

Nikolai tells Alejandro about the day he met Price for the first time.

cw: none.

The safehouse that sat just outside Chicago was pretty tidy, all things considered. The sofas had stuffing in them, there was a pool table with most of its balls and three cues, and there was a kitchen stocked with an adequate number of pots, pans and miscellaneous utensils. Miscellaneous, because the only three things Soap ever saw fit to use was knife, fork and spatula. The cutlery was optional.

Unlike Nik, who had been holding out with his previously undisclosed talents, and was currently whipping up dinner for the three senior officers. Gaz, Soap and Rudy had ordered pizza from a decent looking joint in Chicago town, and the four empty boxes and half drunk Pepsi bottles still sat scattered on the low coffee table as they watched Price, Alejandro and Nik chatter in the kitchen.

Ghost was asleep on the sofa, one arm slung over his face as he dozed before his meal. The fact that he had stolen several slices of pizza as well had surprised precisely no one.

After some fiddling, Alejandro managed to get the small stereo on the kitchen counter to work, the crackly voice of Madonna rising above the sound of sizzling garlic and onion with ‘Like a Prayer’. It was back in the charts thanks to some new superhero movie in the cinema.

“I remember when this was released,” Nik said. “March 1989. A few months later the Berlin Wall fell and I had my first kiss with a German girl from the west, an American radio station was playing in the background, this.” He chucked a handful of peppers into the pan, stirring them into the onions.

Price grinned fondly, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Always a hopeless romantic. Couldn'ta had any hairs on your chin even, Nik.”

“I was fourteen. Almost a man.”

“Ha, I was four. I always forget...”

Nik winced. “Oozush, you make me feel like a… what is it you say?”

“Cradle snatcher.”

“Yes, that,” Nik said, deadpan.

“Did ya kiss random girls in the street a lot, or was the fall of the Soviet empire a special occasion?”

“You make me sound like a pervert…”

“Ahh, ignore him, Nikolai. These young officers have no concept of romance and the… emotional power of revolution, of history in the making,” Alejandro chimed in, “a kiss exchanged on the cusp of a new dawn, it is a powerful thing.”

“Thank you, colonel.” Nik slapped Price’s hand as he reached for one of the cherry tomatoes on the edge of the chopping board, and weathered his baleful gaze with a placid stare. “Has the captain ever told you the story of how we first met?”

“Oh, bloody hell, Nik, I really don’t–”

“No,” Alejandro said, grinning. “I would love to hear it.”

Nik raised his eyebrows at Price, who covered his face with his hand, groaning into his palm. “Not my finest hour…"

Nik cut open the mince and passata before he continued; revenge was best extracted at a leisurely pace so it could be enjoyed. “I was sitting in the Prince of Wales after my shift had ended at the embassy, minding my own business, when this young, baby-faced man sat on the stool next to me and ordered a pint of bitter.”

“Nik–” Price warned, but without heat; the embarrassed smile made his whiskers twitch.

“He was wearing his beanie, his civilian clothes, but he had British military written all over him. He might as well have arrived in his parade uniform. I knew MI6 would be sending someone to meet me that day, but a young man straight out of Sandhurst was a surprise. He was trying so hard not to look at me and I decided to see how long he would last.”

“Two years out,” Price corrected, his cheeks reddening in preparation for what came next.

“‘Ow’s yer English?’ he asks,” Nik’s impression of Price was perfect and Alejandro chuckled into his beer, “and I reply–”

“--how's your Russian?” Price added, pained. "It was bloody nonexistent, wasn't it? What a wanker."

“The flush was enough. I was not sure whether MI6 intended me to provide him with intelligence or take him to bed, I am certain either would have satisfied their goals at the time.”

“I was trained as a soldier, not a bloody spy. You were my first big mission in that area...”

“A honey trap,” Alejandro said, knowingly, and Price's face turned a darker shade of red.

“Da. A very sweet one, with such serious eyes for such a young face. But they had done what I asked; sent a soldier I could talk to, not a spy to manipulate me. We talked for hours, and every time I tried to bait him, he remained stalwart and honest to his mission. It was impossible to say no. It is for John Price that I turned informant.”

Price tipped his beer in a toast and then necked the rest. Perhaps to hide the look in his eye from Alejandro, but the colonel was far too shrewd to have missed it. He was also, however, a gentleman and didn't push for any further acknowledgement.

Nik finished up the bolognese with fresh pasta, some mushrooms, tomato puree, spices and red wine, before serving it up onto four plates. “Lieutenant!”

Ghost rolled off the sofa, kicking Soap's feet out of the way, and dragged himself up to a kitchen stool. “Smells good,” he grumbled. “Wassis about you bein’ a honey trap, sir?”

“Thought you were asleep,” Price murmured, shaking salt and pepper over the top of his meal. “It's classified. Strictly need to know.”

Ghost hummed as he rolled his mask up to his nose and tucked into his dinner. He would ply Nik with bourbon for the intel later, because he absolutely needed to know.

Nik pulled up the stool closest to Price’s side, and they sat shoulder to shoulder as they had fifteen years before in the Prince of Wales. Back then, Nik had been full of fear and uncertainty, his conscience a writhing mess inside his chest, the spectre of depression darkening his eyes.

They had tried to turn him in Copenhagen but he had resisted. He had known they would try again when he was stationed in London and he had been ready to resist unless they met a specific set of his criteria. Nikolai had thought it unlikely, until Lieutenant John Price, young, completely out of his depth despite being so clearly brilliant, but so determined to get it right, had talked him into believing there was hope after all.

Nik's hand found Price’s knee under the table, his thumb stroking over the top, and the backs of Price's fingers passed back and forth over his weathered knuckles in return.

Nik had bound his destiny, his soul, to John that day. He had only realised it some years later when his head had cleared enough to listen to his heart, but since then, he had never looked back.

[neon-in-the-night-time]

on may 12th, 2019, season 3 episode 3 of miraculous ladybug bakerix was released. a high schooler, i watched it as soon as the english sub was out. at the time, knowing nothing about bread, i questioned nothing of what the show told us of what's traditional in bread baking. 5 years, a full academic year's worth of classes in breads and viennoiserie, and partway through an internship at a bread bakery later, i am returning to the episode to see how badly astruc fucked up. let's do this.

ok u know what? i’m turning on the french dub with english sub... i don't want to hear any "cat noir"s here it's chat noir

ok i know i’m watching this for the bread but she KNITS her dad a WHOLE ASS SWEATER evERY YEAR for his birthday? holy fuckingn shit marinette where do u find the time... his birthday is TODAY and she has like a tenth of one panel done? holy shit marinette ur cooked

"he's a little old fashioned in his ways" ...he was racist, wasn't he? i feel like i remember the reason mari's grandpa became a hermit was bc tom married sabine

what the fuck is tom doing to that loaf of bread dough... the tiniest of folds lmao

bro* gets a flour delivery of a single bag of flour lmao... looks like a 50 lb but idk. no way that mailman is just casually hauling that over his shoulder. idk. i don't know how strong mailmen are

*bro being rolland dupain

ok but why is marinette struggling to carry the bag of flour... does she not help her parents in the bakery? i couldve sworn that was a plot point... or maybe it was fanfiction.

also the animation is waaaaaay higher quality than i remember... perks of not watching it on youtube i guess

what the fuck is rolland doing... only folding half the dough. why is he sprinkling salt onto it. more importantly why is he fucking with these mice

ok i mean like. you definitely want elasticity and developing gluten... but that's in the mixing stage. this is clearly after the dividing... that dough is hella overworked

bro doesn't like vegetables and cheese in bread.... so he's one of Those people. got it

"my son and his wife who thought adding rice to the dough would make the inside of the bread lighter" ...i’m sorry THAT'S what it was about? also wtf? rolland's right! why would you want the inside to be LIGHTER? you WANT a nicely developed crust! also i sure as hell hope tom and sabine aren't doing that to their baguettes because then it's not legally a baguette (i forget if it's in paris specifically or france broadly but either way if you're baguettes have anything except flour water salt and yeast it's not legally a baguette). also adding rice flour... wouldn't reeeeeeally lighten the inside?

damn rolland is so immature

so he puts the bread in the oven, then gets akumatized... damn this akuma fight's on a timer lmao don't wanna come back from fighting ur grandpa only to realize your bread is burnt

also love how they didn't even say what kinda bread it is (/s) like come on. is it pain au levain? sourdough? based on the shape, color, and way it's loaded i assume it's not any kind of sandwich bread. but no. everyone knows there are two types of bread: Round and Baguette

ooooh the akuma's name in the french dub is boulangerix... that's way better than bakerix. bakerix is a stupid name

watching this i think it mightve actually came out in a dub that wasn't french first. idk tho

most likely the akuma fight won't have a lot of bread shit i can critique

lmao the minute rolland deakumatizes he's worrying about the bread in the oven 😂 me too bro

that bread was not floured or scored before they loaded it into the oven lmao

not chat noir trying to get out of picking a favorite lmao

moral of the story: rolland was right except for when he was wrong and astruc knows nothing about bread

[liquidcrystalsky]

once again half this blog is about programming so i can talk about whatever computer shit.

i wanna use opensᷤuͧsᷤeͣ (does that render correctly im doing an english furigana bit) but i literally just moved to another distro.

like i use linux, for about a year i started with Pop!_OS because it was easy (the initial convenience of it was offset by the worse usability later on) and then for a year i used Debian. I just switched to kubuntu, but now im feeling like i need something different.

Pop!, Ubuntu, and Debian are all "Stable" distros, which does not mean like stable as in no bugs, they're "temporally" stable, they have major version updates, think like windows, they have major versioning like windows 7, 8, 10, 11.

Windows 10 is actually a great example of how stable distros are like, you have the distro "windows 10" and then two updates a year (21H1, 21H2, 22H1, etc.) updated components are held back in order to test their stability and to make sure they will last for as long as possible, as they only have 2 major updates a year. This does not mean you cant update, security updates are still pushed, and usually they have little bits here and there.

An example of a component is the "desktop environment" which you may have heard of in the context of "KDE Plasma" or "GNOME", but on windows it's called "Windows Shell", it controls how windows "looks" and how it feels, it's the Taskbar, the Start Menu, the desktop, anything that isnt part of a program. You can even replace it if you want, but i dont think any of them are that polished compared to it. At any point, windows could completely change the look of Windows Shell, however since it's a stable release, they keep changes to major versions.

Windows Insider is (kindof) like a "Rolling Release" where the newest packages and components are always given to you right from when they're updated. You don't have to wait for the next big update to get the next packages, it's just there as soon as they push it. This seems like hell, because on windows, it is, but linux updates arent as annoying.

If you've ever heard of "Arch", this is why it's so popular, it is THE rolling release distro. Rolling releases are a lot more appealing on linux as:

1. as mentioned, updates aren't a huge hassle on linux compared to windows, you dont have to restart, they dont bug you all the time, you can even get it to just automatically download all the updates while you're not doing anything.

2. programs are packaged by the distro themselves, if you want the newest version of audacity or blender or whichever program, getting them from the distro themselves is likely gonna give you a pretty old version. This doesnt stop you from just going to the website and downloading the newest version directly from the developer, just like how you'd normally install programs on windows, but you can be waiting ages for updates to get the newest version of Plasma which has fixes for something you have trouble with, and you're just stuck with the old buggier version (remember stable means unchanging, not bug-free)

3. many linux users are developers who want to make sure their programs and stuff work with the newest packages before they get put into stable distros, and many other linux users just like having shiny new things (MEEE)

I dont know if i had a point to this post. I just had the urge to write about distro release cycles. OH RIGHT, OpenSUSE.

OpenSUSE tumbleweed is a rolling release cycle and i really want to try it out just because from what i hear it's got all the newest stuff but still it goes through EXTENSIVE (but automatic, by robots) QA testing befor being pushed to the user, it's probably rolling release done best but it's crazy how nobody talks about it. I also hear it's got one of the best KDE Plasma experiences and yeah i've already been having issues with kubuntu. hopefully it goes well soooo idk

[centrally-unplanned]

To recount a twitter story, Kenny Lauderdale posted this very normcore review of the English release of Gainax VN Princess Maker 2 from the May 1996 edition of the (Michigan) Times Herald:

It includes some great quotes, like Japanese professor Etsuko Yamashita believing its existence is a step back for feminism - very amusing given how gender-equal the player base for these games is today! Time marches past us all. Sometimes for the better - it cost $140 in Japan on release!?

But what I found interesting was the art featured - because that isn't Princess Maker 2?

This is PM2, that girl above is not our player-named protagonist.

Turns out that is art is from Princess Maker 3:

You can see specific scenes like the beach as well, in case you had any doubt. This is weird though because, well, Princess Maker 3 came out in January of 1997? More than half a year after this article was published! Which means they somehow had access to promotional material for Princess Maker 3? Which to be clear absolutely did exist at the time - in fact, Princess Maker 3 was bought up by Sony as a limited release for their brand-new console the Playstation. PM3 was actually featured on the cover of the first ever volume of the Dengeki Playstation magazine, released in January of 1995 (the PS1 coming out in December 1994):

Alas I haven't found a copy of this scanned online, so I can't say what it contained. This being two years before the game's release does honestly point to some development hell drama, the timeline for a game back then should not be that lengthy. Man, wonder what was happening at Gainax in 1995 that might have been a distraction...

Still, we have a question of how this American newspaper article got their hands on them. It also seems worthwhile to note that this article is syndicated - it was published in a dozen newspapers across the country around this time, but with different titles and photos to fit each paper's needs. And other papers do have correct Princess Maker 2 screenshots on them!

I have no grand answer here or anything, sorry guys, but I think we can infer it. The article itself actually mentions that a "third one" is now in the works, which is something they would have learned from the publisher of the English version, IntraCorp (they weren't reading Japanese press magazines in 1996!). IntraCorp likely wanted them to mention it because they themselves were going to hopefully license it, assuming the first (well, second) one was successful - this was their first foray into this specific licensing niche, previously making action games like Witchaven II: Blood Vengeance. In early 1996 they sent out copies & press kits to reviewers, and I am guessing that copy almost certainly included - perhaps poorly labeled - promotional material for Princess Maker 3 as well that Gainax had provided them, so they would mention it in the article and seed hype. The harried layout editor at The Times Herald opened the wrong folder and threw them on the page by mistake - after all the author didn't work for him, he worked for the Associated Press. He had no experience with the game to know his error.

We will never know because this is a niche curiosity from almost 30 years ago, sure, but we will also never know because the game being reviewed above...was never released! IntraCorp declared bankruptcy soon after the publication of this article. They were not the localizers themselves - a team of 4 people called SoftEgg were - but their contract with them was binding enough that it left the virtually-finished translated copy in perpetual legal limbo. Eventually it was leaked onto the internet as a form of abandonware a few years later. The hard-working men of America never got to be "Sim Dad" in 1996 unless they were intrepid enough to be UseNet Forum users hunting down and running Japanese-language romhacks.

Which is not a hypothetical, that was occurring. I will leave you all with the opening quote from the rec.arts.anime group's User Manual for navigating your Nihongo copy of Princess Maker 2, preserved still in the roms you can download today:

We all know of Gainax as being the wonderful company that brought us Wings of Honneamise, Otaku no Video as well as multitudes of garage kits and other paraphenelia. However with the release of Princess Maker 2, one might think that their true calling is in computer software! This band of self described otakus which managed to lose almost all their profits in the anime business have come back by releasing several computer games (some of which were on display at Anime Con).

...written, of course, in 1994 :)

[fibrielsolaer]

FibS lays down the facts: April o' Neil

I'm so fuggin' tired of hearing morons drool out their mouths over this so here's all you need to know:

It's perfectly fine that Rise April is black.

April o'Neil has been portrayed as black before Rise.

April o'Neil was not "originally black" in the Mirage comics.

Rise did not make April black for woke points. Rise makes numerous changes to Turtles orthodoxy so that it isn't a boring repeat of the more traditional 2012 cartoon that immediately preceded it.

(EDIT: Many of the comic scans from this blog post, as well as some of its information, are from this blogspot post from 2018. I neglected to mention this earlier, but at least one person is asking. Unfortunately, people who reblog this post from earlier versions will not see this edit.)

The original creators of TMNT are Peter Laird and Kevin Eastman. Laird has always considered April o'Neil to be white other than considering possibly making her Asian in early notes; the confusion over April's race is solely due to Eastman.

In her earliest appearances, April o'Neil conveniently stands right next to known definitely-black character Baxter Stockman:

This April is as white as the Mousers and the lab walls and doesn't have curly hair. If anything she looks like Sigourney Weaver (Dutch, English, Scots-Irish, Scottish), right down to Ellen Ripley's outfit.

Since Alien came out in 1979 and Ellen Ripley is a massive influence on female lead characters even decades later, this resemblance might be intentional.

But Kevin Eastman, who has a habit of designing female characters based on the woman he is seeing at the time, redesigned April two issues or so later based (rather loosely) on his at-the-time girlfriend April Fisher (she has since passed away.)

April Fisher was, as a matter of fact, mixed-race.

Eastman later clarified that April Fisher was, of course, the source of April o'Neil's given name the entire time. (And I would like to point out that the surname of o'Neil doesn't preclude someone from being black.)

But being named after or inspired by a mixed-race person the creator knows does not mean the character is mixed-race, any more than the numerous My Little Ponies based on real people share those people's races (as opposed to being cartoon horse fairies or whatnot.)

April o'Neil specifically states that she got her hair done. That is to say, she got a perm.

Since black women's hair is already very curly, black women get perms to straighten their hair. April got hers to curl her hair - because she's not black, she's a white lady trying to look like a bootleg Paula Abdul (Syrian).

Or, quite frankly, any other 1980s pop star?

Because, y'see, now's a great time to point something out that Twitter & Tumblr seem to hope you'll forget:

The entire 1980s.

I'm pretty sure nobody who cares whether April o'Neil is black or not knows who Paula Abdul is, except maybe that she was a judge on American Idol. Paula herself might be a year or two late for April's redesign to reference her specifically, but April o'Neil looks like any random white woman from the 1980s. Because the Mirage comics were released in the 1980s. They take place in 1980s New York. And damn near every single white woman in the 1980s got a perm at some time or another.

I doubt these black April fanatics recognize half of them:

.....

Even the men got them!!

And eventually, around the time everybody else was over it, the exact same April o'Neil in the exact same continuity lost the perm:

Remember what Eastman said about April's "different looks"? Even in the same damn comic they can't draw her consistently. April here not only looks nothing like Paula Abdul April, but nothing like Ellen Ripley April either. Hell, she looks like a JoJo character.

And there are some panels were Paula Abdul April is shaded darker than in others, which you could take as April being black if you literally ignore the entire rest of the comic and pretend that's the only time she was ever drawn:

You know, like how people pretend Princess Daisy was "originally black" because she was sliiiightly darker in Mario Tennis than usualy, including ignoring that there are earlier illustrations where she is more pale?

A perm and a tan doesn't make you black. That'd be, y'know, blackface. Not like T&T actually knows what that means either, since they think a white person posting an image with a black person in it counts as it.

Don't you think the fact April looks like four different people in the same fucking comic should convince us that we can't deduce her race from interpreting the illustrations and instead, we should, I dunno, recognize that every single time April has appeared in color with Laird and Eastman's oversight, she's been clearly white?

As opposed to that one comic everybody likes to cite, which is a non-canon guest comic by Mark Bode that changes such details as the city it takes place in and April's job, which was originally published in black and white, whose black April was colored that way by another guest artist (Bill Fitts) and looks like a disco queen stereotype which I could've sworn T&T hated, and which was later corrected to a white April when republished:

We really shouldn't listen to uneducated narcissists who want to have their cake and eat it too, don't know who Cyndi Lauper is, and already had their conclusion ready before they looked at any of the evidence, blatantly misinforming us about the world's most inconsistent comic and pretending 98% of that comic and one of the most important decades in modern human culture just never fucking happened.

[thedepthsoffandomminds]

The last of us - Broken together 2

Joel miller and reader slow burn.

English y/n

Part one

Joel woke early, before the sun had risen.

"you can grab an hour if you like? I'm just gunna get everything ready." He said in a low voice.

"tell me more about her?" You settled your rifle on the ground and pulled your sleeping bag up to your shoulders.

"I don't know a while lot, Ellie Williams, fourteen years old. Grew up in the Boston QZ. Got bit. Didn't turn, Marlene gave her to me and Tess." He gave you the run down.

"Williams?" You looked over at her then back to him. "She knew Marlene? I mean, they were friends, not just people passing?" You ask.

Joel shrugged.

"no idea, she seemed pretty protective of her." He shrugged again.

You sighed and shifted down to rest your head on the log before closing your eyes. The last thing you heard before drifting off was his suggestion of coffee.

Ellie woke to the sound of a bubbling kettle on the burner. She rolled over still in her sleeping bag and opened the lid, brown liquid bubbled. Her face screwed up with disgust. Behind her Joel laughed.

"whow what the fuck is that?" She growled. Joel half turned to her.

"you don't like coffee?"

Ellie looked back at the kettle, flipped the lid back into place and dropped back to the ground head on her backpack. The thud woke you, startling you into the day. Joel saw.

"hey, it's okay it was just us." He said walking over to you and crouching beside you. You gave a short nod.

"I figured we'd eat on the road, I've made some sandwiches from Frank's bread. I used the ham, I figure it probably doesn't have a long shelf life." He explained as you slid out of your sleeping bag.

"ham's good, thank you." You didn't feel as lost in the sunlight. Sure both your companions had been asleep you allowed yourself to cry, to release all the emotions of losing your uncle's. The last of your family, now gone. Except Joel hadn't been asleep, his eyes had flicked to you the moment you sobbed but he was no good at that. He stayed quiet giving you time.

"come on, I've been looking at the map, it shouldn't be much longer." He assured her holding a hand out to help her stand. Ellie reluctantly rolled her sleeping bag up. You remind her to tie it to her pack.

"you never know when you need to be ready to go and leave everything behind." You said, doing the same to yours and Joel's.

"you get more like your uncle every time I see you." Joel joked. It wasn't an insult, but a compliment to you.

All three of you climbed into the front seat of the truck and began your day. Ellie had the map, as the pair discussed the route. She awkwardly asked about his brother, and he grumpily answered her. You'd only met him briefly a few years back, so you said nothing.

A few hours into the drive, Joel turned to look at you both.

"we got up early, you can sleep if you want."

"I'm not even tired." Ellie rebuked him only to fall asleep ten minutes later. You two felt sleep creeping up, car journeys had always done it to you. Somehow in your sleep you had slid down and sideways, dropping your head onto Joel's shoulder. He wasn't going to complain, not even with the ache of old age creeping in was he going to stop this feeling. For more than twenty years he had kept himself closed off to feelings. After outbreak day he had lifted those walls so high, not even Tess after fifteen years had broken them down. Yeah he loved her in his way, as a partner, or well he couldn't define it in his own mind. All he knew was that he didn't feel how she did, yet he'd spent a hell of a lot of time thinking about you. Knowing full well Bill would have shot him on sight if he'd even breathed in your direction. He settled into the drive, pretending to himself that life was normal, this was just a roadtrip to a holiday. Taking the kid to summer camp or some other simpler reason.

The sound of your light breathing in his ear was starting to make him sleepy to when he pulled through the abandoned cars stopping at the bridge. Moving his arm to put the truck in park woke you subsequently walking ellie.

"stay put." He ordered you both whilst getting out of the truck grabbing his rifle from the back. You watched, silent as he looked under the semi blocking the underpass. He turned back to you and you knew something was wrong. He got back in beside you and grabbed the map from Ellie.

"where are we?" She asked.

"Kansas city." He replied,

"how far back do we have to go to get around this?" She questioned. Joel looked up from the map, tension in every inch of his body. You climbed into the back seat and started strapping your weapons on as he backed up the truck.

"we'll be back on the road a minute tops." Was what you tuned back in to hear. He caught your eyes as he looked out the back window to reverse. Joel noted your frown and chose to ignore it.

Part three

[doomedandstoned]

Italian Duo LE SCIMMIE Raise Hell on ‘Adriatic Desert’

~Doomed & Stoned Debuts~

By Billy Goate

It's time to shake off those winter blues. Spring is blooming and the weather is slowly changing. You need some good tunes to go along with the good times. That's where a good stoner rock band comes in. Enter Italian duo LE SCIMMIE. Their name translates into English as "The Monkeys" and when you hear the way they move and groove, you understand why.

The duo phenomenon is something we documented a few years back, and at that time limited our focus to the Latin America scene. Duos of course, a global phenomenon, fueled certainly by the simplicity of the model, not to mention the success of The White Stripes and Black Cobra, whose live performances quell all doubts.

If you're wondering whether Le Scimmie can really bring the volume, you're about to bear witness to their explosive new LP, 'Adriatic Desert' (2023). The beast on its front cover and the band motto sum up this spin: "Guitar, drums, and vital energy."

Opening number "Wild Boar" tosses about between drums and a devilishly downtuned guitar with low-end umph. It revs up hot like a desert rocker and later goes slow-mo for an unexpected turn to doom metal. There was something mesmerizing about this one. I could see it being a great encore.

The album's title track comes at us like a dust storm, with several grindy doom motifs interchanging throughout the piece. A second guitar enters the picture and compliments this mosher with melody. As the song reaches its final minutes, a hypnotizing riff summons a wicked tarantella.

"Acid Lime" begins with a mingling of various stoner motifs dancing about in fiendish fashion. The guitar's pedal effects shine here, coming in at key moments to create a sense of the strange.

"Mammatus" takes us to the half-way mark, setting out on another frenetic trek. Like the great mammatus clouds of the Himalayas, the mood builds ominously and grows ever darker. The song stomps and grinds its way to a murky, doomy midsection, then rains down hail from on high.

"A Giant Summer" kicks off the B-side by strumming a cynical punk riff, totally sucking me into the song, and transforms this into a live fast, die hard stoner-punk-garage number.

If the last song got wild, what can we expect from "Hysteria"? Perhaps a riff that will drive you mad, or a rhythm that will entrance you. This one's got a certain Clouds Taste Satanic ring to it, with melodic guitar imaginatively soaring over the morass.

"2007" is the shortest song on the album, and it feels like a good one to shake out the jitters, giving off a surf punk spirit in the same musical neighborhood of LaGoon. Concluding the album is "Fluorescent Dinosaur." The band seems to conjure the creature with the swagger of guitarist Angelo Mirolli and the pop-pop of Marco D'Aulerio's drums.

Le Scimmie tells us:

'Adriatic Desert' was born in Mirolli's mind during intense walks along the shoreline of Abruzzo's Adriatic coast and took shape with D'Aulerio in long jam sessions in the rehearsal room to the sound of Big Muff and amplifiers pushed to the limit.

Oh, and did I mention that the album is entirely instrumental? You can jam out Le Scimmie's Adriatic Desert on Thursday, April 27th, when the records releases digitally and on compact disc via Frekete! Records (pre-order). Stick it on a playlist with Karama To Burn and BelzebonG. Here's a first listen for Doomed & Stoned readers.

Give ear...

Adriatic Desert by Le Scimmie

SOME BUZZ

Le Scimmie was born in 2007 in Vasto, in the province of Chieti (Abruzzo), from the guitarist Angelo "Xunah" Mirolli; in December of the same year they released their first self-produced EP, 'L'origine,' with which they started playing live. In 2008 and 2010 the duo reached the final stages of the Abruzzo selections of the nationally known festival Italia Wave, arriving first in the semifinals and two years later in the final. In 2010, the duo released their first official album, 'Dromomania' (self-released).

In September 2012, they left for their first European tour, playing together with bands of the caliber of Stoned Jesus and Samsara Blues Experiment, culminating in the date at the Robust Fest in Kiev; in the same year they participate in the Tube Cult Fest in Pescara, sharing the stage, among others, with Karma to Burn. Also in 2012 the band released the digital single "Habanero."

After a long break in 2016, Mirolli took over the project again and, with a new line-up and a third member on synths, released the album 'Colostrum' (Red Sound Records). In 2017 the band was invited by the Ukrainian label Robust Fellow to represent Italy in the compilation 'Electric Funeral Café.' The unreleased track is titled "Sic Transit Gloria Mundi." 2023 is the year of the third album 'Adriatic Desert' (Frekete! Records): a work that sees the return to the duo lineup. 'Adriatic Desert' is a record of impact; an energetic record. Stoner. In fact, 'Adriatic Stoner.'

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[depressed-avocado]

||SAKUATSU AND THE JAPANESE MEDIA||

have you all noticed how we have an abundance of sakuatsu fics, fanart and stans in the western media but very few and rare doujins served by the japanese side of the fandom?

even the sporadic content we see has a very different take on sakuatsu than we do..

now, take myself as a referance. i entered the fandom with a vengeance against all but suga, avoided sakuatsu and kagehina like it was the COVID epicenter itself but a year and a half later ended up reading one teeny fanfic on ao3 out of dire curiousity and ended up with sakuatsu as my adopted babies.

there was a lot of discussion on this ship on twt, tumblr and the like, but when i searched up for doujins to satisfy my horny hunger, i found none?

the very few and far between were actually AtsuSaku (top atsumu, still not much common with the english speaking world) and SakuOsa (poor atsumu 🤣) and featured sakusa as a very grumpy, tsundere, devil-may-care lover whom atsumu had to ask permission just to kiss. compare THAT to how the western fandom potrays him as the blunt jerk who is nefariously down bad for atsumu, but is still kinda loveable and chaotic in his own steed.

the thing is, sakuatsu is a rare ship. there are hardly 5 panels on interaction for them in the manga, and still quite less info on sakusa available, which gives the people the opportunity to mould him into any shape they want. atsumu has more chemistry with hinata, aran, kita, suna, hell you'd even find more miyacest content in japan than sakuatsu. it all started out as a crack ship, something similar to matsuhana, and exploded exponentially in a span of few weeks like it was set on fire. honestly, covid-19 would be jealous.

in the year 2020, the world recieved so many beautiful fanfics, maybe some of the best in the fandom. the same teenagers once raving after kagehina and iwaoi were now adults and have had enough of bubbly, tooth rotting fluff and circumstancal angst.

iwaoi's biggest potential for angst is them seperating for college, same as bokuaka and kuroken. maybe an external factor causing a rift in the couple. very basic.

they wanted something dynamic, something real, something which allows your creativity to leap out the box and sprint several kilometres ahead.

the salient answer was sakuatsu.

only in sakuatsu, the angst potential come from the characters themselves. sakusa and atsumu are insufferable, totally unlikeable people (though i have met a lot of people like atsumu and they get on with their day just fine). they have no chill, no qualms, no redeeming feature other than volleyball and their looks and maybe this could work out?

two jerks, aint afraid to talk shit, bringing out the best (or worst?) in each other. maybe they could find love afterall? huh.

what's this? a chance for ao3 authors to expand their creative writing skills to new horizons and take artistic liberties indulgently but still have a locus to ground themselves to so that they don't go all hocus-focus?

you bet they'd take this chance.

famous fics like 'a liar's truth', 'hand study', 'burden of blame' were released and it was the explosive and beautifully belligerent start of a ship no one saw coming. riding on the highs and lows of a relationship, depicting exactly how toxic yet fulfilling realistic dating can be, its upto you how you'd end up. these fics depicted the shimmering tension, the passionate abhor and the disastrous clashes.

there was no way a huge chunk of japanese fans, enough to catalyse its popularity, would be able to reach these fics and fanarts, which were usually just characteristics fleshed out in the author's mind. ooc, if you will.

sakuatsu is literally whatever you want it to be. a murder mystery or a romcom, you decide. it is ever changing, ephemeral, dangerous. you need to keep up with every step to find its beauty.

its a pity that the japanese fandom wasn't able to catch onto this sakuatsu fever and create some god-tier content like they usually do with other notorious ships like kageoi or kitaatsu.

also, osaatsu/atsuosa, kitaatsu and atsuhina are already selling there a lot (which makes a lot of sense in hindsight than this sakuatsu, no offence) and view atsumu as a TOP.

also, also the japanese part of the fandom have no qualms with shipping komosaku and ushisaku and do it graciously, so well both characters are satisifed fully with the japanese seperately as far as they are concerned.

well, if the movies come out, there is a good chance that the sakuatsu car ride would be just around the corner again and maybe this time, the japanese fandom can hop on a ride? and show atsumu riding on sakusa too pls i need to see thier bful art ahaha

[rcksmith]

You — Five Hargreeves

Request: “Could I get 37 and 63 from the smut prompts with older Five, if you are comfortable, if not then understandable”

Smut Prompts:

37. “I’m so sick of your voice. Why don’t you come over here and put your mouth to better use?”

63. “Could he make you feel as good as i do?”

A/ N: We not tolerate any pedophilia here!!

I write about Five with their 20s. I write the same about the characters of Harry Potter.

I hope it got close to what you wanted. ❤️

Guys, I really understand who doesn't feel comfortable reading or writing Five's smut. But I always say that I only write with him (any genre: romance, fluff or angst) with the notion that Five is 20 years old here. All of my fanfics mention swearing or sex, even if it is a memory or something shallow, but as I am writing with Five as an adult, it is consistent that the fic has aspects of an adult life.

English is not my first language, so I so sorry if have a mistake.

Requests are open. Love you ❤️

Couple: Five Hargreeves / Fem! Reader.

Warnings: Smut, bad words.

— — — — —

You had dated some guys before, because no one turned 22 without getting hurt a little for love, but no relationship proved as intense (and difficult) as dating Five Hargreeves. If you could describe the 1 year that you were together, you would use only two words: sex and coldness.

Sex because Five had an appetite you've never seen in your life and you loved it. It was strong, intense, hot. He always seemed to want to discount your internal problems by fucking you hard, and you couldn't deny that his raw footprints drove you crazy.

And coldness because Five Hargreeves, as well as being hot in sex, was the north pole in romance. He was dry, very reserved, without any appreciation for physical touch or cutest demonstrations. He did not like to talk to much or participate in frivolous conversations.

He always had a sarcastic or rude argument for his comments about thinking that the two of you should act more like a couple and not like nymphomaniacs. And as time went by, you got tired of feeling that you didn't have a partner but a sex disk.

That's when you finished it all. It ended because you liked affection and love and not just fucking. It ended because you thought you deserved more and you didn't want to build a life with someone so cold.

That was the purpose of a relationship, wasn't it? Wanting to build a future with someone. And when you didn't see yourself building a future with Five anymore, you just finished. It was difficult, obviously. It shattered your heart, because in the end you still loved him, but it hurt more to know that there was no way to fix it.

And that's why you found yourself here, in a crowded nightclub, at 2 am, dancing with your friends and kissing any man just to try to forget Five. It had been three months since you two broke up, and staying in your room crying and eating chocolate didn't seem to be helping you get over it. So when your friends asked you out, you went. You went because you wanted to get drunk, kiss some cat guy and forget that your heart was in pieces.

And that was why you were kissing that guy, squeezing the back of his neck while his hands went down around you waist and squeezed your ass. He didn't have the intensity and electricity of Five, but he was a handsome, so... it would have to do.

As soon as you separated from him and started dancing with your friends again, enjoying the deafening music and what the drink did to your head and body, you felt more numb from the pain.

“I need another drink.” You warned one of your friends, almost screaming to try to make yourself heard with all that deafening music.

As soon as she nodded and you started walking among all those huddled bodies, you arrived at the counter a few seconds later, sitting in the only vacant seat.

���Vodka, pure.” You didn't want anything sweet, too soft. You wanted something rough, strong, that would mess with your system.

You needed something stronger than the pain you were feeling.

After turning the first shot, swallowing and closing your eyes for a second, trying to hold the grimace and the strong taste, you were going to ask for another when a voice came up behind you:

“Nothing more for her, thanks.”

You froze. Your heart failed and then shot to alarming levels. You knew that voice, you knew it better than your own. Suddenly, whether by drinking or by the presence behind you, your body started to get hot, shaky and wobbly. If you tried to get up now, you would surely fall.

That bastard wouldn't dare ...

“Hello, stranger.”

Yes, he would dare.

You turned to Five, amazed. Suddenly, you have never felt so sober in life, rigid, with heightened senses. And that was what you were talking about too. Whenever Five was involved, you became someone you didn't like. You were much more attentive to any intonation or half words, searching for hidden meanings for him sentences.

You hated that. You hated having to look for clues when in fact the person should say with word what he felt. You hated having to analyze syllable by syllable to know the true feelings. When all a dating should bring was honesty, calm, peace and complicity.

“What are you doing here?!” You were not smooth, because any situation involving Five was already exasperating for you.

“Is it forbidden to go to a nightclub?” The same condescending tone, the hands in the pockets, the smug look, the smirk.

Five was beautiful as sin, it was the definition of superb, but outer beauty was not you its weakness. So, as much as he looked like a God under those flashing lights, you just rolled your eyes.

“As far as I can remember, you called places like ‘Waste of time’ or ‘Ridiculous places Klaus goes to’ or, ‘Am I better than these places’ ” You were acidic, turning back to the front and asking the waiter for a shot again.

Five wouldn't tell you how much to drink.

“How skittish are we?” But turning forward was a bad idea, because Five leaned in behind you, breathing in your ear, in your neck.

You held a gasp, pressing your thighs together and trying to focus on anything other than the intense presence behind you.

“You are so skittish” then the voice continued under your skin, and you felt some fingers from it take your hair off your neck. “You used to be so obedient...”

So you were transported to the millions of memories of the times he fucked you. The millions of times he made you scream and obey his every command. Yes, you were a good girl for Five. And that sucked.

“Five.” Your voice was a warning, and when the waiter served your shot, you turned without thinking twice or without Five daring to intrude. “Go away”

You got up from the chair, trying to dodge his touch. Because you knew that if he touched you, you would give in, and if you gave in, you would end up in his bed, and if you did, your heart would be even more broken the next day.

Five frowned, questioning, his gaze fixed on you. Then all that intense energy was replaced by an angry wave.

“Is it because of him?”

His?

Now you frowned, but in a confused expression and you were beginning to wonder if Five had gone mad.

“Who…”

“Don't be innocent, I saw you with him today, just now. Rubbing on him like... like... ”

So Five was close to you again. The height of him making you lift the chin to look at him, the smell of man invading your nose... God, his are a fucking handsome and...

Focus!

"Whose are you talking about?" Five was still looking at you angrily and now with a hint of irony.

And that's when you realized who he was talking about. The guy you just kissed.

“For God's sake, Five!” You answered, incredulous. “It’s not ‘how are you, Y / N?’ Or ‘how have you been, Y/N?’ No, this is always your possessiveness of not losing your toy to someone else! But you know, big boy, your train left a long time ago.” You looked at him as if Five were your biggest enemy, and turned your back on him.

You needed to get away, needed to keep as much distance between you as possible. You already felt the grip in your throat, your eyes burning. God, this guy had an overwhelming power over you. You still love him, much, holy fuck!

Then you crossed the nightclub again, past the sea of ​​dancing bodies, hoping that, luckily, Five would lose sight of you in the crowd. But you no longer needed songs, dances or drinks, your mind was pounding so much that you just thought about being alone, at least for a second.

You continued to advance between the bodies, and when you reached the other end of the club, now far enough from the bar, you entered the ladies' room. The deafening sound of the music was drowned out when you closed the door, and only then did you manage to release the breath you were holding.

You was put both hands on the sink, taking a moment with your own thoughts before looking ahead and seeing your reflection. You weren't as bad as you felt, some mascara had out. The mirror said you should go home, but you didn't know if you could face those people outside with the possibility of seeing Five any second.

Lowering your head once more to turn on the tap and wet your hands to rub the back of your neck, you sighed deeply when the sensation of the cold water hit your hot skin. But all the sense of relief was gone when you looked in the mirror again and saw Five.

You gave a startled scream, turning to him in a burst and resting your hands on the sink behind you.

“What the fuck, Five!” Your heart was still pounding, but you were beginning to suspect it was because of his little smile.

Five was strode toward you, and he didn't stop until your body was trapped between his and the sink. It was hot. Five seethed like hell and smelled of sin, and you began to feel the pulse of it. It was unbearable how much power he had over you. But the truth was that you would always be a moldable dough in the hands of Five. Worse, he knew it.

He knew because you could see it in the way he looked at you, the way his hands went up from his your thigh to his neck, the way he leaned into your ear and murmured:

“You can't run from me, cute.”

And if you were a molding dough before, now you were clay on his fingers. You closed your eyes, taking a deep breath through and pressing your fingers into the sink behind you.

“You were never a good liar.” He continued, the velvet voice from hell seducing you "I can feel your excitement from here."

Now you were on fire. Your core pulsed for him, your body burned and the desire became so strong that you felt like crying.

“Five...” You wanted to tell him to walk away, to leave. But your body begged you to willingly accept what he was giving you. The truth was, you wanted more.

“My good girl” now his thin, white fingers were on your neck, running the tips over your heaving skin.

Five Hargreeves was the wrong way and you were going willingly. You wanted to leave, but your whole body was begging you to let him touch you some more. Just a little more…

“Look at you…” Five's voice was still hoarse and seductive, his right hand wandered from your neck to the side of your body, outlining all your curves as if it were a goddamn treasure “I barely touched you and you're already excited.”

You wanted to say that it was ridiculous, that he was very arrogant. But you would only dig your own grave, because the truth was that you were excited. Much. And lying to a fucking genius was almost always impossible.

"Could he make you feel as good as i do?" If he hadn't been a presumptuous arrogant before, now he was.

His hand sank between your legs, and you groaned loudly when you felt the cold finger touch the core of your burning panties. You tilted your head back, leaning against the mirror as you closed your eyes in a silent groan.

“I bet you don't” now kisses landed on the skin of your exposed neck, heading towards the neckline “But I want to hear you say it.”

You could not. Because his fingers were playing with you and his mouth was all over the pulp of your breasts. It was too much, too much stimulus for your poor body that would be satisfied with just one kiss.

That's when the thought of the kiss brought you back to Earth orbit. Kisses have always been very intimate and romantic, and you remember that Five almost never kissed you much. It hurt you. It hurt because it looked like you were good enough for him to fuck you, but not good enough for him to think about being more loving and fighting for your relationship.

“Five…” Five lifted the mouth of your breasts, looking at you intently. “ I can't.”

"Why not? We had fun a loot before. ”

“Because this... this is not healthy. We will regret it tomorrow. ”

Five frowned, his hand motionless between your legs.

“Is there someone else?” His voice was low.

“Oh my God, no!” It was absurd how he only cared about that “You don't care about me! Only if someone is fucking me! ”

“God, Y / N!” Five was amazed “ What do you think I'm doing here?!"

You looked at Five as if him were crazy, and looked down at the position of their bodies and looked back at him, signaling very well what was happening.

Five laughed, perplexed, and took his hands off you immediately. He took a few steps back, the shadow of bitter laughter still bordering his mouth.

“Do you think I came here just to eat you?” Five's vocabulary could always be very dirty when he wanted to, and that secretly always turned you on. “Holy God, Y / N!”

“You think this is what ?!”

Then he came to you. And long hands held your face with intensity. There was despair in that touch, passion... and a very overwhelming desire.

“I want you. Ardently.” His voice was not soft “I came here to meet you and try to talk, because I want you back so much. Because I love you. But when I saw you in that little dress... kissing another one... Ah, Y / N” Now he stoked you with the words, each syllable beating against your lips “ I wanted to fuck you in front of everyone for them to see to whom that bitch belongs.”

You sighed loudly. You didn't want to, but it was involuntary. You should want more. You should want him to apologize out about the things he did, ask you back. But the truth was, the desire rumbled through your veins and you didn't want to wait any longer. For now, that would do.

You kissed him. With intensity, despair and savagery. Five reciprocated like a hungry animal and put his hands on your thigh, propelling you up and sitting you in the sink. You were hungry animals that used each other as food.

You thought a sex of reconciliation would be loving and intense. But Five always showed you that sex with him would always be rude. He was didn't make love to you, he fucked you, hard.

Five clutched your body with all his fingers, marking yoyr skin with purple ten digits. He pulled you close as if he could merge with you, and the panties you wore were brutally torn when he went to take them off.

When Five touched you, where you wanted it most, and pushed two fingers brutally into you, you screamed loudly and whined afterwards like a kitten.

"Oh, I will destroy you.” It was not a promise, it was a warning, a reminder of what he would do to you seconds later.

“Five!” You clasped your hands on his shoulders, shifting your waist around he fingers “please... please...!”

“Please what?!” Now he was rough, the fingers coming in and out of you aggressively, hitting your aching walls “Please, Five, fuck me? Or, please, Five, make me come?”

You groaned loudly, the words matching his aggressive rhythm.

“Fuck me! Fuck me, now! ” You stirred up more “Fuck me hard, Five.”

Suddenly, his other hand clung to your face, pulling you by the chin to look at him.

“Command, no! Begging, yes, it's cute, now commanding is unacceptable!” It was a clear, fierce warning. And when you whimpered and agreed to submit, Five tightened your jaw “I’m so sick of your voice. Why don’t you come over here and put your mouth to better use?”

Then him hand that was on your chin went to the nape of your neck, holding your hair tightly and bringing you closer. He removed his fingers from you, and come close at your mouth. You obediently opened it and took his two fingers. He didn't have to tell you to start sucking, running your tongue over all the mess you had made on his fingers.

“My dear good girl.”

His approval was followed by a friendly pat on your face, removing his hand from the back of your neck and unfastening his own belt. Five didn’t give you time to think before entering you, sinking deep into your core.

You screamed, pressing his fingers to your mouth and closing your eyes with intensity. But Five didn't give you time to breathe, his rhythm was constant, raw, arrogant, he was pushing hard inside you and you couldn't help but let out loud moans.

Five used the hand that was not in your mouth to grab your left thigh, releasing a loud, cracking slap when you squeezed it inside. You tried to keep sucking his fingers, but the intensity he put in you was so strong that your head was spinning.

“Do you want to come, little girl? Do you want to come for me?” He withdrew his fingers from your mouth, dissatisfied.

"Yea! Yes, please!"

Now you were begging. Begged in a pure and submissive way, and Five loved it. His pace increased, the thrusts became strong and steady, and his limb beat so deeply that you lost your breath. You were close, so close. felt herself being pushed into a giant, endless chasm, held by a thread that would soon break.

“Come to me, little bitch!” And that was cutting the wire.

You came. Intensely. You squeezed him inside as if your life depended on it and was rewarded with the hot, strong liquid filling you to the brim. You two were both panting, sweaty and satisfied. And you whimpered when his member was gone and the cum dripped from its pulsing core.

Five stared at the scene, mesmerized, letting out a loud sigh of satisfaction and kiss you again, now soft and lovin

"Welcome back." and you laughed, pushing his shoulder at the stupid joke.

[abundanceofnots]

a little (just under 2k) playground scene with Lip and Ian as dads, as per @pink--and--white's request. i apologize to all actual parents in advance.

“How the fuck did we get here?” Lip asks through a huff of incredulous laughter.

Ian shades his eyes from the sun, turning to his older brother with a look of mock concern. “Your memory that bad already, old man? We drove here.”

It earns him a stinging smack on his thigh.

“Asshole,” Lip retorts back. “You know what I mean.”

Ian’s eyes flit back to the scene before them. “Yeah, I do,” he confirms a beat later, his voice more earnest this time.

This, by far, isn’t a new feeling. Lip’s had the exact same thought pass through his mind countless times in recent years, always in a momentary flash of warmth that filled up his whole chest. It happens all the more often now over the most mundane shit, though.

The first time was, probably, when Freddie was born. Then Ian got married, and Al came along, and Liam got to a good school—and after that followed every other quiet (not literally) evening when the whole family gathered up in the kitchen.

In those instants, Lip would stall himself for just a second, getting lost in the overwhelming sounds and visuals, and think, what the fuck.

He’s getting soft. That’s it, most likely. He’s getting soft and sentimental, going on with his extremely unexceptional life, wondering how in the hell did a piece of shit like himself get so lucky, and slowly becomes someone he’d gladly punch in the face not too long ago.

It hits him hard again, this strange sense of pride and wonder, as he sits next to his baby brother on a bench overlooking a kids’ playground.

This one’s the real deal. Everything here is child-proof and clean, with no syringe or dogshit in sight. Frank or some random homeless guy aren’t lying in a drunken coma by the swing sets. There’s not even one bullet hole in the slide. And maybe it’s not so hard to admit that this is actually pretty nice. That this is them now.

Still, the whole thing is, without a doubt, totally ridiculous. Here they are, Lip and Ian—the college dropout and the ex-con, the true sons of the South Side—sneakily munching on their kids’ packed afternoon snacks.

“Dumb luck, I guess,” Ian answers Lip’s question after some musing and takes a sip from Toe’s pink-colored juice box.

Lip hmms before he bites into a baby carrot. “For us, or them?”

“For us. Definitely.”

They’re just two regular dads who carry around lunchboxes and always have a wet wipe or a pack of tissues at hand, ready to blow noses and wipe off residue chocolate from chins and hands. There aren’t enough words in the English language that would describe how incredibly ridiculous this is, because once upon a time, not too long ago, still, Ian wore a jumpsuit with Dav on the nametag and believed this was it for him, and Lip thought the only way to get through life was by drinking himself through the ordeal.

How the fuck did they get here?

“Freddie! Hey, Freddie!” Lip calls out to his oldest, who hangs upside down from the monkey bars, effectively ignoring him. “Fred!” he tries again with an annoyed sigh, and the boy finally remembers how his ears work. “Can you help your cousin on the slide?”

“Okay!”

With a swift motion, Freddie pulls himself up again to grab hold of a bar, unhooking his knees in the process, and jumps down into the sand with practiced ease. He then immediately gets into a run, coming behind the red-headed girl in black overalls who’s been trying to climb the gentle ramp on her own.

“What was that about?” Ian inquires amusedly.

“Early puberty, I think. He doesn’t want us to call him Freddie anymore. It’s Fred. No Fredster, no Fredtastic, definitely no Fredosaurus. Just Fred. Apparently, I went to bed, and my son turned into a middle-aged man overnight.”

“Oof. That’s rough.”

“Yeah. The next thing I know, he’s gonna get a neck tattoo and his first STI. Al, buddy!” His younger son Alvin, at least, seems to have no trouble with hearing. “You need help? Want me to push you?”

“No, I’m good!” the blond kid shouts back from the swing, and to prove his point, he pushes himself harder off the ground to gain momentum.

Lip scratches his forehead. “They don’t need me anymore,” he comments darkly. “I am officially a bother.”

“You’ve always been a bother,” Ian notes before he stuffs his mouth full of grapes. “Come on, Lip. Freddie’s eight. He’s not exactly packing his bags to leave home. He’s still very much a daddy’s boy.”

“I don’t know, man. When I remember what I was already doing when I was his age….”

“Yeah, but that’s different. They’re not like us. They don’t need to be, and that’s a good thing.”

Ian’s right, but the concept of normal as something desirable, something he doesn’t necessarily need to rebel against, is something Lip may never fully come to grasps with. And neither does Ian, even if he says otherwise.

“We might be getting a dog,” Lip says after a while, pausing before he sinks his teeth into a cheese stick.

“No way!” Ian smirks at him. “Look at you, perfect American family and shit.”

Lip snorts at that. He and Tami are pretty damn far from perfect. “You not thinking about getting a pet? A friendly rottweiler for Mickey, perhaps?”

“No. First, I gotta talk him into having another kid.”

That takes Lip by surprise. He knows Ian absolutely adores his little girl, his mini ginger twin that everyone got to call Toe, short for Tomato, but he also knows the whole story behind how she came to be.

“Oh, yeah? You’d like another?”

“Yeah,” Ian admits, and as his eyes drop to his lap where his fingers fiddle with a paper straw, Lip realizes he sounds ashamed about it.

“Not as easy as poking holes in condoms with you guys, huh?” he jokes to release the sudden tension.

“Hah. No.”

“You told Mickey yet?”

Meeting his brother’s eyes again, Ian gives a noncommittal shrug. “I hinted.”

From experience, Lip knows that hinting in Ian’s case almost exclusively means Mickey is fully aware of his intentions and just chooses to ignore them before Ian confronts him head-on.

“Hopefully, you’ll have another girl,” he tells Ian after a quiet moment filled with children’s high-pitched screams and the steady screeching of a swing set. “It’s a lot more physical with boys. These two are already fighting like we used to.”

“Doesn’t really matter when you’re raising a Milkovich,” Ian remarks before yelling: “Hey, Toe? You wanna have a sip of your juice for me?”

The girl waves at them eagerly as she slides down the bendy chute. Getting to a run right as her feet touch the ground, she comes to a jolty halt in front of them, taking a good, hard look at the juice box as if only now realizing what’s expected of her.

“No, thank you,” Toe then peeps and skips off again.

“Polite,” Lip appraises.

Ian gives a low chuckle. “Fuckin’ weird, huh?”

“With Mickey as her dad? A little.”

They watch the kids play for a few minutes. Ian offers to exchange a cheese stick for three grapes, and Lip negotiates it up to five before agreeing.

“You think he’d be against it? Having another kid?” he asks Ian mid-chew.

“I mean, I wouldn’t blame him, after all the shit with Terry. Maybe with a second kid, he’d think there’d be twice the damage he could do. Dunno,” Ian surmises uncertainly. “I know how hard it was for him to even want a kid, and I get why he was scared. Don’t get me wrong, I’m shitting myself every day when I think of the ways I could fuck this up. But he’s a great dad. You saw him with Toe. She’s obsessed with him. The way she laughs at everything he says makes you think he invented comedy or something.”

Lip’s aware that their conversation turned sort of serious once again, but he can’t help not breaking into a smile. “Sounds like you’re kinda jealous of your husband there, Ian.”

“Oh, I hate his guts,” his brother confirms, only partially kidding. “I’m a fun dad, too, you know.” As if on cue, a figure coming their way catches his attention, and Ian nods to where his daughter’s playing, telling Lip: “Okay, watch this.”

Mickey gestures at Freddie with a finger to his lips, coming around the slide just in time to catch his daughter in his arms with a victorious roar.

“Daddy!” Toe announces the good news to everyone around with a loud squeal.

Ian gives his brother a pointed look.

“Fuck, man,” Lip huffs with mock seriousness. “You tellin’ me she loves her dad? What a nightmare.”

“Yo, lunch ladies.” Mickey suddenly approaches them with Toe at his hip. “How ’bout less chit-chatting and more kid-watching? Think I’d remember if I left my kid with a giant fuckin’ bruise on her forehead this morning.”

“Yeah. She’s had a bit of a scuffle with Alvin earlier,” Ian says, reaching out to soothingly rub Toe’s calf as if said scuffle and the tears it brought weren’t already long forgotten.

“The hell’s he doin’ fightin’ someone half his size?!”

“She started it!” Lip counters weakly.

“Okay.” Mickey’s mouth hangs open for a minute before he finds his figurative footing again. “I guess she had her reasons for that. And you should teach your kids to not fight dirty.”

“I go play now,” Toe informs him then, putting a stop to his rant and his bad mood in one go.

“Yeah! You do that!” Mickey replies as he puts her down, matching her level of enthusiasm. She heads for the extensive pirate-ship-like construction this time, watchful cousin Freddie already on her heels, and Mickey drops heavily next to his husband, letting out a prolonged groan into his hands.

“Tough day?” Ian asks needlessly.

“Igor’s a fuckin’ idiot.”

“Told you he was.”

“And I agree, so drop it, a’ight? Hey, by the way.”

“Hey,” Ian echoes before they exchange a quick kiss.

Mickey notices the juice in his hands then and perks up. “That raspberry?” he checks after he’s already snagged the box for himself, taking loud slurps from it to get every last drop. He finishes off with a belch. “Fuckin’ love raspberry.”

Lip finds that anything he’d say at that moment would only spoil the natural fucking beauty of it, so he just appreciates with a private snicker.

“Daddy! Daddy!” Toe yells from the top of one of the pirate ship’s smaller slides. “Come play!”

Mickey pats at Ian’s thigh. “That’s on you, man. I’m beat.”

Putting his fun-dad face on, Ian heaves himself up without a complaint. “Hey, jellybean! Do you think your dad can fit on the slide, too?”

Toe shakes her head vehemently, giggling as she watches Ian jog toward her. “No, daddy! No! No!”

“What, you don’t think I can?” Ian asks again, halfway through his climb up on the board. “Well, take off your socks now because they might get blown off! I’mma fit!”

“Daddy!” Toe howls with laughter as he bumps his head on one of the low railings.

Beside Lip, Mickey imitates the reaction, both his hand and the phone he’s holding with it to record a video visibly shaking. When he notices Lip staring, his grin falters a little.

“These two jokers,” Mickey complains after he ends the recording. “She always laughs at everything he does like he invented comedy or some shit.”

Lip answers with a knowing smile, his chest feeling full of warmth.

Seriously, how the fuck did they get here?

[shadyteacup]

May I ask a scenario with ADA dazai who falls for an agency member and she's really strong both mentally and physically and is loved by everyone in the agency? She also used to be a soldier in that war so she has seen plenty of things and she's not afraid of dark thing etc... Hope I wasn't so demanding have a nice day (forgive me for my English)

Heyyyy :>

This was such a good ask, I went all out and wrote a bit too much. So I'll be posting it as two parts. :)

And don't worry, love, you're English is immaculate!

Do lemme know if you like this... I'll probably be posting part two tmrw or in some hours... I just need to do one final touch up :D

Partners (part 1)

Dazai x gn! Reader

Tw: Lots of action and fighting, a little blood, implied death.

If u can handle bsd fight scenes, then u can read this... dw, it's not gory or too violent..

"I have your back, go!", you say as you shoot at the enemy hiding behind the car.

"Got it!", Dazai says, as he jogs to the adjacent safe place.

You two were assigned a job, one that you had initially thought was a simple task: Find the missing girl.

You hadn't expected any foul play. Apparently, the girl in pursuit wasn't kidnapped. She had run away from her home. She had a record of disappearing out of the blue, so you had figured she was just taking some time away from her family, like she usually does. The parents approached the ada when the police were unable to find her. So you guys concluded that she was kidnapped. There had been no calls for any ransom, so you chalked up the possibility of her kidnapper being a sex offender, a sadist, or a cult member. You knew you had to act quick before he hurt her. You and Dazai had worked together to collect all the breadcrumbs, and had triangulated the location of a criminal who had just gotten out of prison. He had served 6 years for various sexual assaults and rapes. You had concluded that this must be his doing. It was too much of a coincidence for a girl to get kidnapped just one week after a criminal had been released.

You both had walked right into the enemie's trap.

The man, Ito Sōta, held the girl at gun point at the center of an abandoned warehouse. The warehouse belonged to a small criminal group. He must have joined this group after being released.

The group, a small organization in need of monetary support, wanted to impress the mafia. They had arranged for this ploy to defeat a few members of the ada and hopefully get in the mafia's goodbooks.

They had used Ito's criminal record to lure the ada into the warehouse, and rain fire upon them, hoping to defeat them.

"That's the most logical explanation", Dazai had said, when you two had been ambushed by ten or so men and their many bullets.

Dazai hid behind a cargo container.

"We have to move fast. I manged to neutralize them, but I'm pretty sure there are more on the way, and some more protecting Ito.", you say, leaning against the box.

Dazai hummed.

"So, what's the plan?"

He thought for a second, then said,

"You are good at combat, so why don't you take them on, and clear a path for me.."

" I see.. I distract while you sneak an attack on Ito."

"Exactly."

You change the magazine of your glock,inserting a fresh one.

"Sounds good."

At your count, you began running towards the guards ahead. You had a shielding ability, allowing you to shield yourself from bullets, fire explosions, and prevent it from touching you. Ofcourse, you couldn't control heat, so if you were to be near an explosion, while the fire wouldn't burn your skin, the heat radiating from it would definitely hurt you.

Your ability only worked when you activated it. It wasn't always activated, and would take quite a lot of your energy if you kept it on at all times.

A few men had noticed you, and had started shooting you. The bullets bounced off your shield, falling to the ground. You continued charging towards the center, aiming at the men that were in Dazai's path. Taking them down was easy enough; they were just meat and bones that could shoot, and desperately lacked a brain. If bullets don't work, shouldn't they try hand to hand combat? But no. These idiots were so hopelessly dumb, that they kept shooting you, standing tall and proud, and presenting themselves as easy targets for your bullets.

'Well, it works for me... so keep being stupid, guys!' You thought as you shot a majority of them down.

Dazai hid behind the containers, jogging over to the center. He handled a few men that were in his way, as you cleared almost all of them for him.

Soon enough, you approached a man and two women, clad in suits, that charged at you with an assortment of weapons. They dodged your bullets, and tried to attack you.

'These guys are smart'

The first bulky guy swung his dagger at you. You dodged; the knife brushing past your cheek in the process. It was OK, you were a master in martial arts, afterall. Taking them down wouldn't be so difficult.

You grabbed his arm, jumping off the ground and twisting your torso midway to land behind him. His arm was now twisted, and you swiped at his legs, resulting in him falling to the ground. You swiped the dagger from his palm, stabbing him in the knees and his dominant arm. The spots you had targeted were sensitive points, that paralyzed his limbs.

Moving on to the woman charging at you with a club, you threw the dagger at her. She twisted to dodge it. The dagger plunged in her shoulder. She cried out in pain. You had tricked her by throwing your own dagger a split second later, aiming in the direction of her reflex duck.

The other woman had used her partners as a distraction to sneak up behind you. She held a thick metal chain, that she wound around your neck, choking you. You tried prying it off, but she was too powerful. So you slammed back into her, your head hitting her nose, pushing her back and effectively loosening her grip on the chain. Grabbing the front, you slipped your fingers between the chain and your neck, crating some space to breathe. You then yanked it forward, bruising your neck in the process. Slipping out from the chain, you wound it on your palm, halving it. You used it as a whip on the woman, drawing blood from her nose. She dodged your next swing, punching you in the gut. She was really strong, that's for sure. You spit out blood from the impact. You were about to stab her when a bullet hit her head.

"Thanks.", you say to Dazai, who had shot her from his position; very close to Ito.

He nodded, continuing his journey towards the girl.

Fighting your way through, you finally reached Ito. You stood right opposite him.

"Well done! You successfully defeated fifty of my men!"

He said, pressing the gun against the girl's temple. He wanted to play a game with you. He wanted to make you choose whom he should kill; the girl, or you.

"But, alas, you won't be able to save her."

Ito felt a cool sensation on his head, and heard a click of a gun right behind him.

You smirked.

"You sure about that?"

He grit his teeth, raising his arms in defeat.

Dazai pushed him on the ground, handcuffing him.

"It was quite a smart plan. It wasn't elaborate, though. Such a pitiful organization you have. No wonder you're desperate for the Mafia's attention."

Dazai said.

"Did you really believe you could trick the armed detective agency?"

He glared down at the man, his face adorning a menacing look.

"If the mafia hears about this, you will be dead before you can even think of the word 'escape'. Whoever breaks the peace between the Mafia and the A.D.A, will have hell to pay."

You scoffed.

"If you had half a brain, you would know to never mess with the two organizations. Did you really think you could use us?" You laughed.

"How naive!"

You heard a whimper.

You looked at the girl, noticing her fearful expression. You deactivated your ability, now that the job was done. The girl whimpered again, but it sounded abnormal. It sounded artificial. Something didn't feel right.

"Hey, it's alright now. You're safe."

You say to the girl. She looks at you with wide eyes.

"It's all under control. We're here to take you back home. This guy can't hurt you anymore."

You move closer to her, crouching down to her level.

"Tell me. Did he hurt you?"

You place a hand on her shoulder, trying to comfort her.

She stared at you for a second, then grinned. All the fear had vanished from her eyes. They now held a malicious gleam.

"You fell right in!"

She cackled.

"Right in the rabbit hole!"

She giggled, snapping her fingers.

All you heard was a sharp sound. A ringing in your ears. And a scream. Was that Dazai? Or was it you? Who knows.

You look down to your torso, and notice a dark red stain on your shirt.

Suddenly, you felt it. The pain was overwhelming. You had been shot before; you were a part of a war, afterall. But it was always in the shoulder, or limbs. This was your first time getting hit on the torso. You had probably broken a rib or two. You could feel your lungs being filled with something. It felt heavy.

Blood? Yeah probably. You couldn't think straight. You remember feeling tired. You didn't even register your knees giving away, or the pair of strong arms that caught you right before you fell.

[steve0discusses]

S5 Ep 15 Pt 2: Don’t Trust Anyone Who Wears a Floor Length Robe Over Their Casuals in Yugioh

Hey, it’s my birthday, so I’m gonna release this early because the rest of today I just have to work like an adult and that’s no fun.

In the first half of this episode we dunked the worlds smallest plane into a lake and so this second half of the episode involved the kids running as far away from their only responsible adults as they could.

Which like...took whole of less than a second for them to peace out and enter mortal danger.

...I’ve never been in a jungle in India but...I have seen the Jungle book many times...and there’s like tigers and stuff in there, right? and tons of monkeys that are hella mean? And freakin snakes? They sing jazz and scat? That’s some terrifying stuff.

Like these city kids have to learn at some point to fear the woods. But they just freakin don’t. And strangely, the most dangerous thing in these woods isn’t even a snake or something, but a human man just being as suspicious as possible lying prone on the ground.

(read more under the cut)

The card cultist happens to have a British accent, because this voice acting team freakin loves to pull out their British accents. It’s not as lowbrow as Valon, but it’s not as...well whatever Bakura is supposed to be. He’s a lot more tame than Bakura’s, but still very British.

I don’t know if this is because British English tends to be taught instead of American sounding English in many parts of India, but, most likely they just wanted to do an accent. And like...he’s an archeologist...and so the stereotype is there...but honestly, the decision of making this guy British gets weirder and weirder as this episode goes on, get ready for it. None of you are ready for what I assume is the very obvious plot twist of this freakin guy.

Catfish of the century, this freakin guy, I’m pretty sure.

Yugi immediately believes this completely out of place white British stranger in the Indian backwoods next to this inaccessible lake and immediately thinks “yes, my Grandfather crash landed in India EXACTLY where I’m standing right now, and now I must save him.”

Thankfully, Yami exists to gently and politely tell Yugi to hella stop.

Also, I like that Yugi has finally stopped wearing his school outfit out of school. But, he is instead wearing a jacket that is so close to his school outfit I honestly couldn’t tell until the end of this episode. It’s like...I think one shade more purple, it has white piping, and his undershirt has a center seam. It’s nice Yugi has 3 versions of the same black sleeveless undershirt, and this show cares enough to show that tiny factoid about Yugi’s closet.

So, because Yugi is a dumbass and Pharaoh has to just sit back and watch this happen so he can say “told you so” later, they follow this random cultist they found in the woods. Much like Hansel and Gretel, we snack on cake crumbs all the way to the witches house, which in this case, is an undiscovered monolith you would have easily seen from outer space.

HMMMMMMMMMM.

And so get ready for this:

Hey guys.

Remember how Alexander the great was buried in a pyramid?

Now because they’re name dropping Alexander, that’s actually kind of helpful, because Alexander the Great’s favorite damn horse in the entire world died while he was at war with India so he named a city after it. It’s believed to be in Punjab, which is in the Northern part of India

Which means we first of all, definitely crossed the tallest mountain range in the world to get here, and also means that we are like...in some really disputed territory of India right now, and it is crazy that these kids went here for a vacation completely unsupervised.

Another fun fact about Alexander is that when he died, it took 6 days for his body to decompose. At the time, they thought it was because he was a God (or in Yugioh’s case, Extremely Cursed) but nowadays historians think it’s because it took him 6 days to fully die. He just wasn’t dead yet. Had to give it a minute and the ancient Babylonians just got way too excited.

Anyway, Alexander super died in Babylon so I don’t know what the hell he’s doing in India. There is a fun spot in History where his body did get dragged to a couple different places, meaning we probably did lose the original Alexander and there’s a lot of people just guessing at where he ended up...but putting him clear up in India sure was a choice when one of his assumed burial sites was literally Egypt, which would be a more fitting location for a Pyramid and a more fitting location for this show.

Especially since Alexander was trying to invent a new race and culture...it seems a little strange he’d be buried in such a massive pyramid, but maybe he got a really, really good pyramid deal from the funeral home when he was like 28 and just figured he’d change it before the time he died at 32.

Which...now that I’m older than 32, how crazy is it that Alexander the Great died at freakin 32? You blink twice and you’re 32. Is history seriously trying to tell me this guy wasn’t like secretly 62? That maybe he just celebrated his 20th for like 20 years in a row as a royal mandate? I just feel like history is playing pranks on me with Alexander.

Anyway, our weird shady new archeologist guy is named Alex and so take that as you will.

I sure hope Alexander the Great was revived to wear khakis and bother children. Guy conquered the world once and was one of history’s Freakin Worst so he does deserve it, but also...it would explain why he thinks it’s normal to wear a Darth Maul robe over your business casual.

Anyway, lets enter the obvious trap pyramid.

Joey just wanted a nice time running around Northern India. He just wanted to eat some yummy chaat and look at some tourist destinations and maybe glance at a Bollywood star or two. But instead he’s gotta deal with spike floors because Yugi couldn’t say no to a cultist.

Also...one of those spikes clearly went through Tea’s feet, right? And she is absolutely fine? Just checking on Tea’s godlike strength and clearly it is still godlike.

Alex gives us a very long explanation of how he went upstairs and Grandpa went downstairs, and there was a door or something so Alex turned back around and Grandpa was gone.

All of those steps were probably plot relevant and I’ll probably forget all about it in 2 episodes.

The thing is Alex...literally thinks he evaporated. Literally thinks that. But how do you disprove it to this freakin guy who like...might have named a city after his horse once and thinks that’s a normal and acceptable thing to do?

and so Joey immediately leaps onto the haunted playing floor.

the way Yugi said this line was sort of hilarious to me so I may cap it. If I remember to do it (I’ve been a little busier lately, with things opening up, as you can tell because my update schedule is in the toilet.)

So, if Joey jumps in...everyone else has to, also.

And we say good bye to Alex and enter the new forest zone, which looks a LOT like the other forest we were just in.

Nice Protoss armor.

We get some hijinks from the local wildlife, which are all cards but real (but not real because we’re in a board game...don’t think about it) and the off brand Sheikah tablets have helpful monsters in them if you touch em.

This season may have been better off as a video game, being honest.

Joey has gone somewhere else, despite going onto the same game tile, and he’s too busy on a mountain range to really help anyone out. So he’s just gonna vibe up here for a bit.

Tea got up after this point and said along the lines of “k, what’s next?” Because mortal danger does not affect her and she fears nothing.

At a beach somewhere, Tea and Tristan spend some quality time together forming a new family with whatever these creatures are.

And Tea’s love of her winged angel comes full circle and now I will suffer this winged orb for the rest of this arc, pretty sure.

Please admire the number of belts on Tea. Her outfit is like max 00′s and I appreciate that. We’ve had a lot of questionable fashion on Yugioh, but they actually dressed Tea pretty on point this arc. Like I often feel like 00′s fashion is hard to define or describe, but it’s Tea right now. That’s it. She did it, it’s right there.

Yugi gets a new flagship card for this arc, and this time it’s Celtic Guardian. Hell why? I feel like his defining card changes every single arc, and they need to like focus and just give him one. In fact, I’m pretty sure it’s still Dark Magician...and maybe the show forgot?

Anyway, if you just got here, this is a link to read the rest:

https://steve0discusses.tumblr.com/tagged/yugioh/chrono

I think I forgot that link in the last recap because yo it’s kind of been a while since I’ve updated, I feel. (well I had a graveyard post and those don’t count really) But, we’re back, we’re still going, slowly but surely.

[preciouspeterbparker]

i wish i were

inspired by conan gray’s “heather”

warnings: stepsibling incest (not yet but that’s the whole premise), underage masturbation, underage sex, angst. peter’s like 16 and a half, Tony’s almost 18

word count: 2.2k

summary: peter’s in love with his big brother. no biggie. (spoiler alert: it’s a big deal)

(A/N: okay this has been living in my head rent free for over a month. i've written more, but it's not fully fleshed out yet. 

i figured i would post this and see if anyone is interested in reading it before i put a bunch more effort in lmao. this is filth. most of the angst comes later lololol (and more filth).

i hope you enjoy and please let me know what you think / if you'd like to read more!

- bloo)

PART ONE

Peter stands at his locker, desperately trying to blend in and remain unseen as he switches out his English textbook for Physics. The school year is basically over, given that it’s the last week of May but he’s still not comfortable in the junior-senior hallway. He’s always been the youngest (and therefore smallest) kid in most of his classes, given that he’s been in the ‘gifted & talented’ track since middle school. (He’s on track to graduate next year, taking his last few mandatory classes and completing an internship for additional credit.) This year, Peter feels even smaller than usual; maybe because most of the seniors are already eighteen, while as a sophomore, he isn’t even seventeen. He doesn’t have many friends this year, because of it. Ned moved away last summer because his dad got a new job, and, well, he’d never really needed more than Ned before. 

“Hey Pete-squeak,” comes a voice from behind, making him jump. Rolling his eyes, Peter pivots slightly to face the newcomer. The infestation of butterflies that he's been harboring for the past few months begins to flutter immediately, tickling the walls of his stomach as his cheeks flush lightly.

The voice belongs to a tall (or, well, taller than Peter, anyway), ridiculously handsome boy with dark hair and dark eyes, walking towards Peter with his hands in his pockets. The cheeky smirk on his face is all but permanent, but the small, genuine smile it slips into is something that Peter holds close to his chest, something that is typically reserved for him.  

Tony, his older brother, is pretty much Peter's favorite person in the world. Technically, he’s Peter’s step brother. Maria, his mom, and Peter’s dad Richard got married when Peter was a year old and Tony was almost three. They’d essentially spent their whole lives together; neither of them could really remember anything before. They’ve always been close, but that’s changed a little bit this year.

“Hey Tony,” Peter chirps, reaching back into his locker to grab his physics binder. He tries to act natural, even though he feels anything but. His heart’s going a mile a minute inside his rib cage. He feels a little ridiculous, he has for the past few months. Swallowing, he manages to sound relatively calm. “You read the last 2 chapters of Beowulf, right? Mrs. Herrera gave us a pop quiz last period.” 

The older teen groans. Closing his eyes, he throws his head back, a metallic thunk sounding as it collides with the locker he’s leaning back on. “Fucking hell. The final paper is due in like four fucking days! Is that not enough?” It’s quiet for a moment as Tony pauses before he opens one eye, cutting it to look at Peter. “What were the answers?” 

Peter snorts in response, shutting his locker. “Not happening, T.”  He pulls his phone out of his pocket to check the time and lets the left side of his body rest against the cool metal. Three minutes til the bell rings, and Mr. Riley’s class is right across the hall. So he’s essentially got three minutes to indulge himself and the fuzzy warmth that’s running through his veins. He loves any time he gets to spend with Tony. “You’re lucky I told you at all, be grateful.” 

Tony wrinkles his nose at him. “Rude,” he scoffs in mock offense. “I know you can remember them,” comes his teasing accusation. (And he’s right. Peter can recall the entirety of the quiz, but he’s still not going to enable Tony.) Then he pauses and raises an eyebrow at his younger brother. “Is that my sweatshirt?” The garment in question is a worn and slightly faded black Led Zeppelin USA 1977 crewneck sweatshirt. Peter’s wearing it over a charcoal and white check button-up. The sweatshirt is one of Tony’s favorite pieces of clothing, he wears it all the time (hence why Peter...borrowed it...without asking).

Having mentally prepared himself to be questioned at some point, Peter’s reply is already on the tip of his tongue. “Yeah, it ended up in my laundry and once I put it on it was too cozy to take off. And it looks good with these jeans and the button-up. And my boots. Trying out a new look,” he finishes, smiling as he pushes his glasses further up his nose. Tony often teased him about the thick, clear-but-slightly-pink frames, but Peter hadn’t wanted glasses at all (he doesn’t need any more reasons to be teased, thank you), but he likes these. They make him look cute, more feminine. More like someone Tony could want. 

“You’re right,” Tony smiles. One of his hands comes up to playfully ruffle at Peter’s russet hair. “Looks great on you, kid.” There’s warm affection in his voice. 

Peter feels his cheeks go hot again, and he wills the flush to go away. He can’t take compliments from Tony, now- they make him ache and preen simultaneously. He knows that Tony doesn’t mean it the way he wants. Peter knows that Tony would never speak to him again if he knew what was really going on inside his little brother’s head. The thought makes him sick to his stomach. 

Speaking of stomachs. “Hey,” he starts as he fingers through the papers in his physics binder, attempting to find the problem set that’s due today. “Did you ever catch up on Hell’s Kitchen? I’ve been rewatching episodes trying to wait for you, but you’re taking too long. You saw the episode where Gordon-” Peter’s heart falls to his stomach and he abruptly stops speaking when he looks up to notice that Tony isn’t looking at him anymore, barely seems to be listening. 

It falls completely out of his ass when he sees just what, just who, has stolen his attention. 

“Sorry, Pete, gotta go,” Tony mutters once he realizes that Peter’s stopped talking, shooting him a hasty smile and shoving off the navy metal. He skirts past Peter, a slight skip in his step as he makes his way down the hallway. 

Peter's swallows and clenches his jaw as he watches his brother walk straight to her, the bane of his existence. The reason he and Tony don’t spend as much time together anymore. The object of Tony’s affections. Pepper. She's...everything Peter wishes he could be, honestly. Tall, somehow a perfect mix of skinny & curvy, bright blue eyes, long strawberry-blonde hair. She's perfect. And not only in looks; she's also ridiculously smart. If Tony wasn’t valedictorian, she surely would be. She even volunteers at the local soup kitchen every weekend, and Peter’s pretty sure she reads to dogs at the animal shelter once a month. He hates that Pepper is so nice; he hates that he can't hate her without hating himself for it. 

As if he didn't have enough self-loathing already.

***

Peter exits the bathroom that connects his bedroom with Tony’s after gently flicking the lock on his brother’s door to disengage it, the soft ‘snick’ ridiculously loud in the quiet of the house. He’s the only one home; Mom and Dad are at some sort of event for Dad’s law firm, and Tony went to a party at Rhodey’s house. (Tony had insisted that Peter was invited, but he had to know that the younger would never go- why would he want to be surrounded by drunk, horny, belligerent teenagers? The last thing he wanted to see was Tony and- )

There’s a dark gray towel loosely wrapped around his waist, so loose he has to clutch it in his hand to keep it from falling. He closes his own bathroom door behind him and drops the towel, digging through his underwear drawer to pull out a random pair of plaid boxers. 

After sliding them on, the brunette takes a deep breath and lays back against the pillows, arms behind his head. He tries to consciously relax his muscles, the tension of the day not having melted away during his shower like he had hoped. Time for Plan B. It’s never let him down before. Peter reaches for his phone and unlocks it before swiping through his apps to open Spotify. The sound of “Dazed and Confused” fills the air through his speakers, and he sets it to repeat on a loop. It’s a little fucked up, the way he’s conditioned himself to respond to this song, but- Peter knows the whole thing is fucked up; he’s fucked up. 

Closing his eyes, he does the only thing he’s been capable of for months: he thinks of his older brother. 

He’s growing fond of the new facial hair Tony’s trying out; he wonders how it would feel against his skin. Which areas would be the most sensitive to its touch? His thighs? His neck? Peter’s head tilts back and to the side as he imagines wet, warm lips and the scratch of stubble. Just the thought, the phantom sensation, makes a soft mewl leave his mouth. It’s a little ridiculous how easy he can get himself going, when he thinks of Tony’s touch, of his body. Of his love. In his boxers, his cock shifts against his thigh as it begins to fill out. 

The sensual, plucky bassline and wailing guitars of the song drag along, and so does Peter’s breathing as he brings a hand up to pinch at one of his nipples. He imagines the way Tony would tease him until he was whining, begging for release. He supposes it wouldn’t be dissimilar to his older brother’s typical manner of playfully taunting him. Maybe Tony would pin him down like he did when they were younger, climb on top of him and hold him there with the muscles he’s gained from boxing in the garage. The opportunities he’s had to see the older teen breathing heavy, shirtless and glistening with sweat, would be forever ingrained in his mind. The mental image sends more blood rushing south and his dick throbs as it quickly reaches full hardness, drawing a gasp from his mouth. 

Peter takes himself in hand, studying the details of his cock. He knows he’s not huge, but he’s at least on the larger side of average. It’s flushed a deep, mauve-y pink, and he traces the line of a vein on the side with the tip of his pinkie. A shiver shoots down his spine. He wonders how similar it is to Tony’s. Is he circumcised like Peter is? Is he bigger? Longer, thicker even? Sure, he’s seen him naked before, when they were younger changing or in the bath, but that stopped around the time Tony was seven or eight. 

(Tony and Peter had come home from school one day, and Peter’s head had been reeling over what he heard some older girls saying on the bus. He’d decided to ask Tony about it. His big brother knew everything. ...Mom & Dad caught them kissing in their bedroom. That was the end of bathing together, and Tony got his own room, too. Peter never forgot about the way his big brother’s lips felt against his own.) 

A bead of precum oozes out of his tip and Peter rubs his thumb over it, smearing the liquid over his cockhead. Robert Plant’s voice moans over the speaker and Peter echoes the sound as he slowly strokes himself with a loose grip, his hole tightening around nothing. Biting his lip, he hesitates before slipping his left pointer finger into his mouth, rolling his tongue around it sloppily. Once it’s wet, he reaches down and gently presses the pad of his finger against the tightly furled muscle between his cheeks. His breath hitches as the sensation; he’s only touched himself down here a couple of times before. 

The tip of his finger begins to breach his opening and a whine leaves Peter’s mouth. It stings a bit so he tries to relax, muscles fluttering, making a mental note to grab some lube next time he goes to the drugstore. He wants to be able to stretch himself out more, to imagine Tony’s fingers, Tony’s cock, splitting him open and stuffing him full. Fuck-

Tightening his grip on the base of his cock, Peter grits his teeth and grunts softly as he pulls his finger from his ass. He can’t cum yet- he’s not done. He reaches under his pillow, pulling out the balled-up t-shirt that’s taken up residence there. The black fabric has faded in some spots, and the Black Sabbath logo is cracked and worn; it’s one of Tony’s favorite shirts. Peter brings the soft cloth up to his nose, fumbling with it to find the area with the strongest smell. There are hints of Tony’s Old Spice deodorant mixed with a scent that’s distinctly Tony, a warm, masculine musk that has saliva pooling in Peter’s mouth. Delirious, fucking his hand to the beat, he wishes he had dug a little further in the hamper, pulled out a pair of Tony’s briefs. 

That’s the thought that does him in. Peter cums into his fist, gasping his brother’s name, the sound getting muddled in the maelstrom of guitar and drums. Thick ropes of jizz splatter on his stomach and chest, entire abdomen heaving with his breaths. 

He wipes the mess up with Tony’s t-shirt before tucking the fabric back under his pillow for safe keeping.

to be continued???

[suchalonelysunflower]

“She’s got You Mesmerized” (C.H)

Pairing: Calum Hod X Reader

Requested: Yes!

Summary: Based on the song “Heather” by Conan Gray. You notice how Calum seems to fall for the new intern at the studio, even when he doesn’t realize it.

Warnings: The reader uses she/her pronouns, I’m sorry if I make anyone uncomfortable by that, it was not my intention at all. Angst with a happy ending. Language. Jealousy. Mentions of Cheating. Maybe some grammar mistakes (English is not my first language, sorry)

Word Count: 2K

Author’s Note: Requested by the lovely @rime-warrior I hope I could do it justice 💕 There are some lyrics hiding in the story. Feedback, Comments and Reblogs are always welcome! I love to hear from you guys ❤️ You can read my other works HERE. Happy reading 🦋

@rime-warrior: Hi! Can you please write an imagine with Calum based on the song “heather” by Conan gray :) (yes I am in my feelings at the moment)

Relationships are hard. You knew that. They can’t survive only on love, that would be foolish. No, you need to take compromise, to communicate, to have some sort of connection beyond the physical attraction and be respectful towards each other. But, most importantly, you need trust.

And you trusted Calum, you really did, with all your heart. He had done nothing but make you happy every single day for the past two years. Of course, dating a rockstar is not an easy thing to do, but despite the paparazzi, the fans and the constant going away on tour, you made it work.

You still remember the night that he made it official, when on a cold December night he posted that picture of you in his favorite and iconic hoodie “It looks better on her anyway” he captioned it.

It was not like him to brag about his personal life on social media, and the fact that he did that just made your relationship stronger from then on, knowing that you were in this together till the end of the line.

You were happy and in love. It seemed like nothing could penetrate the little bubble that you created for yourselves. Well, that was until her.

Calum texted you inviting you to the studio that day, saying that the two of you could grab dinner afterwards. It’s been a while since you spend some quality time with him since he came back from yet another very successful tour, so you accepted immediately. You got yourself ready, grabbed the keys to your car and drove, your heart already excited.

When you got there, however, all that emotion died down a little, your smile quivering a bit when you saw Calum sitting alone in a room with another girl. He was laughing at something she said, shaking his head amusingly as she placed her hand on his knee. You had a bad feeling about this. You didn’t know who this mystery girl was, but you knew Calum, and he would never cheat on you, would he?

Almost like he could sense your presence, your boyfriend lifted his gaze and smiled as he met yours through the big window of the booth. He quickly got up and ran towards the door, wrapping his arms around your waist and softly pecking your lips, making your thoughts fade away in his embrace.

“Hello, gorgeous” he hummed, resting his chin at the top of your head.

“Hey, handsome” You said with a smile, pulling away from him just enough so you could look him in the eyes “Ready to go?”

“Yeap. But first, I want you to meet someone”

Calum went inside the booth one more time and grabbed the girl by her hand, making her stand up and follow his way to you.

“This is Heather. Heather, Y/N”

Oh shit, she was pretty. A true sight for sore eyes . Her blue eyes contrasted perfectly with her raven black hair, she had curves in all the right places and her complexion seemed angelic. You weren’t completely sure if she was real or just a vision until she extended her hand towards you.

“It’s so nice to meet you!” Heather said shaking your hand. Smiling like a kid.

“She’s been helping us with the album” Calum said looking at her “She’s an amazing songwriter. Honestly, she puts all of us to shame!”

“Oh, please stop! Cal here is just being too nice”

“No, I’m not! I swear Y/N, she’s a genius”

They started laughing and you awkwardly joined in, not really understanding if there was joke.

“Well, I’m sure if Calum says it, then it must be true” You gently, grabbed your boyfriend’s hand and intertwined your fingers with his “It was so nice to meet you, Heather”

She smiled and said a little “likewise” before heading back to the booth. You and Calum made your way to the parking lot, and as you left the building you couldn’t help but comment “She seems nice”

“Oh, she is”

“And pretty”

“Is she?” Calum raised an eyebrow at you, making it seem like she just thought about it “Huh, guess I never noticed. Maybe it’s because I have the prettiest girl as my girlfriend” He smiled as he brought you closer to him, placing a kiss on your forehead, making your heart flutter.

Maybe he didn’t notice. But you definitely did.

Over the last couple of months, you noticed how Heather was always around. On the studio, on the casual hangouts, on the nights out and on every party.. everywhere you go there she was. Always looking like an angel and always hanging around close to Calum. Maybe even too close for your liking.

Calum was always very touchy with the people he liked. Always hugging and kissing his friends on the cheek, never afraid to show affection. And that is something you absolutely love about him, but seeing him being that affectionate with her made you feel uneasy.

You couldn’t help but feel a hint of jealousy every time he put his arm around her shoulders, or how she would playfully hold his hand to compare sizes. You didn’t know if you were mad at Heather for leaning her head on his shoulder or at Calum for letting her get that close. You knew you could trust him, but you didn’t know if you could trust her.

She was nice. Sometimes too nice, actually. Making you feel bad about having those insecure feelings running around your head. But sometimes you just couldn’t help but wish she’d leave for good. Still not trusting her at all.

As the days went by, you sit and watched your suspicions came true as her flirting became more aggressive towards your, seemingly unaware, boyfriend. Not even trying to hide it or pretend to have an ounce of respect towards you as she laid her legs across his lap, play ‘pretend fighting’, laugh way to hard at all his jokes, leaving lingering touches here and there or took a lot of selfies kissing his cheeks. Even the fans thought you guys were broken up at some point, but nobody else seemed to notice, especially Calum. Maybe you were exaggerating.

You were getting ready to go out tonight, the band had just released a new single that went straight to number one and they needed to celebrate it. You were putting on some makeup when Calum came out of the bathroom, already dressed to impress.

“Hey, Y/N. Could you take a picture of my outfit? Luke asked for it so he could figure out what to wear since he can’t decide”

You laughed and nodded at his request. Grabbing his phone from the nightstand, you quickly started taking picture after picture, giggling at your boyfriend’s absurd poses. It was in the middle of all that scene that he got a text. It wasn’t your intention to open it, but your finger clicked on it by accident.

Heather 🙃💕: Thnks for the hoodie 💕💕🥰 can’t wait to see you 2nite ❤️❤️

Attached to it there was a very provocative mirror selfie of her, wearing nothing more than his empathy hoodie. The one he gave to you or that you stole from him every time you miss him and wanted to feel close to him. Your favorite. His favorite. And, apparently, hers as well.

Calum noticed how your expression changed drastically in a matter of seconds. One minute ago you were laughing with him and now it seems like you were about to burst into tears.

“Love, is everything okay?” He asked, making you lift your head, breaking your trance from the screen. You were livid.

“I don’t know” you spat “You tell me”

Turning the screen to his face, Calum’s eyes widened as he saw the picture, grabbing the phone out of your hands.

“Why is she sending you pictures like this?”

“I- I-“

He stuttered, making your face fall in disappointment “Calum, be honest” You said defeatedly “Are you cheating on me?”

Calum snapped his head at you.

“What?! Of course not!”

“And you expect me to believe you?” You said, gesturing at the phone in his hand.

“How can you say that? Y/N this means nothing!”

“You gave her your sweater!”

“It’s a fucking piece of fabric! It’s just polyester! It’s nothing”

“It wasn’t nothing to me!” You cry, not being able to hold it in anymore “I just- I just don’t know why would you ever kiss me when she’s standing right there! Practically begging you to do it. I’m not even half as pretty or talented or anything to call your attention anymore”

“What?”

“Please, Calum. I know you like her better. I see your eyes as she walks by. I see how you look at her while I die inside, you never seem to notice me but you always notice her, and I know because some time ago you used to look at me the same way. You’re spending all your time with her, laughing at her jokes and letting her flirt with you shamelessly. She’s got you mesmerized and you don’t even realize it. I wish I were Heather, maybe that way you could love me back” You whisper that last part, wiping your tears with the back of your hand.

“Y/N, that it’s not true. That is not the same way I look at you at all. I love you. Heather and I are just friends” Calum said, rubbing his hand down his face.

“Does she know that?”

“Y/N..”

“I don’t feel like going out anymore” You mutter, standing up, walking straight to the bathroom and locking the door.

As soon as you closed it, Calum was banging the door on the other side “Y/N”

“Just go, Calum”

“Fucking hell, Y/N. Don’t do this!” He was getting impatient “You’re being childish! C’mon, we’ll be late!”

“Then go! I’m not leaving”

You heard him mutter a “For fucks sake” before silence came over you two, only for it to be broken fifteen minutes later by the sound of the car driving off the street. Only then you allowed yourself to cry again.

You didn’t know how much time you spend like this, sitting on the floor with your back pressed to the hard wooden door, crying until you felt like you couldn’t cry anymore. So, slowly you got up, took all your makeup and your clothes, put on some pajamas and went to bed, not sure if Calum will be back for the night. Not sure if he will be back at all.

Tears started to burn your eyes once again and you allowed them to roll down your cheeks and stain your pillowcase. Your sobs rocking you until you drifted away in dreams.

Moments later, maybe a few hours or minutes, you were woken up by a large figure laying next to you on the bed. He was back.

Calum scooted closer to you, bringing his arms around your frame and pulling you into his embrace. He hid his head on the crook of your neck, leaving a trail of small kisses down its way.

“Cal..” You whispered. Your voice hoarse from all the crying “What are you doing?”

“You were right”

His voice sounded small, broken. Not like him at all.

You turned around in his arms, facing him in the darkness “What?”

Calum let out a sigh “You were right about Heather. She was flirting with me and I didn’t notice, but tonight she tried to make a move and kiss me…” You held your breath, not sure if you wanted to hear what he had to say next “She didn’t get to do it though, I pushed her away immediately and told her to never do that again. Next thing I know I was on my way here. On my way to you”

“Calum..”

“I’m sorry, baby. I was an idiot. I shouldn’t have invalidated your feelings the way I did, I should’ve listen. You’re the only one for me, love. I only got eyes for you, always you. You’re the only one who got me mesmerized, my everything. I’m sorry I haven’t shown it a lot lately, I’ll make it up to you”

You hummed and lifted your head so you could press your lips against him. He welcomed the kiss by placing his hand on your cheek and caressing it lightly.

“I’ll get that sweater back for you, I promise” He said, kissing your forehead.

“Oh, she can have it or you could burn it. I don’t care. I have the the only thing that matters right here, right now in my arms” He chucked at your response, bringing you closer to him.

“I love you”

“I love you, more” You hummed against his chest, breaking the comfortable silence once again after a while “Does this mean that I can say ‘I told you so’?”

[smutandfluffohmy]

Homework extension

From: Smutandfluffohhmy Pairing: OUAT Peter Pan Professor! X Reader Warnings: Smuttt and overstimulation  A/N: I was listening to Yagami Yato’s Hawks pegging audio and 🥵🥵anyone have any pegging requests 👀? This is the long overdue professor smut that I wrote but then deleted it because I hated it so I rewrote it all ✋🏻 

University had its ups and downs and your English literature professor was definitely one of the ups. His British accent definitely made everyone swoon over him however the boring way he droned on every single class certainly cancelled out his hot accent.

His shoulders were broad, and he always radiated a sort of boyish charm but God the things you would do to him if you had 20 minutes alone with him. You slightly shook your head trying to erase the thoughts and tried focusing on something else. You couldn’t pry your eyes off him so instead you decided to focus on his tie.

He always wore ties with silly things on them. Sometimes they were just random shapes of different colors, other times they were full superhero comic strips but today it was a black tie with little oragami boats on them.

The lesson dragged on and you wanted nothing more than to crawl back into your warm bed instead of sitting inside a cold classroom. Your eyes shifted from him, to his tie, to the clock and to the book proped open in front of you in a continuous cycle.

“Remember to turn in your assignments today by midnight. See you all next class” Dr.Pan said and with that everyone hurried out of the classroom without a seconds pass. Grunts and whispering filled the once quiet classroom as you huffed making your way towards your car.

This years winter was hard and unforgiving and it was especially worse for you since you were used to more warm temperatures all year round. Hugging yourself tighter you couldn’t wait to be inside your car.

The radio droned on about the weather and an uneasy feeling settled in the pit of your stomach. You were new here ,knew nobody and were all alone if anything happened. Your mind wandered and before you knew it you were pulling up on your drive way.

The house wasn’t necessarily yours but your aunt let you stay there and house sit since she was always busy on business trips and both of your appreciated this temporary agreement .You eyed the houses next to yours and decided it was better now or never to finally introduce yourself to the neighbors. Your aunt didn’t tell you anything about the neighbors only that she has also never met them before.

Parking your car inside the garage you got to work on a gift of sort that would most definitely give you asking rights for a shovel next time you needed it. You got to baking your brownie turning off the heater as the kitchen radiated so much heat you felt like you were burning.Carefully cutting out each brownie you put them on two separate plates and made your way out to the cold once again.

Walking down the drive way you skipped your way to the first neighbors house and was treated with a nice old lady who profusely thanked you for the freshly baked brownies and told you she would drop off your plate as soon as she could.

‘One down one more to go’ You thought to yourself as you made your way to the other house, cursing as snow crept inside of your boot.

Inside the house Peter sighed pouring himself a glass of wine trying to relax from a long day of lecturing.The doorbell rang throughout the house, Peter sighed setting down his cup making his way to the door. You stood there looking up at your English professor. Your English professor who was wearing sweatpants and his button up shirt, half buttoned with a loosen tie. 

“Y/N? What are you doing here?” Peter asked looking at you up and down trying to figure out the answer to his own question.

“Dr.Pan! Sorry I live next door I was just trying to meet my neighbors.” You said shifting the weight of the plate between your hands.

“You’re a little late how long have you’ve been living next door?” Peter said waving you inside.You walked inside grateful for getting out of the freezing weather even for a second. Your toes were freezing as the snow slid down your boot.

“Do you want a drink?” Peter asked you holding up the bottle of wine showing you what he was having. You nodded not wanting to be rude.

“Yes please professor and since the start of the semester” You said nodding at him and continued to look around his house that was filled with different house plants.

“Please call me Peter I'm your neighbor. Well at least outside of class.” He said handing you a glass, you took it afraid of dropping it. “You can take off your jacket at least defrost a bit.” He said looking for any excuse to get you inside. Truth be told you were one of his best students and wanted any excuse to keep you there a bit longer

“Thank you Pro-. Thank you Peter.” You said correcting yourself taking off your layers of wet clothes until you were left in a tank top and wet pants and socks.You continued to look around his house 

“Here you go.” Peter said handing you the cup. Smiling gratefully at him you walked towards him not noticing the things he left scattered on the floor.Falling forward you tried to regain your balance but your foot was caught on one of the various things Peter carelessly left scattered around. Waiting for the impact Peter caught you in his arms awkwardly still holding on to the cups your faces mere inches apart.

Both of you looking at the others lips and without a moment of hesitation both of you went in for the kiss. Peter placed the glasses on the counter as he picked you up carrying you off somewhere.

“The things I would do to you.” You mumbled between his pressed lips.

“Show me.” Peter said urging you on waiting to see what you were going to do. Probably a quick fuck and you’d be gone as soon as you came leaving him with the memory to jerk off later. The kiss deepened, Peter’s hands going under your shirt unhooking your bra, running a finger across your nipple. Your hands tugged his pants off of him and taking off your own pants as Peter continued to play with your nipples making you moan against his mouth.

Pushing him to sit down on the edge of the bed you dropped to your knees taking his dick in your hands slowly pumping it. Pre cum already dripping down the shaft.

Your tongue licked it up, the sensation made Peter twitch under your touch. Rubbing up and down softly sucking on his dick but not giving his enough to get off, his fingers gripping the edge of his bed. His dick was pulsing desperately wanting some friction.

“Enough with the teasing.” He said his toes curling. “I should just pick her up and fuck her senseless” Peter thought as his dick continued to twitch under your touch.But before he could do that you got to your feet.

“Get on your back” You said getting up and motioning for him to get on the bed all the way against the headboard. His dick so hard that he was sure that if you made him wait any longer he won't be able to last long.

“Come on let me cum.” He begged not wanting to move. Ignoring his pleas you pointed at the tie he still had on.

“Can I?” You asked pulling his tie from around his neck. Peter simply nodded intrigued as to what exactly you were going to do with it.Grabbing his hands and tying them to the headboard you gave it a good tug.

His hard and aching dick twitched every time you even stroked his hair. Getting ready to place yourself down on his dick Peter was already imagining how good you were going to feel around him.

“I’m so getting fired.” Peter mumbled out as he watched you lower yourself down.‘This is wrong’ He thought to himself, he wanted to get up and walk away from this but he imagined just how good you felt since you walked into class. He desperately urged himself to stop but what line was left to cross? He already kissed you, groped you, hell he was about to be balls deep inside of you

“I can stop if you want. I wouldn't want you to get in trouble.” You said leaning down to bite on his neck, sucking harshly on the delicate skin.

“No no no please.” Peter pleaded between moans cursing himself for not grabbing you and fucking you when he had the chance.

“Please what?” You said into his ear as you blew air on the already sensitive spot you were sucking on his neck, the sensation making chills go down his body making his dick jump. Bucking his hips he was desperate for any sort of friction, any sort of release.

“Please let me cum” He begged trying his best to reach out to you fighting against his tie. Grabbing Peter’s dick you positioned yourself to start sliding down his shaft. Peter letting out a mix of whimpers and moans and you started to bounce up and down his dick.

“You feel so good doctor” You said in a breathy voice as you felt his dick hit deep inside of you with every stroke.

“Fuck. Oh fuck” He cursed already feeling himself unable to hold back any longer.

“What happened to your no cursing rule?” You said making your strokes slower watching as Peter buckled his hips upward trying to meet you halfway. Sliding down slowly keeping your palms pressed against Peter’s hips preventing him from moving. 

Peter didn’t last long, coming inside of you leaving him to catch his breathe. His face flushed red embarrassed for cuming so quickly but before he could form an apology you kept going making his dick twitch again. 

“Fuck I can’t keep going” He mumbled out but he didn’t want this to end.

“You’re the one that begged to cum.” You said going down to continue leaving hickeys scattered around his neck. The sensation making his dick twitch again, feeling himself get hard again. Moans left his lips, moving up and down slowly giving Peter a chance to get hard again. After all of this he was still going to jack off the second you walked out the door, knowing you were next door made his imagination go crazy.

Bouncing up and down faster Peter moaned and grunted his eyes screwed shut at the feeling of you. 

“Don’t cum yet.” You ordered not slowly down, watching Peter’s pained expression watching him come undone under you.

“Please I’m so sensitive I can’t keep going.” He pleaded groaning trying his best not to cum.

“I said not yet.” You said going up and down slower, your fingers going through his hair giving it a light tugged that made a moan leave his mouth. 

“Pleaseee” Peter moaned trying to reach for you.

“Okay.” Was all you could say.

Your hand reached for your clit, your two fingers rubbing tight circles around your clit as you kept feeling Peter’s dick hit deep inside of you. Your nails dug into his skin your moans filling the room. Peters face flushed hot ‘I’m so getting fired for this’ he thought to himself. 

Reaching your climax you twitched around his dick, letting yourself slump down on his chest. Pushing yourself up, you reached over to untie him. Pushing away your hair that was stuck to your forehead with sweat you got up putting on your clothes.

“I Uu should get going.” You said putting on your pants.

“Wait are you sure? You can sleep over if you want” The words just stumbled out of Peter’s mouth and he felt a bit guilty for wishing you would agree to stay.

You tilted your head to the side looking at him in confusion. For a moment he forgot who you were, who he was, the relationship you two had outside these four walls but when he remembered his face turned a slight shade of pink.

“Right.” He mumbled under his breath as you continued to gather up your things trying to ignore your pounding heart.

Sighing you swallowed harshly as you looked to the windows that were covered in a thick layer of snow. Dreading the short walk back to your home and just how cold it was going to be when you got back, as you reached for the door knob a ring rang through the quiet house.

‘Weather warning’ flashed on your phone.

“Hold on for a second.” Peter said as he walked over to the Tv and turned it on, a blue hue filled his face as he flicked through the channels. 

‘Hope nobody was planning on going anywhere anytime soon! The roads and houses are covered in several feet of snow. Make sure to stay in doors and stay bundled up. This has been the weather with O’Warren back to you Jan.’ The weather man said, standing in front of a green screen with an oversized coat and a wide smile. You wanted the earth to eat you up, all you wanted is to go home and pretend you didn’t just sleep with your professor.

Shifting on your feet you reached for the doorknob trying your best to unlock the various locks on the door with your shaky and mitten covered hands.

“You know you’re welcomed to stay.” Peter said from behind you standing in the same place he was. Your heart pounded in your ears un sure what to do next. Scrunching up your nose you crossed your arms over your chest.

“That would be great but I have an assignment due today and my professor is a bit of a hard ass.” You said tugging at the bottom of your jacket.

Peter let out a loud laugh “Well fuck him.” he said with a goofy smile that made your heart jump.

“I did. Still don’t think I’d get an extension.” you shrugged your shoulders wanting desperately to be in a warm bed and at this point it didn’t matter whose. He let out another laugh and reached out to you urging you to stay.