#he kills people but c’mon he’s just a silly guy

[roseywastaken]

c!dream ballpen sketch 💚

[xzaddyzanakinx]

Not That Kind of Guy

Part One: Stalker!Anakin Skywalker x femme reader series

Warnings: stalking, weirdo behavior, psychotic/delusional behavior, possessive/protective, sexism/misogyny, one-sided relationship [eventual warning for smut; be sure to pay attention to future warnings in the series]

Info: Anakin loves you so much it hurts, he just really wants to make sure your silly little girl brain doesn’t get in the way of your safety, you have a cat, Anakin is a bartender [diary entries from Ani’s perspective] MDNI 18+

Diary Entry: May 2nd

The Cerulean was filled with loud music, flashing lights, and the stench of sweaty guys and spilt beer. Over-kill perfume on the girls who so desperately wanted my attention, writing their numbers on their drink coasters after finishing their stupid little cocktail. The occasional ‘break it up guys, c’mon’ yelled out at a pair of ‘roided up college boys. Peanut shells stuck to my sneakers at the end of the night, going home and washing off the stickiness from working behind the bar.

All things I was used to.

But you… not you. Every time I caught a glimpse of you tonight it was like the first time all over again.

Pink, skirt, sneakers, crop top. Such a cute little outfit; it made you easy to spot, easy to track, easy to watch over.

I have your drink order memorized. I so hoped you’d come back for another so I could hear your voice, to see your pretty little lips move just for me again. But you didn’t. Because you’re a smart girl. You knew that without a man around to look out for you, you’d be pretty hopeless if you got too tipsy. It only made me want to protect you more. You’re too soft, too sweet, too innocent to worry about the big nasty world around you.

That’s my job now.

I’ll always keep you safe, but I also want to keep you happy. You deserve the world and more, and I’ll give it to you.

I’d destroy the earth to build it up again in your design. I’d live for you, serve you, die for you, at any moment you might ask. Just say the word and I will. I promise I will.

Note: Motion sensors

Date:

May 23rd

Anakin walked a safe distance behind you, his hands in his hoodie pocket, his hood up and head down. It was dark out, the only light was from the street lamps.

Sometimes when he walked you home he just wanted to run up and grab you by the shoulders and shake you; ask you to please for once just pay attention to your surroundings.

You walked around with your headphones in, ignoring everything and everyone. Yeah it was a straight shot to your apartment from the bar. Only having to cross the road once during the mile long journey down the sidewalk. But a mile was a good stretch of space and there were plenty of people who passed you. A handful of creepy, unlit alleyways you could be dragged into.

You were practically asking for it.

He just had to remind himself that this was just another reason you were so lucky to have him. He’d watch over you, so you didn’t have to worry your pretty little head about nothin’.

Anakin stood by the corner store dumpster and watched as you trotted up the steps and tapped the door code into the keypad of your apartment building. After the door shut behind you and he saw the keypad flash red, he knew you were safely locked inside.

It took approximately one minute and 14 seconds for you to jog up the steps to your door, depending on how tired you were he could add a few seconds and not worry. But anything over 20 seconds had him sweating in a panic.

Tonight though you were right on time, his phone pinged with an alert that your door had been opened, and successfully shut behind you. Now he could breathe a sigh of relief and make his way back to work.

His boss was kind enough to never question why he skipped out for about 20 minutes a night or two a week. Anakin smoked, it wasn’t unlikely to assume he just got a little distracted scrolling on his phone during his smoke break or maybe just needed a few minutes of peace.

Now all he had to do was suffer through three more hours of monotonous work and try not get a head start on his hearing loss from the shitty music.

Then he could go home to you.

The cloak of stress he wore when you were out of sight vanished quickly when he perched on the fire escape and peered into your living room. Poor thing. You’d fallen asleep on the couch again.

Not that he minded. It made his night that much better when he could sit closer to you. It was a pain to climb the ladder of the building next door and sit on the rooftop so he could see into your bedroom window. Very inconvenient, but worth it everytime.

He sat quietly, observing you and the way your lips twitched while you slept, as though you were having a conversation with someone in your dreams. Probably him, he thought.

“Oh, your blanket… you’re gonna be cold if you keep squirming around like that, your blanket is gonna end up in the floor.”

His fingers itched to pry open the window and tuck you back in, but he didn’t. He promised himself he wouldn’t do that. No breaking and entering.

He decided it was time to head back to his own home after that, he couldn’t stay much longer without: a) falling asleep b) forcing his way into your apartment for the sake of keeping you warm.

So he trekked to the sidewalk, wiping off the rust stains on his palms from the old metal fire escape. Shoving his hands back into his hoodie pocket after blowing you a goodnight kiss.

Diary Entry: June 6th

You owe me big time young lady.

You left your door unlocked and your window cracked open. It is 3:00am, what if someone snuck in? Then what would I do?

Die probably. I’d probably die if something happened to you.

Therefore, I bit the bullet and helped you out. I’m lucky you’re a heavy sleeper and I’m not easy to startle or else we both would’ve had a big scare tonight.

I cracked open your window, slipped in quietly, lowered it behind me, locked it. Double checked it and then triple checked it just in case.

When I turned around- christ that fucking cat. I swear I saw my life flash before my eyes. Guard dog? Who needs a guard dog when you’ve got that monster running around?

A quick blur of orange and a loud *reeeareow* was the only warning before it- sorry, Boogie, climbed up my leg with her little pitchfork claws. I handled it well, you’d be proud. I picked her up by the scruff and gave her a light bop on the noggin’ just like you do when she’s in trouble; except I didn’t kiss it better afterwards, I think she would’ve eaten me if I tried that.

Any-who, I carried her with me to the kitchen and got her a little treat from the cutesy kitten jar on the countertop. Then she decided we could be friends or well… maybe or maybe not I don’t really know, I guess we’ll see.

I plucked your spare key from the top of the fridge and quietly left your apartment. I locked the door and checked it several times, just in case.

As I walked down the steps I saw that the super was kind enough to leave a reminder that the keypad code had been changed, how nice of him! You are awfully forgetful sometimes. No worries princess I took a picture for safe keeping.

I need to change the batteries on or door sensors soon anyway, those little button batteries don’t last very long you know.

It was only when I got home that I realized I still had your spare key… tsk tsk Anakin. Ah well, that just means it won’t fall into the hands of someone it shouldn’t. I’ll keep it safe.

I love you 🖤

Diary Entry: June 7th

You know, come to think of it. Now that I have a key I should get a few new items for your apartment, that way I can keep an eye on things for you while you’re away.

Note: Hd1080p microcam x4

There will be a bot to go along with this series! This is really short compared to my usual posts: I just wanted to give all my little lovelies a snippet of what’s to come.

Part Two

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[spctrsgf]

rocks and faulty plans

summary: you and poe make an unexpected stop to a rocky planet. with a broken ship.

-> based off this prompt

words: 1.3k

a/n: heeeeeeeey guys 😅😅 i will be more active soon I PRAY but here is a silly drabble i wrote i miss my silly space pilot :((

You’re not really sure why you even listened to him in the first place. You knew that beside all of his cockiness, he had some sort of planning skills and a desire to not kill the both of you, but it wasn't all that apparent in your current situation.

The rocky terrain of the planet you'd landed on– an unplanned detour– was harder to navigate than you'd thought when you were back on the ship. Despite this fact, your companion was already several steps ahead, trekking along the curve of a particularly large rock.

You groan loudly, hoping he hears your disdain as you tug on the collar of your jumpsuit and double your speed to catch up to him. The burst of energy from your fiery anger is, much to your dismay, hardly enough to last for longer than twenty seconds. A burn in your leg ignites the gravel beneath your feet, sending you stumbling.

“You okay down there?” Calls that ever so taunting tone. You glare up at his figure, backlit by the red sun. Still several steps ahead. “Oh fuck off, would you?” You snap, glancing down at the beads of blood forming along the scrape of your leg. 

He laughs. “It's okay, baby, it happens to all of us. Even me.”

You raise your eyebrows at him. 

He shrugs back. How does he manage to admit fault cockily?

“Using pet names to hide your concern, I see.”

He tuts, but says nothing to dispute your claim, heading towards you. 

“I can get up myself, Poe.” You snarl at him.

“I think the rocks would beg to differ.”

“Would it kill you to not tease me?”

He grins. “In an instant.”

You roll your eyes, but grab the hand he had extended out to you and let him help you up. He pulls you forward, seemingly only letting go of your hand when he realized he had been holding it for so long. The two of you trek together to the top of the rock, not sharing anything but the oxygen during sharp breaths. 

It was a weirdly serene moment with him. Poe wasn't necessarily a man of little or many words, but it wasn't often that you saw him comfortable in the silence. Especially in your current… predicament. You’d half expected him to spend the whole adventure talking your ear off about the ten billion plans you knew he had thought of, but he remained quiet.

You suppose you could chalk it up to the view. It was nothing short of breathtaking. The small town below was bustling about, nestled among the rocks that spiked out of the ground. The light from the sun cast a loving red sheen on the whole scene, cupping the inhabitants and painting them friendly. It was difficult to even consider looking away from. 

Yeah, that was probably Poe’s silencer.

You smile, letting him bask in the scenery before you shove his shoulder, beginning to head towards the town. “C’mon, pretty boy, stop gawking and get a move on! We don't have all day.” He scoffed. “I was not gawking, it's just-” he runs a hand down his face, “it's been a while since I've seen a view like that.”

“Space just isn't quite like this, is it?” 

“Not quite. A lot more black.” He says, finally catching up to you.

You snort. “That's true. It's calming in its own way, isn't it?”

“Yeah. If it weren't for our current situation, I’d spend a couple days here. Nice vacation.”

“You deserve that.” The words leave your mouth before you can take a second to think about them. Shit.

But Poe doesn't tease, he just smiles wide. “Thank you.”

You roll your eyes playfully. “But, back to business-”

“Here we go."

“Hey!” You glare, and he quickly quiets. “What are we gonna do? Just ask one of these people if they can walk however long with whatever tools they need to fix our ship?”

“Well, that was plan D in my extensive list of ideas.”

“Oh, and what about the other ones?” You indulge, curious.

“Well, plan A was to not crash on the planet in the first place, but you can see how well that went.” He grumbles.

“We tried our best.”

“I know,” he sighs, running a hand down his face, again. “Rest of my plans weren't quite as good.”

“Doubt that. Let's try plan E.” You quip, seeing how close the two of you were to the town.

He shrugs easily. “Let's.” 

You watch him gather his confidence and paint it across his face, and with that, the two of you make your way into the town. You trail a few steps behind him, letting “plan E” fall into place. He makes his way into a bar, leaning against the counter and motioning for you to do the same.

As you copy him, he leans over, whispering, “just go with it, okay?” You nod, locking your jaw to stop yourself from yelping when his hand wraps around your waist. “Hey, bartender!” He yells, catching their attention. “What can I get for you today, sir?” 

“My fiancé and I are here trying to get to the next planet in your system, but our ship crashed. Would you happen to have something that could help us?”

The bartender tilts his head to the side. “You do realize this is a bar, right?”

“I’m willing to bet you see most of this town here. So if anyone knows of someone who can help us, it's you.”

“Sure, a lot of people come in here, but I just serve drinks. Can I get you two anything?”

“Sir, please-”

“Listen here, outsider,” the bartender leans over the counter, and you can smell the alcohol he'd surely downed earlier. “I’ve been gracious enough to not kick you two out of my bar as soon as you didn’t place an order, because you and your fiancé seem like respectable people. But this is a busy bar, so if you're not going to buy a drink, get the fuck out of my bar before I have someone make you.”

“All we need is one address!”

“Last chance, sir.” The man gnarls at you two.

“Okay,” you jump in, taking Poe’s hand off your waist and pulling him away from the bartender. “Thank you for your help!”

You drag the two of you out of the bar before either man could exchange any more malicious words. Poe struggles, clearly trying to make his plan work. It was obvious he had more things to say– or do– to the bartender, but eventually he gives in to your pulling, trailing behind you. 

“So much for plan E.” You grumble as soon as you aren't in earshot of the bar. “I could have made that work! He would've listened to me.” Poe grumbles right back. 

“You and I both know that isn't true.” 

He sighs. “Yeah.”

“What is it with him anyways?” You question, making sure your voice was low and there wasn't anyone around before continuing. “He was so much meaner than anyone else we've seen.”

“Bad day, maybe? They could not get many visitors here.”

“Or too many.” You add in.

He smiles. “Or too many. Maybe he's struggling to make ends meet.”

“That's also true,” you sigh in defeat. “But it doesn't solve our problem.”

He shakes his head. "Let's just move on to plan F. F stands for fabulous."

"The way all your other plans have worked out so far, I would assume F also stands for failure." 

“Hey!” He yelps, glaring. 

You giggle. “Joking. Plan F it is! What do you need me to do?”

His smile made what some would call a shit eating grin.

You groan. “Oh no.”

Well, the two of you definitely made it off the planet in record time. With nothing more than you came with, other than a bounty on your heads.

No biggie.

someone yell at me to write my reqs bye

[stuckonmain]

'My Brother's an Idiot' Blues

2012 Leo x reader

Part two to 'I've Been Tired'

Bad end: "No." and No pt.2

Good end: "Yes."

Chapter Summary: Discussions at midnight, an angry ADHD kid who somehow ends up the temporary family therapist while he wards off his violent urges, tough choices, platonic Raph & reader, and sleep deprived turtles.

...All in all, it was very fun to write.

***

  Raph punched a wall.

  Leonardo was an idiot.  

  Raph groaned, stomping on the ground. 

  “Why is the guy so obsessed with hanging out with The Shredder’s daughter who’s tried killing us  multiple times?! Leo’s gonna get himself hurt, and then what?! And it doesn’t help that none of them bother to listen to me ever, Spi-”

  He deflated, staring at the empty tank.

  “...Spike.” He mumbled, reminded of how his friend had become…Slash…and tried to kill his brothers….

  Raph swallowed, clenching his fists tighter.

  “You okay, Leo?’ Said Donnie from down the tunnels, in the living room. 

  Raph felt like screaming. They were comforting him, as if he hadn’t just gone off and risked his life for the millionth time! But when Raph did impulsive stuff, they just laughed or got mad! This wasn’t fair!

Raph punched his pillow, biting down the impulse to break something, and physically biting his mask tails.

  ‘Calming down’ was clearly not working, he decided as he spat out his even-more-torn-now-mask tails. …Time to go topside.

  Leaving the lair really did do wonders for clearing his head, he noted as he shoved the manhole cover up and emerged into the alleyway. The air was warmer and fresher, and- 

  “Ah!” He yelped, jumping back. 

   Someone had just thrown a rock at him?!

  There was a clattering sound from the fire escape, as if someone was jumping up from a seat.

  “Shit-” 

  Oh great, it was Leo’s crush. Of course you were the one throwing rocks at him.

  “(Y/N), seriously?!” Raph growled, glaring up at where you were perched on the fire escape.

  “Sorry Raphael.” You said, cringing as you looked down towards him. Admittedly you did genuinely look sorry, with tears in your eyes and regret written all over your face…and Raph doubted it all came from your overwhelming remorse for throwing a rock at him.

  Still, his arm hurt now, on top of everything else in his life, and Raph frankly didn’t care about whatever the hell your damage was.

  “Why the fuck were you throwing rocks at me?!” He barked, feeling slightly silly as he craned his neck up to meet your eyes.

  “Why the fuck were you in my rock’s way?” You said back, but your voice was flat and tired. The apologetic expression on your face had faded too, shifting into a bored and mildly disappointed look that Splinter wore all the time.

  “Well sue me for wanting a break from my-” fucking- no, that felt too mean- “ -stupid brothers. I can’t even leave the lair without someone messing with me, apparently!” He snapped, and he picked up the rock and chucked it as hard as he could at the wall.

  “Well sue me for wanting a pleasant and harmless way of relieving stress and anger.” You said, tossing another rock off the fire escape. Raph flinched as it sailed towards him, but instead of striking him, it hit the manhole cover a few feet away. He picked it up, taking in your words.

  Raph tossed the rock back and forth between his hands. “Stressed and angry?” He echoed, looking up at you again. 

  Honestly, the idea of you being angry, of all people, felt pretty foreign. Sarcastic, sure, sassy, definitely, and even irritable…but mad? 

  You frowned boredly, leaning your face on your fist casually as you stared down at him. “Well, dear Raphael, why else would I be out here throwing rocks off my fire escape? Target practice?”

  Raph spluttered, trying to think of a comeback. “Well- I don’t know, maybe?! How the hell am I supposed to know what humans do?!”

  “...C’mon. You’ve known me since the first time you guys emerged from the depths of the sewers, you’ve picked up some things…especially if your fun new vocabulary of non-Sensei-approved-language suggests anything.” You said bluntly, and he scoffed and rolled his eyes.

  “We’ve been over this already (L/N), I knew the word ‘fuck’ before I met you.” He said, crossing his arms as you looked at him condescendingly. 

  “Did ya Mr. ‘sewer apples’?” You teased, doing air quotes.

  “...You know I’ve watched TV, right?” He said flatly.

  “Ooh, Raphie’s seen PG13 films?! Gasp!” You exclaimed dramatically. He growled and chucked the rock at the fire escape.

  You jumped back as the rock hit the wall a few feet away from your head, and your eyes widened as you realized you were actually riling him up.

  “...Sorry, Raph.” You said finally, slumping over. “I’m mad and I’m messing with you because it distracts me from being mad.”

  Raph froze. He hadn’t meant to scare you…. He coughed. “I…I shouldn’t have thrown that, huh?”

  You shrugged. “Well, I guess we’re even now.”

  Raph sighed, letting himself relax a bit. “Well…it worked both ways. I…was distracted too.”

  “Still, you were obviously in a bad mood as it was, and I pushed ya anyways.” You said.

  “Well…I guess we’re even now.” Raph offered, echoing your line.

  You smiled. “Yeah?”

  “...Yeah.”

  “...Hey, Raph?” You said, leaning over the railing of the fire escape. “You’re mad at your brothers, I’m mad at your brother…you wanna come up here for a being-mad-at-your-brothers-popsicle? …I meant to share them with Leo, but…y’know.”

  Sugar and taking something that was supposed to be Leo’s? Fuck yeah, Raph was all for it.

  “...’Kay, gimme a sec’.” Raph smiled, climbing onto a dumpster to hop onto the fire escape.

***

  “And then- get this- he says he’ll  ‘make it up to me’ again!” You exclaimed, biting into your third popsicle.

  Raph gave an affronted ‘Ha!’ sound through his popsicle, which- judging by the amount of wrappers surrounding him- was his sixth one.

  “Right?! Like c’mon Nardo! Just say you don’t like me already!” You groaned.

  Raph snorted, taking his popsicle out of his mouth. “Yeah right , you’re all he ever talks about aside from Karai. …And Captain Ryan, come to think of it.” He said, pausing to consider it. 

  (Was Leo bisexual? …Did Leo even know what it meant to be bi? Was Raph’s brother gay for a fictional character? …He’d revisit the thought later.)

  You shrugged. “I’m his proverbial best friend aside from you guys. Of course he talks about me.”

  Raph shook his head, trying not to give away too much of his brother’s obvious crush on you. “Sure, whatever helps you sleep at night, princess.” Was what he finally settled on.

  You raised an eyebrow. “You mean…you think he… likes me?”

  Raph stuck his popsicle back into his mouth and shrugged unhelpfully.

  You faltered at his lack of response, and licked your own popsicle uncertainly.

  Raph sighed, leaning back onto your pillows. “Look, (Y/N). My brother is…difficult. More so to me than to you since I live with him, but still. I don’t know what he wants or why he does the things he does, but I do know that he’s a good guy, at his core. He’d never hurt you on purpose, he’s just…” 

  Raph tried to think of a polite way to say ‘a dumbass with a hero complex’.  

  “...Kind of a dumbass with a hero complex.” He finally said, a bit miffed at his failure to come up with a nicer description.

  You chuckled though, and Raph felt admittedly proud of the fact that he’d made you laugh- wait no, he was being serious, why was he proud? He didn’t care what you thought!

  “He is .” He insisted, but smiled despite himself. “So whatever the heck is going on with ‘Shredder: Hot teen girl edition’ is probably just…y’know. That. If it makes you feel any better, he probably doesn’t have the hots for her…especially now that she’s tried to kill us.”

  (If Raph were in the mood for introspection, he could have probably related to Leo after the incident with Slash. Something about how affection for someone didn’t just vanish because of how horrible that person was, but it definitely lessened or something... But Raph didn’t like introspection, so he didn’t.)

  Then a thought occurred to him, and he sat up and stared at you. “(Y/N), do you have the hots for Leo?!”

  You blushed, and stubbornly stared at the quilt of your bed. “...Maybe. Maybe I do, Raph. He’s my best friend, why do you sound so surprised?”

  Raph shook his head, a throb of irritation running through him for some reason. “I dunno, maybe because you’re a nice-looking human while we’re…you know, mutant turtles who scare people even when we’re saving them? Like, no offense, but what about that is attractive to you?”

  You somehow blushed harder. “Gee I don’t know Raphael, do you really want me to tell you about what I find attractive in your brother?” 

  He wrinkled his snout and chewed on his popsicle stick. “...Well when you put it that way, hell no.”

  “ Thank you.” You said with a smile of …relief and a hint of smugness. 

  “...So what’re you gonna do?” Asked Raph, begrudgingly curious.

  You shrugged dejectedly. “I don’t know. This is hard, man. I…I like Leo a lot, but maybe I’m sick of being second best to his hero-pet-project. …Does that make me a bad person?”

  “No,” Raph scoffed. If that made you a bad person, then he was a worse person- He was sick of their team coming second to Leo’s dumb forced redeeming of Princess Foot Clan, and it had taken far less than three weeks for him to snap.

  Besides, you were way too cool to be a bad person. You’d given him popsicles and let him rant.

  “I hope it doesn’t. I…I really don’t know what I’m gonna do, I was a total bitch to Leo though still, regardless of how much I deserved to be…” You sighed.

  “Well…you have fun with that.” Raph grinned, patting you on the head patronizingly.

  “Jerk.” You grinned back. 

  “Anyways- I’m gettin’ sick of this mushy stuff.” Raph said, straightening. “Do you have any VHS tapes to watch or somethin’?” 

  “Gettin’ comfortable, huh?” You challenged.

  “No…! Shut up!” He squeaked. You didn’t have anything to do tonight, and Raph didn’t wanna go back to the lair! It made sense!

  Now it was your turn to do the condescending head pat. “There there Raphie, I’m enjoying your company too.”

  “I don’t enjoy your company that much, you’re just supplying me with- with popsicles! Do ya now how hard it is to steal frozen food? Fucking hard!” He snapped, tearing open another popsicle.

  You smiled good-naturedly and pulled up your laptop.

  “Alright Raphie, alright. I see where we stand now, I’m just a popsicle dealer to you.” You sighed dramatically as you popped a Mulan DVD into the media player.

  He rolled his eyes but peered over your shoulder at the screen. “A princess movie? What are ya, nine?”

  “Shhh. You’ll love it.” You said, patting his shell. “It’s about a girl who fights people.”

  He sighed. “Fine. If it’s a musical though-”

  “Leo’s reported you singing the Hamilton soundtrack in the lair, so you can’t even talk.” You grinned.

  “Leo !” He hissed, clenching his fist.

***

  Raph opened his eyes to a black laptop screen…right, he’d gotten tired while watching that Mulan movie with you. 

  His Tphone was blowing up with notifications from his brothers, which he ignored in favor of checking the time…2 AM. Fantastic.

  He sat up from where he sat buried in your pillows and stuffed animals, and awkwardly tried to open the window without waking you up. You were seated with your back against the wall, slumped against the curtain, which made things a bit trickier, but Raph was literally a ninja, and he managed to get it open enough to slip out through.

  He glanced around your room one final time, trying not to feel like he wasn’t supposed to be there. It was an eerie feeling, being there without you conscious. Like some secret he wasn’t supposed to see.

  But he also felt guilty just leaving like that, without saying bye or anything…Leo would call that bad manners. And Raph didn’t usually care about manners, but…you’d given him popsicles. And let him vent about his brothers. And you’d even shown him an admittedly fantastic movie…

  He sighed and climbed back off the bed and onto the floor, grabbing a pen from your desk.

  ‘Thanks’ he wrote on a piece of crumpled notebook paper, and set it on your desk. After a moment of hesitation, he also closed your laptop and set it on the bedside table. 

  “Okay. That’s enough of bein’ a good person for me today.” He mumbled, and finally climbed out the window onto the fire escape.

  He thought about what you’d said about Leo as he slid down the ladder into the alleyway. 

  Raph really didn’t think Leo liked Karai, especially considering how often he’d talked about you since…day one, pretty much. It’d be as annoying as Donnie’s thing for April if it weren’t for the fact that you and Leo actually did things together- Raph had honestly been a little jealous. Not of Leo or anything like that, but of the fact that Leo and you just seemed to… get each other in a way that Raph had only dreamed of. You just… understood each other. Did Leo even know how lucky he was to have that sort of connection?!

  … But then again, apparently that sentiment wasn’t as true as Raph had assumed, considering…well, everything you’d told him.

  He shook his head and climbed down the sewer ladder, hopping over the turnstiles as he reached the lair.

  Leo was in the living room glaring towards him, as he always was when Raph was out late. Leo liked to guilt trip him about how he’d been ‘forced to stay up and keep watch for you’ as if Raph didn’t know Leo had insomnia and would be awake at 2am regardless, and Raph liked to storm around and kick things as if Leo didn’t know Raph felt guilty. It was a fun game they played.

  “Where the heck were you?” Leo said, without the usual irritation in his voice.

  …Actually, upon further inspection…without the usual anything, really. Instead of a dramatic Captain Ryan-esque heroic pose, Leo sat slumped against the couch. He wasn’t even on the couch, he was just leaning on it, which looked incredibly uncomfortable considering how cold the floor was. 

  Not only that, but there were unfamiliar stains on his mask and arm wrappings….uh, wet marks? Tear trails, Raph realized with a pang, stepping closer.

  “...You okay, brother?” He found himself asking. He wasn’t fully done being mad at Leo yet, but honestly, Raph didn’t think he could be mad at Leo right now…the guy looked so…so sad. It was kinda freaking him out.

  Leo shifted, hugging a couch pillow to his plastron.

  “I’m fine Raph.”

  Raph frowned. “No, you’re clearly not. Ya look like someone told you that Space Heroes got cancelled.”

  “It’s been completed since 1974, they can’t cancel it.” Leo said with a half smile, clearly proud of his somewhat-weak comeback.

  Raph rolled his eyes and sat on the floor across from Leo, grabbing the pillow out of his hands so Leo was forced to look up. “Look I’m not good at this whole ‘reading other people’s emotions’ shit, but I know you well enough to know that if you were fine you wouldn’t be here with this…wet pillow…ew, is that snot?” He said, wrinkling his snout in disgust.

  Leo snorted. “Gimme back my pillow, Raphael. That’s an order.”

  “Yeah no shit! I don’t want your snotty pillow, Fearless!” Raph gagged, tossing the pillow at Leo’s face.

  Leo smirked and held it to his chest again.

  “Ugh…you’re proud of that, aren’t you?!” Raph said, furiously wiping his hands on the floor.

  “To be fair, it was rather funny.” Leo pointed out.

  “I hate you.” Raph grunted, crossing his arms. “But you’re distracting me: Are ya really this hung up over the (Y/N) thing? Like… crying hung up?”

  Leo’s smile faded, and he looked away. “No…yes… Yeah.”

  He sighed, hugging the pillow tighter. “Raph… Am I a bad friend?”

  “Well, you screwed up, brother. But- and if you tell anyone that I told you this I’m pounding your skull in- But (Y/N) obviously likes you…a lot . So you’re doing something right, right?” Raph said with a shrug. 

  Leo moaned, shoving his face into the snotty pillow. “Did you talk to (Y/N) or something?!”

  “...I am far too tired to decide whether or not that’s a trick question, so I’mma just say yes now. Yes, I was with (Y/N), and yes we ate popsicles and said the word ‘fuck’ multiple times.” Raph said bluntly.

  Leo glanced up from the pillow. “Is (Y/N) okay?” He asked instantly. “I was such a…such a moron- Hey wait you ate my popsicles? -uh- Nope, not getting sidetracked, we’ll unpack that later- how is (Y/N) doing Raph?!”

  “Fearless, if you get one single inch closer to my face, I’m burning your room down.” Raph grunted, shoving his brother back a few inches before answering. “(Y/N) is mad at you. And sad. I don’t know, it’s none of my business. You should probably talk it out or something that couples- uh I mean ‘best friends’- do. I don’t know, I’m aromantic.”

  “I’m not dating (Y/N).” Leo said, rolling his eyes.

  “Oh right, you just talk about how ‘awesome it is to have someone like that’ and how much you want to ‘stare into those (E/C) orbs and get lost in them’ or ‘get in a romantic fistfight’ platonically.” Raph smirked. 

  “I do not say that. But that's irrelevant-”

  “Yeah, you do, actually.” Said a third voice. Raph looked up to see Donnie draped over the previously-empty-couch dramatically and did a double take.

  “Fucking- Jeez! Breathe louder or something Don!” He sputtered.

  “How long have you been there?!” Leo said, wearing a matching look of shock.

  “Since Raph came out as aromantic. Congrats on that, by the way! You hear that Leo? Now the aspec-siblings are half of the team. Now we’ve just gotta bribe Mikey into joining our side and we’ll outnumber you three to one!” Donnie said with a gap-toothed grin, shooting him a thumbs up.

  Raph nodded, still reeling. “God, Dee…”

  “I have always thought I deserve godhood, yes.” Donnie nodded, clearly sleep deprived. “But then again, I’d miss you guys. Maybe. Maybe just on Tuesdays! Ha! Ha….ha… Good god, I need sleep, don’t I?” They laughed hysterically. 

  Leo narrowed his eyes. “Donnie…how many coffees did you have?”

  “Hahaha…six. …Gasp , maybe I already am God!” 

  Raph rolled his eyes. “Yeah okay I’m gonna ignore them. Back to (Y/N). You’ve gotta apologize.”

  Leo seemed to shrink further into himself as he pressed his shell to the couch again.

  “Well…what if I’m too late? What if I’ve screwed up so much that (Y/N) won’t even want to be acquainted with me? What if…”

  “You’re gonna kill yourself with ‘dem ‘what if’s, Leo.” Donnie said, leaning over the couch arm to stare directly into Leo’s eyes. (Which looked hilarious, and Raph wished he had a camera)

  “Yeah, great advice from the guy who made a literal flow chart about his crush, Donatello. ” Leo sassed.

  “Yeah! I became master of the ‘what if’s! (Ooh… God of the ‘what if’s.)" He coughed. "Anyways: As God, that method works great for me. But you’re what Mikey would call… squishy, Leonardo! Those what ifs will simply tear your mortal soul apart!” Donnie said, miming an explosion in Leo’s face.

  Leo blinked at them, unimpressed. “Mikey coined the term ‘squishy’ to describe you. ”

  “Ooh, I’m a god of Squishy too?!” Donnie gasped. Raph shoved them off the couch.

  Donnie proceeded to simply lay on the floor, and after a few seconds it became apparent that he’d fallen asleep.

  “...I need to get rid of our coffee supply, huh?” Leo said, sighing.

  “I’m pretty sure he actually orders it from online Starbucks, so no dice.” Raph grunted, conveniently not mentioning that Donnie also let Raph order frappuccinos during those Starbucks-runs.

  “Well, nix on that idea.” 

  “I’m gonna make you apologize to (Y/N) tomorrow, you know.” Raph said, looking up.

  Leo nodded, squeezing his pillow one more time. “Okay.”

  “...D’ya think we should just leave them on the floor?” Raph prodded Donnie’s limp body.

  “Well, he’ll probably get back pain…eh, yeah, let’s leave him here.” Leo said with a shrug. 

  “He’s gonna hate themself tomorrow.” Raph smirked, already looking forward to it.

    ***

  Raph was gone in the morning when you woke up, and your laptop had been closed and set on the side table. You were on top of your blankets and leaning against the wall, as you had been while watching the movie…you must’ve fallen asleep.

  There was a crumpled paper on your laptop with a messy ‘Thanks’ scrawled onto it, and you smiled lightly.

  You’d never really spent much time with Raph compared to his brothers, but you were pleasantly surprised by how nice it had been to hang out with him. 

  And- oh yeah. Leo. 

  Your smile faded as you remembered the problem with Leo.

  What were you gonna do? …Apologize? No, you shouldn’t have to apologize, you hadn’t done anything wrong, really…

  You could go talk to him, maybe. 

  What did you even want from Leo, anyways? Sure you liked him, but your feelings were hurt. Did you even want to hang out with him right now?

  Maybe you needed a break. April had taken a break, so what was stopping you?

   Guilt, maybe… You mused as you plugged your laptop in and scrolled through your notifications mindlessly.

  And you didn’t want to take a break from Mikey, Donnie, and Raph. Sure Leo was your self appointed best friend, but the others were great too. And you’d finally hung out with Raph, and you didn’t want to throw all that progress down the drain…

  Was it petty though for you to want to not hang out with Leo? 

  He clearly didn’t want to hang out with you- no, but Raph said that Leo did want to hang out with you.

  Raph had also said something about how he and his brothers ‘weren’t exactly attractive by human standards’…was Leo insecure or something? Why would he be insecure? He was a badass ninja who saved people, he had like, nothing to be insecure about.

  You exhaled in frustration, wishing someone would just- make the decision for you-

  There was a thud, and you jumped and stared out the window.

  A rock.

  You sighed and shoved the window open to see which turtle it was, hoping for Leo but also dreading Leo-

  “Sup (Y/N).” Said Raph, waving up from the alley below..

  “Hey Raph!” You said, feeling both relieved and disappointed. Until you noticed the figure behind him in the shadows. Leo.

Nice.

  “Um…hi?” Said Leo weakly, and he gave a small wave.

  Raph shoved him forwards, glaring up at you in a way that would have read as hostile if it weren’t for the glint of amusement in his eyes.

  “Go get ‘em, Fearless.” He grinned.

  Leo shot Raph a glare, but looked back at you.

  “Hey (Y/N)...can we talk?” He said slowly.

  You sighed, and climbed out the window and onto the fire escape.

  “Yeah, I guess so.”

  “Cool cool.” He said, staring at his hands.

  Raph gave you a thumbs up before vanishing into the shadows, and then you and Leo were alone.

  “So. Rocks at my window? You know that’s what texting is for, right?” You said with a light smile you didn’t fully mean.

  Leo blushed. “Sorry. That was Raph. I think he just wanted to throw rocks, but I told him it was a bad idea-”

  “It’s okay.” You said, a bit awkwardly.

  “Oh. Well, sorry, still.” He said, rubbing the back of his neck.

  “So what did you want to talk about, Nardo?” You said, cutting to the chase.

  Leo swallowed. “Uhm…talking, right. I just…You’re right. I’m a terrible friend. I was avoiding you…And it’s not because I don’t like you, it’s just because…well, I don’t know. Because…”

  “You’re a ‘dumbass with a hero complex’?” You offered, quoting Raph.

  Leo narrowed his eyes. “What? No, I’m- Maybe? …Yes.” He finally said with a sigh.

  “So…yeah, what’s your point then?” You said.

  “My point is…I’m gonna try to do better. Be a better friend, if you’ll have me. And if not…I get it. I’ll be like, totally crushed, don’t get me wrong, but it makes sense.” He said, bowing his head. “But um…either way, I just want you to know that I…I like you a lot, (Y/N), and I should have done a better job of showing it.”

  You swallowed, trying not to look into his blue eyes.

  Well…time to make a choice.

No/Yes

***

Author's note: So this baby is a multiple-parter now. There's gonna be two separate endings, one that'll be angsty and one that'll be happy depending on your choice.

Side note, sorry about the excess of Raph in this chapter. I promise next chapter is very Leo-centric, but I guess...well, Raph is my favorite, apparently.

Taglist for this mini-series:

@saspas-corner

@beansap

@xyntix

[your-averagewriter]

"It’s the only goddamn hat you’re gonna get.”

Summary: At the bar, everyone's drunk and dancing but DuBois finally decides to do something about Rick's hands around her waist (Robert DuBois x fem!reader).

Word count: 1.1K

Warnings: swearing, alcohol, drinking, kissing, making out

-

We enter the bar and immediately we’re met with bright lights and strippers, sounds like a good time is what I think. The music isn’t too loud so we can actually hear each other. I’m reminded as we sit down that we’re not here for fun, we’re here for the Thinker. Of course, the first time I’ve been to a bar in months is for a mission and not fun.

I’m cheered up though when Peacemaker beacons over a waiter and orders a round of drinks.

“Hey, piss maker, you’re on a mission.” I chuckle at the nickname.

“Easy, Inspector Gadget.” He moves mockingly. “A little drink never hurt nobody.”

“Except for the 1000s of people killed in drunk driving accidents every year.” Polka-Dot man pipes up, depressingly.

“C’mon Robert, I hate to agree with this guy.” I say, indicating to Peacemaker. “But you should let loose a little. Who knows, this could be our last drink?” I say as the waitress brings the drinks over.

“Fine, one drink.” DuBois gives in.

“You’re gonna be that guy?” Peacemaker mocks.

“Yeah, I’m gonna be that guy.”

“Hey, it’s progress.” I say with a smile, throwing my arm around Robert before downing my drink.

After that one round comes another then another and suddenly we’re all on the dance floor. I’m dancing with Cleo, Peacemaker’s dancing too. Although I’m trying to stay clear of him, Rick and Robert are hanging by the side of the dance floor, laughing, looking very tipsy. 

I giggle, the alcohol feels great in my system after a while of not being able to drink and dancing with Cleo is the most fun I’ve had in a while. Not that either of us are particularly good dancers but we might not even be alive tomorrow so who cares what we look like.

After a while I head back over to Rick and Robert in the corner as I grasp onto a new glass from the waitress.

“Hey guys.” I say to the two of them, giggling as I go. “Do you guys wanna dance?” I say with a massive smile on my face.

They look at each other then Rick turns back to me with a smile, a silly cowboy hat on.

“I’m down.” He says, leaving his glass on the side after he swallowed the rest of it. “DuBois?” He asks.

“I’m gonna hang back at the bar.”

“Suit yourself.” I say, dragging Rick by the hand onto the dance floor. “C’mon cowboy.” I say with a smirk.

We dance under the bright lights, the colours illuminating our bodies as we dance with each other, Rick’s hands on my hips. I tip Rick’s hat with a smile.

“I’ve always loved your Southern accent, the hat with it is just too much for me to handle.” I giggle as I drunkenly flirt with him. This happens everytime we’re drunk together, the flirting commences but we both know that it means nothing. There’s always a bar trip on the Suicide Squad missions that almost makes up for the traumatic experiences, well not quite but it’s fun.

“I didn’t know you had a thing for cowboys.” He says.

“Neither did I.” I chuckle before resting my head on his chest as a slower song starts playing - nothing too romantic but a bit more slow tempo.

After a while, Robert walks over to us and I pull myself off Rick ready to welcome him to the dance floor.

“Robert, you finally dancing?” I ask as I continue to move to the beat of the music.

“Thought it was about time.” He says with a small smirk, placing his hands on my hips like Rick did although it didn’t feel like this with Rick. And I certainly didn’t miss the dirty look from him to Rick. “So you and Flag, huh?” He asks over the music and I start laughing again. “What? What’s so funny?” He questions, confused.

“We’re not together.”

“It certainly sounded like it.” He sighs.

“Well, it isn’t. You jealous? Do you not like Rick?”

“No and it’s complicated.”

“Why? Rick’s great.” I say with a beaming smile - I’ve always loved my friends and kept them very close to my heart and I still do despite these conditions.

“He was dancing with you and touching you.”

“Okay?” I say, confused on what the problem is. “I asked you to dance with me and you didn’t want to.” I say with a frown.

“Oh, trust me I did. There are very few things I would’ve wanted more.”

“Why didn’t you do anything?”

“I’m trying to now.”

“Then do something.” I say and he grabs my hand, I follow him to the toilets. Once inside he locks the door and presses me against it.

His lips are on mine in a second and quickly I wrap my arms around his neck pulling him closer. I can feel the wood of the door rubbing against my back but all I care about are his lips, how they so fervently move against mine like a starved man.

After a few moments he pulls away from me and I chase his lips only to be met with a chuckle.

“Are you sure you want this?” He asks.

“Yes. Are you?” I say, quickly.

“Fuck yeah. You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do this.”

He taps my leg then his waist signalling for me to wrap my legs around him. I yelp, surprised when he hoists me up and moves to sit me on top of the sinks. He laughs against my lips at my reaction.

“You said you weren’t jealous of Rick.” I smirk.

“I lied. I was jealous because every man in the room was looking at you, watching your body as you danced to the music with Cleo then when you danced with Rick. I had to watch as his hands rested on your hips where mine should’ve been. I watched him flirt with you like I wanted to.”

“You should’ve got a cowboy hat then.” I say, chuckling as I watch Robert’s reaction, his eyebrows creasing. “I’m just joking.” I say and his lips seem to melt against mine as his tongue licks across my bottom lip requesting entry which I grant willingly.

I release one of my arms from around his neck and reach to his head where a navy beret lies undisturbed. Gripping onto it, I hoist from his head and dangle it in front of his face before dropping it gently on my head. 

I giggle as I turn to see my reflection in the mirror. It looks a little silly and it’s too big for me but I can’t complain.

“Get back here.” Robert beacons as I turn back away from the mirror to reunite with his lips.

“Don’t worry, I like your hat plenty.” I say, unable to stop giggling against his lips.

“Good because it’s the only goddamn hat you’re gonna get.” He says, his voice rough.

-

AN: Hope you enjoyed reading!

Also I might write another Rick Flag fic using the speech from this fic so keep an eye out.

[probabludaistkf]

A flower blooms in early winter chpt 2- A dream

an: this one is angst then fluff. The reader has a nightmare but luckily Vox is there to help!

Even after the episode has ended they continue to bawl.

“Do you guys want to watch something else or?”

“Yeah.” They all chorus. 

        Hours have now passed and it was quite late or the sun had set at least and you could no longer hear people outside. Nina and Mysta have passed out already and Vox was clinging onto the last bit of consciousness he had left.

“Alright.” He yawned “bedtime?”   You sighed wriggling out of Nina’s arms 

“But where am I going to sleep?”

“I have a guest room, you can stay there if you want.” 

“Ok but where will Mysta sleep?”

“He can sleep on the floor. Let’s go.”

Vox slumps Mysta over his shoulder and trails ahead of you eventually leading you to the room you woke up in.

“Get yourself to sleep. You look exhausted.” 

           The bed is soft. The pillows and mattress feel as though they’re feather filled and the duvet has been washed with a lavender scented fabric conditioner. In your opinion it’s way too much and it vaguely reminds you of the luxuries of where you used to live. How you’d be spoiled and served by the people around you. Although they saw you as their god, some deity that took them under your wing but you’d rather they’d call you a family member. Because that’s what you thought of them. Family. But family doesn’t hunt each other down for sport. Family doesn’t kill each other. You slowly begin to drift off to sleep after staring at the ceiling for quite some time and when you awoke you were back in the manor again. You were greeted by the maids and all the familiar faces you had started to miss. And there he was, your favourite human in the entire world. He outstretched his arms to hug you and you ran into them squeezing him back tightly. You had been out in the woods for so long and then you had been picked up by some big scary demon but now you were home. You started to cry a little bit.

“Hey, what’s the matter? Why’re you crying?” He comforts you by gently stroking your hair and scratching that spot behind your ear

“I just had a terrible dream is all.”

“Must’ve been real bad if you’re acting like this.”

“Let’s go bother the others!”

“Sure thing.”

You both make your way to the lounge where his siblings are. His older sister and younger brother glare at you and it sends a shiver down your spine. 

“I thought you were gone.” Says the sister rising from her seat “ I thought we got rid of you.” The younger storms off hurriedly as if rushing to get something.

“Guys, what do you mean? They’re right here, aren’t they?” He looks at you confused. “Got rid of them? Just what are you on about? Are you trying to ruin our family? What would mother and father think?”

You swallow hard, this can’t be real. It was just a dream. Just a silly dream.

“Who cares for mother and father’s judgement if they chose you as their successor.” She raises her hand and extends a finger towards him. She’s bubbling and overflowing with a blind rage. “You were always the  favourite child. Mother and father cherished and spoiled you. However I was just a failure and your brother a spare.” She slowly made her way towards you both “Even that thing in your arms adores you so. You did the bare minimum and you were rewarded.”

“C’mon you know that’s not tru-“

“Oh! But yes it is. You have no right to speak so SHUT UP!”  She leans in close to his ear and whispers something you can’t hear. A loud thud echoes through the room as the younger brother bursts into the room hiding something behind his back.

“Do you know how hard it was having all my accomplishments compared to yours?” He too approaches and his sister steps out the way “ A- why can’t you be more like your brother? Y’know your brother could do this before he was your age. Your big brother could do better than this. Be more like your brother.’ Y’know these were the constant degrading comments I would receive from the age I could walk.” Now he was up close to both of you and you could just barely peek over his shoulder to see what he was hiding. It was a shiny hunting knife. You froze. “But now I won’t have to face these words anymore! With you gone I can finally be like my big brother! In charge and loved by my wonderful parents.”

“Wait what are you-“

“We should've gotten rid of you alongside the rat.”

“Goodbye big brother I’ll dearly miss you.”

And suddenly you were falling but more so you were alone… Alone and falling further and further into darkness. No one could hear you scream or cry and all you could see were they’re grinning faces.

           You shot up from the bed in a cold sweat and tears began to swell in your eyes. You missed him so much but you couldn’t go back; who knows what they’ll do to you or him. But what if they’ve done something already. He has to be fine, he has to be. Your cries soon rang throughout the room but no matter how hard you tried you couldn’t stop yourself. You scream his name begging for him to be ok, alive at least. You desperately craved some form of comfort. You can hear Vox running through the hallway. He hurriedly crashes into your room almost falling over from how much strength he used to open the door.

“Are you okay? What happened?” You open your mouth but all that comes out is wails and your eyes are overflowing “I see… Come here.” He gently lifts you into his arms and sits on the bed. He gently strokes your hair and holds you tight, just the same way he did. The act made you cry more. “Bad dream, huh? No worries let it all out.” You continue to cry into his shoulder and helplessly cling onto his shirt. You miss him. You miss him so fucking much. And your so fucking scared. But for a demon Vox seems to care quite a bit for you. It’s safe here but you still want to go back. 

“I wanna go home… I wanna see ____ again.” Are the only words you can squeeze out.

“I see, are you worried about him?” You sniffle and nod slowly beginning to calm down. “Let’s get you some water.” 

He carries you to the kitchen gently patting your back to comfort you. You can tell he’s awkward and clearly not used to this but his efforts are working. He sits you down on a nearby chair and gets you a tall glass of water. He is sat across from you and is softly scratching behind your ears

“Are you okay? Can you tell me what happened?”

“I had a nightmare ____ was killed because I went back home.”

“That sounds awful. I heard the way you were screaming his name. He really must be important to you.”

“He is.” You down the rest of your water swiftly.

“Are you done?” You nod in response “Let me take that from you.”

You are carried back to your room and Vox gently lays you back into your bed. 

“Are you feeling better now?” You nod “Do you need anything?” You shake your head. “Alright then. Goodnight.”

“Wait!” You whisper shout from how sore your throat is

“Can you stay? Just for a bit.” 

“Sure.” Vox sits at your bedside slowly stroking your head. It’s nice having someone with you. You slowly start to drift off again. Seeing this Vox started to get up but you grabbed his hand so he couldn’t leave not just yet. Through half lidded eyes you could just barely peer through the darkness and see him smiling at you softly.

         When you woke up the next morning with Vox still at your side; he had stayed with you all through the night. You carefully hug him as you get out of bed. 

[rainbow-pop-arts]

HOOOOOOGH, it’s time for part 2 of my Trigun Maximum vol 6 thoughts for @trigunbookclub

Some thoughts on TriMax chap 36-37 under the cut!

Legato sure do cares a lot about Knives, that's sweet :D

Look at Legato just hanging

*Gasps* She had the AUDACITY

Silly El Gato just hanging around

Wow, more bad guys

Oh hey, he’s injecting somethi-

Oh……my god

Ain’t no way, a cult that worship plants….who seems to have the same crosses as Wolfwood?

Um yeah…….so this happened

Oh no, that guy fell off

Sneak attack

Look at him hanging around

So they DO have the same crosses as Wolfwood…….is this what people meant when they said Wolfwood grew up in a cult? 😟

Oh that’s sad, the two bad guys debuted and died on the same chapter :( (Is that Livio?  He looks different when I searched up what he looks like in the manga, he had shorter hair, a hat and a mark on the left side of his face)

Ayyo???? Ewwwww, that’s nasty, you know how many germs are in coins and how awful they tastes? >:0 (Haha, long tongue :D)

I know this is serious but….c’mon just look at the angle

So chickens, cows and pigs does exists

Nah man, trauma changes a person 😔

Oh no, a dying plant! (╯•ᗣ•╰)

TriStamp animated the plants screaming in pain and rotting away on their last run so it was uncomfortable to experience

BUT TRISTAMP DIDN’T ANIMATED THEM EXPLODING WHEN THEY DIE OH MY GOD

Oh no, he mad

Um…

UM!!?!?!?! 

Uh yeah, I think he destroyed a whole city but unlike Vash he actually did it on purpose

Just like Mob Psycho 100 for real

Oh naaaaaah, Knives killed Conrad (See, he still cares about Vash! He literally freaked out when he learns that Vash’s hair is turning black too! 😁)

They’re brotherly bond is still strong, Vash can sense Knives's screams 😔

That’s all for part 2! (✌ﾟ∀ﾟ) Bonus: So uh, the context is that there’s a picture on Pinterest of the ’98 anime (looks like it’s from a magazine) where it shows the characters after the anime ended and then I saw…this comment

[southieparkie]

Okay, I've seen this discourse going around on my dash because a few of my mutuals have expressed their takes. At first I was going to just. Side eye. And leave it at that. But I actually wanna talk about it real quick.

It doesn’t really matter if Cartman is the star of the show or if he’s the show’s backbone, people are not crazy lunatics for disliking him. A character’s role in a show shouldn’t have to be what dictates whether or not it’s okay for the fandom to hate them. That’s just silly. Let’s use the Winx Club, for example. I’ve seen people say that they hate Bloom, the main character in the show. Without Bloom, there would be no Winx Club. I was shocked by this at first because, hey! She’s Bloom! But it didn’t really hurt me or upset me because, while I personally like Bloom, I’m aware that there are people out there who don’t. That’s fine, preferences exist. I’ll live, and so will they.

Another really popular example that I’ve seen lately is Marinette from Miraculous Ladybug. This one did kinda hurt me a little, only because I really liked her and even saw bits and pieces of herself in me. The most recent ML season, from what I’ve seen and heard, has pretty much Mary Sue’d her in terms of accountability and clumsiness. Hey, shit happens. Although it’s sad that the fandom no longer likes my favorite character, I’m not going to wiggle my finger at whoever posts about how they’re disappointed that Marinette’s character has changed so drastically, and I’m especially not going to justify my finger-wiggling by saying that she’s the Star of the Show and therefore void of criticism. Or just. Immune to the fandom not liking her ass.

I’ve met people who even hate Spongebob. Spongebob Motherfucking Squarepants. Without him, there would be no show! But even then, it’s valid if the little guy annoys you.

All of this can be said about Cartman. I’m personally one of the ones who just flat out doesn’t care about him. I generally don’t feel the need to, like, analyze his character and look into why he does what he does. Not because I won’t benefit from it, I most likely will, but because I simply don’t want to. Drinking a tall glass of lemonade would be more refreshing than studying whatever the hell Cartman has got going on, I’ll tell ya that right now.

So yeah, people can dislike Cartman for whatever reason they feel. One of the most popular reasons being that he’s a shitty person. While I’d argue that this is par for the course considering the overall offensive rhetoric a show like South Park seems to present, you have to admit that the guy can take shit to another level. Also, I hate it when people fire back against that argument by saying “Well, all of the other characters are shitty human beings too!” because, yeah, you’re absolutely right, but I don’t recall Stan starting a Nazi Revolution in honor of one of the most evil human beings of all mankind. I don’t recall Kenny killing an innocent man and forcing a boy to eat Chili made out of his own cooked flesh. It doesn’t matter how you slice it, none of these characters hold a single candle to the amount of terrible shit Cartman has said and done, most of which he doesn’t even feel sorry for.

Even with the shit that the other characters do, they’re easily forgettable moments because the moments are few and far between, a refresher to remind the audience that these characters are in no way completely innocent. With Cartman, being a piece of shit is, like, central to every episode he’s in. Like, damn bitch, almost every episode you’re on some next level shit lmao.

I’d also like to address how fatphobia has come into play here. I mean, sure, yeah, things like fatphobia can and do stand as factors for why people don’t like characters, most likely internalized rather than intentional. And not to dismiss genuine fatphobia in the fandom, because I do believe that it’s there, I truly do not believe that that is a driving factor for the fans disliking Cartman. Like, c’mon. There’s a whole bunch of other shit here, I think his weight is the least of our worries.

Also in terms of shipping I think fans don’t like to ship Cartman with anyone because of the canonical event of Cartman actually getting a girlfriend. He was a manipulative asshole, we all saw it. Even before he and Heidi got together, the way he treats his friends and family is evidence enough. Idk. I don’t think he’d be any different while being romantically involved with any other member of the cast, which is why any ship involving him is, in my opinion, questionable at best and outright anti-semetic at worst (wink wink nudge nudge)

Anyway uhhh take this post with a grain of salt lol. If you like him, great! Just, y’know, don’t shame others for not liking him just because he’s the reason why South Park has it’s fame. Doesn’t matter, ppl are allowed to not like characters.

[afawnsdiary]

Gym Day 3

Leg Day 😁 Killed it! Had the lady gym all to myself today so I took a quick picture to show y’all the tiny closet haha.

It looks a lot bigger on the picture because I used wide angle to capture it all while squeezing myself in the corner. I’d say it’s about 40-50 square meter. My living room is 32 🤭

It’s nice though that there is one at least. So you don’t have to do your RDLs and Squats in a room full of men. It‘d be quite uncomfortable. Also when you go at times like I do, it feels safer to have a space like that. Trainers won’t be at the gym before 9am and other staff members not until 7am. There is a night watch but this morning it was a rather tiny woman and I was a little confused about how she’d protect me if anything happens 👀

Not a day so far where I didn’t embarrass myself though. I don’t know what it is with me lol. Went on the leg curl today and I somehow managed to slip down lmao. Don’t ask me how!!! Just so glad no one saw that. At least I think no one saw that 🙈

And because I forgot to tell yesterday: when I was at the cable pull a guy came over and asked something. I say something because I saw his lips move and talking in my direction, a meter away from me but I couldn’t hear a single word. And I said I’m sorry what? He repeated but I still didn’t hear anything 🙈😭 I was just like wtf brain get your shit together. And so I had to ask him again and it was so embarrassing 🙈 I’m pretty sure he thinks I’m fucking stupid or something 😭 All he wanted to know was how many sets I had left and I gave him such a hard time.

I hate when that happens. And it happens a lot. People talk to me, I hear their voice, but no words can reach me. So awkward every time this happens. 🫥

And why the hell do they have this terrible light in the gym. It’s the same light you have in changing booths! It makes you so ugly!! Whyyy. Not asking for sexy dim light but c’mon!

Also today I saw the first gym babe. Not just saw, heard her as well. I don’t like talking bad about people I don’t know. But if you are familiar with certain videos of women complaining about creepy guys while they’re literally half naked or doing things no one can look away from, then you get the picture.

Anyways it was fun, saw nice people (men) and found a couple new vegan products at the store afterwards. Happy Day ✌️

PS: I need a solution to this carry-stuff-around-in-the-gym issue. Like, you got a towel, membership card, water, phone etc and it feels like going into a grocery store without a cart. Balancing it, making sure you don’t drop or forget anything. But it can’t be a bag where you don’t see the stuff or you have to fish it out. But I guess a basket would look silly 🤭 I need to figure something out

[nagasakidivision]

Drama Track: Double Effect 2.2

>disappears for 4 months >drops another cliffhanger >refuses to elaborate

Seriously though, this should be the last long-term hiatus (please God I don't need anymore excitement in my life.) To make a long story short my employment, financial, academic, and home life related matters are way more stable now and I can hopefully get back to writing things that are not school related. I don't want to make a full post on why I've disappeared and I hate infodumping about life stuff anyways, so we'll just leave it at that.

A-NY-WAYS. Let's pick up where we left off! Link to the first part if you need it because it's been a hot minute. We're looking at.........probably two more parts after this, which I'll shoot for putting up within the next few days but I'll post something frivolous and short and silly and not at all ominous tomorrow to fill in the gap. Absolutely no reason to be concerned about the boys or what's going on in their lives or pasts. Trust me. :)

(but seriously it will be a low-effort fluff post so don't get too excited lol)

(Footsteps as Shirou walks down an alley.)

[Damien]: Yo. Done with the final casing. Or, uh, Lucia is. Heh. You get the footage I sent?

[Shirou]: I did.

[Damien]: Still think it’s doable? They’ve stepped up security.

[Shirou]: I’ve done far worse than this.

[Damien]: Yeah, yeah. I don’t see why you need to warn them. You’re making things way harder on yourself.

[Shirou]: What’s the point of doing this if they don’t know what they’ve done wrong?

[Damien]: Sure, but you could do it after the fact.

[Shirou]: Anyone could take credit for it then. I have copycats.

[Damien]: (sighs) …You know what? Sure. Can’t argue with that logic. Just try to not make a habit of this for every job we work. Street toughs are one thing, going against someone with real money is another. Like, you know, Solaris.

[Shirou]: Fortunately, we aren’t dealing with Solaris. I’ve run dozens of jobs just like this against people smarter than Tomabechi. Have a little faith in me.

[Damien]: Got plenty of that or I wouldn’t be here. So. Ready to go?

[Shirou]: As long as you’ve got my back.

[Damien]: Always. Gimme a sec to get to my post. C’mon, Lucia.

[Haruto]: …Okay, this can’t possibly be the right side of town.

(He sighs and slumps against a wall.)

[Haruto]: I was sure I saw him head this way. How can he walk that fast that quietly?

[Passerby…? 1]: This is a waste of time. Nothing’s happening.

[Haruto, thinking]: Whoa. Those guys look rough. Better get out of the way.

[Passerby…? 2]: Yeah, I know. Dunno why he’s so wound up. It could just be a fake. Someone trying to rile us up, y’know?

[Passerby…? 1]: C’mon. He’s gotta just be an urban legend. There’s no way someone’s that good of a thief.

[Passerby…? 2]: No. Trust me. This is the real deal. The flowers, the note, the handwriting…it’s Gabriel.

[Haruto]: ….Hold on a second. That name…

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

[Haruto]: I got it! What about Metaxu? Like, the Platonic concept—I mean, I’m not a Platonist but Weil kind of took it and ran with it in a really interesting way. It’s the perfect MC name, right? It’s all got to do with communication.

[Damien]: Hey, so, you know that division from Ikebukuro? The one that’s made up entirely of teenagers?

[Haruto]: …Yeah?

[Damien]: Well, they’re going to shove you in a locker because you’re a nerd. Pick a different name.

(Haruto crumples up a paper and flings it at Damien.)

[Haruto]: Oh, you’re one to talk, Reprobus!

[Damien]: Hey! That’s different, he’s cool. He got torture-murdered and never broke throughout it. And he still healed the guy who killed him.

[Shirou]: According to one account of many. I mean, we can’t even be certain that Reprobus was even Saint Christopher’s prebaptismal name.

[Damien]: It’s a saint gospel, most of it is exaggeration at best. Might as well pick the most badass one.

[Shirou]: Well, fair enough. I’d imagine that’s exactly what the writers were thinking.

[Haruto]: That still puts me back at square one. I’m out of ideas. I guess I could just use my own name like that one guy from Shinjuku but that’s boring.

[Shirou]: What about Phoenix? It still keeps up the…religion-related themeing we have. Phoenixes are used frequently in hagiography.

[Haruto]: Theme? I see how Damien’s does that, but what does Kingslayer have to do with religion?

[Shirou]: Ah. It’s after the archangel Gabriel. He was supposed to be the angel who presided over the death of kings.

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

[Haruto]: …You are fucking kidding me.

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

(The wind kicks up. Shirou’s cape rustles.)

[Damien]: Alright. Nest’s all set up. Shepherd, in position.

[Shirou]: Gabriel, in position.

[Damien]: Curtains are up. Showtime.

(Shirou lets out a long exhale. There’s a soft scraping of his boots against concrete, far gentler than it should be. A whoosh of air as he leaps off his perch from rooftop to rooftop. After a few moments, he stops.)

[Shirou]: Ready to breach. How’s it look in there?

[Damien]: Absolutely infested. Your best bet’s through that window on the third floor. Goes into a supply room nobody’s using.

[Shirou]: I’ll see what I can do.

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

[Haruto]: It can’t be Shirou they’re after. Right? I’ll just…

(He taps out a phone number. It goes to the dial tone, and rings. Once, twice, then seven times before…)

[Phone]: It’s Sonozaki. Apologies, but you seem to have missed me. Please leave a message after the tone.

[Haruto]: Fucking hell…

(He shoves the phone in his pocket, rather aggressively. Footsteps as he paces in a circle.)

[Haruto]: I shouldn’t take the risk it's someone else. Right? Just in case. I mean, I do nothing and if it is him, he gets killed. I do something, and…

(A pause.)

[Haruto]: What even is something in this case?

[Haruto]: God. Okay. Do or die, right? I just have to find him first.

(He hums in thought.)

[Haruto]: …Huh. They say your last instinct is to look up for something, right? Okay, here goes…

(It takes a few jumps for him before he finally hits the first bar of the fire escape ladder. With a wheeze of effort, he pulls himself up, his boots hitting the metal rungs.)

[Haruto]: Alright. Now…

(He pauses, followed by a small quizzical noise.)

[Haruto]: Don’t tell me someone else had the same idea. Wait, is that…?

(Rapid footsteps as Haruto closes the gap between him and the unknown figure)

[Haruto]: Hey!

[Damien]: Jesus Christ—what the hell are you doing here?!

[Haruto]: What am I doing here? What are you doing here!? And what’s with the dog mask?

[Damien]: Keep your voice down! Does it look like I’m doing something where I want to be recognized? (He takes in a long breath to steady himself.) Okay. So I’m guessing that Shirou never explained anything to you.

[Haruto]: Apparently not.

[Damien]: Cool. Great. Short version is, there’s some documents in there. Stuff from the capital. He’s getting it, I’m spotting for him.

[Haruto]: …Thanks? That was very forthright of you.

[Damien]: Well, not much point in lying now. It’s a tossup whether or not he’s getting out alive.

(The personal comms Damien is using crackle to life.)

[Shirou]: …Shepherd? What’s going on? Who are you talking to?

[Damien]: ....Fuck me, I left the comms hot—

(He lets out a sigh of frustration, causing a static pop in the comms.)

[Damien]: I mean, obviously Haruto.

[Haruto]: Wait, is that Shirou? Tell him if he does get out of this alive I’m going to kill him. Metaphorically.

[Damien]: …He says hi.

[Shirou]: Don’t tell me he—how much does he know?

[Damien]: I think that’s the least of your worries right now, dude.

[Shirou]: You didn’t invite him, did you? I told you I would be able to explain this on my own.

[Haruto]: So those guys are trying to kill him? Goddamnit, I knew it. What the hell did you get him into?

[Damien]: Would you all just—I can’t talk to three people at once, Christ. Gabriel, hold tight, I’m going to get you an exit strategy. Lucia, away to me. Haruto, firstly, this isn't my fault, it was his idea, secondly, how the hell did you figure out what we were doing?

[Haruto]: Shirou was acting weird and left the hotel, I ran after him, there were some sketchy guys talking about Gabriel, it took me like half a second to figure out that was Shirou.

(A moment of quiet as Damien thinks this through.)

[Damien]: Yeah, okay, good footwork. Probably for the best at this point. (Pause.) Where were those guys you were talking about?

[Haruto]: I don’t know, over…that way, I guess?

(A rustle of fabric as Damien shifts towards the indicated direction.)

[Damien]: Shit. That…was our exit. (A too-long pause before he activates the comms again.) Gabriel, we’ve got…complications.

[Shirou]: I’m pinned, aren’t I?

(Damien swears under his breath. When he speaks, it's uncharacteristically tense and anxious.)

[Damien]: Please don’t do anything stupid, just give me a second to think. I’ll work it out.

[Haruto, internally]: I...don't know what I'm doing. But Shirou isn't the kind of person to save himself. So...

[Haruto]: Hold on. I’ve got an idea.

(He digs into his bag and pulls out a flask. The top unscrews with a slight squeak as the cork pops. He takes a long draw of it.)

[Damien]: (The flattest possible affect you can imagine for him.) Interesting start.

[Haruto]: Look, I’m gonna have to sell this. Tell Shirou to stick to the plan and take that route out. I’m going to distract the guys trying to cut him off.

(He exhales, jumping up and down a few times to roll his shoulders.)

[Haruto]: Okay. Do or die...

(TO BE CONTINUED....)

[amypihcs]

Ho postato 433 volte nel 2022

Sono 296 post in più del 2021!

19 post creati (4%)

414 post rebloggati (96%)

Blog che ho rebloggato di più:

@pizza-hats-of-the-world-1882

@usergreenpixel

@enigma-the-mysterious

@tairin

@kaxen

Ho taggato 273 dei miei post nel 2022

Solo 37% dei miei post non aveva tag

#joachim murat - 14 post

#awsome - 8 post

#so cute - 7 post

#the three musketeers - 6 post

#love this - 6 post

#awsome art - 5 post

#raoul - 5 post

#fantastic - 5 post

#i mean - 4 post

#the boys - 4 post

Longest Tag: 96 characters

#napoleon's abusiveness showing in how many people of his higher rank sent him to go fuck himself

I miei post migliori nel 2022:

#5

AAAAND another one of my mad AUs

Music? On and rocking Courage? Mustered Dignity? Already waved her goodbye OK i’m ready. Apparently summer, having to study for exams i dislike and most of all reading nice books that send me in hyperfixation with the characters give me IDEAS™. After some time spent convincing myself to do it i’ve finally read The Three Musketeers and having loved it to FOLLY, i CLEARLY devoured also Twenty Years After and started the Viscount  of Bragelonne (Athos, i love you, but we’re not talking of you, forgive me my man). This new obsession tonight coupled with my ever present love for LOTR and Silm and since APPARENTLY heat goes up to my head, i thought:

Ok, here we have Aramis, ridiculously always good looking, even at like... 20 years from the first time we meet him he is THE SAME AS ALWAYS and in the Viscount for the little i know for now he didn’t age much either, Devilishly good with horses AND swords (eggrazziearcazzo, you may say, he’s a MUSKETEER) with almost ZERO impulse control (Athos works as impulse control for them, actually) but GREAT cold blood, can apparently sing quite well, some disregard for rules and some great agility and effort in actually always managing to break one of two of those and... oh look, all the boxes check and hear me out. Aramis. Being. MAGLOR FEANORION!!  I talked about this with my darling @tairin, my nice sis who i love and thank very much for being always there to hear me rambling about my obsessions and not having killed me yet. And she is even more of a genius than i suspected! (@joachimnapoleon​ please don’t kill us) She made me give a second check to who ELSE checked all the boxes and here, the illumination.  Good looking Incredible with horses Apparently skilled in verses/songs Devilish with a sword some disregard for rules NOT imposed by himself Joachim Murat. Being Maglor Feanorion.

Tolkien fandom out here (@thiswaycomessomethingwicked​ i get you’re one of us?) tell me if maglor wouldn’t have a portrait of himself like this one of our darling jojo, c’mon! He checks out also the diva personality!! 

Anyway, this was my new silly AU, don’t kill me please, i still have to pass biochemistry and see confirmed my credits for cmcf, i’m too young to die and my cats would miss me😂  I hope you at least laughed a bit form this one silly thing.

12 note - Postate 15 giugno 2022

#4

Happy death day Naps!

Wandering around facebook i found this nice Dumas quote

Do not be deceived, today I am doing better; but I feel the same that the end is approaching. When I am dead, each of you will have the sweet consolation of returning to Europe: you will see one another’s relatives, the other’s friends. As for me, I will see my good ones in heaven...Yes, yes - he added, animating and raising his voice with an inspired accent - yes, Kleber, Dessaix, Bessières, Duroc, Ney, Murat, Massena, Berthier will come to meet me, they will tell me about what we did together, and I will tell the last events of my life: Seeing me again, everyone will go crazy with enthusiasm and glory. We will talk about our wars with Scipio, with Caesar, with Hannibal, and it will be a pleasure... Unless - he added, smiling - they are afraid to see many warriors gathered up there. - A. Dumas, Napoleone.

Just to wish him a happy death-day

12 note - Postate 5 maggio 2022

#3

Guys i just needed to vent out a bit. We can’t find my cat. we looked into the house, outside, all over the sort-of-village where i live (i live in the country) and we can’t find it. Does any of you have an idea of why a cat can be disappeared in such a way? I just know that a moment she was inside and the other she was nowhere to be seen. I just needed to vent out a bit ‘cause i think i’m panicking just as much as before when we where actively looking for her. Do you have any idea of why a cat can just... fly and boh... i don’t even know if she actually is outside the house, even if i looked everywhere in. She’s injured under her neck, she had a dermatitis that we can’t manage to heal, even if she is way better than some months ago. sorry, just some venting out i don’t know how to cope with this

14 note - Postate 3 febbraio 2022

#2

Excerpt from ‘Gioacchino Murat e l’Italia meridionale’ -- presentation of the King

Sooo guys. Some time ago i got a book, ‘Gioacchino Murat e l’Italia meridionale’ which was introduced to me by @joachimnapoleon and after reading it I thought of making a post about it. Hope you will enjoy it!

So let’s get started! In the third part of the book we have a focus on the people who actually governed Naples, starting with the King and the Queen and proceeding with the ministers, describing how their personalities fitted in their roles and how they actually got their work done; this post will be about our favourite King of Naples, Joachim Murat. (the mistakes in the translation are entirely mine)

Here the original text in italian

Guarda il post completo

18 note - Postate 14 maggio 2022

Il mio post numero 1 del 2022

Just arrived!! I'm looking forward to reading it! I'm sure it will be epic!

28 note - Postate 26 novembre 2022

Guarda ora l'Analisi del tuo anno 2022 di Tumblr →

[justafrogandherumbrella]

Welcome to Nowhere: Contracts?

The room goes completely silent. You stare at Bianca, completely in shock, What did she just say?  All around you, people hold their breath, waiting for Bianca to elaborate- but she just stands there, hands on her hips, waiting for a response. 

“Bianca?” Jenny- the cloud girl- whispers cautiously, looking just as shocked as you are. “What do you-” she stops, closing her mouth as Bianca raises a single finger up at her, without even turning around to look. Hush.  

You turn, looking at all the different faces. Emerson’s face has gone from flushed to horrified in  a matter of seconds. WHile you don’t think he likes Mr.Rotary very much, you’re pretty sure he dislikes the idea of killing someone way more. 

Meanwhile, Bianca’s friends look… well, less horrified, you suppose. However, they do look equally shocked.  The rabbit girl- Caitlin, is watching the ordeal anxiously, while Jenny keeps looking as though she wants to speak, but won’t. One thing’s for sure though, they all look a little… fearful? Is that the word? They all look a little fearful of Bianca? Hmmn, maybe? At the very least, they were all wary  of her right now.  

And you are too. Did she really just  say she wants you to murder her father? Mr.Rotary? Or- well, she could be talking about Mayor Miller, you guess; although, you think that’s far less likely. Either way though, she wants you to kill someone? 

Adeyn, however, doesn’t appear particularly wary- or even surprised. No, her face is completely blank as she and Bianca stare at each other. At most, she looks mildly confused at the request. She, too, watches Bianca in silence. WHen it’s clear that the tv-girl had no intentions of elaborating, she finally opens her mouth to speak. 

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me,” Bianca says cooly, picking at her nails as if the conversation bores her. “I- I want you to…” There’s something off about how she’s speaking now. It’s as if she’s trying to hold back tears… or laughter?

“To- ah, kill my-” She bursts out in a fit of giggles. 

Ah, so it’s laughter then.

“Oooooh, oh my god,” she says breathlessly, trying to hold back her convulsions. “I can’t keep this up any longer, can I?” She bends over, bracing her arms against her knees as she wipes an imaginary tear from her imaginary eye. “I was just kidding guys! C’mon, did ya’ really think I would ask you to commit murder? You guys are so silly…” 

The room stays silent for another minute before Bianca’s friends start to laugh awkwardly. They look relieved, but also still nervous at the same time. 

That nervousness combined with  their reactions earlier makes you uneasy. These were Bianca’s friends, right? They were pretty close- or at least, they probably were. So that begs the question: why did they not realize her request was a joke? Why had they taken her seriously? And most importantly: why are they still wary now? It’s like… it’s the kind of thing she would actually request. It’s as if it wasn’t really a joke- not entirely. 

Or maybe you’re just reading too much into things. 

Aderyn, too, joins in with everyone else on the awkward laughter. 

“Haha… yeah… what?”

“I was just joking.” Bianca explains, finally freeing herself from the shackles of her own laughter. “I don’t want you to kill anyone… unless?” She laughs again. “No, seriously though- I’m just kidding. Please don’t kill anyone.” 

“Riiiight,” Aderyn says, looking very… weirded out, to say the least. “So, were you joking about being able to help us too or…”

“Oh, no, no, no,” Bianca says hurriedly, regaining her usual, sophisticated demeanor. “I was being serious like that- and I will need something in return.”

“Uhm-” Emerson intejects, still looking rather worrisome. “It’s not anything concerning… is it?”

She shrugged. “Depends on what you find concerning or not. Here, I’ll explain for you.” She takes a deep breath, turning to face the rest of the group. “Rue, Emerson, Aderyn, and your friend- the one with the planet head- you can do more than just kill monsters, right?”

“Uhm- probab-”

“Hold on, I’m not done,” Bianca says, hushing you. “Lemme explain- so, basically, this town wasn’t always like this. Hell, my dad- Mr.Rotary, wasn’t always like this. But that doesn’t matter,” she explains.  “What matters is how he is now, and what he’s done to change my town into the miserable shithole it is today.” She nods to her group of friends. “My friends and I have consistently failed and ditched class over and over to keep ourselves from graduating, just so we aren’t forced into working for my dad’s weird company- no one even knows what it does!” She’s raising her voice now, clearly becoming more fired up.  “Doesn’t that say something about what’s happened here? Everyone has to work in the same building, doing the same job, and yet know one actually knows what their job is! You can attest to that, right Rue?”

“Oh- uhm, yes.” You say, realizing her question wasn’t rhetorical. 

“Exactly. What I want in return for my help- is yours. I want you to help me figure out what went wrong here, and how I can fix it. So, we’d both be helping each other investigate.” She exhales, calming down a little. ��Which I’m pretty sure both our goals start with investigating my asshole of a father.” 

She turns looking at you. “So, Rue, do we have a deal?”

Oh, she’s asking you. That’s strange. For some reason, you feel like you’ve never been one to take on the decision-making role. You kind of like it actually. 

“Yes.”

[seancekitsch]

pure evil: richie kirsch x reader

warnings/AN: used santa rosa for geographic location of woodsboro, rough sex, richie is a switch, alcohol consumption, murder talk bc of course, ghost face wins au, i have opinions abt things and include them, spoilers for scream 5

Richie Kirsch uses the edge of the bar to itch the edge of his bandage. It's the thousandth time he’s done this while trying to nurse this drink. He wishes he could relax, knowing Woodsboro is seven hours away and it's been a week since the news buzz has died down. It was weird, being poked and prodded by reporters. He never wanted that, only to fix his favorite series, only to right a wrong. Now, he finds himself hiding here amongst a city of millions, just another face in the crowd so someone can tell the story he gave them. He thinks about the drive here every time he itches this fucking bandage on his arm. The stitches are almost completely dissolved, but no one at the hospital had told him they would itch like all hell when they were offering him a world of counseling. Every time the stitches itch, he wonders if he was convincing enough; wonders if the role of traumatized only survivor was filled correctly. He fixates on the whisky neat in front of him, tries to block out the fact that this is the third Tame Impala song in a row this dive has played. He likes Tame, but, c’mon.

It feels like I only go backwards, baby

Every part of me says, "Go ahead"

I got my hopes up again, oh no, not again

Feels like we only go backwards, darling

Richie needs to start going to another bar.

“Hey, Tall, nerdy and handsome” a smooth voice startles him, and he turns.

Just a woman, he thinks, and un-tenses his shoulders as she settles onto the bar stool next to him.

“Hey, uh, Stealthy, rude, and beautiful?” Smoooooth Rich. She laughs, tosses her hair, and almost slams her glass onto the bar. She’s drinking a negroni. Harsh.

“So, listen,” she starts, “My friends and I,”

She gestures over her shoulder, but in no discernible direction. It’s a crowded bar, he wouldn’t even be able to pick them out, even if he was trying to look at anyone else. He was focused on her. She’s, surprisingly, the first person besides the short term landlord and the bartenders who have talked to him since he’s gotten here.

“We have this little bet going, and they offered me to get to the bottom of it.” She grins like a cat who’s gotten the canary.

“So what’s this bet? Shy guy or serial killer?”

Great joke! Killers wouldn’t make jokes like that. She laughs again, this time he can tell, it’s more genuine.

“No, silly! They don’t think they’ve seen you before. But I do. See, we watch the news,” she takes a sip, prolonging her sentence until his palms itch as much as his stitches.

“They don’t think you’re Richie Kirsch. I do.”

He gulps. What the fuck.

“Why- Why do you think that?”

“Well, mostly because they know you, at least as much as the news has shown.”

Oh he doesn’t like this. He doesn’t like this at all. She takes a big sip of her negroni.

“And what does the news show?”

Might as well ask, might as well see what the perception of him is. Her friends will only bolster his alibi. She sighs, shoulders sagging, before tilting her chin towards him.

“Well they- and the news- say you’re a shy, devoted boyfriend, pulled into all of this mess, almost killed by his girlfriend and her kid sister. You’re completely in shock by the event and just trying to remember how to be a person again. You’re lucky to be alive,” she takes another sip off the rim of her glass, “They don’t think you’re you because really, why would you be here? Nobody comes here to blend in.”

Damn, spot on. Thats exactly what he wanted people to think. He’s safe.

“And uh… Not saying they’re wrong, but why do you think they’re wrong?” Richie asks, not trying to seem eager. Bolster, he remembers, bolster your alibi.

She smiles that Cheshire cat grin again, like she was there that night.

“I know the real you,” she states, matter of factly.

“IF-“ he pauses, holding up both hands, “If I’m Richie Kirsch, who is the real me?”

Might as well ask her, see if he’s still getting away with it.

“I think you’re not shy, just calculated. You’re not making a move without seeing the pieces on the board. I think you decided you couldn’t be small town anymore because you’d be like the Harry Styles of whatever shit job you had. I think you’re here, specifically Silver Lake and not West Hollywood, because you’d want to see what happens now that you're a star,” she gestures with her hands, mocking. “You wanna watch the aftermath from a safe distance.”

This was what he could afford, it was crowded, a lot of public spaces, and touristy enough to hide without being the epicenter of where people who care about social media were. At least he hoped his assessment of Silver Lake was correct. He doesn't want to be a star, just the inspiration for the plot.

“No one comes to this city to hide, everyone wants to be seen. I think you want someone to see you, Kirsch.”

He counters.

“And what about you? Are you here to be seen? Or just to judge people passing through?”

She smirks, points at him.

“A diversion! Clever. I’ll answer, but I’m not letting you off the hook.”

She gestures at the bartender with a flick of her ring finger, and she brings her another negroni immediately. This woman is a local.

“If you must know, Richard,” Fuck, the full name, “I’m a writer. Came all the way out here for a pilot for my passion project that got canceled at the last minute by production.”

Richie winces. That's gotta hurt.  

“And uh, what was that passion project?” he asks, wanting her to avoid himself as conversation topic at all cost.

“If you’re not who I really think you are—“ there she goes again with that shit, “you might find it offensive.”

This intrigues him. Richie turns himself on the stool fully towards her, downing the rest of his whisky in confidence.

“And why would some guy,” not himself, “find it offensive?”

She challenges him, waving to the bartender to refill his drink as well.

“I wrote out a Stab TV series. Totally faithful to the originals. I wanted to take the final kills, and then have a season dedicated to recovering from them. Worrying about a killer around the corner. Flashbacks. More psychological horror because slashers can’t play out in a serial setting like television.”

Fuck, Richie thinks he’s fallen in love.

“But it all got cancelled,” you say with a grimace, sipping agin on your negroni, “The reception that that fucking abomination of a last installment left me dead in the water.”

“That sucks, I hated that one too,” he says, hoping he didn’t tell any news outlets that he wasn’t familiar with Stab.

“Well you got to live it. Now I edit scripts for a Hulu Seinfeld reboot following Elaine’s kids. There’s a stupid fucking plot line that they could be Kramer’s kids.” She sighs dramatically, throwing her head into her hand before lifting herself up. He laughs, genuinely.

“But I’m sorry,” he pauses, “about your show,” he forces down one last chuckle about the reboot.

“But why would you think I wouldn’t find that offensive?”

“Because I know you, actually know you.”

Richie shifts in his seat, rests his forearm on the bar, but his bandage doesn't itch him anymore.If she’s going to blow up his alibi, he’s gotta get out or diffuse this fast.

“You just met me, and you didn’t even ask my name.”

“You didn’t ask mine either,” she winks at him, and jabs toward him with her little drink stirrer.

“I guess— I guess I didn’t really have time before you started psychoanalysis,” he offers as his only excuse.

“You’re smart, Not-Richie-Kirsch, but I’m not done with you. Actually!” she exclaims, throwing her drink stirrer into his glass, “I have a bit of a confession.”

Richie has to raise a brow at that. His face scrunches up in confusion, and he pats the back rest of her bar stool to urge her to continue.

“Ah— that got you! There’s no friends. No bet. I’ve been watching you for all of happy hour.” She gestures grandly with her hands, like she’s a genius for coming up with that opening line to get him talking.

“Do you normally do this when you're hitting on guys?” he asks, easing his glass for a big sip, “Like, does this normally work for you?”

He’s flirting, and he’s not sure that's such a good idea. But she’s hot, and probably the most interesting person in this city for him. She smiles that devious smile again, batting her lashes at him.

“Well I’ve never tried it on you before.” Smooth. She reaches perfectly manicured fingers over and plucks her drink stirrer back from his glass, and puts it up to her lips, her tongue slowly licking the warm whisky off of it. She never breaks eye contact. Richie shifts on his stool again, this time adjusting the lap of his pants. She’s evil.

“I know exactly who you are, stranger. I can read you like an open book. And…” she trails off, finishing her drink before turning back to him, shifting so close to him he can feel her body heat. Sickening, just like how hot this city was; but Richie wanted to be burned by it.

“I’m about to invite you back to my place based on how you answer this last question.”

Fuck fuck fuck fuck. Okay, Richie thinks. This is happening. Richie hasn’t had sex he’s actually wanted in so long. He had to use sex as a tool to get to where he is now, but maybe he can live a little, have some fun.

“And that is…?”

She tilts her head until her lips brush his earlobe. He shivers, and grips his glass so hard it might shatter in his hand.

“What did it feel like when you did it?” she whispers in his ear, and his blood runs cold.

“Wh-what?” he struggles to find the words.

“Don’t lie, I know you, remember? I know what you did.”

Her soft lips, her body heat, the way she saw him plainly, it was almost too much. Richie has to hold himself back from grabbing her right here and now.

Fuck it, fuck. She understands. She’s someone just like me, he thinks. She gets it. Stab TV woman, I’m ready to risk it all for you.

She drags her nail across his thigh, drawing a line right above his knee and to a smaller wound and watches as his jaw tenses. She pulls back slightly, just enough to see the look in his eyes, and there’s something dark in his expression. He’s right where he wants her.

“It felt fucking amazing,” he practically growls, and she goes in for the kill. She captures Richie’s lips with her own quickly seeking out to bite at his bottom lip; he tastes copper.

She almost trips up the steps to her loft. It clearly was an apartment carved out of one of those large early 1900s houses in the hills, one of those rentals with a shitty landlord that lives below you. It's very similar to the one Richie now has. He stares at her ass in the tight little skirt she’s wearing. Did she know he was here? Dress up specifically to entice him and get him here? He banishes the thought from his mind by raising his hand, and striking her ass as hard as he can. She yelps as she pitches forward, and then it melts into that laugh he's starting to love.

“I’ll get you for that, Rich!” she calls back over her shoulder, not even looking back at him as she fumbles for her keys. It's all so familiar and so new at the same time, and Richie wonders what she's doing to him. Already giving him nicknames, driving him wild, the promise of a night that could rival an arthouse porno, her nonchalance at his confession to her.

Richie more or less pushes her through the door frame the moment she has the keys worked through the lock, he lifts her top and flings it across the dark room. Her lips capture his own again, violent and passionate, and he groans into the kiss. She's a wildfire. Her arms snake around his neck, fingers coming to scratch against his scalp as he grips her hard by the hips. His lips move to her neck, kissing the underside of her jaw, wet and sloppy. He moans against the column of her throat, savoring the taste of her salty skin. Fuck, more more more. Richie searches for her pulsepoint, licking it before he bits down, hard, punctuating it with a grind of his hips into her. She moans, loud and uninhibited, and her body arches into him.

“When-” she sighs, breathless when she pulls away, “When you uh- did your girlfriend, how did you do it?”

Richie couldn't possibly get harder, but she was trying to make it happen. This woman is pure evil, fucked up.

“Do you want me to show you how I did it?” Richie asks, voice low and husky, trying to choke back a groan when her hand reaches down to cup him through his jeans.

“Uh huh,” she nods.

“Lay down then,” he commands, and her eyes dart over to the couch, “On the floor.”

She lets out a breathy little giggle as she obeys his command, making a show of getting on her knees first. Oh, she's  probably so good at sucking cock, he thinks. She lays down on the floor, hair splaying out around her like a halo though she's far from angelic.

He slowly joins her on the ground, one of his knees slotting between her thighs right where they meet. She sighs at the contact.

“It was just,”

He makes a fist, curling his fingers around an imaginary knife.

“Like this.”

He slowly brings the fist down against her breast, her flimsy mesh bralette leaving nothing to his imagination. She's warm; Sam didn't feel warm by the time he did this to her. She looks up at him, eyes blown wide and lips swollen from all the kissing. He keeps moving, opening his fist to grasp a handful of her breast, hard. She whines, and he decides wants to hear that noise over and over again. She grinds against his knee, needy and panting now, her hands planted firmly on his shoulders, nails digging into his skin through his shirt, her tight little skirt riding up her hips to show off her matching underwear. That got her wet.

“Listen,” he says, trying to keep it together, “Your boobs are perfect. Like, hands down, best I've ever seen. They're cinematic.”

Her back arches off of the wooden floor, blooming at the sound of praise. She likes that, good.

“Good enough to be your final girl?”

Shit, how does she manage to sound so put together when he can feel how messed up he’s making her?

He chuckles, hand flexing and squeezing again.

“Of course, female empowerment and elevated horror or whatever.”

She arches her back again under him, this time in cackling laughter.

“Elevated horror is a word invented to pretend that horror only just recently started saying shit with meaning. Elevated horror is gen z shit,” she says between giggles.

Richie’s chest tightens.

“I can’t believe you just said that. Will you marry me?” he jokes, and she bites her lip. Fuck, that’s sexy.

“Get your dick out, Kirsch”

She doesn't have to tell him twice. Richie pulls back, wincing as his knees rock against the wooden floors. He makes quick work of his belt buckle, but fumbles with the button of his fly. He curses his nerves, the fact he cannot remember a time he was ever this fucking hard in his lifetime. She wiggles out from under him, quickly pushing herself to her knees as well, shimmying her bralette straps down off of her shoulders. The flimsy mesh and lace hangs, a useless garment across her ribcage now as she waits eagerly for him.

Richie stands as he finally gets the fucking button, and the zipper is a breeze. She leans forward, eye level at his hips as she hooks her fingers around not only his jeans but his boxers too.

Holy fuck, this is happening. He’s been thinking about exactly this from the second she stuck her drink stirrer in his whisky. Wanted her mouth all over, wanted her to take whatever she wanted from him. Even without her confession, her little game of cat and mouse, her dangerous level of information, he wanted this specifically to be happening. Ghostface wins again.

She yanks the fabric down to his ankles, and he helps by kicking his vans off and helping her get his feet out of the jeans to fling off to some unknown corner of the room.

She almost gasps at the sight of him, rock hard and straining, already leaking and needy for her. Her hands plant themselves on his thighs, right above the knee. She looks up, and he’s trapped under her gaze. She doesn’t blink as she licks the entirety of the underside of his length, never tearing her eyes off his.

This is it, he thinks, he’s gonna embarrass himself in front of this woman.

His cock twitches, and that’s all the encouragement she needs. She wraps her lips around his tip, and then presses forward. He can feel himself hit the back of her throat, but she doesn’t gag.

This woman is otherworldly, he thinks. She bobs her head up and down on his length, taking meticulous care to swirl her tongue around the tip every time. She wants this to be good for Richie, wants to give him everything. He’s more attractive than he looked on the news, something she’s grateful for. She wants to see how far this really goes. He watches her intently, and she can tell he’s holding back his moans. That won’t do.

Richie is trying to hold on for dear life, knowing that she’s in control of him here. Her mouth is so hot and wet and welcomes him in, he could literally pass out from how good she’s making him feel. He has to hold on, he thinks, digging his fingernails into the palms of his hands that he’s balled up into fists.

It’s when she cups his balls that she gets her first reaction out of him. A full body shiver runs up his spine, ending in a harsh moan he can’t bite back. There we go, she thinks.

His hands hastily gather up her hair, holding it back clutched in his right fist as she continues. He tries not to pull too hard, but when she looks at him like that it’s hard not to give in to those urges. She takes it like a champ, actually moaning around him as he gets rougher, his hips starting to thrust on their own accord. She hollows out her cheeks around the head of his cock, and that's almost enough to send him over the edge right there.

“Oh, I knew you’d be good at this,” he moans, letting his head fall back as he does.

She wants to chuckle, wants to ask ‘So you were thinking about this too?’ but she doesn't, only moans again and takes him deeper into her mouth.

That's the last straw for Richie, who can feel every muscle in his body tensing, every nerve pulsing, the sound of blood rushing in his ears.

He pulls her off of him by her hair, not caring really if it hurts anymore. She stares up at him the way a tourist stares at the statue of David. He would let her finish the job, she should, she’s talented. But Richie only has one thing on his mind.

“Ffffuck that feels amazing but listen, honey, I have to get inside you right now,” he groans, trying to hold back ragged breaths. Something in her eyes changes, something primal. Is this what he looked like before he did Sam in?

She nods her head slowly, mouthing ‘okay’ but not saying anything. She slowly rises to her feet to join him, and now the setting sun casts her in red, makes her something otherworldly.

“Your turn to get on the floor,” her voice is raspy, and he’s almost proud that he did that to her throat.

“Yeah?” he asks, as if he has time to question her, as if he didn’t need to split her open thirty seconds ago.

“You don’t fuck me, I fuck you.” she states with finality.

Holy fuck this girl is gonna kill him. He wastes no time getting down onto the floor, the wood against his bare ass as he whips his tee shirt off over his head, not being careful of the bandage on his arm. Oh well, he’ll deal with that later. She stops pulling her skirt down to admire him, he watches as her eyes trace all of the healing cuts on his chest sure to scar. Entry wounds, exit wounds, in, out. She’s got this sweet smile on her face, something he can’t fully place. Admiration? He leans forward to grab the skirt bunched up in her hands, and pulls it the rest of the way down to her ankles so she can step out of it. In milliseconds, her panties are off and she’s straddled on top of him, heat radiating from her and he’s so, so close.

“Be a good boy, okay?” she asks, a sweet tone to match that smile she gave him. He wants to obey her, every word, just as much as he wants to break her. He wants to destroy her, fuck her so hard he mangles her for anyone else who would even think of touching her. But he will obey, he decides; he nods eagerly at her and holds her hands as she sinks down onto his length.

She doesn’t hold back any of her moans, he notices. Doesn’t try to control or suppress her feelings or urges. She places his hands back on her chest as she starts to rise and fall in his lap. He watches the muscles in her legs as they tense and work and fuck, the entire thing is art. It could be a shot from an HBOMax original, maybe a Stab themed Natural Born Killers type show.

“Fuck— Richie, another question?” she says after a particularly deep thrust down, earning him a whine that he won’t ever erase from his memory.

“Yeah?” he pants, shifting his weight so he can thrust up into her as well; a pleasant look of shock flashes across her face, then that wicked smile again as she adjusts her pace to keep up with him.

“Ever get hard while you did it?” She refuses to say the word kill, but even still, he chuckles and nods his head, hands sliding from her chest to her hips to hold her in place. He feels her clench around him at his confession. Oh, this woman’s a fucking psycho like him.

“Oh, did you like that?” Richie teases, feeling sweat start to trickle down his shoulders.

Without warning, her perfectly manicured hand finds its way around his throat, pressing down against his windpipe. It isn’t the sexy kind of choking, it’s the kind that kills brain cells.

“I’d like it more if you made me cum,” she practically hisses at him. If Richie wasn’t already harder than solid steel, he would probably die.

His fingers dig into her hips, hard enough to bruise as he starts to thrust up into her with vigor. He wants to be good, for her. He holds her as she bounces, rolling his hips every few thrusts to get that whine to fall from her lips again. He’s eager to please, apparently, and he realizes he would do anything she asked if she asked him like this.

“I probably-” he stutters, still thrusting, still choking, “I probably won't last long”

She meets his admission by throwing her head back, giving him a show.

“Then don't, just make me cum first, Ghostface,” she sighs and flexes her hand on his throat, not at all knowing the effect she has on him.

He moans again, at the name she uses, and pumps into her as hard as he can. He hopes he bruises her thighs from this, makes her feel him for days. She writhes in his grasp, quickly feeling herself approaching the edge. He does that thing again, with his hips, and that whine tumbles from her mouth again, this time feeling like an electric shock. She lurches forward, hands landing on either side of his head, giggling as he doesn't let up his pace.

She's tight, impossibly tight, and he knows she's close. Richie’s holding on, but just barely. His back is straining from the movement, but the hurt is good, a good burn. Muscles impossibly hot, just like the heat she radiates. He switches up his movements, grinding into her at this new angle, and she practically screams in his ear, but he doesn't mind. He grinds into her, hard, and he can feel her coming apart around him. When she comes, it doesn't shatter her; instead it comes in waves. He feels her stutter and stall, her muscles tense and un-tense, the way she squeezes his cock. And when he finishes, inside her, it's like a crack of thunder. His arms come up around her back, his bandaged arm pressing against the back of her ribcage. He holds her close as he shakes, moans against her as he loses what little composure he has. She’s thoroughly wrecked him.

She kisses his shoulder and the side of his neck as she works through the aftershocks, little shakes and chills running through her body as he holds her close, works her through it. Its almost dark now, and he’s sure she looks as beautiful in the moonlight as she did in the blood red sun.

Suddenly, she lifts herself up, shaking like a fawn finding its footing.

She places her hands firmly on both sides of Richie's face, leaning down slowly to kiss his face. This kiss is different, gentle for the first time, and chaste. He breathes her in, allowing his eyes to fall shut inhaling something woodsy but sickeningly sweet. Richie needed this, her; this calmness spreading under his skin, a euphoria he only felt that night. Ironically, laying on the floor just the way he is now. Post good sex haze feels similar to bleeding out, he concludes. The way he feels like he's floating, the strangeness of his pulse, the weight of his limbs, and hers atop him. Richie thinks back to when the Woodsboro police found him, with Sam on top of him, just like this woman is now, a puddle slowly forming below him, dazed and smiling.The woman on top of him presses her face into the side of his neck, letting her arms go slack on the ground. Amber might have died, but she wasn't part of his plan, his vision. She was easy to manipulate, he just had to send a few texts. She was a means to an end and Richie was alive, and Richie could live to actually enjoy a new legacy for Stab. And now he laid here, with a woman who had him figured out. A writer, at that. Richie for a moment considered her to be like Amber, but somewhere between sucking his cock and her hand around his throat, he decided she wouldn’t be another person to take the fall for him, wouldn't be another body in this franchise. But she has every right to think he would. He hopes she doesn’t.

She likes being on top of him, she thinks, the feeling of being in control of a man like this. Ghostface, her favorite. She’s glad she was right about him.

“Hey, hey I have a question for you,” Richie whispers against her lips.

She pulls herself up on her hands, but only far enough to make eye contact. He could easily kiss her still from this position.

She smiles, encouraging him to continue. She’s already asked him so many this evening, so he might as well be allowed to have one.

“Can I uh- Can I see that script you've got? The pilot?” He sounds almost shy in the moment, as if his cock wasn’t still buried inside of her, as if he hadn’t fully admitted to several murders tonight.

“Uh… yeah,” she hesitates first, caught off guard, “Do you have, like, some input for me?”

He laughs, and Richie cups her face in his hands gently.

“I’m gonna be honest, I’m not sure I have the most accurate perspective for your idea.”

Another joke about something he really shouldn't be joking about, but she brings it out of him.

The next thing she says shocks him.

“Maybe I can scrap it and we can come up with your reboot together. I’m sure there’s a few scenes you'd like to rewrite. You are the new hero, after all.”

Richie Kirsch is hard again immediately.

[torapologist]

𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚒𝚌𝚑𝚒𝚛𝚘 𝚜𝚊𝚗𝚘 𝚡 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

this is for @bokuroskitten “Are you shy!?” collab. Happy late Valentine’s Day! c: wc: 1.5k cw: nsfw, virgin!shin, gn!reader, drinking, smoking cigarettes, handjob, drunk sex kind of but not really, not proofread an: i don’t really know how to write dialogue but there’s a first time for everything ig anyways i want to bully shinichiro 

Minors please do not interact.

Shinichiro Sano was your typical boy next door. If you ignore the whole ‘notorious gang leader’ thing, that is. But, as someone who grew up next to him, you just couldn’t stop seeing him as this silly little Shin-chan he always was.

Sure, he is a bit taller now and his eyes are more mature, and now he smells like cologne and not cheap kids body sprays anymore. And you see everyday how he behaves with his little siblings or when he gets sweaty from work with oil marks on his face…

You have a crush on Shinichiro Sano.

But you knew he would never look at you as more than a friend. You have seen him flirt so many times with other people. Sure, he got rejected each time you were there, but you just thought he had better luck when you were absent.

The two of you had a tradition that at least once a month, if not more, Shin and you would meet up at his bike shop after closing and spend the night drinking and catching up. Tonight was one of those nights at his shop, just like any other. You brought the wine, the cheapest one you could find, and he brought the snacks, probably stolen from his siblings.

You chug down a horrid mix of wine, coke, ketchup and some other mysterious sauce you found in the work shops mini fridge. Shinichiro laughed at the grimace you made while trying to keep it down.

It was his turn now, and afraid of your revenge, he said truth.

“What’s your body count?” you ponder for a bit.

Shinichiro looked anywhere but you, quickly sipping his drink.

“What kind of body count you mean? You do realize you’re talking to a member of the Black Dragons here...” He was joking, trying to ease his own nerves and maybe change the topic completely.

“Shin, I know you have never killed a man. I’m pretty sure you have never killed a bug. I’m asking how many people have you fucked.”

Well, here goes nothing: “None.” He tried to seem like he wasn’t embarrassed by that fact. He knew he shouldn’t be, but couldn’t help the feeling.

“You’re joking!” Your eyes widened in surprise. This definitely wasn’t the answer you expected.

“Nope. Your turn.” He quickly changed the subject and the game continued on.

You decided to let him change the subject. The evening continued as any other between the two of you would. You kept drinking and playing dumb games, and soon the trashcan was filled with empty cigarette packs and empty wine bottles as you got more comfortable.

“Okay, your turn. Truth or dare?” Shin asked as your laughter died down.

“Hm… truth!”

“Have you ever had a crush on one of my friends?” He thought he was the funniest man in the world at that moment.

“Damn, were you waiting for that one?” The question caught you by surprise. Mainly because you didn’t know how to exactly answer. While his friends were good looking, nice guys you had the hots for the scrawny leader the group and didn’t exactly know if he counts in the question as well.

You pondered for a bit before deciding a neutral “Kind of…” would suffice.

“What do you mean kind of? Tell me who!”

“I’m not telling you! Wait for the next round.” Now it was your turn to sip your drink and struggle with the lighter all in hopes of avoiding the question.

He continued to annoy you, refusing to continue the game before you tell him.

“Come on, I promise I won’t tell him!” Shinichiro lifted his pinkie to prove to you that he is serious.

“Oh, if I tell you, he will know.” You thought you were mysterious and smart with that answer, but alcohol has been starting to slowly get to you and you wondered if it would be funnier to tell him the truth.

“You don’t trust me that much? C’mon, I won’t tell!” He lifted his pinkie even higher.

You wrapped your finger around his and looked at your hands. The two of you would look really cute together: “It was you, you idiot.”

“Me?” Shinichiro flushed brightly from his neck to the tips of his ears. You always found that so endearing. You nodded.

Shinichiro quickly looked down, his pinkie tightening around yours.

“Do you, maybe, still kinda like me? Because maybe I kinda like you too… right now”

A lot of emotions went through you at once, but you decided it’s now or never. You pressed your lips against his, catching him off guard. It takes him a bit to move his lips against yours, but when he does, oh, it’s heavenly. It’s messy and it’s sweet, the definition of puppy love and silly first kisses. Shins inexperienced, but he’s a quick learner. His lips are chapped and he tastes of wine and tobacco and you could drown in it all.

You pull back and place your hands on his cheeks. They are so, so warm and even in the faint street light you can see their red tint. He can barely look at you and you are inches away from his face.

“Shiiin, are you getting shy?” You tease.

“What? No!” he still refuses to look at you.

“Awww, cute”

“Don’t aww me!” He pulls you back in for a kiss but when your hands fall in his lap you find out why he hasn’t been able to look you in the eyes. You palm at his bulge and can feel him shudder.

“I-I’m sorry! This is so embarrassing!” He pushes you away and scoots a bit.

“It’s not, baby. Tell me, have you done this before?” You coo.

His heart skips a beat and the nickname. He always wondered if you were the sickly sweet pet names kind of person.

“N-no..” He glances at you.

“Do you want to do it? Anything you’re comfortable with.”

“Yes, please.” Shinichiro fully looks at you now, his mind going wild. Will he fuck tonight?

You kiss at his neck while unbuttoning his jeans. Shinichiro doesn’t know what to do with his hands, so you guide him. What he lacks in experience, he makes up for in eagerness.

You pull his already hard cock out and just as he is about to stutter an apology or excuse you spit on his tip and he moans.

“Getting excited already, are we?” You look at him and he swears he could se stars in your eyes.

“Very much so.” He lets out a breathy laugh and gets more comfortable.

“Don’t keep quiet, baby boy, I want to hear your pretty sounds.” You kiss behind his ear and Shinichiro thinks he is going to explode.

You’re gentle with him, always checking how he is doing and what feels nice. Everything feels nice. Your hands are so warm and tug at him just at the right pace. And the fact that it’s somebody else, the fact that its you who is playing with his dick is making him lose his mind.

Shinichiro is trying so hard not to cum too fast and embarrass himself, but when your pace picks up and your other hand starts playing with his chest he knows it’s over soon. When you tip him over the edge he know this is it. He is now in love with you and will never be able to jack off again. This is pure bliss and your little pecks on his face are making the feeling increase tenfold. He wonders what would it feel like inside you and he thinks he is about to get hard again.

As Shinichiro’s breathing calms, you get up and he shivers at the cold.

“Where are you going?” He asks with a pout and you could laugh at the worry in his voice.

“Just to clean up. Want some water?”

“Yeah, sure.”

This was such a wild night. Shinichiro notices that the sun will rise soon. He wonders what will that mean for your friendship. Relationship? He always thought you were way out of his league. Plus you always saw how he makes a fool of himself while flirting. He hopes that by the morning he finds the guts to officially ask you out.

“Hey Y/n?” he asks toward the empty hallway after he hears the water stop.

“Yeah?”

“Do you wanna cuddle?”

Your giggle echoes through the night and it’s the most beautiful sound Shin has ever heard. He does wonder how do you moan though.

Shinichiro leans against the wall when he sees you approaching and you throw yourself besides him and the conversation starts to flow once again like nothing happened.

You spend the rest of the night still chatting and giggling, but this time it’s much more quiet and sweet. Playing with each other’s fingers, you share little pecks and almost forget the time when he is supposed to open the shop again.

…

[slasherhaven]

Otis Driftwood planning to kill you until he actually sees you Part 2

Request: The reader is completely okay with the killing and everything and just acts like what happens at the Firefly house is an everyday normal thing. @tori-supernatural 

Part 1 to this is HERE

After meeting Otis in that bar and going home with him, you spent the night at the Firefly home. The only time you found yourself alone since arriving at the house was the next morning, when you woke up in Otis’ bed without him laying beside you.

You did think it was a silly thing to think but you were sure that you and the strange man had made a connection, there was certainly something between you both that was a little more than a one night stand. Though, you weren’t one to overstay your welcome and you believed that if the two of you were supposed to meet again, you would.

So, you climbed out of bed, gathered your clothes, and got dressed. Otis still hadn’t returned so you figured that you would just leave the bedroom, you’d probably bump into him or Baby anyway.

The house looked a little different during the day, and without Otis guiding you around, but still just as strange as you had originally thought it to be. As you approached the stairs, you could hear noises and people talking, you hoped it was Otis or Baby and you weren’t about to have an awkward encounter with another family member.

Reaching the bottom of the stairs, you followed the voices into the kitchen. Once yo reached the doorway, you froze, staring at the sight and trying to process what could have happened.

On the ground, in the middle of the kitchen, lay the young man that had come home with Baby last night, in a pool of his own blood. Dead. 

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Otis snapped at his sister, neither of them noticing your presence in the doorway.

“It ain’t my fault he got out” she scoffed.

“It was your responsibility” he reminded her, you looking between them both as they both talked. You couldn’t help but notice how casually they talked, sounding more like Baby had broken something rather than killed someone. It was all just too nonchalant. 

“If you had stuck to the plan instead of getting laid, none of this would’ve happened” Baby insisted. This murder seemed more like a inconvenience than a traumatic event to them.

“Shit...Y/n” Otis muttered, as if he was just remembering that he had left you in bed upstairs. 

“You better get her outta here before she sees this” his sister advised. 

“Too late” you finally spoke up after coming to your sense, though definitely not reacting the way you should or a normal person would. But it got their attention, making them look at you. “What happened to him?” you asked, leaving the siblings to try to figure out what the hell you were thinking. 

“He tried to run but I got to him first” Baby told you with a small shrug, once again acting like things were completely normal. If you weren’t going to freak out, neither was she, she already had to chase one person down today. 

“Right...” you nodded slowly, still trying to get a grasp of what exactly was going on here.

“You’re a little too calm” Otis squinted at you. 

“She’s processing” Baby rolled her eyes at her brother, like he was being oblivious. 

“I’m fine” you assured them, making them both look at you with confused expressions. “C’mon, it’s not like I thought you two  were model citizens when I met you, I knew you were dangerous, plus this guy can’t be Baby’s type. He was just an easy target” you shrugged. 

“He wasn’t easy, he was fast!” Baby protested, sounding offended by the suggestion that this man had been an easy kill, like you had been underestimating her. It amused you a little. 

“If last night taught me anything, it’s that you’re a little fucked up” Otis commented, making you blush slightly, “but this is a whole new level.” 

“That’s rich coming from someone who just killed a man” you scoffed.

“Actually, I killed him, thank you” Baby huffed, crossing her arms over her chest. 

“Right, sorry” you apologised with a small nod. “But this is a regular thing for you guys, right?” you accused more than asked. 

“How’d ya guess that?” Otis questioned, still squinting at you, trying to figure you out. Ever since he met you at the bar, you had been a mystery to him. 

“You’re also way too calm, and it sounds like you had a plan last night. I put the pieces together” you stated. You’re matched casualness must have thrown him off, he knew there was something about you that drew him in but it seemed like the two of you were more of a match than he had originally thought.

“She’s clever” Baby grinned, looking to her brother. 

“Fuckin’ hell, Baby” Otis rolled his eyes, annoyed with her interruptions, as he walked up to you. “I knew you were fucking crazy from the moment I saw ya” he told you as he grabbed your arm roughly, pulling you out of the kitchen.

“Welcome to our world!” Baby called after you with a laugh, knowing that Otis would definitely plan on keeping you around now.

Otis dragged you into the living toom before pushing you forward and releasing your arm. 

“When you approached me at the bar, you were planning on killing me right?” you asked as you turned to him, not seeming all that phased by the possibility.

“Something along those lines” Otis confessed, staring you down. 

“Why didn’t you?” you asked curiously. 

“Sensed the fucked up in ya, looks like I was right” he teased with a slight smirk. 

“Ain’t you observant” you smirked right back. “So, what now?” you asked. 

“I’ll give ya a choice” Otis hummed, eyeing you up and down, sizing you up all over again. “I know ya ain’t going to the cops, so ya can walk out that door and forget about this place...or I can show ya everything” he offered. Otis considered himself a good judge of character, and for the most part he was, and he was sure that you were going to answer the way he wanted you too. 

“I ain’t got nowhere to be...show me” you couldn’t help but wonder what else this man had in store for you, and you found yourself needing to know everything.  

“Oh, we’re goin’ to have a lot of fun” Otis smirked as he stepped towards you, throwing an arm around your shoulders. 

“You promise?” you asked as you looked up at him, stopping him from guiding you through the room by turning to him and wrapping your arms around his waist. 

“Just hope ya can handle it” he was teasing you, something about the way he was looking at you told you that he thought you might be able to handle it and he was looking forward to it.

“I can handle a lot” you assured him confidently. 

Otis’ smirk grew before he lent down, capturing your lips in a heated kiss, one that you instantly returned. 

“We’ll see” he pulled away from the kiss, seeing how you smiled up at him with a shine in your eyes.

You unwrapped your arms from around his waist but he kept one of his around your shoulder, guiding you through the house to show you all of the family’s dark secrets.

Maybe you were right, you and Otis were meant to cross paths, and maybe you were meant to end up here the whole time. What you knew for sure was that you would be sticking around for a while and things were about to get much more interesting.

[sunrisefairy]

Last chances

Pairing: George Weasley x reader Warning: Alcohol, swearing, angst (but worth it i promise) Summary: Y/N is getting married. To someone that isn’t George. 

A/N: this was written for @inglourious-imagines​​ 1K writing challenge (i just realised i didnt tell you before hand what prompts i was gonna do so i hope thats okay) based off the prompts ‘you need to leave’ and ‘d-did you just k-kiss me?’

Taglist: @hufflepuff5972​ @inglourious-imagines​ @klausdatprettyboi​ @georgeweasleyswhre​ @horrorxweasley​ @amourtentiaa​ send me an ask if you would like to be added

———————————————————————————————————

George felt all the air being sucked out of his lungs as he read over the golden cursive words printed onto the crisp white paper. He could feel Fred’s pitiful stare burning holes into the side of his head, but he couldn’t tear his eyes away from the paper in his grasp. George’s brain was overflowing with thoughts, but his head was empty at the same time, as if every time he reached out his thoughts were dissolving into liquid and slipping through his fingers.

By the time George managed to make eye contact with Fred, his eyes were red and burning with tears, the only thought he could wrap his fingers around was the one which was destroying him the most, “she’s getting married?”

~~~

The sun was beating down harshly making the sand feel like tiny grains of lava, but George didn’t care. It was the middle of summer and the Weasley family had invited the Y/L/N’s to the beach. John and Nancy Y/L/N had been very good friends with Molly and Arthur Weasley for many years having met during high school. But soon after graduation John and Nancy got married and decided to travel the world which they had done for a few years before having their daughter Y/N. They moved around a lot while Y/N was a baby, still wanting to explore and see what the world had to offer. But now, Y/N was 7 and they decided it would do her and themselves some good to settle down somewhere, plant some roots so to speak. Which is how they ended back in the small town John and Nancy grew up in, the one where the Weasleys were still living.

Giving that it was summer, and the weather was reaching high temperatures the Weasley family decided to spend the day at the beach so the children could kill some energy and excitedly invited their old friends, John and Nancy to catch up.

George was particularly thrilled not only because he loved days at the beach playing with his siblings and making sandcastles just to pretend he was a giant and stomp on them, but he couldn’t wait to meet Y/N. His parents had told him and Fred that Y/N was their age and although Fred wasn’t very interested in playing with a girl and would much rather prank Ron, George had a good feeling about Y/N.

George had just finished constructing a sandcastle he named ‘Castle Weasley’ and was about to jump on it when his mum calls for him. He drags his bare feet through the hot sand over to his parents who are chatting with 2 people he doesn’t recognise.

“Fred, George this is John and Nancy, and this is their little girl Y/N.” Molly gestures to the timid girl hiding behind her mum’s leg.

Reluctantly Y/N moves from her previous hiding spot and stares doe eyes up at the twins in front of her. George’s mouth is dry and his palms are clammy, but he doesn’t think it’s from the blistering heat. George Weasley is staring at the most beautiful girl he’s ever seen.

~~~

It’s been 3 weeks since Y/N’s wedding invitation arrived in the mail and George had shoved it under a pile of bills he was also planning to ignore. Although he doesn’t need to see the invitations to remember the words which were written on the paper ‘kindly join us for the wedding of Y/N L/N and William Chapman. Saturday the seventeenth of April at 11 o’clock.’

It was the 10th of April today, just 7 days till Y/N’s wedding. George felt bile rising in the back of his throat every time he thinks about Y/N marrying someone which wasn’t himself. George has had a crush on the girl ever since he first met her that day on the beach. Back then he only ever saw it as a silly little crush which he hoped he’d eventually get over. But years went on and his crush only grew and grew until it was suffocating. When they reached high school, George planned to tell Y/N about his feelings but chickened out each time, scared of ruining their friendship.

To be honest George always felt (maybe he just hoped) that him and Y/N were meant for each other and sooner or later they’d be together. He held tightly onto this when Y/N started dating William. George was optimistic that William and Y/N’s relationship wasn’t serious and eventually they’d break up and George could finally confess his feelings. All of that went down the drain the second George open up that stupid envelope.

“I ran into Y/N today. At the store,” Fred says carefully trying to gage his brother’s reaction to her name. George just offers a grunt in response, eye staring blankly at the tv in front of him. “she asked about you, wants to know if you’re going to the wedding since she hasn’t heard anything from you.”

George doesn’t reply. Fred just sighs, ”c’mon mate. You’re really not going to go? It’s Y/N we’re talking about here. She’s your best mate.”

George racks his ringers through his already messy hair, squeezing his eyes closed. “That’s exactly why I can’t go. It’s Y/N. How can I sit there and watch Y/N marry some other guy and pretend I’m okay with it?” George feels tears threatening to fall down his cheeks, it’s a wonder he has any tears left to cry.

Fred moves closer to George on the couch, wrapping his arm around his twin who chokes out a sob, “I know buddy, I know it fucking hurts.”

~~~

Since graduating high school George and Y/N made it tradition to catch up once a week if not more so they wouldn’t lose touch. But their newfound busy lives with university and work meant they hadn’t seen each other for a month. They finally found a day that they were both free and decided to meet up for coffee. George had paid for Y/N’s latte while she found them a table by the window. He set their drinks down admiring how beautiful Y/N looked, she was practically glowing.

“So, Y/N what’s new with you? I feel like it’s been forever since I’ve seen you,” George takes a long sip of his coffee.

George knows Y/N must have some important news for him, judging solely off the smile that she’s failing to conceal. “Well, if you must know. I met someone.”

The colour drains from George’s face and he coughs trying to regain his composure. “Like a boy?”

“Yes a boy silly, his name is William and I met him at the library. It was actually really funny I was turning down one of the aisles and he” George drowns out Y/N’s voice, he can hear his heart thumping in his chest, threatening to jump out.

George knows, he knows it’s his own fault for not telling Y/N how he feels sooner. He knows he doesn’t have anyone else to blame but himself, but it doesn’t make this hurt any less. Sweet, kind Y/N, who had gently cradled George’s heart unknowingly since they were 7, has squeezed it between her slender fingers like a stress ball.

“George?” Y/N words break him from his trance.

“That sounds amazing Y/N, I’m really happy for you.”

~~~

It’s Monday and Y/N has been trying to contact George for days with no luck. She ran into Fred last Saturday who said George has just been super busy with work, she didn’t believe it one bit, she needed to find out why George has been ignoring her.

She pushes the store door open and the bell above chimes announcing her arrival.

“Sorry we’re closed for the day!” a voice travels through the store before it’s owner exits the storeroom to see who the culprit is, who clearly cannot read the ‘closed’ sign hanging on the door.

George’s eyes land on Y/N who is standing by the front door unmoving and twiddling with her fingers, playing with an engagement ring that seems out of place on her left hand. “What are you doing here?”

Y/N steps closer, not noticing the way George takes a small step back, “I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever.”

George doesn’t speak, he’s certain that his voice would be unsteady if he did. Y/N hates the silence, so speaks again, “I’m getting married you know, on Saturday.”

George sucks in a breath, turning his back to fix one of the displays. “Yeah, congratulations,” he mumbles.

“I didn’t know if you got the invitation or not, kind of expected you to call.” Y/N shoves her hands into the pockets of her jeans, moving so she is standing beside George who is avoiding her gaze. “What’s the matter Georgie?”

George shakes his head, “kind of fast isn’t it? Why the rush to get married to that twat?”

Y/N rolls her eyes, ever since George met William, he made it very clear he didn’t like the bloke. “George stop it. He proposed and I said yes. We figured why wait to start our lives together, y’know? So on Saturday I thought that-“

“-I’m not going.” George’s words felt like a hot knife to Y/N’s chest. When George finally mets her gaze he continues, “I’m not going to the wedding Y/N.”

“Why?”

“Because! Because William is a prick and doesn’t deserve you. I can’t sit there and watch you marry some idiot.” George knows his voice is getting louder and that his hands are flailing around but he doesn’t care. “He’s an absolute tosser! You deserve better than William.” You deserve me.

“William has done nothing but love me, George.” The thought of George not being there at her wedding breaks her heart. George was her best friend; how could she not have her best friend at the wedding. “Are you really not going to be there for me?” Y/N’s voice is quiet and timid.

It shatters George to see her so upset and the next words almost kill him.

“No, I won’t be there.”

~~~

Click.

Click.

Click.

“Okay mum that’s enough photos now!” Y/N giggles trying to hide her face behind her hands.

“Just one more please! George put your arm around her this time.” Nancy says holding the camera up to her face.

George wraps his arm around Y/N waist pulling her closer to him very aware of the way Y/N leans into his side. It’s the night on the school dance and somehow he had gathered enough courage to ask Y/N to go with him, she agreed of course and now they were standing out the front of Y/N’s house in front of the rose bushes while Y/N and George’s parents took photos.

“Okay now one with the four of you together,” Molly says pushing Fred and his date over to the rose bush. The four of them stood together smiling at all the flashing cameras which almost blinded them.

Molly wipes a tear that slips down her cheek, she always got emotional during things like this, “I cannot believe my little babies are growing up. 16 and going to a school dance with their gorgeous dates.”

“Right mum that’s enough, we’re gonna be late,” George groans although he didn’t mind having his arm around Y/N’s middle.

Molly nods agreeing, “right fine! Don’t want to keep you from your dance, have fun!”

Arthur drops the 4 of them off at the school hall reminding them he’d be back at 12 to pick them up.

All 4 of them spend most of the night dancing together and laughing at Fred’s questionable dance moves. Soon the upbeat song comes to an end and a much slowly one started playing. Immediately Fred extends a hand to his date, “m’lady. Care to dance?”

George turns his body to face Y/N who is gazing up at his tall frame, he gulps “Y/N do you wanna dance with me?”

The smile that spreads across her face could light up the room, “yes please.”

For the remainder of the night George and Y/N sway slowly to the music, Y/N moves closer to George until her head is resting against his chest and his arms find their place on her hips.

Y/N can hear George humming to the music above her and she smiles giving his shoulders a small squeeze, then whispers so quietly she’s worried George doesn’t hear her. “I hope we are always best friends Georgie.”

“I promise we will be love.”

~~~

Friday night and George hasn’t spoken to Y/N since she visited the shop. He’s ignored her phone calls and text messages; she came into the shop again on Wednesday, but George locked himself in the backroom telling Fred he had to do stocktake.

George could feel himself falling apart, Y/N was upset with him, Fred was annoyed at his childish behaviour. George felt himself fall deeper and deeper as his heartache and sorrow grew stronger every time he remembered Y/N’s engagement. The only thing which seems to numb his feelings was the alcohol.

At this point George wasn’t sure how much he had had to drink, but the buzz running through his system was better than the bitterness he was feeling before. It had just hit 11:30pm at night and he had finished the last of the tequila from the bottle. With no alcohol to distract his brain his eyes drift over the numerous photo frames he has hanging on the living room wall. His eyes stop at one photo in particular, it’s of him and Y/N from the day at the beach when they were 7. Despite it being the first time the two had met, they looked like they’d known each other since birth. Y/N had been very shy when she was introduced to the twins, but George quickly made her feel comfortable and the day was spent with lots of laughter and smiles. In the photo George and Y/N are stood side by side on the sand, grinning up at the camera. They had just made a huge sandcastle village and were very proud to show off their creation. George’s eyes wander down the photograph to their hands which are tightly intertwined. He bites his lip before stumbling out the front door.

~~~

“Do you ever think about getting married Georgie?” Y/N questions, she’s lying beside George outside on the grass, staring up at the clouds moving above them. They did this a lot, gazing at the sky trying to find the funniest shapes in the clouds.

George is only 12 but he knows exactly who he wants to marry, not that he will admit that.

“No, not really.” George tries not to freak out when he feels Y/N’s hand intertwine with his own, “do you?”

Y/N nods, “yep, I want to marry someone who is funny and will let me eat ice cream for dinner.” She giggles and it makes George’s heart soar, it the 5 years of knowing Y/N it had quickly become George’s favourite sound.

He turns his head to face Y/N, she’s still looking up at the sky, there’s a faint smile on her lips.

“I’m funny.” George isn’t sure what he’s insinuating.

Y/N turns to face him, “you are. Would you let me eat ice cream for dinner?” he nods eagerly.

Y/N purses her lips before smiling, “well then Georgie, maybe I’ll marry you.”

George can only hope that’s true.

~~~

George’s fist hammers against the wooden door. It knows it late and there’s a chance William will answer instead of Y/N but in this moment he doesn’t care. “C’mon Y/N open up! It’s me George.”

The door swings open and Y/N is standing on the other side in a fluffy dressing gown wrapped snuggly around her body rubbing her eyes. “George what the hell are you doing here?” There’s a trace of annoying on her voice, mostly because he’d woken her up but also because she’s been trying to talk to him all week and he decides to show up at her house at midnight the night before her wedding.

“I-um,” George stammers, his words getting stuck in this throat. He has spent practically his whole life wanting to tell Y/N he loves her but never being able to find the words, this time was no exception. So, in George’s alcohol fuelled mind he decides if he can’t use words then actions are the next best thing.

Y/N is staring blanking at the redhead on her porch, eager to know the reason why he’s standing in front of her after ignoring her all week. George timidly steps closer towards Y/N before resting his hands on her cheeks and pressing their lips together roughly.

Y/N is stood frozen on the spot until her hands reach up to rest on George’s chest. She can taste the strong alcohol on Georges mouth, and she’s pulled back to reality and pushing him away. “D-did you just k-kiss me?”

George nods.

Y/N is filled with anger and it starts to bubble up inside of her. “What the fuck George? You’ve been ignoring me all week not answering my calls or texts and-and then you just come here drunk and do that? You can’t come here the night before my wedding and kiss me. It’s not fair!”

George’s shoulders slump, “I’m sorry, I just had to say- that I…” he pauses again, his eyes scanning over Y/N’s face hoping somehow she’s learnt how to mind read.

“What? You had to say what George?” Y/N is aware that she’s yelling but she can’t bring herself to care.

“That I love you.”

Y/N doesn’t speak her brain is running a hundred miles a minute. The silence is unpleasant and unbearable, George looking into Y/N’s eyes trying to read her expression.

“You need to leave,” Y/N utters, her face unmoving.

It’s like George’s feet are glued to the ground, he’s brain is screaming at him to move but he can’t.

“You need to leave George.” Y/N’s voice is firmer this time, “I’m getting married tomorrow and you need to leave right now.”

~~~

George Weasley is an idiot. No, he’s more than an idiot, George Weasley is a dickhead, plain and simple.

He hadn’t been able to fall asleep when he got home, he kept replaying the night over and over. Every time he closed his eyes, he was met with Y/N staring back at him. Except she’s staring with so much disgust it makes George feel sick, he can still hear Y/N’s voice telling him to leave. George Weasley not only managed to lose the life of his life in one night but also his best friend. He feels like a dickhead.

George glances over at the clock next to his bed. 10:30 am. Y/N is getting married in 30 minutes. His chest pains, he thinks he might throw up.

George staggers out of bed and towards the kitchen, he needs water. His journey is interrupted by a harsh knock from the front door. He sighs, he knew Fred would come around to try and convince him to go to the wedding. George figures he couldn’t go to the wedding even if he wanted to, sure that his invitation was no longer valid after last night.

“Fred, seriously I’m not going,” George flings open the door and he almost passes out.

Y/N was standing there looking like an angel, he thinks maybe he died from alcohol poisoning and was actually in heaven. Y/N’s hair was laying loosely across her shoulders, she was wearing a breathtaking white gown which hugged her body perfectly.

George mouth is gaping open his voice coming out breathless and in a whisper, “what-what are you doing here?” He’s half expecting Y/N to slap him across the face for his antics last night.

“I couldn’t do it,” Y/N also whispers, as if this is a secret conversation, only meant for the two of them.

“Why?” George squeaks.

“Because I love you.”

Y/N steps closer and drapes her arms around George’s neck pulling him closer so their foreheads are resting against each other.

As soon as she woke up this morning Y/N felt ill. It wasn’t until she was standing in her wedding dress by the church did she realise why she felt sick. It was because the man that was waiting for her inside the church wasn’t George. Her mum sensed her daughters doubts and offered a comforting hand on her shoulder, “darling, you tell me right now if you want out. I’ll get a car, I’ll sort out this whole thing, you won’t have to worry about a thing.”

Without thinking Y/N had responded, “I want out mum.” That lead to Y/N zooming away in her dad’s car straight for George’s place.

Y/N gazes into George’s warm and gentle eyes, she felt home, “I love you even though you’re an idiot who waited to tell me you loved me till the night before my wedding to someone else.”

George chuckles, “yeah I guess I am but I’m your idiot.”