#Genuinely disappointed in all of the Riders for this

[sarnai4]

Gold...please?

I advocate for not raising up a character while bashing others...now, allow me to contradict myself. I think a turning point that helped make Dagur my favorite character was when Berk's gold was lost. I've complained to someone I know, but I want to complain here too, so please bear with me. Why on Earth did the Riders not tirelessly search for it? The gold got lost (which never should've happened in the first place, but that's not what this post is about). The only thing worse than that is how indifferent the others were. There were two episodes about the problems with this. Hiccup was nervous about being around Stoick as he should have been. Do you know what would've been a good way to say sorry? Getting the gold back. Then there was an episode where the trade routes were blocked. They literally showed a hungry child being happy over an apple. This somehow didn't give the Riders the kick in the rear they needed to really buckle down and find the gold. There was even a Gruffnut episode! Just to put things in perspective, there are 13 episodes in each season of RTTE. The gold was lost in the 12th episode of one season and found in the 8th of another. Wow. So much time to go without gold. Luckily, Dagur found it. I genuinely don't think Berk was ever going to get it back because even in that episode, it's not like the Riders were looking. They were relaxing at home. Then I have to laugh because Hiccup's busy rushing Dagur to tell them where the gold is. Excuse me, Sir, don't act like you care about the gold now. Where's this enthusiasm been for this entire season?

So, yeah, Dagur gets extra points for finding the gold. Remember too that he had no real stakes in this. If Berk goes without, Berserker Island is still okay. At that point, he wasn't necessarily buddy buddy with them yet. They were on the way, but I doubt they would've called him evil for not finding it. Still, Dagur got the gold for them and just wanted some of Viggo's. He even mentioned it to them to see if they'd be okay with it. He definitely didn't need to do that. He could've searched for the gold and taken all of it. We know Dagur used to be greedy as all get out, so it would've been a very pre-redemption thing to do. Fortunately for Berk, their new/old ally looks out for their best interest. Too bad their own Vikings don't.

[leclerc-hs]

save a bull! - cl16

pairing: bull rider!charles leclerc x fem!reader summary: in which a city girl meets a cowboy OR charles finds himself infatuated with the visiting city girl warnings: language, NOT PROOFREAD, no smut (maybe in part 2 if y'all want smut), bad writing (sorry lol) word count: ~4.4k author's note: HI. did you miss me? i sure as FUCK missed y'all. so I started writing this MONTHS ago but then took a very long break from this website and writing. it might be very shitty so i apologize for that. it was originally going to be just 1 part but I found myself writing so much that I think 2 parts will be better in the end. PLEASE REACH OUT TO ME WITH ANY FEEDBACK. sorry if this sucks. love you all.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

“Will you please just consider it!” Abigail pleads beside you on the sidewalk, weaving through the bustling crowd with an effortless grace. The sun casts dappled shadows on the pavement, and the scent of street food mingles with the crisp urban air.

The city feels particularly relentless as you trudge along the crowded sidewalk, your third cup of coffee from the corner deli clutched in one hand, its steam mingling with the bustling street air. Your shoulders droop under the weight of fatigue, a stark contrast to the frenetic energy of the city around you. Each step towards your office tower feels heavier, as though the concrete beneath your feet has turned to lead.

The tall buildings loom overhead, their steel and glass facades glinting under the midday sun, but their gleam only seems to amplify the oppressive weight of your exhaustion. The vibrant hum of the city���a symphony of honking taxis, chattering pedestrians, and distant sirens—becomes a monotonous drone.

Your dress, once crisp and sharp, now feels more like a burden, its fabric slightly rumpled from a day spent at your desk.

“I can’t take that much time off of work,” You say, your voice tinged with frustration but softened by a hint of regret. You’re caught in that all-too-familiar tug of war between professional obligations and personal desires. You finally get the chance to turn your head to look at Abigail as you reach a crosswalk, blinking not to cross. You see the disappointment flicker in your friend’s eyes.

“I get it,” Abigail says, her voice steady and tinged with understanding, “I know how demanding your job is. But that doesn’t mean you can’t work from home. Or take personal time. I know you have that option.”

You chuckle softly, admiring her persistence to some degree. “You’re persistent, I’ll give you that.”

“When is the last time you even took a personal day.”

The answer was never. But she didn’t need to know that.

“Will you stop begging me every second of every day if I say yes?” You ask, half in jest but with a trace of genuine curiosity.

“Obviously,” she replies, her smile widening as she sees the shift in your stance.

The pedestrian light turns green, and as you start to cross the street, you take a deep breath, blinking to steady your thoughts. “Fine.”

Abigail’s face lights up with a victorious grin, her eyes sparkling with triumph. “Really?”

“Yes.”

-

Nestled amidst rolling green hills and expansive grasslands, Abigail’s small family farm is a picturesque retreat. The scene unfolds like a charming pastoral painting, with vibrant hues of green and wheat fields stretching out as far as the eye can see, interspersed with splashes of color from blooming wildflowers.

At the heart of the farm stands a quaint, cozy house, its charm amplified by a wraparound porch adorned with potted flowers. The house itself is a delightful mix of rustic and charming, with its whitewashed clapboard siding, and a steeply pitched roof. 

Adjacent to the house, a well-tended vegetable garden thrives, it’s neat rows of tomatoes, lettuce, and peppers bordered by a low wooden fence. A couple of well-worn garden tools lean against a small shed nearby, evidence of the daily care given.

Further out, a classic red barn structure where a white trimmed roof sits atop. The sounds of clucking hens and the occasional bray of donkey create a lively atmosphere. Near the barn, sits a small paddock with a couple of playful horses, their sleek coats gleaming in the sunlight. 

The fresh air of the farm is almost a sensory overload compared to the city’s fumes. Unlike the city’s dense cocktail of exhaust fumes, asphalt, and various street food vendors, the farm air is pure.

As you sit at the kitchen table, the warmth of the farmhouse envelops you. The rustic charm of the kitchen, with its large wooden table and mismatched chairs, is filled with the sounds of cheerful conversation and shared laughter.

Abigail stands at the center of the room, animatedly catches her family up on the latest happenings in her city life. Her eyes sparkle with excitement, her gestures lively and expressive. The tales of the city hustle almost seem foreign in this serene setting. 

Danny and Luke, her two older brothers, sit across from you at the table. Danny, with his sandy blond hair and easy-going demeanor, leans back in his chair, his face lit up with a relaxed smile. He listens attentively, occasionally interjecting with teasing remarks or playful banter. His presence is warm and reassuring. His wife, Gianna, sits beside him with a small baby boy on her lap.

Luke, on the other hand, exudes a quiet strength. His dark hair is neatly tousled, and his gaze is both thoughtful and amused. His demeanor calm yet engaged.

“It’s so nice to finally meet the girl who makes our Abigail so happy in the city,” Abigail’s mother continues, her voice carrying a note of heartfelt sincerity. “She’s always spoken so highly of you.”

You feel a flush of warmth at the compliment, a mix of gratitude and slight nervousness at the attention all on you. 

“Thank you so much for having me,” You smile softly. “I don’t know what I would do without Abigail in my life.”

With a playful glint in Danny’s eye, he chimes in, “I do.”

The room erupts in a chorus of laughter, the sound ringing out with genuine warmth and affection.

You decided right there you may just like it here a lot more than you thought.

-

The silk dress that adorned your body was utterly unsuitable for the rugged rodeo environment, but you didn’t really care. The delicate fabric, with its soft sheen and flowing lines, clashed vividly with the dusty, rough-and-tumble atmosphere of the rodeo.

As you moved through the arena, the contrast became more pronounced. The silk, while beautiful, struggled against the elements—dust from the arena settling onto the fabric, and the occasional splash of beer threatening to leave their mark. The sight of your delicate dress among the crowd of rugged cowboys and cowgirls in their jeans, boots, and plaid shirts drew curious glances.

But you didn’t care. You liked your clothes, the luxurious feel of the silk against your skin, the way it draped with effortless grace. The expensive fabric was a statement of your personal taste, and you embraced it fully, regardless of the setting.

“You could’ve borrowed some jeans, you know?” Abigail chirps beside you, her jeans mostly ripped and worn matched well with her cowboy boots. 

You shrug your shoulders in a noncommittal way. “I’m going to head to the bathroom before this starts. Grab me a drink?” 

“Duh. See you at the seats?” Abigail laughs before sauntering off towards a beer vendor. 

You stand still for a moment, observing Abigail and her brothers joking around as they stroll across the lively rodeo grounds. You can’t help but smile at their playful banter, you didn’t have growing up.

As you watch, lost in the charm of the moment, a rough shoulder unexpectedly collides with yours. The sudden contact jolts you out of your reverie, and you turn to see a burly cowboy in worn jeans and a dusty plaid shirt. 

You swore he was one of the hottest men you’ve ever seen in your life until he opened his big fat mouth.

“You lost?” He laughs, his green eyes bright and mischievous as he adjusts the hat on his head.

“Excuse me?” You reply, a mix of confusion and irritation threading through your voice.

“The city is a long way from here,” He drawls, the smirk on his lips widening with a hint of amusement.

The combination of his cheeky grin , the twinkle in his eye, and the dismissive tone ignites a flicker of anger within you. It feels like a mix of condescension and teasing that sends a sharp heat coursing through your veins. You roll your eyes, unable to hide your annoyance.

“Thanks for the information, jackass,” You snap, shoving past him with a forceful nudge. You march away with purpose, the silk of your dress swishing around your legs with each determined step.

Unbeknownst to you, as you walk away, he can’t help but turn his head to watch the sway of your hips in the thin, delicate fabric. His gaze lingers for a moment longer than necessary, a mixture of surprise and lingering admiration in his eyes as he takes in your retreating figure.

A hand lands firmly on his shoulder, and a voice calls out, “C’mon Charles, you need to get changed.” The words cut through his moment of distraction.

With a slight jolt, he snaps back to reality and glances over, meeting the eyes of his friend who is already gesturing towards the changing area. Reluctantly, he shifts his focus and starts to follow, his gaze now shifting into a more focused, practical demeanor.

-

Finally settled into your seat, far too close to the metal fence for your liking, and smothered between Abigail and Luke, you feel yourself relax as Luke places a tall boy can of beer in your hand, the wet condensation soaking your hand. 

“Hope you can handle a beer,” Luke states, a smile on his lips. “It’s all they had left.”

You bring the can of beer to your lips slowly, savoring the crisp, cool sensation as you take a smooth sip. With a playful glint in your eye, you send a wink in Luke’s direction. “I promise I can handle a beer,” you say with a teasing smile.

Luke’s eyes crinkle at the corners with amusement, and he lets out a hearty chuckle. He lifts his own beer in a casual salute, the gesture accompanied by a nod of approval. As he takes a sip, the cool amber liquid reflecting the warm light of the evening, he meets your gaze with a grin that mirrors your playful confidence.

“So how does this work?” You ask, turning your full attention to Luke while Abigail and Danny are engrossed in their own conversation on the other side of you.

Luke raises an eyebrow in curiosity. “How does what work?” 

You gesture broadly with your hands, waving them in animated circles as you take in the bustling rodeo arena before you. “This,” you say, trying to encompass the entire scene with your sweeping motions.

As if gaining a sense of clarity, the corners of Luke’s lips tug upward. “Why don’t you just watch and find out? It’s about to start.”

You turn your head back to the dirt ring, feeling the adrenaline of the moment as you witness a big brown bull in the chute. Its snorts are visible through the gaps in the metal fences, each exhalation a cloud of steam in the crisp air.

A handsome cowboy, his broad shoulders accentuated by a fitted vest, mounts the bull with practiced ease. He glances up with a confident, almost cocky grin that makes your heart race even faster. Your gaze follows every move he makes, captivated by the way he balances on the bull’s massive back as the gate swings open.

The bull bursts into action, hooves flying and muscles rippling as it twists and bucks in an attempt to throw the rider off. The scene is a whirlwind of motion and raw power—an exhilarating display of skill and bravery. It’s almost surreal, the sheer intensity of the bull’s movements and the cowboy’s unflinching composure.

As the bull spins in tight circle, you glance over to the timer mounted on the fence. The seconds tick away, each moment bringing the eight-second mark closer. When the buzzer finally sounds, signaling the end of the ride, the cowboy springs off the bull with an effortless grace. He tosses a hand in the air, his expression nonchalant as if the wild ride was nothing more than a casual stroll.

The crowd erupts in cheers and applause, their excitement palpable as they all stand up with shouts.

You turn your head back towards Luke, one of the biggest smiles on your face as you meet his eyes in pure astonishment. 

“How about it?” Luke chimes in, taking yet another chug of his beer.

“This is insane!” You take another sip as well.

-

Charles lived for bull riding. It was more than just a passion—it was his livelihood. The cowboy lifestyle, with its raw, untamed essence, had shaped almost every aspect of his existence. 

To him, the bull was not just an animal but a formidable partner in a high-stakes dance of power and control. Two things Charles always loved to have. Every successful ride was a testament to his skill and courage, a dance with danger that left him both exhilarated and humbled. Like this ride. Right now.

He throws his hand in the air, the rush of pure adrenaline coursing through his veins. The feel of the dirt beneath his boots, the deafening roar of the crowd, and an impressive score of 91, was enough to send him shouting in joy. He let his eyes wander the crowd around him, taking it all in like he always loves to do. He livesfor the attention.

So, when he notices a familiar woman seated right before the metal fence, paying little to no attention to the dirt ring, he can’t help but feel just a little annoyed.

He also can’t help but feel more annoyed when he takes notice of that silk fabric again, immediately remembering when he bumped into your frame mere moments ago. Your cherry lips and silky-smooth hair flash into his mind. For a second, he almost forgets the fact that he’s standing in the middle of a dirt ring.

He can’t quite shake the memory of your demeanor and the way you seemed detached from the rodeo’s thrilling chaos. The way you could care less about who he was. It’s a curious juxtaposition against the fervor of the crowd and the adrenaline that still courses through him.

One thing about Charles was that he wanted attention, yes. But right now, he only wanted yours. With that unshakable desire in mind, he strides confidently toward where you’re seated. The metal fences between you both form a barrier, but that doesn’t deter him.

As he approaches, the crowd senses a shift in the energy and falls into an anticipatory hush. Their collective gaze shifts to you and Charles, creating a palpable focus on the interaction.

Charles, his presence commanding and confident, slips his hat through the gap in the metal fence, offering it to you with a smirk. The hat, wide brimmed and well worn, represents a piece of his world.

“To help you fit in better.” His tone a mix of challenge and amusement.

Without waiting for a response, he turns on his heel and finally saunters off, his gait relaxed yet purposeful. 

-

“What just happened?” Abigail smacks your arm, the one not jolding the hat, as you walk side by side. Her brothers loom behind you, their presence adding to the charged atmosphere of the moment. “Why did Charles fucking Leclerc just give you, his hat?”

You glance at the hat, a bemused expression on your face. “That guy is a total dick is what just happened.”

Abigail’s eyes widen, her excitement barely contained. “What do you mean!” She practically shouts, her voice a mix of disbelief and thrill. “He’s like famous here. Every girl probably hates you right now.”

“Why?” You ask, genuinely puzzled.

“Are you blind?” Abigail’s voice now full sheer joy. “The dude is practically sex on fucking legs. And he’s one of the best bull riders around!”

You look back at the hat again, it suddenly feels heavier in the grasp of your fingertips. “Charles Leclerc is a big deal around here. And he just gave you, his hat. That’s a huge deal.”

You roll your eyes, trying to ignore the slight flush of embarrassment creeping up your neck. “Well, it doesn’t change the fact that he was a jackass earlier. But I guess it’s good to know he’s a big deal around here.”

Abigail bursts into laughter. “You really are something else.”

-

The narrow aisles of the tiny market, with their cramped and cluttered shelves, had you aimlessly strolling in circles. The items on your list—given to you by Abigail’s mom—seemed to elude your every turn. The overhead lights cast a harsh glare on the disorganized assortment of product, making it difficult to find what you needed. You stood there, your eyes narrowing in annoyance, at the crumpled list clutched in your hand.

“Need some help, sweetheart?”

The sound of the deep, velvety voice was enough to draw your attention away from the list. You turned to see Charles standing not even a few feet away, a smirk playing on his lips as he leaned casually against a shelf. His eyes, green as ever, created a swirl of butterflies in the pit of your stomach.

Although you were known for your stubbornness, often digging your heels in even when it wasn’t your best interest, you had to admit you were out of your depth in the tiny market. There were no signs. No directory.

“Depends,” you reply, the hint of a playful challenge in your voice. Charles raises his eyebrows, a silent prompt for you to elaborate further.

“If you call me city girl even once,” you continue, your tone firm but light-hearted, “I’ll knock you right out.”

The challenge is met with a shit-eating grin, so wide on Charles’s face that it seems almost infectious. His cheeks stretch into an exuberant smile, his eyes sparkling with amusement. And it takes him one step, and one stretch of his arm, to snag that grocery list right out of your dainty fingertips.

-

“You’re cute when you’re real mad, y’know?” He drawls, placing the groceries into the bed of the pick-up truck you borrowed from Abigail’s family.

“I’m not mad.”

“You’re right.” He says, placing the final bag into the truck and leaning against the frame of it with an arm propped up. “You’re just cute.”

“Don’t call me that.”

Charles doesn’t miss the subtle flush the tints the apples of your cheeks with a delicate shade of red. The reaction stirs a flutter in his chest, almost like an addiction that he never wants to stop. 

You’re undeniably cute, with an effortlessly enchanting beauty that makes it difficult to look away. A magnetic pull that Charles just can’t shake. It’s almost as if he’s addicted to getting a reaction out of you. 

-

It’s been days of settling into the rhythm of farm life—enjoying family dinners filmed with hearty laughter and home-cooked meals, gathering around late-night fires that crackle and warm against the cool night air, and rolling up your sleeves to help with daily chores.

Even had a few more run-in's with the famous bull riding man himself. He was sweet, but you couldn't help but feel at complete unease around him. Not in a bad way, but in a my heart won't stop pounding against my rib cage kind of way.

Like when he covered you in his flannel at the latest bonfire, taming the rising goosebumps along your body.

"I don't need this, y'know?"

"Sweetheart, you're cold. Just wear the damn thing."

Or when you bumped into him at one of the farmer's markets and it took no hesitation for him to grab all of your purchases out from under your arm.

"What are you doing?"

"What does it look like I'm doin?"

"Stealing my stuff"

His laugh shot butterflies right into your stomach. "You're something else, sweetheart."

You make a point to be as involved as possible, driven by the genuine desire to contribute and make a sense of responsibility. 

“Should we hit up Rusty Spur’s tonight?” Abigail asks from beside you, her voice light and relaxed as she stands wrapped in a fluffy robe, freshly showered. She’s casually brushing her long, damp hair, the strands falling in soft waves around her shoulders.

“What’s Rusty Spur’s” you ask, leaning over the bathroom sink for a closer look as you apply your last coat of mascara, adding the finishing touch to your makeup.

“The bar,” she replies nonchalantly, her tone suggesting it’s a place she frequents often. “I think we need a night out.”

You glance at her through the mirror, a smile spreading across your face at the prospect of a night out. 

“Yes.”

-

Rusty Spur’s was the kind of country bar that instantly feels like home, even if you’ve never been there before.

As you step inside, the scent of aged wood, spilled beer, and a hint of smoky warmth greets you. The place is packed. 

The flimsy spaghetti straps of your short white dress dig into the skin of your shoulders, their delicate fabric offering little support. Despite its ethereal look, the dress feels unexpectedly snug against your skin. The soft white fabric sways with each step you take as you slip your body in between the crowds of people.

Abigail leads you to a cozy corner of the bar. Almost instantly, a bartender approaches, his familiarity with Abigail evident in the easy smile and warm greeting he offers.

You can’t help but notice just how easy on the eyes he is. He’s dressed, like almost every guy in this bar, in snug jeans and a flannel shirt with the sleeves rolled up, revealing strong forearms. His casual yet confident demeanor, coupled with the slight scruff on his beard and his easygoing smile, makes him stand out in the dimly lit bar. 

Within the span of five minutes, a chilled, neck-bottled beer is placed gently into your hand. Taking in the view of the crowd, which is large but not overwhelmingly so, you scan the faces around you. As your gaze moves across the room, no one stands out as particularly familiar—until your eyes land on a table not too far away.

There, seated with a group of friends, is Charles. His presence is unmistakable. Even from a distance, he exudes a charismatic confidence, the kind that draws attention without even trying. He’s relaxed in his posture, laughing and engaging with his companions, the flannel from earlier now swapped for a casual shirt. 

“Wanna dance?” Abigail chimes in your ear, her beer already half gone in the span of a minute.

-

It was almost as if Charles could feel your presence without even seeing you. The dim light of the bar cast flickering shadows. He leaned back against the worn leather of his chair, his senses heightened.

You found yourself completely immersed in the music, your body moving almost involuntary as your shoes glide smoothly across the weathered wooden floor. You’re not exactly sure when it happened, but your body eventually became pressed up against a random guy you’ve only just met on the dance floor. His presence both surprising and pleasant. He’s cute—definitely cute. His hands are gentle on your waist, guiding you through the steps with a natural rhythm. 

He twirls you effortlessly around, guiding your movement with a deft touch that brings a burst of joy. As you complete the spin, you find yourself facing him once more, his eyes twinkling down at you.

With a playful flourish, he slips his cowboy hat onto your head. You can feel the subtle press of the brim against your forehead, much too big for your head. You tilt your head back and laugh, the sound a melodic blend of joy and unrestrained happiness woven into the music. 

In this embrace, everything seems to align perfectly—the rhythm of the music, the warmth of the body, and the whimsical charm of the cowboy hat resting lightly atop your head.

“Do you want t-” The words began to leave the man’s lips, but they were abruptly cut off as a firm muscled arm shoved him away from your embrace. The unexpected force sent him stumbling back, surprise flashing across his face and yours.

The man recovered his footing, confusion turning into indignation as he glared at the one who interrupted. Charles. Meanwhile, you stood your ground, heart racing, caught between the thrill of the moment and unexpected clash.

If looks could kill.

“Dude, what the fuck?”

Large fingers reach for the brim of the hat atop your head, snatching it right off before Charles shoves it back into the man’s chest. “Don’t ever put a hat on her head again.” 

His voice was rough and terse, cutting through the ambient noise like a blade. “Let’s go,” He says, not giving the man or you a chance to react. In an instant, his fingers snake around your wrist, pulling you away from the dance floor and into the shadows of a secluded table ticked into the corner of the bar.

The abrupt shift caught you off guard, and your heart raced as he led you through the sea of bodies. The air between you was thick with unspoken words as he tucks you between him and the edge of the table. His grip on your wrist loosens, but his proximity is too close.

“What the hell was that?” Your senses heightened as your eyes locked onto his. The usual light green of his irises, often warm and inviting, was now obscured by a much darker hue, swirling with intensity and something primal. 

His gaze was pointed, sharp, and unyielding. You sensed a storm brewing behind those darkened eyes, and the air around you crackled with anticipation. 

“He put his hat on you, sweetheart.” You scoff almost instantly, bubbling anger simmers in your chest as you let out a soft laugh over the situation.

“Really?” You throw your head back for a mere second as the laugh pushes past your throat. “You shoved him over a hat?”

His eyes remain narrowed, the amusement that might have danced there moments ago, no longer present. “Do you even know what that means?” He presses, his voice low and intense as he leans into your ear, the weight of his words hanging between you.

“What a hat means?” Confusion flickers across your features. The question so out of place, and yet the gravity of his tone suggests otherwise.

Before you can grasp the implications, you felt his fingers sneak their way to you, warmth and firmness splayed along your waist. The contact sent a jolt of awareness through you, igniting the tension the crackled in the air. It was a possessive gesture. 

His gaze never wavers, and the connection between you deepens.

“You wear that hat; you ride that cowboy.”

For a moment, you freeze. 

“And in no fucking world, would I let you wear anyone’s but mine.”

[sourb0i]

Just got out of Beetlejuice 2! I'd give it a 4/10 overall

Pros:

All the original actors (Michael Keaton, Catherine O'Hara etc, Wynona Rider) reprised their roles really well; Catherine O'Hara in particular

The relationship between Lydia and Delia was nice; I enjoyed the whole 'you did it to me, now it's happening to you' between Celia, Lydia, and Astrid

Practical effects were good; honestly it was just refreshing to have any at all. I especially liked Charles' shark-bite effect

There were some genuinely funny parts, especially the (first part of) the wedding musical number

I thought Dolores was interesting as an antagonist, and I liked her character design (though I have gripes- see below)

Cons

The vibe just wasn't there. The plot didn't really feel committed to any one thing, and when the movie ended my first thought was "what the fuck was that about?"

There were also a lot of plot holes-- or at least, worldbuilding holes. Why was Beetlejuice working in the Afterlife office? Why is there a crime unit (and laundromat)? Why couldn't Lydia see her dead husband, even though he said he "checked up on [her and Astrid]" periodically?

I am honestly really pissed about how Barbara and Adam were written off. Obviously they can't have the original actors reprising their roles, but they deserved a better ending than a hand-waved one liner.

While Dolores had a lot of potential as an antagonist, she wasn't given nearly enough character. Her only lines (as far as I can remember) were "Where's Beetlejuice". Why is she so obsessed with him? What does she hope to gain by reuniting with him? What's the deal with her soul-sucking quest for immortality? So much wasted potential

The same was true of...the Murderous Boyfriend Who Was Such a Non-Character That I Forgot His Name As Soon As He Said it.

Seriously. They could've set up a great plot twist if they'd given him more character/more set-up with the parents. Instead the guy was a walking red flag.

I also wasn't a huge fan of Astrid's character. Like they set her up to be this girl who is ostracized bc of her mom (fair), but then instead of leaning into that they made her into this Gen Z Feminist/Eco-Warrior archetype, and it just felt like the writers were trying to make fun of that instead of actually making her into a whole person. Like, ok, she knows who Marie Curie is (even tho she got the nationality wrong), but what does she do for fun? What kind of music does she like? Does she have any hobbies outside of activism?

While I enjoyed some of the musical numbers (the wedding, and the soul train particularly) on their own merits, they just felt really out of place. The original had a solid musical theme, but this felt all over the place

Also! I wish we'd gotten to see more of Lydia interacting with ghosts in her day-to-day life! That seems like something that could be really traumatic and/or played up for comedic purposes. I loved the gag with her and the other actress in the bathroom! Give me more of that!

Overall, the movie felt like it didn't really know what to do with itself. There were so many out-of-place cameos (Burn Goreman, I'm looking at you), and stylistically and thematically it never really felt committed to one thing. It was an empty movie with nothing to say, and that's really disappointing, because it had a lot of potential to be something fun.

(Also. Produced by Brad Pitt?????)

[lazystar]

The Long Way Home

Choi San x Fem!Reader

WC: ~ 6.5K

Warnings/Content Notes: 18+ !!! MDNI!!! SMUT, BDSM Dynamics, Dom!San, Sub!Reader, BFFS -> FWB -> Lovers. ANGST! Cursing, Alcohol Consumption, Jungkook at the scene of the crime, Jokes about divorce. Smut warnings after the cut.

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A/N if you enjoy reading this please consider reblogging and leaving a comment ty it genuinely means a lot to me to see y’all’s reactions to my work :)

SMUT Warnings: BDSM Dynamic, Dacryphilia, Impact Play, Bondage, Choking, PIV Sex (no mention of protection remember to wrap it up y’all), Fingering (F Rec), Degradation.

The Long Way Home

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Tequila was the worst invention known to man. Your pounding head and naked body declared this thought as you gazed over to the man in the bed beside you. Some jock you couldn’t even recall the name of. He was some fucking guy, maybe his name was something basic like Matthew? If he asked you his name you would’ve blanked and probably said some random name like John. His snores made your head sting with a headache as you tried to recall how you ended up nude and having to do yet another walk of shame.

The memory hit you as you shrugged on one of your one night stand’s hoodies and your jeans. The walk of shame uniform, some random guy’s clothes paired with your own you sighed to yourself.

The bright lights, booming bass, jungle juice, and losing your best friend in the crowd as you both flirted with the many attractive people at the party. It was just a local affair. Crawling with the washed up twenty somethings that all resided in rather small city you called home. All of them regularly relived the glory days of raucous partying and drinking away the stressors of everyday life, you and your best friend and roommate wee no exception to this.

It was cheaper than a bar and honestly more fun. Mr. Anonymous was one of the hosts and putting on his best Flynn Rider-esque smolder as you batted your false lashes and giggled like a fool. You were about to “oh my god you’re so funny” your way into some good sex. Or so you thought, except you recalled on your walk to your apartment that the guy didn’t even last five minutes and you didn’t even cum. It wasn’t even hook up yelp review worthy.

You barged into you and your best friend San’s shared apartment with a loud huff slamming your keys onto the entryway table. Not even looking up from his phone San let out a laugh, “Who the fuck pissed in your cheerios bun?” Bun had been your long time nickname from San due to your shorter stature and constant habit of twitching your nose when annoyed.

“Well Mr. Mountain Flynn Rider guy didn’t even last ten minutes and I was left disappointed AGAIN!!!” You wailed as you flopped beside him onto your lumpy couch. “Like I get it, I take a while to finish but he couldn’t at least help me?! Where is the fucking decorum in hookups these days.” He lets out a loud laugh at your rant and then suddenly stopped, he looked over at you like he just discovered the secret to time travel. Eyes wide and brows raised, his mouth was agape with a smile.

“I just got the best idea! Why don’t we just start hooking up. We talk enough about our sex lives since we’re so close, we know what the other likes. Why not just fuck?” He says his grin now a smirk, he waggled his brows and nudged you with his elbow.

“Did you smoke something? Are you high? Are you unwell? That’s a fucking terrible idea! Like holy shit that’s an insanely bad idea! One of us could catch feelings, someone could get hurt, it would be a mess. Have you seen any movies where that works out?” You exclaim. Your hands were thrown in the air and you began to consider smacking San upside the head in hopes you could help him create some new braincells for some cognizant thoughts. He just shrugged your way and continued on with his master plan.

“Bun, honey. Think about how much easier and safer it would be. No walks of shame, we’d get tested first obviously, I wouldn’t fuck anyone else so we both stay safe, and come on. I know how you like it.” His voice grew almost husky as he looked deep into your eyes. The change in his energy made you squirm and you couldn’t help but think how hot he looked. You had eyes, you knew your best friend of over ten years was hot with his dark eyes and muscles that practically bulged out of his tight shirts.

“Fuck it. Show me what you got.” And with that his lips crashed onto yours, his hand laced into your hair tugging on the roots just hard enough to make you whine into the kiss.

“Oh Bunny I’m gonna ruin you.”

“I’d like to see you try Sannie.” He quickly knocked the smirk off your face with his hand wrapping around your neck, he squeezed a bit and gave you a glare.

“You shouldn’t have said that.” Your underwear was soaked as you gazed at him with wide eyes and a moan fell from your lips as he chuckled darkly. He quickly tugged the hoodie off of you and smirked down at you, noticing your lack of a bra. “Fuck your tits are so gorgeous, look at you. You look pathetic all needy for me.”

“ ‘M not pathetic.” You whined. His hand that was around your throat previously gripped your jaw squeezing your cheeks.

“Yes you are, I bet you’re all soaked and your little pussy is begging for me to fuck you. But sweetheart, you didn’t earn it did you? Back talking, sassing me, telling me that fucking me was a horrible idea. Such a dumb little bunny under me. I should just leave you right here all worked up.” You felt out of control as you shook your head no, ten minutes ago you would have never thought of yourself having any sexual relationship with San. But here you were silently pleading for him to fuck you stupid. He watched with glee as your eyes began to water and you began to beg for him to touch you, for him to play with you like a doll. He had you where he wanted you, needy, lust filled, and wanting only him.

“Sannie please! I want you! I need you! I’m gonna fucking lose it if you don’t do something.” Your voice was whiny and you sounded on the verge of tears as your roommate simply smirked at you.

“You have ten seconds to strip and get on my bed, You know how I’ll wanna see you waiting for me.” You bolted, shoving your jeans down and kicking them off, then your panties as you scurried to his room. You practically leapt onto his bed and got right into his favorite position; kneeling on his bed, hands on your knees, head held high, not moving a muscle.

San during your rendezvous rundowns had divulged his preference for BDSM encounters rather than vanilla ones. His stories had you internally squirming when you two discussed your sexual encounters. You hadn’t really had experience with kinky sex like San did. He’d visit BDSM clubs, done his online research, met up with some subs once or twice as he learned more about his dominant side. He told you about how he loved when some of his submissive partners would cry as he would play with them, using impact toys, vibrators, ball gags, collars. He was a rigger, he explained one time, loving using intricate knots and ties with rope to create, as he put it, “the perfect present for myself”. He loved seeing how his other partners would plead to touch him as he fucked them into delirium.

Now here you were, about to get fucked into that same delirious state. San strolled into the room and leaned against the doorway as you kept your pose. He loved seeing you following his unspoken orders. But he knew as a good dominant he had to make sure you were comfortable with him. “Y/N before I do anything I want to know your limits, what are you comfortable with? I know you like choking and hair pulling, some spanking, some spit play. But is there anything you don’t want me to do to you?” You blushed at his consideration, you knew he was going to do this but seeing his concerned eyes and soft smile your way had you feeling butterflies in your stomach.

“Ummm, no face slapping, just hands being tied or bound is okay, I wanna be able to see you, and um, just don’t go too crazy. Oh and don’t call me a bitch I’ll kick you.” You nodded, your last sentence elicited a chuckle from San as he shook his head walking over to you.

“So you’re okay if I for example say, hmmmm. Y/N you’re being such a good little whore for me. Getting right how I wanted you and answering my questions like an obedient little slut.” His brow quirked and he tilted his head. He didn’t show it but he was reeling watching the shy flush on your cheeks and how you tried to rub your thighs together to feel some friction.

“Yes Sir, that's okay with me.” You nodded, quietly appraising his reaction to the title. A growl erupted from him as he manhandled you onto your back and spread your legs wide.

“Oh Bunny, Sir’s gonna make you fucking scream.” With that promise he pulled you into a searing kiss as he began to push his fingers inside you and quickly locate the spot that made you cry out in pleasure. He watched as you threw your head back and moaned, his fingers grew faster as you began to squirm. He wasn’t even fingering you for that long, maybe a few minutes but he had you on the brink of your first orgasm. “Aww is Bunny gonna cum already? Uh uh, not yet baby, you gotta beg for it.” You cried out in frustration as he pulled his fingers out and slowly began to circle your sensitive clit.

“Please sir, please let me cum. I fucking need it. I’ll be so good, I’ll do anything. Please let me cum and make a mess for you.” Tears cascaded down your cheeks as you begged for him to let you cum. You felt like you were going to squirt all over the sheets as he toyed with you. He smirked and roughly shoved two of his fingers back in you and jackhammered them right at your g-spot. The slick sounds of how wet you were along with your moans and panting breaths were all San heard. He bent down and kissed at your neck has he slowed his fingers down for a moment and made a come hither motion with them, the attention on your g-spot had you falling into a state of euphoric delirium, you couldn’t even think a coherent thought as you moaned out his title over and over again.

“Fucking cum for me Bunny. I wanna see what a messy little slut you are for me.” He whispered into your ear, the kiss on your lips that followed sent you over the edge, his fingers quickened as he leaned back up to watch your orgasm splash against his palm and your body thrash about, he watches as your eyes rolled back into your head and your back arched as he continued the onslaught on your overly sensitive pussy. Your cries of relief and his name had him on cloud nine, this is what he had wished for. He had wanted you in his bed more than anything when he would hear your hookup stories. He wanted to make you cum over and over again, to hear you moan his name has he pounded into your wet cunt. Now here you were coming undone all over his sheets and whining as he overstimulated you.

“Sannie I cant take any more too sensitive.” You whined and he stopped immediately. He laid beside you and pulled you into his arms, rubbing yours and whispering praises into your sweat soaked hairline. Your head lulled onto his shoulder and you snuggled into his body heat feeling safe and relaxed as you synced your breathing with his.

“You were so good for me Bunny, you did so good. How do you feel? Do you need me to clean you up and get you some water?” You nodded and he went into the bathroom and grabbed a damp washcloth and gently cleaned up the mess between your legs. After, he grabbed you a glass of water and helped you drink as he kept on praising how well you took your first time with him. “So what do you say? Want to keep doing this?” You nodded aggressively and he let out a light laugh as he kissed your forehead. “Only time we’ll have rules is in the bedroom okay, no need for those dumb ass contracts or whatever shit they do in those girly movies you like. It’s still us being us except I eat you out and boss you around in bed.” You let out your own laugh and statement of agreement. He made it all so casual and comfortable. Any worries you had fell to the wayside as you found yourself under him once again, his hands in your hair and yours cupping his cheeks as giggles made their home in between each kiss.

You fell into an easy routine that was just you two being Mountain and Bun, except now you often are sleeping beside one another sticky from sweat and he’s made you cum several times. It felt right, like you two had been destined for something more than friends.

Soon enough the kisses and physical affection transferred from the walls of your apartment to out in public. Your friends noticed the possessive hand around your waist and glares San would give at any man who would look for a tad too long at you on nights out at the bars and clubs in the city. But when asked if something was going on between you two, San would lead the way with denying anything more than friendship. This lead to a routine of you both denying anything serious was going on, much to everyone’s disbelief as it was clear as day you two were more than friends.

It was an unspoken rule to deny a connection between you two when asked, but a spoken one to only sleep with one another. You two were just friends, friends who kissed, cuddled, and slept together. Friends with benefits, nothing beyond that. Right?

But, something beyond San tying you up and regularly making you cum up to ten times a scene was going on. Stolen kisses, cuddles under the glow of the tv, and nights ending in romantic passionate sex were growing more and more common. Mornings where you would find yourself wrapped around him as he cooked you breakfast, lazy days spent in his favorite hoodies, nights where you laid by his side and played with his fingers as you compared the size of his hands to yours. It was more than just lust.

You knew you were down bad, but you had no one to explain it to. There was no rule against being open about sleeping together but you both seemed to agree silently on keeping it just between you two. The pair of you seemed to just keep it under wraps to avoid your friend’s questions or comments. But avoiding it all was becoming too much, it was driving you insane. It was making you feel used and discarded even if he was treating you so well, you just wanted him to say something so you knew he wasn’t just using you.

Fall came, leaves crashed against the sidewalks and your feelings began to chill like the air outside. It was another night out for you, San, and your seven other friends, this time in a crowded club with booming bass, sultry air, and many other drunk people looking for a good time. You and San were dancing on one another with him subtly peppering kisses on your neck as your hips swayed against his. After a while you pulled away shouting you were grabbing another drink.

At the bar a tall, tattooed man saddled up beside you. His eyes danced along your figure admiring the short dress adorning your frame. His lip rings emphasized his sultry smirk as he offered to buy you a drink. “The name’s Jungkook. I’ll buy you a drink, but in exchange grant me once dance.” You were charmed by his attitude and agreed. Your hands soon found their way around his neck as his grip met your waist. The heavy beat of the R&B of the club and the lust filled air around you two pushed San from your mind as the tall man had stolen your attention.

“Gorgeous I don’t think your boyfriend is too happy you’re dancing on me like this.” The raven haired male said into your ear as you both swayed to the beat. His strong grip on your waist was anchoring you to the moment. The liquor swirled your brain as all of your inhibitions began to throw themselves aside. Your attention was brought back to San, you could feel his angry laser like stare on your back as you danced with Jungkook. Why was he mad? It’s not like he would openly say anything about you being off limits anyways.

“He’s not my boyfriend, just my roommate. We hook up but it’s nothing serious.” You reply back loud enough to be heard over the music.

“So he won’t keep staring at me like he wants to murder me if I kiss you?”

“He can be mad he doesn’t get a say in who I kiss.” You snark back and Jungkook pulls you into a kiss, his hands snaking down to grab your ass over your short skirt and your hands reaching into his flowing locks. Before things could get too heated you felt a hand grabbing your arm and pulling you away. “WHAT THE FUCK LET ME GO!” Your disagreement went unanswered as San dragged into a hallway away from prying eyes.

“Y/N what the actual fuck was that? Were you trying to make me jealous?! Well congratulations it fucking worked. You’re mine, nobody else’s. I thought you knew that.” His voice was filled with anger and his tone was almost like a snarl. You shivered and felt the familiar feeling of your head beginning to float at his authoritative behavior.

“Sannie, you never said we were anything more than friends with benefits. How was I supposed to know I wasn’t supposed to kiss other boys, I wouldn’t fuck them but I can’t kiss em?” Your tone was playful but also clearly annoyed at his power play when he wasn’t your boyfriend. He was the guy you lived with and fucked, not the guy telling you he loves you and wants to spend his life with you.

He had no power over you when it came to expanding your horizons while being single.

“No Y/N you’re mine.” San’s glare began to anger you. He can’t say shit like that then not say you two were a couple.

“No San. I’m not fucking yours, matter of fact I’m never going to be ‘yours’. You can have someone else in your bed, sharing a place with you, and being your plaything. I’m done with the games and the back and forth on what I am to you. I’m so done with you. If you have any once of respect for me you’ll do me a favor leave me the fuck alone.” You stormed away before he could even make a move to try and save the shreds of your relationship. You walked as fast as you could to find your friend group. With your head hung low and as quiet of a voice as you could muster in the loud club you told your friends, Hongjoong, Yunho, Minho, Seonghwa, Jongho, Yeosang, and Wooyong that you were not going to be able to go participate in your regular hang out nights anymore, your only explanation being you and San weren’t on good terms and you didn’t know if your friendship would be good again.

The guys didn’t see or hear the exchange but they saw the angry tears running down your cheeks that you had been trying to hide and knew that the situation was not good in the slightest. They watched you angrily wipe at your mascara stained cheeks and march off. They were worried for you. They saw San off in the hallway he had pulled you to, his head was pressed to the wall as sobs wracked his body. His fist was hammering the wall as he appeared to be cursing himself for what went down. The boys felt like children caught in the middle of their parents fighting and it had them all feeling a major sense of unease.

You spilled the beans a few days later to Yeosang, Wooyong, and Seonghwa when they came to check on you while you were staying on your friend Winter’s couch. She was helping you navigate moving out and moving on from the boy you had been hurt by. She knew the whole story and comforted you as you told the three boys about everything, well not all the sexual things after you got into a little bit about it and they looked ready to send you off to a convent. The boys were angry for you they understood that you felt played and that your feelings seemed to be disregarded, but they also understood that San was not the best when it came to emotional vulnerability or communication. They wanted you to open the door to him to try and repair things. But you were insistent on never speaking to San again due to how hurt you were. You couldn’t bear looking him in the eyes knowing you had been a toy to him. That he wanted to have all the aspects of dating you, but wouldn’t even admit he was sleeping with you. Was he embarrassed with you? Were you not enough? Your mind would spiral every night as you laid on Winter’s couch questioning your value to San, your friendship as a whole, your own sense of self. You picked yourself apart to the atom, finding more and more reasons to wonder what it was that made San begin the denial of your relationship when asked about you.

They helped you pack your things when San was at work and within the hours of his shift any trace of you was gone. Your new apartment was only a few blocks away with San none the wiser. When he came home to see every trace of the years you’d shared by his side gone, his heart was crushed like a hammer was hitting him square in the chest. The end of September was now San’s least favorite time of year, because it’ll forever mark when he lost to you due to his own stupidity.

Days without either of you speaking turned into weeks, then months. The cold gray winter had come in to chill your bones and steal your breath. It turned your cold heart to ice as you began to move on from the beautiful boy you had fallen for. It was as if the past few years never existed. Like the way you slept for months in his bed was an illusion. It was a fog, always a fog. Until those cold nights called for another body to join you in bed. Nobody else was good enough, it had to be him. The man who had you Pavloved into orgasming to the sound of his voice, the man who made your mind melt. San, Choi San was the only one for you.

San was no better off, cold nights yearning for your touch. Your voice haunting every time he had to rub one out. “Please Sir, please let Bunny cum! I-I’ve been so fucking good for you please!” one of his favorite memories. He could always remember every aspect of that night. He had been practicing some new Shibari tie methods and had you bound into the perfect present, intricate knots holding your breasts in place, your pussy exposed with your hands bound to your legs so you were immobile. You looked delectable with those pleading yet wild eyes, drool leaking from your mouth, and makeup running down your face. You looked practically angelic to him as he watched your eyes roll back into your head as he bullied his cock into you over and over, he recalled how with a whispered “such a good girl for me, yes you can cum.” the scream that flew from your lips as your eyes rolled back, the gush of your orgasm around him and how your pussy milked him dry. He remembered how you looked at him with such loving eyes as he took care of you and how you would let him lay on your bust as you kissed his forehead and assured him he wasn’t too rough with you. He remembered that while you slept he uttered “I love you” while he looked at you.

But he couldn’t get to make memories like that again, not until you’d let him speak to you, not until he could fucking find you that is. And most definitely, not if you have a new boyfriend or someone he can’t compete with for your heart.

While the two of you were pining for the other like a high school production of Romeo and Juliet the rest of the friends you and San shared were extremely annoyed by the way you two were acting like a divorced couple.

“I’m team Mom aka Y/N here but I don’t wanna deal with who has custody of us at Christmas being an issue. They need to kiss and make up” Yeosang declared while sitting with the others at lunch. They had planned a lunch to plan the intervention because as much as they didn’t want to admit it they would rather be annoyed by you two being romantic or possibly walk in on you two, than have to deal with the split custody issue. Thus the “Stop the Divorce” squad was put into action. They wanted you both happy and most importantly back together.

Soon enough their plan to get you two to hash shit out was put into action, Hongjoong the unofficial leader of the group sent San and you separate texts asking to meet up at his recording studio space to hang out. You arrived first, you had made yourself at home on the sofa and then about five minutes later San was walking into the room. “Oh fuck no, I’m not doing this.” You exclaim, grab your things, and make your way to the door to leave. It’s San who surprisingly makes the move to block your way out. Hongjoong and the others maneuvered to exit and lock the door as you and San stared down one another with laser like focus.

“Sit. The. Fuck. Down. Y/N.” He hisses through his teeth, using the tone of voice he reserved for those occasions you would have tested his patience when your dynamic was in place.

“You’re not the fucking boss of me anymore Choi San. Just fucking UGH!! Let me go!” You bark back.

“I’m not going to lose you now when I finally have you back in my life, I won’t make that same mistake again.” His voice sounded as if he was about to cry, it was broken. San’s voice carried his emotions after not seeing you for months,he sounded lost, hurt, terrified, and so, so sad.

“You won’t lose me Sannie, you never did. I went overboard leaving like I did, I was just so… so fucking scared. I was with you every day. I slept in your bed, woke up to you, brushed my teeth while you showered, held you when you cooked. It was becoming so real, so domestic, it felt too coupley when you wouldn’t even claim me as someone you had even been fucking! I couldn’t take it anymore, it was too painful.” Your voice broke as you crumpled to pieces before your former lover. His own eyes filled with unshed tears as he looked at you. Your hair hung in your eyes as you stared at your shoes. Your arms were wrapped around your body like a protective shield as you rocked back and forth avoiding him as your confession hung in the air like a thick fog.

“Oh bun. Shit, baby. I— fuck it. I love you Y/N I have loved you for years. I think it was sophomore year of college when I realized how I’d fallen for you. It was when you were there for me when Mina broke up with me, you didn’t even do anything but sit and listen as I cried. You told me something that day, do you remember?” You shook your head as you looked up at him with wide eyes at his confession. Your heart was thumping, head reeling at the words he’d just blurted out. “You held me and said ‘San, any chance to love you is a chance worth having. You love so greatly, so wonderfully, so wholeheartedly. Love from you in any capacity is love worth lifetimes of happiness that anyone would be blessed to have.’” You began to cry as you realized he was telling you the truth, he remembered verbatim the words you told him that day. He remembered the veiled confession you made.

“San, I love you too.” You whispered, almost incomprehensibly.

“Say it again, please”

“Choi San, I Y/N Y/L/N am undeniably in love with you.” You said louder, now smiling at him with tears cascading down your cheeks. His own tears falling from his eyes as your lips crashed onto his. The kiss tasted like salt from your mingling tears. He smelled like his cologne mixed with his own natural scent that was something so addictive. He felt like home. The warmth of his hands felt like forever.

You moved back in shortly after San confessed, loving him felt like walking on air; light, freeing, and gentle. The domestic routine was something you loved, a good morning kiss, another kiss as you both left for work, a welcome home kiss from him as he cooked dinner to reward you as you came back from a longer day at the office, so many kisses just because. He spoiled you in affection and words of his adoration for you, he made you feel so at home.

It was game night at your home with San, your friends all lounged on your couches as you curled into the worn leather loveseat nestled into the crook of San’s arm. Your head was resting on his chest as your sock covered toes poked at the arm of the small sofa, his laughter lightly shook you as a fond smile crept to your face as Seonghwa was forced into telling another embarrassing tale of his college dating woes. “So she walks into my dorm, I’m thinking ‘hell yeah I’m about to lose my v-card and BAM! The lego collection scared her away like DAMN can’t a man get laid and like legos?” He laments and the snort that left you at his story has the whole group laughing. “Okay just for that miss piggy, your turn, truth or drink?”

“For the sake of my liver, truth.”

“What’s the wildest thing San and you have done while fucking?” The sip of your single glass of wine for the night nearly launches from your nose as the boldness of Seongwha’s question sets in.

“What defines wild to you?”

“Nah sister, just answer the question.”

“Well there was this one time he had me collared with a leash but also tied up in this crazy position, like my ankles and wrists bound together so I was practically immobile. He fucked me so hard I blacked out, we’re okay with like him still going even when I’m not all there in the head. We’ve talked boundaries about that stuff so don’t keep looking at him like he’s a psycho. And yeah, or would you rather hear about how he had to punish me for being such a brat, he went so hard on me that day I had to call off work for three days so the bruises on my ass could heal and I could sit down properly?” You smirked and looked up at San, his eyes were burning onto you as his own smirk settled onto his face. He bent his head down and uttered one small phrase that had you shifting in anticipation.

“Strike one bun, you know I don’t like the idea of them imagining you all exposed and slutty for me.” His voice practically sounded like a purring lion. The shiver that went down your spine was visible to anyone looking your way.

“Well damn. Don’t go having war flashbacks over there Mr. and Mrs. Pornhub.” Yunho prompted as he cleared his throat. You shrugged and the game kept going. The questions only seemed to grow bolder as time passed and soon enough you all grew progressively drunker.

“Y/N truth or drink but if you drink it’s 3 shots this time!” Wooyoung drunkenly declares.

“That’s so foul, okay lay it on me.”

“Who in this room would you tell San you’d be cool to have a threesome with?” San’s grip on your thigh grew harsh in a warning. You promptly took the shots and groans of disappointment rang out as your friends still asked you to answer.

“Fuck it, ummmm Joong I guess.” You say not thinking as the alcohol muffled your mind of any proper filter.

“Strike two.” San’s voice rings in your ear. Like baseball, one more and you’re out of luck. So, you turn on the brat mode.

“I mean come on we all have eyes, Joong is cute and I’m not saying I would do it but hey who knows.” You shrug and you feel San’s eyes burning into your skull as Hongjoong blushes wildly and murmurs a question filled “thank you?”.

The third strike warning never comes as San finds an excuse for the party to end and within the hour you find yourself bent over his lap. The loud thwack! of the shiny leather paddle reserved for only the harshest of your punishments against your ass rings out as he orders you to count. “One! Thank you sir.” THWACK! “T-two! Thank you sir.” and so on until you hit fifteen. Your ass is ringing with pain as he manhandles you silently onto your back with your head hanging over the edge of the bed. You didn’t even have a moment to process before your ankles are on his shoulders and his cock is being pounded into your sopping cunt, tears leaked from your eyes and were hitting your hairline as cries of pained pleasure were ripped from your throat.

“Shut the fuck up and take it like the greedy whore you are.” His warm palm encased your throat as he squeezed it, choked gasp filled moans fell from your lips as the familiar feeling of floating euphoria filled your mind. The blood rushing to your head combined with the sensation of his hand around your throat squeezing your airway made each thrust hit that much more intensely. Your mind was going blank and you dropped into the headspace that made you lose all sense of thought and control. Your mind was solely consumed by San, only San.

“Sir, gonna cum!” You cried as that knot in your stomach grew tighter and tighter. He shook his head and pulled out, he pulled his hand away and maneuvered so he stood at the side of the bed near your face.

“Only good girls get to cum, you know that. Or are you too stupid to remember Bunny?”

“‘m a dumb bunny and forgot sorry sir! Please let me cum!” The tears fell harder toward your hairline as you gazed at him with pleading eyes.

“Suck Sir off and I’ll maybe let you cum.” He asserted and he began to thrust his cock down your throat as soon as your mouth opened. His cock bullied the back of your throat, spit trailed from your lips to your cheeks and hair as you gagged and moaned around his throbbing hard length. You could barely take half of him, but you wanted to please him so badly you relaxed you gag reflex and watched his face screw up in pleasure as he watched his length create a bulge in your throat as you worked to deep throat the entirety of his pulsating cock. It felt like hours of him thrusting in and out of your mouth, your mind was numb and you were still yearning for orgasm. After a few choked “Good girl bunny.”’s you felt his cum shoot down your throat. He pulled out and let the last few ropes of cum shoot over your face moaning as you tried to swallow more of his load.

“Oh Bunny you did so well for me, let Sir make you cum all over for him okay? Want me to eat that pretty little pussy and make you squirt for Sir?” A dumb nod in response was all it took for him to begin lapping at your sopping hole, moans and growls rumbled against your aching clit as he suckled on it like he was having his last meal. His tongue was expertly thrusting in and out of your pussy and his nose brushed your clit as he moved his head to lick you from your asshole to your clit a few times. Your head was reeling as silent screams left your lips, your eyes rolled back into your head as he gently nibbled at your clit. You couldn’t even give San a warning as with one last thrust of his tongue the wire in your core snapped and you felt that jolt of pleasure spread from your head to your extremities. Your legs shook as your fingers dug into his scalp and you held his head to your pussy. Gush after gush of your orgasm flooded from you as he continued to lick and suck at your core. You couldn’t even declare it being too much before another white hot orgasm hit you. You continued to whine and squeal as you soaked the sheets. He pulled away and watched as the lady sprays of your orgasm fled your body. “That’a girl, you there for me baby?” You nodded tiredly as he maneuvered you so your head was resting on a pillow. He had prepared prior to starting the scene having some water, baby wipes, and some pain cream for your ass for aftercare. He whispered soft praises as he moved you once again to massage your aching ass cheeks with the cream and to clean the sticky mess between your thighs with the baby wipes. His gentle touch was so comforting as he made sure you were comfortable after the intense scene was done. Once he was done cleaning you up and making sure you were alright he began to help you sip some water and he whispered more praises to you as you came down to earth from your headspace. Your heart was so full of love and warmth as you took in his gentle hands rubbing your arms and his honeyed voice cooing how proud he was of you, how good you were, and how in love with you he was. He held you close, his chest pressed firmly against your back as you began to be lulled to sleep by his steady heartbeat and the encompassing warmth radiating from his body.

“Sannie?” You whispered hoarsely, looking over your shoulder at him with shining eyes full of happy tears. He smiled and moved to rub them away with his free hand, he peppered kisses on your forehead as he did so.

“Yes my love?”

“I’m so glad the guys made us talk, I can’t imagine not having you in my life. I love you so much.” His own eyes began to fill with tears as he moved so he could kiss you deeply. He didn’t need to respond, his kiss conveyed his feelings. His kiss was warm, filled with the years of adoration he held for you. His arms were safe, protecting you from ever being harmed by the world outside your bedroom. His heartbeat was the metronome by which the melody of your happiness kept time. San was home, he was your forever.

To San, your soft skin was his oasis in a desert. The warmth of your skin on his was his security. Your hands held his heart. Your voice was what he imagined Heaven to sound like. You were his forever. You were his home. You were his peace when the world was too great to bear.

Mr. Mountain and his Bun, could anything be more wonderful? In your eyes, nothing could be better than that. Nothing could be better than loving Choi San. And to him, nothing could be more perfect than loving you with every fiber of his being.

———————————————————————

Taglist: @stolasisyourparent

1 October 2023:

Thank you for reading this far! If you like it please consider reblogging it helps a LOT! Please remember that this is a work of fiction and all of the idols mentioned are used as face claims for characters I’ve come up with. None of their actions or behaviors are indicative of who they maybe be IRL :)

[aemondsbabe]

Hi lovely, so... Any thoughts on the finale? 😭 On everything but especially on what Aemond's scenes mean for him? I honestly think all his actions were because he was absolutely desperate and afraid, because his scene with Helaena on the balcony? :') it hurt to see just how much he was hurting, he just looked so alone and afraid idk, he was literally crying.

- Lyra

to preface this lmao — morale is low right now girly, i won’t lie. i may come back and edit this some tomorrow when i am less pissed off and emotional, who knows.

anyway.

i do genuinely think that him being desperate and quite frankly scared and freaking out does fit with him as a character, so i agree with you. i think the man is at his wits end for like a thousand different reasons.

aren’t we all.

i do like that ewan made the choice to cry in that last scene with helaena, i do think that added depth. although, to what end, i’m not sure anymore, to be frank.

i’m sure aemond feels quite panicked. he has vhagar yes and tessarion to at least some degree, and i suppose dreamfyre is at least present? but sunfyre is out of comission, as is the only other skilled rider the greens have. so he and daeron are effectively it and now rhaenyra has three new dragons and three new dragonriders.

i’m sure he’s shitting bricks tbqh.

i think, i hope, that deep down he does sincerely care about his family. if we’re basing it off the books, then he definitely does. show aemond though i think, at this point, is trying his best to protect his wounded pride. and then helaena tells him it doesn’t matter and he’s gonna die anyway. so.

idk man. on the whole, i’m just upset and disappointed. i am very sympathetic toward aemond because i realize that his life, along with his sibling’s, has been quite shit. he got dealt a hard hand. i’m scared about season 3.

[spindashes]

I want to be excited for Sonic Racing CrossWorlds, I really do, but jeez, I am disappointed at getting yet ANOTHER Sonic racing game where they are in cars.

Like, I really don’t mean to seem pedantic, but kart racers really don’t feel fitting to Sonic. It’s a really generic formula, and one that doesn’t feel particularly conducive to Sonic for me. It doesn’t mesh well with the world or its characters imo, and gameplay wise it tends to just result in a lesser Mario Kart.

The Riders formula is genuinely so good, the extreme sports aesthetic matched with vehicles that match the energy and attitude of the series was pitch perfect. Sonic riding flying skateboards while wearing sunglasses is the coolest stuff EVER. Yes, they were a tad beginner unfriendly, but I see that as reason to fine tune the formula and make it more approachable, not scrap it (make the controls easier to grasp, add Mario Kart items and you’re gold).

Why on Earth we haven’t gone back to it after Free Riders honestly baffles me. It fits Sonic better, it’s more unique, it’s more creative, it isn’t just an imitation of better games.

That said, I’m holding out judgement until we know more. Because the name “CrossWorlds” means that its probably a crossover game, like Sonic & Sega All Stars Racing. Granted, you can still do crossover characters in the Riders games (they’ve had them from the first game), but I imagine it’ll be more focused on it and what it can bring to the game.

I’m hoping that it’s more inspired than Team Sonic Racing and the Sonic kart racers before it. I really want this to be something interesting enough to be worth playing in comparison to other kart racers, I really do. My fingers are crossed that they’ll do some interesting stuff with it. Not holding my breath, but hey, I can hope.

[apr1lias]

Just for my own documentation (and anyone else’s if they want it) here’s a summary of Thursday at Silverstone. This is going under the cut because while this is a summary, I myself cannot summarise the words lmao.

The basics/area/idk how to describe it:

- Arriving at the track it really feels like more people are here for Thursday than last year (hopefully this continues for the weekend since this is regularly not a well attended race in comparison).

- There was also so many people wearing different merch whereas the last 2 years have been pretty much Marc and Vale. Fabio I think actually looked the most popular this year, but there was a surprising amount of Martin fans.

- The one thing I’m disappointed about is that last year they changed the bit around the fanzone from grass to gravel and it’s the same this year. It makes it a lot more inaccessible and its so difficult to get to the activities and stuff.

- In fact I think they changed the layout way more this year but it was still fine, just weird that they don’t want us touching grass lol.

- The fans as a whole behaved well but there were a few people that were rude, not necessarily towards the riders but towards other fans.

The paddock:

- The paddock opened at 11 but the queue started at like half past 10, but it really didn’t take long to get in so it was fine. It was ridiculously hot though.

- The paddock itself is massive, but for the GP teams its too small unlike the old layout. They’ve had to add a secondary part at the back for some of the smaller teams in Moto2/3 for their hospitality and motor homes.

- They didn’t have anywhere to get drinks in the paddock unlike last year. We wouldve had to leave to get drinks but luckily we bought water and they had refilling stations.

- We wanted to get to the pitlane for the bike reveals and the queue was… well just absolutely ridiculous to put it mildly. We decided to skip it which was sad but we got to watch the reveals on the screen (Yamaha and Pramac won for me and I love Trackhouse’s too).

The auction:

- The auction is so fun. Basically all the riders put something of theirs, for example a knee slider or boots or something, and then people bid (slightly ridiculous) amounts of money for them for the two wheels for life.

- Joe Roberts was brought on stage and he was giving away part of his race winning bike from mugello??? They got 4k for it.

- Jake Dixon was there on stage but he was ill. He brought Summer (his daughter) out on stage and she waved at all of us which was so cute.

- The auctioned a Prosecco bottle that was signed by Johann Zarco, Jack Miller and wait for it…. Pecco Bagnaia. No one else seemed to care how ironic that was but I burst out laughing.

- Johann Zarco talks a lot. By a lot I mean he may as well have presented the auction himself. That’s all I can say about the MotoGP riders that I didn’t know already.

- Actually I just want to say that Fabio seems really shy and reserved but he knows how to work a crowd. The British crowd absolutely love both him and Rins but I genuinely think he’s the best supported rider here, maybe even more than Marc.

- He also did the auction for his boots which was absolutely hilarious. He wanted to buy them himself too but got outbidded 😭

- Also Remy kind of said on stage that it appears he will be doing another year of WSBK with Yamaha!!!!!

- We left early because of the rain but it was so fun, if I had money then I would’ve been bidding on stuff but it was fun regardless.

The riders (and team people i suppose):

- Met the Moto3 baby goats extremely early and David and Collin are both lovely and so polite too.

- Ran into Massimo Rivola. I have a picture with him and he smiled at me when he saw I was wearing Aprilia merch. Also found Pablo Nieto and Frankie Carchedi and said hello to Nadia Padovani.

- My friend saw Somkiat in the motorhome and shouted at him, and he kind of jumped and pointed but he came down for a chat and a photo. Again, he is probably one of the, if not the, nicest person in the whole paddock.

- Found Celestino and again he is so nice but also comes across as really shy. I actually told him he was my favourite out of everyone and he seemed really grateful for it (unless he thought I was crazy which is also possible).

- Saw somebody who I thought was J.A. Rueda but I’m not 100% sure. Also ran into both Senna Agius and Jeremy Alcoba and when I tell you those boys look the same its crazy.

- Saw Albert and had to stop myself from apologising that I jinx him every weekend. Also a great guy it seems and we saw him a few more times after that.

- Not saying it’s necessarily him all the time but it’s two years in a row I’ve had a very negative experience of a certain #1. Never said hello or anything when people said it to him, unlike literally every other rider (yes including Fabio and Marc and any other person you want to try a pull a gotcha card on).

- I need to issue a public apology to Jorge Martin because I saw him on his scooter and shouted “Hola Jorge” from a distance and following that he got swamped. He’s not off the shit list but he was actually a nice guy. I also asked if he could sign anything Aprilia yet (thought I’d ask because i had my pen and cap) and he smiled and said not this time.

- I have had skin-on-skin contact with Fabio (not even out of context: he touched my arm while I was helping him escape on the scooter from a crowd).

- I didn’t see him but my friend did and the good news is for the first time in two years Pedro has arrived at Silverstone not on crutches!!!

- Saw Maverick, Aleix and Enea (who was walking back and forth around Aprilia for some reason). They were down the opposite end to all of us but all smiled and waved. Maverick disappeared somewhere so I’m pretty sure he’s a wizard.

- Found Luca who was lovely again. Also Miguel who said he has given up dentistry now!! Again lovely and stopped for as many as he could, as did Bezz.

- We stopped to get some shade, which conveniently ended up being outside the Yamaha hospitality. Got a picture with Remy and I got thrown off because he was speaking perfect Italian to someone.

- Saw Sarah (Jake’s wife) and we said good luck to him for the weekend, and we asked where he was but she told us he was ill (which you could tell from the auction lol)

- David Muñoz was laughing at everyone queueing for and just sat there on his bike.

- Saw Ai and he was really patient because I could not get the camera to work. Again such a lovely guy and in case anyone was curious: he and Somkiat are still really good friends and Somkiat was riding Ai around on the same scooter so they’re still cool.

- I said it earlier but favourite rider of the day: Tony Arbolino aka loml. I cannot even tell you how nice he is because that deserves a post in itself. He was so happy I had his cap that he thanked me before I could thank him for signing it (his signature is interesting to say the least lmao I put the picture so you be the judge). Also some man offered to take our picture but I didn’t realise and I’m fairly confident it was his manager.

So yeah this was basically my day. If you wanna ask about any other riders cause I saw so many (the ones I’ve mentioned are the ones I have pictures with or of) then feel free to ask but yes 11/10 day, would recommend it to everyone. Hopefully we have a good weekend to follow!

[bluestar22x]

The Riding Lesson

Summary: When you are hired at a ranch as a trail guide, the owner asks the foreman to teach you how to ride Western style.

Pairing: Jack Daniels x F!Reader

Rating: 18+ (to be safe)

Warnings: Some sexual tension and thoughts, lots of horsey terms

Word Count: 2,381

Author's Note: AU fic for the @pedrostories 1k celebration. Prompt quote was "Is that the best you've got?"

See my Main Masterlist for other Pedro character fanfics.

xxx

Summers were a busy time at Western Willow Ranch. Not only were there the beef cattle and their calves to tend to, but there were also guests coming and going for both morning and afternoon trail rides.

You were hired as a temporary employee, needed for the surplus of guests they got every year as the weather turned hot. Your role would be to help guide trail rides and keep the tack clean and polished.

Having grown up around horses and competed in jumping competitions back in California, you had plenty of experience for the job, except for one small detail.

You'd never ridden Western before.

You were confident you'd pick it up fast though. English and Western riding were different, but they weren't intimidatingly different. As far as you could tell, the only difference was the saddle shape, the speed of the horse, and the way the reins were held and used.

Though you figured you could probably teach yourself, you'd still agreed with the owner of the ranch to take a riding lesson with his foreman.

You had your riding lesson on your very first day, after you were shown around the farm by a stable hand and shown what a typical morning was like at the ranch.

The foreman was one of the few employees missing from the barn, having been out tending to the cattle.

After lunch in the employee building, you waited for him in the barn aisle as instructed, glancing at your watch every so often. The lesson had been set for one o'clock and it was ten minutes past.

He was worth the wait though.

He strolled into the barn with his mount moments later, the beautiful golden buckskin gelding following behind obediently, and you caught your breath.

Most horsemen didn't catch your attention. More often than not the horse was a lot prettier than their rider, but the foreman was handsome, and that was an understatement. Dark brown hair covered by a black cowboy hat, matching dark eyes, a mustache that fit his face perfectly, a strong jawline, curved nose, and an air of confidence to him, he was worthy of the front cover of every western magazine out there as far as you were concerned.

You couldn't help but feel disappointed he was technically one of your bosses. You didn't like mixing business and pleasure, but... damn... maybe if he didn't mind it, you could make an exception.

You shook your head at that thought. You haven't even said one fucking word to him yet. Down girl.

He said your name and it sounded like honey on his lips. You chewed yours. You really needed to chill, but it wasn't your fault his voice sounded sinful.

"That's me," you managed to say, lamely raising a hand up.

"Sorry about the wait, darlin'," he continued. "One of the calves got into trouble with the fencing."

"Are they alright?" you asked, genuinely concerned. You loved all animals, or at least, all the furry ones.

He nodded. "Yeah, he'll be just fine."

He held out his right hand. "The name's Jack Daniels."

You shook his hand firmly and repeated yours. "So, is this the horse I'm riding?" You nodded at his mount.

Jack shook his head. "Nope. Ace here is a one rider kind of horse. He don't like strangers. But I'm going to have you help me untack and groom him so I can show you the saddle and how to secure the cinch."

It turned out the cinch was like the girth on the English saddle, a strap that ran under the horse's belly to secure the saddle to their back. The cinch wasn't so simple to adjust as a girth was. The strap was longer and needed to be wrapped just right around the ring it looped through multiple times to fit proper.

You picked it up fast though, only needing Jack to show you twice to get it.

When you'd done up the cinch correctly three times in a row Jack let you untack Ace completely and had you carry the saddle back to the tack room. The saddle was probably three times as heavy as an English saddle, mostly due to the extra lift of the seat and the saddle horn. You managed to carry the saddle for the whole two minute walk to the tack room but it was a struggle, not that you'd have admitted it.

Once the tack was cleaned and put away you returned to Jack's side in Ace's stall. He was in the middle of brushing him with a soft brush and you joined in without a word, working on the horse's opposite side.

After Ace was completely groomed you both stepped out of the stall.

"Follow me to your horse of the day," Jack ordered, walking over to a stall at the back of the barn. You did as told and peered over the stall door.

A pretty little black and white mare was on the other side, too busy chewing her afternoon hay to pay attention to you and Jack.

"This here's Puzzle," he informed you. "She's an old gal. Nearly thirty. We don't ride her much anymore, but she's a great beginner horse. She'll be as patient as a lamb with you."

Were lambs patient? you wondered. Was that term even a thing?

Jack patted the saddle and bridle that were hanging over her door. "Had Bettie, one of the stable hands, get this for us this morning. I want you to groom Puzzle and saddle her up all on your own. Think you can do that?"

"No problem," you declared, setting to work.

It really wasn't a problem, though you did fumble on the cinch for a second before your short-term memory kicked in. Most else was pretty straight forward and Jack gave you an approving nod when you were finished.

"Great," he said, "Now she's all set to go, lead her out to the corral and we'll get going on the main part of this lesson."

You nodded and walked out of the stall with Puzzle close beside you. She was a cute thing. You were a bit sad she was too old to be assigned as your mount. Whichever horse you got would be at least a decade younger and more energetic. While those were the horses you were used to, you'd felt like you and Puzzle were already connecting.

Once you slipped into the outdoor corral, a round fenced in pen used for training horses, you settled the reins of the bridle over Puzzle's neck and the saddle horn before glancing to Jack for further instruction.

"Hop on," Jack commanded. "We'll get everything adjusted after."

You nodded and swung up into the saddle easily.

"How do the stirrups feel?" Jack inquired.

You tilted your heels down. "A little long. But they're supposed to be, right? Western isn't so tight?"

"It should still feel comfortable," Jack replied.

"It does."

"Good. Tighten that cinch one more time. Puzzle likes to stick out her gut when the saddle goes on."

You bent and reached to untie the cinch and tightened it, but when it came to securing it back you struggled due to the angle.

"Just takes practice," Jack assured you when you admitted you couldn't figure it out. "Here, let me help."

He approached Puzzle and tapped on your lower leg with a few fingers to signal to you to pull it back, still in the stirrup so he could get access to the cinch.

You did that and watched as he tugged on it once more before finishing the job.

When he was done, he grabbed your left lower leg, guiding it back into place, and the prolonged warm touch of his palm pressed against your jeans sent a spark through you.

What you would give for him to touch you in other places.

Jack stepped away to climb the fence and straddle it and you barely held your composure. Fuck, this job was going to be difficult, and it wasn't because of the new riding style you had to learn.

"Hold the reins with one hand centered over her neck," Jack instructed as he perched on the top railing.

You grabbed the reins and slid your fingers over into the correct position.

"Good, now take her around at a walk for a few turns and then a jog after," Jack said. "A jog's like a slow trot, for you, city girl," he added.

A decade ago teenage you would've stuck out your tongue at him, but mature you simply gave him another nod and followed his orders.

Jack was quiet as you put Puzzle through her paces, until she started jogging and you started pushing yourself up and down out of the saddle with her stride.

"What're doin' darlin'?" Jack questioned, frowning. "You sit in the saddle."

"Oh." You blushed as you sat down and slowed Puzzle. His confusion somehow had made you embarrassed about it. "It's posting. Do you not do that in Western?"

"Nope," Jack answered. "That saddle ain't made for that."

"Okay," you nearly squeaked.

You nudged Puzzle with your heels, encouraging her back into a jog and completed your task sitting down the whole time. You found that the jog was more tolerable to sit than a trot. Riding a trotting horse like that could be rough at times.

You stopped in the center of the round pen when you were done.

"How was that?" you asked almost shyly.

Jack gave you a small smile. "Excellent for your first time. It's obvious how many years you've ridden."

"Thanks."

"I think you're ready for a test run on the trail."

"On Puzzle?" you questioned.

Jack shook his head. "Like I said, she's too old. Gonna have to bring her back to her stall and get two fresh horses saddled up. Shouldn't take too long between the two of us."

You nodded and jumped off Puzzle. "Let's get to it then."

x

An hour later you and Jack were out on the plains of the surrounding Montana landscape, enjoying an easy stroll under the warm afternoon sun on two new mounts.

His was a solid chestnut mare named Trix, and yours was a black mare with a star marking named Karma.

As you moved over the landscape Jack pointed things out to you. The trailheads, the river that bordered the ranch, the cattle in the distance. Everything you'd need to know and would eventually know by the back of your hand.

The sun was beginning to fall westerly when he finished showing you around.

"You will not be alone the first few weeks you guide trail rides so we don't have to worry about checking those out today," Jack told you. "So I figure it's time to turn around."

You nodded and pulled the reins towards east, towards where the ranch house and barn were located. Jack did the same.

"Let's lope for part of the way," Jack decided.

You knew it was another test. "Sure."

He picked up the pace first and you sent Karma after him and Trix, making sure to keep enough distance between the horses as you caught up to them so not to cause them to bump into each other.

He observed you from the corner of his eye, a ghost of a smile on his pouty looking lips.

You tried not to get distracted by it, telling yourself he was only looking because he wanted to see how you were in the saddle at faster speeds, even though you sensed there was something more to it.

You were the first to slow your horse, and when Jack had Trix back at a walk beside you, he raised his eyebrows.

"Is that the best you got?"

You blinked at him, confused. "What do you mean?"

He grinned at you and you realized then that Jack Daniels was a bit of a menace.

He gestured at a fallen log several yards away. "I heard about your jumping skills. Show me?"

You didn't know if Karma had any history jumping, but the log looked harmless, just thick enough to force the mare to jump it instead of walk over it. "Sure."

You kicked the mare and she immediately shot into a lope, headed straight for the log. You focused, got yourself into position as best as you could in the bulky western saddle, and the next thing you knew you were flying over the obstacle. The rush of adrenaline as you did was amazing as always.

After Karma landed on the other side you could hear Jack clapping.

You turned her back towards him as you both settled into a walk again.

"You two make a fine team," Jack said. "Think I'll tell Dusty to assign you to her."

You grinned. "That would be great." You still were kinda stuck on Puzzle, but you really liked Karma too.

You patted her neck and turned her to face the house once more. "Race you back, full gallop."

Jack smiled. "You're on."

x

After you and Jack had settled your horses back into their stalls, he turned to you for a final time that night.

"Any questions before I go?"

You shrugged. "Not really. Just...how was I today?"

He flashed you a charming smile. "You impressed me darlin'. Not that I have any right to be. You obviously know your way around horses and jumping them is not the easiest."

"Why did you test me then?" you inquired.

"Cause you could've lied on your resume," Jack replied.

True enough. But you had ribbons to prove it back home.

"See you around," he finally said, and you could've sworn he gave you a quick once over. When he smirked you were certain he had.

So you weren't the only one interested. This was a mutual thing. Your heart fluttered. There was a chance.

"See you around, cowboy," you returned smoothly.

He beamed at you, delighted that you had used a nickname for him and tipped his head. "Night darlin���."

And with that he left the barn, and left you to watch him go, eyes trained on the shape of his ass in his tight blue jeans.

You hummed appreciatively. This summer is going to be fantastic.

xxx

Tagged: harriedandharassed

xxx

Main Masterlist

xxx

[tarabyte3]

From your WIPs, your Secret Andy Blorbo X Reader sounds so interesting! Especially considering the change in stance on your thirst for the character. Can I get just a crumb of a clue of who the Blorbo is? :3 ❤️

Okay, I'll just share who it is! (Mostly because I don't want anyone to get excited and then end up disappointed lol)

It's Mr. Grin from the 2006 British kid's film Alex Rider: Stormbreaker. He's a henchman to the main villain, and he used to be a knife thrower in a circus until an ✨incident✨ where he got distracted when he tried to catch a knife in his mouth. Now he no longer speaks, he only grunts. Which, in an Andy character, should be a feature, not a bug!!!

UNFORTUNATELY. They put. The worst wig and prosthetics. I have ever seen in my LIFE. On this beautiful man. And at one point he is wearing an honest to god cape.

LOOK AT HOW THEY MASSACRED MY BOY. (Because yes I still made gifs of him and I own it on DVD)

They did him so dirty 😭

He was in The Lord of the Rings!!!!

(the pilot helmet makes it better, but unfortunately for all of us, I am doing hard mode and he will not be in the hat)

So here is the (very rough) blurb I wrote up that took this from "Hahaha what a funny joke" to "Oh no, I am yearning for Mr. Grin! I have to write this now." Enjoy!

"Does he always treat you that way?" You ask softly. There's a genuine kindness in your voice that makes his hands tremble.

He shrugs as he looks away, an attempt to keep the truth from showing on his face.

"You don't deserve that, you know. Why do you stay?"

He wants to tell you that he has nowhere else to go. Sayle's treatment has always been easy to endure because what else is there? No one else would ever take in a man like him, who's disfigured and can't speak and knows only violence. He also wants to tell you he doesn't deserve anything better after all the things he's done.

But he can't.

Instead, he glances helplessly back at you. He expects to see pity on your face, but there's only concern and an empathy not meant for a man like him.

Suddenly his feet itch to run away, to escape from those eyes that see past his scars and this moment that makes him feel too exposed.

He also desperately wants more of it. To feel your gentle touch on his face and your lips pressed against his so he can see what other sounds your pretty voice can make. He wants to pretend this is something real that he can have, and not just a kindness on your part.

[asknarashikari]

Although Kamen Rider is definitely a more than a franchise for kids...considering people of all ages can enjoy it. There's something I've been wanting to ask...

Do you hate it when a show tries to teach a genuinely bad moral or has a pretty terrible way of showing the moral (or hell BOTH routes even) to the audience? And worse, try to enforce those bad/flawed moral? Because, even when a kids show ends up being more than a kids show when it attracts beyond it's general audience...there is definitely one thing I believe a writer for a kids show should NEVER, and I do mean NEVER EVER, do and that is to deliberately teach and enforce a genuinely BAD moral, especially to your intended target audience. It's one thing to execute the moral for your audience terribly, but it's another to try to teach your younger audience a bad moral and try to force it down their throats. Like do you also agree with this?

(You know...like those forced redemptions and letting villains get off scot-free with hardly any repercussions, tropes you and I all despise, with Kamen Rider Geats being the most guilty of this. Oh and speaking of bad morals from that show...who can forget THIS GEM of a moral that Takahashi tried to teach us?)

I don't think the writers set out to teach children a bad moral. Most of them do try to teach good morals.

But when you really look into it, especially as an adult, you realize it lacks nuance. Like in this case.

"Hate the sin, not the sinner" is a good moral on the surface. It is genuinely a good thing to not hold grudges against people who make mistakes and to forgive them for what wrongs they did you.

But if you really look into it... You run into problems like the ones I mention in my original post. Even in Geats itself we have people like Kanato who made espousing such a moral unreasonable.

Kamen Rider (and also Super Sentai) is a show that exists to sell toys to and therefore profit off of young children so I would not count on it to be the most reliable teacher of moral uprightness. Lack of nuance would be expected, even if it was disappointing- but that doesn't mean we can't critique it for what it is.

[wiltking]

finished Water Horse by melissa scott. miiiiiixed feelings.

i was enjoying it quite a bit up until around the middle point, when the battles started. now i have to be honest, i love violence. and i genuinely enjoy military fantasy. but i really struggled to get through these battle scenes and i could not for the life of me understand the reasoning to write out every little action, however mundane, across multiple POVs and skirmishes and the moving of fighters. it was way too much, for far too long, with way too little to make it interesting. it was difficult to feel the stakes when even the lord paramount (the main antagonist!) was not present for 98% of it. which surprised me. the huge chunk of time between the last time Reys and Angeiles are present in the story until their reappearance at end of the book was disappointing not only because their relationship was building up to something really interesting, but I also wanted more from the Riders' perspective in the conflict. especially when the first half of the book set them up to be a relevant perspective. to not see through their eyes at all for the entirety of the main conflict - was a choice. one that i did not like.

i could talk about some of the things i did like - the worldbuilding, the characters, the relationships, the somewhat vague writing style that pulls you in and forces you to work to fill in the gaps. Esclin's harem of devoted men who are more than a little in love with him. his looks. his age. the water horse itself. but the priorities across the entire book just felt unbalanced. for a nearly 500 page book i didn't feel like i got much for my mileage and was left wanting much more. especially with characters like Huwar (and his relationship -- his history, his future -- with Esclin), Reys and Angeiles (literally everything and anything going on there), Radoc and Linaren (any scrap of resolution for their involvement would have been nice), even Brelin unfortunately did not feel developed enough, despite being present for the most interesting scenes during the hundreds of pages of battle crawl.

this book is filled with fascinating characters and relationship dynamics. the buildup to some of these relationships were incredibly fascinating and promising, stuff that i was heavily invested in. but in the end i hardly feel satisfied with any of it.

thankfully the last 80 pages or so picked up my interest again, and if i could heavily trim down the battle section i would probably rate my overall enjoyment of Water Horse higher than Master of Samar. despite everything. but as it is, i'll just direct you to read the Points books instead. and tell you to only read this if you already like Melissa Scott and the curiosity gets the better of you.

[girlfriendsofthegalaxy]

tuesday again halloween problems (10/31/2023)

not quite an "oops all friends" edition but this edition heavily advised by viewers like you. thank you!

listening

mcr's blood, for seasonal reasons. spotify

Father Finlee by Spence Hood and Justin Ray Stringer is my new favorite song, a spooky prison? folk ballad? elements of the work song and dirge about it. rounds are underutilized in modern music imo.

Finlee played that guard like a fiddle Turned his own fears into a honing missile “Father can you save my soul…” “Well, first you gotta bring me a little C4...”

usually when a song intrigues me like this i try to find interviews or breakdowns of samples or something, but i am coming up flat empty. @dying-suffering-french-stalkers tasting notes: "Volga Boatmen, maybe, but by way of like...1950s/60s Disney choruses? Like Grim Grinning Ghosts?" spotify

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reading

somewhat horrifying but unsurprising article about how companies who want (or want to keep) governments contracts can buy out entire DC Metro stations' adspaces. via @andmaybegayer i think?

The Pentagon station, a prime target for reaching DOD staffers, was one of a kind. The Pentagon is the most expensive station to “dominate” according to Outfront Media data which I obtained, even though it has substantially fewer riders than some of the others. Advertising to the 665,786 commuters estimated to visit the Pentagon station in a four week period costs $198,000 (about 30 cents per commuter), before fees. Yet in Gallery Place-Chinatown, a station in downtown DC farther away from government buildings, it costs only $120,000 to reach more than three times as many people (5 cents per commuter).

it is difficult to stress how uncooperative miss mackintosh was during this book's photoshoot. this is genuinely the best one.

i did not enjoy and did not finish Roshani Chokshi's 2018 queer magical intrigue and heist caper in belle epoque france, first in a trilogy. i think there is a mismatch between concept and execution here. i originally had a rather long paragraph about how i'd be interested in a non-new-adult book from her, but after checking her website and seeing that she mostly writes midde-grade and YA, and classifies this book as YA (which doesn't really make sense to me, i think everyone in the core crew can legally drink and i think what i read from this book fits better in New Adult) and has a forthcoming adult book i am not interested in, i think she is simply not an author for me. i reevauated this book with YA in mind, but i think teens deserve books with sophisticated writing and good execution too!

this had a really killer hook but the worldbuilding comes very in thick and fast during the first quarter of the book i read, and felt a little dorling kindersley (here is an eye of horus! on a chinese compass! with a sumerian cipher!). the magical system chokshi uses is novel in its heavy reliance on physical objects and like, countermeasures and counterspells? we get little hints of it as a global system, and it feels very analogous to The Power Of The Computer. a lot of it is based on creation of various physical objects, some of it is mind-based, there are the equivalent of magical stone faraday cages. the macguffin is like. what if a major internet exchange was an object you could carry around.

this magic system is so interesting it makes it disappointing and difficult to break down the distinction between "i don't think the soft-skill worldbuilding through connections and loyalties of characters is that well executed in these first hundred pages" and "hate this specific literary device". we are dropped into a heist at a magical auction where the many magical representatives are attending and rapidly rush through a lineup. this would be a really fun movie or other visual setpiece with intricate costuming choices, but it's hard to show and not tell a complex system of combined familial/cultural/nation-state houses of magic with backstabbing politics when you are rushing through a very time-limited heist. i know that it's the first in a trilogy, but the sheer number of factions and names is very large for a ~400 page trilogy entry. if this were a fucking doorstopper of a series i would have more faith that all will be eventually explained and i will eventually be able to distinguish them all, but i truly don't think she has the pages to do that.

the book's most frequent reviewer praise is that most of the core (but still! very wide! there are so many goddamn names!) cast are colonized or otherwise oppressed people, and i must give this book props for including a bisexual man in the ragtag crew. i read up to the first hundred pages to the first twist, and when the person who joins them at the twist has a voice that is not distinct from the existing gang’s, who are already not distinct from each other, i put the book down. a brief excerpt that does not serve this point very well but serves the following paragraph's point

this book felt like someone describing their dnd campaign to me. people on goodreads do love this book so i'm sure it does eventually deliver on the heist and found family aspects, but it's simply not for me.

bought this here in houston over the summer ( i think) not sure where

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watching

House on Haunted Hill (1959, Castle). this was so charming!!!

"it’s a pity you didn’t know when you started playing murder…that i was playing too." vincent price truly is that bitch. his scenes with his fourth wife in the film, carol ohmart, are electric. they hate each other so much. they've tried to kill each other so many times. she laughs when he reminds her how she poisoned him with arsenic. the sex has got to be insane.

this is a public domain movie that's embedded in its own wikipedia page, lol, but there are various restorations of varying quality floating around.

the exterior shots of the "old, ugly, moldering house" are the frank lloyd wright ennis house in LA, which made me shriek bc it is a famously light/airy/sundrenched building. (exterior wikipedia, interiors here).

thank u @americanwwhore for logging it on letterboxd recently and making me go "oh hey i should watch that too"

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playing

not technically fallow but i don't have an interesting story to tell about how i'm trying to get a specific set of genshin impact achievements

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making

hey remember this baby blanket? i also forgot about it but now we’re up to 7/10 repeats. i may actually get this out before the child turns one

every time i make these sheet pan chicken thighs i arrange them like the isle of man coat of arms bc it amuses me. had to really mangle them to get a good temp reading but i have not yet given myself food poisoning here (fingers remain crossed).

[fresh-and-fruit-y]

Thoughts on House of the Dragon S2E7:

This episode was actually really good! This gives me hope about the future of this show. But I felt the same way about the one good ep in GoT season 8 so we’ll see.

Still no Helaena screen time. At least there are Daeron crumbs.

LOVED the scene with the river lords. Like that is some genuinely good drama + dialogue that goes into the broader themes of the series.

I like that Adam has Seasnake now but I wish he had more agency in it I guess instead of the dragon just choosing him. But good for him!

The Dragonseed scene was tense but it was ruined a bit by the fact that like, there’s only 2 named Targ bastards there…so obviously those two will survive. It was still in interesting scene because it shows a darker side of Rhaenyra. She’s willing to sacrifice all these small folk just to get a dragon rider out of it. This bleeds into her core belief of Targaryen supremacy and a key theme that rulers don’t really care about the small folk. And it shows a bit of irony because her own sons are bastards. I’m glad we’re getting some interesting character work with Rhaenyra finally. Because aside from this the writers have been changing everything they can from the book to make her look good. Anyway, I hope this carries on.

Speaking of, it’s still disappointing that Nettles is not there, because she throws a wrench into the idea of Targaryen racial supremacy and reveals an uglier side of Rhaenyra. There’s still a chance she can show up but I don’t have much hope.

Love Vhaegar. She’s just an old girl that wants to kill people. Is that so wrong?

[twistedtummies2]

"So I will fly into tomorrow! Delighting in their sorrow! As a better day begins...this time, nobody's gonna stop me! No evil's gonna top me! For Wicked Always Wins! A happy ending will be mine, for Wicked Always Wins!"

-Rebecca Mader, "Wicked Always Wins" from "Once Upon a Time"

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I've mentioned my OC Theodore Hamilton, a.k.a. "Theo" for short, several times in the past. However, I've never had any art of him aside from a concept sketch made by my friend @belliesandburps. Well, now I can finally offer a reference image of sorts for him, courtesy of another dear friend, @twisted-brainrot. Theodore is based on the Wicked Witch of the West from "The Wizard of Oz," taking particular inspiration from the version in the film "Oz the Great and Powerful." (Largely because that version is a Disney property.) At first encounter, Theodore definitely seems to live up to his inspiration's nasty reputation: he is standoffish and curt at his best moments, and really, REALLY mean-spirited at his worst. He's very prickly, vindictive, and his moods range from skulking and sneering to maniacally cackling like a madman as he watches others struggle. He legitimately seems to enjoy watching people feel miserable, and he's very, VERY spiteful, sometimes to a petty degree: do anything to upset him, and you may have trouble on the horizon. In typical fashion, however, Theodore isn't all bad: the truth is that he's just a very lonely, cynical, pessimistic sort who feels wronged by the world around him, so he lashes out against what he perceives as an unfair universe. He thinks of himself as someone inferior in a lot of ways, but he doesn't want others to see him as such, so he does his best to be as "wicked" as possible as a sort of defense mechanism. Part of his eternal disappointment is that, unlike most of the other students at Night Raven College, Theo actually is NOT proud to be a member of NRC, and only attends the school because he effectively feels he has no other choice. He's quick to anger and tries to avoid getting attached to people as a result. Think of him as sort of a much more evil version of Jack: a tsundere with a sadistic streak. Once you get past his vicious side, his vulnerabilities become more apparent. Theodore's most noteworthy skill in magic is his talent on flying broomsticks. He's a flying ace; an exceptionally skilled broom rider who prides himself on his speed and versatility in the air. He is at his most genuinely happy when he's on a broom, racing through the wind. His Unique Magic is called "Fly, My Pretties!" which summons a number of shadowy creatures that resemble Flying Monkeys. These Shadow Monkeys serve as his minions, working under his will, but he can only summon them a certain number of times within a certain time limit before he expends too much magical energy. One last thing about Theo: while not necessarily a predatory sort, he DOES have a massive sweet tooth. It's actually a fact he's embarrassed by: he eats candies and pastries very frequently. Yet despite all that sugar, he never seems to gain much weight. Go figure. This is one of two images meant as part of a long-delayed trade between myself and TB. You can find my part of the trade here. If you're reading this, thank you so, So, SO much, TB! This was beyond worth the wait! <3

[hydrazimm]

MY JOURNEY TO KPTM BANGI

Weekly Journal: My Journey to KPTM Bangi

Week 1: The Beginning of a New Chapter

This week marked the start of my journey to KPTM Bangi. I received my SPM results, and honestly, they weren’t as good as I had hoped. I felt a mix of relief and disappointment when I found out I could still get into college. Initially, I was set on pursuing Electrical Engineering, a field that fascinated me. However, when the courses were announced, I was assigned to something entirely different. I felt lost and uninterested, doubting whether I should continue my studies at all.

My friend suggested that I consider joining STPM, which offered a variety of pathways. At first, I was hesitant; it didn’t align with my original plans. But as I thought about my options, I realized that exploring different avenues could lead me to something I genuinely enjoy. This week was filled with uncertainty, but it also sparked a glimmer of hope for what was to come.

Week 2: A New Challenge

I decided to take the plunge and enroll in STPM as my next step toward furthering my education. I was assigned to the Science Social course, which initially felt like a fresh start. The first few classes went well; I understood what the lecturers were explaining, and my classmates were friendly. I felt hopeful that this could be a good fit for me.

However, as the months rolled on, the workload began to weigh heavily on me. Assignments piled up, and I struggled to keep up. To make matters worse, my group was filled with free riders who didn’t contribute at all, leaving me feeling isolated and overwhelmed. After a tough first semester filled with stress and frustration, I made the difficult decision to leave STPM. I felt defeated but knew I had to prioritize my mental health.

Week 3: Finding Clarity

This week was tough. I wrestled with frustration over my decision to leave STPM. I questioned whether I was making a huge mistake and what my next move would be. But in the midst of that frustration, a new light began to emerge. I took some time to reflect on my interests and strengths, and I realized that it was okay to take a different path.

I began researching alternative courses and eventually found KPTM Bangi. Their programs aligned more closely with my interests, and I felt a spark of excitement again. It was a reminder that setbacks can lead to better opportunities. As I filled out my application, I felt a sense of renewed purpose and determination. This journey may have started with doubt, but I am now hopeful about what lies ahead at KPTM Bangi.

[haz3-daz3]

I've never seen anyone write for Fate before, I'd be really happy to request from you if it's alright with you. If a request is okay with you, could the reader be an ocarina player who was shunned for playing where she came from? She's forced to enter the Holy Grail war and summons Astolfo. Reader apologizes to Astolfo often over time as she feels she'll let him down. She reveals she really just wanted to be a musician, and Astolfo becomes supportive of her goal. For the first time, reader feels reassures that her dream was worth chasing.

I gotchu covered!

Hope this is to your likinggg (￣ω￣)

im so sorry in advanced if Astolfo's OOC (ಥ﹏ಥ)

There are also a ton of other ocarinas so I uh chose the 12-hole ones because hey, Charlemagne’s 12 Paladins, ya know?

I also have no experiences with ocarinas so im sorry if the depiction is lacking (ﾉω･､)

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Astolfo x OcarinaPlayer!Reader

"Join the Holy Grail War, they said, it would be fun they said. Well no they didn't say that, more like they pushed me into it so, ha, I guess..."

Y/N sat in one of the sterile rooms of this secretly-owned-by-the-Mages' Association-motel. One where her parents specifically got for her since...well, she's the one representing the family in the War. The Holy Grail War.

The Servant she summoned; perpetually perky, pink-haired paladin only hummed in response. A gauntlet-wearing hand scratching the side of his rather pretty, fair-skinned face as he processed this information.

Rider Class Servant. True Name Astolfo, One of Charlemagne’s Twelve Paladins. Rider of The Hippogriff. And apparently a cross-dresser no thanks to a certain fellow Paladin going insane, but details, details.

"I see." He said, it was pretty generic, and it honestly sort of grated on Astolfo's nerves too. "For what it's worth, I think you're doing well as my Master." He tried; optimistic purple-pink eyes trained on his Master's face who in turn just shrugged, clearly not convinced. "For now, that is." She said, eyes suddenly finding the corner of the room interesting. “Just you wait, I’ll let you down eventually…” She muttered, more to herself than to him but he still heard her.

He crossed his arms, a sigh leaving his lips as he looked around the room. The white sheets of the bed, brown wood furniture, some strange colored shell-looking object with holes, tiled floors—

Hey wait a moment.

Astolfo perked up in curiosity at the vaguely hair dryer shaped trinket on the end table of the bed, right beside where his Master sat. His footsteps light as he came near, picking it up and noticing the 12-holes around it. But purpose did it serve?

“That’s my ocarina.” His Master said, finally not looking as glum. A slight sheen in her non-battle-hardened eyes, her attention completely on the thing he held. “An ocarina?” While the Grail did give Astolfo basic knowledge about the era he’s summoned in, he’s not entirely sure what an ocarina is. Still confused on what those 12-holes are for. “Is it for decoration?”

“No, silly.” His Master chuckled, looking nothing like that girl who was so insistent that she’d disappoint as his Master. “Here let me show you,” she said, gently taking the ocarina as she grasped it with both hands and placed her faintly pink lips on the “handle”? Astolfo does not know his ocarina anatomy.

She blew, and a tune came out. “It’s an instrument? Amazing…” Astolfo said, his voice trailing off. Noticing how his Master seemed to be encouraged by his interest.

“My peers don’t think it’s amazing; a waste of time, they call it.” Y/N said, shoulders sagging but she still held the ocarina like it was her greatest treasure.

Astolfo bristled at that, a waste of time? Preposterous, something that brings joy to someone was not a waste of time to the cross-dressing Paladin. “Why don’t you play me something, Master? I wanna hear a tune!” He said, hoping to somewhat cheer her up.

Y/N hesitated, looking at him, expecting mockery, but all she saw was genuine curiosity. Well, he was a knight, not to mention her Servant so maybe he’s just being nice, she rationalized. Not really used to the earnestness in those rosy eyes.

“Okay, just one.” She said, placing her lips on the windway, opting for that one song she first learned. Though she highly doubts Astolfo knows what a video game is.

Astolfo sat down beside her, wondering how she was to play with the wind instrument. But he didn’t need to dwell long before a sweet tune filled the room, silencing his more chaotic thoughts and his evaporation of reason. Sanity intact.

Lashes fluttered close, fingers deftly covering and freeing the air from the numerous holes and producing different tones. He still doesn’t know how this ocarina worked, all he knows is that whatever she’s doing, it’s soothing.

Astolfo couldn’t help the tapping on his foot, or the subtle sway as he let himself be lost in the music, breathing evenly.

But it was quickly silenced when both of them suddenly felt a presence. Astolfo could sense a Servant, the stench of mana unmistakable. And while anger never came quick to him, tonight, he was irritated. His Master didn’t finish the song.

His lance appeared in his hand in a swirl of wind, cloak donning his shoulders. And even Y/N looked dejected she didn’t finish her playing, taking a deep breath as she stood. “Let’s get to it, then.” She said, eyes determined and trained on Astolfo.

Astolfo grinned, a shot of smugness as he leveled the lance, resting on his shoulder. “Okay, and after that, could you finish the song for me?”

Y/N looked surprised at that, freezing a moment before she returned his smile, a sight that further gave Astolfo a rush of bravado.

“I’ll play you as many songs as you want.”