#???% talking to himself is unsettling AF | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

russenoire · 1 year

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here, i'm gonna spill some more ink over studio bones' decisions adapting ???% in mob psycho 100's confession arc... in a lighter color, perhaps.

some manga readers are upset at the lack of separation between '???%' and 'mob' in the anime vs the clear separation in the manga. that separation doesn't exist in the original japanese.

mob's 声優 (seiyuu) setsuo itō's voice acting in this scene from MP100's first season is by turns startling and visceral (tbh, most of the VA work in this scene is amazing, but i'm only referring to mob here).

youtube

given the above, i expected a voice come up from the depths of hell for ???% in the confession arc, but bones and itō-san did not indulge my whims here. what they gave us instead...

...actually reflects the source material.

while there is an audible distinction between ???%'s nonchalant contempt and mob's considerably-more-animated (thanks to all that emotional growth we've seen over the course of the story!) upset, they sound like the same person in the anime... because they are. i thought this a tidy way to convey that fact, and this subtle distinction is not that different in feel from what we see on the page in the original language.

inside the teenager's mind, shigeo (???%) and mob quarrel in the same font. tails on their speech bubbles eventually disappear as they continue to argue with each other. i found this pointed lack of separation a little confusing on first read, but eventually became used to it.

(for a breakdown of this full conversation in the manga, check out @exilepurify's awesome translation post.)

shigeo chafes at the thought of considering others' needs. he scorns mob for bending himself into a shape he thinks will suit tsubomi, mocks mob's desire to blend into the background and somehow escape notice. his own wish for tsubomi to accept him in all his explosive vainglory doesn't take her wishes into account, either.

and yet. his desires are subordinate to mob's.

he wants what mob wants -- only without that whole pesky 'consideration for other people' thing -- and he wants to keep mob alive. their full conversation reveals just how much shigeo actually loves mob.

for all practical purposes, any distinctions between shigeo and mob -- private vs public, subconscious vs conscious -- only exist in the boy's head. even then, they have been unfairly imposed... by mob himself.

the teenager laying waste to seasoning city? the teenager his friends and family love? one and the same.

his loved ones and allies address him with the names by which they know him; they assume he's the same person, just experiencing an involuntary loss of control and in need of some help. it's important to emphasize that. drastically different voices for shigeo and mob would have drawn a hard line between them where there is none.

studio bones removed and/or internalized ???%'s lines, apparently robbing him of speech. but ???% is talking to himself, and no one else can hear him.

in the manga, shigeo seizes control of the boy's speech centers and speaks out loud as ???%, in a scratchy, rough font meant to evoke a harsh voice. (it's the same font used for ???%'s last brief, conscious takeover when mob discovers the crispy fried corpses of his family in their merrily crackling home! you can hear itō-san's delightful interpretation of it in episode 9 from the second season.)

he says:

｢僕の好きにやらせてもらう。」 boku no s'ki ni yarasete morau. 'i'll be free to do whatever i want.' or more literally: 'i will take [from you] the allowance to do as i please.' his use of 貰う here emphasizes that he is forcing mob's hand.

this line and the shift in viewpoint serve to highlight the exact moment where shigeo gains the advantage in his argument with mob.

mob and shigeo squabble for external control for a while; ONE shows this by letting them both speak aloud in this same rough voice. both sides of the fight between the two (at least after 'i'll be free to do whatever i want') can actually be heard from the outside. we only get a few small panels of this as it's happening, but it's unnerving.

shigeo, who is winning this battle, not only gets far more lines as seen from without, but his harsh rasp even colors mob's external speech. this is mob's only line the mangaka lets us see in that font, and it's heartbreaking:

｢だって… もしこれが本当の僕の姿だっていうなら…」 datte... mosh' kore ga hontou no boku no sugata datte iu nara... 'because... if this [???%] is what i really am, as you say...

the line continues within:

｢本当の僕になんて誰も近寄らない。誰も…　誰も助けてくれない。そんなの嫌いだ。」 hontou no boku ni nante daremo ch'kayoranai. daremo... daremo tas'kete kurenai. sonna no kirai da. 'no one will come anywhere near the real me. no one... no one will be there for me. i won't have that.'

the full takeover, which happens a bit later, is marked by:

shigeo's dissolution of and absorption of mob's consciousness into himself;

reigen's ｢すまない｣ (sumanai, 'i'm sorry') for not knowing the nature of what his deshi was struggling to contain;

???%'s last glance back at the man before pressing on towards his goal... as reigen begs him to wait, running after him.

thereafter, we see ???% from without. we get two short glimpses of shigeo's internal perspective before dimple's reappearance, then rejoin him inside for his last explosion with mob.

the anime depicts the moment of full takeover thusly:

shigeo's dissolution of and absorption of mob's consciousness into himself;

a ｢すまない｣ from reigen, who senses something has gone even more wrong with the boy and renews his pursuit... begging him to wait;

shigeo's turning his back on reigen and walking on. we see him spurning his mentor from the inside, his face hardening against a stark black backdrop.

the outward shift happens on-screen too. while it eventually returns to an internal view just as the manga does, it largely stays there, owing to a serious expansion of the scene where shigeo indulges his thirst for revenge on reigen.

except for an audible sigh when teru remarks on how normal his friend's losing control of himself actually makes him, anime shigeo speaks to no one.

???% is alone when he speaks in the manga; reigen is nowhere within earshot and shigeo is only addressing mob. in other words, he's talking to himself. shigeo never utters a word to anyone else in either manga or anime, as if he owes no one an explanation for the choice to sack his hometown or injure his friends.

as bone-chilling and unsettling as ???% speaking out loud is on the page, as much as it enhances the reading experience... in my opinion, it adds nothing new to our understanding of this situation on the screen. viewers can see for themselves that:

an internal takeover has occurred in this boy's mind,

???% is sentient and human and ever so divinely enraged at having been chained up for so long;

???% is finally free.

so why should studio bones belabor this point by having him shout, in the middle of a tornado, to no one in particular? if a boy speaks in a tornado, and there is no one around to hear it, does he make a sound... ?

i also don't know that this would translate well to film. in real life, talking to oneself like that usually carries connotations of psychosis, and resolving it as is done here would honestly be an insult to real-life sufferers. i love it to pieces in the manga but understand why this was cut.

the only things removing ???%'s outward speech loses for me are:

one last opportunity for itō-san to flex that audible jump-scare STOMACH-TWISTING SNARL (oh, i will miss it so);

a slightly-less-vague sense of how shigeo might make his wishes known to tsubomi, were he to present himself to her like this... he wants her approval so badly, and is terrified of not getting it. would he be able to speak to her at all? in the manga the question becomes what would he even say to her?

#mob psycho 100 #mp100 #mp100 meta #mp100 anime #mp100 manga #mp100 manga spoilers #sometimes adaptations give you new perspective on the source material #and pose new interesting questions #1-cour anime adaptations are summaries and should be appraised as such #what would ???% say to tsubomi if he met her in this state?#would he be able to speak to her at all?#???% talking to himself is unsettling AF #???% is fun to think about #this is a long post #thanks for reading #let me be clear #i am not uncritical of the anime confession arc #翻訳 #manga translation #if a boy speaks in a tornado #and there's no one around to hear it #does he make a sound... ?#i like that ???% isn't entirely silent in the anime #just nonverbal #which also raises a whole host of fascinating implications #to be tackled in another post #kageyama shigeo #分析

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fuyuu-suru-uzuki · 1 year

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out of the 90 or so panels that ONE devotes to the mental fight between shigeo and mob in mob psycho 100's confession arc -- from mob's conscious awareness of shigeo's presence to shigeo's eventual dissolution and assimilation of mob -- just seven show us that the child can actually be heard arguing with himself from the outside.

since the anime concluded its run last year, i've had those panels on my mind. studio bones only animated the largest one and relegated shigeo's speech on it to internal dialogue (much more on that decision here). they're so compelling that i decided to redraw them in my own style.

this is the seventh and last of them. it occurs just before shigeo smacks reigen in the head with a chunk of fallen city in hopes of scaring him off (it doesn't work).

its text reads:

｢他人が”僕”を飼い慣らすことはできない。モブの本当の姿を知ればあの人は僕を開放するよ。」 tanin ga boku wo kainarasu koto wa dekinai. mobu no hontou no sugata wo shireba ano hito wa boku wo kaihou suru yo. 'no one else will be able to tame me. now that he knows mob's true form, that man will set me free.'

ONE's original panel below the cut.

この一連の他の絵 kono ichiren no hoka no e other drawings in this series panel 2｜panel 3｜panel 5｜panel 6

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chiffiorra · 6 months

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₊❏❜ ⋮ Don't Speak

Kinktober Day #19

Prompt: Choking Character: Sir Crocodile This Work Contains: fem!reader, warlord!reader, choking, manhandling, start of unprotected sex, start of hatefucking too ig, nearly the same as last year's choking prompt but who gives af lmao WC: 464 Note: the latest i ever posted, i've been feeling so sick all day ;^; Taglist: @enchantedforest-network, @nanamis-wifey-reye

Whenever he was around you, you would feel a tinge of irritation inside you. It especially didn’t help when you noticed that the hatred was mutual. But unlike him, you tried your best to be civil despite his behavior towards you.

But there was only so much of his attitude you could take before you would snap.

Today was the day where the warlords were banding together for a meeting and you were the first to show up. Unfortunately, much to your dismay, Crocodile was the first one to show up after you. You sighed, already dreading the worst that was to come. Those thoughts would resonate even more once you saw a smile slowly starting to etch on his face.

Before you could even blink, you were under him, a large hand taking hold of your neck. It was all a blur, first you had snapped at him for always being so cold to you and only you (he never dared to do this to the other warlords) and then the next thing you knew, he began to put his hands on you. Of course, you didn’t hesitate to fight back.

Now here you were, laying down on top of the desk with him leering down at you. That grin that always unsettled you came back as he sneered at you. “Well now, look at this. What would the others say if they saw you like this? And to think that you once said that you were the type to bow down to no one, what happened to all that talk, hm?” He said, his hand slowly tightening around your neck.

As if he didn’t have enough power over you, he noticed your legs squeezing together. “Ah, so you liked that? It’s always the prissy girls like you, after all,” he teased, his hook making its way between your legs and rubbing at your covered clit slowly, causing you to pant out and grip at his arm.

Before you could say another word, you felt his hand let go of your neck and pull down your pants, shivering as you were now exposed to the cool air in the room. A deep chuckle was heard as he unbuckled himself, already hard and rubbing his length along your slit.

“Now, why don’t you be good for me and stay still? We should get this done and over with before the meeting begins, right?” You gasped as he pushed into you almost without warning. You felt his hand come back at your neck and wrap its way around your neck, beginning to restrict your breathing but in the best way. You felt your skin buzzing at his touch.

You never expected him to discover something new for you, but were you really one to complain?

#candy uploads 🍭#kinktober #kinktober 2023 #one piece #one piece x reader #sir crocodile #sir crocodile x reader #crocodile x reader #lemon pastries 🥐

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blues824 · 2 years

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Hope you're doing well and taking care of yourself! For my request a Douma like mc? Where Douma mc was fighting a demon and got their eye stabbed out by the demon making em chuckle then defeating the demon with one strike across the chest with their fan? Also since the regular Douma liked eating women but since it's reversed Douma mc eats men instead,

With the side characters if you don't mind :)

Thank you, Anon! I am taking care of myself, how about you? :)

Diavolo

When you first arrived at RAD, you seemed so friendly! Not even Barbatos or Lucifer suspected something was off about you. You just seemed so fun and happy despite being a demon. It wasn’t entirely weird since the young lord himself always chose to be cheerful.

You immediately became friends with the exchange students as well as the brothers and the lord and his butler. You would help him with any paperwork that he needed to fill out, and you volunteered to help anyone else in need.

Cut the camera to Scene 1, in a random alley. A low-ranking demon decided that he wanted to fight you for no reason other than he thought you were human and therefore weaker than him. You, being the secret psychopath that you are, decided to let this play out.

What you didn’t expect was for your eye to be stabbed out of its socket. You were about to ruin this demon’s whole career. You weren’t angry, but more so inconvenienced. You whipped out your fans and struck across the demon’s chest, killing him instantly.

When Diavolo found out what happened, he was super shocked. You didn’t seem happy or remorseful. You had a blank look in your eyes. You explained to him that emotions were a foreign concept to you and your happy and cheerful self was just a facade.

Cut the camera to Scene 2, where you had a conversation with Solomon. He knew about the cult following you had on Earth, and he was impressed to say the least. You then explained that it was mostly made of young men who you’d eat. It didn’t surprise him since many demons eat humans, but he was a tad more wary around you.

When Solomon relayed this information to Diavolo, he kept a closer eye on you. He believes that you have reached an area of a certain amount of self control when it comes to your appetite towards young men, but you could never be too careful. After all, it would be a shame if you ate Solomon.

Barbatos

He genuinely wanted to be convinced by your cheerful personality, but it didn’t take. He knew there was more to you than you let on, he just needed to find out what it was exactly. You weren’t exactly an open book he could read, and he found that unsettling.

He did enjoy how you would help him with some of the chores he has to do, as well as helping Lord Diavolo with any paperwork he has to do. You would gladly bake treats with him and Luke whenever the young angel came over.

If you look at Exhibit A, we can see that a demon decided that he wanted to mess with you at RAD. A foolish choice if there ever was one. You decided to humor him and fight him, giving him the first punch… and by punch, I meant the demon stabbed your eye out.

As the crowd and the demon started laughing at your ‘defeat’, you whipped out your golden fans and quickly struck him one the chest once. As the demon lay there dying, you simply just walked away. You wouldn’t give him any more valuable time.

When Barbatos hears about the fight, he relays the information to Diavolo so that the lord will be informed. He will then talk to you about it. When you tell him that you didn’t feel anything during or after killing the demon, everything starts falling into place.

If you look at Exhibit B, you express your hunger to Barbatos. He tried to make treats for you, but you told him that your kind of demon typically eats humans to regain stamina or to quench your hunger. You told him that back in the human world you had a cult of worshippers, and they were mostly men. Hence, you would eat them to ‘save’ them.

He also believes that you have control over yourself after you told him that it was more of a special treat for you if it was easy to obtain a human. He visibly sighed in relief that you wouldn’t be eating our dear friend Solomon anytime soon.

Simeon

He’s a writer, as well as an angel. He can tell that there is something dark under that bright persona you put on. His angel senses are also tingling. He doesn’t quite know what it is about you, but he gets that feeling that you are evil.

He is always a bit cautious whenever you volunteer to help out with anything. He finds it kind of you to volunteer your time, don’t get him wrong… but he doesn’t completely trust you just yet. Especially not around such an impressionable angel like Luke.

One fateful and unfortunate day, you were walking in the street on the way to a shop that sold baked goods. While walking past an alley, you were quickly pulled into it. When you gathered your thoughts, you noticed that there was a smiling demon circling you. This is very unusual, you thought.

After the demon stabbed your eye out, you quickly whipped out one of your sharp golden fans and struck him on the chest. You were pretty annoyed, but with your fast regeneration powers it would be fine soon. As for the demon laying on the ground, it wouldn’t be fine soon.

After Simeon found out about it, he stared at you in shock. He couldn’t wrap his head around how you were capable of killing a demon. Let alone the fact that you seem unaffected by the whole ordeal. He kept this all from Luke, obviously.

When you tell him that you had a cult dedicated to worshiping you, he was concerned for all those people and their pagan ideology. You then followed that statement by telling him you would eat the worshippers to ‘save’ them… but it was really to satisfy your hunger.

This is worse than any horror novel he has ever read. He wrote to Michael and asked for guidance because he didn’t know what he should do in this situation. He’s grateful that you can control yourself around Solomon.

Solomon

He saw right through you. He knew that you weren’t who you said you were. Ain’t nobody that happy on a Monday. He is constantly trying to get you to trip up so that he can reveal to you that he knows what you are.

He’s constantly hanging around you to see if you give in to temptation. After all, he is a young man… a human that fits your requirements. He will gladly let you help while also starting conversations about everything that comes to mind.

One day, one of the demons in your class decided that they were going to fight you cuz why not? You’re probably super weak. Solomon was also in the class, so he was able to see the demon stab your eye out with a pencil (John Wick, who?).

You rolled your eye and whipped out one of your golden fans. Summoning all the strength in your body to really make it hurt, you struck the demon across the chest. He died upon impact. You held a blank stare in your eyes and sat back down.

Solomon was shocked for the first time in a long time. How were you capable of doing such a thing without so much as batting an eye? He would most definitely ask you about it and you revealed to him that you were clinically apathetic as well as psychotic… and a demon.

When he asked even more questions about your kind of demon, and you told him your story. You revealed that back in the human world, there was a cult dedicated to you. Because it was mostly made up of young, gullible men, you would eat them and disguise it as ‘saving’ them from such a treacherous world.

He would definitely study your mannerisms more, and he finds out that you can easily control yourself around him. You actually enjoyed his company, so you wouldn’t eat him. Rather, you’d keep him around so you can prove that you can show restraint towards your appetite.

#obey me shall we date #obey me x reader #obey me!#obey me #lord diavolo x reader #lord diavolo #barbatos x reader #barbatos #obey me simeon x reader #obey me simeon #simeon x reader #simeon #om! barbatos #obey me barbatos #obey me solomon #obey me solomon x reader #solomon obey me #solomon x reader #solomon

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m34gs · 4 months

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Saw AU ask time: It has to have happened at least once, right? Someone Yuu sort of knows was a Real Jerk was thrown into a trap dies in said trap. Even though this person 100% deserved it, Yuu is upset once they learn of death via news. Without giving anything away how does each dorm comfort Yuu WITHOUT giving themselves away?

Oooooooh yes yes yes! I am so excited for this ask. Thank you so much for sending this to me! This is what I *live* for. Angst but also the irony! Potential for comedy! With murder as the backdrop :D Perfect! Ok, let's get into it!

I don't really have any warnings for this one; it's just under a cut for length! :)

Heartslaybul:

Trey takes the lead on this one, being the only one who doesn't have a hand in the murders at this point. He still feels a little guilty, because he didn't do anything to stop the others, but he can at least pull it together to organize Operation Comfort Yuu. He starts with what he knows best: baked goods. Yuu gets invited over to Trey's bakery, under the guise of taste-testing new pastries. Ace, Deuce, Cater, and even Riddle helped to make them.

While Yuu is there, the Heartslaybul team distracts them with warm pastries and delicious tea. Even if the event does come up in conversation, Trey guides them all through by just sliding Yuu a new pastry, and sitting and listening to their feelings. Cater has a tissue at the ready. Sometimes what a person needs really is just a warm treat and a group of friends who listen to their feelings without judgement. Cater and Trey have the "tell us all about it" demeanor down-pat (let's be real, both are pretty good at concealing their emotions and inner thoughts). Ace and Deuce struggle with pretending that they don't know the person who was put in the trap, so Trey has them on cleaning duty and doing whatever little tasks he can think of on the fly if they start to fumble too much. Riddle struggles a little too, so he stays pretty quiet but Yuu can chalk that up to his social awkwardness and lack of childhood. He does offer a supportive arm-pat, and Yuu truly appreciates it.

Savanaclaw:

Jack is worried but not good at lying on the fly, nor is he really good at offering comfort to a sad Yuu. On top of that, he is part of the Direct Cause of their sadness. He awkwardly pats their shoulder (insert "sorrows, sorrows, prayers" meme) and sends Ruggie and Leona the biggest "Help Me" eyes ever.

Leona takes a bit of an...unorthodox approach. "Well, no one likes dying, and most people don't like it when people die, but it's part of life, Herbivore," he says. It's not the most comforting line, but it's true enough that it at least stops Yuu's tears.

It's Ruggie who has to save the day. Growing up with so many kids back home, he knows a thing or two about comforting people; especially when it's to do with complex emotions the person might not fully understand. He's also good at feeling out emotions, reading the room, and lying to cover for himself. His skills are all gonna come in handy here. He ushers Yuu to a more private space and lets them just tell him all their thoughts and talk out their own emotions. When they're done, Ruggie ruffles their hair and tells them they did a good job and that it's not easy to feel that way. Maybe he even gives a side-arm hug. It feels good just for Yuu to get things off their chest. Ruggie slowly steers the conversation away from the heavy topic and eventually he has Yuu smiling and giggling a little. He also treats them to ice cream with his own money, a rare occurrence for anyone to experience.

Leona goes to Farena with the guise of "these murders are highly disturbing and unsettling to the public. Make a statement that we will have our people looking into it". Of course, Farena, proud af that Leona is taking such an interest in their citizens and their wellbeing, does exactly that and suggests Leona oversee the task force since it was his idea. He has no idea he just handed Leona the reigns to be able to control exactly who knows what about the murders; at least for the ones that occur in their territory... (listen, I totally think Leona could pull off a Deathnote situation successfully, lol)

Octavinelle:

Jade immediately takes stock of the situation. He's studied his fellow students and any humans he can come across. He knows all the words and phrases to say to offer comfort. He knows all the "right" actions for the scenario, or so he thinks. He scoops Yuu into a hug whispering soft reassurances. When Floyd figures out what Yuu's upset about, the first words out of his mouth are "well maybe the person deserved it", which unfortunately only makes Yuu more upset. Azul, having a better understanding of how to act, smacks Floyd immediately, making him yelp. It surprises Yuu and the action is so in-character for both of them that Yuu can't help but laugh a little. The laugh surprises all of them and there's a moment of pause...and then Jade smacks Floyd also. Yuu laughs harder. Of course, this devolves into a small scuffle as Floyd tries to fight back and the other two try to keep smacking him (not too hard) because it makes Yuu laugh.

By the end of the fiasco, Yuu hasn't forgotten what upset them but their heart feels lighter. Floyd then suggests they go get some ice cream, and he and Jade drag Yuu away. Meanwhile, Azul discreetly reaches out through his advertising connections and gets articles and any possible reminders of the incident buried even more in the news so that Yuu will be less likely to see them.

Scarabia:

Kalim has Yuu in his arms barely half a second after they've explained why they're upset. He gives hugs and reassurances and rubs their back. He has them sit down and asks Jamil to make Yuu's favourite foods. Kalim is highly conflicted and not good at lying at all, but he can definitely provide a good listening ear. And he's been practicing. Jamil definitely thought something like this could happen, so he's been having Kalim work on providing condolences without giving things away.

Still, Kalim is very vulnerable to sadness and his friends being upset. He could very well start to crack if Yuu expresses enough sadness. For that situation, Jamil has also thought ahead. They have a phrase: "Jamil, bring more tissues" or something like that, and that lets Jamil know Kalim needs help navigating the conversation, AND gives him a reason to come into the room. For his part, Kalim has had to work a little on some sleight of hand to hide the tissue box so that no one questions him asking for more. (he took lessons from Ace)

A comforting meal, with warm drinks, and a sleepover party, and Yuu is suddenly feeling a lot less sad and is able to relax a little.

Pomefiore:

Vil knows how hard it can be to talk when you're upset, so he helps Yuu talk it out by occupying them with an activity, a low-energy activity. I like to think he'd choose painting nails. It can become so much easier to spill their thoughts when Yuu is getting their nails painted, when they're watching him manipulate the brush instead of trying to look him in the eye. It also provides a distraction; human eyes are naturally drawn to movement and so Yuu is watching the nail painting instead of watching Vil's face and reactions. It takes the pressure of lying on the spot off of him, and also lets Vil "talk" to Rook with his eyes and mouthing words silently if he needs Rook to step in or to go get anything.

Epel has to be "busy" at this time, since we've established in this AU that he's not great at lying and has a hard time with coming up with lies. He's the kind of person who hates subterfuge and subtlety. Once Yuu is calmer, he can suddenly have finished all his "tasks" and be available to hang out and help distract. Vil will definitely take a moment to himself, leaving Yuu with Rook and Epel, while he calls his connections in advertising and publicity and "persuades" (nicely or with veiled threats, he's capable of either) major news companies to run happier stories for the next several weeks.

Ignihyde:

As expected, Idia and Ortho are both a bit awkward when it comes to the comforting. Ortho does come at it from a more clinical, objective view of "well, he was a bad person, and it's better him than some innocent person". It doesn't upset Yuu as much because they know Ortho's still not exactly human and that he's trying, but they do explain that hearing that doesn't make them feel better.

Idia is actually the one who ends up taking over the comforting. He has his experiences with grief, loss, death, and all the horrible feelings that can go with that, so he does get it to an extent. Instead of talking, though, he just lets Yuu sit with him in silence. They lean against each other as Idia plays a videogame, one that he knows well so he doesn't have to focus and can listen to Yuu if they start talking. Ortho takes it as a learning experience and just watches.

Afterward, when Yuu has finally fallen asleep, they cover Yuu with a blanket. That is when Idia and Ortho hack into all Yuu's social media and anywhere they could possibly see online ads and news. Idia is definitely not above hitting all the buttons and searching all the things he knows will affect how the algorithm shows things on Yuu's feed, to make sure they see only happy things for the next little while. He may even launch a short-term internet attack on some of the more prominent news sites...

Diasomnia:

Ok, let's be honest. None of the Diasomnia boys are ready for this. A sad Yuu? It's panic time. Lilia thinks he should cook them something. Silver insists he should NOT. Sebek cannot lie to save his life. He's all stiffness and stammers. Malleus may or may not be on the verge of destroying the planet.

Eventually, they get it together. It's when Yuu says "Hornton, can I have a hug" that they single-handedly save the entire universe from Malleus's wrath. Malleus gives them a hug and just holds them. And holds them. And holds them. When is he supposed to let go? Is he supposed to let go? He doesn't know, and honestly he doesn't want to ask.

Finally dissuaded from trying to provide comfort through home-cooked food, Lilia suggests they order in some food and have a sleepover. Silver suggests Lilia tell Yuu some of his stories of his past, since he's experienced so much he may be able to have a story Yuu can relate to. He does, telling several stories, and Yuu feels better as they listen to how someone else has felt similar to how they feel. It's a weird comfort, but it helps. Sebek helps by making tea and helping Silver order the food (Malleus can't figure out the tech, and Lilia *will* add really weird requests in the comment section if he's left to do it). A cozy night in with movies and food and Malleus still holding them, and Yuu feels a lot better the next day. Malleus is of the proposal that their next trap involves getting rid of the victim's face if they fail...Lilia is not opposed.

There you go! Hope you enjoyed these answers, these are my thoughts!! I had so much fun coming up with this response and writing it all out. Please let me know what you think too!

#twisted wonderland #saw au #sort of saw franchise au #headcanons #NRC dorms #this was so much fun to come up with

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msookyspooky · 1 year

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Heyo so I say your severen birthday post and it got me thinking. So I went to Disney world for my birthday and I was thinking what if severen takes his mate and the gang to Disney 😭(at night of course) I can see Jess and sev eating a turkey leg and Caleb and Mae taking a romantic walk and diamond dragging homer to get photos 😭

I srsly love this I definitely don't watch Near Dark and think Disneyworld but it's so perfect bc they've lived so long you can't tell me they haven't been to an amusement park including disneyworld with how huge it is.

I bet ur b day was fun!!! I went to that place ONE time at 8 years old and it quite literally rained on my parade and some of the rides 🥲 It was thundering and cloudy during the wait for the haunted mansion which was my favorite so that was a neat memory tho. So if I'm rusty, srry I have vague memories there 😭

Severen Taking his S/O to Disneyworld

- For one, they definitely did not have money to go in, not even 80's money. They probably couldn't steal enough or didn't care to so they snuck in somehow (Severen is old af and probably knows a secret entrance from when it was first built.)

- Severen found a micky mouse hat with ears and wore it just to be goofy

- Speaking of goofy...Severen and Jesse scare the actors in costume there. Severen definitely took a picture with you but whispered some terrifying shit in Goofy's ear just to watch him try to run in those shoes (He laughed his ass off too.)

- You are so right!! Severen and Jesse are eating the most basic, filling foods. He may sample your dole whip or funnel cake but he rarely eats this type of human food and he's making it worth it by eating a huge turkey leg.

- You all definitely cut in line...Do you think SEVEREN is going to stand for an hour or more for rides??? He is finding a way in probably from killing and drinking a staff member and getting their key cards to use backdoors.

- Jesse and DB venture off to Epcot just to leisurely stroll around sample different foods and listen to music and dance together...They still get odd looks and creep everyone out. A child definitely cried when Jesse stared them down for staring at him first.

- Caleb and Mae are hand in hand in line to go on the haunted mansion (It's just so they can makeout in the cars after Mae gets 'scared'. They rarely get alone time in the group.)

- Homer goes off adventuring by himself (He just doesn't want anyone see him actually enjoy peter pans flight like a kid.)

- You and Sev go on an adventure. He is high energy, playful, adventurous and eager to do things so expect for him to ask you where to go but if you say 'it's up to you'...He is dragging you everywhere 🤣

- Severen's favorite rides are actual Rollercoasters that have his adrenaline pumping (Imagine if he's never been on one? He'd love it!) the crazier the better and that nut job is laughing his ass off while your screaming...This man would love Tower of Terror or Rock n Rollercoaster or even more 'tame' rides like ExtraTERRORestrial Alien Encounter if he got to see it before it closed

- He does enjoy more lowkey rides though like a ferris wheel or haunted mansion if it involves you cuddle up to him but please do not take him on its a small world he will complain the entire time and if he's got that damn song stuck in his head; he's blaming you ☠️

- Homer loves it bc even tho he wants to be perceived as an adult; this is the one place he goes and being a kid actually gets him better treatment than everyone else in the group.

- Mae loves talking to the princesses and Caleb loves the rides he rode as a kid before Sarah was even born like Space Mountain or Pirates of the Caribbean

- DB loves the family time you all rarely get often going your seperate ways to feed everynight

- You all meet back up at least an hour before it closes to spend that 'family time' together.

- Severen or Jesse or both know the most unsettling deaths and secrets about the place and Severen points out "Oh some girl was crushed between those two walls" too casually. Severen acted like he was going to jump in the water on Jungle Cruise claiming there's actual alligators and when you told him "Nuh uh" he was going to prove it. You just about yanked him off his feet to sit back down

- Everyone argues over what the last 'family' attraction should be

- If it involves shooting and competition tho? Every single one of them from Jesse to Caleb is having a blast

- You probably convince them to go on splash mountain just for the picture at the end. Sadly someone had to sit out (Jesse or DB for sure) So in order: Jesse or DB in the back, Homer, You, Guess Who, Mae, Caleb 😭

- You are so right DB is dragging Homer to take photos like the Mom she is 🥰

- You all stay to watch some fireworks but sneak back out halfway through before everyone else starts leaving

- The night is young and you all go get ACTUAL nourishment with blood but it's a fun time and you all have souvenirs from pics to merchandise

- Severen definitely won, stole or even bought you a cute niche character merch you love to keep for ur special day 💞

#i swear I see everyone's ask and even if they're months old I'll do them one day as inspo it jus takes awhile 😴🥴#near dark #severen van sickle #severen #severen near dark #near dark severen #severen x reader

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veliseraptor · 2 years

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how would xy feel about being a fierce corpse himself? would he be like "cool im dead and strong af!" or would he be really unsettled about someone else potentially having control over him? if he reached a point where his only two options were to die or be turned into a fierce corpse, what would he choose?

it's very funny to me that I was actually just recently discussing this with @silvysartfulness! and I think it's...complicated. because yeah, on the one hand Xue Yang is fantastically, almost inhumanly tenacious when it comes to surviving (or, you know, "surviving", in this case.)

well, I guess the first thing is to caveat if we're talking an ordinary fierce corpse or a sentient one, because as far as the first one goes I'd say that's a pretty hard nope, because that feels too far from being him and over the line into just...being somebody else's straight-up puppet, which is not an appealing prospect.

if we're talking a sentient fierce corpse with at least some level of free will - more like Wen Ning or Song Lan sans nails in heads...then it's more of a toss-up, and I think a lot of it depends on who would be holding the other end of the figurative potential leash, and why he's being brought back.

so since aside from Xue Yang himself we have one other demonic cultivator in canon on the record of managing to make a sentient fierce corpse out of a dead person, i.e. Wei Wuxian. so for the sake of discussion let's go with him being the person, hypothetically. and in that case...

well, on the one hand, Xue Yang's Yiling Laozu fanboy heart. amazing! fucking incredible! he now has an extremely intimate (from his perspective. and it is sort of true) connection with his demonic cultivation hero. big thumbs up from that perspective. on the other hand...at least in canon Wei Wuxian doesn't like Xue Yang very much, which puts a bit of a damper on the delight he can take there, particularly when, yeah, he would be acutely aware that Wei Wuxian could probably compel him to do what he wants. and that just makes Xue Yang itchy all over in a very, very bad way.

because if Xue Yang prizes survival, he also very much prizes his freedom and independence; having that stripped away would be something he would chafe against hard, particularly if he was on a short leash. if it was a situation where he had relative freedom of movement, where he wouldn't be quite so aware of the mastery someone else has over him and he could just live his undead life doing whatever, then it would be...more okay. potentially he could put it out of his mind, at least most of the time, and focus on the good aspects of his new condition.

(I had in a fic somewhere Xue Yang semi-idly contemplating whether he could make himself a fierce corpse. if that was possible then that would be absolutely a viable alternative. he's certainly not averse to the idea of being undead; that's not going to bother him a whole lot.)

so if it comes down to his making a choice...it really depends on a lot of factors. what's going on, how much time he has to think about it, who is potentially doing the fierce corpsening and his relationship to that person, what the rest of his life looks like at the time. like, for instance, if you asked Xue Yang in canon when he is actually dying? I think he'd turn that one down. but at another time, before he's completely hollowed out by despair? then...maybe.

but even if he did go for it I don't think the part about being potentially under someone else's control would ever go down easy, and there would at least be some amount of contemplation re: finding ways to keep that from happening and possibly, more drastically, (again) depending on who it is, if he can get away with straight up killing them, because that'd solve that problem.

#conversating #anonymous #xue yang #aggressively headcanons #the sad queer cultivators show

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stupid-sloot-headcanons · 2 years

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No, but let's talk about the 2016 Powerpuff Girls reboot and how creepy it was. One of the guys working on it made a self-insert and shipped himself with Blossom, had an episode with the girls twerking and let's not even mention the atrocity that was the "Musclecup" episode with the downright fetishistic designs. That one was just... unsettling af.

Oh, so when *I* make a blatant self-insert to be the love interest of my childhood crush character in a fanfic, it's cringe, but if I get an animation degree and have Cartoon Network's budget it's just "a reboot"

Seriously if you're gonna project your degenerate fantasies like that on a children's program, just don't literally insert yourself. The staff on Totally Spies were into all sorts of weird bullshit but they never shoved a stand-in for themselves perving on the underage characters ffs. You can make allusions and lewd jokes but they need to be smth adults get while kids don't get it (SpongeBob and shows like EE&E and Animaniacs did that all the time)

Also don't have the children twerk. You're really gonna send that to the animation sweatshop in South Korea for them to clean up/finalize? Don't do that

#sloot bitches about things #like i had a thing for don carnage from tailspin but if i got assigned to reboot it #i wouldnt fucking put in a new human character for carnage to fawn over

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existentialcrisis-servedhot · 2 years

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thoughts and feelings on harry's house

music for a sushi restaurant: i think this is the opener because he wanted to give us an out. like this is what my album's gonna be, all instrumental and experimental and this is your last warning, get in or out. i think that's really clever and bold and it sort of feels like he's growing into himself

late night talking: i listened to it on coachella first lol so i don't have any fresh thoughts. this is classic harry though, making us believe this is a happy album for at least the next few minutes

grapejuice: no thoughts just vibes

as it was: it was such a great thing to release this as a single 'cause it lets you know where he is headaspace wise. it's such a heart wrenching experience to listen to this song, knowing you're not alone in wanting things to be as they were, a wish never to be fulfilled

daylight: and it all goes downhill from here. things start getting melancholic from here. but the imagery goddd the imagery in this song is worth dying for. as an aspiring writer, i'm really fucking jealous

little freak: no but i literally thought this was gonna be about sex. seriously. and then it turns out to be a song that makes me feel dead inside. but let's talk about deadness on the next one, shall we? (sidenote: this bridge omggggg)

matilda: need i say anything more than what the internet has actually said? i cried. in fact this is the first time I've used the "hide" option on spotify. 'cause yk ik i need to be in a certain headspace (read: need to be in the mood to get fucked up) to listen to this one. i need to know i'm alone and can dry heave and sob before playing it. in fact i've only listened to it three times yet and i plan to keep it that way for a while

cinema: imagine being so cool harry fucking styles writes a song about it. imagine harry fucking styles wondering if he's good enough for you.

daydreaming: OMG THE INSTRUMENTALS IN THIS ONE *chef's kiss* harry's outdone even himself in terms of instruments in this album and I've got literally zero complaints

keep driving: right when i first listened to it i thought to myself, that video he was filming in that yellow outfit, it's for this one. it was just an instinctive response to the melody and even though that feeling isn't there anymore after multiple listens, if an mv does get released for this song, let it be known i prophecized it. the song in itself is just soooo ugh inexplicably lovely. it's really the kind of love letter I'd like to receive lol

satellite: ummmmm. satellite is matilda's little sibling in terms of me crying. seriously there's just something so disturbingly poignant about the lyrics. the desperation, the longing, you can feel it

boyfriends: again listened on coachella first so no fresh thoughts. but i have a feeling that he's talking about himself in this one. like idk just a feeling. like somehow a sense of self deprecation festering in it? and he's talked about how he wrote after seeing the way some dudes mistreat their partners, like his sisters and his friends, in the zane lowe interview, but it's also an acknowledgement of his own behavior so yk i'm not completely wrong haha

love of my life: just like sushi is the perfect album opener, this is the perfect last song. this is the most beautifully unsettling song on this album. like obviously matilda and satellite are sad af but on the surface this one doesn't seem sad ykwim? it's beauty is in its implicit despondence. it's beauty is in the longing for what you know YOU threw away. things aren't as they were because of YOU. and man is that concept sad. the perfect ending to a beautiful piece of art that i'm going to be playing on repeat for at least the next whole month.

#i had many other thoughts too ngl #but this is long enough lol #harry styles #harry update #harrys house #late night talking #harry styles album #harry's house #matilda #as it was #hs3 #harry 1d #harry edward styles #harries #harry icons #solo harry #harry

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thisangstriddenschoollifetragedy · 2 years

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Rambling About Relationships

Momo’s relationships with the phantom thieves :

Akiren: tolerates him, likes to train in the Metaverse

Morgana: Can’t stand the smug way he conducts himself and how cocky he is, she wants to body the motherfucker but that would go against the contract her and Yaguru signed with Philemon

Ryuji: doesn’t mind him

Ann: They go shopping for goth outfits and Halloween clothes when October comes around, they get along really well and talk a lot about Visual Kei fashion

Yusuke: She introduces him to more gorey and more dark artwork which at first unsettles Yusuke but overtime he learns to appreciate the darker parts of the art world.

Makoto: She can’t stand her strict behavior, they don’t get along, plus she tried to shut down the Occult Club ( which Momo is the leader of) one time.

Futaba: They like reading creepypastas and urban legends to each other.

Haru: Their best friends! They both take immense pleasure in combat due to their sadism and Haru even helps Momo collect assistants V̶i̶c̶t̶i̶m̶s̶ for her occult club studies

Akechi: Despises him, because he’s annoying AF and sneaky.

Yaguru: Best friends, she protects him when Futaba is bullying him.

Yaguru’s relationships with the Phantom Thieves:

Akiren: Likes him and aspires to be like him one day.

Morgana: Thinks he’s cute and pets and cuddles with him daily.

Ryuji: They get along really well, they like to have video game nights together.

Ann: He’s kinda neutral on her, although Ann and Yaguru both enjoy Doll maker games

Yusuke: Best buds! they like talking about digital art and how 3D art is inferior to 2D art. ( their such art elitists it’s not even funny)

Makoto: Likes her, they play lots of chess and board games together.

Futaba: dislikes her, despite being a fellow navigator she’s such a troll to him for liking old technology like the Nintendo Power Glove The Gamecube and his most egregious crime to her, liking Katamari Damacy

Haru: They get along well due to their relative timid and shy personality, although their both not afraid to cut a bitch if it means their friends are safe.

Akechi: NGL he’s very unsettle by him for some reason he can sense that something is not right about him and he usually stays away from him when he’s around.

Momo: Best cousin ever!!! Momo is very protective of her cousin and will protect him from danger and bullies ( looking at you Kamoshida and Futaba)

Intresting

#ask

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fuyuu-suru-uzuki · 1 year

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since the end of the anime, the seven manga panels in mob psycho 100's confession arc where shigeo and mob's argument can be heard from the outside have taken up residence in my head; they're charging me rent. this is panel five.

directly after shigeo speaks the line above, mob brushes shigeo's hands away from his face in disgust at the sentiment. thus rejected -- again -- by his own self, shigeo then resolves to dispense with mob and suppress him entirely. i chose to emphasize shigeo's understandable ire in this panel. it's obvious from context alone in the manga, but not so much in isolation like this.

the text reads:

｢こうやって暴れる僕だって本当の僕だ。まだ認めたくないの？」 kou yatte abareru boku datte hontou no boku da. mada mitometakunai no? 'even the me who raises hell like this is the real me. you still don't want to acknowledge that?'

a monochrome version:

and ONE's original panel:

この一連の他の絵 kono ichiren no hoka no e other drawings in this series panel 2｜panel 3｜panel 6｜panel 7

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fanficandtheories · 2 years

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Let’s talk about Damen’s grief (Part one)

(Part two, Part three)

It’s never talked about as much as Laurent’s grief or trauma. Damen is always the powerful, determined, makes-ends-meet type of guy. A much lesser attributed factor to his character is his grief. No one talks about how much he changes through the trilogy and his grief is the only tether to his old life. Let me explain. (Probably in more than one post, I’ll see)

That right place to start would be in Ios, after the trial.

This whole section is particularly difficult. Through out the trilogy, Damen is called a dumb brute/a naive fool/an arrogant prince who didn’t see the treachery seeping through his family, this is either directly said (Laurent) or politely implied (Nikandros). But in reality, Damen never had a reason to see a possibility for treachery. He never saw himself as holding a bigger power that could be stolen, by being the heir. At least not in Kastor. He always strived to please his brother and father, who were the bigger powers in his life, who he thought were better than him. He looked up to them as people who were trying to teach him to be a better king. Kastor and Theomedes were one and the same in his mind’s eye. He took the throne as a responsibility, a job that had to be done right, rather than a ✨privilege✨.

It’s so sad when he tries not to feel small waiting in the slave baths, like Kastor could even hold a candle to his forest fire. It’s down right depressing when he mentions the similarity Kastor has with Theomedes, that semblance of family, the blind desperation for family. He can’t even get himself to digest the facts of his life in hopes of keeping his brother. He just fought through nations to come back home. He finally faces Kastor and he can’t even get himself to do anything, because he can only see his father, who is ✨dead and buried✨.

Like I said, his grief is what tethers him to his old life/his family. A blind hope really, but I wouldn’t blame him for grappling to home after months in Vere.

This exchange from the night he was captured is painful af. I always forget that Damen was never allowed to mourn for his father. Because this happens, and then he wakes up in an enemy nation. He lowers his sword, he lowers his fucking sword, the most renowned fighter in Akielos only had to hear of his father to put his guard down. That’s what family means to Damen.

I’ll save the pain of recounting every thing Laurent does when Damen is in Vere. Like, dude just lost his father and got kicked out of his country, but Laurent just tries to press salt into that wound. No one questions it and the cruelty of it is lost on us because ofc ✨trauma and revenge✨ on Laurent’s part. (This is why the flogging is one of the most unsettling things about their relationship for me, because it’s never handled properly… just swept under the carpet with that bath scene in the summer palace) But there are moments in Arles when damen’s home sickness comes up in overwhelming waves, like these, when he thinks of the betrayal, the loss, and the danger in Vere.

Then, the ride to Delpha, and falling for Laurent, of all people. Plain bad news for his grief.

Damen is called a playboy prince who likes blondes so often that we forget that falling in love with the enemy was equally difficult for Damen as much as it was for Laurent. Because Damen never knew that Laurent knew who he was, so imagine falling for someone who had you whipped (pun-intended) for no reason but your nationality. *Stomach churning, bile rising nausea*

In the book, when Damen finds out Laurent knew all along, he says laurent must’ve been in some state of delusion and loneliness to have slept with him at Ravenel. Funny how that same logic goes for him. He thinks he tolerates so much crap from Laurent, for no reason but ✨Akielos✨, all the while falling desperately for him.

Because falling for Laurent also meant questioning his own beliefs, discarding the sadness of his fathers death and staying quiet when Laurent openly insults his father, his country, and him. (Laurent’s such a cinnamon roll, but I fucking hate him sometimes, esp for what he did to Damen)

Exhibit A

Laurent spitting about Theomedes’ murder (something Damen didn’t know) at Ravenel, intentionally, knowing it would hurt Damen, talking about Damen as ✨Damianos✨. Which is Laurent fighting back, defending himself, also being petty, sure, but hurting Damen mostly. And Damen, being Damen, does not place a single ounce of blame on Laurent for what he is feeling in that moment. He just internalises the grief, and the guilt onto his own family, thinks of his lost barbarian father, and the traitorous brother. He still wants to help Laurent. Fuck. Because, then he politely raises his hands asking the guards to arrest him after he punches Laurent in grief.

Yes, Laurent apologises, but that too comes with him telling Damen that he was in fact glad when Theomedes and Damianos died. Like I said, salt in the wound, leaving Damen to feel the grief and guilt tenfold.

#captive prince #damen x laurent #c s pacat #damen of akielos #c.s. pacat #cs pacat #kings rising #laurent of vere #prince’s gambit #capri #nikandros #capri queries #capri theories #capri theory #fan theory #griefandloss #damen #laurent

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wandsandwheezes · 3 years

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NASCAR III | G.W

WARNINGS // 6.9k // SMUT 18+, George x Reader // Fred x unnamed OC, Angry Fred, Racer!George, light angst, fighting, rough sex, soft sex, breeding kink af, mentions of alcohol, cars, sex, possession, praise kink, a (tiny) amount of degradation, oral, unprotected sex, one ass slap.

A/N // the series that nobody expected to become a series has now officially done just that. @darthwheezely and I do be hoes for these racer boys xoxo 🏎🦋 ILYSM PHIA MWAH <333

“Fred, have you seen my jumper?”

“Yeah, it’s on the bed, baby” he called. Fred was not often a meticulous man, but (as Lee said) ‘if the fit called for a bit of work, it was always worth it.’

And to Fred, going to a press conference with his exceptionally hot fiancé warranted at least basic perfection, right?

Fred made a low whistle as she came out of the bathroom, a towel around her. “Well, aren’t you just a sight for sore eyes.” She came to stand in front of him, pressing one, two, three kisses to his mouth, the flavour of fresh toothpaste still on her mouth. He hummed in contentment and wrapped his hands around her waist.

“Love, it’ll be fine, this will be my tenth, glorious win-“

“-and you almost got in a crash last time because you were being a tosser, remember?”

“Mmmm, that’s in the details,” he said softly. He searched her eyes and sighed, pulling her flush into his body.

“I promise I’ll be okay this time, you know I’m a great driver and that this isn’t anything different...I still intend on marrying you in one piece, you know.” She chuckled at that and he tilted her chin up, pressing a kiss to her forehead and murmuring:

“I love you, you know that?”

“And I love you, Freddie...even though you are a tosser.”

He slung her over his shoulder, rolling his eyes dramatically, and threw her on the bed, her giggling at the action.

“There’s my saucy little minx, now how about a pre-press test drive, yeah?...”

—

“I can’t just not go, babe.” George sighed, pushing the hair from his face, a sudden clammy feeling of his clothes against his skin indicating just how nervous he was for the up and coming press conference.

“You’re running a fever, George, I’ll call Lee and tell him that you need the rest and that–” You rambled, pressing the cool back of your hand against his forehead, then neck and chest, feeling that thin veil of sweat forming against his hot skin.

“Don’t.” He mumbled all too abruptly, cutting your flow of words short. Furrowing your brows, you looked down at him before shaking your head. He recognised the tone at which he had spat his word, immediately pulling your hand into his, pressing a kiss to your knuckles. “I’m sorry I snapped, I know you’re only looking out for me.”

“It’s okay, Georgie, I still think you should stay here with me.” You sighed, climbing over his legs to be sat in his lap as you breathed out softly, watching as his eyes softened only for his eyebrow to raise, a smirk soon finding his lips while his hands rested on your waist.

“Any old excuse to keep me at the hotel then, eh?” George licked his lips, pulling you closer into his chest as he eyed your expression, the giggle that fell from his lips like pure music to his ears.

“I just want you better for the race, idiot.” You rolled your eyes, pressing a kiss to the tip of his nose, his lips finding your cheeks to pepper kisses there with a smug grin on his face.

“I think I could win this one you know, regardless of me being sick or not, I have a good feeling about it.” He hummed, forehead pressed against yours lovingly.

“What makes you say that?” You prodded, running your hands through the hair at the back of his head.

“I have one thing nobody else has; you.” He praised, only for you to bury your face in the crook of his neck, taking a deep breath as his hands ran up your back. “I love you so much, angel.”

“I love you too, George, more than you’ll ever know.”

—

The conference room was packed - that’s an understatement, really. Every journalist alive came to talk to the new dominators of modern NASCAR racing, George and Fred Weasley. Although, as George spitefully knew:

He was somewhere because of Fred. Again.

That familiar feeling of resentment threatened to bubble in the younger twin’s throat, and he immediately began to push it down. The fights, the mutual disgust and disdain - that was done now. Ten wins for Fred should mean legitimately less than nothing but excitement for his older brother.

So why was that feeling still there?

“Hello, everyone, I’m sorry I’m late!” Fred entered from the back of the stage, nothing but glimmer (and gloat) in the elder twin’s face. Good mood Fred could always either be an impending disaster, or one of the best things the world has ever seen.

Of course he’s late, he’s always late, George thought, before guilt immediately settled in.

Fred took a bottle of water, winking playfully at the young lady who got him one, before settling in his seat next to George.

“Right then, questions?” Fred boomed, that familiar sunshine of a smile very evident on his face. The man behind them, George’s manager was directing questions, and George swallowed at what questions would appear.

“This is for Fred, do you predict another victory in this race?” The journalist asked.

Fred leaned a bit forward in his seat and dipped his mouth into the microphone:

“Does the pope wear a big hat, love?”

George however sniggered to himself at the question, holding back a laugh at Fred’s answer. Of course he would answer in the cockiest way known to man, only lighting a fire under the younger twin’s arse to kick into gear and take the baby driver down a few pegs.

“Something funny, Georgie?” Fred turned his head slightly to the side, the smile still there, but dark eyes venturing into icier territory.

“Nothing, Brother, just think you should remember there is always tough competition, no matter how cocksure you are.” George murmured loud enough into the microphone for his words to reverberate around the room, some reporters eyeing each other before vigorously taking notes.

Fred had been taking a sip of his water and nearly choked, eliciting a “sorry everyone!” into the microphone. He gave George a brief side eye, but no - he wasn’t going to let him ruin his moment again. They’ve moved past this, George can have his own fun, why couldn’t he be a little confident for a change?

“Hi, this question is for George,” Fred only heard that much before a brief but very definite prickle of resentment tingled at his skin. He started to feel a bit warm but was determined to brush it off, turning towards George a bit.

“You’ve had a fantastic season these past couple years, and although you’ve lost the past ten races, you still stick to the top five - will we get our own Crimson Wonder back, or is that Fred’s title now?”

George held back on his instinct to bite at his brother’s ego, instead taking a sip of water to collect his thoughts before speaking, his mind trailing back to the words he had said this morning; ‘I have a good feeling about this one’.

“Fred and I both train hard, as does every other racer out on that track,” George swallowed thickly before continuing his sentence, “But I think my own winning streak is far from over, who knows, as you say, you may get your Crimson Wonder back yet.”

Fred attempted to register and probably stop the inherently blank expression on his face, but honestly? It was too much. Yes, George was great, and yes, he was proud of him but.

Why was there a deeply unsettled feeling in the pit of his stomach? Twintuition as they called it was something not out of the ordinary at all - but why was it that somewhere in the back of his mind he just felt this...this negative foresight.

There was one thing Fred didn’t like more than avocados (Fred hated avocados) and that was losing.

“My baby brother, so inspirational isn’t he? Gets it from my mum, absolutely.” Fred curled his lips into his mouth, gnawing on his bottom lip, in complete understanding of what he just said. The reporters didn’t have to know that any time he brought up their age or said my mum instead of our mum, it kind of lit a match in George.

In short, Fred knew exactly what he was doing. And George didn’t really like that, but he wasn’t about to stoop to Fred’s level and ruin his public imagery, not with his wife-to-be and his sister-in-law-to-be watching and murmuring to each other with pained faces: they knew the tension was there too, of course they had.

“I think we should leave the rest of the heat for rubber burning on the track.” The moderator cut in, taking final questions from the press aimed at the others on the panel, letting the twins simmer in their own jealousy toward one another as the conference came to a close.

The boys’ demeanours had completely shifted, George staying behind to take pictures and leave autographs for fans, smile on his face and a sense of pride in his chest, while Fred had made a swift exit in just the way he arrived, looking absolutely miserable.

—

“Georgie,” Fred called out from the locker rooms, “just what the fuck was that?” His bare chest red while he angrily scrambled to get his uniform on.

“Please,” George scoffed, zipping his uniform up calmly, before pushing his bag into his locker with ease, “I could ask you the same question.”

“I was actually trying to give the press what they wanted, a good show, you, on the other hand, just wanted to be a proper arsehole in front of everyone.” He slammed his locker door shut, his knuckles on his hand against it surely white now from childish rage.

George closed his locker with force, not so much anger, running a hand through his hair before picking up his helmet, his tongue truly in his cheek, the angel on his shoulder begging him to stay quiet while the devil paralleled telling him that it was about time he spoke his feelings. “I’m the arsehole? Check your own actions first, mate.”

He breathed but he wasn’t done, the words flowing like vomit as he finally let go all of the bottled aggression, “You don’t know the first thing about being a racer, how fucking tiring it is and you use it against me like its something I’m not good at and I’m fucking tired of it.”

George went to continue, but the guilt of spitting every thought in his brain suddenly overcame him, instead he clutched at his helmet a little tighter, taking a deep breath before muttering as he walked away, “Good luck out there, you’ll need it.”

Fred stood there watching him walk away, something a bit more unfair that self-loathing and resentment lingering in his chest. It was dizzying, it was a feeling he altogether hated and actively tried to pretend he didn’t have.

Fred Weasley, in short, was guilty.

—

The Arizona sun was beating down on the track, everyone watching on with baited breath as each car lined up on the Phoenix Raceway, engines revving in anticipation of the start of the race. Fred was clutching at his steering wheel tightly, blinkered only on one thing; winning this one. George however, knew the racers he was up against; some of the best in the NASCAR cup and even some that had been driving as long as he had been alive, was lucky to find himself there, taking a deep breath. George wasn’t a religious man but in that moment he was praying to whatever god to grant him some good luck.

The green flag waved, signalling the start of the race, each car zooming by as the engines roared. The race was a tough one and everyone watching on knew that. The first ten or so laps went just as smoothly as planned, a backhaul crash in the 18th lap just missing the twins, but nevertheless cutting the number of racers pretty much immediately in half.

George grew more confident as he crept up the rankings, sitting comfortably in about 6th place for a grand majority of the race, while Fred trailed much behind him in about 8th place. The tension of the conference had truly stumped the older twin, pushing him to want to be up in the top dogs, but to no avail, every attempt was blocked for him.

The final three laps, George was in fourth and Fred was nowhere to be seen, well sat in his 11th place, seething at his inevitable loss. The younger twin was content with his placing, watching the third place drop down to 5th pushing him into the top 3. George swore he felt every single beat of his heart as he zoomed past the lap line. Two to go. Third place was enough for George, especially in a race like this. He zoomed past the lap line again. White Flag. Last chance.

In a flash, a car from behind George pushed forward, striking the first place car, sending three cars spiralling off the track leaving behind only dust sparks and fire in their tacks. It didn’t click for George that he had passed the finish line in 1st place until it blared through his headset.

“I fucking did what?” He shouted as he continued speeding around the track, the confirmation of his win ringing through his ears as he let out a loud but satisfied yell, the stress of weeks of losses finally leaving him in an exhale, welcoming the new feeling of pride.

Fred in the heat of the crash had fallen to 12th place, pushing him to be the last of all the cars on the track past the finish line - a loss he was not ready to accept no matter how much pride beamed from him hearing the news that the winner had been his own twin brother.

—

“George, how does it feel to have a trophy back?”

“Honestly, it feels so surreal - I’m so grateful for my team, crew, and absolutely amazing fiancée, Y/N - I love you so much, baby,” he shouted over the noise, cameras completely swamping the victory stage and hallway down to the bar. He had everything he could’ve wanted, you, a real win again, happy sponsors - but there was one thing missing.

Fred. Where was Fred? Did it really matter? He knew he hadn’t placed very far, but surely he wouldn’t be that angry would he? But then - no. No, George won, he deserved to win again after Fred had been hogging all the sunny days and he was still supportive. So where was his twin now? Even after everything.

He stopped you on his arm and said: “actually, there is one more person I really do have to thank.” He faced directly towards the camera, you utterly confused.

“Thank you, Freddie, for being the best supportive big brother a guy could ask for. You’ve always been a winner to me.” And with a shaky swallow, knowing he wasn’t here, knowing he probably could give a shit whether George thanked him or not, he went off with you on his arm to have a drink.

God knows he needed it.

—

The older twin sat in the lockers, his elbows resting on his knees, his bare arms and chest tensing periodically with pure and spiteful rage. What the absolute fuck had he done differently? He had been on his highest alert, his most pristine focus, what went wrong?

He didn’t crash, he didn’t bitch and moan to his pit crew, he didn’t fly off the handle - yet - so why did he get the curt, “I’m sorry, son, we all lose sometimes,” from Vinnie, his new manager like it was just normal.

Fred Weasley didn’t lose. Especially not after a ten time winning streak, no, he refused.

So there he sat, knowing his fiancé was probably making excuse after excuse as to why her husband had fled the cameras and the questions, why he wasn’t congratulating his brother on his fantastic win - but he didn’t have the energy to feel guilt. All he felt was loathing. He barely didn’t register the soft clicking of his soon to be wife’s heels clacking against the tile floor.

“Fred Weasley, what the fuck are you doing naked in the locker room, I’ve been looking everywhere for you,” she said with great exasperation. She looked stunning, in that pretty little two piece skirt and black crop number, not at all like a woman frantically in search of her formula 1 MIA husband.

“You look great, sweetheart,” he mumbled, barely looking up at her before getting up and turning to his locker, getting out his change of clothes. She watched his back ripple with tension and at the sight alone felt her thighs break for a second.

“So were you planning on telling me where you were or just sulking in here?”

“I was taking a shower, actually...I don’t get why you’re so pissed at me.” He snapped, not even bothering to turn around.

“I’m ‘pissed’ at you because your brother loves you and you’re in here acting like a five year old who got his teddy taken away from him.” She retorted. Fred turned around then, slamming the locker door shut for the second time that day, the sound echoing in the bathroom.

“I’m sorry, what did you just say to me?” He seemed to punctuate every word in the sentence, but his voice very quiet - too quiet.

“You’re - just get your clothes on and knock it off, Weasley,” she scoffed, trying to walk off the very minor but very palpable fear she felt, and the evident arousal pooling in her thighs. Fred, unfortunately, knew this, and in Fred fashion, was feeling quite a good many ways about this.

“Get your ass back here, right now, sweetheart,” he snapped, his volume gaining to a low roar. When she kept on walking to the door, his long legs loped to a brisk walk in front of the doorway, right in front of her. She didn’t realize that she was holding her breath for a second until she exhaled, and his thumb came up to grace her bottom lip.

“Open,” he said quietly, and then she did listen, her lips opening up to his thumb immediately. He always did this mannerism, when he said open he’d open his mouth too, almost showing her how she needed to be before usually saying “theeere, it is” but right now, he was silent, his mouth pressed in a thin line.

But then she bit. And hard. Pushing him off her and making him gasp, her heels clicked down the tile as fast as she could walk. But Fred wasn’t going to let her get away that easy. In an instant he threw his elongated and toned arm out to grab her waist, pulling her back into the wall, caging her in his hold.

“You’re being an absolute twat, you know that?” She spat. He delicately slapped the side of her face and squeezed her cheeks to form an o.

“And you’re being a prissy little bitch, but I’m still here, aren’t I?” He said harshly, scanning her eyes before yanking her in for a kiss. She immediately released a desperate moan into his mouth and he slid his hand through her hair and all the knots and tangles possible to reach the back of her head. His other hand slid down up her skirt to grope her thigh, hoisting her legs around his waist.

“You’re so fucking hot when you’re mad, I swear,” she breathed out, before his lips messily met hers. He always kissed with his jaw, she noticed that, when he’d hit his strong jaw out to move with her and nuzzle her face and then she always moaned like she was doing now.

In an instant he was carrying her back towards the shower, the shuffle of so many movements causing the towel around his waist to fall off.

“You ready to take a winner, baby?”

—

After a couple of drinks it was safe to say that you and George had gotten a little closer than you usually would have sober. He wasn’t even tipsy, feeling no more than the pride of his win but even with that he wasn’t going to ignore the fact that his girl was practically purring for him while clinging to his arm. You were so desperate to pull him in for a kiss, hell you probably would have let him have you in the hall out of pure lust for your husband-to-be.

It had been so long since you’d seen him smile the way he was now, pride radiating off his skin alongside the heat of his lingering fever, making you remember that not only had he won the hardest race he’d ever driven, but he’d done so while sick. A smirk spread over your lips as you went to push up on your toes, lips pecking a gentle kiss to his jaw.

“What’s that for, angel?” He smiled down at you, his lips now ducking down to press a loving kiss to your forehead.

“Just a taste of how I’m gonna congratulate my winner later.” You mumbled playfully as his arm snuck around your waist to pull you in tighter, leaning to whisper in your ear as his lips grazed over your earlobe.

“Guess I should think about getting you to bed then, yeah? That what you want bub?” He pulled away from your ear with a grin stretching from ear to ear.

You nodded bashfully, letting him tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, the rosy hue on his cheeks apparent just from being close to you, in this moment. George didn’t care about the press or his manager or really even the win anymore, not when he had you right in front of him, begging him short of being on your knees.

He made an excuse, whatever it had to be to get you alone, to get away from the champagne, cameras and chatting. His jacket was draped over your shoulders as you found your way out of the celebration lounge, giggling like teenagers as you walked hand in hand to his car, the echoes of laughter humming around the underground car park before he had you trapped between his body and the passenger side door.

“I can’t wait to get you back to our room.” He mumbled, lips just hovering inches away from yours. His hand slipped just under the hem of your top, his hot touch sending sparks flying through you.

“The things I want you to do to me, Weasley.” You breathed out, hand reaching behind his head to pull his lips down to yours, letting him leave no gaps between you, him and his car.

“Oh yeah?,” he murmured breathlessly, nose knocking against yours, “Like what, princess? Don’t be shy, we have a whole journey for you to run that pretty mouth of yours.”

“You’ll ruin me one day if you keep talking like that, George.”

“I think I’ll ruin you tonight instead, love.”

—

“Freddie, please-“

“No, I’m not stopping until you cum on me, princess, I deserve that much,” he snarled, his cock rippling through her over and over. He had intended on fucking all his anger out on her ever since he pushed her into the shower, everything only mouths and melded hands.

“Feels - feels so good, Freddie” she whined, her legs barely able to sustain being wrapped around him. His hips whipcracked into her at an entirely new angle, prompting her to mewl and claw at his back like a cat.

“Oh my poor baby, can she not take my cock? Would another racer do a better job at - “ he pushed deeper into that new spot, her mewls and whines turning to wanton cries. “ - stretching you out instead of me?”

“No one can do this, Fred, I promise, love,” she murmured, her eyes rolling vacantly to the back of her head. He sensed her climax was arriving soon, she was like butter under his hot embrace.

“Look at me,” he growled, squeezing her face and tilting it upwards. “I want to see my prize when she makes a mess everywhere, you hear me, princess?” Her widened eyes bore into his deep chocolate ones and when she finished, she truly could not look at anything else except him, it was always him and only him that made her feel like this.

“Thaaaat’s it, baby, look at you, being such a dirty little girl for me. You like making messes for me, princess?” He cooed, his soft and caring tone a total opposite to the way he pulled out and slammed back in, making her scream and be flush against him.

“M-mhm,” she murmured, Fred shaking his head as he chuckled, carrying her dripping out of the shower, still inside her. “Do you want me to take you off?” He whispered, the anger still in his throat, but...she would always be more important. Making her feel safe was always important, even in the worst of his rage. Fortunately, she nodded at him and kissed his jaw, a soothing gesture that always meant she loved him, everything was okay, he didn’t hurt her. He smoothed the top of her wet hair down and gave the top of her head a kiss, his ring finger stroking against the centre of her spine.

But then, a certain thought excited him blackly.

“Baby…who put that ring on you?” He asked pensively. No, he didn’t win that idiotic fucking race, and no, he didn’t beat his brother in this race but - he still won her. He suddenly felt his dick twitch deep inside her and he groaned, clenching his jaw at the sudden awareness of her engagement ring digging into his shoulder. He fully stopped looking at the ground and the towel on the locker hanger, reaching for it and dropping it flat on the ground.

“F-Freddie?” She asked weakly.

“Mhm?”

“What - what are you doing?” She released a high pitch whine at the feeling of Fred twitching again, and at that he flipped her over on the towel, backside up, his cunt and his ass being fully presented to him like that. And then he moaned, his eyes shutting after and his jaw rolling when he saw her buck her ass up to try and meet him wherever he was behind her.

“God, you are just a good for nothing little Formula 1 whore aren’t you?” He breathed out, his hands sliding to cup her ass and squeezing, relishing in the scarlet rash of skin that came and went with a blink of an eye.

“You’d like to think so,” she quietly quipped, his hands suddenly freezing on her ass.

“Oh...is that so? Well, then…” and at that he slowly began to squeeze again until she was squirming, then bringing his hand down to the centre of her ass, a loud smack echoing in the room. She cried into the towel and bucked her ass towards him once again.

“Yes, yes, I’m a Formula 1 whore,” she wept, Fred chuckling and positioning his cock at her entrance, just barely letting his tip brush her cunt.

“What if I just stayed here, hmm? Didn’t even let you have my cock, just gave you a taste of what it would be like to get fucked by me and go use another checkered flag slut instead, that sound good, baby?” He said crisply, trying not to let the tortured feeling of his cock get to him.

“Fred, I-“ and with a final growl, Fred pushed himself to the brim inside her once more. She cried out his name into the towel, his free hand not bracing himself from behind pushing her head into the towel. He was devouring every noise that came from her mouth, mostly strained cries and pants that registered with every crack of his hips inside her. He felt her near her release again, his as well, his hips losing tempo.

“Gonna marry you and stuff you with aaaall my babies, isn’t that right princess? Gonna make my trophy wife swell up, you won’t be able to even fathom seeing that pretty pussy of yours in the morning” He panted, groaning at the sight of his cock disappearing and reappearing in her - in his - cunt.

“Please, wanna be so full, of your...of your babies, Fred,” she whimpered, his name falling from her lips like alphabet soup as she, with a final rock of her ass against him, came undone around him. He gripped her hips and with a sharp “I love you, fuck” followed her in the same way, his hips rolling ever so gently back into her to soothe their highs.

After a moment he pulled out of her, dismantling the baby hairs sticking to her forehead out the way, pressing kiss after kiss there.

“Weasley, you got any car plush toys on you by chance?” She quipped, prompting a grin from Fred and a chaste kiss to her lips and nose.

“No, but the Babies R Us near home might…”

—

The second you were parked up, George had his hand snaked around the back of your neck pulling you in to peck your lips over and over, warm and comforting giggles slipping from your lips between every kiss. The trip up to your room took twice the time it would usually take, stopping frequently to evade the hotel staff, as well as missing your floor entirely in the elevator; too distracted by the taste of his lips and the way his hands gripped desperately at your hips.

Once well inside your hotel room, you found yourself underneath him, hair sprawled out beneath you as he marvelled at your beauty. A toothy grin spread across his lips before his head ducked down to press a kiss just below your ear, sucking a deep purple mark against your warm skin as a giggle erupted through his throat, the vibrations causing you to do the same, hands pressed against his shoulders to push him away.

“Good lord, woman, I love you.” He breathed out, his lips moving to press a kiss to your forehead. You sighed out a moan as his fingers slipped underneath the hem of your shirt, bunching the fabric up as he pushed it up your torso and over your bra, exposing the plain but gorgeous lace.

His lips soon pressed against your exposed skin, sucking mark after mark down the valley of your breasts, humming in satisfaction at the way you writhed beneath him as your hands wove through his soft, ginger locks, tousling them perfectly as you giggled together.

“You may have won today, Georgie, but I’m winning now.” You whined, keeping him pulled close to you as his free hand snuck just underneath the hem of your skirt, fingers brushing against your sensitive clit as he swallowed each and every moan, taking pleasure in slipping the flimsy lace to the side to sink his fingers into you quickly and with no mercy, letting you chant his name as you begged for more.

It didn’t take much for him to oblige, hardly pulling away from you to slip his cock free, teasing your entrance for a moment before he was pushing slowly into you, letting you get used to the feeling of the first few inches, only for him to pull back out, chuckling darkly at the way you writhed against the sheets. “Baby please, don’t tease me like that.”

He pouted mockingly, dipping his head down to press a slow and intimate kiss to your lips, nose nudging against yours before he mumbled into the kiss, letting you lean into it. “As you wish, princess.”

Almost all at once, you felt him move your hips to the right position, continuing to tease you as he sank slowly into you, not daring to pull away again as he eyed the way your face contorted with pleasure, your hands slipping under the thin t-shirt, he wore, pulling it over his head and tossing it across the room, your nails dragging down the freshly exposed skin, pulling a groan from him.

“I’m gonna fuck you so deep, bub, gonna make you scream and give you a baby.” He groaned, hands pressing your head down to the mattress as he cradled it, hot breath fanning over your face as his slow thrusts pulled moan after moan from you.

His strong arm hooked underneath you, pulling you up and into his chest, as his hips continued in pushing in and out of you at the most antagonising pace. He smirked at the way your head immediately fell to rest on his shoulder, your eyes squeezing shut from the new angle.

“Bet you’re loving this aren’t you? Not so bold anymore, angel.” His gravelly voice rumbled through your ear, hand gripping that little bit tighter as he felt your small shallow breaths growing deeper at the intensely slow lovemaking you were far from expecting tonight.

“I’m still bold.” You whispered, nudging forward to pull his earlobe between your teeth before peppering sloppy, wet kisses along his neck.

“Funny one, love.” He smirked, beginning to pick the pace up a notch, enough to bring the hanging release down on you, pushing you to be clenching around him as you begged for it. “I knew you’d like that.”

He had a way of completely dumbfounding you, making you lost for words, finding yourself against the sheets fully again, this time he had hooked your legs over his shoulders only to lean down and press his lips to yours, all the time his skilled fingers toyed with your clit.

You felt as if every sense had been awoken, stimulated by his very touch like a fire had been lit around you, pulling you into the embrace of the flames as you found yourself screaming his name, the inevitable high falling over you.

“That’s it, baby, doing so good for me…” He breathed heavily, his lips pressing to your forehead as he continued to ride out your high, his own release painting your walls as he fucked it into you, pulling true on his promise of filling you up.

You felt so full, his love washing through you from head to toe as he lazily kissed you, slipping your legs off his shoulders to pull you back into his arms, keeping himself bottomed out inside of you.

“I’m dead serious about giving you a baby, princess.” He chuckled, hand trailing up and down your back as he traced languid shapes into your soft skin.

“Good, I’m dead serious about having your baby.”

—

Fred knocked on the door, his foot tapping on the carpet outside George’s hotel room. He was always a fidgety man, but today would be all too different for the eldest Weasley twin.

He knocked once more, altogether considering just going home and leaving a lengthy but probably nonsense voicemail, if not entirely fueled by alcohol then by sheer force of nature that was his fiancé alone.

He had decided on giving up, his legs stretching as he turned around. But then the door opened, the equally messy haired ginger behind it looking so much calmer and more serene than Fred ever could.

“Heya, Georgie,” Fred breathed out. George would never have said it out loud, but Fred looked like absolute death. He could tell his older brother had gotten little to no sleep, his eyes sunken in. He knew Fred was hurting, and George never was one to rub it in. If anything, George would always be the one who understood him the most, they rarely ever had to apologize to each other for things like this, their souls simply understanding when pain was evident.

“Morning, Freddie…” George spoke warmly, crossing his arms over his chest for a moment, smiling lazily at his twin as he pondered his next move. “D’you wanna come in?”

“Yeah...yeah, that’d be nice,” he swallowed, smiling softly at his slightly younger (but in many ways, much older) twin.

George stepped aside, letting his brother in as he shut the door behind him. He rubbed his hands together, a smile that rounded his cheeks on his face as he sensed the awkwardness in the room. This wasn’t like them at all. “Everyone missed you yesterday, Fred, parties aren’t the same without you.”

“As in, no one drank all the rum and Coke at the party without me is what I’m hearing?” He cracked a small smile, attempting to avoid as much eye contact with Georgie that wasn’t necessary.

“George, I’m so sorry.” He said softly, his jaw stilling.

“You don’t have to apologise, Fred.”

“No, but I do. I...I know how special being behind the wheel is to you, and you’re right. I don’t know what it means to win, at least not like you, and...George, you’re my best friend, stupid.” He aggressively wiped under his eyes. “I want to be happy for you and lately I haven’t even been thankful for you and that isn’t fair, mate, I...I love you. So much.”

“I feel like I was losing you there, Freddie, I’ve hardly seen you, we don’t talk unless it’s a press conference and just… Fuck I hate this, I miss being able to call you and talk about all the dumb things we can do together.” George sighed, looking up to the ceiling to stop the tears from falling.

Fred’s, however, were already hitting the ground. “I hate it too, Georgie...I hate it so much. It’s fun, being a racer like you - with you - but I just...I want to fix your tires again, man” he tearfully chuckled, watching George do the same. “I want to say stupid shit like ‘baby brother, your blinker fluid is out’ over the headset and listen to you cuss me out, and I want to be able to know I’m still on your team at the end of the day.” He curled his lip inward. “That’s all I’ve wanted. Is to be on your team.”

“You have no idea what it’s like to win without you, when you’re out there making sure that everything is okay I just know my big brother is there looking out for me and I miss it, I miss telling everyone that it was you who made it possible, Freddie, you’re my star man.” George smiled, scratching his arm nervously, wanting nothing more than for things to be like old times.

Fred let out a breathy laugh, his eyes still brimming with fresh tears. “I’m the last one to thank, you big wanker, I don’t drive the damn thing constantly, that’s all you and your foolishness.” He swallowed. “I just...if you’ll have me back, I already talked to the Wood Brothers and everything but um...there’s a deal where I would be able to also drive once a month or so, and be your Pit Crew Pit Bull the other races. If that was okay with you - I want to be there with you again.” His knee bounced in the silence, his guilt and fear bouldering in his throat.

“I’d want nothing more than to have you back, I think it’ll be good for you to still stay driving, you have to get that adrenaline fill somewhere… I don’t say it enough, but I’m proud of you, proud of what you’ve achieved.” George smiled, the toothy grin brightening up the room as the awkwardness seemed to fade. “Even though you do become a cocky bastard sometimes.”

Fred scoffed and rolled his eyes. “One does not become a cocky bastard, Georgie-kins, one is a cocky bastard...also, I have to be,” he said getting up and moving to where George was sitting. “if I’m going up against my snot-nosed little brother who’s getting married and is going to expect me to babysit for a thousand hateful children,” he waggled his eyebrows and threw a pillow at him. “But thank you...I mean that. You know you’re easily the best on that track every time. Every time. I’m...I'm proud to be your twin, Georgie.”

“I don’t know how I survived without your brilliant humour gracing us all, Freddie, I truly missed the inspiring wit,” George chuckled, gently nudging his twin with his fist, “After all, you’re not too bad of a brother to have, not everyone can be me but you’re as close as anyone’s gonna get.” He smirked, eyebrow raised as he looked over to his twin.

“I truly am so distraught I did not destroy you in the womb when I had the shot, but here’s to the wish anyway,” full on slamming George in the face with the pillow and howling at the action. “Top that, bitch,” he barked.

“It’s on now.” George laughed, throwing the pillow back at his brother, sending an eruption of laughter echoing around the hotel room, the two boys flinging cushions around like there was no tomorrow.

But the laughter didn’t end, only continuing as loud roars and giggles as time passed. You found yourself swinging your legs out of bed, trudging towards the source of the noise, only to find feathers everywhere and the twins laughing together in a childlike manner. “Could the two of you be any more loud?”

“Sorry, baby… didn’t mean to wake you up.”

“Yeah, sorry, Y/N.” Fred chimed in.

“You’re damn lucky it isn’t early, Weasley.” You sighed, rolling your eyes as you shuffled off towards the warm embrace of the morning shower, thankful to see the twins as they should be, happy and together once again.

A/N // so phia and i have pretty much decided that we’re gonna keep this going so... part IV coming sooooon ;))))

taglist // @slytherinsunrise @gcdricreads @theweasleysredhair @vogueweasley @vivianweasley @feetoffthetablee @thisismynerdyself @witch-and-a-half @loony-loopy-lupinn @rip-us @hopemalfoyweasley @whizboingies @pansydaisy @darthwheezely @lumos-barnes @starlightweasley @valwritesx @weelittleweasley

#NASCAR Series #george weasley fic #george weasley #george weasley x reader #george weasley fluff #george weasley smut #george weasley angst #fred weasley fic #fred and george #gred and forge #fred weasley fluff #fred weasley #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley x oc #harry potter #harry potter fic #harry potter writing #harry potter smut

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writer-ish · 3 years

Text

games we play

pairing: mason x detective (grace bennett) word count: 2.7K words rating: E - minors please DNI this is 🔞🔞 af summary: Mason comes by Grace’s apartment unexpectedly.

For Week 3, Day 2 of @hotwayhavensummer: Half-Naked

a.n. I got so sick and couldn’t finish this story in time for a proper Day 2 release so here it is now, several days late, completed through a combination of sheer force of will and advil cold & sinus. on that note, sorry if it’s all over the place and makes no sense. 😬 I’m still not 100% but since I managed to get this done I’m gonna drop it and bounce. one more in the works still! (release date tbd. lol)

thanks for all the well wishes and support, i read all your messages and love you all so so much!! hope you enjoy this. 😘

“You showing off for the neighbours, sweetheart?”

She gasps, throwing her headphones off and whirling around, covering her bare chest with her hands. When she sees who it is, her shoulders sag in relief, even as her mouth twists in sardonic reproach.

Looking down, she must realize the futility of covering herself in front of him and hesitantly drops her hands, holding her arms out as if to say “Well?”

He smirks, feeling the point of his fang dig into the side of his lower lip.

Normally she can track him. The click or slide of an opening door. The footsteps that he doesn��t bother disguising as he trods through her living space. Even his voice, carrying from outside to inside in a motion as fluid as his body entering along with it.

This time, he’d been quieter. It wasn’t his intent to startle her – he’d assumed she would see him almost immediately anyway, since he could usually find her lying on the couch with a book in her hand as soon as he came in from the balcony door, his preferred method of entry.

But she hadn’t been in the main area, despite the scented candles burning low, the smell of vanilla unpleasantly tickling his nostrils.

And just as he’s about to announce his presence before following the sound of her heartbeat into her bedroom, something holds him back.

A desire, perhaps, to see her unawares for just a moment. Moving around in her natural element without the self-conscious awareness of someone watching her.

He had only seen her that way a handful of times: muttering to herself as she paced while thinking through an idea or tying her hair up in a messy bun before letting it all down and doing it again or quietly humming as she waited for toast to pop out of the toaster.

She was beautiful and soft, her skin infinitely touchable, her hair fine and lustrous with just a bit of a wave. There were so many things about her that he found appealing that the idea of her being self-conscious never did sit with him too well.

Don’t you know, he wants to ask, how beautiful you are? How perfect?

He never would, though. He can’t bring himself to say those words out loud. Even in the deep recesses of his mind, they feel foreign – an emotion, rather than a statement he’s willing to express.

Instead, all he knows is that he doesn’t like the way her eyes dart to the side when he gets closer, or the way her shoulders hitch up when she’s asked to talk about something she’s learned. He wants to imbue her with the confidence she deserves – in her brain, in her beauty, in her place at the Agency, and in this stupid little town that doesn’t even know how good they have it – but he’s never been the one for flowery words or declarations of longing.

(He’s never had to be before.)

Shaking his head of unsettling thoughts, he quietly trods through her living room, not muffling his steps but not making them apparent either. He gets to the doorway of her bedroom, the door already open wide, and rests his shoulder against the doorframe. In a single moment, he assesses any potential threat, as he always does no matter where he is.

Two points of entry: the doorway he’s standing in and an open window, shades only half drawn. A streetlamp and the moon provide minimal light through the open curtain, slightly blocked by the building directly across from her.

She’s standing in the middle of the room, headphones on and her back to him, her body silver-limned by the partial moonlight. She’s unbuttoning her shirt as her hips sway slightly back and forth. Her heartbeat is slow and steady; melodic, like the music he hears coming from her ear buds. She shrugs out of the top and tosses it gracefully onto the end of the bed – another characteristic she only seems to have when no one is watching, this sinuous elegance that replaces her typical, fumbling lack of dexterity – before unclipping her bra and sending it along with her shirt.

He admires her half-nude form – the smooth lines of her back nipping inwards before curving outwards and down to highlight supple hips and a perfectly rounded ass, accentuated by the fitted skirt she’s wearing. The heels she’d had on earlier that day – he remembers admiring them, imagining her wearing them and nothing else – kicked off to the side.

Just as she reaches back to the zipper of her skirt, he picks up on some movement outside. He can identify the light flap of a wing – a bat or some sort of night bird – but it draws his attention to the open window and to the half-nude form of Grace standing in front of it, for anyone else to see.

He speaks up before he even realizes what he’s saying, the words sardonic and curiously tense; his line about showing off for the neighbours. As if he would even care, should even care.

Let them look, he thinks, but the words ring false in the private corners of his mind, his exhibitionist streak lying dormant just this once.

He’s brought back to the moment by the remnants of a pounding heart, just now starting to slow down after she’d realized who, exactly, startled her. He has the decency to feel a little guilty for a fraction of a second, before those hands protecting her modesty come down and he gets distracted, eyes taking her in—from the temptingly smooth skin of her neck, to her small, pert breasts, to the vulnerable sweep of her belly, and even lower still.

“Look at you, skulking in the corner,” she comments, drawing his gaze back up to hers with a smirk. His fangs withdraw but he can still feel them, sharp. Waiting.

She’s crossed her arms over her chest as she speaks, which only works to push her tits together in a mouthwatering display. “Trying to scare me?”

“Why, sweetheart?” he drawls, pushing away from the door and ambling towards her. “You scared?”

He catches her blush, feels the heat from her cheeks rather than sees it, and he’s got her in his arms in seconds, those little tits pressed against the cool leather of his jacket. She lets out a shuddery breath at the contact.

“Should I be?” she asks quietly, tucking her arms under his coat and bringing them around his waist.

“Never,” he promises and captures her lips. She moans into his kiss and he can already mark how turned on she is, the slight titillation from a passing fear, the press of bare skin on leather, him in her space, imposing and incongruous at the same time.

They kiss slowly, lazily, stoking a fire that’s always embers anyway. He feels her nails dig into his back and he moves her backwards until her legs hit the bed. Pulling away he removes his jacket and she sits and watches him, biting down on her bottom lip, swollen and red-tinted.

He drops his jacket to the floor and disposes quickly of his shirt as well, before making to crawl over her, when she stays him with a hand on his chest.

“I thought,” she whispers, almost shyly, eyes darting to the side, “you said something about giving the neighbours a show?”

He stills, an odd feeling in his chest.

“Is that what you want, sweetheart?” he asks eventually, pressing a kiss to the soft spot under her ear. He lifts her up and takes her to the window, turning her around so that her body is facing the glass. His hands stroke up her chest, cupping her breasts, each a perfect handful, feeling her distended nipples in his palms. She whimpers softly and leans back into him, covering his hands with her own.

He peers outside, telling himself he’s only looking to make sure it’s safe, to ascertain that there is nothing that can bring them harm, being in such a vulnerable position in a vulnerable place.

If he were capable of honesty, however, even with himself, maybe he would admit that what he’s really looking for are faces and eyes – strangers watching something that he isn’t entirely sure he’s willing to put on display. Someone he isn’t willing to put on display. Not now. Not like this.

But all he sees is the bricked exterior of a building, a corner edge with no windows or balconies, save for a few tucked in to the other side, their windows dark, the blinds drawn. No one looking out, or able to see anything even if they had been.

He looks down at her and she’s smirking up at him. She’d known all along there wouldn’t be anyone to see them, but now she’s also learned that it had been a concern of his.

He’s not sure how he feels about that.

Leaning down, he bites gently on the curve of her neck where it meets her shoulder and she whimpers lightly. One hand slides across her chest from one breast to the other, while his other hand trails around her body and down, to the zipper on her skirt.

“You think you’re funny, huh?” he whispers against her ear, feeling her shiver as he slowly drags the zipper down.

She bites her lip and leans her head back on his shoulder as a response.

“Would you like them to see you like this?” he continues, his voice low and rough, tugging her skirt until it pools on the floor at her feet. “See me doing this to you?” His hands come back up to her breasts and his fingers pluck at her nipples, extending them, cupping her breasts with his hands and pushing them together, putting them on display.

“They’ll see how hard you get here for me—” He circles one nipple with his pointer finger, then puts that finger into her mouth, nudging it past her parted lips, pressing it into her tongue.

With a low moan, she sucks it in until the first knuckle and he growls deep in his throat, burying the sound in her neck.

Then he takes his wet finger and circles the other nipple. “—And here.”

Her breath is coming in short pants, her skin erupted in goosebumps. He can hear her thundering heartbeat and can smell her arousal in the air. He knows if he trails his hand down lower, into her panties, he’ll find her wet, drenched and wanting.

But he abstains, for now. A little punishment is in order first.

Flattening his palm above her breasts, he smooths his hand over her chest, back and forth across her collarbone.

“They’ll see how red you get here, when you want me.” He ducks his head and laves a wet kiss against her neck, dragging his mouth up towards her ear.

Her skin is delicious here, soft and sweet, and he can feel his fangs protruding in impatient yearning.

He plays a dangerous game with himself, kissing and suckling her here as often as he does, but it’s worth it for her sweet moans and the way she squirms against him every time.

She’s looking down at his hand against her chest, large and dark, as it moves up and down, just missing her aching nipples each time. He coasts up from her chest to wrap his fingers lightly around her neck and applies the barest pressure to get her to tilt back again, nipping at her ear.

“You get red here, too,” he murmurs and he can feel the heat from her skin, temperature increasing at his words as he moves from her neck to graze her cheeks softly with the back of his finger before going back. “They’ll think my Gracie is shy. That she didn’t want this. But she did, didn’t she?”

He feels her swallow, hard, her neck moving under his shallow grip. She nods jerkily, turning slightly so her cheek hits his.

“I want anything with you,” she whispers back, “I want all of it.”

And in just a few words, she’s regained the upper hand. Ten words and she has unmanned him.

Every time he thinks he’s in control, Grace comes along with a line that sends him reeling.

He presses his eyes hard into her shoulder, trying to get himself under control. He feels breathless – which is ridiculous, because there’s no breath to lose – and his eyes itch and tingle with a pressure he doesn’t know how to discern. When he feels her hand in his hair, stroking backwards, lightly scratching his scalp, he knows he needs to shift gears once more.

He pulls her against him roughly, pressing a hand on her pelvis so her underwear-clad bottom is flush with the erection behind his jeans. He slides his hand down, under the lace of her panties, skimming through soft skin and light curls until it finds its destination.

With a protracted moan, she spreads her legs wider for him and he murmurs his approval into her neck, kisses and praise against her skin.

“Look at this,” he marvels, continuing the game from before, but not feeling like he’s playing any longer, “look how wet she is for me. Do you think they know? Do you think anyone realizes how your body responds to me?”

She shakes her head fitfully, biting her lip on another moan. His fingers play lightly in her liquid heat, avoiding the spot that he knows will bring her relief.

It’s an intentional torture; maybe he likes making her body beg for him or maybe it’s for daring to make him feel something other than apathy and arousal.

Either way, he enjoys the way she comes undone in his arms, the way her legs shake and her fingers twitch with longing.

“Anyone else do this to you, sweetheart?” His voice is rough, affected by the scent and the feel of her unravelling in his arms. “Anyone else make you feel this way?”

He’s never wanted and not wanted an answer before in such acutely equal measure, even though he already knows what she’s going to say—

“No,” she breathes, her voice hitching. “No one. Not ever.”

His chest swells with pride and possessiveness. It’s sick, the way his old desires collapse when he’s around her. His expectations and his wants; how they’ve shifted thanks to the tiny human, wet and writhing in his arms.

Not just shifted—how they’ve changed. Irrevocably.

“Good.” It comes out in a rasp and his fingers shift, two of them moving through the wetness to apply pressure directly to her clit, slipping up and over the little nub in a quick, intentional rhythm.

She gasps and falls back, one hand in his hair, pulling, while the other wraps around his back to grip his bare skin. He feels her nails in his side and he hisses at the pleasure pain of it, moving his fingers down to the entrance of her body to find the spot in there that he knows will undo her.

He presses deeply inside of her, the wet give of her body accepting him immediately, her inner walls already clenching around him. He’s surrounded by her, the scent and the feel of her, her pounding heartbeat and her quick, breathless whimpers as he feels her hurtling towards the precipice of her climax.

Pressing a kiss to the salty sweetness of her neck, he strums her clit lightly with his thumb and holds her tightly as she shatters.

She is grace and she is Grace. She’s everything – a confidant, an ally, a co-conspirator, a lover, and a friend. He can’t imagine his life without her, not anymore.

A fucking terrifying prospect and an admission all at once.

One he still can’t bring himself to fully acknowledge.

One he’ll keep deep inside, locked up, until the day it breaks free of its own volition.

His hand stays clenched in her body, soothing her through her orgasm, while the other covers her mouth in a firm but gentle grip, cutting off the cry she’d been releasing.

“Shh,” he hushes, mouth on her jaw, pressing open kisses along her flushed cheeks. “What if the neighbours hear?”

He’ll continue to play the game, for now.

It’s all he knows how to do.

#hotwayhavensummer #hot wsf #nsft #mature #day 2: half-naked #the wayhaven chronicles #mason x detective #please ignore any typos #and assume i'm already ashamed of all the ones you find #twc fic #twc

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