#Dangerous Minds: Music from the Motion Picture

[tha-wrecka-stow]

[k-i-l-l-e-r-b-e-e-6-9]

Coolio feat. L.V. - Gangsta's Paradise

[logansdoll]

thank you

you never thought you'd be murdered in the middle of an alley... but you also never thought you'd be saved by a man with knives in his fists so... yeah.

CW: suggestive, profanity, the dude that attacks you is clinically insane, Logan's a little socially awkward, your power is kinda bad but kinda good, etc.

It was amazing how quick your day could go from fantastic, to an absolute, fucking shit storm.

Waking up that morning, as you went through your morning routine, something in the air just told you that everything was going to go right.

Your curls turned out perfect after your nightly twist, your makeup flawless, accentuating your natural beauty, and your breakfast sandwich tasted especially delicious.

That, along with the relatively quiet day at the hospital, left you leaving work with a certain pep in your step that made you feel like you could take on anything.

So not once did you plan to end up in the middle of a dark alleyway, and not once did you plan to stand off with a shady, seemingly dangerous, man because of it.

You were too lost in the music of your earphones to notice you had taken a wrong turn, a rookie mistake to make so late at night.

A mistake you were currently cursing yourself for.

"Look," you started, hands up and voice calm in an attempt to placate the irritated man. "I didn't mean to walk over here. I'm just trying to get home."

Slowly, he stalked closer, stance low and beady eyes staring at you in a way that made your stomach drop, and blood run cold.

'Shit.'

"Please... I don't want any trouble," you continued, taking a few steps back, "Just let me pass."

He tutted in response, wagging his finger as a sadistic grin slowly rose to his lips, "People who trespass on my territory gotta pay a toll, sweetheart," he licked his teeth, words slurring together, "and I can see you got more than enough..."

Shamelessly, his eyes dragged over your body, the surface of your skin erupting with a feel of grime and dirt.

You'd need a serious shower when you got home.

If you made it home...

As he drew closer, your hand discreetly slid into your jean jacket pocket, latching onto the cool, metal handle of your switchblade.

You were hoping to de-escalate the situation, but with the way things were looking, you knew you'd probably have to fight your way out.

"I'm only gonna ask one more time," you warned, your tone curt as your expression sharpened into a glare. "Let me go."

Without warning, he let out a manic shout, charging for you at full force.

You let out a shriek of surprise, quickly moving out the way before he could tackle you, whipping your blade out your pocket and flicking it open in one fluid motion.

Quickly, he turned around, expression furious as he ran again, hands out in an attempt to grab you.

And as you tried to dodge, he managed to latch onto the back of your scrub, roughly throwing you to the ground with a grunt.

"Fuck!" you spat, head throbbing as you attempted to sit up, your chest pounding as he grabbed your ankles and dragged you closer.

Fear struck your heart like a freight train, and in a bout of panic, you swung your knife, plunging it into the closest thing you could reach.

He let out a roar of pain, dropping your ankles as he nursed his injured foot, and the handle sticking out of it would've been funny were it not for the dire situation.

Quickly, you scrambled to your feet, stumbling towards your purse which laid on the ground not too far away.

But the man took notice, his foot becoming a thing of the past as he chased you again, scooping up a large shard of broken glass as he ran.

"Get away!" you cried, hugging your purse into your chest as his charge backed you into a corner, your legs giving out as you slid down the wall.

Horrible visions of your fate flashed through your mind as he approached, images of your lifeless body plastered on the nightly news, or your smiling picture on a missing persons poster.

What a fabulous time for your power to chime in...

You squeezed your eyes shut, bracing yourself for whatever was to come, when a loud shink and a pained grunt cut through the air.

Forcing your eyes back open, they landed on a figure, who stood over the dead body of your attacker.

The way the man laid, and the way he was injured, made it look as if he was mauled by some sort of animal.

'Holy shit...'

Pulling yourself back to reality, you realized the figure was now standing right in front of you.

He held his hand out for you to take, sharp, brown eyes flicking between you expectantly.

Finally having the chance to get a good look at him, you took in his appearance.

With his broad chest and strong jaw, you'd think he'd be on the cover of Sexy Bikers weekly, arms and legs thick with muscle under his leather jacket and blue jeans.

Your eyes met in an instant, an electric buzz shooting up your spine at his features.

From what you could see through the darkness, they were sharp, but strong and hard, handsome in their own rugged way.

His lips pulled taut in a line as he stared back, brows furrowing while his eyes flicked around you, almost like he was trying to gauge your reaction.

Slowly, you placed your hand in his allowing him to pull you up to your feet.

"Thank you," you exhaled, shoulders dropping as relief finally sank in your shoulders. "I don't know what I would've done if you didn't come when you did..."

His arms came back to his sides, tiredly, as he awkwardly cleared his throat.

As if he didn't expect you to actually talk to him...

"What're you doin' walkin' by yourself so late?" he asked, his voice a deep rumble. "You got a death wish?"

The sound ignited something in you, a sudden flood of warmth rushing to your stomach, your reply nearly dying in your throat.

"I just got off from work... I wasn't paying attention and turned the wrong corner," you explained, choppily, the embarrassment of your mistake setting in.

It was a stupid one.

Especially for someone who's mutation gave her the ability to see the future.

Or variations of it, at least.

"You got a way to get home?" he asked, resting a hand on his hips.

His arms flexed with the motion, his bicep straining against the jacket sleeve, your eyes drawn to it almost instantly.

You'd never seen a man as handsome as him before, and while you felt bad for gawking, you were more concerned by the flurry of feelings swirling in your chest.

"Cab," you blurted, snapping yourself out of it, "I can hail a cab."

He nodded, smoothly and, to your surprise, silently, stepping to the side and out of your way.

You were ready to head back toward the street, when you suddenly remembered something.

"My purse—" Jittery, the man nervously shoved it into your arms, averting his eyes from your thankful expression.

Your gorgeous, thankful expression.

God, he didn't understand what such a beautiful woman like you was doing in a place like this.

"I found it on the ground over there," he cleared his throat once again, shifting his weight on his feet, "I put your knife back in, too. You might wanna wash it—"

Without warning, you pulled him into a hug, nearly sending his heart into a frenzy.

He kept his hands up, quite confused and unsure of what to do, especially since your impossibly soft cheek was pressed against his chest.

"Thank you... really," you smiled, warmly, as you looked up at him.

God, he was handsome.

Though, you pushed that thought to the back of your mind.

"It was nothin'," he assured, awkwardly, as you backed out.

"I don't suppose I could learn your name, could I?" you asked, a small smile rising to your lips at his social graces.

It was adorable.

Someone so big and strong being so nervous.

Instantly, he tensed, completely taken aback by your bold comment.

Maybe he was imagining things, but he could've sworn your tone made it sound like you were flirting with—

"Logan," he blurted, stiffly.

You grinned, tucking a stray hair behind your ear, "(y/n)."

Slowly, you started toward the mouth of the alleyway, his eyes following you intently, "Well, Logan, I hope we meet again... Then I'll pay you back."

"Not necessary," he assured, shaking his head.

You paused your walk for a moment, turning to glance at him with a devilish glint in your eye.

"We meet again... I'll have something for you," you promised, crossing your fingers.

A shiver rolled down his spine at your words, and you continued on your merry way, exiting the alley and hailing a nearby cab.

Once he was sure you were gone, he let out a loud sigh, allowing his shoulders to sink and a tired hand to run through his hair.

You were something...

One conversation and he already knew you were going to be trouble, the smell of your perfume and the warmth of your smile already plaguing his mind.

He shook his head, taking a deep breath before turning to walk out the alley.

But just as he stepped forward, he felt something under his foot, lifting it to reveal a necklace.

You must've lost it in the melee...

Carefully, he picked it up off the ground, placing it in his pocket before walking out the backstreet.

The next time he saw you... he'd have something for you, too.

[buckets-and-trees]

Welcome Home, Pumpkin [smashed]

Characters/Pairings: Lloyd Hansen x curvy Female!Reader Word Count: 1.9k Summary: Bad ethics. Zero impulse control. This is what everyone says about him. What will it mean for you tonight?

Content/Warnings: NON-consent / r*pe, dark story, use of pet name "Pumpkin," explicit smut (fingering, unprotected vaginal intercourse), filming, taking pictures, hair pulling, choking, humiliation, kidnapping

Notes: This is the last AND DARKEST of three in a set of short stories with Lloyd served three ways - soft, soft!dark, and dark. The three feature the same setting, overlapping themes, shared thoughts, and bits of dialogue. Spiced is the soft!dark version.

sugar pumpkin | spiced pumpkin | smashed pumpkin

↠ Main Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

You shut the door behind you and sigh, happy to be home after a long day - a long week, really. 

You slip your shoes off, drop your bags on the counter, and turn on some music before making your way down the hall to your bedroom. You want to change your clothes from the more pedestrian to something a little more tempting with lingerie beneath before your husband gets home. You’re expecting him back tonight. 

You jump when a deep, serious voice you aren’t expecting says, “Welcome home, Pumpkin.”

Your heart rockets into your throat, hand flying to your chest. “Who are you?”

He chuckles, rising from the spot he’d been perched on the edge of the bed. 

“Lloyd Hansen,” he answers, and makes a show of bowing slightly. 

You hesitate in the doorway, studying the face of the man whose name you’ve been warned about. The steel blue eyes, the sharp jawline, the ridiculous mustache you hoped to avoid indefinitely. 

He looks you up and down slowly, then sits back on the bed. “I see why your husband decided to commit himself to matrimony. I’d almost do it to lock down a sweet thing like you. Almost.”

You widen your eyes slightly and chew your bottom lip. His eyes study you as much as you’re studying him, and you don’t want to give away how terrified you are. 

“Your wonderful, dreamy husband is supposed to be back soon, isn’t he, Pumpkin?” he says, question rhetorical, voice dripping in saccharine sweetness. 

You nod, hoping against hope it will deter this man. 

“Oh,” he coos, “I have a good girl on my hands, don’t I?” 

“Please, please, just go,” you venture a plea, trying to keep your voice as even as you can. “You can leave without any trouble.”

“You’re so sweet to offer, but here’s shit of the situation: your husband took something I really wanted, caused me a lot of trouble, so I’m here to take something from him.”

“Take whatever you want,” you offer, desperate to satisfy and send him away if you can.

“Dangerous word choice, Pumpkin,” he says, stalking forward, “because the plan is you.”

Your breath catches in your throat as Lloyd Hansen approaches, his predatory gaze never leaving yours.

"Me?" you choke, your voice barely audible. You take an involuntary step back, and your body presses against the door.

He places his hands on either side of your head, effectively caging you in. Lloyd's lips curl into a cruel smile. "Oh yes, you. The most precious thing Nick Fowler has. I'm going to enjoy watching him suffer, knowing I have you."

Your mind races, searching for a way out of this nightmare. You glance towards the hallway, wondering if you could make a run for it.

As if reading your thoughts, Lloyd's hand shoots for your wrist, gripping tightly, and he drags you toward the bed. In one swift motion, Lloyd hefts you up, flips you around and has you on the bed pinned beneath him, body pressing into yours. He growls into your mouth as he claims you in a filthy kiss. 

You push against him, but it’s futile. Nick has this much strength, but he never uses it against you. Your eyes prick with tears of humiliation and fear. Lloyd’s rough hands shouldn’t be on you at all, but they’re everywhere and touching you in ways that are far too intimate - ways that your mind is vehemently reeling against but that your body doesn’t know how to do anything but respond to.

"Now, now," he purrs, leaning in to speak directly in your ear like only a lover should. "No need to be frightened. I'm not going to hurt you… much."

Your mind races, searching for a way out of this nightmare. You think of your husband, and wonder desperately if he might arrive home early, if there's any chance he could save you from this dangerous situation. But even as the thought crosses your mind, you know it's unlikely. Nick isn't due back for hours.

Lloyd's hands continue to roam your body, and you try to squirm away from his touch. "Please," you whimper, "don't do this."

He chuckles darkly. "Oh, Pumpkin. Begging already? We've barely begun."

He props himself up slightly on one arm, and his other hand reaches to tear the front of your shirt open, rending the fabric in two. You look up at him, terrified and trembling, waiting with bated breath. 

He unbuttons the top of your pants and drags down the zipper, all the while looking in your eyes. 

His fingers dip into your panties, and he goes straight for the cut of you, slipping a finger inside. 

You cry out, but your hips arch for more of what it usually craves, betraying you to this monster.

“Such a sensitive little thing,” he murmurs, adding another finger and thrusting them inside you.

You wriggle and writhe beneath him, unable to control your body’s response to his touch. He watches with dark satisfaction as you lose yourself in the moment.

“I knew it,” he whispers. His thumb presses against your clit, rubbing in slow circles. “Knew you would be fun to torment.”

Your breath comes in short, ragged gasps as Lloyd's skilled fingers work their magic. You hate yourself for responding, but your body continues to betray you, growing slick with arousal.

"Stop," you beg, even as your hips buck against his hand.

Lloyd chuckles darkly. "Your mouth says stop, but your body is eager for more." He curls his fingers inside you, hitting a spot that makes you cry out. "That's it, let me hear those pretty sounds."

You turn your head away, ashamed of the pleasure coursing through your body despite your fear and revulsion. Lloyd grabs your chin roughly, forcing you to look at him.

"No, no, Pumpkin. I want to see your face when you come undone," he growls, his fingers working faster inside you. His steel blue eyes bore into yours, filled with a mix of lust and cruelty that makes your stomach churn.

Yet your body trembles, teetering on the edge of release. You try to hold back, but Lloyd is determined to hurl you over the edge. His thumb increases pressure on your clit, circling relentlessly.

"That's it," he encourages, a ghost of a smirk on his face. He pulls out his phone, aiming the camera at you. "Let's give your husband a little show, shall we?" Lloyd says, his eyes glinting with malice.

Your eyes widen in panic at the sight of the phone. "No, please don't," you beg breathlessly.

Lloyd just grins wickedly. "Oh, but I must. Your husband needs to see what he's missing."

His fingers continue their merciless assault on your most sensitive areas. You're helpless against the onslaught of sensation, your body betraying you as waves of pleasure build.

"Come for us, Pumpkin," Lloyd commands. "Let Nick see how much you enjoy another man's touch."

You shut your eyes and cover your face with your arms.

Lloyd's fingers curl inside you again, and with a strangled cry, you fall over the edge. He keeps torturing you for a few more moments, making you buck and try to push him away. He laughs, letting you finally have one small victory.

But the reprieve is brief.

He yanks the clothing completely down and off your bottom half, and then he’s between your legs, cock out, and pushing his thick, blunt head inside you. Your scream is weak, but it breaks out of your throat as you beat against his chest.

Lloyd growls, grabs your wrists, and pins them above your head in one of his giant hands.

Then he proceeds to fuck you.

Slowly.

Lloyd's pace is agonizing, each thrust deep and deliberate. You try to disconnect, to retreat into your mind, but he won't allow it.

"Look at me," he demands, voice rough. When you don't comply, he grips your chin, forcing your gaze to meet his. "I said look at me while I fuck you."

You don’t realize you are crying until you hear your breath hitching against the backdrop of the music you had turned on when you got home. Tears stream down your cheeks as you stare into cold, blue eyes. Lloyd's mustache twitches as he smirks, clearly enjoying your distress.

"That's it, Pumpkin. Let me see that pretty face.”

Your tears only seem to spur Lloyd on, his thrusts becoming harder, but not faster. You try to stifle your cries, but each powerful movement forces small whimpers from your lips.

"Such sweet sounds," Lloyd murmurs, his breath hot across your face. "I wonder if your husband makes you sing like this."

You turn your head away, unable to bear looking at him any longer. Lloyd growls, displeased, and grabs a fistful of your hair, yanking your head back.

"I don’t need to fuck you," he snarls. “I’m doing it because I can. I’m doing it because I want Nick to know how thoroughly I’ve violated you here, in his bed, and then I’m still going to take you and make him come find you.”

You sob and it only fuels more of Lloyd's cruel desire. He releases your hair, his hand sliding down to grip your throat. The pressure isn't enough to cut off your air, but it's a clear threat.

"Shh, shh," he coos mockingly. "Feel every inch of me. Remember this moment, because it's going to haunt you for a long, long time."

You try to block out his words, to focus on anything else, but it's impossible. His hips continue their relentless pace, each thrust sending jolts of unwanted pleasure through your body. You hate yourself for responding, for the way your walls clench around him involuntarily.

"That's it," Lloyd snarls. “Fucking come around my cock, Mrs. Fowler.”

He releases the pressure from your throat, and the rush of oxygen back into your lungs combined with the pleasure assaulting your cunt pushes you into another orgasm. Lloyd groans as you squeeze him, and you feel him twitch inside you, but he pulls out and shoots hot ropes of cum across your chest and your face, pumping his fist furiously up and down his cock, one short cruel laugh of triumph ringing out.

Lloyd kneels above you, and snaps pictures with his camera this time. He lets you curl in on yourself while he tucks his cock back into his boxers and zips up his pants. He gives a low whistle, and two men appear in the doorway to your bedroom. You choke back another sob.

“Get up,” he orders. “You can either walk out to the van or these two will haul you out.”

Desperate not to have anyone else touch you, you scurry off the bed. You reach for your discarded underwear and jeans, but Lloyd barks, “No, leave it. You’re coming just like that.”

You look up sharply, opening your mouth to protest, but it dies when you see the gun in his hand pointed at your head. Fresh tears streaming down your face, you straighten up, and walk, humiliated, out of your bedroom in only your bra and your torn shirt, Lloyd’s hot, sticky cum still on your skin, and it’s all you can do to hold back your sobs until you’re curled in a ball in the dark of the trunk of a car.

↠ Main Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

all Welcome Home, Pumpkin stories

...

And so it ends.

I do not do tag lists, but FOLLOW @buckets-and-stories and TURN ON NOTIFICATIONS to be updated any time I publish a new work!

[kindheart525]

If there’s one thing I’ve made myself known for in the Smiling Friends fandom, it’s that I love Zoey and I’m desperate for her to get some more development. Obviously she’s not a main character but she deserves more than one line!!! I have no idea what Season 3 will give her (if anything) but in the meantime I’ve been trying to give her some more character. It started with bits and pieces of headcanon but now I’ve decided to go ahead and write a full backstory on her!

In a rural farming community north of Pennsylvania live the Leroux family. They have been in that exact region for many generations, so the roots run deep. Everyone in the area knows them and their parents and grandparents and so on. Nobody is forced to stay, but still it’s a shock when any Leroux decides to move away because they are known for loving their home so much.

Well, one Zoey Leroux gave them that shock.

While her family and community are deeply in love with their home, she found it horribly boring. There were few options for recreation aside from hiking the same mountains every weekend. There were also few work opportunities that didn’t involve farming in some way. The nearest city was hours away. While as an adult she holds plenty of nostalgia for the place she grew up, she knew she wanted a more exciting life than this. To which her family would protest, “What can be more exciting than this?” But they just didn’t get it. She had to forge her own path, which brought her to the wacky Pennsylvania city we all know well. 

She still visits home for holidays and is decently close with her family despite needing the physical distance and change of pace. 

Here the family is pictured during Zoey’s college years, when she was deep in her goth phase and horribly bored whenever she had to come home during breaks (though she would appreciate those times later). The rest of her family are as follows:

Gregoire Leroux, nicknamed French Greg since childhood, is a leaf counter. Not a general environmentalist or anything, just a leaf counter. He’s part of an agency that counts all the leaves on every plant in town, connected with other agencies that do the same thing in neighboring towns. Apparently counting the leaves is a big deal in recording the seasonal patterns and overall health of the local flora, but in practice it looks just a couple steps up from watching paint dry. French Greg loves the quiet solitude of his job and takes great joy in studying the details of every leaf, even if his eldest daughter doesn’t get it.

Laverne Leroux is a quiet and withdrawn woman who works for the local farm. She doesn’t do any actual farm work but is instead there for two purposes: getting the animals (especially the goats) unstuck from the tight spots they get into, and offering music therapy to the livestock. She rarely sees the farmers at all and she likes it that way. She’s practically agoraphobic and much prefers the company of animals over humans, although her beloved family is an exception. Each night she lies awake with worry over what her daughter is up to in the city, hoping she’s safe in that dangerous and unfamiliar terrain.

Sophie Leroux is THIS close to finding Bigfoot! That’s what she tells everyone and has for years. Unlike her parents who lead more quiet and easygoing lifestyles, Sophie’s mind runs a mile a minute with all sorts of cryptid theories and plans for catching them. She’s always building some new contraption or talking someone’s ear off about how that slight motion on her security camera footage is totally the monster she was looking for. However, she aligns with her parents in that she’s deeply bound to the untouched natural environment. Every so often she’ll take a research excursion to a forest in some other state, but she feels she can find everything she’s looking for in her own backyard.

Zoey felt like a misfit in her hometown growing up, but the rest of the Lerouxes feel like fish out of water when they dare to visit her new home in the city. French Greg doesn’t understand that he can’t go into the Enchanted Forest to count leaves without being dragged on some crazy quest. Laverne has a nervous breakdown trying to call an Uber. Sophie is frustrated at the lack of green space to go monster-hunting, and gets so stir-crazy that she starts spinning wild theories about Charlie Dompler being the Squonk in disguise.

At least they tried to engage in Zoey’s new life. But this is why she prefers to visit them instead.

[maddieautobot273]

Silk & Cologne (12)

A Miguel O’Hara x OC series - Link to AO3 (X)

Chapter 12 - Danger

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x Female OC

Words: 3.2K+ words

Warnings: PG for some threats non-verbally spoken

Summary: Now it’s Lisa’s turn to deny her feelings, while Miguel and Peter B. realize Oscorp might go after her again

//////

Within a matter of minutes we arrived at the docks and one quick ferry ride later, we arrived at the small island where standing proudly, towering over us, the Statue of Liberty watched over the city. I had never seen it up close before, and it was pretty cool to look at. I had hoped to save this moment with my mom when she came to visit, but I suppose now was as good a time as any.

Toya and Touga seemed to stare at it in awe, both muttering to themselves in Japanese as they took some quick pictures on their phones as we walked.

“There’s the stage!” Hannah spoke up, freeing us all from our trance on Lady Liberty as we found the mounted structure.

It was a fairly large stage. There was enough room for a DJ set up and plenty of space for dancing. We’d have a lot of room to work with. “I’m already predicted a pretty intense routine here,”

“Right? Look at all this space,” Hannah beamed. “Now keeping in mind they might add in strobe lights and pyrotechnics, but still, we’ve got a lot of space,”

“So how do we wanna go about this?” I looked at my group members, eager to hear out their ideas.

“I can measure up the stage and figure out placements for the routine,” Hannah smiled.

“Toya and I will research METRO’S albums so we can get a feel of his music and figure out what moves will fit,” Touga had an eager grin on his face as he was already searching away on spotify.

Kasey crossed her arms, a proud smirk on her face. “Well, I took the initiative and messaged METRO directly,”

“NANI?!” The twins gawked at her in surprise. - WHAT?!

“You really think he’ll respond?” Hannah asked curiously.

He was quite a famous musician. I didn’t know too much about him, but I knew he was very successful, and with all that, understandably very busy.

“Well, until we hear a response, why don’t we follow Touga’s idea and listen to METRO’s music to figure out what kind of routine we’ll do?” I suggested. “It will help give us an idea of what his new song might be like,”

We all agreed, and after finding the security guards and explaining the situation, they agreed to let us practice for a while before the park would close. I felt the sea breeze blow through my hair as I stood on the stage, looking out into the harbor as I took in the view of the city. It was pretty nice to look at. I couldn’t imagine what the view would be like while swinging through the city. If only.

We did some warm ups before Touga played various songs from his latest album. He was the most familiar with METRO’s work out of all of us and walked us through the motions, showing and teaching us different movesets. He was a pretty good teacher. Turns out during his off time he’d teach dance classes for young kids back in Tokyo.

Until METRO’s new song came out or if he’d be willing to send us an early copy to practice with, this was the best we could manage for now.

We practiced for just over an hour or so before the security guard informed us that the park would be closing soon to start preparations for the festival. We gathered our belongings and as we were packing up, I felt my Gizmo vibrate as I looked over to see a new message from Gwen.

“How did your first day go? Tell me all about it so we can hang!” - Gwen

“Just packing up for the day. Meet up at my apartment in a little bit?” - Lisa

“Sounds good! We’ll bring the food!” - Gwen

We? Who’s we? I raised a brow at the message as Kasey and the others waved at me, calling me over.

“You better not throw a party while I’m there, my apartment is nowhere near ready for that,” - Lisa

“Bummer, I guess I’ll call off the discoball and strobelights lol ;)” - Gwen

I snickered softly at the message before lowering my wrist from my face as I met up with the others and we walked back to the ferry. After the productive day I had, I could totally go down for some good eats and hang out with my other group of friends.

//////

Miguel’s P.O.V.

It had been a grueling few hours of analyzing security footage, questioning other Spiders, and taking extra precautions to reset all the passwords that kept their spare day passes and gizmos locked in the vault for safe keeping. If there really was a mole in the society like Miguel and Peter B. theorized, they were making it incredibly hard to find them.

Miguel knew that the traitor had slipped the Oscorp guards the extra day passes, that much was certain. What concerned him was how they did it and for how long this little stunt of theirs had been going on. If they caused any trouble, the balance of the Multiverse was at risk.

Peter B. summoned himself into Miguel’s lab, arriving through a portal he fashioned from his Gizmo. “Just got back from talking with Peter in Earth-1997. He hasn’t noticed any activity with the collider since Doc Ock’s attack,”

“Nothing?” Miguel asked with a skeptical raise of his brow. “No chatter?”

“All quiet. The Harry Osborn of that dimension appears to be keeping a tight leash on things. He’s been complying with the Justice Department with their cease and desist order,” Peter B. explained as he snatched a spare empanada from Miguel’s bowl, noticing once again he had hardly eaten in the last few hours.

“So far,” Miguel added with a heavy sigh.

“Peter says he’ll keep an eye on him, and will update me if he hears anything,” Peter B. nodded as he munched on the snack, crumbs falling to the floor.

“Thank you,” Miguel nodded curtly in thanks to Peter B. before resuming his own research.

“No news here?” Peter B. asked as he went to lean against Miguel’s desk.

“No,” Miguel responded plainly before quickly adding. “Don’t get crumbs on my desk, Parker,”

“Alright, alright, I won’t make a mess,” Peter B. quickly moved away from the desk as he paced gently. “Do we even know for sure if the traitor is another Spider?”

“How else would they be able to get their hands on a day pass?” Miguel questioned, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Fair, but think about it. Those Oscorp guards last week; You think it’s just a coincidence they already had their own passes the same day of the attack with the Doc Ock variant?” Peter B. milled over his thoughts as he walked over and sat in Miguel’s office chair that he never used. He always kept it aside for Jessica if she ever needed a moment to sit down.

Miguel thought it over as he turned to face Peter B. “You think it was a distraction?”

“I’m thinking; What if they were already dimension jumping before that attack? Why go after the Spider through the portal willingly to an alternate dimension they know nothing about?” Peter B. rambled on.

“Unless they needed the Spider,” the gears in Miguel’s brain quickly started to shift.

“Like an experiment?” Peter B.’s eyes perked up.

“It wouldn’t be the first time a villain tried to research and recreate Spider-Man’s powers, right?” Miguel shot Peter B. a knowing look as the realization came to light.

“The only way to know your enemy, is to become your enemy,” Peter B. quoted. “Something like that, right?”

Miguel nodded, uncrossing his arms. “You did good today, Peter. You can head home. I’ll handle things from here,”

Peter B. stared at Miguel’s backside, studying his body language to decipher if that’s what he truly wanted. Peter shrugged nonchalantly as he stood up from the chair. “Alright then,”

He pressed a button on his Gizmo, activating a portal to his dimension. “Remember to take a break every once a while, alright Miguel?”

Miguel didn’t respond as Peter B. vanished through the portal before it closed. Miguel stood by himself in the darkness of his lab, the only sources of light were a faint spotlight hovering above him and the LED lights of the many holomonitors at his fingertips.

“Lyla, go through our database of known anomalies. See what villains have been popping up less that could match our I.M.O.” Miguel commanded.

“Yep, yep, yep!” Her voice sang through the room as another monitor appeared, filtering through a list of Spider-Man villains.

Miguel studied each of them carefully. There had to be something he was missing. Was the traitor from Earth-1997 as well? Or considering all the stolen day passes maybe they contacted Harry from another dimension.

Lyla fizzled into existence next to his face. A look of concern washing over her. “You think Harry hired the traitor?”

“I do,” Miguel nodded.

“Do you think they’ll go after Lisa again?” She asked with worry.

Miguel didn’t— couldn’t answer, the words failing him. But his nostrils flared as he took a deep breath, the irises of his brown eyes flickering red.

“As long as her dimension is showing signs that it’s repairing itself, I know she’s safe,” Miguel finally spoke.

“And if it falters at any point?” Lyla raised a brow at Miguel, hands on her hips.

Miguel offered her a stern stare. “I’ll handle it,”

“Well, you should probably warn her that Oscorp could go after her again,” Lyla suggested as she poked his cheek. “If she hasn’t already been thinking of that possibility,”

Miguel tried not to think about it. How she struggled to break free from that table. Her staggered and heavy breathing, smelling her fear and sweat that drenched her forehead. But the worst was when she called out, screaming for help. Hearing it in his nightmares woke him up last night, and he barely got any more sleep after that.

“Gwen should be with her by now. Jessica mentioned she’d be visiting her after checking in with Pav,” Miguel nodded softly, calming his breathing. “I’ll tell her later,”

“Tonight, Miguel,” Lyla narrowed her eyes on Miguel. “¿Comprendido?” - Understood

Miguel met Lyla’s gaze and couldn’t help but scoff playfully at her flawless accent. He had completely forgotten that he implemented that in her program. She just never used it before. “Yes, Lyla, iré a verla esta noche,” - I’ll go see her tonight

“Good!” Lyla smiles brightly as she poked his cheek again, a little more playful this time. “I think you two could use each other’s company,”

“Lyla, we talked about this,” Miguel rolled his eyes before pinching the bridge of his nose, mumbling to himself.

“You ended the discussion, I’m bringing it back,” Lyla grinned as she shut off a bunch of the monitors, directing Miguel’s full attention on to her, “Now let me give you some pointers on how to talk to her,”

“Lyla—” Miguel raised his voice an octave higher, eyes narrowing.

“For therapeutic purposes!” Lyla quickly raised her hands in defense. “Just because she hasn’t been talking about the attack and her powers back in her dimension, doesn’t mean she isn’t thinking about it. Now shut up, sit down, and listen up, boss,”

Miguel didn’t know what he was more impressed with. Lyla’s ever confident demeanor or the fact that he actually reached for the chair, sat down and listened to her advice on how to talk to a woman he wanted to connect with better.

///////

Lisa’s P. O. V.

“Wait, but Chai literally means tea, why would you say it twice?” I raised a brow as I munched on my noodles from my Chinese food carton.

“Thank you!” Pav, aka Spider-Man India sprang up from his seat, pointing at me. “That’s like saying coffee coffee, it makes no sense!”

“Pav, I said I was sorry!” Gwen’s cheeks flushed with embarrassment as she tried to calm him down.

“Sorry doesn’t fix the damage to my soul Gwen,” Pav frowned with a disappointed look before looking over at Hobie. “Hobie was nice enough to get it the first time!”

“I thought it was obvious?” Hobie shrugged with a cheeky grin on his face as he teased Gwen with his chopsticks who playfully swatted them away.

I laughed at their antics as I continued to munch on my food.

After dance practice with my team, I quickly rushed home to try and get a bit more cleaning and unboxing done before there was a strange sound that came from the roof and within moments I heard knocking at my living room window by the fire escape and found three Spiders poking their heads in.

As we ate, Gwen and Hobie introduced me to Pav. He had gotten his Spider bite just a little over a month ago and seemed quite cocky and confident in his abilities and responsibilities as Spider-Man. Maybe a little too cocky. But judging by his skills, he seemed to have the know-how to back it up. Not to mention a smashing set of hair.

“So in your dimension, India is only a single country?” He asked.

“Basically,” I nodded.

“Lisa’s dimension is. . . Unique,” Hobie answered after a slight pause.

“My dimension isn’t supposed to technically have superheroes. I got bitten by a spider that accidentally took a dive into my dimension,” I explained.

“Oh, so it was an anomaly, then? Something from one dimension that ends up in another dimension that it’s not supposed to be?” Pav asked. “Like Mr. O’Hara described?”

“That’s how Miguel describes them,” Gwen shrugged.

“I kind of like Mr. O’Hara. Kind of intimidating, a little scary,” Pav shuddered briefly. I could imagine he was recalling his first meeting with him before he broke out into a wide smile. “But wow is he good looking,”

I nearly choked on my noodles when I heard him say that. So far he was the bravest of us to even say that out loud. I noticed I was being watched and saw Hobie gently snicker at me. I shot him a warning glare.

Don’t you dare.

“You don’t say. . .” My voice trailed off, trying to find my composure.

“I really should ask him about his skin care routine and weight training, but I don’t want to get too buff, you know?”

“If you’re too scared to ask him directly, I’m sure Lisa could ask for you,” Hobie suggested with a knowing smile as he winked playfully at me.

Fate of my universe be damned, I will use my powers to hypnotize you and make you jump out of the window.

“Oh, really? You two are friends?” Pav asked. “I’ve noticed he doesn’t seem to hang out with a lot of the other Spiders during my initial visit,”

“Oh, I mean, we’re. . . Good acquaintances,” I

My cheeks flushed slightly as I huddled closer into my chair.

Why was I feeling so embarrassed all of a sudden?

My mind wandered back to the end of our match in the arena. Seeing the look on his face when I pinned him down, the sweat on his face, and then his laugh. That tender laugh.

I huddled deeper into my couch, munching more of my food to hide my blush.

Gwen could sense my tense look and decided to take pity on me as she nudged Pav’s shoulder. “Miguel just takes great pride in his work. Protecting the multiverse is very important to him,”

“Absolutely. But, if the opportunity comes up, I’ll put in a good word for you,” I smiled softly at Pav while my eyes flashed a silent thank you to Gwen.

We all ate in silence for a few minutes before I readjusted, moving on.

“Okay, I gotta ask, what do you do for your hair?”

“Ah, just the usual things, prayers, coconut oil and good genetics,” he shrugged like it was the most basic information you could know.

“Coconut oil, I’ll remember that,” I chuckled. “Well, I haven’t been with the Society for too long myself, so maybe we can learn from each other,”

“Oh absolutely! Ever since I met Hobie and Gwen, I feel so much better knowing I’m not the only one with this awesome gift,” Pav smiled in relief.

“I’ll teach you all the ropes, Pav,” Hobie smirked.

Pav gasped softly, giving Hobie an idolized look. “I’ve always wanted an older brother,”

I smiled at their antics. As I took another bite of my meal, I received a message on my Gizmo. I glanced down at the preview screen and froze.

“Are you free to talk later tonight?” - Miguel

Miguel wants to come over? Here? Tonight?!

Even if he had already seen my messy apartment once, it was still in desperate need of a clean. Not to mention I still had boxes to unpack. I took a deep breath.

“What’s up? Is everything okay?” - Lisa

“I’m. . . Not sure. That’s why I’d like to speak with you. I don’t want to interrupt your dinner,” - Miguel

He must know that Gwen and the others are here.

“I don’t mind. You’re more than welcome to join us. We have plenty of food!” - Lisa

There was a slight pause in his response as I could see the three little dots jumping up and down on the screen. Why were my palms so sweaty?!

“All good, Lisa?” Gwen’s voice snapped me back into reality as I noticed the three of them had stopped their own conversation, staring at me. “Who’s texting you?”

“Uh, oh, no one?” I chuckled softly.

*BING* 1 new message!

Hobie snickered. “It’s Miguel isn’t it?”

Pav gasped, bringing his hands to his cheeks. “Do you like Mr. O’Hara?”

“I think it’s more than likes,” Hobie playfully jabbed Pav’s shoulder.

“Like I said, we’re just acquaintances!” I stated as I briefly checked the newest message.

“Actually, I wanted to talk to you just the two of us,” - Miguel

“He said he finds me tolerable at best,” I clarified, glaring at Hobie as I stood up from my chair, cleaning up my mess as I brought it to the kitchen counter.

“You sure that’s all he finds you?” Hobie smirked.

I dropped my container on the counter as I turned my body towards him. If looks could kill, he would have been dead four times over by now.

“Hobie!” Gwen scowled him. She shot him a hard look before looking over towards me with a sympathetic look. “Don’t listen to him, Lisa, he just likes to cause drama,”

“Oh, I’m well aware,” I breathed heavily, trying to compose myself. “The boss is requesting a private meeting regarding classified information,”

“Say no more,” Gwen nodded with a reassuring smile as she motioned for the boys to follow her. “Come on guys,”

She opened a portal back to Spider-Society HQ. She made sure Hobie went in first as Pav quickly gathered his left overs, “Honestly Lisa, I don’t blame you. Mr. O’Hara is so bloody handsome— AH!”

Gwen shoved him through the portal, earning a laugh from me. “Take it easy tonight, Lisa,”

“I’ll see you later, Gwen,” I waved.

The portal closed, leaving me alone to my thoughts. I grabbed a pillow, screaming into it to get all my complex feelings and emotions out of my system. When I finished, I typed another message.

“Want me to save you some food?” - Lisa

“. . . Thank you. I appreciate that,” - Miguel

“Give me a few minutes to clean up and you can come over,” - Lisa

I brushed off my sweaty hands before I got to work to make the apartment and myself look more presentable and clean.

////

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[stressfulsloth]

Six Sentence Sunday

(and it's taken me so long to do it that it's actually Sunday again 😂) I was tagged by @findusinaweek thank you :))

I do have six different fics on the go right now because I am terrrible so I will do a bit from each! *More than a sentence because I feel like it's odd out of context!*

1. Kim does not like to be seen as a picky eater. He is a grown man, closer now to 50 than to 40, and certainly not a child who spits out his vegetables because they’re yucky. He will eat food that he doesn’t like, tolerate it in public if he has to, but he has to admit; before Harry, he was mostly subsisting on a diet of plain chicken, rice, butter pasta and fruit. Harry in the kitchen is a whirlwind but he presses up against Kim’s food boundaries gently, gets him to try new things without rushing headlong. This tomato pasta, always with a slightly different blend of herbs every time, is his latest success.

2. Kim sighs imperceptibly and takes another one of your fries. Your eyes follow its path through the air to his mouth. His lips, plush, full. Like a girl’s, a voice in your head chimes in. They look soft. His teeth are enticing too; there is nothing bestial about them. They are neat, flat, human. Slightly overcrowded. His canines are prominent, but no more than any other average Revacholian. Neat and almost-white. You imagine those neat white teeth extending, drawing out, elongating into a lupine snout, all sharp and dangerous and slavering. Out of control for a moment. It’s hard to picture.

3. You lean across as the music swells, builds, and place an open-mouthed kiss to his neck. You hear him sigh-

Is that irritation or interest?

-and tilt his head, allowing you more access. Your nose brushes his ear, and your lips find his pulse. You scrape your teeth over the vulnerable point. His skin in the half darkness is nearly luminous. He’s far more interesting than anything going on on the flickering screen. “Harry,” he says, low and warning, voice swallowed by the soaring strings of the soundtrack. “Behave. Watch the movie.”

4. The glass shards sparkle like diamonds on the tarmac, like a chain of princess-cut diamonds around the throat of some nineties movie star. When Ruby hooks the door open from the inside and the utility light switches on, clambers up and into her seat, mindful of the shards, she sees that her posters have been moved. Laid out on the seat. Tippe Tijonne looks back at her in black and white with big hooded eyes carved out in black shadow. She’s missing a cigarette and a glass of wine, Ruby thinks. Then she crumples the poster into a big ball and drops it out of the window.

5. It's a close fit in here, the waterproofed fabric cocoon keeping in the vapour of their breath. Kim can't sit up all the way; the roof hangs low and when he accidentally touches it it's wet and cold against the crown of his head. The air smells intensely of Harry, of slightly astringent sweat and something murkier, of apple shampoo and those sickly-sweet hard candies that he throws back constantly to keep his mouth occupied. The heat of him, barely inches away, rising off his body. The cold seeps up from the cold clayey dirt and burrows into his bones. There is too much distance.

6. It is early evening when Kim is waylaid on his way back from putting the bins out. It is Thursday, and the garbage trucks come on Friday morning while he sits at the window drinking his first cup of tea and watching the hydraulic metal arm grind and clunk as it hoists up the blue plastic can. He enjoys the levers, the sliding metal components polished clean by years of repeated motion, and he can’t say that he doesn’t see the appeal of watching the strong sweaty guys who come alongside with the truck either. Worker bees bringing back offerings to the hive. He would have liked to have got a chance to work on one of those trucks, their unfamiliar anatomy and their dense, beautiful, complicated...

All that to say that putting the trash out was not a household task that he particularly minded. It was the conversation it entailed that was the problem.

I don't want to put anyone on the spot so if you feel like you want to do this please do!! I'm going to tag @electromelancholy and @lastwave because I think I remember both of you saying you had things you're working on? But if I'm wrong feel free to ignore!! 💜

[alas-poor-cesario]

Fannish 50 #4 - BTVS, Once More With Feeling

We're at what is potentially my favourite episode of Buffy ever with this one. I quote it regularly and have the soundtrack saved to my phone.

This is the seventh episode of the sixth series of Buffy the Vampire Slayer and, more importantly for this Fannish 50 entry, a musical. 

Context

This episode was written and directed by Joss Whedon and originally aired on the 6th November 2001. 

Up to this point in the series Buffy, as the Slayer, has been helped by the "Scooby Gang" in their various end-of-the-world-oh-its-Tuesday-again type scenarios until the end of the fifth season. In this episode (which is another planned Fannish 50 installment), "The Gift", Buffy sacrifices herself instead of Dawn to save the day. The opening of season six brings Buffy back. Willow thought she was rescuing Buffy from Hell, but Buffy was actually in what she believes to be Heaven, something she keeps from her friends.

Plot:

The episode opens with Buffy lamenting how miserable her life has become in "Going Through the Motions" - she's not as inspired as she once was. The next morning everyone meets at the Magic Box and they reveal that they've also been singing. There's a song about what the cause was ("I've Got a Theory").

The gang splits to do some research and go about as normal as they can until they can solve this. Tara has a song with Willow about how much she's improved her life ("Under Your Spell"), Xander and Anya have a duet about the things that irk them about the other ("I'll Never Tell").  Buffy visits Spike who sings about him wanting her to leave him alone if she won't love him ("Rest in Peace"). They realise the songs are bringing out hidden secrets.

Dawn says to Tara she's glad that she's made up with Willow, and not remembering any argument, Tara realises that Willow has used a spell to tamper with her memory. Dawn has a song about lamenting that nobody seems to notice her before being captured by a bunch of minions ("Dawn's Lament") before the song changes into an interpretive dance as she tries to escape ("Dawn's Ballet").  Sweet (monster-of-the-week) says he came to Sunnydale to make her his bride ("What You Feel"). 

Giles realises during his song, "Standing", that he's going to have to step aside and let Buffy take care of Dawn instead of just relying on him. Around the same time Tara finds a picture of the flower Willow used in the spell and they both decide to leave the people they love ("Under Your Spell/Standing (reprise)").  

One of Sweet's minions is captured by Spike and Buffy leaves to rescue Dawn. Initially Giles forbids the Scoobies from going to help before they change their minds and race to catch up. Spike goes between leaving Buffy to her fate is best and helping her is and Sweet says that Buffy is drawn to danger ("Walk Through the Fire"). 

When she gets to the Bronze, Buffy offers to take Dawn's place. She sings here about her take on life now that she's been pulled out of Heaven ("Something to Sing About"), something that's revealed to the others here. Buffy starts dancing quickly and starts to smoke, on the verge of combusting before Spike catches her. 

It's then revealed that it was in fact Xander, not Dawn, who brought Sweet to the town wanting a happy ending. Sweet disappears after releasing Xander from the obligation of being his bride. At this point the Scooby Gang realise that their relationships have been changed too much to go back by the things they've been singing about all episode and they ask "Where Do We Go From Here"). 

Impact:

So the biggest theme and most obvious one to talk about in this is that there's so much miscommunication and lack of communication here and it hurts all of the relationships. You can't just want people to forget things happened and move on, you can't just hide things from your loved ones when it concerns them, you can't just choose to step away without considering the consequences of your actions. 

I really feel like this episode and Hush (the next I'll be covering in the Fannish 50!) are key ones to put together thematically. Here they can't stop singing about their feelings and the truth whereas in Hush they can't speak, forcing them to actually communicate. 

Before I go into detail about the songs themselves from this episode i think this is pretty much the key reason why we have a Grey's Anatomy musical episode, a Scrubs one and the like. It had a massive impact on fans and filmmakers alike. 

Going Through The Motions

This took me by surprise the first time I started watching this episode, I felt off-kilter by the fact that there's suddenly Buffy singing and staking vampires and fighting to music.  I really find it interesting that they say that they can tell she's just "going through the motions" and that essentially her heart isn't in it. Coming back from being dead has changed her and she now wants to feel alive.  It's a "trumpeted version of Where Do We Go From Here", as an "I want" song. The main hero(ine) tells you exactly what it is they're missing from their life. 

I've Got a Theory/Bunnies/If We're Together

I always loved Giles' "eh something isn't right there"  and that he interrupts Xander, firstly.  The Nightmare thing happened already in Buffy and it was great, sadly no singing. But I love that this is what they do, they're relating it to things they know and starting to develop ideas on how they can fix it.  There's this point where Anya starts singing about bunnies not being cute, and it forced me to remember here that Anya isn't human. She is a demon. She has different views to the rest of the Scoobies sometimes and in this case, coming across like a child (again) in that her reasons for disliking bunnies are that they have "twitchy noses" and "hoppy legs" and why do bunnies need good eyesight anyway. Which, looking at it, yes that's a point in favour of bunnies being kind of terrifying, and not just the Monty Python ones.

That Giles and Willow sing about it getting serious before it's passed is one of the standout lines. These are the two members of the gang known for being all researchy and the ones to suggest hitting the books. They also have this slight tone of dissaproval about Anya's bunny-rant which feels important to how they view her as a part of the group - she's not Buffy, the Slayer, Xander the friend who's been around forever basically, or Tara another witch. She's one of the things they're normally working against and I feel like they haven't let that go.

Then Buffy comes in with "I've got a theory it doesn't matter" which works so well as a line with a double meaning. You have that it doesn't matter what caused this, because as she continues to say, they can face anything together. But, on the other hand, you've got to take her last song into account here and wonder is she secretly singing the truth that she's thinking lots of things about life don't really matter in the same way to her anymore. 

 There's another hint of this pessimism when she says "Apocalypse/ we've all been there/ the same old trips/ why should we care" before everyone joins in together and brings it back to a more hopeful tone with "what can't we do if we get in it". Buffy's strength as a Slayer doesn't just come from her powers, it's from her friendships and the loyalty that the Scoobies all have for each other. 

And then Anya comes back in at the end to remind them that she's scared of bunnies and that this is sung, when we know that the enchantment is set to tell the truth, to me, shows just how uncomfortable bunnies make her. And now I want to go through every episode with a fine toothed comb and see if there's other signs of her aversion to them. But, moving on to a shorter song!

The Mustard

Okay I said song, it's more like a couple of lines just saying "they got the mustard out" This gives us a well needed break from heavy hitting musical goodness from the main cast, and shows that this spell is affecting everyone in Sunnydale.  We may be following this main group in this one particular town, but hey guess what? The world is bigger than just them and their problems.

Under Your Spell

"Oh my god I'm cured! I want the boys!" I love this line of Tara's and how she's happy and upbeat here. We see her as being shy and insecure all the time and that line before she says about not being "used to that" hits home that she can be her own person and confident at times.  The special effects here aren't great, I find them so, so cheesy but also it's pretty and magical and fantasy like and I can't fault them for that.  This is also the "magic is gay and here's proof" song which, in a show that didn't really have Willow come out by saying "I'm a lesbian" or any of that. Buffy gets to be physical with the guys she loves but Willow and Tara, to avoid the censors, show their love and affections through magic and spells and clever wordplay in this song.  "The moon to the tide / I can feel you inside" "You make me com-plete" while lying back on the bed etc. 

Tara's family in another episode criticise her use of magic and it reads very much as parents targeting their queer child, making said child shy and fear themselves.  Tara chooses the Scoobies as her true family and grows massively after this (and it includes my favourite Spike moment)

I'll talk more about this in the Standing reprise bit but there's also this joy to their song here that I don't think any of the others get (not counting the mustard here, sorry!). We've had Buffy fighting, the others not knowing what to do, and from this point we get a couple arguing, someone saying to stay away if you can't love them, a child singing about feeling alone, a parental figure realising he has to step away to help his child to grow, a song about coming together to help fight and being unsure of the future. This, when looking at all of those, is potentially the happiest song in the episode and I think that's so important with the magic = gay thing they've got going on

I'll Never Tell

This is one of my least favourite songs from the episode but I also don't really like Anya and Xander as a couple so  Also the musical style isn't really my thing either so I'm a bit biased "The name I made I'll trade for his" is such a powerful line because Anya has spent so long as a vengance demon, she's powerful in her own right but then she's making a massive trade off here to be with a human guy because she loves him.

This song is about not communicating to your partner the little things that will grow and become issues and it shows how important it is. I've actually stopped myself and went "nope I'm not having an I'll Never Tell moment, I'm talking about this" to my partner when there's been something small that's been bugging me that I just can't let go of. I even say that it's a small thing and that it's my issue, but, it's something that if I don't talk about now and deal with, it will become a big problem.  "She thinks I'm ordinary" and here's where we get one of the biggest insecurities for Xander. You have a team with a Slayer, a Witch, an ex-demon, a Vampire, the magical mystical Key, another Witch, the mentor trained about demons since he was a child and ... the guy who knew one of the witches so tagged along. 

Anya interrupts Xander multiple times, which he points out but she just does it again and it's frustrating because it breaks the pace of the song. Then the two of them dance and knowing what we know by the end of the episode that people are dancing themselves into combustion, it makes me wonder if there was a part of it that they were holding back from saying to each other. 

It then gets nicer from this point and they start settling down with each other and actually talking, even if they then go back to saying they'll never tell to each other which is the main problem. 

The Parking Ticket

Speaking of the world is bigger than the Scoobies and their problems ...  This has a comedic moment, it's a nice break away from the Scoobies and it also reminds us that there is a world full of problems outside these few main characters we know and love

Rest in Peace

If Anthony Head hadn't been in this episode then this would have easily been my top song.  Spike is so annoyed by the fact he's actually singing in front of someone and I love that annoyed look at the start of this song so much.  Think about how Buffy is wanting to feel alive now that she's not in Heaven anymore, and how Spike has "died/ but [Buffy] can make [him] feel / like it isn't so". This is a beautiful contrast where Buffy hasn't reached that stage yet but Spike uses his being undead to his advantage, he's comfortable in his role as the big bad scary vampire.  He knows he's being used by Buffy because she doesn't want to talk to the Scoobies and it's hurting him because even though he's a "dead man", he still has feelings. He can't get any peace from her because she's toying with him, he loves her and she doesn't feel the same. 

Then you get to the part where Spike's voice almost becomes soft. He's singing about how there's a "traitor here beneath my breast / and it hurts me more than you've ever guessed" but Buffy doesn't care, she's not seeing that part of him. And it's this really beautiful thing that he becomes soft when he's talking about this bit of his love for her, that he will do anything for her. 

He changes between the vampire, stalking closer to her, tormenting her and pushing her away and honestly saying his feelings. And then after he admits his feelings he turns back into the monster he knows he always will be, tormenting people at a funeral before he finally ends up in a grave, Buffy on top of him

"So you're not staying then" - this line is funny, but honestly after everything that Spike's just sang about it's kind of heartbreaking at the same time. He admits  that he loves her, that his heart is doing what his brain doesn't want and falling for her and then she just runs away from him

Dawn's Lament / Dawn's Ballet 

Again, not one of my favourite moments or the things I've listened to most from this episode  Dawn has a couple of lines about people not noticing her or caring and I know that the reason behind Dawn's lack of song is that Michelle Trachtenberg asked to not sing as much, just dance. 

What You Feel

This is where we learn about the queen thing and that it's Dawn, the child, who's almost left to work out how to back out of this thing when she feels like nobody's noticing or caring is heartbreaking.  Sweet reveals he knows how Dawn feels, that this is all his doing.  "That's the penalty when life is but a song" - Xander wants his happy ending but wishing for something like this, something that's a fantasy will collapse and crumble around him and not work out well for anyone.  You have to put effort into things, into relationships and getting whatever it is you want. 

Standing

Second favourite song of the episode lets go! This is entirely about Giles being worried about how ready Buffy is to go it on her own but knowing that he's holding her back by always being there as a crutch for her.  He knows she has a lot of things to face, a lot of new experiences to have but he's the one holding her back. He's the reason she's standing still. 

He wants to help her and do it for her; he's the father figure she needed when she was younger but because he was always there for her she's missing out on seeing and experiencing so much. She's reliant on him and he's not always going to be there for her and it's a hard thing for them both to admit.  "Wish I could lay your arms down and let them rest at last / wish I could slay your demons but now that time has passed"  - this is such a sad ballad and this line about wanting to do it for her but she's grown up now was so powerful.

Also, talking about the stuff happening on screen for this bit since it's really important in a way that's such a stand out thing; all the way through this he's sparring with her. He throws knives at her head while she's defending herself. That's all he can do to help teach her, and it's not the normal comforting role of a parent but someone raising their kid to fight and be strong and use weapons and he wishes he could give her peace. 

Under Your Spell / Standing (reprise)

And just like that it's my favourite song I love that Tara's lyrics from earlier about being in love with Willow and being enchanted by her, essentially, end up to be a literal meaning of being under a spell that Willow cast. She's worried about loving Willow while the other witch is playing with dangerous magic.  This is the song where the two (Tara and Giles) fully come to terms with the fact they have to take a step back from their loved ones. They don't want to go at all, but they know it's the best thing for them if they do.

Tara doesn't trust that Willow has not played with her memory before this, or that she won't keep doing it in the future and that's such a betrayal of trust for her.  Giles wants to keep being the leader for Buffy and take all of the suffering but if he does that then she won't grow and become the best she can be. 

Putting Giles and Tara together in this song as the ones secondary to powerful women (slayer and witch) was brilliantly done and it starts to show the sacrifices that others make when their loved ones have important things going on in their lives. 

Walk Through The Fire

Buffy starts this song singing about how she has no other choice but to walk through the fire and let it burn her, but that she can't feel. Spike then joins in to say that the torch he bears (his love for Buffy) is scorching him and that he doesn't care if she dies before almost instantly changing his mind. He's soft, he cares here. She won't learn and she will go back to the fire and let it burn her unless her friends and him do something to help her. 

Giles is unsure about his decision to step back in case Dawn gets hurt. He's wondering if Buffy is too reliant on the others, and isn't as 'there' as she should be for all of this to save them. It's a valid fear, every parent wonders if they're doing the right thing for their kids and he's letting her go to now make her own mistakes.  Xander is worried, Anya insults him but agrees that he's right. Buffy's friends are coming together to help her and Giles realises here, I think, that he can help without taking it all for Buffy. They are there to help her and that is what they will do. 

Buffy doesn't quite understand at first and thinks her friends have all turned from her,  and she's singing about not being able to talk to them when Tara chimes in with the "what can't we face if we're together" line. Tara is looking at a much bigger picture here than just her heartbreak over Willow, she's seeing everyone in trouble and knowing that if they stick together then they can make it through this thing. 

I love that they all hit the nail on the head here in this next part with Anya singing that she came from the grave much graver, Giles singing about striking a spark when Buffy is drawn to the fire but that she can't feel. He's wanting her to have a spark of emotion.  Buffy gets that this is a big flame now, it's more than just a monotonous existence of her going trhough the motions  This is the "folks coming together in a call to battle" song

Something to Sing About

Buffy can't be a normal girl, she's not given the chance and she's just fumbling through her life and making it up like we all do.  Since she can't be in Heaven / perfection anymore then her life feels like Hell. Spike comes in, being the heart in this moment and reminds her to keep on living. That things will get better, but that also life is just this. She's alive and this is life. 

What You Feel (reprise)

"say you're happy now" - Sweet is defeated but this is sort of a knife embedded in your heart in a way. They've been singing and now they're safe from him since he's decided to leave them alone so they should be happy, but also they've gone through a lot of learning about each other and themselves, can they really be happy after all of that? 

Where Do We Go From Here

Giles points out that they kinda won - with what i've just said above about Sweet telling people to say they're happy now when they should be but probably can't be feels really important.  Xander and Anya singng about the path ahead being unclear when they had their life almost figured out, getting married and all that is similarly important. 

Everyone going "hand in hand" but "walk[ing] alone in fear" is one of the best lines from this song. They can come together to defeat the monster of the week but are they really helping each other? Are they really acting like a team? No. They're still not communicating properly and letting things stand in their way. 

Coda

Spike and Buffy singing together here ; she wants to feel and she makes him feel. It's poetic and beautiful but they're unsure of where this will take them. Is that enough? 

So, to sum up, this entire episode was a key one for learning how characters feel and getting them to do it through a song enchantment was brilliant. It felt cheesy and fun but with that darker undertone and that worry that there will be something that causes an unfixable rift in the group.

[iloveabunchofgames]

#JakeReviewsItch

Amelie

BIG OL' CONTENT WARNING! At the bottom of the description on the Itch page

by Two and a Half Studios

Price (US): $3.99

Included In: Bundle for Ukraine, Queer Games Bundle 2022

Genre: Visual Novel

Pitch: Aristocrat Amelie is in lockdown while the plague ravages the outside world. Her maid feels prickly about a visit from Amelie's pen-pal. A short, anime-style visual novel, retold three times from each character's perspective, with a few branching paths

My expectations: Much to my disappointment, this does not appear to have anything to do with the major motion picture of the same name. Fox Interactive's Alien: Resurrection: The Game and Psygnosis' The City of Lost Children remain the only games based on Jean-Pierre Jeunet's illustrious oeuvre. Is no one brave enough to take a chance on a Micmacs game? So anyway, I'm going to have to put that disappointment out of mind and try to focus on reviewing Amelie for what it is rather than what it is not. I'm open to a queer visual novel with "psychological horror." Two and a Half Studios released five games in this style from 2018 to 2022. Given my recent experience with prolific visual novelists, I have concerns about them being stretched too thin. They're saying Amelie is ~20,000 words (1-1.5 hours), which is relatively constrained. This could be good!

Review:

A young woman lives with her maid in an ornate manor. Her parents, infected by the plague, have left their home until they’re better. When the woman’s pen-pal arrives for a visit, the maid is livid. The pen-pal assures them that lockdowns are lifting and travel is becoming more common, but the maid insists that for everyone’s protection, this interloper must go.

Ooooookay… It’s a game from 2021, back when we still kinda took the pandemic seriously, but society at large was starting to get comfortable admitting that we’re more concerned with Starbucks and letting children be someone else’s problem for eight hours a day than we are with preventable deaths…

One possible reading of Amelie is that we have to get back to normal. Making minimal personal sacrifice to curb the spread of a case of the sniffles that’s not even dangerous if you’re young and healthy is oppressive. Women are being oppressed by life-saving courtesy.

My reading is that it’s a ghost story. Current events like the pandemic and attacks on womens’ rights influenced it, but it’s primarily a self-contained story about ghosts.

The presentation and design are uneven. The ghost story isn’t bad. Maybe a light recommendation?

+ As trope-y ghost stories go, this one is fine. I was a few steps ahead of almost everything, but even so, it had me asking questions and looking forward to what might happen next. Plus, feminism and lesbian visibility. Cool and cool. + Dig those backgrounds and special insert shots. + The developers call the music "gorgeous." I don't agree, but it is memorable and effective, both when trying to lure you in and spook you out. + Each character is distinct. Most of the time, there aren't visual or audio cues to indicate who's talking. The name of the speaker is displayed, but I could usually ignore that and still figure it out based on the written voice.

– It's possible the ultimate message is that we need to stop living in fear and forget about coronavirus prevention. I'm immunocompromised. A member of my family died from COVID-19 last week. I believe it's just a funtimes ghost story, but maybe, just maybe, this is a work of COVID denial, and I'm not onboard with that. – Background/character art mismatch. – Going through the story multiple times with multiple characters and multiple outcomes? Good! Clicking through repeated dialogue but not clicking too fast because there might be something new inserted between the old stuff? Not good. Did we learn nothing from Arrested Development's fourth season? – Two and a Half Studios, you have promise, and I hope you learned some lessons. Think about how long we're going to be in these scenes, and figure out your artists' priorities—and make sure they're working together. Think about what you're saying. Are we making choices or not?

🧡🧡🧡🤍🤍 Bottom Line: If you got Amelie in a bundle and creepy ghost stuff is up your alley, sure, why not? It's nothing new or exceptional, but the ghost stuff? It's fine. For potential paying customers, here's an endless list of Itch visual novels tagged with "horror" and "LGBT". You don't need this one.

#JakeReviewsTwitch is a series of daily game reviews. You can learn more here. You can also browse past reviews...

• By name • By rating • By genre

[stanislawkowalski]

Kings have mistresses, Queens have secrets and they die with them. / sprinkles this (shes just a queen without a king wink wonk nastka)

The grand hall was a picture of gold and shadow, where light and music made love in a dance as ancient as the kingdom itself. The air was thick with the perfume of jasmine and secrets, the soft murmur of conversation a lullaby beneath the steady rhythm of the waltz. Nastka moved through this world with practiced ease, his arms cradling Loni as they glided together across the marble floor. The opulence of the court blurred into a haze of colour and motion, yet his focus remained unyielding. There was no one else in the world but her, no other face, no other thought that could pull him from the spell which was casted.

Loni's words lingered in his mind. It was a confession dressed as an observation, delicate yet deadly, whispered against the backdrop of the ballroom. The sentiment clung to him, echoing in the hollow places where truth and treachery often danced.

As they spun together, Nastka’s hold on her subtly tightened, an instinctive reaction to the currents of intrigue that swirled around them. He could feel the warmth of her body even from this small distance, the faint tension in her posture, and Stanislaw allowed himself the indulgence of imagining that the world outside their dance had ceased to exist. Here, in the eye of the storm, only the two of them mattered.

The music, a siren's song of strings and brass, wound its way through the room, guiding their steps as it had guided countless before them. Yet for Nastka, this was not merely a dance—it was a game, a perilous exchange where the stakes were hidden behind every glance, every breath. Loni was at the centre of it all, a mystery he longed to unravel, even as he knew the danger of delving too deep.

With a subtle tilt of his head, Nastka leaned closer to her, his breath warm against her ear. His voice, when he spoke, was a low murmur, each word a carefully crafted step in their intricate dance. “Secrets have a way of binding those who keep them... or breaking them apart.” The words were smooth, like the surface of a still lake, yet beneath them lay an undercurrent of something darker, something that spoke of the weight of truths too dangerous to be uttered. “--what happens when the mistress becomes the secret? Does she too die with it, or does she live on, hidden in the shadows, where only those who dare to look can find her?”

He pulled back slightly, just enough to search her eyes for any sign of the effect his words had on her. The game of court was one of subtlety, of veiled intentions and unspoken desires, and Nastka was a master of it. But Loni—Loni was a riddle, a beautiful enigma that beckoned him closer, even as it threatened to consume him.

The music began to slow, the final notes hanging in the air like the breath before a confession. Yet Nastka did not release her - a touch that lingered like a question, a challenge hidden within the softness of a caress. “Tell me, Miss,” he whispered, his voice just a breath above the silence, meant only for her ears, “if secrets die with their queens, then what becomes of the knights who protect them?”

His words were a blade wrapped in silk, an invitation laced with peril. In the spinning world of the ballroom, with the court watching yet oblivious, Nastka found himself dancing too close to the fire. And for once, he did not mind the heat. // @maljefe

[delaneegail]

Blog Post 2 --Music

Music that I relate to this class!

Based on our class discussion on March 27th

Dreamers performed by Jungkook BTS

Jungkook BTS. “Dreamers.” Dreamers [Music from the FIFA World Cup Qatar 2022 Official Soundtrack], Katara Studios, 2022. Spotify, open.spotify.com/track/0jY618wuln0b5b8sCxFgjk?si=5984a81bcb554860

This is a song that first came to mind to me. I am huge BTS fan, and I remembered that one of the BTS members performed at the 2022 FIFA World Cup in Qatar. The song is about achieving one's dream. It also highlights how one's hard work has allowed dreams to come to reality. The performance of this song in a world stage in Qatar signifies how music can be a common language to different cultures.

Arabian Nights performed by Bruce Adler and Disney

A Whole New World performed by Lea Salonga and Brad Kane and Disney

Menken, Alan and Ashman, Howard. “Arabian Nights.” Aladdin (Original Motion Picture Soundtrack), Walt Disney Records, 1992, track 1, Spotify, open.spotify.com/track/0CKmN3Wwk8W4zjU0pqq2cv?si=ab20df9beb964674

Menken, Alan and Rice, Tim. “A Whole New World.” Aladdin (Original Motion Picture Soundtrack), Walt Disney Records, 1992, track 9, Spotify, open.spotify.com/track/5VIfacsWytkcgr7aTt8Tql?si=474b084114604623

When I think of Arab culture portrayed in media, the Disney animated movie Aladdin first comes to mind. My favorite song from the movie is "A Whole New World" specifically performed by Lea Salonga, as she is a fellow Filipino. The song "Arabian Nights" describes the stereotypical setting of an Arab country--"it's flat and immense and the heat is intense." Based on our class discussion, I've learned that the lyrics of "Arabian Nights" can negatively connote the Arabic culture, especially with the lyrics "It's barbaric, but hey, it's home."

Where is the Love performed by Black Eyed Peas

Black Eyed Peas. “Where Is The Love?” Elephunk, Interscope Records, 2004, track 13, Spotify, open.spotify.com/track/0xmjwnQ3FNE6HuWCt2nHdZ?si=eb3f5ada72d847a0

This song also comes to mind when I think about our class title. "Where Is The Love?" calls to attention the double standards individuals have for other cultures in comparison of their own. The song compares stopping overseas terrorism to domestic terrorism. It implies how our society is focusing a lot of our attention overseas, while turning a blind eye to terrorism occurring at home. "Overseas, yeah, we tryna stop terrorism, But we still got terrorists here livin In the USA..." Aside from having a deep message (which is, where is the love these days), the song is very catchy.

Danger Zone performed by Kenny Loggins

Loggins, Kenny. “Danger Zone.” Top Gun – Motion Picture Soundtrack, Special Expanded Edition, Sony Music Entertainment, 1999, track 1, Spotify, open.spotify.com/track/3hMHG6lx9QHVcfYSUr5PoM?si=d8a899f8dd8f40b2

The movie Top Gun is the first movie that comes to mind when I think about American strength. Top Gun showcases the US Air Force's mighty planes and aerial performances. Every time I hear the song "Danger Zone" I immediately connect it to Top Gun. Again, based on our class discussion on March 27th, a lot of Hollywood media always portrays US military as mighty and powerful in comparison to Arabic militaries. With this in mind, I find Top Gun as a good example of US military power.

[xenopoem]

Posthuman Review: Shaun Lawton & Nicholas Alexander Hayes

"In a few quick years, the first transhuman in vivo Minksian-Kurzweill clone emerges from its neonatal intensive care unit, eyes unblinking. Max quickly grows to establish the first CORE school (Consilience Of Recombinant Extropy) by the seasoned age of four. In the year 2020, eight-year-old Max engenders a transubstantiative doctrine reprising Heraclitus's ideas of flux. He publishes his manifesto >H by sending it back in time to his conception-year, where it now happens to appear on certain nodal points of the internet. Stars and their remnants, in the beginning, appear perfect with our skulls the shape of eggs while we listen to the music of the spheres. We never know we are dreaming, despite the uncanny appearance of our faces barely submerged below the surface of an image trapped on a screen, as if gazing at a host of cameras that were recording the whole scene and playing it back in overlapping sequences until rendered in 3D, a sort of holographic emergence as a film to show the whole fully recorded history of the human race intact in one performance taking hours to play out that tells the story of our pregalactic form expanding like a cell splitting into divisions congruent with the microchip cluster each acquires to their myriad snowflakes and fingerprints; no two are quite alike, this quality of uniqueness the most common attribute in the galaxy because it takes its shape from the constant force it has been from the beginning, a dorsal fin configuration pre-eminent to radial symmetry, subdivided from the pie & expanding in the recesses of our own mind at rates which we don’t share and we don't want to have to admit even to ourselves it could be the case but on the face of it our individuality evaporates along with the rest of the universe, siphoning itself back & forth both in and out of existence, in a blinking state of awakened beings cycled in an infinite figure eight Mobius strip, along the thermodynamic principle where the electromagnetic motors of creation pass along the triggering current arriving in its multiplicity of waves so here we are much further away from the start than we'd ever imagined before making it in a world on the verge of boiling over with accelerating change to the point it's quaking under this pretense we begin thinking about the stars & their remnants to which we end up belonging while the motion picture of our lives flashes inside our mind in an effortless gesture disarming the gravid affront with united civic resistance paving the way forward for the benefit of our progression into the distance only going to show which ends up being the case that it doesn't really matter so much as the belief we hold well and verily fixed foremost in our mind unravels before a hand to be woven in predetermined fashion foremost reveals the negative gravity bound pressure resistance capsule in the shape of a psychonautical skull transcript." - Shaun Lawton

Δ = (Σ(bug + defect + flaw + hitch + malfunction + mishap + problem + glitch + defeat + delay + difficulty + adversity + complication + crisis + deadlock + dilemma + gridlock + predict + meant + dire circumstance + hard ship + impasse + standoff + stand still + pickle + plight + condition + breakdown + trouble + anxiety + concern + danger + debacle + complication + hazard + catastrophe + changes + confrontation + disaster + calamity + emergency + failure + quandary + collapse + decline + breaks down + beating + annihilation + destruction + raw carnage + elimination + eradication + decimation + extinction + obsolescence + end of life + extermination + void + nullity + nonbeing + nothing + zero + ∅ + H in a few quick years + transhuman + Minksian-Kurzweill clone + neonatal intensive care unit + eyes unblinking + Max + CORE school + Consilience Of Recombinant Extropy + four + 2020 + eight-year-old Max + transubstantiative doctrine + Heraclitus's ideas of flux + manifesto + internet + STARS AND THEIR REMNANTS + beginning + skulls + shape of eggs + music of the spheres + dreaming + uncanny appearance + faces submerged + image trapped + screen + host of cameras + recording + overlapping sequences + 3D rendering + holographic emergence + fully recorded history + human race + pregalactic form + cell splitting + microchip cluster + snowflakes + fingerprints + uniqueness + galaxy + constant force + dorsal fin configuration + radial symmetry + mind + individuality + universe + existence + blinking state + awakened beings + infinite figure eight Mobius strip + thermodynamic principle + electromagnetic motors of creation + multiplicity of waves + accelerating change + quaking + stars & their remnants + motion picture of our lives + united civic resistance + progression + belief + fixed foremost + negative gravity bound pressure resistance capsule + psychonautical skull transcript by Shaun Lawton)

Explanation: The equation Δ represents the dynamic nature of life and the universe. It encompasses a wide range of elements, from challenges (bugs, glitches, difficulties, etc.) to unique qualities (uniqueness of snowflakes, fingerprints, etc.) to the constant changes in the cosmos. The equation also incorporates the concept of time travel and the emergence of transhuman technology.

Nicholas Alexander Hayes' figure (1)

Nicholas Alexander Hayes' figure (2)

[doubtingthomasin]

kinktober: hellcheer edition

prompt 2: forced orgasm

word count: 2.5k

MINORS DNI

(this is a continuation of yesterday's. it's a bit shorter but i hope y'all enjoy!)

@viharker

-------

Chrissy swears the walk outside to Eddie’s van is the longest walk of her life. But as soon as they see the vehicle he starts running, making her laugh and shout as she speeds to catch up. He turns to her with a blinding smile as she keeps running to the passenger side, opening the door to climb in. The familiar aroma of cigarette smoke and weed greets her instantly. As soon as her seatbelt’s on, he’s peeling out of the parking lot and onto the main road.

“Where are we going?” she asks, unphased by his driving. If anything, it makes her feel even more alive.

“Well, my uncle would still be at home right now,” he deliberated, “so I guess it’s the woods for us.” She’s listening, but she’s also caught up in the way the late-day sun is shining through the window on him, outlining his face and hair in orange light. He glances over at her, noticing her soft smile and giving one in return. “If that’s okay with you.”

“Yeah, yeah,” she assures him, shaking herself from her daze. She’s still aching between her legs from the pleasure he’d denied, her panties now soaked from where she had to put them back on. That’s when she gets a possibly dangerous but devilish idea.

His eyes are trained on the road when something silky suddenly hits him on the cheek, falling down into his lap. It only takes one glance to recognize her underwear, and his laughter echoes through the van the moment he does. “Chrissy, you’re not helping my, uh…situation over here.”

She looks where he motioned to, down at his crotch, and she can see him straining against his already tight pants. “Good.”

He shakes his head, biting his lower lip before releasing it with a tsk. “You’re a little minx, you know that?”

Her only response is a musical, lilting laugh, and he swears he’s never been happier than in this moment.

They finally find a place to pull off, an overgrown gravel driveway that used to lead somewhere. It’s just far enough off the road that the trees fully cover them from view. They’re both out of the car like lightning, and he swings the back doors open for her to climb in. Thankfully, the gig they’d had a few nights before means that the back is still fairly cleaned out, save a few fast food wrappers. He’s about to apologize for them when she grabs the moving blanket he uses to cover the amps and spreads it out, impressed at her apparent ability to read his mind.

Chrissy has her back turned to him, flattening the last corner of the blanket when he climbs in after her, growling as he catches her around the waist. She yells in delight, laughing as he rolls her onto her back, and she yanks him down by his jacket collar to pull him into a breath-stealing kiss. She wraps her arms around his neck as his hands spread fire up her thighs, but he suddenly pulls away. She whines before she realizes he’s just pulling the doors shut to give them full privacy.

Then he’s back, shedding his vest and jacket again, and she pulls at his shirt with a pout. He pulls it off too, revealing his chest and the tattoos decorating his skin. How had it taken her until senior year to realize how beautiful he was?

She’s already laying back on the blanket as he crawls over to her on hands and knees. “Now…where were we?”

“Eddie,” she groans, knowing there’s no way he’s forgotten.

“Right, right, right,” he says dramatically, resting over her on his forearms as he brushes a strand of hair off her forehead. His face breaks into a wicked grin before he continues. “I was about to make the Queen of Hawkins High come on my face.”

She groans again from the picture he’s painted as his lips close over hers, her hands carding through his hair again. He kissed her deeply as if he’s really trying to take the air from her lungs, one hand pressing through her curls and caressing her. She whimpers against his lips as two fingers press inside, the palm of his hand rubbing at her clit. He breaks the kiss so her sounds can fill the van, one of her sweet little hands falling to his arm.

“Another finger, baby?” he asks, trying to catch her eye, but she’s already hazed over again as the pads of his fingers find the spot inside. She nods vigorously, looking up at him as her pussy takes a third digit, her mouth forming a pretty circle as he stretches her. Her head falls back onto the blanket, eyes closed as he fingers her, pressing and curling and making her moan.

“Feels so good.” She slurs it out, her hips bucking against his hand, and he knows he’s running out of time. They pulls her shirt up and over her head, her thin bra next, and she’s bare before him for the first time. He lets slip a choked sigh before bending down to worship her chest, sucking her nipples to hard points as she wails.

“Isn’t that better?” he groans, backing off lest he make her come sooner than he wants. “You can be as loud as you want in here.” She’s mewling and nodding as he plays her nipple between his calloused fingers.

“Eddie, please.” Fuck, he’ll never get tired of hearing her beg. “Need more.”

“More, princess?” He places his thumb over her clit, stilling all his movement. “What do you say?”

“Pleas, master, please!” she yells desperately, the hand still in his hair tightening just how he likes. His eyes roll back in his head for a moment, that urge to just thoroughly fuck her into oblivion returning. He uses that moment to remove her skirt, amazed that none of her arousal seeped into the crisp white fabric.

It occurs to her, like some far distant warning siren, that she’s completely naked in the back of Eddie Munson’s van, willingly at his mercy as he trails his hot mouth down her chest. And it occurs to him that he’s about to eat out cute little head cheerleader Chrissy Cunningham, which could somehow get out and cause her very-much-jock boyfriend and his cronies to murder him.

He already knows it’d be worth it.

He continues kissing down her stomach, tickling the taut skin over her hipbone with his lips. Her sighs are so breathy, so shaky that she’s sure he knows just how close she already is. But he keeps moving lazily, the kisses getting slower the closer he inches towards his destination. Then he sits up, staring her in the eye as he gently takes her ankle and kisses.

She’s almost impatient, but also entranced by the way he touches her, the calluses on his fingers catching the sensitive skin behind her knee. She shivers at the unexpected sensation as he continues kissing his way down. He mouths at the juncture of her pelvis and thigh, his stubble scratching pleasantly at her soft flesh. She starts muttering his name as if it’s a prayer, as if he were holy or deserving, and he rests her legs on either side of his face as he places a soft kiss to her opening.

The sudden, loud whimper that elicits almost makes him laugh, but her heady scent filling his nostrils keeps him quiet. He places one of her hands in his hair before curling his around her thighs, licking a long strip from her pussy to her clit.

He doesn’t stop for the shrill cry she emits in response, already lost in the taste of her. She’s sweet–he fucking knew she’d be–and salty, a little bit earthy. He idly wonders whether or not he can get addicted as she tugs at his hair, keeping him where they both want him to be. He moans into her, sending it straight up into her chest. He flicks his tongue at her opening, then further up, then further, until his lips close around her clit.

“Fuck!” She draws the word out, its pitch climbing higher the harder he sucks. He lets go wetly, lapping at her again to catch a good amount before swallowing.

“You’re so good, Chrissy, so fucking good,” he babbles before continuing, sucking on the tender skin by her entrance, circling her clit with his tongue.

And she’s slowly falling apart, screaming and crying for more as he gently tortures her.

He considers getting his fingers involved again, deciding instead to spear her on his tongue. She gasps so loud he almost stops, but she’s pulling at his hair harder and it actually makes him whine. His fingers dig into her thighs to hold her still as he licks inside her. Spears her again. Fucks her with it. Curls it inside her. She’s still screaming so he does it all again.

“Eddie, please, I’m fucking begging you, let me come. I’ll do whatever you want, please just let me come!” The urgency in her voice actually makes him stop, and he crawls up her body to find that there really are tears in her eyes. “Eddie, please.” She’s quieter under his gaze, and he wonders if he’s pushed her too far.

“Is it too much, gorgeous?” He asks it earnestly, the backs of his fingers warm against her cheek.

“N-No, I just…I just need…”

He places his lips on hers and she leans up into the kiss, tasting herself on his tongue, making her groan. “You taste so good, I got carried away.”

She has nothing to say to that, but her head falls back again with a relieved sigh as he strokes her again. He’ll have to remember how sensitive she is from now on, and he catalogs it in his mind as he sinks back between her legs. “Let me make it up to you.”

His lips close around her clit again, his hands massaging her thighs as her chest heaves. He rolls the nub with his tongue, feels her legs jerking with the effort not to squeeze around his ears. Except that’s exactly what he wants.

His eyes rake up her body to see that hers are still closed. “Chrissy, look at me.” Her eyes open slowly, taking in the sight of him between her legs, and she finally realizes. 

In this moment, in this scenario, he’s completely at her mercy.

She leans up on her forearms to watch as he starts sucking her clit again, and her legs clench as she whimpers. He encourages it, pressing her thighs into his face as he keeps eye contact. But as she gets closer to the edge, it gets harder to keep her eyes open, and her eyelashes flutter beautifully against her cheeks as he alternates between sucking and flicking his tongue at her. Her breathing gets heavier and he knows she’s close, almost there, just a little bit more, God, right there–

Her hips buck into him suddenly as she gasps, his fingernails digging into her skin, the pressure of her orgasm so intense that she’s almost soundless at first. But once she catches her breath, his tongue and fingers working her through to the end, she cries out his name in a tone he knows he’ll never forget. She falls back on the blanket, a quivering, moaning mess. He watches her for a moment as his breathing evens out, one hand smoothing over the trembling skin of her waist. 

She thinks he’s just cleaning her up when he spreads her legs once more, until his tongue is inside her again.

“Oh, Eddie,” she pants, close to overstimulation as he growls into her. “Eddie, I can’t.”

“Yeah, you can, baby,” he says quickly, “One more, okay?”

She groans at the feeling of his lips on her clit, sucking almost painfully now. But then he stops and she’s almost relieved, except she wishes he’d just find another place to touch her instead of stopping completely.

And then a surge of panic strikes her as he starts undoing his belt. “I-I don’t think I’m ready.” For half a second, she’s terrified he’ll be angry.

Eddie looks at her, confused for a moment before his eyes lighten. “Oh, no, no. I’m just getting these jeans off, promise.”

“Oh.” She breathes easier as he continues, removing only his jeans, though she thinks it’s a bit late in the game to take off more clothing. “Why?”

“I think I know how to make this easier on you,” he explains, settling between her legs again. This time, though, he presses his groin into hers, making them both moan. She lays back, bringing him with her as he kisses her, nibbling at her lip. His hands slide into hers, their fingers clasped as he starts moving in earnest, grinding into her.

Their lips aren’t an inch apart as he slides his clothed length against her, his tip catching on her clit. And it’s still intense, but there’s no edge of pain or overstimulation like there was before. Even if there was, she thinks it might be worth it just to hear the sounds currently falling from his lips, to see the pained and blissful expression on his soft face.

If she’s absolutely wrecked, he’s following close behind, his thrusts getting harsher the closer he gets to completion. He rolls his hips, and she gasps at the feeling of his tip pushing at her opening. He lays down closer to being flat without crushing her, groaning into the crook of her neck. She holds him close as he moves faster, one leg wrapping around his waist to give him a better angle as one hand slides down the back of his boxers.

“Fuck, Chrissy.” They whine and moan loudly, falling into a rhythm as the friction brings them both closer to the end. He’s thrusting hard enough to shake the van and she falls over the edge first, her body arching fully into his as his hips jut once, twice–and he grabs his shirt, pulling out his cock just in time to spill into the black fabric, biting back his louder cries as Chrissy keeps shaking under him.

He throws his shirt to the side, resting his forehead against her collarbone as he wraps his arms around her.

Their bodies finally grow still after several minutes, their breathing back to a normal rate. She feels loose and relaxed for maybe the first time in years, content even, and the happiness he felt earlier endures as he shifts to pull her into his side. “Jesus Christ.” He breathes it out, thinking she might have fallen asleep until–

“Let’s just stick with Chrissy for now.”

Their eyes meet, and his face slowly breaks out in a smile as she laughs, both of them chuckling at their own humor as he kisses her once more.

And as he rests his chin against her forehead, he knows he’d die a hundred deaths by her boyfriend’s hand just to have her again.

[thecameronchronicles]

Scavengers Part Four- The Echoes

Part 1! Part 2! Part 3!

TW: Language. Perilous situations. Threats. Smut. 

SUMMARY: The mystery to finding Kiara leads you closer to the truth, and danger, as you are left to question everyone, including Pope…

WORD COUNT: 2100

Scavengers Part 4: The Echoes

Luckily for you, you wouldn't have to try and make an excuse to evade Pope as you were summoned to a meeting in the commons by the Dean, just as the scavenger hunt had begun a few days prior. But just before even a word was uttered from anyone, you couldn't help but compare just how much had changed in that short amount of time. Your enemy knew every kink of your body as it was tested and twisted by his own convictions. You were set in the center of a dangerous game of cat and mouse where you were altering in position from predator to prey. And finally, you held a solid piece of evidence that could take down the likes of both Rafe and Ward Cameron with a single upload to any social media site. But you wouldn't be allowed to act on anything as this was mandatory and took precedence. 

"It is with heavy hearts that we have to postpone, if not cancel the Scavenger hunt." The group was a mixed bag of groans and indifference as some had done it for kicks and others were desperate for the money. 

"Policies have been broken and there is an investigation to some vandalism and an assault last night against Rafe Cameron..." Ward glared at you, moving his gaze away in the nick of time before anyone would make the correlation. But you knew he knew. A part of you hoped he would. Because a look of intimidation meant he felt that you needed to be put in your place. Which meant you had some sort of power. If only he knew how much you truly did... 

"Can we talk-" Pope asked as the group was disbanded, explanations of returning to classes as normal and extracurricular activities and clubs now heavily scrutinized with on site security would send you into a pull away from him. 

You managed to hide away within the library, at the Cafe just on the edge of the campus grounds, and finally back to your dorm before your roommate moved to the door. With your headphones and a distracted mind, you didn't pay attention as she pulled the door open, Pope requesting to see you before you were left alone with him. 

"I've been trying to find you all day..." 

"Well now you have..." 

His eyes narrowed before he let out a sigh. 

"Why are we back to this? Did last night-" 

"Last night was...inconsequential." You confessed, laptop forced to the side feet stationed for some form of literal and proverbial grounding. 

"Inconsequential- '' He scoffed. "Kinda hard to believe that when I can still feel you clenched around my cock-" You slapped him, his arrogance swatted away as you went to do it again simply because you were speechless of what to say against him, finding him to catch your hands. 

"You want to tell me why you've resorted back to acting so cold to me? Both know it isn't because you had to fake it." You struggled for freedom he would deny until you tired enough to let him hold you effortlessly. 

"My phone. Three pictures from the most recent number." You motioned to it beside the laptop, still playing music from Spotify before he loosened his grip enough so you could try for the door. But he was too swift, and apprehended you in the attempt to flee. Large grasp locking you in place against the door as he took your phone to view. 

"You could have just asked-" 

"Like you'd tell me?" You shot back, his leg between your legs and his one arm holding yours at your stomach as he made it impossible to leave. 

"Looks like more than just tutoring..." He let out a sigh, considering you before speaking. 

"I knew her before college, okay? We were friends...back in OBX. Close. I had feelings for her growing up that she never reciprocated until coming here. But she played with me. She said she just wanted to know what it would feel like to be with a good guy...a soft guy. I was offended and I-" He paused. "I knew if I told you, you'd think I was hiding something. And I guess I was, but it isn't what you think." 

"Oh, no?" 

"No. Because I found out what she was doing to Ward. She was blackmailing him. Found out the scavenger hunt money was stolen from people...good people...like your father." Your jaw clenched as tears formed in your eyes. 

"It wasn't some donation from him, it was theft. A tax to live amongst one of the Camerons. THOSE pictures are a mix of an argument between unrequited feelings and her being reckless...she's always been...but I didn't want to see her get hurt...okay?" He loosened his grip. 

"Why not just say that?" 

"Because for the first time in two years, I was able to be close to you and not have you shoot me daggers. I was able to understand we had more in common than just the need for academic glory and-" You went to speak as he forced you harder against the door. 

"And now I know how you feel and I want you to feel like you have a say...but not until I've had mine-" With a hand to your jaw, you were taken harder against the door. Lips you'd missed, even though it had been less than twenty four hours, even through indifference and hostility. And it would take only a second of this relinquishment for him to understand you wanted this as well. Once certain, his hand was quick to work the button of your jeans free, a hand slipping into the seam. 

“Fuck, I love how wet you are for me.”

“Pope-” You spoke his name in what sounded like reservation, enough to draw his hand to your jaw. 

“Tell me to stop and I’ll go. I’ll leave you THIS wet…forced to wonder how I would have taken care of you…Because we both know I would…Just-”

You took your hand to his belt, interrupting him with a grip wrapped around his shaft. Precum used as lubrication as he set his head back in temporary relief. 

“I take it you forgive me for not being forthwith-” Your mouth parted as his middle finger made its way inside of you, bending to your g-spot as he smirked in knowing your body molded to him. 

“I want to hear that you trust me…I need to know you do…Tell me or I’ll stop-”

“I trust you…” You managed to choke out, unsure why he made everything so believable, eradicating every sense of doubt within the glide of a second finger inside of you. He would continue to please you, relishing in the way you sounded coming undone beneath him. But the sudden retraction of his hand would leave you winded and now looking at him in bewilderment. 

“I was so close…”

“I know…Shit, I know…” He paused, his dry hand coming to your cheek. “But I need you to understand that I don’t want this unless it’s real…Unless I know you trust me-”

“I said-’

“You said that with my fingers making you want to come.” You clenched your jaw with how matter-of-fact he had become about things. Your eyes set to his, reading the sincerity behind his own lust-blown irises that sent your thighs to dampen that much more. 

“I know you wouldn’t hurt anybody, Pope…At least…” Your hand returned to him. “Not unless it was sexual deprivation maybe…and teasing-”

He smirked behind his groan before his eyes came open to bask in how you appeared to him this way, eager to please and sultry in your usual reserved persona. 

“I think it’s time someone showed you how mean that can be…” You directed him to the edge of your bed, pulling him from his jeans, with a convicted rhythm in existence within your mouth, a tongue rushing across the ridges of his shaft having sent him to flex his hips that you flattened with hands to his thighs. Edging him to prove your point.

“Does THIS tell you how much I trust you, Pope?” You asked, rising with teary eyes as he brushed your cheeks with a thumb on either side, before ultimately stationing his touch to your hair, wrapping it in a tight fist before nodding. 

“I’m about to show you how much…” Your eyes remained frozen on him as you took him well beyond your limitations as he cursed your name from behind his teeth. 

“Come here…” He groaned, bringing you onto your back with an effortless sweep once you were on your feet, driving your legs over his shoulders before feeling him smirk against your sex. 

“You taste so good, I could spend all night savoring you…”

“Then fucking do it.” You challenged, hands running through your hair as he chuckled to your reaction. 

“A little eager?” He looked down, “Well I already know just how much…”

“Fuck me, Pope…Please…”

“I want-”

“Fuck. Me.” You ordered as he cocked his head before alining himself into you. The first thrust sent you higher up on the bed as the second would have you in his arms. He pulled you over him in a straddle, taking stock of the way you moved against him. His hand was led to your breast by his own motivations, kneading the heaving skin beneath, before you rocked against him in such a way that made him desperate. 

“Now…I need you right-” You pulled yourself over him, fingers running through his hair and pulling it until you could kiss him, tongues and breaths sporadic and in a tease, as you climbed to a high once again. 

“Oh my God!” You called out to him, being taken onto your back as his hand hit at your computer, a smirk of the obstacle distracting him for a second before his eyes fixated on the name spread across your screen. 

“You’re still going to blackmail him? After everything?”

“Pope-” He tried to pull away as you led his face between your hands. 

“Please-”

“It’s dangerous. HE is too dangerous…Promise me you won’t…Promise me you’ll stay away from this…please…” He spoke through a series of slow thrusts prompted by your initiation. You offered a nod as he rooted up into you, bottoming out, and keeping himself stationed. 

“Trust goes both ways. And I know you well enough to know you aren’t going to just let this die. So promise me you’ll stop…I don’t know what I’d do if anything happened to you.”

“I promise, Pope.” He resumed his pace, quickly returning to that mutual edge, your name cursed out in approval and awe, before he would pull you into him and you would fall asleep in his arms. 

You would awaken with the urgency to use the bathroom, dragging your phone along with you, as you lifted it to view to delete those pictures of Pope and Kiara. But upon doing so, you caught a clue that would make the promise you made to him futile. A new trail that would allow you the chance for answers, to even save Kiara. 

“You and I need to talk…” Yo explained to Sarah as she opened the dorm room door, optioning to close it before you showed the picture on your phone. 

“I know you took this. It’s the same curtain in the corner of the picture…So you’re gonna help me so we can help Kiara…”

“I can’t. It’s my family…” She confessed as your phone vibrated with an incoming message, encrypted and sent from an anonymous source. With Sarah’s fingers in view, you were validated it was not her, but you were both sent looking at your screen. 

Edge of campus well house. Come alone with the tape. Now.

“You’re going to go?!”

“I might be able to help Kiara…”

“You think she’s…alive?”

“I do. Why else would everyone be so worried for us to find her?”

“Wait! What tape?! Why are-”

“Sarah, I am wasting time….Kiara could be…I don’t even want to think about it-”

“You’re right…” Pulling a jacket over her arms, your eyes narrowed. 

“Tell me on the way then-”

“You’re coming with?”

“Kiara was my friend…Which makes it more relevant to ask why YOU’RE going…”

“Because she meant something to Pope…”

“And he really means something to you, doesn’t he?”

“We don’t have time…I know you wanted me to stay away from him, its why you sent those messages…” She bowed her head. 

“I saw what I saw…”

“But you don’t know him…”

“And YOU don’t know these people, what they’re capable of. You could be walking into a suicide mission.”

“Better to try and help-”

“What if it means YOU ending up like her?”

“I can’t sit here.”

“Fine then. But we’re bringing backup…”

“Backup?” She nodded, pulling a taser from her bedside table. 

“Let’s go get Kiara back…”

Taglist: @hopebaker @iovdrew @penny4yourthoughts @magnificantmermaid @pickingviolets @lovedetlost @trikigirl271 @maybankslover @slut4starkey @slvtherinseeker @obxiskewl @obxxrxfes @bluesongbird @slut-era @ailee-celeste @rafesbae @camilynn @sweetestdesire @onmykneesforrafe @drews1love

[whisperdreams-blair]

The sharp knocking on the door yanked Blair from the few moments of peace she had found in unconsciousness. Adrenaline caused her body to jolt into action, an uncoordinated tangle of limbs launching itself off the couch  and inevitably crashing into the hardwood floor. Blair let out a low groan as the impact caused pain to radiate out from her still healing injuries. With a quick check to make sure she hadn’t reopened any of the wounds and wasn’t in danger of bleeding out in the living room, the witch set about peeling herself off the floor with minimal cursing. The barely healed wounds seemed to throb in time with the knocking. Blair had half a mind to stab whoever was behind it. 

The familiar voice stopped Blair in her tracks as it drifted through the door. She paused, hand on the doorknob, seriously considering leaving the vampire on the doorstep. The anger of her inaction in the aftermath of the festival burned deep in her chest. What was the point of all the power these Vampires supposedly wielded if the people they loved could be murdered, and..fuck. Blair knew the anger she felt wasn’t just about the music festival. As much as she wanted to walk away, and turn on music to drown out the knocking, Blair knew that they were too interconnected from their loss for her to truly walk away. 

Blair opened the door with a roll of her hazel eyes and a sigh, letting the door swing open wide, she motioned for Laure to come in. “Come on in Laure. Unless now that you’ve seen my face you can check it off your list and move on.” It came out a little bit snarkier than she had planned but Blair couldn’t find herself regretting it. Letting in her guest caused Blair to  turn a critical eye to her apartment for the first time since the music festival trying to see with fresh eyes what her den had turned into. What she found had her wincing slightly. 

Various ingredients for different workings covered the entire  living room table, books, and notebooks covered in notes covered the surfaces that weren’t covered with ingredients.  One wall was covered in notes and pictures about the hunters tacked up to the wall like a murder board from any crazed serial killer show. While Cham had been around helping keep things tidy when Blair was recovering from her injuries, the kitchen was still littered with take out boxes, and more coffee cups than Blair cared to count.  It had become a reflection of the swirling obsession that had started to take root in her brain. 

“These attacks don’t seem to have left you any worse for wear”

location: outside blair's apartment time: after blair has been through the ringer who: @whisperdreams-blair

Her heels click on the pavement as she walks toward her destination, the look of distaste unhidden on her face as she look at the building. It's simple enough to get into the entryway. Apartments tend to have loopholes that single-family homes don't, and she uses that to her advantage.

It took admittedly too long for Laure to learn that Blair had been one of the targets in the botched attack on Summerfest. Between what had happened at the Mausoleum and everything else people seemed to want to complain about these days, Laure was stretched thin, even before her extra-curricular activities. And there was the unpleasant stick in her chest that this is a connection that would never exist if she had not loved and lost as she had.

Her knuckles rap at the apartment door impatiently, setting a quick staccato rhythm that would be impossible for anyone inside to ignore. "I'm not leaving until I see your face," she adds, in case there was any confusion.