#mom says go over to this kid's house after school and be a pal to him however distasteful you may find it. pity befriend him.

[vegaseatsass]

Woke up today thinking about Vegas sulking after he gets blacklisted and petulantly telling Pete "I'm NOT going to the safehouse alone."

It's YOUR fault I'm getting put in time out so you HAVE to come and keep me company and play house with me and if you think you can say no I will KILL YOUR GRANDMA

#vegaspete #vegas has so many like Villain tm lines in eps 10 and 11 but this one is such a brat line #JUST SOMETHING ABOUT THE OVERT LOSER VULNERABILITY OF IT #yes he threatens to murder his grandma and calls him a dog #but he is openly doing this because he's NOT going to the safehouse alone!!!! #what do you want pete you want to ruin his plans AND leave him alone in a house by himself moping about it? #i don't think so buddy #you gotta step up #mom says go over to this kid's house after school and be a pal to him however distasteful you may find it. pity befriend him. #(except not mom. grandma. who he will kill if you don't) #kpts #dear diary

[dayumbxxch]

Spoiled Memories

Chapter two

The clicking of shoes on tile fills the halls of Smith's Grove. A young 22 year old with dull eyes follows behind Delores, learning what to do at her new job.

The hushed lunchroom made Y/N heart race; even though she knew none of the patients were paying her any attention she couldn't help but feel self conscious. 

Y/N's eyes glaze over as she mindlessly follows the older woman. Life had become dull and meaningless ever since she'd lost her brother. So she began to let her mind drift throughout the day to happier times. It had cost her a few jobs and almost a car crash once but she left more alive in her mind. 

"-ey!" 

"What were you saying?" 

"We have to go down the hall to deliver the food to the ones that have to stay in their rooms."

Nodding the girl follows behind her mentor, the hallway was pin-drop silent. "These patients are deemed as hazards or themselves..or to others." Delores's voice dropped near the end while glancing towards a door they had passed. 

Her lunch break approached rather quickly, leaving the break room Y/N began ease dropping on a conversation while grabbing a soda. 

"So how's the new girl?"      "Weird she doesn't really say anything. She just stands there silent and shit." 

Hearing enough Y/N turned on her heel and walked back into the break room. Throughout her years of being a recluse she learned not to care about anything really. 

She was here for money to find her brother. That was all she wanted ever since he went to jail and she was moved to a different foster home. 

"So have you met the boogeyman yet?" 

"Um..no I don't think I have"

Y/N's new coworker began a strange story. 

"So there was this boy in a town near here in haddonfield. And one day after the years of bullying and torment he snapped and killed his sister, a kid from his school, and his step dad. So he was brought here when he was just ten years old. His mom came to see him every week. Then he snapped again killing a nurse right after the doctor stepped out of the room. His mom tired of it all shot herself dead. And in the next room was her daughter the boogeyman's little sister Laurie. Now he rots away in his room and he smells terrible. He looks homeless and has really greasy hair."

The boy described rang an unforgotten bell in Y/N head. "What was his name?" The woman spun around a clipboard from beside her. 

Michael Myers

Y/N's heart skipped a little her golden childhood friend had murdered a bunch of people; he's now in the Sanitarium she just started working at. "I'm Isabella by the way!" "Y/N." 

"Elvis I'm home!" A beaten up looking Russian Blue cat jumped at the sound of the front door opening. "Hey honey are you hungry~" Sitting her keys down Y/N picks up her beloved pet and walks him over to the kitchen. 

The move wasn't awful since she didn't have much to unpack it only took a couple of hours. Elvis had gotten used to the new house already and even started exploring outside.

Y/N's life continues as dull as normal even with her late night runs to calm her mind before bed. Everyday seemed to be a repeat of the last. It had only been a week but it felt like a month. The shifts went by slow and her home time with Elvis went by fast.

As usual Y/N begins her day staring off into nothing while sitting in bed. A loud alarm jolts her out of her dazed state, she makes her way to the bathroom.

After doing her usual eyeliner to bring some attention to her e/c eyes instead of the ever darkening circles around her eyes.

The drive to work was the usual forty-five minutes filled with hard rock playing to keep her awake.

"Hey Isabella." Her voice was barely audible but her newly found friend understood her perfectly. "Hey hon how's it going?" The blonde sets an energy drink in front of Y/N as she drinks her own. "Since you're now working the early shift you get to meet the man, the myth, and the legend, Michael Myers and his little pal Dr. Loomis." 

Y/N rolls her eyes while chugging her drink quickly. Tears prick her eyes from the carbonation, blinking them away she stands up and follows her friend. 

"So he's the usual creep. He stares and stands there until you leave. He likes OJ and that's about all we know about him. Don't give him anything remotely sharp he has special silverware that will bend if he tries to stab anyone with it." 

Y/N bites the inner part of her lip and Isabelle picks up on her silence. "You'll be fine. The man has got to eat." She says while handing her a tray. "Him and Dr. Loomis are in there." She uses her head to motion towards two doors. 

"Go" Y/N gets pushed towards the double doors and gulps while  the guards let her inside. Not saying a word she sets Michael's tray on the table. Y/N's eyes flicker towards the huge man and her breath escapes her. She'd briefly met eyes with the man in the mask. 

"Thank you ma'am you may go. Now Michael can you look back at the picture please?" 

A heavy feeling settled in Y/N's stomach, she'd always had a knack for feeling people's stares. 

"Michael?... Michael!"

"Ma'am could you please come back here for a moment?" 

#michael myers x reader #michael myers #x reader #fem reader #slasher x reader #halloween

[yurayura-kurage]

A3! Troupe Event: MY WORST WEDDING | Event Story Translation (8/11)

Neither Japanese nor English is my first language so please forgive me if I made mistake. However, feel free to point me out, I’d love to hear your feedbacks on the translation ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶

Translation under the cut

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Sakyo’s mother: ––Oh my, so this is what the bride’s makeup room looks like. It’s princess-like.

Azami: I’m sorry for being selfish. The one who stirred Sakyo up is me.

Sakyo’s mother: It’s alright. Because there is no doubt that you guys will never be able to persuade me unless doing this way, Sakyo said this just then, right.

Sakyo is also a stubborn child, isn’t he? He really inherited my personality traits well.

…I’m sorry. Now that you guys have had things done for me, maybe I should just honestly and happily receive it…

Azami: I know. Look at this first.

Sakyo’s mother: ––

Azami: This dress was made by Yuki-san, our theater troupe’s costume designer after asking Sakyo’s younger sister to check your size. 

Sakyo’s mother: Eh, you guys went out of your way just to do this for me…?

Azami: When I asked, he was excited to prepare the dress.

Sakyo is always stingy to pay for the fabric for our theater troupe’s costume, but when he asked Yuki-san to make the dress with the highest quality clothing materials, Yuki-san was pumped up. 

Sakyo was the one who paid for all the materials to make the dress. He also said that he’d pay for the designing and tailoring cost too, but Yuki-san told him he enjoyed making the dress, and it was for Sakyo’s mother so he’s gonna make it for free.

Sakyo’s mother: So that’s it… This dress is so beautiful.

Azami: Sakyo also said “If she doesn’t want to wear it, then that’s fine. It’s just the same as the hair tie I gave her back then.”

Sakyo’s mother: That child… He still remembers that story.

Azami: This is the dress that Yuki-san made only for you, so it’ll definitely look good on you. And I’ll make sure that you can wear it with confidence after I do the makeup and style your hair.

So why don't you give it a try and then decide what to do? Please, I beg you.

Sakyo’s mother: …If you insist, then I guess I can’t say no anymore. I’m counting on you.

But why does Azami-kun have to go this far?

Azami: It’s gonna be a quite long story, so I’ll tell you ‘bout it while putting on the makeup.

*Short timeskip*

Azami: I grew interested in makeup when helping my sick mother with her makeup.

Sakyo’s mother: Your mother is…

Azami: She passed away when I was still a kid.

Sakyo’s mother: I see…

Azami: After my mother passed away, Sakyo came to my house. My dad was busy, so Sakyo has been taking care of me for a long time…

*Flashback*

Dad brought Sakyo to my house when I was 6 years old.

“Sakyo?” “Right. From now on, this guy will take care of you.”

Ever since I was a baby, there were lots of young folks (*) coming in and out of my house frequently, so it’s not strange to see newcomers in my house, but among them, Sakyo was very young.

Until then, it was the young folks taking turns to pick me up and drop me off at the nursery school. But since that day, Sakyo has been in charge of all those duties.

“Oi, Sakyo. I’m thirsty." “What did you just call me… Here, drink some water.”  “I want orange juice.”  “If you only drink sweet things, you’ll get cavities in your teeth.”  “Orange juice!”  “You can drink it only when you eat snacks.”

“Then, I’ll have some snacks.” “Only after you’re done learning how to use the abacus.” “Annoying.” “It’s gonna be useful if you can memorize it.” “No one does that.”

“Then what are your pals doing?" “Don’t know. I’ve never hung out with them.” “...Do you want to play with bubble wrap.” “That’s boring!”

He’s naggy, and looked like a cold person at first, but he kept following me because it was his responsibility to watch over me.

I even spent more time together with him than with my dad, we started to open up with each other gradually, and it slowly became more fun playing with him.

When my mom passed away, I pretended to look fine in front of my dad, but deep down in my heart, that was a huge shock to me.

It was undoubtedly thanks to Sakyo that I was able to truly get over my mom’s death at that time. 

*Back to present*

Azami: Our relationship is different now, but we used to be close in the past. Thanks to Sakyo, I was able to pull myself together and regain my energy, even when I was in elementary school––.

That’s right. Actually I wanted to say thanks to you for this when we met last time.

Sakyo’s mother: These cards are…

Azami: When my dad banned me from playing the popular card game when I was in elementary school, Sakyo made these cards for me and played with me.

You’re the one who originally created this right?

Sakyo’s mother: That’s right… So that’s it… Sakyo gave them to you… 

Fufu. How nostalgic.

When I was making these cards while waiting for Sakyo to return home, I was disappointed with myself that I couldn’t buy him a popular toy. 

But that child looked really happy playing my handmade cards, and I was saved by that. It was hard to make a living back then, but thanks to his presence, I was able to overcome many hardships.

He has grown up now, but he’s still a little shy and cute, isn’t he.

Fufu. This is nostalgic. I wish I could hug that small child again… There’s no way he will let me hug him now.

Azami: Speaking of hugs… People seem to do wedding hugs these days.

The thing you do after taking the oath, t-that’s too shameless but… it’s okay if it’s just a hug right?

Sakyo’s mother: That’s right… Then maybe I wouldn’t feel embarrassed even in front of my children.

…But that child and Azami-kun are pretty similar. His father also passed away because of illness when he was little…

Azami: Perhaps Sakyo is doing his best to support my dad because he can’t show filial piety to his father anymore.

I’m also the same. I want to do something for you, and for the part I couldn’t do for my mom. It’s completely my own self-satisfaction though…

Here, it’s done.

Sakyo’s mother: It’s not your self-satisfaction. I’m pleased, too.

…I don’t look like myself. It’s like Cinderella’s magic, isn’t it.

It would be a waste if I don’t take photos when putting on this wonderful makeup and wearing this special dress that you guys prepared for me. 

If I don’t keep this as a commemoration, I may regret it for the rest of my life.

Azami: That means––.

Sakyo’s mother: I wonder if I can fit into this dress though.

Azami: It seems that it was made to be easy to adjust the waist and so on.

Sakyo’s mother: As expected of costume designer-san.

Azami: I’ll call someone to help you change costumes.

Sakyo’s mother: Ah, wait a minute––

Azami-kun, thank you for always taking care of that child.

Azami: ––No, as I told you earlier, it was me who has been taken care of for a long time…

Sakyo’s mother: Even this time too, I now understand Sakyo’s recent place to belong is–– I realize how important and precious the theater troupe and your house are to Sakyo.

He sometimes told me that he was looking after you when you were a kid… That child, he seemed to be having a lot of fun while complaining all the time, didn’t he.

Ever since he became your caretaker, the atmosphere around Sakyo has changed, he even became softer.

He worried about you so much that he couldn’t put his mind at ease as if he had a child of his own.

…That’s why you are like a grandchild to me.

From now on, please continue taking care of that child.

Azami: …Yeah.

Translator’s note:

(*) He was using the word “若い連中” here, which literally means young folks, and as far as I understand, this also refers to the young people who don’t have a certain rank in a yakuza group.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Previous || Next

#a3! translation #autumn troupe #akigumi #autumn troupe’s 10th play #my worst wedding #my worst wedding translation #act addict actors

[liviavanrouge]

Livia pulled her luggage, a smile on her face as Azul and Kalim walked over with their luggage as well, heading to her house for the summer with permission from their parents, then for the rest of the summer they’d be spending it at Kalims house then take a trip underwater to Azul’s hometown a week before school started back up. “Are you sure I don’t need to come,” Jamil asked frowning. “Yep, you don’t need to come Jamil, I have Livia and Azul!”Kalim beamed giving his friend a big grin. Jamil sighed and nodded, before taking his luggage and heading back to the Land of Scalding Sands. “Valley of Thorns!”Livia says to the mirror next. A bright light blinded them, the trio blinking a few times finding themselves in the Valley of Thorns. “Livia!”Thea waved beaming at her, holding Jubilee in her arms. “Big sis!”Meena beamed Copper waving excitedly beside her.

Livia hugged her mother, getting a kiss pressed to her forehead. “I’ll take your luggage you kids can get changed and roam around,” Thea smiled. Livia headed to her house, a cottage in the middle of the woods, laughing as Azul snatched Kalim out of her room, taking him to Silvers room so they could change. She walked out wearing a plain white shirt with a gray hoodie over the top, blue jean pants, and white sneakers. Azul and Kalim walked out all dressed, smiles on their faces. “Come on!”Livia grinned. The trio walked around the area, chatting away and joking about. “Hey!”Livia waved looking at a few retired soldiers not far. They waved back, giving her welcoming smiles. “What should we do first!”Kalim beamed. “We can go to the bakery!”Livia suggests. “My moms bakery,” Livia corrected when Azul glanced at her. “YEAH!”Kalim cheered running away.

Azul grabbed hold of Livias tail, nodding to her. Livia ran away, dragging Azul after her so he could keep up with them…since Azul wasn’t really physically great at running or any sort of exercise. Kalim reached the bakery first, Golden flinching in shock when the boy bursted into the building. “Oh Hey Kalim,” Golden greeted. He grabbed a basket of tarts, handing them to Kalim. Kalim ran outside, Livia and Azul grinning at the tarts. Azul grabbed a blueberry tart while Livia grabbed a lemon tart, Kalim immediately getting himself a coconut tart, the trio heading to find some place to chill. “So good!”Kalim sighed feeling as if he was gonna collapse from the delicious taste. Livia laughed, Azul smiling in amusement. “If you don’t mind Livia, I would love to place your mothers tarts on our menu back at the lounge, with the families permission of course,” Azul grinned.

“I’ll ask my Mom,” Livia nodded. “How come you want to sell them at the lounge?”Kalim asked curiously. Azul glanced away, blushing a little. “So I can eat them in private with you guys….”Azul says. Livia and Kalim cackled, Azul looking embarrassed. “But they’d also make a food profit, your mother is amazing,” Azul adds on quickly. “You don’t gotta hide it Zuzu, my mum will ship us a basket of tarts that we can all eat together,” Livia chuckled. “Even better!”Azul says fixing his glasses. “I’m glad we all met, who knew sending our two random pen pal letters would bring us together,” Livia grinned. “I was shocked when I found mines,” Azul laughed. “Same!”Kalim grinned. Livia smiled, looking a little embarrassed then giggled. “Hey, wanna head to our special spot?”Livia asked. Both boys nodded, the trio smiling softly at one another before heading to their old play area.

#twst oc #disney twst #diasomnia #twst kalim #twst azul #twst thea #twst jamil #livia vanrouge

[loorain]

Sims 4 Fontenot Legacy - Childhood Begins

The morning after the birthday party, the house is still in disarray. Scarlett wakes up first to start dealing with the mess, followed by the other adults and eventually the kids. The girls have another big day ahead of them, as it is their school orientation day. They're excited to meet other students and find out what elementary school is all about.

While the girls head off to school and Sigrid assists with the day's clean-up process, Robin borrows Sabrina's computer to finish up something he's been wanting to do for a long time.

As the family's youngest residents gain more independence but more costs, Robin decides it's finally time to get a more traditional job to support his family. After a few emails, he's able to secure a job at Dewey, Cheatem, & Howe! It's an entry-level job, but he's confident he has the skill set to work his way up the corporate ladder quickly.

It's not the only big thing happening today. Oh no, the family is having one more big event to celebrate the start of a new chapter in their lives.

The girls return from school with the neighbors' kid, courtesy of Audrey and her ever-friendly personality. However, there's also some additional guests at the house, unbeknownst to them.

Sigrid: Well look who it is! You have a good orientation day? See you've already invited a friend over.

Audrey: Mom, what's this? Why is there a carrier here?

Sigrid can't help but chuckle at the complete ignoring of her comment.

Sigrid: Oh, this old thing? Well, your dad and I thought it might be nice to invite someone over ourselves.

Audrey: What... do you mean-

Alma: A PUPPY!!!!!

Without another word, Alma is rushing to the puppy at the speed of light.

Alma: Hey there, little guy! I'm Alma! You and I are gonna be best friends!

Audrey: A puppy?! Really mom?!

Sigrid: Well your father and I thought it'd be nice for you to have a buddy to play with. You know, someone other than your sister when you two get on each other's nerves.

Audrey: This is the best day ever!

Sigrid: Now remember, caring for a puppy is a lot of responsibility. I need you both to help take care of things, okay?

Alma: We will! We'll go on walks, play with him, train him, everything! Promise!

Audrey: Yeah, what she said!

Sigrid: Okay, okay. Well, don't waste any more time talking to me. Go talk with your sister and decide on a name for him!

Robin has been quietly watching all of this unfold. As the girls greet and play with the puppy, he walks over to his wife.

Robin: Think we did good?

Sigrid: Pft, I think we just earned ourselves "Parents of the Century".

Robin: Ooh, I like the sound of that. Think they'll erect a statue of us in honor of this moment?

Sigrid: If they do, I hope they take some creative license and sculpt a few pounds off my waist.

Robin: Think they'd pump up my muscles a little bit? Oh, maybe a majestic beard would be nice too.

Sigrid: You going full Viking on me now?

Robin: Hey, I'd look good in a tunic! Hand me a sword and shield!

Alma interrupts the banter between the two and comes rushing over to her dad, giving him the biggest hug ever.

Alma: Thank you, thank you! You're the best!

Robin: Aww, you're very welcome, baby.

Sigrid: So have you two thought of a name for him yet?

Alma: I think so!

In the chaos of the new arrival, Audrey's buddy Jalisa gets pushed to the wayside. But, of course, Audrey never abandons her friends.

Audrey: Jalisa! We just got a new puppy! Alma and I decided to name him Ziggy!

Jalisa: So cool! I wish my parents let us get a puppy. Mom's allergic to their saliva, though. Says it gives her the "heebie-geebies".

Audrey: Well you can come over and play with Ziggy as much as you want!

Jalisa: So cool!

Audrey and her pal celebrate the day by spending some time in the treehouse! (Alma was there too, actually, but decided to play by herself in the enclosure. Typical Alma 😆)

All in all, the twins first full day of childhood was a success! A great orientation day, new friendships, and a belated birthday present so wonderful it'll leave a lasting impression on the entire family!

And of course, let's formally introduce the newest addition to the legacy house: Ziggy Lay!

#sims 4 fontenot legacy #sims 4 legacy challenge #sims 4 legacy #sims 4 modded #sims 4 #simblr #ts4 #ts4 simblr

[the-soft-saiyan-hybrid]

MEEBIES LORE!

(Has something to do with @ask-shelby-and-her-kitty-cats)

Meebies was born on November 19, right around when his older sister, Shelby, was like around 2. He was born, by luck, as a half Saiyan, half human for some unknown reason other than pure luck, making his own blood type unknown. Over time in his life, Meebies, with his time with Shelby, would gradually develop more and more talents, such as playing piano, singing and art. But those were more or less hobbies that Meebies would have, with Shelby on his side, ready to support whatever he was doing. Things for Meebies would change when him and Shelby's parents would take him to a martial arts dojo for recreation. They thought that Meebies learning martial arts would be "a fun thing that he could like." But apparently, it was way more than that. The more he went to the dojo, the more powerful he became. By the time Meebies was 3, he could already take down anyone in the dojo, even his own master, with a single blow. He has surpassed everyone's expectations and Meebies became so powerful, he was kicked out of the dojo. His parents couldn't understand that and kind of started to hold a grudge against him because of that. When Meebies started school at the same age, an unknown kid, whom Meebies has never asked for his name, but still became good pals anyway, would start to recognize his abilities and potential with his strong fighting strength. One day, he would come up to him and train him on something called, "Ki." Meebies, being the half Saiyan and half human he is, learnt ki in no time flat and could use it with ease. The problem was through, he didn't master ki yet and didn't know the responsibility of it or the power it possessed. The moment Meebies learnt ki, he would go on rampages around cities and towns without realizing it. He just was having fun destroying civilizations and countless lives without even noticing what he was doing. At the same time of learning ki, Meebies also was self-taught, with his ki, the ability to fly. This made it hard for the police to even catch the innocent, unknowing troublemaker, in some cases of his rampaging, having the government be sent to take care of him, only to no avail. At the age of 5, one day, Meebies wanted to show his ability of flight to his sister, his mom and dad. So he sent them to the front porch to check it out and there he went flying. The thing was, though, Meebies didn't master flying at the time, so...

He lost his way home without realizing it...

Meebies at that time was now public enemy number one worldwide. Many governments have been doing their best to try and stop him, only to fail. He was being attacked by the world. His whole time of using ki, he had a bounty of $10,000,000. He was a wanted criminal... On Shelby's side of things, her parents didn't even want to talk about Meebies to her and over time, even with the bounty getting higher with every civilization that he destroys, even his own sister forgot about him...

Meebies' innocent rampaging would end when he crashed into a small little village, where when the village folks wanted to attack him, a man stepped forward and proposed the idea of taking care of Meebies and teaching him responsibility with his powers. After all, he was only a child...

As the village took care of Meebies and he learned responsibility, the bounty just got lower and faded into obscurity. Meebies was no longer wanted. He was now a peaceful man. When Meebies was ready to go out into the world again, one day, while flying around the world, he set foot in a random woods somewhere. Out of the woods, was a small little neighborhood. Meebies peeked on one of the houses. There, was a report on "the incident" with Shelby and her family. Meebies at that point forgot who Shelby was and said the following...

"That jerk... That monster..! If I ever were to meet her, I'd punch some sense into that girl!"

He would say more things about her but that's as far as we'd want to go.

One day, while flying, Meebies finally realized who he was badmouthing on that day... It was his own sister... With the rage that he went through and his screaming in anger on saying kinds of stuff to his sister, something snapped in Meebies and then...

He became a Super Saiyan.

It was then he finally found the way back home from pure sheer anger and when he did, it was too late. He didn't know where his mother was and his father already hated him, yelling at him to get out of the house.

That's when Meebies developed his depression. He felt as though no one cared for him. He felt as though he couldn't go on. He felt like his sister was long gone... He felt like... It was all over... But with his optimistic personality, he still had the guts to keep going in life and see what it had to offer. Not even depression could stop him from trying to keep going...

Meebies, with the people he would meet during his travels, would start becoming more and more friendly and start having a desire to protect the Earth and stop things happening everywhere. That's when he decided to become a patroller. (Not a Time Patroller.) It's like being an officer without a license. He just did it for the sake of it. During that time, he would meet Master Roshi and Master Shen and would use their training to learn some techniques, such as the Kamehameha and the Dodon Ray.

One day, while patrolling a city, he heard a loud explosion from another city. The explosion came from East City, where two Saiyans named Vegeta and Nappa landed on Earth to fulfill their mission.

Meebies would lay low at first, detecting their power level as it would move somewhere. Meebies would still stay low during the Saiyan battle up until Piccolo's sacrifice. That's when things were serious to Meebies and he would step into battle. There, he found three dead and two still standing with Nappa about to crush a small person. That's when a certain someone would swoop in and save the kid. The person would call himself "Goku" and would take down Nappa with his "Kaio-Ken" or what he calls it, Meebies says. Meebies wouldnt take part in the Saiyan battle up until the battle with Goku and Vegeta. He would be of minimum amount of use by swooping out of nowhere and landing blows on Vegeta without Vegeta realizing it. He would also be of use when Vegeta turns Great Ape by trying to distract the ape and letting Goku charge up for his Spirit Bomb. He survived the battle with many bruises and battle damage and was hospitalized shortly after the battle. During the battle, Meebies would get to know a little bit more about Goku and his friends and him and them soon after the battle would become sort of friends but more or less companions.

During hospitalization, Meebies randomly passed out out of nowhere, with others thinking he was presumably dead. Actually, Meebies, yes, was in Other World, but he would take the chance of flying down Snake Way to meet King Kai. There, he met him, Yamcha, Tien, Chiaotzu and Piccolo and would learn techniques from all of them before regaining consciousness, such as the Spirit Bomb, the Sukiden and the Dodonpa and strangely enough, Double Sundae, all thanks to an encounter with Raditz while flying through Snake Way.

By the time he regained consciousness, Vegeta was just about to kill Dodoria. Meebies wouldn't go to Namek but he could mentally sense the battles going on on Namek. From that, strangely, he learnt a few new techniques that Meebies would practice on when he was fully healed, such as the Break Cannon, the Ultra Fighting Miracle Bomber and the Crusher Ball.

Meebies would also not really take part during the time period with the Androids and Cell and the time period with Majin Buu. He would participate in the Cell Games, fairly holding his own against Cell but was overpowered by Cell anyway, and during the Majin Buu time period, where he would survive Super Buu's Human Extinction attack, but would later be knocked out by Super Buu during the fight with Ultimate Gohan, interrupting the battle along with Tien but then killed when Kid Buu destroys the Earth.

Since the battle with Majin Buu, Meebies has been going through his normal life once again, patrolling civilizations around the world and making friends with people he meets. He's also got a cat named Gilbert that keeps him company ever since he was 13. Together, they just watch their favorite TV shows and anime after Meebies is done with his patrolling. So as of right now, nothing is really happening with Meebies' life... Maybe something... Something might happen during his travels...

#meebies #lore #wow thats so much lore #mod speaks #meebies lore

[emeriethevalkyriegirl]

Nesta Archeron (Harry Potter AU)- Chapter 21 (Christmas)

Summary: It’s been over a month and now all of the students are heading home including Emerie. But Emerie’s journey home starts off rocker than she expected.

December 14, 2001

Christmas has arrived at Hogwarts and everyone was excited. The kids were able to go home for the break and visit their families. Everyone was busy catching the train, their luggage in tow. The ghosts around the school were singing Christmas carols while the students that weren’t going home this year rested in the Great Hall.

Emerie, luggage behind her, headed towards the Great Hall to say goodbye to her friends. Nesta was with Nora, Bryce, and the Bedara twins. The Hufflepuff twins were in the middle of a chess game while the Slytherins watched as the match unfolded. “Knight to E5.” Catrin said as she smirked at her sister who chuckled. “You never choose your horses Catrin. Queen to E5.” Gwyn gleefully cheered as her red queen moved on its own and knocked away the knight using her chair.

The Slytherins cheered for Gwyn as Catrin and Emerie looked at her dumbfound. “That’s totally barbaric.” she exclaimed as everyone laughed. “It’s a wizard’s chess.”

“All done packing Emerie?”

“Yep. Train leaves in 20 minutes. Aren’t you gonna pack?” Emerie asked as the twins shook their heads. “Nope.”

“Our mom got caught up with the Night Court. She’s gonna send our Christmas presents on the 20th.” Catrin explained as Nora and Bryce continued for her. “My mom says that I need to spend time with my brother Ruhn. He’s in the Gryffindor house with his girlfriend Lidia.”

“I’m here because I didn’t want Nesta to be alone.” Nora said as Nesta blushed. Right, Nesta didn’t like her muggle family. Emerie looked smudged to hide the disappointment on her face. “I see. Well then, I guess this means that you all can help Nesta with her research on Tarquin the Third.”

Nesta told her Slytherin pals about their encounter with Eris as long as they promise not to tell anyone else. The young Slytherins agreed to help them with their search on Tarquin’s grand father. Unfortunately, they all came up fruitless. They searched in the library for hours. Even during their study hours. Not a single book talked or even mentioned Tarquin the Third.

Everyone groaned. “Come on Em, give us a break. It’s Christmas.”

“We looked a hundred times.” Bryce complained as Emerie smirked. She looked over her shoulder to see if anyone was listening and whispered, “Not in the restricted section.” Everyone’s expression turned cold and wide. The restricted books were locked up for a reason. Even Emerie didn’t dare venture there. But, the girls were desperate. Who wouldn’t be?

Flipping her hair back, Emerie replied, “Happy Christmas.” and turned her hell to the entrance to the Great Hall.

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

As Emerie sat on the train, she thought about her previous memories while watching the last of the students walk out of Hogwarts. The students were going to return in January, however, Emerie wasn’t too happy about staying away from her friends for too long. Normally, she would be excited to see her family for the break. And to read her books. But after her...accident, she haven’t been in contact with her family so much.

When the train whistled, it creeped up slowly and began its journey to the muggle world. Emerie placed her luggage next to her and pulled out one of the magic books she was going to read. She didn’t make it through the first page of the book when she felt someone sitting next to her. Emerie looked up from her book and saw Morrigan smirking down at her like a Cheshire cat. Emerie also took note of three other Gryffindors as well. Lucien Vansarra, Maeve Graymark, and Armen Longjaw.

Emerie groaned. “What do you guys want?” Emerie asked, completely annoyed by the Gryffindors.

Morrigan rolled her eyes. “Oh nothing. You’re just sitting in our usual spot. That’s all.” Emerie sighed, slamming her book shut. “Fine, then I’ll move.”

“Not so fast.” Armen said smirking like Mor as she gripped Emerie’s shoulder and pulled her closer to her. Emerie winced. “What the bloody hell are you doing?!” she asked as Armen very lightly traced her finger down her wing. Touching an Illyrian's wings was considered a very inappropriate gesture. So inappropriate that if anyone dared to touch the wings, the groper would lose that hand completely. No exceptions.

Armen poked at the Illyrian's sharp edges on her devil wings. “You poor thing. It must be a shame to have been born with such a huge disappointment.”

“Stop it!” Emerie cried, blushing red all over with embarrassment.

Maeve, who was sitting across from them giggling her ivy make up matching the Christmas theme glow of the train. “Aw, she’s scared. Maybe, we should give her something to eat. Right Luci?” Lucien went into his bag and grabbed a handful of worms. Emerie looked outrageously disgusted. “What’re you doing with those?”

“Giving you a snack. It always cheers me up.” Lucien evilly smiles shoving the worms in Emerie’s mouth.

Emerie choked on the worms, desperately trying to get the worms out of her mouth. She heard the Gryffindor’s laughing as she barfed up every single worm Lucien shoved in her mouth. Falling to the floor Emerie cough up more worm chunks and clenched her stomach. “Aw, she’s crying.”

“Maybe we forgot to spice the worms. Armen ‘innocently’ remarked as the kids laughed at her pain.

The teasing and bickering was interrupted by a shout. Emerie noticed that Lucien, Maeve, and Armen ran to the next train cart. Only Morrigan remained. “Hey, come back. Why’re you guys running?”

“Probably because I’m behind you.”

There he was. The Ravenclaw Perfect. Azriel Shadowsinger. Emerie knew him the first day of Hogwarts. Though, she was told to stay away from him due to her Ravenclaw peers. According to them, Azriel was a demon child. They heard stories of him possessing a Gryffindor student, making them steal books from the restricted section of the library. No one knew why, but some say that he would practice dark magic in the far side of the library.

Mor froze, refusing to turn around to face the scolding 3rd year. Emerie didn’t blame her, he looked very livid. “Mor, why the hell are my shadows saying that they saw you and your crew tormenting a student?” he asked rather calmly, but Emerie knew he was angry. And so did Mor.

“Turn around.” he requested. No, ordered. Morrigan hesitated before slowly turning her gaze to Azriel. Emerie could hear the shiver in her voice. “A-A-Azriel. W-Wha-”

“I’m gonna give you 5 seconds to run back to your original spot.”

“O-Or w-what?” Mor stuttered. She tried to have more venom in her voice but it only came out as a whimper. Emerie would’ve laughed if it weren’t for the sharp pain in her stomach.

Azriel’s shadows floated around Mor, trapping she and Azriel into a dark circle. Almost immediately, the circle disintegrated and Mor was left pale and terrified. Emerie also noticed a trail of piss running down her legs. After a moment, Morrigan turned and ran down the train cart, swiftly avoiding the fallen Ravenclaw. Emerie may have imagined it, but she could’ve sworn she saw tears running down Mor’s eyes.

Azriel walked over to Emerie bending down to check on her. “Are you okay?” he asked, his threatening voice vanishing into thin air. Emerie tried to stand up but couldn’t so Azriel picked her up and placed her back on the booth she was in before. Immediately after she sat up, she puked up all of the remaining digested worms that she accidentally swallowed.

Soothing her back (careful to avoid her wings), Azriel softly whispered, “It’s okay. Let it all out.” Emerie sucked in a breath of air, her wings spreading apart like a graceful swan. She leaned her head on the cushion of the booth. “Do Illryians eat worms?” she asked before drifting off to sleep.

#emerie #nesta #gwyn #catrin #OC nora #bryce #azriel #morrigan #lucien #maeve #armenta #Nesta Archeron (Harry Potter AU)

[cybermoonmoon]

“...life and times”

*(Wrote this over 20 years ago.)

It was the early 1960's, and "Morning in America!" Jackie Kennedy was "jazzing up" da White House and trying to give us a little class fer Christ's sakes. Dr. King, and brave others was out there risking their lives for the soul of the nation. Because of that white folk's was finally starting to feel a little ashamed of all them lynchings 'n stuff they let pass.

We was putting up da first satellites, and planning to go to da Moon! For those of you who wasn't there I got' a tell ya this country was hot shit in them daze! Imagine...our folks had good jobs, gas was cheap, we had TV, and was watching till them radioactive came home! Eh...we sort of set A-Bombs off a lot.

The schools worked, da trash was collected, Santa came every Christmas, we had flesh-colored Band-Aids...only pink but it was a start. That and any work'n Joe could buy a house. Shit! We had big plies of H-fucking Bombs and zillions of new B-52' to deliver them! So nobody dared give us crap. Not only that, but polio was licked, and comic books was 10 cents.

Hey! Was that a "Golden Age" or what?!! Well, in da middle of all that bright and happy noise I decided I wanted to be a Boy Scout! 'Made sense given da times. I wanted to serve my country...over easy with fries. It was "Camelot" big time back then, and I wanted to do my bit for "Kennedy and Country!" Also in my pubescent mind I figured da scouts was just da place for "Colored Sissy" kid, with Anarchist tendencies. I figured getting in would be no problem. After all I was real smart cute, sweet, and polite as hell! I also had the da frigging "Pope", my Mommy, and Robert Kennedy's Justice Department on my side. How could I lose? I had visions of wearing one of them "Smokey da Bear" hats that scouts gets ta have. Boy those things is neat! Better than cowboy hats any day. Anyway, I was dreaming of that, and all them badges, ribbons, medals', assorted bright and cheerful doodads they heap on ya in da scouts for being a good kid. 'Course then there was da official "Boy Scouts of America!" hatchet, canteen, compass, handbook, and surplus national guard folding mini shovel dancing like sugar plumbs over my innocent, and curly head! Eh...to say nothing about them cute scout short pants and knee sox. Well, okay that was a later fetish, but still ya gets the idea. Let me tell you of my innocent boyish scouting visions... I saw me, and my new scout pals out in da wilds tracking hunting mountain lions, digging up Spanish gold! building tree houses, sighting UFO's. We'd be capturing Atomic Spies, rescuing kat's, exploring unknown caves, and make'n friends with da Indians. We'd be tying all sorts of knots, painting ourselves up like Sioux Warriors, eating wild berries shitting in da woods, wiping our butts with leaves. We'd run on all fours like wolves, and howl at da moon! To relax we'd go nekkid skinny dipping, have kissing contests, and build model airplanes! At night under da stars we'd sing doo-wop songs, cook foot long kosher hot dawgs over a roaring campfire, and tell scary stories about robots from Neptune attacking Pittsburg. At bedtime we'd open up surplus air force parachutes use them as our communal tents. We'd all say our prayers, kiss each other good night, cuddle up like puppies, and slip into the gentle arms of Elysium. Perhaps some few might stay awake to chase fireflies or recite poetry to each other. Oh, such a sweet and innocent vision. Unfortunately, 'none' of this swell shit went down. What did happen was... My Mom: "What did you say?!" Scoutmaster: "Eh...I'm sorry but it's just policy". "There's nothing I can do about it. This troop doesn't admit Coloreds." My Mom: "But this school which is integrated. The troop is part of this school." Scoutmaster: "Technically yes, but the board has the final say in these matters. As I said I'm sorry we can't admit your son into our program." My Mom was gonna slug this jerk, but didn't because he seemed, (to her at least), ashamed of having to do this foul shit to someone. I'd have slugged him anyway, and maybe burned the school down too. Anyhow the 'I'm just following orders' cog went on to tell my Ma of another troop that was willing to take 'some' Negros. ...Swell. That bunch was a long bus ride away so thanks, but no thanks said my Ma. Boy! ...All that evil crap going down just 'cause I wanted to wear a "Smokey da Bear" hat. Nice world we got here...swell. Thing is I didn't hear about any of this for years. My Mom did what all folks do. They protected their kids from evil as long as they can. She told me this fuzzy story about there being no room that season. 'Made sense. Remember it was the height of da "Baby Boom" era. There was zillions of us kids all over da place. Hell, we was "Climbing in through da windows"...to quote Holden Caufield. So yeah, I bought it. Next year I asked again...same story. The year after that I didn't ask...didn't wanna be a scout anymore anyway. Had other problems...like slamming headfirst into my teen years. A nightmare of burning dumpsters on greased skates full of deep shit and crushed desires. Well, the seasons passed, and with one thing, and another I found myself a young man. Eh, perhaps I should put that another way. Never mind, look it was 1976 the Bi-Centennial year. We'd just lost the Viet-Nam War, there were mile long lines for petrol, the economy was in the toilet, Ford Pinto's were spontaneously combusting on our highways, we'd stopped going to the moon, or anywhere else for that matter. People thought platform shoes were cool, and the first rumblings of the Drug Wars were being heard. Yeah, da 70's... swell. 70's or not ya only gets one "Bi-Centennial" to a country, so we celebrated. I had gone home to visit my folks...I was living out west back then. I was sitting in the front room of da old family place watching the parades, and mayhem with my Ma. We finally got a color TV. Dad didn't want to get one. He thought they caught fire. A common notion back then. Anyway, there was guys dressed in civil war uniforms re-enacting hell on earth. After a bunch of beer commercials six-gun tote'n cowboys showed up and shot at each other for a while. Then some white guys dressed as Indians did some sort of phony Native dance. Then a float with astronauts on the moon we no longer went to. Next some old guy's weary fez caps driving "Model T's" chugged by. This was followed by high school "ROTC" drill teams goose stepped down 5th avenue. They flipped their M-1 carbines all over da place. A bunch'a folks dressed like pilgrims drinking Cokes on a flatbed pulled by oxen. All this followed by some poor slobs in hot dog suits shoveling up after them. Yep that's "America" alright...recognize her anywhere. After a while on comes the Boy Scouts, hundreds of 'em! Aw gee, they was wearing their "Smokey da Bear" hats too! Wow da boys was having a great time marching and horsing around with each other. I mentions to my mother that it was too bad about all that "overcrowding" when I was a kid. I told her that I really, really wanted to be a scout back then. My Mommy gets quiet, she looks at me, and tells me da whole story..., all of it. Like I said, parents, the good ones protect their kids. Protects their Innocence as long as they can. Let kids enjoy their Innocence. But when the demons finally approach your walls of love. Make them ready. Teach them to face the fire and survive. Amen.

(Btw... I still want one of them "Smokey the Bear" hats...I really do.)

[loveaffaire]

Listen to me… dad’s friend!Bucky + reader

Bonus points if Steve is the father of the reader jensjsks

Almost Caught

Pairing: Dad’s bestfriend!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings/tags: mentions of sex, making out, slight hair pulling, pet names (doll), age gap (reader is 21 and Bucky is… 106), Steve cameo<3, reader calls Steve ‘daddy’ but in a normal father way, obviously🧍🏻‍♀️& credits to The Amazing Spider-Man for the cocoa scene (so TASM spoilers? lol)— 18+ (MINORS DNI)

Word Count: 1.3k

A/N: y’all wild, Steve is gonna beat the shit out of his old pal, Buck, if he ever found out🤠

🤍Written for my 1k sleepover🤍

You were laying on your bed and scrolling through social media when you heard your window glass sliding up, your head shot up and there he was, Bucky.

“Fuck” Bucky whispered, almost breaking the vase on your study table as he practically crawled through your window and fell on the hard floor of your room.

You giggled, eyes quickly checking for the lock on your door and making sure it was locked.

“Bucky!” You gushed, getting off the bed and walking to where Bucky was still sitting on the floor, brushing his jeans off.

“You need to tell Steve that you need a bigger, wider window” he said, slightly pouting.

“And tell him what?” You rolled your eyes, “Dad, your best friend sneaks into my room every night and it’s tough for him to get through my small window, can we please get a wider window?”

He smiled, any sign of distress leaving his face when his eyes landed on your face, “shut up”

He stood up, his 6'0" figure hovering over you as he looked down at you with a glint in his blue eyes, “come here, give me a kiss”

You instantly stood on your tiptoes to reach his lips, your lips softly pressed to his as he pulled your body closer.

You were 13 years old when you were sent to a boarding school far away from school, your parents, Steve and Natasha were too busy being Captain America and Black Widow for the country to keep you around. You were safer in the boarding school, anyway.

When you returned 5 years later, now 18 years old, you only saw Bucky once on a weekend for an Avengers get-together and then you were off to college. Three years there and then you were back home, taking a gap year for various internship opportunities.

That’s when you bumped into Bucky. Even though he's been staying in the Avengers’ compound for years, he only ever hung out with your parents or Sam or spent most of his time reading. So when you had found him in the library one day, a conversation was sparked up and since then, you were inseparable.

He was always around you, you were always around him and one day, when he got you alone in the middle of the large bookshelves in the library, he had kissed you and you happily kissed him back.

The guilt ate away at Bucky for a good few weeks, the thought of doing this to Steve made Bucky feel disgusted with himself, but every time his eyes landed on you, he couldn’t help feeling like a lovesick little boy.

So here you stood, in your bedroom, 3 months later with Bucky holding you against him with his lips on yours. It was wrong but it just didn’t feel like it, sure you had to hide from everyone but that’s what made it even more exciting.

The innocent kiss turned into something a bit more steamy as he roughly pulled you up, easily picking you up by the back of your thighs and placing you on your study table. The second he pushed between your legs with a little force, a whimper left your mouth and just then, there was a knock on your door.

“Y/N?”

You froze when you heard your father’s voice, gripping Bucky’s henley in your hands with wide eyes but as soon as you came to your senses, you quickly pushed on his shoulders and reached for the door and Bucky quickly duked down behind the loveseat.

“Honey, do you want some cocoa, mom’s making some cocoa!”

You opened the door, just enough to stick your head out. Your breath was shaky, chest heaving up and down, “no, dad, I do not want cocoa, honestly I’m 21 years old”

You father looked at you confused but the frown on his face turned into a smirk as he said, “okay, I just thought I remember somebody saying last week that her fantasy was to live in a chocolate house”

You heard a soft snicker from inside your room and your eyebrows shot up, “well, that’s impractical” you shut the door but opened it again, “and fattening,” you shut the door again.

You turned back and saw Bucky with his chin resting on the top of the loveseat, “chocolate house?” he joked, tilting his head to the side.

You rolled your eyes as you opened the door and saw your father standing there with a frown on his face once again, “sorry dad”

“It’s okay I—”

“I can’t have um cocoa right now, I’m- I’m working, I’m doing this, I’m- I have cramps!”

“Oh”

“Yes, I feel pukey and emotional, I’ve been crying—”

“Alright that’s—”

“It’s gross, I can’t have cocoa,” you gulped.

“Good good” your father shook his head, looking at the wall behind you.

“It’s brutal, you don’t wanna know” you whispered, making a gagging expression.

“Got it, that’s- I got it” your father nodded, turning around, he threw a thumbs up in the air.

“Thanks, daddy” you yelled out, shutting your door and locking it.

You rested your forehead on the door and sighed. Bucky sneaked up behind you and softly grabbed you by the waist, he kissed your exposed skin on your shoulder, his lips were warm on your skin.

“He could have caught you,” you whispered, moving away from him.

Bucky grasped your wrist, pulling you back to him and you stumbled back on his hard chest, “but he didn’t”

He leaned in, attaching his lips to yours, he softly tugged on your hair and you whimpered. As your lips fell open, he was quick to sneak his tongue inside your mouth and you moaned against his lips.

“Bucky, wait” you pulled away, shaking your head at him, “you should leave because what if dad becomes like- I don’t know- suspicious”

“But I don’t want to leave” Bucky whined like a little kid as he tugged on the hem of your tank top.

“He’ll kill you if he finds you here” you rolled your eyes at him, falling back on the bed.

“Did you know back in our days, Steve opposed 117 nations to protect me?” Bucky smirked, “he’s not gonna hurt me”

He crawled on top of you, resting his hands on either side of your shoulders. You’ve heard about the incident that broke up the Avengers a million times, Tony and your dad never stopped joking about it at the get-togethers.

“Well, back in your days, you weren’t fucking his daughter” you smirked, your eyes squinting at him.

“I haven’t fucked you” he whispered, “yet”

“It’s only been 3 months, I’ll make you wait a little more” you said, your voice smug.

“Well, I’ve still been to places… your places” he said, his voice low and filled with lust, “do you remember that time I tasted you? My pretty doll tasted so good for me—”

You pulled yourself up on your elbows, pecking his lips and shushing him. Not wanting him to see you so flushed, you rolled over with him under you now and your lips landed on his neck, you were quick to leave a pretty lovebite on him.

As you continued your work on his neck, with his head thrown back and soft moans falling out of his lips, you felt his bulge pressing between your thighs. He gripped your hips and lifted himself off the bed, desperately trying to feel you against him.

“Okay” you huffed and sat on his lap, you teased him by pushing a little harder on his bulge, “that’s enough waiting”

He quickly nodded, “3 months is a lot of waiting, yeah” his voice was shaky, neck red from the heat creeping up to his face.

“You wanna fuck me?” you whispered, nudging your face closer to his as he sat up with you still on his lap.

“So badly, doll” he said, resting his hands on your waist.

“Get to it then” you softly giggled, getting off his lap and crawling up on the bed.

You rested your back against the headboard and you removed your cotton shorts, spreading your legs wide open for Bucky to see the dampened spot on your underwear. As he looked at your face twisting in pleasure when you softly brushed your fingers over your clothed cunt, he was sure he was going to devour you tonight. He was going to absolutely wreck you.

I had to leave it at that, whatever happened after that was wild and they broke the bed so yeah🤠

#loveaffaire’s 1k sleepover #bucky barnes #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes headcanon #bucky barnes blurb #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes imagines #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fic #james buchanan barnes #james bucky barnes #sebastian stan #sebastian stan one shot #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan smut #sebastian stan imagines

[kaypeace21]

"Rebel robin" easterggs

- Robin's friend is a horror movie fan whos fav movie is evil dead (jonathan has a poster of it in his room)

- Robin's parent's car is the " dodge dart" a ref to Dustin's demodog-dart

-robin and her friends make analogies to zombies (like Will- the zombie boy).

- robin faints. And her friend milton says "blink once for yes twice for no". A ref to what Joyce said to Will in s1.

- robin's other friend has a little sister named el-ie who pretends to be a squirrel. A ref to el killing a squirrel in s2. This is also reminiscent of a scene from the st prequel novel ' suspicious minds' where young-kali pretended to be a tiger (the Hawkins school mascot) & a rabbit (Jonathan's hunting story).

- robin reminds me alot of the byers: she is into photography and rock like jonathan and even worked at the movie theatre like jonathan did in the og pilot. They both like David bowie and cook for their families. She also is poor and wears hand-me down clothes from relatives (like Will). She also is into existential philosophers. Which is also similar to jonathan who had a poster of the poet rimbaud in his room.

- robin is almost run over by a car by a bully while riding her bike: similar to Mike, Dustin, and Lucas in s2

- robin says the best accessory for a girl is her middle finger. Cue max giving the middle finger to billy in s2 XD

- robin (before Will dissapears) sees the quarry and gets uncomfortable and thinks of metaphorical monsters

- similar to how billy had baseball references (along with Will). Robin wears a baseball shirt

- her fav flavor of pie is cherry (like alexi and cherry slurpies). She also gets pissed at a guy sipping a cherry flavored drink- similar to hopper in s3 with alexi

- she cuts her hair and she describes it as looking like a lion. El and Will owned lion plushies in s1.

- robin refs Chicago (kali lives there) and NYC (hopper used to live there), and California (where max and billy used to live).

-tammy's fav song is total eclipse of the heart: the song Robin and Steve sang in s3. Tammy would often sing the song in robin and Steve's class.

- they make references to the hellfire club: she describes a time where she dresses like a cross between a nerd and a rebel. And a mom yells at her appearance saying she looks "goddless' . And another of Robin's friend (kate) is told ' what demon is possessing you, kate?" (hinting at the satanic panic). Meanwhile someone describes Mike and his friends as "hellions' as another hint to this. We also see how alot of parents got paranoid and a bit crazy when Will and barb dissappeared- prob foreshadowing the chaos that will happen if more kids dissappear in s4. Along with the satanic panic

-Robin is visiting her friend Kate at her house. Kate wanted to listen to Madonna together. Max and el listened to Madonna at el's.

- Robin's friend (kate) says "I dumped his ass" in reference to her cheating bf. A little nod to the m*leven breakup

- robin (like Will) felt excluded during the summer cause her friends kate and dash (Kate's now ex bf) were always making out . Sound familiar- cough m*leven

- robin annoyed says " makeouts, breakups and declarations of love all in the span of a week". Wow if that ain't a diss to certain pairing we know in s3 XD

- kate (like mike) says to Robin dating the opposite sex is a part of growing up . Which scares Robin (and Will in s3).

- robin has a nightmare of running down the school hallway with short hair (like el in s2 via the upsidedown)

- robin contemplates shaving her head (like el)

- robin says she likes to sometimes dress androgynous . And found a cool suit. Which we saw in s4 bts pics I assume.

- robin watches a music video where there are duplicate indianna joneses (could be a ref to all the billy duplicates in s3?)

- robin says " I stare at the ceiling. The ceiling stares back. I'm stuck and don't know what to do" a ref to the s3 song with robin called "the ceiling is beautiful"

- a character named Sheena reminds me a bit of Will or el . She is very quiet, queercoded, and is often bullied. And she finds mean notes and other things in her locker- placed there by bullies. A bit like how Will found the zombieboy note in his locker. But sheena can be another name for Jane so ...maybe foreshadowing of el/jane being bullied in highscool?

- when robin hears a hom*phobic comment on tv- she describes the anxiety like a ' thundercloud in a big open sky' and a "chill". Which reminds me of the mf being associated with clouds, thunder, and lightning. And the mf liking it cold.

- robin constantly describes the monster or shadow in her life- whether it be her talking about conformity or the problems of consumerism while she is poor (themes of s3).

- robin before realizing she was gay/crushing on tammy just says " I don't get crushes' which reminds me a bit of Will saying " I'm not going to fall in love" (as the lyrics are " love thats new to you, you open up the door')

-robin on her bike hears something (demogorgan) and runs back to her house , locks the door, and calls her friend- and the phone gets electrocuted. The next day Will is said to be missing. (Another Will paralllel).

- i was right about robin being in theatre. So we most likely will see robin in theatre in s4 (she also auditioned with a friend in the book). So for s4 my guess is she may be in the drama club with dustin- cause in s1 he had a drama shirt

- one of her friends is named milton. Since the documentary 'paradise lost' was on the s4 movie list. Its prob a ref to John milton who wrote the fictional 'paradise lost'. The character Sheena may be a ref to the 80s film/movies *where sheena (jane) was psychic

-Robin's gal pal (kate) and Robin eat m&ms and candies together. Kate jokes m&ms and candy bars are 'foods of the gods'. El ate m&ms in s3. They joke how talking about plural gods (instead of 1) would get them in trouble. In case you are unaware- kali (is the name of a Hindu goddess) and el (is the name of a cannanite god) .

-Robin also mentions hopper's car smells like eggos.

- robin tries running away (like el in s2, max in her novel, and jonathan also wrongfully assumed Will ranaway in s1 too).

-robin tries to get a job at Joyce's, than Bob's, and later gets a job where jonathan used to work

-bob newby describes the byers family as his "home" . Similar to how El describes the Hawkins gang as "home".

- robin says she was friends with barb before nancy. Suspiciously right after she says this- barb grabs Robin's hallpass that says ' glitch in the time space continuim. " the teacher who wrote this called robin a "glitch". Which makes me wonder if my did theory is right- but ...that certain powers at be may also alter memories or things so people assume said people have always been around.Mentioning it cause it seemed suspicious.

-not an eastegg but robin can't believe how nice Bob is. And Bob says the byers filled a hole in his life 😭 . She also felt an instant connection with Will and saw alot of herself in him.And asked if Joyce ever thought of moving like everyone suggested . One of the reasons Robin didn't like steve was because Steve never mentioned how Jonathan took innapropriate photos of Nancy. So everyone at school just knew jonathan as the quiet kid who takes pictures. So to everyone it just seemed like- wow you're bullying the quiet kid who's brother is missing and take away the one thing still left in his life that makes him happy. Which is why everyone assumes jonathan beat up steve later. Interesting to know how general Hawkins (not in the loop) viewed things

- the book referenced alot of previously mentioned movies on the s4 list or from prior duffer interviews...along with a few NEW movies ,books, plays, singers, and songs that I have to analyze for another day ...

#robin buckley #rebel robin #jonathan byers #steve harrington #will byers #el hopper #mike wheeler #dustin henderson #barbara holland #max mayfield #jim hopper

[tezzbot]

applejack headcanons in a sort of timeline i have in my head based on the flashbacks/statements in the show lol this is gonna get long i apologise

aj is born in the sweet apple acres barn to bright mac and pear butter :D

we get the apple family reunion episode flashback where she is lichrally baby asking for apple fritters 🥺

she grows up a bit, just by family gene pool luck shes a strong little fucker and as she grows her family realises she's not just physically strong but strong willed too, it becomes a running joke that shes secretly part mule with how stubborn she can be :P

bright mac had a dog from when he was younger that he loved with all his heart, big mac loved him too but applejack thought was a grumpy old lump of a beast she just Did Not Like This Animal you know how kids can be lmaooo

applejack and big mac dont really leave the farm all that much, theyre homeschooled by their parents and granny smith so, generally they dont have that many friends their age in their childhood, they say hi and play a bit with fillies and colts they pass while helping out with deliveries, aj and rarity possibly have a few interactions through this but nothing really sticks at this point, they know each others names and thats probably it, the apple siblings are a big hit with usual customer and ponies who sell them things in the market

pear butter teaches aj how to play the guitar and she practices until her hooves hurt, her ma is very proud of her, they like to play duets when they have some alone time :] then, deciding to branch out from that applejack also picks up other instruments like the banjo and the fiddle, they find out she has quite a knack for music! (applejack is only slightly disappointed she doesnt get her cutie mark from it, but unlike applebloom would be in the future, she doesnt mind all that much, after all granny smith always said it'd come with time 😌)

not long after little applebloom is born we get the great seedling episode flashback which is a turning point in applejack, a moment like finding out santa or the tooth fairy isnt real, she matures a little bit that day, gains more of the work ethic we see in her as an adult

around this time is when bright mac and pear butter die :( i dont have a concrete headcanon on How they die but the dangerous trade routes the apples have to take to make deliveries may have had something to do with it, or maybe they were trying to protect the farm from something coming from the everfree forest, im not sure

the rest of the apple family make their way to sweet apple acres to give their condolences and help out in any way they can around the farm while our apples grieve :( its sad but it brings aj and big mac closer than they'd ever been

after shes recovered a little from that, i think aj kind of loses herself, i mean how can you not after losing both parents :(( so she decides to leave the farm in the hopes she'll be able to find herself again in manehattan, this is the cutie mark chronicles flashback and where she realises she belongs in ponyville, Runs home and gets her cutiemark

after a little bit, to help her become a little bit more social with foals her age, applejack goes to camp friendship where she meets little coloratura and the two Immediately click, aj gives her new best friend the nickname rara and they're practically inseparable the whole summer, their friendship starts to grow into something more but rara is heading back to manehatten after camp and applejack belongs back in ponyville, so they decide to give a lonb distance relationship a try, they manage to exchange letters back and forth for a long time, ultimately deciding a long distance relationship wasnt gonna work so they mutually decide to break up but still stay pen pals! after a while, the letters stop and they become just a memory in one anothers minds

sweet apple acres eventually returns to a business as usual state, with groups of relatives stopping by the farm now and again to give a helping hoof considering its now run by a late-middle aged lady, two children and a baby lol, applejack, while still doing a lot of tree bucking, is starting to take on a more maternal figure role in applebloom's life as well as being her sister, her and big mac feels more responsible and protective of the foal since she would be growing up with no ma and pa, they sort of took on those roles, applejack more intensely i guess i just see her as having strong maternal instincts embedded in her or something lol, but she for sure isnt "single mom"ing it, with granny smith and other relatives ready to take the little bugger when aj needs to get stuff done :P it takes a village and all that lmao

since at this time aj and big mac are starting to go into town more often and are free to do as they please as long as their chores get done, they start actually interacting more with teens their age in ponyville! applejack starts hanging out with fillies like rarity who she had known in passing but now could finally get to know and the cake's new apprentice and ponyvilles youngest party planner, pinkie pie

after starting to hit some awkward growth spurts as she reaches her teens lol, she starts taking an interest in the business side of the farmwork too, dealings with customers, looking into trade routes stuff like that, this is when the where the apple lies flashback takes place i fuckin love that episode please watch it, and this starts applejack's lifelong promise to never lie ever again which she keeps bc shes a legend as fuck <3

one day aj notices cloudsdale passing through probably to start preparing ponyville for the next season, and she hears a Thud coming from a row or two over from where she's working, she goes over to investigate to find a pegasus filly shaking off what aj can only assume was a crash, she asks if shes alright, n the filly is like of course i am im so tough toughest around actually thanks<3 and aj is internally like hm. this kids kinda annoying. they introduce themselves and applejack finds out rainbow dash is looking for her friend fluttershy, she likes to come down from cloudsdale to play with animals or something, but applejack hasnt seen any yellow pegasi fillies around so the little blue filly says thanks anyway and zips off at what aj can only describe as probably the speed of light, she somehow has a strange feeling this isnt gonna be the last she sees of this kid

she turns out to be right when shes invited to a happy visit to ponyville from cloudsdale party thrown for rainbow and fluttershy, apparently rainbow had bumped into pinkie while asking around ponyville for any idea where fluttershy and of course pinkie Had to make an event out of it once she had helped rainbow find her friend, the party was of course a lot of fun rainbow and aj somehow managed to turn every party game into a competition and despite their first impressions of one another they actually got along really well and gained a good amount of respect for each other, aj eventually found fluttershy sort of hiding away from most of the party and fluttershy actually opened up a little after talking with aj bc of how calming her presence was for her

over the next few years the five got to know each other quite well, anytime cloudsdale passed by rainbow and fluttershy would drop into ponyville to hang out or just say hi, and once they were old enough they moved into their ponyville houses and the five of them became just a regular friend group youd see hanging out on the streets of ponyville, fluttershy helps aj pick out a border collie puppy for help with wrangling critters on the farm (applebloom was getting too old to be sent off to mindlessly run after little animals all the time and she had started going to school so she wasnt around as much lmaoo) and just as a companion for applejack, she names her Winona :]

and then after those few years Twilight shows up! you know the rest from there :P

if i missed anything uhhh whoops<3 lol

#mlp #mlp applejack #tezztalks #mlp headcanons #might make more of these idk tho #block that tag if u dont wanna see em BDNVD #the hc tag i mean

[theartofdreaming1]

Slightly paraphrased, but Peeta talking about that moment he developed his crush on Katniss is just too sweet 😊

As usual, my thoughts regarding this week’s prompts and random thoughts on chapters 22-24 are below the cut (sprinkled in some psychology thoughts again).

heart

Honestly, I think the people in Panem would perceive the whole everlark storyline the same way we perceive and react to our ships on tv (desperately wanting to reach through the screen, shoving the characters forcefully together, screaming “And now, kiss!”); especially the Capitolites who barely recognize the tributes (or people in the districts, in general) as people. The people in the districts would definitely view the whole thing more under a “reality tv” kind of lens, questioning how much of the relationship is real or not (we know that Finnick certainly thought that the entire thing was just a spiel, until Peeta hit that forcefield). The time spent in the cave must have been pretty convincing, though.

mind

I think that Katniss is still torn here - On the one hand, she kind of wants to believe that Peeta is actually into her (remember the happiness she felt when Peeta told her how his crush on her began, and it all added up and seemed so real), but on the other hand she’s terrified of that possibility because A) lingering trauma from her mom’s depression in response the Mr. Everdeen’s death, B) Katniss never even considered falling in love, so that’s a sudden unexpected thing to deal with, and C) maybe it’s just for the sake of the Games; and wouldn’t that hurt, getting your hopes up only to learn it was only for show? (How about we ask Peeta about that?)

soul

Yeah, that quote about Peeta only eating stale bread also struck me as quite sad. It just further adds to his understanding how there should be more to life than just survival, though. (One day, I’ll make that post about Peeta, Katniss, and Maslow’s pyramid of needs, I swear! I’ve already gathered some research material)

Chapter 22

My mother’s hand strokes my cheek and I don’t push it away as I would in wakefulness, never wanting her to know how much I crave that gentle touch. How much I miss her even though I still don’t trust her. - Ugh, I can’t... Katniss misses her mom, misses being cared for😢 I’m so glad we’re going to see her patch up her relationship with her mom in CF... On a different note, Katniss craving that gentle touch just perfectly illustrates why she’s so drawn to Peeta, who is generally such a gentle soul (I mean, he’s literally the person stroking her cheek here 😊)

He [Peeta] doesn’t seem angry about my tricking him, drugging him, and running off to the feast. Maybe I’m just too beat-up and I’ll hear about it later when I’m stronger. But for the moment, he’s all gentleness. - As I was saying... 😉

“I’ll go hunting soon,” I say. “Not too soon, all right?” he says. “You just let me take care of you for a while.” - I love them so much😊🥰 And then Peeta makes sure she’s well-fed and hydrated, he rubs her cold feet and tucks her into the sleeping back... and she let’s him! 💗

“He [Thresh] let you go because he didn’t want to owe you anything?” asks Peeta in disbelief. “Yes. I don’t expect you to understand it. You’ve always had enough. But if you’d lived in the Seam, I wouldn’t have to explain,” I say. “And don’t try. Obviously I’m too dim to get it,” he says. - Oof. This exchange here is interesting in many ways: 1) it highlights their different experiences, tied to their different socioeconomic backgrounds, basically, and 2)  that Katniss is very much aware of this difference, but we also see hints of her own ignorance here - because Peeta didn’t have to starve in his childhood, she thinks that he can’t possibly understand this level of hardship; but there are other ways in which one can suffer/lack fundamental needs, which brings us to 3) Peeta’s response about being “obviously too dim to get it”; I think this is a clue to his mom being also verbally abusive towards him: she called him “stupid creature” when he burnt those loaves of bread for Katniss and when he’s losing it in the attic of the Justice Building in D11 in CF he is mad that Katniss and Haymitch keep things from him “like [he’s] too inconsequential or stupid or weak to handle them”, which - to me - sounds like he’s tired of being treated that way (i.e. the way his mother treats him)

“I want to go home, Peeta,” I say plaintively, like a a small child. - God, this is a teenager in a murder-arena who feels like wanting to go home is a childish notion instead of a totally legitimate wish for anyone in that situation, regardless of age 😢

It’s not that Peeta’s soft exactly, and he’s proved he’s not a coward. But there are things you don’t question too much, I guess, when your home always smells like baking bread, whereas Gale questions everything. What would Peeta think of the irreverent banter that passes between us as we break the law each day? Would it shock him? The things we say about Panem? Gale’s tirades against the Capitol? - Geez, Katniss, give Peeta some credit here! A) It’s not like Peeta can walk around District 12 talking publicly about the injustices happening there - she and Peeta hadn’t even talked with each other before the reaping, whereas Gale is her best friend who rants to her while they are outside the confines of D12 and B) Peeta is literally the one who introduced the whole “not a piece in their Games”-idea to her; why would he be clutching his pearls over Katniss and Gale’s irreverent banter?! Just because Peeta didn’t live on the brink of starvation (she again brings up how his house smells like bread and - at this point - still thinks that the family running the bakery actually gets to eat what they produce just like that), doesn’t mean he doesn’t see how shitty life in D12 is - he can still want better conditions for those who are worse off than him!

“I did do the right thing,” I say. “No! Just don’t, Katniss!” His grip tightens, hurting my hand, and there’s real anger in his voice. “Don’t die for me. You won’t be doing me any favors. All right?” - Well, we’ll see this song and dance again in CF...

And while I was talking, the idea of actually losing Peeta hit me again and I realized how much I don’t want him to die. [...] And it’s not about what will happen back home. And it’s not just that I don’t want to be alone. It’s him. I do not want to lose the boy with the bread.” - I wish CF Katniss would remember this moment when she is questioning her motives about saving Peeta’s life in the arena - You. Care. For. This. Boy! You. Value. Him. For. Who. He. Is!!!

This is the first kiss that we’re both fully aware of. [...] This is the first kiss where I actually feel stirring inside my chest. Warm and curious. This is the first kiss that makes me want another. - Whoo! Is it hot in here or is it just me? 😉

I’m struck by his immediacy now. As we settle in, he pulls my head down to use his arm as a pillow; the other rests protectively over me even when he goes to sleep. No one has held me like this in such a long time. Since my father died and I stopped trusting my mother, no one else’s arms have made me feel this safe. - He makes her feel safe in a murder-arena!!! 😭 This is the kind of stuff that makes everlark just a top tier romance, tbh

Peeta telling Katniss about his crush starting on their first day of school 🥰😭 - and her reaction to it... For a moment, I’m almost foolishly happy - yes, because you have a crush on him, too! - and then confusion sweeps over me. Because we’re supposed to be making up this stuff [...] So, if those details are true... could it all be true? - YESSSSSSSS!!!

“You have a... remarkable memory, “ I say haltingly. - as a severely socially awkward person... I felt that lame response in my bones 😅

“You don’t have much competition anywhere.” And this time, it’s me who leans in. - God, this would be such an amazing moment if it didn’t get tainted by that immediate sponsor gift, which just serves to muddle Katniss’s feelings with her sense of survival, further complicating her relationship with Peeta... *sigh* 

Chapter 23

“What was that you were saying just before the food arrived? Something about me... no competition... best thing that ever happened to you...” “I don’t remember that last part,” I say, hoping it’s too dim in here for the cameras to pick up my blush. “Oh, that’s right. That’s what I was thinking,” he says. - Peeta is the master of being a cheeky little shit and adorable flirt at the same time

“So, since we were five, you never even noticed any other girls?” I ask him. “No, I noticed just about every girl, but none of them made a lasting impression but you,” he says. - I appreciate that while Peeta has had a crush on Katniss forever, he clearly didn’t spend the entire time pining after her, oblivious to the rest of the world - he has a life outside of Katniss Everdeen, but ultimately, it all lead back to her

A disturbing thought hits me. “But then, our only neighbor will be Haymitch!” “Ah, that’ll be nice,” says Peeta, tightening his arms around me. “You and me and Haymitch. Very cozy. Picnics, birthdays, long winter nights around the fire retelling old Hunger Games tales.” “I told you, he hates me!” I say, but I can’t help laughing at the image of Haymitch becoming my new pal. - Laugh all you want, this is going to end up being your future anyway 😄

He [Haymitch]’s at something of a disadvantage because most mentors have a partner, another victor to help them whereas Haymitch has to bready to go into action at any moment. Kind of like me when I was alone in the arena. I wonder how he’s holding up, with the drinking, the attention, and the stress of tring to keep us alive. - Katniss is already worrying about her “new pal”, I see ;)

Maybe he [Haymitch] wasn’t always a drunk. Maybe, in the beginning, he tried to help the tributes. But then it got unbearable. It must be hell to mentor two kids and then watch them die. - Honestly, that sounds absolutely awful...

Poor, Katniss, when she learns of Thresh’s death :( - But no one will understand my sorrow at Thresh’s murder. - It’s horrible how compassion and basic human decency gets construed as ‘weakness’ in the world of Hunger Games (esp. the Capitol)

Then I escape into sleep, comforted by a full belly and the steady warmth of Peeta beside me. - Honestly, I think a word analysis of THG-series could be interesting; how often does Katniss mention “warmth”, “steady/steadiness” “safe/safety/security” in connection with “Peeta”?

“We make a goat cheese and apple tart at the bakery,” he says. “Bet that’s expensive,” I say. “Too expensive for my family to eat. Unless it’s gone very stale. Of course, practically everything we eat is stale,” says Peeta [...] Huh. I always assumed the shopkeepers live a soft life. And it’s true, Peeta has always had enough to eat. But there’s something kind of depressing about living your life on stale bread - Katniss is starting to realize that the lives of the merchants isn’t a cushy as she thought; also, in a way, we see a “prettier” version of how Panem treats the districts overall -> feeding the districts just enough that they can do their work (plus/minus a couple of people who’ll die of starvation, but at a small, for Capitolites insignificant margin), but not so much that they are in good shape to rebel; here, the merchants of D12 have just enough that they can live a “decent” life (they know it could be worse -> the Seam), but they don’t have enough to live a free, comfortable, self-determined life either. This also just further drives a wedge between the inhabitants of D12 (the merchants won’t want to rebel because they don’t want to get ‘demoted’ in their lifestyle, starving like the people from the Seam, and the Seam folk feel resentful towards the merchant people, while also not having the resources to rebel, due to their awful socioeconomic conditions)

What would be my life like on a daily basis? Most of it has been consumed with the acquisition of food. Take that away and I’m not really sure who I am, what my identity is. - It’s so sad who Katniss has been so consumed with ensuring that her most base needs are fulfilled that she barely has had the time to really figure out who she is and what she wants from life (If we’re talking Maslow’s pyramid of needs, Katniss would primarily be stuck on the lowest tier 😢)

At least, we’ll be friends, I think. Nothing will change the fact that we’ve saved each other’s lives in here. And beyond that, he will always be the boy with the bread. Good friends. - Honestly, Katniss counting on being good friends with Peeta after the Games is the highest honor she can bestow on him at that moment (she’s so into him, lol); of course, knowing that their relationship is going to be a bit rocky once they’ve come back makes this thought a little sad... but we also know they’ll make up (and out ;) in the future

Peeta licking his plate and blowing a kiss out to Effie is such an adorable goofball-moment 😊

I cover his mouth with my hand, but I’m laughing. “Stop! Cato could be right outside our cave.” He grabs my hand away. “What do I care? I’ve got you to protect me now,” says Peeta, pulling me to him. - This moment would be so cute (also, Peeta’s so confident in Katniss’s skills to protect him, which is adorable - toxic masculinity who?) but... Ugh, he’s just so giddy here, it kind of breaks my heart for when he learns later that (at least some) of Katniss’s reactions were just for show

“If we want food, we better head back up to my old hunting grounds,” I say. “Your call, Just tell me what you need me to do,” Peeta says. - Love how Peeta’s always ready to follow Katniss’s lead :)

Ideally, I’d dump Peeta now with some simple root-gathering chore and go hunt [...] “Katniss,” he says. “We need to split up. I know I’m chasing away the game.” [...] “Show me some plants to gather and that way we’ll both be useful.” - Teamwork! If it weren’t for Katniss worrying for Peeta’s safety, they’d be on the same page here

“What if you climbed up in a tree and acted as a lookout while I haunted?” I say, trying to make it sound like very important work. “What if you show me what’s edible around here and go get us some meat?” he says, mimicking my tone. - I really like how Peeta’s challenges Katniss here; he doesn’t just go along with everything she says, while still being quite reasonable

I feel like I’m eleven, again, tethered not to the safety of the fence but to Peeta, allowing myself twenty, maybe thirty yards of hunting space. [...] I allow myself to drift farther away, and soon have two rabbits and a fat squirrel to show for it. - I don’t know, but Katniss feeling tethered to Peeta makes me think of Mary Ainsworth’s attachment theory, according to which children with a secure attachment to their primary caregiver use  their “attachment figure as a safe base to explore the environment”... Of course, Ainsworth’s Strange Situation was conducted with young children, but attachment styles are supposed to influence the relationships we form with people in our later lives as well (including romantic relationships)... I dunno, just a random association that popped into my brain 😅

Chapter 24

Peeta’s a whiz with fires, coaxing a blaze out of the damp wood. - Heh, Peeta sure knows how to handle fire, huh, Katniss (or should I say: Girl on Fire?) 😏

I order him into the sleeping bag and set aside the rest of his food for him when he wakes. He drops off immediately. I pull the sleeping bag up to his chin and kiss his forehead, not for the audience, but for me. Because I’m so greateful that he’s still here, not dead by the stream as I’d thought.  - Aww, this is so sweet (and domestic)!

It’s funny. I feel almost as if it’s the first day of the Games again. That I’m in the same position. [...] But no, there’s the boy waiting beside me. I feel his arms wrap around me. - They are a team! Katniss doesn’t have to face the horrors of the Games alone anymore! It keeps boiling down to this.

#thgagain #thg #hunger games #katniss everdeen #peeta mellark #thg meta #my sketches and drawings #everlark

[supercorpkid]

Game Night.

Supercorp, Kara Danvers x Daughter!Reader, Lena Luthor x Daughter!Reader, Alex Danvers x Niece!Reader, Kelly Olsen x Niece!Reader.

Word count: 1865.

Two weeks ago, your moms weren’t even talking to each other, now they can’t go five minutes without touching and kissing. You want to complain about it, but then you remember how bad it was those days without Lena in your house, so you just shut up and let them enjoy themselves.

“So, I was thinking…” Kara goes into the living room, popcorn in hand, settling in one couch with your mom. You’re on the opposite side, reaching out for the food. “We haven’t had a game night in a long time.”

“That’s true.” Lena agrees, taking the bowl from Kara’s hand and passing it to you.

“We should have one. You know, we can invite the Olsens, and you can invite your girlfriend.” Kara looks at you raising the eyebrows. You choke on one popcorn, and start coughing, turning red. “Kid are you alright?” Kara rushes to your side and you swallow hard.

“Rao, no.” You reach for your soda. They wait for you to recover yourself. “There’s no way I’m inviting Maya to a game night.”

“Why not?” Kara asks, a little pout coming up on her lips.

“Because you can’t play for fun.” You say and Lena gives Kara a little side smirk. “Don’t laugh, Mrs. Luthor. You’re even worse!”

“HA!” Kara says feeling victorious, but she soon stops and frowns. “Come on! Why can’t we have a nice time with her?”

You just raise one eyebrow.

“We’ll behave.” She promises. “Right, love? We can behave, right?”

You scoff.

“Even if you could, which we all know you can’t, there's no way of knowing the kind of embarrassment aunt Alex would put me through.” You say, making Kara roll her eyes in response.

“Look who’s a teenager now, feeling oh so embarrassed of her family.” She complains and you hold a laugh at her reaction. You look at Lena with pleading eyes, asking her to just drop this ridiculous idea, forgetting completely that Lena is now Maya’s number one fan.

“I think it’s an excellent idea!” Lena agrees with her head. “So, it’s settled.” What? No, it’s not. “We’ll have the Olsens and Maya for game’s night on Thursday.”

“Great.” You fake a smile and think of ways to get out from this.

But Thursday comes and you haven’t figured out yet. So, sooner than later, Maya is knocking on your door and you’re looking around to everyone’s face and their reaction. Rao, you hope they’ll behave.

“Hey babe!” Maya says when you open the door. “Thanks for inviting me.”

“Yeah, don’t thank me yet.” You smile and she gives you a kiss on the cheek, well aware of everyone’s eyes on both of you. “I’m sorry in advance.”

“Maya! Come in!” Kara smiles, throwing her arms up, looking way too excited to see someone she met once. It’s the beginning of the night and your cheeks are already burning red. “We’re about to divide the teams.”

“Oh, great.” Maya chimes, walking in, and you stand still. Should you pretend you’re not feeling well, and tell Maya to leave? “Hey! I got you, Mrs. Danvers!”

Well, shit.

“YES! PAN PALS!” Kara yells, high-fiving your girlfriend, and you drop your head low. This is going to be a really long night, won’t it?

“Come on, kiddo. It’s me and you.” Alex says and you smile a little. At least you have a chance to win, if everything else is going to be a bust.

“Well, I guess that leaves you with me, Jamie.” You hear Lena’s voice coming from the living room. “Come on, we’re all settled.”

Maya comes back to where you are, and holds your hand, pulling you towards the living room like she is trying to tell you that everything is ok, and you don’t have to be embarrassed. Not yet, anyways.

“Ok, should we start with Pictionary?” Kara asks, putting a few games on top of the table. You look at Lena and Jamie on the side of the living room, clearly coming up with codes for the game, and you turn to aunt Alex, sitting on the couch next to you.

“Where’s auntie?” You ask Alex, talking about Kelly.

“Oh, she’ll join later. She had one patient coming in late.” Alex looks at Maya in front of her, grabs her beer, and does her intimidation pose. You widen your eyes. “So, Maya-”

“Aunt! We should talk about our codes!” You scream, before she starts. And you hear Kara agreeing, pulling Maya to the side so they can talk. You look at Alex. “Please, don’t embarrass me. You know Kara is already going to do that way too much!”

“Then what else will I do? I thought everyone was supposed to embarrass you today.” She jokes and you roll your eyes. “Ok, fine. I’ll behave. So, what are our codes?”

The game starts with Lena and Jamie not being able to draw nor guess a skateboard. They absolutely suck. But weirdly Kara and Maya make a good duo, and they make you and Alex work very hard to try to win. In the end, it’s very close, but they win and Kara is just over the moon.

“The Pan Pals do it again!” Kara cheers excitedly.

“They do it for the first time, is what you mean.” Alex cuts her off, and you give Maya a smile.

“I just can’t believe I’ve beaten the two Luthors.” Maya says with a chuckle.

“Don’t get used to it.” Lena pretends to be annoyed, but then smiles. “Congratulation, pan pals.” She jokes.

Kelly arrives soon after, and you all have to think of a game with no teams, so she can join. You end up settling for Resistance.

“I don’t like Resistance.” Kara crosses her arms. She always loses this one.

“Yeah, ‘cause you can’t lie, momma.”

“I can lie!” Kara says and everyone, except Lena, gives her a little smile. “I can too! I said you were the cutest baby I’ve seen, but you looked like a potato with eyes!”

“Oh, yeah. You did.” Alex agrees next to you and you frown.

“You look like a potato now!” It’s your defense, but it doesn’t matter. Everyone is already laughing at you. Even Lena, which is hurtful. “Ok, whatever.”

“Oh, my baby.” Kara comes to hug you and you roll your eyes. “Sorry, you looked adorable.”

“You are aware I look EXACTLY like you, right?” You ask and she thinks about it for a second. “Yeah, well, you think about that next time.”

Despite Kara’s protest, the game is still fun. It doesn’t matter that Kelly wins, because she can tell when everyone is lying. It's still fun hanging out with all of them, and it’s nice to see Maya getting along well with everyone. Your heart feels like exploding in your chest from all the love you’re feeling.

You all play a bunch of quick games after that. And before you realize, you let your guard down. You should’ve known better than doing that. Your moms cannot behave.

“Lena!” Kara looks at Lena’s hand, and her UNO cards. “Please, don’t.”

“I’m sorry, honey.” Lena drops her voice low, sounding like a true movie villain.

“Please, Lena.” Kara begs and you roll your eyes. Maya looks amused with the interaction, and that makes you smile a little, that is until Kara finishes her sentence. “Lena, I swear no sex for a week, if you do this.”

“OH MY GOD!” You yell, turning red, while everyone else laughs hard. You reach for Lena’s hand and put her +4 card down. “That’s it! Draw four. Stop talking. Good God.”

Maya is also turning red next to you, but from laughter. Jamie looks equally amused, and the only other person who is rolling her eyes is Alex. Kara huffs in her seat, but draws four cards, and stops talking for a little while. Thanks to Rao, Jamie has the winning card and the game ends quickly.

“Well, this has been fun.” You lie standing up, looking at Jamie that stands up right after. “But the young ones are going outside to play video game.”

Maya stands up, looking confused. Kara stands up too.

“You’re NOT young, momma.” You stop her, making Lena giggle into her wine glass, and Alex wheeze out a laughter.

“I was going to get more wine.” Kara rolls her eyes. “But that was offensive.”

You leave a pouting Kara behind, and make your way to the backyard, followed closely by Jamie and Maya. The three of you end up not playing anything, just talking and laughing about the night.

“Sorry about my moms, they’re-”

“So fun!” Maya finishes your sentence, with a smile. “Seriously, they’re so cool! I wish my parents were this chill.” She pokes Jamie. “Your moms are pretty awesome too. I hope Kelly didn’t over analyze me.”

“Oh, she definitely did.” Jamie says, making you agree with your head. “But I’m sure she liked you.”

“They all did.” You know that for sure.

“Yeah, we all did.” Alex says, poking her head through the door with a smile. “Work emergency, so we've gotta go.” She points inside.

“Oh!” You and Jamie stand up immediately knowing what that means.

“Maya, Kelly can give you a ride back home, if you’d like.” Alex adds, and Maya stands up, agreeing with her head.

“Yeah! Sure, thanks!” She says, and the three of you make your way to the living room.

Everyone goes around saying goodbyes. Alex already rushed out the door, and Kelly is picking up her stuff to leave.

“Oh, where’s your momma? I wanna say goodbye to her.” Maya says and your eyes widen looking at Lena, well-aware Kara flew out of the house even before Alex went outside to call you guys.

“She-She is not feeling so well.” Lena answers. “She’s upstairs. But don’t worry, I’ll tell her you said goodbye. And I’m sure you two will be seeing each other again soon, because you’re more than welcomed here, dear.”

“Thanks, Mrs. Luthor.” Maya waves Lena goodbye, and you breathe out in relief.

“I’ll walk you out!” You say, grabbing Maya’s hand and guiding her to Kelly’s momvan parked on the driveway. “I’ll see you tomorrow at school.”

“Great.” She gives you a quick kiss, before Kelly shows up. “I had a great time. Your family is amazing, I get now why you’re so awesome.”

Jamie coughs behind you two.

“And Jamie. Yeah.” Maya adds with a smile. “I get why both of you are so great!”

“Nice save, babe.” You kiss her again, and smile. “I’m glad you came.”

“Me too.” Maya kisses one more time and gets in Kelly’s momvan. You watch them leaving then make your way inside the house.

“See.” Lena says as soon as you walk in. “We can behave.” You raise one eyebrow at her. “I mean, I can behave.”

“Yeah, you can.” You agree and Lena walks to you, giving you a kiss on the head.

“Are you happy?” She asks looking at your face, and your smile widens in response. “Good! That’s all I want for you, babygirl.”

And you are happy. Probably the happiest you’ve ever been. Finally.

#supergirl #kara danvers #lena luthor #supercorp #supercorpfamily #kara x lena #kara x reader #supercorp daughter #supercorp fanfic #lena x reader

[chrisevansluv]

Here is the 2012 Detail Magazine interview with chris evans:

The Avengers' Chris Evans: Just Your Average Beer-Swilling, Babe-Loving Buddhist

The 30-year-old Bud Light-chugging, Beantown-bred star of The Avengers is widely perceived as the ultimate guy's guy. But beneath the bro persona lies a serious student of Buddhism, an unrepentant song-and-dance man, and a guy who talks to his mom about sex. And farts.

By Adam Sachs,

Photographs by Norman Jean Roy

May 2012 Issue

"Should we just kill him and bury his body?" Chris Evans is stage whispering into the impassive blinking light of my digital recorder.

"Chris!" shouts his mother, her tone a familiar-to-anyone-with-a-mother mix of coddling and concern. "Don't say that! What if something happened?"

We're at Evans' apartment, an expansive but not overly tricked-out bachelor-pad-ish loft in a semi-industrial nowheresville part of Boston, hard by Chinatown, near an area sometimes called the Combat Zone. Evans has a fuzzy, floppy, slept-in-his-clothes aspect that'd be nearly unrecognizable if you knew him only by the upright, spit-polished bearing of the onscreen hero. His dog, East, a sweet and slobbery American bulldog, is spread out on a couch in front of the TV. The shelves of his fridge are neatly stacked with much of the world's supply of Bud Light in cans and little else.

On the counter sit a few buckets of muscle-making whey-protein powder that belong to Evans' roommate, Zach Jarvis, an old pal who sometimes tags along on set as a paid "assistant" and a personal trainer who bulked Evans up for his role as the super-ripped patriot in last summer's blockbuster Captain America: The First Avenger. A giant clock on the exposed-brick wall says it's early evening, but Evans operates on his own sense of time. Between gigs, his schedule's all his, which usually translates into long stretches of alone time during the day and longer social nights for the 30-year-old.

"I could just make this . . . disappear," says Josh Peck, another old pal and occasional on-set assistant, in a deadpan mumble, poking at the voice recorder I'd left on the table while I was in the bathroom.

Evans' mom, Lisa, now speaks directly into the microphone: "Don't listen to them—I'm trying to get them not to say these things!"

But not saying things isn't in the Evans DNA. They're an infectiously gregarious clan. Irish-Italians, proud Bostoners, close-knit, and innately theatrical. "We all act, we sing," Evans says. "It was like the fucking von Trapps." Mom was a dancer and now runs a children's theater. First-born Carly directed the family puppet shows and studied theater at NYU. Younger brother Scott has parts on One Life to Live and Law & Order under his belt and lives in Los Angeles full-time—something Evans stopped doing several years back. Rounding out the circle are baby sister Shanna and a pair of "strays" the family brought into their Sudbury, Massachusetts, home: Josh, who went from mowing the lawn to moving in when his folks relocated during his senior year in high school; and Demery, who was Evans' roommate until recently.

"Our house was like a hotel," Evans says. "It was a loony-tunes household. If you got arrested in high school, everyone knew: 'Call Mrs. Evans, she'll bail you out.'"

Growing up, they had a special floor put in the basement where all the kids practiced tap-dancing. The party-ready rec room also had a Ping-Pong table and a separate entrance. This was the house kids in the neighborhood wanted to hang at, and this was the kind of family you wanted to be adopted by. Spend an afternoon listening to them dish old dirt and talk over each other and it's easy to see why. Now they're worried they've said too much, laid bare the tender soul of the actor behind the star-spangled superhero outfit, so there's talk of offing the interviewer. I can hear all this from the bathroom, which, of course, is the point of a good stage whisper.

To be sure, no one's said too much, and the more you're brought into the embrace of this boisterous, funny, shit-slinging, demonstrably loving extended family, the more likable and enviable the whole dynamic is.

Sample exchange from today's lunch of baked ziti at a family-style Italian restaurant:

Mom: When he was a kid, he asked me, 'Mom, will I ever think farting isn't funny?'

Chris: You're throwing me under the bus, Ma! Thank you.

Mom: Well, if a dog farts you still find it funny.

Then, back at the apartment, where Mrs. Evans tries to give me good-natured dirt on her son without freaking him out:

Mom: You always tell me when you think a girl is attractive. You'll call me up so excited. Is that okay to say?

Chris: Nothing wrong with that.

Mom: And can I say all the girls you've brought to the house have been very sweet and wonderful? Of course, those are the ones that make it to the house. It's been a long time, hasn't it?

Chris: Looooong time.

Mom: The last one at our house? Was it six years ago?

Chris: No names, Ma!

Mom: But she knocked it out of the park.

Chris: She got drunk and puked at Auntie Pam's house! And she puked on the way home and she puked at our place.

Mom: And that's when I fell in love with her. Because she was real.

We're operating under a no-names rule, so I'm not asking if it's Jessica Biel who made this memorable first impression. She and Evans were serious for a couple of years. But I don't want to picture lovely Jessica Biel getting sick at Auntie Pam's or in the car or, really, anywhere.

East the bulldog ambles over to the table, begging for food.

"That dog is the love of his life," Mrs. Evans says. "Which tells me he'll be an unbelievable parent, but I don't want him to get married right now." She turns to Chris. "The way you are, I just don't think you're ready."

Some other things I learn about Evans from his mom: He hates going to the gym; he was so wound-up as a kid she'd let him stand during dinner, his legs shaking like caged greyhounds; he suffered weekly "Sunday-night meltdowns" over schoolwork and the angst of the sensitive middle-schooler; after she and his father split and he was making money from acting, he bought her the Sudbury family homestead rather than let her leave it.

Eventually his mom and Josh depart, and Evans and I go to work depleting his stash of Bud Light. It feels like we drink Bud Light and talk for days, because we basically do. I arrived early Friday evening; it's Saturday night now and it'll be sunup Sunday before I sleeplessly make my way to catch a train back to New York City. Somewhere in between we slip free of the gravitational pull of the bachelor pad and there's bottle service at a club and a long walk with entourage in tow back to Evans' apartment, where there is some earnest-yet-surreal group singing, piano playing, and chitchat. Evans is fun to talk to, partly because he's an open, self-mocking guy with an explosive laugh and no apparent need to sleep, and partly because when you cut just below the surface, it's clear he's not quite the dude's dude he sometimes plays onscreen and in TV appearances.

From a distance, Chris Evans the movie star seems a predictable, nearly inevitable piece of successful Hollywood packaging come to market. There's his major-release debut as the dorkily unaware jock Jake in the guilty pleasure Not Another Teen Movie (in one memorable scene, Evans has whipped cream on his chest and a banana up his ass). The female-friendly hunk appeal—his character in The Nanny Diaries is named simply Harvard Hottie—is balanced by a kind of casual-Friday, I'm-from-Boston regular-dudeness. Following the siren song of comic-book cash, he was the Human Torch in two Fantastic Four films. As with scrawny Steve Rogers, the Captain America suit beefed up his stature as a formidable screen presence, a bankable leading man, all of which leads us to The Avengers, this season's megabudget, megawatt ensemble in which he stars alongside Scarlett Johansson, Mark Ruffalo, Robert Downey Jr., and Chris Hemsworth.

It all feels inevitable—and yet it nearly didn't happen. Evans repeatedly turned down the Captain America role, fearing he'd be locked into what was originally a nine-picture deal. He was shooting Puncture, about a drug-addicted lawyer, at the time. Most actors doing small-budget legal dramas would jump at the chance to play the lead in a Marvel franchise, but Evans saw a decade of his life flash before his eyes.

What he remembers thinking is this: "What if the movie comes out and it's a success and I just reject all of this? What if I want to move to the fucking woods?"

By "the woods," he doesn't mean a quiet life away from the spotlight, some general metaphorical life escape route. He means the actual woods. "For a long time all I wanted for Christmas were books about outdoor survival," he says. "I was convinced that I was going to move to the woods. I camped a lot, I took classes. At 18, I told myself if I don't live in the woods by the time I'm 25, I have failed."

Evans has described his hesitation at signing on for Captain America. Usually he talks about the time commitment, the loss of what remained of his relative anonymity. On the junkets for the movie, he was open about needing therapy after the studio reduced the deal to six movies and he took the leap. What he doesn't usually mention is that he was racked with anxiety before the job came up.

"I get very nervous," Evans explains. "I shit the bed if I have to present something on stage or if I'm doing press. Because it's just you." He's been known to walk out of press conferences, to freeze up and go silent during the kind of relaxed-yet-high-stakes meetings an actor of his stature is expected to attend: "Do you know how badly I audition? Fifty percent of the time I have to walk out of the room. I'm naturally very pale, so I turn red and sweat. And I have to literally walk out. Sometimes mid-audition. You start having these conversations in your brain. 'Chris, don't do this. Chris, take it easy. You're just sitting in a room with a person saying some words, this isn't life. And you're letting this affect you? Shame on you.'"

Shades of "Sunday-night meltdowns." Luckily the nerves never follow him to the set. "You do your neuroses beforehand, so when they yell 'Action' you can be present," he says.

Okay, there was one on-set panic attack—while Evans was shooting Puncture. "We were getting ready to do a court scene in front of a bunch of people, and I don't know what happened," he says. "It's just your brain playing games with you. 'Hey, you know how we sometimes freak out? What if we did it right now?'"

One of the people who advised Evans to take the Captain America role was his eventual Avengers costar Robert Downey Jr. "I'd seen him around," Downey says. "We share an agent. I like to spend a lot of my free time talking to my agent about his other clients—I just had a feeling about him."

What he told Evans was: This puppy is going to be big, and when it is you're going to get to make the movies you want to make. "In the marathon obstacle course of a career," Downey says, "it's just good to have all the stats on paper for why you're not only a team player but also why it makes sense to support you in the projects you want to do—because you've made so much damned money for the studio."

There's also the fact that Evans had a chance to sign on for something likely to be a kind of watershed moment in the comic-book fascination of our time. "I do think The Avengers is the crescendo of this superhero phase in entertainment—except of course for Iron Man 3," Downey says. "It'll take a lot of innovation to keep it alive after this."

Captain America is the only person left who was truly close to Howard Stark, father of Tony Stark (a.k.a. Iron Man), which meant that Evans' and Downey's story lines are closely linked, and in the course of doing a lot of scenes together, they got to be pals. Downey diagnoses his friend with what he terms "low-grade red-carpet anxiety disorder."

"He just hates the game-show aspect of doing PR," Downey says. "Obviously there's pressure for anyone in this transition he's in. But he will easily triple that pressure to make sure he's not being lazy. That's why I respect the guy. I wouldn't necessarily want to be in his skin. But his motives are pure. He just needs to drink some red-carpet chamomile."

"The majority of the world is empty space," Chris Evans says, watching me as if my brain might explode on hearing this news—or like he might have to fight me if I try to contradict him. We're back at his apartment after a cigarette run through the Combat Zone.

"Empty space!" he says again, slapping the table and sort of yelling. Then, in a slow, breathy whisper, he repeats: "Empty space, empty space. All that we see in the world, the life, the animals, plants, people, it's all empty space. That's amazing!" He slaps the table again. "You want another beer? Gotta be Bud Light. Get dirty—you're in Boston. Okay, organize your thoughts. I gotta take a piss . . ."

My thoughts are this: That this guy who is hugging his dog and talking to me about space and mortality and the trouble with Boston girls who believe crazy gossip about him—this is not the guy I expected to meet. I figured he'd be a meatball. Though, truthfully, I'd never called anyone a meatball until Evans turned me on to the put-down. As in: "My sister Shanna dates meatballs." And, more to the point: "When I do interviews, I'd rather just be the beer-drinking dude from Boston and not get into the complex shit, because I don't want every meatball saying, 'So hey, whaddyathink about Buddhism?'"

At 17, Evans came across a copy of Hermann Hesse's Siddhartha and began his spiritual questing. It's a path of study and struggle that, he says, defines his true purpose in life. "I love acting. It's my playground, it lets me explore. But my happiness in this world, my level of peace, is never going to be dictated by acting," he says. "My goal in life is to detach from the egoic mind. Do you know anything about Eastern philosophy?"

I sip some Bud Light and shake my head sheepishly. "They talk about the egoic mind, the part of you that's self-aware, the watcher, the person you think is driving this machine," he says. "And that separation from self and mind is the root of suffering. There are ways of retraining the way you think. This isn't really supported in Western society, which is focused on 'Go get it, earn it, win it, marry it.'"

Scarlett Johansson says that one of the things she appreciates about Evans is how he steers clear of industry chat when they see each other. "Basically every actor," she says, "including myself, when we finish a job we're like, 'Well, that's it for me. Had a good run. Put me out to pasture.' But Chris doesn't strike me as someone who frets about the next job." The two met on the set of The Perfect Score when they were teenagers and have stayed close; The Avengers is their third movie together. "He has this obviously masculine presence—a dude's dude—and we're used to seeing him play heroic characters," Johansson says, "but he's also surprisingly sensitive. He has close female friends, and you can talk to him about anything. Plus there's that secret song-and-dance, jazz-hands side of Chris. I feel like he grew up with the Partridge Family. He'd be just as happy doing Guys and Dolls as he would Captain America 2."

East needs to do his business, so Evans and I take him up to the roof deck. Evans bought this apartment in 2010 when living in L.A. full-time no longer appealed to him. He came back to stay close to his extended family and the intimate circle of Boston pals he's maintained since high school. The move also seems like a pretty clear keep-it-real hedge against the manic ego-stroking distractions of Hollywood.

"I think my daytime person is different than my nighttime person," Evans says. "With my high-school buddies, we drink beer and talk sports and it's great. The kids in my Buddhism class in L.A., they're wildly intelligent, and I love being around them, but they're not talking about the Celtics. And that's part of me. It's a strange dichotomy. I don't mind being a certain way with some people and having this other piece of me that's just for me."

I asked Downey about Evans' outward regular-Joe persona. "It's complete horseshit," Downey says. "There's an inherent street-smart intelligence there. I don't think he tries to hide it. But he's much more evolved and much more culturally aware than he lets on."

Perhaps the meatball and the meditation can coexist. We argue about our egoic brains and the tao of Boston girls. "I love wet hair and sweatpants," he says in their defense. "I like sneakers and ponytails. I like girls who aren't so la-di-da. L.A. is so la-di-da. I like Boston girls who shit on me. Not literally. Girls who give me a hard time, bust my chops a little."

The chief buster of Evans' chops is, of course, Evans himself. "The problem is, the brain I'm using to dissect this world is a brain formed by it," he says. "We're born into confusion, and we get the blessing of letting go of it." Then he adds: "I think this shit by day. And then night comes and it's like, 'Fuck it, let's drink.'"

And so we do. It's getting late. Again. We should have eaten dinner, but Evans sometimes forgets to eat: "If I could just take a pill to make me full forever, I wouldn't think twice."

We talk about his dog and camping with his dog and why he loves being alone more than almost anything except maybe not being alone. "I swear to God, if you saw me when I am by myself in the woods, I'm a lunatic," he says. "I sing, I dance. I do crazy shit."

Evans' unflagging, all-encompassing enthusiasm is impressive, itself a kind of social intelligence. "If you want to have a good conversation with him, don't talk about the fact that he's famous" was the advice I got from Mark Kassen, who codirected Puncture. "He's a blast, a guy who can hang. For quite a long time. Many hours in a row."

I've stopped looking at the clock. We've stopped talking philosophy and moved into more emotional territory. He asks questions about my 9-month-old son, and then Captain America gets teary when I talk about the wonder of his birth. "I weep at everything," he says. "I emote. I love things so much—I just never want to dilute that."

He talks about how close he feels to his family, how open they all are with each other. About everything. All the time. "The first time I had sex," he says, "I raced home and was like, 'Mom, I just had sex! Where's the clit?'"

Wait, I ask—did she ever tell you?

"Still don't know where it is, man," he says, then breaks into a smile composed of equal parts shit-eating grin and inner peace. "I just don't know. Make some movies, you don't have to know…"

Here is the 2012 Detail Magazine interview with chris evans:

The Avengers' Chris Evans: Just Your Average Beer-Swilling, Babe-Loving Buddhist

The 30-year-old Bud Light-chugging, Beantown-bred star of The Avengers is widely perceived as the ultimate guy's guy. But beneath the bro persona lies a serious student of Buddhism, an unrepentant song-and-dance man, and a guy who talks to his mom about sex. And farts.

By Adam Sachs,

Photographs by Norman Jean Roy

May 2012 Issue

"Should we just kill him and bury his body?" Chris Evans is stage whispering into the impassive blinking light of my digital recorder.

"Chris!" shouts his mother, her tone a familiar-to-anyone-with-a-mother mix of coddling and concern. "Don't say that! What if something happened?"

We're at Evans' apartment, an expansive but not overly tricked-out bachelor-pad-ish loft in a semi-industrial nowheresville part of Boston, hard by Chinatown, near an area sometimes called the Combat Zone. Evans has a fuzzy, floppy, slept-in-his-clothes aspect that'd be nearly unrecognizable if you knew him only by the upright, spit-polished bearing of the onscreen hero. His dog, East, a sweet and slobbery American bulldog, is spread out on a couch in front of the TV. The shelves of his fridge are neatly stacked with much of the world's supply of Bud Light in cans and little else.

On the counter sit a few buckets of muscle-making whey-protein powder that belong to Evans' roommate, Zach Jarvis, an old pal who sometimes tags along on set as a paid "assistant" and a personal trainer who bulked Evans up for his role as the super-ripped patriot in last summer's blockbuster Captain America: The First Avenger. A giant clock on the exposed-brick wall says it's early evening, but Evans operates on his own sense of time. Between gigs, his schedule's all his, which usually translates into long stretches of alone time during the day and longer social nights for the 30-year-old.

"I could just make this . . . disappear," says Josh Peck, another old pal and occasional on-set assistant, in a deadpan mumble, poking at the voice recorder I'd left on the table while I was in the bathroom.

Evans' mom, Lisa, now speaks directly into the microphone: "Don't listen to them—I'm trying to get them not to say these things!"

But not saying things isn't in the Evans DNA. They're an infectiously gregarious clan. Irish-Italians, proud Bostoners, close-knit, and innately theatrical. "We all act, we sing," Evans says. "It was like the fucking von Trapps." Mom was a dancer and now runs a children's theater. First-born Carly directed the family puppet shows and studied theater at NYU. Younger brother Scott has parts on One Life to Live and Law & Order under his belt and lives in Los Angeles full-time—something Evans stopped doing several years back. Rounding out the circle are baby sister Shanna and a pair of "strays" the family brought into their Sudbury, Massachusetts, home: Josh, who went from mowing the lawn to moving in when his folks relocated during his senior year in high school; and Demery, who was Evans' roommate until recently.

"Our house was like a hotel," Evans says. "It was a loony-tunes household. If you got arrested in high school, everyone knew: 'Call Mrs. Evans, she'll bail you out.'"

Growing up, they had a special floor put in the basement where all the kids practiced tap-dancing. The party-ready rec room also had a Ping-Pong table and a separate entrance. This was the house kids in the neighborhood wanted to hang at, and this was the kind of family you wanted to be adopted by. Spend an afternoon listening to them dish old dirt and talk over each other and it's easy to see why. Now they're worried they've said too much, laid bare the tender soul of the actor behind the star-spangled superhero outfit, so there's talk of offing the interviewer. I can hear all this from the bathroom, which, of course, is the point of a good stage whisper.

To be sure, no one's said too much, and the more you're brought into the embrace of this boisterous, funny, shit-slinging, demonstrably loving extended family, the more likable and enviable the whole dynamic is.

Sample exchange from today's lunch of baked ziti at a family-style Italian restaurant:

Mom: When he was a kid, he asked me, 'Mom, will I ever think farting isn't funny?'

Chris: You're throwing me under the bus, Ma! Thank you.

Mom: Well, if a dog farts you still find it funny.

Then, back at the apartment, where Mrs. Evans tries to give me good-natured dirt on her son without freaking him out:

Mom: You always tell me when you think a girl is attractive. You'll call me up so excited. Is that okay to say?

Chris: Nothing wrong with that.

Mom: And can I say all the girls you've brought to the house have been very sweet and wonderful? Of course, those are the ones that make it to the house. It's been a long time, hasn't it?

Chris: Looooong time.

Mom: The last one at our house? Was it six years ago?

Chris: No names, Ma!

Mom: But she knocked it out of the park.

Chris: She got drunk and puked at Auntie Pam's house! And she puked on the way home and she puked at our place.

Mom: And that's when I fell in love with her. Because she was real.

We're operating under a no-names rule, so I'm not asking if it's Jessica Biel who made this memorable first impression. She and Evans were serious for a couple of years. But I don't want to picture lovely Jessica Biel getting sick at Auntie Pam's or in the car or, really, anywhere.

East the bulldog ambles over to the table, begging for food.

"That dog is the love of his life," Mrs. Evans says. "Which tells me he'll be an unbelievable parent, but I don't want him to get married right now." She turns to Chris. "The way you are, I just don't think you're ready."

Some other things I learn about Evans from his mom: He hates going to the gym; he was so wound-up as a kid she'd let him stand during dinner, his legs shaking like caged greyhounds; he suffered weekly "Sunday-night meltdowns" over schoolwork and the angst of the sensitive middle-schooler; after she and his father split and he was making money from acting, he bought her the Sudbury family homestead rather than let her leave it.

Eventually his mom and Josh depart, and Evans and I go to work depleting his stash of Bud Light. It feels like we drink Bud Light and talk for days, because we basically do. I arrived early Friday evening; it's Saturday night now and it'll be sunup Sunday before I sleeplessly make my way to catch a train back to New York City. Somewhere in between we slip free of the gravitational pull of the bachelor pad and there's bottle service at a club and a long walk with entourage in tow back to Evans' apartment, where there is some earnest-yet-surreal group singing, piano playing, and chitchat. Evans is fun to talk to, partly because he's an open, self-mocking guy with an explosive laugh and no apparent need to sleep, and partly because when you cut just below the surface, it's clear he's not quite the dude's dude he sometimes plays onscreen and in TV appearances.

From a distance, Chris Evans the movie star seems a predictable, nearly inevitable piece of successful Hollywood packaging come to market. There's his major-release debut as the dorkily unaware jock Jake in the guilty pleasure Not Another Teen Movie (in one memorable scene, Evans has whipped cream on his chest and a banana up his ass). The female-friendly hunk appeal—his character in The Nanny Diaries is named simply Harvard Hottie—is balanced by a kind of casual-Friday, I'm-from-Boston regular-dudeness. Following the siren song of comic-book cash, he was the Human Torch in two Fantastic Four films. As with scrawny Steve Rogers, the Captain America suit beefed up his stature as a formidable screen presence, a bankable leading man, all of which leads us to The Avengers, this season's megabudget, megawatt ensemble in which he stars alongside Scarlett Johansson, Mark Ruffalo, Robert Downey Jr., and Chris Hemsworth.

It all feels inevitable—and yet it nearly didn't happen. Evans repeatedly turned down the Captain America role, fearing he'd be locked into what was originally a nine-picture deal. He was shooting Puncture, about a drug-addicted lawyer, at the time. Most actors doing small-budget legal dramas would jump at the chance to play the lead in a Marvel franchise, but Evans saw a decade of his life flash before his eyes.

What he remembers thinking is this: "What if the movie comes out and it's a success and I just reject all of this? What if I want to move to the fucking woods?"

By "the woods," he doesn't mean a quiet life away from the spotlight, some general metaphorical life escape route. He means the actual woods. "For a long time all I wanted for Christmas were books about outdoor survival," he says. "I was convinced that I was going to move to the woods. I camped a lot, I took classes. At 18, I told myself if I don't live in the woods by the time I'm 25, I have failed."

Evans has described his hesitation at signing on for Captain America. Usually he talks about the time commitment, the loss of what remained of his relative anonymity. On the junkets for the movie, he was open about needing therapy after the studio reduced the deal to six movies and he took the leap. What he doesn't usually mention is that he was racked with anxiety before the job came up.

"I get very nervous," Evans explains. "I shit the bed if I have to present something on stage or if I'm doing press. Because it's just you." He's been known to walk out of press conferences, to freeze up and go silent during the kind of relaxed-yet-high-stakes meetings an actor of his stature is expected to attend: "Do you know how badly I audition? Fifty percent of the time I have to walk out of the room. I'm naturally very pale, so I turn red and sweat. And I have to literally walk out. Sometimes mid-audition. You start having these conversations in your brain. 'Chris, don't do this. Chris, take it easy. You're just sitting in a room with a person saying some words, this isn't life. And you're letting this affect you? Shame on you.'"

Shades of "Sunday-night meltdowns." Luckily the nerves never follow him to the set. "You do your neuroses beforehand, so when they yell 'Action' you can be present," he says.

Okay, there was one on-set panic attack—while Evans was shooting Puncture. "We were getting ready to do a court scene in front of a bunch of people, and I don't know what happened," he says. "It's just your brain playing games with you. 'Hey, you know how we sometimes freak out? What if we did it right now?'"

One of the people who advised Evans to take the Captain America role was his eventual Avengers costar Robert Downey Jr. "I'd seen him around," Downey says. "We share an agent. I like to spend a lot of my free time talking to my agent about his other clients—I just had a feeling about him."

What he told Evans was: This puppy is going to be big, and when it is you're going to get to make the movies you want to make. "In the marathon obstacle course of a career," Downey says, "it's just good to have all the stats on paper for why you're not only a team player but also why it makes sense to support you in the projects you want to do—because you've made so much damned money for the studio."

There's also the fact that Evans had a chance to sign on for something likely to be a kind of watershed moment in the comic-book fascination of our time. "I do think The Avengers is the crescendo of this superhero phase in entertainment—except of course for Iron Man 3," Downey says. "It'll take a lot of innovation to keep it alive after this."

Captain America is the only person left who was truly close to Howard Stark, father of Tony Stark (a.k.a. Iron Man), which meant that Evans' and Downey's story lines are closely linked, and in the course of doing a lot of scenes together, they got to be pals. Downey diagnoses his friend with what he terms "low-grade red-carpet anxiety disorder."

"He just hates the game-show aspect of doing PR," Downey says. "Obviously there's pressure for anyone in this transition he's in. But he will easily triple that pressure to make sure he's not being lazy. That's why I respect the guy. I wouldn't necessarily want to be in his skin. But his motives are pure. He just needs to drink some red-carpet chamomile."

"The majority of the world is empty space," Chris Evans says, watching me as if my brain might explode on hearing this news—or like he might have to fight me if I try to contradict him. We're back at his apartment after a cigarette run through the Combat Zone.

"Empty space!" he says again, slapping the table and sort of yelling. Then, in a slow, breathy whisper, he repeats: "Empty space, empty space. All that we see in the world, the life, the animals, plants, people, it's all empty space. That's amazing!" He slaps the table again. "You want another beer? Gotta be Bud Light. Get dirty—you're in Boston. Okay, organize your thoughts. I gotta take a piss . . ."

My thoughts are this: That this guy who is hugging his dog and talking to me about space and mortality and the trouble with Boston girls who believe crazy gossip about him—this is not the guy I expected to meet. I figured he'd be a meatball. Though, truthfully, I'd never called anyone a meatball until Evans turned me on to the put-down. As in: "My sister Shanna dates meatballs." And, more to the point: "When I do interviews, I'd rather just be the beer-drinking dude from Boston and not get into the complex shit, because I don't want every meatball saying, 'So hey, whaddyathink about Buddhism?'"

At 17, Evans came across a copy of Hermann Hesse's Siddhartha and began his spiritual questing. It's a path of study and struggle that, he says, defines his true purpose in life. "I love acting. It's my playground, it lets me explore. But my happiness in this world, my level of peace, is never going to be dictated by acting," he says. "My goal in life is to detach from the egoic mind. Do you know anything about Eastern philosophy?"

I sip some Bud Light and shake my head sheepishly. "They talk about the egoic mind, the part of you that's self-aware, the watcher, the person you think is driving this machine," he says. "And that separation from self and mind is the root of suffering. There are ways of retraining the way you think. This isn't really supported in Western society, which is focused on 'Go get it, earn it, win it, marry it.'"

Scarlett Johansson says that one of the things she appreciates about Evans is how he steers clear of industry chat when they see each other. "Basically every actor," she says, "including myself, when we finish a job we're like, 'Well, that's it for me. Had a good run. Put me out to pasture.' But Chris doesn't strike me as someone who frets about the next job." The two met on the set of The Perfect Score when they were teenagers and have stayed close; The Avengers is their third movie together. "He has this obviously masculine presence—a dude's dude—and we're used to seeing him play heroic characters," Johansson says, "but he's also surprisingly sensitive. He has close female friends, and you can talk to him about anything. Plus there's that secret song-and-dance, jazz-hands side of Chris. I feel like he grew up with the Partridge Family. He'd be just as happy doing Guys and Dolls as he would Captain America 2."

East needs to do his business, so Evans and I take him up to the roof deck. Evans bought this apartment in 2010 when living in L.A. full-time no longer appealed to him. He came back to stay close to his extended family and the intimate circle of Boston pals he's maintained since high school. The move also seems like a pretty clear keep-it-real hedge against the manic ego-stroking distractions of Hollywood.

"I think my daytime person is different than my nighttime person," Evans says. "With my high-school buddies, we drink beer and talk sports and it's great. The kids in my Buddhism class in L.A., they're wildly intelligent, and I love being around them, but they're not talking about the Celtics. And that's part of me. It's a strange dichotomy. I don't mind being a certain way with some people and having this other piece of me that's just for me."

I asked Downey about Evans' outward regular-Joe persona. "It's complete horseshit," Downey says. "There's an inherent street-smart intelligence there. I don't think he tries to hide it. But he's much more evolved and much more culturally aware than he lets on."

Perhaps the meatball and the meditation can coexist. We argue about our egoic brains and the tao of Boston girls. "I love wet hair and sweatpants," he says in their defense. "I like sneakers and ponytails. I like girls who aren't so la-di-da. L.A. is so la-di-da. I like Boston girls who shit on me. Not literally. Girls who give me a hard time, bust my chops a little."

The chief buster of Evans' chops is, of course, Evans himself. "The problem is, the brain I'm using to dissect this world is a brain formed by it," he says. "We're born into confusion, and we get the blessing of letting go of it." Then he adds: "I think this shit by day. And then night comes and it's like, 'Fuck it, let's drink.'"

And so we do. It's getting late. Again. We should have eaten dinner, but Evans sometimes forgets to eat: "If I could just take a pill to make me full forever, I wouldn't think twice."

We talk about his dog and camping with his dog and why he loves being alone more than almost anything except maybe not being alone. "I swear to God, if you saw me when I am by myself in the woods, I'm a lunatic," he says. "I sing, I dance. I do crazy shit."

Evans' unflagging, all-encompassing enthusiasm is impressive, itself a kind of social intelligence. "If you want to have a good conversation with him, don't talk about the fact that he's famous" was the advice I got from Mark Kassen, who codirected Puncture. "He's a blast, a guy who can hang. For quite a long time. Many hours in a row."

I've stopped looking at the clock. We've stopped talking philosophy and moved into more emotional territory. He asks questions about my 9-month-old son, and then Captain America gets teary when I talk about the wonder of his birth. "I weep at everything," he says. "I emote. I love things so much—I just never want to dilute that."

He talks about how close he feels to his family, how open they all are with each other. About everything. All the time. "The first time I had sex," he says, "I raced home and was like, 'Mom, I just had sex! Where's the clit?'"

Wait, I ask—did she ever tell you?

"Still don't know where it is, man," he says, then breaks into a smile composed of equal parts shit-eating grin and inner peace. "I just don't know. Make some movies, you don't have to know…"

If someone doesn't want to check the link, the anon sent the full interview!

#chris evans #cevans #Details Magazine #2012 #interview

[georgemackayhey]

Hotter Than Summer

a/n: Remember when I promised more NSFW stuff? Yeah so this is by far the smuttiest thing I've ever written. Do Not interact with this is you're underaged. But if you're legal, have fun! 18+ only

w/c: 8k

───※ ·❆· ※───

Every year, you went on a trip with your family.

Your parents and siblings would cram into one car, and meet up with your neighbors in the countryside, under the same roof. A cabin that over looked a lake, that housed a forest, that wrapped all the way around to where you were.

You'd go in the dead of summer, when school let out. When the mosquitoes were rampant and the heat was crippling. You couldn't ever figure out what was so enjoyable about heading into the middle of no place to melt inside a rented home for a few weeks, but you went back each year. Of course, swimming in the lake was a blast and campefires at midnight were such fun. But that was mostly due to the fact that you got to spend such quality time with your favorite old neighbours.

Your fathers best university pal, and his wife only moved across the street when you were well into your high school career. But your dad was chuffed still to have his oldest friend one hop skip and jump away. Your mom was just as fond of the family, and soon you were sharing dinners and going to festivals and movies with them and their son, George.

When you met, you ignorantly assumed there was no way he wasn't a jock, or something equally as brain dead. No one with a face that pretty could possibly be smarter than a blade of grass.

But it wasn't long after they moved in, untill his parents asked you to show him around the school. And even though he was older and so vastly different from you, one morning, you found out George wasn't at all how you'd imagined. As you took him through the school halls, he went on and on about the theater program and marveled over your decently sized and poorly decorated library. He even thanked you for wasting your free break guiding him round to help him make sense of the schedule in his hands.

And after then, you had it bad. So that was precisely the reason you decided to steer clear. You gave small waves in the halls, and pretended not to scream internally when he sat next to you at lunch, every now and again. You went about your day pretending you were much more preoccupied with your other friends, and saved all your hopelessly romantic daydreams about George for your diary.

Until summer, of course. When you showed up to the cabin with your family and your siblings and some of their friends. George would be there, and you let yourself trail behind him like a puppy then. But he always asked for your company, really. He always dragged you to go swimming or to walk three miles to the nearest convenient shop for snacks. He'd sit next to you during rainy afternoon movie marathons and entertain all of your fireside ramblings.  

But it had been three years since you'd spent a summer in the cabin. Your last time was the summer after you graduated. George's last time was two years prior, and nothing had quite been the same since.

///

You knew he wouldn't be there, this year. You should have been off, just as well, drinking till dawn or whatever else college kids wasted evenings doing.

His parents were there, though, and spent at least a minute each hugging you hello. After then, you trekked through the familiar home, up to the room you always claimed as your own, and you pretended not to feel dramatically sad. And for the next week, you sat around the fireside with your siblings, and laughed at their dumb jokes. You swam in the lake all alone. And you listened to George's parents yammer on about how proud they were of all his latest and most admirable achievements.

The last day of your visit, you sat alone in the sun room with a book, but only used it as a fan while you reminisced of all the times you'd sat doing the same before.

"I don't know why we come here when it's this hot." You sighed across the table full of left over breakfast food. Your family had migrated toward the back garden to play volleyball, but you couldn't be bothered trudging through the heat.

"I've always wanted to come in the autumn, watch the leaves change, make better use of all this firewood." You never did, because that's when school started and holidays were left to plan in for insufferable days like now.

George's mother was setting a pitcher of spiked punch on the table, something she made every year you'd been old enough to enjoy in her company.

"You know, it's so funny you say that." She grinned, shooting you a bright glance as she moved to pour you a drink.

"Our Geogre will be home this fall and he was asking about heading up to the cabin." She began. You used your book fan with a little more vigour.

"We, unfortunately, won't be able to make that happen of course, with his father's job and my plans of travelling before snowfall." She rambled, the ice in her drink clinking as she raised it to her lips. Your family's laughter rang muffled from beyond the glass wall of windows that made up the breakfast nook. And the heat, like a blanket over you. Like a pool you stayed trapped drowning in.

"You know- you kids should come here on your own! You're plenty old enough now to handle that responsibility and you always were such good friends. I bet Georgie would just love that." His mother's smile was audible in her tone and beaming from her face. You tried not to gawk at her, not to scrabble to sit straight. You casually lowered your leg from the arm of the chair and looked to the woman with a turn of your head.

"Oh I don't know, do ya think-"

"Yes, yes!" She interrupted with a furrowed brow like this was very serious. "I'm meant to call him later. I'll pass the idea along for you, love."

With a soft grin, her mind was made up. You shrugged, hoping it would make her believe you wouldn't be let down either way. But you'd never wanted anything more.

///

She got through to George, and apparently, according to his mother, he very excitedly accepted the plans. You weren't too sure that was entirely true, but you couldn't help but do a little happy dance behind the closed doors of your cabin bedroom. It was always as you left it, green quilt, matching rug, and the few framed albums you hung to make up for the bland wallpaper.

You left it, thrilled by the thought of returning in two months, and stayed glued to your phone till then. Geogre was meant to text you when the time crept nearer for your roughly made plans to become a little more organized.

You weren't sure what you were so excited for. He'd probably bring a girl, or a least mention one. There was no way he didn't have his pick of dozens vying for his attention. Still, the idea of spending a weekend in the cabin in such close quarters with your old crush was thrilling.

///

He texted you a month before you ended up planning to stay, and your exchange was jarringly short. George shot you a date and time. You agreed. Then he asked if you minded if a couple of his friends tagged along. And of course, you didn't. And that was that.

The summer dragged on, and at the first sign of autumn in the air you practically had all your bags packed.

When the time came, you gave your family quick goodbyes and arrived to the cabin a couple of hours early. The air was crisp, and the lake looked cold from your safe distance away. You breezed through the thin fog and smiled to yourself when you stepped into the place.

Everything was just how you'd left it. There were even still a few notes tapped to the refrigerator. You moved through the wooden structure and noticed how high the ceilings were for the first time in a while. And after washing a few sheets, and sorting out some of the food you'd brought for dinner, your solitude was interrupted.

There was a rattle at the door, and when it opened your heart stopped. He was here. George was all grown up. You hadn't seen him since the last time he came out here with the lot of you, the summer after he graduated. Years had passed, and now his hair was a little longer. He was a little leaner, a little taller, maybe. His nose was reddened by the cold but his smile was familiar. You tried not to gape at him and the way he seemed like an actual supermodel while he rested his bag by the door and looked to you, his grin growing wider.

"Hello, stranger." You smiled.

"Y/n!" He called with outstretched arms. You abandoned your place at the stove to accept his embrace and prayed he wouldn't be able to feel your quickened heartbeat.

"George." You beamed. Because he was your friend. At least, he had been once. His smile remained as he wrapped a strong arm around your middle and mumbled a hello right in your ear.

"Where are all your friends, then?" You cleared your throat, trying everything to keep your cool. Did he really have to speak so low in your ear? This weekend might prove to be incredibly awkward...

"Ah, yeah, one cancelled and the other might just as well. He said he'd keep me updated." George winced, running a hand across the back of his neck. "Hope you don't mind boring old me?"

"Of course not." You produced a chuckle. "I'm just making dinner."

And just like that, it felt like old times. George took over the kitchen for a bit, while you bickered over spices and seasonings. And in between stirring up an evening meal, George tucked his bags away in the room he'd always stayed in, and came back to help you set the table.

Conversation never lost its steady pace. George asked you about your budding life after highschool. He asked what you were doing for money and what you dreamed of doing for good. He laughed at some of your best stories and started to trade some of his own.

You'd always felt a bit intimidated by George, but worse now than ever before. He was musing about Hollywood and rambling about his life on movie sets. You nodded along, and watched George's pretty structured face light up as he spoke of his dreams and how some of them had come true.

When you'd finished dinner, your nerves really started up. Here the two of you were, all alone for the first time, maybe ever. There was always someone else near by in your knowing each other. Whether it be here, back home, or at school. You weren't sure how to handle all the empty space, so to occupy your time, you started a fire in the den. It was a cozy little room where everyone usually spent movie nights curled up on the small sofa. You liked to come here to read, when the sun shone brightly through the picture windows.

But it was dark now, and the fire was small. So you stuck nearby to help make it grow and wondered why you and Geogre were here. You wondered if his friend would ever show. You wondered if he'd ever really invited anyone at all.

"I brought beer, but there was some rum stashed away," George spoke himself into the room, holding a bottle and a glass in hand. He held each out to you, offering you take your pick. You picked the rum and thanked him for thinking you might've wanted a choice.

"I think I know you pretty well after all this time." George grinned, sitting on the floor in front of the fire. You were stood there, watching the flames flicker higher, and it took an internal debate for you to sit at his side. Were you making things weird or had they been weird on their own? Just moments ago you were mulling over how normal everything felt. Yeah, must'a just been you.

"I dunno," You huffed as you crossed your legs. "I've changed a lot since the days we used to tolerate each others company."

"Tolerate?" George chuckled. "We both know half our stays in this cabin were made most enjoyable by all the times we band together. We always had such fun."

"We did. Do you think we're too old now to have fun, this time around?" You asked, taking a sip of the rum he offered you. George stalled for a beat, like he was really considering the answer to your question. And then he looked at you and shook his head.

"I hope not." His lithe grin made your throat go dry. So you finished off your rum and stood for a refill. When you settled back in the den, George was halfway through his beer, and you got to talking about life again. He told you the scariest stories of his time away, and you reminisced about some of the traumas of life you and Geogre had been caught up in together when he was only one house away. George went for another beer, and you stayed watching the fire steadily burn.

He returned in silence and the quiet lingered for a long while, with both of you fixated not the flames.

"Remember when you said you'd let me stow away in your luggage when you left, so I could skip out on my physics finale?" You laughed into your drink.  You felt George's eyes turn to search for your own, but you were still too deep in thought. "I failed that quiz, George. You were supposed to be my way out of this town."

"Hmm." George took a swig of his beer as you finished your second glass of rum. "Maybe that's why I've come back."

"That's rich." You chuckled and pointed a look to George. You couldn't hold back your nervous breaths of laughter now. Because he was watching you. His sea blue eyes seemed to search your face. You never recalled a time he looked at you with such undivided attention.

"What's so funny?" George rose a pale brow, taking another sip of beer. And as the answer formed on your lips, you blamed the rum entirely for your lack of critical thinking.

"I used to have the biggest crush on you." You admitted, turning a glance to George. His gaze had yet to break from your face, but you swore his smile grew ever so slightly. He furrowed his brow and shot you a sidelong look, like he didn't believe what you were saying.

"I did!" You laughed, the voice in your head reprimanding you for being so bold, as the words kept pouring out of your mouth. "You were my older, smoking hot neighbour boy. It was all very cliche but true." You shrugged. A blush burnt your cheeks and your mind suddenly caught up with your actions and you'd started to regret everything that had just transpired.

You mumbled a weary curse as you ducked your head away, hoping George wouldn't go on embarrassing you too much about this. You really hadn't planned to out yourself on the first night of your staying here with him. You hadn't planned to ever tell him that.

But George wasn't saying anything. He was just looking at you, like he had been. Like he was trying to figure you out. His eyes travelled from your face to search the reset of you. You watched George's gaze roam across your build while you tried not to combust in a self conscious worry. But the strange tension was too much not to break.

"What are you looking at me like that for?" You feared, hiding your bashful grin by lifting the nearly empty glass of rum to your lips.

"Because you're beautiful." George grinned, laughing a little like this was some big obvious fact.

"You're just tipsy." You shook your head, pointing to his empty bottle of beer and its half full replacement.

"No, you're just beautiful. You always have been." His tone grew more serious. You dared to catch his eye. The flames from a foot away were reflected in his gaze, and something else too. His eyes flicked away from yours to land on your lips. And his parted ever so slightly. If you hadn't dared to glimpse at his mouth, you wouldn't have noticed the way his jaw slacked.

His eye caught yours again and you realized he was moving closer. George was leaning in and your heart was beating a mile a minute and the fire seemed hotter than the dozen summers you'd wasted away here before.

His lips brushed yours before anything, and neither of you moved for a moment. His warm breath ghosted across your face and all your dreams seemed to suddenly come true as his mouth closed against yours.

Slowly, your lips started moving together. But they moved in perfect time, like they were made for it and waiting for this day to come true. George kissed you with a little more intent, as you kissed him back like you'd never get the chance to again. Because you had never once believed anything like this would happen with George. Maybe he was just tipsy. Or lonely. Or bored. You didn't care. You started to believe he had at least a little bit of actual interest in you, with the way he leaned closer and pressed his grip into your side. His tongue brushed against yours as his fingers started creeping closer to your chest. You wondered if he could feel your heart beating like a drum, and if his hand would ever reach its destination. You kissed him hard as encouragement, and he let out the sweetest whimper that would have made your eyes roll if they were open.

And then there was a knock at the door.

"Shit." You let out another nervous laugh, pulling away and catching your breath. You thought George's friends had all cancelled.

"I'm- I'm sorry." George shook his head, swiping hand at his lips and furrowing a brow at another knock on the door.

"Don't be?" You searched George's eyes for a moment and hoped he knew what you were asking. You hoped he watched as you hurried away. Had that really just happened? Had you just been bold enough to do the thing you'd wished of doing since sometime in high school? Was all the gentle passion in his kissing you back fueled by the drinks? Or had he really meant it?

The knocking kept on as you drifted closer. Geeze, for someone who wasn't sure about coming, they sure seemed excited to be here in the middle of the night. You adjusted yourself on the way to unlock the door, and tried not to blanch when you saw who was on the other side.

"Hi kids!" George's mother beamed, a bag in her arms. "My trip got cancelled and your folks weren't busy so we figured we'd come surprise you!"

The group of parents shuffled through the door. Your father toted a bottle of whiskey and your mother held a stack of films in her grasp. They each hugged you, and you scrambled to steady your tone.

"What a treat." You laughed through your teeth. The change in the pace of your evening could have given you whiplash.

"Oh, it's just like old times!" George's mother squealed, finding her son shuffling toward the kitchen to find what all the commotion was about.

"I suppose so." He grinned, accepting his mothers embrace and nodding as she explained that his father was too busy with work to crash the party. With all the tender sweetness you'd fallen for over the years, George said he understood but greeted his mother with kindness all the while. And as your parents rushed to pass hugs his way, George caught your eye. You wanted nothing more than to ask about the question in his gaze. But you feared your weekend with George wouldn't be as you'd once dreamed, like always.

///

You were glad to sit around the dying fire with your family. His mother's laugh was music to your ears. Your father's jokes had George doubled over with laughter. Your mother mused over and over about how glad she was for this surprise getaway.

And you couldn't be too upset, because you relished every moment you got to spend like this. Usually, this cabin was an escape, a place you could come without a care in the world. But now, there was a nagging little worry tumbling around your head, as everyone sat dragging the night on. Loose plans for the next day were made, talk of enjoying nature and making use of the big kitchen. You said something about sleeping in, because that was a rare occasion in your life these days. And here was a place where your wishes were supposed to be granted.

Your mother was the first to head to bed. The other adults decided to as well, but not before recruiting George to help clean up the kitchen neither of you had been very worried about taking total care of earlier in the evening.

You trudged up the stairs and took your turn in the shower, after wishing your mother a lovely night's sleep. She kept walking to the end of the hall, where she and your father enjoyed the best view just overtop of the forest of trees all around you.

While you washed up for the evening, your mind raced in every direction. What had just happened? And what was going to happen now? You'd been through all sorts of unexpected events with George, growing up. But never anything remotely close to... whatever this was. So far, this wasn't at all how you'd envisioned your long-awaited autumn visit in the countryside.

George's mother was soon making her way to bed too. She passed by as you opened the bathroom door and paused to give you a kiss on the cheek. You wished her goodnight and started your creep toward your own room. Before you could get there, George was walking with your father up the stairs, sharing chatter about a sports game from last year.

"Alright well, I'm off to clean up before bed." Your father noted, ruffling your hair on his way past. "Unless you need in here, George." Your father spun and pointed. There was another half bath downstairs, but the one on the second floor was the only one completed with a big shower and a separate tub.

"Ah, just holler when you're finished and I'll have a turn." George nodded as your father spun back toward the loo wishing you goodnight. You caught George's eye as you started back to your room, and prayed the creaking of the floorboard behind you were his footsteps and not just another one of your daydreams.

Sure, and strangely enough, a set of fingers curled around your wrist before you passed through your doorway.

"I believe we have some unfinished business." His voice muttered over your shoulder. Holy shit. How was this happening?

You didn't have time to waste questioning any longer. You only pulled George into the room you'd come to call your own, and shut the door with a gentle click that wouldn't cause any unwanted attention. No sooner than you had, George was on you.

His lips captured yours in a flash, like you'd been lost at sea and were only just being reunited. You threw your arms around his neck and barely held back a shocked giggle when George pulled you flush against him. You could have spent forever this way, in George's strong embrace, sharing the same breath.

He kissed you dizzy and spun you toward the wall. His hands found your chest at long last and he sighed against your mouth as you pulled him closer best you could. His hips pressed into yours and his hand trailed down your front, till his fingers stalled at the button of your sleep shorts.

"Can I?" He asked in a husky breath, looking right at you. You raised a brow, and gave him a nod, only just attempting to catch your breath. You could hardly believe it. But you'd never been more sure. George kept an eye on you for a beat, as you pressed your teeth to your lower lip. And when his hand started to move, you couldn't help but smile.

"Do you have any idea how badly I've always wanted to do this?" George asked, breathing in your ear as his hand disappeared below the fabric of your shorts. "For how long I've dreamed of having my way with you?" A shiver shot through you as he nipped at your neck. It was all very overwhelming. His word. His lips. His fingers, steadily starting to trace all the right places.

"Holy shit, George." You whined, gripping his shoulder for support from melting into a puddle on the floor.

"What? Am I doing alright?" He asked in a snide way, keeping his mouth pressed below your ear, and pressing his fingers against you with more vigour. Your breath caught at the feeling and George hummed happily against your throat.  His fingers travelled further, deeper, till there was no place left for them to go. And when he set his digits into motion, you couldn't help but let out a noise, a small broken cry that tore George's focus from your neck right to you. His fingers stopped moving and his free hand reached your jaw. He held your face in his grasp and seemed to stall a question on his lips. Then with a breath, George asked,

"You're not gonna keep quiet are you?" At the same moment he'd decided your reaction, his fingers started moving again, and his hand that held your jaw moved to cover your mouth.

"Still try, darling, this cabin isn't very big you know?" George grinned, putting his fingers to good use. Your eyes rolled back, and tried as you might, another cry escaped your throat when George picked up his pace. His one hand stayed firm over your mouth as he worked you up and whispered sinful encouragement in your ear. When you could barely feel the floor under your feet, a noise came from the hall. A knock on a distant door.

You groaned as George stalled, and chuckled at your disappointment. His free hand slid down to your throat and his fingers gently curled around there as his eyes watched yours. From behind your door and down the way you heard your father.

"George! Showers free. And don't forget to see your alarm. We're still hiking at dawn!"

You could have cried, really, when you realized your night of fun was halted till further notice. George slipped his fingers from your shorts as you sucked in a breath and let it out like a sigh.

"Don't worry love," George cooed. "I plan on taking good care of you... eventually." The fingers he'd been using found their way to your mouth. You watched his pretty blue eyes flutter as you wrapped your lips and swirled your tongue around his knuckles. You swore he almost reconsidered his leave. But then George straightened and backed away with a clenched jaw and a smile on his lips.

"Get some rest. We're hiking in the morning!" He announced with a wink as he reached for the handle of your door.

"Oh, fuck you." You grinned, feeling empty and full of fire all at once.

"With any luck." George said, before shutting the door behind him.

///

"It's too high!" You worried, searching for a broad rock to step down onto. You and your family had found yourselves at the top of the trail that wound through the forest. But had decided to take a different route back down, around the lake.

"Here look, step there." George spoke up, from the bottom of the path that was broken up. He pointed to a patch of dirt you envisioned crumbling the moment you relied on it. Your mother tutted, and moved past you to take George's advice. Your lovely neighbour extended his hand to your mother who managed her way to safety with his help. Your father followed, helping George's mother, until you were the last one left.

They all stared up at you as you bit your nails and mulled over your game plan.

"Right- we're walkin' on. Get her off, George." Your father waved and turned to follow your mother and George's, who were already ahead gossiping about some tv show. You struggled to hide your blush as Geogre shifted his weight and grinned up to you.

"Do you trust me?" He asked.

"Obviously." You pointed. George reached out, and you held your breath, and stepped where everyone else had. George's hand was strong, but your prediction came true. As you balanced your weight on the patch of dirt, it began to give way. But George was there. He swept you away with ease and balanced you on both feet on the same level of ground as him.

"Did you just want me to save you all along?" George mused, keeping his arms snug around you as you stood.

"Come on." You bit back a smile and pushed George to lead the way, noticing your folks posed for a self at the opening of a man-made bridge.

You all walked on, till you spotted a weather-worn gazebo near the opening of the lake. The sun was unusually bright for the seasons, though a chill balanced in the air. Your gang stalled to rest in the small enclosure and laughed about the adventure you'd been on, and how none of you had ever realized this little nook was out here in all the years you'd been staying right around the bend.

George's mother was the first to head in, saying something about a midday nap. You didn't blame her. You all really had risen with the sun to enjoy the trails before a late lunch. Your mother was next to leave, mentioning just that. Her plans to make a big ridiculous afternoon meal that would likely count as some kind of dinner,  too. Your father followed after her, paranoid about the trek from out of the woods alone.

George stayed and shot you a look as you watched everyone walk away, and turn around the lake. And for a moment, you just talked. Like how you always used too. About life and death and everything in between. All while each pause between topics grew long and heavy.  Soon, you rose from the bench, tired of sitting, but excited to find yourself lingering out here in the sole company of the man you'd been dreaming of keeping all to yourself.

"Do you prefer it here in the summer, or now?" You wondered aloud, because you really wanted to know. The area you'd come to know so well seemed like a different world in the cold.

George followed your ambling, back down the skinny trail from where you'd just come. He waited to respond until he stepped to face you and stalled your meander.

"Now." George smiled, searching your eyes and pushing his nose against yours. The action made your heart flutter and your fists curl in the pockets of your jacket. Then he kissed you so tenderly, like you'd kissed thousands of times before and he was used to the sensation. You, however, were still dazzled by it. Your hands flew up and clung to the jacket he'd left unzipped. You kissed him back like this was your last chance to prove how badly you'd always wanted too. At your fervour, George snaked his arms around you. One of his hands tangled in your hair as his other trailed to your backside.

You had no excuse to hold back your pleased sighs, as George pressed against you, digging his fingers into your thigh and pulling it nearer to his hip. Your own hands started to wander, right between his legs. George let out a groan as you pressed your palm against his tight jeans, and you thought of doing it again just to hear his reaction. But you had something better in mind.

You broke your kiss and grabbed both of George's hands. He watched as you dragged him a little deeper into the green, and fell against a wide tree when you pushed his toward it.

When you started to fiddle with his belt buckle and bend your knees, George flushed and gapped at you.

"Here?" He asked with a nervous grin, looking much more innocent and shy than he'd appeared last night. Maybe ever.

"Would you rather trade bakewell recipes, George?" You asked with a snicker, sitting back against your heels and peering up to him. "We really don't have to, though." You spoke again with a serious nod, making sure he knew you really didn't want to do anything he didn't want to. But damn, you really wanted this.

"I'd really like if we did." George swallowed, and your grin stretched back to life. "I was just surprised is all."

"Why? Don't you think I'd like to show you as good a time as you started to show me last night?" You unzipped his trousers and kept your gaze fixed to George.

"I promise to make it up to you." He breathed as you started to pull at his boxers.

"You already are." You assured, just before the time for talk had ceased. Your mouth had better things to do.

When George lost his fingers in your hair, and tugged, you were motivated to deepen your interaction. Then you got to hear the way George whined and hissed and cursed your name under his breath. Even if you could reach your free hand to his lips, you couldn't dream of keeping George quiet. His sounds were the sweetest encouragement you'd ever known.

You stayed on your knees until your efforts paid off. Then you helped George pull his trousers back in shape as you rose to meet him, and were pleasantly surprised when he grabbed your face and kissed you. But when his hand started to trail below your waste you broke your kiss and shook your head.

"We don't have time." You sighed, brushing back some of George's unkempt blonde waves.

"But-" His perfect pale brows furrowed and his thumb brushed your cheek.

"It's okay. We'd better get going." You nodded. George nodded too, but then stole another quick kiss. It made you wonder what this was about. It made you wonder what George thought of you, and what he thought of you with him. You didn't let yourself wonder long. The sky was starting to darken with clouds. So you brushed the dirt from your knees and let George lead the way back to the cabin, biting back your broad grin every time he turned to make sure you were close behind.

///

The next morning was spent lazing about the breakfast table as a drizzle locked you all in. Your parents were each still in the kitchen, arguing over cinnamon rolls and other breakfast treats.

"I always wanted to come here to watch the leaves change." You piped up, setting a steaming coffee mug to the side, with your gaze stuck out the rain covered window. George sat by your side, with his head in the crook of his elbow on the table.

"We must have come too early in the year." You sighed, searching for a glimpse of orange or yellow in the distance. All you saw was brown and green against a dull grey sky.

"Well," George spoke up, quietly so. You lowered your eyes to find his, and fixated on his small grin. "That just means we'll have to come back."

"Yeah?" You hesitated to ask. What had he meant? Why had he said so? George only rested his hand on your thigh below the table, tracing patterns on your knee with his thumb. You kept your gaze on him and realized you had fallen hard and fast.

You'd always had it bad for George, but with all this new and very exciting attention he'd been giving you, it was game over. You'd thought of nothing but George each night you fell asleep one room over. Your heart practically leapt out of your rib cage every time you caught his eye across the room, since the beginning of the weekend.

But you didn't understand it. Neither of you talked about what you'd done or mentioned doing anything quite like it again. You just waited up in empty halls and hoped he'd come around the corner in the least suspicious amount of time possible.

But today was hard. Today you couldn't sneak out in the woods, or around the corner. You were trapped in by rain, and if you and George snuck behind closed doors there wouldn't be a question as to why, and that would be utterly embarrassing.

So you sat across from George as your father rallied everyone around an old tattered board game. You caught George's eye as your parents bickered over game rule, and wondered what he was thinking as his pretty blue gaze locked on yours.

When you followed your mother's instructions to go and find a stack of movies in her room, George's mother shuffled off to go make snacks. So your favourite pretty blonde said something about taking a shower, and followed as you trekked up the stairs. But no sooner than you found the stack of movies, and George lingered outside of the bathroom did your father spin into the hall in search of his glasses.

You and George only got to share a look before he shut the bathroom door, and your father recruited you to help in his hunt.

As you all curled up for a movie marathon, Geogre helped you pour everyone a drink. While he reached for a set of glasses, he sneaked past you with one hand grazing your lower back for as long as he could get away with.

And when your parents took residence on the love seat and his mother kicked back in the chair, you and George were left to make the floor comfortable. You dumped all the extra blankets in front of the coffee table and sat a few inches away from George while some romcom played on. It was almost painful, how close he was without being able to reach out. What a strange turn of events.

His mother fell fast asleep by the second film, and your parent's dozed off by the third.

And as the last film played on, you felt George's hand creeping closer to yours. His fingers fit between your own, and his thumb brushed against your knuckles every now and again, as you sat holding hands.

You hadn't really seen that coming. You hadn't known what to expect of this whole thing with George, but an innocent lasting touch wasn't it. All the questions you'd always wondered were louder and scarier as the movie dragged on.

And when it was over, George walked you up the stairs. You kept quiet as not to wake your parents, and watched as he moved in the dark. When he stalled in the doorway of your room, you gazed up to him with a pushed in brow. Then he kissed you. Just a gentle, lingering peck. He left you in your doorway with that, and you stayed up staring at your ceiling wondering why.

///

Your parents left the next morning. They hadn't planned too. But your father got a call from work and since they'd all arrived as a group they decided to leave that way. You had awoken early and found yourself staring at the pages of a book when your mother bustled down the stairs to let you know.

"We'll see you kids at the start of the week!" George's mother waved on her way out of the door. She hoped you'd both enjoy the last day of the weekend in the cozy little place you'd always come back to.

Your parents scrambled to pack their things and followed her out of the door in a dazed rush, rambling about how they wished they didn't have to leave as they headed to the door.

Just like that the cabin was quiet, more so than you'd ever noticed, even when you'd been the only one creeping through the halls. You had no idea what to expect. You didn't want to get your hopes up. And you didn't want to make this already strange situation even weirder. So you took to doing the dishes at the sound of your parents peeling out of the gravel drive. You scrubbed every plate and focused on every soap bubble to stall time as you thought up what to say.

One of you had to say something, right?

When the staircase finally creaked, you'd finished the leftover dishes and were nearly done sorting the last of them away. George stretched into the room, looking around to realize the cabin was missing your surprise guests.

"Dad got called into work. You just missed telling everyone goodbye." You shrugged, meeting George's eye for a moment before you spun to put the last dish away. You listened as he softly floated toward the space you occupied yourself.

"So I finally get you all to myself then?" George seemed to really ask. He looked tired, still. But there was a gentle smile on his face, some kind of hopeful glaze painted over his features. George reached out to you, both of his hands softly holding your face. He peered at you, searching your features as his thumb traced your bottom lip.

"You really wanna spend the rest of this weekend with me?" You wondered, ducking your head as a twinge of fear started to take hold. But Geogre straightened your gaze once more, he made you look at him as he chose his words.

"I'd like to spend much longer than just this weekend with you," He spoke gently like every word was precious. You couldn't possibly think of what to say. You could only smile. You grinned without holding back and watched as George shut his eyes and kissed you.

You kissed him back and decided the pouring rain was cause enough to start a fire. George trailed behind you on your mission to throw a few logs in the fireplace. When you turned from sparking a flame, you watched George settle onto the floor that was still a mess with blankets and pillows from last night's movie marathon. He reached up to you, fingers moving from their latch on your wrist to press into your sides as he pulled you right into his lap.

Just like that his arms were around you and his mouth opened against yours. The fire was nice, but the warmth coming from George was heavenly. You moved your kisses to his neck, relishing the way his pulse beat under your touch. You trailed your lips back across his jaw until you were kissing him again, and dissolving in his strong hold.

You held his face in your hands as your mouths moved together, and only released your grasp to raise your hands over your head as George lifted your sweater up and away. His kisses trailed across your exposed skin, to the swell of your breasts, while his fingers managed to unclasp your bra. With your knees on either side of his hips, you rocked against George, feeling more desperate for his touch than ever.

"Are you sad your friends ditch you?" You asked in a breath with a smile and George was busy pressing his tongue to your skin. You felt him smile, and the warmth of a chuckle escape him.

"Are you glad our parents came and ruined our chances of spending the whole weekend this way?" George shot back, as you pulled his shirt away. You rolled your eyes and pushed George back against a stack of pillows, reaching for his belt. You laughed as he kicked his trousers away and pulled you down for a kiss, like he couldn't fathom parting from you for a second.

You spent a while wrapped up in his tangled limbs- kissing him, trailing your fingers against his burning skin, rocking against each other while the last of your layers kept you from doing what you really wanted.

"You know, I always had a crush on you, too." George propped himself up on both elbows as you'd started to pull his boxers away. You paused your mission for a moment to look at him. His half-lidded gaze and the mess of his hair. The marks starting to darken on near his throat, from you. He was more beautiful each new time you caught a glimpse, it seemed.

"Sentiment not required, but appreciated." You grinned as George sat up, free of the last of his clothes, reaching to free you of your own with his sea blue eyes on yours all the while.

"I did." He rose a brow, and something about his confirming so made your heartache, as it already beat like a drum. You brushed back his tousled waves and searched George's face for approval. He blinked up at you, totally enraptured. You could have stayed in this paused state forever and you swore he might have been content, too. But you couldn't wait any longer. You'd waited long enough.

When you lowered yourself into George's lap, you watched his eyes close and his jaw slack. A sigh escaped his lips, like he was totally relieved. And not just by the pressure you'd both felt now, but by the build-up of this whole weekend. Like something from very deep within him was finally settled. You might have laughed a little at that state of him if you weren't feeling the same. You'd never felt so safe. A strange word for a time like now, but the only word that seemed to fit.

Neither of you moved for a while. At first, you'd focused on settling into the feeling. Then you became totally distracted, brushing back George's hair and peppering his face with kisses. His hands stayed loose around your sides and his nose nudged your own in a way that made your heart sing.

"As much as I love this, I really would like if you moved a little, dove." George cooed in your ear and kneaded his fingers into your hips hoping you'd get the hint.

So you did what he said, and rolled against him. George kept his grip firm as he let out one of those melodious groans of his. You picked up the pace then, not daring to hold back your own hums as George's eyes opened to find yours.

You shared another kiss as you found your rhythm, but couldn't keep it up for long. Your lips parted but lingered close to his when you couldn't hold back a broken cry.

George wrapped an arm around your middle and moved swiftly to lay you down. You watched as he loomed over you and searched your features like he did the first night here. You were in the same place as you had been when you confessed your stupid crush. And you were in the same spot you had been when he kissed you for the first time. And when he closed the distance between you once more, it felt better than ever.

You pressed your heels into his back and tried to tell him how fucking great he was at this, but incoherent mumbles were all you could manage.

"That good, huh?" George strained, barely getting the words out himself. But the little laugh that followed his statement seemed easy and sweet. As if you weren't feeling enough, your heart threatened to burst. Everything felt near bursting, actually.

"It's okay, baby." His saccharine voice rang in your ear as he somehow pushed you deeper into the mess of blankets. "It's just you and me now, and you feel so fucking good. You can let go now, love. I wanna feel you to let go."

He could have kept up talking that way and you'd fall to pieces in no time. But when his hand travelled below your stomach you nearly k.o'ed. Between the things he spoke just to you, the way he paused talking to curse a little, and the rhythm of his hips against yours, it didn't take long until you came undone. He kept you pinned in place until you nearly couldn't see straight until it seemed he couldn't either. When it was all said and done, neither of you moved for a moment. You were less irked by the fact you could have been doing that all weekend, and more moonstruck by the reality that it'd happened at all.

///

It wasn't long before you decided to get cleaned up, but it took awhile to get to the bathroom. George stopped you in the hallway to do everything over again, somehow better than the first time. He stopped you from finding clean clothes to pin you to the bed you'd called your own. You tangled your fingers in his hair as he made his way between your thighs, and made you forget all about doing anything else for the rest of the evening.

And when you finally made it to the bathroom, he followed you into the warm bath. But there, you only relaxed. The water soothed your aching muscles, and the whiskey your dad left behind was passed over the bubbles as you and George sat together till the water grew cold. You talked as you cleaned yourself up, about things you'd always talked about before. You watched as George changed into a pair of joggers you recognized from days gone by. You let him wrap you up in a towel and hold you close in the steam-filled bathroom, and you decided it was paradise.

Your night went on like normal. Like most nights had, in the cabin. You made dinner, and joked about the time your siblings nearly burnt the place down making cookies during a heatwave. And after you ate, you left the dishes for another day, like always. Then you followed George to the den, and watched as he turned the telly on to some slasher marathon. Your autumn dreams were alive and well, as you curled up on the sofa at his side.

You stayed happily tucked against him, one arm and leg across his frame. One of his strong arms nearly pulled you on top of him in an effort to cuddle close as possible. You nuzzled your face into his neck when something especially upsetting flashed across the screen. And eventually, the comfort of his secure hand splayed across your head, and his other arm holding you firmly in place, sent you into the most peaceful sleep you must have ever slipped into.

///

"Wake up, love."

Your eyes were heavy, and your limbs ached. The blankets felt so warm in the morning cold, and George's breath tickled your ear.

"My darling, wake up." He said again, tracing a finger along your jaw as your eyes fluttered open.

"M'up." You sighed, focusing on George's pretty face, his brilliant blue eyes and the easy smile on his full lips. You realized he wasn't curled close, but kneeling at your side like he'd been up for a while now.

"Come and see." His smile widened as he grabbed your hand and tugged you to stand. You pushed in your brows and only sat up so quickly because of George's unusual excitement. He kept your hand in his and dragged you across the room to the fog tinted windows. What time was it? George moved you to the clearest view, and snaked his arms around your middle from behind.

You rubbed your eyes and looked. And past the mist, you saw the trees. Among the usual green and grey, you saw spots of dark red and orange starting to appear. The further you looked the more colours you noticed, and then you realized George had noticed before you.

"Now we know." He mumbled in your ear, as you tore your gaze from the stunning view to look over your shoulder. George really did get prettier with every glance. And now you knew, indeed. You knew how he felt, and you knew you'd get to go home with him as more than neighbours. You knew the perfect time to come back to this cabin, too, when the colours were brightest and the fire's warmth would be most coveted. And you knew George would come back with you. The only thing you weren't sure of was which room you'd stay in together, in all the years to come.

───※ ·❆· ※───

#george mackay #george mackay fanfic #george mackay imagine #george mackay x reader

[amphxtrite]

oliver wood x fem!reader to cedric diggory x fem!reader

warnings: angst, slut shaming, spelling/ grammar mistakes.

summary: you’ve had a crush on Oliver Wood for so long, but he continuously treats you badly. What happens when you’ve had enough, and who will help you through it.

a/n: I love Ollie, but this idea came to me, and I really liked it.

word count: 2.9k

“sometimes it’s better to let go than to hold on.”

enjoy <3

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Quidditch was your favourite activity. You’d loved it since you were just a little kid, watching from the stands as men and women flew around a stadium playing the most wonderful game you’d ever come to know. You spent most of your childhood begging your parents, day and night to teach you how to fly, knowing they couldn’t say no to you forever. For your ninth birthday they bought you your first broom and it was one of the happiest moments of your life.

“Happy birthday dear y/n, happy birthday to you.” Your family and friends finish your birthday song. You flash a toothy grin before closing your eyes, making a wish and blowing out the nine bright flames on your cake. Your mum retrieves a knife and begins to slice the cake as you and your friends begin to chat. 

Your dad walks up to you, holding something behind his back. He kneels down to your level, “y/n sweetie, your mum and I have thought about it, and we believe it’s about time we gave you this.” He smiles, handing you a long object hidden in silver wrapping paper. You look down at the object confused, but when you wrap your small fingers around it, you immediately know. Your eyes widen and you rip off the paper. You were right, in your hands was a beautiful, sleek broom. “It’s a bit big for you, but you’ll grow into it.” Your mom laughs, coming in behind you and wrapping an arm around your shoulders. You don’t hesitate to bring her and your father into a hug, thanking them over and over again for your gift. Happy tears spilling from your e/c eyes. 

When you received your letter to Hogwarts in the coming years you made it your goal to become the captain of the quidditch team of whatever house you were sorted into. In two years, your parents had taught you all their tips and tricks for navigating on your broom. You picked up quickly and worked hard to add to the talent you already had. When you arrived at Hogwarts, bright eyed and excited to learn, you were sorted into hufflepuff, the house of the loyal and hard-working. You found this a good fit, you got started right away for a good reputation and waited patiently for second year, when you could finally try out.

When the fateful day rolled around you were one of the first people on the pitch for try-outs, the captain being the only other person there, she found your enthusiasm adorable and quickly became like the older-sister you never had. As the try-outs began, she was skeptical with your skill as you were only in your second year, but she learned that you were not only enthusiastic about quidditch, but your skills were unmatched. She was quick to make you a chaser, your fast skills and sleek tricks making you the perfect candidate. You helped the team to the best of your abilities not only playing well and helping them to victory, but also having a cheery personality, making friends with all the players and comforting the team after losses. You became the hufflepuff quidditch team’s darling. Your happy personality and love for quidditch made it impossible for anyone not to be drawn to you, but, you guessed it, there was a catch. The happiest people still have a reason to frown and your reason was Oliver Wood. 

He’d been your first crush at Hogwarts. You first saw him at a gryffindor vs slytherin match, a keeper and a mighty good one. He was so fast and had incredible skill, you couldn’t help but catch feelings for the handsome brunette. You decided you wanted to talk to him. 

It was hard since you were in different houses and different years, but you tried. Before a match against gryffindor one day, you caught up with a couple of your pals, Fred and George Weasley, to ask them about Oliver. “Hey Fred, Hey George!” You called out to them while they made their way to the changerooms. “Hey y/n, what brings you over here?” Fred smiles over at you. “Just wanted to wish good luck to my favourite twins of course, you’ll need it.” You laugh, reaching up to rustle their short red hair. The twins laugh. “There’s something else I can tell.” George narrows his eyes at you and you grin a bit. “Okay you got me. There is something.” Fred nods for you to go on. “Can you tell me a bit about Oliver?” The twins look to each other, sharing a similar cringe on their faces. “Oliver? As in Oliver Wood,” Fred questions. You nod. “You don’t fancy him do you y/n?” George asks, cocking an eyebrow. “I might think he’s cute.” You grin sheepishly. “Listen y/n.” George rubs the back of his neck. “Oliver’s a great lad, but he’s not someone I’d try and have a relationship with, at least not right now.” He concludes. You look at him confused. “Well he is two years older than us and he’s a bit… Intense.” Fred finishes for him. Right as you open your mouth to ask for details, the man himself Oliver Wood comes marching through the change room doors and looks at the twins. “What are you two doing out here talking to our rival? Come on they’re about to talk strategy and I wouldn't’ want a stupid hufflepuff hearing it.” He spits the word hufflepuff out like it was poison. 

You feel your confidence falter and tears prick your eyes. “Come on now Oliver, she’s our friend, no need to get aggressive.” Fred tries to reason with Oliver, noticing the sadness on your face. Oliver simply rolls his eyes and steps back inside, shouting a quick hurry up. The twins look at you apologetically, you wave them off and start to walk to your own team's changeroom, disappointment written on your face. 

Even after hufflepuff won the match, you didn’t feel like celebrating, as soon as your seeker caught the snitch you were ecstatic but, Oliver had walked past you on your way out of the pitch, muttering ‘stupid hufflepuff, I’ll bet she was listening to us.’ That cut deep, leaving a permanent frown on your face even while the rest of your house partied. 

You were now in your fifth year and had been appointed captain of the hufflepuff team, after most of your teammates graduated, and you were overjoyed. You’d spent the whole summer thinking up strategies and new tactics and now you would be able to try them out. Throughout the school your friends had given you pats on the back and congratulations, they knew you’d been working on this since you stepped in the Hogwarts walls, and they were happy for you. Oliver on the other hand acted as though he was furious you’d achieved your goal. You had lost feelings for the keeper over summer but he continued with the constant ridiculing ever since that game all those years ago, calling you fake, not even that good, or just saying outright untrue things about you to anyone who would listen, and even though you didn’t fancy him anymore the comments still cut deep. It brought sadness to you every time you heard he’d mock you. You used to cry over these things, but you learned to build a wall to protect yourself from Oliver’s judgement. It was his last year anyways. You wouldn’t have to deal with his bullying any longer. 

“I heard y/n shagged the last captain to get the position she’s in now, what a whore.” You hear a voice whisper, Oliver. You sigh. It was going to be a long year. 

Practice with your new team was fun, making sure the new members felt welcome and running over old strategies with ones who’d been on the team in previous years. You were having a blast with everyone, until a voice called out. “Beat it puffs! We’ve got the pitch today.”

 You sigh, apologizing to Cedric who you were conversing with and flying down to meet the angry gryffindor. 

“I’m sorry Oliver, but I got the pitch booked with Sprout yesterday.” You pull out the slip of parchment residing in your pocket. “Doesn’t matter, I’ve got new players too y’know.” He scoffs his thick Scottish accent rolling off his tongue. “We’ve only just started, listen if you can give me an ho-” Oliver rolls his eyes and cuts you off. “I don’t care l/n, I don’t listen to little fakers who buy their way into positions and shag their way into captain.” He remarks, looking bored. Blood rushes to your face in anger and sadness. You drop your broom as your hand goes limp, your head hung down, not wanting him to see your tears. “What’s wrong l/n, you gonna cry?” 

Cedric touches down and tries to pull you away, but you’re frozen trying to blink the tears out of your eyes. 

“Oliver that’s enough.” Fred pushes his way to the front and puts his hand on Oliver’s shoulder. The gryffindor captain rolls his eyes. “Why are you defending the slut? You know I’m not wrong, she doesn’t deserve anything she has now.” He laughs a little.

You feel yourself burst.

“What the hell did I do to you?!” You lift your face and scream, letting the tears of anger and sadness slip down your face. “What did I do, that was so bad, so terrible, that made you want to bully me since I was twelve?!” You march closer to him, letting him see the pain he caused you. “I’ve barely spoken to you once and you built up this, this hate for me. Calling me fake, a slut, that I don’t deserve what I have. Do you know how hard I’ve worked for all this? Practicing daily, keeping up with school work, getting injured and hurt in games AND dealing with your ridiculing?!” You shout, letting years of anger be expressed, you see a flash of regret in the seventh year's eyes, but you couldn’t care less. “I wanted to be your friend Oliver, but without getting to know me you spread rumors about me, call me names, and you don’t care! I’m sick of being quiet about it, why can’t you just leave me alone!?” You finish. Oliver is stunned to silence letting your words sink in. You were right, he knew that, he never did get to know you. He just didn’t know how else to deal with the weird emotion he got when he saw you or the way his stomach burst into butterflies when he heard you laugh. So he shoved his emotions to the side and tried to convince himself you were this horrible person in order get rid of the feeling, but it never worked, so he continued, always hoping you’d brush it off and move on, but here he was standing shocked in front of you as tears ran down your red cheeks. He realized then that the feeling inside him was love, but it was far, far too late. You ran, ran away from him, any hope he was a good person and the idea that the two of you could be together one day. You ran from the toxicity of the way Oliver treated you and you ran from being hurt anymore. 

“You’re a piece of shit, you know that Wood. Y/n has done nothing to you and you treat her like the scum at the bottom of your shoe, I hope you’re happy with yourself.” Cedric shouts at the shocked gryffindor. The sixth year hufflepuff had watched you pine over Oliver since he was in his third year. He had a massive crush on you, but could never say anything in fear he’d ruin your friendship. He’d watched Oliver mistreat you for years, and watched as you held onto the hope he’d change, but Oliver had gone to the last straw and he couldn’t hold back his feelings anymore. He calls down the rest of the team and turns back to the gryffindors. “Enjoy the pitch.” Cedric says sarcastically to Oliver, patting him on the shoulder with a menacing smile, before turning and running after you. 

The rest of the team didn’t feel like playing anymore. Feeling sick to their stomachs after this encounter. Oliver turns around, but no one will look him in the eyes. Even the twin’s usual happy demeanor is gone and they’re glaring daggers into Oliver. “You fucked up, you know that right? You know, y/n had a crush on you since the second year, but your egotistical ass couldn't see how great of a person she is and instead ruined any chances of ever being with her, can’t believe she’d see something in someone like you.” Fred seethed, no one talked to his friends like that. He and George storm away and the rest of the team turn and follow, throwing disapproving looks at Oliver. Fred was right. You were right. He was the biggest idiot in the world, and now he’d have to deal with the consequences.

Cedric found you running into an empty girls washroom, he didn’t want to intrude, but he knew it was empty, and he knew you needed help. He steps inside and doesn’t hesitate to run to you and wrap you into his arms. You hug back and sob into Cedric’s shoulder. “W-what did I do w-wrong?” You sniffle and cry into his quidditch robes. “Nothing love, nothing. He’s an arsehole and doesn’t deserve you. He’s an idiot, walking around with a broomstick up his ass.” he smiles when he hears a small giggle from you. “You’re right Ced, he does look like he’s got a stick up his ass when he walks.” You stop crying to laugh a bit, wrapping your arms tighter around Cedric’s torso. 

“Listen, you're perfect darling, and if he can’t see it, I know I can.” Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Cedric takes a deep breath before continuing. “I know this isn’t the best time, but Merlin y/n, I’ve fancied you since the day I saw you do quidditch try-outs, zipping around like a pro on your broom, showing up everyone else on that pitch,” he sighs. “I saw you fall in love with Wood, pine over him even though he treats you like trash and push off his comments about you. Y/n, you’re so strong, so kind, so beautiful, so smart. Don’t let someone like Oliver get you down. He’ll never be worth it.” He finishes, gliding his thumb up and down your face. You blush. “Thank you Cedric, but I don’t know if I’m ready yet.” You sniffle, looking guilty. Cedric smiles. “I’ll wait for you darling, no matter how long it takes. I’ll be here with arms wide open.” He holds you tighter, kissing the top of your head. You smile. “Thank you Cedric, so much. I will come around I promise.” You sniffle before laughing into his shoulder. 

You knew then that you found the person you were really supposed to be with for the rest of your life. Cedric brought smiles to your face, while Oliver brought tears. Cedric admired your skills and knowledge, while Oliver doubted them. Cedric made you feel happy, supported, smart, beautiful. Things Oliver could never, and you realized. Sometimes it’s better to let go, than to hold on.

Oliver watched from the side as you fell in love with Cedric. Watched as the hufflepuff golden boy walked you to class, sat with you at lunch, hugged you after games and supported your dreams. Oliver did his best to move on, but was reminded daily of what he lost. Fred and George never looked at him the same, he saw you smile and laugh with Cedric by your side. That should be him, he thinks to himself a lot. If he had been kind, talked to you, got to know you. Maybe he would be the man you hugged, kissed, loved. The man who was by your side. He lost his chance and all he could do now was watch as you fell in love with someone new. 

Cedric Diggory had filled the hole in your heart Oliver had left. He showed you what real love felt like and showed you how you should be treated, and in the end, you did come around. After Cedric had caught the snitch in a match against slytherin you flew up to him, grabbed his shirt and tugged him towards you, letting your lips crash against his for everyone to see. It only lasted a couple seconds, but it warmed you to the core, sealing the realization Cedric was the one for you, it brought a smile across your face. “Did I do it?” Cedric’s grin grows impossibly wide as he takes your hand in his. He just won the match and the girl of his dreams! He had to be imagining things. “You did.” You confirm, squeezing his calloused fingers. Cedric laughs and whoops in celebration, pulling you around the pitch in a victory lap, holding your hand for all to witness before the two of you touched down. Cedric brings you in for another kiss, and the spectators roars in excitement. The brunette smiles into your lips, and as you pull away you whisper into his ear. “Thank you Cedric, for showing me true love.” 

And all Oliver could do was regret

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