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skrunksthatwunk · 10 months

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so a thing that my brain does on the reg is it makes me get nervous about a scenario (ranging from probably-won't-happen to Definitely-Won't-Happen) and then i have to spend like 40 minutes meandering my way through an improv youtube apology video until my brain feels like I've addressed the scenario about as well as i can and lets me move on. usually this comes in the form of like

you accidentally said a forbidden slur (i.e. one i can't reclaim) while streaming/in a group conversation and now have to explain that your brain misfired catastrophically hard and that you've never said this word before (true) And You Have To Do It Well Enough To Be Believed

because like. i wouldn't believe that guy either, y'know? most people in that situation just cross that bridge when they get to it and do pretty bad, so maybe my brain is trying to help prepare me via interrogation. my point is that i spend a lotta my spare time pacing in my bathroom fending off theoretical murder charges (which are either phony OR true OR a secret third thing depending on the day).

as soon as i woke up this morning my brain gave me a new one:

what if people accuse you of faking your (middling) knowledge of french? and also you're a celebrity and have to prove it by speaking french live on a talk show or something.

which like. good morning to you too, brain. the first thing i did was (slowly, mediocrely) construct an appropriately indignant sentence in my head (i haven't used french since my ap exam like a month ago) and then

BUT WHAT IF PEOPLE THINK SOMEONE FED ME THE LINE

ok we'll have the audience write in questions live

WHAT IF THEY STILL THINK IT'S RIGGED AND ALSO WHAT IF I DON'T KNOW WHAT THEY'RE ASKING ((<- LIKELY AND UNCHARACTERISTICALLY ROOTED IN LIVED EXPERIENCE!!!)) WHICH WOULD PROBABLY MAKE IT WORSE

girl that's The Most i can do what do you want from me.

and then once i woke up more i had a realization in that blasted out, quiet way—like an astronaut drifting away from their ship untethered, forever. that

the prognosis of taking american public high school language courses is to remember jack shit (pardon my french). it's a classic babe it's near universal. we all know we don't know.

Babygirl, (And I Cannot Express This Enough,) No One Is Ever Going To Make You Speak French Live In ~5-40 Years To Prove You Took It In High School. Go Back To Sleep. there's only like two scenarios you can think of ever where that happens and there's like a 70+% chance you can just say no or ignore it. what a weird thing to fake in the first place too who would even accuse you of that.

anyway sometimes being a citizen of Braintown is funny and not exhausting in a kind of sad clown way but it's usually just kind of awful. something something c'est la vie

#held captive to the world's saddest strangest most confused lump of meat sitting in juice getting zapped with electricity ever #i cant tell if it's hard mode scripting or if i just fully have compulsions about this in ways im only realizing now #sorry if the formatting is a bit much this used to be a big wall of text and i thought yhis would make it more digestible #anyway i have Tendencies and Thoughts i should get Evaluated For because what the shit IS that #the sentence was smth like 'je deteste le tache donnez-moi hier soir' which like. shoulda been ce soir dumbass god get it together #(<- actually just glad i haven't forgotten it. also idk if the donnez-moi is right. every time i use hyphenated verb-pronoun stuff im #flying by the seat of my pants. also i think the 'je deteste' was different but idr how so there's what i prolly woulda done instead)#FUCK IT'S LA TACHE??? GOD THEY'RE NEVER GONNA BELIEVE ME #making a new tag for these:#skrunk story hour #in case you want more of my stunning 2 notes talespinning #me: oh if i have ocd it's pure. also me: (see above)#idk idk. fully not sure tbh. but the fact that they tend to align with the intrusive thought subject matter (moral concerns) doesn't seem #coincidental to me.#but then again the fear of doing wrong vs the fear of being accused/misconstrued (often justifiably) are separate (albeit fused for me)#anyway tell me you had to go lawyer mode with your parents to justify feeling/wanting anything without telling me that. yes im blaming them #it all comes back baby. you can't buy fear of confrontation this bad in stores you have to grow it yourself #oh also im not going back and tagging old story times unless i happen to see ppl interacting them and remember bc i usually didnt tag them #and it would be a nightmare to dig through like 8 months of blog for it. sorry 🫶#i know im sorry. no one likes those posts better than me so i for sure know and am sorry #rare skrunk intrusive thoughts L where i can just look at it and go girl no. not only no but absolutely not. but only after i do the #homework it gives me about it. hell on earth #etc etc. moving on now

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astrophysicist-guitar-god · 2 months

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Behind the scenes pictures of Queen on iconic I Want to Break Free music video gives extraordinary glimpse into closeness of the band

The fascinating pictures show the band fooling around on the video shoot

By DAN SALES

Published: 03:42 EST, 24 September 2023 | Updated: 04:20 EST, 24 September 2023 (x)

Never-before-seen pictures of Queen making the trailblazing I Want To Break free music video shows the incredible bond between the band members. Candid images - all shot by veteran photographer Simon Fowler - show the sheer joy and fun of the group during the now-legendary filming of the promo. The video stunned music fans when it came out and had the rockers dressed up as housewives in a suburban home. In one of the newly-revealed pictures the band are shown in hysterics, with one crewmember wiping away tears of laughter as Freddie Mercury fools around behind a bewigged John Deacon. Freddie appears to be pretending to be a hairdresser as John chuckles in his seat, as Brian May beams by a back wall as they stare into the mirror at their new look. Later Brian can be seen clutching his curlers as he gazes into the distance as he is captured on film. Roger Taylor also looks to be having a ball in one of the archive pictures, pouting in his schoolgirl-style costume. Photographer Simon, who took pictures of the group throughout their career, opened up his archives to allow MailOnline to publish some of the incredible shots.

The band are seen having a great laugh backstage as they get ready to shoot the video promo

Roger Taylor in costume pouts as his picture is taken on the set of I Want To Break Free in 1984

He said he had no idea the theme of the video before he had turned up at Limehouse Studios in London to take the pictures. Simon recalled: 'On Break Free I didn't get any idea of what it was going to be. I turned up and saw them and thought "Whoa, what is going on?". 'It was obviously a pastiche of Coronation Street. I remember on the day everybody was just fooling around laughing. 'It was so much fun that I was amazed that they actually got a video done. 'They had no concerns about doing anything that was unusual - they would just do it. 'They were just messing around in between the filming. I remember one funny moment when they were trying the stuff on and asking each other "what do you reckon of this wig?". 'That was the great thing about it, you have got Freddie with his big old 'tache, giving it all. 'It was without doubt the most fun shoot I have done. 'Every time I think about it I smile, the day just went so fast because everyone was having such a good time - it just whizzed by.

Simon revealed that the band preferred to be photographed all together for their promo shots

Brian May looks like he has awoken from a deep sleep with the curlers in this of Simon's shots

'When you get there I didn't know the story and the PR told me and I thought "that sounds great". 'I went backstage and the first thing I saw was them getting all their clobber done.' Simon had photographed the band before after getting a phone call during the recording of their Hot Space album. That record spawned the Under Pressure anthem and at first the photographer admits he had no idea who he would be going to shoot. He recalled: 'I got a call out of the blue to do a job and originally thought they had said Cream at the time, which I thought couldn't have been right. 'Back in those days you would get millions of calls. I only realised later it was Queen and I was told I would only get ten minutes with them and it turned into three hours. It was for the album Hot Space. 'I think we just got on pretty well - I wasn't expecting much time at all and it was brilliant. 'Roger actually got me to do a bit of tapping when they were recording. I like to think I'm on Hot Space somewhere. It just went from there really.' The band loved his work so he was invited back and ended up doing numerous shoots with them.

John Deacon - whose character in the video was miserable - laughs in a moment of down time

Freddie Mercury poses up on the set, leaning on a cabinet as he looks to the side of the room

But he counts his work on I Want to Break Free as one of the most exciting jobs of his career. He admitted: 'I knew when I got called in for it, that it was going to be interesting. 'They wouldn't scrimp on stuff with the videos, they were big productions. If CGI was around then I am sure that would be what they were doing. 'When you were on set you would have to have eyes in the back of your head in some of the bigger productions, where there were cranes and stuff going round. 'When we went for lunch Brian was on the catering bus talking to me. He was still in the outfit with the curlers. 'I remember thinking "that's Brian May opposite me". It was so surreal. 'At the end of the day we saw the cut and it just looked great. 'I remember John taking a nap during the day, which he would have needed because the reality is they would have got there very early. 'They were trailblazers with videos, they really were. Queen were so unique in whatever they did. Brian with the sound and the guitar. I loved every minute of it

Veteran music photographer Simon Fowler is selling prints in aid of the Mercury Phoenix Trust

'Freddie was a trooper right up until the end. One of the things people don't notice about pictures of Queen is that you could never often get them out of the line-up 'They would not often move out of all four of them together for pictures. 'I think that's because they were a band but they were also incredible close friends too. 'They all had each others backs, none of them thought of themselves as the star - they were all equals.' The behind-the-scenes pictures were brought back into the spotlight as Simon as he compiled Fine Art Prints of Freddie, Brian, Roger and John from The Miracle shoot. They are being sold to help the fight against HIV and AIDS, with 50 per cent of proceeds going to the Mercury Phoenix Trust. Simon added: 'I was thrilled to do this and just give something back and help a really great cause. 'I was delighted by the response and hope it can keep helping people.' (x)

Prints of Freddie, Brian, Roger and John from The Miracle shoot can be found here

#Brian May #my guitar god love #before anyone gets too excited .. this is from 2023 #found this while I was *hoping* to find the unreleased pics mentioned the other day #GOOD ARTICLE!#Roger Taylor #John Deacon #Freddie Mercury #Queen #Queen: Academia #once again I am wishing for a time machine

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13as07 · 3 months

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I’m Not Clingy

(Itachi Uchahi)

[Art work is not mine! Credit to Nikolaz Saavedra]

Requested by: the-fictional-wife (kind of)

Word Count: 3,466

Warnings and/or Pre-Notes:

First, still fully believe Uchahi's go through withdraws when away from their loved ones. Second, Itachi is an unemotional hardass 90% of his life, so I fully believe he's a clingy soft boy with his loved one.

———————————————————————

"Crow?" The name rings out, half registering in my still-asleep brain.

"I'm in the bathroom, Tach," I murmur, struggling to not fall back to sleep.

"Little crow?" He calls again, his voice laced with worry.

"Still in the bathroom, Itachi," I call again, my words getting muffled when I turn the sink on.

"My little crow?" He tries again, full panic in swing. I sigh to myself, deciding to leave it be. He can survive the sixty seconds it'll take me to wash my hands.

The bathroom door slams open, banging against the wall. Maybe he can't survive it. "Crow," Itachi almost sobs, panic washing out his already pale face.

"Hello," I mutter, wiping the water off myself on the hand towel. Hands wrap around me, clinging to my nightshirt. "Hi baby," I coo, sliding my hands across his bare back.

Itachi's head buries into my neck, fingers still gripping my clothes. "You disappeared," he whines despite his effort to maintain his 'bad boy with no emotions' persona. His attempt at the normal monotoned voice he uses quickly cracks with the two words.

"I went to the bathroom, Love," I explain, lightly running my nails over his shoulders.

"I woke up and you weren't in bed. Why did you disappear?"

"Tachi, I had to pee."

"You should have woken me up." His hands loosen a bit, sliding down my shirt to cling to the hem of it.

"I should have woken you up to tell you I need to pee?" I ask, shrugging my shoulder in an attempt to look at him. He has to be joking.

Itachi lifts his head, the glow of his sharingans empathizing his panic. "Yes," he answers, his face fully serious as he looks at me.

"Why would I do that?" I sigh, dropping my head to his chest. I can't even pretend I have the patience for him right now, I'm too tired.

"So I can come with you."

"To the bathroom?"

"Yes."

I let out a deep sigh, choosing not to push the subject anymore. "Alright, Tachi."

His hands loosen again, going back to their normal lightness as he paws at my thighs. "Lay down with me."

"That's the plan."

His hands continue touching me as I slide past him, working my way back to our bed. The small walk is filled with soft gropes. Itachi's hands clinging to my arm, then my waist, then clinging to my shirt again.

After prying him off of me, I crawl across our bed, sliding under the sheets and getting comfortable. Itachi paces next to the mattress the whole time, impatiently waiting for me to get settled. Once I stop moving, he quickly crawls in after me.

I'm pawed at again, eager hands parting my thighs before he slides between them. Itachi's head rests on my stomach, arms wrapped around my leg. "What in the world are you doing?"

"Making sure you can't get up without me again."

"You're clingy, Love."

"I'm not clingy."

———————————

"Where are you going?" Itachi whines into my hair, hands tightening around my waist as I try walking down the street.

"Tachi, you're making it difficult to shop."

"No I'm not," he huffs, but does let go of me, not completely though. He keeps a hold of the end of my cloak, his eyes burning into his clan symbol stamped into the back of it.

I roll my eyes at the clingy Uchahi, turning my attention back to my mental checklist.

Oil for Deidara's clay - check.

Pork for dinner - check.

Lined paper for Kakuzu's finances - check.

Matches for Hidan's dumb rituals - check.

Bread for breakfast tomorrow - check.

Fresh fish instead of pork for Kisme - check.

Hair pins for Konan - check.

Cloth for Sasori's puppets - not check.

I stop in my tracks, an eager Itachi using it as a chance to wrap me in his arms again. I glance up the way, scanning the market for another craft table.

How could I forget Sasori's fabric when I grabbed Deidara's oil? Why must I do the shopping? They're a group of murderers, can't they just steal what they need? Of course not because they're all dumb and don't ever remember what they need unless I ask. Oh gosh, I forgot sea salt for Pain's piercings too.

"Pay attention to me," Itachi huffs, head buried in my neck as his fingers knead at my stomach.

I let out a soft sigh, shifting in Itachi's hold. "Hello, Love," I coo, cupping his face in my hands. His eyes light up, one of his rare smiles crossing his face. "I appreciate you coming with me today," I praise, planting a handful of kisses on his nose.

"Really, Little Crow?" He whispers, eyes sinking closed and face relaxing from my soft kisses.

"Really," I answer, pecking his lips before turning away again. A disappointed huff spills from him, hand clinging to the pocket of my cloak as he trails behind me.

Itachi bumps into me as we walk, glancing at me every time he does so. He might look like a black cat but he acts like a golden retriever. Definitely a 'don't judge a book by its cover' situation.

My eyes land on a booth covered in yards of fabric. Maybe the universe doesn't hate me that much.

I work my way through the crowd of people, Itachi huffy and puffy when someone cuts off his sight of me. "Stop running away," he groans, arms around my hips and tugging me against him.

"I'm not running away. Sasori needs fabric," I explain, squirming out of his hold. He stays huffy but releases me. Even though I'm not being touched, Itachi is still very much present. He paces around me, watching as I toy with the fabrics, checking their patterns and the feel of the material. "Excuse me?" I call, looking for the booth owner.

"Yes, Dear?" A small older woman calls, pulling back one of the fabric strands.

"I need two yards of fabric. Do you sell them in half or full yards?"

"Quarter, half, full, you name it, Dear."

Itachi distracts himself as I talk to the saleswoman, his focus being on the fabric. "Crow?" He calls, lifting one of the yards so I can look it over. It's pretty, a rich blue coated in gold stars and swirls, reminding me of the night sky.

"Can I have a yard of that pattern too?" I ask the lady, motioning towards my clingy black cat. Why Itachi wants it is beyond me but it's safe to assume he wants me to sew something new for him. What a needy little Uchahi.

"Of course, Dear. Give me a couple of minutes to cut and wrap it all for you."

"Thank you!" I chirp, quickly counting out the needed amount from the stash of cash Sasori handed me. I dip into my wallet, adding the amount for Itachi's fabric before handing it to the lady. "I'm going to pop over to a different booth if you don't mind."

"That's fine dear. I'll see you soon."

I thank the lady again before walking towards the next booth in search of sea salt. Why can't Pain just clean his piercings with normal water? Another apology from the universe, just one booth over is a mineral table, covered in different-sized and colored natural resources.

"Hello," I call, walking up to the booth. I glance around it in search of Pain's dumb salt. "I'm looking for some sea salt."

"Any specific reason?" The guy manning the booth asks.

"Um... I think my friend - " that's not the right description "- dissolves it in water. He uses it to clean his piercings."

"How often does he use it?"

"Once a day I think. I have the tube from his last one," I explain, digging in my messenger bag for the container. When I find it I hand it to the man, letting him read it over. "Preferably, I would like enough to last at least - "

"Crow?" Itachi's panicked voice calls out. I turn back towards the fabric booth, a smile crossing my face as he waddles around it, shifting strands of fabric in search of me.

"That your friend?" The man asks, laughing a bit as we both watch Itachi search for me.

"That's my partner. He's a little... attached."

"Little Crow?" He says, head bobbing around as he looks through the waves of people for me.

"Anyway, I only come to town once a week or so. A week's worth would be the minimum but a month's worth would be best."

The guy nods his head, messing around with some of the minerals on his table. "Well I have a six oz tube that'll last about five months or you can get the twelve oz bottle. That should last ten months."

"What's the price difference?"

"Crow?" Itachi calls again, panic quickly soaking into his words.

"I'm over here, Love," I coo, shifting around to try and fall into his attention.

When I'm latched into his sight, the glow of his sharingans dull from the sun and concealment of his hat, Itachi quickly scurries over to me. Fingers cling to the back of my neck, forehead pressed to my shoulder when he comes into context with me. "You ran away," he whispers into my skin.

"I didn't run away. I was only - what? - ten paces away from you?" The booth manager chuckles again, smiling ear to ear at my separation anxiety-riddled black cat. "You're just clingy, Love."

"I'm not clingy."

———————————

It's been a long week... almost two weeks since Itachi left for an away mission. He left ten days ago for some intel collection, ordered by Pain. Whether it's actually an intel mission or not is beyond me. I prefer not knowing what he does when he's away and he prefers not talking to me about it.

Despite the time apart, Pain said Itachi and Kisame would be home today. Again, whether that's true or not is beyond me. Either way, I won't mind. I miss my clinger but I think the time apart helps me keep my patience with him.

I stay busy when the boys of my focus are away. Groceries still need to be bought, food still needs to be cooked, chores still need to be done, and members still need medical attention. I like my life as a makeshift stay-at-home mom. It's like permitting playing housewife.

Besides, when all the needs are met, it leaves me free time to enjoy my hobbies. Plus the salary Pain sets aside for me is pretty nice, even if Kakuzu bitches that I shouldn't be paid for my efforts. The old man is... well... old-fashioned. He believes it's a woman's job to tend to the household and the members of said household.

"Where are you?" The old man calls, poking his head out the kitchen doors. "Your dumb shark boy and even dumber raven is home."

"Itachi's birds are crows, not ravens," I correct, turning my attention to the ninety-year-old.

"What's the difference?" He grumbles, face as pissy as ever.

"Crows have straighter beaks than ravens. They also have smoother feathers, shorter wingspans, and softer coos."

"Smartass," the money-obsessed man mumbles before leaving me alone on the porch again.

I let my attention turn back to the project at hand. "Smartass," I mimick, talking to one of Itachi's crows. He has about ten of them, I think. Maybe more. Sometimes it's hard to tell them apart or to tell which ones are real.

The only ones I can tell apart are his favorite one - Akako - who somehow has a sharingan and this one that I've named Kiko. Kiko has a small bell tied around his neck with a ribbon, Itachi's way of making it easy for me to find his bird. My bird. Kiko spends a lot of time with me, keeping me company when his master is away and delivering our letters back and forth.

Kiko hops around in agreement with me, flapping his wings a bit before settling down again. "I know, right?" I huff, rolling my eyes at the old fashion-man. "He's just mad I'm smarter." Again, the bird jumps around and flaps his wings.

"My little crow, was I really away long enough for you to lose your sanity?" Itachi says, his usual monotoned voice in place instead of the needy whiney one he uses around me.

"No, Kiko and I have conversations every day," I answer, smiling at the exhausted-looking man in the doorway. "He's better to talk to than most of the Akatsuki members."

"Well, I am home. You can talk to me now."

"I think I prefer talking to the bird," I tease, once again abandoning my project.

"You don't mean that," he says, words shifting to a whimper by the end.

Itachi is quickly at my side, sunk to his knees on the porch. His arms wrap around my legs, head prompted in my lap as he rests against me. "No, I don't mean it," I soothe, fingers running through his hair and softly massaging the roots of it.

Heat rolls off of him, coating me, threatening to cause blisters even though I'm not the one with a fever. The sweat-coating Itachi makes his skin sticky, suctioning him to me without trying. "Are you sick-sick or longing-sick?" I ask, tugging his headband off. I busy my hands, smoothing his hair out and holding it in a bun before peppering kisses across his forehead. His sweat leaves a salting taste on my lips.

"Longing-sick," he mutters, fingers shaking as they cling behind my knees.

"Do you want to go lay down? We can take a nap if you'd like." Itachi hums a yes, trying to bury himself deeper into me. I swear the man would crawl into my skin if he could. "Alrighty, clinger, let's go take a nap."

"I'm not clingy."

———————————

The weight of Itachi presses into my chest, the whole of him wrapped around me like a blanket. Arms clinging to my sides promise finger bruises to be there next time I take my shirt off. Head tucked into my neck, chest to chest as he lays on top of me.

His fever has gone down and he stopped shaking a couple of hours ago. Despite him being better, I don't have the heart to wake him. Instead, I stay still under him, letting him crush my lungs under his weight.

There's a knock at the door, making Itachi stir a bit. "Come in," I call softly, turning towards the door the best I can.

The door creaks open before I'm met with Hidan's and Deidara's heads poking into the room. "Lady Uchahi," Deidara calls, face scrunching up as he looks at Itachi. "When are you going to start dinner?"

"Ya, we're hungry and you promised yakitori for dinner," Hidan adds, also a bit flabbergasted at the sight in front of him.

"Ya, I know. Give me a couple of minutes and I'll start dinner. Are you guys going to help?"

"Yes!" Deidara cheers, making Itachi stir again. His hold loosens, bringing relief to my aching sides.

"Do I have to?" Hidan groans, sulking at my request.

"No, you don't," I answer, chuckling a little at the whining immortal. "I just figured you'd enjoy stabbing the skewers through the food."

The voodoo doll cheers up at my words, his creepy 'trying to show happiness' smile on his face. "I guess I can help." Hidan hurries away, a bitching Deidara in tow by his shirt collar.

Once they're gone, I soak in the feeling of Itachi's weight and his body heat for another minute or two before I try shimming out from under him. It takes a while and a few uncomfortable positions to wiggle out without waking him, but I do manage to get free.

My mission doesn't last long, arms wrapping around me as I go to push the kitchen door open.

"Where are you going?" Itachi whispers, sleep-filled kisses being pressed into any part of me he can reach.

"To make dinner. People are getting hungry."

"I need you," he almost sobs, rubbing his nose against my shoulder before pressing a kiss to my jaw. "Come lay back down."

"My love," I call, trying to soothe the half asleep about to cry Itachi clinging to me like a lifeline. "It'll only be half an hour. You can survive thirty minutes."

"And they can survive giving you one night off," he huffs, hands dropping to cup my thighs. "Please?"

"Tach-"

"Pretty please? I need you, Little Crow. I miss you. Just a little longer. Please?" He begs, tears spilling over and soaking into my shirt.

"Alright clingy, let's go lay back down."

"I'm not clingy," he whimpers, tears still striking down his face as he lifts me.

"If you say so, Love," I tease, wrapping my legs around his waist before littering him in soft kisses.

———————————

"Jesus Christ," Kisame groans, getting a disappointed huff from Itachi as he pulls away from me.

After Itachi's breakdown, Pain decided to try sending me on his next away mission. It left me with a lot of prep work, making sure no one would need anything when I was gone, leaving instructions and timers to make sure everyone takes their meds, and meal prepping for everyone.

�� Meal prepping was probably the most work. Partly because of everyone's different diets and partly because I didn't want anything going bad while I was away. Plus, I don't fully believe any of them besides maybe Sasori can do anything besides popping a dish in the oven.

Itachi mumbles to himself but pulls away from me a bit, fingers still tangled in the ends of my hair. "I'm sorry, Kisame," I say, smiling at the tall shark man.

"It's not your fault Itachi sex driven," he grumbles, rolling his eyes.

"Don't say that," Itachi mumbles, nose scrunching up in disgust. His focus stays on me, playing with my locks as we continue walking. He must like Kisame if he's willing to love on me. Or maybe he's just happy he doesn't have to deal with his withdrawals this trip.

"We are getting separate rooms, right?" The older man asks, glancing between us.

"Why would we do that?" Tachi asks, hands clenching and releasing my shirt as they shift around my back. "It's cheaper to get one room."

"Because I'm not listening to you two going at it for the next week."

My cheeks heat up at Kisame's teasing, embarrassment crawling up my spine alongside Itachi's hands. "It's... we don't... Itachi is just clingy."

"I'm not clingy," he answers, trying - and succeeding - at hiding the usual whine that follows it.

“Ya, and I’m not fucking green,” Kisame mumbles, getting a glare from Itachi.

“I’m not clingy,” Itachi hisses again, hands gripping my shoulders, and tugging me closer to him, causing me to constantly bump into him as we walk.

“Ya, okay,” Kisame continues, rolling his eyes again before chuckling to himself.

“You’re not making the best case for yourself, Love,” I tease, shaking my shoulders.

Itachi’s head dips, his lips brushing my ear as he talks, “I’m not clingy.”

———————————

Open-mouth kisses press against my collarbone, small nips following each one. Itachi is soaking in the ten minutes we have alone, hands gripping my thighs, playfully tugging them open before I let them fall closed again.

“I need you,” he whimpers, wiggling against me as his lips shift further down. His legs are tangled in mine as he grinds himself against my hip.

“I’m right here, Tach,” I hum, littering kisses across his forehead.

“Not how I meant,” he mutters, shifting himself on top of me. Itachi secures my legs around himself, pressing his growing hard-on against me. “Please?” He begs, hands slithering up my sleep shirt. He gropes my chest, impatient kisses pressed into any ounce of skin he comes in contact with.

“I thought you weren’t clingy?” Kisame calls from the now-open bathroom door.

Embarrassment climbs up to my cheeks for the hundredth time today, making my skin warm as it moves up my body. I try to ball myself up, failing miserably with Itachi still secured between my legs.

“I’m not,” Itachi mutters, hands still kneading at my breasts.

“Knock it off,” I hiss, shifting myself so my knees are pressed to his chest.

“You’re actively fondling her chest. World-class clinger if I’ve ever seen one,” Kisame says, chuckling as he flops on his bed. “Attached at the tit.”

“I’m not clingy!” Itachi bitches, tossing a pillow at his partner. Kisame and I both laugh at Tachi’s tantrum. My lovely clinger and his pet shark.

#naruto shippuden #naruto shippuden oneshot #naruto shippuden x reader #itachi uchiha oneshot #itachi uchiha x reader #itachi oneshot #itachi x reader #itachi uchiha

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robinsno1lesbian · 1 year

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Beth beth beth imagine neighbor!robin (pre them getting together) finding readers diary like somewhere in their house (or maybe reader slept over at robins and left it there) and being like “oh😏😏” and she reads a very detailed fantasy of readers about her….-🍓

older!neighbor!robin x fem!reader

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1746

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 18+ mature content (MDNI), robin reading through your diary without your permission, explicit drawings, face riding, (mutual?) masturbation, not proofread as always

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: this has been in my inbox for way too long, my apologies for that ml!! <3 i hope this makes up hehe

robin knows how wrong this is. but how could she ever stop herself? how could she, when the sweet little notebook is right there, forgotten beneath her desk? how could she, when the swirled letters of your name look all so inviting on the very first page? she runs her index over each curve of the shape of your name, exhaling softly. she can feel the places where you must've applied more pressure with the pen, leaving it imprinted on the paper. robin knows how wrong this is, and she still can't help herself. ever since she moved in, she had an eye on you. so it delighted her to figure out that you wanted her too.

now she wants to know more. robin has seen you with that notebook many times, always writing little somethings in it when you think no one is looking. yet she always is. part of her has waited for you to forget it so that she could get a glance inside, though she never actually expected that to happen. until the moment she saw it beneath the table. you must have dropped it on your way out the last time you had been at her house, robin concludes. at first, she put it on top of her notes and books on the table. "i'm gonna return it tomorrow" is what she told herself. "now it's too late for that anyway" but she didn't return it the next day. or the day after that. it has now been 5 days of you, desperately searching for your diary, while robin eyes it whenever she walks past her table. the night of the 5th day is when she can't keep her hands to herself anymore. it's a particularly hot night, the temperatures hardly dropping even after the sun has set. that must be why robin can't sleep, she reasons. definitely not because of the book that's still sitting on her table. she tosses and turns, already stripped out of everything but her boxers due to the heat. it still seems too hot somehow. robin moans in annoyance and wipes her bags away from her sweaty forehead. that's when her gaze falls upon the diary.

it seems even more tempting like this, in the pale moonlight. fuck it, she thinks, might as well...

she throws her legs over the edge of the bed and walks over to the desk, but reaches for the water bottle first. she takes a couple of gulps from the lukewarm water, her eyes never leaving the object of her desire. robin splashes some of the water against her face too, as if this would help her think this over again. but the decision is made. it has been made the moment she found it. with a grin, she grabs it and jumps back onto the bed. the whole diary seems to have the scent of your sweet perfume on it and she inhales deeply. the first couple of pages don't catch her attention. of course they're sweet, and reading through your description of your days makes her heart flutter, but it is not quite what she had hoped for. after some more flipping through it, something does tach her attention. the date gives way that you must've written it shortly after she moved in next door which makes it even more interesting. a smile creeps up robin's face as her eyes flicker over the words. the way you described your reaction to seeing her in that muscle shirt. "i have never felt this way before", you wrote in dark blue ink. "i didn't even...think it was possible to feel this way for another woman." those lines are followed by an in-depth description of robin's body, of her muscles, and the way they glistened under the sun. she can't help herself but chuckle at the little sexuality crisis she has given you before going to the next page, dated just a couple of days after the other one. her eyes widen when she spots drawings of her body all over the paper. you must have drawn her while she was doing work in her garden, without catching her attention. she tries to imagine your sweet face all scrunched up in concentration while watching her from your window, capturing each movement of hers in your little notebook. robin shifts on her sheets as she examines the pages, your drawing varying from little sketches up to detailed drawings. there are some of her upper body and some that just show her hands in a variety of different positions. robin lets her index wander over the precise lines and exhales shakily. you have captured her to a point that mesmerizes your unknowing muse. she wonders what had been on your mind while you watched her. she wonders if you already knew that you wanted her to fuck you at that time. she grins to herself as she continues flipping through it. as she goes on, she comes across more explicit, more vulgar phrases and even whole pages. it seems to her, that you figured out your sexuality throughout the pages of this very diary that she is holding now. the written words, as well as the drawings, become much more intimate than they are in their beginning. one particular page catches her attention. robin inhales sharply at the detailed fantasy that fills the entire two pages that follow. "holy shit" she breathes, while she reads about all the different ways you want her to fuck you. she wonders what happened that caused this 180-degree turn of your demeanor. but she doesn't really need to know. not when she has this. when she has the words on paper, a bit smeared every now and then and obviously written with a shaky hand, but proof of your want. it's rather harmless at first, a sweet description of lips on lips and tongues in each other's mouths. and suddenly it's so much more.

suddenly it's hands wandering and exploring, mostly on robin's end really. suddenly it's her head between your thighs and her tongue buried inside you. it's her hands on your thigh and it's the way you describe you want for her. and it doesn't end there. it's her fingers between your shaking legs, it's her palms grounding you down while you sit on her face, hips rolling eagerly. robin is taken aback entirely but she can't stop herself now. she also can't stop her own hand from sneaking into her boxers while she reads your dirty words. she exhales long and audibly when she feels her arousal on her fingers, wanting nothing more than for you to suffocate her by sitting on her face like you described in your diary. robin really can't stop herself anymore when her index moves down to her entrance, where the wetness is pooling, only waiting for her to do something about it. she takes another breath and her eyelids flutter shut as she lets her imagination wander. and all she can think about is you... ⋆

'fuck' your cry of pleasure sends a wave of heat straight down to her own center. 'fuck robin i need you' you try to hold your moans in but they come out anyway, louder and louder the more she's touching you. but, god, your moans are like fuel to the fire that's already burning within her. it makes her want you even more. she growls and spins you around so that she is no longer just eating you out. she is, of course, still lapping between your thighs, taking in each and every drop of arousal that you hold within you. but it's much more than just that now. your eyes are wide in surprise, which only spurs robin on to fuck her tongue deeper between your wet folds. you grab the headboard that is right in front of you now and shily grind your hips down into her mouth.

'oh- oh god-' the bed creaks underneath the weight of both of your bodies and the friction from your rocking hips. this, you quickly decide, is paradise. "just like that" robin mumbles and you wonder how she can even get the words out like that. but you don't care as long as she keeps praising you for what you're doing. and of course, she does so much more than that. her palms quickly find your ass and pull your whole weight down onto her mouth. your hand comes flying to cover up the obscene noise that this gesture draws from your lips and all of this while you can feel your orgasm fast approaching in your lower abdomen. 'fuck robin I'm gonna- I'm gonna-' your words are like heaven to her and she chuckles up into your cunt while mustering somewhat of a nod. 'cum for me pretty girl- fuck- cum for me' ⋆

you don't know what has interrupted your sleep. one second you're peacefully asleep, and the next your eyes fly open and consciousness creeps through you. the heat in your room is all-consuming and your sweat-soaked blanket feels heavy upon your body.

you groan audibly before you throw it aside and give the clock on your bedside table a quick glance: 03.30am. you move through your room and push the curtains aside to let some fresh air in. just when you're about to go back to bed, you notice the light that is on in the room across the street. robin's room. but not just that. the scene in front of your eyes seems like one straight out of a fantasy of yours and you actually pinch yourself to make sure you're not dreaming. the woman is spread out on her bed, legs bent at the knees. she's in nothing but her boxers, the heat must've made her do it. but that's all irrelevant, nothing but white noise to what has actually gotten your attention: one of her hands is buried between her legs, her hips rolling against it at a rapid pace. her others, whatsoever, holds an object that you've been searching for desperately for the past 5 days. your jaw practically drops at the way she is fucking herself to the words you have written on the paper. you want to be embarrassed, you really do, but how could you when this is what they do to her. "oh my god" you whisper. hidden by the darkness of your surroundings, you move your own hand into your shorts to copy her movements, eyes rolling back almost immediately.

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