#weed with some guy and sure the guy ends up being a witch but damn the weed is good

[specialbrewbutterbeer]

Hi again, sorry for another request but I was reading what you would write and I thought of either hangman or rooster with sister reader (could have an age gap but it’s up to you) and she wanted to be a fighter pilot like her older brother when she grew up. They could be talking to the others and he tells them she died (it’s up to you, ignore this is your uncomfortable :)

Sister!Reader Who Wants To Be A Pilot Like Her Older Brother (Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw & Jake 'Hangman' Seresin)

TW: Angst! Super Angsty! Mentions death of a sibling, death of a parent, dangerous situations, hospital environments and sudden/unexpected deaths and greif

AN: I tried out this as a new format, not sure how it went but quite liked it- I'd love some feedback on how you found it and if you enjoyed it?

REQUESTS

MASTERLIST

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Jake 'Hangman' Seresin

- Jake is pretty open about his family

- And I mean OPEN

- If he tried to say that the guys haven't heard every story about how annoying it was growing up as the second eldest of four sons, he'd be lying

- Usually it was when everyone was swapping stories in the bar

- Lighthearted memories of being told he was gonna be a big brother again

- Screaming and crying about it

- Water fights in summer

- Him and his older brother chasing the others round with the hosepipe and a super soaker

- Launching baseballs at eachother's heads

- How he once threw one at his youngest brother

- How he'd dodged it

- How it'd gone through the kitchen window

- How angry his Mom had been when it landed in the sink whilst she did the dishes

- About how much his brothers sulked when he joined the Navy

- How his parents sent updates on all his siblings when he was away

- Pictures of them going to senior prom

- When his youngest brother made capitain of the school basketball team

- A picture of the second youngest brother in hospital with a broken arm

- Because he'd driven Jake's car (which he'd given to him with strict instructions not to damage it) into a ditch

- How his eldest brother was a real estate agent but how none of them would let him forget that he watched Practical Magic on VHS over and over in 2000 and told everyone he wanted to be a witch when he grew up

- It was clear that they were very typical

- Very happy

- But if you got him drunk enough

- And it were the right time of year

- He'd slip up

- 'Oh yeah- all five of us!'

- 'Joey, me, Ronnie, Cole and- and... That's us!'

- No one payed much attention to it

- He was being drunk

- Miscounting

- Forgetting

- Slurring his words a little

- Until finally

- One night

- Someone asked

- 'So- got other family in the military?'

- And he went awful quiet

- Sat back in his chair

- And all the words came tumbling out of his mouth

- 'Well- I did.'

- 'My baby sister.'

- 'I don't talk about her but, she was born when I was about seven, she was my favourite- well I was her favourite. She never left me alone.'

- 'She was real smart, a real sweetie and her favourite thing in the whole world was our grandma's cherry pie.'

- He'd laughed

- He was in his own nostalgic world now

- The others just wondered how she'd never come up before

- But they listened patiently

- No one dared interrupt, in case he stopped

- '(Y/n) should have gone to an Ivy league school- but no.'

- 'She told me she wanted to be a pilot, just like I was.'

- 'She told me she looked up to me, and she really did wanna do it.'

- 'God knows why- why she looked up at me, not Joey the valedictorian or Cole the sports star or even Ronnie! I know Mom busted him selling weed to his friends from the treehouse in our yard- but- damn! He at least made pretty good money doing that!'

- 'But I sat down, and I helped her fill everything out and we dropped it off at the mailbox at the end of the street. And she got in.'

- 'I never saw her more excited than that. And she was pretty well pumped up when she was voted prom queen.'

- It was then that Jake went quite again for a few minutes.

- 'She was real good.'

- 'She was real good at everything she did.'

- 'Hell- I hate to say it but she was probably better than me, certainly better than I was straight out of the academy.'

- 'Umm- She was unlucky though.'

- 'Just, about a week before she should have been done with all her training- I don't know. Something went wrong.'

- The look on his face was of some kind of latent sadness.

- He wasn't a vulnerable man.

- To see him this way, hear him talk honestly- without showboating, properly with guard down

- That was a rare and privileged experience

- And everyone sat around the table knew it

- 'Within 24 hours the whole family were there. and she was awake- talking- fine and perky as ever.'

- 'She just kept saying how she was bored in hospital, she was so worried she wasn't gonna be able to complete training.'

- 'I didn't really know what was going on, none of us kids knew how serious it was. We thought cos she was talking, awake and everything she was gonna be fine. No one told us what was goin on.'

- That last sentence was said with real anger and followed by the sound of his fist banging on the table.

- 'We just laughed at her and tried to be like normal. We thought she was gonna be fine.'

- 'But I remember Mom telling her that she'd had surgery to take fragments of her skull out of her brain.'

- 'I think maybe I knew then that it wasn't gonna be fine.'

- 'It wasn't gonna be fine like they said.'

- 'I didn't know she was gonna have a bleed on the brain and die in the OR as they tried to stop it though.'

- 'I didn't think it was gonna be that bad.'

- 'She probably knew nothing about it either."

- His heart sank.

- Speaking those words, in such a blunt way. That was the only way he could say them.

- It got it over with quickly

- He ground his teeth as he sat there

- Like he'd finally spilled a secret

- He almost wished they hadn't let him go on

- But he'd said it now

- And felt weird about it

- 'I'd headed back to work. When it happened.'

- 'I only got a few days leave- and since she seemed... Alright- I left.'

- 'I was the only one not in the room.'

- 'I was the one who put her there though.'

- 'Never should have let her do it.'

- 'I guess stupidity is in the genes though. She shouldn't have looked up to me- of all folk.'

- 'I miss her.'

- '(Y/n) was my baby sister, my responsibility.'

- 'And she would have beat all you suckers in a dogfight any day of the week!"

- He laughed.

- He was the only one who did.

- After that, there was some scrap of thought spared for Hangman, some mild sympathy.

- That callsign suddenly seemed slightly morbid

- Considering his need to take the blame.

- Maybe even some respect for having told the story too

- But (Y/n) came up in stories after that

- Like the missing link she filled the gaps

- How she got her brothers back by filling a super soaker with koolaid that stained them all blue for days

- How it had been her baby bottles their Mom had been cleaning in the sink

- How she'd sobbed and sobbed on the morning he left

- How he and his brothers had managed to make some calls around their small town to their old classmates, to ensure that their classmates younger siblings voted (Y/n) prom queen

- How she and Cole had had fallen out in highschool so badly that she had quit the cheer squad because they were refusing to talk and seeing eachother at every game whilst he was capitain annoyed her

- How Ronnie had put the car in a ditch going to pick (Y/n) up from a house party she wasn't supposed to be at

- How bitterly Joey had complained when their Dad made him remove his VHS copy of Practical Magic from the player and replace it with a Sesame Street tape for (Y/n)

- And how they'd all been so relieved when they had a sister, not another brother.

- She was all of their favorites.

- Even with her flaws.

- She was cocky and arrogant

- Argumentative

- Witty

- Sharp

- She was great

- She was all too much like her brothers

- And that's why they liked her.

- All of the guys,

- Rooster, Bob, Phoenix, Coyote and the rest,

- Decided that they were glad he'd told them about her

- He was happy when he talked about his family

--------------------------

Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw

- Bradley constantly talked about his family.

- Mom, Dad, Sister

- She was born just before her Dad had died

- They were close siblings

- Very close

- He lived and breathed for them

- His family

- He talked about how the receptionist in the foyer wore the same hairspray that his Mom had

- How he could tell by the smell of it

- It reminded him of sitting on her lap when she did her hair and make up in the morning.

- He talked about how he bought a Ford Bronco because his Dad had one

- How he had taken a picture of his Dad's to the dealership and the salesman had helped him figure out which colour matched the best

- It reminded him of being a kid, before it broke down and was scrapped

- He talked about his sister

- How great she was

- It didn't remind him of anything

- He spoke about her often

- And as if she were still alive

- No one ever guessed that wasn't the truth

- Even those who had known him before her death

- Who had even met her in passing

- Once or twice worked with her

- News like that usually travelled fast

- But it had been a bit hush hush because it had to be investigated by a panel of experts to see who's wrong doing it had been

- It had been a year

- Just over

- The report had been issued a few months before

- He could speak about it quite freely now

- But he couldn't find it in himself to do so

- So he just talked like she was still around

- To the extent that he made up a deployment overseas for her to be on

- It wasn't until Maverick overheard him talking about her one evening

- And just looked at him

- 'Bradley?'

- He'd spoken with total empathy and near enough pity

- He didn't know this was what Bradley had been doing

- It was then that his face fell

- He knew he had to give the game away

- Quietly he spoke

- Almost forgetting the friends he was surrounded by

- 'Mav, I don't know how else to deal with it-'

- His godfather just look at him.

- 'All my life I've had to deal with talking about my family, in the past tense.'

- 'She was the last one I had left.'

- 'I can't hear anymore 'I'm sorry's. I don't want anymore condolence cards.'

- 'I don't want that Mav.'

- Then he sighed

- And looked up

- 'Last September, she crashed.'

- 'Into the ocean just off of the coast of Cuba.'

- He stopped there

- Just thinking

- 'Nose dived right into the water.'

- 'Her WSO ejected, survived.'

- He paused, glance for almost a full beat at Maverick, then spoke as it transpired that Pete couldn't hold the eye contact.

- 'She didn't.'

- The silence in the room was tangible.

- Mav sat down beside his godson

- He knew every detail

- He'd made sure he'd known every detail

- He and Ice had pawed for days over every report before they were even released

- It was yet another illegal favour Tom gifted Pete.

- He relived her father's death through hers, and Bradley was experiencing it first hand for the first time

- Both felt intense guilt

- Another Bradshaw plunged into the freezing cold water

- Another one pulled out with no life left in em

- Another Bradshaw dead

- Fullstop

- She was gone

- Just like that

- 'They said she was coming into land on a carrier, went wrong.'

- 'It was probably instant.'

- 'I don't know if they just told me that to make me feel better or if it's true.'

- 'I hope it's true.'

- 'They said it was probably her mistake, and she almost definitely knew it was her own mistake, because she didn't eject.'

- 'She was fighting it all the way down.'

- 'It was a stupid thing to do.'

- 'Her WSO broke their back, probably won't walk again- but they'll live.'

- 'And they'll live a good, proper life.'

- 'She was just- Stubborn.'

- 'I don't know.'

- He finally felt like he was done talking.

- No-one quite knew what to say.

- A couple hearts were particularly heavy,

- Those that'd worked with her enough to know she was a good woman.

- But mostly the outpouring was for him.

- The fact that he'd never spoken about it.

- His relationship with Maverick was still healing, and yet was the only vent for the matter.

- That, they all knew, couldn't have been easy.

- 'She was a good pilot.'

- Mav spoke to fill in the silence.

- 'Really good.'

- 'Quick, technical.'

- 'And she loved it. Probably more than most people.'

- 'She just loved the flying- would have suited air shows, acrobatic stuff- more than the Navy.'

- Bradley gave a laugh and nodded.

- 'She was too clever and a show off.'

- 'She always liked the stories stupid stuff you and Dad used to get up to.'

- 'She wanted that.'

- Mav looked up at his Godson, a bittersweet sense of pride that his Goddaughter had thought his and her Father's relationship was something good enough to aspire to.

- A very different attitude from her brother.

- They had kept in contact.

- Not as much as she would have liked to

- And more than her brother thought Mav deserved

- But he wouldn't stop her

- And she kept enough distance as not to upset her brother

- And after they did make things up again

- They didn't get the chance before the crash to be together as a family again

- After all that Bradley and Pete had been through on that mission

- All the times they could have been killed out there in a far off land

- The multitudes of opportunities for them to be the ones to ruin the chance at playing at happy families

- To ruin the chance of coming home to their girl

- And she crashes and dies

- In what should have been a survivable accident

- on a routine exercise just miles off of the coast of her home

- 'She always thought she'd get to have that kind of fun, those kinds of friends for life.'

- 'I was the serious one.'

- Bradley smiled.

- 'I just-'

- The smile quickly faded.

- He wasn't ready to think back fondly yet.

- 'I don't understand why she didn't eject.'

- He spoke quietly.

- 'I don't know why she'd keep trying to save the thing'

- Mav sat there looking at his boy.

- A large, handsome man

- Who had come to regard as a son

- And who now reminded him of a boy again

- As he sat there

- Nursing a bottle of beer

- He'd seen reports that Bradley hadn't

- He knew that the WSO involved had given statements that said she'd told them to eject

- They'd expected her to follow

- But she didn't

- That the examination of the wreckage showed no signs of her even attempting to

- It couldn't even be put down to a failed ejection

- It was just...

- A fatal miscalculation?

- A misdiagnosis that she thought she could solve?

- But she knew it was dangerous.

- She knew it and told her WSO to eject

- The words he'd told his RIO all those years ago

- He'd seen her records

- He knew she had a history of hesitancy when it came to mock ejection tests

- She'd failed some of those tests three times over before she finally got the nerve

- He didn't want to tell Bradley that

- And he knew Bradley didn't want to dig that deep into the official verdict

- Bradley just knew it was 'pilot error'

- He didn't need to know more

- He didn't want Bradley to think that his baby sisters last thoughts were probably abject terror

- Images of her Father's fate

- Too scared too eject

- Maybe even too proud to admit she'd made a mistake that was going to be terminal for her jet

- Maybe she really did think she could save it

- And maybe Pete felt guilty more than ever before

- That all those years ago

- A Bradshaw ejecting from a stricken jet and dying, had killed another by making her too fearful of doing the same.

- And if Goose was his fault

- By extension so was she

- But there had to be some comfort to be had

- Maybe that she was with her Mother and Father

- Up there

- Forever in the sky she loved

- Neither of the two men were religious

- But to think they were all three together

- And one day they'd meet them all again

- That was a comfort

- And there was always a prayer, to whatever God that might hear them, that history never repeat itself again

- And there was always a thought spared for her and her parents

- And Bradley would eventually feel freed to speak about her

- And Pete would eventually feel freed to speak about Goose

- Even though it would take many years before either of them could speak with pride again about Goose or (Y/n)

- And somehow there was healing to be had and to be had together

---------------------

TAGLIST:

@gh0strr @sarahstar11 @sparrows-corner @piscesvancouverite @n3ssm0nique @sydneejean @20th-centu-fairy-girl @chaoticassidy @yjwnoot @hockeyboysarehot @inglourious-imagines @everyonehasanindividuality @callalily2000 @startterfly @roosterschanelslut @thespeeder @idfkwhyimhere4357 @annluca @dempy @vadinaleme @americaarse @bradshawsdarlin @foreverchasingtime @fangirlinc @luckyladycreator2

#pete maverick mitchell #top gun #top gun maverick #fic #topgun #rooster x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #sister!reader #bradley bradshaw x bradshaw!reader #bradshaw #nick goose bradshaw #goose #nick bradshaw #jake seresin #jake hangman fic #jake hangman imagine #jake hangman x you #jake hangman seresin #hangman #hangman angst #angst #hc #rooster #hangman x reader #pete mitchell #maverick #bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #fanfiction

[lithiumcreepblog]

for @stonathanweek's Stonathan Sunday. Prompt: Where are we supposed to get a chicken at 2AM on a Wednesday?

those witching hours

When Steve agreed to be Jonathan’s smoking partner for the night, he was expecting a chill hangout after a long day of recon, filled with long stretches of silence and only the occasional conversation every now and then. He wasn’t expecting this.

“Steve,” Jonathan interrupts his thoughts, eyes glassy and mouth curved into a grin. “Who is a chicken’s favorite composer?”

High Jonathan Byers is not what Steve expected at all. High Jonathan Byers is silly. He seems to find everything funny, falling into a fit of giggles at even Steve’s lamest jokes. High Jonathan Byers is talkative. He hasn’t shut up once since the weed kicked in, moving on from one topic of interest to the next with ease. But most importantly– and most dangerously– high Jonathan Byers is clingy. He keeps a firm arm over Steve’s shoulder the whole time, touching and bracketing Steve in his hold.

“I don’t know, Jonathan,” Steve smiles too. He has never seen Jonathan lower his inhibitions like this before. He has always only seen him worrying about twenty different things at once, never this relaxed or laid back. It’s a nice shade on him.

“Bach!” Jonathan shouts, and Steve lets out a snort. Even with Steve’s attempts at impressions from a while ago, this has to be the dumbest thing out of either of their mouths all night.

“That joke made me hungry and now I want chicken parmesan,” Jonathan whines and lets his head fall onto Steve’s shoulder.

“And do tell me, Byers,” Steve chuckles as Jonathan falls into his side even more. “Where are we supposed to get a chicken at 2AM on a Wednesday?”

Jonathan lifts his head and blinks, looking deep in thought. Steve watches as a slow smile creep across his face, knowing nothing good is coming from that expression.

“I bet Hopper has some. And I bet he’s sleeping right now.”

“Are you suggesting we break into the chief’s room just to take his chicken?”

“Why not?”

“Uh… because he’s Hopper?” Steve makes a gesture. That should be obvious, right?

“So what?” Jonathan frowns. “That dude is fucking my mom. I think I deserve his chicken.”

“Okay, let’s put that line of thought to an end there,” Steve says quickly before Jonathan gets any more brilliant ideas. “We are not stealing Hopper’s chicken.”

“Hm, you’re right,” Jonathan relents. “We don’t even know for sure if he has it, anyway.”

Steve lets out a sigh of relief at avoiding another shenanigan– he’s had enough of those in a lifetime.

They stay silent for a while before Jonathan breaks the silence again, head still resting on Steve’s shoulder. “You’re cool, Steve Harrington.”

“Thank you…?” Steve laughs, questioning.

“I mean it. I was wrong about you. You’re a really great guy. It’s a shame I never saw it when we were in school, but I’m glad we’re friends now.”

Jonathan puts his hand up Steve’s shirt as he says this, and for some reason, Steve lets him. Steve assumes it’s not even meant to be a sensual touch, merely a grounding, comforting one; the safety of warm skin against your own. Jonathan’s hand roams a bit near Steve’s stomach before it stills above Steve’s healed scar, still prominent against his smooth skin.

Jonathan furrows his brows. “Does it still hurt?” He sounds so serious all of a sudden, like the high has entirely escaped his system. Steve sighs.

“No, not really– physically, anyway. I still think about it all the damn time though.” Steve puts his hand on Jonathan’s wrist and guides his hand out of the shirt, still holding it after.

Jonathan frowns again. “I know that feeling.”

Then he goes quiet, quieter than he’s been all night, eyes shifting before glazing over as if he’s being reminded of something. Steve wonders what he’s thinking about. Lenora? Seeing his brother be possessed by the Mindflayer? That fateful night in ’83 when their whole lives changed forever? Or is he remembering something from before? The fact that there are even several options to choose from makes Steve’s heart sink even deeper. But he keeps on a brave face, for both him and Jonathan. If there’s anything worse than having bad thoughts, it’s having them while on a bad high.

So he squeezes Jonathan’s hand once in comfort. Jonathan finally breaks free from his trance and grips Steve’s hand back. They look at each other and smile, and for a split second before Jonathan decides that the direct eye contact is hilarious and starts laughing, Steve feels a strong urge inside him that tells him to kiss Jonathan. He quickly shakes the thought away and laughs along. The weed Jonathan scored is definitely pretty weird.

“Okay, let’s sleep this high off, what do you say?” Steve pats Jonathan’s knee. “I promise I’ll find you some chicken in the morning.”

“I’ll be holding you to that, Harrington,” Jonathan mumbles, cuddling closer to Steve. “I don’t want to move. Let’s just sleep on the couch.”

“Are you sure?” Steve asks.

“Hmm… you’re warm.”

“Okay,” Steve lets out an absurd half-laugh, holding Jonathan tighter as he closes his eyes and lets the high wash over him, sending him to that floaty space where they’ll fall asleep.

#stonathan #jonathan byers #steve harrington #stonathanweek2023 #ficlet #might be slightly ooc for jonathan but idc #but i do think he 's a bit silly when high #“hi murray”?? #that's a silly man

[ciaossu-imagines]

dont know if my prev ask got deleted, but i sent in a smut request for shouhei/reader/eric threesome 👀 -shoheiakagi

Chitose’s parties, when he decided to throw them, were always the stuff of legends but this one…even you had to admit this party was absolutely insane, though in the best of ways. There were people everywhere you look, everyone was having fun, letting loose. The music was loud, always catchy, always something that made you want to move your body. The alcohol was plentiful, and you weren’t even ashamed to admit you were very drunk by this point in the party. You’d just come back into the party after going outside to have a cigarette with Fujishima and Dewa. The cigarette had turned into smoking a blunt, then another cigarette, with lots of chatter and laughter and more than a few beers being downed in quick successions.

                But it had been fucking cold out, especially since you’d come dressed as cute as you could in a thin-strapped tank and a little mini-skirt. Maria had dared you, while out on one of your shopping trips together, to try the outfit on, and she had declared you to look positively sinful in it. She’d put a lot of pressure on you to wear it tonight for the party, and though you’d been initially uncomfortable with the idea, since the outfit was a lot more revealing than what you normally worse, you knew you looked damn good and you were really feeling yourself, growing more and more confident in yourself especially as the amount of alcohol and weed you’d consumed grew. It just, as it turned out, was not the right kind of outfit for hanging out outside with your friends and you’d excused yourself by saying you were heading to go grab some more drinks, since the three of you had run through the beers they’d brought out pretty quickly.

                So, you’d gone back into the house, weaving your way through the throngs of people chattering, drinking, getting high, just all having a good time. In your pleasant, blissed out state, you were barely aware of your body moving along to the music, some catchy, gotta dance to tune about witches or something. You did pause just long enough to laugh at the change in music from the early ‘00’s club crap to this. The music had been all over the place tonight, though always good, and you had the momentary thought, not for the first time that night, that Chitose had made the correct choice in letting Totsuka really control the music.

                You thought you remembered where the drinks were being kept, but it still took you a while to kind of stumble across them again. You kept getting stopped, pulled into conversations, offered drinks or cigarettes or blunts, and you weren’t going to be rude and not talk or partake or party it up, both with friends you knew well and even some of the people you were either just acquaintances with or barely knew. It seemed to be widely agreed upon though that everyone was having a great time, and the party was amazing.

                You’d spotted, on your way to the kitchen, Shouhei and Eric sitting on one of the couches in the area and you had made a mental note to go and sit with them. Sure, your original plan had been to find a coat, head back out, chill with Dewa and Fuji and whoever else had made their way out there, with the thrum of music in the background and a more peaceful atmosphere, but that plan had been put right out of your head when you saw them. You’d always had a pretty massive crush on Shouhei, even back in high school when you’d first met him, and both he and Eric were your favourite people. You liked all of the HOMRA guys, really had fallen in well with all of them and adored them, but yeah…Shouhei and Eric? Getting to hang out with them, you never passed that opportunity up. I mean, not only were they fantastic company, but both boys were amazing eye candy.

                You found your way into the kitchen, planning on grabbing some drinks and making your way quickly to them. You ended up getting distracted though, Kamamoto and Yata and the crowd in the kitchen really dragging you in on their fun. You hung out there for about half an hour without even meaning to, talking, and laughing, drinking, and having a good time. By the time you’d remembered what you’d been meaning to do, by the time you’d filled your arms up with a couple cans of beer, some alcoholic sweet and fruity coolers, you were worried that you’d have missed Shouhei and Eric. Well, maybe less so Eric. Eric loved a good party as much as the rest of you did, but he either tended to stick with the other boys and get into trouble or cause some kind of scene, or he found himself a comfortable spot and just kind of camped there, enjoying himself in his own way. But Shouhei? It was definitely a distinct possibility that you would have missed your chance to really sit and hang out with Shouhei. The boy was always all over the place, always finding something and someone to amuse himself.

                 So, you were a little pleasantly surprised, and honestly super happy, to discover both of them still where you’d last seen them. You bopped along to whatever song was playing as you made your way to the couch, where, carefully juggling the cans in your arm, you plopped down in between them on the couch with a cheerful cry of their names.

                “Shouhei! Eric! How’s the night going?”

                Shouhei laughed as the couch jostled a little bit under you and returned your greeting.

                “Hey y/n! Was wondering if you had even come. I haven’t seen you all night. Did’cha just get here?”

                “Nah, been around all night. Just hanging around here and there, ya know.”

                “Getting into trouble?”

                “Of course,” you laughed.

                “That’s my girl!”

                “No surprise we haven’t seen you,” you heard Eric mutter. “Place is crowded as fuck.”

                “Hey, just means Chitose’s party is a real hit this time. Everyone’s having fun too, right?”

                You watched Eric just kind of shrug his shoulders, looking around with a half-bored, half-petulant look on his face.

                “Aww, don’t act like you haven’t been having fun, man,” Shouhei teased the other boy, reaching his arm around your shoulders to lightly punch Eric’s shoulder. Even when he was done, you noticed Shouhei didn’t remove his arm from around you, something that made you almost giddy with happiness, though you did your best not to show it.

                You joined in instead in Shouhei’s teasing of Eric, who countered and bantered back good-naturedly with the two of you. It was cute and fun, and you were enjoying yourself, though Shouhei was quicker at the barbs than you were…though you finally saw a good opportunity to get a little zinger in there.

                “I just don’t like people,” Eric had said, putting on his patented (in your mind) surly Eric expressions, though you could see the smile lurking around the corners of his mouth that Shouhei and you were bound and determined to bring to the surface.

                “That hurts, man,” Shouhei said.

                “Yeah, Eric! Are you saying you don’t like me?” you teased him, leaning into him a bit, and locking your eyes with him.

                He stared back at you, almost seeming to study you, eyes narrowing. His gaze broke from your eyes, drifting down to the cans that were still in your lap.

                “Depends. Can I have one of those beers?”

                You laughed, shaking your head, and Shouhei followed Eric’s gaze down to your lap as well, seeming to notice the stockpile of alcohol you had brought along.

                “Depends,” you countered back to Eric. “Can ya’ll help me out by getting these off my lap and onto the table?”

                Shouhei’s laughter was so close to your ear as he leaned in and started grabbing a can, while Eric just nodded and started grabbing as well.

                “Then of course you can have a beer.”

                “Then fine. I like ya,” Eric muttered, catching your eyes once again as he grabbed and opened the last can of beer from your lap, and this time you definitely saw the smile there.

                You were about to say something back, but your attention was grabbed by the sound of Shouhei’s voice and your eyes went back to him.

                “Course you like her. Everyone likes her. Hard not to, right?” he said, winking and grinning at you.

                You laughed, rolling your eyes, but your laughter hiccupped a little as Shouhei handed you a can of alcohol and you noticed that his eyes were roaming, intently studying you from head to toe and back again, lingering on your legs, your exposed midriff, your chest before settling on your face again.

                “Damn girl,” he said with a wicked grin. “You’re looking awful good tonight, you know? Ain’t never seen you all dressed up like that before.”

                “Trying to impress anyone in particular?” you heard Eric drawl, and you tossed your hair, shaking your head and laughing before you popped open the can, downing it as quick as you could. The boys continued their teasing, which then turned to other tangents and conversations and the three of you sat there, laughing, talking, drinking. While you’d definitely been having a great night before you’d sat down, it occurred to you that this was actually the most fun you’d had during the night. Something about being with them? It was absolutely amazing, and you felt like you were on cloud nine. Of course, the heavy drinking and the weed you’d smoked earlier was definitely helping your blissed out, relaxed, ecstatic state.

                It was only helped even more by Shouhei reaching into one of his coat pockets, pulling out a cigarette case. The only thing left in it was a large, expertly rolled blunt, though you knew Shouhei enough to know he had probably started the night out with more than the one in there.

                “Got a light?” Shouhei asked. You shook your head, but Eric was quick to pass one over you and you noticed that, despite the fact it would have been easy enough not to do, Eric’s arm brushed against your breasts while doing so….but nah, that probably wasn’t on purpose. All of you were wasted, it was probably just a mistake. Felt nice though. Felt really nice, you had to admit, stretching a little on the couch. Shouhei passed the blunt to you, which you happily accepted.

                “Pass it along to Eric when you’re done and we’ll just do a puff puff pass situation, yeah?” Shouhei said with a smile.

                You cocked your head a bit, looking at Shouhei quizzically before turning a confused look to Eric.

                “But Eric never smokes during parties, right? Did you start?” you asked Eric.

                “Nah, I’m cool. I’ll take another drink though.”

                You shrugged and smiled, passing Eric another beer. You and Shouhei shared the blunt, the three of you finishing up the liquor while you did. Your head was spinning a little, but in the most pleasant of ways. You were leaning on Eric, almost cuddled into him, but you could feel Shouhei’s arm still around the back of you on the couch, his fingers teasing along your neck, playing with strands of your hair.

                “Shit, out of alcohol,” Eric muttered as he pressed himself against you, leaning over you a little to get a good look at the table. God, he smelled good, you suddenly realized.

                You pouted, making a little displeased sound and Shouhei laughed. The sound came again, unbidden, as Shouhei’s arm and the feeling of his fingers on your skin disappeared as he popped up from the couch.

                “Can’t have that,” Shouhei said, laughing. “I’ll go grab us some more. Any requests?”

                You and Eric both told Shouhei what you wanted, though Eric was mostly just any alcohol and lots of it. Both you and Eric relaxed into each other, waiting for Shouhei to get back. You shifted on the couch, moving into a more comfortable position. When Shouhei got back with the liquor, setting it all on the table, he found you half-laying on Eric, your head and upper shoulders on the armrest of the couch, Eric’s arm draped over you. His arm was half on your breast, fingers drawing slight circles on your stomach. You grinned happily up at Shouhei as he sank back down onto the couch, tossing your legs up over his lap to get fully comfortable.

                “Beer me?” you asked with a little pout which quickly broke into a smile.

                “Anything for you,” Shouhei said with a laugh, handing you a can. “Eric?”

                Another can was passed and the three of you were settling back into your happy chatter and drinking. It was with you all in this state that Chitose came across you three, his hand holding that of a petite, busty, pretty little blond.

                “Well don’t you all look like you’re having fun,” he drawled out, tipping a wink at the boys that made you roll your eyes.

                The boys and Chitose made some chatter as you relaxed and popped open another can. You sized up the blond Chitose was with. Your mind wandered here and there, and you tried to think of how you’d cheer Maria up. She was going to be so pissed at Chitose for this, as she’d really been hoping the two of them would get back together. They were always on and off and you really did feel like you should be thinking about more ways to cheer her up when she inevitably came to sob on your shoulder, but you couldn’t really stay focused on your thoughts. Your body just felt so lovely, you kept focusing on Eric’s fingers on your skin, Shouhei’s relaxed posture, one of his arms along the back of the couch, the other arm down, one hand splayed on your bare calf, where the skin almost seemed to tingle under his touch. It was delicious, almost a sign to everyone around you that for tonight at least, these two boys had claimed you for theirs.

                “Yeah, I’m just about to go show Suzi here the pool-house. You know, where all the hauntings are said to be,” Chitose was saying, staring pointedly at the boys and you, urging you to go along with it.

                “Yeah, I’m really into all that spiritual stuff. I’m kind of clairvoyant so when Chitose told me this place is haunted, I knew I couldn’t skip the party. We’re going to go have a séance,” Suzi trilled out, her voice slow and drawling and kind of valley girlish. God did Chitose know how to pick them. What he could see in this chick over your best friend, you did not know. But you went along with it all, as did the boys because who were you to ruin someone’s night? Not when yours was going so beautifully.

                “Well, we’re going to head on out now,” Chitose said, wrapping his arm around Suzi’s waist, settling his hand on her hip, and getting ready to guide her away. “Ya’ll enjoy the party…anything you guys need before we leave?”

                “More drinks would be cool,” Eric muttered, staring at the once again empty table.

                “Oh, I can grab you guys a couple. You stay here and talk to your friends for a couple more minutes, okay hun?” Suzi said, smiling almost worshipfully up at Chitose for a second before she headed off, her hips swaying way more than was natural and you snickered at how hard this girl was trying to seduce Chitose. Oh, if only she knew how easily the boy gave it up.

                You couldn’t resist taking the piss out of Chitose a little and the four of you fell into a bunch of meaningless chit-chat, just shooting the shit. While Chitose could be a lot of things, he was a good host though and when Shouhei mentioned that the two of you had smoked his last blunt, Chitose pulled out his own cigarette case.

                “One for you, one for little miss gorgeous there,” Chitose said, smirking at you. “Gotta make sure all the pretty ladies enjoy their time here at casa Chitose, after all.”

                “You mean Casa Dewa where Chitose freeloads off him, don’t you?” Eric said. Sure, it came off mean and harsh, but it was a common joke for the boys and Chitose laughed and shrugged it off as he always did, playfully swatting at Eric.

                “Hey, there. Is someone pissed that I didn’t give him one? I know you don’t smoke with us at these things there, bud. If you want though, I’m pretty sure Kamamoto’s got some shrooms left. He was making a pizza with them in the kitchen, I can get Suz to grab you a slice.”

                “I fucking hate mushrooms,” Eric replied, crinkling up his nose. “Taste like asshole.”

                “You would know. But if that’s not doing it for you, I also got these.”

                You watched, kind of curious, as Chitose reached into his pants pocket and pulled out what looked like a prescription bottle. When he popped it open, it was full of brightly candy-coloured pills. You weren’t one to judge and mostly just focused on Suzi’s arrival with more alcohol as Chitose shook a couple blue pills, imprinted with the word ‘sky’ on them, into Eric’s hand.

                “Well, we’re heading out now. Have fun guys and, dudes,” Chitose said, pointing first at Shouhei and then at Eric, “don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

                “Well, that doesn’t rule out much,” Eric muttered with a laugh as the three of you watched Chitose leave. That turned into the three of you riffing on Chitose, turned into time that went so slow but so fast. The alcohol was consumed, pills taken, blunts smoked and your head reeled a little. All you could think about, all you could focus on was the sound of their voices, how beautiful they both were, the feel of Erics’s fingers sneaking up under the hem of your shirt, his other hand playing with your hair, drifting along the curve of your ear. The feel of Shouhei’s hand rubbing, back and forth along your leg.

                Before you could even really comprehend what all was going on, what you were doing, you were leaning up, capturing Eric’s lips while Shouhei’s fingers slipped above the hem of your skirt, caressed the skin of your inner thigh.

                Shouhei’s voice was the thing to interrupt what had turned into hesitant, but rough, continuous kisses with Eric, the way you squirmed under Shouhei’s touch.

                “Ya know, with Chitose out in the pool house with blondie, that leaves his bedroom pretty open. Why don’t we go have our own little private party in there, what do you two say?”

                Now, how was a girl supposed to pass that up? You took his hand, allowing him to guide you through the crowd and up the stairs. Your head spun like crazy, your legs didn’t seem to fully cooperate but your whole body burned with need, and you couldn’t remember wanting anything more than you’d wanted anybody else. Eric had gone to grab you guys some more drinks but followed behind the two of you.

                Eric shut Chitose’s bedroom door with his foot, staring wide-eyed and flushed at where you and Shouhei had already collapsed onto the bed. Shouhei was beside you as you leaned back on the bed, his mouth kissing its way along your neck as you moaned softly.

                “Starting without me?” Eric said, and he honestly sounded a little annoyed, something Shouhei was quick to pick up on.

                “Don’t worry, just getting her warmed up,” he said. “You’re definitely needed in here, man. Isn’t that right, y/n?” Shouhei said, his tone turning teasing and low, his breath warm against your ear as he caught your earlobe lightly in his teeth. You giggled a little, nodding and reaching out for Eric.

                “Come party with us!” you said in between giggles as Shouhei nipped and kissed along your jaw, your neck, hitting all your ticklish spots.

                Eric was quick to set the liquor on the top of Chitose’s dresser, pulling off his hoodie before he joined you and Shouhei on the bed. After that, you kind of lost track of things. You were kissing Eric, then Shouhei, tongues tangling, the sensations sending heat through your body. You shut your eyes, losing yourself in the moment, only knowing who was kissing you by their taste, by the feel of their kisses. Shouhei’s were soft, teasing, almost playful. Eric’s were rough, needy, his hands always ending up in your hair. You could feel their hands touching you, Eric’s surprisingly gentle and hesitant despite the urgency he kissed you with, while Shouhei’s were confident as they made their way across your skin.

                Your eyes fluttered open again as Eric started kissing along your neck, sucking at the delicate skin there. He’d pull back every couple of kisses, examining your neck intently and by the smirk on his face, he was more than happy with the reddened skin that he knew would bruise into visible love-bites. His mouth trailed along your neck, your collarbones, leaving hot kisses just above the neck of your tank top and you let yourself drink in how good that felt, how turned on you were getting as you leaned your head back to kiss Shouhei.

                Eric’s hands were up by your shoulders now as you and Shouhei made out, dragging the thin little straps of fabric down to your elbows and you willingly slid your arms up and out of the straps, letting the fabric collect around your waist. Shouhei’s hands were already sneaking up your back, tickling slightly in their feather light touches and you giggled, breaking a kiss before he hungrily stole your mouth back. His fingers were skillful, confident. The boy sure knew what he was doing, the strapless bra you’d been wearing unhooked in what seemed the blink of an eye and Eric was quick to whip it across the room.

                Now it was Shouhei’s mouth on your neck, his hands pushing your skirt up. His fingers teased along the waistband of your panties, and you slid your legs apart, letting him slide his hand down into them. You moaned as Eric’s mouth kissed along the swell of your breasts, your fingers coming up to bunch in his hair as he turned his full attention on lavishing your tits with his mouth. His tongue licked and circled and flicked and felt so goddamn good. He’d go between teasing you with his tongue to suckling your nipples to letting his teeth graze and almost bite at your nipples just hard enough to make you squirm. Shouhei’s finger, meanwhile, had slid along your sopping folds, pushed inside them. He teased you, running his finger up and down your wetness repeatedly before he finally went to work teasing your clit.

                 You were so goddamn turned on, feeling amazing, and god you wanted these boys. Your own hand had reached behind you, stroking Shouhei through his jeans, your other drifting down from Eric’s hair to touch every bare inch of his skin that you could as you arched your back, legs shaking a little as the boys were driving you so damn close to an orgasm.

                “Uh-uh…not yet there. I want to taste you when you cum,” Shouhei’s voice was rough, raspy from his own need and both you and Eric somehow knew just what was needed next. In no time at all, Eric was sitting up against the headboard and you were on your hands and knees, doggy style on the bed, your head in his lap. You looked up at him and grinned before you set to work undoing his belt and then his pants. You’d gotten them unfastened, Eric’s bony hips rising up to let you pull them down about the time that Shouhei had your own panties lowered down to your knees.

                You heard but barely registered his naughty little comment about how very pretty your pussy was, though you sure registered the feeling of his tongue dragging along your folds. You set to work getting into a comfortable position for both you and Eric as you pulled down his boxers enough to free the half-erection he was sporting, and a very impressive one at that. Your mouth was moist enough and you half licked, half spit on your hand for lubrication before you wrapped it around Eric’s cock, beginning to stroke him into full hardness.

                Shouhei was really an expert at eating people out, switching between various ways of using his tongue on your clit. Sometimes he’d be circling around it, other times his tongue would flick at it, he’d suck at it, and it all felt so goddamn amazing that you could barely stand it. It didn’t help that he kept pulling away to groan about how goddamn delicious you tasted and how eagerly he dove back in. You took your queues from him and from Eric’s now fully hard cock and shallow breathes as you lowered your mouth to take Eric into it.

                Shouhei’s fingers were at your entrance, pushing their way inside you. First one, slow and steady, before he slid a second in to join it, his pace increasing as he continued to lick and suck at your clit. Your own tongue was laving circles around the head of Eric’s cock before you took him back in your mouth. One of your hands wrapped around the base of his cock, stroking him off as you took him shallowly into your mouth at first. He didn’t seem to have any complaints about it though, his head falling back and his mouth spewing occasional profanities.

                You came, quick and hard, around Shouhei’s fingers, Eric’s cock slipping from your mouth as you mewled out your pleasure. You were so lost in the orgasm and the few moments of post-orgasm bliss that you weren’t quite conscious of exactly what the boys had said to each other, but all you knew is that Shouhei had straightened up behind you, one of his hands coming to deliver a light, pleasurable spanking to first one ass cheek and then the next before his hands settled on your hips, pulling you back slightly. That gave Eric enough room to sit up properly, to kick off his pants and boxers. You heard the sound of a zipper and when you looked back to look at Shouhei, he was now fully naked too. You must have been looking quite intently too.

                “Haven’t you ever heard staring is impolite, darling?” Shouhei said, laughing as he crawled back onto the bed behind you, cutting your view of him. Instead, your eyes drifted back to Eric, or more precisely, Eric’s cock, which was now right in front of your face as he kneeled on the bed in front of you.

                “You two are just too damn gorgeous. Girl can’t help but look,” you slurred out, grinning happily.

                “You’re the gorgeous one,” you heard Eric mutter and your cheeks heated up, pleased by the compliment. You could feel Shouhei’s erection grinding up against your ass, his hands holding on to your hips, could feel Eric’s hands on the back of your head as if to beg you for more. And you were all too happy to oblige, taking him back into your mouth as you had before. You could feel Shouhei’s cock slide between your folds, could feel it slide against your clit a few times, sending pleasant little shockwaves from the sensitive nub before you felt it as a pressure against your tight little entrance.

                It didn’t take you too long to figure out that both hands were definitely needed to steady yourself on the bed as Shouhei drove his cock into you, filling you nice and deep. His pace was lazy, slow, and steady, but his actual thrusts came rough, jostling your entire body and Eric’s cock kept sliding deep into your mouth, almost threatening to gag you. Eric’s hands played with your hair, his hips moving a little, his cusses coming more frequently.

                You heard a sound, like flesh slapping against flesh, but coming from over top of you (where Shouhei and Eric had locked eyes and most definitely had high-fived), but quickly found your attention being distracted by the taste of precum and the approach of yet another orgasm for you.

                Neither you nor Eric were quite cumming yet though, as he pulled away from you.

                “Switch,” you heard him roughly toss out to Shouhei. “I wanna taste her too and not when you’ve filled her up.”

                You were moved, flipped around, ending up on your back on the bed. Eric replaced Shouhei between your legs, his head between them and he gazed almost reverently at you, his hands coming up to trail along your lower belly, along your thighs. Your own hand settled on Shouhei’s cock as he came to rest beside your head, stroking him gently at first. Your stroking of him came faster though as Shouhei’s hand reached down to tease your nipples, circling his fingers around them, pinching at them, flicking at them. Eric’s mouth descended on your pussy as if he hadn’t eaten in days. He didn’t have Shouhei’s technique but god, he shared the other boy’s eagerness.

                “Can’t blame him. You are delicious…you should taste yourself,” Shouhei said suggestively, moving your hand away from his cock and you knew what he wanted and were all too happy to oblige, taking his cock into your mouth. He let you suck him at your own speed, let you grow more and more confident in how deep you took him, how fast you went. You could tell how much he was enjoying it though, with that dirty mouth of his reining compliments on you.

                Eric pulled away, his fingers replacing his tongue on your clit, and it wasn’t long before you were cumming again, your moans creating little humming vibrations along Shouhei’s cock as you kept sucking him.

                “Shit, man, I don’t know if I can last much longer,” you heard him groan out.

                “No kidding. Now you know how I was feeling. She’s got quite the mouth on her, don’t she?”

                You felt Shouhei pull away, his cock falling from your mouth, but you were quickly distracted by Eric’s fingers sliding inside you. Apparently one orgasm from you was just not satisfactory, given the intensity he was staring at you with as he teased and played with you. Not that you minded, not one bit. But you were all distracted by the sensations, the pleasure, the third orgasm that you missed large portions of Shouhei and Eric’s conversation, catching just brief snippets here and there that your mind really refused to put into any coherent order.

                ‘Both at once…do you think she’d be okay…I mean we’d need lube though….dude, this is Chitose’s bedroom, I have no doubt there’s lube somewhere…”

                You whimpered at the loss of sensation as Eric’s fingers fell away and you opened your eyes to stare up at the two boys, who were both gazing down at you with need and want and some surprising tenderness. You saw a bottle of lube in Shouhei’s hand and he grinned at you.

                “We were thinking it would be fun if, ya know…”

                “Can we both have you?”

                “What do you mean?” you asked, your both alcohol-drunk and cum-drunk brain not really putting two and two together.

                “Well, we were wondering if you’d be cool if we played both holes, see if it would feel good for you.”

                “It’s cool if you say no, we’re enjoying this but would be fun.”

                Your brain finally caught up enough to figure out what they wanted, and your brain did take a second, though only a tiny one, to think about whether the idea appealed to you at all. Eric had been right though…would be fun is what your brain decided on and you were nodding empathically as you raised yourself up to your knees on the bed.

                “Yeah…yeah…how do you want me?”

                That question seemed to be the hard part as the boys rock-paper-scissored among themselves to figure who would be doing what but eventually you ended up hovering over Eric’s lap, his cock bigger than Shouhei’s, stretching you out just a bit more as you lowered yourself onto it. You could tell by his gritted teeth, the way he clenched his eyes shut that it was hard for him to hold back but hold back he did as you worked yourself down his cock little by little, thrust by thrust until you had finally taken him fully in you. You were so deliciously stretched out, whimpering in a newfound pleasure as Eric stilled your hips and Shouhei’s hand guided your upper body down so that you were leaning onto Eric’s chest.

                The coldness of the lube as you felt it drip down was shocking but not unpleasant at all and Shouhei was generous with it. You were practically a slip and slide and had gotten used to the feeling of Shouhei’s fingers getting your ass ready for him before you felt the head of his cock pressing against you.

                Both boys allowed you plenty of time, after your almost scream as Shouhei entered you, to get used to the sensation of being stretched out and filled completely. Once your body adjusted, you found the sensation different, a little painful, yeah. But mostly, mostly it felt a lot good at the same time and you were curious as to whether it would get to feel better. They let you squirm, moving your hips slowly, feeling both their cocks work shallowly in and out of your holes, before Eric stilled your hips with his hands. It was then that they allowed themselves to move.

                It took a couple tries, a little bit of getting used to, but the boys fell into a good rhythm, Eric’s thrusts fast and needy, Shouhei’s shallow and measured. God, yes…fuck, it really did start to feel so much better and pretty soon you couldn’t make a single coherent words, stuttered gasps and moans and attempts to beg them not to stop all that was coming out of your mouth.

                Your own orgasm was quickly approaching when you felt added warmth in your cunt, felt Eric tense, felt his thrusts start to come sloppy and more slowly and you felt a kind of swell of pride in knowing you’d made him feel so good, that he just hadn’t been able to hold back anymore and had filled you up. But god, you had so wanted that last orgasm…and you weren’t the only one who hadn’t been quite ready to stop.

                You watched Eric’s face intently, locked eyes with him briefly and drew him into a kiss he was moaning into as his whole body fell into the half-pain, half-pleasure state of overstimulation as Shouhei’s thrusts started coming harder now, bouncing you up and down on Eric’s cock for a couple more moments, just enough for you to cum, almost insanely hard, once more before you felt that warmth again, knew that Shouhei had reached his own orgasm.

                It was in the moments of post-orgasm bliss, all of you trying to catch your breath, neither man really wanting to pull out of you quite yet, that the door flew open. Both boys scrambled for a blanket, anything to hide you from the sight of whoever walked through the door, and you hid your suddenly burning face in Eric’s chest as a voice you knew all too well echoed in the room.

                “Seriously, you fucks. In my bed?? What the fuck? And you couldn’t even invite me to join?”

#I hope this formatting doesn't go weird on me #k project #project k #shouhei akagi #akagi shouhei #eric surt #eric solt #scenario #fanfic #smut #pwp #spicy content #tw: drugs #tw: drinking #but yay #definitely the longest fic in a while I've written #but hope you enjoy

[angeltiddies]

cannot express enough how badly dean just needs to go to a concert and live in the moment and forget about performing for one god damn second 

#okay .... im not even part of the edm community #but dean doing the whole PLUR #thing ???? like giving people kandi and getting it in return and just like going wild at some festival ????? #feeling appreciated by a community ??? ?strangers and all ??? but not strangers becaue they are all connected >??? #dean woul LOVE festival season as like a 24 year old #in fact i have decided he goes to one on a case and eventually fully forgets theres a case and just ends up shacking up with a guy to smoke #weed with some guy and sure the guy ends up being a witch but damn the weed is good #dean decides if all the guy is doing is giving people crazy visions that change their lives then hey #who is he to take that from them #YEAH #okay okay i just want dean to have a community he believes in SO MUCh #and i really think plur would be so healthy for him #u can ignore my tags fudhchdh i was just thinking about types of concerts but really yeah i was imagining the tiny concerts ive gone to solo #theres just something about losing yourself in a crowd with music yoh love

[spxllcxstxr]

Inked • S.B

(Gif not mine)

Request: Hi! Could I request a Soulmate AU with Sirius please? Marauders era with matching tattoos. No rush and thank you 🌹🖤 — @fific7

Summary: Mary is determined to find your soulmate and not even an oncoming storm will stop her. (Soulmate AU)

Warnings: some tattoo talk?, rain, thunder, I guess hints/implied bullying, Peter makes an appearance but like he’s not a key part and he’s not like bad or anything

Word Count: 2.3k

A.N: This is the kind of star I’m envisioning for your soulmark (just not yellow) I actually never specify the color, so you can imagine any color you want. This took me like a week to write for some reason. But I like how it turned out. Hopefully you guys do too! Love you all ❤️

****

No one ever told you that soulmarks tingled.

When the eight pointed star seared itself into the flesh of the inside of your left elbow at age sixteen, you thought that was it. You thought that it would just sit there innocently to the point where it wouldn’t cross your mind every second of every day, but Merlin were you wrong.

The prickling of the mark was constant, like pins and needles jabbing relentlessly into your arm. It wasn’t exactly painful, it was just an obnoxious and infuriating reminder that you still haven’t found your soulmate.

Hogwarts was practically the place for the vast majority of witches and wizards to find their soulmate, as it was basically the only topic discussed amongst the sixth and seventh years.

Honestly, you just wanted your mark to stop its incessant tingling to the point where you wouldn’t mind anyone being your soulmate. You’ve never heard any complaints from your friends who had already found their true loves, so you assume that the sensation stops eventually.

But you were tired of scratching at your arm making it look like you had some weird sort of flesh eating disease. It was unflattering and highly inconvenient.

Sure, you could run around like a headless hippogriff with your sleeve rolled up asking everyone you encounter if they’ve seen another person with that identical mark, but that’s not romantic. And you wanted romantic, Merlin damn it.

Plus, imagine the burn of embarrassment that would overtake your entire being if no one shared your soulmark. You shudder at the mere thought.

So, you learn to live with it.

You almost want to rip your arm off when it gets particularly bad while studying or trying to get the perfect measurement for your potion, but after a full year you’re almost used to it.

You’re used to how often your friends would gush about their own soulmates and their constant questions about why you’re still single as well.

Mary MacDonald, one of your best friends, had already found her soulmate, some boy from Beauxbatons that sent her too many Howlers during breakfast, but they loved each other, so who were you to complain?

But ever since she found hers, she’s been pretty determined to seek out yours. Even getting her boyfriend to ask around his own school. You can never show your face around Beauxbatons and that’s final.

She’ll make you sit around the courtyard, pretending to read a book, while she scans the arms of the many crowds in search of your star. Mary tries to walk in on top secret Quidditch practices to get a glimpse of any rolled up sleeves, but so far, no good.

That’s really the only reason she’s dragging you down to the Black Lake even though dark grey clouds are hanging heavy in the sky.

“Mary!” You huff as she drags you down the grassy hills, the smell of rain thick in the air. “I know what you’re doing, I’m not daft, y’know.”

Her hand tightens around yours as she starts to feel you resist.

“What I’m doing? (Y/n), it’s a nice day to just hang out at the lake!” Mary cries, the lie hidden well if she wasn’t your best friend.

“Mary it’s about to torrential downpour.” You scoff.

“I thought you liked the rain.” She shrugs innocently, the sound of weeds getting crushed beneath your school shoes loud in your ears.

“Mary, my soulmate might not even be at Hogwarts!” You exclaim, trying to get out of this whole situation. You could be curled up by the fire with a sugar quill, but no, why would Mary let you have some peace and quiet? “They might be older or younger than me—“

“Well we won’t know that, will we, until we check everyone in our year first.” She insists.

The deep murky water is in sight, a few people are lazily lounging around the water’s edge. Like they haven’t even noticed the rain clouds overhead.

“You’re obsessed.” You sigh, finally stopping your attempts to wriggle away from her.

“It’s because I love you.” She smiles sweetly at you, cheeks pushed high, obscuring her dark eyes.

You continue to rub the inside of your arm against the side of your abdomen, attempting to find some sort of relief. The scratchy fabric of your white button down against your grey vest is probably the most effective. The closer to the bank you get, the better you’re able to make out the figures.

The owner of the vibrant red hair was obviously Lily, one of Mary’s friends, and also the more sensible of the group considering her coat was tightly wrapped around her. She’s in a somewhat similar situation as you—she hasn’t shown her soulmark to anyone. However, if what Mary drunkenly told you one night is true, it matches James Potter’s to a tee. Poor her.

Peter was also there, kicking rocks around and chuckling at whatever story Lily was telling them. His Gryffindor jumper is a little short on him while his slacks are a little long, mud dirtying the hem of them. As far as you know, he doesn’t even have a soulmark. It’s not uncommon or something to be ashamed of, but ever since certain people found out, it’s been quite the issue. Sure the infamous Marauders took care of the situation the best they could, but the damage was already done.

The last person was obviously Sirius, you could tell by the way he has his wand situated in his bun. He was closer to the water, picking up flat stones to skip across. His bark like laugh echoing across the space. You and Mary weren’t too far from the group now, so you could tell that the top two buttons of his dress shirt were popped open. Sirius Black’s soulmark was another mystery. He seems like the type to brag about something as important as a soulmark, but as far as you know, only James, Remus, and Peter were privy to that sort of information.

“Hey guys!” Lily perks up, waving at the two of you.

You smile and wave at her, but as Mary stops and chat, you gravitate closer to Peter and Sirius.

“So where are the other two?” You ask, watching as his stone skips across the water, finally ending with a satisfying plunk!

Sirius turns to face you, a few loose strands framing his face, blowing slightly in the wind.

“Detention.” He remarks casually, lazily trying to tame his curls.

“And you two aren’t?”

Peter shakes his head enthusiastically, blond hair bobbing around. “Sirius and I managed to escape before Slughorn lost it.”

“Hey Pete!” You hear Mary call from behind you. “Don’t you wanna know what you missed in Muggle Studies?”

“Shit, yeah.” Peter bounds over to where Lily and Mary are sitting, leaving you and Sirius alone. Your feet shuffle at the predicament.

You slowly inch closer to Sirius, the large distance awkward without a third person. You’re forced to hold down a wince as your mark prickles almost painfully.

Sirius’ eyes are almost the same shade as the clouds in the sky as they pierce into yours.

“You know how to skip rocks?” He tosses you a smooth stone which you catch effortlessly.

You open your mouth to respond but before you’re able to, you’re cut off by a clap of thunder. The ripples of thunder makes you jump slightly.

“We should probably go inside—“ You start, shivering at the cold wind that begins to roll past you.

“Scared of a little thunder, (Y/n)?” Sirius teases, smirking at your shivering form.

“Don’t be a prick.” You snort. “Just throw your rock.”

You push the thought of the oncoming storm to the back of your mind as you position yourself on the bank.

The water laps at you shoes as you toe the edge, running your thumb over the smooth surface. You mirror Sirius’ position, slightly crouched at the knee, body angled towards the lake.

“One...two...three!”

You watch his body move fluidly through the positions, the stone releasing and skipping across the water delicately. Not only do you get distracted by Sirius, but the mark on your arm gives a sudden jolt, making your posture falter and your stone crash recklessly into the lake.

Sirius brings a ringed fist up to his mouth, trying and failing to stifle a laugh.

“It’s not that funny.” You grumble, embarrassed.

“I mean, it’s pretty fucking hilarious. I thought you said you knew how to skip rocks?” He crosses his arms over his chest, eyebrows raised, a chuckle still lightly escaping his amused smile.

“Technically, I didn’t tell you shit.” You remark. “The thunder cut me off.”

“Ah yes. The spooky thunder.” He drawls, wagging his painted fingers at you mockingly.

You bring your hand up to flick him off when you feel a cool dot of water drop onto your hand.

“Hey, did you just feel a—“

In the middle of talking, one raindrop becomes hundreds, the torrential downpour almost instantly soaking you to your bones. You hair plasters to your skin, clothes clinging onto you.

“—raindrop?” You utter weekly, a chill coming over you.

Your eyes widen as you look at Sirius, how his dark hair sticks wildly to his face, like curtains across his eyes.

Lily and Mary let out identical high pitched shrieks, and you hear the sound of mud squelching as the three run back towards the castle.

As Sirius tries to wipe the wet hair from his face, you grab onto his wrist, pulling him as your sprint back to the castle. You’re fumbling as you try not to slip in the mud but at the same time try get to the cover of the castle quickly.

“A little thunder, my arse, Sirius!” You huff out, his wrist still grasped tightly in your hand.

You hear him chuckle behind you, easily keeping up with your pace.

Cold water traces down your back and fills your shoes, your discomfort rapidly increasing with every step and every second you spend outdoors.

Your mind drifts off to Sirius, who was only in his white uniform button down. He must be freezing.

After sloshing through puddles and mucking up your shoes, you manage to get under the cover of the stone castle.

Your teeth are chattering and you body trembles, but at least the rain isn’t cutting into your skin anymore.

Lily, Mary, and Peter are nowhere to be found, though they’re probably making their way to the Gryffindor common room already.

Sirius is wringing out his drenched dark curls, his wand between his lips, but you’re too focused in the face that his shirt is now completely see through. Your eyes wander as you ogle his fit body, shamelessly trailing everywhere. You bite your bottom lip at your confidence.

However, something catches your eye as you admire his arms. A black splotch. Like a tattoo in the inside of his elbow. You somehow go colder than you already were.

“Admiring my beauty—Hey!”

You step forward and latch onto his arm, trying to get a better look at the spot on his arm. Initially, he struggles, but you jab your finger into his skin, your own mark tingling beneath your wet clothes.

“What’s your problem, (Y/n)?” He angrily grunts.

“What’s this, Sirius?” You demand, looking at him.

“Why?” Sirius rips his arm out of your grasp, trying his best to hide the mark from you.

“Because,” You explain, rolling up your own sleeve to expose the eight pointed star on your arm. “We might have something in common.”

Your entire body erupts into shivers both from the cold wind against your soaked skin and the way your soulmark buzzing.

The star stands out against your skin and you watch Sirius’ eyes widen, his jaw going slightly slack.

“Sirius.” You whisper. “I need to know if you’re my soulmate.”

The rain pounds against the castle, wind whistles, and thunder claps, and yet you don’t jump. You’re too focused on Sirius’ expression.

Silently, he brings his index finger to your mark and lightly traces the shape with his fingertip. His finger is cold, but you barely realize it because of the shock that runs through your body, originating from his touch. Goosebumps run wildly across your flesh.

He swallows harshly before pulling away and recklessly pushes his sleeve up the length of his arm. Your heart beats wildly in your chest in anticipation.

Sirius shoves his arm in front of you and you bring your gaze to focus on the inside of his elbow.

And there it is.

His soulmark.

Your soulmark.

The lines are clean and the points are sharp, the star is clear against his skin.

“Oh.”

“You’re my soulmate.” Sirius mutters. “Oh thank Merlin!” He’s laughing, a smile growing across his face.

His laughter is infectious and you find yourself joining him, practically jumping with glee.

Sirius latches onto you, pulling your wet bodies close. He brings his lips to your forehead, warmth spreading from the contact.

“We should celebrate.” Sirius remarks, pulling away just enough to see your entire form.

“Hold on.” You chuckle. “I think you’re forgetting to do something.”

His grey eyes flick down to your lips. “How could I ever forget the best part?” He smirks.

You lips are slow to connect, relishing in the sounds of the rain and how his his hands wrap around your elbows, thumb pressed into your mark.

When they finally join together, you feel whole. Like two puzzle pieces linked together. Eyes flutter shut as emotion run rampant through your body. Your mark tingles before fizzling out when you and Sirius disconnect.

You’re breathless as you cling onto him, as he clings onto you.

“We’ve got a party to throw,” Sirius grabs your hand. “soulmate.”

A stupid grin makes its way across your face.

“Lead the way, soulmate.”

•

Sirius Black Taglist: @quindolyn @fific7 @msmb @lunalovecroft

All Character Taglist: @aspiringsloth20 @amourtentiaa @cherie-draco

#Sirius black #sirius black x reader #Sirius black fluff #sirius black fanfiction #sirius black imagine #the marauders x reader

[enchantingzinehairdoweasel]

Random Bakusquad Headcanons of Mine:

Types of music they listen to -

Bakugo: Hard rock, metal, alternative rock, and occasionally lo-fi to calm him down (blame Midoriya and his therapist). He pretends to be annoyed by his friends music tastes but he really doesn’t care all that much on road trips. Kirishima: He doesn’t have a particular favorite, to be honest he kind of just vibes to whatever. But he absolutely jams out to “Cool Kids” and “Cooler Than Me”. He definitely had a My Chemical Romance phase in middle school so he’s responsible for “Teenagers” being in the Squads Playlist, which actually made Shinsou genuinely smile when he first joined their squad. Kaminari: Anything dubstep or EDM, this boy is a hardcore dancer and no one can convince me otherwise (I especially love the idea of him being amazing at shuffle). He usually dances around with Mina when he turns one of his playlist on. Sero: He loves Latin music since it helps him stay connected to his heritage, although he loves vibing to whatever his friends listen to as well. The fact that he speaks Spanish makes it hysterical whenever his friends are playing a random Spanish song about sex and they don’t understand it. Ashido: She absolutely loves western music and rap, especially when it’s female rappers because of how aggressively fun she finds the lyrics. She probably listens to Megan Thee Stallion, Cardi B, ppcocaine, Doja Cat, Maliibu Miitch, and a lot more. Catch her dancing and singing along to vulgar songs with Kaminari. Jirou: She loves every type of genre and is capable of picking out something she loves in a song that is absolute garbage, she will appreciate every song out there even if it takes effort. Although she has a soft spot for the song “Somebody I Used to Know” and listens to “Jenny” whenever she thinks about her seemingly one sided crush on Yaoyorozo. Shinsou: Genuinely doesn’t know what he likes the most but he definitely listens to My Chemical Romance and he isn’t sure whether or not he finds it embarrassing. He kind of listens to songs he can vent/relate/lowkey jam to, like “Control” “I Am Not a Robot” “Cool Kids” “Stressed Out” “Parents” etc. If you listen really closely you can sometimes hear him softly humming “Electric Love” while looking over at Kaminari during class (he doesn’t even realize it, as Sero puts it he’s absolutely whipped for that dumbass). Utsushimi: While she isn’t able to hang out with them constantly, she definitely influences their music taste a bit. For some reason she has a strong love for kpop and western music/rap, when it comes to kpop you’ll find her crying literal tears of happiness whenever a Japanese version of a song releases. She probably hardcore vibes to songs like “Body” “Give Her Some Money” “Tia Tamera” “S.L.U.T”while also vibing to “LA DI DA” “Kill This Love” “Hip” “Style” etc.

Shinsou quotes Ghost Stories and everyone both loves and hates it so much, this is one of the reasons why Bakugo doesn’t care that he hangs out with Monoma instead sometimes (they both binged Ghost Stories together so they quote it together). Monoma, from across the cafeteria: WELL SHES EITHER A BITCH OR A GHOST. Shinsou: RUN SHES A GHOST AND A BITCH Bakugo: oh for fucks sake.

Every so often you’ll hear someone go “sheeeeesh” from Bakusquad and no one knows who it is, it infuriates Bakugo to the point where he openly threatens to slam them through a window. Random things you’ll hear them say on a daily basis - Kirishima: that’s not very plus ultra of you. Ashido: RIP THAT PUSSY AYY— Kaminari: gotta go geT SOME DICK TODAY—Shinsou: Well I might as well just die today. Sero: I’m finna act up— Bakugo: I don’t know who the fuck those losers are?? (As he gestures to his squad lighting a barrel on fire)

Surprisingly Sero has the best drip in the squad, Kirishima is pouting in the background with his limited edition crocs.

Kaminari dresses like a stereotypical twink and that is a fact (he got the crop top, shorts, and fishnets once he finally catches a sense of style in second year, thank the fashion police Aoyama and Monoma).

The Wicked Witch of the East argument definitely happened and it was between Bakugo and Sero.

Kirishima absolutely told the squad about how Kaminari basically called Shinsou hot to his face, he was teased for weeks but it was worth it in the end (he has a hot goth boyfriend now).

Kaminari fought to have Shinsou in Bakusquad and just barely won because Ashido mentioned that it was a possible love story in the making, Midoriya and Uraraka gave in because of that.

Although in the end he’s still considered a part of Dekusquad as well, the only two reasons why he hangs out with Bakusquad more is because 1. His boyfriend is in Bakusquad and 2. He’s not allowed to vape/smoke weed when he’s with Dekusquad because Iida won’t let him. He’s also dragged along with Monoma’s squad so he’s constantly being tugged around different groups.

He actually has his own squad but he’ll be six feet under before he admits that (Squad Members: Monoma, Hatsume, Yoarashi, Shishikura, and Utsushimi). If you want to understand that dynamic just watch my “Shinsou & Friends as Tiktoks” compilations lmao.

They all have tiktok, although they also share a group account called “Bakusquad Shenanigans” that records their “best moments”. Their most viewed compilations of each member include: “Denki is a Dumbass”, “Shinsou is an Icon”, “Sero is Mexican Guys”, “Kirishima Being Concerned for Three Minutes”, “‘Kacchan’ Being Whipped For His Boyfriends”, “Why Camie is a Snacc 😩💕✨”, “Mina is Also a Dumbass”, “Jirou Asks the Boys of 3a ‘Girl Questions’”

Sometimes Ashido will burst into her friend dorm rooms when they forget to lock their doors and shouts “HAVING SEX??” She regrets doing this sometimes as she has caught her all friends in the act at least once in fact -

Shinkami: Twice (she cackles whenever she recalls this, Kaminari didn’t really care but Shinsou was mortified the first time it happened)

Todobakudeku: Once (This actually got her to start knocking on those threes’ doors)

Serozaki: Three times (she has apologized profusely each and every time because Shiozaki deserves better, although she could care less about how Sero feels. The best part is they weren’t even doing anything that serious, it was legit just them making out)

She’s an absolute hypocrite because she would be extremely pissed if anyone did this to her and Kirishima

(If you wonder why I ship Sero and Shiozaki it’s very simple: it started off as a crack ship because I love the Stoner! Sero headcanon and I refuse to believe that Shiozaki doesn’t smoke weed as well. Now I see them as a genuinely wholesome and loving couple that are very much supportive of each other)

When they were bored they made a ranking of who’s the hottest (they don’t consider the last person unattractive it’s just that they’re all really attractive):

1. Shinsou - Kaminari is completely biased and the others just agreed with this selection because it’s the right choice (except Bakugo of course)

2. Bakugo - Best believe he was pissed when he got second place, he called his boyfriends and bitched about it (cue Midoriya offering sympathy and sweetly complimenting him while Todoroki cackles in the background)

3. Kaminari - He’s satisfied because he knows for a fact he’s pretty as hell, plus his boyfriend is the winner so suck it guys

4. Jirou - She genuinely didn’t really care what she ranked, since she already knows she’s attractive

5. Ashido - Lowkey salty that she wasn’t higher but understands because damn are all her best friends unfairly hot.

6. Sero - High key salty and bitched about this ranking as soon as he saw the paper, the squad had to give him a group hug and shower him in compliments to make up for it because “damnit yes Sero you’re a hottie too”

Camie wasn’t allowed to enter because her natural beauty is leagues ahead of theirs, they call her a goddess for a reason 💅✨

#my hero academia #boko no hero academia #bnha shinsou #shinsou hitoshi #hitoshi shinsou #shinkami #denki kaminari #kamishin #bakugou katsuki #eijirou kirishima #ashido mina #mina ashido #bakusquad shenanigans #bakusqaud #bakusquad #bakusquad headcanons #sero hanta #hanta sero #kyouka jirou #jirou kyouka #katsuki bakugo #todobakudeku #kirimina #shiozaki ibara #ibara shiozaki #camie utsushimi #kirishima eijiro #kaminari denki #mha headcanons #zappycat

[lazarettta]

I’m Not A Witch

Characters ( Cordelia Goode, Misty Day, and Reader)

Word Count 3k

Warnings (Minor drug use 💨)

You don’t have a bad background, in fact your life is pretty cushy but not without its problems namely...you being able to do things with your mind but you have no control. Thankfully, Cordelia and Misty scoop you up before you head down a path of self-destruction. Platonic af but there could be something if you squint I think 🤔

~~

New Orleans was a world different from New York. A world different. You were born and raised in New York—it was your whole life, and you never really thought about a life outside of the city that never slept. Why would you want to leave the city that everyone wanted to be apart of? Well that's what you thought for twenty-three years.

You lived a comfortable life your entire existence, you didn't have to struggle nor were you ever afraid of your future. Your parents always made sure that you were well taken care of, nothing but the best for you and you knew how fortunate you were especially being a foster kid. You were born to Mr and Mrs Hawthorne, a wealthy couple who couldn't have a baby of their own so they went with the next best thing that money could afford—surrogacy.

It had taken your parents months to find the perfect candidate as Mr. Hawthorne, your father, would use his own semen (yikes dad). But that was all that you knew, you had no idea the identity of the woman they hired to carry you for nine months other than she was the nicest young woman your mother has ever met.

It wasn't a topic that could've been avoided as you got older and noticed that your complexion was a few shades more than theirs. But thankfully your parents were always open and honest with you, even at a young age. Of course you had a nanny growing up, both of your parents were lawyers—their time was always stretched far too thin, but you weren't a neglected child nor were you ungrateful and they loved you so much for it.

Which was why you never told them about your newfound skill when you hit your sweet sixteen—everyone thought the candle that nearly melted your entire birthday cake was a fluke incident but you knew that it wasn't. You had felt the heat of the fire as you watched your father set the tip of the match against the wick of the candle. For a brief moment you wondered what would've happened to your cake if it was on fire, you thought it would look pretty badass. You hadn't exactly expected it to actually happen! But it did and thankfully no one was injured just thoroughly freaked out.

Your parents laughed it off, quite nervously, but you never said anything about it to them and they never really brought it up again anyway. Unbeknownst to them, of course they were always at work and the penthouse housekeeper wasn't required twenty-four seven, you were able to fool around with your newfound hobby with relative peace in your room. Well until you nearly set the place on fire twice in the same month, after that you just went to the roof and googled meditation practices on google.

You only ever couldn't control the fire unless you were an emotional wreck. For two years, you kept that secret to yourself and if you didn't have friends before you sure as shit didn't then. No one really liked you anyway, your parents were richer than most of everyone else's and your parents actually gave a damn about you and not just about how you were going to make them look in the future.

They tried to bully you about your height but you weren't a punk, so that was short lived. Students envied you but that was okay. They didn't have anything to offer you, that's what your mom always told you anyway. Besides there was nothing wrong with being short, it just meant you had more to offer. Of course.

When you turned eighteen, you discovered something else about yourself...and you weren't exactly sure what you wanted to call it but you could always tell if someone was lying to you if you listened hard enough.

You weren't sure how it worked but you never took any real notice to it until your ex girlfriend, and your only girlfriend, lied to you and you felt a bit of a...you wouldn't say it was a jolt but your insides felt the same type of tingle when your foot fell asleep or something.

That's how you figured out your first love (high school, right?) was cheating on you...you hadn't dated anyone after that. How could you when all people did was lie?

And the minute they learned that you were a Hawthorne...it was done. You saved yourself the heartache and just focused on the future. You managed to graduate college a year early and you didn't go to jail for arson, yet.

The older you got and the more you learned about how shitty people could be, meditation and yoga stopped working so well for you and you ended up joining a gym. No martial arts or anything like that, you didn't have the time for it, but you hired a trainer and five days a week that’s what kept you grounded.

Presently...

You weren't currently working, well not anymore. Less than a month ago you were a nurse at Mercy hospital as a CRNA. It was a late night already and an unruly patient was brought in for a gunshot wound. Somehow he managed to slip out of his bonds and before anyone could stop him, the bastard had his hands around your throat and you'd...you just fucking panicked and he ending up burning to death from the inside.

No one knew how it happened they couldn't even prove that you had even done anything, but you were fired on the spot anyway...and your parents had to shovel out a good amount of money and blackmail to keep your name from the papers.

You hadn't searched for a job after that, what was the point? Your name may not have been dragged through the papers but you sure as hell weren't gonna be working at any hospital anytime soon. At least...not in Manhattan.

But after what happened...what you did to that man, the cruelty of it? Why would you? You'd been high strung after that and you picked up a habit you ditched after you left college.

It just helped you regulate your emotions better and to think, plus you just liked the way it made you feel. It also helped with the nightmares that would plague you every night, and the scene was always the same. He was always on top of you screaming to a pain too gruesome for words.

Your parents tried therapy but you were stubborn besides your medicine was better than theirs anyway.

Your father didn't know about your newfound hobby but your mom did, and she wasn't going to tell him either. She was just thankful that it wasn't crack or cocaine—she could deal with her daughter turning into a weed connoisseur. But she would not support an unproductive one.

That was exactly why she was on her way back into the city to your penthouse with two guests in tow. Doing her best not to cry in front of these two women who have proven to her that they could not only help you but take care of you in a way that she couldn't.

But she knew when your birthday cake went up in flames...she had been watching you the entire time, and in that moment...every warning and tale that your birth mother told her came to light. But she made a promise to love you like you were her own, because you were, and she'd love every freaky little tic that came with you.

As a mother it was hard for your mom to accept that this wasn’t something that she could do for you. But she was woman enough not to stand in the way of her daughter's success...whatever it was that you chose to do.

~~

You were sitting out on your balcony wearing your black robe with nothing else on except a pair of panties and your Prince tank top that you should've gotten rid of years ago but it was still one of your favorite—holes and all. You'd been blissfully in your own little world for a few hours now with your iPad sitting in your lap with some Stevie Nicks playing in the background over the speakers coming from inside your penthouse.

It was just the right volume that it wasn't too loud but the city noises didn't drown it out either. You'd just polished off your fourth bowl, something grape...whatever, you were just enjoying your time. You went back to drawing, head bopping softly and you were so lost in your own little world you didn't realize that you were alone in your penthouse. There were three different sets of high heels that you missed though you just about jumped out of your skin when your mother came into view via your peripherals.

“Oh!” you smiled bright and wide, eyes a tad bit low, “Hey mom, what are you...um...who are they?” you sat up quickly, unaware that your robe fell open with the movement and your mom nearly facepalmed. You set your tablet aside, doing a double take at the blonde with the curly hair that was lowkey dancing to Fleetwood playing in the background. You looked at your mom, your smile morphing into a confused frown, “Mom?”

“Sweetheart,” your mom soothed back a long strand of dark hair and cleared her throat softly which worried you even more because your mom was never one to be nervous, ever, “This is Cordelia Goode and Misty Day.”

Subconsciously you reached into your robes pocket and pulled out a bright orange stress ball you got from the bodega for a whopping five bucks. (You had to have been high as fuck not to argue that price down but whatever.) You squeezed it softly, licking your dry lips, “Um...hi? Did I do something to you guys too? If I did I'm so sorry, I—”

“No, baby, no,” your mother sat next to you, quickly fixing your robe and your messy hair and Cordelia's brown eyes shot to Misty, who had immediately stopped dancing, “Just...are you hungry? Orange juice maybe?”

“Mrs. Hawthorne?” you looked up at the blonde woman came up behind your mother with a soft smile, “If I may, in my experience it is always better to just rip it off just like a band-aid.”

“Rip what off?” you pulled away from your mom, scooting away and hated seeing that hurt look on her face but there was something going on, you were not that paranoid.

“Honey, this is just a little intervention and—”

Laughing, you scooted away from your mom again, “What? Mom, it’s just pot—”

Your mom waved away your comment with a roll of her eyes, “Honey, I don’t care about the grass—”

“Then what…”

“Zip!”

You quickly shut your mouth when your mom said that and have you that look, it was one you knew quite well growing up. It baffled you how it was still working on you.

Your mom sighed, “It's just for a little while and I'll make sure that this place is well cared for.”

“Wait what?! You're sending me away??”

“(Y/n).” the blonde, Cordelia, pulled your attention from your mom who was crying, Cordelia sat on the edge of your coffee table carefully while Misty continued to hover in the background curiously, but prepared in case you got jumpy, “We just want to help you, okay? We're not here to kidnap you or harm you in any way.”

“I can't be helped,” you scoffed, rolling your eyes even as the tears spilled over, “I—I don't know what you think you know, Miss Goode but...”

“I know quite a bit, (Y/n),” Cordelia held out her hand and suddenly your stash box flew past your head making you flinch but Cordelia caught it just fine and you stared at her wide eyed, “You and I? We aren't so different and at Miss Robichaux's academy for exceptional young ladies...we teach young witches such as yourself how to survive in the modern world.”

“Witches? You think I'm a witch? No way, mom c'mon...the...the stash box trick was cool and all, but witches? Mom! Mom please, you're not buying this are you?” but even as you questioned it, you knew that they were telling the truth and that's what scared you the most. “How do you know they're not trying to use this for your money?”

“We're not, I promise! We don't need your family's money, (Y/n). All we want is to help you.”

“Listen to her, honey, this is for your benefit, okay? And...these women are very nice people, so don't give them trouble, not that you would, right?”

You looked over your mothers shoulder at Misty, the woman offering you a smile and a playful wink.

You exhaled heavily, your eyes sliding back to your mom, “...and you're not getting rid of me right? Because of...what I can do? Or what I've done?”

“No! Absolutely not, it was an accident! If anything it was the faulty bonds they put that monster in! Honestly,” your mother huffed, “your father and I still have half a mind about suing that hospital…”

“But not without having to drag my name through the mud.” You mumbled, sighing heavily.

“I love you, (Y/n), so damn much. Yes, we would’ve gotten millions but you’re worth much more to your father and I, don't you forget that,” Your mom reached over and grabbed your hand, squeezing gently before standing and quickly gathering her Prada bag, “and...don't worry about your father with all of this. I'll break this to him myself but baby...promise me that you will try?”

You bit your bottom lip, nodding slowly and holding her hand tighter almost painfully so before surging up and hugging your bother tight, and even though she was in high heels your slight frame made it easy for her to catch most of your weight. She hugged you back just as fiercely, kissing your forehead twice before letting you go.

“And here—for emergencies and whatever you might need, honey.” your mom pushed her black card into your trembling hands, the weight of it denser than you expected it to be and it made you laugh, of course your mom would shove money at you. It was her love language, you stopped questioning it a very long time ago but you never took advantage of it. “I love you so so much.”

Cordelia watched the entire exchange silently with an ever curious eye, even daring to risk raising an eyebrow when she saw your mom push that unmarked card into your hands before skirting off. Your mom reminded her a bit of her own mother...money was Fiona’s love language as well.

But your mom was much more pleasant, her love for you blossomed like a rose rather than a thorn bush.

You exhaled shakily, hands fidgeting in front of you, “I...what now?”

“Now we get down to business,” Misty smiled at you, stepping into the space your mom once occupied and took your hands in both of her own, “Your mama is resourceful, she tracked us down and everything, but it wasn't like it was all that hard since Delia and I were lookin' for you too.”

“You...you were?” you looked over your shoulder at Cordelia still sitting on your coffee table, “Why?”

“We heard about what happened to the man at the hospital and even though you weren't named, it wasn't that hard to track you down and we happened to cross paths with your mother.”

“Figures...” you nodded, sniffling again and you quickly pulled your hands from Misty when a breeze hit your skin—reminding you how indecent you were among two strangers.

You fixed your robe again and quickly sat down and Misty followed you down, bouncing slightly almost a little too close—your high was completely worn off at this point, “Earlier you said that you were helping wit...people like me live in the modern world? What?”

“Yes, we help witches such as yourself avoid situations like the one you currently experienced.”

You raised an eyebrow at her wording and she smiled at you when you met her eyes. You scoffed, crossing your arms over your chest—appearing unbothered even if you were still sniffling, damn. Your mood swings were going to give you whiplash one of these days.

“You don’t really expect me to go around calling myself a witch do you?”

Cordelia’s eyes narrowed a fraction, “What I expect, (Y/n), is for you to actually make an attempt. There will be rules and the sooner you drop the attitude, the easier this will be for all of us—you especially.”

You opened your mouth to argue back but then you quickly shut your mouth, your mom's words bouncing around in your head to stop causing trouble. Along with the promise you made to her.

Misty was sitting still next to you, and though you couldn’t see it—her eyes were darting back and forth between you and Cordelia with a bit of a grin trying to break free.

“Right, and um where is this school of yours again? If I even agree to this at all?”

Cordelia gave you a look that you couldn't really decipher, “Miss Robichaux's academy is in California.”

Your eyes flew back to hers immediately, “I don't wanna go around calling you a liar Miss Goode, I only just met you...but you and I both know that's not true.”

“Ah, so it is true...you do have some form divination.”

She led you right into a trap and you couldn’t even be annoyed by that, Cordelia was proving to be a lot more than she appeared. “Divination? What is that? Is there anything my mom didn't tell you?”

“Well, she didn't tell us ya favorite food.” Misty supplied unhelpfully, attempting to break the building tension with poor humor. And you couldn't hold back your smile, deciding that you liked her a lot.

“You're a walking lie detector, dear. That's quite handy in today's world.”

Misty chuckled before one of her arms came around your shoulders, “Oh yes, and Madison is just gonna love you!”

“Don't worry, you’ll fit right in.” Cordelia chuckled, still sitting directly across from you and there was a bit of a twinkle in her brown eyes, she knew you were going to be trouble and that she would have to keep a close eye on you. But if there was one thing that Cordelia enjoyed, it was a challenge.

~~

I dunno what I’m doing for real lol it’s 1am and I’m in my garage on a tablet 😅😅I thought this was fun

#ahs coven #cordelia goode #misty day #cordelia goode x reader #cordelia goode x misty day #sarah paulson #ahs coven imagine #american horror story #lily rabe #ahs cordelia #ahs misty

[piratewithvigor]

My first thought in regard to every band that gets played on my radio station

ACDC: Every dad’s favourite band

Adams, Bryan: Every mom’s favourite singer until Michael Buble came along

Aerosmith: haha they thought Vince Neil was a lady

Alice Cooper: he’s a Game Of Thrones fanboy and I have proof

Alice In Chains: my sister doesn’t like them because she decided AC were Alice Cooper’s initials ONLY

Allman Brothers Band: good music for dropping acid to

Allman, Gregg: That’s too many Gs for one name

Animals: House Of The Rising Sun, or who even cares

Argent: Sometimes Hold Your Head Up is really catchy

Asia: Tuesdays

Autograph: one of the members went on to be a pharmacist

Bachman-Turner Overdrive: There are just so many pop culture jokes about Taking Care Of Business that whatever I say won’t be as funny

Bad Company: with their song; Bad Company, off their album; Bad Company

Benatar, Pat: Always getting her confused with Patti Smith

Black Crowes: I like them for Lickin, but it doesn’t seem to exist outside of one shoddy video on youtube and my old CD

Blackfoot: this band name feels kind of racy

Black Sabbath: Dio was not better or worse than Ozzy; just different

Blondie: I like Call Me, but Blondie confuses me stylistically

Blue Oyster Cult: MORE COWBELL

Bon Jovi: Hello, childhood trauma, I missed you

Boston: ONE GUY. ONE GUY DID IT ALL AND NO ONE KNOWS

Bowie, David: Don’t let your children watch The Man Who Fell To Earth, or David Bowie’s will end up being the third penis they see in life

Browne, Jackson: Another musician ruined by Supernatural

Buffalo Springfield: Jack Nicholson was at the riot they sing about

Burdon, Eric: no ideas, brain empty

Bush: ditto

Candlebox: ditto once more. Who are these people?

Cars: This band feels so gay and so straight at the same time, I can only assume they’re the poster children of bisexual panic

Cheap Trick: I played Dream Police on Guitar Hero so fucking much because it was the only song anyone who played with me could keep up with

Chicago: Chicago 30 exists, but they do not have 30 albums. Fucking riddle me that

Clapton, Eric: 6 discs in one Greatest Hits is too many. That’s called “re releasing your discography”

Cochrane, Tom: For some reason, everyone thinks Rascal Flats did it better

Cocker, Joe: Belushi did it right

Collective Soul: who?

Collins, Phil: If his biggest hits were done by MCR, they would be emo anthems, but because he’s 5′6″ and from the 80s, they’re not

Cream: *Vietnam flashbacks on the hippie side*

CCR: *Vietnam flashbacks on the war side*

CSNY: David Crosby; meh

Deep Purple: THEY’RE SO MUCH MORE THAN SMOKE ON THE WATER

Def Leppard: the only music for when you’re a heartbroken bitch but also a sexy one

Derek And The Dominos: Clapton and ‘Layla’ broke up

Derringer, Rick: Tom Petty if he was from the midwest

Dio: You thought it was an anime reference, but it was me, Dio

Dire Straits: You can tell how bigoted a radio station is based on how much of Money For Nothing they censor

Doobie Brothers: I have yet to smoke weed, but I listen to the Doobies, and I think that’s pretty close

Dylan, Bob: I take back everything I said about him in my youth

Eagles: Hotel California isn’t their best song, but the memes that come from it are second to none

Edgar Winter Group: @the--blackdahlia

Electric Light Orchestra: Actually an orchestra and sound a fuckton like George Harrison

ELO: I really hesitate to ask what happens with the 7 virgins and a mule

Essex, David: no prominent memories of him

Fabulous Thunderbirds: cannot spell

Faces: Who on earth thought that was a good album name?

Faith No More: I got nothing

Fixx: One Thing Leads To Another is a damn bop

Fleetwood Mac: I ain’t straight, but I’m simply not enough of a witch to enjoy them to full potential

Fogerty, John: He got sued cause he sounded like himself

Foghat: Slow Ride slowly becoming less coherent feels like a drug trip

Foo Fighters: He was just excited to buy a grill

Ford, Lita: deserved better

Foreigner: dramatically overplayed

Frampton, Peter: a masterful user of the talk box

Free: dramatically underplayed

Gabriel, Peter: leaving Genesis changed him a lot

Genesis: if someone likes Genesis, clarify the era, because yes, it does matter

Georgia Satellites: sing like you have a cactus in your ass

Golden Earring: Twilight Zone slaps, but it doesn’t slap as hard as this station thinks it does

Grand Funk Railroad: Funk

Grateful Dead: I like their aesthetic more than their music

Great White: there are so many fucking shark jokes

Greenbaum, Norman: makes me think of Subway for some reason

Green Day: the first of the emo revolution

Greg Kihn Band: RocKihnRoll is literally the most clever album name I’ve ever seen

Guns N Roses: They have more than three good songs, but radio stations never recognize that

Hagar, Sammy: I’m still trying to figure out where he lived to take 16 hours to get to LA driving 55 and how fucking fast was he driving beforehand?

Harrison, George: He went from religious to rock, and if he had continued rocking, he would have gotten too cool 

Head East: I respect people who use breakfast foods as album names

Heart: Magic Man and Barracuda are played at least once every goddamn day. They’re not even the best songs!

Hendrix, Jimi: I have both a cousin and a sibling named after Hendrix references

Henley, Don: Dirty Laundry gives me too much inspiration

Hollies: Somehow sound like they’re both from the 60s and the 80s at the same time

Idol, Billy: he’s doing well for himself

INXS: Terminator vibes

Iris, Donnie: knockoff Roy Orbison

James Gang: too many funks

Jane’s Addiction: if TMNT had a grunge band representative

Jefferson Airplane: *assorted cheers*

Jefferson Starship: *assorted boos*

Jethro Tull: The only band to make you feel not cool enough to play the flute

Jett, Joan: icon

J. Geils Band: I requested them on the radio once and it got played

Joel, Billy: he really did just air everybody’s business like that

John Cafferty And The Beaver Brown Band: literally wtf is that name

John, Elton: yarn Elton sits in my basement, unstaring. Please someone take him from me

Joplin, Janis: Queen

Journey: Stop overplaying Don’t Stop Believing. It takes away from the rest of the repetoire

Judas Priest: literally started the gay leather aesthetic

Kansas: another fucking band Supernatural stole

Kenny Wayne Shepherd: the man confuses me to the point where he isn’t in the right place alphabetically

Kiss: Mick Mars and I will simply have to disagree on the subject

Kravitz, Lenny: runaway vibes

Led Zeppelin: Fucking fight me if you don’t think they’re the most talented band (maybe not the most talented individually, but collectively, no one comes close)

Lennon, John: My least favourite Beatle for reasons

Live: I got nothin

Living Colour: slap a decent amount

Loverboy: do you not get TURNT the fuck up to the big Loverboy hits? Who hurt you??

Lynyrd Skynyrd: Sweet Home Alabama is a Neil Young diss track

Marshall Tucker Band: no opinion

Manfred Mann’s Earth Band: VERY STRONG OPINIONS THAT THEY AREN’T GOOD

McCartney, Paul/Wings: Power couple

Meatloaf: I have nothing but respect for a man who willingly named himself Meatloaf

Mellencamp, John: voted cutest lesbian of 1987

Metallica: I liked their appearance on Jimmy Fallon

Midnight Oil: I get them confused for Talking Heads a lot

Modern English: who?

Molly Hatchet: Hollies vibes, but also Georgia Satellites vibes

Money, Eddie: DAN AVIDAN, IF YOU SEE THIS, COVER TAKE ME HOME TONIGHT

Motley Crue: Stan Mick Mars and John Corabi. They’re the only ones who deserve it

Mott The Hoople: no one loves them except for David Bowie

Mountain: props for naming an album ‘Climbing’

Nazareth: I want to make a John Mulaney joke here, but I can never come up with one

Nicks, Stevie: witch queen

Night Ranger: I get them confused with Urge Overkill

Nirvana: Kurt Cobain was the ally grunge needed

Nova, Aldo: he’s Canadian, at least

Nugent, Ted: *serves a ghost as jerky*

Offspring: nothing here

Osbourne, Ozzy: this bitch crazy

Outfield: Your Love is kind of a sketchy song, but it slaps hard

Palmer, Robert: low quality Eddie Money

Pearl Jam: *grunts in Eddie Vedder*

Petty, Tom: I have so many feelings about Tom Petty and they are all good

Pink Floyd: which one is Pink?

Plant, Robert: solo career is a crapshoot, but his voice is unparalleled

Poison: I want them to write a song called ‘Alice Cooper’

Pretenders: I want to say good things, but I have nothing to say

Queen: A doctor of astrophysics, a screaming girl, a disco queen and a diva walk into a bar. It’s Queen; they’re there to play a gig

Queensryche: neutral opinion

Quiet Riot: they got big because of a song they hated. I love that

Rafferty, Gerry: the second-sexiest sax opening in all of music

Rainbow: Ritchie Blackmore created something very magnificent

Ram Jam: one good song and they didn’t even write it

Ratt: I’m sure they have more than Round And Round, but I don’t know it

RHCP: funky, but if you have paid money to hear them, you’re going to The Bad Place (I don’t make the rules)

Red Rider: basically Golden Earring

Reed, Lou: Walk On The Wild Side would be such a cool song if it wasn’t so dull

REM: American Tragically Hip

REO Speedwagon: Props for having a dad joke as an album title

Rolling Stones: Never in my life could I imagine the drummer being named anything but Charlie

Rush: How to make being uncool the coolest fucking shit

Santana: The world needs more Santana

Scandal: There’s something really funny about The Warrior being my brother’s “song” with his girlfriend

Scorpions: Was Wind Of Change written by the CIA? Only the spotify podcast I got an ad for once could say

Seger, Bob: A different variety of Eric Clapton (frankly a better variety, but that’s just me)

Simple Minds: we ALL forgot about you

Skid Row: Sebastian Bach is prettier than all of us

Soundgarden: music that makes you feel like you dunked your head underwater

Springsteen, Bruce: my arch-nemesis. Maybe someday, he’ll find out about it

Squeeze: according to my friends, the stupidest band name ever, but they’re theatre kids, so you know

Squier, Billy: If he can make it through 1984 alive, you can make it through whatever bad day you’re having

Stealers Wheel: Yet another band who I always mistake for George Harrison

Steely Dan: my house’s nickname for the Robber in Settlers Of Catan

Steppenwolf: Either makes me think of Jay & Silent Bob, Jack Nicholson, or that time I had to cut 6lbs of onions

Steve Miller Band: when you’re in the right mood, they slap hard

Stewart, Rod: my soundtrack to summer 2015

Stills, Stephen: Love The One You’re With Is Catchy, but the lyrics are questionable

Stone Temple Pilots: the only band to write a song about goo you smear on yourself

Stray Cats: an obscene amount of merch is available for them

Styx: Supernatural would have ruined them for me too if I hadn’t been into them previously. 

Supertramp: I hunted for Breakfast In America for two years and it was worth every hunt

Sweet: I will never understand my two-month obsession with Ballroom Blitz when I was 15, but it was legit all I listened to

Talking Heads: you may find yourself in a pizza hut. And you may find yourself in a taco bell. And you may find yourself at the combination pizza hut and taco bell. And you may ask yourself; ‘how did I get here?’

Temple Of The Dog: I keep confusing them for Nazareth

Ten Years After: somehow still relevant

Tesla: not the car or the dude

The Beatles: Evokes a lot of opinions from people. Mine is that I love them

The Clash: I showed my sister the ‘Lock The Taskbar’ vine ONCE and it still kills her

The Doors: evokes teenage terror from deep within my soul

The Guess Who: Canada’s answer to confusing question-themed band names

The Kinks: kinky

The Police: wrote the theme of 2020 and everyone somehow forgot it was about a teacher resisting becoming a pedophile

The Ramones: playing all of their songs in a row wouldn’t take more than 2 hours

The Romantics: you don’t think you know them, but if you’ve seen Shrek 2, you have

The Who: If someone can explain Tommy to me, I’d be glad to hear it

The Zombies: I think they happened because of the 60s

Thin Lizzy: Could the boys maybe leave town?

Thorogood, George: blues, but make it modern

Toto: the most memed song behind All Star

Townshend, Pete: just makes me think of the end of Mr. Deeds

T-Rex: Mark Bolan is an icon

Triumph: The no-name brand of Rush

Tubes: like the yogurt

Twisted Sister: they did a christmas album and my mom does NOT hate it

U2: U2 Movers; we move in mysterious ways

Van Halen: RIP Eddie

Van Morrison: honestly, who’s named Van?

Vaughn, Stevie Ray: Steamy Ray Vaughn

Walsh, Joe: The Smoker You Drink The Player You Get

War: Foghat, but even groovier

Whitesnake: the most successful band to be named after a penis

Wright, Gary: the 90s thanks him for writing the song every movie used for the “guy sees cute girl and it’s love at first sight” scene

Yes: To Be Continued

Young, Neil: The best part of CSNY

Zevon, Warren: the album cover of Excitable Boy makes me deeply uncomfortable for reasons I don’t understand

ZZ Top: has been the same three guys since 1969. Lineup unchanged. 

3 Doors Down: They feel a little modern to be on a classic rock station, but whatever

38 Special: Why 38?

#I made this instead of doing homework #Classic Rock #Meme

[mego42]

Shamelessly stealing @foxmagpie​’s monthly rec thing without the ability to get my life together to do these on a monthly basis so, seasonal recs! So excited to see if I manage to do this again with anything remotely resembling consistency but i’ve been keeping the notes for approximately 43 years (or since ~september, whatever that means) so by god i’m gonna use them. 

found my thrill - s_t_c_s / @sothischickshe​

Turner POV!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

guys turner is SO OBSESSED with Beth and Rio

both canonically and in this fic

it’s gr9

also features a weirdly soothing and relatable cord untangling moment as a metaphor

truly disturbingly relatable turner pov tbh

relentless boomer disdain, always a plus

led to the creation of this monstrosity, not sure what kind of a monster would do that

War In My Mind - mintletters16

Backread!!!!

post-213, gorgeous character study 

guaranteed to make you feEl stUfF

I really love the like, cyclical, fractured pattern of Beth’s internal monologue, it gives the whole thing a really affecting at times dreamy, at times haunted vibe

the end twist is *chef’s kiss*

mourning bells - Ejunkiet / @ejunkiet​

Backread!!!!

Later s2 era, Rio’s at a funeral, gets drunk and calls Beth

V short, kind of…..mmm, not sweet, but almost? Idk

It’s got a wistful sort of almost/i can be quiet with you vibe that i go extremely bonkers for

delinquents - foxmagpie / @foxmagpie​

Lol are any of you actually not reading this yet?

g o d ch 8 where do i start

First off how ABSOLUTELY VERY DARE for the tragic angst that is delinquents!beth boland. This poor baby, this precious bean. MUST PROTEC

SHE’S TRYING HER BEST AND I LOVE HER

zero percent deserves dean’s clammy hands, no i have not forgotten, tattooed on my brain, will never forgive

I also love love love love LOVE the ruby/stan subplot happening

(and ruby’s mom!!!!!) (seriously though you write the best moms)

oh god and baby beth starting to have confusing feelings about rio?????? *chef’s kiss*

p sure i was just like, straight screaming the entire end of the chapter

the dugout is like, pure serotonin

I can’t even talk about the closet

tHe teNsiOn

thank you i will take eleventy billion

don't give it a hand, offer it a soul - medievalraven / @medievalraven

am a desperate heaux for any fic that features rio and mick friendship

you are all incredibly shocked i know

still would not be mad if this swerved into rio x mick fake dating but beth x rio is cool too i guess

Speaking of things i am a desperate heaux for: DIANE!!!!!!!!

and DATING ANNIE???????????? Blessed

honestly this fic is worth it purely for the assertion that mick watches queer eye

Why don't we go to Venus? - watermelonriddles / @bensonstablers​

another grief study! 

apparently i was working through some stuff in september, idk, that was like 4 years ago

considering it’s the premise of the fic, i don’t think it’s a spoiler to say this fic is canon divergent and working with the premise that rio killed beth in 302

he is uh, not coping well

extremely haunted you might say

lots of marcus and rhea which is a delight!

rhea is to good for him tbh

i said what i said

truly top notch dream (nightmare?) sequences

the conversation at the end is extremely uncalled for

drop the game - Ejunkiet / @ejunkiet​

Backread!!!!

Am going to die mad Beth and Rio didn’t hook up in 211 but luckily this fic scratched the itch 

(temporarily, it’s a fairly permanent itch)

Bonus rec: missing scene series i wanna do bad things to you featuring 2x02 and 2x04

Viva Voce - zetuslapetus / @querenaxx​

Whoops we woke up married Vegas shenanigans!! 

So cute!!!!! So sexy!!!!! 

What more do you want?

am desperately obsessed with how beth can’t help stalking rio

feels right, feels organic

this makes me feel a lot of stuff about how they could be without their canon garbage between them

🎶 we could’ve had it aaaaaaaaaaall 🎶

you showed me colors (i can't see them with anyone else) - gild_fire / @gild-and-fire​

really into the use of color to illustrate beth’s emotional state, i feel like there’s a word for that but idk what it is

UNIMPORTANT

really nice job capturing beth’s inner vulnerability balanced by her outer stubbornness

am DESPERATELY into Mick playing matchmaker

more please???????

Both Sides of the Law - JoeyLee / @joeyjoeylee​

LAW SCHOOL AU! I suuuuuuper love Beth and Rio here (alt pov!! a gift!!!!) I love how initially prickly they are, I love how it’s evolving into a grudging respect, I love how INCREDIBLY AND HILARIOUSLY OBSESSED WITH EACH OTHER THEY ARE and neither one of them seems to see it

listen I know we’re all already foaming at the mouth over this one but as it’s gonna go down as one of my all time favorites it bears repeating/rereccing

cannot stress enough how masterful the use of POV is here, both voices feel completely true and distinct and I love how the alternating chapters revisit, reveal and emphasize pieces of each other

i can’t talk about this fic without hyperventilating

I LOVE IT SO MUCH YOU GUYS

the slow burn is going to ACTUALLY KILL ME

rip, no regrats

Earned It - wakeupflawless / @wakeupflawless​

spanking

that’s it that’s the pitch

H O T

living for beth’s exit in the first chapter, rio and i are both incredibly into it

second chapter also features violently possessive Rio who cannot deal with anyone messing with his girl so if that’s your thing boy howdy get on it

shake, baby, shake - openhearts

backread!!!!!

according to my bookmarks this was a reread but ???????

must’ve read it in the fugue state that followed reading for a moment we were strangers which is gr9 and I believe I have recced it before. If not, horrible oversight, reccing it now

beth and Rio POV lead up to the bathroom break, beautifully done, low-key feel bad reccing it bc the end point of both chapters makes me want to throw things but it’s super worth it for the tEnsiOn. ENJOY

What the Sea Wants, the Sea Will Have - flashindie / @pynkhues​

I’m assuming all of y’all are already reading this

If not OH MY GOD FIX YOUR LIVES

P I R A T E  A U

I’m sorry maybe you didn’t hear me piRaTE aU

meticulously researched, brain-meltingly vibrant, already painfully sexy slow-burning PIRATE AU

god where to start okay so first off, the world-building here straight up breaks my brain, sophie’s put in the work and it SHOWS

second, the atmosphere. i’m generally a pretty like, vague mental picture sort of reader but the sensory detail here grabs you by the throat and like, forcibly hauls you in whether your brain’s wired that way or no

and hey speaking of throats if you, like me, go a little funny about the knees at the idea of beth holding a knife to rio’s throat (he’s fine, calm down), there’s a v excellent beth-in-a-barrel moment for you

oh christ and the sexy tension

it’s gonna be a race to see which slow burn takes me out first, this or law school

Stunner - foxmagpie / @foxmagpie​

Another high school AU, this time with baby Rio absolutely head over heels for his older sister’s bff

stunner!Rio has an emotional earnestness about him that I feel like delinquents!Rio has already outgrown and it’s so SWEET I can’t get enough

Desperately cute!!!!!!

alL he waNts iS foR beTh tO bE hiS girL

also unreasonably angsty???????

ANN ARBOR IS NOT THAT FAR MEGAN

A Heart's A Heavy Burden - tooshyforthis / @bathroombreaks​

Howl’s Moving Castle AU!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I love Howl’s!!!!!!!!!!!

perfect opp to roast Rio for being a Dramatique Heaux 

and it’s gonna be 9 chapters?????? H Y P E

author’s note boldly presumes I did not know I needed this AU when the reality is I did in fact know I needed this AU, I just wasn’t expecting anyone to deliver

so blessed

author also claims to not be team nose stud and yet it features prominently in all its magnificent glory

what is the truth dot gif

A Bit of a Stretch - septiembre / @septiembur​

SO????? CUTE?????????

would be on this list for Rio calling Beth E alone tbh

really really really really really love this Rio POV of being settled into a relationship with Beth

It manages to be sweetly domestic af while still holding the edge that makes brio brio which is a neat trick

@septiembur may be a witch

beth’s approach to getting rio to do yoga with her is hilarious and exactly right, canon-typical amounts of subtlety 

1000000/10

Post Break-Up Sex - femalegothic / @bethsuglywigs​

stg this was called Hit Shuffle

no matter

h O T

with a side of damn i’ve made some questionable choices in my life haven’t i introspection

(no regrats tho)

(esp not with this fic)

not the point of the fic by a long shot but i’m also extremely obsessed with Weed Eddie, so real

She drains my soul... she drains it not - niham87 / @niham87​

ABSOLUTELY OBSESSED WITH THIS CONCEPT

am a complete sucker for paranormal world building that satirizes bureaucracy 

Is that a trope? If so that’s my favorite

I did it. I’m picking a single favorite. You know what that is growth dot gif

ANYWAY i love the concept, i love the humor, i love beth instantly clicking with annie

I love her and mick’s sort of grudging professional courtesy

Love beth as a champion of environmental responsibility and all of the underworld being like …...okay??

cannot wait to see where this goes

Nine-Tenths - riosnecktattoo / @riosnecktattoo​

*INCOHERENT PTERODACTYL SCREECHING*

sometimes i think about rio putting beth’s hair in a ponytail and have to go lie down

science please explain why this rUinS mE

wait hold on i skipped ahead

HEY KIDS DO YOU LIKE UNBEARABLY CUTE DOMESTIC TENDERNESS

opens with rio sleepily holding beth’s hand to his heart so that’s the kind of thing you’ll be dealing with

uGH theY’RE sO CUTe

idk why precisely but rio adding hair ties to his bracelet collection is my undoing every time

Missed Call - foxmagpie / @foxmagpie​

Rio doesn’t come home from a job when he’s supposed to. Beth (and I!!!!!!!) slowly loses her mind

Truly a masterpiece of rising tension

Will literally never forgive her for calling this light angst

I was SO STRESSED OUT

The first person to point out there was an author’s note at the beginning I obvs didn’t read is getting blocked

crush - foxmagpie / @foxmagpie​

Listen even though this is centered around two OCs, they are OCs FROM a (n iconic) brio fic AND Beth, Ruby and Rio all make cameos (I mean, Rio’s pretty present since he lives in Mar’s mind rent free bc they are THE SWEETEST MOST ADORABLE BEST OF FRIENDS so idk if i’d call it a cameo but whatever)

and even if it didn’t feature any official GG characters I’d still rec is bc that’s mY SON AND this fic is TOO CUTE

I have so many feelings over mar and rio growing up and not knowing how to cope with girls becoming a Thing in their life and how it affects their friendship and mar feeling left behind but (SPOILERS) at the end of the story rio starts feeling that too and it’s so poignant knowing how that’s going to continue in delinquents

while mar may be my son, i also claim elena’s #1 stan status

before you’re like meg you’re only reccing it bc it’s a bday present ask yourselves do i really strike you as the kind of person that wouldn’t be equally obnoxious about this either way?

truly cannot fathom how hard i have fallen for these OCs i don’t normally do that

@foxmagpie is definitely a witch

The Ottoman - Niham87 / @niham87​

look i will be the first to admit that i don’t go near as bonkers over the ottoman line in 308 as y’all do

(don’t get me wrong, i love it!!! I love that he laughs and i love that she’s pleased it just doesn’t hit my lose my whole mind button like idk, the dubby or the 306 convo, idk why)

BUT i v v v much love the context this delightful Rio POV pwp gives it

am also absolutely feral for 209 missing scene fic

and anything that captures the complexity of Rio’s s3 feelings for Beth and how twisted they’ve become

so this scratches a bunch of itches, is what i’m trying to say

Bet On It - zetuslapetus / @querenaxx​

*INCOHERENT PTERODACTYL SCREECHING*

That’s what my brain does when I think about Beth and Rio meeting in ch 1

am DESPERATELY OBSESSED WITH the tension between the two of them in this fic

I love how it plays with the ways they have to rely on but don’t trust each other

plus FAKE DATING and BED SHARING (fair warning hasn’t happened yet but the set up is there)

originally supposed to be 2 chapters, already up to 4, prayer circle it goes on forever

do you like drugs (tonight) - s_t_c_s / @sothischickshe​

v important focus on hydration, other fic should take note

extremely about the use of cut to and then flashback to enhance the ‘we were on drugs’ vibe

speaking of, beth and rio absolutely would take ecstasy to prove they are fun bc they are the exact kind of idiots that would peer pressure themselves

so glad beth kept her purse, got a bit stressed there for a second, clutches in that kind of circumstance are A Risk

not that i would know

FLAWLESS USE OF VOICEMAIL TBH

really love the ongoing denial that they are remotely into each other while proceeding to demonstrate how they are in fact, extremely into each other, great vibe

rio dances

I know my brain broke too

mmmm bacon

Navigate A Broken Path - flashindie / @pynkhues​

*INCOHERENT PTERODACTYL SCREECHING*

I have a long standing tradition of getting unreasonably obsessed with side characters so i’m not like, entirely surprised by how obsessed i am with both Mick and Mary Pat but i never in a million years considered them as a ship

AND Y E T

they fit????? so perfectly?????? It’s amazing how she developes them individually enough that i look at them together and think ah yes this makes perfect sense for both characters

and they’re such an amazing foil to Beth and Rio? 

can ships have foils? do i know what a foil is? 

unimportant

GUYS you dON’T uNDERStAN d 

hell i don’t understand

how absolutely very dare you make me care about YET ANOTHER set of gg ‘verse children

do not read this fic if you have no interest in feelings you zero percent asked for

wHA t hAPPeNED iN aLASkA?????????

A Moment’s Silence - femalegothic / @bethsuglywigs​

*makes sign of the cross*

y’all are gonna make me rediscover religion

extremely appreciate the author’s note approach to backstory top notch prioritization

listen it’s basically 3k of beth deep throating rio idk what more you need me to say about it

it is…..good stuff

bless the kinkmeme or fest whatever we’re calling it

praise - civillove / @blainesebastian​

I mean you had me at “three times rio calls beth a good girl and one time he really means it”

ephemeral rio

I left that note for myself in here in the middle of the night and haven’t the foggiest what i was thinking but i stand by it none the less

okay okay i think i know what i meant, this fic (as do all of my fav civillove brio fics) has this sort of like, liminal, in the quiet moments feel to them that makes the moments and feelings somehow feel like i’m catching a glimpse of something secret and precious???

idk i just really like it okay

Heart and Soul - riosnecktattoo / @riosnecktattoo​

oh look more unbearably sweet domestic tenderness, this time to music

thank you ma’am for my life

rio remembers beth used to play piano and gets her one and revoltingly cute shenanigans result

also hilarity

and sexiness

this fic has it all, truly

shout out to mick who sees no reason to keep rio’s feelings to himself

good girls tumblr fic - prettylittlementirosa / @hypermania​​

cheating and reccing a whole series

It’s my list and i can do what i wanna

stop crying about it, it’s four fics and they’re all AMAZING absolutely impossible to pick a fav

truly flawless characterization, next level ability to capture evocative mood, cannot get enough

three’s a crowd: who knew ballroom dancing while dean watches and grinds his teeth could be so sexy 

(trick question everything about that premise sounds A++++ and boy howdy does it live up)

feel it on the way home: rio tries to break up with beth, it goes about as well as you’d expect

(thE angSty tenSioN)

i want to play the game: [from the floor] i’m still not ready to talk about it

(rio/turner, missing scene, 10000000% a taste of what went down in that hotel room)

june after dark: pitch perfect annie pov, really really love the take that Annie is the baby whisperer, can’t fully explain why but it feels incredibly right

(ANNIE X NANCY COULD WORK SO WELL YOU GUYS)

#fingers crossed these links are right i did not double check #i like to live on the edge #truly mind boggling amount of fluff on this list i surprised myself on that one #no i will not at any point get my shit together enough to write out thoughtful commentary this is a shit posting blog first last and always #fic recs #gg fic #nbc good girls #i'll come up with a tag for these if i ever do them again #check back 37 years from now #or ~~~~~~march #whatever that means

[anactorya]

What Doesn’t Kill You (2200 words, PG-13, hospitalization, grief/mourning, mild horror)

Written for the @sambuckylibrary Halloween bingo. Prompt: witching hour. Also on AO3.

What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger. Sam’s heard it a hundred times, even believed it a few of them.

Right now, clutching the edges of his hospital chair tight enough to leave fingernail imprints in the scratchy plastic, watching Bucky waxen and still and breathing through a tube, he’s pretty sure it’s a bunch of bullshit. Because he’s fine, got a few scrapes and bruises and a knock on the head that didn’t even give him a concussion, nowhere near death’s door, and he feels weaker and more useless than he ever has. Worn out like an old dishtowel. You could hold him up to the light and see right through him.

He keeps thinking back to Steve. All the hours Sam spent sitting at his bedside after they found him half-drowned on the bank of the Potomac, waiting for him to wake up. He held it together pretty good back then, but this is different. The doctors keep saying shit like minimal brain activity and invasive life support and limits of enhanced healing, and Sam knows what that stuff means. Bucky isn’t going to wake up.

In a way, it’s more like the day Riley died, except the whole thing’s happening in slow motion and Sam gets a front row seat to every excruciating inch of that spiral towards the ground. Another person Sam loved, gone before he ever plucked up the courage to say how he felt, because he can fall backwards out of planes and leap off buildings and go toe-to-toe with alien megalomaniacs, but when it comes to letting someone else in on his heart, he’s a fucking coward.

So, yeah. Sam’s lost people before. Riley, his parents, Nat. Steve, who never even said a real goodbye. Karli, who could’ve been good if he’d gotten through to her a little earlier. But this might be the one that finally breaks him.

A hand finds his shoulder, startling him out of his reverie. It’s Rhodes, his face set in a carefully neutral expression that makes Sam want to say something shitty just to wipe it off.

He doesn’t. Rhodes has always been good to him, better than he has to be, and the guy knows what it’s like. He lost a best friend too.

Except, no, he doesn’t know, not really. Nobody does. Sam’s never told them.

“Sam,” Rhodes says, heavily, “you’ve been here for three days, and I hate to say it, but you’re starting to smell like it.”

Sam shakes his head, breathes into his hands.

“At least take a shower, sleep in an actual bed. The doctors–”

“The doctor told me to contact his family, make arrangements,” he hears himself say. His voice is very distant, very flat. “I’m his family.”

“Pepper has people,” Rhodes offers. “If you don’t wanna deal with that stuff, you don’t have to.”

A flash of anger burns in his chest–at the way everyone’s talking about this like a done deal, like it’s already over, and at the same time, at the thought that if he has to organise a, a fucking funeral for Bucky he might want to be hands-off about it, not make sure himself that everything gets done right. It’s a tangled, inchoate mess of feeling, none of which makes it out his mouth. His hands are shaking.

Rhodes squeezes his shoulder. “Go home, Sam. Be with your family.”

He leaves, and the only sound left in the room is Bucky’s mechanical breathing. The bruises on his face have faded away, healing where the damage inside of him couldn’t and leaving him looking unfairly normal. Like a still photograph of himself, except for all the damn equipment keeping him alive.

Sam got wake up you asshole and you’re not allowed to leave me here alone out of his system days ago, and now all he does is reach for Bucky’s hand and squeeze it. Bucky doesn’t squeeze back, doesn’t react at all, not even a flutter of an eyelid, and after a moment Sam lets his hand fall back to his side.

#

Louisiana means you grow up knowing magic’s real. Sam knew it long before he ever met Wanda or Strange, or saw an alien god opening portals to another world on the TV news. It isn’t some big mystery, and it’s probably the same anyplace you can head out on the water–or up a mountain or into the deeps of a forest–and not see a living soul for hours on end. It just is. You know there are things out there, strange and old and probably best left alone, so you avoid them unless you’re desperate.

Sam’s been desperate before, or thought he was. He got halfway out here after Riley died, before he remembered he preferred physics to folklore and turned the hell around.

Tonight, he isn’t so sure.

There’s a post sticking up from the bank at the edge of the water, probably the remnant of an old dock that’s long since crumbled into the water. Some people claim it’s the signpost of a drowned crossroad, though that doesn’t make a lick of sense geographically.

Either way, what the rumours say is it’s a place to get help when all human means have failed. Come out here in the hour after midnight–the witching hour, when the veil between worlds is thinnest. Take a photograph and a drop of your blood, bury them beside the post, and something will come out of the water and help you. For a price.

Now, Sam scrapes away damp earth with his bare hands, Carlos’s borrowed boat bobbing in the water behind him. Hurried out here so fast he forgot to bring tools. Lucky Carlos left his penknife in there.

The photograph is from Torres’s Polaroid phase. Ankara, he thinks, after a mission. Bucky’s usual scowl has slipped as he crouches to pet one of the ubiquitous street cats (It doesn’t matter if he’s got fleas, Sam, they can’t bite vibranium!) and Sam’s in the foreground, smiling way brighter than he’d realised at the time.

Sam bisects it carefully with the penknife, making sure no part of Bucky is visible on the section he presses into the ground, and slips the other half into his back pocket. Then he grits his teeth and draws the blade across his palm, watches the blood spatter his sunlit face.

After that, he waits.

It’s almost peaceful out here for a while, just the insect noises of the night and the plashing of the water and the sound of his own breathing. The minutes tick down toward the end of the witching hour, and he almost convinces himself this isn’t gonna work.

And then.

It’s like the air and the silence thicken, a veil drawn between him and the rest of the world. Each breath feels a little harder, the night heat heavy on his skin and a chill somewhere beneath it. A sound reaches his ears from the edge of the water. A quiet splash, and a drag of wet fabric, and a shape resolves itself out of the darkness.

She’s like the swamp made flesh. Water-weed green and dripping from head to toe, fingers slender and reaching as cypress roots, eyes feu-follet balls of light in the mossy mass of her face.

“Oh, sweetheart.” Her voice is a wet rattle like a dying breath, the sympathy in it startlingly out-of-place. “I could feel your pain miles away.”

Sam grits his teeth and draws himself to his feet. He forces himself to look her in the eyes, but there’s a wrongness about the light that burns there that makes it an effort, keeps making him want to lower his gaze. “Can you help him?” he demands. “Bring him back?”

“Help him?” says that voice. “Or help you?” Her hand comes to rest over his heart, skinny fingers splayed, and he tries not to flinch. “He isn’t the one suffering.”

His throat feels tight. “Does it matter?”

A sludgy croak of a sound. It takes Sam a moment to realise it’s her laugh. “Maybe not.” She regards him steadily. “But you’ve survived worse than this. You’d survive it again.”

It’s the kind of statement that ought to be encouraging, but the way she says it, it’s perfectly neutral, like she’s observing that there’s rain on the way, or it’s Tuesday.

The thing is, she’s right. Sam knows she is. He pulled himself back together, piece by painful piece, after Riley died. He learned to fly solo. He rebuilt his life after the Blip and talked himself around to trusting his own judgement after Steve waltzed off to the past. Now, he’s gotten used to having Bucky at his side, in his life, watching his six in the field and teasing him over dinner, but he could learn to live without it. Fly a little more carefully, trust Torres to have his back, spend more time with Sarah and the boys and the neighbours to fill the silence. He’d be almost whole again, eventually.

But godfuckingdammit, he is sick of being strong.

“Didn’t come out here for daily affirmations,” he says. “Can you help me or not?”

She inclines her head. “You can’t claim I talked you into this.”

“So you’ll do it?” He takes a deep breath. “What’s your price?”

She shrugs, trailing a hand down his arm and crouching to dig into the ground where he buried his photograph. It’s damp and dirt-stained when she unearths it, but she smiles anyway. “You’ll owe me. That’s all.”

“Owe you what?” But even as he asks, he knows the answer doesn’t matter. He’ll promise anything if it means a do-over, a chance to get it right this time, say all the things he should’ve said to Riley way back when, the things he should’ve said to Bucky months ago.

“I’ll know when I need it.” She tucks Sam’s photograph away somewhere in the folds of her garment. “Seal it with a kiss.”

Her mouth tastes like swamp water, brackish and bitter. Sam swallows down bile. And at the same time, he feels a creeping sensation like the water itself wrapping around him, twining roots around his heart, pulling him under like a gator’s death roll. He fights for breath, lungs filling up with it, tears springing to his eyes, darkness crowding his vision.

As abruptly as it crept up on him, it’s gone. He sucks in a huge breath, bending over, hands on his thighs, and when he comes back to himself, she’s gone.

#

By the time he gets back to town, he has three missed calls. One from the hospital, one from Rhodes, and one from–

His heart leaps in his chest. He’s on a plane to DC within the hour.

At the specialist treatment facility, nobody stops him to ask for ID or what he’s doing here. He finds Bucky sitting up in bed, drinking orange juice through a straw and looking bitchy about it. His face lights up like Christmas when Sam walks in, that wide unashamed smile, and Sam aches with realising how much he’s missed it.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t here,” he says.

Bucky shakes his head. “Rhodes told me the docs thought I was a goner,” he says. “Sent you home to plan my funeral. Don’t know that I could’ve stood being here, either.”

Sam exhales dizzily. “Yeah, well. Shoulda known better with your stubborn old ass. What’d you do, annoy the shit out of the Grim Reaper until he got sick of you?”

“Something like that. Guess I gotta thank that shitty knock-off serum for something, huh.” There’s an edge to his voice, like always when this stuff comes up, and Sam gets it, he does. Owing your life to something you hate is complicated.

He tries not to think about how much more complicated it would be if Bucky knew the truth.

“Hey,” he says instead, “don’t think you get to make a habit of this.” He tries to sound stern, but the tears pricking at his eyes make it hard. “Three days sitting on the crappy plastic chairs they got in here, I thought my ass was gonna fall off.”

Bucky smiles up at him, crooked, a little looser. “Now that’d be a real tragedy.”

Sam’s breath catches in his throat, heartbeat skittering. But shit, if he’s in the hole to some creepy-ass swamp goddess for who knows what kind of favour, or maybe his immortal soul, he’s damn well gonna make it count.

So he ignores the plastic chair and perches on the edge of the mattress, close enough to smell antiseptic and orange juice and feel Bucky’s warmth through his hospital gown.

(Roots wrapped around his heart, foul water on the back of his tongue, shapes moving in the depths.)

San leans in, telegraphing his intent, Bucky’s eyes fastened on his mouth. Presses their lips together, soft.

“About damn time.” Bucky sighs into the kiss, resting his forehead against Sam’s; and after a moment, Sam tastes only oranges.

#my fic #sambucky #winterfalcon #sambuckyhalloween2021 #tfatws #hospitalization for ts #grief for ts

[bakugous-bbygirl]

Okay I liked your how BAKUSQUAD would react to singing ddlg okay but how would they react to singing PJ or 3 musketeers all by ppcocaine maybe including hawks and Dabi

~How Bakusquad reacts to you singing 3 Musketeers + Dabi and Hawks~

Ooooo I like this. Also thank you for the ask! I chose 3 musketeers because it had a little more wiggle room with all 7 of them. Although PJ is a equally good song I would be willing to this for PJ but maybe with less characters for my sanity

A bit of background to make this easy: this song has hella bi vibes so if your not into that it’s not a big deal it might just be mentioned once or twice depending on the lyrics

Also slightly 18+ again. Her songs get dirty. Swearing and mentions of weed smoking

Mina

(Sp—, Sp—, Spain, what you doing?)

Hey Daddy Kaine! (Listen up)

I got bitches (You got bitches?)

Haha, ayy, ayy

Tell lil' shorty come here (Ayy, ayy, ayy, ayy)

Trap bunnie bubbles!

Again Mina is the queen of knowing ppcoacaine.

All you had to say is you have bitches and it’s over with

She pops her head from the kitchen asking if you got bitches

She knows your not serious because your relationship is like, the best.

But it’s still fun to sing

Totally killed the rest of the song together she’s the best hype woman for you

Hawks

Bitch, I still get texts from my ex

You thinkin' that she yours but she movin' to the next (The next)

No bitch can compare, they all think I'm the best (Fuckin' right)

Real witch bitch, put yo' ass in a hex (Voodoo)

Bitch, I got big stack, big flex (Big flex)

Baby call my phone, tryna blow her tax check

Call me a nympho 'cause I like good sex (Oh)

But don't be mad when you going through my texts

Fair to say he was slightly caught off guard on how confidently your saying this stuff right next to your boyfriend

At first he thought you seriously got textes from your ex with made the poor bird a little insecure

Once you explain it’s just the lyrics and that you blocked your ex before you guys started dating he’s okay

Handles it pretty calmly and just wants to know the song

You even did little dancing motions like you are really feeling yourself to this song. Damn it’s kinda hot

He doesn’t listen to it as hard as you clearly do but enough to know when it’s gonna happen again

Like a 7/10 hype man and does the background work for you to keep your energy up

Still slightly worried about the ex and sometimes goes through your texts just to make sure

Kirishima

Ayy, ayy, tell lil' shorty come here (Come here)

I'm tryna blow her back out, walking funny for the year (Wobble, wobble)

Tell me that you want me, that's the shit I always hear

I got three bitches on me like the three musketeers

Ayy, ayy (Musketeers), tell lil' shorty come here (Come here)

I'm tryna blow her back out, walking funny for the year (Wobble, wobble)

Tell me that you want me, that's the shit I always hear (Always hear it)

I got three bitches on me like the three musketeers

Loves the fact your so confident

I mean yeah the song is a little vulgar for you being such a bottom for him

Really curious how you look topping a girl

Wouldn’t mention it but just know he’s thinking it

Would ask how you came across the song in the first place since it’s not what he assumed you listened to while working out with him

You explain your hype playlist is a journey for another day

Overall though: much calm 9/10 because of the one impure thought but again you don’t know that

However next time you are away he’s so thinking about it while getting himself off

You probably look really hot going down on another girl

...okay now he’s questioning if you’d be okay with a threesome. It’s not cheating if everyone is cool right?

Right?

Dabi

Bitch, shake that ass or kick rocks (Kick rocks)

Fuck a situationship, I'm tryna see that box

Saw her on her Tinder, said she like long walks (Oh the beach)

Runnin' with my phone but bitch who got these locks?

Dumb ho, who bought this motherfuckin' phone?

Yeah, shorty love it 'cause I'm making her moan

Try to find another bitch, get hit in the dome

Yeah, I know I am a queen 'cause I'm sitting on the throne

Man he was smirking his cocky ass off.

You flipping your hair (wether it be long or short I flip my short hair all the time.)

Grinding all in his lap durning the sexual parts

Tapping his temple half way joking and half way threatening him for real about him finding another girl

Also referring to yourself as queen and his crotch as your throne

He just holds your hips and makes you grind again whispering dirty shit in your ear

Oh he took it the most seriously because he knows you’ve had past relationships

This one is just the best.

For sure ended with you “sitting on your throne” you know, just while moving your hips and bouncing

And the next time you go into your playlist you happen to notice that almost all of your songs are gone minus all the ppcocaine songs you have

Cheeky burnt man but two can play at that game

Sero

Hey, gang, NextYoungin

It's Daddy Kaine in this bitch (Ayy)

Pull up to the function and she tryna get lit

Shorty talkin' foreign, yeah, I'm thinking she a Brit

Never stay strapped 'cause my brothers with the shit

Keep talking money 'til they hit you with a lick (Baow)

All yo' shit fake but there's Gucci on my fit

She want bread for the head but no, I'm not a trick (Nah)

Okay you two were just smoking weed and you actually were on the verge of falling asleep

Until you heard this part about to play

You had sat up and starting getting all silly

You didn’t face him while doing it but he could tell you had your eyes closed since you were still a little sleepy

About half way though you had laid back down in his lap admiting you didn’t know the rest and giggling

You guys still finished smoking just he didn’t take it seriously at all since you were high and it was a song

Still wants to hear you do it while your sober just doesn’t take it seriously in the moment

He’s a good and trusting boyfriend and he knows you don’t mean anything behind it

Bakugou

Switchin' up the roles, charge a rack for the flick

Keeping dirty money but my hands still clean (Yup)

Bitch is high tech, yeah, I think she off the lean

Don't try to kiss me, ho, you need some Listerine

Drown in this money, all you see on me is green

I bought her a Perc' and I bought her a bean

Now she blowin' up my phone so I know that she a fiend

Got her in her feelings, tell her bestie that I'm mean

No, I never need no hoes, I just pass 'em to the team

He’s the king of passing hoes off to his team

Denki was always lonely so it worked for him

When it came to you he didn’t take you as someone who rapped at all or talked about passing hoes off

Just got all grumpy and held you from behind mumbling something about not passing him off

He knows good and well you couldn’t give him up your totally in love he just wants to make sure you know it’s not a choice

He asked why you even like the song if none of it applied to you for real and that earned him a nice bonk to the head

You don’t have to always relate if you just wanna vibe and rap

Mostly just curious how you got into such intense music he liked it deep down inside but no way he’s letting you know that.

Denki

Oh

You got bitches, Nya?

Hell yeah

How many?

Hmm.. three musketeers

Ha! (Da—, da—, damn, what you doing?)

Daddy Kaine and Cocaine

Yeah, Daddy Kaine and Cocaine, huh

He so learned from his mistake last time

Would you call it a mistake? He wouldn’t. But he still made sure to put his game down for you.

He was mostly listening to you the whole time to make sure you wouldn’t climb on top of him and demolish his high score

But since you stayed in your seat he relaxed a bit

He still put his arm around you after losing at his game and gave you a firm make out session making sure if you did have bitches he was the best

Wait no he’s not a bitch

But your not his he wouldn’t call you a bitch?

Let alone his bitch.

Poor baby worked his brain to hard and got totally distracted while kissing you

Zoned out until you bit his lip

He was fine afterwards just got a little Too caught up

Haha thank you guys for reading! Please send in requests anytime this was a lot of fun for me!

#my hero academia #bakugou x reader #bakugou katuski x reader #katuski x reader #mha x reader #dabi x reader #hakws x reader #hawks #dabi #bakusquad #bakugou katsuki #mina ashido #mina x reader #hanta sero #sero x reader #denki kaminari #denki x reader #kirishima eijirou #kirishima x reader #ppcocaine #3 musketiers #mha headcanons #my hero x reader #boko no hero academia #bnha x reader

[prince-of-elsinore]

More reasons to enjoy Season 12

Part 2 to this post

These are just my (mostly) not too serious thoughts on things I enjoyed about season 12 (which believe me, I do have criticism of, but not for this post) now that I have finished my re-watch of it.

- they unfridged the original fridged woman. bold move, good course correction

- Mick as a foil to Sam, Ketch as a foil to Dean. That's all. 

- it's goddamn refreshing to have Sam and Dean on the same page most of the time! Like in 12x15 Somewhere Between Heaven and Hell, Sam has been keeping the secret that he's working with the BMOL. But the secret only lasts one episode, and when Sam realizes he needs to come clean, Dean doesn't blow up at him. Sam being honest and Dean being accepting of Sam's decision: both evidence of growth! And in 15x20 The Future, they're on the same page about not wanting to let Cass go with Kelly. They both think he's been brainwashed (b/c that is definitely what it looks like). I just like seeing them agree on stuff, ok?

- Sam embracing his life and feeling comfortable with himself!! I see this season as a turning point, especially for Sam. I don't believe he's simply been brow-beaten into accepting a life he hates; I think he's consciously choosing to embrace the good of what he does and to take pride in it. His relationship with hunting will never be the same as Dean's, but, like I said: they're on the same page. As he tells Mary in 12x14 The Raid--"I chose this life." This is mostly due to choosing Dean, more than choosing hunting, but in any case, it is a conscious choice and Sam is making the one that is worth it to him, the choice that brings him fulfillment. And he even sees new worth in hunting itself, in a way that is very much in line with his character, as he expresses in 12x18 The Memory Remains (which I talk about more here).

- and that newfound confidence and comfort with who he is allows Sam to take a huge step in 12x22 Who We Are. I was so proud of him when he says "I called you here" instead of "We called you here." Sam has always had an independent streak, and he's stepping out from Dean's shadow in a healthy way here. He's allowing himself to be an individual agent. I always felt that in the end, he needed something of his own to be fulfilled, more than hunting with Dean--either a mentorship or leadership position (both of which he gets in the late seasons). This is his first step towards that, and he's so capable of it! He is a badass and he leads the hunters to victory over the BMOL on his own. 

- and Dean lets him!! This is a huge step for Dean too! Of course he's still worried about Sam (the "you come back" gets me every time), but he's not insisting on being there to protect him. He believes in Sam. He tells Sam he's ready for this, and when Sam hears it from Dean, he knows it's true. They need each other, but here we're seeing need of a healthier type--the way no one is an island, and we all need the love and support of our friends/family. They offer each other that, and it gives them the strength they need. I was so proud of Dean in that moment.

- ALSO so proud of Dean for, for once, acknowledging his own needs. Trying to save Mary is the right task for Dean--he'll never give up on family. But in the process, he speaks some truths that needed speaking. Admitting that he was set up to fail in raising Sam, that his whole life has been so unfair. Letting himself feel resentment towards the family whose hold is so tight on him. But, at the end of the day, still choosing love. "I hate you. And I love you. 'Cause I can't – I can't help it. You're my Mom. And I understand... 'cause I have made deals to save the ones I love more than once." Dean understands better than anyone that sometimes love causes harm, but it's still love and who can blame a person who acts out of love? And the thing is, love can also redeem. And here, Mary and Dean, both of whom have made some terrible choices in the name of love, find their way back to each other through love. Dean gives Mary the forgiveness he seeks for himself. This is Dean at his best.

- and even Sam gets in on the action. He, too, chooses love, and forgiveness. The family hug at the end of Who We Are is EVERYTHING.

- ok Who We Are isn't the only good episode so I'm gonna backtrack to talk about some others, like 12x11 Regarding Dean--it's funny! It's sad! Carrying on a great spn tradition of episodes like Mystery Spot and Yellow Fever. The sticky notes are wonderful. Sam knowing Dean well enough to leave them in the trunk of the Impala, with a big "NO" over the grenade launcher. Dean holding up "Witch Killing Bullets" without saying a word. Pointing his gun in confusion at Sam, who yells and points, "Brother! Witch!" :)

- 12x12 Stuck in the Middle (With You)—who doesn’t love a Tarantino tribute? (Having just watched Kill Bill, I can certainly say I love it). And the return of the Colt! Crowley's "It’s amazing what some people just leave laying about." Snark king.

- 12x13 Family Feud—I want to write a longer meta about the theme of family and love and sacrifice in this episode, so I won't go into it here. But another nice thing is how united the brothers are in their anger when Mary reveals she's been working with the BMOL. It's the closest we get to addressing Sam's torture and violation at the beginning of the season. I get the feeling Dean isn't so angry b/c of what Lady Bevell did to him, but b/c of what she did to Sam, which makes me think he knows it was bad, and Dean supported Sam in whatever he needed after that, whether it was talking about it or just giving some space, etc. Love some defensive big brother Dean.

- 12x14 The Raid—Actually a pretty tense action episode. And Mick is cool.

- 12x16 Ladies Drink Free—The Mick team-up is fun (I like changing up the dynamics), as is seeing them stay in a 3 star hotel lol. Dean has some good moments that highlight his growth, too. His "I used to think the same thing, too" to Mick, as if it weren't already obvious that he's taken "saving people" more to heart than "hunting things." He's done a lot of work to evolve beyond who he was with the Mark of Cain and even before. He also makes it perfectly clear what he thinks of guys skeeving on underage girls, and it's nice the writers finally emphasize that Dean does not like that behavior. He's past the point in his life where he'd make a joke about cheerleaders being legal (back in season 4. Quick digression: that's definitely a gross thing to say, but I always saw it as performative more than a declaration of intent. He puts on what he thinks macho guys would say. Not that Dean doesn't oggle what he likes, but one thing has always been very clear to me about Dean--he's a fan of enthusiastic consent. Anyway this should probably be a longer post b/c I could talk about Dean and performative masculinity and sexual attraction ad nauseam so I'll leave it there)

- 12x18 The Memory Remains—I've already gone over in my previous meta what this ep says about legacy, but there are other fun things about it. Like a Goat-headed monster! Man, how long has it been since the bros took on an urban legend like this? Like... any since freakin' Bloody Mary? Also Dean being cool with the kid smoking weed. You just know he likes to light up sometimes. Man, I need more weed-smoking Dean in my life

- 12x20 Twigs and Twine and Tasha Banes--this is a good fuckin ep. Finally, someone else on this goddamn show is allowed to be as codependent and unwise as Sam and Dean, and isn't punished for it. Let Max keep his wood-puppet sister! (Wow I KNOW it's really fucked up b/c I guess he can control her, too, but damn if it isn't fascinating. And sad. I hope they figure out some way to restore her autonomy) I stan two (2) codependent witch twins

- 12x21 Something About Mary--I'm a sucker for the silent communication and flawless telepathy as Sam and Dean find the bug and lay the trap for the BMOL. And that letter from Eileen :C (Even if her thing with Sam leaves me cold, I'm glad she got to come back to life b/c she sure didn't deserve to go like that)

- Ok one more thing about Who We Are--I'm a sucker for the angst of them thinking they're gonna die trapped in the bunker. And then Dean comes through with the grenade launcher, AND gets out the hole before it caves in. BAMF. I love that they saved themselves rather than some deus ex machina. No Supernatural interference necessary. Not even any deals with reapers, etc.

- I lied, one MORE thing about Who We Are--Sam doesn't take the bad deal Hess offers him (to help with Lucifer)! Once upon a time, I believe that Sam would have been so scared that he'd take the deal with the snake, masking his fear and foolishness as pragmatism. But he knows his own worth now. He knows he doesn't need the BMOL, terrified as he is.

- Finally, it was sad to say goodbye to Crowley in the finale, but it was a worthy end. You'll be missed, Fergus MacLeod.

#spn meta #spn season 12 #my meta #spn

[mundungs]

ϟ.  → robert sheehan : genderfluid : he/they/she : dealer of illicit objects and substances : the raven by the alan parsons project ϟ  did you see mundungus fletcher ? you know ,  31 year old halfblood who was formally in ravenclaw. some say dung can be quite furtive but are known to be unreliable. they are aligned with the order .  maybe that’s why they remind me of naming stray cats, flicking a lighter over and over again, falling asleep on the subway. ϟ 

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ciannán o’donnell is a flighty man, one of many relationships and flings and little loyalty, and so his affair with maeve fletcher does not last long. when she tells him she is pregnant, he moves on to a different woman, and maeve has her son alone, with her sister on her side. and thus, mundungus is born (and giving an arguably atrocious name).

he grows up with his mum – a halfblooded witch and by far his favourite person in the world – in limerick, attending muggle school there. he knew who his dad was, but wasn’t quite sure how to feel about — his father is a criminal, a prominent member of the irish mob. 

he meets his dad for the first time at age seven, and was nothing but impressed. his dad showered him with gifts, his mum watching with a furious look on her face but biting her tongue. that moment was a switch for mundungus; he felt the need to impress his dad. he stole some sweets from a store on his way home from school a week later, fished some pennies out of the pockets of his classmates a few months later. when he phoned his dad to tell him, his laugh was warm and filled with life. his relationship with his dad got better as his behaviour got worse. the thrill of stealing, of doing stuff he wasn’t supposed to, lit him not only on fire because it was exciting, but also because he knew his dad would adore it. 

but ciannan, a flighty man, pushes and pulls. and so mundungus was fed disappointment by his father, liking love off a shiny knife rather than a spoon ( silver or plastic, what the fuck does it matter ). details omitted, long story made short: his dad sucks and his mother tries, but mundungus is pulled towards that what smells of danger.

DRUGS MENT. at hogwarts, dung is sorted into ravenclaw. not at all the booksmart type, he falls more into the chaotic-creativity, random-bursts-of-wanting-to-learn-everything-about-something type of ravenclaw. there’s two worlds, then: the muggle world, where he slowly dips his water further in criminal waters, and the wizarding one, where he’s chaotic and messy but a student. when he grows older, these overlap: dung starts selling some of his dad’s weed at hogwarts, and soon gains a reputation of being able to get people less-than-legal shit. 

not getting high off your own supply is not a sentiment he agrees with. not then, not later, not now. dung is fun, always in for a party and willing to supply the goods to throw it. if some rich purebloods lose a few galleons at said party, well, it sure isn’t him! END OF TW

he graduates with two newts, in herbology and potions, failing his dada and charms exams. he’s not an academic.

falling into the family business after graduation is easy. mundungus is attracted by the criminal underworld, both that of muggle ireland and that of the wizarding world. knockturn alley was a place frequented in teenage years, but now becomes more his place. he makes connections, exchanges strange potion recipes for other things. makes an odd wager on a bunch of stolen brass scales and turns a profit. 

a career is not something that interests him; he is more interested in bending rules and making quick money. thievery, selling illegal shit, heists, fraud, fuck-all. mundungus is not limited by one descriptor, one kind of criminality. he just does what he wants and hopes to make a good penny.

but then he almost gets sent to azkaban over some, in his frank opinion, bullshit. it’s dumbledore who talks the wizengamot out of it, saddling dung up with some community service and persuading him towards the order. he’s twenty three. the war is still fresh. he has no interest in it, but he owes the old man. fine.

mundungus does vehemently oppose blood purity and any kind of discriminatory ideals, an anarchist in his very bones, but he is also cowardly. to side with self-proclaimed rebels is not in his blood and yet it’s where he ends up, bringing shady ties to the underworld to the table and a sheer ability to sneak around and fuck the law. and maybe, amidst the ranks of the order, dung finds something he’s not very familiar with: a large family. and dung? well, he’s the stoner, gay, super-fucking-chaotic cousin.

personality

if jesper fahey and kaz brekker had a child, it would be dung. 

other character parallels: fezco ( euphoria ), boris ( the goldfinch ), doug judy ( b99 ), jason mendoza ( the good place ), chris miles ( skins ),  nick miller ( new girl ), creed bratton ( the office ), scott lang ( marvel ), lillian ( unbreakable kimmy schmidt )

technically he’s homeless. he’s got a bedroom at his ma’s place, has a ton of squatter connects in the muggle scene and couch surfes aplenty, but dung doesn’t rent a place. why? landlords are evil. he could afford a place, just doesn’t see the point. life’s better with some adventure.

appears very neutral in public as it’s beneficial to his role in the order??? 

.... tortured artist. writes poetry and loves to draw and paint. 

tattooed the fuck up. some are his own designs.

can usually be spotted wearing The Coat, a rly expensive, vintage long coat that he once stole of a pureblood. he’s enlarged the pockets with some handy spellwork and pretty much carries everything he owes in there, like his produce and his money and his second pair of shoes and his art supplies and probably some random trash. 

loves animals. he loves stray cats especially <3 they are his kin. 

an anarchist. a bit of a punk. a deep idealist with a cowardly heart so constantly betraying himself (and sometimes others?)

queer! enby! genderfluid! i used he/him pronouns throughout this intro but dung truly doesn’t give a damn what u use. loves to dress up in feminine clothes. 

has a ton of aliases, lol, the most important one being marigold fincher. 

cusses too fuckin much to be healthy :/

oh no he is a big sad insecure kid deep inside :/ dont tell anyone how embarrassing!!!! shhhh!! it’s a secret.

quick connection ideas

victim. wow please. if your character is rich. let me steal from u. pick ur pockets. break into ur house. get some of ur stuff and drop it on the black market. 

customer. dung sells. whatever u need. drugs. weird magical things. ask and ye shall receive. his prices are whack but he does deliver <3

pal. party friends! order friends! random encounter friends! dung has a trashmouth and loves to talk pls let him chat u up and u will never be rid of him <3

couch. he couch surfs. a lot. if ur character trusts dung enough to let him into their home (which they shouldnt) then pls let him sleep over for a night. he will leave a strangely expensive necklace on ur kitchen table as a thank u. or wilted flowers. no in between.

skeptic. ur char is in the order and thinks dung is a liability and maybe they have a point. a point mundungus would rather not face :)

dmle bitches. dung hates anyone authoritative but esp the coppers at the ministry (hit wix & aurors) (yea he calls them coppers sorry he doesnt respect them enough to call them aurors <3). give me that doug judy/jake peralta dynamic. or just someone in the dmle who is like ... sigh this guy again??? 

fwb/one night stand/fling/etc. he’s a bit slutty <333 give him some ppl he’s hooked up with / will hook up with.

#muddywaters.intro #intro. #this one <3 this one has so much dumb energy in one body <3

[sinnamonfox]

~ Sean x Finn - A band AU~

There’s this somewhat lengthy AU I wrote in the beginning of May but wasn’t ready to post it. It’s more detailed NSFW than the rest of the snippets I’ve posted here and I guess I felt self-conscious about it, but.. it’s stupid? Soo fuck insecurities, here comes a dose of a smutty AU with the boys. Enjoy <3 

NSFW warning: blowjob, riding & use of recreational drugs

The Humboldt Crew has become a relatively famous alternative band among teens in Seattle's area in the last 6 years. The members are all teenage runaways, highschool drop-outs who met and connected through their same goal in life; making music (and getting high also helped in bonding). They play punk music with a hint of some softer vibes here and there. Cassidy's the lead singer, with the occasional acoustic guitar, Hannah, the eldest of them's behind the drums. Penny plays the bass while Finn, the youngest, shreds the electric guitar. 

Finn's 24, got his dreads in a ponytail with all sorts of beads in it, his left arm is covered in wristbands, has different kinds of metal rings, covering parts of his 'free piza' tattoo which isn't his only ink by any means. He's got the triangles, the vertical line on his chin, the few other lines and nonsense scattered all over his body which he got while being wasted or just because he could. He even has a full-sleeve on his left arm, it's a mix of 'cool, abstract shit' as he’d said it.

Finn's easy going, very sweet and chill with their fans, more often than not hooking up with some of them but he's got a steady fuck buddy thing going on with Hannah if neither of them get a date by the end of the night after a gig. Finn loves to fuck, just like his tattoo suggests, the post-concert adrenaline mixed with the marijuana making those strangers all the more appealing. Deep down he knows he’s missing something. The feel of belonging romantically to someone else and having a meaningful connection is something he wishes he had but doesn’t feel like he deserves it. 

Sean's a band geek, currently a senior in college at the age of 22. He's studying art, already making money out of it due to his luck, talent and having a best friend who majors in marketing. Lyla manages the advertisement, finds clients for him and is basically doing everything important accounting work for her childhood best friend, so naturally they share the income. It's a working deal between the two, helped them find a small but nice little apartment. They get graphic design commissions from small and medium-sized businesses to have their logo made, the style of their website, menus for restaurants and so on.

Sean's love life is dull, to put it bluntly. They go to college parties with Lyla and different concerts in the city so he's sort of trying to have fun, meeting new people along the way. He's bisexual and not a virgin in any sense. Had three girlfriends in the past and a boyfriend but none of them ended too well. Sean feels like he didn't find common ground with any of them, not in a classical romantic sense and not between the sheets either so they weren't long-lasting relationships. Sean was longing to finally find someone like that so Lyla, the Love Witch was on the lookout for him, 'advertising' not only his art but her best friend too whenever she had the chance, even though Sean asked her not to, multiple times.

Sean knows The Humboldt Crew's music, been a fan with Lyla since around the beginning. They get a commission from them to make different designs for their merch and their third album cover. Needless to say, he's excited to be working on that and as a friendly gesture, they even receive V.I.P. tickets to one of their shows. They get to rock out in the front row, singing along to the lyrics they both know so well with a plastic cup of beer in their hands and whoa, that guitarist is kinda hot?

Finn's a star, but one of those who don't even realize how good they are. Finn goes with the flow, he's confident and isn't afraid to be himself on stage, he enjoys the music immensely and it's showing in his behavour. He's jumping around with Penny and Cassidy, sharing grins and joyful looks, even takes off his tank top halfway through the concert to the crowd's amazement. Lyla notices Sean's interest and tells him how she's heard that he was pansexual so he's got a chance but Sean brushes it off, not believing that for a second.

She drags him backstage after the concert to meet the band. They're just as chill as they seem from afar, a very interesting crew with different personalities that somehow still found a way to work together. Sean can tell they're like a family from how they act around each other. The second Finn lays eyes on Sean from across the room, he just knows he needs to get to him so he walks up and introduces himself charmingly, flirting from the get go which instantly has Sean's cheeks go red because holy shit, this guy.

Finn picks up on it, knows he's got a chance and makes it his mission to seduce Sean because he's fucking smitten with the shy artist. Sean stammers, feeling like and idiot, especially since Finn's still half-naked with his sexy tattoos out in the open and are those nipple piercings? Lyla sees Sean's face and doesn’t need more, she scores them an invite to the band's house, where the private afterparty is held.

Of course, they get high. Finn chose to sit next to Sean, pressed to his side and is doing everything to mercilessly tease the younger to the point where he has to excuse himself and go out for some fresh air. It's not even that he's nervous, the weed and buzz from the alcohol has him in a good mood but Finn gets him so ridiculously turned on, like never before and he doesn't know what to do with it. The nonchalant touches on his thigh, his hot breath on his ear telling him he wants to see his skillful artist hands in action sometime, those pet names that make him melt and want to climb in his lap right there. This isn't like him, not at all. Sean never had a one night stand before but he was actually considering it because the guitarist is downright irresistible.

He smokes a cigarette out there in the dimly lit backyard, alone with his thoughts, at least for a while. Finn gets worried, thinking he came on too strong or he misunderstood the signs. Sean's startled out of his train of thought when Finn joins him on the wooden bench outside. He goes to apologize when Sean frowns and stops him. "No, no! Shit dude- I'm totally into it, it's just.." He lets out a frustrated sound, the words not coming to him as he gestures helplessly with his hands as if that'd help his case. "Never done something like this, I just met you and you're hot as hell, feeling me up and- Fuck, maybe I'll just shut up." Finn's easy laughter makes him smile too because somehow, it doesnt feel like he's laughing at him. 

"Damn sweetie, ever been told you're real cute when you get all blushy?" Finn teases which just makes it worse. Tells Sean he doesn't have to do anything he's not 100% sure about and he won't make him either. Finn’s starting to really like Sean. Interacting with him feels so real, no lies and pretending. The artist doesn’t treat him differently just because he’s semi-famous. Meanwhile, Sean's touched by his patience and thanks him for being so cool, also shuffles closer to the tattooed punk because he does want it, tells him so. 

"Then what are you afraid of?" The question breezes out of Finn’s mouth, the corners quirking up from finding Sean adorable.

"Nothing." Sean whispers back before closing the distance between them and it's one of those legendary, movie-like kisses that neither of them had before, with fireworks going off in the background. One that shakes you to the core and leaves you trembling, sucks the breath right out of your lungs. Sparks fly and it turns extremely heated with Sean swinging his leg over Finn's lap, Finn's calloused guitarist fingers travel up his tshirt at the back and pull the artist closer in desperation. Finn’s tongue tests the waters, asking permission into Sean’s mouth and he gains it almost immediately. After a few minutes of making out, they're both so stupidly hard, grinding mindlessly against each other while exchanging the sloppy kisses that fill up the night air with wet smacking sounds and occasional moans from the both of them. Finn's the one to initiate continuing it in his room, ready to back out if needed but as Sean's lustfilled eyes find his, telling him to lead the way, he’s sure about what comes next.

They sneak by the others and up the stairs but they're not even fully on the second level before Finn presses Sean against the wall and their lips collide in burning passion. Sean's making needy sounds and Finn's so drunk on it, pining his wrists to the wall and massaging their tongue’s together, taking charge of the situation. Sean absolutely loves it.

Somehow, the two men find themselves in the messy room with Sean on his back on a beat-up mattress. It's a miracle they managed to get that far. Not even five minutes later they're both fully naked and Finn's sucking off the younger eagerly, his mouth proving to be just as skillful working on his cock as it was spewing out filth, his fingers are opening up the tan male thoroughly. When Sean can't take it any longer, he pulls him up by his dreads and flips them over to Finn's surprise. 

After taking care of protection and applying lube, Sean sinks down on Finn's impressive length with a long, drawn-out moan that's rivaled by Finn's sounds of pleasure and his praises. His strong thighs flex as he begins bouncing. He’s clawing at the flat, pale stomach in ecstasy because this is perfect, Finn’s length is just perfect, hitting his sweet spots without needing to be guided. Sean wants to keep it down but when Finn starts fucking up right into his prostate, he loses all sense of control and let's go of his high-pitched moans. Finn takes the opportunity to take over again and pushes Sean on his back to pummel into him wildly, his dreads bouncing with his movements, both of them sweating. Sean can't think of anything else, he only feels the way Finn's sliding in and out of him, angling his hips with such expertise, it drives him crazy.

When Sean comes, it's with a scream of Finn's name that he paints his stomach, one hand jacking himself off, the fingers on the other digging into Finn's back, holding on for dear life. He clenches around Finn's dick which sends the other over the edge as well, spilling in the condom with a loud grunt and chanting of his partner's name. Sean's heart is thumping in his ears as he feels Finn breathe raggedly into his neck in the aftermath. He also has a lazy smile on his face when the older kisses him again. They're both sort of surprised at what just happened so no wonder they're grinning like idiots. Finn chuckles into the brief, sensual kiss before gently pulling out and taking care of the mess they've made with the help of Sean.

They're exhausted, it was a long night. Finn tells Sean he should stay if he wanted to, the arm he throws over Sean's sweaty torso is nice and despite their messiness, the artist burrows closer, welcoming the hug and agreeing to the plan. They fall asleep that way, wrapped up in each other, strangers who just met a few hours ago yet it’s already had such a huge impact on both of them. The next morning, Sean wakes up earlier and yesterday’s events come back to him, making him blush. He's hugging the musician's naked body from the back which just feels so natural, as if it wasn't the first time it happened and he's known him for longer than just one night. As Sean begins overthinking, it hits him; was this really a casual hook up? Are all of them so damn hard to walk away from? He feels somewhat stupid for having those feelings but.. this man beside him seems so full of love. The way he treated his crew, how he made sure Sean was feeling comfortable with the situation, his eyes going soft whenever Sean stuttered in embarrassment of right when he released.

When those piercing blue eyes take him in after waking up, Finn starts the morning with a groggy, „Good mornin’, beautiful.” Sean’s heart skips a beat and in the next second soft lips are on his again, movements so different to the night prior. More languid and sweet, as if Finn was bittersweetly memorizing the curve of Sean’s lips before he disappears, like he’s just used to people leaving him after they get what they want. Sean kisses back with the same intensity, no rushing in the slightest. They share a lazy smile, Sean’s face is flushed and connects their lips once again, letting Finn know he has no intentions leaving just yet. 

He’ll have time to thank Lyla later.

#Eilla's imagines #sean x finn #lis2 #sean diaz #finn mcnamara #sinn #fean #mcdiaz #band au #alternative universe #guitarist finn #artist sean #lyla park #smut #sinnamonfox

[grumpygreenwitch]

Summer Gardening.

So it’s been a while, and for that I apologize to the... 200+ people who follow me. I’m sure y’all are here for the cat pics and the nekked men, but TOO BAD. Today you get to suffer through pics of my green children. Also, I do share seed. My seed list link will be up later in the year. To begin with, the summer flowers are out en force:

Echinacea Purpurea, the original echinacea. I do save yearly seed from these guys, although it’s an incredibly pointy, stabby and bleed-y job. 

Mountain Phlox. Unfortunately, all of it around the house is afflicted with powdery mildew, so I will not share seed. But it’s still pretty to look at, and the clearwings (hummingbird moths) love it. Not pictured is the white variant, who grows on the other side of the house. Look, it was hot and I was already melting.

Peppermint Balsam. This thing is basically indestructible, for an annual. It will reseed freely (to truly Lovecraftian levels) and blooms continuously from late spring until mid-fall, when the seed-pods set. There is a dormant genetic in it for double flowers, but when it pops up it’s always been sterile. It just pops up occasionally from the peppermint seed.

I may give the roommate hell over the hostas (I hate them. They’re so useful to protect toads and control weeds, but I hate them), but they do put out pretty flowers. There are several variants around the house - white-edged, blue and green, but hostas in general are very, very hard to start from seed. I will save it on request, only. We were also incredibly lucky to have a Moth Mullein sprout in our porch bed, along with some Variegated Solomon’s Seal.The SS doesn’t put out seeds, and I don’t have enough to share bulbs (yet), but the mullein has been exceptionally generous with seed pods, and it repels bugs. It repels ROACHES. It’s going everywhere. And I may be convinced to part with some seed.

Onward!

A view from a hill. Can you see the garden? That’s OK, I can’t either. Those are peach trees, on the side of the orchard closest to the house. Unfortunately a freak storm during early spring killed all the blossoms. Also, don’t mistake ‘orchard’ for ‘organized’. There’s a pear, some apples, a plum, some nectarines? And front and center are two walnuts. I’ll probably be plunking my laurel there to see if it survives winter. And someday when I have a job and money again, I would like to drop a few Chicago Hardy figs, and maybe a kiwi trellis.

This is the big garden (and fortunately not my responsibility, or I would cry). The guys are ‘handling’ it. The weeds say otherwise.

The jasmine tree and the roommate’s garden. Because of a bad back injury that refuses to heal, I’ve been helping them on and off with it. And if you thought jasmine was supposed to stay a delightful little bush, AHAHAHAHAH. Yes, that’s a light-post next to it. For size comparison.

MY CHILDREN. Please ignore the dead soccer ball. That’d be a dog toy.

Lemon balm, amaranth, and a new bed that I’ll be finishing off during fall, for use next year. The lemon balm is a permanent row - it will overwinter just fine, and it will even keep growing through the mildest part of December. Mine didn’t die back until a few solid days of sleet in January. Unfortunately the weed fabric under the amaranth turned out to be an old roll, and fell apart on me (no big, the whole point is for it to fall apart eventually), so the weeds have kinda eaten it alive.

Unfortunately, both cucumber beetles and blister beetles love the amaranth. Fortunately, it does not seem to give a damn. It’s an incredibly resilient plant, not minding weeds, bugs, flood or drought. We’ll see what the grain actually tastes like, but so far it’s looking like a good candidate for continuous growing.

The lemon balm is lemon-balming. Planted on a lark, it’s proven to be a fantastic wind-breaker - because it grows so early and so quick, it keeps the colder winds that come down through the hollow from my more fragile seedlings, like the lettuce, dill and cilantro. You can see here where the spent flower-heads are dying but there’s new growth underneath; I really have to get in there and behead it. It makes nice hot tea, meh cold tea, and hanging fresh bunches of it around the balcony keeps the skeeters off. It also seems to be a decoy for cabbage moths.

Canary Zinnia. The seed was sent to me as a gift with one of my seed orders, and this is my first year growing it. -If- I can save some, I’ll definitely be sharing and growing again. It’s a lovely plant, very sturdy, and the bees love it.

Dwarf Castor Oil. I don’t think there’s anything dwarf about it, but then I’m a short green witch myself, so maybe it’s all about perspective. Don’t let the pods lie to you, until they dry the spikes are relatively soft. However, it being castor oil, I don’t recommend it to anyone with ducks, chickens, goats, or anything that might accidentally try talking a nibble or pecking at the beans. I do, however, recommend them from jewelry if you know how to pierce things and so on. They are a gorgeous tiger-stripe pattern.

Say hello to the chard! Say goodbye to the chard! Nothing else, absolutely nothing else since the limas, has given me so much trouble. The deer love getting into my chard bed and destroying it (ergo all the forks). And once I managed to chase those off, the blister beetles showed up in force. This will be the last year I grow it - we just don’t eat enough of it to make it worth my while, and it only occasionally sold at the Farmers’ Market.

Red lettuce - Merlot and Lollo Vino, a combination of bought and saved seed. I planted a red romaine of some sort, too, but unsurprisingly it bolted in the heat. The darker reds of my favorites, though, keep bugs off them, keep deer from noticing them, and keep them from bolting. It’s just now threatening to, and at this point its kind of allowed. I need more seed for next year. Seed for this will likely be shared by the teaspoon-ful.

Calendula! I searched for a long time to find the plain ol’ calendula officinalis ancestor, rather than a cultivar where I would have no way of knowing if the medicinal principles would have been sacrificed for looks. It’s supposed to work well as poor man’s saffron (color, no taste), and I’m going to be soaking the heck outta my feet on it during winter. The plant is... not pretty. It gets leggy and the leaves get grotty very quickly. But it’s very sturdy and as long as you cut the flowerheads off as fast as you can, it’ll keep blooming until well into winter. I usually leave it to go to seed around late September.

Green cilantro seeds. You pick ‘em when they’re brown, but before they drop off the plant. Or you pick ‘em when they’re brown-ing, and put them in a paper bag so they’ll finish ripening there and you don’t end up with fifty wild cilantro plants in your garden >_> Most of the row is already gone, and I’ll be putting in a late dill crop in its place. No such thing as too  much dill!

Don’t let lemongrass lie to you. Unless you tie it up, it will not grow up neat and tidy, as most grass does. Instead it will sprawl like a dramatic wilting Elizabethan lady and do its best to end up under your feet so you’ll feel bad about it. I just tie it up with a half-blade of grass; it dries up and withers away before it can hurt the plant.

I ordered pennyroyal seed because... Well, because it’s something one should have on hand, considering the way the world is going. What I got was Creeping Pennyroyal, which doesn’t care if you step on it (mint family), smells absolutely delightful, and has the most adorable, tiny purple flowers. I plan on harvesting, drying and sprinkling it everywhere in the crawlspace under the house. Making war on cave crickets, wood roaches, and other such sundries, me.

The thyme and Spicy Oregano took a beating in the heat, but they’re slowly bouncing back. The bed behind them is more pennyroyal, desperately in need of weeding, but there’s only one of me, y’know.

SIGH. Just. You absolute, ill-mannered monster of a creature. That would be horseradish, gloriously happy to be alive, as horseradish should be. Also, NOT IN ITS BASKET. Because never mind the rules, I guess.

I don’t even know how I’m gonna dig that up come winter. With some construction equipment, I GUESS. 

Decorative gourd! It’s the only one producing so far, but being the seed was 10+ years old, I’m very pleased.

And an apple gourd (I think?), from a mixture of drying gourds that was only slightly less ancient. Snake, apple and birdhouse gourds. There’s a bunch of them competing in the basket at this point, we’ll see what we will see.

And this, I think, is a great use of a dead canopy frame (the dogs ate the canopy. No, I’m not making it up.) I hope to coax the gourds to grow me a lil’ roof so I can sit in shade, surrounded by pennyroyal anti-skeeter barriers, eating my maters.

My Peter Peppers (nrehehehehe) aren’t producing yet - it takes them a while. But my Chinese 5-Color are getting started. It’s a lovely pepper, both edible and ornamental, with (so I’m told) about four times the heat of a Jalapeno. They’re tiny, with deep purple undertones to the plant. They’ll go purple-white-yellow-orange-red.

The bullhorns, on the other hand, are fairly sizable SWEET peppers on very tiny plants, and I honestly suggest staking them while they’re young so they grow a sturdy trunk, else you might end up with all of them growing at a slant.They’re just now beginning to turn colors. Keeping in mind I’m virulently allergic to peppers (less so sweet than hot, but allergic to all of them), the roommate loves ‘em.

It’s a small pepper bed - mainly to refresh my seed on the hots, and to grow sweets for the roommate. Pardon the nekked bed, the autumn lettuce hasn’t sprouted yet. And yes, that’s a mixed basil/dill bed next to it. My basil grew in patchy holes (NEVER buying from those seed people again), so I filled the holes with dill. Unfortunately, dill seed heads are so fine that they’re hard to photograph well.

The tomato row. After arguing with them for this long, I went the extra mile. Every plant has a metal stake. There’s also a double line growing at the top supporting the stakes so they don’t fall over. And they still fell over. Because why not, you unruly children, why not.

Green, white, pink and brown cherry tomatoes. Delicious!

Two kinds of cucumbers, some of the only decent shots of the dill seed-heads, and a special guest hiding in the shade. I usually plant dill as soon as the cucumber sprouts, to keep cucumber beetles off it. Otherwise I’d have no cucumbers and a lot of fat beetles.

The Muncher is a small cucumber, somewhat delicate. It’s very sensitive to temperature changes, and it’s candy to cucumber beetles - basically, it’s impossible to grow it without a heavy curtain of dill, or a heavy duty decoy. This year I got lucky enough to have both. It’s also delicious pickled, keeping its crunch and getting a good ooomph in flavor.

The Japanese Long is, as the name implies, long. It’s also incredibly bitey, and absolutely scrumptious. It’s sweet! And unlike the average cucumber, it does not go metallic when salted.

And now for the SPECIAL CHILD OF MY HEART. Seriously. I have been lusting after Blue Tea Peas since I first saw them offered, and every single time they’d be sold out pretty much the day of. This year I finally got some and... remember me mentioning that freak freeze that killed the peach blossoms? Yeah. Guess what it also killed. But two plants soldiered on. I have them heavily shielded by the cucumbers, dill and chamomile, and really I have no words for the blue. Pics don’t do it justice. I won’t have the tea this year, I’m saving as much seed as I can, but I am so pleased to have it at all!

 Last, but not least, and it’s a poor shot of it, the chamomile. I cannot drink chamomile to sleep - it does put me to sleep, but it also gives me bad dreams. I plan on using it as a skin wash for all the bug bites, along with the calendula, and to give me some respite from dry skin during winter.

Stay green! See you in fall! Now back to our normal schedule of frogs, cats and nekked men!

#garden #summer garden #gourd #tomatoes #calendula #hot peppers #sweet peppers #basil #dill #lettuce #red lettuce #chard #cilantro #horseradish #cucumber #amaranth #lemon balm #chamomile #blue tea pea #castor oil #zinnia #mountain phlox #echinacea #balsam #pennyroyal #thyme #oregano #lemongrass

[lwilson]

the boy we knew

The day we found out the tragic news was a beautiful autumn afternoon. I think it was a Saturday and the leaves were turning colors and gathering in mounds of reds, yellows, and greens at the base of the trees in front of the small houses on the block. I had just enlisted in the Army and I wanted to see my friend Ramone before I went off to basic training at Fort Sill in Oklahoma.

Alan, another close friend of Ramone and mine worked at an industrial laundry company called C.Q’s. over on East Grand Blvd and Palmer street. He detested the job, the pay, and the people, but with times being what they were, and jobs being few and far between during the Reagan era recession of the 1980s it was the only job that he could get so he took it, and fought tooth and nails to keep it.  I had worked at C.Q’s. as well, and speaking from personal experience I will tell you that there should have been a sign engraved over the entrance that read “All hope abandon, ye who enter here,” like at the gates of hell in Dante’s “Inferno”.  I lasted all of six weeks before hell got to be too hot for me to handle. So, I quit and joined the Army.

Alan, on the other hand, stayed and with good reason, his girlfriend Kacy was pregnant now which only exacerbated an already stressful situation. They were beyond broke and argued constantly about everything. I can’t remember how many break up to make up sessions they had, but it was a lot.

Kacy was a feisty streetwise girl with the misfortune of having two train wrecks for parents. The only thing keeping Kacy and her little brother Steven from being homeless and on the streets or worse was Kacy’s wit and her strong will.  Kacy was the type of girl that could smell bullshit coming a mile away. She’d smile her sweet slightly crooked smile at the bullshitter, usually some guy way to old to be hitting on a girl her age then she’d kick him in the nuts verbally and sometimes literally and down he’d go.  She and Alan were perfect for one another they were the embodiment of Detroit tough.  Her biological father was a real winner. I never knew his name or met him, but I heard from Alan that he was doing some serious time up in  Jackson penitentiary. Jasmine, her mother was a part-time recovering addict and a full time, well let’s just say the word I would like to call her rhymes with witch.

Kacy and Steven were little more than afterthoughts Jasmine. Jasmine’s major concern was when and where her next fix was coming from, raising a blossoming fifteen-year-old girl and a high strung twelve- year -old boy with criminal tendencies wasn’t high on Jasmine’s to-do list. Kacy and Steven were mostly left to fend for themselves. Kacy, I figured would be alright. She was tough and street smart, but Steven on the other hand was a different story. The first time I saw him strutting up and down the block like a little banty rooster with his nearly translucent white skin and unruly red curls bouncing about his shoulders as he made his way up Farnsworth Avenue, blustering and picking fights with anyone that crossed his path. I knew he was on borrowed time.

Steven was a twig of a boy with visions of grandeur. He was the outlaw son of the outlaw father he never met or knew. A little boy with a major Napolean complex walking around with a boulder on his shoulder daring anyone to knock it off, and many did knock it off and much worse. Undeterred, Steven had decided that being a so-called outlaw was in his blood and that was the way he was going to go.

I watched as Steven began to take up with the absolute worse elements in the neighborhood. Kacy had asked Alan to talk with him, then she asked me, but nothing worked, he was bound and determined to go the way of the wicked, a decision that would cost him his life. When he was 18 or 19 years old I don’t remember which. Steven’s brutally beaten and stabbed body was found in a burnt-out drug den near  Woodard Ave.

*****

Kacy’s mother’s boyfriend Bulldog was a small-time weed dealer who liked getting underaged girls high and drunk so that he could take advantage of them sexually. He had tried this move on Stacy a few times when Jasmine wasn’t around or either blackout in one of the upstairs bedrooms, but Kacy always managed to escape unscathed. It was only a matter of time she knew before he would take what he wanted from her the way he did with Tammy, a young Korean girl from up the block. When he did come for her, Kacy and her four-inch steak knife she slept with would be waiting. She told me and Alan that she would kill him before she let him have her. Kacy was right, Bulldog did come for her a few nights later and she had managed to fight him off but cutting him with her knife.  When Alan got the news he was furious and although she told him that she had the situation under control I knew that there was no way that Alan would let that kind of thing go.

Bulldog received an anonymous ass-kicking one wintery Michigan morning. Still high or drunk from partying the night before Bulldog staggered out on the icy porch and fell. His feet slipped and slid underneath him then shoot out from under him. The first thing that hit the porch was his fat girlish ass. His ass bounced off the ice, his feet flew into the air, he farted, then his head slammed into the ice-covered wooden porch.

“Motherfucker!” he whined. His voice sounded super high and tinny in the still earlier morning. He lay there for a moment breathing heavily and making a strange sound, a mixture of groans and whimpers.

“ Fat Fucks crying,” Alan whispered barely containing his laughter.

“You think,” I asked amazed and tilted my head toward the porch and sure enough he was crying. Bulldog always played the tough guy and now he was out here crying because he fell and bumped his head. What a fuckin cooze.  

“Damn,” I said shaking my head.

After a few minutes, Bulldog pulled himself together and tried to stand up. His feet slid back and forth beneath him and he fell again. His ungloved hand slapped down hard on the icy wooden rail. He yelped like a kicked dog and yanked his hand back and tumbled backward off the porch. He rolled down the four or five front steps and landed flat on his back in the walkway and once again the water work’s started up. Alan and I could believe it. We knew Bulldog was more bark than bite, but we couldn’t believe how soft he really was. This guy was a cream puff.  After a few seconds, Bulldog got to his feet and staggered toward his 1970 Chevrolet Monte Carlo, red with a white interior, a very nice car. As he reached for the door handle he looked up and got knocked out. We heard that Jasmine found him lying face down in the snow with a bloody nose, ears, and a broken hand twenty minutes later. A few days later Tammy’s family contacted the police about Tammy’s sexual assault, but by the time they got around to investigating it, Bulldog was gone. West Virginia, that’s where I heard he went, and surprise, surprise, he ended up in jail for statutory rape a few years later.

*****

           “What are you going to do,” I asked Alan after he told me about Kacy’s pregnancy. He looked sick.

           “ Got to marry her I guess,” he said staring down at the floor.

           “ You guess?”

           “Yeah, what else can I do. We ain’t having no fucking abortion.”

           “ I never suggested…”

           “ I know. I’m sorry. I’m so fucked right now.”

           “What about money,”

           “ I got the job over at C.Qs. Tony’s gonna have to give me a raise.”

           “Tony’s not going to give you a raise.”

           “Why not?”

           “Because he just gave you one a few weeks ago. Why don’t you join the Army with me,” I said? Alan shook his head.

           “Forget that, I ain’t going into no Army.”

           “ You’ll make more money in the Army then you will working at C.Qs.” Alan thought about it then shook his head again.

           “ Nah, we’ll be alright, we’ll manage,” he said.

“You still driving me to the airport?” I asked really wishing my friend would come with me.

           “Yeah, If you want me to.”

           “Okay,” I said. “I’m heading over to Ramone’s. I’d like to see him before I go.”

           “I’ll drive,” Alan said quickly and grabbed his car keys.

*****

Although it had been a few years since we had last seen him, I still considered Ramone a good friend and I wanted to see him before I went off to basic training. Ramone’s street was quiet as it always was when we were kids. Alan parked in front of Ramone’s house and killed the engine.

“I can’t believe he still lives here,” Alan said absently as he looked up and down the short block.

“His parents left him and his sister the house is what I heard,” I said as I looked around.

“Fuck that, I would sell, I wouldn’t want to live around here now.”

Alan and I got out of his Ford Talon and walked up the thin paved walkway up to the house. Everything about the place seemed smaller and shabbier. It was the same small house on E. Palmer that Ramone and his family had lived in when we all went to Ferry Elementary. Going there was like stepping back in time. Many of the same families and small business owners were still there. “Young’s Barbeque” on Mt. Elliot and East Grand Blvd, was still there at the time, “Thompson’s cleaners”, on McDougall and Ferry was still there, and my favorite penny candy store “Frank’s Beer &Wine”  on the corner of Ferry and Mt. Elliot, my old block was still there at the time.

That was years ago, they are all gone now, even Ferry Elementary is gone now.  Torn down by the city leaving a gigantic black hole where our childhood once stood.  An obscene black scar the size of an entire city block with scattered houses and overrun weed fields.

As Alan and I walked toward the small blockhouse my mind drifted back to when I first met Ramone in Mrs. Drum’s class when we were in the fourth grade. I wanted to be Ramone’s friend. It took a while, but slowly but surely he started opening up to me.  I remember sitting at our table waiting for the class to start. Alan for whatever reason wasn’t in school that day. Ramone and I sat quietly waiting then he turned to me and look me directly in the eyes. His voice was calm and splashed with a hint of contempt for me.

“ Do you like Alan better than me because he’s white,” he asked. My views on race and culture were still in the development stages so this question caught me completely off guard. As I sit here today writing this, I can almost hear his flat monotonic voice.

“ I don’t like Alan better than you,” I said quickly.

“You don’t,” he asked slightly surprised.

“No, why would I? I like you both the same,” I said.

“For real,” he smiled. It was a rare thing to see Ramone smile.

“Yeah, sure I do. Maybe I’ll ask my mom to see if she’ll let me have company this weekend.”

“Spend a night,” he asked excitedly.

“Yeah, you haven’t spent a night yet,” I said.

A cloud suddenly came over his dark features and his smile slowly faded.

“What’s wrong?” I asked. He looked down at the table and began to fidget with a piece of torn notebook paper.

“You going to invite Alan too,” he looked up and asked cautiously.

“I was going to, why?”

“ Oh,” he said and looked down at his torn piece of paper again, “Then I can’t come.”

“ Why not, should I not invite Alan, I thought you liked Alan?”

“I do. Alan and I are best buds,” he hesitated, “ It’s just that if my mom and dad knew that Alan is going to be there… I don’t think they’ll let me come over.” I looked at him confused for a moment then I remembered Alan telling me about how Ramone’s parents weren’t too keen on him having white friends.

“ My mom would talk to your mom and let her know that you’ll be safe.”

“I know,” he hesitated, “ It’s just that if Alan’s there they won’t let me come.”

“Why not,” I asked even though I already knew the answer. I needed to hear him say it. I don’t know why, but I did. So, he did say it.

“My mom and dad don’t want me playing or hanging around them.” He motioned with his head toward a table of white children.

“Oh,” I said, “why not?”

“They’re white,” he said matter-of-factly.

“Oh,” was all I could think to say.

“My dad says you can’t really trust them and that most of them look down on us black people. They think we’re all on the welfare, or on drugs, or crooks,” he said.

“No, they don’t.”

“My dad says they do.”

“I’ve been to Alan’s house…” I started to say before he interrupted me.

“Your mom and dad let you go over there?” He asked shocked.

“Yeah, and his mom and dad treated me real nice too. They never looked down on me. I even ate dinner over there once.”

“ I bet they think you’re poor now. They gave you charity, see,” he said raising his voice slightly.

“ My dad works at Ford Motor Company, that’s a good job. We’re not poor, my dad’s a boss or something.” I said.

           “ I know you’re not, but I bet they think you are.”

           “They don’t. They’re nice every time I go over there.”

           “ My dad says we shouldn’t do that. He says we should stick to our own kind.”

           “ You want to spend the night or not?”

           “Alan going to be there?”

           “Yeah,” I said. “Just don’t tell your mom and dad.”

           He looked at me as if I had just suggested that we rob a bank.

           “You mean lie?”

           “No, just if they don’t ask you about Alan don’t tell them.” Ramone smiled again and nodded. Ramone was never allowed to spend the night. His parents just wouldn’t let him do it.

On the day of our visit to Ramone’s house, Alan’s family and my family had moved out of the neighborhood and had been out for years by this point. My family moved out right after I graduated from Ferry in 1979. We moved to a quiet middle-class neighborhood about ten miles from where we lived on Mt Elliot Street. The neighborhood was strikingly different than the one we had left. These were tree-lined streets with manicured yards. Our neighbor Mr. Traminski literally had a white picket fence around his yard. It looked like something out of a Norman Rockwell painting. When my family moved in the neighborhood was predominantly white with a few black, Asian, and Arab families sprinkled in for good measure.  By the late 80s rolled around almost all the white families had moved out. White flight is what they called it, I guess. Mr. Traminski was one of the first to go. I guess we liked him more than he liked us.

Alan’s family moved out of the old neighborhood around 1983. In this period, Alan and I had become as close as two friends could be, while Ramone whose family never left the old neighborhood began to drift from our orbit. We tried to keep in touch with him but were unable to regularly. All and all, Alan and I had been away from the old neighborhood off and on for almost nine years and at that time, we might have seen Ramone five or six times. The times we did see him he didn’t seem quite right. He seemed tight, and a  little off-kilter.

By 1985 Alan and I were high school graduates with our whole lives laid out in front of us. I looked as if I was about to embark on a promising college football career, Ramone had been accepted into several really good universities, and Alan had gotten a job at a paper manufacturing plant.  

*****

“This neighborhood has gone to shit,” I said as I scanned my surroundings. I looked out toward the empty lot where Ferry Elementary once stood. The last time Alan and I had been in the neighborhood Ferry Elementary was still standing It had been closed and torn down for years by the next time Alan and I rolled around.  

“To shit and then some,” Alan said. I looked up at the cool cloudless sky. A tiny barely visible plane flew by overhead. A reflective dot high above it all creeping across the cobalt sky dipping in and out of sight. I tilted my head back and closed my eyes. I could almost feel the earth rotating, even though I knew that it wasn’t possible, still, it made me feel dizzy. I took a half a step back to avoid staggering, then opened my eyes.

“I bet Ramone’s heading off to Yale or Princeton or some other ivory league school partly because of his grades and partly because he’s black. Affirmative action,” Alan said out of the blue. I slowly turned to him not believing what I was hearing.

“What,” I said my anger was bubbling just below the surface.

“ I bet I couldn’t get in,” he said sharply.

“Yeah, because you don’t have the grades.”

“ I’m just saying,” he shrugged.

The front door swung open and Serina stepped out onto the porch. Serina’s, Ramone’s little sister. She had smooth chocolate skin and wide brown eyes, she looked like a black Barbie doll. She stared at us with a blank expression. She didn’t recognize us. Before that day I remembered Serina as a slightly chubby happy-go-lucky little girl running and playing with her friends on the playground with her protective older brother Ramone always keeping one eye out for her and the other eye out for us. The chubby little girl that used to be too shy to look at me was gone and had been replaced with this beautiful stern woman standing before us in the partially opened screen door.

“Can I help you,” She asked while subtly looking us over.

“Serina,” I said cautiously.

“Yes,” she said without looking at me. Her eyes were fixed on Alan.

“I’m Luke and this is Alan,” I said, “We’re friends of Ramone. Is he here?” She turned to me, her jaw tightened and her eyebrows came together in a tight knot.

“What,” she said, the words came out in a breathy whisper. Her expression softened.

“ Is he home?” I asked. Serina looked at me for a long moment then she turned and looked at Alan. I could see the light bulb coming on. She slowly raised a finger and pointed it at me.

“ Your Luke?” She asked. I nodded and motioned toward Alan.

“ And that’s Alan, do you remember us?” She nodded and stepped out onto the porch closing the screen door behind her.

“Where have you guys been?” she asked in a thin wavey voice.  Alan and I looked at one another confused.

“Excuse me,” Alan asked.

“Ramone is dead,” she said in a voice that suggested that she was still struggling with the realization of what had happened. The news was devastating.

“What, when,” Alan and I asked in unison.

“He walked into traffic,” she said in a voice strangled with emotion. “ a truck hit and killed.”

“Where did it happen,” I asked.

“He was on Mt Elliot when it happened.”

“How could this have happened?” I thought. “We were all good friends, weren’t we? How could it be that this was the first we were hearing of this?” I looked at Alan he was standing with his jaw gapped and unhinged looking glossy-eyed and confused. Alan and I stood there on her front porch like mute idiots as Serina dropped the bombshell on us. My brain went foggy and felt warped and wobbled and I jerked my head to the left to shake off the cobwebs. I couldn’t believe it.

“Suicide,” Alan muttered in a low husky voice. I was trying to think of something to say, but my mind was blank.

“I’m sorry,” Serina said. “I thought you guys knew,” she paused, “I thought everyone knew by now.”

“By now,” Alan asked, “How long has he been gone?”

“Three years,” She said matter-of-factly, “ I thought all his true friends knew,” she said bitterly as she glared at us.

“No,” I said shaking my head. She cocked her head to the right and looked at me with her big doll-like brown eyes. She had the kind of eyes that made grown men stutter if she looked directly at you and she was looking directly into the eyes. My mind went blank. Serina was studying me with those eyes, looking for signs of a lie. I understood what she was doing so I held her gaze until she looked away. Ramone had killed himself on my old street. He didn’t kill himself on my block thank god. He did the deed a few blocks up near East Grand Blvd. I don’t think that I had ever known anyone that had committed suicide before or since.

As sad as Ramone’s suicide was I’m sure he was now in a better place. Ramone was a melancholy boy from the moment I met him back in 1976 up until the last time I saw him which must have been some time in the mid-eighties. He just seemed too delicate of a human being to survive in this harsh and hateful world.

#suicide #depression #friends #friendship