#it's incredible the amount of insanity you can fit into one old man

[genshinlivesketchblog]

lantern rite 2023 part 3 final

#genshin impact #sketches #lantern rite spoilers #i keep drawing zhongli as deranged as possible #it's incredible the amount of insanity you can fit into one old man

[therealvinelle]

what are the cullen’s hobbies? (not canon ones, things and activities you think they’d enjoy - even if being a vampire made it a little difficult or damn near impossible)

God, my eye is twitching with the desire to give them the weirdest hobbies imaginable.

The Cullens have an insane amount of money and time, and their powers (ultra-fine muscle control, amazing vision, etc.) means they will excel at a lot of hobbies.

The hobbies they are prevented from by their vampirism are things involving animals, professional sports (as you'll have to submit to drug tests and your health and fitness routine being monitored), close contact with people in general, food-based hobbies, and hobbies were humans are likely to bleed one way or another.

To say nothing of how niche a hobby community can get. Everyone knows everything about everyone, and that opens up for a level of scrutiny a vampire might not be prepared for.

So, let's assume these barriers aren't an issue for whatever reason. What do the Cullens do?

(I... admit I wasn't entirely able to resist that weird hobby urge.)

Alice might just find herself doing cat or dog shows. The level of perfectionism and effort that goes into preparing your pet (depending strongly on breed and fur quality, of course, some breeds require little if any preparation. The universal experience, though, is GROOOOOOOOOMMMM and if it’s dogs, then TRAIIIIINNNNN your dog) could very well appeal to her, and I imagine she'd develop her own coat products. Silicone powder, color-enhancing shampoo, volumizing spray, she's got her own line, to say nothing of the edge her gift would give her, as she would know which puppy or kitten to buy. (The "which cub am I choosing?!!" issue being a common one because when a puppy is 8 weeks old you simply do not know if it will grow up to be a hottie or not, and it’s not much easier with 12 week old kittens. This is a science.) Her pets win everything.

Carlisle, well, the trouble with this guy is his work is his hobby. And it's already one vampires are supposed to be unable to do. The man is a fluke. Carlisle's hobby is now to be able to contribute to medical research and reference patients from the 1820's without anybody asking questions.

Edward... god, all I can picture is some intensely esoteric craft, one that five people in the world can do and that creates something beautiful and meaningful. Making instruments, the rarer and more elaborate the better, is the name of the game, I think.

Emmett would love to compete. He's a vampire, he's going to win at everything anyway, he's incredible. He kicks the butts of seventeen-year-old humans who worked hard and makes them all cry because he just took their scholarships. He whoops, beats his chest. VICTORY!!

Esme, cooking competitions. She's winning them all. And, because anon said to remove the vampirism problems, she's not eating her competitors.

Jasper is into theatre. Not because he's particularly interested in it, oh no, he just likes to abuse his gift this way. With his gift he can make the other actors bomb their scenes, or make an untalented schmuck seem like the next Rex Harrison. He's in a movie club for the same reason. He made one guy laugh during Schindler's List. Just the one.

Renesmée, if finding the limitations of her hybridness lifted, becomes a freestyle diver. Who needs to breathe? Usually Renesmée, but not anymore!

Rosalie has her cars already, but she strikes me as a horse girl. Give the girl an unafraid horse, and the ability to compete without that being an issue, and our girl is on a Dutch Warmblood competing on a national level in dressage.

#cullens #twilight #twilight renaissance #twilight meta #the cullens #carlisle cullen #rosalie hale #emmett cullen #jasper hale #renesmee cullen #you know this post has been in my drafts forever because renesmee was spelled renesmée #renesmée cullen #alice cullen #esme cullen #edward cullen

[ecoamerica]

Watch the 2024 American Climate Leadership Awards for High School Students now: https://youtu.be/5C-bb9PoRLc

The recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by student climate leaders! Join Aishah-Nyeta Brown & Jerome Foster II and be inspired by student climate leaders as we recognize the High School Student finalists. Watch now to find out which student received the $25,000 grand prize and top recognition!

#ACLA24 #ACLA24HighSchoolStudents #youtube #youtube video #climate leaders #climate solutions #climate action #climate and environment #climate #climate change #climate and health #climate blog #climate justice #climate news #weather and climate #environmental news #environment #environmental awareness #environment and health #environmental #environmental issues #environmental education #environmental justice #environmental protection #environmental health #high school students #high school #youth #youth of america #school

[thestrangestthlng]

Public Figures Owe You Nothing

Same thing, different fandom. Now, my first soiree into internet fandom was Glee nearly fifteen years ago. Given insane popularity of the show and one of their two main couples, Klaine, and Darren Criss being a straight man, I am no stranger to the "only gay (out) queer actors should play queer roles" argument.

I don't necessarily disagree completely. Queer actors should be highlighted in queer roles. But guess what, the film industry is shit.

Not everyone is out, can afford to be out, is ready to come out publicly, or cares to have anyone in their business. There is a huge number of fans who are way too invested in the parasocial relationships with their "favs" and cross lines.

It's a tale as old as time. Darren Criss' now wife, Mia (Swier), was mercilessly harassed online and honestly in person. I distinctly remember people MAILING her things. There was an incredible amount of hate directed towards her because SHE wasn't a HE and a group of fans were hellbent that he and Chris Colfer were secretly in a relationship, even though both were happily in their own relationships. (Both of them are actually still IN those relationships and I love that for them.)

Someone gave Dannell Ackles (wife of Jensen Ackles) a gift at an event. When she reached it she was cut by a bunch of rusty hooks in a fucking voodoo doll.

One of the NSYNC members (I can't remember if it were Chris or Joey) ended up being broken up with by their partner at the time because of the amount of hate they were getting.

This came up because someone said on instagram that they "will not be watching [RWRB]" because [Taylor and Nicholas] "are not out" and "they are gay for pay". So, me being me, says to them that the actors owe you nothing. Their sexuality/gender identity is no one's concern but their own.

Also, it was really disgusting what alot of Heartstopper did to Kit. He's just a baby and they strong armed him to coming out before he was ready and made him feel like he had to justify it. Cruel irony being that it's the exact opposite of the point of the books, and exact opposite of his character. I'll never forgive them for what they did to my son.

I went on to tell them that Hollywood is shit. It's homophobic, racist, sexist, xenophobic, transphobic, everything phobic. They like beautiful and handsome, classically beautiful, white, straight actors that fit into their perfect mold. As soon as actors come out they get type cast, lose rolls (because how could a homosexual portray intimacy with a woman? It's not like they are actors or anything). I, of course, got blocked because they didn't agree with me and that's fine.

Did you know that many actors in the union don't even make the $26,000 a year that is required to qualify for health insurance? Most actors are working class. Yes, many acquire a net worth, but it's honestly one huge disaster from losing what they have. The median salary for actors in the US is about 60K a year. So why would a working class actor or even a upper middle class actor, want to potentially dismantle their career trajectory by telling something that is really no one's concern anyway?

Not everyone wants to be stuck in a Ryan Murphy rotation. Maybe once we get more queer film and show makers and Hollywood execs start to fuck off we'll get more. I'm 99% sure that RWRB is the ONLY gay romcom without underlying trauma porn. The only other one that comes close is a Christmas movie.

Actors are still human and deserve privacy. They owe fans nothing. Their partners deserve privacy. If they are queer good for them. If they are not, good for them. But fans don't get to dictate who comes out and when. So yes, we want more queer actors in queer roles, but we don't get to decide if the ones who are not open get to have these roles. Sometimes it is who is best for the role.

As far as RWRB: Neither Taylor nor Nicholas have ever made any public statements on their sexuality and are both private people when it comes to their relationships. It's really goofy that people think it's an appropriate question to ASK them personally. Interview or not.

All that matters to me is that they killed that online and the characters they acted were madly in love with each other.

Moral of the story: they can want someone and love some one and not want that life for them. Neil Patrick Harris and David Burtka were together for three years before they came out and that's when NPH came out - at 34 on his terms, as it should be. Some people really missed the message of the book; that queer people deserve to come out when and how THEY want to.

/Ted Talk

#rwrb #red white royal blue #red white royal blue movie #taylor zakhar perez #nicholas galitzine #queer identities #parasocial relationships #fans being goofy #fans #fandom #fandom culture #lgbtq #coming out #hollywood #actors #mind your business #seriously #it's no one's business who they're with #be better #rant

[givemewallywestorgivemedeath]

Something about dc glass canons just hit different.

Dc has a lot of tank characters. The heavy hitters. The overpowered pseudo gods. I'm talking your average Kryptonian, Amazonian, Atlantean or Martian. A tank character in dc usually has super strength and a very high durability, if not complete invulnerability. Starfire and Cyborg, for example, would be considered tanks because of how durable, strong and powerful they are, despite the fact that they aren't invulnerable.

There are a lot of tank characters in dc. Classic tanks for the Teen Titans are Donna, Garth, Vic and Kori. For Young Justice, the tank characters are Cassie and Kon. In the Justice League they'd be Clark, Diana, Arthur, J'onn, Kendra/Shayera, Billy, ect. I could literally list tank characters all day. There are so many of them.

I find that tanks can get a little old, fast. There isn't a whole lot you can do with a tank character, especially not with dc tanks. They're all basically gods so there aren't a whole lot of stakes in your stories. Usually these tanks have a fatal weakness to make them more interesting and to insert stakes back into the story but even with those they can get dull. Dc tanks tend to have a heart of gold and they don't tend to mess around with morality much. These are powerful characters and with that much power it becomes scary if they are anything less than a boy scout. Of course there are exceptions, like when dc wants their characters to be edgy (cough cough Arthur and Diana) but typically the tanks are fairly cut and dry morality wise and very palatable.

Then there are dc's 'just some guy's. There's a lot of these as well. These are your typical 'no powers' heroes like Batman, Green Arrow, Nightwing, Red Arrow and Robin. There are a lot of these guys. Now the 'just some guy's are allowed to be very complex characters with a wide range of morality. In fact, they're encouraged to do so because they're supposed to be relatable to the audience. The tanks are gods to be admired, bastions of peace, hope and justice, but the 'just some guy's? They are just people. For that reason they can be incredibly compelling and interesting characters but they lose a lot of points when it comes to fights. Because of the power scaling in DC, these characters are either unable to do anything above street level or they have an insane amount of plot conveniences that allow them to somehow win (Batman with his prep time or Batman with his bottomless utility belt or, well, really Batman with anything)

But where dc really hits it out of the park? Their best and most compelling characters (in my opinion)??? The glass canons. A glass canon, for those unfamiliar, is a character who can deal a massive amount of damage but who goes down with one hit. All the power of the tank and all the vulnerability of the 'just some guy'. Not a god, not a man but perpetually in-between.

Classic DC glass canons would be Wally, Raven and Gar (depending) for the Teen Titans, Bart for Young Justice, Barry/Wally, Hal/John/Guy/Kyle/Jess/Simon/Jo, Zatanna and Black Canary (depending). Basically any speedster, Green Lantern or magic user would fit the bill. Some metas as well depending on power levels. Gar and Dinah are tricky because to truly be a glass canon you have to have an insane amount of power and around normal human durability. So it really depends on their characterization.

Dc's glass canons are so much fun. They're allowed to be human! By god do they fuck up and mess around and make mistakes. They try their best to be good but it's not an inherent quality like the tanks. They're powerful enough to be cocky but mortal enough that they're extremely vulnerable at all times. Take Bart for example. That little dude could rewrite reality if he wanted to. He could take out an army before they could blink. He could hop across the multiverse in an instant. He'd also collapse if you hit him over the head with a chair.

It's just such a fun dynamic??? The stakes are real. One bullet could take your hero out and yet they still face down gunfire everyday. They have the powers of gods and yet they are extremely human and flawed. It's a fight between holding back and being human and letting loose and becoming the thing they fear.

I just find the glass canon to be such a compelling character archetype. This character could singlehandedly take down a country if they wanted to but also they just got a paper cut while trying to do their taxes.

#dc #dc comics

[i-am-minty-fresh]

Why do I like Monkey D. Luffy?

!Spoilers for One Piece and Soul Eater!

Okay this post is gonna be really long but this question has been driving me insane so I’m going to ask the question my therapist is too much of a coward to ask.

Why do I like Monkey D. Luffy?

I like One Piece as an overall story because it’s found family, it’s pirates, it’s rubber hose animation, it’s friendship is magic, etc.

But why do I like Luffy so much? 

When it comes to anime I am typically drawn to a certain type of moron.

Certain type of moron examples:

Mugen (Samurai Champloo)

Bon (Seven Deadly Sins)

Spike (Cowboy Bepop) 

Kid (Soul Eater)

How I describe my type is either a suave or boar-headed moron with anger issues and ridiculous amounts of power (bonus points if they have a rivalry thing with another member of their group). Now looking at this head on, a certain curly-browed cook and moss-headed swordsman come to mind, and I do absolutely love Sanji & Zoro, but why aren’t either of them my favorite character? I mean Zoro’s voice actor literally does the voice for Mugen, and both Kid and Spike are suited-up Kung Fu experts so what gives? Rather than looking at what Sanji & Zoro might be lacking, let’s look at what Luffy brings to the table.

For simplicity let’s use Soul Eater as an example (mostly because I adore it). Here’s a reminder of the (main) bad guys in Soul Eater:

Do you know what they all have in common? They’re gods. Not in the literal sense but they’re over 800 years old and come to represent foundational elements of life in Soul Eater (madness, magic research, and magic tools). They’re incredibly powerful and terrible. They’re greedy, selfish, paranoid. They know exactly what they’re doing and relish in it. They’re great villains because they’re so punchably evil. I don’t feel bad for them at all but do you know who I do feel bad for? Crona. Crona is the demon swordsman. They’re a man-made god. Absorbing Asura and becoming the Keshin they become the most powerful thing in the world but above all else…they’re a child. Crona is a teenager developmentally stuck behind their peers. All they want is love and attention and care. They love their friends with their whole heart and end up sacrificing themselves for them at the end. 

As much as I love the idea that any old mister/weapon could kill a god (which is what the anime shows) it’s more realistic to say that while only gods can kill other gods…there are good gods. Nothing beats adults' pain and misery quite like a childishly simple view of friendship alongside a lovecraftian amount of raw power. Show them that you can wield all of that power, and more, without a lick of the cruelty. Remind them what they should really be afraid of.

This brings us to our sweet boy. He’s everything his enemies aren’t. Loyal, silly, kind, selfless, he’s above all else powerful. He is what mortal men should fear and more but…he’s just a child. He lets himself be bossed around by his navigator, be hit by his cook when he wants more food, be lied to by his sniper, be babied, be sung too, be looked after, be cared for. He just wants his friends and family to be happy. He wants people to be free. He has the soul of a conqueror and a crown fit for a king but the heart of a child. 

He’s terrifying. His empty eyes and wide smile remind you that he doesn’t care if you bleed. Your life means less and less to him as time passes and his mercy becomes few and far between. The worst part is, he doesn’t hate you. He gets nothing from watching the life leave your eyes. You are nothing to him. He doesn’t even know your name.

#character analysis #one piece #topic essay #monkey d luffy #samurai champloo #soul eater

[bigwishes]

I wish I could be a beefed up daddy whenever I put on leather gear. And I wish I could make people around me the same so I could surround myself with the best kind of circle of friends, with benefits.

oh you like some leather play? Well before we can get started we need to suit you up man, You'll find a great set on your bed why don't you go and try it on right now and show everyone. Sure it feels a bit loose in some places, and maybe the leather is a bit too heavy in other spots but I'm sure it'll feel like a second skin in no time.

nice beard mate, you are really starting to look the part. I know you really wanted to be beefed up but we might not have time, you are running late man. Late for what you might be asking? well leather night at your local gay bar of course. You'll have to hoof it on foot mate, we gotta make sure your musk is good before you get socialising with a bunch of guys just like you. Man, you really seem out of breath, and you keep complaining about how hot your suit is, well that's leather buddy, its like your body is trapped in a green house but its okay, the bar is just over there and you can unzip it a bit and show off that new chest hair. Oh how silly of me, I forgot to beef you up will lets get to it. You feel your body begin to expand under the leather and the suit grows tight and uncomfortable as your new layer of scratchy hair is compressed against the leather. You feel an insane amount of pressure build up as you hear the leather strain around you before the buttons and straps give way to your new body.

you feel your body continue to expand as the body fills in every last gap of the leather. Your dick grows hard as the leather strains against it, crushing it against your pelvis. Your ass expands to fill out the last of the loose leather and it feels like it might burst through your suit. Your transformation felt so incredible you had to go through it atleast one more time before going in, or maybe you'd just spend the rest of the night swapping between your old self and the new beefed up leather king. As you try to pull your jacket off it rolls off your shoulder but gets stuck right before you can pull it over your bicep. You roll the top of the jacket back over your shoulder and try to take your pants off, the belt slips off easy but it becomes clear to you that the belt is either for decoration or a tool for later use. Even with the belt off you can't get you finger tips under your waist band and every time you think you are making progress your pants grow tighter, You go for the zipper to see if you can get some relief from the pressure crushing your dick but you find there is no zipper, or button to unbutton. It's all for decoration. That's right bud, I did warn you it'll feel like a second skin in no time. You wanted to become like this every time you put on leather gear but who say's Id ever let you take it off? If you were able to take it off you'd turn back before any of your new friends could touch that big body of yours, but still an unfortunate snag I don't think you're ever gonna cum again with how contained you are down there, but what are you still doing out in the street? Get in the bar and go and make some new friends. Oh, I hope your co-workers like the new fit when you show up tomorrow...or maybe you should try and get a job at the bar tonight, have fun as a beefy leather daddy.

#male transformation #muscle transformation #muscle #male tf #gay transformation #leather #leather daddy

[ecoamerica]

Watch the American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 now: https://youtu.be/bWiW4Rp8vF0?feature=shared

The American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 broadcast recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by active climate leaders. Watch to find out which finalist received the $50,000 grand prize! Hosted by Vanessa Hauc and featuring Bill McKibben and Katharine Hayhoe!

#ACLA24 #ACLA24Leaders #youtube #youtube video #climate leaders #climate solutions #climate action #climate and environment #climate #climate change #climate and health #climate blog #climate justice #climate news #weather and climate #environmental news #environment #environmental awareness #environment and health #environmental #environmental issues #environmental justice #environment protection #environmental health #Youtube

[flowerslut]

For the writing asks — 1,11,22

1 - Which of your fics would you keep the basic plot of but rewrite completely?

💀💀💀 well you see. I might be doing that right now 🤭

ok. i'm only half-kidding. i'm not rewriting all of call of the night, but it is in the process of getting a major overhaul (the first several chapters are actually getting fully rewritten, and there are going to be HEAVY edits to the first half, and moderate-to-light edits on the second half) because I love that fic, I think it's such a great fun plot, but both 17 year old and 24 year old shannon need to let [REDACTED] year old shannon have a swing at it. i'm not changing any parts of the story plot-wise, but I am polishing it a lot so that its a more straightforward, adventure/mystery-driven story. because holy shit did past me loooove to tell instead of show.

also I would 100% rewrite parts of the hunted, too (just cause I think I could make it better on a sentence-level but also I could definitely make that fic a little longer and a little more fucked up 🤠)

What is it about watching the same two idiots falling in love over and over again?

it's so wonderful!!! because with any ship, there is already something in canon that makes you fucking feral over them; whether they're an established couple, have a fraught relationship, or share some insane chemistry/sexual tension, there is always that little something that draws you toward a ship!!

for me it's usually a dynamic that I go for. not all of my ships fit the same mold, but there's definitely a pattern for me. I love ships where person A has committed atrocities and/or has a fucked up past—a 'doesn't speak unless spoken to' -type bitch who (in some cases) is a bit of an asshole—and person B is a little (or a lot) more outgoing and considered the "good" one, but definitely has that in-universe potential to be a fucked up little monster; a real 'you're a good guy so I guess it's fine if you sometimes get a little morally gray for the sake of the plot' -type bitch. i'm talking vegebul, bbrae, sasusaku, zutara, reylo, jalice, griddlehark—the list goes on man. i've got a Type! ♡

but in fic! watching them fall in love! over and over again!! is incredible! because you get to take this ship—this dynamic you love so dearly between two characters you cherish—and put them in SITUATIONS 🤩 canon only gives you so much to work with (whether that's plot, characterization, etc) so it's so fun to create, and see how other people create new stories and adventures and obstacles for these characters! I wanna watch them fall in love 1000 times because there are an infinite amount of #situations these assholes can get put into, and I just want to see what they'd do 🥰

also I know I already answered 11 but now I just want to bitch a bit about more things. in no particular order: I can't STAND love triangles or jealousy plotlines, and a lot of modern AUs bore the piss out of me 💔

send me more writing asks!

#also I was thinking about this after I drafted it last night and: #inb4 someone tries telling me one of those ships doesn’t apply or isn’t like the other #au contraire my good bitches. look harder at what I said and try again #cotn

[moviemunchies]

Before this movie came out, there were some reservations about it–whether it would be good, or if it would even be released. There were problems with the state of the DC movie universe, for starters, and the weirdness going on with Warner Brothers management. Despite all of that, the guys at Warner Brothers insisted that this movie was coming out, and that it was “one of the greatest superhero movies ever made.”

It is… not.

Barry Allen is the Flash–a founding member of the Justice League and the fastest man alive. Upon getting a better grip on his power to travel through time, Barry decides that he can prevent his mother’s murder and clear his father’s name through a very simple switch-up. So he does that; except he’s thrown out of the timestream unexpectedly to his eighteen-year-old self’s life, where his mother is alive and he’s in college. 

Except everything’s changed! Because changing history isn’t only going to change the present, it also disrupts everything else, so Barry’s now in an alternate timeline. And in this timeline, Zod is invading and Barry can’t find Superman or the League around to help. So he’s got to figure out how to save the world, and then get home.

Yeah, it’s another loose adaptation of Flashpoint.

This movie was being billed as the thing that was going to reset the DC continuity for the movies and put it in the new state for Superman: Legacy. Except watching it, the movie is plainly not that at all–the way the universe is left at the end of this movie is not really compatible with whatever they’re doing with the new DC movies. The end result is that the movie feels pointless in its conclusion, a funny little one-off that affects nothing.

It’d be more forgivable if we’d had more time with this iteration of Barry Allen/the Flash. Instead, much like Superman in Snyder’s movies, we’re skipping straight to big stories without developing these characters enough to care. And now we’re getting no more of Barry Allen, or at least this Barry Allen.

Which is kind of a shame? Because I went into this out of curiosity, and I didn’t expect that much from it. I remember for the first third of the movie or so, I was having a surprising amount of fun. I liked this version of Barry. I enjoyed seeing his interactions with his fellow Justice Leaguers, and I thought about how I’d love to see more of these characters interacting. I’d love to see more stories about Barry, but I don’t think we will, at least not anytime soon.

Also, Ezra Miller went kind of insane in the last year or so, and that’s probably an admittedly good reason as to why they’re not rushing to make more anytime soon.

The multiverse is pretty weak here–people have written pieces as to why we’re all sick of the multiverse by this point, and that’s fair. Other than the main Plot itself, where Barry is in an alternate timeline, it only really comes up in the climax, to sort of say, “Hey! We remember all of these past DC iterations! Do you?” Okay, fine, that doesn’t make it good storytelling. It’s not terrible, it’s just not great, either.

Michael Keaton’s a fun Batman. I’m going to be honest with you–I never had much attachment to the 1989 Batman. I liked this take on Batman, though I don’t know if that means he should have replaced Ben Affleck, or even the Thomas Wayne from the comic; the decision to reference the Burton film felt more like fanservice than something that actually made sense.

Also! Question: why does Iris like Barry? By the end of the film, she’s clearly interested in him, and while we know he’s a great guy, the way he’s acted towards her throughout the movie isn’t very appealing from her point of view. She should be incredibly skeptical about his prospects as a romantic partner, if anything. It seemed like a typical ‘Nerd guy gets The Girl’ Hollywood trope than actually writing for the characters.

This movie feels like it’s had a dozen reshoots added to it, to try to make it appeal to more fans through references, and to try to make it fit or not fit in a new DC universe. And while it’s great fun at times, I’d have preferred if the movie only tried to tell a singular story. I would like an actual Flash movie that had Barry interacting with his own supporting cast and rogues gallery–because Flash has an amazing rogues gallery! Thawne! Zoom! Captain Cold! Mirror Master! These would be fun on a massive blockbuster budget!

And it’s pretty darn egregious that, with everything that’s going on in Warner Bros, that they canceled Batgirl, a film with a female Hispanic lead, and kept straight on with this, when its star has actually committed crimes and threatened people.

I don’t know! I had more fun watching this than I expected, and that was a nice surprise! At the same time, this far from “one of the greatest superhero movies ever made” that was promised–I don’t know how someone even arrived at that proclamation, unless the executives decided “nostalgic references to previous movies” counts as quality. Given the state of Hollywood, that’s a possibility.

If you’re a massive DC fan, or liked other movies in this iteration of the DC universe, than you’ll probably have some fun with this movie. But is it a must-watch? No. Not even close.

#The Flash #Barry Allen #Ezra Miller #Movie Munchies #DCEU #superheroes #DC comics

[graphictees102]

Infants Deserve Custom T-Shirts and Apparel Too!

Here is a conspicuous assertion: guardians love their youngsters. Ask any parent and they will let you know their kid is one of a kind, unique, wonderful, astounding, etc. A mother's face illuminates at the opportunity to brag about her child, and nothing makes a dad more joyful than sharing his youngster's accomplishments. An extraordinary way for guardians to show their pride is to make custom clothing for their babies, little children and small kids. No one realizes their child as they do, so rather than purchasing one more plain one-piece from the retail chain, why not make a custom outfit that shows off infants' distinction.

Utilizing an internet based custom shirt printing organization, guardians, grandparents, companions and even kin can customize bodysuits, hoodies, shirts, napkins, covers and the sky is the limit from there. Many destinations currently include embellishments like sparkle or running to improve individual plans. When a custom shirt or frill has been requested, it tends to be additionally tweaked at home utilizing weaving string, sequins, and various additional items effortlessly found in create stores. The following are a couple of good thoughts I've assembled for tweaking child garments.

FOR THE PROUD PARENTS

Guardians trust their kids will mirror their most desirable characteristics, characteristics why not feature child's elements with a clever shirt or another chin-wiper? In the event that the child is a carbon copy of their daddy, why not make a charming shirt that expresses "similar in many ways to the old man" in a tomfoolery, blocky text style. Make it a stride further by requesting father a shirt that basically says "old block" - this thought makes an incredible present for fathers day or Christmas. One more of my top choices is "charming like mama, slobbers like daddy" which would be wonderful on a tucker or a cover. Pleased guardians likewise appreciate making shirts that show the amount they love their child; making a custom "mother's number one young lady" or a "daddy's little monkey" shirt is so natural."" First time guardians can likewise play around with shirts like "my mother is insane and she has me to thank" or "I made daddy uncovered like me."

FOR THE BABY WITH THE BIG PERSONALITY

Back to one of my unique places: each kid is special! Whether a child is smiley and cheerful, a squirm worm, creeping before his companions, snatching everything in sight, continually eating, or and so on - custom shirts can assist them with communicating their character before they gain proficiency with the words to communicate it themselves. With such countless tones and styles of attire accessible, making custom items for babies and little children can be fun and flexible. Click over here Graphic tees

An ideal model is placing child in a shirt that has an image of a jug and says "I drink until I drop." If planning for a charming child kid, perhaps a shirt that says "chicks dig my rotund thighs" or "lock up your girls" would fit. Another disappointing, yet amusing thing infants do is shed their garments. In the event that this conduct sounds natural, perhaps an "I'd prefer be bare" shirt would get a grin from other grasping guardians. Assuming that you end up continually entertained by the things your child does, follow the parody world and make a sweeping or shirt with a receiver that says "thank you, I'm here throughout the evening!"

FOR THOSE SPECIAL OCCASIONS

One of the most straightforward ways of altering child shirts is by recollecting all of infants' "firsts" - first Christmas, first birthday celebration, and so forth. A coordinated parent can make custom clothing as little as seven days ahead of time and have it prepared for the event. Not exclusively will it be a good time for the child to have now, it will likewise make a fabulous remembrance. At the point when it's the ideal opportunity for child to go through their most memorable night from home, many guardians will ask grandparents to look after children. This is a major move toward nurturing and a distinction for grandparents, so why not celebrate the event with a custom shirt. A shirt that says "most loved excellent child" or "grandmother's darling" would be a sweet shock and an extraordinary method for showing your appreciation.

One more earth shattering event for guardians and small kids is the expansion of another child. An incredible method for astounding relatives is by making a shirt for your kid that says "I will be an elder sibling/sibling." This will cause your more seasoned youngster to feel exceptional and assist with getting them amped up for having a kin. At the point when you are prepared to make your pregnancy declaration, have your kid wear the shirt for a tomfoolery and remarkable uncover.

I trust these thoughts will start inventiveness and act as a leaping off point for custom clothing plans. Children and small kids are such a lot of tomfoolery, and making custom shirts to dress them up in can be an extraordinary method for showing the amount you appreciate having them in your day to day existence! Cheerful making!

[silverandarsenic-hcs]

bro your hcs are so funny the ringtones one cracked me up so you have any on the papa and ghouls social media ????

im SO glad you asked and thank you 

Papa I still doesn't know about cell phones and they're worried if they tell him he'll go into such a deep state of shock they'll have to put him down like a horse with a broken ankle. hes still coming to grips with the reality of phones as a concept. so dont even ask him

Papa II: Doesn't understand social media and doesn't really care to. III made him an instagram and he posts over filtered and blurry pictures he took at the club with captions that don't make sense. only follows models and comments weird shit but somehow his dms are stuff chock full of bitches.

Papa III: influencer. periodt. He runs a perfectly curated instagram, twitter, facebook page, snapchat, and tiktok. (he doesn't use tumblr anymore for obvious reasons (they took down the p*rn)) He has a closet in his house specifically dedicated to ring lights and stage mics. posts fit updates on his story, all his tweets are funny and a little bit tacky in the perfect humanizing and loveable old man way, he does tiktok dances that are lowkey thirst traps. posts pictures of girls hes with but only like their elbow or something like never their face. constantly checking his analytics. knows his audience.

Copia: Only does band related stuff on social media, except for the occasional personal tweet, which makes absolutely no sense. he's completely tone deaf. theyre all hilarious because theyre not supposed to be funny. im getting dril vibes from his twitter. accidentally leaks shit all the time because he doesnt know everyone can see what he posts

Swiss: Perfect on social media in the way that he doesnt post a lot to look sexy and mysterious. stage manager for the rest of the bands videos/posts because he doesnt want to be embarrassed by association if they're cringe. private accounts all around because his empty ass instagram is exclusive content

Rain: Doesn't post a lot anywhere because he doesn't have a lot to say but he's always on his instagram explore feed. only follows people he knows in real life. probably private account. sends an annoying amount of animal videos to the ghoul group chat.

Dew: i cant tell if hes total frat boy on social media or absolutely feral. all his pictures are either him standing w the boys in a row looking absolutely boring or he only ever posts videos of the most dangerous bat shit insane stuff they do. his tiktok is dedicated to what he can set on fire and get away with. every other video is obnoxiously filming and making fun of Aether. posts everyones private moments online because the people wanna see.

Aether: Regular and professional. tweets updates, guitar videos, the occasional funny moment. he blocks anyone who comments about dews videos. really just incredibly boring. thinks everyone has better things to do than sit on their phones all day, but it shuts them up, so can he really complain

Mountain: doesn't have social media and doesnt care. still watches vine compilations on youtube and thinks tiktok is a dumb waste of brain cells. has a facebook but he hasnt used it in ten years.

Cirrus: tiktok star. does all the dances and trends and makeup tutorials. Swiss films everything for her. instagram has a whole b&w artsy theme going on. ruthlessly judges everyone else's social media. always trendy and relevant and posts fun tour montages and vlogs. catches the best moments of everyone. really the place to be for peak ghoul content.

Cumulus: extremely regular posts, occasional selfie and group photo. follows a lot of serious news pages and reads scientific articles and always finds new recipes of shit to make for everyone or crafts to entertain rain with.

- Rosie, who will now use this time for shameless self promo of her instagram and twitter

#those tiktok comps yall make of the ghouls #like tagging the ghouls / band as people in the tiktok #those are so fucking funny #love em #ghost #ghost bc #the band ghost #papa i #papa ii #papa iii #swiss #aether #rain #dew #mountain #cirrus #cumulus #social media #hc #heacanons #rosie

[kenshiv]

In your opinion which period was his hottest? I love '64 and '75

why would you ask me, a John girl who can find all his eras sexy, this? no joke, the only irredeemable one for me is the bald egg from 73, and the unkept beard from mid-1969 (but even the latter...). but here is my analysis:

okay, i can't get behind the thirsting for pre-1963 John. hamburg John? that's a child (says the 20yr old). a dirry and disgusting one, but a child nonetheless. the only person i can understand thirsting over him is babier baby Paul. now, this?

i get it. looking at 1963 John makes me understand Beatlemania perfectly (and these girls were actually controlling themselves!). still impossibly baby but with a charm you don't find anywhere else, and incredibly handsome. 10/10 would take him to Barcelona with me for two weeks of gay sex. next we have:

presented without comment. would 10/10 cast him as Benjamin Braddock. now here comes my VERY special boy!!! here he comes... here he is!!!!

my gorgeous, handsome, beautiful sword swallower i want to buy him moustache protecting teacups so nothing will damage that wonderfully kept blond (!) thing on his face and tell him i'm very proud of him for being gay and that he's valid and he doesn't need a woman to fix him. also give him a huge kiss.

now to my lovely evil & toxic girlfriend >:-) those lovely ginger strands finally getting the attention and freedom deserve. turns out her pronouns are she/they now, and she has an even more toxic girlfriend she brings everywhere, but it's okay bc mean lesbians usually have that phase in their development. she'll get over it.

now, not unlike you reading this, i also used to lack good taste and hate on this beautiful cult leader's beard. sure, he's evil, dead behind the eyes, probably killed someone, would sacrifice all those he loves for his wife, but who wouldn't? this isn't about his character, it's about how badly i want to brush his hair behind his year and feminize him :)

this was a violent act. to tease us with this handsome young proto Steve Jobs, then leave us to die by going into insanity-induced seclusion for an entire year was... wow. worst thing he's ever done, for sure!

the most handsome, misunderstood psychotic gay man in the whole of England. look at that freckled arm. next:

looking at pictures of 1974 John causes me such a visceral reaction... i'm a lesbian but i used to think i was bisexual purely by the amount of hours i can stare at his biceps. sure, enormous gender envy, but Something about the divorced bisexual man at his absolute peak just clicks for me, y'know? can't IMAGINE what it must've been like to look at him and just not fucking him... probably the closest to human torture some people have gotten to (especially since EVERYONE was fucking him like, give us everything manwhore!)

the divorced bisexual is now back with his homophobic wife but he's still Divorced and SluttyBisexual in spirit. fox mulder's biological father. incapable of closing the top buttons of his shirt. i love him :(

the modern 80s fashion fit him SO fucking well. DILF excellence. a man can be married and still divorced :'-) so handsome

there's more but tumblr hates gay people </3 so 10 images only

#ask #john #if you disagree you are wrong

[perzawa]

→ defender of justice

saeyoung choi x fem! reader

desc: you weren’t the best at relationships. man after man, woman after woman, but you could not find the right one. after getting stood up on a date, a mysterious man with red hair comes to the rescue. 

genre: smut

warnings: praise kink, unprotected sex, sex with a stranger, pet names

word count: 3.1K

Not again.

Not like this.

Hot tears pricked your eyes, the salty liquid rolling slowly down your flaming cheeks. How long had it been since you were sitting in that exact spot, waiting and waiting and waiting. You looked around like a lost puppy, mouth agape and eyes wide. Where the hell was he? You scammed the restaurant, your eyes glossing over multiple bodies of men and women. Everyone looked so happy with their spouses or potential mates, smiling in the faces of each other as they shared meals. 

That was supposed to be you laughing. That was meant to be you sharing spaghetti with your boyfriend. How could you be so foolish to believe he’d show up this time? 

“Ma’am, are you ready to pay for your meal?” The woman asked kindly, eyes shut with a large smile plastered on her features. You frowned, wiping away at the tears forming in your eyes. 

“Just a moment, ma’am.” 

“Okay! I’ll be back!” She left soon after. Sweat trickled down your eyebrows and your breathing hitched, stomach churning painfully. You were surrounded by couples. Everywhere you looked, there was a couple. Man, women, women, men. You’d given up. He won. Getting ready to pay and leave, you stood up, wiping at the new tears forming in your eyes. 

You took one last look around. Multiple people had been paying attention to you now, apologetic looks dancing across their faces. You simply smiled in their directions. You didn’t need pity from anyone. You’ve been stood up before, you’ll be fine. Yeah, you’ll be fine after you eat six tubs of ice cream and cry your eyes out for a week. Maybe you and Akira weren’t meant to be. You had given up now, sighing as you reached for your wallet, standing to your aching feet.

Just then, a pair of shoes stepped into your vision and you looked up, instantly in awe. 

“Hey, sorry I’m late. You can sit down now.” 

You stared up at him, lips agape as you tried to process his request. This wasn’t Akira. I mean, he was no doubt more attractive than Akira was in every way, but he definitely wasn’t Akira. The last time you’d seen him, Akira had black hair, not red. 

“W-Who are you?” 

“I’m Seven. Just go with it, okay?” He whispered to you, sitting in the seat across the table from yours. Shocked, you didn’t say anything, only blinking at the man. 

“I was standing there,” he looked over and pointed to the small line of people waiting to be seated. “I was there for a bit and I noticed that you’d been stood up.” You winced hearing the words, eyes darting down in embarrassment. You knew he wasn’t coming, but it still ached to hear him put it so matter-of-factly. 

“He’s a dick. Or she.” 

“A-Are you here with someone?” You tripped over your words, rubbing your exposed arm with your hand. Suddenly the air was cooler, tighter. 

“Nah, I came alone. I originally came for pickup, but seeing a pretty little lady all by herself made me change my mind.” 

“O-Oh…” you tilted your head up at him. “Please, I don't wish to burden you or anything. You’re incredibly sweet, but you can get your food.” 

The mysterious man chuckled, running his hand through his shaggy hair as his eyes looked you up and down. “You’re precious.” 

“I’m serious. I don’t want you to pity me. I saw this coming.” You mumbled those last words, pushing your plate of food to the middle of the table, hoping a waitress would swing by soon so that you could leave quickly. 

“Hey, I’m sorry. My conscience won’t allow me to leave you alone here.” You frowned, crossing your legs under the table. Your eyes met his and you’d noticed how pretty his were, suddenly melting. This man was adorable. Sure, he was kinda underdressed to be eating there, but you overlooked his apparel. He was hot. 

A few minutes passed by of an odd silence before a waitress came by, taking your old food and asking who she assumed to be your date, if he was ready to order. 

So he did. 

“Seven…” you muttered, hoping he would’ve been gone by now. “You’re too nice. I-I’ll pay for this as a thank you.” 

“Pay for it? Oh, hush, I got it. I’ve got enough. Don’t thank me for anything, okay?” 

And that was it. He ordered food and even shared a bit with you, even after you explained that you’d already eaten. You didn’t even know how you could both find so much to talk about, being complete strangers and all. But you still found a way. You incorporated jobs, home life, and he even allowed you to talk about your relationship with Akira a bit. 

“I was right. He sounds like an ass.” 

You giggled, reaching over the table to fork some of his salad before shoving it in your mouth. Seven gazed at you in awe, his focus completely set on you whenever you decided to share something, anything. 

“He wasn’t always like that, I promise. We got along really well for a while and it was perfect,” you looked down at the table you were sitting at before a dry chuckle found its way out of you. “We’re a bit off and on, you could say. That’s why this was so important to me. I guess he didn’t care as much.”

Seven frowned, noticing your change in demeanor. 

“Don’t let that get you down, okay? Look, you may not know me, but I’m here now. And as far as I’m concerned, I’m having so much fun right now. I’m glad he didn’t show up.” 

“Really? Y-You’re having fun?” Your eyes widened and you felt blood rush to your cheeks, self consciously rubbing your arm, which had now produced an insane amount of goosebumps. 

“Course I am, sweetie. What? You thought I stayed for my health? You’re cool. He’s missing out.” 

And with that, you both changed the subject to forget about Akira. He was irrelevant. 

You didn’t end up paying for your bill in the end, Seven did. Of course he did it, throwing in a ‘you really thought I’d let you pay for this alone?’ While he was at it. He escorted you out, hands stuffed in his pocket. You felt the cool air embrace your skin, the new area calming you now, the wind sweeping away every negative thought you experienced that evening. You almost forgot you’d even been stood up in the first place, really. But that’s how fun the ginger was. He was sweet and loud, always making jokes. His humor was a little bit odd. Well, it was extremely odd, but it made him more attractive to you. From his striped glasses to his plain sneakers, he was so down to earth. You wanted to talk to him again. You needed to say thank you. 

“I had a great time. Hey, actually, you never told me your name.” He turned to you, both of you still standing in front of the building. 

“Oh! You’re right! It’s Y/N.” 

“Well, Y/N, I had a good time. I’ll get going now, you take care for me.” The tall man turned away, pressing the button on his keys. Your ears perked up after hearing the car beep, indicating that the car was his. 

He was leaving. 

C’mon, Y/N. Ask him. It won’t be hard, right? The worst he could say is that he’s probably busy or he’s got work in the morning. Just do it. Do it. 

You yelped and that seemed to snatch his attention, the man whipping around to see if you were alright. 

“You good?” 

“Y-Yeah! Um, I’ve got no idea if you’re like busy tomorrow or something,” you trailed off, staring at your heels as you rocked back and forth on them. “I wanted to know if you wanted to come over! J-Just to like, watch Netflix. Unless you’re busy! Then that’s okay! I’m so sorry for burdening you!” You rambled on, your face entirely flushed, your body swinging sporadically from putting yourself on the spot like that. 

“Hey, hey, stop that,” he pushed your chin up, your eyes drifting to his hair, rather than his eyes. “I’d love to come over, okay? Hell, where’s your car? Let’s go right now.” 

Your eyes shot down to his, your face lighting up at his kind words. 

“Oh! Um, I took a cab here!” 

“That’s fine. Just gimme the directions, I’ll take you.” 

You could feel your heart swell in your chest. He was so damn cute. His smile stretched across his entire face, eyes closed from his cheeks pushing them upward. He guided you to his vehicle and let's just say you were more than impressed with his ride, eyes widening. Damn, now you really had to know where this man worked to afford such an expensive car. That was a question for another day. You pulled up a GPS and from there, the ride was mostly silent. You aimlessly scrolled through your twitter feed until he pulled up outside your home, first asking if he was at the right place. 

“Yeah, this is it!” Seven nodded and parked in your driveway, stepping out of his car awkwardly waiting for you to unlock the door before he did anything else. He locked his car, following after you. You giggled and unlocked your home, your cat rushing to the opening door to greet you. 

Seven laughed, pushing his way in as well. “Hey! I love cats!” 

You beamed, bending down to pet your feline. “Mmm, that’s a funny coincidence! Her name’s Elle.” 

Seven’s goofy demeanor dropped into a much more serious one. “You’re lying! There’s no way! M-My friend, his cat’s name is Elizabeth!” 

You threw your hands up, bursting into a fit of laughter. You looked up at the flickering lights, wishing you’d remembered to turn them off before you left the house. That was your worst bad habit. Seven noticed the flickering as well, but ignored it, just standing awkwardly as he awaited your next steps. You turned the main light off and led him to your living room, sitting on your sofa. He plopped down on the furniture and spotted the remote on the coffee table, passing it to you. You thanked him and turned the television on, the bright light illuminating the living space. 

“Whatcha wanna watch?” You asked, turning to Netflix. 

“Uh, scary movie? Or Anime? I could care less.” You nodded and searched for a horror film that you could both agree on, settling the remote on the coffee table. Not too long had passed before you were both cuddled up together, reclining the sofa so that neither of you would roll off by accident. You didn’t think you’d get so comfortable with a stranger, but there you were watching a horror movie with him while his arms were wrapped around your hips, pulling you into his touch. You’d be a fibber if you said you didn’t like it. 

“I hope you know I meant what I said. You’re cool as hell.” 

“Could say the same for you, Mr. Seven.” 

“Oh,” he teased, his lips close to your ear. “Am I Mister now?” 

“Depends. Do you wanna be called that?” 

Seven snickered, rubbing circles into your waist. A low groan escaped your lips, a small laugh following. Neither of you even cared about the movie anymore. 

“I guess that depends on what type of Mister you’re thinking of.” 

Chills ran down your spine and you smiled, slowly grinding yourself onto him. Seven’s breath hitched in his throat, a small chuckle following after. 

“That’s how we’re playing?” You didn’t respond, simply moaning while you continued grinding yourself against him. Seven gripped your hips tighter, rocking his hips against your ass. He pushed your hair out of the way, pressing his lips to the back of your neck. You let out a yelp, melting into his touch while his hips continued to move against your ass. You could feel him hardening, his tongue flicking against your skin. 

Seven groaned, sucking marks onto your innocent neck while you felt yourself getting lost in his touch. 

“Can I fuck you?” He whispered, thumbs rubbing circles into your hips again. You nodded, and before you knew it, he’d instantly had you on your back. 

“You know,” he started, grinning down at your defenseless body. “I did not think this was how tonight would play out. But I’m so glad it did.” He unbuckled his pants, pulling his cock free from his underwear. His cock sprung free, precum already bubbling at the tip. You licked your lips at the sight, feeling a surge of wetness rush through your pussy, wetting your white underwear. You shut your eyes tightly, your fingers finding their way to your underwear as something in your forced you to circle your clit through your panties. 

Seven spat on his hand, the mixture of saliva and precum slicking his cock enough. “That’s hot. Keep going.” He whispered, stroking himself to the sight in front of him. You whimpered, finger rubbing circles into your clothed clit while he jerked his hard cock, groaning at the your vulnerability. 

“Yeah, that’s good. So good. C’mon, take those pretty little panties off.” You weren’t hesitant at all, quickly sliding the panties down your ass. You’d never been fucked on your sofa before, oddly enough. You’d been fucked almost everywhere in your house but the time to do it on your sofa never really came up. You were glad, though, it was so hard to get comfortable on the black leather furniture. 

“Let me see that pretty pussy,” he muttered, pulling your dress up to your neck, the pink bra exposed under the fabric. Seven gripped your clothed tit before kneeling between your legs, leaning forward. 

“You’re so pretty. Your body’s so damn pretty. Everything about it. I don’t even remember his name, but he’s fuckin’ missing out.” 

He circled his wet tip against your clit, gathering some of your slick on his cock. You cried out. 

“Please, Seven, hurry.” 

“Are you rushing me? Bad girl.” He kissed the side of your lip before pushing against your entrance, sliding into the tight heat. You gasped, tears forming in your eyes from the painful stretch. It was probably helpful to mention how big Seven was. You almost couldn’t see from the constantly fading light of the television, but he was a good size. One you didn’t expect from someone so thin and lanky. Not that you weren’t appreciative or anything. 

“Oh.” 

“Oh?” 

“Yeah,” you whispered, wrapping your legs around his waist as he bottomed out inside of you, waiting for a moment to move. 

“Tight.” He choked out, pulling out halfway before slamming back into you, grunting with each thrust. His thrusts were sloppy and uncoordinated, but you could care less, clenching around his constantly moving length. You cried out his name, tears falling from your eyes. 

Seven found a good pace to fuck you at, rocking his hips inside of you slowly while you adjusted to his large cock, pussy fluttering over him.

“Fuck yeah, baby. So good. So, so good. I could cum on the spot feeling you grip me like this.” 

You looked into his eyes, slamming your lips against his waiting ones without any thinking. Seven moaned into the exchange, pounding you as hard as he could while his tongue pushed past your opened lips, both of your tongues intertwined. Your velvet walls gripped his cock harder, causing the man to begin moaning, hips stuttering while he fucked into you. You felt like you were already on edge, rocking your hips against his. Your ears perked up and you yelped hearing your phone ring. 

Seven’s eyes darted over to the contact name, sweat dripping down his glistening forehead. 

‘Akira 💕…’ 

“Answer it,” he snarled, his pace never haulting. He was quicker, harder, as he fucked his cock into you, head constantly hitting against your special spot. You couldn’t help but moan, tears drying on your cheeks while fire spread inside of you, the overwhelming need to cum urging you on. You didn’t question him, simply reaching over to the coffee table to grab the device, answering it. 

“Yeah?” You put him on speaker. 

Seven’s eyes were cut, focusing on the conversation while pounding you. He gripped your waist tightly, stifling a moan. 

“Sorry I couldn’t make it. I don’t know, I don’t think we should be seeing each other anymore.” 

Your heart dropped at his words and your stomach churned. 

“Fuck yeah,” Seven moaned loudly, throwing his head back. His hands travelled lower, gripping your ass while his cock hit the hilt of your pussy over and over again. You were so close, almost there. 

“Who’s that?” Akira squeaked. 

“No one,” you moaned out, forgetting to even hold back by now. 

“Tell him. Tell him how good you feel. Go ahead, naughty girl. Tell him.” 

You felt more tears well in your eyes, fresh liquid dripping to your damp cheeks. 

“I feel so good, Seven. Please fuck me. Harder, please. So close. I’m gonna cum. Please,” you managed to get out, fucking yourself on his cock while holding the phone in your hand. Ever thrust felt like energy being launched into your body, electricity shocking you each time your pussy clenched on his cock, walls constantly being jabbed at. It felt so good. You were almost there. One more thrust. 

“I want you to feel good. Want you to feel so fucking good. Do you feel good? You feel good with my cock inside you? Yeah?” 

“Yeah. Gonna cum, Seven. Close.” 

“Okay. That’s okay. Go ahead, I’m close too, pretty girl.” By now, Akira had hung up, his own heart dropping to his feet as well. As long as he understood how you felt, it was okay. You were fine. You’d be fine like this. 

He sped up, sporadically whimpering sweet nothings as he pounded you through your orgasm, pussy fluttering around his length while you came, cum coating his dick. Seven screamed out, burying himself to the hilt inside of you while he came, shooting his load into your gaping heat. He collapsed on top of you, both of your breathing uneven. 

“Good. That was good,” you found a way to croak out, releasing your grip on his waist. He didn’t respond, only kissing your sweaty neck. 

“Good girl.” He said, cock still buried inside of you. You flushed at the nickname, whimpering. He waited again to speak when you’d both caught your breath, bodies still, simply enjoying the presence of the other. The television was still on, the movie was over now. It had probably been over for a while. 

“Maybe it's not the right time for this, but can I take you out next week?

#luciel x reader #luciel x mc #707 x mc #707 x reader #saeyoung x reader #707 smut #saeyoung smut #mystic messenger #mystic messenger smut #mystic messenger x reader #mystic messenger x mc #mystic messenger fanfic #mystic messenger oneshot #saeyoung choi #707mc #mysme luciel #mysme seven #mysme 707 #seven x mc #seven x reader

[lucy90712]

Dream- face reveal

wc- 1971 

Warnings: use of dreams real name

~ I have been friends with this guy on the internet Dream for about 5 years now, we talk all the time but we have never met in person and I have never seen his face. He doesn't show his face on the internet and I've never asked so it just never happened, he knows what I look like all too well because I like sending him stupid selfies and we FaceTime in the middle of the night all the time.

We have been trying to meet in person for years but things keep getting in the way and changing our plans first family issues, then a hurricane and then a whole pandemic. Despite all of this we have finally set a date to meet which is not going to change not for anything or anyone. It's going to be a big day or should I say month, as insane as it sounds I'm going to move in with Dream and Sapnap one of our other friends for a little while to really make this trip worth it even if it only lasts that long.

The process has been difficult because for me to get to Florida I need to get a plane which requires me to get tested before I fly and for my own piece of mind I have been strictly quarantining for the past two weeks but its finally here. I fly out tomorrow morning. I went and got tested yesterday and got my negative result today which I need to get on the plane.

I've been packing all day today because to be there for a month I need a bunch of my set up and cameras so that my content doesn't just stop but then I also need clothes and I can't seem to get both things to fit quite right.

At one point my phone started ringing but there was a mountain of stuff everywhere so I had to dig around to find it and when I did I saw that it was a FaceTime call from Dream, I picked up and immediately put my phone down to get on with my 5th attempt at packing.

"Yo hows it going?" Dream asked

"I'd say pretty average right now I'm super excited for tomorrow but my bag is giving me a hell of a fight" I replied

"Prop your phone up and I'll try and help" he said

I did as I was told and got my small tripod to rest my phone in where you could see what I was looking at. Honestly it was a mess and I was kind of embarrassed but Dream didn't need to know that and besides my face wasn't in frame so he couldn't see how embarrassed I was. I attempted putting everything in a slightly different way to last time which seemed to work until it came to fitting in my tripod and my wash bag of which there was no room for.

"Fuck sake I thought I had it then" I raged slightly

"Ok take out the webcam and forget about the tripod because I have ones that you can use and then try because I think that should give you enough room" he said

"Hell yeah thanks dream" I said after zipping up the suitcase

I flopped back on the floor tired from the minimal amounts of effort I had put in today which just shows how incredibly unfit I am. I recovered before getting up and moving my phone to my desk where I sat to talk to Dream.

We talked for a while until Sapnap came in and I talked to him for a little while, he's been living with Dream for a few months so he warned me about a few things like you don't wake Dream up which I took note of and he told me that Dream will just come and sit in your stream. Eventually they had to leave so I was left on my own to just kind of chill until it was an acceptable time to go to sleep.

Skip to the morning

I woke up at 5am when my alarm went off, I have a love hate relationship with my alarm because I only ever use it when I have something going on which is exciting but the sound makes me want to throw my phone out the window. Despite my annoyance I got up and went straight to the bathroom to shower and get dressed, I thought about wearing something nice but then I realised I had a 5 hour flight and I couldn't bare the thought of being sat down for that long not in comfy clothes. My comfy outfit consisted of leggings and one of my ex boyfriends hoodies because I never gave it back and I'm over it enough to just wear the hoodie whenever I want.

At just before 6 I got in my Uber to head to the airport seeing as my flight was at around 8 it would be wise to get there early. I wasn't sure how busy the airport would be seeing as you aren't meant to travel but I don't think I've ever seen an airport that wasn't busy.

I made it to the airport and as I assumed it wasn't heaving but there was still a fair amount of people around. I made my way through the crowds and checked in for my flight before heading through security and then making it to the main part of the airport. That part was less busy as there is more space for people to spread out into which made me much less anxious about people being too close. I had a little while to wait for my flight so I went and got some food because I haven't eaten today, and I don't want to end up with a headache.

When it was time for my flight to board I went to the gate and got straight into my seat watching as more people boarded but not as many as I expected, it was clear that all of the people on the flight had a good reason to be going to Florida and not just going on holiday and no one was sat together so all rules were being adhered to.

My flight landed 5 hours later and everyone filed off the plane going there own way leaving me kind of lost in a place that I wasn't used to and with the anxiety of going to meet Dream for the first time. I had a bit longer to wait because I had to get an Uber to the house even though dream offered to come and pick me up I told him not to because the less people at the airport the better and just incase people recognised me I didn't want him to accidentally face reveal.

I collected my suitcase and went straight out to the car park to get in my uber who was waiting just outside the doors in the designated area for taxis. As soon as I got in the car I text Dream letting him know I was on my way and sharing my location just in case things went south.

My uber stopped outside this one house and I got out walking up the drive taking in the house number to make sure I was at the right place which I was. Thats when the nerves really kicked in, I was about to meet one of my best friends in person for the first time. This is so insane to think that after all there years we get to do all the stupid things friends do.

I got to the door and rang the doorbell waiting the few excruciating seconds before I heard movement behind it indicating that there was someone there. It opened slowly and the first person I saw was sapnap who of course I was excited to see but we have talked properly on FaceTime before so I already know what he looks like.

Next another person popped up behind pushing sapnap out the way and giving me a hug straight away I knew it had to be dream but he ran over so quick that I didn't get to take in anything other than the fact he was hugging me. He pulled away and I got to look at his face, he looked pretty much exactly how I thought he would from the descriptions I have heard. As much as wavy length doesn't sound like a thing it somehow fit his hair and his eyes were also super green, he was definitely taller than I expected though this man towered over me like it was nothing and could definitely push me to the ground in a second but he looked kind just how you want a friend to be.

After a few minutes of freaking out that this was actually happening they let me inside and gave me a tour of the house showing me my room and the set up they had put together for me with a webcam and tripod just like dream said. They finished off the tour before I was made to sit and play whatever game they wanted with them.

We played an assortment of games for hours on end before we ordered food for dinner which we ate all chilling on the sofa. I almost forgot that my followers didn't know I was here but when I remembered I stole patches from dream and got him to take a picture of me with her to post on twitter and Instagram because people would get it without me having to explain. Not much of a grand reveal considering Sapnap did the same when he got here but I didn't really have any other ideas I mean its not like I can just do dream's face reveal for him with a picture on my twitter can I. The response to my tweet was insane within minutes people had got it trending and they were freaking out with all sorts of theories of if I'd officially moved in or if I was just visiting although both were kind of right.

Having spent a few hours here now I feel very at home they boys are really welcoming making sure I'm all good and not too tired after my flight which of course I am but sleep is for the weak so I'll wait. I have been told to call the two of them by their real names unless its on stream which feels kind of odd because I'm use to calling them what their know by despite knowing their real names the whole time. They have given me a nickname which I now go by to make it fair.

It was sad when the day came to an end when we all decided it was best to get some sleep even though I think their going to stay up and they said it for my own sake because I've been yawning non stop for the past 2 hours but either way I'm going to go to sleep and this day (one of the best days of my life) will become that of a memory.

Although I don't think this day could have gone any better its consisted of everything I've ever wanted to have in a friend but none of my friends back home if you can call them friends are into the same things as me so it never works out. Now I have two friends who share the same interests and have the same god awful sleep schedule so we can stay up messing around together if we want to which is what life as a 20 year old should be like. Fun.

#dream x reader #dream #mcyt #dsmp #dream team

[panda-noosh]

unlike me {fred weasley x reader}

  Words: 8k

Summary: You, a shy Hufflepuff, have caught the eye of Fred Weasley.

Genre: fluff

Notes: support my writing or ask me about commissions! - did i just write pure fluff? wow. i’m learning.

----

  Fred Weasley doesn’t do things to impress others. He never has. Trying to please others is so far from his mind when playing one of his pranks that it’s almost laughable to think he and his twin brother do anything for the sake of attention. They live to amuse themselves, and nobody else.

    But sometimes the reactions of others do catch his eye. It happens rarely, but there have been the odd times when Fred and George are fleeing from the scene of one of their usual messy pranks, and Fred will look over to see someone standing there, staring open mouthed and wide eyed at the scene in front of them, and he will turn back to the path and smile because - yet again - he has left somebody speechless.

   More often than not these days, that person is you.

  Fred doesn’t know much about you; you’re clearly very shy, hardly ever being spotted in the hallways unless you’re making your way to your next class, and even then you’re prone to keeping your head down, refusing to talk to anybody who wants to talk to you. Fred doesn’t know if you have any friends, if you want friends, if you’ve ever looked at him and wondered what it would be like to talk to him…

   “So, Harry, tell me a bit about that one over there.”

   Harry looks up from his breakfast plate, eyes still fogged from a night of no-doubt restless sleep. Beside him, Ron is still trying to wake himself up and Hermione is hastily flipping through a gargantuan textbook. It seems to Fred like the Chosen One may be the only one at this moment in time in a fit enough state to answer his pressing questions.

   “Huh?” he replies.

  Fred leans forward a little more, so close that his mouth is very nearly touching Harry’s ear. “That one over there.” He nods over to the Hufflepuff table. “The one sitting on their own.”

 Harry narrows his eyes. “Y/N L/N? What about them?”

  “They’re in your year, aren’t they?”

  “I think so. I don’t really know too much about them; they’re quite quiet, really.”

  “Yeah,” Fred and George say together. “We know.”

  Harry raises a brow, flicking his gaze to the twins standing on either side of him. “Why? Are you both interested?”

  “Just ol’ Freddy Boy here.”

  Ron scoffs. “You? Getting in with Y/N L/N? Mate, that’s about as likely as Percy showing up for Christmas this year.”

  Fred slaps Ron on the back of the head. “Shut your mouth, you git.”

  “So, what? You really think you have a chance with them?” Harry asks.

  Fred shifts uncomfortably; he hadn’t meant for the conversation to get this far. All he wanted was for Harry to tell him a bit about you and that be it - he was fairly confident he could handle the rest on his own using his incredible charm and humour.

   But now these snotty little fifth years are making him second-guess his own abilities, which has never happened before in his seventeen years of life.

    “I think so,” he replies, trying to keep his voice as confident as possible. “Why wouldn’t I have a chance? I’m charming, and witty, and-”

  “And loud, and annoying, and centre of attention literally all the time,” Ginny finishes, waltzing into the conversation. She sits down next to Hermione, pinching a hash brown off Harry’s plate. “Y/N is the complete opposite of that. You’ll scare them away before you even get a chance to ask them out.”

   Fred frowns. George says something in his twins defence, but Fred has stopped listening, instead choosing to glance over to where you’re still sitting, smiling shyly at the Hufflepuff boy who has just taken a seat next to you. It’s clear - and always has been clear - that you get plenty of attention - you just don’t want it. Fred has watched you get shy and awkward, shuffling away from people who so much as grin in your direction. Fred has even watched you scurry away when he walks past, and at this point, he isn’t even surprised; the scenes Fred finds him in are far from the types of scenes you’ll want to be caught in.

   You really are very different people, and Fred isn’t stupid enough to deny that. Nonetheless, there’s something about you that has always caught his eye, from the day he was a puny little second year, watching you scramble up to the Sorting Hat. Even then he found himself staring at you, fingers crossed in the hopes you would get sorted into Gryffindor, that he could find an excuse to lead you to the Common Room himself - not Perfect Percy - but then you were being sorted into Hufflepuff and an awful long time went by in which Fred did nothing to pursue you.

   But now he’s in his sixth year. If not now, then when?

  “Have you ever tried speaking to them?”

   Ron’s voice snaps Fred from his daze. He looks down and shrugs.

  “Not really.”

  “That's not like you,” says Ginny. “Have we actually found someone who makes you shy?”

 Fred scowls. “I’m not shy. Y/N’s shy - I’m just respecting that and keeping my distance.”

  “Good on you, mate,” says George, before he ducks his head down and whispers loudly in Harry’s ear, “Every time he sees them, he wets himself a little.”

  Fred kicks his twin. “Would you lot give it a rest? I’ll talk to them today, alright? You’ll all see.”

  “Oh, don’t wind him up,” Hermione tuts, slapping Ron on the arm when the group of youngsters start laughing.

  “Oooh,” George says. “You’ve got Granger sticking up for you, Fred - who would have thought that would ever happen to us?”

   “I think it’s cute that Fred likes Y/N,” says Hermione, sitting up a little straighter. “I don’t know much about them, but I think someone bringing them out of their shell could do them a world of good.”

   Fred can’t help but grin; the thought of it, of you actually giving him a chance - it makes him unnervingly happy. “Cheers, Hermione.”

   Fred takes that tiny bit of assurance and carries it with him throughout the entire day - he doesn’t really know when he’s going to make his move, just that he is.

   At some point.

  He has no classes with you. He barely sees you in the hallways. He doesn’t share a common room with you - the situation is really not working in his favour, but Fred Weasley will not let such a drawback ruin his plans. He’ll find ways around it, just as he finds ways around everything.

   The solution finally comes to him at 11:00pm.

  He should be in bed. He knows he should be in bed, that if Filch were to see him right now, the old man would be going absolutely ballistic, overjoyed with the idea of giving another student a detention. Fred has the advantage of the Marauders Map, plus a lifetimes worth of sneaking around, but that doesn’t make him feel any less nervous.

  He’s been out of bed after curfew plenty of times before, but never has he crept into another common room whilst doing it.

   He heads towards the basement, checking the Marauders Map every few seconds to ensure Filch and his filthy cat are as far away as possible. His mind is working at a million miles per hour, because for the first time in his life, Fred is convinced he’s being stupid. The amount of protective charms that must be on the doors of these openings would be insane, and Fred is insane to think he could ever try and get past them, but god, he can’t go down to breakfast tomorrow without making some attempt to talk to you, just like he said he would, just like Hermione-

   “Eep!”

  Fred spins on his heel, nearly falling over a body of armour stood in the corner. Multiple paintings rouse from their sleep, and the ones that were already awake break into fits of giggles. Fred doesn’t even acknowledge the tiny noise that made him jump in the first place, instead choosing to desperately hush the paintings around him.

   “Shut up. Sh! Filch will hear and then we’re all in trouble!”

   “Speak for yourself, Weasley,” says Doogle Doolaly through a mouthful of giggles. Fred shoots the painting a glare before abruptly remembering what had caused him to stumble in the first place.

   He spins around. To his surprise, you’re still there.

  You, standing right in front of him with both hands clapped over your mouth, eyes wide. You’re wearing a pair of yellow bed robes, hair a mess. Fred has to take a minute to just stare.

   And then, “What on Earth are you doing out of bed?”

  Slowly you lower your hands, biting your lower lip as you stare right back at him; Fred, though pleased, finds this quite odd considering he’s so used to watching you avoid eye contact as much as possible. “I was walking.”

   Your voice is quiet, timid.

   Fred tilts his head. “Walking? At eleven at night?”

   “I couldn’t sleep.”

  “Me neither.”

   You nod. Fred nods back. The two of you stand a good five feet apart, unsure of what to say or do to make the silence go away - of course, there’s so many things Fred wants to ask, considering he was previously convinced you would never step out of line, but none of those questions are appearing right now.

    Fred, however, knows this silence can’t last forever, so he’s the one to make the first move in breaking it.

   “You alright?”

  You look up, startled. “I’m fine. Why?”

 “I was just wondering. You look like you’ve seen someone use an illegal curse or something.”

   “Thanks.”

 Fred’s stomach flips. “Not that you don’t look really pretty, because you do, but I’m just saying-”

   “Why were you heading towards the Hufflepuff common room?”

  Fred pauses. Have you just caught him out?

  “How did you know that’s where I was going?”

 “Because nobody else comes down here this late at night unless they’re a Hufflepuff coming back from detention.”

  “You’re good at this, you know. Right little detective, you are.”

   You shrug.

  Fred sighs, rubs the back of his neck before saying, “I was just having an innocent little dander about. Those Gryffindor sixth years can be a rowdy bunch - it’s hard to get to sleep.”

   “Oh. Okay.” You trace your eyes along his towering form, and for a moment, Fred is almost convinced you’re genuinely checking him out. It boosts his confidence a little. “Well, I’m sorry you couldn’t sleep. I’m also sorry for making so much noise - you startled me.”

   “Yeah, well, I’m a pretty scary person I’ve been told.”

  Your lips twitch. “Who told you that?”

   He shrugs. “It’s not so much a verbal thing. Sometimes sweet little Hufflepuff’s run away when they make eye contact with me.” He raises a brow, smirks when he sees your own smile fade, replaced by a mild look of embarrassment because you both know exactly who Fred is talking about.

   You cough and awkwardly kick at the floor. “Sometimes sweet little Hufflepuff’s get a little shy.”

   Fred’s confidence is really flooding back into his system now, and he doesn’t know why it feels different. This isn’t the confidence he carries around with him on a day-to-day basis, the confidence that allows him to play these big pranks without a care in the world. This is a type of confidence he has never felt before, makes him feel elated, like he can do anything.

   He smirks, folding his arms across his chest. “I’m Fred Weasley, by the way.”

  “I know.” Your eyes pop open for a brief second. “I mean - uh - Ron. Ron is your brother, right?”

  “He is.”

 “I know your brother. He’s in my year. Goalkeeper for the Gryffindor Quidditch team, right?”

 “Right.”

 You nod, biting your lower lip in that way Fred has learned you do quite often when you’re flustered. “I heard of you - uh - from him. Yeah.”

  Fred nods. He stares at your flustered form, finding amusement in the way you quickly look to the floor, trying desperately to avoid his gaze which has apparently now become too much for you.

  He chuckles and pushes himself away from the wall he found himself leaning upon. “It was lovely talking to you, Hufflepuff. Try not to run away next time and maybe we can talk again.”

   You look up and nod, lips twitching. Fred grins right back, bows his head to you before he walks off down the corridor, pretty darn pleased with himself.

  ----

   “So how did it go?”

  “I don’t kiss and tell.”

  Ginny gasps, slapping Fred on the arm when her, Fred and George sit down to breakfast the next morning. “You kissed?”

   Fred snickers. “No. But we spoke, and it was great. Y/N L/N is actually a bit of a rule breaker.”

 Ginny raises a brow, reaching across George for a slice of toast. “Shut up.”

  “He’s telling the truth,” says George, at the same time Fred says, “I’m telling the truth.”

   “Wow. What were they doing to break the rules?”

 “Walking about after curfew. Lucky I was there, or else Filch would have had them.”

   Ginny scoffs. “Because god forbid anyone be as sneaky as you two.”

  “Exactly,” the twins reply.

   “So what was the conversation like?” Ginny prods. She wears a distracted gaze in the hopes that Fred won’t see just how curious she really is, but Fred sees right through her.

   “It wasn’t bad,” he replies. “A bit short, but that’s easily fixed.”

  “So you want to keep talking to them?”

  Fred raises a brow. “Of course I do.”

  Ginny hums around the slice of toast in her mouth. “Cute, Fred. Cute.”

  Fred opens his mouth to give a sarcastic retort, but gets abruptly distracted by the sight of you rising from the Hufflepuff table. He sits bolt upright, craning his neck to see over the heads of everybody else; you don’t spare him a glance, apparently retreating back to your usual, shy self. With your head ducked down and your books piled in your arms, you hastily make your way towards the exit.

    Fred is standing up before he can even process he’s moved. Ginny and George watch him, both smiling maniacally as Fred utters a half-hearted goodbye and follows after you. He really has no plans for what he could possibly say when he finally catches up, but he’s decided to take every opportunity he possibly can.

   He bustles out of the Great Hall, finding you only a few seconds after as you head back towards the Hufflepuff common room.

  “Y/N!”

  You freeze, spinning around as Fred jumps onto the step just below the one you’re currently standing on. He pants dramatically, clutching his chest.

   “You move quick.”

 You glance over his shoulder, hugging your books a little tighter. “Hi, Fred. How was breakfast?”

  “Oh, good. Great, actually. I - uh - had toast.”

  “Sounds nice.”

  “Yeah.” He straightens up, rubbing the back of his neck; why is he suddenly nervous? “Where are you off to?”

  “I have to go grab some books for my first few classes,” you reply, and Fred can’t help but note the slight tinge of amusement in your voice. “Where are you off to?”

  Fred pauses; again, this was not something he necessarily thought through when he first decided to follow you out here. He really just wanted a chat, to hear your voice one more time before he was forced to go to classes.

   He folds his arms over his chest as nonchalantly as he can manage, leaning against the banister. “I don’t think it’s right for a lovely wizard like yourself to be walking to class on your own; I thought I’d offer my services.”

    You raise a brow, once again taking a cautious glance over Fred’s shoulder to ensure nobody is around to hear his flirtations; nonetheless, you make no attempt to stop him, which he takes as a relatively good sign. “Well, you can walk me to class if you like. I have to get my books first, though.”

 Fred gestures up the stairs. “Lead the way.”

  And so you do. Fred follows you all the way to the Hufflepuff common room, where he is forced to wait outside whilst you gather your belongings. His stomach grumbles, evidence of his uneaten breakfast, but he doesn’t even care right now. Not when you walk out of the common room, all smiles and nervous glances. Fred offers you his arm, and it’s with only the slightest bit of hesitation that you take it and allow Fred to lead you back through the school hallways.

   “What is it like in there?” he asks.

   “In where?”

  “The Hufflepuff common room. Surely you can hear all the house elves rattling about in the kitchens at night.”

   You shake your head. “The walls are soundproof; did you know Muggles have soundproof things as well?”

  Fred raises a brow. “You’re not obsessed with Muggle stuff, are you? My dad’s into all that stuff - I’ve heard enough of it for a lifetime.”

   You giggle, and Fred is fairly certain his hand starts trembling.

   “No, I’m not obsessed,” you say. “I do find some of it interesting, though. The similarities between our world and theirs.”

  “Are there many? Similarities, I mean.”

  You shrug. Looking to the side, Fred can see your face suddenly change; what once was an expression of nerves and uncertainty is now one of interest and intrigue as Fred asks you questions on a topic you are clearly very invested in. It makes his heart lift, and he has to bite his lower lip to stop the smile from spreading and making it too obvious.

   “A few I’ve picked up on,” you reply. “They still - like - wear clothes and stuff. Just different styles. And they live in houses, and go to school-”

  “School? Don’t insult Hogwarts like that. Muggle school and wizard school aren’t even comparable.”

   You furrow your brows, glancing up at Fred. “But they still learn.”

   “Not the important stuff. Not like we do.”

  “And what would you consider important?”

  Fred hums, gazing wistfully into the distance. You giggle again. Finally, he says “aha!” and clicks, whirling on you. “Right, tell me this - do Muggles learn Defense Against the Dark Arts?”

  You frown, grip tightening on his arm. “I don’t think so. They don’t have magic, so it would be a bit pointless, wouldn’t it?”

  “Ah, but it’s important. What are they gonna do if a Dementor comes knocking on their front door?”

  “There’s nothing they can do, even if they knew the basic stuff we know. They don’t have magic, Fred.”

  Fred grunts. “Must be a hard life having to do everything by hand.”

   “I agree.”

  Fred chuckles, glancing down at you. Your eyes meet his for a fraction of a second before you bite your bottom lip and avert your gaze.

   “Go on then,” Fred continues. “Tell me some more similarities. You’ve got me interested now.”

   “Really?”

  “Mm.”

  You tilt your head in thought. “Well. . . I suppose the way their government system works is quite similar to ours.”

   “Explain.”

  “They have people in power. A system of higher-up’s, if you will, who control everything.”

  “Is theirs as corrupt as ours?”

  “Oh, definitely. Sometimes I’d even argue they’re even more corrupt than ours.”

  Fred’s eyes pop open. “Blimey. How has the Muggle world not completely broken down?”

   You laugh. Full-on laugh, eyes squinting closed and head thrown back. Fred can’t even bring himself to laugh alongside you, suddenly too engrossed in your enjoyment to indulge in his own.

   You hiccough yourself back to reality before looking up and saying, “Surely your dad could teach you all this stuff if he’s so interested in Muggle affairs?”

   “He’s interested, but he’s also a bit oblivious. Doesn’t matter how many times Harry tells him what a telephone is, he still has no idea how it all works.” Fred shrugs. “Plus, I enjoy my lessons much more when you’re teaching them.”

   You stiffen, lower lip hiding - yet again - behind your teeth. You swallow thickly, and before Fred can do anything, you’re unwinding your arm from his and picking up your pace, calling a quick, “I’m gonna be late!” over your shoulder. Fred falters mid-way, staring after you with his mouth dropped open and confusion making his stomach churn.

   Someone crashes into his shoulder as you round the corner. “Nice one, mate.”

  “Shut up, George.”

   “It doesn’t look like it’s going too well.”

 “It’s - it’s going fine.” Fred curses under his breath - now you’ve got him stuttering? “They’re just a little shy. But I think they like me.”

    “Oh yes, the most obvious sign of attraction - running away.”

   ----

   Fred is beginning to get very tired of his classes.

  He’s only here for the sake of his mothers sanity; god only knows how Molly Weasley would react if he showed up at the Burrow six months early, claiming he was finished with school before he’d even managed to bag an acceptable amount of N.E.W.T’s.

   But he doesn’t want to be here any more. He’s getting tired of forcing himself to listen to things he only half cares about, getting tired of being told off for things that - honestly - the teachers should just be used to by now. It’s not like they haven’t seen it for the past six years.

   He grunts to himself as he and George walk out of History of Magic. Yet another boring lesson that seemed to drag on much longer than necessary; all Fred has to prove he was there at all is the doodle of a cat in the top hand corner of his notebook.

   “I need a sleep,” George says. “His bloody voice exhausts me.”

  Fred opens his mouth to respond, but his twin brother cuts him off by slapping a hand to his arm and pointing straight ahead.

  Startled, Fred looks up. Standing by the gargoyle just outside History of Magic is you, hugging your books whilst awkwardly looking back and forth, as if afraid one of the passing students is going to stop and harass you.

  George snickers. “Go on, mate. I think they’re looking for you.”

  Before Fred can object, get himself together, George shoves him forward hard enough to make him stumble. Your head snaps up at the sound of Fred saying “You git!” and Fred is quick to lean against the wall, look at you and say, coolly, “Y/N. What a pleasant surprise.”

   You stand up a little straighter, lips twitching. “Hi. How was class?”

  “Boring.” He smirks. “Much better now that you’re here, though.”

  The unmistakable sound of George snorting as he passes by floats between you. You smile, giving Fred’s brother a nod before you turn back to Fred and say, “Do you fancy taking a little walk before break ends?”

   Of all the things Fred expected to happen today, you asking him on a walk was certainly not one of them. It takes him a second to reply, and it’s only the realisation that you’re probably just as nervous as he is that he snaps out of it and nods.

   You wind your arm through his without him having to offer; his cheeks are burning.

  Together, you set off down the hall. It’s quiet for a little bit, Fred still trying to figure out what’s happening, and you inspecting each and every one of the sculptures you pass, as if too afraid to look over at Fred.

    Finally, however, you break the silence. “I’m sorry about earlier.”

   Fred’s stomach jolts. “What are you sorry for?”

  “For how I reacted. You were just being nice and I - uh - I don’t really know how to handle that kind of thing.”

  Fred perks an eyebrow, glancing down at you with genuine curiosity. “I find that very hard to believe.” Because he does. He finds it downright unbelievable that compliments are not something you have grown used to across the five years spent in Hogwarts.

   You shrug. “Well, believe it. I really appreciated what you said, but I just. . . I don’t know how to respond, or if you’re telling the truth-”

 “I was definitely telling the truth.”

   You bite your lip. “I shouldn’t have ran off like that. It must have made you feel awful.”

 Classic Hufflepuff behaviour - thinking more about other people’s feelings than their own.

  “You know,” Fred drawls, “if my flirting makes you uncomfortable, just tell me and I’ll stop.”

   “No!”

  Fred’s eyes snap down. You look back up at him, eyes wide before you realise the abruptness of your protestation and hastily avert your gaze to the floor.

  “No,” you say, softer now. “I - uh - I don't think you should stop. I quite like it, actually.”

  Fred smirks, keeping his eyes trained on you even as you fight desperately to look anywhere but him. “Do you fancy me, Y/N L/N?”

  “Oh, give me a break, Fred.”

   “I think you do.” He rubs his cheek against your own. “Just a little bit.”

  You jerk away, slapping his arm. “Well, it’s not bloody difficult, is it?”

  Fred falters, though his smile only widens. “What does that mean?”

  You groan, pulling your arm from his yet again. Fred stumbles back, unable to help the laugh that bursts from his throat at the sight of your flustered state.

   “I’m going to class,” you announce.

  “You didn’t answer my question!”

   “I don’t have an answer to your question.” You stand there a little longer. With a smile still beaming, Fred watches as you take a single step forward, a step back, another step forward-

  And then, as if telling yourself to just get it over with, you jump forward and press your lips to Fred’s cheek. His jaw drops open, but he doesn’t get the chance to say anything before you’re spinning on your heel and rushing away, rounding the corner without so much as a wave in his direction.

   Fred swallows thickly, reaching up to brush his fingers against the area you have just kissed, just like they do in those cheesy Muggle movies his mum is so fond of. He can’t believe the feeling that comes with it - his heart is going to explode.

    Oh, no…

   ----

   The Hufflepuff table is boring compared to the Gryffindor table. That’s the first thing Fred notices.

  Maybe it’s because his friends aren’t with him. Maybe it’s because George flat-out refused to accompany him. Maybe it’s because Fred is nervous, and he’s angry about it, because since when has Fred Weasley ever been nervous about anything?

   This morning, however, he is pushed on by the memory of your lips against his cheek. That is his only source of motivation, the only reason he doesn’t flick Ernie MacMillan on the back of the head when the Hufflepuff boy turns and scowls at the Gryffindor student currently making his way towards you, sat at the very end.

  You have yet to look up from your textbook. Fred takes great pleasure in wrapping his arms around your shoulders, your body jumping back against his in your shock. He leans down and chuckles in your ear, moving his head so you can see his clearly amused features.

   Immediately your eyes widen. “Fred! What are you doing here?”

 “I thought I’d come have breakfast with you.” He waves his wand; a sausage springs up from Ernie’s plate, which he catches before biting into. “Like a date.”

    You bite your lip. “Do you want to sit down?”

 “Uh, Y/N?” Ernie calls over as Fred takes the empty seat next to you; he doesn’t miss the way you barely look up when you hum in response to Ernie’s - quite frankly - rude call of your name. “You know the houses have to eat together. He’s breaking the rules.”

   You shyly look up. “Oh, Ernie, let him sit down…”

 “Yeah Ernie,” Fred jeers. “Let me sit down, you nosy little git.”

   You choke on the pumpkin juice you just lifted to your mouth, spinning in your seat to hide the amused smile growing uncontrollably upon your face. Fred grins, placing his hands on your shoulders.

  “Did you like that?”

 “You’re impossible,” you hiss, slapping his arm. “Just ignore him. He’s got a grudge against anyone who plays for Gryffindor.”

 “Yeah, I know.” Fred narrows his eyes, craning his neck a little to see over your shoulder, where Ernie sits with a scowl on his face. “He better not give you a hard time for hanging out with me, you know. You’d tell me if he was?”

    You shift so you’re covering Ernie’s face and are now the centre of Fred’s attention. “Of course I would. Plus, Ernie doesn’t scare me.”

   “I’ll certainly scare him if he so much as-”

 “Fred,” you laugh, nudging his knee beneath the table. His eyes drift back to you, his body immediately relaxing at the sight of your glowing smile. “Calm down, okay? He’s got nothing against me - it’s you and the Gryffindor team he’s got a problem with.”

   “Is that supposed to make me hate him any less?”

  You shrug, plucking Fred’s hands from your shoulders and placing a hash brown between his fingertips. “He’s got a point, you know. You are breaking the rules by sitting here.”

   Fred raises a brow. “Right, I’ll leave if you-”

  “No!” You latch onto his arm, pulling him back to the bench as Fred bursts into yet another round of raucous laughter at how easily flustered you become. “No, you should stay. Dumbledore isn’t even looking.”

   “If I was any less wise, L/N, I’d think you want me to have breakfast with you.”

   “I just don’t get to see that much of you,” you mumble.

  Fred coos; he’s trying so hard to keep up the fun-guy persona, putting on a mask of confidence despite the speed at which his heart is hammering in his chest at the moment. You make it so easy for him to feel this way, too easy, because sure, Fred has had crushes on people before, but never has he put himself out like this. Never has he wanted to make someone laugh so much. Never has he been so proud of being the reason for someone else’s smile.

    Fred leans forward, lowering his voice. “That’s very cute.”

  “Yeah, well…”

   He chuckles, flicking your heated cheek before he takes a bite from the slice of toast you’re holding. You jolt upright immediately, swatting him away with a glare. “Hey!”

   He licks the butter noisily from his fingers. “Yummy.”

  You roll your eyes. “Get your own breakfast.”

  “But yours is so much tastier.”

   You grab another slice of toast from your plate and push it against Fred’s lips. He opens his mouth, takes a bite and hums appreciatively.    

   And then the world stops.

   It really is like those scenes in those cheesy movies his mum watches all the time, where the room seems to go still and it’s like nobody else exists. Your fingers hover inches away from his face, your eyes cast to his lips where the slice of toast has just disappeared. Fred swallows, his own eyes drawn to your lips, slightly parted, so soft looking-

    “Weasley! What do you think you’re doing sitting at the Hufflepuff table! Get back to where you belong right this instant!”

   McGonagall grabs a fistful of his robes, pulling him up from the bench. Fred gasps, stumbling up with his eyes still locked on you. You hastily look back down at the table, pushing hair out of your eyes, trying to avoid being told off by the Deputy Head.

   “Awk, lay off, Professor!” Fred exclaims. “I was having fun!”

  “You were breaking the rules, Mr Weasley. You can integrate with your pals whenever breakfast has finished, but until then-”

   “Yeah, yeah,” Fred grumbles, giving you one last glance. It’s to his utter relief that he sees you looking back at him, a tiny smile on your face. Fred winks before McGonagall shoves him forward, back into his seat at the Gryffindor table.

   ----

   When Fred receives your note, he is sat in the Gryffindor common room with George.

  Homework litters the table in front of them, unfinished and not understood by either of them. Hermione had long since gone to bed, insisting she wasn’t going to help people who didn’t want to help themselves. And so, the twins sat up until the late hours of the night, staring at their homework with a sense of frustration building between them.

   Fred feels certain he’s going to snap at any given moment; this whole school thing really isn’t working out for him nor George, and the two of them have such prestigious dreams that sitting in a classroom all day just feels like a waste of time. Maybe that’s why he can’t bring himself to properly concentrate on his lessons. Maybe that’s why neither he nor George care as much about grades as all his other siblings.

   “Right, so clearly Flitwick was on something when he wrote this,” says George, scowling at his charms homework. “He didn’t even mention flying charms last lesson, so why has he-”

   The fireplace suddenly erupts.

  Both Fred and George jump at the sudden interruption, swivelling round in their chairs to catch a glimpse of what has happened; they both know full well the kinds of things these fireplaces can permit, and neither of them want to deal with anything too dangerous at this time of night.

    In the fire, however, is not the face of a Death Eater, or anything close to such - instead, a single piece of paper sits in the ashes, Fred’s name printed in bold across the top.

   The twins frown at each other. George makes a suggestive gesture, all but shoving Fred closer for inspection.

  Fred stumbles, sends George a glare before he bends down and picks the piece of paper up. Immediately the handwriting is recognisable by the lazy flick of the letters, how effortlessly neat it looks. It would take Fred hours to write a note that looks like this, and yet he’s watched you scribbling notes down; this is undoubtedly your doing.

   Suddenly he’s smiling.

  “Oh, here we go,” George groans, noticing his twins expression. “You’re sending love notes to each other now?”

   “Shut up.” Fred sinks down into one of the armchairs, reading your note thoroughly. “Y/N wants to meet up.”

  “Right now?”

   “Mhm.”

  George raises a brow. “Have you two even kissed yet?”

 Fred’s eyes snap up, cheeks heating before he can stop them. He never ever gets flustered around George, but the mention of such a thing has his stomach flipping. “Why do you care?”

   George raises his hands in mock surrender. “Never said I did, mate, but the smile on your face right now would suggest at least a peck on the cheek or something.”

   Fred scowls. “No, we haven’t kissed. We’re not even properly together, so drop it.”

   “How does that make sense? You both fancy each other-”

   “Yeah, but it’s nothing official.” Fred lazily flicks his hand, clicking his fingers so the note folds itself into a perfect square and zips into his robe pocket. “You wouldn’t understand these things, Georgie Boy. You’ve got to take it slow.”

   Goerge scoffs, throwing a pencil at Fred. “Very bloody slow apparently. But I forgot, it’s a Hufflepuff you’ve got your eye on. They tend to be a bit hard-to-get, don’t they?”

   Fred opens his mouth to protest, to stick up for you, but he can’t even deny the truth in George’s words; a fair amount of time has passed since the two of you first started talking, and all you’ve done is say you enjoy his company. There’s been no kissing, no hand-holding, nothing even close to being considered romantic.

   Fred is okay with this, of course. He’s in that very weird head space where even just being in your presence is enough to satisfy him; he catches glimpses of you as you parade from one class to another, and that is enough until he sees you again at lunch, or dinner, or during breaks.

   He sighs, pushing himself up from the armchair. “Don’t wanna leave them waiting, do I?”

  George scowls. “What about our homework?”

  “We’ll be fine.”

  “I’m not covering for you if Flitwick asks what you were up to that’s more important than his homework assignments.”

 Fred grins, not even giving a response as he clambers out of the common room and ducks into the hallways.

  He knows exactly where to go, even though he’s never met up with you after hours before - not since the first time, which he doesn’t even count considering it was entirely an accident. To this day, he still isn’t convinced that wasn’t some type of dream - a Hufflepuff, out of bed after hours? Not a single soul would believe him if he told them.

   Fred makes his way down the corridor and grins when he sees you standing there; you’re much braver than him. Fred, personally, feels much safer when he’s wading through the halls - it makes it more difficult for Filch to catch him if he’s not stationary. You, however, seem to have no issue with standing behind a suit of armour, waiting patiently for Fred to round the corner.

   “Hola. Bonjour. Hello. Hi.”

   You look round, face immediately lighting up. “Fred! Hi!”

  He’ll never get used to that greeting.

   “Y/N! Hi!” he mimics. “I got your note.”

  “Good. Great. I was worried I did it wrong.”

   “You? Do something wrong?” Fred screws his face up in an expression of mock confusion, which prompts you to roll your eyes and nudge him. He grins, stuffs his hands in his pockets and says, “Out after curfew again, eh? Have I finally corrupted you?”

   “You must have,” you reply.

   Fred tilts his head. “What’s the actual reason you invited me out?”

   And that’s when your expression shifts.

   You bite your lower lip in that way you always do, eyes darting to the ground awkwardly. Fred raises a brow, leaning forward a bit in his attempt to get you to look at him again, but you suddenly seem much too embarrassed to even be giving Fred the time of day. His stomach flips with uncharacteristic anxiety, and he can’t stop himself when he steps forward and places a gentle hand on your elbow.

   “Hey. Did something happen?”

  The words burst out of you in one breath. “I left my book in the bathing room and I’m too scared to get it myself but I really need it to help me sleep, so I was wondering if you could help me get through the hallways without Filch knowing and then I promise you can go back to bed and never speak to me again.”

   You take a sharp breath before looking away again, apparently too embarrassed by your request to even look at him.

   Fred takes a moment to reply. He has to untangle your words first, and then he has to bask in his amusement at how embarrassed you were by asking it; personally, he doesn’t see the problem. He’s happy to help. In fact, he’d be pretty annoyed if it wasn’t him you were asking.

   “Alright.”

  Your eyes snap up. “Really? I mean, you don’t have to, I just thought - well, you know your way around, and you’ve dealt with Filch-”

  “You don’t need to explain.” He offers his arm, just as he always does. “What book is it?”

 And it’s with only the tiniest bit of hesitance that you take his offered arm and allow him to guide you through the corridors he apparently knows so well; in truth, he doesn’t tend to go out after curfew all that often, because he gets all of his mischief done in the day time now. But you were indeed correct in saying he knows this place better than anyone else. He and George spent the majority of their school careers finding secret passageways and little hiding spots they could use at any given time. As he listens to you talk about the book he’s about to try and save, he recalls each and every one of these hiding places whilst keeping a sharp ear out for Filch.

   The two of you arrive at the bathing rooms and Fred pushes open the door. It squeaks, and you wince, glancing at Fred anxiously; he merely places a hand on the small of your back, pushing you further into the room.

   He follows, closes the door and exhales heavily. “Made it. Now where’s that book you’ve lost?”

   You skitter around the edge of the massive bathing pool; it’s still filled to the brim with forever hot water, always clean despite the amount of people washing themselves within it on a daily basis. Fred stands on the edge, hands stuffed in his pockets as he watches you rush to the far side of the room, rummage around in a basket of towels before pulling a particularly thick book out from beneath them.

   You look over, smiling broadly with the book pressed against your chest.

  Fred raises a brow. “Happy now?”

 “Overjoyed.”

 You skip back over to him, pulling open the front cover to look inside. Fred leans forward, reading the confusing inside blurb over your shoulder.

   “And you use this for a bit of light reading in the bath?” he asks.

  Startled, you slam the book closed. “It’s good, honestly.”

  “I’ll take your-”

   Fred’s sentence is cut off by the sound of Filch yelling.

  And it’s unmistakably Filch yelling, because Fred has heard it many, many times before. It always comes with that initial rush of panic, the realisation he’s been caught, and if he was with anybody else, that initial panic wouldn’t have even lasted. Now, however, he takes one look at your slack face, the horror swimming in your eyes, and he realises this is the first time you’ll have ever gotten in trouble with the caretaker.

   A traumatic experience for anyone.

  “Oh, god,” you whisper, dropping the book with a SLAM. You jump, scrambling to pick it up, but the noise only seems to draw Filch closer to the door. Fred has to think now.

   He groans low under his breath, fumbling beneath his robes for his wand - a wand that has been left on the table back in the Gryffindor common room.

  You jolt back up straight, hugging the book to your chest, and that’s when Fred does the one thing he can think to do right now - he grabs your arms and pushes you back, jumping into the deep end of the bath with you alongside him.

    He holds you close, opening his eyes as much as he possibly can. He can hear Filch’s yelling from above, aggravated screams of “I know you’re in here! I know you’re in here! I heard you!” Fred simply pulls you closer, urging you to hold your breath for as long as possible.

   But he can see you panicking, the air leaving you. He can see your lips threatening to split open so you can scream or cry or breathe, Fred doesn’t know, but he can’t let you do it. Not right now.

   Without magic, there’s only one thing he can think to do.

  He presses his lips to your own and pries your mouth open. He doesn’t know how this works. He read about it once in a Muggle Studies book, but he never thought he would ever actually need to pay attention to the details. He takes your relaxing body as a good sign, tightening his hold on your shoulders as he continues to breathe as much air into your mouth as he can possibly muster.

    And then the door is slamming, and Filch’s screams are muted behind the gold plating, and Fred immediately lets go of you and bursts to the surface.

   You follow, gasping for air, wiping water out of your eyes along with fat strands of wet hair. Fred pants, wiping his eyes roughly, trying so hard to find words for an apology but unable to gather enough breath to even think proper thoughts at the moment.

   His heartbeat soars. He looks over at you; you’re already looking at him, and the entire room is silent besides your synchronised panting breaths.

   You shove past the water, into his arms, and kiss him.

   Fred’s eyes pop open wide, but his arms wind around your waist almost instinctively. His lips mould against yours, and once the initial shock has passed, his eyes are slipping closed and he’s falling, falling, drowning, never wanting to resurface ever again.

   You pull away first. Water drips from your bottom lip, your eyelashes, your chin, and Fred has never seen a sight so beautiful. He reaches forward, swiping his thumb along your lower lip before he leans forward and gives you a final peck.

    “Always full of surprises, you are,” he whispers.

  ----

   Fred watches you. Leaning against the door frame with his arms folded across his chest, he watches as you run the towel down your face, grumbling beneath your breath about how impossible it will be to explain your soaked robes to Professor Sprout.

   Fred hasn’t even stopped to properly think about how the two of you are meant to get back to your respective common rooms without someone noticing; you’ll surely leave a trail of water in your wake, and Filch is already on high alert. Despite this, Fred can only focus on the kiss the two of you have just shared, and what it means for the future.

    You sigh, slamming the towel down and turning. There’s an adorable pout on your face, eyebrows furrowed, hair still soaked and clinging to your skin.

   “That really was a shock,” you say.

  Fred chuckles. “Just the bit where we took a swim?”

   “And the bit where you saved me from drowning.”

  “And the bit when we resurfaced and you-”  

   You groan, waving your hands in front of you as if swatting a fly. “Awk, don’t. I never do anything like that. I probably did it all wrong-”

  “You didn’t.”

  “Kissing is just something I never got the hang of. I’ve only done it a few times, because I don’t really tend to like people that way, but-”

  “But I’m a special case?”

  You scowl, deflating. “You know you are.”

  Fred grins that cheeky grin of his, pushing away from the door. He wades towards you and stops only when he’s close enough that you have to crane your neck to look into his eyes. “I think you got the hang of kissing perfectly fine. You’re a bloody natural.”

   You blink. “Yeah?”

  “Yes.” With that, Fred leans down and presses his lips to your own. It’s only slow, slow enough that Fred can feel you melt into him, your rib cage suddenly coming against his own, your fingertips brushing delicately against his waist. It’s adorable, feeling you lose yourself like this, barely registering what is actually happening.

   He pulls away just as slow, so you can feel everything when he does so. Your eyes stay closed for a second before opening, lower lip retreating between your teeth, face hot when Fred brings his hands up to your jaw.

   “Does - Okay, well, stupid question, but does this make us a couple?” you ask.

  Fred laughs. “If you want, yeah.”

  “Do you -”

  “Oh, Y/N, don’t even ask that; you know full well I want to be your boyfriend. Full. Well.”

   A grin splits your face. “Okay.”

  “Yeah?”

  You nod, wrapping your arms around his middle and placing your chin in the centre of his chest. “Yeah.”

#harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter fanfic #harry potter fic #fred weasley #harry potter x reader #fred weasley fanfiction #fred weasley fanfic #fred weasley fic #fred weasley x reader #weasley twins #weasley twins fanfiction #weasley twins fanfic #weasley twins x reader #weasley twins fic

[aelingalathyniusrailme]

If you find me on the edge, we’ll jump together.

Pirate au pt 4

azriel was so insanely close to sucker punching berdara. but unfortunately the bargain forbid him from hurting her until after they found the huge hall

he was heading towards his own ship when gwyneth stopped him. “pick your best men I can fit 5 maximum of you on my ship” 

“and why exactly are we taking your ship” 

“and why are you determined to be difficult” he nearly laughed at that, him difficult when she had spent the last 10 minutes toying with him at every chance. 

“I am determined to be fair, we’ll play for it” 

that peaked her interest as her eyes went wide “sword fighting, combat, cards, good old fashioned fists?!?” what was with this girl and fighting.

“uh no I was going to suggest rock paper scissors.” 

“who hurt you to make you so damn boring” 

“who made you a masochist” 

gwyneth didn’t falter for a second “wouldn’t you like to know” she said with a lazy grin

“so majesty are we going to play or not?” 

“best of three”

she put her fist up in answer. 

once again I’ll cut to the chase, after many rounds and accused cheatings azriel won 

“Oh fuck off” she grumbled while he smirked triumphantly 

“that’s not very nice gwyneth” obviously her response was to give him the finger

“bite me” 

“don’t give me any ideas” 

“do what you need to do we leave at dawn” 

“you’re going to be a delight on my ship aren’t you” 

“always am” with that they went back to their respective crews and ships to prepare. 

now that she had left to her own ship azriel thought over what had just happened. he wasn’t so much of a fool that he couldn’t admit she was  beautiful, with hair of flaming locks and a slightly insane look in her eye. there was something about her that despite being incredibly violent she radiated a certain amount of joy. every insult, every quip was said with a bright smile on her face. and she had pinned him with an alarming amount of ease but he wouldn’t let that happen a second time

and fucking hell he had made a bargain. well he knew for sure this journey was going to be something else alright 

on the shadowsinger azriel made an announcement to his crew “everyone sit your asses down and listen up. 5 ladies from the silver majesty are coming aboard our ship to assist us in our search for the huge hall. I am under bargain that no harm will come to any of them, so by affiliation every person aboard the shadowsinger is under the same bargain. you have any questions, take it up with rhys and cassian. I have shit to do in preparation for this voyage and to make sure our other ‘business partners’ stay up and running in our absence. do not bother me” 

about an hour later he was once again alone in his chambers with his first mate and quartermaster. 

“so you really believe they can lead us to it” cassian asked

“I believe that she made a bargain and knows the severity of a bargain.” 

“you bound yourself to the captain of our biggest rival, who you currently want to murder, captain I trust you with my life but I hope you know what you’ve gotten us into” rhys ever the strategist 

I hope so to he thought instead he said “I have thought over every possible outcome and we will come out of this with the huge hall and their heads strung up like trophies nailed to the wall.” 

————— gwyn’s pov at the same moment—————

alright crew fortunately the shadowsinger is on board, pun not intended, unfortunately I lost rock paper scissors and now I will be choosing 5 of us to join them in our hunt for the huge hall. so Em, archeron, VIv, and cressieda you guys are coming with me, bring only as many weapons as you can fit on your person. nuala cerridwen you guys are in charge. if everything is not in order by the time I get back I will start slitting throats. there are instructions in my chambers. so fuck, drink, steal, kill you guys know the drill.” 

gwyn sat with nesta and emerie strategizing 

“how do you see this playing out” nesta asked 

“oh we are going to walk away from this bleeding money with the shadowsinger kneeling at our feet” 

------------------------back to azriel’s pov------------------------

azriel watched as for the first time since he had become a pirate, there were women on his ship indefinitely. to gwyneth’s right stood a tall slender women, with her hair in a simple braid, she was assessing his ship with eyes that looked far too old for her age

to berdara’s left was a thin women with eyes that cut through him, they were sharp and very resentful. she was devastatingly beautiful with two katanas at her hips. behind them were two women with white hair but their differences lay in their skin tone. one had the fair skin of the winter court while the other had dark skin that contrasted her hair marking her as from the summer court. 

azriel looked over to his own crew. cassian was starring at the female with the swords practically drooling over himself while rhys looked indifferent. 

lucien was also starring at the women to gwyneth’s left but he looked at her like he recognized her rather then whatever the fuck cassian was doing 

the women noticed cassian and immediately threw a dagger at his head. it didn’t miss by much. 

“hey!” cassian shouted. “if you had chopped off my hair I swear to fucking god I will rip out your throat like its nothing” 

the girl looked him up and down and ignored him. “really you could have killed me”

so obviously she threw another one. it fell right between his arm and ribs

“berdara can I have a word please?”

“of course”

“rhys please make sure they don’t kill each other” 

“no promises” he replied not looking up

gwyn followed him into his room. 

“so shadowsinger, what do you want to talk about?” she gave him a light punch on the shoulder. he glared at her

“what do I want to talk about? hmm how about that girl just threw a dagger at my quartermaster. twice!”

“ok 1 that girls name is nesta and 2 if she wanted him dead he would be. so I consider that a great success” gwyn smiled earnestly. 

“are you forgetting the bargain we just made?”

“clearly threats were not taking off the table or have you forgotten ‘i will dump you in the river’ or ‘i’m going to shoot you in the head’ or ‘i will leave your guts across the 7 courts’ etc. hers was just a little more physical thats all.” 

“well can you try to control your crew” cheap shot but worth it, until gwyn broke out into a fit of laughter.

“me? control nesta? I thought you said you’ve heard the stories, you must have heard about the time she climbed 6 mountains in 5 different courts to find a man who ripped her off by 2 coppers. coppers! and I was all ‘that’s my girl’  because if there was one thing I’ve learned in this business it would be that men will take every single opportunity to tear you down but they can’t do that if they don’t have limbs.” 

“great so your entire crew is just as insane as you are”

“we maybe insane but at least we aren’t crying over every dagger that comes within an inch of our hearts.” 

“yes I’m sorry we would rather not fucking die”

“oh poor you, you must be a truly terrible pirate if death doesn’t stop at your door every once in a while.” 

“you know I am very much regretting working with you at this moment”

“wait you aren’t in love with me? shocker.” gwyn’s whole demeanor changed and she brightened as if some realization struck. “but that reminds me I was told I need your help to find the treasure and I certainly don’t need more man power so how will you be contributing?”

“I had thought about that and I was think about something you-”

“aww you think about me?” azriel rolled his eyes

“I was thinking about something you said and I would like you to elaborate on the blank map.”

“no please?”

“please” he forced out 

“well my informant who found me the map has never been wrong before and my witch says it reeks of magic.” 

“you think its spelled.” 

“I do”

“and you think I am going to help you uncover the magic?”

“indubitably” azriel was kind of impressed by her certainty

“aren’t you?”

“yes” he grumbled

“thought so, I’m smart like that.” 

“of course you are perfect in every way possible” 

“look any other day I would love for you to shower me in accurate compliments but we are kind of on a time crunch” 

“yes majesty”

“you know what its kind of growing on me, I too consider myself a queen” 

az ignored that and went to his closet. he opened the doors and unlocked the safe taking out the only thing in there. it was a small vile that contained a vibrant blue liquid. he gently carried it over to gwyn

“this is the last liquid fashioned by the last pheonix to ever exist”

“oh my fucking god you have pheonix piss” gwyn was practically jumping with glee. 

“I mean I wouldn’t exactly put it that way but yes, the liquid of the pheonix was said to act as a serum to reveal ones truth. it should be powerful enough to break through any ward or spell. and while mostly used on people it should work on objects too.”

“wait wait wait, that could get you millions and you’re going to use it on this??”

“who’s drooling now? yes it could but this hall could get me more and I’d prefer it not in the hands of certain people.”  

“alright I mean not really how I operate but it’s yours so you can do whatever you want with it.” “glad you approve, map?” gwyn cautiously pulled out the blank map and set it down on the table. 

he opened the vile and began to pour it over the map, praying that this would not be in vain. the vile had cost him greatly. he looked down and gwyn stole the words from his mouth “holy fucking shit.”

#gwynriel #gwyneth berdara #azriel #pirate au #acosf #my babies #I do be lacking the motivation to write so part 5 might be in a while

[sunflowerstalks]

Maybe If Remus Had a Plan in the First Place This Fic Would Have Had a Name, Too

Remus is Remus, Roman is tired, and there’s a cat, too. Expected chaos ensues.

This is my gift for Pigeon, @the-pigeon, for @sanderssidesgiftxchange! I hope you enjoy your gift, and i hope your holidays were and continue to go well! Also, happy new year!! :D

word count: 2125

rating: teen and up (for slight language/innuendo)

content warnings: slight innuendo/language typical of remus, hair pulling as a stim, descriptions of bad things happening to animals (as an intrusive thought, it is dealt with accordingly), slight anxiety attack/sensory overload moment

relationships: platonic sides (all of em) with brotherly roman&remus focus, implied/background romantic roman/virgil and romantic patton/remus but it’s pretty subtle

characters: roman, remus, virgil, patton, logan, janus, c!thomas (meaning both character!thomas and cat!thomas asfhjakfh)

additional tags: high school au, punk au, heist fic, like slight conflict and then mostly fluff and comfort. also, side note, cain and abel are the twins’ cats sdhjgdskfh

“Remus.”

“Roman.”

A beat.

“Any chance you could explain… any of this?” Roman gestures wildly to the pile of metal scraps, receipts, the feral cat, and assorted other trinkets strewn across the sidewalk in front of Remus, before crossing his arms and impatiently awaiting an answer without his usual air of, well, put-together-ness.

“Well, I’d actually gotten around to finally cleaning my wallet, when—”

“The cat, Remus! Whose cat is this? Why do you have it? Why is it surrounded by trash?” Roman’s voice increased in both volume and shrillness as he went on, hands reaching unconsciously to tug at his hair.

“Hey, don’t do that shit,” Remus tugged at the cuffed jean at Roman’s ankle for emphasis, “Anyways, like I was saying, I was cleaning my wallet when I remembered that I was like, eighty assignments behind in anatomy, so I figured I could do some cool art or somethin’ with a cat! For… extra credit or something.” Remus faltered for a moment, “In all honesty, I didn’t think I’d get this far.” He had thought getting the cat would be the hard part, so now he was stuck in the swing of success without a direction to turn. Roman, however, was still stuck on the small details (in Remus’ humble opinion).

Roman took a deep breath, muttering something that sounded a lot like a prayer for forgiveness, before looking down at his brother yet again.

“Remus.”

“Yes, brother dearest?”

“Whose cat is this?”

“Do you want the honest answer?”

Roman looked moments away from manslaughter, yet managed to nod anyways. Remus’ face broke into a shit-eating grin;

“I have no fucking clue.”

---

“Let me get this straight—”

A chorus of ‘good luck with that’s and similar sentiments echoed Logan’s statement, much to his chagrin.

“Okay. Redo.”

“You can’t just say ‘redo’ IRL, Lo,” Virgil chuckled, not even bothering to look up from his phone—he had already checked out from the drama, but stayed for the simple pleasure of experiencing the familiar banter—and in fear of being called to the dean’s office for cutting class. Mostly the latter.

“And I would argue that you cannot say ‘IRL’ in a verbal conversation, yet here we are,” Logan paused for emphasis, adjusted his necklaces for the umpteenth time, and smoothed his hands over the table again before continuing, “Regardless. The situation that you—and I mean you two,” he gestured to the twins, “there is hardly a ‘we’ fault-wise here—have gotten into, is one of... feline larceny, without a known victim? Is that correct?” Remus nodded sheepishly—or as sheepish as his wolfish features could get, all teeth and eyes—while Roman just stewed in rage. Remus’ backpack laid halfway zipped on the lab table, and every once in a while a pink nose and whiskers would find its way into the light before being shoved back by a flurry of hands, aware of what yet another detention would mean for the twins. They couldn’t all just skip, though—they learned that the hard way from the last time one of Roman and Remus’ harebrained schemes had made its way from “a slight nuisance” to “an unignorable thorn in everyone’s side that also somehow ends with arson.” So, they had some past experience in handling the, well, experience that the twins brought along with their company—but they normally had at least a lead to work with.

“How,” Janus started, massaging his temples despite only just then contributing to the wreck of a conversation that their art class had devolved into, “do you steal a cat, and not know who from?” Remus just shrugged.

“It wasn’t intentional. I needed a cat, a guy had a cat, I didn’t ask questions. Was I supposed to?” Remus asked, eyebrows drawn together—normally, he’d be a sarcastic shit that would drive the group insane on (some level of) purpose, but now he just seemed genuinely afraid—of the consequences of his own actions, but, still—progress. Logan opened his mouth to offer his advice, but was silenced by the jarring ring of the bell. He sighed. This was going to be a long day of way more stress than he was qualified for—the twins were going to owe him another stick and poke if he had any say in the matter.

---

Remus must have been a wonderful, wonderful man in his past life. He had to have been. Because, somehow, by some good grace, he managed to make it through another two classes on his own, and to lunch in one piece, with a living cat by his side—well, in his backpack, but the merit stands. Logan could honestly say he was impressed—not that he would tell him that, though. Nevertheless, the six friends reconvened at lunch—still without a direction to turn.

“I could just put him back where I found him,” Remus started, attempting to break the icy silence at the table with a jackhammer as always.

“Do you even know where that is?” Roman scoffed, incredulous.

“Well, no, but I could get close.”

“This isn’t helping,” Logan interjected, “How about you bring it to a shelter? One nearby where you found it?” The table nodded in general agreement, but Remus only frowned.

“But that isn’t where I got it from. What if it has an owner? What if the closest shelter isn’t a no-kill shelter, and we go to all the trouble of saving the cat only for the fucks at the shelter to hurt it?” Remus’ pace picked up with his heart rate—despite only having this cat for maybe six hours, if anything happened to it, Remus had a pretty good idea of what he’d end up doing.

“We can check for that, can’t we, Lo?” Patton chimed in, placing a calming, steady hand on Remus’ shoulder, which sunk, relieved, at the touch.

“Possibly. But, regardless, it isn’t Remus’ cat. Our priority is to get it back to its original owner, if it has one,” Logan pointed out, “If that isn’t possible, then we need to reevaluate our plan, come up with another, and settle for a different goal.”

“Have we at any point today even actually had a plan?” Virgil snickered, ever the pessimist—it wasn’t like he was really helping as he was, once again, staring at his phone.

“Well, it’s not like you’ve done much besides stare at your phone today, edgelord,” Remus snarked, though it came out as more of a mumble—his face was pressed into the table, and his eyes were on the cat in the bag.

“You’re gonna have to get better nicknames, Dukey, we’re all edgelords here,” Janus deadpanned, smudging an unhealthy amount of eyeshadow around his eyes while Virgil and Remus argued over their respective contributions.

“Okay, can you, my brother,” Roman pointed to Remus, whose teeth clacked with how fast he shut up, ”and you, my boyfriend,” he pointed to Virgil, who could only look the smallest bit abashed,  “calm all the way down? Stop arguing, holy shit—” Roman took another breath, relishing the silence that had fallen over the table before pushing on, “—how about we all go, together, and fix this shit? I mean, what could go wrong?”

---

The answer was a lot. A fucking lot could go wrong when six seventeen-year-olds tried to coordinate anything, let alone an amateur heist.

Remus managed to get through the rest of the school day without much incident, but the rest of them were not so lucky, managing to receive a grand total of three detentions and six failed tests from lunch to the end of seventh period between the five of them. The teens recounted the horror stories of sixth period; Patton gesturing wildly from the driver's seat, Remus sat quietly (for maybe the second time in his life) in the passenger seat, and the remaining accomplices squished together in the back seat (which would fit three people at most for any group that wasn’t them). Also in the back seat was the cat, who had been dubbed “Thomas” for the time being—he was sat in Janus’ lap, curled up around an abandoned ball of yarn that had been left under one of the seats. The car ride across town would have been incredibly tense and unbearably long without the feline, and for that, Remus was grateful—even if he still had a sinking feeling of guilt swirling in his stomach.

---

           After a surprisingly uneventful car ride (except for the stop at a drive through for a morale boost (Patton’s words) of coffees and drinks which ended, after a rather nasty pothole, with a massive stain on the roof of the car), the party settled into the waiting room at the—no-kill, Remus triple checked—animal shelter. There weren’t enough chairs, so the group made more of a pile around Thomas, some of them standing, and the others sitting both on chairs and the floor. Juxtaposed with the sterile white of the walls, they stood out like the emo cousins that they basically were. Remus bounced his leg, up, down, up, down, over and over. He kept knocking his knee against Janus’, which jostled Thomas every time he did.

“Sorry,” Remus mumbled, trying to focus on holding still.  But it itched in the back of his brain, guilt and stress and fault and all the wonderful, terrible feelings churning, over and over. The clock behind the desk was too loud, and Remus couldn’t do anything about it because they wouldn’t even have to be here if not for him. So he kept his mouth shut and tried not to cry—for all of two minutes, because that was when Janus decided that he had had enough, and shoved a ball of fur into his arms. For a moment, Remus was terrified he was going to fuck it up, hurting Thomas or himself or causing some other inevitable disaster, but Thomas just pushed his warm face into Remus’ palm, and suddenly, somehow the only thing Remus could feel was loved. He choked out a wet laugh, unable to contain the bubbling build-up of emotions that had been brewing since he first saw Thomas that morning. His friends all looked at him, concerned at first, but all they could do was coo at Remus being the softest they had ever seen him. He sniffed, and gave them all a watery smile.

“Thanks, guys.”

“Sincerity? In my brother? It’s more likely than you think!” Roman teased, poking his brother in the arm. Remus stuck his tongue out at him, and the teens devolved into familiarity, playful taunts and sincere joy, waiting to be called back for Thomas’ check up.

---

While the veterinarian had been momentarily taken aback at the request for all six visitors to be in the room during the appointment, she also hadn’t seen a reason to say no at the time. Thus, once again, like the clowns they were, they piled into the room and crowded around the table, Thomas at the heart of it all—confoundingly calm given the situation, at least to the onlookers.

The veterinarian introduced herself to each of them, and began examining the cat for any injuries, microchips, or anything out of place.

“He seems to be healthy, no broken bones or infections…” The doctor said, reaching for a handheld device, “If he’s microchipped, and I’m able to reach the owner, you boys will be off the hook, okay?” Remus cringed, but nodded—he needed to remember that Thomas wasn’t his before he got hurt. She ran the scanner over Thomas’ back, and hummed.

“I’m… actually not finding anything. You said he was lost?”

“I don’t know for sure,” Remus confessed, “I found him on the street, so he could be a stray.”

“It seems he was a very lucky one, for sure. Most cats his age are incredibly susceptible to outside bacteria—finding you guys likely saved his life.” Remus’ eyes widened, and his hand reached for Thomas almost instinctively.

“You said that he doesn’t have an owner?”

“Not that I can determine, no. Did he have a collar, any sort of identification?”

Remus shook his head.

“Well, there are two options in the meantime; we can hold on to him, and put him up for adoption through our services, or you could adopt him. He needs to be immunized and neutered, first, but where he ends up is up to you guys.” Remus thought to himself for a moment.

“Hey, Roman. How mad do you think Mom would be if we brought Cain and Abel home a new friend?”

---

The answer? Not mad enough to outweigh her happiness at Remus’ smile with Thomas in his arms. And even though he didn’t end up getting the extra credit in anatomy, Remus’ circle of best friends grew by one, so he thinks he did alright in the end.

#sanders sides #creativitwins #intruality #prinxiety #ts roman #ts remus #ts virgil #ts patton #ts janus #ts logan #c!thomas #cat!thomas