#because Bella is smashing it

[carry-on-every-neverland-magic]

Watch "when the whole point of a show comes together" on YouTube

Beautiful video essay about 'When we are in Need'

[rainyreading]

can we get a 3some with theo and draco🫠🫠 there's not many of these but i need more

Two is Better Than One

Draco Malfoy x Reader x Theodore Nott

wc: 1,900

warnings: smut, threesome 18+

a/n: no because I love draco and theo together thank you so much for requesting i’m already working on another one with them in it ;)

requests open

Draco had a problem. He thought you were completely and utterly irresistible. He would look at you at the breakfast table and think you’re breathtaking. In his mind he would think what it would be like to have sex with you. He thinks it would probably be like heaven. Right now he was stuck in the friend zone and he desperately wanted to get out of it.

Little did Draco know Theo felt the same way. The three of you were actually really good friends. You were really close. Sometimes it looked like the three of you were more than friends. But no one really questioned it. It seemed really natural. The three of you were in your own little world.

The green and silver breakfast table was buzzing on a Tuesday morning. Everyone was chatting about the slytherin party that was taking place tonight. Everyone was wondering who was going and what everyone was wearing. You didn’t know about the party until you arrived at the breakfast table late as usual.

“Hey guys what did I miss?” You asked as you sat down next to Pansy, across from Draco.

“Nothing really we are just talking about the party tonight,” Theo chimed in.

“Oooh fun, is everyone going?”

“Yeah I think so,” Pansy answered.

Draco stepped on your foot under the table and you looked down to see him trying to play footsie with you. You playfully kicked him in the shin back, which earned you a smile and half a laugh. Draco stepped on your other foot and you quickly stepped on his. This went on for a while back and forth until the both of you started kicking each other.

“Okay truce,” you begged.

“Fine,” Draco responded.

“Will you be attending the party Y/N?” Theo asked.

“Most likely.”

“Good.” Theo smiled, “Won’t be nearly as fun if you’re not there.”

You smiled, “Aw you’re sweet.”

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

The party was in full swing. Draco and Theo were draped lazily on one of the couches. Theo was smoking a cigarette and Draco was people watching. What they didn’t expect is to see you in a tight dress descending the stairs. You looked hot as fuck and Draco and Theo were practically drooling.

You were intrigued with the way the slytherin boys were watching you so you made your way over to Draco and Theo. When you arrived at the couches they were looking you up and down and it made butterflies flutter in your stomach.

“Hey Y/N.” Draco started.

“You look great bella,” Theo commented.

“More than great,” Draco added.

“Do you want to dance with me Draco?” You asked.

“I don’t dance.”

“Come on, please,” You pouted.

“Fine.”

You and Draco made your way to the center of the room. There was lots of sweaty people dancing. You threw your arms around Draco’s neck and swayed your hips to the music. Draco planted his hands on your hips.

The two of you danced for a while. Then Draco leaned down and brushed his lips over yours. You were looking into his grey eyes and saw lust in them. “Is this okay?” Draco asked for your permission to kiss you. “Kiss me please,” you begged.

Draco smashed his lips onto yours in a hungry kiss. You were both making out and then you needed to breathe so you pulled away. Next thing you know Theo came up behind you. “Couldn’t resist you cara mia,” he says whispering in your ear. You push your ass back against his crotch and grind into him.

Theo let out a low groan. Draco was in front of you and Theo was behind you. Theo started to kiss your neck, you moved your head and tilted it to the side to give him more access. Draco was smirking and continuing dancing with you.

Draco and Theo were looking at you like hungry wolves. There was an unspoken energy between the three of you. It was like you all wanted to tear each other’s clothes off.

“Why don’t we go upstairs and have a little fun,” Theo suggested.

Draco took your hand and led you upstairs, Theo following closely behind. The three of you made it to Draco’s private prefect dorm. Theo locked the door behind him and casted a silencing charm over the room.

“Do you want us?” Theo asked.

“Yes,” you confirmed.

Theo kissed you on the mouth, tasting you and crushing your lips together. The kiss was heated. As he kissed you he walked you over to the bed. You lay in the middle and Theo was on one side of you and Draco was on the other. Draco started to leave dark purple marks on your neck and chest.

“Let’s get these clothes off,” Draco told you.

“Sit up for me love,” Draco guided you.

You did as you were told. Draco unzipped your dress on the back. You weren’t wearing a bra so your tits spilled out. You slithered out of the dress leaving you in your panties. “So fucking beautiful,” Theo complemented in your ear.

Theo leaned down and took one of your breasts in his mouth. He massaged the other one with his calloused hand. You bit your lip to keep from moaning. Draco touched your cunt over your panties feeling your arousal on the fabric. “Fuck, you’re soaked,” Draco hissed.

“I want to see you guys,” you whined.

Draco and Theo both chuckled. Draco took off his shirt and so did Theo. You gaped at them. Their toned abs illuminated in the light. Theo went to your other breast to suck on. You were getting impatient. You were so turned on. Draco asked, “what do you want?”

“Want your fingers please, touch me please,” you begged.

Draco rested his hand on your thigh. “This okay?” “Mmhm.” “Can I?” Draco asked referring to taking off your panties. “Yes,” you answered. Draco discarded your underwear and inserted a finger into your dripping hole. The feeling of his digit in you felt good and you finally felt some relief.

Draco added another finger. He trusted his fingers in and out. Theo kept his attention on your tits. Draco curled his fingers to hit that spongey spot inside you. You were getting close. “I can feel you squeezing the life out of me,” Draco drawled.

“More please,” you begged.

“More? You greedy girl.”

Draco stopped his movements and you let out a whine because you were so close to coming and it was ripped away from you.

Theo was looking at your cunt and you felt shy. “Draco please tell me you’re gonna let me fuck this pretty pussy,” Theo exclaimed.

“I guess, she’s gonna suck my cock then.”

“You don’t know how long I’ve wanted this,” Theo huskily spoke.

You let out a whimper. Theo unbuckled his pants and Draco followed suit. They both stripped themselves of their boxers. Their painfully hard cocks sprang free. You were wondering how they were gonna fit because of their size.

“Get on your hands and knees for me bella,” Theo ordered.

You did as you were told and you felt the tip of Theo’s cock swipe through your folds. “You gonna be a good girl and suck my cock?” Draco asked. “Mmhmm.”

Draco pumped his cock a few times with his hand and put the tip of it on your lips. Theo let out a loud groan as he slid into you from behind. You felt him enter you and you hissed at the stretch.

Theo was in heaven. He couldn’t believe it. “You’re squeezing me so tight cara mia,” he growled.

“Open up sweetheart,” Draco ordered.

Draco put his cock past your lips, you used your tongue to lick the tip. Draco moaned at the sensation. You took him in your mouth carefully. Then you took one hand and held the rest that didn’t fit in your mouth. You were balancing on one hand.

You started bobbing your head up and down on Draco’s length. Theo set a brutal pace. The pleasure was overwhelming for all three of you. Your walls clenched around Theo’s cock and he felt euphoric. Theo pulled out just to slam back in. He was gripping your hips harshly, you were sure there would be bruises there later.

“Fuck, you’re taking me so well,” Draco praised.

You let out a loud moan when Theo hit a particularly deep part inside you. “It’s like you were made for me,” Theo purred.

You sucked Draco’s cock skillfully. He wasn’t going to last long. Your mouth was warm and wet, it felt so good. Draco reached around and grabbed your hair. He used that as leverage to fuck your mouth.

Theo was thrusting harshly and you felt yourself getting closer to your release. Draco was rough but you felt his cock twitch in your mouth signaling he was close.

“Gonna let me come down your throat?” Draco panted.

You nodded best you could with his cock in your mouth. Draco spilled his cum in your mouth and you swallowed every drop. You stuck your tongue out to show him you swallowed it all.

“Gonna cum bella,” Theo hissed.

“Cum inside me please, need it,” you begged.

“Hey no fair, next time i’m fucking her pussy,” Draco ordered.

Theo filled you up with his cum and your own orgasm washed over you. You felt like your body was floating. You were tingly all over. Theo fucked you through both your orgasms. When Theo pulled out you whimpered.

You collapsed on the bed, and curled up in between Draco and Theo. The three of you snuggled together catching your breaths. Draco rubbed your back and Theo stroked your hair. Your legs were intertwined.

“Wanna take a bath love?” Draco asked.

“Only if you carry me,” you responded.

“I’ll start the bath,” Theo explained. Theo got up and turned the bath water on. He waited for the water to get hot and then put the plug in the drain. Hot water soon filled the big bathtub and Theo added some bubble bath.

“It’s ready!” Theo got in himself. Draco untangled himself from you and threw on some grey sweats. He picked you up bridal style and carried you to the tub.

The hot water felt amazing on your skin. Theo drew circles on your thighs underwater. Draco took his time and washed your hair for you from outside the bath.

When the water started to get cold the two of you got out of the bath. Draco gave you one of his shirts and a pair of clean boxers to wear. The three of you got back in bed.

Your mind was still a little fuzzy but you thought about what had just happened and how you didn’t want it to end. So there was a burning question you wanted to ask. You took a deep breath and asked, “What if we all date each other?”

“What do you mean?”

“I want to be with both of you. You would be my boyfriends and you two would have one girlfriend and one boyfriend,” you explained.

“If that’s what you want, how can I say no to you,” Draco replied.

“I’d love to,” Theo told you.

“Yay!” you clapped.

Before you drifted off to sleep you herd a faint voice say sweet dreams. Which was funny because Draco’s and Theo’s dreams finally came true.

[writingquestionsanswered]

What's "Filler" vs What's Relevant

Anonymous asked: How do you know when something is “filler” that needs to be deleted, or if it can be kept? I often see advice saying "your characters should talk about nothing but the plot... no frivolous banter or silly arguments, because it's useless, self-indulgent, filler-fluff." But then I watch or see things and it's like, hm... there sure are a lot of things happening here that aren't plot relevant, yet the audience adores it. For example, in a popular episode of Avatar: The Last Airbender, called "The Tales of Ba Sing Se," nothing relevant to the main plot (stopping Fire Lord Ozai) happens. Instead, characters shop and go to a spa, rebuild a zoo, and go on a date. Part of the episode is even dedicated to one character's running off after having a nightmare. Nothing that we learn or that happens in the episode is ever relevant again as far as I recall, yet 19 years later, people still talk about how much they love that episode. So, I’m really confused as to what counts as useless filler/fluff vs what's important information. How do you tell the difference?

[Ask edited for length...]

First, it's important to note that a Nickelodeon cartoon from twenty years ago is not a great measuring stick for how to write fiction in 2024. ATLA, from what I've heard, is an amazing TV show, full of heart and top-notch character development. But it was also a cartoon created for and written to be enjoyed by children as young as age seven (the low end of Nickelodeon's demographic at the time), so it was following different guidelines from what you'd be following if you're trying to write a short story, novella, or book.

Case in point, the ATLA episode "The Tales of Ba Sing Se" is what's known in television as a "vignette," which uses short, self-contained stories unified by concept and theme to explore character relationships, growth, world-building, and to expand on themes that are important to the overall story. So, while the episode may not have contained plot-relevant elements, as get a glimpse into the minutiae of the characters' daily lives in Ba Sing Se, the characters and their relationships are still pushed forward, even if in only the tiniest ways.

And, again, this is a TV show with 61 episodes, not a short story, novel, or book, all of which are structured differently than a TV show.

On the Subject of "Fluff"

I want to be clear about the fact that if you're writing fan-fiction, fluff is just fine. And even if you're writing original fiction, you can get away with a little bit of fluff... you just need to be clever about it...

Filler, Fluff, or Relevant?

If something is absolutely necessary to move the story forward or understand it, it's plot relevant.

If something doesn't move the story forward and isn't critical to the reader's understanding of the story, but it helps them understand the characters or world in a way they didn't before, it's probably fluff that's been dressed up in a plot relevant costume. (That's the "you need to be clever about it" bit from above, which we'll get to in a second...)

If something isn't necessary to move the story forward or understand it, and it doesn't add anything to the reader's understanding of the characters or world, it's filler. It's just words on a page that serve no purpose, and it should be cut.

On the Subject of "Moving the Story Forward"

To clarify, in case anyone is wondering, "moving the story forward" means advancing the plot from one scene to the next scene. In other words, to use The Hunger Games as an example, Prim's name being drawn in the Reaping moves the story forward, because it forces Katniss to volunteer in her place. It moves the story from Katniss being a bystander at the Reaping to being a tribute. Another example, using Twilight, when Tyler's van skids into the parking lot and almost smashed into Bella, it forces Edward to use his otherworldly vampire strength to save her, which confirms in her mind that he's not human. It moves the story from Bella being curious about this weird boy at school to realizing he is something else and wanting to know more.

Dressing Up Fluff to Make it Relevant

Let's say you're writing a story about a young woman who stayed in her small town and went to community college while her high school besties went off to a college she couldn't afford, and now they've returned and she's trying to maintain these important friendships while struggling with feelings of resentment, jealousy, and feeling left behind.

Now, let's also say you have an idea for a really cute scene where your protagonist and one of these friends goes to a museum together for an afternoon. And as it stands, nothing plot relevant happens in this scene and it doesn't add anything to the reader's understanding of the characters or world. It's just something silly and fun you think would be cute in your story. How can you turn it from fluff to relevant?

To start with, look at your character's internal conflict... wanting to maintain the friendship while struggling with jealousy and feeling left behind. What could happen in the museum that could play on that? Maybe they stop in front of a reproduction of the Venus de Milo and the friend starts talking about the semester abroad she and the other friends did in Paris. This is a perfect place to explore the protagonist's feelings of jealousy and being left behind. If the character talks about her thoughts and feelings in that moment, either inside her head or with the friend, it gives you a chance to expand upon these feelings, explore why they're happening, and even to add further conflict. Maybe she confronts the friend and it doesn't go over well. Or, maybe she lies about something to feel better about herself, and that creates problems later.

Another option would be to look at the next plot point that needs to happen. Is there some way this scene can be used as a stepping stone between two existing scenes? Could something be added to this scene that raises the stakes or or makes the next scene more interesting?

While I'm sure there are some scenes you just can't make relevant no matter how hard you try, usually you can find a way if you just take the time to brainstorm and try out different ideas.

One Last Note...

On the rare occasion you end up with a fluff scene that has no relevance and can't be made to have relevance no matter how hard you try, write it anyway. Then, take it out, save it someplace safe, and hang onto it. These kinds of stories make GREAT incentives for things like newsletter sign-ups, subscription perks, web site bonuses, etc.

I hope that helps! ♥

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I’ve been writing seriously for over 30 years and love to share what I’ve learned. Have a writing question? My inbox is always open!

♦ Questions that violate my ask policies will be deleted! ♦ Please see my master list of top posts before asking ♦ Learn more about WQA here

[startrekfangirl2233-writes]

Nothing Comes Close to the Golden Coast

Description: You're on the beach because it's what your little sister wanted for her bachelorette party. One day, you can manage, right? You're not expecting to stumble right into the woman who could can change your outlook on beaches that day. But with Natasha Trace, maybe you're starting to see nothing comes close to the golden coast.

Warnings: Female! Reader, Flirting, Beaches, Mild Cursing, Natasha is too flirty for words and possibly a little dangerous

A/N: Hiya lovelies! This is a fic I wrote for @bellaireland1981 's 1K Pool Party celebration. Congratulations on 1K followers Bella! It's my first time writing a long form Phoenix x Reader fic and I hope I did Nix justice. All my love to @horseshoegirl for beta-ing this fic for me and making sure I wasn't 1) using too many commas (yes I have a problem) and 2) that this fic was flirty and fun and summery enough!

Word Count: 3617

Cross-posted to AO3 here!

Cross-posted to Wattpad here!

You like going to the beach as much as any other girl. But unlike other girls, you tend to prefer quiet, calm, clear beaches to lie on. The kind of beach where you can hear the tide coming in and the seagulls wheeling in the clear summer sky. The kind of beach where the sand is clear, and you never have to fight to find a spot to lay down your towel and where you can read without a beach ball smashing into your face. Of course, finding the clear beaches you love is far from easy. It seems like the minute the calendar hits Memorial Day, everyone in the Greater San Diego area books it to the beach for the summer. You’ve even seen people taking meetings out on the beach. But to put it bluntly, you're not one of those people.

So why are you out on this congested, loud beach today? There's only one reason: your baby sister's Bachelorette party. It was an obligation you couldn’t get out of. You love your sister, but you’re less than happy to be spending time with her and her friends. When it’s just the two of you, it feels like you’re the closest pair of siblings on the planet. But when she’s with her friends, it feels like there is a colossal, ever-widening, yawning gulf between you. Everyone calls her the pretty one while you're the practical one. In the eyes of your entire extended family, it is one of the many reasons why she's getting married at 22 when you're still single at 28. To keep the peace, you’ve been pasting a smile on your face and literally grinning and bearing it for everything she’s asked of you. Because you love her and in only a week’s time you can get a bit of a break from her (or really, from her best friend).

To make matters worse, you’re the only girl in the group wearing a one-piece suit, something flattering yet mostly covered, without showing off your cleavage or too much of your ass.

“God, do you have to wear that old lady suit?” She'd scoffed when you walked out of your house that morning, a sunhat on your head and a sarong tied around your waist to complement the deep maroon one-piece you’d pulled out to wear. “Please tell me you have a bikini you can go wear instead. If you'd told me, I would have brought you one of mine!”

As if you'd have ever worn a bikini of hers. Your younger sister is thin, model thin, with a narrow waist and perfectly perky A-cups, which look fantastic in the hot pink bikini she's wearing today. She's got the physique that makes men look a little stupid. Already, there is a pack of unfairly pretty men who have gone a little cross-eyed when your sister and her friends walked by. In contrast, you're shorter and curvier, your hair dark where hers is blonde, and the ultimate introvert to her bubbly extrovert.

You aren't even her maid of honor at her wedding - that particular honor belongs to her best friend - yes, the aforementioned obnoxious Sally herself. It's not as if anyone has even noticed you're not having the time of your life in the water. After all, why would they? Who wants the babysitter hanging around you when you're trying to have fun? It's the role you've been playing since your sister was born, and you're sure you'll play it again once your sister has kids. For now, all you can do is stay secluded under your umbrella and try to read a little despite the noise. At least it is a little emptier on the beach now as the sun sinks slowly across the sky.

“Well, well, well, what do we have here?”

The voice is male, filled with all the surety of a man who knows what he wants and has never failed to get it. Your eyes are rolling before your head rises from your book. Your sister and Sally are under the umbrella next to you, and unsurprisingly, that comment was targeted at the two of them. You're pretty sure they are two of the group who were tossing around not one but two footballs on the beach.

“Two pretty things like you look like you could use a drink.”

It's the blonde, tall with green eyes, and a shit-eating grin, who makes the offer. And to your disbelief, it looks like your sister is going to take these guys up on their offer.

“We'd love to!”

Is she thinking at all? Before you can stop yourself, you're speaking.

“Can I talk to you, Vicky?”

“The fuck do you need to talk to her for?”

Sally's growling at you, her arms crossed under her chest in a way that accentuates the cleavage already threatening to break free of her string bikini. Your cheeks flush as the two men glance between you and her, discerning gazes flip-flopping between you and her at heated words.

“You're her sister, not the fucking morality police. We're having drinks with them. Either you can join us, or you can glare disapprovingly. But don't you dare tell us what we can and cannot do.”

“You're such a fucking stick in the mud. I don’t get why the hell you came with us. Why are you always coming out with us, anyway? I mean, I’d have had a life by the time I was your age, but well, I guess you're even too boring for that.”

You're left gaping at Sally and your sister as they walk away. The words don't hurt, not really. You've been hearing a version of them for years, ever since Sally and Vicky decided they didn't like having you shadow them. Of course, they don't believe you when you say you'd rather do anything other than join them while they get up to all the bullshit they do. Once upon a time, Vicky used to defend you. Obviously, those days are long gone.

It doesn't mean you won't still watch out for your sister, though. Call it some sort of sickening nostalgia for the days when you and her were close once, chasing each other around playing unicorns in your backyard. Call it affection for the little girl who used to follow along behind you, repeating everything you said with a lisp. Call it love for your sister who you would once do anything for - would still do anything for.

Of course, you immediately realize the situation is far different than you thought it would be. Because there aren't just two incredibly hot men, but ten. Before you can blink, they're all over Vicky, Sally and their other friends. Somebody has sparked up a bonfire, and you gravitate to the hot flames despite yourself. You're a little chilled after being out in the hot sun all day. As the sun sets over the sea, one of them nestles a Bluetooth speaker into the sand and turns the music up. 

California Gurls, we're unforgettable,

Daisy Dukes, bikinis on top

Whoever made this playlist needs better taste in music. Or at least they need to pick something which you haven't heard on the radio every day of the summer in 2010. As it is, it will be stuck in your head for days.

“This song sucks, huh?”

You jump at the voice near your ear, stumbling and nearly face-planting in the sand. You have the kind of face which shows your emotions plainly, you've always been told so. Now someone has noticed, and you hope this person won’t throw you under the bus like all of Vicky’s friends. You pretend it’s just the song as you turn around with a smile pasted across your face.

“It's the worst!”

You're sure you have other things to say, but they disappear from your head like smoke when you see the woman who is talking to you. She's gorgeous, whiskey eyes flickering gold with the bonfire's flames. She's absolutely beautiful, and it feels a little like you're in an alternate universe. There's a cool breeze coming off the water, and in addition to the salt from the sea, you can smell hibiscus in the air. It has to be from her perfume, you note vacantly.

There's humor in her eyes as she stands beside you, surveying the others around the bonfire just like you are. You can see your sister in the distance, dancing with the blonde who asked if she wanted a drink. She looks like she’s well on her way to becoming completely drunk, but you don’t care. Vicky’s an adult. She made her own decisions, and she can stand by them. All of your attention is on the brunette in front of you. She holds out a bottle to you, condensation dripping over her fingers.

“I thought you could use a drink.”

“Thanks.”

The drink in question is a bottle of soda, ice cold.

“I, uhh…” She looks a little sheepish, some of her confidence draining away as you look inquiringly at her. “I wasn’t sure how else to get you to talk to me.”

“W-why wouldn’t I talk to you?” 

She grins ruefully, “Because you've been glaring at Bagman and your friends since you walked over here?”

“And, you don't look like you're having much fun.”

“Fun…” You sigh, "is a word for it. And we're not friends.”

“Younger sister?”

You laugh, “Is it that obvious?”

“You're a good sister, coming out with her and her friends like this.” 

Her innocent words touch your heart a little bit.

“I've got two just like her. They're so sure they're grown up, but they could still need somebody to watch out for them.”

You turn excitedly, “Yes! Yes. That’s it! She's getting married next week, but there's still so much she doesn’t know yet! And she and her best friend hate that I'm here. Call it her need to be seen and treated like an adult. I'm in her bridal party and she doesn’t even want to celebrate with me. Guess everybody would pick Bagman over there over me.”

“I don't hate that you're here, you know?”

You startle a little at the frank openness of this beautiful stranger's voice.

“Why not? You don't know a single thing about me.”

“I know you’re a big sister. I know you hate Katy Perry’s California Gurls, not because the song itself is horrible, but because you’ve probably heard it a million times.”

She tugs at your hand, and you follow her as she leads you away from the bonfire, the song still blaring away. You shouldn’t follow her, you know you shouldn’t. But despite yourself,you’re curious. There’s something about her you need to know more of. Away from the bonfire, the air is cool, and crisp. The beach feels swept clean the further you walk.

“If I didn’t know better, I’d think you planned this.” 

You crack open the soda and take a sip, pretending not to feel dark eyes on the side of your face.

“I didn’t plan it.” She chuckles a little, playing with your fingers. “All I wanted was to keep talking. I think I owe you a few more things I know about you, anyways.”

Your heart warms as she shrugs out of the hoodie and lays it over the sand. She sprawls down with a grace you couldn't emulate if you tried, all long, lean muscles exuding strength and power. You feel awkward in contrast, self-conscious as you try to sit on as much of the hoodie as you can without sprawling in her lap in a way that would have you mortified and her uncomfortable. But you can still feel her, warm and solid, as she retakes your hand. It’s comforting, the light touch, the calluses at her fingertips making goosebumps rise over your arms. Her perfume smells different this close, the light scent of summer hibiscus melting into roses and morning dew. It’s addicting.

“Y-you mentioned there were a couple more things you knew about me?” 

The words leave you in a whisper, tripping over each other as they drop off your tongue.

Her laugh is husky and warm, and for one moment, all you want is for her to make that wondrous sound again. But you quell that particular impulse. After all, no matter how weak you are for this woman, you barely know her. You won't be making a fool of yourself tonight.

“I think you're smart, smarter than anyone gives you credit for being. You're strong and single-minded.” She leans in conspiratorially, a smirk on her lips. “Some people would call you stubborn, but I think they're just afraid you'll leave them behind in your quest for world domination.”

“How do you know I'm gunning for world domination?” You're smiling from ear-to-ear as you ask the question.

“All the prettiest girls are. Especially the girls who bring a book to the beach for family when they'd probably rather be curled up on a window seat with a cup of tea handy.”

Your cheeks have to be crimson by now. Of all the days for an unfairly pretty woman to come up to you and flirt, she has to pick today. She’s so confident, so pretty and vivacious and all the things you never could be. In comparison, you just feel dull, like a piece of fabric bleached by the sun, until there are only the faintest hints of color left. It’s also been a really long time since anyone’s even looked twice at you.

“I-I do like reading at a window seat while it rains.” Your smile is halfway genuine now, you think. You can’t keep volunteering bits of information about yourself without getting some info from her in turn.

“What do you like doing in your spare time?”

Maybe you picked the wrong question to ask because her easy smile drops faster than you can blink. The small wrinkles at the corners of her eyes flatten out, and the dimples are so deep you’ve been wanting to kiss them since you saw them disappear as her smile does. The silence between you isn’t comfortable anymore. It’s awkward, a discordantly awkward tone spoiling the harmony of the moments before.

“I don’t have much spare time. Or hobbies.”

“I’m sorry.”

You’re babbling before the apology has left your lips, mind speeding at a hundred miles per hour at the thought you’ve somehow managed to insult the one person who’s wanted to talk to you all night. You’re standing and turning to head back to the bonfire before she hops up next to you.

“Whoa, whoa.” Her hands are hot as they make contact with your upper arms. “I’m not angry at you. I dunno if you heard what those meatheads were saying when they were posturing to your sister and her friends earlier, but I’m a Naval Aviator.”

“It doesn’t leave a lot of time for hobbies.”

“So, what do you do with your free time?” 

She’s so close you can feel the heat of her skin.

“Most of my free time is spent at the gym. It takes hard work to look this good.” 

You giggle a little as she tugs your hands until they’re flat against her toned stomach. The muscles twitch under your fingers a little, and you feel light-headed. Is she really flirting with you? You? 

“Not everyone can read books and look as good as you do.”

“What else do you do?” Your voice is weak, barely audible over the rushing waves, but she hears you anyway.

“Sleep. Try to read. Though it’s harder to concentrate when you’re surrounded by hundreds of lonely, horny men than when you’re sitting in a window seat.”

She smirks a little, leaning closer then. 

“And I definitely spend a lot of time daydreaming about a pretty bookworm in my bed to keep me warm at night.”

“O-oh.”

Your face has to be crimson by now. It feels so hot. The dark ocean seems way too alluring, if only for a cold reality check. There’s no way this gorgeous, smart, sexy woman is hitting on you. There’s no way. Maybe if you keep saying it over and over, it will be a reality instead of what your delusional mind is coming up with.

“Sadly, there hasn’t been a pretty bookworm in my bed in a while.” 

The smile on her face falls, the motes of color swirling in her hypnotic eyes, fracturing into crystals at the words. 

“None of them can take the long days away, no dates, little contact. Maybe one day I’ll find the right bookworm for me. Unless…”

Her arm has found its way around your shoulders, the warm lines of her body searing into you.

“Well, this is a silly question, but would you maybe like to grab a coffee sometime? Get to know each other better?”

You want to say yes. More than anything you want to. But you can’t bring yourself to accept her invitation, not when you have more questions than answers.

“W-why me?”

Her lips are warm even through the material of your half-damp swimsuit as she presses a kiss to your shoulder.

“You’re different from the other girls I talk to.” 

You’re unsure how to respond, half afraid she will go on and on about how boring and dull you are. All of the others you’ve dated certainly have. They expect one of the standard sexy-librarian types when they meet you and find out you like to read. They’re always disappointed when the truth they come to see couldn’t be any further from what they imagine. 

“You’re so beautiful,” she sighs. “I swear I nearly got hit on the head with one of the footballs when I saw you walk out onto the beach and sit under your umbrella.”

“You missed it, I'm sure, but those goofballs in my squadron were laughing at me for hours.” 

There's a slight pink tinge to her cheeks as she leans back. You miss her the minute you lose her warmth.

“I um…” She runs a hand, long-fingered and pretty (why the hell are even her hands so pretty), through her hair. “I'm pretty sure that's why those two walked up to your sister and her friend.”

“They wanted me to come to the bonfire tonight?”

You're pretty sure your mouth is wide open at this point. 

“Yeah. Though I should say, I wanted an excuse to talk to the prettiest woman I've ever seen. And maybe flirt with her a little. And maybe get her to agree to go out with me.”

“How is this clever plan of yours working for you?” 

Your voice is a whisper again as you peer over your shoulder at her. 

“You don’t know my name. You don't even know if you're my type.” 

It takes every bit of courage to banter lightly with her.

“I think it's going pretty well. After all, I've got you sitting here with me instead of out there with those idiots. And I'd very much like your name.”

You smile despite yourself as you tell her your name, getting hers in turn: Natasha Trace, callsign Phoenix. Her callsign fits her fierce and confident personality.

“So what do you say about getting coffee with me sometime?”

Just before you're about to respond, you hear your name called from the bonfire. It's one of Vicky's friends calling for you and pointing at your sister. She's drunk, and you can tell she's minutes away from courting an indecent exposure charge. She's sitting on Bagman's lap and doing her best to eat his face right off. He seems like a more than willing participant. Your concerns have more to do with how her bikini is moving, how she’s only moments away from an indecent exposure charge.

“Fuck.” 

You turn to Natasha and smile. “I'm really sorry, but I have to…”

You make a vague gesture in your sister's direction.

“I understand. She needs you right now.”

You nod and begin to walk away, pulling your coverup out of your bag. But your feet don't let you move very far. What kind of person would you be if you let the best thing that's ever happened to you slip through your fingers so easily? You can't let her slip away. So you rummage in your bag for one of the notebooks you always carry with you and scrawl your phone number down on it, ripping the page away.

She looks surprised to see you again when you catapult yourself into her arms and kiss her soft lips. She tastes like the beer she was drinking earlier, and as her arms wrap around your waist, you sink into the kiss a little bit more. You feel like you never want to leave. Yet you know the longer you stay here kissing Natasha, the more time your sister has to make situations worse. Her friends may be cheering her on, but her fiancé won't be quite so magnanimous.

When you pull away, her cheeks are the same pink as earlier. Her lips are kiss-swollen, and her eyes are bright. You're sure yours are the same.

“Let's get that coffee, Natasha.”

You press the paper into her hands and hurry back up to the beach to take care of your sister. In the hilarity of pulling her away from Bagman and wrestling her into your coverup, you can feel eyes on you. They track you until you drive away.

There's a text on your phone when you get home.

Let's get that coffee tomorrow morning. Do you know Madison's Cafe? I'd very much like to kiss you again.

I DO NOT CONSENT TO HAVE MY WORK POSTED, TRANSLATED, OR PUBLISHED ON ANY SITES OTHER THAN ON AO3, ON WATTPAD, OR ON TUMBLR BY ME. IF YOU SEE MY WORKS ANYWHERE OTHER THAN AO3, ON WATTPAD, OR TUMBLR, THEN THEY HAVE BEEN POSTED WITHOUT MY PERMISSION AND I WILL BE WORKING TO TAKE THEM DOWN.

Taglist:

@desert-fern @horseshoegirl @dakotakazansky @sarahsmi13s @teacupsandtopgun

@roosterforme @cherrycola27 @thedroneranger @chaoticassidy

@kmc1989

[pinkandlilacroses]

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

Angel - Paige bueckers

part 2

• summary {when an unsuspecting girl falls for the basketball star}

• warnings {smut}

• comment if you would like to be added to the taglist

bellas’s pov

paige

- you wanna come over

what. the. fuck. yes, yes i do. but i don’t want to be ‘just another girl’ to her

fuck

bella

- why

- don’t you have other girls to fuck

i know that sounds rude, but its true. i’m not gonna get used by that tall, blonde, gorgeou-

wait, what am i saying.

paige

- i want u tho

fuck. should i go?

no i shouldn’t, yes i should, no, yes, no, yes

bella

- i’m straight

i mean, its the truth. i guess

paige

- you sure angel

no i’m not sure, also call me angel again. fuck

bella

- i’m sure

i’m not

paige

- then why don’t i believe you

cause its not true

bella

- you should

- cause its true

paige

- i don’t wanna believe it

fuck.

bella

- goodnight

“fuck” i scream into my pillow, thank god Avery is at Jakes tonight.

should i go

no

yes

ugh.

i cant stop thinking about her, for the past hour my favourite activity hasn’t been executed because of this tall, blonde, gorgeous girl.

fuck. im gonna regret this

bella

- whats your dorm number

paige

- 354

bella

- coming

i quickly put on some mascara and change into sweats and a hoodie. this is fucked

i start walking (running) to paige’s

i’m gonna regret this

“i knew you would change your mind” paige says, while opening her door. fuck she looks good, she has changed into a white t-shirt and boxer shorts. fuck

“shut up” i say, smashing my lips to hers, wrapping my arms around her neck and she grips my waist.

after a couple minutes, her tongue begins to explore my mouth and i let out a soft moan and she lets out a soft chuckle in response.

without breaking the kiss, she begins leading us to her room

i’m gonna regret this. i’ve never done anything with a girl before, i want to, but its my first time. i guess i’m nervous

paige throws me on her bed and kneels on-top of me, taking me in.

“you still straight” she says smugly. fuck i hate her

“i dont know” i say breathlessly, fuck i hate how vulnerable i’m being right now

she laughs, literally laughs in response.

“i think your straight” she says, at the same time taking off my hoodie.

fuck i didn’t wear a bra

“no bra princess” she says, smirking at me

fuck.

“its for you” i say, shocked at my own confidence, why am i so confident, i wasn’t 5 seconds ago

“good girl” she says, latching onto my left side and massaging my right nipple.

fuck. call me good girl again

i let out soft, breathy moans and she hums in response.

dont get me wrong, i love what shes doing. but i want her downstairs, you get me.

“paige” i say, almost out of breath

“yes baby” she says, still attached to my skin

“can you touch me” i say, almost begging

she moves from her old position and she is now extremely close to my face “where do you want me to touch you princess”

folded

i take her hand and move it to my core

she raises her eyebrows and begins to take off my sweats, painfully slow.

i let out an agitated grunt, and she doesn’t speed up. is she truing to kill me

after 3 hours, my sweats are off and she spots the wet patch on my panties. fuck. thats embarrassing

i cover my face in sheer embarrassment and she tears them away.

she starts to touch the wet patched formed and lets out an accomplished sigh.

“paige please, stop teasing”

she begins to take my panties off, with her teeth. fuck i’m dead.

my pussys glistening from my wetness and i want to die. why is she doing this to me

“so wet angel” she says, admiring me

i let out a moan, extremely annoyed by how long this is taking

she gats the hint and begins lowering her tongue to me.

“oh my god” i moan, shamelessly arching my back

flattening her tongue and licking up and down my folds, she hums against my core. i cant stop moaning

she moves to my entrance and begins teasing, and a string of pornographic moans come from my mouth.

she begins to pump her tongue in and out of my entrance, while looking up at me. fuck

“fuck paige, my clit please” i say, begging

“desperate slut, aren’t you?” she says, cocking her head up at me and i cant help but moan at that comment.

she attacks my clit and moves two of her fingers up to my mouth. fuck

“fuck paige, fuck fuck fuck fuck” i moan

“suck” she demands

i try my best to suck her long, skinny fingers but its probably a shitty attempt.

she moves her fingers from my mouth and moves them to my entrance. shit

“paige fuck” i scream as she enters me, mouth still on my clit. my hands are in her hair, pushing her down

she curls her fingers, hitting my g spot exactly and i cant stop moaning, borderline screaming.

“fuck paige, im close” i say, barley getting the words out

“cum for me angel” and those words send me over the edge. i feel myself tense around her fingers, and my back arching more that i thought i ever could, paige helps me ride out my climax

“fuck” she says, laying down next to me, im completely out of breath

“ok, you can go now” she says, facing me

i shouldn’t have done this.

[volturissideslut]

Can you do the Volturi guards with a vampire mate that is the youngest cullen and the Cullens are over protective.

𝖁𝖔𝖑𝖙𝖚𝖗𝖎 𝖌𝖚𝖆𝖗𝖉

3 for 3? Maybe I have turned over a new leaf... This is more of how they are with the cullens as in laws than anything else

Alec

He's civil. For you.

Just don't expect him to interact with them much.

And by 'them' I mean the idiots of the group as he claims.

Doesn't mind Carlisle, Esme, Jasper and Rosalie

Doesn't know what to think of Emmett. He's cool but too much sometimes. (he won't admit that he kinda likes him even tho he finds him a little much sometimes)

Lock him in a room with Edward, Alice, or Bella alone they're not coming out alive.

Jane

The cullens?

Really?

Of all people, them??

Constant eye rolls when you talk about them, but she's civil for you.

Just please don't leave her alone in a room with Edward. One of them won't come out alive, and rest assured she'll be fine.

Same goes for bella

She is slightly less disapproving of the rest, but they are tainted in her mind by those two baffoons

Demetri

Whines like a toddler

"do they have to come?"

"do I have to go?"

"Darling-"

Will stop if you actually get upset, because upsetting you is the last thing he wants to do.

But if Edward gives him one more patronising lecture on how he should treat you they he may have to smash his face in

"What do you mean ignore him? I would never do anything like that to you and it's insulting that he would even insinuate that"

Felix

Actually unbothered, unless they start accusing him of doing wrong by you.

They're your family, and he'll deal with the irritating in-laws because he loves you because, yes, he loves you that much

[a-not-so-clean-blog]

Desmond x Ezio au drabble 🤍

No matter what year it is, a bar is still a bar. Drinking, brawling, flirting, and general chaos will forever be commonplace.

“It's nice to know some things don't change.” Ezio's smooth voice sent a slight chill up Desmond's neck as the Italian man draped his arm over Desmond's shoulders. With a toothy smile Desmond knows he did it on purpose. Always teasing him whenever he sees an opportunity. Always getting a little closer. He may be touchy now, but soon Ezio's hands will roam and only ghost over him. Leaving Desmond craving more, Ezio knows exactly how to push his buttons.

Desmond, however, was not the only person the Italian had been close to tonight. Unfortunately this is where the trouble started.

A tall burly man sauntered up to the two assassins. Head high and shoulders back, the man oozed bravado. Though neither of them paid him a second glance until he loomed over them and started speaking a little too loudly. It was an obvious intimidation tactic that fell short of any real threat to the two sitting at the bar.

“Whitch one of you fuckers kissed my girlfriend!” Desmond could smell the booze on his breath, rancid. Nothing like the sweet scent of wines that lingered on Ezio.

Speaking of which, Desmond shot Ezio a questioning look. Ezio leans back in his chair and shrugs.

“She never said she had a partner, but I did have a beautiful bella kiss me earlier.”

In the blink of a golden eye the mans first started towards Ezio's face, and Desmond's instincts had already kicked in. Grabbing the man's wrist and twisting him around until he kicked the man's back making him stumble forward.

He regained his footing and faced Desmond who now stood between the two drunks. Fists clenched and eagle eyes looking for the slightest movement.

The drunk man charged at him and without thinking and Desmond redirected him and smashed his face into the wooden bar top.

Ezio sat back and watched as fists flew. Both brawlers oblivious to the shouts and cheers around them, too focused in the moment. Ezio saw something else too, something only he could see.

Desmond's posture was straighter, his hands were lower, shoulders more relaxed, and his stance was ever so slightly farther apart. It was like looking in a foggy mirror.

Desmond was bleeding Ezio's fighting style.

By the time the one sided fight was over the drunk was a bloody mess on the floor and Desmond was unscathed except for some busted knuckles. Desmond went to return to his barstool but the three were promptly kicked out for fighting.

Ezio laughed as he and Desmond walked down the street looking for another place to relax. Meanwhile Desmond kind of just grumbled to himself for getting kicked out of the bar.

“I didn't even start the fight! Why am I getting punished for this!” Ezio's rich buttery laughter filled the cool night air once more.

“I might as well have been the one fighting anyway. Why did you get involved?” Desmond knew that Ezio noticed the bleeding effect, but was strangely embarrassed to admit it. Maybe it was because he had one too many shots but talking about using Ezio's experience felt… intimate.

“So why didn't you jump in then?” Desmond's words came out harsher than intended, but as always the Italian just shrugged it off.

“The two of us would have been overkill. Not worth getting both of our hands dirty.” Ezio suddenly stopped in his tracks and grabbed Desmond's hand. Gently he brought his hand up and kissed his bloody knuckles, all the while staring Into Desmond's normal whiskey colored eyes. “I will admit I enjoyed the show you put on~”

Embarrassed, he pulls his hand away and continues walking. All the while Ezio has that same sly grin on his face. “You're buying the next round.”

“Whatever you say, vita mia~”

Desmond's face felt warm and no matter how hard he tried to convince himself, he knew the heat in his cheeks wasn't just from the alcohol.

Translations

Bella: woman or beauty

Vita mia: a very close term of endearment. Literally translates to my life

@sulfies his art has been living rent free in my head for a month and was the inspiration for this fic!

[delicrieux]

𝑻𝑰𝑴𝑬 𝑻𝑶 𝑷𝑹𝑬𝑻𝑬𝑵𝑫, 2. summer 1972, august

pairing for this chapter—regulus black x f!lestrange!reader   warnings for this chapter—none! word count—2.3k

regulus can get quite mean in the sweltering summer heat.

masterlist | buy me coffee☕ | ttp masterlist | < back | next >

the grandiose patio is lined with wet footprints. yours. and regulus’. the sunshine is too unkind to him – burnt easily, he seems even more miserable in summer. he’s not much fond of water, even if you constantly drag him into the depths of the pool. the chlorine reeks, he had said displeased, trying to swat away his wet hair from his eyes. you had fought, tooth and nail, not to state, you reek. it would’ve obviously been a joke, and sirius would have laughed so merrily at your boundless wit, but regulus would have flushed in embarrassment and confined himself to silence.

you don’t like much when regulus is silent. in fact, you don’t fancy silence at all. father’s silence usually entails bad news, and mother is always silent. your house is too big to retain any noise, and rodolphus is contemplative and rabastan doesn’t take up enough space. with bella here, perhaps things will become more rowdy.

already, she’s turning everything upside down in what she has dubbed ‘the great upheaval.’ the new lady lestange has expensive taste and moody preferences, and so the walls are getting painted, and all sorts of curious trophies and relics from the depths of gringotts are being brought as decorations. she had let you practice explosive magic to knock down a bookcase she believed to be misplaced. you had been very thrilled to help.

now, though, the pleasant buzz of nature is satisfactory. the gardens and the orchard have remained untouched, though the greenhouse has been smashed completely. the remnants of glass glimmer on the sun-sparkled grass, a perfect spot to avoid as the pool beckons your return. not that mother's menagerie had been of much interest to anyone for years. the servants had tended to it, but it remained vacant of visitors, except the rare moments rabastan felt particularly sentimental. all those exotic butterflies spilled into the crisp, open air. it was quite magical. regulus was particularly down that evening.

of course, bella hadn't given much faff for any of it, so you don't dwell. a morning in the sun is a morning in the sun, after all. and, surely, if mother isn't to care for her property, then why should you?

"you recon sister will hire more staff?" you muse aloud. regulus has languidly settled under an olive tree, the leaves framing the thin, half-naked body like an all-too-pale depiction of pieta. his head hangs, the burn-warmed skin glowing, "without me to help she’ll hardly be able to manage all of these household duties."

regulus raises a brow at that, "what have you done exactly to help," the way he says it is half-chiding, half-mocking. as though he thinks that's the way to speak to the owner of the manor, "you blow up bookshelves."

you turn away from his stare, and keep yourself upright against the pool, knees scraping against the pebbles.

"well," you reply with a sniff, "if you had not noticed, she has taken a shine to me."

"shines are used for small jewels."

you hit his leg in a mindless display of violence.

his sharp inhale isn't playful – "what was that for?!"

"that was for talking down to me." you scoff. and his cheeks grow red, but not because you caught him in his error.

his next response is bitter. "i see how it is," the pitch of his voice rising ever-so-slightly, a subtle crack in a violin string, "you grow more pompous every day."

with his legs folded under his chin, arms crossed tightly, his discomfort in his position isn't masked as well as his emotion is. his wide eyes belie an even wider sadness. a hunger, a wanting for the type of affection a mother provides. something you'll never want to think too hard on because you understand, but also have been told by father not to ponder on.

"was that you attempting to speak down to me again?"

"no!" he snaps back, before muttering, "not that you wouldn't deserve it."

your temper has spiked. that isn't fair, what did he know of all that you must put up with! father expects a lot, and yet you are not given enough to do, but your brothers still complain at everything, and then you must put on a smiling face in front of bella, and how rude is he, really, to disrespect you so!

regulus doesn't receive a single hint of a reply from you. if his plan to make you more malleable to conversation wasn't working, he could start something of his own.

"have you made up your mind," the subject switch makes you jump, "about what house?"

oh. he hasn't stopped prodding since the end of june. that's almost cute of him.

"why are you obsessed about this?"

regulus makes a face. "don't try to understand. i just am," he pauses. for once, he regards you carefully, head tilting slightly to one side, "so you have made up your mind."

"slytherin sounds lovely," you admit, as you have been practising this speech in the mirror for a fortnight now. it feels more real coming out of your own mouth and not an apparition's. you could never admit to gryffindor, as your secret would unravel. regulus would spot his brother’s influence, and he would know, with certainty, that you prefer sirius to him. he must know already, but chooses to ignore it, like you chose to ignore all things inconvenient.

regulus stills for a moment. "wonderful," he comments, and resumes the snootiness of his demeanour, but more distant, "i'll definitely be in slytherin,"

yes, clearly, he would suit the snake very well. and he would fit in, like cissy. no matter the apparent fragility to him, it seems to be hiding a will stronger than all of yours combined. his eyes glitter and gleam when the sunlight hits them just right, but their core seems deeper, darker. no cracks or fissures. just an endlessness.

"and so would you," he finishes the sentiment.

"wh- whatever do you mean?!" you cry in his face, startled out of the depths of your musings.

"dear cousin," he simpers, "for how much time must your father spend pontificating on how utterly useless you are before you realise i'm in your same boat."

he may not mean it, but the insult is unbearable. and perhaps there's a sliver of truth that irks you. that your own kin think so lowly of your abilities. but, nonetheless, "behind my back, at least," you sound, "please, regulus, don't say such things to my face!"

he snorts, faintly amused at your ridiculousness, "will it make you feel better if i apologise?"

you huff. your pride has been bruised. he has, as always, thrown you into a sulk, which will be harder and harder to get over now. especially with you sitting a little more self-conscious than you had been ten minutes ago. and really, it had been such a pleasant afternoon. sweltering, and you bask in sunlight like you're famished for it. the rivera had been sweet, always bright and sunny, but england is hardly ever not gloomy. yes, the weather is worth more mental effort than regulus black, you decide. you would rather converse with a house-elf than him. he, yes, is useless, but you have some use, surely.

"think before you speak," you warn, not very menacingly, "honestly, if my life is already doomed, you'll not aid in ruining it any further."

"what life? father dotes on you endlessly. even if you've got not a single brain cell, he still fancies you," he drawls, "really, you're like a pet. a mooncalf. not a thought behind those eyes."

there it is. the nerve that tics. and though he'd spoken in a lazy, pensive drawl, your response is razor-edged and dagger-thorned. you're the blight. the aphids that sully. the plagues of locusts, “so what!" you counter, and you're barely standing on the border, "what is it my trouble? at least my father loves me, which is too much to say of your own."

regulus rises sharply. it is the fastest he's ever moved in all his life. that face would strike a serpent cold, you imagine. "take. that. back." his tone is chillingly even.

but a quick wit has always served you best, "no. not till you're nice to me."

"fine," the sun casts an angry, dark shadow of his figure over the pool. only eleven, yet he might be the most daunting creature you've ever encountered. all long lines, jutting ribs, and pale skin. and those eyes. downturned, forlorn. a regal hazel. the lids are flutter-thick.

the silence that settles is thick with discomfort. you think of your mother’s room at the top floor, how hot she must be with the heavy curtains drawn. it would be good to air it, lest she grows sicker from breathing in all of that old dust. yes, you shall let a servant know as soon as you finish chipping away at regulus’ resolve with your withering glare.

finally, slowly, carefully, "you won't tell mother i upset you, will you?"

"aunt walburga has much to preoccupy her. of course i won't."

he takes this as enough an acquiescence.

you find a part of him has softened. the edges, maybe.

"why should i apologise anyway," he adds, as if by way of an attempt at conversing in your manner, "the truth needs no apology."

his voice, not that of his father's but certainly not the poshest, has something odd about it.

he waits for a few more seconds, in what you gather, is a wait for an excuse to take the blow off of himself. you keep thinking, and these thoughts blunder quickly about. of mother’s room and father’s study, of rabby down in the cellar, of rodolphus prancing around his new wife. of sirius locked in his guest room, all of his muggle trinkets confiscated. sirius would have a laugh if he wasn’t too busy sulking. this impish row would cheer him up.

you've accepted the role now. it feels like a coronation. the signet ring would fit. pretty thing.

"regulus," you start, but can't keep your straight face. his stare bores into you, until the laugh finally escapes.

"you twit!" he accuses you, "i thought you were really angry for a moment! good thing i wouldn't actually worry, with how loose tongued you are. and stupid! to think, everyone always bellows about how pleasant and intelligent you are."

"could hardly be talking of me," you say, feeling not very bitter, but the taste of it is tart on the back of your tongue. this is a new pattern. a childish bickering, or even teasing, "i've never wanted to know anything. everyone else is terribly inquisitive."

regulus just eyes you in bewilderment. as though your view on the world is rather strange. regulus is fond of reading, and he has a plethora of curious facts to share to anyone who would listen. he had been more vocal of them when he was younger, but at eleven, he's growing very reserved and respectable.

to anyone but you, it seems, because he's rude and standoffish in your presence, even if his cheeks start to burn when you catch him staring at you. maybe you should've let him know. it'd be sweet to see his eyes widen in surprise, or his lips purse. that'd be worth all his rude jokes and unwarranted insults. his silence has allowed him to believe that all his sentiments are harmless. but they are not.

perhaps you are useless, not even a little bit useful at all, if a mere boy who's still gangly and graceless has you wound around his little finger, while not even knowing it. you can't decide if that's better or worse than knowing. it doesn't really matter anyway. when the family meetings took place late in the evening, and you were pointedly dismissed, you had decided you shan't ever want to know anything. to live in simple bliss of a fantasy, to enjoy what you're good at enjoying, and never touch the dirt of any of their messy problems. the end of childhood doesn't concern you, no more than any of the scandals you overhear and promptly ignore. gossip you adore, but only if it's mindless, like a poor matching colour of a robe.

the rest you are well off without.

pretty thing, mother had once called you when awake. her gaze had been vacant. you refused to decipher the meaning, if there was any to begin with. pretty things needn’t be sensible, they only need to be admired.

regulus offers you his hand. a rarity, him touching you, because he rarely is one for contact. especially with you, it had seemed. the small, slim fingers don’t tremble in their wait, "want to swim?"

your earlier mood melts away like the heat waves over the warm stone. the blood has flushed both your skins, but his more.

it's not important anyway.

"thought you don't like water," you say smugly, happy to lord over this very basic information you know of him over his head, "you'll look like a prune."

regulus wrinkles his nose in distaste at the idea. his pale complexion is so easy to scorch and scar. the redness blooms on him beautifully.

but then, all he says is, "you're my favourite, you know that, right? always have been."

the pleasantry, in such an instant, brings another surge of blood to your cheeks.

"why?" you have to know.

a shrug, then, a smile. not malicious at all, and you've always enjoyed it when he can't hold the pretences up in your company.

"dunno," and his expression goes blank again. his gaze roams somewhere far, "so do you want to go swimming?"

his offer has something more, and the confusion lingers.

"it is very hot," is all you find to say.

and what else, but to hold onto his outstretched palm?

[piscesirko]

could you pretty please write more costar!reader? you are amazing and so talented💖💖

HI HI THANK YOU FOR THE REQUEST i absolutely love costar!reader fics/blurbs❤️❤️

notes: bella is 18+, reader is an actor on tlou, kissing, all pronouns used

"bella!" you hiss. "stop it! i'm seriously starting to forget what the next line is."

"i'm sorry!" she’s in her ellie getup — hair in a ponytail, scruffy clothes, backpack on and all that. and hearing him speak in his accent as ellie seemed a bit funny. she laughs like she did nothing wrong, and in return she receives the finger from you. "ay, that's a bit rude."

bella’s not hurt or anything. they’re just messing with you. "what's rude is distracting me"

they make another face: tip of her tongue poking between her lips with squinted eyes and hands formed into the middle finger. but he obliges with a giggle and sits behind the camera, sparing your sanity as he lets you finish this one.

by the time the scene ends you're giving bella a soft punch on her shoulder. he winces, eyebrows furrowing. "what is that for?!"

"for making me butcher my scene," you shove her slightly. "i'll get back at you. just you wait."

they rolls their eyes at your threat, because they’re pulling on your belt loops, dirt on his face and hair all messy and tangled. they’re still handsome — freakishly attractive, even, as she kisses you as an apology.

she smiles against your lips, cheekily pocking her tongue in before she pulls back and tugs on the bottom of your shirt. "we'll see about that, baby."

"oh yeah?" you hum. you pull him into another kiss, smashing her nose on your cheek as he tilts his head sideways. he finally lets his tongue slip in, and you taste the faint flavor of the fruit snacks she ate earlier.

bella pokes on your side, wrinkling her nose at your squeal. "you better watch out, bubs."

[insufferableprotagonistpoll]

Propaganda why Bella Swan is insufferable:

She has the personality of a rock, but for some reason everyone is obsessed with her.

She spends the entirety of three books looking down on others, being completely braindead, worrying that she's old at age 18 for an entire book, has a horror movie pregnancyand birth, and then becomes the most specialist vampire to ever vampire. And through all that her personality and thought processes that she had page 1 of Twilight she has on the last page of Breaking Dawn.

Feels like low hanging fruit, but characters that are supposed to be self inserts will always be bland boring bad ideas if you want to make a truly interesting character. Especially self inserts that go along with things like stalking and abuse from their love interests for the sake of continuing the story, because it kinda makes them seem like a mannequin who just there to be passed around like the punching bag in super smash bros, you know what I mean

Propaganda why Y/N is insufferable:

I WOULD NOT FUCKING SAY THAT. they're always so bland and passive, idk how anyone could pretend to be them in the stories. and on the rare occasion someone does give them a bit of personality ITS JUST AN OC. GIVE THEM A NAME. I'd rather read about a thought out oc than a bland y/n.

They clog up the tumblr tags

They exist and that’s really upsetting

You, the reader, get to join the tournament!

I would not fucking say that

[lulublack90]

Prompt 15 - Posion

@jegulus-microfic February 15 Word count 991

Previous part First part

“Kreacher!” He called out as he entered Grimmauld Place. The house elf appeared at his side with a crack and bent low in a bow. 

“Yes, Master?” 

“Where are my parents?” He asked, praying they weren’t in the house. 

“They at the country Manor, Master.” The elf answered. 

“Good,” Regulus nodded. “Keep them there as long as you can. And if they try to return, tell them I have said I need the house.”

“Yes, Master.” Kreacher bowed again before disapparating. 

Regulus stumbled to the kitchen. He needed a drink. The fire had parched him. He summoned a bottle of butterbeer, removed the cork and took a swig. He immediately spat it out, coating the table in sticky spray. It tasted like poison. Gingerly, he sniffed the contents of the bottle. Yep, that wasn’t butterbeer. He poured it down the sink and got water instead. 

He wouldn’t have long before he was summoned, so he tried to collect himself. He’d have liked to find Evan and Barty and check on them, but he wouldn’t have time to track them down. He assumed Evan had taken Barty to his house rather than back to Barty Sr. 

He dropped his glass when his left forearm suddenly shot through with burning pain. He was being summoned to Malfoy Manor. 

He cleared away the mess he’d made and left the house to apparate. 

Voldemort was in a rage when he arrived. He was storming around the formal dining room with the ginormous mahogany table. 

“We have a spy! Someone has tipped them off about our plan!” He spun when Regulus entered. “Come here, Master Black.” Regulus didn’t hesitate and strode straight to Voldemort’s side. Clawed hands shot up and dug into his face as Voldemort drove into his head for the second time that day. 

This time, he pulled Regulus’s mind apart slower, still painful, maybe more painful than before, but he lingered in each memory, looking for any signs that Regulus had told the Order something. Regulus had those memories well hidden, and because of his mother’s relentless drills when he was younger, he was always on guard for legimency attacks.

“My Lord,” Lucius Malfoy spoke, unexpectedly coming to Regulus’s defence. “It is doubtful that he could have told anyone when the attack was happening. We were with him when he found out we were going today, and it was you yourself that put the charms on Grimmauld Place, stopping owls and patronuses from leaving or entering the property.” Voldemort dropped Regulus’s face.

“Yessss, I suppose you do have a point.” He hissed. “I want whoever revealed our plans to the Order found, Lucius.” 

“Of course, my Lord.” Lucius bowed deeply, reminding Regulus of Kreacher. Lucius wrapped an arm around Regulus’s shoulder and steered him away towards Narcissa. 

Narcissa fussed over him, straightening his robes and smoothing his shirt collar before he batted her away. 

“Leave him be, Narcissa.” Lucius hissed through his teeth at his wife. Regulus ignored them, looking around the room as he silently counted how many death eaters returned and which important names were left. A lot were missing. 

Bellatrix came smashing through the door, throwing a fit, Rabastan following close behind. Evidently, Rodolphus had been captured. 

She stormed towards Voldemort. 

“My Lord! They have Rodolphus!” Voldemort stopped any further words from escaping Bella’s mouth by flicking his hand out and wrapping it around her throat. 

“I do not care about your husband. I want to know who betrayed me!” Bellatrix clawed at his hand as he squeezed tighter, his face twisting into a sneer. Nobody helped her lest they incur Voldemort’s wrath themselves. When she stopped struggling, he tossed her onto the floor, where she gasped, trying to force air into her bruised throat. 

Regulus felt the mirror in his pocket heat as James tried to contact him. He had insisted they add this charm to the mirror rather than have the caller’s voice call out. This would be a dead giveaway if, like now, whoever had the other mirror tried to get in contact. He had to ignore the caller, even though his fingers itched to open the small compact. 

When it was clear that no more death eaters would be coming, Voldemort began digging through all their brains, looking for the traitor. He found nothing, which only incensed him more. 

“Where are Rosier and Crouch? I don’t recall them being in the later part of the attack.” Regulus stepped forward, putting on his best aristocratic mask. 

“Forgive me, my Lord, but Bartemius was injured, and I told Evan to get him away from the battle.”

“And what gives you the authority to give those orders, young master Black?” Voldemort’s red eyes seemed to glow as he questioned Regulus.

“You yourself told us that Bartemius was useful to our cause, and I determined that you would prefer that his father not found out he was there.” Voldemort’s face split into an approximation of a smile. 

“And that is why we have missed you greatly since you have been away, dear Regulus.” He turned to the rest of his congregation. “You see, Regulus here sees the bigger picture. We may have lost this battle, but we shall still win this war.” Cheers erupted once Voldemort had finished his speech. “You may leave me. I require time to plan our next move.” The death eaters hurried from the room, whispering amongst themselves, trying to guess who the traitor could be. 

Regulus positioned himself amongst the exiting death eaters and left quickly. 

As soon as he was locked in his bedroom and had cast silencing charms, he pulled out the small silver mirror and whispered. 

“James?” James’s image immediately showed in the mirror, replacing his own. 

“Reg! Reg, are you alright? You didn’t answer!” He sounded panicked, his eyes overly bright. Regulus felt a tightening in his chest as the need to be in James’s arms took over. 

“Can we meet?”  

Next part

[prettypinkporkchop]

hi !! if it's not too much trouble, can i request a quil x reader where they just got together after finding out she's his imprint and they're at the graduation party at the cullens, when they find out about victoria and her army, and reader's really pissed at bella and jacob for "making" the wolves fight as well

You stand there, pissed. You couldn't believe what's really happening. You are staring at Bella, zoned out with anger. You can see Edward next to her, staring right back at you. "No." You turn to Quil. Everyone looks at you. "I'm not a shifter or a vampire, but can't we all see that this wouldn't be happening if Bella wasn't involved with you guys." You snap. Edward stands up warningly. "Don't you think I already feel guilty enough?" Bella spits. "Not guilty enough!" You yell. "Woah, baby." Quil grabs you into him.

Quil takes your hand as you guys leave the party. "Y/n, you can't jump into our fights." Jacob warns. "Not really your place to tell me that. And it's your fault we are in this mess." Quil grabs Jacob's shoulder. "Hey, she's my imprint." He warns. "I need to talk to you... alone." You gesture toward Jacob and Embry. Quil looks at you with a knowing face. "Okay. Let's walk back this way." He takes your hand and leads you the opposite way of where Jake and Embry are walking. "We'll make it to the same place." He affirms.

Once you guys get far enough and are in the trees, you stop walking. He turns back, looking at you. You two are standing so close. You want to kiss him and make all of this disappear.

"Quil, i.." You start and then sigh. He lightly grabs your chin, "Baby, I won't judge you."

"I'm very, very, very mad at Bella. I'm also mad at Jacob. Because of her, all of this is happening. Now, you guys are involved because of Jake!" You blurt out. "Hey, hey. You know I won't get hurt." He cooes. You groan and push him away slightly. "I know that! She's just so... UGH! And there's always a possibility, Quil. You're stronger than strong, but you're not invincible." He puts a finger to your lips. "Jake is coming. Please, don't be angry with him." He says very sweetly. Within seconds, sticks snap. "Oh, you're angry with me? You know nothing about being a shifter." Jacob snorts. Quil pushes him back. "Don't fucking push my buttons, Black. Don't you ever talk to her like that." Quil growls. You get in between them and stare up at Jacob. "This is all because of your stupid ass refusing to get over a mediocre leech lover! Don't make this everyone's problem!" You yell and point your finger in his face.

Embry grabs Jacob's arm as he starts to get mad. "Jake, leave it alone. C'mon." Embry tries. Jake begins to walk away. Embry faces you with a sad look. "I understand, y/n. I agree with you there, sister." He smiles and follows Jake. Quil softly grabs your arm and pulls you into him. "Let's go home." He picks you up and carries you.

You stare up at Quil and softly trace over his face. Your back is on the bed while he's leaning on the headboard of your bed. "You're so beautiful." He whispers. "Don't go." You beg. He looks so torn. He sighs before pulling you on him. "Babe, if I could change all of this, I would. But, this is part of being an imprint. I hate it. I hate it for you. You're not alone. Emily has been going through this for a good while. She can help you! I can promise you, I'll always return. Always." You watch his brown eyes become emotional. No tears, but you know he's holding them back. You lean down and smash your lips on his. He instantly kisses you back. His lips are soft, and his skin is burning into you. You kiss with more passion, gliding your tongue into his mouth. He kisses back using his tongue too. His breath is so yummy. You bring your fingers into his hair and softly pull. He grunts and kisses you harder.

YUP.

[ericdeggans]

My List of the Best TV in 2023: An Abundance of Quality Even in Adversity

What’s the surest proof that there truly is too much television available these days?

The fact that, even though 2023 featured historic performers and writers strikes in Hollywood which crippled film and TV production for months, there was still enough great series and projects to fill an entire notebook page.

Way too many, in fact, for me to cover in my small part of NPR’s awesome annual listing of the best TV and film of the year, compiled among six different critics. It’s one reason the strikes went on so long in the first place – for fans of great TV, it didn’t really seem like much changed, as streaming services kept dropping cool stuff, thanks to their long production lead times.

Ironically, viewers may notice the strikes’ impact more next year – in part, because a lot of cool TV shows left us in 2023 (pour one out for Barry, The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel, The Crown, Reservation Dogs, Succession, and, possibly, Ted Lasso) and also because the streamers will spend some time rebuilding lineups which got depleted.

Here, where I have a lot more room is my highly subjective and surprisingly long list of the Best TV of 2024:

TOP PICK - Succession – A show which perfectly captured how the dysfunctions of wealthy families can impact the world delivered a note-perfect finale that surprised – though I did predict Tom would win out – and yet felt completely inevitable. All while the world was second-guessing and writing their own endings. Masterful.

The Last of Us – Who knew reinventing the zombie apocalypse story was simple as coming up with a new cause – fungus, eww! – and the willingness to hand big chunks of the story over to compelling, fully drawn supporting characters. Doesn’t hurt to have ultimate zaddy Pedro Pascal and precocious acting genius Bella Ramsey on the case, either.

The Bear - Speaking of compelling supporting characters…this show’s second season sparkled by giving the other employees in Carmy’s greasy spoon-becoming-a-great-restaurant lots of narrative room. But it took flight with unexpected, brilliant cameos from Jon Bernthal, Olivia Colman, Oliver Platt, Bob Odenkirk, Sarah Paulson, and the legendary Jamie Lee Curtis.

Reservation Dogs – Proof of the amazing, authentic, original stories which come from letting indigenous people tells their own stories, smashing together a crushing realism with the sense that a jarring visit from the spirit world is always around the next corner.

Fargo – Not sure I love the ultimate message on the healing power of suburban, white, upper middle class Midwestern family life (or what happens to the one major Black character). But crackling performances from Juno Temple, Jon Hamm, Jennifer Jason leigh and Dave Foley make this year’s installment the best version in many years.

Shrinking – An emotional and truly funny comedy that reminds us how hilarious Harrison Ford and Jessica Williams can be while not making us spend too much time on Jason Segel’s angsty privileged white guy shtick.

Star Trek: Strange New Worlds – The TV series which scored the most by taking the boldest swings, leaning into Trek’s original heritage as an adventure-of-the-week which told the most ambitious stories on the small screen.

(The dancing, dubstepping, boy band-style Klingons on Strange New Worlds powered my favorite TV scene of the year.)

Star Trek: Picard – Yeah, I put TWO Trek series here, because everyone else in critic-land seems to be sleeping on the fact that they made more than one excellent season of a new Trek series filled with nods to what came before, including this show, which reunited the Next Generation cast in a storyline basically about old people saving the universe from young, clueless, mind-controlled pawns.

Barry – Wasn’t thrilled about how grim this series’ finale eventually became. But respected the fact that co-creator/star Bill Hader never shied away from the fact that the show was going to be his laboratory for all the directing and storytelling tricks he ever wanted to try, and a dark comedy about a hitman-turned-actor has to be seriously dark to mean something.

Beef – A road rage incident becomes a crackling, entertaining look at everything from Asian family culture to Elon Musk-level mogul dysfunction while also proving my girl Ali Wong can act her ass off.

Still: A Michael J. Fox Story – While other celebrities are executive producing documentaries to show how legendarily cool they are, Fox helped create an up close look at his struggle with Parkinson’s disease which show how hard it is to put on socks and take a walk on a new York street without crashing to the ground right in front of a concerned fan.

Only Murders in the Building – A comedy about over-privileged crime podcasters in an Upper West side apartment building should not stay entertaining over three seasons. But this show pulls it off, tossing in against-the-grain cameos by Paul Rudd and Meryl Streep that provide the best icing on a very fine cake.

Slow Horses – This show about a department filled with failed British intelligence agents not only subverts the spy genre, it subverts the satires which originally subverted classic spy dramas, like Get Smart. Topped by mesmerizing performances from Gary Oldman and Kristin Scott Thomas, I would have subtitled this one, Get Smarter.

Happy Valley - This series about an experienced, ball-busting divorced single mom of a police sergeant in a mid-size town in Britain notched an underappreciated series finale featuring the amazing Sarah Lancashire as Catharine Cawood, finally confronting the man she blamed for her daughter’s suicide and her grandson’s emotional turmoil.

BS High – A great documentary often tells a story which keeps going deeper and better, like a descent into a spellbinding madness. This film achieved that by giving center stage to master manipulator/football coach Roy Johnson, who got ESPN to air a game featuring his Bishop Sycamore High School team; the film contends their crushing loss eventually exposed that the school didn’t really exist.

I’m a Virgo – Creator and activist Boots Riley made an urban parable where Black excellence became superpowers and the world’s exploitive class came for a 13-foot-tall Black teen played by the always compelling Jharrel Jerome. Always inspiring to see how Boots turns mainstream media’s tropes and expectations against itself.

[bl00dlight]

about people who think you're unfair when it comes to depicting aemond... are just delusional who mayhaps read aemond x reader or fanfictions or some headcanons... aemond is and will always be a villainous person, when he was a kid he wanted to bash the head of his nephew with a rock ( this resulting in him losing an eye and he deserves it, sorry nog sorry ) + his pursue for powers will be his well-deserved downfall. he's a raging misognist like the rest of the entire family, like... aww he is crying when helaena bluntly tells him the truth ? hope he'll rot with his guilt. you are totally right, he's a piece of shit and i can't wait to see his demise.

I mean AHAHAHAHAHHAHA. Speak your truth diva.

Look I love Aemond. Okay... let me just say.

BUT, yes no you're right like. He is fucking awful and the worst. And I do want to see him rot with his guilt a little, especially what he did to Helaena. Like I love him, and I understand him. And I do feel sympathy for him.

If I was Helaena would I have have said yes before he'd been finished his sentence? Yes. Would I have girl bossed it and proposed to him like Rhaenyra did to Daemon? Yes. Would I hypothetically let this fictional man suck and fuck on me?.... undeniably. Is this a parasocial relationship? Yes.

But it's undeniable that so many girlies on here fucking act like tradwives defending their right wing, MRA adjacent, wife beating man. Like you can want to cook him dinner and also call him out for genocide. Really gets me concerned about... well... how some of yall interact with men irl. A man like Aemond irl, is an incel.

Someone said this on reddit about the balcony scene, that it was like when an incel goes up to his crush to try and get her to be on his side before he shoots up a school. And AHAHHA exactly.

They act as if Aemond is indeed a victim through and through, who has done no wrong and is a sweetypie. And is it self insert fluff fics fault? Yes it is. People are attracted to Ewan... and their idea of Aemond. Not really Aemond as he is. And many don't want to interact with analysis of his character. Which is fine. No hate, you do you. But it is a problem when others make it fans like myself, problem.

And as someone with a disorganised attachment style? As someone who upon watching the Harry Potter series as a child who had their sexual awakening upon seeing both Draco and Luicus Malfoy. As someone who has been a Sharpay Evans defender since it came out and as someone who agreed with Rosalie Cullen that Bella was a boring ass... whiny as bitch....

I gotta say? Mean, evil and toxic platinum blondes? I'm here for them and I love them. And I am basically attracted to Aemonds character/interested in him because of the fact he is a fucking asshole. Okayyyy soooooo. Don't get me wrong I love the idea of soft, vunerable Aemond. But I can only love that because it's a rare thing for him. Because he's main mode is acting like a horror movie villain. I've always been about that life of loving dark characters. It seems many upon here are just... well... they find him hot and wanna smash. Which is valid. But it's not valid to project your personal sexual/romantic fantasies onto other fans who are just... discussing canon characteristics of Aemond.

And even reddit neckbeards do it to because they relate to Aemond. They'll swear he was this valiant, dutiful, scorned boy. They'll swear he wasn't a Valyrian supremacist. They'll swear he would never hurt or betray his family. But it's like? So basically how the fuck does someone campaign for the fucking third reich *House Strong Edition* be day and be a loving family man by night who would never betray his family if he felt abandoned/humiliated or hurt by them? So you know... the fanboys who thump the book like it's the bible also are FUCKING ANNOYING.

It's actually crazy.

[thetardisisnotourdivision]

Everything I Know About Twilight (I've never read the books OR watched the films)

They're all EXTREMELY Catholic/Mormon.

Edward and Bella are. Boring.

And also like the worst characters in the whole thing.

There's loads of really cool supporting characters.

Bella and Alice are basically a couple. And have like. Way more chemistry than anyone else.

Bella is "not like other girls"

The werewolf guy is for some reason in love with Ratatouille or whatever the fuck the baby is called (a LITERAL infant)

Edwards immediate reaction to Bella is to cover his nose (which is fucking hilarious)

One of the Cullens became a vampire because he fought a bear too hard

They… Can't eat food?

The books are Painful

The movies are WORSE

I'm not even going to go into the honeymoon thing bc it all freaks me out anyway and this? This is just too much.

LOTS of weird religious subtext.

By subtext I mean Chibnall levels of subtlety (smashing-people-in-the-face-with-a-sledgehammer style)

Apparently there are lines about collarbones being exposed and Edward being attractive in khakis. Again, weird Mormon subtext.

Bella nearly dies like. Too much.

There's a bit where Eddie tries to kill himself in the most EXTRA way possible.

The town is called Forks

Vampires ✨SPARKLE✨

"Hold on tight, spider-monkey" ?!

Weird age gaps are all👏the👏rage👏

Full on glorification of abusive relationships

Apparently Fifty Shades is based off it like literal fanfiction

Bella's dad is low-key trying to murder Edward

The baby grows up REAL quick

There's a whole fight sequence that just. Didn't really happen.

Everything's filmed with a really weird filter?

Edward is SO Catholic

The Cullens suck at pretending to be human.

[estelle-skully]

Lunch Period

JUMPSCARES YOU WITH A LITTLE NIGHTMARES TWORD FIC HAHAHA

I think Im slipping back into my LN phase from two thousand fucking twenty two so you know what that means 😈

we got ourselves some lee!Mono ain’t that just peachy

Summary: This is based off the scene in LN 2 where Mono has to sneak past the bullies in the cafeteria while wearing a porcelain head to disguise himself, except these little shits decide that they want to pick on him for being not quite as rowdy as they are…

This was a very overwhelming moment for Mono.

The only other kid (who wasn’t evil) he had met was just taken away by a group of strange doll-like demon children, and now he was about to enter a room full of them.

Just a moment ago, Mono smashed the heads of three of them with a very heavy hammer. What if the others wondered where their friends were?

Then again, it didn’t seem like they were paying much attention to… anything. Seems like their only purpose is to break shit and be loud. That’s a little convenient. He took off his paper bag, stuffing it into an inner pocket of his jacket, and placed the one mostly-intact doll head onto his own head. It had a large crack through it that he could see through. That should be a good enough disguise. Surely, the porcelain kids wouldn’t notice that he isn’t in school uniform, right?

Taking a deep breath, he ducked under a table that separated the cafeteria from the kitchen and entered the din of the crowd. There were at least a hundred, but they were all doing their own thing, for the most part… dancing on tables, beating each other up, kicking things over… he should be able to just sneak past…

“Oof!” Mono stumbled to the side, having to steady his porcelain mask with his hand before it fell off, and looked to his left. One of the bullies had shoved him and was chuckling, pointing at him and staring at him with that terrifying permanent grin. But when it-or he? Whatever- didn’t walk away, Mono decided he needed to say something to seem like a legitimate student at this twisted school.

“Uhh… howdy howdy, rowdy rowdy, I’m here to cause some shenanigans!” He exclaimed, talking with his voice slightly higher pitched to sound more like the laughing and screaming kids around him. But when the kid in front of him stayed silent, and tilted their head to the side, Mono realized that he had sold the bag.

“Are you from this school?” The kid asked, it’s voice echoey and hollow sounding. “Somethin’ seems off about ya…”

“No, I go here! What are you talking about! I.. uhh.. I lost.. I-I mean, I burned my school uniform! Because, um. Y’know…” Mono trailed off because he had a feeling that the kid in front of him didn’t believe a word he was saying. “Whelp, uh, yeah! Gotta go break stuff! Bye!” He tried stepping around the kid but was blocked by two others, staring at him with similar plastered-on smiles and tilted heads. He stepped back but the kid from before pushed him forward. He gasped. One of them looked pretty identical to the first guy- the only difference was that he had a large crack that ran through one of his hollowed out, black, soulless eyes, while the other one’s face was almost perfect. The second one, on the other hand, looked more like a girl.

“You must be a new kid…” the first guy said, now slowly stepping toward him, which caused him to accidentally back into the other two. The more masculine looking one grabbed his arms, holding them behind his back, while the feminine one giggled. The porcelain mask slipped down a bit on his head, slightly obscuring his vision through the crack, but that was the least of his concerns right now. Were they about to beat him up, like how he had seen some others do to random kids? Maybe if he made a run for it when they least expected…

He jolted when the feminine bully poked his ribs.

“What’s your name, new kid?” She asked, leaning close.

“uhh…”

“My name is Bella. And this is my brother, Billy, and-“

“And my name is Pip.” The first bully interjected. Mono assumed that if these doll children were able to make any other facial expression besides a creepy grin, Pip and Bella would be shooting daggers at each other. While they were busy staring at each other, Mono tried jerking away, but Billy’s grip tightened. (He was at least thankful that they had forgotten about finding out his name.)

“Where do you thing you’re going, new kid?” He asked, his voice nearly identical to Pip’s. “Yeah, where do you think you’re going?” Bella sneered, poking him again, but this time on the belly. Mono couldn’t help but yelp, and he was thankful for the mask that hid the blush he could feel creeping onto his cheeks.

“Hehe, that was funny,” Bella said, now starting to poke and prod ad Mono’s torso repeatedly.

“A-ah! Wihill you s-stahap that?” He exclaimed, trying to squirm away again, but Billy was terrifyingly strong. “Pff- knohohock it ohoff!”

“This is fun!” Bella said, ignoring him.

“The new kid’s ticklish, huh?” Pip cooed in a teasing voice that Mono hated. “We can have fun with that…” He took one step closer, ignoring any protests from Mono, and shoved his hands under the poor boy’s arms, wiggling his fingers into his armpits. That broke him.

“NOHOHOHOHO!” Mono laughed out loud, attracting the attention of the nosy kids around him who stopped what they were doing to watch. Mono didn’t notice, though. He was too busy dying when Bella started squeezing his sides. Billy chuckled at Mono’s reactions to the tickling.

Mono thrashed wildly, and at this point Billy was actually struggling to keep him still.

“Hey, you know what, you’re actually chill, new kid.” Pip said. Bella nodded in agreement, moving her attack to Mono’s belly, which caused him to try to bend forward to protect the sensitive spot. She hummed while tickling him as if it was a casual thing.

“And the fact that you burned your uniform? Damn! Even I don’t have the courage for that! But wait till the teacher finds out… ohoho, you’re dead meat, new kid!” Pip continued yapping, now scribbling at the backs of Mono’s ribs.

It wasn’t very long after that (no more than 50 seconds) when they heard Mono’s laughter become more wheezy and exhausted sounding. That’s when they stopped. Didn’t want to kill him, after all.

“You okay?” Bella asked. Billy released him and he nearly collapsed to the floor, holding on to his porcelain disguise. He took a moment to regain his composure before nodding, and before they could say anything else, he scurried away through the crowd.

“Wait, what was his name?” Bella asked the other two. They both shrugged.

Meanwhile, Mono had made it out of the cafeteria safely, with all of his limbs still on his body and everything. He took off the porcelain head and dropped it to the floor. Then he kicked it away. He felt a great relief getting to wear his bag again.

As he continued through the school halls, he thought about how he had just gotten his shit wrecked. Honestly, if it wasn’t by terrifying glass doll children, he would have enjoyed it more. He hadn���t laughed like that in a long time.

And as he thought of how nice the feeling was, he also thought of someone he knew deserved to laugh too; Six. He hurried a little, now even more motivated than ever to find his missing friend.

🦾🦾🦾

Bazinga that’s it!!!!!!!!! I hope you liked the surprise

if I feel like it I might write a sequel to this who knows