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astranite · 4 months

Text

Exactly As You Are

Shadowrose for lesbian day of @thunder-pride!!!

A Kayo/Penelope sick fic with lots of fluff. Kayo takes care of a sick Penny and comes to a few realisations she manages to say aloud.

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“I brought you some tea,” Kayo said softly.

She held out the mug to the miserable pile of blankets and snotty tissues on the chaise lounge.

Her only answer was a sneeze as a pale hand fished around for another tissue and grabbed the first one it found. The nearest, balled up, guaranteed at least lightly used one.

Kayo grimaced and nudged the box of fresh tissues closer.

Somewhere beneath the blankets was Penny, where she had been alternating between dramatically draping herself over the whole lounge and curling up in a ball, cocooned within the soft furnishings.

Currently, it was cocoon time. A blanket burrito, a Penelope roll. Kayo resisted the urge to giggle or worse, stand there fondly, helplessly smiling. Though it was a bit late for that.

A pile of frazzled blonde hair was partially visible, along with a foot coated in an incredibly fluffy pink sock.

The hand reached out once again, making a grabbing gesture towards the tea. When the fingers clicked together in demand, Kayo let forth a short laugh.

“Coming, coming. You might want to sit up a bit, it’s hot.”

“You’re hot.”

Kayo rolled her eyes fondly. Her girlfriend was a real smooth talker.

“Glad you noticed,” she replied.

Kayo might’ve preened a little at the compliment but no one had to know.

“But shuffle, you don’t want to spill it.” She was also used to dealing with stubborn brothers.

The mass of blankets grumbled and shifted around until Penny emerged.

Kayo couldn’t exactly say she was beautiful right now, when the combination of red, runny nose, not so designer eye bags and sickness dulled expression didn’t do favours for anyone, but she was Penelope and Kayo— Oh god, she loved her, didn’t she?

Kayo took the opportunity to press the back of her hand to Penny’s forehead, totally not a double excuse touch Penelope and avoid her own in too deep, head over heels emotions.

The fever was a little better than before, but still, “No, you’re the hot one.”

Penny snorted a snot filled laugh, which was exactly Kayo’s intention. Okay, minus the mucus. But her laugh, Kayo couldn't help wanting to be the cause of it so she could listen to her forever.

Moving blankets around and tidying away the serious biohazard of tissues, Kayo folded herself down to sit next to Penny, passing over the mug. At least Kayo had already fought through the latest bug to go around Tracy Island, though she grimaced at the thought of where Penny had gotten it from.

“Lemon and ginger, with extra honey,” Kayo presented.

She’d called John when she ducked into the kitchen to gather intel on what was the correct type of tea and preparation method for the situation, in hopes of finding something to soothe Penny’s sore throat.

Her brother had thoughtfully contemplated for a moment before giving her her answer. He seemed to have the different types all memorised in addition to his research skills being unparalleled.

“And John sends his greetings and wishes you to get well soon,” Kayo added.

The word greetings had been used, literally because this was John, but there was never any less warmth or concern when he used words most people wouldn’t expect.

Penny smiled, cupping the mug between her hands.

Her eyes found Kayo’s, and she uttered a soft, slightly scratchy, “Thank you, Tanusha.”

Kayo couldn’t help the smile spreading across her own lips.

She rearranged the blankets to tuck them closer around Penny then affectionately bumped her head into Penelope’s blanket clad shoulder, cat like. It was partially to hide her sappy expression but mostly just because.

Penny took slow sips of her tea, frequently sniffling, head hanging low in a way Kayo read as miserable in addition to sick.

“You want to watch a movie or something?” Kayo suggested.

Now was a good time for distraction from feeling awful.

They put on one of Penny’s period romances, or rather Kayo set up the holoprojector to Penny’s increasingly vague directions largely consisting of “Nooo not that one.”

Kayo was beginning to truly appreciate the genre, soaking up Penny’s obvious enjoyment of it, but not to the degree that she could tell apart one floofily dressed protagonist from the next from the title images.

The events of the show of the hour played out across the holoscreen, of colourful garden parties, historical fashion, love affairs ranging from romantic to doomed and just the right amount of societal scheming complete with spy to spy style back stabbing to keep them both invested.

Though Kayo had to admit they weren’t all that drew her attention. Not when there was Penelope here right next to her, warm against her side where Kayo had found herself with an arm looped around Penny’s shoulders to snuggle closer. She'd sprawled out once again, her legs now draped across Kayo's own.

Only months ago, it had been glances, made undetected out of the corners of her eyes, taken in flashes to memorise the way Penny laughed or the elegant line of her neck in a low cut gown or the exact shade of her hair in the sunlight, a spy’s way of looking but not being seen. But Penny had seen. Had understood, had reciprocated in a way Kayo had never expected she’d have for herself.

Now Kayo watched openly, just because she could. Because this was Penelope.

Penny had tucked her fingers into the sleeves of the oversized hoodie she wore. A theft from John, Kayo would bet given Penny’s fashion tastes didn’t usually run to scientifically accurate diagrams of the solar system plastered across the chest. Or else to the plain, black leggings, far too worn and baggy.

Kayo’s own, she recognised. The set she’d relegated to pyjamas when she couldn’t bring herself to let them go, they were so damn comfortable. Which she’d worn last night and left on Penny’s bed when she’d gotten dressed this morning.

Her heart did a weird squishing thing in her chest. Like it was being squeezed through a hydraulic press. This was the swooping, soaring sensation she felt every time she pulled Shadow out of a dive: that they trusted her, that the skies were hers and she had a Thunderbird of her own that no one would take away from her.

It also just felt warm. Quiet. Comforting with none of the adrenaline rush because she was here to stay.

She swallowed and pressed her body closer to Penelope, resting her chin on her head. The heroine on screen snuck out of her bedroom window in a rather impractical nightgown to go visit the daughter of the lord feuding with her father.

Penny was still sniffling while seeming to sink into herself further and further as the episode went on. If not for the periodic honking as she blew her nose, Kayo would worry she was about to disappear.

She reached out to give her more fresh tissues which Penny snatched from her hand in frustration.

"You okay, Pen?" Kayo asked.

Penny remained focused on the shouting match between the heroine and her father. She pulled away from Kayo's touch.

"You know you are not obligated to stay, right?"

Where had Penny gotten the idea that Kayo wouldn't rather be here than anywhere else in the wide world? She opened her mouth to set her straight.

Penny cut her off, speaking softly, “Sorry, I know I’m absolutely awful when I’m sick.”

Kayo caught the waver in Penelope’s voice, the genuine vulnerability that both of them rarely showed. Except with each other. This relationship blooming between them was one of the best things in Kayo's life, it was the love she thought was for children and fools and other people, the one she never thought she'd get to have too.

Kayo would not let her hurt stand without a fight. She gently cupped Penny’s face and smoothed a thumb over a flushed, raw cheek, channelling all her ruthless steel into the edge of care she was learning how to let show.

"I love you, exactly as you are."

She took a deep breath. The world didn't implode.

"I'm here to stay, I'm not running from this anymore."

Penny's eyes widened, the red rims revealing yet more icy blue.

Kayo had never seen Penny lost for words before, not even when they'd kissed each other silly and Kayo sure was.

"I love you too." The words were simple, nothing hidden behind the fancy, snarled up phrases she'd use with other people. They were honest.

Kayo had this. They both had this.

She was about to lean in closer to Penelope before Penny suddenly gasped. Once. Then again.

Then she sneezed. Everywhere.

Kayo winced in sympathy as Penny wiped the strands of snot off of her face. A strand of blonde hair caught in the tissue as Penny made a dejected noise.

"You sure you still love me?" she asked.

Tangled, long, blonde hair had fallen across Pen's eyes as she peered up at Kayo, something fragile barely concealed there.

Kayo tucked it back behind her ears, pressing a kiss to Penelope's forehead.

"Exactly as you are, I love you. Of course I do. You're you."

"And you are youreself too, Tanusha."

Kayo smiled softly, eyes slipping shut to remember this moment in amongst what all the world would throw at them in the future. She opened them again to see Penny. Her hair had made its way back to her face so Kayo brushed it away then gently twisted a curl around her fingers.

"Would you like me to braid it for you?" she offered. Penny nodded slowly, shifting to curl into Kayo for a moment.

"You love me." It wasn't a question.

Their on screen heroine got the girl in the end too.

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds fanfiction #kayo kyrano #lady penelope #penelope creighton-ward #astrawrite #thunderpride #thunderpride 2024 #shadowrose

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eevylynn · 1 year

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Leaving Neverland

Ask me about my WIPs

Idk why I wasn't expecting so many Swanfire stories considering I haven't posted any since 2015, but here we are!

Leaving Neverland was one that I surprisingly don't have anything of in my Google Docs, so I don't really remember where I was going with it.

I did find some notes in one of my writing notebooks with different ideas of technology to explore that changed between when Bae was there with Wendy versus in the 90s. I also have notes on research on the Edwardian tech in terms of pens, running water, electricity, tvs, sliced bread, and music.

There's also lists of the differences and similarities between Neal's personality as well as young Bae from the Enchanted Forest, so that I could see what mix I think he would have been when he first arrived in the 90s.

After rereading the same paragraph three times, Emma figured she wasn't going to be getting any more homework done tonight until after all the little ones were in bed. As it was, her current foster mom and her four smaller foster siblings seemed to be having a rather heated disagreement on what exactly you needed to clean in a bath before you were considered "clean". Sighing, Emma looked around the cozy living room. The only other teenaged foster kid in the house, Geoffery, was sitting on the other end of couch, dressed in his usual head to toe in black, lost in whatever screaming was coming from his headphones. Figuring he wouldn't help relieve her boredom, Emma put her book back in her backpack and stood up.

"I'm going to go for a walk," she announced, catching her foster father's eye.

He nodded and replied, "Just don't be back too late, and don't wake anyone when you get in." He then turned his attention back to the game on TV.

Closing the front door, Emma breathed in deeply in relief of the nighttime silence. She glanced around a bit before walking down the porch stairs and went right upon reaching the side walk.

Her latest foster family wasn't the worst she's had in her 15 years of being in the system. Mr. and Mrs. Riston were nice enough. They seemed to at least care about the well being of the kids that lived there rather their paycheck unlike most families she's been sent to. She also likes that she's allowed a certain level of freedom over there that group homes don't allow. All in all, she was reasonably satisfied with them.

What she wasn't quite satisfied with was the small town the Ristons lived in. It's one of those everyone knows everyone. The only real hang out place Emma saw was a coffee and sandwich shop that doubled as the local movie theater. Heck, there were only a handful of traffic lights in the entirety of the city. As a city girl, the town really left something to be desired in Emma.

Crossing a street, Emma realized that she was right around the corner from an old abandoned house she had seen when her social worker first drove her into town. Hitching her bag up her shoulder, she decided to go check it out. She tried not to make herself look too obvious as she neared the old house.

The sprawling three story Victorian home had definitely seen better days. Its faded robin's egg blue paint was chipping from the sides. The wrought iron fence that encased the grounds was over grown with weeds and bushes. The extensive garden was obviously very elaborate at one point but was now creeping unkempt across the uncut lawn.

Emma glanced around as she crept closer. Seeing no one, she slunk over to the gate.

Thankfully, vines hadn't grown over it in such a way that it wouldn't open. She opened it just wide enough for her to slip through before quickly and quietly shutting it. Turning away from the gate, Emma eyed the creepy old house. Several of the windows were boarded up, and the door had a massive padlock locking it shut. Emma managed a few steps before she stumbled over something hidden in the shadows of the overgrown weeds. The echoing noise whatever it was made as it hit the fence caused Emma to duck into the shadows. Cautiously looking around, it didn't seem as though the noise disturbed anyone, so she carefully continued towards the house.

She made her way around to the side where an unboarded window stood just above her reach. She looked behind her for something that would give her the height she needed. Spotting an old stone bench, she congratulated herself for working out as she quickly drug the heavy bench to the edge of the house. Climbing on it, she looked through the glass. However, between the darkness of the night and the dirt caking the window, she couldn't see much inside.

Reaching into her backpack, she dug out a flashlight. Taking another cautious glance around, she turned on the flashlight and placed it right up against the glass, so it would light up the inside of the house instead of the glass. Inside she saw faded peeling wallpaper and old winged armchairs with stuffing pouring out.

Putting her flashlight between her teeth, Emma made quick work of prying open the window before pulling herself up and through it. Holding her flashlight in her hand again, she looked around what appeared to be an old sitting room. Greying cushions sat on the frame of an old settee in the corner. The old, faded Persian rug in the middle of the floor was fraying at the ends, and there seemed to be a hole in the ceiling that led to the floor above.

She was heading to the archway leading to the foyer when the light of her flashlight caught what appeared to be an old trunk in the room opposite. Thinking it might have something valuable inside, she walked towards it.

"Impressive."

The sudden male voice startled Emma who let out a small scream as she turned around to see a hooded boy with his hands in his pockets and a smug smile on his face.

"But you could have just used the back door."

(continue reading on AO3)

#swanfire #ouat #wips #baelfire #emma swan #fics #leaving neverland

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goldenempyrean · 2 years

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Hey! Could you do one with Lizzie where we’re at a premiere or something and there’s flowers and it’s setting off her allergies?

Budding Review

Hey hey hey! This has been in my inbox for SOOOO long, sorry it took this long to do! Also I got like 6 new requests over the last day or so, so anything new may take a litte long to come out since I wanna get my older requests done first :D (also ignore the how bad the title is…. I was trying to make it flower related :p )

Summary: You and Lizzie are at the premiere for her latest movie, everythings fine until something starts to bother her nose.

Wordcount:850

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“Wow these are beautiful, thank you!” Lizzie exclaimed with a bright beaming smile, as she was handed a beautiful bouquet of daisies by one of the hosts.

Yourself and Lizzie were currently attending a premiere for Liz’s next movie, she had a plus one so of course she had brought you along. You’d been to many premieres in your relationship with Lizzie however none had been as extravagant as this. There was a huge red carpet running through the centre leading into the screening room. The venue was packed with guests and celebrities, all anxious to see the much-hyped movie.

“You excited?” You nudged her lightly, taking her hand, as both of you waved your goodbyes to waiting crowd and made your way inside the screening room. The film wasn’t due to start for another 10 minutes but you wanted time to get yourselves settled.

“Yeah, hopefully everybody else enjoys it.” Lizzie chipped back. You were still holding her hand as you sat down but after afew seconds you felt her suddenly pull away, “Hh..H’iiishiew!”

Lizzie ducked her head into her hand as she sneezed, politely excusing herself afterwards. You were just about to bless her when she had to frantically duck her head into her elbow to catch another sneeze which seemed to have snuck up on her.

“You feeling okay?” You frowned, reaching over to cup her cheek, however your worry settled feeling no unusual heat coming from her.

“I feel fine.” She spoke quietly as more people began to fill the surrounding seats, “My nose is just itching like crazy.” As if to exaggerate her point Lizzie’s nose began to twitch again, “Hiii’tshshh! Hhhih…H’iiihsshiew!”

Lizzie blushed as a mumble of blessings came from those around you. You reached out to retake her hand. he smiled as she felt you begin to trace small circles with your thumb along her skin.

It wasn’t long before the movie began. The screening room grew silent and everybody fixed their attention on the big screen. The opening scenes were great, you couldn’t believe the talent of Lizzie and her co-stars.

Everything was fine for about 30 minutes when something out of the corner of your eye caught your attention. Lizzie was scrubbing at her nose, trying desperately to be discreet about it, you also noticed how her chest was rising and falling rather rapidly.

“Liz?” You whispered, not wanting to draw any unwanted attention, “You alright?”

“I-“ Lizzie wasn’t able to get another word out before she was sent forward from the force of stifling her oncoming sneezes, “HHh'GNXxT!..H’Tssh'GHTT! Hh..H’Ngh'KXT!”

“Poor sweetie, bless you.” You sighed, keeping your voice low, “Whats making you sneeze so much, huh?”

Then you saw it. The bouquet of daises sitting on her lap. It was in that moment a faint memory resurfaced itself in your mind. Lizzie had previously told you that she was allergic to certain types of flowers and as she bent forward stifling another painful sounding sneeze into near silence you came to the conclusion that it was definitely the bouquet which was setting her off.

“I think these flowers are bothering your nose sweetheart.” You hushed, carefully moving the flowers off her lap, trying to avoid crinkling the paper they were wrapped in. You laid them on the floor infront of you, trying to edge them away from her.

Lizzie sniffed, feeling her nose begin to run, “Thanks. Sorry, I should’ve realised earlier” Lizzie sighed as she rubbed her temples, trying to fight off her oncoming headache.

Throughout the rest of the premiere, Lizzie was forced to stifle each painful sneeze, never able to gain any actual relief. By the time the movie had ended, she was exhausted. As light flooded the room you saw that her eyes had grown slightly puffy and her nose was visibly irritated.

It was obvious all she wanted to do right now was go home. But she had an important gathering to attend with the critics to review their view and opinions of the movie. Plus, there was a company after-party too. It was almost a guarantee that both of you wouldn’t be home by midnight. You heard Lizzie sigh, she must’ve realised it too.

“God I’m so stuffed up right now.” She spoke through a congested voice as the room began to grow loud with chatter, “Hh...He’hhtshoo! Ugh, Sorry.”

“Aw darling, bless you. I’m pretty sure I have some allergy medicine in the car.” You cooed, wanting to somehow comfort your poor allergenic wife, “You go and get ready for your meeting sweetie, I’ll be waiting for you when you’re out.”

You kissed her goodbye as you both set off in different directions. It didn’t take long for you to reach the car and luckily there was a small packet of hayfever relief tablets in the glove compartment, there were also afew small travel sized tissue packs so you grabbed one of those for her too. All you had to do now was wait for Lizzie to be finished in her meeting to give her the tablets. Maybe the night wouldn’t actually be so bad afterall...

#sickfic #snzfic #marvel sickfic #whump #fluffy #marvel snzfic #mcu #snzfuck #femreader #elizabeth olsen snzfic #elizabeth olsen whump #elizabeth olsen sickfic #lizzie olsen whump #elizabeth olsen x reader #lizzie olsen x reader

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scmediafest · 3 years

Text

Gather round and grab your popcorn because the first day of MediaFest is finally here! Best of all, we’re off with a BANG! Today’s fics are packed with time travel, ghosts, and [dramatic horns] MURDER.

Track what you've read using this handy Masterlist we've prepared for you. It will be updated with each day's releases. Feel free to use the “make a copy” function to copy the spreadsheet to your own Google Drive (or download it if you want to use different spreadsheet software), and come back each day to copy the new fics into your personal copy.

We will also be releasing a Bingo card for charity on the final day of reveals. More information to come soon!

📺

DAY 1 REVEALS

The Seven Husbands of Alexis Rose

[Alexis/Twyla, David/Patrick - T - 18,766]

My name is Alexis Rose. But you knew that already, didn't you?

There's no need for shyness. You don't need to pretend that you didn't Google me before you read this article, or that you don't know who I am. I shouldn't misspeak, though: you think you know who I am. You have an idea of who Alexis Rose is.

Maybe you've never seen any of my movies. Maybe you think I'm washed up, someone only your parents care about. Maybe you think I'm irrelevant. Maybe you think I'm a whore.

Oh, don't duck your head. I guarantee you're not the first person to ever let that idea enter your mind, and you won't be the last.

In 2015, Alexis Rose pens a tell-all for Vogue, promising to finally tell the truth about all seven of those infamous husbands and then some...

*📺*

Never felt this way before

[David/Patrick - M - 17,486]

The year is 1964 and the Roses are vacationing in the small resort of Schitt's Creek. Little does David Rose know he's in for a fun summer and he might just be about to have the time of his life..

*📺*

It'll be Alright When the Morning Comes

[Rachel/Stevie, David/Patrick - M - 16,200]

“So this is today. Today is yesterday, and tomorrow is also today. It’s one of those,” Stevie sighs, voice reverting to a mumble, “infinite time loop situation you might have heard about.”

Rachel shifts on the sofa, the bare back of her thighs pulling against the rough material. She needs to know this isn’t a joke.

(a Palm Springs AU)

*📺*

MURDER in Schitt's Creek

[David/Patrick - T - 6,204]

Ray is on the case with his latest podcast series "MURDER in Schitt's Creek!" Follow along with Ray's investigation into the mysterious death at the motel.

(AKA an AU of Dead Guy in Room Four)

*📺*

Paradise Found

[David/Patrick - M - 5,013]

Yet, through it all, over the years, David and Patrick have been steady. They’ve always had each other’s backs. They’ve barely had an argument outside their gentle teasing and easy banter.

Now here they were, 18 years old, almost high school graduates, dealing with their first real falling out. All because Patrick doesn’t know what the hell he’s doing.

Patrick discovers something about himself with the help of his best friend and a Meatloaf song.

*📺*

One Prairie Outpost

[David/Patrick - T - 3,192]

They say you can't go home again, and when Patrick visits Manitoba for the first time in years, he thinks this might be true. After all, a lot has changed - and his friends and family don't know half of it.

Takes place between "Singles Week" and "Merry Christmas, Johnny Rose."

*📺*

Schitt's Creek Unsolved

[David/Patrick - G - 1,945]

what it says on the tin: buzzfeed unsolved, but make it schitt's creek

*📺*

Wild Horses

[Johnny/Moira - T - 1,557]

Loving Moira Rose is an emotional roller coaster - but Johnny is willing to ride.

*📺*

Dreams

[Jocelyn & Others - T - 1,440]

Jocelyn’s dreams seem to change with the tide. But a little surfing never hurt anyone!

Or, a study of Jocelyn before and during the series.

*📺*

[podfic] Fine Repairs

[David/Patrick - T - 56m:03s]

“This is Patrick—he’ll be joining us! He’s a horologist.”

David nods and sticks out his hand. “David. I’m the ceramic conservation and restoration expert.”

*📺*

CREATORS: If your works were released today, please don't forget to update your posting date!

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hansensgirl · 4 years

Text

here, kitty kitty.

summary | Your sugar daddy wants his wildest dreams to come to life. You, on the other hand, aren’t really into it.

warnings | Dubcon, dark themes, pet play, Dark!Sebastian Stan, Sugar Daddy/Sugar Baby relationship, degrading, praise, humiliation, spanking, overstimulation, use of a leash, spanking via a paddle, butt plugs, no this isn’t beastiality; pet play is a kink, she’s not a furry, public sex? (the reader takes her panties off in the car), tail plug, dildos, vibrators, kneeling, cat ears (headband), smut, rough sex, anal play, dacryphilia?, use of a vibrating butt plug, double vaginal, finger sucking, crawling, + more!! this is a dark fic!! if you aren’t comfortable with reading any of these things, then don’t read this fic!! i am not responsible for your media consumption. +18!!!

pairings | Dark!Sugar Daddy!Sebastian Stan x Shy!Reader.

authors note | this is a birthday drabble for the lovely @peachyteabuck. happy birthday bb! i hope your day is amazing, wonderful, special and full of love and happiness!! you’re such an amazing person and friend, and even though i don’t know much about you, i can tell you’re an even more amazing person in real life. happy birthday, ily! also, this is a dark!sebastian stan fic. i am not implying that sebastian would do this, it’s basically an au. it’s fiction, and fiction isn’t real! any hate comments will be deleted and you’ll be kindly blocked, even if you’re a mutual <3 also i am not trying to wipe the existence of alejandra, once again, it’s fiction! it ain’t real. gif credit to my special baby @mypoisonedvine !! ily!

Your dainty fingers flittered over price tags carelessly. Dollar signs filled your eyes, gleaming and glittering with awe and shock. You couldn’t believe yourself. Once upon a time you used to stare at clearance tags over and over, wondering how gravely it would affect your financial situation. Trips to the bank grew frequently and so did the pile of job applications on the wonky kitchen table you owned. You grimaced at the painful memory, there was no way you’d ever be able to go back to that living nightmare. You sighed as you couldn’t find anything you liked in the store. Associates decked down in all black stood in the back of the store, per your sugar daddy’s request. Sebastian Stan, one of the highest paid actors and a complete heartthrob. You remembered how you both had met, you were his waitress at some expensive French restaurant. You were getting an earful from one of his team members and he had swooped in and saved the day. Soon after that came lavish dates and gifts, and eventually the ultimate proposition that changed your life in the blink of an eye.

He made quick work of moving you out of your cardboard box of an apartment and into his regal condo that laid in the Upper Eastside of New York. Your wardrobe was wiped clean with name brands that made your heart flutter. Decadent jewelry was donned as he liked it -- simple, yet elegant. Pearls laid on your clavicle, not too tight yet not too loose. He dressed you himself that day, as he did everyday. He took care of you like a little pet, one that he was very proud of. He stood right behind you, eyes trailing up and down your body as he admired you. You felt shy under his stoic gaze, ducking your head down. “Babydoll, did you see anything you liked?” He asked, placed his hand on the small of your back. You hesitatingly relaxed into it, nervous yet comforted at the same time. He always kept you on your toes. One minute, his hands would be constantly roaming your body, and the next, they’d be gone.

He had done a marvellous job at keeping your relationship private. You knew how paparazzi would camp outside his many residentials, vying for a simple snap of the actor. But he was smart, always one step ahead. “No, Daddy…” You trailed off, your voice no more than a quiet whisper. You were always shy towards him, especially in public. Quite frankly, you were intimidated. And he loved that about you. You always worried that the other workers in the store would judge you, envy you, sneer at you, or even take pictures of you and him. They were paid hush money, a crisp Benjamin would be slipped into their hands discreetly and sometimes along with a ticket to his latest movie or an autograph. An Italian suit framed his body perfectly, slicked back hair and a strong jawline that made your mouth water. It was grey, almost like the muted tones his eyes held in the midst of cerulean. “Poor baby, you want Daddy to choose something for you?” He asked, the name making you whimper.

You nodded timidly, the heat of embarrassment creeping up your cheeks as shame crawled up your body. His large hand came up and rubbed your bottom lip gently, loving the way it had a slight pout to it. “Go to the dressing room, baby.” He decreed, making you nod and walk over to the room that was closed off with velvet curtains. As soon as he heard your footsteps recede farther, his voice boomed around the store. He had heard the workers talking about you, saying degrading things that would undoubtedly make you cry. He was protective, and he wasn’t going to let some measly, ill-mannered people dishearten you. Maybe you did hear their words, that’s why you couldn’t find anything. “I swear to god, I’ll make sure none of you get a proper job for the rest of your lives! You’ll live in your families’ basements and you’ll neve be happy for the rest of your lives. I’ll ruin you all.” He yelled, revelling in the way they all had tears in their eyes. He dismissed them calling the owner to make sure they got fired.

Veins popped out and his face turned red as he desperately tried to calm down. He searched the store for something for his baby, but prevailed with nothing. He stormed to a mirror and smoothed his hair down, checking his suit for wrinkles and swallowed thickly. He walked through the velvet curtains and spotted you sitting on one of the leather ottomans, one leg bouncing with anxiety and your lip between your teeth. You were lost in the deep sea that was your thoughts, not even noticing that your sugar daddy came for you. Strong hands weighed down on your droopy shoulders, squeezing them slightly to disrupt your far too long thought train. “Did you hear anything, baby?” He asked, leaning closer to you. His warm breath fanned against the back of your neck, lips soft against your ear. You furrowed your brows and turned to look at him.

Worry, fury and dominance etched his features. “Hear what?” You asked, pure naivety lacing your tone. Worry morphed into relief, and his frown turned into a small smile. “Nothing, we’re gonna go now. This store is quite -- how must I put it? -- lackluster.” He smiled, ushering you to get up. You followed him like a little puppy, latching onto the bottom sleeve of his suit. The clicking of your heels on the floor were almost in rhythm with your breathing. Long strides managed to keep you up and deep breaths calmed your nerves. You knew anyone could be watching, phones out as they readied to expose you. You could never brace yourself from the sharp teeth of the internet, as they were always ready to tear you both apart. You ducked your head down and cowered behind him as he led you away from the preposterous mall.

He turned around and looked down at you, sternly telling you something. But you don’t pay attention. Instead you chose to ignore him and marvel at the small dog in a stroller. Sure, it was flamboyant in it’s own way, but how could anyone ignore the sight? The dog is a mix between a shih-tzu and something else that you couldn’t quite figure out. You watched as the stroller passed you and headed into the mall, getting lost somewhere in there. “...Are you even listening to me, kitten?” He asked dubiously, raising one of his eyebrows. “Hmm?” You hummed, turning to look at your Daddy. “Sorry, Daddy, there was just a cute dog in a stroller that I saw!” You exclaimed, pouting slightly out of habit. Sebastian took a deep breath before sighing heavily. Squeezing his eyes shut, he tried his hardest to not lose his cool.

He had given you a set of rules when your relationship started. They toed at the line of strict and controlling, but after he explained every single kink and reward they were reasonable in your naive, doe-like eyes. You didn’t dare to question them or his authority, knowing that would only end with him engulfing in flames of rage and fury. He had a short temper, one that he had developed over time. Maybe it was the stress and the pressure of his privileged, well-earned life, but you’ll never know. Listening to him was one of those rules, high on the list that he always prioritized over most things. He loathed it when you didn’t listen to him. “I said, go sit and wait in the car. Oh, also, ditch the panties.” He snapped, making you whimper. In the two years of your relationship, you were never fond of his harsh tone. “Yes, Daddy.” You squeaked, walking away to the sleek Jaguar that was parked along with the other luxurious cars. You bit your tongue as you weaved your way through millions of dollars that were on wheels.

You carefully opened the passenger door and sat in the leather seat that had a pink, fluffy blanket covering it. You closed the door and set your small, round, pink Chanel handbag under your seat. Hesitatingly, you reached up your dress and your fingers blindly found your panties. You hooked your thumbs around the lace fabric that was a bit too expensive for your taste. You lifted your lower body up and slowly pulled the fabric down, falling into a jumble at your feet. You struggled to untangle them from your heels, before finally triumphing with a small grunt. You shoved the panties into your purse and bit your lip. Embarrassment gnawed at you as you saw people walking by. But they couldn’t see you at all. The darkly tinted glass was like flimsy armour for you in your eyes. Nobody saw through them, but it still made you feel like you were being watched. Leisurely, you began to get lost in that deep sea of thoughts again.

What would he do? Was he going to take you to another mall? You picked at the ends of your Kate Spade dress. It was fancy, dainty, something a princess would wear once and throw away. It made you look classy and tasteful. Underneath it, though, was a different story. Numerous hickeys, bruises and bite marks littered your skin. The marks made you feel small, submissive and owned. Possessed like a play thing, like his pet. Sebastian loved to see you all marked up, it was like you were his work of art and he was the artist. You shyly spread your legs and felt a sweat beginning to form on your back. Your palms began to sweat too, out of pure nervousness of course. You gripped the seats and sighed, before wiping your hands on the blanket. You looked up and saw Sebastian walking out with two bags in his hands. He clutched the silky handles of the bags and walked in long, harsh strides. A small scowl was on his face, seemingly displeased with the day so far.

He weaved his way through the cars as did you. He harshly opened the door for the driver’s seat as if it wouldn’t cost a fortune to repair. He sat down and sighed, shoving the Tiffany & Co. bag in the backseat. You pouted, feeling the anger radiating off of him like heat. The other bag remained in his hands, but you couldn’t recognize the store name. “Daddy got you a few gifts, okay kitten?” He handed the bag over to you as he spoke. You nodded but didn’t dare to open the bag as he hadn’t given you permission. “Thank you, Daddy!” You giggled, your voice holding innocence He smirked at you and crept his hand up your thigh, slowly but surely. Ring-donned knuckles grazed against your wet folds, bumping up against your swollen, sensitive clit. You let out a whimper at the feeling and slick drooled out of you from his touch.

“Daddy…” You whined, looking down at your lap. “Yeah baby?” He asked, playing dumb to the fact that he was toying with your sensitive pussy. You bit your tongue before you could beg and plead for more. You knew he didn’t like it when you were greedy for more. He pulled his hand away from your pussy and you both admired the way his fingers glistened with your arousal. He shoved the same fingers into your mouth, making you gag and drool. You sucked on them as if you were starved, the sweet yet slightly bitter taste of your slick filling your mouth. He pulled his fingers out with a sounding ‘pop’ that made you giggle. “Good kitten, guess you’re not so dumb after all.” He husked, the mix of praise and degradation making you wetter. He revved the engine of his car and began to pull out of the parking lot, driving ensuite to his Upper Eastside home.

The rumble and vibrations of his car went straight to your pussy, reminding you of the time where he sat you stark-naked on the hood of his car and revved the engine just to tease you. Later that night, he chided and punished you for being a messy little kitten. The vivid, lewd memory made you clench your thighs as you were desperate for some sort of friction. Sebastain’s right hand danced all over your body as his left hand gripped the steering wheel tightly. You both got lucky that afternoon, as rush hour traffic had yet to start. Smoothly, he parked in the private garage that housed some of his other cars. They were all worth more than anything, probably hundreds of thousands of dollars. He led you out of the garage and into the elevator, a sweet jazz tune playing at a low hum that was almost missable. You still held onto the bag that he gifted you and you even dared to try and take a peek inside.

The sparkly tissue hid the gift well from your intrusive, detective eyes. You bounced on your feet as you wondered what it could possibly be. It was slightly heavy, but you partially blamed your weak muscles for that. Sebastian never let you lift a finger when it came to hard work. You barely paid attention to the ding of the elevator as you had reached the floor of his penthouse. Sebastian gently dragged you out, your short steps barely keeping up with his long strides. The click of your heels no longer made a sound as the carpet of the hallways muted them gently. “Now when we get inside, I want you to strip everything and kneel on the floor.” He ordered, voice at a low baritone that made you even wetter. Your noticed that your inner thighs were slightly damp with arousal, your pussy leaking with want.

“Yes, Daddy.” You smiled, easily obeying him. You could already feel the ache in your knees that would come with kneeling on the floor. He opened the door and you swiftly made your way to the bedroom. You swung the door open and was met with the room that you spent most of your time in. Grey hues illuminated under the brightness of the chandelier. You gently kicked your shoes into a corner and quickly shed all your clothes off, gently laying them onto the white divan that was at the feet of your bed. You bit your lip as you wondered whether or not you should take a peak in the bag. But you reminded yourself of the consequences your curiosity always brought you. He knew, he always knew when you let your hands and eyes wandered like tourists in Venice. You hesitatingly set the bag onto the dresser, before clumsily unclasping your pearl necklace. You were out of breath at that point, chest heaving like you had just ran a marathon. You hugged your naked body as you moved back to the divan, kneeling in front of it. On the floor, the fluffy carpet dug into your knees slightly, making you wince.

You looked down at the ground and clasped your hands behind your back. The cool air made goosebumps rise like the dead rising from their graves. Your cunt throbbed with anticipation and neediness, you just couldn’t wait for him. Your heart clamoured wildly as you heard him walk closer to the bedroom, opening the door to be pleased by the sight of you on your knees. “Such a good little kitten.” He praised, loosening the expensive tie around his neck. The blazer of the Armani suit was strewn somewhere in the kitchen and all Sebastian was left with was his dress pants and dress shirt. He rolled his sleeves up as he walked around you, making the hairs on the back of your neck raise. You were undoubtedly nervous for what was about to come. You heard the rustling of the bag from the dresser, the sound reverberating throughout the room. “You’d let Daddy do anything to you, right?” He asked, pulling out the bottle of lube from the bag.

“Of course, Daddy!” You exclaimed, knowing it was another one of his rules. Let daddy do whatever he wants to you. He smirked as he pulled the glittery box out of the bag, carefully setting it down next to the bottle of lube. He grabbed everything else from the bag, leaving only the tissue paper. “Close your eyes, kitten.” He demanded, and you listened easily. You slowled your erratic breaths down and furrowed your eyebrows at a foreign feeling. A headband laid on your head and was tucked behind your ears. Then you felt his hands ghosting around your neck, followed by the feeling of cool leather. Sebastian fastened the collar together and tightened it just enough to have you slightly gasping for air. His hands left your neck and his fingers played with the little bell on the front of the collar.

The sound made you even more confused and lost. But you didn’t dare to open your mouth. “Such a cute little kitten.” He cooed, walking back to the dresser. He hastily opened the box with a loud rip and marvelled at its contents. Headbands, tails, buttplugs, paddles, handcuffs, ball gags, dildo gags, dildos, vibrators, leashes, and nipple clamps of all kinds were at his disposal, all for his little kitten - you. He grabbed the pink leash and unwrapped, it carefully, opening its clasp to attach to your collar. “Now open your eyes, kitten.” He instructed, gripping the leash tightly. You opened your eyes and gasped, panic taking over your body. “Sebastian, what’s this?” You nervously questioned, your bottom lip quivering. The smile on his lips quickly turned into a scowl, as you had broken a rule. Never, ever call him Sebastian. He tugged on the leash harshly, pulling you up. “What the fuck did you just call me?” He growled, clearly in no mood for you to act out.

“S- Sorry, Daddy.” You quickly apologized, terrified of his hell-sent wrath. You hesitatingly reached up to touch the headband. Your eyes went wide as you felt ears that would resemble cat ears. Cat ears, the leash and the collar… You added it all up and gasped as it dawned on you, he was into pet play. “Now listen, kitten. You gotta listen to the rules, and if you don’t listen then I could punish you by ending this little relationship, okay? I know you can’t survive without me, and you should remember that.” He spat, making your throat tighten up with an impending sob. You swallowed it down and nodded, deciding to listen to him. “Good kitten.” He praised, smiling once again. He pushed you down and pulled your ass up into the air, and you let him manhandle you. Your dripping pussy was exposed to him and shame bit you like a snake.

He let go of the leash and walked to the dresser, and for a split second you thought you could have ran away. But as soon as he turned back around, those thoughts went away. The coolness of the lub made you flinch as he poured some onto your ass hole. He carefully spread it around but didn’t bother to warm you up. You shouted when you felt the tip of the tail plug push into your puckered hole. It stretched your ass out painfully and you couldn’t bear the pain. It shot up your spine and made you feel dizzy. You thought you were going to pass out as the large part of the plug forced its way into you. Finally, the excruciating pain stopped increasing. Into died down to a low thrumming and throbbing and soon dwindled into an aching pleasure. You felt full yet empty, which only made you whine pathetically.

“Poor kitten, so desperate for your Daddy, hm?” He snickered, making you shy away from him. Your wetness coated your inner thighs and began to drip from your cunt, the sweet scent of it making him moan. “Before I fuck that tight little pussy of yours, I believe I have to punish you.” He spoke, shrugging his shirt off. You watched from the corner of your eyes as he stripped down to his birthday suit that was always a delectable sight for your eyes only. Your mouth salivated as you saw his large, hard cock in his boxers. You couldn't fight the urge to rub your thighs together at all. The slight friction was euphoric, but it just wasn’t enough. Sebastian picked up the paddle that had the word ‘mine’ engraved on it. He walked back to your bent over form and soothingly rubbed your ass before speaking.

“Count them, and don’t forget to thank me.” He implored, smacking the paddle harshly on your right ass cheek. “One, thank you Daddy.” You squeaked out. He took turns on each cheek, hitting you with the same amount of agonizing strength. Tears streamed down your face as you sobbed after each spank. Your ass was bruised, the word ‘mine’ indented all over it. “Twenty, thank you Daddy!” You whimpered. “You like this, don’t you? Such a good little kitten, all slutty and dripping for your Daddy.” He gently barked, making you nod. His words only added gasoline to the fire that was your shame and arousal. You felt a harsh tug from the leash and suddenly you were on your hands and knees, just like a kitten. Your mascara was leaking, smeared on your face like in those angsty-heartbreak movies.

Sebastian wiped the tears and ruined mascara away, but he only made you l;ook more pathetic than before. He’d love to fuck your beautiful face until you passed out, or to slap your little cheeks until you begged for more. He wanted to break you, to turn you into his little kitten. You gulped down your fear as you waited for what he’d gladly give you next. Your eyes fell to his hard cock, still stuck in its confinement that was his Hugo Boss boxers. They hung right where his intriguing v-line was, the same path that would lead you to your treasure -- his cock. You looked up at him, watching as he sucked his bottom lip between his pearly whites. “Beg for it.” He growled. You knew how much he loved to hear you beg. It made him feel superior, it fed his ego but it made you feel submissive and desperate. But oh, the rewarding praise it would come with was so addictive, like ecstasy.

“Please daddy? I’ll be a good little kitten! I need your big cock daddy, please?” You begged, your voice slightly strained from the screaming and yelling. You looked up at him and unintentionally gave him those puppy eyes that always made him weak in the knees. Glazed over orbs that were slightly sad, begging in their own language that was silence. Sebastian let go of the leash and stalked away from you, keeping his predatory eyes trained on you. You admired the scratches that were stained on his back that your well manicured nails left behind. Just like a kitten. He sits on the bed and crosses his arms, large muscles bulging and the sight makes you whimper -- loudly. You loved the way your small hands would struggle to grip his large biceps as you’d scramble for purchase whilst he’d rail into you.

The phantom feeling of his cock driving in and out of you sparks something inside of you, pushing you into a light, floaty headspace. The loud snap of his fingers made you jump with fear. He pointed at the floor next to him and you furrowed your eyebrows with mystification. You knew he wasn’t going to help you out then, no. You were all on your own. Sebastian raised his eyebrow as he waited for you to crawl towards him, just like how a kitten should. He wasn’t going to help you out, you needed to learn on your own. He longed for you to fully fall into the headspace that would make you all dumb and stupid. He loved to break you, to see you depend on him for everything. “D- Daddy?” You called out, waiting for him to tell you to do something. But he remained as silent as a stone. “Here, kitty, kitty...” The snapping, the pointing, and the waiting… He wanted you to crawl, didn’t he?

You gulped and winced as you put one knee before the other, one hand before the other. You soon met Sebastian's bouncing feet, before looking up at him. All your arousal leaked all over you, and as much as you hated to admit it, the whole thing turned you on even more. The dominance, the degrading, the feeling of needing him, it all made the passionate fire in your abdomen continue to burn. Sebastian turned to face you and ran his thumb across your lips, smearing your saliva around. He pushed his thumb in your mouth and you eagerly sucked on it as if it were his cock. He abruptly pulled it out, making you put. “Nuh uh, none of that.” He chided, feeling his cock stirring in his pants. “Such a good, dumb little kitten. Take daddy’s cock out.” He jeered, and you nearly sobbed. Finally, finally. You swiftly pulled his boxers down, watching as his large cock bounced up and hit his lower abdomen. Thick ropes of pre-cum leaked down the shaft of his cock and you never wanted to suck him off more in your life.

You involuntarily darted your tongue out to lap up all the pre-cum, but a harsh tug on the pink leather leash halted you. “As much as I’d love to stuff your cute, slutty little mouth with my cock, I’m in the mood to fuck you until you’re just a braindead kitten.” He belted, leaving no room for argument or begging. He leans down and captures your lips in a heated, rough kiss. You can barely keep up with the Greek God-esque man. The kiss is dominating; arduous and vehement. His teeth nipped at your wet lips and you whimper into the kiss, only adding gasoline to the fire. He forcefully pushed his tongue into your mouth and you let it explore everywhere. You sucked out it softly, rubbing your thighs together to alleviate the burning ache that just seems to only intensify. He pulled away from you all at once and you felt dizzy. Your lips were throbbing and suddenly you’re thrown onto the bed.

You felt the plug push farther into you -- further shocking you as it already was so deep. It grazed against each and every one of your sensitive spots, making you cry out. It was the kind of pleasure that was also painful, but the kind of pain that made you want to be hurt more and more. You wondered if you were a masochist, if Sebastian had turned you into a masochist. But at that time, that was the least of your worries. From the corner of your eyes, you saw the glint from the glittery box that Sebastian had purchased. He flipped you onto your stomach and slowly pulled the tail out, stroking it every now and then. “Ngh.” You moaned out it was pulled out all the way. Sebastian stared at your gaping hole, wishing he could just stick his cock in you and fuck you into oblivion. He could, but he shouldn’t; not yet at least.

You gripped the sheets tightly, silk slightly slipping from your sweaty hands. A gasp flew past your lips as Sebastian puckered his lips and spat on your puckered hole, before rubbing it in. You fought the need to push your hips back against his thumb, slowly pushing into you. The stretch was just as painful as the plug, your poor ass burning. He pulled his thumb back out before grabbing another plug, one that had a pink tail. He swiftly pushed it in and your eyes rolled back into your skull at the feeling. It wasn’t as painful as before, it was actually pleasurable. You swore you lost your vision for a brief second, and even your breath as well as your morals. Well, you lost your morals a long time ago, to be frank.

You felt him stroke the fluffy part of the tail again, almost trying to soothe you. He fiddled with the base of the plug, trying to find the little nub that was supposed to be there. His fingers flipped it and suddenly the plug began to vibrate. Muted, strong vibrations radiated throughout your ass and up your spine, even reaching to your poor little pussy. You moaned pornographically, bucking your hip involuntarily, humping the air. “Aw, poor little kitten is so needy.” He taunted, even though it was the same case for him. He was harder than anything and it was almost painful. Pre-cum leaked from his aching, silky and dripped down to his swollen balls.

He couldn’t take it anymore. He pulled your hips back towards his and grinded his cock against your dripping pussy. You were so wet that you could smell the slightly bitter scent of your arousal in the air. It was muted, faint, but anybody would have noticed. Sebastian grabbed the base of his cock and bumped the silky, bulbous head of his cock against your clit. You cried out, “Please daddy!” But he only turned up the vibrations and continued to rub the tip against your pearl of nerves. His cock teased your drooling hole, and you just couldn’t take it anymore. “Please fuck me, daddy!” You pleaded. Sebastian sheathed his cock into your wet pussy, impaling you. You wheezed as he slowly bottomed out, his cock slightly grazing your cervix.

You didn’t mind it, though. He stayed still, his cock throbbing inside your core. He reached for the pink hitachi wand and turned it on, pressing it onto your poor little clit. You shrieked at the abrupt amount of pleasure, your hand darting down to where the wand was. You held it in place even though your hands were shaking. Your body held a slight tremor and Sebastian began to pound into your pussy. The sound of skin slapping, both of your moans and the obscene squelching from your pussy filled the room. “Oh fuck!” You yelled, feeling your orgasm building up already. “Fuck, so tight.” Sebastian groaned, thrusting into you even harder. His cock kept nudging against your g-spot, each time making you dizzier.

“D- Daddy… Can I cum? Please?!” You squealed, your voice louder than the banging that came from the bed headboard against the wall. “Fuck- No, hold it.” He growled, before moaning loudly, You clenched around his cock, the pleasure pushing you closer and closer to your release. Sebastian watched as your juices coated his cock, glistening with your arousal. “Please daddy?” You begged, knowing all too well that you might pass out if you don’t cum — at least that’s what it felt like. Your pussy squeezed him with all it’s mine, wetness dripping all over the sheets and you struggled to stop screaming. “Oh!” You gasp as he pushed the plug into you deeper. “Yeah, take in deep in your slutty, tight little pussy. You gonna cum, kitten? Such a good little pet!” He shouted, and you wailed. “Cum, cum all over my cock.” He commanded. The dam inside you broke as you came all over his cock, milking him. “Thank you, Daddy!” You mewled, bucking against his cock.

You babbled dumbly as you soon became overstimulated. Sebastian tugged on your leash and the bell on it rang non-stop. You tried to run away from him, the pleasure becoming too much. But you soon found yourself moving back against his cock, fucking yourself. “Poor kitten, can’t take my cock now even though you fuckin’ begged for it.” He spat, his thrusts growing sloppy. Your pussy spasmed as you came for the second time, your vision becoming darker than usual. You fell against the bed but you didn’t relent your grip on the wand. Your body was on fire, heart clamouring at such a rate that you couldn’t calm it down. “Oh fuck…” He groaned, pulling out of your pussy to stave off his orgasm. Your cum dripped from his cock as he flipped you onto your back and spread your legs wide.

Sebastian plummeted his cock back into your pussy and grabbed the sparkly dildo in the box. Before you could ask him what he was about to do, he slowly pushed the dildo alongside his cock. It wasn’t as big as his cock, no, but it was enough to have you screaming at him to stop. You pushed at his hard chest but he didn’t budge. Instead, he growled at you to stop. “...If you don’t listen then I could punish you by ending this little relationship, okay? I know you can’t survive without me, and you should remember that.” His words echoed in your mind like a memory that you wanted to forget but you were always reminded of it. You both moaned once he stopped pushing the dildo into your stretched out pussy. You were sure that he ruined you for anyone else.

He slowly began to thrust both his cock and the dildo in and out of you. His thrusts were slow but sharp and hard, even though they were slightly sloppy. You came for a third time, your mouth falling open as you let out a silent scream. Tears streamed down your cheeks again and you couldn’t take it anymore. “One more, kitten.” He bargained even though you knew you couldn’t object. His cock and the dildo hitting your g-spot over and over, the butt plug, and the hitachi wand were all too much for you. But they all ruined you over and over, and they all made you cum over and over. “Oh- Oh my god! ‘M gonna cum so fucking hard!” You preened, arching your back off the bed. You unintentionally pressed the hitachi wand harder against your clit, only intensifying your orgasm.

You gushed around Sebastian’s cock as thick, white, hot ropes of cum painted your walls. His cock pulsed in your pussy as he continued to fill you up. Shockwaves were sent throughout your body and you left the conscious world for a few seconds — making a quick trip to heaven. Or hell. Sebastian pulled out and watched as his cum followed both his cock and the dildo. Your sore hole gaped slightly, all fucked out and ruined. He turned the vibrators off and you curled up into a ball. You slowly descended from your powerful high, sighing heavily. You shut your eyes as you ushered Sebastian to cuddle you. But he just chuckled like a sadist. “Oh no kitten, did you think we were done?”

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halfwaythereroyalwrites · 4 years

Text

Long Enough (Oscar “Spooky” Diaz x Reader) Kilig One-Shot

Pairing: Oscar “Spooky” Diaz x Reader (tried to make this as gender neutral as possible)

Warnings: Fluffy not smutty like the title suggests 😅. Secondhand embarrassment from flirting. Mention of buying snacks. Play fighting. No other warnings I can think of unless your secondhand embarrassment is really bad.

Word count: 2k+

Kilig is a Tagalog word to describe the feeling of excitement and exhilaration and possibly embarrassment from anything remotely romantic.

Masterlist

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“Don’t you have some ‘important Santos business’ to do,” you teased, crossing your arms over your chest to reserve some warmth.

“Nah, I thought we could go somewhere tonight,” Oscar replied, looking up at you from the driver’s seat of his red ‘63 Chevy Impala. Even from where you stood, you could smell the intoxicating scent of his cologne wafting through the air. The very cologne he knew drove you wild and therefore refused to name, no matter how many times you asked. A slight breeze blew between you, sending a chill through your body. These cold LA nights were rare, and it caught you by surprise to be caught in one when walking home from Monse’s place.

The younger girl had asked you to have a night in with her to help take her mind off the latest drama with Cesar, and you happily obliged. Well...it was supposed to only be you and Monse. Five minutes into the night, Ruby and Jamal had shown up, eager to get in on a night of face masks, movies, and snacks. You didn’t realize how late it had been until you checked your phone and realized it was close to their curfew. After bidding Monse goodbye, you ushered Ruby and Jamal out and walked them back to their respective homes. This is how you got here now, in the middle of the street, talking to the big, bad leader of the Santos, Oscar Diaz.

Better known as Spooky.

“Where exactly are we going?” you asked, “There’s not much open right now.”

“Just get in the car. I thought you liked mystery and shit,” Oscar quipped, his signature smirk on his full lips. Your eyes narrowed at his answer, wondering what Oscar had in mind. Your time with Oscar consisted of movie nights at his place with tension so thick, you can cut through it with a knife. This was new and unexpected, and you weren’t sure if the fluttering feeling in your chest was a good thing or a bad thing yet. “Come on. I know your ass is freezing out here.”

You let out a dramatic sigh and walked over to the passenger’s side, mumbling loud enough for him to hear, “you’re lucky I’m fucking freezing out here...with your mysterious ass.” The passenger’s door was pushed open from the inside by Oscar, and you quickly ducked in and shut the door. Oscar shut the windows on his side, and you quickly did the same with your window, shutting out the air from further freezing you. He thankfully blasted the heater, and you wasted no time in adjusting the heaters to point directly at you, thawing the LA cold out of your body. “Why do you always drive with all your windows down? It’s so cold! See, feel!” Without warning, you grasped Oscar’s forearm with your cold, clammy hands.

Oscar sucked air in through his teeth at your sudden intrusion but did not make a move to pry your hands away, “Fuck, you’re cold!”

“See?! Ugh this is Southern California. We should never be this cold.” You retracted your hands away from him, realizing you were still holding on to his arm.

He smirked at the sight of you placing your face inches away from the nearest heater, the heater blowing your hair back, before shrugging, “I don’t know. I can warm you up if you want.” His voice became lower with every word he said, and you took notice of his raised eyebrow directed at you.

You cleared your throat, which has suddenly become dry, before saying, “Can we please get something hot to drink before we go?”

Oscar kissed his teeth before breaking out into a wide smile, making you forget the need to breathe for the briefest moment “Sure, buckle in.”

“Ugh thank you!” You reached around and buckled yourself into your seat and proceeded to lean closer to the heaters. The car was silent as he steered one-handed through the dimly lit streets of Freeridge. There weren’t many people out, and the only sounds to be heard were the blasting heaters and the low rumble of the engine. You took a deep breath in and leaned back into the seat before asking, “So where are we going?”

“I told you it was a surprise.” Another silence ensued as you turned your head to look at the Santos leader, who was looking straight ahead at the road, his face void of any expression.

“...but can I get a hint of where we’re going?”

“No.”

“...if we’re having a movie night, you could have just texted.”

“It’s not a movie night.”

“You haven’t texted me in the past few days,” you whispered. “That’s not like you.”

“I had to figure some shit out. I’m here now, aren’t I?” His response made you press your lips together and look out your window, crossing your arms once more. You could feel the heat of Oscar’s gaze intermittently focusing on you, burning the side of your head. The rush of heat going to your ears was accompanied by the audible thumping in your chest. You leaned your body against the passenger’s side door as much as you could and started contemplating words to say when Oscar’s hand gripped your left thigh. “Hey. Hey look at me.” You continued to stare out the window. “Hey, I’m sorry alright? Things got real tense with the Prophet$, and I had to sort shit out. I forgot to text you. I’m sorry.” You turned to meet his gaze, and it seemed all your anger had melted away with just a look into his dark eyes.

“Thank you. I was worried about you, and no one knew where you went, so I thought...something had happened to you,” you begrudgingly admitted, hyper-aware of the fact that Oscar’s hand on your thigh set a warm fire throughout your body. You wanted to throw up. Or hold his hand. Maybe. This...this...pounding in your chest. The sudden rush of warmth in your ears. The hairs on your arm standing up. Cold and hot at the same time with heat slowly crawling from your neck to your cheeks. What is this?!

“You don’t gotta worry about me,” Oscar’s voice broke through your storming internal monologue. Did his voice get deeper somehow? “I’ll always come back for you, babe,” he chuckled.

“Ok that’s...not necessary,” you made a weak attempt to push Oscar’s hand away as your cheeks burned in embarrassment over his new nickname for you. Oscar only squeezed your thigh in return and kept his hand exactly where it was. You watched him skillfully steer one-handed into the parking lot of the nearest corner store and turn the engine off. The still silence prompted you to turn your head to the handsome man seated next to you, only to find him already turned to you.

“What are you looking at?” You saw Oscar’s devastatingly dark eyes flit back and forth, holding your gaze as if reading your eyes could give a hint of the storm currently occurring in your mind. Oscar let out a chuckle before squeezing your thigh and giving it a light slap.

“Let’s grab snacks too. I’m hungry.” He let go of your thigh and exited the Impala, leaving you in a daze. Your hand instinctively covered the area on your thigh that his hand previously occupied, lightly feeling the remnants of his warm touch. Shaking your head at your actions, you unbuckled your seatbelt and reached for the car door, only for the handle to be pulled away from your reach by Oscar, who had pulled the door open for you. You muttered a low thanks, eyebrows furrowed at the Santos leader. He locked the car before walking ahead of you and opening the front door of the corner store, holding it open for you to walk in, You glanced at him suspiciously before thanking him again and walking into the store, taking note of the slight brush of his hand against your hip. You made a beeline for the hot drink station at the back of the store, clasping your hands together and slightly shivering as you shuffled over. Oscar was not far behind you, acting as your taller shadow, his breath slightly fanning over your neck as he looked over your shoulder. You swallowed the knot forming in your throat and kept it suppressed by making small talk. When it came time to pay for your snacks, Oscar had pulled out a wad of bills faster than you could grab the card out of your wallet. He grabbed the snacks as you told him a halfhearted promise to pay him back.

“Don’t worry about it. I gotchu,” he smiled, placing his hand on your waist and ushering you out the door. His cologne has taken over all your senses now, and the wires of your brain were beginning to short circuit. You found it hard to even think outside of this time with him. You found yourself taking notice of all the small ways he was currently driving you insane.

Like the way he still kept a hold on your thigh as he drove.

And how he told you about how he had watched the food show you had recommended on Netflix.

And how he asked you to feed him a gummy worm and you felt the faint touch of his lips as you placed one in his mouth.

He also told you to reply to a text from Sad Eyes on his behalf, telling him that he can’t hang out right now.

And with every laugh and every smile, he would squeeze your thigh which would send a jolt of endorphins through your body.

Before long, the winding road Oscar was driving up on ended on a flat lookout. There were only two other cars there, considerably distanced from the two of you. Oscar had parked the car to where the trunk was facing the twinkling lights of Freeridge down below. Without saying a word, he got out of the car and popped the trunk open, where he pulled out a large blanket, big enough to fit the two of you. You got out of the car, clutching your drink, snacks in the other hand, and let a cheesing smile make its way onto your face.

“What is this?” you asked Oscar who was now looking at you expectedly.

“I thought we could just chill for tonight. See the stars and shit,” he gestured upwards to the dark sky. You giggled at the lack of stars in the sky. Typical for Los Angeles. You handed your drink to Oscar who took it without question.

“May I?” you asked, looking between him and the trunk of his car. Oscar nodded, and you jumped up on the top of his trunk, and he followed suit, wrapping both you and him in the blanket. You rested your weight against him, placing your head on his shoulder. A comfortable silence settled between the two of you as you looked at the yellow lights of the city below. “Why did you actually bring me here?”

“...I wanted to ask you something.” You slowly raised your head off his shoulder, and looked at him, his face laced with an emotion you couldn’t quite pinpoint.

“What is it?” you whispered.

Oscar cleared his throat before focusing his dark gaze on you. “We’ve been hanging out for a while, and I thought...that maybe...we could give this a real shot.”

You grinned. “Oscar Diaz. Are you asking me to go steady with you?”

Oscar kissed his teeth at your teasing grin. “Come on, I’m being serious!”

“So am I! Are you asking me to be in a relationship or to be exclusive? They’re sort of different nowadays.”

“The first part.”

“...I need to hear you say it.”

Oscar gazed at you before cupping your face in his hand, his thumb gently rubbing your cheek. He whispered your name before asking, “will you be in a relationship with me?” You blinked at him a couple times before your hand came to meet his hand that was still caressing your face. You held his wrist and kissed the inside of his palm.

“...what’s the magic word?”

Oscar rolled his eyes at you before whispering, “please?”

You smiled before nodding, a little too enthusiastically. Oscar shook his head at you before returning your smile with a bright one of his own. “Ok now hold me,” you demanded, flinging his hand away from your cheek to go around your shoulder. You snuggled into the warmth of his body as he drew you closer and placed a kiss to your temple. “Took you long enough to ask me,” you whispered.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

______________________________________

A/N: I have finally broken my writer’s block. There’s quite a few life changes and obstacles I’m going through, and finally being able to finish a fic was so satisfying. Let me know what you think and if you want to be added to my taglist!

General: @peppermintvanillaa @fantasticcopeaglepasta @panda-angela

Kilig taglist: @multifandomlife22 @thottiewinemom @princeabomination @svetlana-beilschmidt

#oscar diaz x reader #spooky diaz x reader #Oscar spooky Diaz x reader #spooky x reader #oscar diaz imagine #oscar spooky diaz imagine #spooky diaz imagine #on my block imagine #on my block fic #halfwaythereroyalwrites #kilig series #kilig one-shot

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handsomelyhiddleston · 3 years

Text

Dark Queen, Bright King - Tom Hiddleston x Emo/Alt Reader

You and Tom were different. At your core you shared many interests and values as well as your playful natures and senses of humor, but if someone were to see you walking down the street together, they might have a few questions.

“What are you going to wear on the show?” you asked your now husband. You and Tom had been married for nearly a month after dating for about two years and he had finally convinced you to let him introduce you to the world.

“I don’t know, actually.” Tom sat down on the couch next to you and pulled you into his side. “I can’t decide between wearing the most colorfully obnoxious outfit I could get away with or pulling a Ragnarok and wearing head to toe black.”

You laughed, dragging your finger up and down Tom’s thigh. “I can’t lie, the black-on-black suit does make me feel a way…”

“Of course, you pick the black suit.” Tom teased, pulling you into a heated kiss as your fingers trailed dangerously close to his manhood.

You turned to straddle Tom’s lap, slowly unbuttoning his shirt. His hands couldn’t stay still, moving from your legs to your ass to your waist. “I didn’t pick the black suit.” You said, leaning forward to press kisses across his jaw and down his neck. “I think you should wear one of your stunning bright suits.”

“But you said…” Tom tried to reply, already having a hard time staying on topic.

“I said it makes me feel a way.” You pushed Tom’s shirt down his arms and ran your hands slowly up his torso. “What you’re forgetting…” you pulled your shirt over your head to reveal a black lace bra, “is that you’re always making me fall further and more in love with you just by being you.”

Tom pulled you tighter to him, pressing sloppy kisses to your breasts. “God, I love you.”

The two of you could never keep your hands off of each other. This was the second time TODAY you’d made love. Slowly. Lazily. Just happy to be in each other’s embrace.

As you laid against his chest, still on the couch, and let your breathing slow back to normal you looked up at your husband. “I fell in love with you exactly as you are.” You traced invisible patterns softly into Tom’s chest with your fingertip. “I love how bold and bright and charismatic you are. I love that you like classical music and how excited you get when people ask you questions about Shakespeare and that you’re always the most polite person in the room. I wouldn’t change a thing about you.”

You could feel a laugh rumble in Tom’s chest. He pulled your hand to his lips and gently kissed it. “I’m ever grateful for that.” Tom twirled a piece of your hair between his fingers as he spoke. “I wouldn’t change a thing about you, either. I can’t wait to tell the world how much I love you.”

“How are you going to break the news that the actor behind everyone’s favorite trickster has finally settled down?”

“You’ll have to wait and see.” Tom smirked.

The two of you had met on a Broadway show set. You were in charge of make-up and costume design, and you’d hit it off with Tom straight away.

At first, he found you intriguing. Your style spectrum went from absolute tomboy to fitted dresses, but the color black was the common denominator. You had various tattoos sprawled across your skin and there really was no way to know what color hair you’d show up with the following day. He loved how sure of yourself you were and how little you worried over what those around you may or may not be thinking.

Little did he know, you thought the same of him. First, he was the most attractive person in the room whether he was wearing a ten-thousand-dollar suit or a pair of black joggers and a t-shirt. He always commanded the room with his bright disposition and you’d never once seen him have a diva moment. He was intelligent…not only with information, but emotionally.

One day after a show, while you were gently removing his stage make-up, he kept smiling up at you.

“What’s got you so happy?” you asked.

“Well, we’ve got a week break. First real break we’ve had since the show started.” His answer made sense, but you noticed his cheeks were blushing.

“You get a whole week without having to deal with me smearing things all over your face” you teased, throwing the make-up remover wipes away.

Tom cleared his throat. “I was actually hoping we could make plans?” He reached out and grabbed one of your hands in both of his.

It took you a second to realize he was being serious. “Is Mr. polite and proper asking me on a date?”

Tom laughed, ducking his head. “That depends on whether or not Ms. dark and spooky is willing to give Mr. polite and proper a chance.”

The two of you ended up spending the entire week together. You talked about film scores and music. Horror movie classics and period pieces. Your favorite projects that you’ve worked on. Friends and family. Even though the two of you looked so different, you fit perfectly into each other’s lives. That brought you to this moment, with your husband about to tell the world about your existence.

The Graham Norton show is filmed on a Thursday and aired on a Friday. You were surprised that no one had leaked the news between filming and airing.

“Welcome to the show TOM HIDDLESTON!” The audience, as usual, went wild. Graham always loved teasing Tom and making him blush, so when Tom reached out to let Graham know he wanted to announce something important and that he wanted to do it on the show, Graham booked it immediately.

“Welcome back, Tom.”

“Thanks for having me” Tom answered, greeting everyone else on the couch with him including Eddie Redmayne and Kenneth Branagh.

They talked for a minute about Tom’s latest projects and such.

“So, Tom. I hear you’ve had a lot of big things happen this year?” Graham was genuinely curious what Tom was going to announce.

“That I have.” Tom replied, looking to be thinking about them. “I mean, one…I bought a house outside of London.”

“Wonderful, wonderful. What else?” Graham continued.

“Oh, I also experienced my first mosh pit” he said so casually.

��You did what, dear?” Kenneth interjected.

“Why wasn’t I invited to this?” Eddie asked, laughing at everyone’s reaction. Eddie obviously already knew what Tom was going to announce as him and Tom had been friends since they were teenagers. Eddie was at the wedding, even.

“Hold up! Hold up.” Graham said, waving his arms. “How on God’s green earth did you end up in a mosh pit?”

“Well, thankfully I didn’t end up IN it. For my first go, I just stood very very close to it.” Tom explained, making the room laugh.

Kenneth turned to Tom. “Why were you anywhere near it?”

“Well, my wife had been asking me to go to one of…” Tom started explaining.

Graham did a dramatic double take before reaching out and grabbing Tom’s arm, interrupting his story. “Did you say your wife?”

“Yes, my wife y/n. She loves this band Bring Me The Horizon, and her friend couldn’t make it to the show so she asked me if I would go with her.” Tom had the biggest smile on his face, finally being able to talk about you.

“Screw the mosh pit and the house near London, I want to hear about your wife!” Graham pushed.

“Well, I guess the biggest thing that happened this year was that I married the love of my life.” Tom blushed, looking back at the screen. He had given the production team a few photos to show.

On screen first was a photo from your wedding. You were in a beautiful, gothy, black, long-sleeve, plunge neckline, lace dress and Tom was in an amazing dark red suit with a black shirt.

“You two look incredible.” Graham complimented, watching the photo change.

“Thank you, she’s a million times cooler than I am.” Tom laughed. “But for some reason she agreed to spend the rest of her life with me.”

The second photo was a candid photo from the greenroom where you met. You were concentrating on getting Tom’s stage make-up perfect and he was just staring at you, adoration clear on his face.

“As you can see, I was smitten.” Tom pointed out.

“Is that how you met?” Graham asked. Tom told the story and explained how long the two of you had been dating, then engaged, and then married.

“I’m surprised you were able to keep it private for so long” Graham commented.

As the final photo came up, Tom started explaining. “This is a photo of Y/n at one of my family gatherings.” It was a photo of you on the living room floor with his nieces and nephews. You were laying on your stomach and painting all of the kid’s nails. “We had only been together for a little over a month I believe. We had just concluded the show where we met, and I asked her to come to London with me. She was so nervous.”

“Well, it looks like she had no reason to worry.” Graham said.

“Not at all. The kids never left her side.” Tom replied, smiling as he looked at the photo. “Everyone loved her. Everyone that meets her loves her, to be honest.”

“Well, when she’s ready you’ll have to bring her on the show.” Graham suggested.

“I think having you two in a room together would be dangerous.” Tom laughed.

“Whatever could you mean?” Graham tried to act innocent, and Tom just raised his eyebrows and gave him a *you know what you did* look. “Fine, no fanfiction involved. Honest to God.”

Everyone laughed and the show moved onto Kenneth after Tom received many congratulations.

#Tom Hiddleston #Tom Hiddleston x reader #Tom Hiddleston Imagine #Loki

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hermannsthumb · 3 years

Note

you should totally do something with ksci janitor’s vamp newt it’s so just so good

i sure will! in a vampire mood this weekend. @k-sci-janitor's vampire newt found here. warnings for quick mention of drinking, allusions to sexy stuff, and also the different kind of drinking you'd expect from a vampire fic (tho on the vague side)

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

The circumstances that led Newt down the unwitting path of immortality and general un-dead-ness are, in hindsight, honestly kind of embarrassing. It'd be one thing if he could say it happened in the pursuit of, like, knowledge, like the fierce jellyfish sting scar on his wrist leftover from a research expedition when he was twenty-two or the equally fierce one on his knee received in response to his question (at the age of five) of what would happen if I jumped out of this very tall tree?, or even something unrelated to his extensive biology career, something impressive, y'know, Van Helsing style, something like tracking down some vampire king and barely escaping with his life (un-life?)—not what really happened, which was little more than a bad date. And not even the worst date that Newt's been on, if you can believe it.

Newt was young and stupid then. He still is young and stupid, technically, though the former by appearance only. (Eternally pushing thirty. If he could've picked, he would've done twenty-eight, just before his handful of grey hairs started cropping up. Newt's had almost forty-five years of staring in the mirror at those four fucking grey hairs. He gave up dyeing them around the nineties. Not worth it. Still annoying.) He liked to do what young and stupid people did, like get stupid tattoos, and have a stupid haircut, and get drunk at stupid punk shows and not stumble home until he'd had at least one regrettable hook-up with a stranger and maybe lost his wallet. (The two were often related.) That particular thing was what did him in that night. It was a different time back then, man—if a dude showed even the slightest inkling that he ran in Newt's sort of circle, if you caught his drift, Newt fucking jumped at the chance.

(The band was on their second set of the evening and Newt had already screamed himself hoarse with singing along. He'd ducked outside in a back alleyway for only a second to get some fresh air, the club suddenly too hot and smokey for him to handle, and was just about to go back inside and close out his tab for the night when he realized he wasn't alone. There was someone—he was sure—lurking in the shadows a few feet away. He could hear breathing. He could see—eyes, maybe, in the dim neon light of the bar sign overhead. "Hello?" he'd called.

"Have a light?" the person called back.

They emerged from the shadows, and Newt felt himself relax at once. It was some spooky-looking guy he remembered seeing in the club, leather jacket, boots heavier than Newt's, dark hair and eyeliner. Tall. Newt remembered him, firstly, because he thought he was hot, and secondly, because he swore he caught the guy staring at him at least three times, and to Newt, that was as good as any pick-up line. He was wagging an unlit cigarette at Newt now. He was taller than Newt thought he was back in the bar—much taller, at least a full head on Newt. His eyes were a golden-brown, almost yellow, like a cat's, and Newt found himself unable to tear his own away from them. "L—light?" Newt echoed.

The guy stuck the cigarette in his mouth and arched a perfect eyebrow. Newt didn't smoke, but he did keep a lighter on him for occasions like this. He fumbled through his pockets for it while the guy stepped closer. "I was watching you," he told Newt, while Newt raised the lighter to the cigarette, "in there."

The flame danced and glinted against his eyes. Newt swallowed. "Uh-huh?" he said.

He flicked the lighter shut, leaving them both bathed in nothing but pink neon. A hand slid up against the wall next to Newt's right shoulder. Another plucked at the left lapel of his jacket. Newt was still staring at those eyes. "What's your name?" the guy said, in a puff of cigarette smoke.

"Um." Newt's leather jacket was being pushed off his shoulders. He felt his long hair being tucked to the side of his neck. All at once something seemed in snap in Newt—some reminder of where he was, and what he came here hoping for in the first place. Some hot dude was eyeing Newt up all night long, and now he was actually coming onto Newt, and Newt was about to get laid. He grinned. "Newt," he said. "Just call me that. You were watching me, huh?"

"All night," the guy said.

Newt's jacket hit the ground with a soft thump. A knee was being pushed between his. Newt felt his cheeks heat up a little—he wasn't used to people being this forward with him, and especially not in a semi-public place like this. Usually they at least made a show of offering up their apartment first. "What, um, what for?" he said.

They were kissing. Newt was clinging to the back of his jacket. And then he was kissing Newt's neck, and then he was—

"That kinda hurts," Newt mumbled. "Um, dude, I think your—your fuckin', tongue piercing cut me, or something. It's—"

It was hard to keep his eyes open. His neck felt weird. The guy was into biting, apparently, biting really hard, and yikes, that was going to leave a super embarrassing hickey that Newt would have to explain to his students somehow on Monday, but it also felt really good, like, Newt was maybe getting off kinda good, and Newt thought, dizzily, that he should at least return the favor before he finished up and collapsed in a happy heap on the ground. So he did.

The guy pulled back with a hiss. "Ow. What—?"

Newt tasted something coppery in his mouth, and he panicked and swallowed on instinct. "Oh, shit, dude, I'm sorry," he slurred. His voice sounded like it was a million miles away. "I was trying to be—sexy. Um." There was blood on the guy's chin. He was staring at Newt in something akin to horror. Dark circles were spotting Newt's vision. "I think you cut your lip," he said, and then he passed out.

Newt was alone when he woke up. It was still dark, too. He walked the two miles home, collapsing in bed, fully-clothed, just before dawn, and he didn't wake up again until sunset. He forgot his jacket, but at least he remembered his wallet this time.)

So, anyway, Newt thinks he can be forgiven if he...embellishes stuff a little when, for the first time in his whole long life, he finally spills the details to someone. Also, no way is he admitting the truth to Hermann of all people.

"There were a bunch of murders in the area at the time," he says, while Hermann, angled on his side next to him in bed, watches him raptly. It's kind of weird pillow talk, but their pillow talk rarely isn't weird. Usually Hermann will launch into a critique of Newt's latest pet theory before Newt's even caught his breath. At least he very courteously waited for Newt get a glass of water from the bathroom first this time. "Really brutal ones. Like, throats torn out, blood drained. Really nasty shit. Everyone was saying they were some kinda bizarre wolf pack attacks, but I knew better."

"Of course you did," Hermann says, running his hand down Newt's chest, and Newt can't tell if he's being sarcastic or not. (He has a feeling he is.)

"You bet," Newt says. "It took me months of, um, super hard research. Finally I hunted him down to this—" Newt debates the coolest lair possible of a vampire, and then remembers Lost Boys, which, even though he resents it slightly for totally stealing the vampire vibes he was going for, is still a kick-ass movie. "—this weird cave, where he lived. The king of the vampires. I won, obviously, but he fought back, and he managed to infect me just before I hammered the, um, the wooden stake into his heart."

"So courageous," Hermann says. He reaches up and tucks a piece of Newt's long hair back. Hermann being totally cool with the whole vampire thing, and maybe even possibly into the whole vampire thing, is probably the last thing in the world Newt expected from him. They're no strangers to hooking up during long late nights of science, but Newt swears it's gotten more frequent. "You must've been terrified."

"Nah," Newt says, though he remembers the glint of the flame off those yellow eyes, and he shivers. Hermann notices; his eyes, not yellow, but a warm shade of brown that makes Newt feel like he's being wrapped in a blanket, soften. If Newt could still blush, he would. "I'm—um—I'm pretty brave."

Newt hadn't exactly been planning on telling Hermann about the whole thing, but (last week) he had the very unfortunate timing of beginning a late-night dinner just as an oblivious Hermann strolled back into the lab to pick up his forgotten pair of glasses. To his credit, he only freaked out a little when he saw Newt draining a blood bag like a fucking Capri-Sun, and even then (after what felt like ten years of horrible, horrible silence) all he said was "You're the one who's been stealing those from medical?"

Look. Newt hasn't drank from a human being the entirety of his un-life, and he doesn't plan on it any time soon. He's...a vegetarian. Effectively. It's sort of the reason he picked up a medical degree along the way once he got tired of breaking into blood banks. Even if it's still a little ethically dubious to steal blood like that, at least he's not swooping around on unsuspecting people like that—goth asshole who swooped in on him did. (Newt's never managed to find out who he was—he suspects he was some sort of vampire drifter in town that night just to find a victim. And Newt just had to think with his dick at the worst possible time.)

Hermann tucks another strand of Newt's hair back. Newt also did not expect how fast Hermann became cool with the whole thing, but on the other hand, giant aliens are clawing their way out of the ocean on a bi-monthly basis these days. It's hard to be skeptical about most things. ("Well, it does make logical sense," Hermann had said with an eyeroll. "When you consider some of your rather more bizarre quirks, I mean. I ought to have guessed it ages ago. I suppose that's why you have that awful haircut," and that stung, because yeah, Newt hasn't felt like changing it up since the seventies, and why should he, it kinda rules? but he just laughed it off and said, "You're one to fucking talk, dude!") "Newton," Hermann says now, gently, "what actually happened?"

Newt sighs. Hermann always knows when he's lying about shit. "I was making out with a vampire in an alleyway and then he bit me. And—um—I kinda didn't notice at first, 'cause it felt... good."

"Mm," Hermann says. The corner of his mouth twitches up. "That's more along the lines of what I expected. That, or you were hounding him for details like a proper biologist and he got tired of answering your inane questions."

"Very funny," Newt says. "Ha."

Hermann rolls away from him and stretches his arms above his head. Newt watches his throat work as he yawns, swallowing down a sudden lump in his own, and he feels a surge of something hot and—alien—in the pit of his stomach. "Over forty years," Hermann says. He picks up Newt's discarded sweatshirt from the floor and tugs it down over his head. "You must get terrifically lonely."

Newt half-shrugs. "I guess. I'm kinda used to it by now." His dad (who never brought up how Newt's aging seemed to be at a standstill when they saw each other, not once) is long-gone. Newt's tried dating, but no one's ever seemed to be into it as much as he is—and besides, it's not like he could ever do the actual til death do us part thing unless he went against every ethical bone in his body and made someone like him. When the internet became a thing, he considered making a forum or something to find more of his kind, but the thought everyone just being like the guy who accidentally turned him in the first place terrified him and he killed the page before it even left infancy. So, without any better ideas, Newt forged some paperwork and leaned pretty hard into the world of academia to fill up his sad little hole of a heart, resigned himself to casual flings with anyone who seemed interested, and it mostly worked. Mostly. And then the kaiju came along, and then so did... "You make it a little bit better," he confesses.

Hermann lays back down next to him. "I do?" he says.

Newt thinks he sees something like that hot, hungry feeling he felt in his stomach flash behind Hermann's eyes. He nods.

Hermann suddenly kisses Newt, pulling him down on top of him, and then tugs the collar of Newt's stolen sweatshirt down below his collarbone. He drags Newt's hand up to press against his throat. Newt feels the erratic beat of Hermann's pulse beneath his fingertips, his heart pounding against his ribcage (pressed up against Newt's silent one), and he almost moans. "Have you ever...?" Hermann murmurs, gazing up at Newt through his dark eyelashes.

"N—never," Newt stammers. "I told you."

"Do you want to?" Hermann says. Newt tries not to gape. "Just a bit at a time, whenever you need. You wouldn't have to steal those silly blood bags anymore. And—" He hesitates. "I admit I am curious. About the sensation."

"Um," Newt says. "I—"

He feels something sharp poking his lower lip. Fangs. His fangs. Oh, shit, he's never had that happen before. He forces himself off of Hermann before he does something stupid.

"Maybe, um, maybe later?" he squeaks, while Hermann just smiles at him.

#newmann #maria's fanfiction tag

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mintugiyuu · 3 years

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Hi pepper ! (omg such a cute name) 💓 can I pls request modern au bf giyuu headcanons? I was just watching the valentine's day special and he seems so (unexpectedly) romantic? 🥺 I really wanna read your take on modern giyuu bc I loved the way you wrote him on the roadtrip hcs !

Tbh I think he'd still be quiet and awkward a bit but he'd be such an attentive and doting sweetheart, literally the perfect gentleman if he was raised by his sister because that's what tsutako taught him 💓 basically the same as the og giyuu from the taisho era but without the trauma and inferiority complex that prevents him from getting closer to others LOL anyway I hope this makes sense ! Sorry for rambling and thank you in advance 💓💓💓

> you have no idea how excited I was to see this request; I love writing my soft giyuu head-canons, and in modern day?? the possibilities are endless, thank you anon 🙏

> aw thank you hun! you’re v sweet! <3 I’m so so happy you liked my characterization of him, he’s one of my favorite characters and I love to write him soft ;3; no need to apologize, ramble away my friend!

> thank you again for requesting and I hope you enjoyed! this made my day to write! <3

༄ modern au! boyfriend giyuu head-canons.

sfw head-canons:

➥ pairing || tomioka giyuu x reader

➥ warnings || mentions of food and eating

giyuu would still be very awkward and silent, but in a less gloomy way. he is naturally an introvert, so he tends to keep to himself; but once comfortable, he’s surprisingly open and a bit talkative.

he is the definition of chivalrous, because of course tsutako nee-san wouldn’t raise him any other way. plus, as I’ve mentioned, giyuu shows his love through actions, not so much words.

holding open doors for you, pulling out chairs for you, lending his never-ending collection of hoodies to you for when you’re cold; the list goes on.

giyuu’s favorite out of that list is lending you his hoodies.

if you’re smaller than him, then he finds it absolutely adorable how the hoodie swallows you whole.

if you’re taller, then he purposely upsizes his hoodie wardrobe so you fit into them. most people will then assume that he’s wearing your hoodies, since he now looks small in his own.

being a quiet, more introverted man, he enjoys quieter dates.

stargazing is a favorite; laying side by side on your roof with blankets draped over the both of you; your head resting against his chest as he lets you point out constellations and other brighter stars.

other date ideas include: movie dates (theater or creating a pillow fort at home and watching it in there); beach dates or walks along the beach; car rides to nowhere, hearing you sing your head off to music; sitting in the corner of the empty cafe, watching your favorite shows on his laptop with headphones in.

he also enjoys going to the pet store with you and playing with the kittens that the store keeps.

it wouldn’t take long for you and giyuu to adopt a kitten and name them “tuffy”, a nickname you have for giyuu in the morning because of how bad his bed head gets.

giyuu is not a morning person in the slightest; so if you were trying to get out of bed to get ready for the day, he’d sleepily grip your arm, gently pulling you back into bed and hugging you from behind, mumbling “5 more minutes”.

five minutes turns to two hours if you’re not careful or persistent enough.

even after you get him out of bed, he’s falling asleep in his cereal.

in another post I mentioned the two tap system; even if you’re not so shy, he’d still use that system for himself because he is.

giyuu would be holding your hand in public and suddenly tap the top of your hand with his thumb, giving it a gentle squeeze.

if you were to say “I love you, too” and kiss him on the cheek, he’d blink a bit in surprise before averting his eyes.

the amount of times you’d successfully fluster him is too much to count.

he loves to send you random pictures throughout the day since he’s such a dry texter (not purposely, he just doesn’t have a way with words).

most come out blurry because he sucks at taking photos, but you’d appreciate the shaky video of a baby duck following giyuu around the park he was at.

don’t get me started with selfies. most times you wouldn’t be able to help yourself from laughing at how terribly awkward and out of his element he looks in the picture.

not a selfie guy.

but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t have an album on his phone dedicated for selfies of you as well as photos of you both.

he likes to look through them time to time, smiling to himself in secret as he remembers the memory from the photo fondly.

giyuu will visit you at work if you don’t work from home, bringing you your favorite snack/treat/drink to make your day a bit better.

he’ll even stay as you consume it to listen to you rant about the latest drama or gossip in your work place.

the way giyuu normally gives affection is hidden, in a way; kisses on the back of your head, hugging you from the back, things such as that.

you’ll probably be the one to initiate things face to face; he’ll happily oblige, if not a bit slowly.

the ravenette also loves to take you over to dinner at his sister’s place; she refers to you as family by now, always thanking you for taking care of her “little giyuu” and welcomes you with open arms.

overall, he’s just one big awkward, dorky, quiet sweetheart that’s very happy to have someone like you to come home to.

#🎣.requests #sfw #head canons #kny #demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #kny x reader #demon slayer x reader #kimetsu no yaiba x reader #kny reader insert #demon slayer reader insert #kimetsu no yaiba reader insert #tomioka giyuu #tomioka giyuu x reader

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joshjacksons · 3 years

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Joshua Jackson interview with "Mr Porter" (2021)

Minutes before Mr Joshua Jackson joins me in a booth for a Friday afternoon drink at a vibey hotel bar in Santa Monica, he’s confronted by his past. Or rather, a woman in her early twenties who is binge-watching Dawson’s Creek, the teen show about a close-knit group of high-school friends coming of age in a sleepy American town, which made Jackson incredibly famous between 1998 and 2003. The series, which also made household names of Ms Michelle Williams and Ms Katie Holmes, went off air 18 years ago, but is now streaming on Netflix, to the bemusement of Jackson, who played lovable rogue Pacey Witter. “This girl was like, ‘Are you...?’ And I’m like, ‘Yes, I am. He got old. I’m sorry to break it to you,’” he says, before ordering an iced tea and a charcuterie board to tide him over until dinner time. “It always surprises me when young people say they’ve just got into Dawson’s Creek. I’m like, ‘Is it a costume drama to you? Do you feel like you’re watching a historical documentary?’”

The idea of a Friends-style reunion episode or a Sex And The City revival feels equally far-fetched to Canadian-born Jackson, now 43 and wearing it well in a pale green linen shirt and tailored linen trousers by Oliver Spencer that complement his fading brown hair and Cali-tanned skin.

“I don’t know why you’d want to [bring it back],” he says. “Nobody needs to know what those characters are doing in middle age. We left them in a nice place. Nobody needs to see that Pacey’s back hurts. I don’t think we need that update.”

And Jackson doesn’t need Dawson’s Creek. From Mr JJ Abrams’ sci-fi series Fringe (2008-2013) to the Golden Globe award-winning The Affair (2014-2019), from Ms Ava DuVernay’s ground-breaking true-crime drama When They See Us (2019) to the recent Ms Reese Witherspoon and Ms Kerry Washington-produced Little Fires Everywhere (2020), he has commanded the small screen – with a collection of dynamic and diverse work – ever since.

His latest role as Mr Christopher Duntsch, the Texas surgeon convicted of gross malpractice when 33 of his patients were left seriously injured after he operated on them and two of them died, in chilling Peacock crime drama Dr Death, is only stepping his career up another gear.

“I’ve never played anyone irredeemable before,” says Jackson, who is joined in the eight-part series (based on the 2018 Wondery podcast of the same name) by Messrs Christian Slater and Alec Baldwin. “He is charming, gregarious and has a high-level intellect, but he’s also a misogynist, probably a sociopath, certainly a narcissist and a complete incompetent who is incapable of seeing himself.”

If Duntsch is terrifying, then Jackson’s portrayal is even more so. The artist formerly known as Pacey is virtually unrecognisable (thanks to prosthetics) in the opening scene, but the real challenge for Jackson was allowing himself to view someone who is so “spectacularly evil” as a human being in order to walk in his shoes. “It’s a more damning portrayal of the man to make him into a human being, rather than just make him the bad guy,” he says. “He really believes he’s the hero, he’s the genius and that he’s the victim, so once I got past my own judgment, all the other things fell into place.”

Jackson might have his pick of stellar roles – and challenges – now, but it has not happened by accident. Take it from someone who has been in the business since landing his first job aged 14 in Disney’s live-action movie series The Mighty Ducks, opposite Brat Pack alumnus Mr Emilio Estevez.

“You try to make it look like it happens accidentally,” he says, “but there is no way to do this and not be ambitious. I’d say I’m extremely ambitious because I’ve been doing this cutthroat job for nearly 30 years. I’m in the pay-off phase of my career now. One of the benefits of surviving for as long as I have is you get to learn from your own mistakes.”

Such as? “I wouldn’t say, ‘I wish I hadn’t done that,’ because it all becomes bricks in a path, but [after Dawson’s Creek] I was not choosy enough about the things I was doing. You get stuck. You start trying to perform the performance you think people are hoping to see you do. I was so used to working all the time that I just worked all the time. There was definitely a conscious moment in my mid-twenties when I realised I wasn’t really enjoying the work that I was doing. My manager at the time just said, ‘Take a breath. You’re burnt out.’”

The turning point came in 2005, when Jackson was offered a role in the two-hander Mr David Mamet play A Life In The Theatre, opposite Sir Patrick Stewart. “God bless him, Patrick could have made my life miserable because I had no idea what I was doing, ” he says. “I hadn’t been on stage since I was a kid and now I was in the West End in over my head. But it reminded me that I actually enjoyed being an actor, that it’s not about the red carpet or travelling around the world. What I really enjoy is working on good material with good people.”

It’s no surprise Jackson’s time on Dawson’s Creek led to a career crisis. From the ages of 19 to 24, he lived with his fellow cast mates in Wilmington, North Carolina, filming day in, day out, in an arrangement he likens to college. “You get to the end and they’re like, ‘Here’s your degree. Go live now. You’re an adult. Go out into the world,’” he says.

But most graduates don’t have to deal with global fame. “It’s transitory. You’re only ever cool for a moment and then you become much less cool. I was always pretty dubious about flatterers,” he says, recalling a time he was stung in London in the mid-2000s. “I went on a date in Hyde Park with a woman whose name I will not use – she was socialite-famous – and she was acting completely bizarre, looking over her shoulder the whole time. I came to find out that she had hired a photographer to follow us through the park and gave a whole story to the tabloids about how I was going to meet her family.”

It was his growing fortune, rather than fame, that caused Jackson the most anxiety. “Suddenly, at 19 years old, I was making more in a week than most of my friends’ parents would make in a year,” he says. “It was lovely to have the money, but it was that feeling of nobody is worth that kind of money. You feel like a fraud and it took me a long time to forgive myself for not being the thing that I was perceived as.”

Born in Vancouver, but raised in Topanga, California, until he was eight (before moving back to Vancouver following his parents’ divorce), Jackson bought his childhood home in 2001 and lives in it today with his wife, British Queen & Slim actor Ms Jodie Turner-Smith, and their 15-month-old daughter.

“My father unfortunately was not a good father or a husband and exited the scene, but that house in Topanga was where everything felt simple, so it was a very healing thing for me to do,” he says. Fast-forward to 2021 and his baby daughter now sleeps in her father’s childhood bedroom. “There was a mural of a dragon on the wall in that room that I couldn’t believe was still there, years later. The owner [who sold him the house] said, ‘I knew it meant a lot to somebody and that they were going to come back for it some day.’”

Becoming a first-time parent during a pandemic sounds stressful, but it afforded Jackson months at home with his wife and child that his normal work schedule wouldn’t have allowed.

“I now recognise how perverse the way that we have set up our society is,” he says. “There is not a father I know who works a regular job who didn’t go back to the office a week later. It’s robbing that man of the opportunity to bond with his child and spend time with his partner.”

Despite his obvious career ambitions, fatherhood has changed Jackson’s priorities in “every possible way”, he says. “It’s 100 per cent changed how I approach my work and my life. That has been made so clear to me in this past year. For me to feel good about what I’m doing day to day, my family has to be the central focus.

“There are plenty of things left for me to do, but now the thing that gets me excited is experiencing the world through my daughter’s eyes. I can’t wait to take her scuba diving. I can’t wait to take her skiing. I can’t wait to read a great book with her. I’m not worried at all she’ll be a wallflower. She’s been a character from the word go.”

Jackson met Turner-Smith, 34, two days after his 40th birthday. He had been single since his 10-year relationship with German actress Ms Diane Kruger ended in 2016. “I was not looking to fall in love again or meet the mother of my child, but life has other plans for you,” he says.

The couple met at a party. Turner-Smith was wearing the same The Future Is Female Ejaculation T-shirt Ms Tessa Thompson’s character, Detroit, wears in the 2018 film Sorry To Bother You. “That’s what I used to break the ice. I shouted, ‘Detroit!’ across the room. Not the smoothest thing I’ve ever done, but it worked. We were pretty much inseparable from the word go. It was a whirlwind romance and I can tell my daughter I literally saw her mother across a room and thought, ‘I have to be next to this woman.’”

A self-confessed “useless” shopper, Jackson gives his wife full credit for his current wardrobe. He is jewellery-free, apart from a wedding band and a gold signet “JJ” ring on his little finger (a present from his wife), and discovered tailored sweatsuits (by Stampd and Reigning Champ) in the pandemic.

“Jodie has influence in the way that a wonderful wife encourages you, through love, to dress well. She was like, ‘We’re going to throw away all the sweatpants from your past and I’m going to get you some that actually make you look like an adult male and you will still feel comfortable around the house,’ and I’m like, ‘What an amazing idea!’ Who knew you could get sweatsuits that actually look good on your body?”

Jackson’s style has evolved, he says, “from slovenly teen to it’s-nice-when-your-clothes-actually-fit-you”. The penny dropped after he auditioned for his former co-star Estevez, who was directing the 2006 Mr Robert Kennedy biopic Bobby. He said to me, ‘You only got this job because I know you. You came in here to play a very well-put together 1960s political operative and you’re wearing jeans and a hoodie.’

“I had to grow up a little bit. We are very much raised in Canada to never, ever show off, so it took me a while to recognise it’s OK to look good when you go out.”

Still, when you’ve grown up in front of the camera, “every pimple literally documented”, and lived (very successfully) to tell the tale, you can probably be forgiven for the odd fashion faux pas.

“I wore a silk Ascot to an event once in Paris and I still have nightmares about it,” he says. “I looked like Fred from Scooby Doo, but you live and learn.”

#joshua jackson #interviews #jodie turner smith #dawson's creek #dr death #fringe #emilio estevez #mr porter #patrick stewart #michelle williams #katie holmes

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phoenix-downer · 3 years

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The Bucket List

After Sora’s return, Riku helps Naminé fulfill the items on her bucket list.

~2100 words. Post-Kingdom Hearts III and Melody of Memory. Rikunami/Namiku. Romance, Fluff, Friendship. Naminé POV. Written for @memoryofpromises.

Golden light danced along the walls and rested on Naminé’s face. The breeze from the open window brought in the smell of sea-salt, and she sighed deeply. Having a body of her own again was truly special, even though it had been over a year since she’d gotten one. Every day was a new adventure, and she couldn’t wait to see what this one had in store.

“Morning, Naminé,” Kairi said as she yawned and stretched. Her red hair stuck out from all different sides of her head, and she smiled sleepily. “Did you sleep well?”

“I did, thank you.” Naminé sat up and rubbed her eyes. One of Riku’s baggy hoodies served as her nightgown, and her cheeks flushed pink as she thought about the time he’d given it to her to wear. Since then, she had a growing collection of his hoodies and jackets that supplemented her own wardrobe nicely.

“Did you enjoy your first sleepover?” Kairi asked as she swept her hair back into a ponytail.

“I did! It was a lot of fun.”

They’d stayed up late, watching movies, eating candy and popcorn as they talked about all sorts of things. Another item Naminé could cross off of her bucket list. Now that Sora was home, safe and sound, they were all able to focus on just enjoying life again. Soon after they’d gotten him back, Kairi had helped Naminé make the bucket list, and now her friend was helping her do all the things on it, one by one.

“We’ll have to invite the other girls over sometime so we can have a proper slumber party,” Kairi said. “We’ll need to figure out a time that works for everyone, but I’m sure we can make it happen.”

“Thank you, Kairi, really. You don’t have to do all this for me—”

“I know. But I want to. You’re my friend.”

Naminé smiled. It was so nice to have Kairi for a friend. Before, she’d felt so alone, and now she had so many friends that there was never a dull moment. Her Gummiphone was always lighting up with messages and photos and phone calls, and her schedule was filled with school and dates with Riku and plans to hang out with friends.

“So, today you said you wanted to go shopping,” Kairi said as she rummaged through her closet for something to wear. “And that means we can dress up if you’d like.”

“I’d like that very much,” Naminé said as she got up from Kairi’s trundle bed. It was nice to go from having one dress to a full wardrobe of clothes, and now Kairi wanted to take her shopping to get even more clothes.

Together they got ready for the day. Naminé went with a simple blue dress with yellow accents that Kairi let her borrow with sandals to match. That was the nice thing about being Kairi’s (former) Nobody; they could swap clothes no problem. Kairi swept her hair up into a French twist and secured it with a clip, then gave her some paopu fruit earrings to wear. When she was helping Naminé put the finishing touches on her makeup, the doorbell rang.

“Huh, I wonder who that could be,” Kairi said, but there was a mischievous sparkle in her eyes, and her lips were twitching.

“Kairi?”

“Why don’t we go see who it is,” Kairi said as she grabbed Naminé’s hand and led her downstairs. Naminé’s heart pounded; could it be—

“Surprise!” Kairi squealed as she opened the door. Standing there, wearing a nice shirt and slacks, was Riku. He broke into a smile as soon as he saw Naminé, and she felt a blush creep up her cheeks as she returned his smile.

“I assume we’re not going shopping?” she asked Kairi. It was strange but also a little thrilling, how much trouble she had looking away from Riku when he was nearby.

“We can, some other time. But yes, today is supposed to be for the two of you. Riku just wanted it to be a surprise, and he recruited me to help.”

“You don’t know how hard it was not to say anything,” Riku said. “I’m… not very good at keeping secrets. But I wanted to surprise you.”

“You did,” Naminé said. “I didn’t suspect a thing.”

They just smiled at each other for a few moments until Kairi cleared her throat. “Better get going, lovebirds, or you won’t have time to do everything Riku has planned.”

That snapped them out of their reverie, and Riku blushed as Naminé ducked her head and giggled. They hadn’t even left Kairi’s house yet, and they were already getting so distracted. Naminé went back inside to grab her purse, and with that, she and Riku were off.

“Where are you taking me first?” she asked as Riku led her down the winding path away from Kairi’s house on the hill. It was amazing how comfortable it felt to hold his hand like this now. She still remembered the day when he’d first offered his hand and she’d taken it, the day she’d gotten a body of her own again and a precious reminder that she wasn’t alone.

“To the Gummi Ship,” Riku said as he gave her one of his charming half-smiles.

“And after that?”

“You’ll see. And no cheating and looking at my memories,” he teased. “I’ve been to the places I plan on taking you today, so I’m sure you’ll find them in there.”

Her lips twitched. “Me? Look at your memories? I would never.”

“The innocent act doesn’t work so well on me, you know,” Riku said with a laugh. “It might fool Sora and Kairi, but I can see right through it.”

She bit her lip and stopped walking, and Riku turned around to look at her.

“What is it?” he asked, his face twisted into a frown.

“You know I wouldn’t look at your memories without your permission, right?”

His eyes softened. “Yeah, of course. I trust you, Naminé.”

She relaxed at his words. Sometimes she wondered how the others could trust her at all, with the powers she had. But Riku really did mean what he said, of that she was sure. He had always been honest and open with her about his feelings and struggles, so she was trying to do the same.

She found his hand again, and he gave her a reassuring squeeze.

“C’mon, let’s go,” he said, and she nodded and let him lead the way once more.

Their first destination was Twilight Town. Riku took her to Le Grand Bistro, where they ate a delicious lunch consisting of Pumpkin Velouté and Sea Bass en Papillote, with Berries au Fromage for dessert. The weather was perfect as they dined outside, just the right temperature with a light breeze blowing through, and Naminé sighed as she set her fork down and patted her mouth with her napkin.

“Thank you, Riku. The food was delicious.”

“Yeah?”

She nodded. “I used to walk past here sometimes, when we were looking for a way to help Sora. It’s nice to be able to finally eat here myself. It was something I’ve been wanting to do for a while.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” he said, then found her hand again. They just gazed into each other’s eyes for a moment, until Naminé had to look away because she was getting too flustered.

“I’ll go pay up, and then we can go to the next place,” he said.

The next place was still in Twilight Town. The little outdoor theater, to be exact, the one tucked into a side street that showed the latest cartoons and movies. Naminé had never been to a movie theater before, and she watched enraptured as the action unfolded onscreen.

“It’s so big,” she whispered. She knew from Kairi’s memories what a movie theater was like, but seeing one in person was completely different from seeing it in someone else’s memories.

When she glanced at Riku, he wasn’t really watching the movie at all. She caught him looking at her instead, and that just made a blush creep up her cheeks once more. She found his hand again and worked up the courage to lean against his shoulder. Yet another thing on her bucket list she could scratch off.

Wait a moment. Was this… on purpose? Did Riku somehow know about her bucket list? And if he did, was he trying to help her do the things on it, one by one?

She shyly looked up at him, and he smiled again and squeezed her hand. “Enjoying the movie?” he whispered.

She nodded and turned her attention back to the screen. There was only one way to find out if he was, in fact, working off of her bucket list. She’d have to wait and see where he took her next. But if she was right, there was something on the list she wanted to experience, more than anything, and she couldn’t wait to see if it would come true.

When the movie was over, Riku led her up to Sunset Hill. The view from here was as beautiful as it had been the last time she’d seen it. Golden light flooded the sleepy town stretching out below, and the sky above was filled with fluffy clouds tinged purple. Beyond the town were green hills as far as the eye could see, and Naminé found herself longing to sketch the scene before them. They sat on one of the benches and savored the moment till at last Riku spoke up.

“Do you remember the last time we were up here?” he asked. The breeze ruffled through his hair and clothes, and Naminé was very glad he was dressed like himself this time instead of shrouded in a dark cloak. His eyes were their natural green, and he was looking at her in a way that made her heart flutter.

“Yes, of course,” she said, pressing her fingers together. “How could I forget? You spared me and saved my life.”

DiZ had ordered Riku to dispose of her, but Riku had defied his orders, and in doing so, allowed her to escape. That was the first of many times he’d shown her kindness.

His face was very serious when he spoke again. “Of course I did. It was the right thing to do. I knew in my heart that you were your own person, and I couldn’t just ignore what my heart was telling me.”

“This was the first time, wasn’t it?” Naminé said softly. “The first time we realized… there was something more between us. Against all odds, a human and a Nobody had developed feelings for each other.”

“Yeah. I realized I couldn’t bear to lose you. Funny how that meant letting you go.”

Naminé smiled shyly and found his hand. “But now we’re together again, at long last. It all worked out in the end.”

Even after the long separation they’d endured, they’d found each other again. Even after they’d spent more than a year apart, searching for a way to save Sora, their work was done at long last, and they could finally rest side-by-side, hand-in-hand.

Her eyes searched his face. He’d fallen silent, like even a whisper risked ruining such a special moment. Her gaze wandered to his lips, full and soft. How would it feel if he bent down and—

Oh. Oh my. He must’ve been wondering the same thing too, because he was leaning closer and closer, his breath warm on her cheek. She tilted her head and let her eyes flutter shut so she could focus completely on how it felt when their lips met. Despite how sweet and gentle the kiss was, it still felt like an electric jolt went coursing through her body at the connection. To think that kissing could feel so wonderful. No wonder people liked to do it so much.

When it was over, she opened her eyes and smiled. Riku was smiling, too, and he rested his hand against her cheek and gave her a long, lingering kiss on the forehead before straightening. It was funny, how that forehead kiss made her melt even further. She found his hand again, and they sat there, gazing into each other’s eyes, the scenery around them all but forgotten.

As nice as her bucket list ideas were, nothing compared to getting to do them with him. When he was by her side, each moment was a wonderful adventure that would soon become a precious memory.

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A/N: A big thank you to the mods, Kai and Sera, for organizing everything! And thank you to the artists and other writers for creating such beautiful pieces! I really enjoyed being a part of this zine and seeing everyone’s lovely works 💜

#rikunami #namiku #riku #namine #naminé #kingdom hearts #kh fanfiction #phoenix writes #phoenix downer #memory of promises #memory of promises zine #mop zine #mopzine #romance #fluff #friendship #kairi #long post

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freebooter4ever · 3 years

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A fic inspired by @kanhatomame 's Lovely Drawing of Eugene dreaming about Snafu ^_^ Set in Mobile after the war, Eugene deals with pining and memories, and that wordless connection to another person that never really leaves you. (angst ish with happy ending)

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There are so many ghosts in Eugene's head it's quite crowded there. But the only one he clings to is Snafu's. Naturally, this also means it's the one that feels most nebulous and impossible to chase down. Sometimes, when Eugene sees other couples together, touching each other, looking at each other, the connections to his own vivid memories feel stronger.

But he and Snafu were never a couple, should never have been a couple. Their few kisses were stolen behind doors and in the shadows. They could never have danced hand in hand like the boys and girls are doing now at the OMM ball.

Eugene stares at the dancers, himself half hidden behind a potted plant. A silly form of camouflage, and one that wouldn't even work if someone looked his way. It certainly fails to hide him from his brother. He can see Edward eyeing him disapprovingly from across the room. Edward's arm is wrapped lovingly around his wife's waist. She leans into his shoulder slightly - Martha is small and petite and fits perfectly.

Eugene takes a deep breath and refocuses his eyes to the center of the dance floor. He slowly allows himself to relax, concentrating on one memory of a touch. Snafu was never one to lovingly cradle Eugene, but whenever they would sit down around camp - at the slop shoot, or the movies, or when naked on the beach after a swim - Snafu would sling his arm behind Gene's back and angle his whole body in Gene's direction. He kept it casual, usually joking and laughing as if using humor to distract the rest of the guys from this habit of his. Except there were always times when Snaf would make a particularly ridiculous wisecrack and Eugene would feel compelled to turn his neck to roll his eyes at Snafu, and the minute his eyes would meet Snafu's, the other guy's face would be glowing with joy. Joy reserved only for one person - Eugene.

There's a specific shine in Snafu's eyes that he saves solely for Gene. And those delicate bits of eye contact were more intimate than all the loving touches in the world. And often they preceded Snafu pulling Eugene into some dark hideaway, and pressing his full body up against Gene, still teasing him, tempting him with no kisses, no gentle lover's touch until Eugene finally got fed up and molded their mouths together.

Eugene will never forget the shape of Snafu's hands.

"Eugene? Baby brother?" Edward is snapping his fingers in front of Eugene's face.

Eugene blinks rapidly, comes back to himself, completely loses the relaxation in his body, and glares at Edward.

"Thought you were in a trance or something," Edward grins lopsided.

"I was thinking," Eugene sighs.

"No duh," Edward says, "You do too much of that, little brother."

"What else is there to do?" Eugene sighs continuously. He shouldn't have opened his mouth because the next thing he knows Edward tells him 'don't move' and disappears further into the house to find some poor victim to foist awkwardly on Gene.

It's been like this all evening. Eugene's talked to more girls in the past hour than he ever has in his life. All of them brought to him by Edward, eagerly introducing the girls to his younger, naive brother.

This latest one is named Victoria, and she's got long curly brown hair that looks soft to touch, and a porcelain face like a doll.

"She's very pretty," Eugene says truthfully when Edward corners him and demands to know what he thought after Victoria is called away by friends.

"Gene, I don't understand you," Edward shakes his head, "You're the son of the city's best doctor, you've got all your limbs intact, you're a war hero… why I'll bet you're the most eligible bachelor here. If you just learn to play it up a little bit…"

"I'm going outside to smoke," Eugene interrupts flatly, "Come get me when it's time to leave."

His voice brooks no argument, and he promptly ducks out of the house with only one direction in mind. He fills his pipe, lights it, and slowly lets the smoke start to relax him again. His lips suck on the wood between them, and the ghost of Snafu seeps in with the nicotine. The memory of the first time when Eugene sucked Snafu's finger clean (of mashed potatoes) - after Snafu tried (and failed) to start a food fight. It pairs well with the memory of sucking off other parts of Snafu too… certain parts he doesn't have a clear picture of in his mind. He sort of blurred the image as it happened, out of embarrassment or sheer awkwardness. If he ever got the chance to do it again, he'd memorize every square inch.

"Eugene, your brother asked me to come find you," his mother breaks his reverie, "Your father is having the car brought around."

Eugene nods, his shame from his thoughts bright red on his face, but luckily hidden in the dark. He follows his mother to the driveway and wordlessly climbs into the backseat. Martha and Edward are taking their own car. So Eugene has plenty of room to forego seatbelts and lie down across the back. His head is swimming a little bit, from that punch he kept drinking. He couldn't taste it, but he suspects it was spiked.

The car starts up, and starts rumbling, shaking his entire body. The seat is warm - the heat from the engine flows through the entire undercarriage. Eugene closes his eyes. He listens to the sound of the road under the wheels, a smooth wash like constantly crashing waves.

Waves lapping at the toes of his feet, and bathing half of Snafu's entire leg in water up to his knees. Snafu lying naked on his back in the sand, with Eugene straddled on top of him bouncing vigorously. All Eugene remembers is the intensity, the sounds, and the feeling. Half weird gritty discomfort, half absolute pleasure.

The car turns and rolls Eugene against the back of the car. He turns his face to the smooth leather, seeking that pressure of something - anything - against his skin.

Eugene recognizes when they reach their house's street because he can feel the jittering rumble as the car crosses the wooden bridge. The jitter shakes him to his bones, and he shivers although the night is hot and sticky. He closes his eyes and counts the streetlights behind his eyelids until they reach the driveway.

Had Eugene been paying attention at all, looking out the window of the car instead of losing himself to ghosts, he might have noticed the beat-up rusted brown truck parked just outside his family's gate at the end of Georgia House's long private drive. Though truthfully, even if Eugene had been looking he might not have seen it. The cloud cover darkens the sky until the only light source is the single lamp marking the start of the Sledge's driveway. And the truck is parked under a tree, throwing even more shadow over it. The only hint that someone is there is the soft glow of a cigarette luminating a haunted face and skinny legs dangling over the truck bed where he sits.

Snafu arrived in town hours ago - just in time to watch Eugene leave. He's been sitting on top his parked truck ever since. Judging from their fancy clothes, Snafu knew they'd likely return that night from an outing and sure enough. Here they are. He wedges the cigarette tighter in his mouth and jumps down from the truck bed.

Eugene's window is on the first floor, so it shouldn't be hard to reach except for the damn kudzu covering a mass of bushes and thorny plants underneath. Snafu suspects they might have been roses at one point. They're dead now. There's live ones elsewhere in the garden, but the ones under Eugene's window are long gone.

Fucking symbolic maybe.

Snafu shoves the window open unceremoniously and throws his leg in. He sits on the sil and stares down at Gene in the bed. Eugene didn't bother to change, he's still in that same expensive looking suit, his tie askew and his shoes kicked off with one sock missing. Snafu settles himself comfortably against the window frame, puffs on his cigarette, and watches Eugene sleep.

He doesn't get to watch for long - Eugene sleeps fitfully, just as Snafu remembers, and ends up kicking and thrashing in his bed. Snafu watches him with intense regret. When Eugene fell asleep peacefully on the train, for the first time since that initial week on Pavuvu, Snafu thought maybe civilization had kicked Eugene's nightmares. That maybe Eugene was gonna be able to go back to 'normal'. Clearly Snafu was wrong.

He waits a few more seconds, till Eugene's fit is at its peak, and whispers sharply, "Sledgehammer."

Gene sits bolt upright immediately and silently. He stares blankly for a split second, till his eyes snap to Snafu's. Then he stares silently at Snafu.

Snafu takes his half finished cigarette and grinds it into the wood of Eugene's window. It leaves a mark. Eugene watches this without expression.

"You're real," Eugene whispers.

Snafu shrugs.

"I mean you're not a dream… for once," Eugene says.

"You've been dreaming about me?" Snafu grins.

Eugene lunges forward, grabs Snafu's forearms and drags him onto the bed. Snafu falls awkwardly on top of Eugene, but it's easy to shift their positions and overpower Eugene to pin him to the bed. "I really hope those nightmares of yours wasn't you dreaming of me, cause if they were we might have to figure out a way to give you better ones."

"My dreams of you only come during the day," Eugene says, much more serious in tone than Snafu.

"Good ones?"

Eugene nods.

"It isn't enough… is it?" Snafu asks. He already knows the correct answer. That's why he's here.

In response Eugene pulls him down into a kiss.

#Sledgefu #Bad germs

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crowdvscritic · 2 years

Text

round up // APRIL 22

Kidnappings, murders, and million-dollar heists, oh my! My favorite pop culture from April featured quite a few crimes and quite a few star-studded casts. Natch, most of my picks are narrative movies, and now that Oscar season is over, I’m back to theater for brand-spanking new releases. But you can also find two documentaries (okay, 1.5 documentaries), a selection of live performances, some long reads, and of the Beatles on this list, so if crime doesn’t pay your interests well, there’s still plenty more to entertain and make you think this month.

April Crowd-Pleasers

1. Death on the Nile (2022)

My love for Agatha Christie adaptations is well-documented, so it’s no surprise the latest adaptation was right up my alley. (Er, right up my river?) Kenneth Branagh’s detective Hercule Poirot is investigating Annette Bening, Russell Brand, Gal Gadot, Rose Leslie, Sophie Okonedo, Jennifer Saunders, Letitia Wright, and more, and there are nearly as many twists as cast members. Crowd: 8/10 // Critic: 7/10

2. Ambulance (2022)

I could not capture in words how delightful Ambulance was, but I tried really hard with phrases like "majestic chaos" and "symphony of mayhem.” Read my full review for ZekeFilm about Michael Bay’s latest, which is exactly what you want from him if you don’t care about bots, body builders, or Benghazi. It’s the first movie I’ve seen twice in theaters since Jojo Rabbit in 2019, and it’s great to be back, baby! Crowd: 9.5/10 // Critic: 6/10

3. Olivia Rodrigo: driving home 2 u (a SOUR film) (2022)

Is this “documentary” shameless advertising for its star, Olivia Rodrigo? You bet. Is it also a collection of killer performances, fun making-of-the-album clips, and gorgeous Southwest vistas? You also bet. If you’re a fan of Rodrigo’s debut album SOUR, don’t miss this concert rockumentary that’s a time capsule of teenage-dom and of coming into your own artistic voice. Crowd: 8/10 // Critic: 7/10

4. Nine to Five (1980)

Ever been frustrated with management at your office job? Nine to Five is the catharsis you need. (Not that I’m speaking from experience.) Jane Fonda, Dolly Parton, and Lily Tomlin are fed up with their boss Dabney Coleman’s harassment, mismanagement, and general unpleasantness, and after a few misunderstandings, it turns into…kidnapping? I love a plot that escalates to bananas, and all three of these ladies (and that Oscar-nominated theme song) are in top form. Crowd: 9/10 // Critic: 8/10

5. Brewster’s Millions (1985)

April means baseball is back, and that means it’s time for baseball movies between games. I rewatched some of my favorites this month (like Moneyball and Take Me Out to the Ball Game), and Brewster’s Millions was my favorite of the new ones I checked out. Minor leaguer Richard Pryor has to spend $30 million in 30 days to get a $300 million inheritance, but he can’t tell anyone (including BFF John Candy and manager Jerry Orbach) what’s going on. Hijinks ensue! Crowd: 9/10 // Critic: 7/10

6. The Lost City (2022)

What’s more enjoyable than a Sandra Bullock rom-com? We’ve gone without them for over a decade, and this action-adventure is a refreshing and hilarious return to form. Bullock is a fading romance novelist, Daniel Radcliffe is the eccentric billionaire who kidnaps her, and Channing Tatum is her handsome dum-dum cover model who tries to rescue her. Oh, and Brad Pitt shows up—why not? Crowd: 9.5/10 // Critic: 6.5/10

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7. John Mulaney: From Scratch Tour (2022)

If you get the chance, don’t miss John Mulaney live. He performed a 90-minute set at Denver’s Red Rocks Amphitheatre, and I laughed so hard I cried—what more can you hope for? I also left understanding rehab and addiction better than I when I sat down (see his recent SNL monologue for a taste), which made it feel like an intimate sharing of his most vulnerable moments as much as a comedy show. It’s a fascinating art-imitates-life performance I hope makes it to Netflix soon so I can say I’m not interested in science “from magnets to ducks” and people know what I’m referencing.

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8. SNL Round Up

Season 47 of Saturday Night Live is getting close to wrapping—don’t miss these before the finale.

"Paw Patrol" (4714 with Oscar Isaac)

"Home Repair Show “ (4714) — I’m not sure why, but Kyle Mooney’s dry delivery made me laugh so hard I cried

"Short-A** Movies" (4716 with Jerrod Carmichael) - Pardon their French, but I am fully on board with this category of movies

"Story" (4716)

"Post-Covid Game Show" (4716)

"Cabaret Night" (4717 with Jake Gyllenhaal) - Pardon a few NSFW comments, but I really connected with this embracing of our mediocre achievements like finishing a chapstick before losing it

"Black Eyed Peas" (4718 with Lizzo)

9. Double Muppet Feature: The Muppet Movie (1979) + The Great Muppet Caper (1981)

Everyone handles stress differently. I handle it by watching Muppets movies and eating ice cream for dinner. The Muppet Movie (Crowd: 9/10 // Critic: 8/10) chronicles the origin story of Kermit meeting his pals, and The Great Muppet Caper (Crowd: 9/10 // Critic: 8/10) sees Kermit and Co. solving a mystery about missing diamonds. (Caper would also been a great double feature with Death on the Nile.) John Cleese, Elliott Gould, Charles Grodin, Bob Hope, Cloris Leachman, Carol Kane, Steve Martin, Richard Pryor, Diana Rigg, Orson Welles, and more make appearances, and I sleep better at night when I lie in bed thinking of the Muppets instead of work.

10. Hotel Artemis (2018)

Jodie Foster and Dave Bautista run a secret Los Angeles hospital for criminals including Jeff Goldblum, Sofa Boutella, Sterling K. Brown, Jenny Slate, and Zachary Quinto. And on a night when the whole city is rioting, what could go wrong? While the dialogue is a little too obsessed with exposition (seems like we could’ve shown instead of telling some of these things), the plot coasts on the cast’s charisma into something fun. Crowd: 8/10 // Critic: 6/10

April Critic Picks

1. Rushmore (1998)

Another Wes Anderson film, another romance with an age gap. Jason Schwartzman’s intense prep schooler obsessed with extracurriculars is a car wreck you can’t look away from as he attempts to beat out Bill Murray for the affections of a teacher at Rushmore Academy (Olivia Williams). The aesthetically-pleasing eye of Wes Anderson transforms a story of teenage ambition, rebellion, and revenge into something entirely charming. Crowd: 8/10 // Critic: 9/10

2. Double Feature - Classic Screwball Rom-Coms: Midnight (1939) + Ball of Fire (1941)

In Midnight (Crowd: 8/10 // Critic: 8.5/10), chorus girl Claudette Colbert and taxi driver Don Ameche are crossed in love in Paris as she schemes to marry rich. In Ball of Fire (Crowd: 9/10 // Critic: 9.5/10), nightclub singer Barbara Stanwyck and encyclopedia writer Gary Cooper are crossed in love in New York as she schemes to marry a mobster (Dana Andrews). Pair these for an evening full of witty banter and unexpected love triangles.

3. Hamilton

Guys, it took two extra years, but I’ve finally seen Hamilton, and it lives up to the hype. That’s it—that’s the tweet.

4. Good Reads

When I travel, I dig into my Pocket to catch up on longer reads. To and from Denver I dug into thoughts on the chaos the Internet creates in our culture and the plot holes of…Air Bud. Yes, Air Bud.

“Why the Past 10 Years of American Life Have Been Uniquely Stupid,” atlantic.com (2022)

“Stop Firing the Innocent,” atlantic.com (2020)

“The New Puritans,” atlantic.com (2021)

“Frankly, My Dear, the Whole Thing is a Stench in My Nostrils,” ListOfNote.com (2022)

“Hundreds of Ways to Get S#!+ Done—and We Still Don’t,” wired.com (2021)

“How an Ivy League School Turned Against a Student,” NewYorker.com (2022)

“Watch John Oliver Unravel the Legal Arguments of Air Bud,” vulture.com (2022)

“Viola Davis Says Critics ‘Serve No Purpose’ but We Do – and It’s Not to Sell Tickets,” TheGuardian.com (2022)

5. The Endless Summer (1966)

Get yourself in a summer #mood with a documentary about surfing in the ‘60s! Filmmaker Bruce Brown is following two surfers searching for an endless summer, following warm weather around the globe through Africa, Asia, and the Pacific. While a few moments have aged weirdly, these surfers are approaching new waves and cultures with an open mind and heart, ready to make new friends and improve their skills on the board. Be careful or you might head out the door with no itinerary or suitcase because this doc will ignite such a strong wanderlust! Crowd: 7.5/10 // Critic: 8/10

6. Norma Rae (1979)

Grab your union pins, cardboard, and markers—we have a movie you need to get behind! This month on SO IT’S A SHOW?, Kyla and I checked out Sally Field’s first Oscar-winning role. In the Gilmore Girls episode we’re covering, Lorelai is sticking it to the man just like Norma Rae (or should we say Crystal Lee Sutton?), so we’re sticking Sally Field, a tiny North Carolina town, and a union movement to your podcast feed. Listen to the ep. Crowd: 8.5/10 // Critic: 9/10

7. Everything Everywhere All at Once (2022)

I can find a few quibbles with this sci-fi action comedy (e.g. few of those NSFW moments felt more provocative than consistent with the theme), but this genre-defying adventure is an ADHD trip through what-ifs, kung fu, hot dog fingers, googly eyes, and bagels, which is to say, I have zero idea how to explain this movie about Michelle Yeoh hopping through the multiverse. (Mild spoiler alert) “In another life I would've really like doing taxes and laundry with you,” is one of the most honest, romantic lines I've heard in a minute. Crowd: 8.5/10 // Critic: 8.5/10

8. Paul McCartney!

After listening to the Licorice Pizza soundtrack on repeat for weeks, I had to do a deep dive into the source of one of my favorite tracks on the compilation. After listening to McCartney (1970), Ram (1971, with Linda McCartney), Band on the Run (1973, with the Wings), McCartney II (1980), and Flaming Pie (1997), I have come to some unexciting conclusions:

Paul McCartney writes great love songs

Paul McCartney writes great lyrics

Paul McCartney is a great musician

Keep reading Crowd vs. Critic to stay up to date with hot takes and groundbreaking writing like this!

Also this April…

On another episode of SO IT’S A SHOW?, Kyla and I checked out a movie and a show inspiring Paris’s work banter on Gilmore Girls: Working Girl and Just Shoot Me! Would the work-place banter in these productions really help her be a better server at Rory’s DAR event? We discuss if an average TV show is better or worse than a movie with some icky undertones and an award-winning theme song.

At ZekeFilm we watched major movies from the 1920s we missed. For me, it was the first talkie, The Jazz Singer. Read what has and hasn’t aged well from the musical, and see our team’s full selection of films (including a Best Picture winner and a John Ford classic) at ZekeFilm.org.

Photo credits: Hamilton, Good Reads, Paul McCartney. All others IMDb.com.

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