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lizard-on-a-window-pane · 1 year

Text

Express Reunion

pairing: Sirius Black x reader

summary: You and Sirius haven’t seen each other all summer, and some things just can’t wait till after such a long train ride.

tags / warnings: NSFW (minors do not interact!), established relationship, soft Sirius, fem!reader, sex, fingering, p in v, dirty talk, excessive use of the word fuck, a semblance of a plot, no Peter, sorry Peter people

notes: y/n/n stands for your nickname; I imagine the character as also an Animagus with her own nickname, but up to you

word count: 3.3k

“Relax, Pads. She’ll be here any minute.” Sirius, feet tapping, weight shifting from side to side in anticipation, responded, “That’s exactly why I’m not relaxed, you idiot. How can you tell me to relax when she’ll be here any minute? I haven’t seen her in months, Prongs, months!” “Yes, I’m well aware. You won’t shut up about it for more than three seconds.” “Oh, and I love hearing about Evans incessantly.” Sirius rolled his eyes at James. “At least y/n is actually my girlfriend.”

“Shut it, you git. This is my year. I can feel it. We’ll be together in no time, just watch.” “You say that every year,” Sirius said, but he was already distracted from the conversation, on his tiptoes trying to look over everyone’s heads as he searched the platform for you.

You’d started dating last year, your sixth at Hogwarts, but had been friends since your first, a classic mutual pining situation that delayed your relationship but developed your love. When you’d finally opened up to each other about your feelings, not much changed between you… except for one thing, one very important thing: you couldn’t keep your hands (and mouths and bodies in general) off of each other.

Then, as quickly as the bliss had begun, it felt to you, it was interrupted by the end of the school year. With the arrival of the summer came your separation, and though you had written many, many letters through the entirety of it, you had not been able to see each other once. With Sirius now living with the Potters, he had gone on holiday with their family, then you had gone on holiday with yours; something came up here, or something came up there, and long story short, the timing never lined up.

Now, here he stood on platform 9 3/4 waiting for you, more excited about this reunion than any other he had ever had before. As his eyes searched for you, they landed first on a different familiar head of hair: messy, sandy brown, taller than those around it… “Oi, Moony!” he called, getting his attention. “Alright, lads?” Remus approached with a genuine smile on his face at seeing his friends, giving each of them a quick but firm hug. “Where’s y/n/n?” “Not here yet, much to Pads’s displeasure,” James responded as Sirius returned to his previous activity of scanning the crowd for you.

Then, after another minute or so, James and Remus chatting all the while, Sirius felt his quickened heart rate stop for a moment then pick up even more. There you were; he’d know your crazy hair anywhere. You were pushing past people and trunks on the crowded platform, making your way over to the group.

As soon as you cleared the last big crowd of people standing between you and them, your eyes met Sirius’s, and both of you broke into your biggest, brightest smiles. You jogged over; he met you halfway, and you wrapped your arms around each other and squeezed tight.

“Hello, love,” he said into your hair as he nuzzled your neck. “Hi,” you responded through your smile into his warm chest. “Missed you.”

“I missed you too, darling. So much. How are you?” He pulled back a bit, looking into your eyes, keeping one arm around your waist and bringing his other hand to rest on your face, caressing your cheek.

“Glad to be back. You?” “Finally going to shut up for a second now you’re here, I hope,” James replied before Sirius could answer as he approached the both of you.

“Har har,” Sirius faked sarcastically as you let out a heartfelt laugh. “Hiya, Prongs, Moons,” you smiled at each of them, pulling away from Sirius’s embrace to hug your other best mates.

“Hey, y/n/n.” “Alright, lovebirds. As touching as your little reunion is, if we don’t hurry up and get on the train, we’ll have to share a cabin, so let’s go,” James hurried you all.

The four of you made your way onto the Hogwarts Express and found an empty cabin, Sirius keeping his hands on you all the while - on your shoulder, the small of your back, in your hand, anywhere he could really, and when you finally sat down, practically on top of each other, he put his arm around you and held you close.

You all caught up about your summers, talking and laughing and falling into each other’s rhythms as if no time had gone by. You showed them your muggle polaroids from your travels; you and Remus discussed the novels you’d read over the break, including a couple you’d exchanged with each other when you’d said goodbye; James filled you in enthusiastically about quidditch developments, you having developed quite a liking for the sport.

Even if you were each enthralled in separate conversations, though, Sirius subconsciously maintained your physical connection - hands held, knees knocking against each other’s, always something. As the ride went on and your energy lulled, you fell into a comfortable silence as Sirius and James kept banging on. You draped your legs over Sirius’s, and he rested his hands on them. His touch went from relaxing to rattling, though, when his hand made its way to your thigh, slowly stroking up and down, going higher and firmer with each motion.

Since you’d gotten together, you’d never been shy about your affections, but still, you had your limits when it came to public displays. You shot him a warning look, but he pretended not to see. You could tell he was riling you up on purpose from the subtlest hint of his smirk forming on his annoying, gorgeous face.

“I think we ought to start getting changed into our uniforms. It won’t be long before we’re close,” you said as you got up and went to grab your things. You had to reach up to the top rack, and you leaned on Sirius for a little boost. When you’d gotten what you needed, you gave his shoulder a loving squeeze and scratched behind his ear like you knew he liked, unable to keep the amused smirk off your face at the thought of what a puppy he was. He was looking at you and smiled, leaning into your touch.

You made your way out of the cabin to the nearest toilet to change, and you’d just gotten your top layer of clothing off when you heard a knock at the narrow door.

“Occupied,” you called back. “It’s me, you twit,” Sirius’s unmistakable voice replied.

You opened the door a crack, but before you could say anything, he was squeezing into the tiny compartment, the two of you completely squished together.

“Getting started without me, I see,” he said, smirking and wiggling his eyebrows goofily at the sight of your torso in just your bra.

“Sirius! What the fuck?”

“What?” “What are you doing in here?”

“What? I thought you wanted me to follow you… with all the touching and the smirking and the sudden, random urge to get changed when we still have at least half the ride left…” “I what?? You were the one touching me, and I came to change so you’d stop messing with me!”

“Hm, not how it felt to me, but my mistake I guess… Now that I’m here though… might as well make the most of it, no? Happy accidents, and all that. You haven’t even given me a proper kiss hello yet, darling.” With that, he leaned down to remedy the situation, kissing you with all the passion months apart will build up.

“Siri,” you sighed, loving the feeling of him, but pulling briefly away. “Are you mad? I want to too, but not here!” You whisper-yelled. “We could get caught!”

“Pfft, when has that stopped us from doing anything? Just keep it down, and we’ll be fine, right? and if not, so be it… I don’t care if this whole train knows how mad you drive me,” he laughed. He kissed you again, hard. “and how good I can make you feel…” he finished, kissing down your neck, more confident now as you were already melting into his embrace, then back up to your waiting mouth. You matched his motions, kissing him back with your soft lips and adept tongue. He moaned into your mouth. “Fuck, I missed you.”

“I missed you too, you lunatic.”

He chuckled. You brought your hands up to his hair; he brought his down your body, squeezing your hips before gripping your arse. “And I missed this,” he said, giving a tight, playful squeeze. “And these,” as he moved his hands from your arse to your tits, kneading them and kissing you all the while. “And this…” One hand snaked down between your legs, cupping your heat.

You moaned in reply.

“Still want to wait till later, sweet thing? Cos the fact that you’ve already soaked through your panties tells me you’re pretty ready now.”

“Get on with it, Black… but for Merlin’s sake keep it down!”

“Atta girl.” He pulled your soaked panties to the side, running his long fingers through your folds, humming in appreciation before plunging two into your entrance. Your mouth opened in a silent scream as he curled them perfectly, and he took the opportunity to stick his fingers from his other hand into your mouth. You sucked automatically.

He chuckled again, lower this time, watching you with hungry eyes and thrusting harder, his palm hitting your clit each time, as he said, “Fuck, baby, I wanna fill every one of your warm, wet holes.” You nodded, your mouth still full, your hips rutting against his hand, your eyes rolling back in pleasure.

“Feel good?” he asked cheekily.

“Mmhmm,” your nodding getting more frantic.

He took his hand out of your mouth, replacing it with his tongue, kissing you fervently and bringing his now free hand down to rub your clit.

He kept at it till your thighs started getting shaky then proceeded to add a third finger inside you and increase the speed and pressure on your clit. He went to suck on the sensitive spot on your neck and whispered hotly into your ear as he did so, “Cum for me, lovely. I’ve been imagining it nonstop for months.”

That sent the most pleasant tingle down your spine, down to where you were already shaking and clenching, and one more rough, skillful move of his hands had you coming apart.

“You’re so fucking beautiful when you cum, y/n.” You laughed lovingly into his shoulder, overcome with both pleasure and affection. He kissed you, much softer now than he had been thus far, and you were lingering gently on each other’s lips when you moved your hands down to the prominent bulge in his trousers. His breath caught at the contact, and he couldn’t help but push into your hand, desperately wanting more.

“You wanna hear what I’ve been imagining nonstop for months?” you asked him, your voice sultry.

“Tell me,” he whispered, his lips still touching yours. He loved dirty talk, and you knew it.

“I’ve been imagining it was this cock,” you gripped his shaft, “every time I fingered myself.” “Fuck.” “Mhm. I thought about how well you fill me up, Siri. About how big you are and how well you fuck me.” You weren’t great at it, you thought, but it seemed to be working for him. You could feel his dick twitch in your hand, and he bit his lip and stared at you with eyes almost completely black from how lust-blown they were. “You make me feel so good, Sirius. Remind me how good, baby.”

You unzipped his trousers and pulled out his cock. He wasted no time in pulling one of your thighs up to his hip and replacing your hand with his on his cock as he brought it to your still wet entrance. You held your panties to the side as he pushed in, his head falling back at the pleasure, his grip on your thigh bruising.

“Holy fuck, y/n, how can it be even better than I remembered? You’re so bloody tight; it feels fucking incredible. Merlin, I love you.” You giggled at his fucked out state, clenching purposefully around him and holding him close as he pinned you to the wall.

“I hope you still feel that way when you’re not inside me,” you laughed. “Always.” He said it right away. “This is just a brilliant bonus.” He thrust roughly to punctuate his point.

“Ahh, fuck…”

This time it was him chuckling at your reaction, but his amusement quickly turned back to absorption as he picked up his pace. His hand not holding your leg up came to rest by your head, holding onto the wall to get any semblance of balance as he split you open repeatedly.

You met his thrusts with your hips. Gripping his t-shirt, you pulled it down and sucked on his collarbone, muffling your too loud moans. Your other hand reached around and grabbed his arse, pulling him into yourself as if he could go any deeper.

You knew if anyone were to walk by, or Godric forbid come knocking, they would be able to hear the sounds of you coming together over and over. It made you nervous, but you’d missed him and the feeling of him deep inside of you, giving you everything he had, so much — too much to stop. And you knew it wouldn’t last much longer anyway with how hard he was fucking into you.

You recognized the groans he made when he was getting close, and you encouraged him with moans of your own and tightening anywhere you were connected.

“Oh fuck,” he let out and brought his hand down to rub desperately at your clit.

You rutted into it, getting close, and with a strangled call of his name, you came around his cock.

Your orgasm wasn’t even over when his finally came. As it did, it prolonged yours from the feel of him, and your continuous clenching extended his in turn. The intensity of cumming together had you both feeling high as you went limp and tried to catch your breaths.

“Just couldn’t wait till we got back, huh? Needy girl,” he tutted. He kissed your cheek and brought his hand to your head, scratching sweetly into your hair.

You leaned your face on his, laughing and shaking your head at his antics. You played along, “No, I definitely couldn’t. Was worth the long wait, though, wasn’t it?” “I never want to have to wait that long again, but yes, it was.” He opened his mouth to say something more, a quiet sound that didn’t quite form into a word making its way out, but he stopped himself. He kissed your forehead before cleaning up a bit and fixing himself back into his trousers.

You took your panties off, which you should’ve done since the beginning you thought now, and scoffed amusedly at the state of them. “Thanks for ruining these,” you said fake-mad.

“You’re welcome,” he quipped back, unfazed, confident, smirking again.

You smacked his chest but couldn’t stop smiling as you pulled your uniform on clumsily. “You know, I could use some space in here,” you shot at him. “Sorry, darling, I’m enjoying the show too much,” he laughed. You rolled your eyes playfully.

Struggling into the rest of your clothing, you finally turned to the little mirror. Your face was flushed, and your hair was a bit messy, but when wasn’t it? you thought to yourself as you appraised your appearance and decided you were presentable enough for no one to realize what had just happened.

Sirius stood behind you, smiling at you through the mirror, leaning back against the wall to give you as much space as possible, not that that was much, but with you now dressed, he came up behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist. He kissed the side of your head and whispered that he loved you. You beamed at him and said the words back as if it was the first time.

You peaked out of the compartment, making sure the coast was clear, and pulled him out behind you quickly before anyone emerged from their cabin. Once in the hallway, you took a deep breath and straightened out your clothes.

You looked at him seriously, but two seconds after you made eye contact, both of you burst into laughter.

“Okay, okay.” You wiped the laughy tears from your eyes. “You go first,” you said as you shoved him toward the compartment where James and Remus sat, none the wiser.

“They’re gonna know, sweetheart,” he replied, rolling his eyes at you.

“Are not. Just act natural.”

“Sure,” he let out disbelievingly, but made his way to the cabin. Before slipping inside, he looked back and winked at you. Now you rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t help but be giddy the whole couple of minutes you waited before following him. Once you thought enough time had gone by, you made your way back. You tried to act nonchalant as you took your seat next to him.

Remus was reading, and James was fiddling with his exploding snap deck. He looked up at you carelessly, already looking away by the time his brain caught up with him, making him do a double take to stare at you. He looked between you and Sirius once, twice, then said, “You did not just shag in the toilet.” At your guilty look and Sirius’s unabashed laughter, he continued, “Bloody hell, you two. You couldn’t keep it in your pants for a few more hours? For fuck’s sake.” He shook his head but was laughing with Sirius two seconds later. Remus just chuckled without even looking up from his book.

The rest of the ride was relatively quiet, just more chatting, James and Sirius already throwing out ideas for your first pranks of the year.

As you made your way off the train, you fell into step with Sirius, a couple steps behind James and Remus.

“Hey, Pads?” “Yeah, love?” “Back there, after we… you know…” “Oh, I know.” “Shut up,” you giggled. “Well, after that… were you gonna say something else?” You didn’t want to push him but were so curious at the look he had had on his face.

He grew serious immediately. He put his arm around your shoulders, pulled you close, and kissed your head. “Well. I was just thinking… After I said I never wanted to have to wait that long again… I was just thinking that maybe, you know, we won’t ever actually have to.” He looked at you hopefully. “It’s our last year and everything, and well, I was just thinking, after this, maybe we could stay together.” You thought you knew what he meant, but furrowed your brows a bit. He quickly added, “As in, move in together, I mean. Stay together as in live together. The being together part was a given, I hoped,” he chuckled nervously. Your heart was melting at his words. His nerves and sincerity rendering him wordy when he was usually so concise and certain. He kept looking from the ground in front of him to your eyes and back.

You wrapped your arm around his waist and nuzzled into his shoulder as you kept walking. You gave it a kiss and smiled up at him. He was already looking down at you, set at ease by your gesture, a gentle smile on his face.

“I love you. And I’m so glad we’ll never have to wait that long again then.”

His smile widened at the implication in your words, your confirmation of his hopes. He leaned down for a quick peck, still beaming as he straightened back up and you both quickened to catch up with your friends.

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lnfours · 1 year

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Hi! I was wondering if you could do one where Tom and the reader are dating and when they are out on a date night a guy tries to make passes at y/n and she tells him that she has a bf but the guy doesn't take no for an answer so Tom has to step in

JEALOUS!PROTECTIVE!TOM im here for it.

send me some tom asks!

the pub was busy, beings it was friday night trivia. this weeks theme was marvel, which immediately grabbed tom's attention. of course, he roped everyone into coming with him, which no one was apposed to the idea, and he even invited you on the outing. of course you said yes, because who doesn't love a little pub trivia? especially with tom's company.

plus, you could use a few drinks after the week you had.

his arm was resting on the booth behind you as you all sat down in one of the larger booths. everyone was talking amongst themselves, some sparking conversation with you to get to know you since tuwaine, haz, and tom's brothers were the only ones who really knew you. you didn't mind the slight interrogation, you were keen on meeting his friends. and for the most part, everyone seemed to be enjoying one another's company.

right before the trivia started, you leaned closer to tom's ear, "gonna go get a refill. you want another?"

he tilted his beer bottle around, feeling how much liquid he had left till it ran dry, "nah, i'm alright. thank you, love."

his smile was contagious, your smile growing wide as those big brown eyes met yours, "'course. be right back."

you tapped his leg, his arm moving back to his side as you got up from your seat. he watched as you walked over to the bar and ordered another drink, not even realizing that all the boys were looking over at him.

he felt everyone's gaze, but turned around with a smirk, "what?"

"you're whipped." haz smirked back, sipping on his beer.

"she's cool, i like her," another one of the boys added, "seems to keep you on your toes, which is a good thing."

everyone erupted in laughter as tom waved his hand, a chuckle escaping his lips, "piss off."

"yo, who's that guy she's talking to?"

tom's attention fixed back onto you as you stood at the bar. he could see you giving a fake, small smile to the guy who was blocking you against the bar top. he furrowed his eyebrows as you made eye contact, almost like he was silently asking 'who's that?'. you widened your eyes slightly as you glanced back at the mystery man and back at tom, your silent way of telling him 'please come save me from this conversation'.

he downed the rest of his beer in a quick chug, putting it on the table as he stood from his own seat, "just a minute, lads."

you felt a wave of relief as you watched tom make his way over to where you found yourself in a predicament with this asshole who doesn't take 'no' for an answer. of course, he was too busy talking about himself to realize you weren't paying attention, in fact you were too busy watching tom walk up to the bar and greet the bartender.

"hey, another beer, please?"

you looked at tom as the guy continued rambling, "yeah and then my buddy asked me-"

"sorry mate, do i know you?" tom asked, stepping closer to your side as he interrupted his sentence. the guy looked at tom confused, raising an eyebrow at you.

"you know this guy?" he pointed to tom.

"he's my-"

"i'm her boyfriend," tom didn't mean to cut you off, but he knew you'd be too nice to the guy who clearly didn't understand what you meant when you said 'i have a boyfriend', "again, do i know you?"

"nah, bro, sorry. didn't realize. my apologies."

he backed off, hands up in fake surrender as he backed up away from you. you sighed in relief as tom put his arm around your waist. he didn't say another word to the man, turning back around to the bar to grab his beer as you grabbed your drink from the table top.

"he didn't touch you, did he?" tom's eyes darted back to the man who was already moving onto another girl on the other side of the room.

"no," you reassured, "would've kicked his ass if he did."

tom snorted as the both of you walked back to your table, pressing a kiss to the top of your head, "that's my girl."

#tom holland imagine #tom holland x reader #tom holland #tom holland x reader imagine #tom holland fluff #tom holland angst #tom holland blurb #blurb #fluff #angst #protective!tom is my weakness. im sorry #actually i'm not sorry #mail time #blurb night #theslayerofthevampires

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polteergeistt · 2 months

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I think that our brain and emotions being electricity and chemicals is fascinating.

This is me turning into a mad ignorant scientist who makes conclusions about what he can see in his rather narrow vision. Just a little lad discovering his brain like a newborn in the great world.

Like... Chemicals. You can manipulate that stuff, create reactions. It doesn't work like any chemicals. You don't just heat it or pour it with other things in an erlenmeyer. You speak. You use your words. Your gestures. Your touch. Your looks. You use a behaviour. You use art. It's not magic, it's science.

There are billions of ways to instill an emotion. Now, the word "manipulate" always scares, but it doesn't have to be in a bad way. It can be "trick", "push", "encourage", "help". To me, in this context, manipulating means triggering an emotion, making it happen.

You can manipulate yourself with music. You listen to sad music when you want to feel sad. You listen to angry music to feel angry. You listen to love songs when you yearn. In this case, music can be a catalyst.

The positivity posts. These help you feel better about xyz with affirmations. See body positivity.

The posts about what's going on in the world. These can push you to feel a certain way about things by telling how the event is/isn't okay. They can push you to feel angry, sad, scandalized, in hope to make you help the situation or protest against it. See the posts about Gaza.

Sometimes, manipulating your emotions is pushing yourself to sit in sunlight when you feel down, taking a deep breath to calm down, practicing your hobby to feel happy, watching horror movies to feel scared, going to a roller coasters park for adrenaline. It can be done for good.

It's the good manipulation that interests me. We've all had this case when a friend says that they are not worthy of good things, that they deserve worse things, that they believe they are ugly inside and/or outside all that jazz. Perhaps this is your case as well. I know it's mine. What if there is a way to change this ? To do the inverse ?

It's basically "fake it till you make it". Being reminded of something multiple times pushes you to believe it. It's about consistency. In a way, that is how my dysphoria and dismorphia became more and more bearable. If I keep this going, it will not bother me anymore. Maybe it can help for ptsd ? That would be wonderful.

I feel like this is a bit too drafty but I know I'm onto something. My brain is weird and I'm trying to deal with it and sometimes I have to connect the dots by myself, but please speak up if you have something to say about this.

#polteergeistt rambles #psychology #emotions #i don't really know how to tag this #i'm just throwing words into the void at this point

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immediatebreakfast · 4 months

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This was just wow, I want to shake hands with Robert Louis Stevenson, and tell him how much I enjoyed this whole book to the end.

The last stop of Davie's adventure, a last victory for the lad that traveled in a circle, and one of the most impressive dialogue showdowns that I have ever read. Because it is that, a showdowns of words, cadence, and arguments like no other. Between Davie's constant friend the Highlander Alan Breck Stewart, and Davie's scheming uncle Ebenezer Balfour, the old man who kickstarted the kidnapping.

This whole chapter is like a masterpiece in dialogue. What to say, how to say, when to turn, how to direct the point in between arguments, Alan mocking Ebenezer's fake concern for Davie by using threats that we know he is capable of doing, Ebenezer deflecting and deflecting until he is backed into a corner where he has to admit what he did to Davie in order to keep the House of Shaws to himself.

It was magical to read, and Alan certainly didn't pull any punches in his almost melodramatic telling, and accusations against Ebenezer. This is why it works! The exclamation of the truth while omitting that Davie is looking makes it so delicious to read.

“And what is’t?” asked my uncle. “David,” says Alan. “What was that?” cried my uncle, in a mighty changed voice. “Shall I give ye the rest of the name, then?” said Alan. There was a pause; and then, “I’m thinking I’ll better let ye in,” says my uncle, doubtfully.

When the conversation turns to this, when you can feel how somehow these words can convey the tension going through the roof, you know it's going to to be good shit.

Both Davie, and the readers could feel how this was Alan's element. It's doesn't if it's a sword, a bottle, a bagpipe, or his voice Alan always marches foward with such confidence that one can't help but be left impressed by his handling. Even if Alan made Davie's life hell when he glambled away the money, this was the chance of him truly apologizing, by helping his friend recoger what was his by right.

Moreover, Ebenezer wasn't left behind in his own side of the conversation. The man really held his own against this stranger that suddenly called for his presence in the middle of the night. And yet he was no match for a man who doesn't care for empty threats when weapons could serve as arguments.

“Powder and your auld hands are but as the snail to the swallow against the bright steel in the hands of Alan,” said the other. “Before your jottering finger could find the trigger, the hilt would dirl on your breast-bane.

Then, the reveal that not only Davie is there alive, and well! But also that Mr. Rankeillor was listening to everything! And that Ebenezer has no other option than to give Davie what was promised less he ends without nothing to his name.

And then there is this last paragraph by Davie, which weights on his last thoughts of his experience:

Alan and Torrance and Rankeillor slept and snored on their hard beds; but for me who had lain out under heaven and upon dirt and stones, so many days and nights, and often with an empty belly, and in fear of death, this good change in my case unmanned me more than any of the former evil ones; and I lay till dawn, looking at the fire on the roof and planning the future.

Davie is finally resting! Not sleeping because who would be able to sleep after such victory, but resting his mind while thinking of the future, of what he will do now.

How many times in the novel had Davie thought about his future? Not something that could change in a second if he doesn't move, not the catching future of being captures by the Red Coats if he doesn't run through deadly heat and plains, the actual future that is seen since today through many years, when Davie is older, and maybe wiser.

After running, hiding, fainting, begging, screaming, enduring, and walking Davie is finally able to just think about not only what he will to do tomorrow, but what comes after tomorrow.

#This is chapter 29!#Before the ending and the start of Catriona #This whole thing was gold #kidnapped weekly #catriona weekly #davie balfour #alan breck stewart #mr rankeillor #ebenezer balfour

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aahsokaatano · 2 years

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Things I've learned about Mens Restrooms

Though I've been out as transmasc to my family/social circle for a little over a year, I didn't feel safe enough to start using the men's bathroom while in public until I went back to college a couple weeks ago. So, for my fellow transmascs, here is a list of things I didn't know before and only recently learned about this uncharted territory:

Literally no one cares if you use a stall instead of a urinal. In fact, in the 3 weeks since school started, I have only seen the urinals being used once (1) - but I've found at least one other stall occupied about 50% of the time.

There is a distressingly small ratio of sinks to available toilets/urinals in the men's room compared to the women's. This fact haunts me deeply. Why do so many people with penises think that they don't need to wash their hands after peeing, and which came first: the reluctance to wash their hands, or the small amount of available sinks? The world may never know.

On that note, people who have penises and use the men's room: PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF WHATEVER YOU HOLD DEAR, WASH YOUR DAMN HANDS, THATS SO GROSS

This may just be my university, I need a larger sample size to confirm, but men's rooms are so fucking dark???? Why is it so dark??? What are you afraid of seeing if you turn on more than two lights???? A penis???? My guy, I have news for you about what a restroom is for

I went to set my phone on the stall trashcan lid at one point out of habit and had a moment of pure confusion when it wasn't there before i remembered that most cis men have no reason to have a trashcan in the toilet stall and got really irritated on behalf of any transmascs who may use the men's room but still need those trashcans

If you walk in and out like you're meant to be there, no one will bother you. I almost ran headlong into a dudebro while exiting the mens room in the library today and he never questioned my right to have been using that restroom - we both said sorry and continued on our way. It's about the confidence. If YOU don't act nervous/confused/whatever you may actually be feeling, then they won't question you. Fake it till you make it, lads!

Anyways that's just my observations from the past couple weeks, set out into the world for my fellow trans and nb people who are more used to women's restrooms. Feel free to add your own relevant advice if you think i missed something! Or if you can confirm or refute the idea that men's rooms are poorly lit compared to women's!

AND PLEASE WASH YOUR HANDS GOOD GRIEF

#trans masc #trans man #trans men #trans advice #my stuff #max is talking #max transitions

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andthebubbles · 5 months

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(from smooth-boob) 🎁 Have a piece of a WIP you want to share? I couldn't resist!

i can't believe i'm doing this

here's almost the entire first chapter of a/b fic (there's meant to be a flashback at the end of 2 y/o anthony running away and meeting his fake parents, but i haven't written it yet 😇)

for passersby who don't know what this is about: this is the fic where anthony runs away when he's 2 years old, accidentally boards a ship that leaves england, gets adopted by nice parents, eventually forgets that he's a bridgerton, doesn't come back to live in england until he's 13; meets benedict at oxford in 1806 and they start a relationship. if this bothers you, do not read below the cut (it contains smut), just move on, don't send me hate, i am a real person

(i should start copypasting the summary and disclaimer lol)

Benedict meets the love of his life one ordinary autumn evening in an Oxford pub.

He's not a big believer of love up till this point. Thus far he’s found it entirely consigned to the great epics of the ancients, the tragic tales of Shakespeare, even King Char and King George, loving in their madness, loving despite no rhyme nor reason, loving when they should have no right. But then, surrounded by his peers who he does not care very much for, a Lord Fife and a Lord Cho and the second son of a baron and the third son of an earl whose names he does not care to remember, he looks up over his glass of beer and finds a finely dressed gentleman making his way over to them.

And his heart skips a beat.

“I hear you’re the best coxswain and crew out of all the undergraduates,” the gentleman says, loudly enough to halt their conversation, with no introduction of himself whatsoever. He has dark eyes and dark hair, lush with a hint of wave, curling over his forehead and pushed to one side.

Benedict hurriedly sips his drink.

“What of it, Mr.…?” Lord Fife eyeballs him.

“I'd like to place a wager on your winning the next race,” the gentleman rests a casual, black-gloved hand on their table. “On one condition.”

Fife raises his eyebrows. “What’s that, then?”

“I’m the coxswain for the crew.”

Silence. Then the table laughs uproariously, Benedict excluded.

The gentleman has a glint in his eyes, a tilt of his head befitting a lord. Arrogant. Attractive. His nose is straight, aristocratic, and his lips—

Smirking. Thin and pink, but full.

“My good man,” Fife finally says around chortles. “We don’t even know your name.”

“Nor have we seen you around, have we, lads?” Cho looks about pompously. “Are you a first year?”

“You’ve got me,” the mystery man straightens, tipping his top hat, impeccably smug. “A first year, looking for a crew befitting my talents. The best crew. Third years. Well-seasoned. You.”

“And… your name?” Fife drawls.

“Bailey. Anthony Bailey.” The gentleman holds his hand out.

Fife glances around at them all rather than taking it. “Hmm, Bailey, do we know a Bailey?”

A chorus of shaking heads.

Fife’s gaze sharpens. “What’s your father’s name? Where are your estates?”

At this, Bailey tilts his chin up. “My father is a merchant. And our estate is a shop in Bloomsbury. Which I’m sure you wouldn’t know of, since all you lords seem to learn is which of your first cousins has the biggest dowry so you can fuck them till you sire an heir—”

Fife punches him in the stomach, and the others set upon him like dogs, and Benedict yells and grabs the closest man to him, the second—or was it third?—son of a baron, whoever he is—

But heroic tales where justice is served are consigned to the epics, are the stuff of fairytales, have no place in reality. So the merchant is tossed out onto the cobblestone street, and the door slammed shut against the sudden autumn rains.

Benedict slips out the back door under the pretence of taking a piss outside.

The merchant is in a nearby alleyway taking shelter under the arch of a doorway. He has a cut on his cheekbone that he dabs at with a handkerchief; he puts it away with a mostly concealed wince when Benedict approaches.

They stare each other down like two fighters forced into the ring. Benedict’s heart aches; the merchant looks so tired.

“If you must punch me,” he says at last, looking away, “I would be grateful if it wasn’t in the same place twice. So, the stomach is off-limits. As is my eye. And my nose, though it hasn’t been punched, but I have plans with a special someone tonight, and I’d rather it not look bloody or broken.” He pauses. “Come to think of it, you should probably stay away from my face altogether.”

Benedict’s mouth twitches. “I’m not going to punch you.”

“Oh, that’s a relief.” It’s very droll. “You lot seem to have trouble doing anything but.”

“You… seem to know our prejudices well? The upper class?”

“Well, you rather like buying the things we make. You just don’t like it as much when we dare to step out of line or try to better ourselves or forget our lot in life.”

Benedict approaches him, cautious, like he would with a wild animal. Or a wounded one. “We were once like you, generations ago. Mere landowners. Until the crown granted us a title.”

“And how many generations ago was that, my lord?” The man’s voice drips with disdain.

Benedict winces. “Nine. I’m… I’m the ninth. In my family.”

The merchant looks sidelong at him in the lantern light, up and down, Benedict suddenly conscious of his finery, and the merchant’s coarser fabrics and simple brocade waistcoat indiscernible in the dimness of the pub earlier.

“So…” The merchant’s eyes drift back up to his face. “You’re an… earl?”

“Viscount.”

“So your father is an earl?”

Benedict swallows. “My father is dead.”

Rain pitter-patters on the cobblestones. Benedict’s fingers, lungs suddenly itch for a smoke.

“I’m sorry.”

Benedict almost smiles. “I’m surprised you have any sympathy left for us.”

“I’m not completely heartless. I know that death doesn’t care how rich or poor you are, how titled or how bottom-of-the-barrel you are. Once gone, the dead are all the same. Sorely, terribly missed.”

“Quite right.” Benedict’s mouth has gone dry. After a moment he holds his hand out. “I realise I haven’t introduced myself. Benedict Bridgerton.”

The merchant raises his eyebrows, a smirk playing on his lips. “The Right Honourable The Viscount Bridgerton?”

“Or just Benedict,” he grins. “I’m not fond of the title.”

“Then call me just Anthony.” He firmly shakes his hand, leather against warm skin. His eyes up close under the shadow of the doorway are near black, bottomless and blown wide.

Their gazes hold like puzzle pieces interlocked, clicking forever into place.

Benedict clears his throat, titillatingly unable to let go of his hand. “Do you have somewhere to be? You uh… mentioned having plans with a special someone?”

Anthony moves closer, impossibly so. “I noticed your staring in the pub.”

Benedict laughs, slightly desperately and high-pitched. “So you’re not the best coxswain in Oxford after all? You just… wanted me?”

“Why can’t it be both?” Anthony’s voice is intoxication against his lips. “I’m the best coxswain, and you’re my special someone?”

“Even when you thought I was going to punch you?”

“Well, I fervently hoped you would not.”

Anthony slides a hand under his jacket to rest against his hip; Benedict sucks in a breath like he’s starved of air. “Do you have some place we could go?”

Anthony cages him up against the door to his room and uses their combined weight to slam it shut. “Sorry about the mess.” He locks it and lights a taper on the nearby table, then licks a stripe up Benedict’s neck.

Hand fisting in Anthony’s hair against the sensation (and Anthony moaning into his mouth), Benedict has the barest second to look over his shoulder. Anthony’s room is organised clutter: books and papers on the desk by the window, spare candles on the shelf, more papers scattered on the badly-made bed.

“It’s not so bad,” Benedict says. “In fact I’m quite sure I’ve seen worse—”

Anthony kisses his words away like he’s ravenous, like they’re both running out of time. He drags Benedict by his shirt front over to his bed and Benedict falls onto it willingly, Anthony climbing atop him, caging him once more.

“You’ve seen worse?” Anthony grins, punctuates it with more kisses to the underside of his jaw. “Dare I ask where?”

“Well, when you have siblings…”

“I don’t. I have a mother and father, six freeloading stray cats, and about double that for the number of people I’ve had at some point or another in my bed.”

“People? Not men, specifically?”

“Men, women, and everything in between. And now, you.” It should sound callous; instead Anthony sounds almost reverent. He pulls his lips away from Benedict’s earlobe and extraordinarily gently unties and pulls off his cravat. Breath caught in his throat, Benedict reaches up and does the same for him.

Anthony’s cravat, unlike the duller colours of his waistcoat and jacket, is dyed a rich indigo blue.

“Mmf.” He impatiently pushes up Benedict’s waistcoat and shirt to get to the skin beneath, laying his hands everywhere, simultaneously trying to help Benedict with shucking off his own clothes. His jacket and waistcoat and boots are discarded on the floor; Benedict grabs his wrist when he gets to his leather gloves.

“Keep them on,” he says, hoarse.

Anthony’s gaze darkens, unfathomable pools of black. “What have you in mind?”

He doesn’t wait for an answer, his other hand sliding down and unbuttoning Benedict’s trousers, Benedict gladly lifting his hips to help Anthony push them down to his knees. “Your fingers,” Benedict says breathlessly, “in my arse—”

“Fingers?” Anthony smirks. “Rather confident of you.” He puts his index finger in his mouth, sucking and coating it with spit.

Benedict takes his hand from his mouth and guides it to his own, lapping around two fingers, tasting warm slick leather, Anthony trembling in his hold.

“Fuck.” With his free hand he takes Benedict and strokes him to full hardness, Benedict groaning at the sensation of leather on his cock, the back of his head hitting the mattress and Anthony’s fingers sliding out.

He pushes Benedict’s legs up, finally rids him of his trousers and boots and tosses them to the floor. “This all right?” He circles his entrance and Benedict bites his lip, settling his heels on Anthony’s back.

“Yes—”

Anthony pushes in.

Benedict’s eyes nearly roll back in his head. “Fuck.”

“And you wanted fingers,” Anthony teases.

“Hush—”

Anthony crooks his finger and hits his prostate, and Benedict cries out.

“Shh.” Anthony leans over him, keeps fingerfucking him, kisses away his whimpering, Benedict pulling him closer and roughly tangling his fingers in his hair.

“Fuck.” Now Anthony’s breaths turn ragged; he pulls back a fraction, panting against Benedict’s mouth. Glances down at Benedict’s cock between them, and the corner of his mouth lifts. “You’re going to come without me touching you?”

Benedict groans, cupping Anthony through his trousers, heat pooling in his stomach and groin, “I’m not that green,” he says between gritted teeth.

Anthony grunts and eases a second finger in, scissors, fucks him, curls them just so, and Benedict chokes, pants, and comes undone just like that, almost incognisant of it, gasping in bliss and relief and mild embarrassment, Anthony kissing him open-mouthed and lazily and his hand working him through till he’s spent.

Then he mouths his way down till he’s at his stomach, and cleans his come-splattered skin with his tongue.

Heat radiates raw and anew between Benedict’s legs.

“Can I suck you off?”

It comes out rough, awed; Anthony looks up at him startled. “You… you want to?”

Benedict nods.

He sits up after a moment, all of him shaky, turning Anthony so that his back rests against the wall. Anthony is still staring at him, loose-limbed and wide-eyed; Benedict tugs his trousers down and pushes apart his thighs.

“You… you don’t have to,” Anthony stutters.

Benedict looks up at him, one hand on his length. “Do you want me to?”

Anthony bites his lip and nods.

The first taste is salty, Anthony’s cock already tipped with pre-cum. Then it’s just sheer musk; Benedict adjusts so that the flat of his tongue is on the underside and gets up on his hands to swallow him whole.

“Oh—” Anthony’s fingers, toes curl; he quickly sets the gentlest hand in Benedict’s hair. “Oh, fuck…”

Benedict starts fucking him, fondling his balls gently, pressing down hard on Anthony’s hips when he involuntarily jerks. “Fuck, sorry—”

Benedict sucks him hard and Anthony keens, sliding further down the wall, fingertips fluttering at the nape of Benedict’s neck.

Benedict swipes his tongue over the head, bobs up and down, finds Anthony’s other hand fisting the sheets and slides his own underneath to hold it tightly in his. “Fuck, I’m—I’m going to—” Anthony gasps, tugging at his hair, warning him off; Benedict holds fast.

Anthony’s come hits the back of his throat, salty and bitter and hot. Benedict swallows it all, nips the insides of his trembling thighs when he’s done; Anthony curves over him and drags his lips against his temple and pulls him up, kissing him like a man starved, kissing him like Benedict hung the moon and the sun and the stars.

Benedict pulls them both down to the bed when he starts to catch his breath, lying side by side, face to face; he caresses Anthony’s cheek, removes his gloves, slides his hand down past his sweat-damp open collar and feels his pounding heart. “You all right?” he murmurs.

Anthony lifts his eyes to his, still breathing hard, brushing his nose against his. “Yes. Are you?”

Benedict grins. “More than.”

Anthony closes his eyes and contentedly hums.

After a moment he opens them again, something small and hopeful and anxious now threading through him like a childhood fear of the dark. “Will you stay awhile?” he whispers.

Benedict blinks. Quickly eases into a smile. “Of course.”

He settles beside him; Anthony pulls him towards his chest with an arm over his shoulders, rests his head atop his.

Outside, the pitter-patter of rain continues to fall.

#anyway ty for the ask!!#ask game #a/b fic #things are subject to change ofc. it's a wip.#like i literally just swapped berbrooke's name to cho #fic talk #untracked bridgerton #smooth-boob #my fics

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violetevents · 2 years

Text

pairing: stede/edward word count: 500+ 30 day fluff challenge: day 5. painting together (previous entries) a/n: took me AGES to come up with an idea for this prompt, and eventually concluded that make up also totally counts as paint and came up with this :) also i’m pretty sure blackbeard doesn’t actually wear eyeliner but i like to think that after stede returns he tones down the dramatic black eye look but keeps at least some of the eyeliner because why not

Injuries are a common part of pirate life, but that doesn’t mean they can’t be incredibly inconvenient, Ed thinks, as he tries to apply his usual eyeliner with a hand that’s still recovering from a pretty bad stabbing accident. He can’t bend his fingers just right yet, and his hand is shaking, and he’s just about to throw the charcoal across the room, when he hears a gentle tap on the door, and Stede’s head pops in.

“Hey Ed,” he says, softly, before wandering into the room. “We’re gaining pretty quickly on that merchant ship you had your eyes on, you ready?”

Ed stares at Stede. He still has to get used to this new Stede. The Stede that left him on the docks. The Stede that faked his own death. The Stede that chose the pirate life, fully and without anything holding him back. The Stede that chased him across the ocean for months, just to apologize. The Stede that loves him, truly fully completely totally, and that chose him, even if it took him a while to get there.

They’re still in unsteady waters. Ed still doesn’t fully trust Stede’s not going to bolt at his earliest inconvenience, but Stede’s working hard to prove he can be trusted. So Ed owns it to him to be honest, at least.

“My hand’s fucked up from that stabbing,” he grumbles. “Can’t get my eyeliner to work.”

“Oh,” Stede says, and takes a tentative step towards Ed. “Would you, uhm. Maybe want me to try?”

Ed looks up at him. “Would you?” He asks, and Stede nods, before taking another step towards Ed.

“Yeah, let me,” he says, and tentatively takes the charcoal from Ed’s hands. He has to step into Ed’s space to get better access to his face, and Ed can smell his lavender soap. Stede definitely has changed over the past few months, has toughened up considerably. But the smell of lavender is still so distinctly him.

Stede gently places a hand on his cheek and angles his head up, so they’re eye to eye now, Stede towering over him. He gets to work placing a gentle line under both of Ed’s eyes, and Ed can see his tongue poking out in concentration. Ed used to think it was impossible to look incredibly cute and also ridiculously hot at the same time, but well. Then he met Stede.

“There,” Stede says, finishing with a flourish. “All done.”

Ed picks up the mirror to appreciate Stede’s work. “It’s perfect, thank you.” He stands up to join the others, but Stede hasn’t taken a step back yet, so suddenly they find themselves nose to nose.

“Oh,” Stede breaths out, and Ed reaches up to touch Stede’s cheek this time, feels himself leaning forward, their mouths only inches away from each other when-

“Five minutes till contact!” Lucius yells through the door of the cabin. “Better get your fucking asses up here!”

Stede doesn’t pull away, just stares almost breathlessly at Ed. “The lad always had absolutely terrible timing,” he murmurs, and Ed hums. There’s a silence and then, “So, should we?”

Ed’s the one who takes a step back, with a deep sigh. “Yeah. We should.”

Stede’s already at the door, when Ed calls out. “Stede?” Stede turns around, and Ed nods at him. “Thank you.”

Stede smiles, softly, privately, quietly. “No problem, captain.” And then disappears through the door. Ed breaths out and runs a hand through his hair. He used to think that eventually all those injuries would kill him. Now he’s starting to think that Stede Bonnet might be the death of him.

#blackbonnet #gentlebeard #stede x blackbeard #30 day fluff challenge #the only other idea for this prompt i could come up with #was a fic in which mary runs a painting studio that gives toddler painting classes on sunday morning #and she asks stede to take over for her that weekend because she and doug are going on a romantic trip together #and one of the attendees is ed with his daughter #and stedes like OH NO HOT DAD ALERT #but i just couldn't really get the vibe right and it was getting frustrating #so i ended up giving up on that one #maybe in the future who knows

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musicallisto · 2 years

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👒 + matthias helvar (of course 😭) i like playing video games (im playing that new game stray rn!), i get super loud/talkative around my best friends, i also get drained from said hyperactivity So quickly, my main hobby rn is staying up till 3 am for absolutely no reason whatsoever. my favorite color is pink and ive liked the smell of gasoline since i was a wee lad. um. cancer sun, intp (used to be an infp!!!!), i have gotten chaotic evil on the alignment test 4 times and have accepted thats what i am (i am a gremlin at heart 😽) anyways bye ily clara 🫶🏼

no way you're playing stray!! that game is so cute i want it so bad but it's expensive😭

some headcanons about your dynamic with matthias:

okay but a tangent on modern!matthias for two seconds: VIDEO GAME NIGHTS!

he would not get the concept at first. like, at all. he's probably seen enough violence in his life to not want to take pleasure in a game where you have to kill people.

"but they're fake guards, helvar. it's all make believe." "and? what if they have families?" "they're lines of code-" "what if they have code families??"

so you decide to show him a harmless game like stray and he's not convinced either.

"why in the three hells would i want to play as a cat?" "uhm, you've never wanted to be a cat? do nothing all day and just be an inconvenience? i mean, yeah, thats kinda what you do already" and homeboy is OFFENDED--

but then you tell him, "think of it this way. are you not curious about what trassel does all day? how he sees the world? what it is to be him? that's the power of video games. it's the best way to put yourself into somebody else's shoes."

and even though he still grumbles that it's literally So Pointless, he gets it a bit better with the trassel example.

which by the way! Trassel loves you. So much. You spoil him rotten and give him treats and belly rubs and matthias at first tried to insist he's like, a combat isenulf!! and not some vulgar dog!! but you look him dead in the eye for like 3 seconds and he gives in. he literally spoils him rotten and gives him belly rubs on the daily what is he even ON about

evenings at the crow club!!! delirious. so much fun. drinking games GALORE. he's cocky enough after one pint to challenge you to a drinking game and boy, do you not like to back down from a challenge. you coerce jesper into playing too, but jesper is a lightweight compared to the two of you + you're so keen on outdrinking matthias that you'll stop at nothing, not even cheating, to always be the one giving out the shots.

so jesper has to back away, and he does in mild terror, like O.o houston we might have a problem on our hands

but it leads to careless nights, stumbling drunk to your temporary home in ketterdam, leaning on each other for support and talking one another's ear off (you both get So. Talkative. when night falls and you've had too much to drink, it IS literally funny).

perhaps that's how the first "i love you" is blurted out, in the dead of night, the words forgotten in the morning by both parties, but the feeling remaining just as strong...

#murs 💎#2022roadtrip #shadow and bone #matthias helvar #grishaverse #six of crows #matthias helvar headcanons

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writer59january13 · 3 months

Text

Why do today what you can put off till tomorrow?

The following extrapolated

thought thread exercised, NOT utilized to intimate

how Fats Domino belied, and wowed a crowded house ass-sized.

As a former ace procrastinator, I abhor

putting off doing what best ought

to get immediate attention bar ring some extenuating dire circumstance,

sans mishap with flying car - pet case in point being unexpected a bomb bin able crisis necessitating

hypothetical individual impossible

to remain calm while in the process

(assisted with good ole mom)

to hoist self with one's own petard, which emergency best warrant a reward,

otherwise if fate doth NOT

require one to break

from ordinary business as usual

to enlist the "FAKE" help of a grenadier,

who doth make his/her livelihood

risking their life,

and limb without quake king (obviously compensating bravery

as he/she doth stake

out mortal danger with adequate adorn

ing mortal kombat

with ample legal tender and/

or promising first born)

for unstinting mettle,

especially tolerating accompanying

martial baritone horn

player screech (like fingernails

scraping across chalkboard)

in close proximity - eliciting a scorn ing glare from soldier spy

tinker tailor with a torn

smile while trained

special ops named Bjorn incurs deadly hazard from one morn

to the next amidst adversity

shouldering care worn Marine's motto semper fidelis,

which unnecessary loss of young life

predicated on add

age, viz being at the least,

a day late and dollar short egad inadvertently dooming

princely valiant warmonger,

a mere stripling lad

whose mourning brings

heavy pallor of sad ness, which imagined situation - aye tangentially congruently analogous by and by to the butterfly effect,

or sparrow's swan song i.e. die

destiny wrought, when one dost espy

a single occurrence no lie, (the flickr ring, instagram

ming, kickstart ting well nigh

linkedin shutterfly of a butterfly)

say twerks catcher in the rye,

hence no matter how small, thee or thy

can change the course

of the universe forever,

no idea how nor why.

Unnecessary torturous agonizing stress

wracked psyche throughout mein kampf beginning in early grade school, where yours truly adopted counterproductive time management, note taking, and prioritization of most to least important task, which foundering like a fish out of water besieged with physiological symptoms linkedin to haunting nightmares.

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punkscowardschampions · 9 months

Text

Group chat & Cali & Marly & Barly

Ali: [send them 🎃 pics lol like getting in the spirit here]

Ali: Carving suggestions welcome

Ronan: Eye holes and a mouth so I don’t need no costume ‘cept for that’d be grand

Ali: A bold look, I like it

Bartley: Don’t need no girlfriend neither, sounds like

Ronan: Ah well, you’d be knowing more about keeping yourself single, like

Carly: 💪🥊🤕 talk there

Carly: fake 🩸🩸 only, don’t u know?

Bartley: Be him who’s primary concern in a costume is covering that ugly mug 🤷‍♂️

Moses: But sure none of yous are going to look as good as me anyway so I wouldn’t fight about it

Ronan: Give over, I don’t know what to go as and it’s the day of is my concern

Carly: i’ll help you ro ro, bring yourself on over for some ❤️🎨✨🧡🧵💚💄🖤

Ali: Why would you leave it so late, boy? Tut tut

Moses: I got mine from that proper place on [some street, giving those pop-up seasonal shops you get because it’s a city so it’s believable energy] girl on the till was very helpful, I’ve invited her along

Ronan: Have I time to go down? Might be taking you up on your offer instead, Carls

Johnny: I can take you if you’re ready to be going now

Bartley: Well I want a proper costume if you’re all having one, fuck’s sake

Johnny: Come on then, I’ve not got all day

Bartley: Tell Ro, carrying on with ❤️🎨✨🧡🧵💚💄🖤

Johnny: I’m telling you both

Ronan: Sorry, sorry!

Moses: Her name was [something it blatantly was not lmao, good guess though] so pick any other nametag, right lads

Carly: her name’s [what it actually is, because believable you’ve also been there and had a look even if you didn’t buy anything lol, and this gal befriends peeps wherever she can, god bless her], lads

Moses: Alright you little stalker, ‘tis the season, I suppose

Ali: Really shouldn’t put the nametag in such a distracting place, like…

Carly: 😅 they should pay the poor girl more

Moses: She would’ve paid me to stay and brighten up the rest of her boring day

Moses: What are you two after wearing then?

Carly: sure im after wearing whatever’ll save her 🌚🌟🌜 now shes not had a v grand day

Moses: Still after being a massive dyke since we stopped hanging out, is it?

Carly: since when are we calling it hanging out, boy?

Moses: Go on, what would you call it, I’m intrigued

Carly: I’d call it fucking as thats what it were & none of us are meant to be 👶 no more but aw thats sweet so it is, you trying to talk nicer for [the costume girl]

Moses: I’ve always talked nice enough for the both of us, make up for that lack of imagination

Carly: k yea you keep on imagining me how u want youve always done that too 💙

Moses: Ah you’re hoping, trouble

Ali: Your dire flirting has killed the convo yet again, Moses but I can’t offer to tell you my costume to revive it, no spoilers

Carly: nor me as you’re being a gobshite as per

Moses: 💔💔

Moses: I’m the only one here whilst they’re playing dress-up

Carly: but not the only option ever 👋💙

Moses: Looking forward to seeing what you’ve come up with this time, Ali

Johnny: Leave her alone, Moses

Moses: Why, I’m paying her a compliment

Johnny: Because you’ve been told before, is why

Moses: Relax, mate, it’s a costume party, she’s good at them, that’s it

Johnny: Don’t mate me and in the next breath push aside what I said as if I’m some eejit, that’s it

Moses: If it worried her, she’d say so

Johnny: Relax yourself or you’ll have your own worries

Moses: Some of us like to be friendly to guests

Moses: Please tell me you haven’t gone in the shop with that face on

Johnny: She’s not your friend, she thinks you’re a cunt

Moses: but it’s a fine line, ain’t it

Moses: What says you, Ali?

Ali: Just leave it out, it’s meant to be a party

Carly: 🖤🧡🎃🖤🧡👻🤍🧄💀🖤🧡🎃🖤🧡

Moses: My thoughts exactly 😈

Carly: [private to Ali]

Carly: wow 😵‍💫☄️

Ali: I didn’t even know he was still in this chat

Carly: I didnt know he had it in him to swear like that 😳🍨

Carly: ive serious never heard it before long as wes all lived here

Ali: He really does not like Moses a fair amount of the time

Carly: baby you've to talk to him about how much he likes you still

Ali: You do remember how that went the last time I attempted anything like that, right?

Carly: yea & I know he for proper hurt you but that was 😍🌹🥰💞🍬🥊🧨💓

Ali: Nah, he’s just intense, it can look like 😍🌹🥰💞🍬🥊🧨💓 but

Carly: k if u say its so, you’ve got more knowing of him than me

Ali: It’s been months, if he was bothered about me and not Mosey then he would have said something before now

Ali: it’s cool, least it did temporarily shut him up, like

Carly: I’d love you if you’d not been round for months

Carly: & if hes intense where r those feelings going? on god? 💔🙏📿⛪️💔 I don’t reckon

Ali: Because you’re an angel

Ali: No doubt he hasn’t lacked company, I assume he’s expressing himself just fine, not that I like to think about that

Carly: nah, you’re an angel & hes a dope boy who dunno what to do w you or himself unless youre lying down

Carly: it don’t mean hes unbothered, hes too bothered for the missing of you & your 🧚✨🌠⚡️🌟👼🎇💛🌞🍯🐝🌻💛 to speak is gonna be nearer

Ali: I feel more like a nun, I don’t think I can keep being this pure and waiting for what?

Carly: only you & he know for what

Carly: if its worth waiting or no

Ali: 😣

Ali: It was

Carly: I’m sorry making u 💭 about him

Ali: You didn’t, he came in out of nowhere and just

Ali: did that

Carly: warned mosey off you & called him a c u n t

Carly: my god, if someone would do that for me 🥺

Ali: I will

Ali: look like I’m copying now but

Carly: well now sure id have to make u less pure & hed be after calling me a dyke again

Ali: 😏 He’s so clueless sometimes

Carly: drews hair isn’t so long, is it? 😅

Ali: No longer than Johnny’s, no

Ali: brushes it more, granted

Carly: I like wild things more 🐅🧡

Ali: I like dirty too

Ali: they’re so clean, somehow

Carly: makes me feel like I have to 🧼✨🧽✨🧴✨ & I dont

Carly: can’t be called no nun nor pure myself

Ali: You’re too in the know for that nonsense

Carly: theres no going back

Ali: How to go forward, that’s the question

Carly: ive said what you’re to do

Ali: that was a telling not a suggestion, was it 😅

Carly: it was, best you heed it or else 🤍🔮👻💜

Ali: I’ll consider myself thoroughly warned

Carly: yea, you’re told, you & moses both when I take that cute girl off him & treat her loads better

Ali: Trying to decide if he’ll be 🥺 or 🥺

Ali: important distinctions, obviously

Carly: either’s grand, they’ve all to get in touch w their feelings like

Ali: 🧚🧚💛

Ali: He reckoned I don’t have a clue about mine

Carly: classic projection move eh?

Carly: he dont have a clue about yours or his own

Ali: We both ended up lying

Carly: [her mum] says you always need to lie

Carly: the truth fucks things

Carly: idk though i was honest w moses & sure enough look what he did but I am w you too & look how you are

Ali: I think you should be able to be but sometimes you can’t

Ali: Maybe, I don’t really know anymore

Carly: there’s loads johno can’t do but whos putting that on him rn but the lad himself? hes not married off yet

Ali: He acted like that’s what I asked him for, like I’m that delusional

Carly: its donkey’s before hes got to get tied down, time for u to get bored & pick me instead 🌈❤️🧡💛💚💙💜🌈

Ali: Always, honey 💞

Carly: if yous are gonna talk I should teach you his lingo, how would he get out of it then?

Ali: 💡💡 I’m ready to learn

Carly: come over when you want your 1st lesson

Ali: Is Ronan still coming for a makeover?

Carly: idk sounds like hes after an off the peg scare, probably no

Ali: Bless him

Ali: I’ll finish up here then come over 🔪🎃

Carly: k ill get myself in the 🚿 so you can play w your 🔪 some more 🩸🩸

Ali: 😱😱😱

Carly: screamings the 1 thing I’m good @

Ali: not having that slander excuse you

Carly: 😶 sorry

Ali: 😁

Carly: 🎃 like

Ali: I’m just preparing my 😁s for being ignored all night

Carly: ah never we’d all of us wife you

Carly: cept maybe moses

Ali: What could be more of a 🔪 to the heart, eh

Carly: but hey hes bigger wounds to 👅 for johno saying that @ the rest to see when theyre dressed up

Ali: definitely not the end of that

Carly: be 1 gas party w their carry on

Ali: I don’t know how they’re expected to ever get on, they’re too different

Ali: it doesn’t work

Carly: least theyve vans of their own, imagine if they were to share together

Ali: I can very easily imagine, it’s too familiar 😬

Carly: sorry I keep talking you into a downer today ☔️🥺😢 swear i dont mean to

Ali: it’s not you it’s my 🧠

Ali: But we’ve got time to bring the party before the party

Carly: I’ll fix it 🍄🍭🍬🌿🌼

Ali: 🌈☀️

Carly: nothing in your 🧠💭 u don’t want there 🌞💛

Ali: sounds too nice for the night 🖤🧡

Carly: treats for you cos ily & tricks for the mean boys

Ali: 😈👿

Ali: least they aren’t all bad

Carly: & none of em are that bad

Ali: Do you forgive Moses?

Carly: idk

Carly: I was warned, he only did what he said hed do, get bored & be done its my fault more than his for it happening soon as

Ali: No it’s not, that’s just an excuse

Ali: he’s back sniffing around again, he just doesn’t like anything permanent for any length of time

Carly: I wasn’t trying to make nothing permanent but he hears what hes after hearing not what I say

Ali: Yeah, it’s his terms or no terms, perhaps he thinks it makes him more exciting, keeps you on your toes

Carly: it does work im here 🩰

Carly: my god whats wrong w me?

Ali: If I knew how to fix that I would tell you

Ali: I hate it

Carly: dont be 😤😠 @ me though

Carly: please you cant

Ali: Never

Ali: just myself and these mean boys

Carly: not at yourself neither cos youre the best thing thats ever ever happened to me

Ali: I’ll cry

Carly: sorry

Carly: but everything were way less grand before you started coming round seeing me & I don't reckon I’ve told you that enough for how true it is & how I seriously didnt know what to do w myself

Ali: I need you too, you make it bearable

Carly: im crying 🥺😢😭

Ali: I’m sorry

Ali: it felt like maybe everything would be wrong forever, but not everything is now

Carly: he cant have you in the dark like that when you’re my 🌞💛

Ali: We can’t blame that one on him, s’okay

Carly: a bit lately but nah I won’t 💪🥊🤕 him yet

Ali: You’re impressed with him right now if anything, remember

Carly: hes never been hot to me before idk where im putting that now if I don’t fight him but k

Ali: oh god 😏

Carly: must remember its john boy & yer man there hates me

Ali: I’d be doing you a disservice if I tried to say nah at this point

Carly: deep breaths and 10 hail marys or whatever, be grand, so 🙏📿🔮🧿

Ali: My father would disown me if I had to start praying

Carly: maybe I’d find mine in ⛪️ would explain where hes been & y ive not seen the fella up til

Ali: [her mum]’s own nun days, like

Carly: that’d be the day 😅 but shes made plenty men feel theyve something to regret to be sure, fair play if theyve decided to find their man jesus about it & have a talk to him

Ali: True love story right there tbh

Carly: its no u & johno but it’s cute still

Ali: 🤪

Ali: Shh you

Carly: 😶💛

Moses: [Private to Carly, during this party, closer to the start of energy]

Moses: Is [this gal, still the wrong name, probably a different one lol] enjoying herself?

Carly: [her actual right name again like ffs]

Carly: idk hopefully 💀🎃😈👻

Moses: 🤣

Moses: She looked better in her work clothes, sadly

Carly: shes a cute 🧟‍♀️💚 don’t be mean

Moses: Well, yous look better

Carly: boy dont start

Carly: tomorrow someone else’ll look better

Moses: Tonights the night, girl, why are you worrying about tomorrow for?

Carly: cos

Moses: ‘Cos you don’t have a good answer to that, means you must be wrong

Carly: maybe theres the answer u always make me feel like it

Moses: Come on, that’s not true

Moses: I made you feel plenty of ways

Carly: yea & then we both made ro feel bad

Moses: He never, Johno caused a scene about it, that’s all

Carly: me & him’ve not been the same since, has he w you?

Moses: ‘Course, we’re brothers

Moses: he’s just embarrassed with you

Carly: im 😳 of myself like

Carly: why did u tell me to?

Moses: Someone has to, I thought you two were friends

Carly: we are

Carly: it shouldve been up to him though

Moses: Everyone needs a nudge

Carly: k well you nudged me out so whats this now?

Moses: Don’t you miss me?

Carly: you invited her, you dont miss me

Moses: Now I do

Carly: dont you want her?

Moses: No

Carly: she’ll be 🥺😢😭

Moses: She’ll be grand, still a party isn’t it

Carly: I just dont see why youre after leaving her out when we dont have to

Moses: ‘Cos I want someone else, so do you

Carly: you want me to bring you a private party

Moses: I want you to bring Ali along

Carly: sorry, johno called it right, she dont want you

Carly: I can’t

Moses: You could, and she could like me if she gives it a chance

Carly: read it as I wont then

Moses: Why not?

Carly: she likes someone else & even if she never youre not deserving of no chance w her

Moses: Poor Carly

Moses: who does she like then?

Carly: 😶💙 sorry

Moses: I’ll find out, and I will make her forget about whoever it is

Moses: I just thought you’d like to be there too

Carly: 🍀🐇🌠 to you, you’ll have need of it

Moses: I’ve got it all in spades, you know that

Carly: I know what youve both got why I said it

Moses: I’ll see you later then, Carls

Moses: got ☠️ shit to do

Carly: we can have another 🧊🍋🥃 party when you find her & she 💪🥊🤕 you, sure

Moses: 😆

Moses: Don’t you reckon I can be nice when I have to?

Carly: I reckon she’ll see through how nice youre being but hey on you go itll be gas for the rest of us watching u try

Moses: You don’t have to be relegated to just watching, what are you afraid of?

Carly: you, but ali’s not

Moses: You’ve no need to be afraid of me, I gave you everything you wanted

Carly: I didnt want it to end like that

Moses: You stopped playing the game properly, if you’d not have been so clingy, things could’ve been different

Moses: no one smacked you over it, that was me

Carly: clingy? you have yourself no knowing of the word mosey

Moses: I don’t blame you, you never can help yourselves

Carly: you said youd look after me

Carly: but instead you left us to what couldve happened if johno had decided to take it out on me too

Moses: I knew he’d never do that, you dope

Carly: he hates me & hes not the only 1

Carly: im not safe here but all youre after bothering yourself w is putting ali in the same danger herself

Carly: I love her I’d never

Moses: Sure, what has ever happened to you or your ma?

Moses: Nothing, that’s what

Carly: no tah to you for my 🍀🐇🌠

Moses: Didn’t I take that beating for you

Carly: yea, give u that

Moses: and the other one for you and Ronan

Carly: just for tonight, is it?

Carly: tomorrow it never happened

Moses: Cold, girl 💔

Carly: you was 1st 🧊🥶🧊

Carly: & when I only ever melted for you 😳🍨

Moses: You let me make it up to you or you don’t

Carly: you’ll not tell the others this time?

Moses: I didn’t last time

Carly: I dont wanna talk about it no more when theres how you’re to make it up me

Moses: Wait and see

Carly: wait where?

Moses: Stay with [this girl, name wrong again but on purpose this time so amusingly so lol]

Moses: I’ll find you

Carly: k 💙

Carly: [Private to Bartley, during this party still when she either sees the kiss itself or Moses’ posts about it, but feel free to leave replying until the next day if you want]

Carly: aw cute 💋💓🥰💘

Carly: whos she? 🤠🤎

Bartley: [replying later but still the night of, just not immediately or soon after]

Bartley: None of your business

Carly: k I’ll talk to her if youre too shy

Bartley: I’m not shy I just don’t love attention the way you do

Carly: the way I do

Carly: why are you needing to go right for slagging me?

Bartley: Oh, I wonder

Bartley: I thought you’d learn to be more careful

Carly: if youve shit to say, out w it, boy

Bartley: He will never care about you and you’re an idiot

Bartley: not even the first idiot he’s tried it on with tonight

Carly: he had making up to do to me & he did like

Bartley: Who was making up to who

Carly: I just said ⬆️

Bartley: Please, he got what he wanted

Carly: me too

Bartley: Ha, you’re disgusting

Carly: cos I let him touch me?

Carly: hope youre talking nicer to that girl now youve got near her whoever she is

Bartley: Because you let him use you, after he’s showed you and everyone what he thinks of you

Carly: you think idk before what yous all thought of me?

Carly: ive always & yous all have made sure its so

Bartley: None of the rest of us have treated you like he has

Carly: none of yous have treated me no better neither

Bartley: You’ve got to be joking

Carly: least he was offering to make me feel better for a bit

Bartley: He was offering for himself

Carly: idc i got something out of it

Bartley: Wow

Carly: why’ve you forever got to have your opinion?

Carly: its a party im only trying to have some fun same as u

Bartley: It’s a party now but when he tells you to fuck off again you’ll be the one losing it

Carly: & its nothing for you to bother yourself with when I do

Bartley: Yeah, right

Bartley: works grand when your mammy doesn’t notice

Carly: sure look go 🍻💜🎵🎶💜🤠 instead of giving it out to me about the mammy ive got

Bartley: You’re a liability to everyone and Moses won’t be the one bothering when you are

Carly: this where you come again w the threats, is it?

Carly: very spooky scary 💀🎃😈👻

Bartley: Sure, it’s funny that I bothered trying to look out for you, hilarious

Carly: since when are we calling it that?

Carly: you’re only after having a go @ me

Bartley: I was warning you but I won’t bother again, use it does

Carly: my god, we used to be friends

Carly: why is this only how we talk

Bartley: Why do you keep letting Moses ride you

Carly: im not asking why you kissed your girl

Carly: it felt good & u wanted to

Carly: why am I to jump through hoops defending myself cos its moses?

Bartley: It isn’t the same thing, you don’t know anything about it

Carly: for you cos youre a boy & Im a girl but its not my culture & still yous all wanna judge me like it is

Bartley: Enough your culture your ma wants to live here

Bartley: and that isn’t what I meant

Carly: ah well you dont mean you love her u met her tonight, no?

Bartley: Why do you keep bringing that up, it’s just a kiss

Bartley: you and Mosey did a whole lot more

Carly: k so its different cos you stopped yourself?

Bartley: It’s different ‘cos it’s a party and she’s just some girl, she doesn’t live here

Carly: yea, ive known yous all donkey’s & you might never see that girl again

Carly: but I’m the whore & youre the big man

Carly: how can you not see its backwards?

Bartley: Can’t you see that that’s backwards, you should be like a sister

Bartley: and I don’t think I’m a big man, Moses is the one that posted it, he’s always on the wind-up, as you should know

Carly: when have I ever been treated as 1? & sure how am I to start behaving like yours or his when ive not ever?

Carly: even ro went for it

Bartley: Of course they’re going to, they’ve got no self-control

Carly: you reckon its up to me to have it all & my fault i dont

Bartley: Someone has to, don’t they

Carly: I’m sorry

Bartley: I don’t need you to apologise

Bartley: I just thought you’d wised up about him

Carly: yea, be grand if I had sense

Bartley: You aren’t as stupid as you fake being

Carly: ah hey dont be nice to me bb 😵‍💫

Bartley: I know, the bar is in hell, like

Carly: w you lads

Carly: but I shouldnt have said you was as bad as moses

Carly: its not true, sorry

Bartley: You still like him best so make that make sense

Carly: i’m 😤😠 @ myself not u

Carly: for liking him

Bartley: So you should be

Bartley: he can be a laugh, to us, I don’t know what you’d see in him though

Carly: youre not gonna think hes unreal how i do hes your blood & another lad itd get you disowned x2

Bartley: You can say you think he’s handsome without accusing me of being a queer, thanks very much, I get it 🤢

Carly: id never say nobodys handsome but its proper cute you have done 💚

Bartley: As I’m not a massive gay, I’m not going to say any of the nonsense you might

Carly: idk maybe your girl would like it ive made a friend in the 🧟‍♀️💚 mosey invited 🌈❤️🧡💛💚💙💜🌈

Bartley: She’s not my girl

Carly: dont you like her?

Bartley: Our costumes just matched, Moses brought her over

Carly: if he made u kiss her you can tell me ill 💪🥊🤕

Bartley: No he didn’t make me, I wanted to, sure

Bartley: I’m just saying, idk her

Carly: least youve saved me from having to 💪🥊🤕 idk how thatd go for me like

Bartley: Not well, even if he’s not meant to fight back proper, you’re too scrawny

Carly: sure im 😵‍💫 already only 💭 of it but please no need to have us sounding like a shite 🐓 in the 🍗 way too, is there?

Bartley: You’re gas

Bartley: I’m not paying you no compliments though

Carly: boy, theres 1 itself 😅

Bartley: not about your 🍗🍗

Carly: keep them opinions to yourself tah id cry else

Bartley: Don’t be doing that, there’s nothing wrong with you

Carly: 🥺 what?

Bartley: Ack, don’t take the piss

Carly: its you turning me 🙃 by not being mean no more

Bartley: You go weird when I’m nice, that’s why

Carly: sorry idk what to do w how sweet you can be when you want

Bartley: I’m not sweet, don’t go spreading that around

Carly: 😶💚 but you are 💚👽🌱🦗🍐🍃🍏🍀🧃🥝💚

Bartley: What does all that mean, like?

Carly: what I said, you’re cute & sweet sometimes

Bartley: all the emojis

Carly: what of it youre 💚 ive told you before too

Bartley: Idk anyone else who uses them like you do

Carly: wow theres 2 compliments youve given

Carly: you feeling k or do you need to sit yourself down?

Bartley: No, that weren’t a compliment, big head

Carly: oh but I’m taking it as 1 & how are you to stop me?

Bartley: 💩💩💩💩

Carly: 😅

Bartley: Don’t do it again, yeah

Carly: moses or the taking of compliments w out your permission?

Bartley: You know which

Carly: if you see that girl again

Carly: you should have yourself 1

Bartley: I might

Carly: or another but shes to be at least as cute 🤠🤎 & hopefully sweet herself

Bartley: Or what are you gonna do?

Carly: only way to find out is go against what ive said & youd be a dope to when its for your own good 🥄💚

Bartley: Don’t recall agreeing to let you run my life for me

Carly: you asked for a sister of me

Bartley: I reckon I just said like a

Bartley: as well as should be, not to act exactly like [your oldest sister]

Carly: careful what you wish for bb 🔮💜

Bartley: 🙄 Divvy

Carly: hows you acting up like a little brother when youre meant to be older?

Bartley: You think you’re dead mature now, is it?

Carly: more than u 👶🍼

Bartley: Fuck off, nothing about you is mature, girl

Carly: is 😝

Bartley: You only think that ‘cos Mosey boy is older

Carly: & hes no complaints, my personality aside

Bartley: Not to your face, no

Carly: ive my own not to his face idc

Bartley: Suit yourself then

Carly: come on i can guess what hes told yous about me with no need to ask you to your face

Bartley: He’s not said anything to us, John would shut him up

Bartley: he rates girls though, just how lads are when you’re not around

Carly: go on what am I rated?

Bartley: I’m not saying

Carly: tell me you cant not let me have the knowing when youve said I’ve already got a number

Bartley: Ask him your bloody self, it’s his scale

Bartley: except don’t because you’re not meant to know

Carly: please

Carly: i won’t say I know or you told or nothing

Bartley: [do tell her, however offensive this is]

Bartley: you asked

Carly: oh

Bartley: He’s done it with loads of girls, that’s all

Carly: [don’t reply because you’re genuinely really upset about this and cannot because you have to go and spiral]

Bartley: I’m sorry for telling you, you shouldn’t have pestered us

Carly: I’m sorry I asked

Bartley: You aren’t the worst

Carly: [again don’t reply because that doesn’t make you feel any better and you’ve got getting messy so you don’t cry until later with that as your excuse to do]

1 note · View note

vallentinerry · 2 years

Text

Cookies & Cards

Pairing: boxer!h and nurse!y/n

River (M)- 3

Where it’s Valentine’s Day and River makes cookies and cards with Mama and Papa.

wordcount: 1k+

It was 3 AM on a school night.

You just came back from your midnight shift at the hospital to find your husband and child making cookies. To say that you were confused was an understatement.

"You know I used to be a baker?" Harry says to his River, handing him the spatula with cookie remains.

"Really?"

"Mhm, I was super good. Like star baker." Harry proudly grins as the young lad smiles adoringly at his dad.

"Oh please! Don't lie to your child, H." You snort putting the cards River made in envelopes.

"Hey! I was!" He pouts at you, bottom lip sticking out.

"You were the cashier, bubba." You giggle at him, standing up to wrap your arms around his neck.

"Don't be smart with me baby, I'm trying very hard to control myself from throwing you over my shoulder and fuck you till your pretty pussy cant take it anymore." He whispers lowly to your ear, groping your butt and biting your earlobe before pulling away.

"Careful, wouldn't want to put another baby in me, no?" You tease dragging your hand on his chest.

Harry kisses his teeth, eyeing River who had his tongue out currently too busy drawing hearts around the envelope. "Don't be so sure baby." he rasps before patting your cheek gently.

You smiled at him, leaning onto his touch. He pressed your bodies together, arms wrapping around your waist and swaying your bodies to "Can't Help Falling In Love".

"Hey look were having our rom-com moment." You mumble to his chest, face enveloped in his body.

He chuckled to your hair, feeling incredibly happy and warm.

Meanwhile, River stared at his parents smiling sleepily at them, face on the palm of his hands. He told himself to remember this moment and tell his cat, Holiday or Holly so when he's old like papa Holly will remind him to dance with them just like his papa does.

River woke up all giddy and smiley than usual. It surprised you as he's not a morning person at all-- a trait you blamed his Uncle Zayn.

You stood there leaning at the doorframe, watching as Harry taught him how to tale care of himself properly. You were happy that just like his dad, he wanted to have a skincare routine and look nice.

"Okay--no you don't do that. Watch papa so you brush like this-- There you go! Good job! See you look like a proper beauty, Riv." He high-fives the blushing child.

River absolutely loved being complimented, but he also didn't know how to act so he just blushes cause it does make him shy.

"Hm... I wonder where this beautiful boy got his looks?" You tease, hooking your hand under Harry's chin to press a peck on his lips and doing the same to your son but on his forehead.

"Zio Zayn." River shrugs. He felt proud of himself for remembering what his uncle Zayn said.

"Oh god." You laugh face-palming yourself.

"Please don't tell me he taught you to say that, Riv." He said with a fake pout, while the young boy giggle.

"Sciocco papà!" He points out pressing a slobbery kiss to the furrow of his eyebrows.

"What'd you say? I'm silly? You-- Get back here!" He playfully growls running after the small child that has slipped out of the bathroom.

You let out a hearty laugh, shaking your head when you saw the two throwing stuffed animals at each other.

River walked in his classroom feeling extremely proud of himself for the cookies and cards he made.

"Happy Valentines day, everyone!" Miss. Ariana -- his teacher-- greets the class while everyone cheers. "So, River has a gift for all of us. Would you like to tell everyone what it is?"

River's cheeks were burning, his hands were shaking with nervousness as everyone was staring at him. "U-um my papa and I m-made cookies. They're vegan s-so, no allergies. And mama helped me with c-cards." He wanted to kick himself so bad. Unfortunately, he inherited his dad speech disorder. So he has to remind himself to talk slow.

"Hey! Why is it powerpuff girls? Are you a girl?" One of the boy in his class called out while everyone laughed.

"I-I'm sorry." Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. So very stupid.

"Perché sei così stupido?" (Why are you so stupid?) He tells himself hiding under his sweater more.

He sat down in his seat, looking ahead to prevent himself from crying. He just wanted to hug his cat and never try to make friends again.

"Hey! That's not true. I watch Pokémon and I'm not a boy! Why are you being mean?" A girl with red hair and blue eyes stands up, putting her hands on her hips.

The boy stays quiet, while Miss. Grande smiles at them. "Thank you Lyra. And Jackson--"

He didn't listen to what the teachers were saying anymore. He just kept tearing all the other cards that he was supposed to give to the guards and teachers.

This interests Lyra though, so she stands up grabbing her crystal with her and sitting next to River. She wondered why they didn't want to sit next to him. In her opinion, he was always the cleanest one. Never playing in the mud and if he does get dirty he always washes his hands. And he smelled nice too.

"Hi. I'm Lyra Tomlinson. You are?" She beams at the boy.

This only startles River though. He snaps his attention to the girl beside him, ripped up cards still in his hands and big Y/E/C staring at her blue ones.

"Oi! No ripping! They look supah good, don't waste your time" She tells him grabbing the pieces of paper from him.

"V-veramente?" (Really?)

He still had a hard time with his English and despite him studying and living in Italy, he studied in an International school so almost everyone spoke or knew how to speak in English.

"Oh wait oh wait, I know what that means! Now where in the peanut butter and jam is my dictionary?" Lyra says practically showing her entire head in her bag.

"Peanut butter and jam?" River smiles cheekily in amusement.

"Mhm, it's what my dad says cause when he says 'fuck' he gets smacked by my mummy."

"My papa says fuck t-too!"

"Hey! You speak English!" She puts her hand over her mouth while River giggles.

"Y-you wanna know a secret?" River lowers down his voice.

Lyra had to press her ear to his mouth really close, cause he already talks quietly.

"Yes! Yes! Yes! Tell me!"

"I talk in Italian so th-they leave me alone." He shrugs smugly.

"So you didn't want to talk to me?" She pouts.

"No! Io faccio!" (No! I do!)

"I don't understand but let's just pretend you said yes." She scrunches her nose at him before turning back to the teacher as she starts the lesson.

River felt like the happiest person in the world. He finally made a friend, and she called his cards "supah good". He smiles to himself and without knowing it he's blushing. Again.

River felt extremely rebellious.

He was never allowed to eat dessert until dinner as his dad is really obsessed with his food intake and clean eating. But here he is, eating Lyra's cookie.

Lyra was very persistent with sharing her cookie, only because River was not a talker. And maybe this will give her brownie points? She was new to Italy and didn't have much friends and to her River was the most interesting one.

"That's so cool that your name is River!" She gushes, mouth filled with cookies.

River only blushes, mumbling a small, "Thank you."

"And this cookie is supah good!"

"Did you know my dad was a baker?" He told her, wiping the corners of her mouth.

"I wanna be a baker, but I might eat all of the food." She sighs.

"Anch'io." (me too)

"You know my papa said that my name is Lyra because it sounded like music and he likes music. But then my mom was like, 'No that's not true. Lyra's a star.' or whatever big word that I can't say." She starts rambling on about a pig she found on a river and that apparently reminds her of him.

It felt nice to have a friend.

cute ass mfs

#Harry Styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles boxer #boxer harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles blurb #Boxer!Harry #one direction #one direction fanfiction #louis tomilson #Zayn Malik #liam payne #Niall Horan #boxer! harry #boxer!h #myasshurts

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thatlovelyhenryhoe · 2 years

Text

Alexy chats

A/n: It’s safe to say that my way of entering fandoms (officially) is by writing chat fics which end up being 10 chapters long, per public request. Should be fun i guess 😂

Warnings: swearing, mentions of killing, chaos

Taglist: @smiling-girl

————————————-

(15 September, 17:30)

A: morning you idiot

H: Dear Alex, Please address me with respect. Yours sincerely, Prince Henry of Wales

A: you did not just stay that

H: Please go more in depth regarding what I said and how it may have offended you. Sincerely, Prince Henry

A: the royalty card? You boring cabbage

H: I notice our conversation is taking an unprofessional turn. I will have to ask you to be respectful when talking to me and only converse If it is crucial.

A: nah, you’re fun to annoy

H: You seem to be doing a great job at that.

A: *gasp* oooh you gave up the formal endings!

H: I deeply regret it.

A: now I only have to convince you to give up punctuation and capital letters.

H: No chance, Mr Claremont.

A: ah go fuck yourself

A: seriously

A: one step forward, two steps backwards

H: Have a lovely day, Mr Claremont. Please do not text me again.

(16 September, 3: 48)

A: i can’t sleep

H: What time is it in America? Isn’t it late?

A: yes. Thats why im supposed to be sleeping

H: Have you drank any tea? Chamomile perhaps?

A: of fucking course you’d suggest tea

H: It has been proven that it has calming properties and helps you relax. I could send you an article I read about it.

A: oh yeah that should definitely put me to sleep

H: Perfect then. I’m sure the White House has a kitchen near your bedroom.

A: the article would be the tea, you dense gnome

H: Goodnight Alex.

A: im bored tho

H: Close your eyes and fake it till you make it.

A: when i see you i will strangle you to death

H: Dare you get near Shaan, young man?

A: Do I smell humour, lad?

H: Use “lad” again and I will block you.

A: What would you do If it were real life ;)

H: Goodnight. Alex.

(20 September, 14:35)

H: Good afternoon, Alex. I am writing this message to remind you of your visit to England in two days. Shortly after your arrival, there has been an interview planned and I would like us to go over information about each other. Would that be alright with you?

A: is this your strange way of getting to know people?

H: I assure you, when I am actually interested in befriending someone, I am much more pleasant.

A: im hurt

H: What is your favourite colour?

A: red, maybe

H: What MBTI type are you?

A: how is that necessary information

H: It tells me a lot about you. More than just the mask of “first son” that you have. Also, your zodiac sign please.

A: ENTP and Aries

H: Makes sense.

A: why what does it say about me

H: I’m surprised you haven’t looked it up yourself yet.

A: I like hearing people talking about me ;)

H: When I think you can’t get any more self absorbed.

A: shut up and tell me what I’m like

H: I suppose the main traits that characterise you would be that you often think big, you’re passionate and motivated, at least for a little while and you get bored easily.

A: well i am quite passionate ;)

H: Fuck off.

A: that’s your second swear word, your highness. Have you caught a cold?

H: Matter of fact, I have. That, however, does not give you a reason to mock my title.

A: to add to the info list: weak immune system and a bitch baby

H: I’ll have my assassins kill you in the most painful of ways.

A: why don’t you do it yourself?

H: Because. I am sick.

A: well isn’t the point to kill me anyway?

H: Do you seriously think I give a bloody fuck whether I give you the cold or not

A: who knew you were such a bad boy- a swear word and no punctuation

H: That’s it. Say your goodbyes. You’ll be dead in 24 hours.

A: Sure. Enjoy sipping tea, my love <3

*Henry choking on his tea while reading that*

(21 September, 1: 35 am)

A: HENRY

A: WHY DO I HEAR WHISPERS BEHIND MY BACK

A: I FEEL LIKE SOMEONE IS FOLLOWING ME

H: They will kill you at my command. Care to apologise now?

A: IM SORRY! I DIDNT MEAN IT I WAS JOKING! YOU CAN START A WAR, YOUR HIGHNESS PLEASE!

H: You’re pathetic.

A: Wait-

A: Please tell me that was not a prank.

A: Oh

A: oh god no

A: this is embarrassing

A: wow i really just begged

A: and was turned on by you calling me pathetic WHAT ARE YOU DOING TO ME YOU DEMON

H: I’ll keep that information stored. Good night Alex.

A: WAIT

A: COME BACK!

#red white and royal blue #rwrb #henry fox mountchristen windsor #alex claremont diaz #alex and henry #chat fic #rwrb fanfic #alex x henry #fluff #and chaos

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plant-flwrs · 4 years

Note

Could you do a Fred Weasley imagine where the reader is a neville Longbottom older sister but she never went to Hogwards so after the war when the Weasley see Neville there all shocked to see he had a beautiful sister who owns a bookstore near the joke shop. (Fred lives obviously)

the bookshop // fred weasley

masterlist!

a/n: i kind of lived out my dark academia fantasies with this one, my apologies that the description of the character is a little more detailed than usual, i couldn’t help myself.

summary: Fred discovers a quaint little bookshop with a gorgeous owner, who happens to be a Longbottom.

(3.6k)

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The joke shop’s door rarely stayed closed for longer than two minutes. People came in and out faster than Fred could count, and there was never too much empty space on the shop floor. He was grateful, truly, his dreams had come true. Sometimes, however, the noise could get to be too much.

“George!” he called from upstairs, looking down at his brother who was working the register.

“Yeah?” George called back, not looking up as he counted some change on the counter.

“I’m going out for lunch,” he shouted over the noise, slipping on his coat as he made his way down the stairs, “d’you want anything?”

“Where are you going?” George asked, leaning against the counter with two hands as the next person in line loaded all their products on the counter.

“That café next to the bookstore down the street. The one with the sandwiches you like,” Fred was on the ground floor by now, patting his pockets to make sure he had his wallet.

“Yeah,” George said, smiling, “get me that tomato basil sandwich, would you?”

Fred nodded, navigating his way through the crowd. He picked up some fallen products on his way, putting them right, and adjusted some mismatched labels on his way out.

He took one last look at the shop before he slipped out the front door.

The silence and frosty air outside was a stark contrast to the humid and noisy inside of his shop, and Fred took a deep breath, savoring it.

The only sound was the crunch of snow beneath his feet, for it was an oddly empty day in Diagon Alley. He moved to the right side of the street, where the café was, and looked in the shop windows. He came across a small store with a few knitted products in the window, and one scarf in particular stuck out to him. Christmas was nearing, and he swelled with happiness at the thought of buying the scarf for Ginny. Shopping was one of his favorite things to do in his adulthood, having grown up poor, he now found it very satisfying to be able to pick up something he’d liked and not look at the price tag before buying it.

He walked into the shop, hearing the little bell above his head ring at the door opening. He quickly found the scarf and paid for it, leaving with a small brown bag in his right hand. He continued on the street, still looking in the windows of stores as he passed.

He was nearing the café, passing the bookstore next to it. He looked in the window, his eyes scanning the books in the display. Christmas decorations littered the front of the store, and the display case had been enchanted so fake snow was raining down on the books. He stopped in front of the store, looking in at the other Christmas decorations inside. He watched the few customers in the store gazing at the tall bookshelves, and saw a familiar face resting against the till counter. He had no hesitation, opening the glass door to the shop with an excited rush.

“Longbottom?” he called, smiling widely at the boy he recognized at the counter.

“Fred!”

Neville pushed off the counter he was leaning against, taking a few steps to hug Fred.

The old friends patted each other on the back, breaking from their embrace.

“I haven’t seen you in ages!” Neville said, grinning jovially at the older man.

“Been too long,” Fred said, straightening his coat, “you could have stopped by the shop, it’s just down the road.”

“I’m not usually in Diagon Alley these days, just here helping my sister out for the day,” Neville explained, nodding his head.

“Your sister?” Fred asked.

“Oh yeah,” he said, looking around the shop and gesturing to it with his hands, “she owns this place.”

“Really? I walk by here almost every day, what’re the odds?” Fred joked, making Neville chuckle.

“You’ve probably seen her. She’s just in the back now, got a new shipment of the books for the next school year at Hogwarts,” Neville explained, pointing towards a door that probably led to the back of the shop.

“You oughta stop by the joke shop before you leave, come see George,” Fred said, patting Neville’s shoulder.

“I just might, depends on how hard I’ll be worked today,” Neville joked, turning to see his sister coming from the back room.

Fred turned to look too, and upon seeing her his jaw almost dropped. She carried a stack of books that were piled so high they nearly covered her face. He watcher her long legs move with purpose through the shop, her body twisting with agility to avoid bumping into displays or bookshelves. She wore dark tights, which trailed seamlessly at her ankles into shiny black boots that made a clicking noise against the hardware of the floor. Fred enjoyed the sound, which made him realize how calm her store was compared to his. He watched her set down the stack of books on an empty table with a lavender colored tablecloth on it. She wore her dark hair, the same color as Neville’s, Fred noticed, in a braid off to the side of her face. A large and baggy sweater covered her torso, tucked into a plaid skirt. He watched her hands move easily through the books, organizing them with precision.

“That’s your sister?” Fred asked, sounding awestruck.

“Yeah, that’s my sister. Don’t sound so surprised,” Neville said, faking an offended tone, “and stop ogling her, too.”

Fred tore his eyes from her, meeting Neville’s again.

“Sorry, mate. Just didn’t expect that,” Fred chuckled, sounding dazed.

Neville rolled his eyes, used to his mates finding his sister attractive.

“You two should definitely come by the shop later,” Fred teased, sending Neville a wink as he slipped out of the shop.

You noticed a man leaving the shop, looking up from your books, “Come again!” you called to him.

You looked back down, unaware of Fred’s lingering gaze as he looked at you for a moment longer from the window.

Fred put in his and George’s order at the café, feeling completely distracted. He nearly didn’t hear his name being called when his order was ready.

The shop was just as busy as when he left, and he and George ate their lunches quickly while still tending to business.

The sunlight faded outside, and soon the streetlights from the alley flooded the windows of the shop. The shop was nearly empty, and George was just about to flip the ‘closed’ sign on the front door. Something stopped him, however, as he took one last look outside the window. He saw Neville and a girl walking towards the shop.

“Neville?” he called, then turned to Fred in the shop, “Fred, Neville Longbottom is walking towards the shop right now!”

Fred smiled excitedly, moving from behind the counter to meet George at the door.

“Are you guys closing?” Neville asked, greeting the twins.

As Neville hugged George, Fred caught your eye. You smiled politely, and all he could do was stare at you with dazed eyes.

“Come in, come in,” George beckoned them in, brushing some snow off of Neville’s shoulder as he passed him.

Neville looked around the shop, his eyes taking it all in at once.

“This is brilliant,” he said, smiling widely at the twins.

“We love it,” George said, smiling back at Neville.

“Who’s this?” George asked, finally acknowledging you.

“I’m Y/n, Neville’s sister,” you said, reaching a hand out to shake George’s.

George took your hand, smiling at you.

You offered your hand to Fred, who snapped out of his trance, and shook your hand nervously.

“A Longbottom, huh?” George said, sounding jokingly disbelieving.

“Not you too,” Neville said, feigning annoyance.

You rolled your eyes, shoving your brother’s shoulder. Fred’s face warmed and George laughed.

“Y/n owns the bookstore near the café,” Fred said to George, finally finding words to speak.

“Really? We must’ve walked by there a hundred times,” George said cheerily, “what a coincidence.”

The four of you chatted for a while, you and Neville walked around the store while Fred and George explained almost all of their products to you with ease. It was getting late, though, and Neville looked at his watch.

“We ought to be going soon, lads,” he said, hugging his friends one last time before you both left.

You walked Neville back to your shop, unlocking the door and flicking on some lights as you entered. The string of soft red and green lights hanging from the walls lit the room, casting a soothing aura on the shop. Some books began floating like you had enchanted them to whenever someone entered the shop, spinning slowly so customers would be drawn to them. You looked around your shop for a moment, feeling very proud of it. It wasn’t as stuffed or active as the joke shop down the street, and it didn’t cultivate half the business, but it was still something to be proud of.

Neville moved to behind the counter, picking up the briefcase he had brought with him that day. You both walked to a side part of the shop, away from books and filled with other miscellaneous knickknacks you sold. In the center of one of the walls was a fireplace you used for the floo network, and Neville reached into a bowl on the mantel piece for some floo powder.

“I’ll see you at Gran’s next week for that dinner, right?” your brother asked.

“Yeah, I’ll be there,” you reassured him, knowing Neville was hesitant to go to your grandmother’s house without you, even if he was an adult by now.

You gave him a once over before he stepped into the fireplace, and smiled.

“You’re forgetting something,” you said teasingly, poking fun at Neville’s forgetful nature.

“Oh,” he said, putting the powder back in the bowl and looking down at himself, trying to figure it out, “what is it?”

You left the room, going to the front door near the coat rack. You picked up his jacket, folding it delicately as you walked back. You handed it to him and he draped it over his arm appreciatively.

“Thanks,” he mumbled, grabbing another handful of the powder.

“See you,” you said, smiling as he erupted in green flames.

You sighed to yourself, looking around the now empty shop. You walked around, doing a once over. You straightened a pile of pens, adjusted some books, and tugged at some tablecloths that had become askew.

You swept the floor and went outside to clean the windows, wiping off the fingerprints of little kids who had pressed their faces against the glass. You grabbed your coat, finally, and left for the day, walking through the cold snow to your flat.

Fred had went upstairs for the night, slipping into bed with thoughts of your bookshop clouding his mind.

It had been a week since you saw either of the twins, and dinner with Neville was in a couple of days. You stood behind the counter, working the till. You watched peaceful customers milling around your store, and helped checkout a young man who came in for some new quills.

Your one employee was back from their vacation, which was why Neville had come in to help that day, and you called them over to work the till. You went to the back, getting a few copies of a book you noticed was selling out considerably fast. It was another unoriginal book about Harry Potter and his story, but this time it claimed to have excerpts from Harry himself. People were always desperate to know the details about the boy, and even though you found it a little morally questionable, you had to pay the bills. You brought the books to the front, slipping them into their place on the shelf. You heard the ding of the bell above the door.

“Welcome in,” you called out, not looking away from the shelf.

Fred watched you, stood on the tips of your feet to reach the top shelf. He walked around the store, pretending to be reading the book jacket of a novel about the history of wand-making, waiting for you to look over at him.

You finally did, sending him a polite smile and walking over.

“Fred, right?” you asked, making sure you were talking to the right twin.

He put the book down in a hurried way, like he couldn’t stand to look at it while you were there for him to look at instead. He gave you a flustered smile, shoving his hands in the pockets of his dress pants. He wore a suit of some degree, you noticed, every day.

“Yeah,” he choked out, his voice an octave higher than you remembered, “Fred.”

He looked away from you, coughing with an embarrassed flush on his face.

“Fred,” he said again, forcing a smile as his voice was its normal sound.

“Fred,” you repeated, smiling at him.

You both looked at each other for a little longer than someone would normally look at another, but neither of you seemed to mind. You admired to wrinkles in the corner of his eyes that seemed to stay even when he wasn’t smiling. His jaw was sharp and strong, and a few freckles scattered on his neck.

He found his mind was blank as he looked at you. Of course he was thinking about how beautiful you were, but other than that, he realized he could not form a single coherent thought.

“How’s your shop doing?” you asked, sounding dazed.

“Hm? Oh,” he fought his way out of the fog he was in, forcing his mind to remember some words, “it’s good. Good enough for me to sneak out to come see you.”

His eyes nearly widened at his own words, he hadn’t even meant to be that forward. He supposed he couldn’t stop himself. You laughed softly, ducking your head down briefly. A strand of hair fell into your face, and Fred wanted to reach out and tuck it away.

“Sneak out? George keeping you on a tight leash?” you teased, unable to stop the bashful smile spreading on your face.

Fred chuckled, and you loved the sound, “I guess so. Told him I was going out to get some Christmas presents. So, I didn’t entirely lie.”

“Christmas presents,” you said thoughtfully, “I wonder if Neville will use that excuse if he has to help out here again.”

Fred chuckled again and you felt your knees go weak.

“He would never, hardworking guy, he is,” Fred said, casting his gaze to look around the shop.

“Did you have something specific in mind?” you asked, following his gaze, “In regards to Christmas presents?”

“Oh, well I’ve got Ginny down, and the rest are easy enough. Hermione and Harry are usually the one’s I’ve got trouble with. I mean, what do you get Harry Potter and the Minister for Magic?”

You giggled, thinking he was joking. His face remained the same, and you realized he was serious.

“You buy Christmas presents for Harry Potter and the Minister for Magic?” you asked, dumbfounded.

You hadn’t gone to Hogwarts, everything you knew about most people your age came from Neville’s poorly told rants when he would return from school over the summer. The boy had the worst memory though, and could often only tell you about the things that had happened in his last few weeks at the school. You knew, of course, that he knew Harry Potter. He didn’t shut up about it. You had never bothered to pick up one of the many books written about Harry, though. Neville always told you how much Harry had hated them, how stupid and inaccurate they often were. You sold them, but you would never read them.

“Of course I do,” Fred said, his tone still airy, “they’re my in-laws.”

Your eyes widened even more, finding this fact incredibly impressive. Fred spoke about it as if it were common knowledge. It was common knowledge, but you had a tendency to miss these sort of things. You had your head shoved in a book for most of your childhood, and even in your adulthood you spent more time reading novels than newspapers.

“Well,” you finally said, looking around your tiny little shop in embarrassment at the thought of Fred giving Harry Potter or Hermione Granger anything from it, “I don’t think you’ve come to the right place, I’m afraid.”

“What? I’m sure you’ve got something. Any collector’s addition books? Hermione’s a sucker for those,” Fred leaned in to mock whisper the last part to you, bending down a little to reach your ear.

You forced yourself not to blush as you nodded. You turned, motioning for Fred to follow you. You made eye contact with the employee on the register, telling her you’d be right back.

You led Fred through the curtain that separated the back of the store with the front. Fred’s eyes widened in awe as he entered the room. It was considerably taller than the public part of the shop; the ceilings stretched for miles. The walls were lined with shelves, like a library, but for some reason he knew these books were more personal than a library. Ladders were all over the place, some stretching the length of the wall, and some only a few feet tall. Boxes were stacked in almost all four corners, and a large table sat in the center of the room with open scrolls of parchment and scattered quills. Some knickknacks he recognized to be sprawled throughout the store were also on the table, as if they were the prototypes to the finished ones. The table reminded him of his own office back at his shop. It was often messy with papers stacked high, but he loved it.

He watched you walk into the room. You waved your hand and a rolling stool emerged from somewhere in the room. It came right under you as you began to sit, and you pulled yourself closer to the table. Your hands were moving through the papers, stopping occasionally as you looked at the writing on it. Fred milled around the room, looking in amazement at the shelves.

“Got it,” you said, bringing Fred’s attention back to you.

You stood from the stool, bringing the paper to Fred.

“It’s a rare copy of an ancient runes dictionary. Half of it is unrecognizable these days, which leads us to believe theres an entire other part of ancient runes we haven’t even discovered yet. Do you think she would like something like that?”

You nervously looked at Fred, expecting his gaze to be at the paper. It wasn’t, he was staring blissfully at your excited expression. He smiled, and you noticed the lines in the corners of his eyes deepen. You thought about how happy of a person he had to be to have such significant proof of it.

“She’ll love it,” he finally said, bumping his shoulder into yours.

You noticed how close you were to him. You had rushed over, nearly bumping into his shoulder as you stood to his side.

You bumped him back and walked to the table, setting the paper down on the stool. You walked over to the shelves, not even taking a second glance before you were waving over a ladder and climbing it.

Fred watched how high you were going, concern growing in his stomach. You leaned to the left, one foot coming off of the ladder step as you reached for the book. You pulled it out delicately as to not disturb the placement of any of the other books, and tucked it under your arm as you climbed back down.

“These shelves are a safety risk,” Fred said sarcastically as you hopped off the ladder from a few feet off the ground.

“Gotta keep things interesting when running a bookshop,” you retorted, pleased to hear Fred’s laugh from behind you.

He walked after you, following you to the table in the center of the room. You placed the heavy book of the table. Fred opened it, flipping through the pages quickly. He winced.

“I hated ancient runes in school,” he groaned, closing the book.

“I find it quite interesting to read about,” you replied thoughtfully, organizing a few papers you had messed up while looking around.

“The class was miserable, George and I took it our third year thinking it would be easy,” Fred mad a face to indicate it was not easy.

“Neville mentioned it to me a couple of times when he was figuring out what courses he wanted to take,” you said absently, “I told him not to; lots of memorizing and thats just not his strong suit.”

Fred smiled, picking up the heavy book.

“Got to get back to the shop?” you asked, putting down your papers and looking at Fred.

“Afraid so,” he said sadly, frowning a little.

“Well, lets go to the front then.”

You rang Fred up, putting his newly purchased book in a bag. His hand lingered on the handles before he took it off the counter.

“Would you want to get lunch some time?” he asked, rushing his words out so fast that you barely heard them.

“Lunch?” you repeated, smiling.

“Lunch,” he said, biting his lip nervously.

“I’d love to.”

Fred smiled wide, wider than you had seen him smile, and took his bag off the counter. He walked backwards a few paces, just so he could see your face for a couple seconds longer. He turned just in time, nearly hitting a table with stacked books on it. He walked to the door, casting glances over his shoulder at your blushing face every few seconds.

He stopped to stare at you from outside of the shop, until you waved him off in a hurry, hoping that your painfully red face would subside if his handsome eyes weren’t focused on you.

#fred #fred weasley #weasley #fred weasley fluff #neville longbottom #longbottom sister #fred weasley x longbottom #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley x you #fred weasley x y/n #fred lives #weasley wizard wheezes #diagon alley #harry potter #fred weasley fanfiction #fred weasley fic #fred weasley fanfic

623 notes · View notes

captainkurosolaire · 3 years

Text

Prompt #27 ~ Warfare

♫Till I Die♫

The fall of Garlemald's effects ran-through out the realm suddenly the shift of power had been flipped over. As many of the countrymen deserted, or those scattered, were pursued. Now they understood what it was like to be the spoils to war. Hunter's turned to prey. A privateer ship supporting under the banner of the Crimson. Chased pursued in the open seas of an attempted escape, a remnant squadron. Their division shattered as their Empire was crumbling to dust. The divisional commander of her ship was taking huge mortar's although the sea-vessel was sturdy and advanced, was taking blows, her men were taking hefty causalities, hearing in screams. They couldn't flee from this. In the fang's of revenge, under the skies of war, monsters were born. The people who once felt were fighting for righteousness, become no-better. These Privateer's were rejoicing. "Commander. Two more alliance accompanying vessels of the opposition have ascended over waves, we've nowhere to go!" The morale of her people were descending. "We've deserved this outcome. It was an honor." Her sentimental tone, spoke they'd rather imperial salute each-other, and commit suicide before becoming prisoners. Right in their contemplated end. The shift was about to turn again.

"A third vessel had wedged between the middle of their reinforcements!" Was shortly called out, giving them further, resolve of hopelessness, before... "Wait. The middle-vessel is bombarding the others!" Suddenly a massive ship rising over tides, removing the fake red Maelstrom banner had been withdrawn into an iconic pirate flag hoisted. Upon the bow-spirit was a tricorne-man. Treading past the destruction of two smaller privateers vessels. The ambush assault left them fodder out-maneuvered. Gathered man, etched in warpaint, they were banned ready for a fight. To intervene between this naval battle. The Seeker leapt back to his decks to bolster. "I would ask ye my Crew, within my helm. T' PRAY for yer enemies. Give them an early moment of silence. For these poor unfortunate soul's will b' educated, they'll earn their red-coats upon this Sun!" He roared and screamed with a warrior shout That followed behind others. "Give Boy-Lad his sea-legs. Let him earn his stripes t' walk over bones!" A crippled and amputated legless fighter crawled on the floor in disbelief, as Sol made augmented prosthetic legs. Unified chaos positioned, to invade the vessel of the privateer from behind. "Aid th' carrier of Garlean's, give all others no-quarter!" Viciously a stampede of leaps was drawn, it was anarchy. Projectiles flung back and forth, sniper shots from the crow's nest of the Worldly Finder started picking off them. Each Crewmate nearly about to be butchered by an opposition was protected by another, they fought as sword and shield, and reversed the roles. Rallied by a leader who was believed-long-flung dead. The brute Seeker skirmishes an assortment of parries to one of the swashbucklers before pulling out a sheathed revolver in the other hand and angling it under his chin and pulling the trigger in a massacre. Completely butchery. Blood of not his own making savagely drew over his face. As he bellowed another victoriously battle-cry that kept even his own injuries gaining on Crew to fight-on. The Garlean's left their hunker, to unity in bewilderment anyone would fight under their behalf. The Captain was almost executed by an aimed shot musketeer but was shot back by an assault rifle of the imperialist. The buccaneer brought terrifying laughter. "THEIR NUMBERS ONLY GIVE US MORE HEADS T' ROLL!" Not only bolstering morality to his own fighters, but also was making hesitation and fear start wearying the grip's of his oppositions, a tactician of dirty behavior. How long have they gotten to do anything they wanted? Or used the excuse of the Garlemald for them to justify or blame their heinous antics? These seas held no discrimination. Yet being constantly corrupted. Putrid borders, barriers for entries, they started skewering Beast Tribes because they strictly took advantage of the Calamity. They put a price-tag on the seas, owning it. Law and restricting and it's no different than what Captain's seen before, they're vindictive and greed-coated. Yet unlike Garlemald who were openly wanting to conqueror, the Maelstrom and Grand Companies alike played fantasy pretend. They're unbeatable, the good! Couldn't do any wrongs, existed of no poison. Bullshit, in war there was no such thing. It's a contest of ego. How many times had the Captain seen a Maelstrom get promoted after they violated his kinsmen, while preaching they were pirates... How many times did he watch them do nothing as people plead in the dirty-alleys before a gal went abducted and missing. These seas would find freedom from vile. Disarray and unorganized, suddenly being attacked by two-sides, the privateer's were being annihilated. Counter measured every-time they brought their marine scholars out, their magic was cancelled by the Historian of the Goldbrand, the purest faith in the Twelve, who brought them no harm, other than silencing their spells. The God's weren't on their side, they belonged to this pirate. That fiendish outcast hound of an Xaela, who ghoulishly shrieked, was feasting on arm's while slewing them in beheaded messes. A Quartermaster

followed by impaling them and hurling the smaller runt's of the enemies. Captain leapt up off that mountain of a Hellsguard on his Crew and bounced off his shoulders dexterously onto the stern. Exchanging in runaways some jumping overboard. "Draw them from th' seas back up here! Their corpses is unworthy t' share with the benthos!" Angry swarming came to their noisy vocalized leader. If they could just behead that blasted vermin then all of them would crumble to despair. He played defensively and evaded one of them about to slayed, was sniped from afar. The handicapped soldier got a puncturing stab on one of the men to protect his Captain before collapsing as his new leg's were already damaged and punctured. The Seeker picked up the adrenaline as blood cut's were protruding from his cheek. He threw his coat onto one of them and jabbed a series of quick deft dirks. A swishing blade came again as he relied on his above-feline scents. The thing he was mocked for by these giants. Doing a handstand leg, disarm from twisting the wrist of the deathly aggressor. The Seeker rolled away and jumped off the stern and swung a leap into the cabin, where he saw the frantic Head-Captain of this enemy helm, run-into, gathering up belongings to attempt plotting retreat. Unexpectedly a flintlock shot at his leg making him fall over all his glistening golds and gil he was trying to rummage into a burlap sack like a coward trying to recollect himself. He brought his own gun out but was disarmed by the wrist from another firearm shot, "Cap'n Daniwyrn... Ye have lost your sense. Recall me." These two knew each-other full and well, this was more than just a one-sided squabble, now. It held harboring emotion. "...Yer supposed t' b' blimey dead!" The callus blood-thirsty Seeker lowered his arm. "Dead is what ye did t' someone I loved. Well, I got yer message. Ye saw t' remove her head cause she moved t' me. If you couldn't have her, neither ov' us could." He lectured in all this chaos-warfare and took a menacing seat. "See, I am not here for revenge on you. This goes beyond that. Now, ye made a crime, sin I find very offensive..." The sea-wolf tried regaining himself while trying to also slowly scoot his bottom and get back his disarmed gun. Knowing was about to be sentenced to a horrific death, or believed. "You have tainted these seas, Daniwyrn. The punishment fer losing your sense. Is crueler than death by my hand. It's t' live as such." He shot the ear's respectively of the privateer. Then the Seeker stood up. Fiendishly brought out his coeurl toothed carved dagger and carved out eye to eye from his enemy. While he was screaming in anguish and incomprehensible pain never able to reel back. He cut that tongue like a fleeting ribbon.

Taking the senses of someone who lacked senses firstly. A fitting treatment, barbarically exercised. He bathed in all the blood over his inferior feline frame. "I know you can't hear me, see, nor speak, though I'm also a nice-guy, I'll leave ye with yer gun... if get the opportunity you should kill yourself." He'd savagely trail, beating his enemy who barely was functioning, stuck in a haze, discombobulated, suffering severe blood-loss. Loading and priming the revolver with one bullet, he'd force it into the arm's of his blind foe and make him squeeze it. Captain walked out as if this was just a regular circumstance. The duty of returning. Closing the cabin door. Hearing a procedure gun-shot ring-throughout. A signal was overhead horned, "They've got more crimson reinforcements!" The battle sizzled and the sparks were over. "Let us gather up, plunder post-haste. Burn this shite down." They took the Garlemald survivors and retreated, licking wounds but won victorious.

#Prompt - Benthos #FFXivWrite2021 #ffxivwrite2021 #FFxivwrite #tw: war mention #Tw:gore #tw: violence #ffxiv writers #Tales of the Goldbrand #long one'#Naval Battles #darker themes #-Captain Kuro Solaire #Creative Writing #Pirate

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