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lulutaylorsimaginarium · 1 year ago

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The Chain

Summary: When the guys get stuck in a situation and hunted down by a drug lord. Frankie makes a call he really doesn’t want to make to the only person that can help them

Words:1,834

Warnings: “creator chooses not to use warnings.” If you click Keep Reading, that means you agree that you’re the right age to handle mature themes. We handle our own triggers with kindness and grace

AN: Mind any grammar mistakes even though the story has been checked. The author is dyslexic and it is the wonders of her brain.

PART ONE

PART TWO

She sat at the bar in an empty, hole in the wall watering hole listening to a song that she danced to in Havana years ago. It put her in a better mood thinking of the man she danced with. The man that had stolen her heart even though she hadn’t wanted to fall in love. The song and the memory of the man lessened the rage in the very same heart. She started to sway to the music with an impossibly sweet drink in her hand. Gabby couldn’t forget the predicament she was in and of course there was the man sitting beside her, sipping his beer

“Why don’t you drink?”

“Allergic reaction”

“Oh yeah?”

“I break out in hand cuffs”

Will didn’t believe her, but he let her get away with the lie. There was no doubt that Gabby was tough, but she wasn’t the normal type of tough. It wasn’t a rage filled tough. It was a stubbornness. It was a ‘watch me’ tough but as she sat beside him dancing to the music while still sitting her seat. She intrigued him.

“What’s with that smile?”

“Memories”

“Oh-uh”

“Knew a guy”

“Cuban?”

“Puerto Rican but we spent a lot of time in Cuba”

“Dancing in the streets?”

“Yeah. In Cuba, in Barcelona, Portugal”

“So he was smooth, huh?”

“You could say that” she laughed “Still is”

“What happened?”

“He’s an aid worker. It’s hard to keep a relationship going when you’re pulling people out of the pits a hell half the time and on the other side of the planet”

“I don’t know how you do it”

“I only did it for a moment in time. I’m too empathic. It took a lot out of me. Especially when we came across kids, you know? I want to adopt ‘em and take them all home. It doesn’t work that way”

“Now you organise?”

“Correct”

“I can see why Pope needs you. Even if he is an ass”

Gabby laughed pulling the tie out of her hair. The colour reminded him of a glass of red wine or maybe that was the green neon sign above her that was making it look that way.

“He is right about one thing”

“What’s that?”

“I do owe Frankie”

“From what I know. Which isn’t a lot. He was doing his job when he found you”

“No but he broke protocol. They deemed the mission too high risk. Especially where I was but he still did it. He could have been fired or lost everything. He didn’t even know me at the time”

“He wouldn’t have it any other way Gabby. He loves ya”

“Ugh” she sighed rubbing her forehead “Why did it have to be Costa Rojas?”

“We didn’t pick the target”

“Santiago did”

“Are you noticing a theme?”

“At least Costa’s base isn’t in Brazil. You’ve got some distance. How did you move the palettes anyway?”

“We had transit vans but the guys driving got shot up and so did the vans”

“So he dropped you off in the slums with that much money”

“No one living there would be dumb enough to steal it. Rojas knows that. They are also smart enough that if they see something they know thats not for them to know. They’re not going to talk”

“You’ve got me there”

“Did you really stab Andrews with a pocket knife?” he laughed asking

“He grabbed my ass repeatedly after I asked him not to do it. Damn straight I did”

“Why didn’t you tell Frankie?”

“I wanted Andrews to stop. I didn’t want him to die. Anyway. That was a long time ago”

“Even Pope would have stopped him” She gave him an epic eye roll which only made Will practically fall over laughing “What is it with you two?”

“I don’t know. I swear I’ve tried to get along with him. I swear but he does shit like this. He thinks he’s smarter than everybody. God, even his breathing sometimes grates on me. He’s the most self-important jerk I’ve ever met”

“We’re not meaning to turn your life upside down, Gabs”

“But didn’t you guys do this a few years ago. How much money is enough money?”

“We didn’t keep it, babe”

“What are you talking about?”

“We gave the money we did get away with to Tom’s kids. They don’t have to worry about anything anymore”

She looked him wide eyed and silent for maybe the first time since she landed. Gabby shook her head before a stream of swear words flew out of her mouth.

“I hate this and now I hate you”

“Is that a yes?”

“I just don’t know how I can help you”

Will nodded his head understood where she was coming from. He got why she didn’t want to use anything with the non-profits name on it. They helped people that really needed it.

“We’re up a creek”

“Walking away isn’t an option?” she asked

“Nope”

“God damn it”

They’ll have to hide it and then move it and hide it while moving it. If Rojas found out their end wouldn’t be swift. She didn’t want that on her head. She needed something that the locals and authorises wouldn’t bat an eye at. She needed transportation and she needed it fast. Will watched the clogs in her head move fast, impossibly fast

“Gabs?”

She covered his mouth with her hand

“Shh, I’m thinking”

She moved her hand and grabbed her phone before walking outside.

He watched her walk back and forth in the sidewalk for a while. Making calls, looking up this on her phone she popped her head back in the door.

“Hey handsome, do you know how to hot wire a car?”

“Yes”

“Let’s go but it’s not going to be a quick trip”

Will didn’t ask any questions. He just did what he was told. With women like Gabby that was the safest way to survive. That was truth in Will’s experience, at least.

Gabby and Will had been gone for five hours, the sun was dangerously close to rising and there hadn’t been no word from either of them. They knew that Will wouldn’t leave them, well he wouldn’t leave Benny. Frankie was starting to worry and Santiago was starting to curse her name, in his head at least.

“What if Rojas caught up with them?” Benny voice all their fears

“We would have heard by now” Santiago lied

“I shouldn’t have called her, Pope”

“Well, you did Frank and here we are. Will wouldn’t jump ship”

“Either would she, man”

“We have to come up with another plan”

“They will be here” Benny told them.

Suddenly an old beat up people mover stopped outside the favela. Two squeaky doors shut loudly before the missing two were standing back in their doorway

“Honey, we’re home” she told them slightly seductively

“Where have you been?”

“Cleaning up your mess, Garcia. You bozos wanna come help us unload?” She tossed an empty hessian coffee bean sack at him “We are in Brazil after all”

“What if they cut them open, Gabriela?”

“That’s why we stole full bags of coffee beans Also. Place the real beans on top of the bags full of money. They’ll cut into the bags we want to them to cut into”

“Two more van are showing up at five thirty this afternoon. So we have to move” Will told them.

“Leave ten grand out of the bags for the vans”

“Ten?”

“Yeah Garcia. For five grand we were going to get endless questions. Ten grand brought silence. You okay with that?”

“Guess I have to be”

“That’s what I like. Gratitude”

She rolled her eyes as he walked outside. Frankie stepped in front of her before pulling her into a hug

“Thank you”

“You’re still in trouble but I love you”

They both walked outside holding on to each other for dear life. Everybody quietly unpacked the van of empty bags. The tension that they had all been choking on was leaving them but Santiago just couldn’t help himself

“Where are we going to take this coffee when we are finished here, oh wise one?”

“I haven’t figured that part out yet”

“If only someone knew some else in Puerto Rico” Will answered almost gleefully

“Nope”

“Sebastian” Frankie answered pointing at her

“No. We are not getting Seb involved”

“He would do it, Gab”

“Who’s Sebastian” Pope practically spat

“Her fella” Frankie teased

“He’s not my fella”

“Used to be”

“I don’t know where he is right now. He’s an aid worker for Christ’s sake. He could be anywhere”

“Could you find out though?” Will smiled.

“If any person is more connected than you. Its Seb” Frank pleaded

Gabby rolled her eyes before pulling her phone out of her pocket, playfully growling as she walked outside.

The group started packing the bags with cash as Santiago stood near the window, listening to the conversation. Her voice was softer, you could hear the affection as she spoke. That was until she walked around the corner.

He walked over to Frankie

“Can we trust this guy?”

“Absolutely”

“I don’t like it”

“We are going to need more people to get this home and he would do anything for her. He’s a good guy. You wanted her for her connections, right?”

There was an uncomfortable silence filled the room as they continued loading the cash. Before she was standing in the doorway again.

“Bad news is that he is in Honduras. Good news is that if we can get to Venezuela. He can store it for us until we make other plans”

“How much did you tell him?” Santiago asked, probably sharper than he intended

“I said that we are in trouble, and it was a no questions situations”

No one said anything.

She hadn’t slept, she was at the end of her tether and likely to blow. Instead of sleeping, she packed bags with cash.

There were three beat up, different colours vans rolled up at five thirty. Gabby paid an elderly man the money and waited until they were long gone before the guys packed the vans. She lent up against the green building. She tried to help the guys carry the bags, but the guys weren’t having any of it.

Once everything was carefully packed. Dummy coffee beans placed on top and around, they all felt a tiny bit better. Maybe it was being on the move that made them feel safer. There was still just under five days of driving ahead of them.

Although the thought of seeing Sebastian at the end of all of it made her feel better.

She was pale, she was tired, and she was trying to cover it.

Everybody piled into the vans before Frankie stood in front of her picking her up at the knees, tossing her over his shoulder

“I wanna drive”

“No way. You haven’t slept in a day. Forget it. You’re a passenger, Princess”

“Ugh”

He placed her in the car and she was asleep by the time they left the city

#pedro pascal #triple frontier #santiago garcia x oc #santiago garcia #romanticism #will miller #ben miller #benny miller #frankie morales #oscar isaac #garrett hedlund #charlie hunnam #netflix #the chain

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mlobsters · 1 year ago

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supernatural s9e2 devil may care (w. andrew dabb)

isn't it nice to get resurrected or whatever the fuck that was with abaddon naked but with your full face of makeup on

CROWLEY Torture. Brilliant. Can't wait to see Sam in stilettos and a leather bustier, really putting the S-A-M into S&M. Honestly, boys. What are you gonna do to me that I don't do to myself just for kicks every Friday night?

okay.

there's this little drum hit the composer uses sometimes that i swear is used exactly the same way in hannibal and it's been driving me slightly batty for a number of episodes. because can i dredge up a hannibal scene that uses what i'm thinking of...? well. this isn't it exactly but it's in a similar (or same) percussion instrument and reverb/effects on it

supernatural s9e2 / hannibal s2e8 - dramatic drums of doom

lol the transition of sound to the hannibal clip was so smooth i missed the drums i was trying to listen for in the spn one. sigh. this ... is why this watching one episode thing turns into a 2-3 hour ordeal.

SERGEANT (cont'd) So unless you can give me one good reason you got a couple of pretty-boy agents poking around my crime scene, I'm gonna put them in cuffs and spank your ass raw, understand?

all right. they are very pretty, can't argue with that

CROWLEY Oh, I know plenty. For example, I know she'd love you. Skinny, submissive... you're just her type.

crowley's in a mood. needs that weekly torture wank seems like

TRACY I watched a demon slaughter my parents. And the whole time it talked about how it was celebrating. Some dumb kid let Lucifer out of his cage.

that was unnecessary

kevin's a smart cookie, he better not be falling for any of crowley's bullshit

LOL practically a nip slip with how bundled up they usually are

ABADDON So appreciate you boys coming when I call. I think that's what I like most about you Winchesters. You're so obedient. And suicidally stupid. I like that, too.

DEAN Are we gonna fight or make out? 'Cause I'm getting some real mixed signals here. ABADDON I want Crowley. Or what's left of him. DEAN Yeah? What's in it for me? ABADDON I let you die. You give me Crowley's head, and I will snap your neck, quick and clean. You won't feel a thing, trust me. DEAN And if I tell you to get bent? ABADDON Oh. Well... you know, I've loved this body since the moment I first saw it. You're the perfect vessel, Dean. You give a girl all sorts of nasty ideas. So go ahead and play hard to get, and I'll peel off this "no demons allowed" tattoo and blow smoke up your ass. DEAN Ooh. Well, I gotta tell you, between you and me, it is a horror show up there. ABADDON It can get worse. Trust me. 'Cause once I'm on top, I'll make you watch. And I'll use your body. Have you ever felt an infant's blood drip down your chin? Or listened to a girl scream as you rip her guts out? Because you will. It's you and me, lover. We'll have a grand old time.

i don't really see all the threatened sexualized violence against dean in the same way as some people (which i mean, for me is good, because it's upsetting when it does read that way to me). this one is by far way more graphic and clear in intent and distressing. up there with hallucifer's constant mentioning of rape to sam.

angel possessed eyes are cool. janky wings with feathers actively falling off made me snort

ZEKE!SAM You are troubled, still. DEAN Yeah, it's just that, uh... this is on me. I was the one who talked Sam out of boarding up Hell. Okay? So every demon deal, every kill that they make... well, you're looking at the person who let it happen. ZEKE!SAM You were protecting your brother. I am in Sam's head. Everything he knows, I know. And I know that what you did, you did out of love. DEAN Yeah, uh, look, Zeke—I'm gonna call you Zeke—I'm not really with the whole, uh, love, and... love. ZEKE!SAM But it is why I said yes.

i am, however, here for someone making dean uncomfortable talking about his very obvious feelings about sam

DEAN This is nuts. I mean, you're Sam, but you're not Sam, and normally he's the one I'm talking to about all this stuff. I'm trusting you, Zeke. I just gotta hope that you're one of the good guys.

i'm sure it'll all be fine, dean

CROWLEY Please. Your little plan to have me stew in my own... delicious... juices... pathetic. You want intel. I want things, too. Maybe we can come to some kind of arrangement. Quid pro quo, gentlemen.

very hannibal of you

supernatural s9e2 / hannibal s1e13

"Savoureux" is the thirteenth episode of Season 1, and overall the thirteenth produced hour of Hannibal. It originally aired on June 20, 2013.

Episode # Season 9, Episode 2 First aired October 15, 2013

funny. the very special episode that everything reminds nic of hannibal

DEAN Well... if she is alive, then she's dead. In every way that matters, she's dead, Kevin, I'm sorry. I know you're dying to bolt, man. I get it. But out that door, it's demons, and it's angels, and they would all love to get their hands on a prophet. So even with Crowley here, this is still the safest place for you. It just is. And we need you, man. KEVIN Because I'm useful. DEAN Because you're family. After all the crap we've been through, after all the good that you've done... man, if you don't think that we would die for you... I don't know what to tell you. Because you, me, Sam and Cas, we are all we've got. But hey, if none of that matters to you, then I won't stop you.

well i do kind of love how quick dean is to adopt someone, this kind of emotional scene with kevin feels a little out of left field. like i can see the components that led to it, but kevin was out here being miserable and tortured by himself, dean gave some encouragement and drugs. but for dean just gettin all squirrely over ezekial saying he loves sam, now he's gonna have a heart to heart with kevin? i mean, in dean-land i guess talking mushy about family is acceptable, but the L word is not.

DEAN Crap. We're living in a freaking sitcom. What about you, how's the uh, the engine running? SAM Honestly, um, I feel better than I have in a long time. I mean, I realize it's crazy out there, and we have trouble coming for us, but I look around and I see friends, and family. I am happy with my life, for the first time in... forever. I-I am, I really am. It's just, things are... things are good.

LAYING IT ON A LITTLE THICK, SHOW.

choke back that guilt there dean-o

#supernatural #spnwatch #spn 9x02 #andrew dabb #hannibal #brian reitzell #he did the score for hannibal and it's slightly divisive because a lot of it is pretty discordant but i love it #i have had many thoughts and feelings about the hannibal score see the link at the bottom of my pinned post if you want to know more :P #tv score #spnclip

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dontaskmehowdontaskmewhy · 1 year ago

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A somewhat brief, but NOT SPOILER FREE Ladybug and Chat Noir movie review:

(I’m sure the kids this was aimed for enjoyed it better than I did.)

I watched it on Netflix.

The voice acting was great as usual. The singers had good voices too. THE ANIMATION WAS GORGEOUS.

But some technical stuff kept me from enjoying it as much as I could have. And of course, I have my gripes like every other person. And I am older than the target demographic. The movie wasn’t BAD, it just wasn’t for me. The way the plot was rolled out wasn’t what I’m used to.

I already knew it was going to be a musical. But I didn’t have high hopes, because of that one Christmas musical episode the series did a few years back. I admit that at the time of that episode airing, the voice actor for Adrien wasn’t great at singing. And if the actor is not a singer, I understand using a different voice for the songs. And the singers for the songs are different from the voice actors in THIS movie. And the singer for Adrien n had a similar enough tone to just barely match to the voice actor… But it really jarred me just how different the singer for Marinette was to the voice actor. Don’t get me wrong, the singer was really good at singing the songs, but it was blatantly obvious that It was a different person singing for her, and that the tone was just too different. and I’m sure the voice actor for Marinette already could sing? so why didn’t she? I think this part of the production process might’ve been done or around the time they were fighting for equal pay and such with the production company, so I can see how it happened I guess?

anyway, when it comes to the script, other than the songs I personally thought it was pretty bare-bones. It showed all the moments they wanted people to see throughout the series, but there is almost no transitional period between the parts. first there was the learning of powers and becoming a team, then SUDDENLY it was the last fight and they don’t need their powers anymore and reveal themselves to each other? One tiny montage was not enough to fill in that big of a jump and make it smooth. They tried to cram all the seasons into one film this time. What I see as a young adult who’s studied film and script editing isn’t the same as a child who was the target audience. I get that. Doesn’t mean I don’t still feel frustrated over it, but eh it is what it is. The transition of Gabriel ignoring/controlling his son to suddenly being worried when he came home (and not giving a full moment for us to see him react)didn’t feel like it was justified. And they really put too much time into Gabriel’s reasoning for his crimes, and putting it at the VERY END didn’t feel right. But then at the end when Gabriel is ousted they don’t show the repercussions? Not even him in jail? They just announced it was him on the news and then go back to the storyline of the “dance” and Adrien is perfectly fine?like, OKAYYYYY I GUESS. 👀

But.

Guys.

“Save one life save the world?” The throw away “Master Fu” character we got in this movie was ridiculous. I can’t express it more without making this post way too long.

***And btw Gabriel was only hotter because they actually gave him a decent neck size and (occasionally) 5 o’clock shadow. He was a great singer…and he had actual emotions at the end.

Okay. I’ve said my piece. I’ll get off the soap box now.

#miraculous ladybug #ladybug and chat noir #spoilers #miraculous movie #miraculous spoilers #gabriel agreste #chat noir #zag

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gizopedia · 3 days ago

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Introduction: The New Kid on the Block So, Google’s at it again, droppin' their latest and greatest—the Google Pixel Watch 3. Now, I know what you’re thinkin’: “Do we need another smartwatch in the mix?” And hey, fair question. With all the options, knowing what’s worth your time (and money) and what’s just noise is hard. Here's a "Product Overview" section for the "Google Pixel Watch 3 Review," keeping it conversational and engaging: Product Overview: Meet the Google Pixel Watch 3 Alright, let's get into what this Google Pixel Watch 3 is all about. This ain’t just some fancy wrist bling; Google’s tryin' to carve out a spot in the smartwatch scene with this one. It’s got a sleek, round design that’s easy on the eyes, a snappy interface, and a bunch of health and fitness features that could make your old watch look like a paperweight. Design: We’re talkin’ about a smooth, minimalistic look that’s all about those clean lines and soft curves. It’s not bulky, so it sits real nice on the wrist without feelin' like you strapped a brick on there. Plus, the bands are swappable, so you can go from gym mode to office chic in no time. Display: Bright, bold, and beautiful. The AMOLED screen is vivid with sharp colors that pop, even in direct sunlight. That always-on display? Yeah, it’s there, and it’s handy as heck when you’re tryna sneak a peek without tappin'. Software & UI: Runs on Wear OS, and it’s like Google finally figured out the smooth-and-snappy recipe. No lag, no hiccups, just buttery transitions between apps. And if you’re used to Google’s ecosystem, that’ll feel like slippin' into your favorite pair of sneakers—comfy and familiar. Health Features: From heart rate monitoring to sleep tracking, it’s all in there. Google even tossed in some advanced stuff like ECG and stress tracking, so whether you’re a fitness junkie or just trying to keep tabs on your daily steps, it’s got ya covered. Performance: Powered by a zippy processor that keeps things moving. No more waitin' around for apps to load or dealin' with that annoying lag when you’re tryin' to do ten things at once. Google’s def steppin' up their game here, packin’ this watch with a whole bunch of tech goodies. It's designed to be your all-in-one companion, whether you’re out breakin' a sweat, takin' calls, or just wanna glance at your latest notifications without diggin' your phone out. So far, the Google Pixel Watch 3 seems like it's more than ready to roll with the big dogs. Design & Build: Slicker Than Your Average So first off, this thing looks good. I mean, Google’s nailed that sleek, minimalist vibe. Rounded edges, a nice bright display, and hey, it’s got that always-on thing goin' which is just chef’s kiss for glances. The build feels premium. You pick it up, and yep, that’s some solid craftsmanship right there. Strap options? Oh, you got choices, my friend. From sportier looks to something a lil' more dressed up. They got ya covered. The display’s sharp—like really sharp. We’re talkin' vibrant colors, deep blacks. Whether you’re checkin' the time or obsessively countin' steps, it's all crystal clear. Performance & Features: All About That Action Now, this is where the magic happens, or well, where it’s supposed to happen, right? The Google Pixel Watch 3 ain't just about lookin' good; it's gotta bring that A-game. Smooth UI—thank god. None of that laggy stuff we’ve seen in older models. Google’s kept it snappy. Packed with sensors, so if you’re into trackin' every lil’ heartbeat, step, or calorie, it’s got your back. Voice control’s on point. Google Assistant is practically your best friend on this thing. Just speak and bam, there’s your answer. Battery Life: Decent but Not Mind-Blowin’ Okay, so here’s the tea. Battery life? It’s... alright. Not gonna lie, you’re probably gonna be juicin' this thing up every night. If you’re one of those all-day, always-on types, might wanna keep that charger handy.

Lasts through the day easy, but don’t expect miracles if you’re pushin' it with all the features runnin'. Fast charging though, so at least you ain't stuck waitin' around. Quick zap, and you’re good to go. Health Tracking: More Than Just Steps Google’s packin' in some legit health features here. You got your basics—steps, calories, all that jazz—but also some cool extras. Heart rate monitor? Check. And it seems pretty accurate, too. Sleep tracking, stress tracking, even ECG! It’s like havin' a mini doc on your wrist. Some new fitness modes are tossed in, so whatever your workout jam is, this watch is prob gonna have it. Connectivity & Apps: Smooth Operator Connectivity’s solid—pairs up nice and easy, whether you’re rockin' Android or iOS. And apps? You got access to a bunch right off the bat. You got your basics. Music, messages, calendar—stuff like that. But hey, third-party support’s not bad either. Got Spotify? You’re covered. Need a weather app? No problem. Comparison with Competitors: How Does the Pixel Watch 3 Stack Up? Alright, so we’ve seen what the Google Pixel Watch 3 brings to the table, but how does it hold up against the big players? We’re talking about the likes of the Apple Watch Series 9, Samsung Galaxy Watch 6, and the Fitbit Sense 3. Let’s see if Google’s got what it takes to throw down with the competition or if it’s just tryin' to keep up. Apple Watch Series 9 Now, you know Apple’s not playin’ around. The Series 9’s got that killer ecosystem integration, buttery-smooth performance, and more apps than you’ll ever need. But hey, if you’re not all-in on the Apple life, it can feel kinda…exclusive, ya know? That’s where the Pixel Watch 3 shines with its cross-platform love, working pretty smoothly with both Android and iOS. Plus, while Apple’s nailed fitness and health tracking, Google’s catchin’ up fast with its solid lineup of sensors and features. But, let’s be real—Apple still owns the crown when it comes to app availability and customization. Samsung Galaxy Watch 6 Samsung’s Galaxy Watch 6 is like that dependable old friend who’s got your back no matter what. It’s got the looks, the battery life, and that whole suite of Samsung Health stuff that’s tough to beat. Where the Pixel Watch 3 fights back is in its sleek, lightweight design and a UI that feels more intuitive if you’re used to Google’s world. Performance-wise, they're pretty neck and neck, but Samsung’s got a slight edge in battery—yeah, the Pixel Watch 3 still needs that nightly charge. But hey, if you're deep in Google’s ecosystem, you might just lean towards the Pixel for that seamless experience. Fitbit Sense 3 Fitbit is all about health, health, and more health. The Sense 3’s packin' some hardcore wellness tools, like stress management and advanced sleep metrics. So, if you’re super into tracking every lil’ thing your body’s doin', Fitbit’s got the goods. But the Google Pixel Watch 3? It's got that sweet spot between smartwatch features and fitness tracking without going full-on fitness freak. Plus, with Google’s smarts behind it, you’re gettin’ more in terms of daily usability—think smart replies, seamless Assistant integration, and better overall productivity stuff. Bottom Line: Where Does Pixel Watch 3 Fit In? So where does that leave the Google Pixel Watch 3? Well, it’s not necessarily toppin' the charts in any one area, but it’s doin' a darn good job of bein' a well-rounded contender. If you’re all about the latest and greatest apps, Apple’s still got the upper hand. For battery and health, Samsung and Fitbit are giving it a run for its money. But the Pixel Watch 3’s got that unique blend of style, smarts, and user-friendly design that makes it a real solid choice—especially if you’re all about that Google life. It’s a jack-of-all-trades kinda deal, which honestly? Not a bad place to be at all. Final Thoughts: The Verdict Alright, the Google Pixel Watch 3—it’s got

that look, it’s got the brains, but does it have your heart? If you’re already in the Google ecosystem or just love the idea of a watch that’s as smart as it is stylish, this might be your next wristcandy. But if you’re all about battery life or want something that’s super app-heavy, maybe you wanna keep shoppin’. Pricing and Value: Is the Google Pixel Watch 3 Worth Your Bucks? Alright, let’s talk money—'cause, at the end of the day, it’s gotta make sense for your wallet too, right? The Google Pixel Watch 3 comes in at a price that’s kinda smack dab in the middle of the pack. Not the cheapest, but it ain’t breaking the bank like some of those other high-end smartwatches. We’re lookin' at a price tag that’s a little north of what you’d pay for an entry-level model but still, way below those premium price tags you get from Apple and Samsung's top models.

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hongkongcrisisupdate · 15 days ago

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Press Release #22: Welcome the New from the Old

To the Great Britain, honorable Government officials Hong Kong and to our beloved citizens of Hong Kong,

I am Li Peng, the Vice Premier of the State Council. In the midst of problems with your concerns, I would like to tell a story about my past.

During the time of my birth, the Chinese were undergoing a revolution, a change that was not accepted by the old. My father – Li was one of those who strive for the new, because it was necessary, for the betterment of China. However, the old silenced him — they killed him because the old cannot accept the new. I was young at the time, I wasn't able to comprehend what happened to my Father, I was just a kid after all — a kid who was a victim because the old cannot accept the new.

While I thought I would grow up without a parental figure, that is when Zhou En Lai and his wife felt sympathy for me; they took me in as their son. They weren't related to me biologically, but were able to afford the same love they would do for their own children. A part of my childhood was ruined because of the revolution, but another part of it was bright, I am able to grow up just like a normal kid would do; all because there is still a little bit of goodness in this unfair world.

Knowing the unbending love Zhou En Lai, my father and also his wife, my mother has given to me. I am motivated, I study hard so that I can grow to be successful; to make them proud. Thanks to my hardwork in my studies, I managed to grow up becoming a hydroelectric engineer. It was all good, but that's when I suddenly felt the need to add another goal in my life. This goal was to ensure that children, youngsters who still have a bright future ahead of them, to be able to live in peace.

My childhood was ruined because of disputes, adult disputes destroying families and involving children. The position I now am in, is not to just gain money, but it's to be in a position where I can directly be involved in change. I want a smooth transition, not only to sustain the economy, but also to prevent hurting the kids too. The Chinese Cabinet are also within the same agreement as me, we want to ensure that in this context of the Hong Kong handover, everything will go smoothly to reduce disputes.

Thus, with that being said, on behalf of the Chinese government and for our children. Let's join hands together to ensure a smooth transition. Changes are not easy for the shift from being under British rule to the Chinese. However, please be rest assured that the Chinese government has your back and we will make the necessary changes to improve Hong Kong to become better. To the British seeing this, I hope you understand and also want to take initiatives, let's settle on an agreement and ensure Hong Kong is on good terms.

Thank you for your time and attention and please place your trust in the Chinese government. We will update you as soon as possible.

Best Regards,

Li Peng

Vice Premier of the State Council

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fractallion · 1 year ago

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🎵 What The Hell Happened

This post was originally published on September 26th 2003. Penned by John Parker - one of the founders of the original Just Good Music Blog. The source was found thanks to <a href=“https://web.archive.org/web/20030101000000*/http://www.justgoodmusic.net” target=“_blank” rel=“noopener noreferrer”>The Internet Archive Wayback Machine.These days it sits in my online archives, but just last month it was 20 years old and I wanted to resurface it, because I always liked it, for me, still holds true. What do you think? AND, I wonder if John would be interested in a twenty years later update? We will see,

Lately I haven’t derived the same pleasure from my music collection, or even music in general, that I’ve been accustomed to my whole life. I’m trying to figure this out.

It used to be simpler, I think. You would reach an age - let’s say 30 on average - and pretty much drop out of the current music scene. Your record collection would begin to age like fine wine. You’d stop going to gigs and reading Rolling Stone and Down Beat, and the station presets in your car were no longer college stations playing the wide range of emerging new stuff, but the major commercial channels playing bands who are all 6 months away from being featured in a Lexus commercial. There was a clear dividing line between the stuff the kids and the grown-ups listened to that has faded, blurred and, finally, today, disappeared.

Leaving aside the impact on today’s teenagers of not really having a musical outlet for those rebellious impulses, where does this leave us? What are our options as we mature in our lifestyles? Do our musical tastes change, or, as I’m beginning to suspect, does the time pressure we’re under in the push for ever-greater productivity at work, quality time with family, expanding our educational horizons and seeking new experiences in our recreation hours force us to rely more and more on commercial filters for access to new music?

Typically we proceed down one of two paths. The first is to go deeper instead of wider. We stick to the same bands that we listened to in our youth, kidding ourselves that we’re still at the bleeding edge. Somehow we allow it to escape our notice that the bands we once thought would lead the revolution and bring down the establishment are now peddling mobile phones. The other route is that we conscientiously seek out new sounds, but we do it in tightly defined context of the ‘Emerging Artists Block’ on KLLC Tuesday nights at 8:00pm. Surrounding ourselves with the familiar, grounding the experience just as firmly in our past. This exposes us to bands that are perhaps a year away from the TV commercial breakthrough, but still clearly well established successes, hardly bands that need our sponsorship, our interest or us.I think it mostly comes down to time.

Certainly the world is a busier place, and cell phones, laptops, Internet access, Blackberrys, pagers and PDAs don’t help. Sometimes technology does us a disservice, and as much as the perpetually connected nature of our modern lives enhances our productivity and responsiveness, I miss the time I used to have alone with my stereo system.

In high school, I spent 80% of my disposable income on my stereo system, Infinity Reference Studio monitors, Marantz receiver, Thorens turntable, and a Nakamichi cassette deck. After school, I would make compilation tapes while doing my homework. I miss lowering the stylus into the record groove, counting the seconds from the end of the previous song and allowing for the delay in engaging the tape deck, winding up the input volumes for smooth transitions between songs and volume-leveling wildly varying album recordings by ear. Today, I can drag-and-drop 10 hours of music into my MP3 player in about 8 seconds. I can save virtual playlists, creating, modifying and deleting compilations instantly. It’s certainly more convenient, but it’s nowhere near as engaging.

In college, I spent 80% of my disposable income on records. Living in a dorm and in an off-campus apartment with roommates, we shared our record collections and commented actively on each others musical tastes. My friends collectively listened to a wide variety of music, and I eagerly devoured every new artist, new style, and new sound in my quest for great musical experiences. Today, I have less time for that, less engagement with my friends in purely recreational activities like listening to music. I miss that.

One nice thing about record albums was that they had two sides. Again, it’s certainly more convenient to have all the music on a CD that can play straight through. And even more so to have them all recorded digitally on the PC. But having an album side that lasts 20-25 minutes forces you to pay attention. You have to get up and turn the record over, which reengages you. Having hours of music queued up, it’s easy to let your mind wander back to the ever-present to-do lists. These days, I too frequently put a new CD on, start listening to it, and realize some time later that the CD is over and I can’t remember anything beyond the first song.

Today, my primary listening venue is my car. It’s not by choice, as it certainly isn’t an ideal listening environment even with the very best automotive stereo equipment. This is the only block of time that I have, however, that is long enough to listen to an entire CD at one time. In the car, though, I inevitably wind up spending all my time on the cell phone. And there’s simply no getting around the fact that your attention is going to be demanded by your driving, and the insanity of other drivers trapped in the 90 minute commute to Silicon Valley - flying down I-280 at 90mph mandates focused attention.

Nor am I alone in this. I was over at a friend’s house last weekend doing some dedicated music listening - something that has happened all too infrequently of late. I have been thinking about these issues for a while, and decided to reach out and see if I could force some engagement. Miguel and Diana are from Brazil, and I brought up Brazilian music and they volunteered to play some of their collection for us. So we packed up some food and joined them for a musical lunch on Saturday. We heard Oswaldo Montenegro, Milton Nascimento, Chico Buarqueâ, all great stuff. Miguel had, of course, ripped all the songs to his computer, and we were listening to it over some pretty crappy computer speakers. Hardly ideal. I complimented him on the selection, though, and his response was yeah, you should hear it in my car! This is just wrong.

So now, understanding the issues a little better, I see a clear need to reengage my musical sensibilities. I think, for me, this means two things.

First, I need to plan some dedicated music time. It can’t be an after-thought any more, because my free time for ad hoc recreational activities is asymptotically approaching zero. If it’s a priority, it needs to be reflected in my calendar. I need to put some thought into that, too, because I’m going to have a hard time defending hours of just sitting in the Lazy-Boy listening to CDs. I need to be doing something with the music. Maybe it’s time to develop a digital archiving system. Maybe wire the house for sound, including the patios outside. Maybe some stereo equipment upgrades are in order. Maybe I need to spend some time classifying my current music collection, and expanding it into new areas. Maybe write some music reviews I can share with friends or even wider audiences.

Secondly, it’s also clearly time to get back into concert mode. I need to find the local clubs with live music, watch the major venues for show announcements and plan my calendar around some key concerts. And there needs to be a focus on new music. Nothing gets the blood flowing like watching the band hit their zone on stage, rocking out and feeling the music flowing through the crowd, that sense of being there that not even the finest stereo equipment can reproduce.

Music is too important to me to let it simply fade into the background of my life. It’s a part of who I am and who I want to be, and it deserves some attention. We’re going on a quest to get reacquainted. My foray into Brazilian music my friends last weekend was the first conscious step on this journey. I’ll send you some notes from the road from time to time.

This post was originally published on September 26th 2003, penned by John Parker - one of the founders of the original Just Good Music Blog. The source was found thanks to The Internet Archive Wayback Machine.

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aalt-ctrl-del · 1 year ago

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also pretty wild how conservatives will see a situation where a parent to a kid(s), decides they are switching gender and converting - in whatever way to the other gender - and have the audacity to go

"Oh, the poor kid of parent is traumatized. This is traumatizing to the child. The friends and significant other are supportive and happy for gender transitioning fam, but that poor child. They are traumatized. How will they cope. Poor baby."

I MAY NOT BE AN EXPECT ON CHILD TRAUMA BUT, ITS WILD, BUT HEAR ME OUT HERE

I am not an expect but I can think of more traumatizing things parents could do to or around their kids, that is more traumatizing than one parent switching genders.

For instance - I am not an expect on children, but I think... you should probably feed them, or provide food. I think that it is abusive and traumatic to withhold food from your kid. Or also.... maybe don't beat children, or use corporal punishment. ESPECIALLY if your kid is being a twat, or has made a minor mistake. I think - as someone who was once a child - that it is not good to beat your child, break their arm, or intentionally hurt them to the point they wind up in the ER in a cast or in stitches. And if someone could back me on this, but also don't emotionally destroy your kid by gaslighting them or telling them they'll never amount to anything, or shame them. I mean, we could argue if a parent is switching genders, and how there is emotional damage when a parent is doing something the child may not be accustomed to.

BUT HERE ME OUT.

It might also be traumatic if a parent had some horrible accident to happen to them super suddenly and without warning, where the parent is in the hospital with maiming. That might also be emotionally damaging to children. Or i dunno, lose a parent through a catastrophic event BEYOND THE CONTROL of the family.

OR HOW ABOUT PARENTS FIGHTING IN FRONT OF THEIR CHILDREN OVER PETTY SHIT.

And then turning to Child B and screaming, "THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT BLORBOGRETCHEN"

MAYBE. I WILL SAY MAYBE, it is traumatic for a kid to witness their own parent to go through a gender reassignment session or something. But I can name a few more things off the top of my head that would be significantly more impactful and harmful to a kid, than a parent deciding, "I am now other gender and I will be transitioning." Because parents can always sit down and discuss these things with kids. They can discuss separation, divorce, they can explain why they are grounding their kid for being a twat - but as an adult and recognizing their child needs reassurance and guidance during a drastic situation in their life when the parents are changing things up - when cohabitation isn't working, or someone has gotten sick, or someone did something (disloyal and cheated) and just talk to their kid in a way that makes them aware of why their life is changing. Taking the steps to reassure their kid that it has nothing to do with them, they did nothing wrong - things are changing because PEOPLE CHANGE. LITERALLY. WE ARE ALWAYS CHANGING.

But it will never be okay to undermine your kid, taking out your anger on your kid, or withholding food, or intentionally harming your child when they are just existing. ALL OF THAT will always be more traumatic than parents deciding to change who or what they are.

And talking heads taking it upon themselves to backseat ride a kids emotions, and saying, "bluebarbell is traumatized because parent is GENDER REASSIGNMENT IS HAPPENING" is super petty and immature you whineyhut Jr reject. Grow a pair of pants and shave your smooth marble brain. Bluebarbell has food, shelter, and a family that loves and supports them, then they're not traumatized. You're traumatized because you haven't grasped that human nature is to change

#talking heads have backseat emotions for child in family #another wild take but ejecting bluebarbell from the home because they come out as gay MIGHT ALSO BE TRAUMATIC BUT SCIENCE HAS QUESTONS #ALSO BULLYING YOUR KID WHEN THEY HAVE INTERESTS OUTSIDE OF GENDER CONFORMING THEMES #for real conservatives are always (BUT THINK OF THE CHILDREN!!!) CLUTCH PEARLS.exp #but the moment their kid deviates from the orchestrated path of the stars and gender conforming they just #implode and kick child out of home #cut off contact #shame kid #or ship them off to hate therapy to (fix) kid cause broken and blame VACCINES for autism is all appropriate /SARCASM

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treesandtheirberries · 3 years ago

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Dad!Harry talks to his daughter about her questioning sexuality

A/N: might make this into a blurb series? so presh. if you have any concepts around this, send them my way.

wc: 2,249

June was Harry and Y/N’s first baby, their biggest accomplishment before they were soon having another child. June was currently 13, the awkward age of Middle School, puberty, and overall questioning of identity. Y/N and Harry wanted this weird stage to be a smooth transition. They always encouraged her to express herself, with clothes, in hobbies, with their conversations. Although their first child, they both felt as though they managed to get through the difficulties of becoming a parent easily (thanks to the massive amount of parenting books, from birth to adolescence, that Harry kept buying while June was still in the womb).

Yet, there is only so much you can prepare your child for, and surely you can’t be there to guide them through every difficulty. Harry and Y/N weren’t sure if June would question her sexuality as both of them weren’t straight, they didn’t know if the process was the same for heterosexuals. But they never skirted around the topic. If anything, they encouraged watching same-sex couples in movies and such, even having many friends who had families with someone of the same gender (or a partner that was non-binary).

Harry hoped that this would be an excellent way to acclimate their children to the varying diversity of the world. Y/N grew up with racial diversity, but anything deviant from heterosexuality or cisgender was heavily frowned upon. They hoped that with their lack of omission of the varying aspects of identity their children would have the opportunity to understand themselves easier rather than constantly question their identity.

They forgot to take into account that this was simply a stage in adolescence they had to endure though, as Eric Erickson put it: a fight between identity and role confusion. And June was currently right at the center of it.

June, even as a child, was usually calm and they rarely had problems with her being fussy like they do with the twins, Mazzy and Mick (named after the artists constantly playing on their home turntable). Thus, any changes were quickly noticed in her behavior.

-------

Picking up the kids from daycare and June from school was on the top of Y/N’s list of things to do for the day. She adored seeing everyone’s faces after a day at work and seeing their warm smiles and tight hugs always brightened her mood.

Today, things seemed different.

June jumped into the front seat with a grunt, a frown, and even went as far as throwing her bag onto the floor of the car forcefully. This was generally out of character, except Y/N and Harry have noticed these bursts of anger more recently.

“What’s eating at ‘ya bug?” Y/N calmly asked, wanting to maintain a balance of emotions although knowing June was perhaps all over the place as most teenagers are.

June rubbed her hands on the top of her thighs and noticeably took a few deep breaths; a calming tactic her father taught her when she was younger to calm herself. She took a few more breaths until facing her mother to talk. “Sage didn’t want to hang out this weekend,” she finishes, the frown being found on her face once again.

“Oh, is she busy? Thought you two were having a sleepover at home?” Y/N inquired. She knew Sage and her daughter were best friends since the beginning of sixth grade, and she hoped they would maintain their friendship although she knew the ups and downs adolescents faced it might not be possible.

“She said she’s going to the mall with Rye.”

“As in the bread?” Y/N chuckled, trying to lift the mood.

June rolled her eyes, another behavior that has risen in frequency. “No mom. A boy. That she likes.” She grumbled crossing her arms and sinking further into the seat.

“Oooooh I see what’s going on here, Sage is going on a date!” She rose her voice to a pitch of puppy love, which didn’t sit well with June.

“We promised we wouldn’t date boys in Middle School. They’re all so stupid and ugly. I don’t get why she’s ditching me for him.”

Y/N was a bit surprised by this. Harry and she have talked about the day they’d have to worry about June’s infatuation with others and they were dreading it. Hearing that June didn’t have interest in it now was a relief, but of course, this whole conversation was concerning.

“I understand, not the nicest to make plans with someone when she already made some with you. But June-bug, you guys are teenagers. Of course, she’s going to take an opportunity to go on a date with a freaking boy!”

“Language momma!” Mick yelled, the three-year-olds’ well acquainted with naughty words.

“I guess. Just rude s’all.” June finished with another grumble. She wasn’t known for throwing huge fits, and her outbursts were usually this short.

Still, Y/N knew that this would be something that would affect her for the rest of the week. Her daughter is calm but incredibly sensitive, and the two parents have learned how to work through her internal struggles. She decided to ask the usual question during June’s turmoils: “wanna talk to dad about it?”

“Yes please.”

--------

Harry was finishing washing the plates as Y/N was getting the twins ready for bed. The small domestic moments like these reminded Harry of how lucky he was to have a family like his. He noticed June’s mood as soon as everyone entered the house, and once Y/N confirmed they would need to talk later, Harry was preparing himself to support his daughter through her problems. Y/N and he were definitely lucky with their firstborn being like June. Sometimes he’ll credit his efforts in teaching June meditation early, and depending on the day, Y/N agrees.

As he dries the plates to put back in their cupboards, June walks in.

“Hiya bug. C’mere give Poppa hug.”

June rolls her eyes (he’s having a hard time adjusting to these teenager habits) and walks closer to her father. Although she’s extremely close with both of her parents, there is a timeless connection she has with her father. “Not a child anymore dad. And please, do not call yourself poppa again. You’re not that old yet.” She mumbled in his chest, clearly needing the affection.

“Mom said you wanted to talk? Want her there?”

“Uhm. Maybe we could just talk in my room please.”

“Of course, let me just put these plates all back” Harry smiled, only letting go of the hug once he felt June move away. A small trick he learned from his mother after she attacked him with countless parenting trips: never let go in a hug with your child, let them determine when the hug is over. It gives them more comfort and stability in their lives and although he saw this as minimal, he understood its significance.

“I’ll help.”

----

As they walked to June’s room, they caught Y/N walking back from the twins’ room. “Hey baby, twins are done for. I’ll be in the room. “ She pecks Harry quick on the lips and turns to June to wrap her in a hug. “Love you cutie,” she winks at June as she goes to her room.

“Love you momma” June smiles, happy that she has a supportive family like this one.

“I’ll be there in a bit,” Harry smiles, his arm going back to June’s shoulders, giving it a squeeze.

Once they get to her room, both take a seat on June’s bed. Her back is on the headboard while Harry sits at the edge facing her, cross-legged. Every once in a while June would request to speak to Harry, Y/N, or both of her parents on the issues bothering her. Harry and Y/N were proud of having a daughter that felt comfortable enough to communicate with her parents, and they always were looking for new ways to enrich themselves with the issues kids have a different ages.

“Speak to me June, what’s on your mind lady?” Harry starts, initiating the push. He can tell that she’s struggling to bring her thoughts to words.

“Did you....well. How did you ... realize you didn’t like ... uhm, just girls?” She hesitantly asked, too flustered to look at her father on such a strange topic.

Oh, it’s happening, Harry thought. “Well, I was pretty young, I guess around your age, and I realized that I just wasn’t fully straight. It developed from there I guess, I talked to a few friends about it, spoke to your grandma, and eventually met a boy I really liked. It was really scary, I’m not going to lie, figuring out my feelings at that point. After that, it wasn’t a big deal and everyone in the family understood. I just knew something like gender wasn’t a big deal to me, and if I liked someone I liked them. But it’s different for everyone. Your mom can tell you how she found out she’s bi.”

June was soaking in the information her father gave her. She knew both of her parents weren’t straight, but hearing how they found it out was something entirely different. It wasn’t that she was foreign to the concept, but in personal terms, it was utterly confusing.

She finally looked to her father, giving him a small smile at the personal information he shared. They were a very open family, but something about this felt even more personal. “But, did you ever think you were faking it?”

“Not really, but you already know how pretentious your father is,” he chuckled, lighting the mood. “Your mother, as she’ll tell you, had a completely different experience. Said she struggled for years thinking she was either faking it or actually completely gay! She once told me that she just couldn’t disclose it with anyone, and that led her to a lot of contemplation. But if you’re feeling this way too, I need you to know your mother and I are here to support you in any way we can.”

“Dad,” June scrunched her eyes looking down at her crossed legs. “I think I might like girls. Or at least, I think. After Sage told me she’d ditched me I just realized I don’t like her just as a friend.”

At this moment, tears began to form in her eyes from all the confusion. Instantly Harry brought her into aa encompassing bear hug, keeping her safe in his chest. It hurt him to see her going through this dilemma, the inter-workings of adolescents were never fun.

“It’s just,” June suddenly choked on a sob, grasping her dad’s hoodie. Harry began to rub her back for support. “I like her I think. Like really like her dad. I don’t want her to date a boy, I want to date her. But she won’t like me and...I don’t know! Why did this have to happen to me!” She continued, clearly soaking his hoodie.

“Oh baby, please don’t ever think this is a bad thing. Sexuality is a spectrum, many of our friends are somewhere on it, and you already know Elizabeth and Mary are married. This is a beautiful thing to discover baby. But yes, I won’t lie to you, it’s going to be hard. There may be times you like someone who doesn’t like girls but bug, that’s simply life.”

“What if I am dad. I don’t know if I like boys at all.”

“Then you are. As simple as that. You can label how you feel or not, it’s all about what feels most comfortable to you. As you know, your mother and I will be here to support you in any way we can. If you like girls, so be it, you’re still our daughter and you know that. If you like boys, which I mean yuck,” he imitated a gagging noise, rising a laugh out of June “then okay. Both or everyone? It’s all okay bub. I do want you to think about it, It might take some time to accept it but we’re accepting you any way you are. You’re so beautiful and strong, and your sexuality doesn’t diminish that in any way.” He made sure to hug her tightly as he said this, expressing his full support.

“Dad, thank you.” June exhaled, releasing herself to wipe her tears.

“Of course, June. I’m so happy you were able to tell me this, I know it must’ve been hard.”

After a deep breath, June looked calmer after her small crisis. “I knew you guys would be okay with anything but it’s just, much harder than I expected to really like your friend who doesn’t like you.”

“It’s hard, so so hard. Ask your mum, seriously I swear she told me she also liked one of her friends at your age. Universal gay experience perhaps?” Harry pondered.

June gave a small laugh to that. “Yeah, I’ll ask. I don’t want her to think I left her out of this, it’s just that I’ve heard about your sexuality in the media more.”

“Pesky things, but I understand. It was so hard for your mom in comparison to me. Do you want me to let her know first, is it okay that I let her know you might be questioning?” He gave her daughter a sincere inquisitive look, valuing consent over everything.

“Yeah, of course. Probably talk to her tomorrow after we drop the twins off. I really appreciate it, dad.”

“No problem bug. Let’s get you tucked away.”

__________ part 2

OH MY GOD this is my first I HOPE YOU LIKE. please any feedback would be so sexy.

#harry #harry styles #harry styles prompts #harry styles one shot #harry styles one direction #harry blurb #dad!h #harry styles fluff #harry styles imagine #one direction #1d #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles angst #harry styles smut #fine line

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redorich · 4 years ago

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What do you think about Protoge!Tommy? I'd think it'd be a bit harder for the hermits to help him compared to Hermit!Tommy.

See, that’s almost kind of what Dream was trying to do to Tommy (at least in my version of the AU). I glossed over it a bit, but Tommy does wear Dream’s mask. Now, say that we start an AU a bit to the left, where Dream got more time to bend Tommy to his will before he lost it and sent Tommy off into Hermitcraft to keep him safe from the dreamon possessing the admin. It’s just long enough for Dream to trust that he can teach Tommy without Tommy using his teachings against him. Tommy’s not broken completely, but it’s enough to start.

Obviously, Dream doesn’t teach Tommy everything. Even if he had the time and the patience, he’s got to keep a trick or ten up his sleeve, so that he can put Tommy back down on the ground where he belongs should Tommy ever get any ideas.

He doesn’t want a useless heir, though, so he puts Tommy through boot camp. Tommy is never allowed more than five or six hours of sleep per night, until he stops having nightmares and he can fall asleep instantly, on the bare ground or buried in the sand or hidden up in a tree. Dream runs him through drills: sword forms, hand-to-hand, ground fighting, all of it. He makes Tommy do them until he can dissociate through the whole kata and still have done it satisfactorily, no matter how much his weak legs tremble from exhaustion.

He attacks Tommy at random, to train his reflexes (and, not so secretly, to smell that delectable fear). Tommy learns to duck his chin at the slightest move toward his neck, to drop like a stone when he senses someone sneaking up behind him, to follow up his blocks with a punch before registering who or what is attacking him. He learns through painful trial and error how to fall in such a way that maximizes surface area and minimizes the bruising. His awkward somersaults turn into smooth rolls that he can immediately transition into a sprint from.

Dream asks catch-22 questions and demands answers. Faster, he barks out, pushing Tommy to his limit both mentally and physically until Tommy inevitably fails, just so Dream can punish him. He asks questions that Tommy has no way of knowing the answers to, because Dream has never taught him. He demands Tommy address him as Sir, and punishes Tommy when he doesn’t start a sentence with “Sir”, even after Dream demands he drop the honorific.

Tommy learns the most important lesson of all: life isn’t fair, and he’s not the one in charge. He does what Dream says, and sometimes he gets punished even when he doesn’t do anything wrong, just because that’s Dream’s right. All Tommy can do is go above and beyond, obey orders to a tee and exceed Dream’s expectations, exceed the limits of his own body, in order to measure up as best he can. Sometimes, when Tommy injures himself trying to be somewhere in the ballpark of how good Dream is, Dream makes him stand at attention and reams him, but afterward he makes Tommy lie down and eat food that isn’t raw or just pulled out of the ground, and he runs his hands through Tommy’s filthy hair and speaks cruel things, but this time intersperses them with praise and consolations.

This time around, when Dream finally gets ahold of himself enough to realize he’s about to kill Tommy, that he needs to send the kid away somewhere where neither he nor the dreamon can get at him, things are more difficult. Tommy’s a lot better at fighting, and any excuse to attempt to kill Dream is one he’ll take whole-heartedly. This means that Dream has to take the fight a lot more seriously, and... Well, things happen.

Dream makes a portal to a server unknown even to him. Tommy staggers backward into the portal with wide eyes and a foot of sharpened netherite in his chest.

When the kid disappears through the portal, Dream collapses to his knees on the sand. There’s so much inside his head-- he has no clue whether he succeeded in saving Tommy or succeeded in killing him.

Tommy wakes up in a jungle, still speared upon Dream’s sword. He shudders, but yanks it out-- it’ll make him bleed out faster, but with a big fuck-off blade in his chest it’s unlikely he’ll live anyway.

The sword clatters to the dirt, flickering into incorporeality. Tommy feels no pain. Why doesn’t he feel pain?

He looks down. The giant tear in his fucking flesh is nothing more than an ugly black smear. His entire body is washed out, semi-transparent just like the sword he stole from Dream by virtue of it being in his fucking chest.

Tommy is... He’s like Wilbur. He’s a ghost.

#mcyt #hc x dsmp #ghost protege au #tommyinnit #dreamwastaken #me.cpp #me.txt

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astro-rain · 4 years ago

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delicate; b.barnes

chapter fourteen - “pinky promise”

delicate masterlist

word count: 2.1k

synopsis: bucky and the reader reconvene after the events of the previous night, figuring out what they need to do from there. pinky promises are endearing but they don’t prevent the effects of distressed regret & emotional frustration.

pairings: bucky barnes x fem!reader

She awoke with wet regret staining her cheeks. She remembered falling asleep with shame, liquid guilt seeping out of her eyes. Slowly and silently weeping herself to sleep while drunk. What a colossal fucking mistake she made. She felt terrible, and she could only imagine how Bucky felt. She needed to apologize. Immediately.

She found that her shoes were still on when she got out of bed.

"Oh, Christ," she huffed at her messiness.

Regardless, she grabbed a jacket for protection from the chilly Wakandan morning air before rushing to the door, determined to find Bucky as soon as possible and apologize profusely for the previous night.

She opened the door but before she could dash out, she smacked directly into what felt like hard wood. Wait, no. The "hard wood" was a chest, and that chest belonged to a person... it was Bucky. Damn it.

"Sorry!" the two exclaimed simultaneously.

They both backed up.

"Y/N..."

"Bucky."

"Can we talk?"

"Yes. Please."

They awkwardly made their way into the room, eventually sitting side by side on the end of her bed. The air was quiet and void of their usual content and lighthearted atmosphere. Both of them sat staring straight forward.

"Bucky, I... I am so sorry about last night. I know being drunk isn't an excuse for being unprofessional, but I really have no other explanation as to why I'd ever do something so inappropriate. I feel awful and I can't imagine how uncomfortable I've made you. I will completely understand if you don't want to work with me anymore. I can talk to Shuri or T'Challa and we can find someone else to take my place if—"

"Woah," he turned to her, slightly alarmed. "Slow down, slow down. Who said anything about replacing you?"

"Well, I just thought after...last night, you'd rather have someone else work with you. It probably wouldn't be wise to continue treatment with me after certain... professional boundaries have been damaged."

"I'm not working with anyone else."

She looked at him bewildered, but he looked dead serious.

Y/N shook her head. "I—"

"Look, I'm not a therapist and I don't know the criteria of your 'professional boundaries'... But you were drunk. It happens. I don't think any less of you because you had a little too much. Believe me, I've been there."

"I know, but it's not necessarily the drinking that was the problem. It was... my actions."

"Right. And I don't think leaning a couple inches is really grounds for leaving Wakanda."

It was more than just "leaning a couple inches," and she knew that. She was humiliated by her drunken errors, but it was seductively dizzying to be that close to him. In the moment, she relished in every second, every atom of hers that was touching him. However, it was the afterthought that was the problem, the realization of what she had done and how wrong it was.

"Bucky..."

"I'm not working with anyone else."

"I'm not the only good therapist, you know."

"But you're my therapist. I don't want a new one."

"And I don't want to disrupt your progress, but there's no way I can keep treating you after last night."

"Why not? What's gonna happen if you do? Nothing."

"It's not that simple."

"Nobody was here. No one knows but us. There's no way you can get into trouble."

"It's not entirely about getting in trouble. It's about the nature of our relationship and how that change can impact how effectively and ethically I can treat you."

He was quiet for a minute, thinking.

He shook his head, looking down at his feet. "We can work something out..."

"I don't think so, Buck..."

"So you're just gonna leave then?"

"I think that's what needs to happen."

He turned his head to her, making deliberate eye contact.

"Y/N, please."

"All I wanna do is do right by you, and I can't do that after I've compromised our relationship."

"But you didn't compromise—"

"Bucky," she exasperated, "Can you please try to understand?"

"Can you please try not to be so hasty about things? Our relationship is fine. You don't need to leave."

Stubborn. He was being stubborn. But, all she could see was strong will and passion. That was the problem. All his faults morphed into aptitudes when they filtered through her perception.

"I really care about you, Buck. I just want you to have access to the help you need, and as much as I hate to say it, I don't know if I can be that help anymore."

"Can't we just try?"

"Try what?"

"Just... hear me out. We can continue the sessions as if nothing happened, and if everything is fine, then great, but if not, then you can go."

Is that what it would take for him to be okay with her leaving? Is that what it would take to make her departure less of a complete upheaval? There was no way this would work, she thought. But what were the lengths to which she would go to make the transition smoother? Was she willing to make sacrifices to help ease his hardships? She reflected for a minute.

For him, she would. For him, she considered, she'd do most anything.

"Okay," she said after brief contemplation. "We can try. But you have to keep in mind, the entire time, that I still might have to leave in the end."

He smiled, sincerity almost suffocating her. "Thank you."

"Promise me you won't be disappointed if I end up having to leave."

"You want a pinky, blood oath, or spit shake?" he asked, jokingly.

"Bucky," Y/N deadpanned.

"Well, it's not like we need to promise, because you won't have to leave... 'cause everything will be fine."

God, she hoped so.

"Promise me anyway. Just in case."

"Fine. I promise. You have my word."

She held out her hand to him, pinky finger raised high.

"Make it official."

"You know I was kidding?" he asked.

"I know. But you brought it up, so now you're payin' the price," she smiled, feeling herself momentarily slipping back into their dynamic. "Officially promise me with your pinky, James."

In acquiescence, he lifted his hand up to hers, pinky extended, and wrapped their fingers together. As it turned out, her hand had desires of its own and begged for additional contact. It yearned to smooth over the skin of Bucky's hand and press their palms together. Her hand wanted to intertwine the rest of their fingers and hold on ever so tightly. It wanted to hold on and never leave Wakanda, never leave his side.

As it also turned out, the hand is not the mind. These were surely not Y/N thoughts. Definitely not... Desires were kept repressed and no actions were taken. Sorry hand.

Their fingers stayed connected for just a few brief seconds of silence. Not nearly long enough for it to be awkward or for them to get second thoughts about the integrity of their agreement. Their fingers disconnected.

"So..." Bucky started, "are things gonna be weird now? With us?"

"They don't have to be, but I guess it depends."

"On what?"

"I don't know. Whether you're upset with me over what happened - which you have every right to be."

"Upset with you? No! Not at all. It seems like you're more upset than I ever was."

"I'm only upset because of what I did!"

"Well, I'm only upset because you're upset, so... stop being upset."

"I-..." she sighed. "Okay. I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry too. Are we good?"

"You don't have anything to be sorry for..."

"Just say we're good."

She let out a nervous laugh.

"Fine, we're good. I'm just surprised at how you're so cool with this."

"Well, friends bounce back quick, right?"

Her demeanor changed. The mood sunk.

"Bucky..."

"No, no. Don't sit there and tell me that now we aren't friends. You just pinky swore with me," he said with a meek smile, attempting to lift her mood back up. "C'mon, that counts for something."

She looked down at her hands, suddenly missing the skin-to-skin contact. "I just think it might be better to be more professional and less... personal."

"Better for who exactly? 'Cause I know it wouldn't be for me."

She turned her head to look at him, face earnest and contrite. He only looked confused and a little mentally disheveled.

"I want to make this new... plan thing work. If you don't want me to have to leave, we have to reinstate some sort of boundaries, Buck."

"So boundaries means throwing away being friends?"

"I'm not throwing it away. I want to make sure we can be successful, and to be successful we have to be a little more..." she took a breath in, hating how much she kept bringing up this word, "professional. We gotta have more good days than bad, you know?"

A few beats of silence passed them by. Bucky's expression softened to a dangerous level of sincerity.

"I think you are my good days..."

Y/N tore her gaze away. She couldn't do this. She wished he wouldn't say such gentle things; she was trying so hard. The tension in her heart began to frustrate her. And it was because of him. She wished her emotions weren't always so escalated in his proximity.

"How long were you outside for?" she changed the subject.

"All night."

"What?!"

"Just kidding. Only for a couple minutes. Why are you changing the subject?"

"I'm not."

"You really are. And you're uneasy."

Trying to deny feelings was harder when someone else called them out.

"Stop trying to analyze me."

"M'not analyzing. I'm just reading you."

Reading her?

"Reading me?"

"Yeah. You were looking at me, but now you turned away. You're bouncing your leg but otherwise you're completely still, tense, like you are when you're nervous. You're also turned away from me... kinda like you don't wanna be near me."

Yeah, because her heart felt like it was going to burst.

She stood up, walking away from him and his infuriating correctness. How dare he know her like that? Anger bubbled in her stomach. She faced him, arms crossed over her chest, as if shielding herself from his prying efforts to understand her personality. How dare he decipher her.

"Really?" she huffed, amped up nervousness morphing into irritation. "You barely slept last night, and it's not just noticeable because of the bags under your eyes. You do this thing when you're tired - you blink really slowly and then rub your eyes. It's subtle. How's that for reading? Oh, and you're more uncomfortable about having one arm than you let on. When you sit next to me, you always make sure to sit so that your arm is on my side. In fact, you're so bad at tolerating uncomfortable that you refuse to even think about getting a new therapist - even though it's the right thing to do - because you don't want to deal with the change."

She took a breath after expelling her vexation. Bucky stared at her with wide eyes, never before hearing her angry, much less at him.

"That's not why..." he all but whispered.

"You know I can tell when you're lying, right?"

"Apparently not," he rolled his eyes. "And I thought we made a deal."

"I think you should leave."

He looked up at her. "Y/N.."

She turned away from him, deciding she couldn't handle looking him in the eyes.

Glancing at the door, she muttered, "I'll see you at our next session."

"But— I thought..."

"A deal's a deal. I'll see you, Bucky."

The room was eerily silent until Bucky decided to move. She could feel his eyes on her, searching for something, anything out of her. Perhaps she was hasty, but there was no room for second thoughts, second emotions. She completely steeled herself. Feeling around him was just... a lot. A lot to deal with. Maybe too much.

"Okay," he said, voice quiet. "I'll see you... I guess."

With that, he left. He left her in an empty room with empty feelings and an empty hand. She looked down at that hand, the very same one that wrapped its finger around his in the lighthearted simplicity of a juvenile gesture. Joy with Bucky was like that - simple. Being happy was effortless with him. Yet, it was so troublesome to be displeased with him. She could sense another distressed night sleep coming her way.

delicate taglist: @bakugouswh0r3 @thefridgeismybestie @strivingforelegance @ilovespideyyy @xpurpleglitter @bluelakeee @darkacademic2 @nickkie1129 @eclipsedplanet @paradisedixon @crazy-beautiful @coffee--writes @lauxrens @lilithknight1111 @buckybarnesishot310 @softladyhours @alwayssandy @quxxnxfhxll @those-sea-green-eyes @hero-ically @devilswaldorf @cc13723things @buckys1thiccbih @maravderofthephoenix

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writingsbychlo · 4 years ago

Text

poker night | stiles stilinski

word count; 9320

summary; you and stiles have grown close since leaving for college, and the pack coming to visit is the little push you need to finally cross that bridge.

notes; this is teh second fic for my birthday week/7,000 follower celebration!

warnings; smut, drug use, underage drinking.

Excitement and pure joy were coursing through your veins as you watched out of the open curtains down to the street below, the sun just beginning to set as the late evening moved into early night, and you heard Stiles chuckle from across the room where he was tipping various chips into different bowls to lay out beside the poker table he’d rented that sat in the middle of the room.

“Excited, much?”

“Yes!”

You turned to look at him, giving him a pointed stare as you dropped your hand from holding open the curtains to instead place both of your hands on your hips, giving him a wide smile as you rocked on the balls of your feet, and he returned the wide grin, crumpling up the foil packets and dropping them all into the bin as he deemed the room ready. He was lucky, he had a rather large dorm, and all to himself, far bigger than yours was but you were still convinced that the pre-FBI program gave each of their candidates far better university living than the rest of you got. There was plenty of space for everyone to cram in, some of them choosing hotels in the area and some of them choosing to stay with Stiles, it had been a squeeze to get everyone in, but it was worth it.

You hadn't seen your pack since the day you’d left Beacon Hills.

It was hard to be away from them all for so long, after everything you had all been through, and yet you knew you had it easier than most. Stiles had only been a fifteen-minute drive from your accommodation, and so the two of you had grown infinitely closer than you had ever been, relying on one another heavily to make the transition easier. Lydia had called you every day for the first month and a half, and you’d all had weekly facetime sessions, but it just hadn't been the same.

With the first year coming to a close and everyone being far too broke to be able to afford to actually go anywhere, you’d settled on a few days up at college together for a small but parent-free vacation before the journey home.

It was the perfect opportunity for you all to get unnecessarily drunk, excessively high, and eat a lot of junk food, all while not having to worry about any oncoming attack that might strike, as the year-marker of safety was quickly approaching. Naturally, Stiles had decided to set a theme, and where was the place that drinking and gambling was the norm? Vegas. So of course, Stiles had gone all out with renting a poker table and set, and hanging vaguely Vegas-themed decorations around the place. He was even wearing a t-shirt with a tux pattern printed on the front, and had managed to convince you into wearing your party shirt with the flapper-style tassels on to match.

“C’mon, Stiles, it’s been almost a year since we’ve seen anyone from the pack, why aren’t you bouncing off of the roof with excitement?”

“I’ve seen one person from the pack all year.” He prompted, shooting you a playful wink and laughing as you rolled your eyes at him, before throwing away all the wrappers and holding his arms out for you in an invitation for a hug.

Accepting his offer, you moved away from the window and let him wrap his arms around your waist, barely a sliver of space between your bodies as you looked up at him and sighed. “I’m nervous. It’s been so long since we’ve seen them all, and I love them all so much, but nothing bad has happened since we’ve all been separated but what if just when we all get together again, something bad happens, and we don’t even get to enjoy it an-”

He shushed you gently, using one hand to weave through your hair and tuck it away behind your ear, his eyes fixed on you carefully as the playlist you and Stiles had spent a whole week building was playing in the background, waiting for everyone to arrive to appreciate it. “Bad things don’t happen when we’re all together, bad things happened because we were in Beacon Hills. We aren’t in Beacon Hills anymore, and we aren’t scared kids anymore, okay?”

“Okay.”

“You wanna’ cheer up? Nobody can be sad in faux-Vegas!” He cheered, waving his arm around the room, and you chuckled, catching his face brighten even further as he watched the worry slip away from your features, his lips brushing your forehead before he was tucking you under his chin, and holding you tightly.

You were only still for a second, the two of you swaying slowly before you heard the tell-tale signs of a car pulling up outside, the engine dying and doors slamming, and an excited gasp left your lips. “I bet that’s them!”

His fingers laced with yours and he was moving before you were, the two of you speeding over to the window to peer out, catching sight of Derek’s black car, the man himself leaning against it and waiting as Mason and Liam pulled their bags out of the trunk, Scott sitting in the passenger seat with the door open and his bag in his lap. Both yours and Stiles’ phone were chiming a second after he put his own away, notification in your group chat as he informed you both that they’d arrived, unaware of you watching on from the window with anticipation.

The group was on the move, the car locked and disappearing from sight as they entered the building's lobby area, and Lydia had offered her own ETA as the others all chipped in theirs, and just like that, your fears were gone as you swung open the front door and peered out into the corridor while you waited.

Within forty minutes of the Beacon Hills group arriving, everybody was here, and drinks had been cracked open, snacks dug into, and you were all lounging around and catching up on missed gossip and news, sharing photos and stories that you had wanted to tell in person and saved just for this moment.

Pizza boxes were piled high within two hours, and smoke was filling the air, giggles and laughs shared all around as the group simply rejoiced in being back together once again. Liam and Mason had told you all about the latest shit that Coach had been dishing out, and all the pranks that they had committed, as well as Mason, blushing when Lydia and Kira had pressed him about Corey. Scott and Derek had given a brief update about everything that had happened in Beacon Hills, which was surprisingly little with all things considered, and Lydia had tried to inform you all about the advanced placement work she had been doing in her classes, but had lost you all at some point as it became far too complex for you all to understand, and so instead had switched to telling you about the cute guy she had met at the coffee shop three months ago.

Kira and Malis had been travelling, the pair had recently been all over Europe exploring, and had even visited Isaac in France and Jackson in London, before they’d finally returned home to see everyone. They dished out all the little souvenirs that they had bought, and shared them out with you all before showing you pictures and telling you the stories behind each trip. You had shared your own stories, all the funny ones you had of Stiles falling over or spilling something in public, and he embarrassed you just as much, teasing you until your cheeks were red and he was cuddling you into his side and ruffling your hair as everyone laughed.

It was like nothing had ever changed, and you loved it.

The night had drifted on with natural progress until the music had been turned down to a lower level with the late hours, and the hazy atmosphere had everyone moving sluggishly and lazily as empty bottles littered the floor and the stubs of many dead blunts sat in the ashtray on the edge of the poker table, even the wolves having a little wolfbane laced treats to help them hit the mood just as much as all of the non-wolves had.

You were currently lounging across both Liam and Malia on the couch, lay out over them as you continually brushed off your midriff, crumbs dropping down onto your top each time Liam took a bite of the chip dish that was positioned between him and Mason, the two absolutely gone as they laughed and giggled among themselves about everything and anything.

Alongside their voices, and the conversation between yourself, Malia and the boys, was the rustle of cards and clinking of poker-chips, and you were itching for more physical affection than you were getting now, your inhibitions lowered and your need for physical attention through the roof from the substances racing through your bloodstream. Your sights honed in on Stiles, hair messy from playing with it and back facing you, your chair long abandoned from where you’d given up on cards when they’d started the real gambling, and you’d remembered just how crap you were at the game.

Getting up onto wobbly legs, you made your way across the room, resting your hands on Stiles’ shoulder as you stood behind him, smoothing them down his chest and he placed his beer down, licking the excess of the bitter liquid from his lips and placing the hand on top of one of yours, squeezing lightly as he turned to look at you.

“Hi, cutie. What d’you need?”

“Nothin’.” You sighed, slumping down further and resting your chin on the top of his head, used to the sweet little nicknames he fixed you with, and you relaxed against him as he leaned back a little further in the chair and pushed himself a few inches out front he table, seeming to predict your next words before you had even spoken them; “Was just feeling like I wanted some attention.”

“Hm, well c’mere, you can play cards, I’ve seen your poker face in the midst of some much more intense situations than this, I think you can handle it.”

You flicked him in the ear for his joke about all your supernatural struggles, but he held your hand and guided you around him to stand by his side, making space for you to sink down atop him and get comfy.

Slumping down across the boy’s lap with a deep sigh, your legs were slung across his at an angle, and his arms were quick to wind around your waist, one hand tucking itself under your shirt to seat on the heated skin of your waist, and the other held his cards limply in his hand, but his focus was no longer on them. You’d long since given up on the game, barely able to hold a focus as your mind spun from the hazy smoke in the air, and the taste of bitter-sweet alcohol still lingering in your mouth.

Slightly sticky lips brushed your shoulder as he peppered the bare skin with sweet kisses, and you turned your head to give the boy a dopey smile, watching as his own face creased in a beaming grin in response. His eyes were blown wide, slightly widened and his hair messy from constant playing with it, the arm of yours that wasn’t sitting around his neck for support was lifting up so that you could weave a hand into the chocolate locks, and he sighed out softly at the contact, letting you twist in his arms to face him even more.

“Like it when you play with my hair.”

“Mhm, I know.”

Your words were mumbled in response and he chuckled under his breath as his eyes fluttered shut, tipping his head into your hand, before a voice coughed loudly and the two of your jumped, eyes snapping open and focus moving back to the poker table before you both, other members of the pack gathered around and smirking at you both knowingly, but you let out a deep sigh and only relaxed into the boy under you even further.

“Stop looking at us like that.”

“Like what, exactly?” Lydia all but purred out her words, and you shot her a pointed look, as the others around the table all tried to muffle their laughs of agreement. Derek was looking at his cards and trying to bite away his smile by nibbling on the inside of his cheek, Scott and Kira were pretending to discuss their hand at cards, but were shooting the pair of you small looks throughout their whispered conversation, and Lydia was staring at you with a challenging smirk. You could even feel the members of the others scattered around you watching on, the pack spread out around the smoke room, the funky smell hanging off of everyone and everything.

“You know what like. You’re looking at us like you know something we don’t, like it’s a joke only we aren’t a part of.”

You felt a nose push at the underside of your jaw and tipped your head up to allow the boy more space to nose at the space under your jaw and by your ear, letting him just gain his own affections to his heart’s content, and this only spurred on Lydia’s piercing stare at the two of you. “You aren’t a part of a joke, and in fact, it’s incredibly unfunny. However, I do know something you don’t. We all do.”

“Care to share?”

It was the first night in almost a year that the pack had all been together. Lydia had finished her exams early, Scott had gotten ahead on his training with Deaton to create time, and Liam and Mason had ditched their last week. Derek had driven them all up here, and Lydia had come down from her college to see you all. Kira had come with Malia on the plane after they had recently finished their travels of Europe, and you had come across from your own dorms.

It was barely a travel, you and Stiles went to colleges that were only ten miles apart, and so you were hanging out regularly during the week, you were the only two that had seen each other in person since leaving for college and not just via facetime, and in this time, the two of you seemed to have grown even closer than you had ever been despite all the supernatural drama you had been through.

“C’mon, you two have gotten so close since we all left for college.”

“So?” you and Stiles spoke at once, looking to Scott for his comment, before you were giggling and sharing glances in your utterly smoked out state, finding entertainment in your joint statement.

“Nothing.. ‘sparked’ in that time?”

You took a deep sigh, your eyes wandering around the room, flicking from Lydia to Malia, before back to the redhead who was watching you intensely. “Feels a bit weird to talk about this in front of two of his exes.”

“So, there is something to talk about!” Lydia shouted the words like she had suddenly realised the key to life, looking far more excited than someone who just discovered their best friends having feelings for their ex should look. “God, finally, I’ve only been staying with you for three days and the sexual tension is already too much for me to handle.”

“What are you talking about?” Stiles questioned, breath fanning over your face from where he was all but mouthing at your jaw, dry kisses pressed there as he held you to his chest tightly, having put his cards down on the table at some point so hold you with both hands.

“When I left, you two were friends who would hug, now you’re this pair who are all over each other without even realising it! I mean, the two of you are closer right now than Scott and Kira have ever been!” The couple that was involved against their will let out various noises of complaints, being waved off by the redhead and they comforted one another with small kisses, both you and Stiles shrugging languidly. “Listen, Malia and Stiles ended ages ago, and Stiles and I were barely a couple, we didn’t even sleep together, so don’t feel weird.”

“Way to boost my ego, Lydia.” The brunette under you sighed, but you only squeezed yourself around him tighter, feeling him reciprocate the emotions and push his hand even further up over your ribs.

“Even I can smell the arousal and longing rolling off of the two of you in waves. Just admit it to each other already.” Derek muttered, shifting his cards before pushing some of his counters into the middle, and despite all the alcohol and weed in your system, your eyes went wide as you shifted to look at the boy underneath you, his lips parted a little as he gave you a nervous smile.

“You’re longing? For me?”

He grinned widely, his head tipping to the side, cheeks flushed with warm heat, before he licked over his lips and nodded slowly. “Yeah, since like the first month when you stayed that whole weekend to binge marvel movies with me so I didn’t feel alone and you did that dance thing while you were making pancakes on Saturday.” He paused, thinking over his words, before he was leaning in a little and bumping his nose with yours as your hand came out of his hair to sit on his cheek delicately. “You’re aroused? By me?”

Your breath hitched, and he smirked very lightly at your response, his lips brushing yours when you nodded. “Yeah, ever since the day you came over right after going to the gym and you were all sweaty and asked if I minded if you used my shower and then you walked around with your shirt off before dinner. I definitely didn’t mind.”

He laughed lightly at your statement, his eyes glazing over a little as he remembered the day. “Are you longing, too?”

“Mhm. Are you also aroused?” Your question hung heavily in the air and he let out a soft sound under his breath as you asked him.

“Of course.”

“Cool.” You both spoke the single syllable word at the same time, your eyes closing as your fingers dug into his jaw a little, your breathing as light and shallow as everyone else in the room seemed to fade away. It was simply the two of you, sharing breath and his tongue brushing your lips when it peeked out of his mouth to wet his own, and you whimpered under your breath so quietly only he would hear it, to which his hands tightened on your flesh as he picked up on the sound.

“You want to go back to your place?”

“Oh, definitely.” You nodded rapidly, and he beamed shifting in your lap, taking a swig of his drink as he downed the rest of the glass, and slipped his hand into your back pocket as the rest of the group stared at the two of you with wide eyes, shock evident on their faces about how easy that conversation had really been, but you didn’t care, because Stiles was running the pads of his fingers very subtly over your ass and squeezing through your pocket, even as he stared down everyone else in the room, and your skin was beginning to feel hot from something entirely other than the atmosphere in his dorm that you had all created. “We need a cab.”

“We can call one and makeout in the doorway while we wait, go get your bag.” He pulled his touch away from you, placing a playful slap on your ass and grinning at the way you squeaked before scurrying away to gather your belongings, and he was grabbing his wallet, throwing down a handful of notes on the table, quickly booking an Uber with the app on his phone.

When your hand slipped into his again the shocked looks had morphed into smirks, the only three teams still sitting around the table were reshuffling cards and setting themselves up to play, Stiles telling them all not to wait up for him to come home, before he was pulling you from the room and towards the door. “You booked a cab?”

“Yes.”

“And we’re going to make out in the doorway until it gets here?”

“Fuck, yes.” He tipped his head to look at you, slamming the front food shut and guiding you towards the stairs you were so familiar with, as the two of you set off on your quick and stumbling journey toward the main entrance to the building.

“Will you grab at my ass again like you were before?”

“Do you want me to?” He didn’t give you a chance to respond, however, before his fingers were leaving yours and moving over your lower back to grab at your ass roughly, feeling your shake as he curled you into his side, the two of you inching down the lower staircase. “Like that?”

“Yeah?”

“Honestly, I’ll do anything you want me to.”

“I’m going to remember that for later.” You punctuated your words with a nibble on his lower lip, glancing up into his swirling whiskey eyes through your lashes, and he groaned under his breath, letting himself nod slowly as he used his grip on your ass to pull your body flush up against his. His mouth descended onto your own once again, catching your lips in a fiery kiss, instantly parting as the lust took over your both, tripping and stumbling down the final few steps as he pressed you into the wall beside the door, uncaring for who may see the pair of you as his tongue tangled with your own, visible between your parted mouths whenever your heads twisted to the side for deeper access.

It was sloppy and wet, and a clash of moans and whimpers as the two of you teased done another endlessly with a mixture of slow and ongoing kisses that alternated with needy and rushed ones, teeth clashing and lips dragging.

Hands roamed one another’s bodies, your palms tracing over the broad and hardened planes of his chest, the workouts he had been on for the pre-FBI fitness programs had done things to his body that lacrosse never did, and you were sure the day you’d seen Stiles do a pull-up was the day you realised rolling over guys may actually be a thing. The muscles twitched and tensed under your fingertips, and his hands were rubbing along you back all the way to your upper thighs, exploring your body as he pinched and squeezed in places that made your body jerk and twitch into him.

His lips were working along your neck as your heart raced, your eyes closed and back arching up, chests pressed flush together, and the what around the two of you almost felt like it was too much. The fingers that were sitting low on your waist slipped even further, grazing along you covered pussy through you jeans, ad he pushed down teasingly on the spot he knew your clit would be, biting down on the joint between your shoulder and your neck when he heard you moan his name out breathlessly at the simple action.

He dragged his tongue over the spot, moving in to dip back down to kiss you, before the two of you were breaking through your haze at the sound of a horn honking, and the phone in his back pocket was buzzing. He was panting for breath as he pulled back from you, only one hand still touching you as his fingers laced with your own, a stark contrast from every part of him pressed to every part of you only seconds prior.

“Good thing, one minute longer and I probably would’ve had my hands down your pants right here in the doorway.”

He gave you a sultry wink, before he was pulling you along to the car waiting on the edge of the road, ignoring your wide eyes and stuttering words, holding the door open for you and helping you inside like a gentleman, like he hadn't just threatened public nudity and a great orgasm only seconds prior. He was seconds behind you, confirming his identity and booking to the driver, and as the car took up motion on the short journey once again, he turned back to you.

“You okay, baby? You look flushed.” You turned to look at him, sensing the light tone in his voice that was playfully disguising the question underneath as to whether you still wanted this, and you nodded gently, taking his face in your hands and pulling his face down so that you could peck his lips.

“I like it when you call me baby.”

“You do?” He dragged his nose along your cheek, brushing a kiss to your skin, the intimate and sweet touches making you blush hot and red under his touch, his chuckle so soft that only you could hear it.

“Yeah. We could have been doing this for months, y’know.”

“Making out in a taxi and trying not to feel each other up to much before we get back to your place?” He joked, tucking an arm over your shoulder and you settled into his side, your hands playing with his other one as it sat on your thigh and squeezed lightly.

“I was going to say being together, but sex works too.” Your words were whispered out, and he twisted until he was nuzzling affectionately into your hairline.

“You want that? To be together with me?”

“Well, I wasn’t longing for fun.” You scoffed, and he shifted his hands to lace your fingers together, his arm squeezing you tighter to him.

“I can’t say I always knew we were meant to be, or that I spent my whole child and teenhood pining after you, but I really think we would be special together, and I think we could go a long way together.” You rolled your eyes at his affections, but the alcohol and drugs in your body were making you emotional, and you sniffed away your feelings as you pushed your face into his neck, pressing a kiss to his skin in a silent acknowledgement of his statement.

“Together, then.”

“Together.” He confirmed, and the scenery flashing by before you both was quickly coming to an end, Stiles confirming a payment to come out of his bank account, before he was thanking the driver and watching as you clambered from the car to stand before your own building, Stiles stumbling out behind you and pressing himself up to your back as the two of you giggled in your drunkenness.

It was an awkward walk between the two of you, you back pressed to the wall of your elevator as you each tried to hit the right button for your floor, seeming to hit every single one but the right one, and the journey was filled with shared giggling ad little moans as you let him kiss and lick at your neck, marking your skin with red marks that would be dark by the morning. His hands had fished your keys out of your pocket, and he was holding them up before you as the two of you all but raced along the corridor to your room.

The door slammed off of the wall as you made your way in, dropping the keys to the floor and kicking the door shut behind you as he navigated you on the path he knew so well toward your bedroom, the light feeling in the air gone as lust and heat replaced it, your mouths meshing together in urgent kisses that begged for more, wandering hands and tugs of material, your jacket pushed from your shoulder to the floor and your hands tucked underneath his t-shirt as you finally got to feel the abs that you had so often watched sweat run down when he’d taken you to do workouts with him, or showed up at your place straight after the gym or a run.

Pulling his own shirt up and over his head, your hands were immediately drawn to the exposed skin of his chest. It certainly wasn’t the first time you’d seen him without a shirt on, but it was the first time you’d been allowed to actually look, to touch, and your fingertips were pressing into the smooth skin, palms flat to his flushed chest, pink and shining with a light layer of sweat from the heat forming between the two of you. “Damn, Sti.”

“What? Still thought I was the skinny kid with the buzzcut from sophomore year?”

“No, you’ve spent enough time wandering around without your shirt on while I’m around for me to know you’re hot, it’s just now I can actually appreciate it.” You flashed your teeth at him in a cheeky grin, and he gave a breathless chuckle in response, the muscles in his stomach tightening as your fingers dragged down over the taut flesh, until your nails were scratching at the trail of dark hairs below his navel, hooking into his dark jeans.

“I wouldn't have minded if you’d appreciated it before.” You tipped your head up, kissing along the underside of his jaw gently, licking at the smooth flesh from where he had shaved earlier in the day, and his breathing shallowed as you did, his fingers tightening on your hips. “Okay, no fair, shirt off, baby. I’ve been wanting to know what your tits looked like since you wore that red bikini to the pool party I took you to.”

You went almost the same shade as the aforementioned garment as he whispered the filthy words into your ear, and he pushed his hands up under your shirt, hands inching the flimsy material up until it was sitting just under your bra, his thumbs smoothing out over your skin and brushing at the wire of your bra. “You sure you want to do this? We don’t have to. I swear, I’d be more than happy to just cuddle with you and watch movies like we always do on Tuesday nights, just s-”

Your lips met his, pressing a deep and longing kiss to his lips, and he moaned into your mouth when the connection was made, your bodies coming up flush against one another as you moved your hands back up to loop around his neck. Your fingers weaved into his hair, one hand behind his head as the other cradled his jaw, and he tipped his head to the side, your noses bumping and brushing as his tongue dipped out to tempt your lips to open up for him. Instead of allowing that, however, you were pulling away, just enough until your lips were barely brushing his, letting him groan out in dissatisfaction.

Pulling your shirt up and over your head and dropping it to the ground, his eyes widened as he took in the sight of your exposed chest, all other than the simple white bra you were wearing underneath, and your jaw dropped as you suddenly remembered the underwear that was clad on your body.

“I wasn’t expecting this when I put my comfy underwear on today, I have way cuter bras than this.”

He smirked, popping the button on your jeans so that they were loose enough for him to tug down softly, until they were tight around your thighs, your jaw hanging open as both of his palms slipped down to squeeze at your ass. “I was assuming you wouldn't be wearing the cute blue thong when you had no idea what would happen tonight. Besides, if you'll let me, I’d much rather have your underwear off and on the floor, with my head between your thighs and my hands on your tits instead.”

“How do you know about my cute blue thong?” You whined, tipping your head back with false-irritation in your voice, and letting him kiss down your neck as your hair fell back behind you.

“You do your laundry with me every week, sometimes I’d see what was going into the machines, and that piece caught my eye, I always hoped I’d get to see it on you, and we have plenty of time for that. Besides, I’m wearing boxers with hotdogs printed on, so don’t worry about it.” His fingers moved one of the straps of your bra away, letting it fall away to sit on the side of your arm, exposing your shoulder to him, and you own hands found the clasp behind your back, undoing it for him and watching as his eyes focused in one your breasts, nipples already hard under the material, and he licked at his lips as he stared down at your chest. “Shit, you have such perfect tits.”

You took one of his wrists in your hands, dragging the limp limb up until his palm was pressing over your skin, a content sigh falling from your lips was beyond your control as his fingers twitched and he took control once again, squeezing at the fleshy mound you had given him access to. His thumb and forefinger pinched your nipple teasingly, rolling the taut bud between the pads, and your back arched up, pressing even further into him.

Dipping down, he took the other between his teeth, pulling lightly before sealing his lips around it, his arm wrapped around your lower back so that he could tip you backwards, your hips pressing into his and the bulge in his jeans becoming obvious as you found yourself flush up against one another.

“I really need to know what else that mouth can do, and what else you’ve got hidden, and then when we’re all fucked out, we can definitely cuddle and watch a movie. First, though, I want you to make sure I scream loud enough that my neighbours know your name.”

“And here I was thinking I’d be doing the dirty talk, huh?” He sighed out against your skin, pulling away from your breast with a ‘pop’, the skin wet and shiny and he moved back up to brush his mouth with yours. “You got it, princess.”

His hands found your hips, pushing you backwards onto the bed, and he was pulling your jeans the rest of the way down your legs, taking your socks and shoes as he went, stripping you down to just the polka dot cotton panties you wore, and your hair fanned out around you on the bed as your chest rose and fell, mind spinning as you tried to gather yourself, the whole motion had happened so quickly. His hands were on your knees, pushing your thighs apart until he could settle on the mattress between them, and lick a long stripe up along your covered core, spit soaking you underwear, but the feeling of his hot breath against you was already making you tremble underneath him.

“Can’t wait to taste you, I bet you’re sweet, hm? That okay? I’ve been dreaming ‘bout getting my head between these thighs, or having you ride my face, cum on my tongue, how’s that sound?”

“Yes! Yes, to all of it, whatever you want!” Your words were promising for him, and he caught your eye as you propped yourself up on you elbows to look at him, his eyes blown with lust and dark as he hooked his fingers into the elastic of the waistband, tugging the material away from your swiftly, and he let out a noise that was somewhere between a growl and a moan as your glistening folds were put on display for him, with no barrier between.

“Oh, fuck, you look so good. All spread out for me, dripping wet and blushing. You’re perfect.”

“I’m not perfect, Stiles.”

“You absolutely fucking are, and I’ll prove just how perfect I think you are.” His lips descended onto yours as he leaned over you, one hand holding him up as you shared a sloppy and heated kiss, the clashing of teeth and tangling of tongues, wet sounds audible in the room as the two of you frantically dove into one another's mouths, exploring and becoming familiar with new territory. The other hand snaked down between your body, cautious fingers dragging along your drenched skin as two digits parted your folds, swirling in the built-up wetness and bumping against your clit. “Shit, you’re so wet. All for me, yeah?”

“All for you, Stiles, you really have no idea what you do to me.”

“Mhm, I think I do.” He joked, grinding his hips down into one of your thighs, pressing the erection that was straining into his jeans into your thigh, and you both let out whimpers at the action.

“Then fuck me, Stiles, show me I affect you like you affect me. Fuck me, now.”

“I will, I promise.” He cooed, grinning into your skin, his face buried in your neck as he sunk a single finger into you, all the way down to the knuckle, feeling your velvety walls clench around him immediately, coating his skin in your juices. “I gotta’ open you up first, get you ready for m’ cock, okay? And, I do just really want to fuck you with my tongue.”

With that, he was slipping out of your eyesight and down your body, his arms wrapping under your thighs as he situated himself between your legs, letting out a shaky breath as he lapped at his lips and stared lustfully at your centre. You felt drunk on his touch, everything in your world seeming hazy and blurry as he pressed kisses up along the inside of your thighs, his teeth dragging against the soft skin, and you felt your breath hold in your lungs as he came to the apex of your thighs. That second-long pause felt like it dragged on for hours, before his tongue was finally dragging slowly along your core, a trail from your entrance to your clit, and a loud moan tore from you at the feeling of his mouth on you.

His lips sealed around your clit, sucking harshly, and your back arched up from the bed as he barely did anything, and yet pleasure was already spiking along your entire body. He dragged his tongue, flat and warm, over the bud and made sure that he moved as slowly as possible, teasing you endlessly, despite how much you wanted more. You wanted to remember this moment and make the most of it, but you couldn't think about anything but the pure bliss Stiles was giving to you, the way he was drinking up every drop of arousal you made, the way he was sucking and nibbling at your core in a most delectable way that had a heat curling in your belly and your body somewhere between relaxed and tense.

Once he was satisfied that he had licked up everything you had already given, his mouth closed over you, the tip of his tongue poking and prodding at your entrance and teasing the hole, before dipping his tongue into you, and he groaned out as his mouth was flooded with more waves of your juices. You clenched around the wet muscle eagerly, feeling the way your own body was reacting to him like you never had with anyone else, and your hips rocked up into his face, rolling in repeated motions to meet the thrusts of his tongue in and out of you.

“Fuck, Stiles!”

His chuckle was muffled against your core, the feeling of it vibrating along you body though, and the upturned tip of his cute little nose was once again you downfall, though now instead of being due to making your heart race, it was instead form the way it was nudging against the throbbing bud nestled between your legs, and you felt the nerves in you body zapping and jolting with electricity each time he tilted his head or dove into you even deeper than he already was.

His fingers were digging into your thighs, holding you close to him as you cried out his name, and he was moaning into your centre with each flick of his tongue and drag of his lips against your dripping cunt, slurping sounds that would make a pornstar blush, and you brought up a shaky hand to thread into his hair, tugging on the chocolate locks in warning. You felt the heat overwhelm you, your body tensing and back arching up until it was no longer on the bed and your legs clamping around his head as you came, his name leaving your lips as a sob when he bit down on your clit just enough to spur on your orgasm with a little more power.

Your body was shaking and muscles cramping up, your skin shining with a sheen of sweat and he continued to greedily lap at your hole until you were oversensitive and pushing him away prying your own legs open to release him, and when he popped back into your line of sight, he was wearing own of the cockiest looks you had ever seen on him. His cheeks and chin were shining, and his lips were swollen, hair messy from where your fingers were tangled in the strands and he kissed his way back up your body, smearing your sin with your own fluids, and taking his time in making sure he had kissed and licked at every bit of skin, until his mouth was moving across your cheek and back to your lips.

“You tasted so fucking good, you want to try?” His words were deep, and seductive, and his voice was raspier than you had ever heard it, even in the mornings when the two of you had fallen asleep slumped against one another on the couch after marathoning a new TV show. You found yourself nodding before you even really processed the words, and he beamed down at you with a filthy smile, his thumb pulling your bottom lip down and opening your mouth just enough for his tongue to slither out and play with yours when his lips slanted across your own.

It was a taste you weren’t used to, foreign in your mouth and unexpected and yet it was just a little sweet, like he had said. It was mixed with the taste of him, one which you much preferred but at this point every inhibition you had was thrown out of the window because right now you were drowning in the way his lips played with your own, his lips tempting yours into the interaction alongside his. For a few minutes, you just lay there, your fingers weaved into his hair as you made out, lazy and messy and hot in a way you couldn't even begin to explain, but each kiss left you breathless and craving more, and each flittering touch of his hands along your body as he moved them, dragging them over every limb and expanse of skin, had your body setting alight once again.

“How do you feel?”

“I feel fucking incredible.” You smiled up at him dopily, and he laughed down at you, the moment so incredibly intimate that you felt like your heart was swelling up, and his finger tapped the tip of your nose, before brushing over your kiss-bitten and pouted lips, letting you kiss the pad of his finger.

“Yeah? That’s good, I like this. Us. I like us being like this, it sorta’ feels like one of those lazy Sunday mornings. Don’t you think?” Your arms wrapped around his neck, and you pulled up your legs to clamp around his hips, humming thoughtfully as you considered his words.

“I do, but-” you paused in your words, flipping the two of you over, and he let out a sound of sunrise and shock, before he was staring up at you in awe and swallowing thickly as he found himself on his back, watching your tits bounce above him as you leaned down, hair framing your face and lips barely touching his. “-if this was a lazy Sunday morning, you definitely wouldn't be wearing jeans, and I would be able to ride you a lot easier.”

To emphasise your point, your rocked your hips down into him gently, your eyes rolling a little and eyes fluttering shut as the denim he wore grazed against your sensitive core, a wet patch being left over the bulge of his jeans, the two of you watching between your bodies as trails of slick leaked from you, covering the front of his pants each time you rose up and pushed back down into his covered erection. “You are everything wet dreams are made of.”

His words were groaned out, his hands coming down between your bodies, and he rose his legs behind you, bumping you up just high enough that when his hips lifted from the bed with you sat in his lap, he was able to push his jeans and boxers down to his mid-thighs. His cock was pulsing with need, skin hot and flushed and dripping with precum, both of you letting out squeaky and broken sounds of satisfaction when his cock rubbed against your folds.

Grinding down onto him, his legs fell flat, both of you far too needy for a connection to even undress him properly, and you sat up, hands splayed over his chest for leverage and knees digging into the mattress on either side of his hips, giving you the leverage you needed to be able to rock your hips into him.

The head of his cock pushed against your neglected bead each time, his cock and thighs shining with your arousal as you pleased yourself, whimpering at each strangled noise he let out as his hands clenched by his sides, chest rising and falling under your palms as your dragged your pussy up and down his cock, feeling him nudge against your hole each time, but you were enjoying the build-up a little too much, and you could tell he was too, from the way his face was scrunched up in pleasure and the way his lips were parted to let out short breaths.

“Please, princess. I need to be inside you, I have been wishing for this moment for almost a year, don’t make me wait any longer.”

You nodded, lifting yourself up as he quickly took himself within his hand, pumping himself easily with all the slick on his skin, before he was lining himself up, his eyes finding yours and his other hand finding your jaw, bringing your lips down to meet his in a tender kiss as he felt you sink down onto his cock, gasping against your mouth and nibbling on your lower lip as you took him into your warmth, inch by inch until he was fully sheathed within you.

He let out a long and shuddering breath when your hips met his, your walls clamping around him and flexing experimentally, and he wiggled happily, his whole body deflating as a look of ecstasy and joy took him over. “Holy fuck, you feel incredible.”

You rolled your hips back, circling them slowly as you adjusted to his size, and you felt the breath knocked from your lungs as he dragged against every inch of your walls slowly. There was no barrier between you, and your forehead dropped down to press against his as you experimented with the swivels of your hips and the movements you made, trying to find a rhythm of what worked best for the both of you. His hands came up to your hips, holding on tightly and helping you move, and when his noises picked up in frequency and pitch at the same time that your own eyes rolled back and your skin erupted in goosebumps was when you knew you had found the best way to move.

You left a series of prolonged and loving kisses to his lips, feeling him lean up into it as best as possible, before your nails were digging into his skin scraping lightly as you moved yourself back to sitting up on his lap. He stretched you out, his generous girth and length filling you to the brim, and he was tapping against spots you didn’t even know you had, bringing you more pleasure than you could possibly have imagined, and you clenched around him tightly and rolled the muscles in your stomach. “Oh, God! Don’t do that unless you want me to cum in like thirty seconds, because that was fucking incredible, but I won’t last if you do.”

His words were wheezed out and you smirked, repeating the action and watching the way he writhed and squirmed underneath you, and he shot you a mock glare, pinching at your thighs and making you jump in a way that brought both of you a little jolt of electricity.

“You are a hazard to my fucking health, princess.”

A needy noise left you at the pet name, and you began to bob up and down on his shaft, throwing you head back as you took what you wanted, the feeling of another climax buildings as creeping through your veins and making your vision flash with spots as your eyes rolled, and your lips were drying with each quick pant you took for breath. The angle changed when he pushed himself up onto his hands, and a cry left you, your legs tightening around him as he pushed against a certain spot.

“There?”

“Right there, Stiles! Fuck, please!” Your hands were in his hair, his lips on your tits and teeth grazing your skin as he tried to buck up to meet your movements, and you only sped up more and more as you found yourself becoming comfortable in your motions. The room seemed to fade away, nothing mattered between the two of you except the way his hands felt on your body and the way his cock felt every time it slid out of you almost entirely, before you were slamming yourself back or him and crying out his name.

His own mumbles of praise and arousal were spurring you on, your body feeling like it was on cloud nine, and you no longer felt intoxicated on anything except the feeling of his body underneath you, the way he looked at you lighting you up and the way he kissed you making you feel like nothing would ever matter again. Stiles meant everything, he was made for you, and you could feel from the way the pair of you fit so well together that nothing would ever matter again, as long as you had him and he had you.

Your muscles were growing tired, your knees aching thighs screaming out, but your climax was so close that you could barely even speak sentences now, nothing but his name and your begs for more, and you could feel him twitching and leaking precum within you as he neared his peak. He fell back until he was laying down again, his legs still popped up behind you and you followed after him, a hand on either side of his head as his thrusts into you became easier for him, your jaw slack and tears lining your eyes as pure pleasure overtook you.

He picked up his pace, chasing his own high as well as yours frantically and the press of your chest to his, the feel of the short hairs at his base tickling against your overstimulated clit was enough to completely drive you into bliss. He was pounding into you, never letting up as he kissed your through your climax, feeling you scream out into his mouth as he muffled your sounds and made sure to fuck you through until you could no longer take it. You were scratching at his chest, shaking as everything all when into hyperdrive, feeling like you were floating as he flipped you over, holding your legs up and open as he desperately fucked into your abused hole, wetness on your cheeks as a third orgasm built, straight off of the second one and it all became too much.

His fingers on your clit, his mouth on your chest, his cock stretching you out wide and dragging against your rim with each deep and penetrating thrust, and your fingers tangled in the bedsheets as you thrashed happily under him. Nothing had ever felt this good, no orgasm you’d ever had with anyone else or alone, nothing you had even imagined, and every nerve within you was sparking and crackling with energy as you finally exploded for a third and final time.

You clenched around him so hard that you dragged him over the edge with you, his body collapsing down onto you as he went entirely boneless, spasming atop you as the two of you pressed together and rolled through your peaks. Spurts of hot and thick cum filled you up in ropes, spattering against your walls and filling you up, so much so that each time he shafted you could feel him leaking out of you and dripping down into the bedsheets below, and he pressed multiple soft and chaste kisses to the skin that he could reach, before letting out a deep and satisfied groan.

“Oh, my God. That was the best sex I’ve ever fucking had.” He was crushing you, but you still managed to let out a small giggle underneath him, before he was rolling himself off of you and pulling out, a relieved sigh on your lips as he did. “You’re incredible, absolutely amazing, the best. Just the best. Fuck, I can’t wait to do that again, and just be with you. This is going to be great, an-”

You pressed up to push your lips against his, and he let out a soft sound when you did, before his lips were curling up in a smile and he was kissing you back as best he could.

“You were rambling. You’re even more affectionate after sex.”

“Are you complaining?”

“No! God, no, I love it.” You rubbed the tip of your nose with his, before you were sitting up and grumbling at the protests your body made as you did. “I like it when you’re all clingy and needy, it makes me feel less weird about it when I do the same to you.”

“I like it when you get all touchy, and now I can really do something about it, because let me tell you, all those cute time that you’d come over and just want to cuddle me while I was cooking for us or when you’d hold my hand when we went shopping or lean into me when you’re tired? I wanted to kiss you so fucking badly, and now I can.” Long fingers brushed sweaty and matted hair out of your face, and he pressed his lips to your forehead, before standing up and shucking off the jeans that were still pooled around his calves, kicking off all the remnants of his clothing.

“I can’t wait, because a little secret would be that I wanted you to kiss me in all of those times, too.”

“Good to know, princess.” You hummed, accepting the hands he was holding out to you, and his eyes scanned along your naked form, swallowing thickly and averting his eyes when he caught sight of the mess leaking out of you. “We should get cleaned up, then you can have those cuddles I promised you.”

“Bath time, then a movie?”

“Sounds perfect to me.”

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baldwinboy5ive · 3 years ago

Text

A few scattered Hawk, Johnny, and Demetri thoughts and headcanons

How Hawk Will Atone in Season 4

This is a dumbass joke I shared this with some friends outside of tumblr, but I needed to save this for posterity, so I’m posting this here as well even though it’s hilariously outlandish. All because I saw this comment and couldn’t stop laughing about it:

But it turns out this conversation was happening at the same time as a discussion about Johnny’s and Demetri’s heights, and I pointed out Demetri is actually taller. We were talking about how, especially after critiquing Kreese’s tattoo, Demetri needs to insult Terry as well. Demetri goes up against Terry Silver, annoys the shit out of him, calls the earring tacky, you know - just Demetri doing his little Demetri things, hahaha. Then Hawk swoops in, swiping a sharpened sai from the Cobra Kai dojo wall - Stingray pops out of nowhere just to remind everyone that it’s Raphael’s weapon - and Hawk brandishes it over Terry Silver. It probably looks something like the imagery on the Narmer Palette, which shows the king grasping the head of a conquered enemy by the hair, and raising a mace in the other hand to strike him with, a picture of complete dominance.

Hawk then leaps at Terry and slices the sai across his neck offscreen. (I recall it was @phoomwhoosh who reminded me that the hawk screech sound effect has to be played here, as well.) Next thing you see is Hawk victoriously brandishing the ponytail and yelling in triumph, holding it up for everyone to see, and all of the other students cheering him on, with Terry slumped on the ground, defeated and humiliated.

Hawk goes up to Daniel-san, reverently lays the ponytail at his feet, and says with a bow, “For atonement, for what I did to your dojo, and for stealing your sensei’s Medal of Honor.”

Daniel: “........................ you did fucking what now”

“Babes means babes.”

“Babes” is gender-neutral. I love the notion of bisexual-even-if-he-doesn’t-even-know-that-word Johnny Lawrence just calling any hot person a babe. He thinks Daniel LaRusso’s a babe. He told Hawk at Valley Fest that the flashiest way to show off the board breaking was to “pull the hottest babe onstage and make them hold it” (Hawk listened).

Daniel: “Johnny, when you constantly say that you hooked up with plenty of ‘babes,’ do you mean men and women, or -?”

Johnny: “Babes means babes, LaRusso, don’t be weird about it.”

Just Hawk

Not sure if this is just another dumb joke of mine or a realistic headcanon, but I say Johnny doesn’t actually know Hawk’s real name. Maybe this is realistic, though? Which is sad. I mean, he ignored that kid so much. And I genuinely think it might actually be possible that Johnny never had a single kid fill out paperwork, and only Kreese had them do it once he stepped in (he mentioned Tory’s) and took care of administrative things like paying Johnny’s bills and the like. (Oddly enough, Johnny does know Demetri’s name. Not sure why, but he does.)

Speaking of names:

The Assassination of Eli Moskowitz by the Coward Demetri Nolastname

Really, most of the things I desperately want for season 4 are not going to happen, so I’ll just lower all my expectations and just wish for this one single thing: please give us Demetri’s last name. I need to know it!

Important note: I do not think of Demetri as an actual coward, this is just the same damn dumbass joke I’ve been recycling for years now, starting from way back when I said “The Assassination of Greedo the Rodian by the Coward Han Solo.”

And a tangent: I’ve never even seen that movie, but after hearing Martin Kove talk so much about his love for Westerns I’m kind of interested, haha.

Demetri’s Future

This one comes straight from @idontknowkaratebutiknowcrazy and I love it so much that I have majorly latched onto it: Demetri becomes a standup comic when he’s a little older. The credit for this idea goes fully to her! And it truly is an amazing idea. @idontknowkaratebutiknowcrazy also suggested Demetri becoming a comic book creator, which I also love so much, but he could be both! Because whatever he ends up doing, he can definitely do standup on the side. And, man, I just rewatched The Assassination of Eli Moskowitz by the Coward Demetri Nolastname (again: not actually a coward) and his delivery is SMOOTH as silk. He’s so good. And obviously very engaging with the crowd.

If only I could write fics, I’d love to write this one: Demetri starts finding some success after awhile, and his binary boyfriend Eli attends some of his sets, and they both watch a lot of other comics because of Demetri being in that world now. Some of them kill, some of them bomb, and some are just average. Demetri does all three, sometimes all in the same night. Eventually, Demetri has a big night where he headlines a show, and a bunch of their friends come, along with their senseis. Demetri spends a good portion of his set roasting Sensei Lawrence. (The man spent years listening to and following orders from a dude with an inaccurate cobra tattoo, for crying out loud - round pupils, REALLY.) Sensei LaRusso loves it. Eli’s so proud of how well Demetri did in his headline show, but because Sensei Lawrence was in attendance too, Eli says to everyone else later: “I’ve never seen someone kill that hard, and then be killed that hard after the show.”

Hawk’s Just a Simple Man, Trying to Make His Way in the Dojo

Hawk’s trying to figure himself out. He has a bit of an identity crisis when he’s in the transition period between Cobra Kai and Eagle Fang/Miyagi-Do/Whatever the Fuck, and is still figuring out who he is, and whether or not he still does or does not like Nerd Shit. Even more confusing is: does Star Wars count as Nerd Shit? It’s pretty nerdy, yeah, but is it really Nerd Shit when it’s so popular and almost everyone watches at least the main movies?

And Johnny was really at the actual perfect age for watching Star Wars when it came out. Look, I don’t care how much the guy rewatches Iron Eagle on a loop, Star Wars was a cultural juggernaut when it happened (and never went away) and - really, I don’t care who you are, Star Wars is for everybody. I’m even hearing Johnny’s voice in the bit where he goes “It doesn’t matter if you’re a freak, or a nerd, or a loser... all that matters is that you become badass!”

It DOESN’T matter! It doesn’t matter if you’re a freak, a cool popular kid, a loser, a weirdo, a nerd, a normal everyday average joe, or anything at all really - you can watch and like Star Wars, haha.

Sure, maybe Johnny didn’t watch many, if any at all, of the movies past the original trilogy, but here’s another headcanon. He really enjoyed at least the OT, and once Hawk and Demetri find out, it starts to crack at the walls Hawk put up around himself about all the Nerd Shit. He still isn’t sure whether it’s okay to like Star Wars because it’s cool, or whether it’s okay to like Star Wars because he really is still into all that nerd shit... but then Hawk eventually comes to terms with all of it by realizing that it doesn’t actually matter what kind of labels get put on all of this. After all, Sensei Lawrence doesn’t care that much, despite how much he throws words like “loser” around. To him, it was just a cool movie. (Later, when Hawk gets much more comfortable in his own skin, then he can enjoy the truly nerdy shit like Clone Wars and Rebels ahahaah.)

So far, they didn’t really do too many of these kinds of training exercises on the show, but Mr. Miyagi blindfolded Julie Pierce and trained her to use her other senses. Perhaps Daniel got some of that training off-screen too, and begins to teach it to the students. They all start with a kata and blocking drills with their eyes closed. Hawk has some trouble at first, and it’s actually Johnny who says “If you keep opening your eyes, I’m gonna come over there and put a bucket on your head like Obi-Wan did to Luke. And we used that bucket for washing the cars for like the hundredth time.”

“Sensei, you know Star Wars?!” Hawk says incredulously.

And then it’s everyone else who’s incredulous: who the fuck doesn’t know Star Wars?

And that’s how that all began.

#cobra kai hawk #johnny lawrence #cobra kai #eli moskowitz #cobra kai demetri

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quinintheclouds · 4 years ago

Text

YES YES YES YES YES

Spoilers for RWBY Volume 8 Chapter 6

THAT WAS SO MUCH MORE THAN I HAD EVEN LET MYSELF HOPE FOR

It really looks like this is the Volume the writers realized how many answers we’ve needed for years and years, and is answering them now. I wish it’d come sooner, of course, but since they can’t go back and fix the pacing or writing, I’m really impressed and optimistic about how Volume 8 is going!

BUT MORE SPECIFICALLY

I would like to GUSH about how they handled the Oscar and Ozpin scenes. We have needed, nay, BEGGED for this sort of development, and it’s finally here. There’s too much I want to rave about so bullet point time!

[Note: I love the farmboy so this wound up longer than expected -- have a read more for your scrolling convenience -- TL;DR at the end]

We got confirmation that Ozpin has been pleading with Oscar to let him take over so he can burden the pain and torture instead. Oscar is the one refusing, choosing to take it himself because he knows Salem and Hazel will be much harsher on Oz. I thought that was the case, but I’m so glad they addressed it because otherwise we’d be wondering why Oz hasn’t offered. It does make me wonder, is Oz still able to take control without asking? Oscar was able to fight it in vol 6, and he’s come a long way.

Hazel is holding back -- at least, Oscar says he can tell that he is. This would keep in line with the battle at Haven, when Hazel was suspiciously playing defense and stalling by letting Ozpin monologue, then letting Oscar give a little protagonist speech... I mean, it sure doesn’t LOOK like he’s holding back. Look at this kid:

moving on before I cry,

Ozpin suggests he take over and try to escape.

Oscar says no, he has a better idea. “This is our chance.”

Oz: “Hm. Maybe you’ve taken one too many hits.” I like this for two reasons: one, because it gives us a taste of the ol’ lighthearted Ozpin humor we’ve missed since he’s been gone, and two, because it shows that he and Oscar think differently. They have different thought processes, ideas, etc. Oz didn’t immediately know what Oscar was planning.

Oscar explains that Salem can’t take on everyone at once, and thus has been sending people to infiltrate all of remnant first, to attack from within.

I LOVE that they had Oscar come up with this, because it is so in line with his character development in Volume 7. Not to mention how in volume 6 he was the one to figure out how to defeat Cordovin’s mecha. It’s cool to see him as a strategist, because while he’s a sweet kid from the middle of nowhere, he’s proven to be really smart and quick.

Plus, this gives him agency. People wanted Ozpin to return and save Oscar, but this is so, so much better. Oscar’s idea, Oscar’s choice, and Oz gets right on board. They’re agreeing to work together, despite their unresolved conflict. “Ozma learned the importance of living with the souls with which he’d been paired.”

AND THEN, A MOMENT I CANNOT THANK RT ENOUGH FOR:

The captions don’t show it, but Oscar AND Ozpin said this in unison. Now, this and the few seconds that follow were a rollercoaster of emotions. Let’s break it down:

When they said this together, I was positively GIDDY with excitement: they’re leaning into the “like-minded souls” thing and calling attention to the situation! Surely this must be a sign that Oscar and Ozpin will indeed both exist when their souls are one, as they are both equally parts of the combination of lives that is Ozma. Well, maybe not equally (yet?).

Then, my elation was replaced with dread. What if this was actually an indication of them “merging” in the way some of the FNDM interpret it will go, rather than how I think it does? Or what if that’s not what RT is doing, but what if the FNDM takes it as a sign Ozpin is taking over?? I can’t last the whole break without knowing!

AND THEN!!! Ugh, this made me so relieved. Ozpin says, in a slightly amused tone of voice with a trace of a laugh, “We certainly are similar, you and I.” YESSSSS more references to them being like-minded souls!! But still having differences!!

“Maybe we have been presented with an opportunity.” I’m really glad they went the route where Oscar is changing Ozpin’s mind on things. Oz no longer thinks he knows best, and is allowing Oscar to come into his own. Now he’s seeing how far Oscar’s come and the person he is.

Related note: The commentary for the vol 7 finale said that it was Oscar’s speeches to Ironwood about fear and trust that made Oz realize he’s been keeping secrets and hiding out of fear, and inspired him to come back. This is so promising for Oscar’s character going forward.

[Side note: Would love more info on what Oscar meant in volume 7 when he said “these memories... you’re back, aren’t you?” because? Is he just referring to the scenes with things like how he talked about Atlas’ history as if he were there, or does he have access to Oz’s memories now? 2 chapters ago we saw that he doesn’t yet know the location of the Beacon Relic. So unless he was lying really well, he doesn’t have ALL the memories yet. So which ones does he have? RT EXPLAIN]

Next,

I would like to call attention to the fact that Oscar smiled here. After Ozpin said they were similar, I was worried Oscar would react the way he has in the past: sad and conflicted about his identity, worried he’s becoming less of himself. But no. Like we saw in Volume 7, THIS is who Oscar Pine is. His development was his own, and we get to see that when Ozpin returned because Oscar had made him rethink his choices. Oscar Pine is more himself now than he’s been at any other point in the series.

It’s really brilliant how the writers have used these last 2 volumes to show that Penny, the robot, is one of the most human characters on the show; and Oscar, the boy cursed to death and rebirth with a soul that was not his own, is one of the most individualistic ones. It’s just really cool how they’re playing with our expectations of the characters. (They’re doing great with Salem, too!)

[Side note: Penny’s soul/aura was given to her by Pietro, and they still have distinct personalities and identities. It’s possible that’s a parallel to Oscar’s situation, but I do feel the merge’s completion will result in one remaining soul/identity - just not a “taking over” situation]

Okay, that’s the last of that rollercoaster I mentioned.

Time to get on a new one!

At long last, this episode finally gave us something we haven’t had since chapter 4 of volume SIX*:

*(I am not counting the one second of "Oscar." *glowy eyes* *Oscar blinks and is back in control* in the vol 7 finale)

OZPIN IS BACK!!!!

First, HELL YES I WANTED THIS TO HAPPEN!!!

Second, wow, they can change really quickly now. At first it took effort and was super visible, then just shook Oscar up a bit with the glowy eyes, and now it seems almost effortless, seamless. The eyes glow and the transition is smooth. I like it.

We didn’t get to hear Oscar’s thoughts after Oz said “Oscar, please,” begging him again to let him take control. So we don’t know whether Oscar allowed it out of pain, exhaustion, their plan, or a decision to trust Oz and work together here. Alternatively, Ozpin may have simply taken over of his own accord. I wish the writers would give us more insight to Oscar’s thoughts, because those scenes already have him talking inside/to his own head, so leaving some of his thoughts out can seem intentional and open-ended, which could mean more dragging out answers, but I think this was fine. Not the worst case of this by far lol

WHEN! HE! SPOKE!

I was hoping for this with all my heart. Over the course of volume 7 in particular, we saw Oscar’s voice, mannerisms, and speech patters start to resemble Ozpin’s. However, he still sounds and feels like Oscar. Going back to Volume 5, heck, even Volume 6 (which is when we last saw Ozpin in control), the voice of Ozpin speaking through Oscar is similar, but distinctly different from how Oscar’s speaking now. So I’ve been theorizing and hoping, and it CAME TRUE! Ozpin sounds more like Oscar now, while still managing to clearly be Ozpin.

Right from the first “Hello,” it was noticeable. It sounded almost like Oscar. I know it’s the same voice actor when one of them is in control (same body, same vocal cords), but that just makes it even more impressive. This is the first time we’ve heard Ozpin’s voice speaking through Oscar since QRWBY yelled at him in the snow in vol 6. And I was NOT disappointed.

“Why do you follow her?” I’ll keep saying it, but he sounds so much like Oscar confronting Ironwood.

“I know how you see me. But her? Look at what she does, how is she the answer, why not stop her??” This gives me serious deja vu to Oscar’s speech towards Hazel in the Battle of Haven (and his speech towards Ironwood in v7′s finale). That speech had given Hazel pause then, and this one does as well, now. Ozpin sounds angrier, though, more aware of just how far gone these people are, but knowing they can change.

Hazel calls Ozpin out for the same thing the FNDM has been, and honestly, it’s been a long time coming. Hazel’s motivations are extremely misguided, Oscar was right to stand up for Oz/Gretchen at Haven, and the show really needed to reinforce the Ozpin-isn’t-bad-actually thing. Now it’s all out in the open. But it’s Ozpin’s response to this that elevated this scene even more:

That’s it. Ozma has spent countless lives fighting a war that may be impossible to win. But if no one tries, no one will survive. The gods will destroy all of Remnant. Still, every single lifetime, he chooses to try. Like Oscar said in volume 5 (about Hazel’s sister but writing-wise also kinda about Pyrrha), “She made a choice! A choice to put others before herself. So do I.” Like-minded souls.

AND THIS!!! Good gods I’m glad he said this. The show went way too long before anyone even questioned the “You can’t” answer from Jinn. Nora mentioned it in passing earlier, which I liked a lot (though this really should’ve been discussed in volume 6, but better late than never). But here? We see that Oz never gave up, never planned on losing, not sending people to a battle he “knows they can’t win.” While Salem is immortal, she is not infallible. Not even the gods were. Salem can be fought. Even Hazel has a moment of hesitation, perhaps even realization, before Salem enters.

Salem manipulates Cinder, offering her the maiden powers she wants so badly, and Ozpin interjects. “You’ll only be helping her bring about the end, for all of you!”

I just wanted to show these shots because again, just as we’ve seen Oscar’s mannerisms become increasingly similar to Ozpin’s, now that he’s back, we get to see the other way around. Look at the surprise and fear on his face. Look at how he widens his eyes and raises his eyebrows instead of narrowing/furrowing them now. Listen to the sounds he makes when tortured or thrown about. Listen to the desperation and earnest passion held in his pleas. He’s no longer hiding -- he’s being honest with the people who scare him most, and truly trying to help them see the light.

[Side note: Cinder is not showing remorse in this scene, but I wonder how she’d react to Oscar, not Ozpin, being tortured. In the same episode, we have Cinder being tortured with a shock collar, AND we have Oscar decide to try to appeal to the humanity left in these villains. Last time we saw Oscar, Salem was torturing him with intense, almost electric magic. She might not care, but I wonder...]

ANYWAY I’m done for now. Have a TL;DR that wound up being long too

TL;DR:

Basically, I’m super happy with the writers for the detail put into these scenes:

they confirmed Oz has been begging to take over and bear the torture instead

had Oscar come up with an idea himself instead of getting rescued or immediately escaping

had Oscar view his dire situation as an opportunity, reminding us of his optimism and capabilities as a strategist

had Ozpin not know what Oscar’s plan was before he explained it (this might change as the souls become one, but it at least shows they think differently)

Oscar’s plan to appeal to the villains’ humanity and infiltrate Salem’s forces from within lining up with his volume 7 character development

had Oz trust Oscar and put his faith in him, which is progress for Oz

Oz and Oscar speaking in unison and agreeing to work together

Ozpin’s comment about them being similar, not the same

had Ozpin take control to speak to Hazel

Ozpin’s speech to Hazel and Cinder as parallels to Oscar’s speeches to Hazel and Ironwood, which CRWBY said were the reason Oz realized his secrecy is out of fear of trust, and Oscar’s points are what inspired him to come back.

Ozpin sounding and acting more like Oscar just like we’ve seen happen the other way around (though with Oscar, he’s holding true to his own ideas/morals, with Oz meeting him there)

established hope for some of our villains to defect, setting it in motion.

#oscar pine #professor ozpin #rwby ozma #the merge #rwby ozcar #hate calling them that lol but it's a useful tag #rwby8 #rwby #quinpost

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