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harringtonstilinski · 4 years ago

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Do You Know Who I Am? - Dylan O’Brien

Author: @stilinskiparker Characters: Dylan O’Brien x Reader Word Count: 1633 Warnings: our boy’s a little cocky, sexual tension, Requested: ”OMG CAN YOU DO A COCKY DYLAN FULL OF SECUAL TENSION PLEASE!!!” A/N: Hi, friends! Here’s Cocky Dyl with sexual tension for my anon friend! I’m gonna lie, this was kinda hard to write, just because I didn’t know like when I wanted to place the story. I really tried to make our boy all cocky, so please let me know if I did, haha. But, all in all, I hope it meets your expectations! As always, read at your own risk and enjoy 😊

Part 2 |

Hearing my friend, Amber, sigh dreamily had me looking over at her. “What?” I asked.

“Haven’t you ever seen anything more beautiful in your entire life?” she asked, chin resting in her palms.

“What are you talking about?” I sighed, turning to look at her.

She pointed in front of her, saying, “Him.” Following her finger at what she was pointing at with a confused face, I looked at the source of her daydream smile.

Dylan O’-fucking-Brien.

I rolled my eyes and groaned, “Eck.”

“What’s wrong with him? He’s beautiful, sweet, talented, funny--”

“Cocky asshole?” I suggested.

She snorted. “You’re just jealous.”

“Me? Jealous?” I chuckled. “No.”

“You’ve seen his stuff,” she said.

“Yeah, and I’ve also seen the interviews that go along with the press junket,” I said. “He’s a cocky asshole. Thinks he can get anything he wants. I mean, have you seen his Twitter? He fucking roasted a bunch of his fans and then said it was fun! What kind of ‘sweet’ person does that?”

“Maybe it’s his personality?” she defended.

“Or maybe it’s the fact that he’s a famous actor with parental ties to the business,” I said.

My friend sighed, hanging her head. “Just because your dad produced Teen Wolf and you just happened to recently be on set when he wasn’t having a very good day doesn’t mean he’s a cocky asshole.”

“Hmmmm,” I hummed. “Yeah, it kind of does.”

“But isn’t he dreamy?” she said.

I rolled my eyes. “Whatever.”

Perking up, she stood to her full height, facing me. “Oh, hey! There’s this party tonight. I think we should go.”

Sighing exasperatedly, I tilted my head back. “I hate parties.”

“Yeah, but you might like this one.”

“Every time you say that and what happens not long after we get there?”

“I lose you and end up finding you in the living room the next morning drinking your coffee and eating your breakfast,” she said, almost ashamedly.

“Yeah. And every time you promise to not leave me, but you do it anyway.”

“Okay, well, I promise for real this time.”

I looked at her like I didn’t believe her answer. “If you do, I’ll hunt you down, find a radiator and handcuff you to it… after I find said handcuffs.”

It was quiet for a few seconds before I looked back up at her, seeing her smile. Reminded me of that episode of SpongeBob where Squidward sneaks into the Krabby Patty Vault and SpongeBob smiles at him.

“You’ve been watching Teen Wolf haven’t you?” she asked, that smile still plastered onto her face.

“May-maybe,” I said.

She gasped and touched my arm. “Who’s your favorite character?” “I don’t know his name,” I said. “The kid with the buzzcut.”

All movements from her stopped as I watched her look out the window then back to me.

“I hate to break it to you, babe,” she said. “But that kid with the buzzcut just so happens to be outside.”

I looked from her back to Dylan standing outside. “It’s just a character he plays. He’s not that sweet in real life.”

Cue the ringing of the bell on the door as it opened, said cocky boy walking in. All the girls in the little cafe start giggling and whisper excitedly about the fact that their favorite celebrity just walked in.

I scoffed at them, not seeing whatever they see in him.

Was he attractive? Yeah, sure.

Was he kind of demanding? You bet your ass he was!

The day that I was on set with my dad at Teen Wolf was the day that I saw the real Dylan, bad day or not.

I was walking across the lot where they had the trailers to take something to Crystal’s trailer when Dylan opened his trailer door, talking to someone on the phone. I rolled my eyes as he put his phone against his chest as the producer said they were ready for him.

“Oh, you’re ready for me?” he asked, to which she said yes to. “Oh, that’s funny. That’s very funny. I’m not exactly ready for you. So, uh, take it easy.” He put the phone back up to his ear saying, “Yeah, no, I’m sorry, one second.” He took his shakes off, looking at the producer. “You see these? I could fucking kill you. Get out of my sight.”

“Uhm, he’s gonna be another five to ten,” she said into the walkie talkie before looking up at him. “Yeah, that’s fine, that’s fine.”

Putting the phone back up to his ear, he said, “Yeah, sorry about that. Alright, what’s the offer? Well, if they don’t have a fucking offer, I don’t want it.”

“Uhm, hey, Tyler?” I said.

“Yeah,” he said, jogging over to me. “What’s up?”

“Where’s Crystal’s trailer?” I asked. “I’m supposed to drop these off.”

“Oh, sure yeah,” he said. “Here I’ll take over there.”

From that day on, I never wanted to be around Dylan O’Brien again.

“If you tell me that story one more time, I swear to God, I’m gonna scream,” Amber said.

“Don’t subject yourself to the freak out session that’s going on around here,” I replied.

Seeing a cup being placed down in front of me, I looked up at the owner. “What do you want, O’Brien?”

“Why haven’t you been on set?” he asked.

“Because I don’t want to,” I replied, more of a question.

He scoffed before lightly chuckling. “I’ll see you at the party tonight.”

“What party?” I asked.

“Teen Wolf’s having a wrap party for this season,” he explained. “Your dad’s gonna be there, which means you have to be, as well.”

I looked at Amber, asking, “Is that the party you were talking about?”

She shook her head, “No, I was talking about a different one in Beverly Hills.”

Looking back at Dylan, I asked, “Where’s the wrap party being held?”

“LA,” he said. “I gotta go. Make sure you wear something… a little nice.” He winked after grabbing his cup off the table, putting his sunglasses back on before going back outside.

“God, he’s such a dick,” I muttered.

“Yeah, but a very hot dick,” Amber said.

“Shut up.”

~~~

“What are you gonna wear?” Amber asked.

“Hell if I know,” I said. “I don’t even want to go.”

“(Y/N), you have to,” she said. “It’s for your dad.”

“(Y/N)! Are you ready?” Dad asked.

I sighed. “I guess everyone’s wanting me tonight.”

Amber chuckled. “Go. Have fun and tell me everything.”

“I can tell you right now; nothing!” I chuckled. “I’ll talk to you later.”

Opening the door, my dad was standing on the other side, dressed up a little more than what he normally was.

“Ready?” he asked.

“As I’ll ever be,” I sighed.

Walking out of the house and to the car to be driven to the venue of the wrap party, I still didn’t wanna go. I sighed for what seemed like the eighty-fifth time since we left.

“Alright,” Dad said. “What is it? What’s going on?”

“I just really don’t want to go,” I said.

“It’ll be fun,” he tried to reassure me.

I turned my head to look at him, a deadpan expression on my face. “I’d rather stare at my ceiling for three hours than go to this party. I mean, I’m not even a part of the show. Why do I even have to be there?”

“One, for me,” he said. “And two, because… I was asked if you were going to be there?”

“By who?”

He didn’t say anything, just looked out the window.

“Daddy? Who asked?” I pressed.

Again, he didn’t say anything. I was silent until it finally clicked. “Oh, my God. If it was Dylan--”

“It was, and you’re gonna be nice to him.”

I sighed exasperatedly, “But he’s such a dick!”

“Who told you that?”

“I saw it first hand.” Pulling up to the venue, I took a deep breath. “Let’s get this over with.”

After getting out of the car, I gave my thanks to my dad’s driver before walking along the small carpet, stopping to take a couple pictures. Once inside the venue, I immediately rolled my eyes at who’s picture I saw on the screen.

“Of course,” I muttered.

“Of course what, angel?”

Rolling my eyes, I turned around and faced him. “Everywhere I turn, there you are.”

“You love it,” he said.

“Mhmm, sure.”

He looked me up and down, licking over his lips as he did so. “You look ravishing tonight, angel. How about I take you back to my place later?”

I hummed. “As much I wouldn’t love that, I’ve got a date with my couch and Netflix.”

“Netflix and Chill, even better.”

“You’re nauseating.”

“You love it,” he purred.

“In your dreams,” I said, looking him up and down.

“Like what you see?” he asked.

I chuckled, taking a step closer to him and putting lips by his ear, whispering, “You wish.”

He groaned quietly, turning his head away from me. “Do that again and I’ll have to sneak off with you.”

“You think you can get what you want because of who you are?”

“Do you know who I am?” he asked.

I hummed, pretending to think. “Should I?”

He chuckled. “Everyone knows who I am.”

“And that’s why you’re a cocky asshole,” I said.

Bringing his hand up to my waist, he squeezed at the spot, causing a light gasp to come from me followed by a chuckle. “Ya’know, that would’ve been more sexy if you had grabbed me by my neck as I walked away.”

“Don’t tempt me, angel.”

“But it’s fun,” I cooed. “Don’t you think so?” I turned around and walked away, hearing him groan to himself.

Damn. This actually might be fun.

~~~

Forever / Everything Tag List: @stiles-o-dylan24 @stixnstripesworld @fandom-princess-forevermore @quanticobae @mischiefandi

#dylan o'brien x reader #dylan o'brien imagine #dylan o'brien x reader insert #dylan x reader #dylan o'brien reader insert #dylan reader insert #cocky dylan

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someguynamedstevewrites · 5 years ago

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“My Roommate is an Apparition” Christmas Special

Based on characters created by @reddpenn

—————————————————————

“It was a dark and cloudy evening on the twenty-ninth of November.

The end of a Black Friday the likes few would remember.

In an art supply store that can be found somewhere.

A person named Lily almost pulled out their hair.

With sale after sale, and all the price drops,

Poor Lily was tired. She wanted it to stop.

She dragged her feet one after another, with muscles so sore.

It felt like she walked a thousand miles to fall down at her door.

But now it was over, and at last she was free.

To veg out on her couch, and watch shows on TV.

But before she could indulge in being a couch potato,

There was still the matter of her roommate who...

...

Who...”

Lily tapped the pen against her chin as she tried to come up with a good word that rhymed with potato. Her head rested on a cushion against the arm rest of her couch as she slouched back; crossing one leg over the other. One of her spiral notebooks rested in her lap as she turned her head to look at her roommate.

The ghostly apparition stood motionless with a gaunt expression. Their eyes were wide with tiny pupils that somehow weren’t necessarily bloodshot, but at the same time, also bloodshot... but without the blood part. Their unkempt long hair fell down over their nearly non-existent shoulders and down their back, if you could call it that. Anyone who saw them standing next to them would likely jump out of their skin. If they could see them.

They were watching Spongebob Squarepants on Nickelodeon.

It was a rerun of the first episode, and the falsetto voice of Tiny Tim began to fill the apartment.

“Things that bother you Never bother me!

I feel happy and fine!

Living in the sunlight!

Loving in the moonlight!”

“Hav...ing... a... wonder... ful... time...”

Lily could tell the apparition was trying to sing along with its raspy voice. It sounded more like muttering under their breath, but it was clear what they were doing. It had to be difficult for it since they didn’t necessarily have lungs, vocal chords, or any other body parts usually involved with singing (as far as Lily knew). But despite that, it was still happy, bobbing their head slowly from side to side as they tried to keep up with the song.

Lily couldn’t help but think it was adorable; like a Pre-Schooler trying to sing along with their favorite cartoon.

It was the apparition’s scheduled cartoon time, and Lily had just come home after a very long morning, day, and night at work. As exhausting as working on Black Friday was, Lily was thankful to have a nice place to return to where she could unwind and relax. She was also thankful that the rent was surprisingly cheap too; what with the apartment being haunted and all.

She remembered the look on her landlord’s face when she signed the lease. It was a mixture of horror, surprise, and joy in response to finally finding someone willing to rent the apartment. Previous tenants would often report of strange things happening when they lived there. Their TV’s would turn on by themselves at random times. Sometimes the channels would change on their own, and whenever the tenant tried changing it back, they could hear an ethereal whisper demanding that they change the channel.

But Lily weren’t afraid of no ghosts, and took one of her first steps to independent living with dirt cheap rent.

A spooky chuckle came from her roommate as they watched Spongebob completely ruin Squidward’s day ...again. If not for the fact that Lily could see the pale, see-through entity that made that noise, she probably would have found the laughter rather creepy. But she didn’t, and in the spirit of the season, Lily mentally noted how she was thankful that she could see her specter of a roommate.

This train of thought led Lily back to one of the questions she had been asking herself for the past couple months: Why could she see the apparition when nobody else could?

Several possible answers ran through her head. Maybe she had secret powers that she wasn’t aware of? Maybe she was the “chosen” one, selected by the mysterious wraith to be the only person that could see them? Or maybe there was something about them that made them kindred spirits in a way? And if so, what tied them together?

Lily’s train of thought was derailed by the sudden commercial break on the TV, signaling that Spongebob had ended, and Lily knew what that meant. It was finally her turn to have the TV!

“Okay, show’s over. Now it’s my turn to watch something.”

Lily’s roommate gave a disappointed sigh as Lily snatched up the remote and changed the channel to CBS. It was prime time and time for some Hawaii Five-O. Sure it wasn’t the most mentally stimulating television program out there and one could argue it had the same level of intellect as Spongebob, but it was what Lily wanted to watch and watch it she would!

Or at least that would have been the case if not for a tiny spanner in the works. What greeted Lily after changing the channel was not Hawaii Five-O, but a familiar sight that Lily had not seen for a long, long time. Bongos could be heard as the word “Special” spun around colorfully on the screen before resting in place and showing “A CBS Special Presentation”.

A bright blue background with images of snowflakes falling appeared on the TV screen, accompanied by a calming, familiar, song.

“Fahoo forays, dahoo dorays

Welcome Christmas, bring your light

Fahoo forays, dahoo dorays

Welcome in the cold of night.”

“No kidding...” Lily said to herself in amazement. She hadn’t seen How The Grinch Stole Christmas in years. And it wasn’t the live action remake with Jim Carrey or the newer animated movie with Benedict Cumberbatch either. It was the genuine, original, Chuck Jones animated TV special with Boris Karloff narrating.

Lily remembered watching this on TV with her parents when she was little. It was one of the many Christmas specials that would air instead of the usual TV programming at night, and was just the thing for a 8-year old to enjoy before being tucked into bed for a 9 PM bedtime. Fond memories of the Christmas Tree in the living room, glowing with lights, and a stack of presents underneath it came flooding back to her in a wave of nostalgia.

It wasn’t Hawaii Five-O, but Lily wasn’t about to complain. In fact, she thought it was the perfect way to usher in the holiday season after the shopping turmoil of Black Friday. But as she kicked back to relax, she took a look at her roommate and couldn’t believe her eyes and ears.

“Every Who... down in Whoville... liked Christmas a lot.

But the Grinch... who lived just North of Whoville... did not!” said the apparition.

Its face was practically glowing with a warm smile that stretched almost from ear to non-existent ear on her face. Normally, Lily’s roommate was literally quite clear. Its transparent body made it easy to see right through them. But as it gazed at the Christmas Classic playing on the TV, Lily could have sworn that she saw a faint light beginning to emanate from her roommate.

The apparition’s pale, translucent skin looked like it was becoming opaque. A soft, warm glow radiated from its body as though it had just swallowed a night light. And all the while, the apparition spoke along with Boris Karloff’s narration word for word.

“The Grinch... hated Christmas!

The whole Christmas... season!

Now... please don't ask... why.

No one... quite knows the... reason,” the apparition quoted as it did its best to keep up with Boris Karloff’s pace.

“Wow! You’ve got the whole thing memorized, don’t yah?” Lily said with a smile.

The apparition turned around and smiled back at Lily, but this smile was different from before. Their smiles were usually filled with sharp, pointy teeth with an almost maniacal look to them. This smile, however, didn’t stretch across the whole of their face. Furthermore, while their teeth were still pointy, they looked somewhat smaller; almost human, even. It was a soft, warm, friendly smile.

It turned back around and continued to watch the TV classic, and as it did, Lily sat upright and scooted over to one side of the couch.

“Hey,” Lily called out, “care to join me?” She said while patting the seat next to her on the couch. Without taking its eyes off the television, the apparition walked backwards, somehow, onto the couch and then proceeded to sit next to Lily. “C’mere you,” Lily said as she took a throw blanket resting on the back of the couch and draped it around herself and her roommate.

Despite her roommate’s lack of substance, Lily felt warm and comfortable under the blanket. She could feel the faintest touch as the apparition’s head limped to the side and came to rest on her shoulder. It still quoted and sang along with the Christmas classic, but quietly so as not to disturb the viewing experience of their corporeal roommate.

It was peaceful, calm, and comforting. As they watched, Lily looked at her notebook that was now sitting on the floor. The movement of inviting her roommate to the couch had knocked it off. Looking at it, Lily figured out what to put down to finish her little post-Black Friday stress relief poem.

“... But before she could indulge in being a couch potato,

There was still the matter of her roommate who would not let go.

But as mysterious and weird as her roommate might be,

There was something about it that brought a warm smile to Lily.

And so the two sat on the couch in front of the TV,

Enjoying their time together as it was meant to be.”

Lily made a mental note to write that down once the show was over...

...but unfortunately forgot.

#reddpenn #my roommate is an apparition

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mrs-hollandstan · 5 years ago

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Make Me Love You || Frat Boy!Tom [twelve]

Warnings: Smut (18+), male & female receiving oral, Valentine’s Day sex ya know, I guess minor bdsm??, tying up, dom!Tom themes, blindfolding, toy use, alcohol & its use ;) , talk of sex with the roomies, teasing of Harrison & Cole if you blink, language, minor mentions of family issues, more fantasizing of family life

Word Count: 5,977

Author’s Note: Happy Valentine’s Day!! I hope you enjoy. Just let me say that the next few parts may or may not hurt, but I ask you to stay with me cause it is needed haha. Lemme know what you think though. :)

Series Masterlist || Add yourself to one of my taglists here

"Happy Valentine's Day to my absolute favorite women." Phoebe remarks, setting different colored sparkly heart shaped baskets in front of you, Ivey, and Scarlett at the kitchen table. Ivey gasps as you smile and Scarlett coos,

"Aww Phoebs these are so cute." Scarlett remarks. You nod, glancing up at her,

"They are, they're really adorable." You tell her. She smiles,

"Only the best for my loves." She remarks, leaning against your chair with a shrug. You smile, leaning into her. She sighs,

"Any idea what the boys got you girls?" She asks in general to the group. There's a collective shake of the head as you, Ivey, and Scarlett look between each other to see if anyone knows. You smile,

"Tom did demand I buy him new roses if anything ‘cause his died."

"You should try buying him carnations. Those last a lot longer." Ivey pipes up. You shrug, looking over the contents of Phoebe's basket,

"Any idea what we're all doing tonight?" Phoebe poses instead. Scarlett hums,

"Cole's making dinner and dessert and then we're gonna watch cheesy rom coms and make fun of them." She says with a smile. You giggle, looking to Ivey who shrugs,

"The only thing I know is Harrison and I are going to dinner." She remarks. The three of you nod before all eyes land on you. Your cheeks burn, eyes downcast,

"Uhm, I- Tom didn't really... give me much. He just told me to wear... something nice." You mutter,

"He'll probably just take you to dinner-"

"No not... not that kind of nice, uhm, he told me to wear a nice bra and panty set." You add. There's a silent a gasp,

"Ooh shit." Phoebe mumbles. Scarlett snorts,

"Look at you exploring that fuckin typical sex fiend Tom. How has it been?" She asks. You shrug,

"I don't really have much to base him off of. I was with like one guy before him and we were both in high school." You admit, picking at a string on your sweater. She hums,

"But... can he make you cum without touching you? Like, just sex, no clit rubbing?" You nod,

"Yeah, depends on what position he puts me in. He's really good in doggystyle."

"Must be nice. Sometimes Harrison just... forgets." Ivey speaks up. You smile, listening to Scarlett scoff and jokingly brush her hair over her shoulder,

"That's what you get for dating a boy Ivey. At least mine's a man." She boasts. You snort,

"Yeah, your man wore Spongebob boxers until he was nineteen." You tell her. The room breaks out into laughter, Scarlett leaning back in her chair,

"Hey, there's nothing wrong with liking Spongebob into your twenties. That's when you understand most of the jokes anyways." She defends. You giggle as she purses her lips, trying to contain her laughter,

"Besides, he is so fucking good. God that boy is so fucking sexy. His voice afterwards when he knows I still can't breathe-"

"Ew, ew, ew, that's alright, we don't have to. I'm related to that and I do not need to know." You tell her, shivering and moving your hands between you. She laughs, eyes casting up to Phoebe who holds her fingers out at a measurable distance. Scarlett reads her, holding her fingers up with a little added length,

"Balls too."

"Scarlett!" You squeal, your friends bursting out into laughter again. She holds her hands up,

"What?! How is that fair that you can talk your sex life but I can't talk mine?"

"Because yours happens to occur with my older brother and I do not need grimy details about an idiot I grew up with." You screech over the laughter. Once the laughing subsides, Scarlett sighs,

"He is good though." She mutters. You roll your eyes as a knock on the door sounds through the room. You silently thank the gods for whoever is on the other side, face brightening further when the three boys in question walk through the door. Tom rounds the corner in sweats and a tee, hat on backwards as he beelines straight for you, hands shoved in his pockets. You smile, laying your head back against his stomach as he leans in to kiss your cheek,

"Happy first Valentine's babe." He whispers to you. You smile, kissing his cheek back,

"Happy Valentine's Day love." You mutter. He glances up, watching his best friend and Cole retreat to their respective girlfriends. Phoebe drapes her arms around his shoulders,

"So I heard you requested that our sweet Y/N wear her best undies." She tells Tom who smiles, glancing down at you,

"Good thing I don't tell you my secrets darling." He jokes. You giggle and shrug,

"We're a family here. I tell them everything." You tell him. He hums, looking back up to Phoebe,

"Yeah, I got somethin good planned for her. Should be great." Is all he comes up with. Laying your head back against his arm, he nods at her. She nods in return as he purses his lips,

"But uhh, what are you doin?" He asks her. She shrugs,

"Probably sitting around here. Maybe I'll look for a hookup, who knows." She says with a shrug. You giggle as Tom smiles at her,

"Well shit, when you put it like that, there's room on my bed for the both of you." You gasp, reaching up to swat at his chest,

"Tom!" You screech. He chuckles,

"What? She's gonna spend Valentine's Day alone looking for a hookup. I could take you both on." He remarks. You pout as he stares down at you with a cheesy smile. He clicks his tongue,

"I'm kidding love. Damn I thought you'd put up more of a fight." He jokes. Phoebe smiles down at you,

"It's fine Y/N, wouldn't wanna steal your picture perfect moment." She remarks. Tom wraps his arms around you, lifting you and sitting in your spot. He pulls you into his lap, his arms wrapped tight around your waist. He sighs, leaning into your ear,

"Just for that though, you'll have to be punished." He jokes. You smile, leaning your back against his chest, hands placed over his arms.

---

Each of your steps are accentuated by the clicks of the heels you wear as Tom walks you up the stairs to the frat house,

"Ya know, I really, really want our own place so we can do whatever we want." He reminds you. You smile and nod, holding his hand tight,

"Well it's not like I'm quiet if there's people around. At your friend's house back in London I was pretty loud and Cole's friend definitely has neighbors and I wasn't exactly quiet." You remind. He gives a cocky smirk as he glances back at you,

“I like that about you. You don’t hide it like some girls try to.” He tells you. You hum, releasing his hand as he shoulders the front door open. It’s nearly empty, just a few of the boys standing spread through the house. Some greet you, others continue what they’re doing like you aren’t there. Tom leads you through the kitchen first, grabbing some alcohol before he leads you up the stairs and into his room. He sighs as he closes the door and you settle on the bed, laying back and kicking your heels off. You cross your hands over your stomach, watching as Tom walks forward to run the tip of his finger over the hill of one of your breasts,

“I like this dress. It shows off your goodies perfectly.” You smile,

“Thought you just cared what was underneath tonight.” He hums, not answering you at first as he pours some of the bourbon he’d brought into a glass and handing it to you. You sip from it, cringing softly. Tom smiles,

“Well I do, but ‘m just sayin, you’re pretty fuckin sexy in this little dress.” He remarks. You nod, allowing him to crawl over you. You hum as he brushes your hands up above your head, leaning in to kiss your throat,

“You know what though, I think it’ll look better on my floor.” He whispers, reaching up to slide the strap of your dress down your arm, repeating the process with the other as he slides it down your body. When your bra is exposed to him, he lets out another hum, continuing the trail down past your underwear which he blinks down at, dropping your dress on the floor beside him,

"Damn..."

"This set was just bought for this occasion." You tell him with a smile. He eyes the frilly red lace set,

"Its beautiful baby girl. You really know how to spoil me then huh?" He teases. You giggle and nod, eyes following his hand as he reaches for the bottle of bourbon, turning it upside down to drizzle some down the valley of your breasts, quickly leaning in to lap it up as it begins to run. You smile, watching him stand, kicking his shoes off and shimmying from his socks. He sheds his top and pants, watching as you sit up and lean in to kiss across his abdomen. He reaches up to run his fingers through your hair. He gives a sharp tug after a moment, bringing a choked whimper from your throat. He smiled down at you,

"I've got something for you. But you have to be a good girl for me to see it." He purrs. You smile up at him, body coursing in excitement at his tone. He wants to be domineering and you'll let him. You nod, chewing your bottom lip. He gives one curt nod, releasing your hair and walking to his closet. He pulls out a shoebox, placing it on the bed beside you and opening it. Your eyes widen at the contents: silk ties, handcuffs, a few varieties of dildos and vibrators, and nipple clamps,

"The craziest thing in this box is the clamps. But most of it's pretty mild. I just figured I mentioned toys and you didn't say no so maybe I could've bought some and then I had a little extra money. So I kinda went all out. We can try all of them in time but... I only got like three dildos cause I don't really want to use them on you when I've got a perfectly good dick in my pants but... figured maybe we'd see. But if you'd like, we could sample out a vibrator of your choice. And these are definitely being used." He rambles, dragging the ties out. You meet eyes and he gives you a cocky smirk. You cock your head and click your tongue,

"See that's not fair. I wore this for you to dominate me?" You pose, gesturing to the lingerie set you wear. Tom shrugs, looking you over, but he strokes the ties smooth as he does so,

"You did date night a few weeks ago. It's my turn to actually spoil you."

"But I wanna be on top. You always do the work." You pout, shoulders slouching. Tom presses his lips together, staring up at you without blinking for a moment,

"Fine. But I've got conditions. You're to let me tie you up to eat you out and when I'm done I'll let you do the same. But we need to establish a safe word. We aren't gonna be too crazy but," he grabs your hips and leans in to kiss your stomach, "I want us to be safe. If something doesn't feel right, we can use it and we'll stop." You nod, hands rested on his shoulders,

"What about... ooh, what about curtain call?" You pose. One of his eyebrows arches and you purse your lips,

"Ya know... at the end of a performance. Y-you were talking about stage directions the other day. I do listen." You murmur, seeming somewhat embarrassed. Tom chuckles,

"I know you do, I'm just... surprised. Yeah, curtain call is good." He tells you through a chuckle, squeezing your hips. You nod, letting him guide you back to lay on the bed, dragging you up to have you hold the posts of his headboard before he binds a silk tie around your wrists and the post. You watch, leaning up to kiss his stomach again, which moves as he laughs,

"Gonna be a good girl for me darling?" He purrs again, leaning in to kiss along your jaw. You nod,

"Yes sir."

"Now that's just wrong. You don't want me to dominate you, but you're gonna call me sir. Naughty girl." You giggle as he lifts your bottom half from the bed, pulling your panties down and swatting your butt in one sitting. You press your eyes closed for a moment, opening them as he spread your thighs to kneel between. He drags another piece of silk from the nightstand, showing it to you before leaning in to fasten it around your eyes. You gasp,

"Oh come on. That's not fair."

"You blindfolded me the other night. It's my turn. Besides... your orgasm'll be better if you're compromised." He mutters, kissing down your body. He disappears from the bed, his weight around you nonexistent anymore as he toys with your remaining senses. You gasp again, tugging at your restraints when something brushes over your stomach. Tom cackles,

"Those were my boxers by the way. And your body liked that." He purrs once more, leaning in to kiss around your belly button which draws a guttural whine from your throat,

"Tommy... please do something." You cry out. He chuckles again, humming to himself as he rounds the end of the bed, running his hands up your legs from ankle to thigh to spread them,

"What do we say pretty girl? Repeat it."

"Please." You pant, holding the wooden headboard post,

"Good girl." He gently mumbles. Closing your eyes tight, you give a shaky breath, feeling his breath across your hips before he leans in, instantly sucking your clit into his mouth. You cry out arching your back as his hands find purchase on your thighs, holding them apart while he works on you. He hums, your toes curling and you're on the verge of tears with how good it feels. Tom always makes it feel good. Sex is always the best, but the way he uses his mouth- which he hasn't since the night at the club because all of your sex has been too rushed for foreplay- is exceptional. You grasp the restraints, moaning and whimpering as you focus on the tingling and straight pleasure Tom provides, tracing his tongue around your clit and lapping at you in figure eights. You whine as he pulls up,

"Tommy... Tommy, please..." He chuckles,

"Tell me what you want baby girl." He demands. You arch your back,

"Please just don't stop. Want your tongue." You whine. He chuckles again,

"Good thing I hadn't intended on stopping then huh?" He poses, your senses dialed to eleven as he leans in, sucking your clit into his mouth and pumping his fingers inside of you once he slips them inside. Your nails claw at the bedpost, eyes squeezed shut tight beneath your blindfold,

"Fuck Tom." You gasp. He chuckles darkly,

"You like that pretty girl. So wet for me." He mutters, kissing your thigh. You can feel him shift, but think nothing of it as you focus on getting to your first high of the night. Your body craves it, wanting to feel that molten lava take over your body. You hum, gasping and shuddering as a strong vibrating sound rings through the air and cool metal is pressed to your clit. Your body lurches, tugging against the restraints at the new, overwhelming, foreign feeling and the milliseconds of uncertainty as to what it is nearly has you calling out your safe word.. He chuckles again,

"You like that darling?" You nod, panting as you seek out more pleasure from not only his fingers pumping in and out of you, but the bullet vibrator pressed firmly to your clit. You move your hips down into him, letting him slip his fingers out of you and replace it with his tongue. Your back arches again, head buried in the pillows,

"Fuck me Tommy. That feels so good." You moan, feeling your high build further and further,

"Can tell... you're soaked darling." He mutters back. You grasp the ties, toes curling and eyes squeezing shut,

"Fuck, fuck, fuck I'm gonna cum." You squeal. Tom hums, his tongue leaving you before he takes hold of your hips and flips you over onto your knees, twisting your wrists in the ties snugly, but not uncomfortably. He presses his fingers back inside of you, thrusting them quickly as he holds the overpowering vibrator firm to your clit. You whine, leaning down to bury your face in his sultry smelling pillow as he fights to bring you to climax,

"Come on love, cum for me." He directs into your ear. You let out a moan, back arching into his chest as he leans over you, stiff cock jabbing you in the side. Your body convulses after a few more seconds and you squeal, toes curled as you cum finally. You let out a whimper as he works your through it, turning the vibrator off as he draws his fingers out and licks them clean. You hold the post above you tight in your hands,

"Are you... are you gonna untie me?" You ask. He chuckles,

"Eager are we? I don't think I will just yet love. I like you like this." You whimper again as he lays you on your back, pulling the tie on your blindfold lose and tossing it aside,

"I will do that though. You look beautiful all flushed like this." He says with a smile. You return it, leaning your head up to kiss him, tasting yourself on his tongue as he slides it into your mouth. You hum,

"I do quite like the dominating stature you take. It's pretty sexy." He smiles, running his hands up the inside of your thighs,

"That's good. That's kinda... my style of stuff. I like dominating my girls." He admits. You crane your head to watch him sort through the things in front of him. His smile widens,

"You sure liked that vibrator." He remarks. You click your tongue,

"That's like telling me that starving me will result in me wanting to eat. No shit Sherlock." You chide. He chuckles,

"Didn't you though? I mean obviously your body involuntarily likes it but... it's good huh?" You nod, relaxing back against the bed,

"It was good. Intense. I've never used toys before." You admit. He returns your nod, reaching for a condom as he removes the lube in the box and walks to the closet to deposit it back. He hums as he returns, standing beside you with his hands on his hips,

"I'm not ready to untie you love." He remarks. You lick your lips, raising your head,

"Come closer then loser." You bite, watching him walk forward before you lean in to take his cock into your mouth. He hums. You smile around him, shifting until you're laying on your side, bobbing your head softly. You hum as he reaches up to untie you, pulling your legs off the bed and putting you on your knees,

"Hands behind your back darling." You do as you're told, letting him tie your hands behind your back, gathering your hair in his hand,

"You're beautiful baby girl." He purrs. You glance up at him through your lashes, his lips pressing in a tight line as he stares down at you. You hum, moving forward until you're gagging. Tom curses under his breath, holding you far too lightly. You pull back,

"Tommy..."

"What?" He asks, eyes softening at your whine. You pout,

"We established a safe word and we aren't even gonna get our worth out of it." His eyes twinkle as he stares down at you,

"I don't follow darling." He remarks with a lopsided smirk. You click your tongue,

"You wanna be dominating, you gotta gag me." His smile widens as he comes to the realization,

"You want my cock down your throat darling?" He poses softly. You smile and nod, winking up at him,

"You've got me all tied up, why not play with me?" You purr. He chuckles darkly,

"Oh darling, you don't know what you're getting yourself into." He mutters as you take him back into your mouth. He hums, watching you and running his fingers up the side of your face before he gives a solid tug on your neck and you gag. He hisses,

"Fuck darling. You're very good with that pretty little mouth." You hollow your cheeks as he speaks, giggling around him as his knees threaten to give out. He tugs on you harder, hand wrapping in your hair again before he presses, gagging you effectively over and over again. After another moment, he tugs you off of him, breathing hard,

"Alright... fuck... that's enough." He pants, bringing you to your feet and turning you around. Pressing a hand to your back, he bends you over the bed, swatting at your bottom. You squeal, giggling after as he picks at the knots at your back, untying the ties and letting you lay back on the bed, rolling onto your back. He stands between your knees,

"Wanna tie me up now?" He poses. You smile and nod, taking the tie from him and sitting up. He lays back on the bed, letting you move his hands until they're grasping the same post you were. He watches you clamber over him to tie the silk around his wrists, leaning up to kiss your tummy. He hums as you crawl back down, sitting just above his bobbing cock,

"You ever not used a condom with a girl?" You ask him, raising an eyebrow. He smiles, shrugging,

"Maybe one or two." He admits. You click your tongue,

"Such a whore you are Mr. Holland." He chuckles as you lean in to kiss across his chest, rolling your tongue around his nipples. He closes his eyes, grasping at his restraints as you creep down his body. Crouching between his legs, you find the condom and lube amongst the sheets. He sighs as he waits for you to add lube to the tip of the condom after you've opened it and slide it down over him,

"I actually can't wait for the day you let me not use a condom." He remarks. You smile,

"Shoulda said something before I put it on." He raises his head, staring up at you,

"Well fuck then, take it off, what’s one condom?" He practically squeals. You giggle, shaking your head at him,

"Too late." Climbing over him, he watches you turn the lube upside down and drip it over him, setting the bottle aside and settle above him. You reach down, guiding him with two fingers to your entrance before you slide down onto him. He hums, holding the ties in his hands,

"Fuck... that's good." He mutters, eyes closing again as you settle yourself above him, hands on his chest. He presses his lips in a line, raising his head to glance down where you're connected. He sighs,

"Fuck you're good." He adds. You smile, rubbing your hands across his chest before slowly raising your hips and dropping them down again. He hums, holding the restraints around his wrists in a bruising grip. You slowly bounce on top of him, trying to stretch yourself out as he licks his lips and curses under his breath. He watches you reach down once you start to pick up speed, stroking your clit in quick circles, your body quivering from the previous orgasm you'd had. Tom gives a somewhat feminine whine,

"Fuck darling." He tugs at the restraints around his wrist. You tut,

"Don't tell me I'm gonna have to blindfold you for being a bad boy." You tease. He stares up at you with wide, lust blown eyes, laying his head back against his pillow with his eyes never leaving you,

"You're mean." He mutters. You smile down at him, back arching softly as you rub yourself, bursts of pleasure bursting throughout you. You hum, coming down harder around him. After another moment of dull pleasure from Tom, you press a foot to his bed, leaning back on his thighs to bounce softly. He watches, eyes widening again,

"Baby, untie me." He desperately begs. You giggle, pausing as you stare down at him,

"You're such a pussy. I was tied up for like five minutes and you can't even last two." He groans,

"But this is different. I can give you more, come on, untie me." You shake your head, continuing to bounce atop him,

"No way. You stay tied up until I can make you cum." He rotates his wrist in a circle,

"Then c'mon. Hurry it along then darling, I can feel it." He rushes, laying his head back against the pillow below him with a small grunt as you pick up speed. His toes curl, eyes closing as his back arches,

"Fuck..." He groans, holding his ties, focusing on you instead of the bed creaking. He desperately wants to bring his knees up to give him some leverage to thrust up into you, but he can't. You're leaning back on his legs so he just has to enjoy the ride for now. One of your hands comes down between your own legs, rubbing your clit and releasing quiet but high pitched moans. Tom chews his lip, watching you as he chases his high, loving the way your body looks. He whines, tugging at his restraints and he wants nothing more than to reach up and play with your perfect, full, beautiful breasts. His eyes are locked on them, he's captivated by your sheer beauty as your head falls back,

"Fuck Tom... that feels so good." You moan, digging your nails into his thigh. He chuckles,

"Gonna cum before me?" You hum,

"You're hitting the right spot perfectly." You tell him, heart pounding from your chest. Your head falls back again, lips pressed in a tight line as you process the pleasure coursing through your veins. Its molten lava, burning your body. You bite your lip, Tom's eyes wandering up your body. He's nearly there,

"Fuck babe. God I'm so close." He growls. A thought strikes you, a wicked smirk which Tom doesn't catch crossing your face, his eyes closed. But they pop open and he gasps as he feels your hand that's drifted down between his legs to fondle his balls. You laugh wickedly as the headboard jolts and Tom tugs his restraints,

"Babe... ah fuck darling." He spits out, starting to squirm after a moment,

"Fuck, fuck, fuck." He curses, his hips involuntarily bucking up into yours as he struggles to contain himself. He lets out a loud groan as he cums, wrists red and burning as he tugs against his confines,

"Fuck." He grunts, giving one more thrust before he relaxes. You giggle, leaning over him and kissing him softly,

"Good baby?" He nods rather tiredly, glancing up as he feels you picking at the knots in his ties,

"No changing position." You demand. He nods, hands instantly rising to press over your breasts. You lean up just a little, finding the perfect spot to work back against. His hands slide down to your hips and then one slides down between them, pressing on your clit. You gasp, back arching as he circles the bud,

"That's it baby. Cum for me." He mutters, wrapping his free arm around your shoulders as you lay chest to chest against him, goosebumps erupting across your skin as the new angle allows him to press into that pleasure button. As you pick up speed, his fingers circle your clit faster, pushing you closer and closer to your high.

Each move of your hips draws a dull cry from your lips pressed to Tom's shoulder before he presses his feet to the bed, thrusting up into you. You squeal, biting into his shoulder which draws a growl from his own lips. He kisses your cheek, coaxing you along until you shudder, nuzzling your face in his chest and give a lighthearted scream as you cum for the second time. You pause, kissing his chest as his arms bind around you, legs sliding like butter down amongst the sheets as he struggles to breath below you. You hum as you rise slowly, brain clouded in a blissful haze, Tom's hands resting on your thighs as he waits for you to climb from him. You're panting as you do so, collapsing at his side, draping yourself over his arm. You pull the comforter up across your body, holding it in the crooks of your arms while Tom, just as out of breath, peels the condom from himself and tosses it into the bin beside his bed. He hums, placing his hand over your arm as he drapes the blanket across his waist, turning his head to look at you,

"Well shit." He pants out with a cheesy smile. You nod, letting out a small, breathless laugh, snuggling up into him. He runs his fingertips up your arm, tucking his other arm behind his head. You sigh, placing your hand over his chest,

"I think that was our best yet." You in part joke. He nods,

"I feel that." He mutters. Reaching up, he closed his eyes as you brush through his slightly sweat dampened hair. You lean in to kiss the corner of his mouth as his hand rests on your back, smiling and leaning in to kiss him farther after a moment. Your eyes drift to the top of his dresser where half dead roses lie,

“Wow, you weren’t kidding about your roses.” He glances up and chuckles,

“What, you think I’d lie to you about something so serious?” He jokes. You share a giggle as you lay your head against his shoulder, staring up at them for a moment longer. You raise your head again to look down into his face, heart fluttering,

"I love you. You're my everything." You tell him. He smiles, not opening his eyes for a moment. When he does open them, you watch the brown swirl, a golden speck dancing in them,

"I love you too. You're more than anything. I dunno where I'd be without you." He admits. Tracing his collarbone, he twirls a strand of your hair around his finger. Leaning back, you lay across his arm,

"Let's fantasize more. About our future. About us." You request. He hums, staring up at the ceiling as he thinks. You watch his lashes flutter,

"'Right, I want our house to be like... like warm but not like heater or natural heat warm. I want like... oven warm and I want it to smell like baked goods. And I'm," he looks at you then, eyes widening gently in worry, "I'm not like... saying I want you to sit at home and bake. I just want it to smell like baked goods just in general." You nod, staring up at him. He nods in return, glancing up at the ceiling. You hum,

"I always revert back to you with kids. I’ve always wanted to be a mom." He glances down at you again,

"You'd be a real good one, I know that much." He remarks. You smile up at him,

"Is it creepy that I always imagine you as the father of my kids? We've been together like... six months and I’ve already like… planned out their names and thought about what they’ll look like." You tell him. He chuckles and shrugs,

"I don't find it creepy, I think it's cute. You're like the only girl I've ever actually wanted to fantasize about it with." He admits. You hum, rubbing his chest,

"Fine, then I'll tell you what I think of. I think of you coming home from work and being bombarded with like... well I don't know how many but I see you being bombarded by our babies and then you sit at the table with the boys and help them with their homework as your daughter is questioning me about every little thing associated with dinner and helping me do that. She's too young to go to school of course so... she has to be distracted somehow." He nods with a smile,

"And then you teach them how to clean. Like how to do laundry and dishes and vacuum. But our baby girl will be scared of the vacuum for a few years and everytime you're trying to teach them you have to hold her." You add. He chuckles as your eyes sting in unshed tears,

“Very active imagination. That’s cute, I like it.” He remarks, unaware for a moment until he glances down. After another moment, he glances down,

"Hey. What's the matter?" He asks at the look of you, worriedly moving to brush your tears away. You shake your head and sniffle a little,

"Nothing I just... I just didn't get that growing up. I don't want what I had for our kids. This whole split family shit that I went through. I want more for them." You admit. He hums,

"And you'll get there. You're gonna be an amazing mum and hopefully I'm the dad to watch you be that. You're perfect and I couldn't ask for anything better. Our kids are going to be so fucking loved because the love I have for their mum is unreal." He rambles. You smile and nod, pressing your hand over his on your cheek,

"I know. I just... I feel like my parents said the same thing and then they fell out of love and shit. I just don't wanna go through any of that." You mutter. He nods, letting you lay your head over his shoulder,

"What do you dream about when it comes to kids?" You ask, trying to change the subject. He hums,

"Dunno. Uhm, how many kids are we talkin here?" He poses. You shrug,

"I guess if we're being serious, like... three or four." You tell him. He nods,

"I like the idea of being bombarded by little babies. I dunno if I could hold all of them though. But... I like the idea of you being pregnant and giving birth to babies that have your eyes." He jokes, leaning in to poke your nose. You smile,

"I like your eyes though." You murmur. He hums again,

"Well we'll see who our kids side with on that one." You click your tongue,

"Guess so. I like the idea of having little boys that look like me and little girls that look like you though." He purses his lips,

"Little mumma's boys and little daddy's girls. I could fuck with that." He mumbles. You smile, relaxing against him. He runs his fingers up along your spine, your brain going fuzzy as you close your eyes. You sigh, binding your arms around him. He returns the sigh,

"Why don't you get some sleep and dream some more fantasies up for me." You smile, snuggling down into his side,

"I love you." You tell him. He runs his fingers through your hair,

"Love you too darling. Get some rest." With his fingers in your hair and across your back, it isn't hard to fall asleep, your chest pressed to his. Tom glances down at you when he hears your breathing shallow, smiling down at you and pressing a kiss to your forehead,

"And happy first Valentine's my love." He whispers, kissing your temple before his own eyes close and like always with you around, he falls asleep faster than ever. Peacefully.

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ashyblondwaves · 4 years ago

Note

HEADCANNON EXTRAVAGANZA TO BRING YOU SOME JOY

Family stuff

Vision talks to the twins while they are still in Wanda’s belly to get to know them before they are born. They aren’t as active as Florence but they still know that their daddy is there and respond in some way to his voice.

Vision always talks to his children as though they are grownups and almost never does the baby voice thing because he wants to treat them with the utmost respect. He’ll still attack them with kisses and cuddles and he’ll do the voice he does in episode three of Wandavision when he kisses Wanda’s belly. However, he’s never like, ok teeny weeny babies let’s put on our sockies and shoesies (no shame if anybody does this, I do this sometimes lol).

Wanda is super sweet on her kiddos but is not one to be fooled. Sometimes Vision can be naive but the kids have never even tried to pull a fast one on Wanda. She is a really loving mom and would never be verbally or physically abusive/ condescending/ rude but her kids know from the beginning to respect her. They also know that she will cut a bitch for them. Looking at you school bullies/ PTA moms/ homophobes.

Every week, they have family nights where everybody cuddles in the couch/ in Wanda and Vision’s bed. Because the boys are little it’s something suitable for them. When Wanda is pregnant she cries at whatever is going on in the movie and Vision holds back his laughter and puts on a supportive face. He and the boys attack (gently) her with kisses and hugs. The boys hold her face in their hands and look her right in the eyes and say “it’s ok mommy it’s just a movie don’t be sad” and give her a kiss. And she’s like “thank you mommy feels so much better now” and snuggles into Vision who rubs her belly soothingly and kisses her forehead.

When they are at the store, Wanda pushes the cart (like you said for balance) while one of the babies rides in the cart and Vision carries the other one. Billy and Wanda are singing wheels on the bus (he’s getting better with the words over time and he giggles and claps his hands). He knows not to kick his feet because his baby sister is still cooking and he doesn’t wanna hurt her. Vision is carrying Tommy in a baby bjorn and dancing with him/holding onto his hands/ singing a song from spongebob.

When they are out in public, the boys try to reach for everything and Wanda has trouble keeping up with them sometimes because she’s kind of waddle-running, so it’s Vision’s job for the most part to corral the boys. Wanda trades their cooperation for fruit snacks. By the end of a shopping trip, he’s not sure if Wanda or the boys are more tired and he knows that everybody probably needs a nap when they get home.

During Wanda’s pregnancies Vision does everything he can to make sure Wanda’s comfortable. He’s also obsessed with her so he’s always there anyway. It helps her back if she leans back against him, so they take up that position in the bath/ shower/ watching movies or TV in bed. Sometimes they just stand and away with her leaning back against him. Other times she bends over and holds onto his shoulders so she can stretch.

Wanda has fallen while adjusting to her new center of gravity during her pregnancies and Vision was terrified to leave her side after that. He wants to be there to protect her and the babies. He is worried about her falling and hurting herself or getting stuck in the tub regardless of whether or not she can use her magic to help herself.

Vision ties Wanda’s shoes during her pregnancies and when he’s getting back up he kisses her belly and her lips on the way.

Angst

Wanda has passed out from exhaustion/ dehydration when her morning sickness was especially bad. Vision was really scared when he found her laying on the bathroom/bedroom floor. Everything was ok in the end but she had to spend a couple of days in the hospital getting fluids and making sure the babies were ok. It was the most agonizing time in Vision’s life. He stayed home from missions until Wanda was well again.

Sometimes Wanda and Vision still have really bad nightmares. They get especially bad for both of them when Wanda is pregnant because things are changing and they always feel a bit helpless because they can never be 100% sure that everything is fine in the world. They take a lot of midnight showers and baths and have comfort sex to calm down. A lot of time is spent with their foreheads pressed together to ground them.

Vision has gotten kidnapped on a mission before and it took a week to get him back. He was seriously (not gravely) injured but when he woke up in a hospital bed, Wanda was asleep in a chair next to him with one hand in his and the other on her belly. When he rolled over to get a better view of her face, pain shot through him and he winced, waking Wanda up. She burst into tears and made him promise to always come back to her.

Wanda has also been kidnapped on a mission. Vision asked Pepper to watch the boys (who are a year old at this point) for a couple of days while he and the other Avengers find her. When they break into the facility where she is being held, it looks like she might be gravely injured at first. Her vitals are weak but she’s alive. When he takes her into his arms she groans but curls into him. At the hospital, she wakes up to Vision holding her hands and staring off into space. He almost looks like a broken man and when their eyes meet she can see how scared he was. They cry and kiss and revel in being together.

One time on a mission, they aren’t speaking because they’d been having an argument when they got called to headquarters. They still squeeze each other’s hands on the ride over but they are completely silent. During the fight, one of them goes down and the other is worried the last thing they said to each other was something stupid during a fight. Everyone lives and there’s some crazy hot “I thought I lost you” sex in the shower later but it was really scary.

They are both risk takers and would sacrifice themself to save others. They fight about the other one putting themself in harms way.

Wanda and Vision get very worried when the other is out on missions. When Wanda is pregnant she’s extra worried and waits at headquarters for the Quinjet to land to make sure she can see Vision step off. One time he flew separately for some reason and he saw Wanda sobbing on the landing pad and thought something was wrong with the babies. The other Avenger’s hadn’t gotten the chance to explain when Vision pulled her into his arms.

One time Wanda had to be carried off of the Quinjet and Vision staggered over to her. She gave him a pained but sly smile and teased him through her pain. Everything was ok but she needed him to stop worrying so that she could stop worrying.

Wanda’s hormones make her seriously jealous. Vision is a hot piece of ass and she’s always worrying that someone is going to try and snatch her man away. Or worse, that Vision will find someone better. She gets mad at him because she thinks the pizza delivery guy was flirting with him. He calms her and feeds her pizza and all is well.

Her jealousy has led to full fledged arguments. She demands proof of his fidelity and he is seriously hurt by the accusation and leaves the house for a couple of hours to cool off and have some time alone. She’s terrified that this will be the thing that breaks them even though he means everything to her. When he gets back, she throws herself at him and they have a long discussion about how her jealousy can get out of hand sometimes. He also takes his time explaining how in love with her he is, how there could never be anybody else for him, and makes love to her nice and slow in the shower. And then the bed. And then the bed again.

Cutesy

Wanda and Vision sing to the kiddos during bath time. Vision makes sure to sing to big bird as well when she’s cooking in Wanda’s belly.

Vision says good morning and goodnight to Wanda’s belly during her pregnancies.

In his sleep, Vision still rubs Wanda’s belly and tries to calm the baby if she’s being particularly active.

Wanda is the most adorable thing in the world to Vision. Especially when she is grumpy in the morning with bed head and waddling to the kitchen.

I hope these make you smile :)

PS: can you tell my favorite place for them to have sex is the shower???

These are fabulous and had me smiling the whole way through. Thank you for sharing them. They sound like they're pros at making shower sex super hot and I am here for it!

"Vision is a hot piece of ass" put this on my urn, please.

Ahh I loved these so so much. Again, thank you! I really am so glad to have something fun to read during these long nights of work.

#follower headcanons

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kingneptunesthinninghead · 3 years ago

Text

In your opinion, which fast food place has the best fries? i love me some mcdonald’s fries.

Are there hurricanes where you live? they happen every once in a while

What do you hate the most about yourself? I'd really rather not get into this right about now. same

What song are you listening to right now? nothing but catch fire by 5sos is stuck in my head.

What was your first concert? brad paisley 🤠.

What’s your favorite Johnny Depp movie? willy wonka and the chocolate factory

Who did you last say “I love you” to? My sister. probably same

Do you like pumpkin pie? it’s about the only pie i DO like.

Do you know anyone named Austin? no one i like

Do you know anyone who is having a baby? my friend just gave birth to a baby about a week ago

What was the last thing you cried about? i cried in the car on the way home from work last night while listening to jet black heart lmaooo.

Do you prefer regular or chocolate milk? i dont drink milk.

Do you think you are an argumentative person? Definitely not. agreed, i’m conflict avoidant to a fault

How many deep dark secrets do you have? i dont think i have any

What was the spiciest thing you’ve ever eaten? the hot wings from bonchon were pretty f’n spicy

Who last called you sexy? i dont remember

Would you class yourself as a good role model? i think for the most part

Are you scared of the dark? sometimes i am

Do you have a motto? nah.

Who did you last see on webcam? my club committee from school

Do you need a haircut? i just got one about a month ago so not atm

How would you react if your mother told you that she was pregnant again? that would be impossible considering she’s in menopause and has her tubes tied

You log into Facebook and see the red ‘1’ notification next to the message icon. Who do you want it to be? no one i hate facebook

Would you rather exercise alone or with other people? most of the time alone but sometimes i’ll exercise with my sister or in a structured workout class

What is the most difficult or involved video game you’ve ever played? any bc i suck at video games

Ever watch the show Supernatural? nope

Ever heard of flavored honey? If so, what’s you’re favorite flavor? i’ve heard of it but never tried it

Do you remember what your favorite show was when you were little? i went thru hardcore icarly and victorious phases, also LOVED spongebob

Do you put anything besides cheese on grilled cheese sandwiches? sometimes i’ll do bacon on mine

When it comes to books, what do you think is the “perfect” amount of pages? the length of a book has never deterred me from reading it, ever.

Would you ever be interested in going scuba diving? maybe

Out of all of your friends/relatives, who would you say has the best vocabulary? not to toot my own horn but me

Are any of your fingers or toes deformed? What about the nails? no

When is the last time you cried? didnt i already answer this

Would you ever date somebody that has been divorced more than once? mm prob not

What are some stereotypically nerdy things that you like? i guess marvel and space would count

Have you ever attended a wedding that ended where the bride and groom didn’t actually get married? What happened? no but i’ve attended several weddings of people who have quickly divorced

What scares you the most about becoming a mother (hypothetically, if you don’t want to have children)? raising them to be a good well adjusted person.

Would you ever want a job in fashion? What would you enjoy about that type of job? prob not

Would you ever be a surrogate mother? nope

What do you think would be the best and worst parts about being a twin? i would love having that strong of a bond with someone and having someone to go thru life with but i would also feel like i never had anything that was truly mine esp in early childhood

Do you feel that your childhood was more rough compared to others around you? my childhood was great compared to a lot of peoples and i’m extremely thankful for that

How would you react if you found out today that you were actually adopted? i would feel betrayed that i’d lied to for 20 years

Have either of your parents ever cheated on one another before, that you know of? How would you react if you found out today that one of them cheated? not that i know of and again i would feel crushed and betrayed

Do you like cleaning and organizing? when i’m in the mood for it

How would you react if you found out you were infertile? If you don’t plan on having kids to begin with, what is a long-term goal you’d be crushed to find out was impossible to achieve? i would definitely be upset bc i want to have at least one biological kid but in the end i would find just as much joy from adopting a child and giving them a loving home.

Would you take your dream job if it were out of the country? it depends on what other factors are in my life at the time

Have you ever been robbed? no

Is anyone close to you an alcoholic? my friend at college and that’s not even a joke that’s genuine. i think he’s getting the help he needs tho which is good

Have you ever dumped anyone? no

What kind of tea do you drink? I hate tea. same it tastes like dish water

Do you know anyone in a gang? No, and I hope I never do. same

What’s the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for you? omg i still remember this bc i was blown away by how sweet it was. so in 9th grade i had one friend in my pe class and idek how we started talking but we just stuck by each other bc we didn’t have anyone else and we sat at our own table right by the teacher’s desk in health class and we actually became pretty close friends throughout the year well anyway i mentioned my birthday was coming up and she asked me what i wanted and i was like no you don’t have to and she was like do you want flowers and i was like sure why not and i didn’t think she was gonna actually do it but then on my birthday she shows up to health class with these beautiful purple flowers and i was so shocked that she actually got them for me so yeah i’ve never forgotten that ever. she moved away after that year and i never saw her again but i hope she’s doing well

What is your orientation? Gay? Straight? Metrosexual? straight but i have questioned before.

Have you ever done anything really dangerous or illegal with friends? nothing too wild

Name three feelings you’re feeling right now: bored, content, excited

And the reasons for these feelings? bored bc i’m at work, content bc i like the way my life is going rn, excited bc i get to go back to school and see all my college friends soon.

How do you feel about your life right now? pretty pleased at the moment

Is it easy for you to like yourself? Why or why not? no. it’s a conscious choice to like yourself that you have to make everyday and some days that choice is easier to make than others

What subjects come naturally to you? English, some aspects of science. agree with this, i’m very good at english and i understand some science

What subjects do not? MATH

Do you read more fiction or more non-fiction books? fiction but sometimes i like a good non fiction book.

How has today been for you? pretty good nothing too exciting

What did you do? watched tv and went to work

Are there any candles lit in the room you’re in? no

Are there any lava lamps near you? nope.

Do you like cats or dogs better? Cats. agree i have 4

Are any of your friends a pothead? yes, several

What’s a goal you’re trying to accomplish soon? start working out consistently again and get into therapy.

Are you a high maintenance person? nope

The last time you yelled as loud as you could, what was the reason? i was at a karaoke night

Have you ever been heartbroken? yep

Who did that to you? my ex crush

Did you go through an ugly stage as a kid? ohhhh yeah

The last type of sandwich you made or ate: a ham and cheese sandwich with pepperoni and mayo

The last time you spent most of the day in bed: when i was at school and i had stayed up until 6am the night before.

The last friend or acquaintance you made: my coworker

The last thing you took pictures of: a rainbow

The last time you were scared: when i thought a car was following me the other night

The last thing you looked up online: manic panic hair dye.

The last thing you disagreed with: i don’t remember.

Does your house have a separate laundry room? yep

Do your parents still help you financially? yes, a lot

Does your car have a backup camera? nope.

Have either of your parents ever been in trouble with the law? not to where they’ve been arrested

Have you ever had a pet that lived to be really old for its breed/species? my childhood cat lived to be 18 which was pretty impressive.

What was the last strong scent you smelled? my cat’s fart

Have you ever told someone to their face that they were ugly? no way

Is your bed against more than one of your walls? nope

Have you ever been attracted to someone’s parent? um yes some people i know have dilfs i’m sorry

Have you ever pole danced before? no

Have you ever broken into someone’s house? no.

Have you ever seen a live bat? yup at a beach house in the obx

What is the most amount of money you’ve spent on a meal before? i bought bonchon for my friends and i one time which was just about $100

Have you ever taken a woodshop class? no

How much time do you spend on Facebook, if you have one? as little time as possible.

Has a teacher ever made you hate yourself/your work? i had one math teacher in high school that consistently made me feel dumb bc i needed extra help to understand the concepts and couldn’t do mental math that fast so didnt like her

Have you ever been on the barrier or front row at a concert? closest i’ve been was second row

Are your parents supportive of you? yep

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sf-imaginess · 5 years ago

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could you write some headcanons for what TV shows the gang (+ Maple, Chug, and Travis if you want) like to watch?

(I know these are a little shorter, but I still love the request❣️❣️❣️)

(I also tried to only choose shows from the 90’s or early 2000’s since it lines up with the Sally Face timeline)

The Gang’s Favorite TV Shows:

Sal:

- Sal likes animated kids shows. Since he was a 90’s kid his favorite shows are from the 90’s! His favorites include: Hey Arnold!, Rugrats, Doug, and Ren and Stimpy.

- He’s also a big fan of Ghibli movies. His favorite is My Neighbor Totoro.

- When he’s with Larry, he sometimes watches romcom movies. (Random headcannon: the movie he was watching in episode 5 with Larry was The Notebook.) His favorites are the teen one’s from the 80’s, like 16 Candles.

Larry:

- When he isn’t stoned busy, Larry likes to watch TV. He’s not super picky on what to watch, but he really likes animated shows as well. His favorites are Spongebob, The Animaniacs, Recess, and Rocco’s Modern Life.

- When he was younger, he used to watch family sitcoms with his mom or when he was sick. Alf, Family Ties, and Mad About You were really popular. They also liked The Crosby Show until you know.

- Whenever there was nothing else to do, Larry would watch the “childhood sick day staples”, which include: Jerry Springer, Judge Judy, and Doctor Phil.

Ashley:

- Ash’s guilty pleasure and dirtiest secret is the fact that she loves LOVES The Bachlor. The only person who knows is Neil and they watch it together.

- Besides that, Ash likes to watch sitcoms. She’s always loved Sienfield since she used to watch it with Ben. She also really likes Everybody Loves Raymond and What I Like About You (What I Like About You was my EARLY CHILDHOOD LETS GOOO).

- She really likes the Simpsons also. Not to mention Family Guy is a favorite as well. She also LOVES Bob Ross’s show and when she has free time, she’ll turn it on and paint to it.

Todd:

- Todd isn’t really the biggest fan of TV shows. He’d much rather be researching ghosts or dinking around on his computer. So when he usually watches TV, it’s just the news.

- He really likes nerdy series though. Stuff like Star Trek and The Twilight Zone are right up his ally. He also enjoys Friends and The Big Bang Theory though.

- A secret he will never EVER share. Like literally, not even Niel knows. One time at Larry’s he was forced to watch The Fast and The Furious and he actually ENJOYED it? Like wtf? He’ll never tell though...

Travis:

- Travis really didn’t get to watch TV as a kid. Making sure his son has screen time is the last of Travis’s dad’s concerns. So when Travis got to watch TV, it was usually something cult related or the news.

- Once when he was at Sal’s, Larry forced him to sit down and watch Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Travis pretended to hate it but he secretly LOVED IT.

- And so started a closeted obsession with Buffy the Vampire Slayer. When he got older and moved into his own place, he began to have Buffy Binge Marathons.

Chug:

- Chug likes cooking shows, duh! Good Eats, Two Fat Ladies, and Ace of Cakes are his favorites.

- After having Soda, Chug has grown a liking to kids shows and Disney Movies. He can now sing every song in every Disney movie ever and also knows the names of all the girls from Winx Club.

- He also really likes superhero series, especially if they’re animated. He practically forces Maple to watch Teen Titans, Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, X-Men Evolution, and the animated Batman series.

Maple:

- Maple likes more “mature/drama shows”. Her favorite are ER, Grey’s Anatomy, and Castle (MY CHILDHOOOOOOD GOD I FOOKIN LOVE CASTLE). She has also taken a liking to Supernatural.

- Maple is a HUGE horror movie fan. Chug hates it. He’ll hide in Soda’s room when Maple turns on her movies. Her go to’s are Sleepaway Camp, Friday the 13th, A Nightmare on Elm Street, and Rosemary’s Baby,

- She also really likes Fashion Runway, Switching Spaces, and Super Nanny.

Neil:

- Neil is a SUCKER for soap operas. General Hospital? Yes. The Young and The Restless? YEs. One Life to Live? YES!

- He also likes reality tv. He’ll call up Ash and force her to come over to watch any Real Housewives series or The Real World over a bowl of popcorn.

- Neil has such a soft heart for romcoms. He cries every time he has to watch them. He bawled like a little bitch when the watch The Notebook and Todd almost banned romcoms after The Lake House.

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dorcasavelinehill · 5 years ago

Text

YOUR ARMS FEEL LIKE HOME - Ch. 1: Where I’ve Never Been

https://archiveofourown.org/works/21747418/chapters/51883063

The children had made a wrong turn somewhere. Shadows fell away, lost in the brightness of a search light. The beam glided back and forth, and the children were center stage, on a dock without cover, with no darkness to hide in. Behind them, water. No buildings to climb, no walls to scurry over. The four boys thought, we need to swim for it, but then thought, no, the girl can’t keep up. She isn’t as fast in the water. She needs land under her feet to make a clean getaway.

Between them and freedom, six - no, seven men. Large, all towering high, and armed. Four of the men had knives, two had handguns. One seemed unarmed, but they remembered their fathers words. Never trust appearances. The men slowed as they approached the kids, uncertainty making them hesitate. One stepped forward. The leader? “What the hell are you supposed to be?” The men lowered their arms. They understood now, these were kids. Weird looking kids, but kids. Defiant, the children refused to answer. There was a moment of silence as they exchanged looks. One raised a brow. Another cocked his head, smiling. The girl wrinkled her nose. The third boy nodded. The fourth inclined his head. “It ain’t Halloween.” The big guy in front tucked his gun in the back of his pants. Dumb move. Underestimated them. “What kind of costumes -” “Sorry.” The oldest child, the eldest boy, spoke up. Soft voice, small smile. “We’re not wearing costumes.” He charged. The other four followed him. Well trained. The men regretted thinking this was a joke. Swords slashing, coming down hard on the remaining firearm, before the man holding it could get his finger on the trigger. The rest was easy. One blocked a knife swing. Another ducked a punch. They returned the blows, weapons sheathed, even the swords now that the gun was out of play. They took damage. You couldn’t go unarmed to a knife fight and not take cuts. The girl with them dodged and bounced like a jumping jack. She lacked the natural armor of the other four, so had to be creative to stay out of the knives’ range. The big guys were aiming at her, thinking her the easiest target. Her brothers took exception to these thugs targeting their sister. A knife thrust hard, should have been able to kill the victim, a straight shot to the liver. Instead, the blade crumpled. The guy holding it shrieked a swear and dropped the now useless weapon. Fist to his face. He fell. Block. Dodge. Punch. These were kids? They hit harder than most men! And the girl might as well be a flea on a dog’s hide, fast and furious. She couldn’t land as hard a blow as her brothers, but she only had to let them wear themselves down chasing her. Her brothers took the men down for her. One man went down like a tree in a forest. Now the girl pounced. Instead of fists, she wound zip-cord around the man's arms and torso. It was a thin, lightweight, plastic-and-metal wire. The thug fell on his face; she planted her foot on the back of his neck, caught his arm in a loop of the zip-cord. Had him hogtied in seconds. The boys brought the men down, disarmed them, tripped them, laid them out prone. They found the zip-cord impossible to unwind, impossible to break. It didn’t bite into the skin like a regular metal cord would. They couldn't snap it. Only the clever little device on the girl’s belt could nick off a length of wire. Seven men, tied and helpless, hollering, cursing. Asking what the fuck, what the hell? A slap of duct tape across the lips. Not a perfect gag, but it would keep them quite long enough for the kids to get back to the shadows. The youngest boy laughed, wiped blood and sweat from his brow with the back of his hand. “Welp, that was fun!” “Yeah, let’s not do that again,” middle-kid said dryly. “Bye, guys!” the girl sang. Red hair, sticky and wet with sweat. They ran. The men struggled to sit up, to get free, trying to see which way the children went. The kids fled the light. Found the shadows. Became the shadows. It wasn’t a technique. The girl’s night-time camouflage outfit didn't simply blend in the dark. One moment the kids were there, three-dimensional objects in space. The next moment? They might as well have melted like snow in July. All that remained was an echo of laughter. The thrum of feet on the pier. The whip of wind flowing around them. The big guy with the gun in the back of his pants stared at the empty space where they’d been a moment before. He wondered if he hadn’t just seen his first ghosts.

*****

April loved summer nights. The biggest problem with New York City was that all the stars in the night sky weren’t visible. There was far too much light pollution from the skyscrapers, and the compact city growing ever upward. April found the lack of starlight disappointing, but the illuminated skyline almost made up for it. Instead of focusing on the vanished Milky Way, she trained her camera on Billionaire’s Row. The buildings had a sort of stark beauty she liked, though if asked, she would admit the older, less minimalistic buildings were her favorite. “Yer gonna lose it if y’aint careful.” Raph stood beside her on the edge of the XYZ building, watching her adjust the camera’s focus. He had a bad cut from where one of the gang members had caught him with the tip of a knife blade, but aside from that, he’d done a good job coming out unscathed. The camera flashed. She advanced the film and quickly took two more pictures. “I haven’t dropped it yet,” she said without looking at him. Raph watched April lean precariously out on the edge and grabbed her belt, arm extending as he let her swing out as far as she could go. She needed to get the perfect angle for this picture. One more shot, and she let Raphael haul her back onto the roof properly. The other three sat in the center of the roof, looking each other over for injuries. Michelangelo had the first aid kit he wore on the back of his belt out, rubbing something April guessed was antiseptic over a bad wound on Leonardo’s shoulder, then pressed a pad of gauze to it before taping it down. He completed the wound care by taping a Scooby-Doo band-aid on top of the dressing. Leonardo looked at Mike’s handiwork with a wide grin of amusement. Donatello had several nasty slashes on the inside of his elbow. Mike cleaned up Don’s wounds, and graced him with a Spongebob bandage, which Donnie flaunted. April flopped down dramatically. “It’s horrible! I’m exhausted! I’m completely worn out, and I must be near death!” She sprawled beside Mike like a dying woman begging for a drop of water. Mike held up a band-aid. “I’m out of Barbie.” He turned the bandage to show her Scooby-Doo. “Aw, come on!” “I’ve got Scooby for you. But if you don’t want that...” Mike dug through his first aid kit, tossing aside boxes with Batman, Captain Ryan, and Flintstones band-aids. “Take your pick!” He beamed at April, who graced him with a sour frown. “Do you at least have Disney Princesses?” Mike looked down at the boxes surrounding him. “Uh, no.” April threw her arms up dramatically. “I’m crushed! Crushed!” Leo mock-frowned. “What’s wrong with Scooby? I got Scooby.” He turned his shoulder to her, pointing to the Scooby-Doo band-aid slapped across the thick layers of gauze and tape. April rolled her eyes at Leo and flung the back of her hand over her eyes, trying to look like a tragic figure from a Renaissance painting, though she only managed to look like a gangly kid who hadn’t grown into her feet yet. “I’m a damsel. A princess. A goddess! I deserve Barbie on my band-aid.” Mike started tucking the scattered boxes back in the first aid kit. “Well, since you didn’t actually get hurt, and you only want Barbie -” April thrust a pristine arm out at him. “Gimme Scooby.” He found a random spot on her arm where she could show it off nicely and stuck the bandaid on her. Raphael rolled his eyes and started cleaning up his own cheek, preferring to tend to his own wounds, rather than have Mike do it. “I swear ta God yer both five.” “Seven,” April corrected. “I don’t believe in Santa Claus.” At fourteen, she had the awkward grace of a well-trained ballerina with too much leg and not enough hip or bust. Her brothers were more well-proportioned, though one could tell by looking at them that they were going to get a lot taller, and sooner rather than later. Well, if one could look at them without screaming in panic. Or attacking. Not too many people had ever seen them, but on the handful of occasions they were noticed, attacking and screaming were the default actions of whoever looked at them. They were giant turtles, after all. Leonardo was tall, about 5’9”, and getting taller. April was slightly displeased with this situation because it meant he would be able to pick her up and dangle her upside down soon, which he had threatened to do the last time she’d stolen the last pudding pop from him, and the bossy bastard might just do it, too. On his person, he carried his swords strapped to his back, extra zip-cord in his belt, and rolls of film April begged him to hold for her when she couldn’t fit them in her own belt pouch. She considered him the perfect accessory - a purse that didn’t get cluttered because he’d refuse to carry too much for her. At eighteen, he was the oldest son, and he made sure everyone knew it, especially when their dad wasn’t around. Bossy bastard. April loved him anyway. With his cheek cleaned up, Raphael dropped to a crouch beside April, holding out his uninjured arm. “I want Pokemon,” he said. Mike stuck his tongue out, but found a Pikachu bandage and slapped it on Raph’s forearm. Raph was sixteen but stood two inches taller than Leo. He was a little self-conscious of his big feet that their father kept assuring him he would grow into. He wasn’t always the easiest person to get along with, naturally rebelling every time Leo pretended to be an adult. Sometimes he lost his temper, but April found ignoring him until he got out of his funk the best way to deal with his drama. Most of the time, Raph was fun to be around, and he usually just indulged her in whatever she wanted to do. Raph carried a pair of sai tucked in his belt. Michaelangelo, at fifteen, was the baby of the boys, and at 5’6” was still quite a bit taller than April. He had the biggest blue eyes and the sweetest smile, and could always coax the others into some kind of fun or mischief. It was actually Mike’s fault they’d gotten lost and had run into those bums. Their father had shooed them out of the house with express orders not to come home before midnight, but not after 2:00 AM. They still had time to kill, and Mike had come up with a great idea for keeping busy, but the boy couldn’t find his own way out of a paper bag if he had a compass and a map. He always hauled around the first-aid kit, along with a pair of nunchaku and a bag he carried to hold whatever cool things he happened to find on their nights out. Last count, he had two sea shells, a dirty magazine, and a police-style whistle, but April didn’t know if he’d added to his collection since they left home. Before she could poke her nose in Mike’s stuff, Donatello scooted beside her and wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her onto his lap. “Did you get the pictures you wanted?” “Yep!” She squirmed in his grip, getting loose and popping the film out of the camera. She thrust the roll at him for him to take. Donnie took it, freeing up her hands to reload the camera. “I wanna get some more though, before we head back.” Don tucked the film away in his belt for her. “Digital cameras don’t need film,” he teased. April planned on Donnie spending his Saturday morning developing the film for her. She was still learning how to do it on her own, but until she was more sure of herself, she wanted Don’s skillful hands at work on her pictures. “Film looks better,” she said, not looking up. She wound the camera ahead until it was ready to start a new series of photos. Leo was absently wrapping his toes up in Superman band-aids. “Digital’s cheaper,” he said. April rolled her eyes. “Mister Adult.” Don was seventeen, second-oldest, but he never talked down to April the way Leo did sometimes. He might pick on her love of “old-fashioned” things, but Don had a way of taking her seriously that Leo lacked. He was a studious young man, with a dry wit and a sarcastic sense of humor. He was terribly subtle, sometimes so much so that by the time he’d insulted you twice, you were only just figuring it out. Altogether, April adored her brothers, and they treated her like their own little princess. Mike smacked Leo’s hand and took back the still-wrapped band-aids before their fearless leader could waste the rest of them. “Hey.” He looked around, squinting in the darkness to make out the skyline. “I think I know where we’re at now.” “Uh-oh,” Don breathed, and Raph snorted, “Right.” “No, really, I do! Look, if we head two blocks west, four blocks south, the store’s right there.” Mike pointed as if there were a building just beyond his fingertip. “We can be there in five minutes tops. Tops!” “Isn’t that what he said an hour ago?” Don asked Leo lightly. “You mean, right before we got jumped? Yes, I seem to recall -” “I’m serious this time!” Mike hopped to his feet. “Come on, it’s like, ten-to-midnight, and he probably isn’t expecting us until about one! We got time. Unless you want to go home early and go right to bed.” Raphael snorted. “Oh, hell no. C’mon, it’s better than bein’ stuck inside.” Don rolled his eyes, but stood up with the other boys, throwing his vote with Mike. Leo blew a sigh out his nose and shook his head lightly. “We’re going to get in serious trouble.” “We’re not!” Mike protested. “Swear to God, no alarm system. We could walk right in and nobody would know.” Leo poked April in the side where she lay serpentine on the roof. “Come on. I can see I’m not going to win this one.” April mock-swooned and covered her eyes with the back of her hand. “I’m too heavy to walk. Carry me!” Raph said, “Bye,” and took off across the rooftops. Leo shrugged and followed. Mike had the bad grace to wave at her before giving chase. “Hey!” She jumped to her feet, stomping one foot. “Some superheroes they are! They just left me here!” “Yep.” Donnie patted her shoulder and proceeded to leave April behind as well. Cheeky bastards, all of them, she thought and raced to catch up.

#tmnt fanfiction #tmnt leonardo #tmnt donatello #tmnt april #tmnt michelangelo #tmnt raphael #tmnt splinter #tmnt #tmnt 2003 #tmnt fanfic

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someone-online · 6 years ago

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16 and 17 for the ask thing since I need new music to listen to xd

16) What’s the saddest song you’ve ever heard?

idk about the saddest song, but i can give you a list of really sad songs i know!

(all of these are only musical songs bc im too lazy to think about the other nonmusical songs i know)

Your Daddy’s Son (Ragtime the Musical)Til We Reach That Day (Ragtime the Musical)Coalhouse’s Soliloquy (Ragtime the Musical)Words Fail (Dear Evan Hansen)So Big/So Small (Dear Evan Hansen)Loser Geek Whatever (Be More Chill)Michael In the Bathroom (Be More Chill)Stay Alive - Reprise (Hamilton)It’s Quiet Uptown (Hamilton)She Used to Be Mine (Waitress)I’m Not That Girl, along with its reprise (Wicked)No Good Deed (Wicked)For Good (Wicked)Ti Moune (Once On This Island)When We Are Wed (Once On This Island)A Part of Us (Once On This Island)Santa Fe (Newsies)Letter From the Refuge (Newsies) (it’s not on the cast recording tho)Tomorrow Is (SpongeBob Squarepants musical)(I Guess I) Miss You (SpongeBob Squarepants musical)I Am Here (Come From Away)Something’s Missing (Come From Away)Inútil (In the Heights)Alabanza (In the Heights)Epilogue (21 Chump Street)Dangerous to Dream (Frozen musical)Monster (Frozen musical)Legally Blonde (Legally Blonde)What’s Wrong With Me (Mean Girls)Doubt Comes In (Hadestown)Road to Hell II (Hadestown)Far From the Home I Love (Fiddler On the Roof)Lifeboat (Heathers)Kindergarten Boyfriend (Heathers)Pathetic (Matilda)When I Grow UP (Matilda)Somewhere That’s Green (Little Shop of Horrors)Good Kid (Lightning Thief Musical)My Grand Plan (Lightning Thief Musical)The Tree On the Hill (Lightning Thief Musical)Alyssa Greene (The Prom)

17) How about the sweetest song?

another list:

Wheels of a Dream (Ragtime the Musical)Gliding (Ragtime the Musical)Our Children (Ragtime the Musical)Sarah Brown Eyes (Ragtime the Musical) (but only if you ignore the context of the song)If I Could Tell Her (Dear Evan Hansen) (i just think its a really cute song)Finale (Dear Evan Hansen)I Love Play Rehearsal (Be More Chill)A Guy That I’d Kinda Be Into (Be More Chill)Voices In My Head (Be More Chill)The Story Of Tonight (Hamilton)Helpless (Hamilton)That Would Be Enough (Hamilton)What’s Inside (Waitress)It Only Takes a Taste (Waitress)Never Ever Getting Rid of Me (Waitress)Everything Changes (Waitress)For Good (Wicked) (its both sad and sweet tbh)Sal Tlay Ka Siti (Book of Mormon)One Small Girl (Once On This Island)Love Is Always Lovely In the End (The Drowsy Chaperone)I Do, I Do In the Sky (The Drowsy Chaperone)I Never Planned On You/Don’t Come A-Knockin’ (Newsies)Something To Believe In (Newsies)Finale (Newsies)BFF (SpongeBob Squarepants musical)Finale (Come From Away)Pacencia y Fe (In the Heights)When You’re Home (In the Heights)Sunrise (In the Heights)Everything I Know (In the Heights)What the Heck I Gotta Do (21 Chump Street)A Little Bit Of You (Frozen musical)Chip On My Shoulder (Legally Blonde)I See Stars (Mean Girls)Wait For Me (Hadestown)If I Were a Rich Man (Fiddler On the Roof)Miracle of Miracles (Fiddler On the Roof)Do You Love Me? (Fiddler On the Roof)Maybe (Annie)Tomorrow (Annie)Fight For Me (Heathers)Seventeen, also its reprise (Heathers)This Little Girl (Matilda)My House (Matilda)Suddenly Seymour (Little Shop of Horrors)Strong (Lightning Thief Musical)Sixteen Going On Seventeen (Sound of Music)My Favorite Things (Sound of Music)Dance With You (The Prom)Unruly Heart (The Prom)

#asks #thetallassdevil #not gonna tag these musicals lol

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vertigocomics · 3 years ago

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The Amazing Spider-Man is on Netflix and this is my digital diary so you all have to suffer through my thoughts. Also tumblr isn’t letting me put a read more today. Sorry.

Uncle Ben is important and should be there

There is a difference between knowing what role he plays in Peters origins and understanding how that loss impacted and continues to influence Peter Parker

Over the top bullying scenes are ridiculous

It’s been a few years since I was in high school but to my knowledge no one ever stood around cheering for anything other than people dancing

My school was full of show offs and people who thought they had something to show

I wanted to know if you knew your name is still funny to me

He uses bing

his eyes are very pretty

Splice of Life

Poor Rodrigo although maybe he doesn’t have to deal with comic nonsense now

I love Andrew Garfield

He also left the freezer open

Very destructive

Uncle Ben is a menace

They committed to the theme of responsibility, in his personal life as well as his hero persona

The scene with Flash against the lockers ties into it too

Peter has a lot of anger and he’s a bit of an asshole and he has to learn how to deal with that so he is able to do good

the fire escape

I would also be confused by that fish

Cops bring up the doughnut thing more than anybody else

I love that rooftop scene

Superhero movies really need to focus on the civillians

Peter giving that kid his mask is so important to me

This bridge scene is absolutely a turning point for Peter because his focus isn’t punishing the guilty its saving people and thats why he is now able to call himself Spider-Man

Something the MCU missed the mark on

I do like that while Gwens dad doesn’t believe him he still looks into Dr Conners

did he forget his name was on his camera?

Chocolate house!

I do love when Peters mentors become his villains but I can’t put words to why

That restroom was very clean (before it was destroyed) and its reminding me of when we had to go to events at other schools and me and this girl in my program would check to see what their restrooms were like and if they were nicer than ours we envied all those kids

Those kids were well versed in evacuation protocols

Some one didn’t do their Spongebob lab safety

Mother Hubbard amuses me as much as it did in middle school

I do love how involved Gwen is and that they take the time to show us that she is smart instead of just telling us shes is and that shes the head intern they give us the moment where she locks down the lab to show us that she is a quick thinker and she knows what shes doing

The people of New York helping Spider-Man is always wonderful

The scene between Peter and Gwens dad is my favorite because it understands that the point of the mask is not to protect Peter

The eggs!

I love that Peter doesn’t tell her about the promise. He was willing to take the blame instead of tainting her memory of him. But she knew who her father was and she figured it out herself. And I don’t think it taints her memory of him because she knew exactly who he was and she loved exactly who he was.

Uncle Bens voicemail

I really love this movie

#tasm #my movie thoughts #long post

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askpolylosersclub · 7 years ago

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ugh. y’all. i have so much love in my heart for u losers. i love u and ur soft content and agh!!!! i’m just curious as to what’s yalls like favorite quirks about each other? like about me n my gf she says “yowza” “kin” “mood” a lot and i think it’s so funny.

I guess I’ll just jump in and answer this because let’s face it, all of these guys are perfect and I feel like I need to talk about it more.

Ben:

He licks his finger sometimes when he turns the page of a book or a newspaper and he concentrates really hard and it’s adorable.

Whenever you sit next to him on the couch or anywhere, no matter what he’s doing, he’ll always stop and lean over to kiss you on the head. Always. I’ve never seen him not do it to anyone.

Has a smoothie maker and he’s in love with it. He gets really excited to try out new recipes, even though the rest of us (except Stan) think that they taste gross.

Bev:

Every single morning when Bev gets up and comes downstairs, she’ll kiss everyone in the room, one at a time. This is usually following her saying something like ‘morning, cuties’.

She buys a lot of fashion magazines and she has a color for each of us, and turns down the corners of the pages with stuff she thinks we’ll like or look good in, and she colors it in so we know who it’s for.

She does this thing when she laughs or when she’s happy where she crinkles her nose like a little bunny (Hence the reason Mike calls her ‘Bunny’) and it’s the cutest thing ever.

Eddie:

Swears a lot when he’s mad (and in general) but when he’s on his own or he thinks nobody’s listening, he uses words like ‘cripes’ and ‘gadzooks’ instead of curse words. It’s the cutest thing to hear.

Eddie owns a lot of pairs of white sneakers, and he cleans them all after every time he wears them to keep them white and lines them up in his closet like they’re his most prized possessions.

Does that thing that kids do where they’re trying to keep their eyes open but they keep falling asleep and you’re worried they’re just gonna drop right into their cereal.

Mike:

Always sings and dances while he’s cooking. He has a beautiful voice and sometimes it’s nice to just sit and listen.

Talks to his truck like it’s a person, even when there are other people there. He always gives it a little pat on the side when he gets in or out of it, too.

Has a collection of novelty socks. Yeah. This is 100% true. And he’s proud of them. You see him smiling and he’s like ‘I got on my Spongebob’s today’ and he shows them to you.

Stan:

Sometimes uses the word ‘oy’ unironically. He also talks to himself in Hebrew when he thinks nobody is listening. None of us ever know what he’s saying.

I don’t know if anybody else knows about this, but he takes his pet birds out of their cage so he can take photos of them and he keeps the photos in an album. He sometimes draws pictures of them, too, and they’re pretty good.

He is constantly moisturizing his hands, but it’s nice because he always has really soft hands that smell good. I’m pretty sure that it’s expensive stuff because he won’t let anyone else use it.

Rich:

When Richie is uncomfortable or nervous he adjusts his glasses on his face a lot. I think it’s almost like a tic.

Does running commentaries of everything in a fake commentator voice but they’re always really positive. Like…he’ll sit on the counter while Mike is cooking and comment on how well he’s slicing the carrots, or he’ll sit on Stan’s bed while he’s getting dressed for work and tell him how good he looks.

Whenever Richie is practicing guitar he ties his hair back out of his face with one of the ties he keeps on his wrist so it doesn’t get in the way.

- Bill

#askthelosersclub #bill denbrough #ben hanscom #beverly marsh #eddie kaspbrak #mike hanlon #stanley uris #richie tozier

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insomniac-arrest · 7 years ago

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Counting her Smiles

genre: original work, wlw ballet romance

words: around 5k

summary: Rebbecca Johnson grows up with the shadow of the driven ballerina Celeste, she doesn’t understand her but she does understand they are drawing closer

under the shadow of bleeding en pointe feet and Minnesota winters, it’s a love story

En Pointe

I don’t know why I was chosen to be the sugar plum fairy instead of Celeste Renoir.

My brother said it was because I was the tallest girl in the class, I said it was because I could almost do a pirouette properly (probably).

He said it was still just because I didn’t need a step stool to do the pas de deux with Roy Calvin. I called him stupid since he was ten and I was twelve and you can call your younger brother stupid at those very close ages.

He retorted that it was dumb of them since they would have to spend half their makeup budget buying concealer for my freckles.

I threw q-tips at him until the floor was littered with a fluffy massacre and we accidentally bothered the cat into leaving, no one did anything to properly stop us.

I asked about being the sugar plum fairy the next day, if it was true, Ms. Smith reinforced that yes, I had been chosen. Celeste didn’t say hi to me that morning.

Celeste Renoir had a very French name and a very French family that came over when she was around nine. I didn’t exactly know what that meant, sure, I understood that other places existed and people lived their lives on television in cities far away from me, but I hadn’t met them. I hadn’t been there.

I had never met anyone outside of the outskirts of St. Cloud Minnesota and most my friends were just cousins of mine by different names. She was French even though Carly Thompson pointed out her mom was Chinese, Tina’s mom snapped at her to not point out things like that.

Paisley, who was named after the plant and her great aunt, said she should be the sugar plum fairy since she was almost already thirteen, French, and had already tried en pointe.

Secretly I agreed with her, but they had already bought the concealer and I was still the tallest girl in the class and could almost do a pirouette, I wasn’t backing out now.

Celeste still didn’t say hi to me and I didn’t say that I felt sick thinking about doing the pique turn in front of two dozen faces who were going to clap at me no matter what. Pity claps were still annoying.

I got ready to begin the performance the week before winter break, half the city was snowed in by that point, but that didn’t dissuade anyone from showing up. They arrived on a snowy Thursday night for a severely watered-down version of the Nutcracker for Ms. Smith’s ‘11-13 year old ballet class.’

I found myself gasping weakly behind the curtains, my legs were already cramping and I didn’t know why I kept thinking about the lights accidentally blinding me.

I think about the spins and going through the motions of the pas de deux I would do with Roy Calvin, even if he was also almost 5’6 and had only a slight gap in his teeth. I didn’t really want to do this.

The 7-11-year olds were almost done with their Lion King ballet performance when I felt a soft tap on my shoulder.

I turn my face slightly and come face to face with the pouting features of Celeste Renoir, she wasn’t smiling. They say she only smiles for performances, but that might have been one of those things my mom calls a ‘mean stage rumor.’

Celeste met my eyes sharply and lifts her chin, “breath.” I nod because there wasn’t really anything else to do, she does a little motion for me to turn around, I turn. “You’re bow is almost undone.” She sounded a little stiff, only faintly ‘foreign’ but still had the air of someone who wasn’t from St. Cloud and maybe had never really been there all along.

She undoes the bow holding my dress up and carefully re-ties it with swift handiwork.

“Thanks,” I stutter as she clenches the knot and pulls down the end of my skirt.

She turns me back around, “no big deal.” She sniffs, “deepen your plie this time.” “Right.” I nod and like her a little bit less but she is sweeping her dark bangs out of her eyes and examines me.

Celeste snaps in front of my face, “and look at me when you get nervous during your solo.” I look back at her and then the corner of the room, I give a weak smile, “so I can see someone doing it right?” I tried to joke, “honestly, Celeste…” She gives a faint smile back, “precisely,” she turns me around to face the stage as the announced the 11-13-year olds. “That and I won’t bullshit you with how you’re doing either.” I inhaled sharply, she just said bullshit in public, I look around frantically for an adult. But she was almost thirteen after all and no one was there.

I smile, a real smile, over my shoulder at her, “does that help?” She pushes me forward, “Sure.” She sniffs, “If you’re bad.”

I turn my face ahead again and roll my eyes at her, “a charmer I see.” I say in the way my dad says to cars that cut him off in traffic.

She snorts and I walk onto the stage to take my position. I look into the spotlight and try to be everything they want me to: tall and like I wasn’t weighed down by a half a drug-stores worth of foundation.

I smile like my underwear wasn’t riding up and only end up looking at Celeste three times when I stumble. She’s smiling at me this time, a steady look in her brown eyes and I know she isn’t bullshitting me, even with that smile. I was good enough for her to grin at me afterward too, so that was something.

———-

I ran into Celeste the next winter.

I was still in ballet but 8th grade was a little more important and I only went through the motions of every plie at that point. To be fair, I took ballet in the first place because my mom had two rules: play an instrument and a do a sport until you’re eighteen. No exceptions.

All five of my siblings had to, it would apparently make us ‘well-rounded’ and ‘developed.’ I played the flute and did ballet because I didn’t like sports that involved running or instruments that were too heavy.

My little brother, Ian, who was only around a year younger than me, said that that was boring and I was going to be just as boring as everyone else. I still got to call him stupid at that point.

I was in intermediate classes but Celeste was rising to the next level entirely, she was welcomed into en pointe with open arms and I watched her at extra-hours doing one spin after the next. She didn’t look like a classic ballerina then, but somewhere toward that. Sweat formed on her forehead and a loose sweatshirt hung over her thick tights. To be fair, she mostly looked like an angry fourteen-year-old.

But weren’t we all, that’s the year I started to clip my nails down to the beds and grind my teeth at night. I was fourteen and trying to be anything else but a pimply caricature of myself, but so was everyone else.

We were young and raw and Minnesota decided to be very Minnesota in the spring that year.

It was spring, spring in the way mob bosses are your ‘friend’ and they were still going to threaten you after you pay your dues.

It hit like a heavyweight wrestler, a pile drive of snow right into the center of town and all the surrounding areas, foot upon foot of person-crushing white.

I watched the snow fall for two days straight, perched beside my window and feeling a little too romantic for someone still in SpongeBob pajama pants and unsuccessfully attempting to feel what someone like Emily Dickens might have felt. I was cutting my nails down to the bed and terribly trying to feel what dead people felt when they looked at the exact same things I did.

My mom always said people are a lot more like you than you think, the same air, the same problems, the same toothache when they ate ice cream too fast. I really wanted to feel what Emily Dickens felt, I’m sure she had answers and something smart to say about the world.

I just sat by my window and tunelessly hummed the rhythm of my next flute recital piece instead of actually practicing.

I went to sleep on a Tuesday night and the whole world was nothing but snow and peeling yourself out of bed with two comforters on in the morning.

I was yawning and rubbing my eyes when I did the time old ritual of huddling in front of the tv to watch the news with my other siblings. The feeling of when a news anchor lady announces your school is canceled is like nothing else in the world. Of course, it was not that day, that morning I found out it was just postponed. I wished I lived in Florida for a moment, I heard a snowflake there meant you didn’t have to go to class for a week.

I complained for at least ten minutes before my mom asked ‘would Jesus complain like this?’ She was smiling when she said it, Jesus was her personal friend as far as I understood, but it was more of a running joke than a serious ‘be a little more holy, Rebecca.’ It was more ‘be a little more quiet dear.’

My mom was like that, she said some things so she wouldn’t have to say other ones in different words.

I didn’t completely understand her, it’s funny, to have an entire mother you’ve known your whole life and still wonder what she was actually thinking. Whether she said MASH was her favorite show because she liked it or because everyone else liked it, whether she liked all that egg salad we ate or actually thought Ian would ever be a minister.

Things like that, but I didn’t understand a lot at that point.

I did shut up for her then, I went to put on my long underwear and boots that lived through Minnesota winters, boots that had been to war my youngest sister joked.

I was trying to finish my earth science homework when my father came barging into the kitchen that morning, ‘choochoo!’ He cries and I sit upright in my chair.

“No!” I cry happily and my father’s eyes were already sparkling.

“You bet your bottom dollar kit-kat.” My father nicknamed all his kids after his favorite candy-bars.

“No, no, it’s my turn!” Ian was almost asleep in his cereal, but bolted upright at the first ‘choo.’

I was already on my feet, “Molly went last time and I already have my coat on!” I did, at that very least, have my coat on.

“This is boy sexism!” My brother called because he was learning words like that on reddit (my parents were trying to limit his access). “Phoebe, Molly, and now you! It’s a boys turn.”

My father shrugged, “next time then tootsie roll.” My father gave a little salute, “she already has her jacket on.”

He groans and I stick my tongue out at him.

My father regularly borrowed a snowplow from our neighbors who didn’t have kids and were old enough to save up for a working snow plow and not be able to use it.

My father was the type of man who enjoyed digging people out of snow banks when storms came a knocking. One of my uncles called it a ‘complex’ but my mom retorted that being snowed in just sometimes makes everyone nicer at some point.

She gave him The Look that said ‘you’re from Florida’ and he didn’t respond out loud.

I ran out the door and take the two snowbanks in stride to jump in the passenger’s seat, I was still shivering in the unheated air but I babbled about getting my learner’s permit soon. I would drive the snowplow one year.

My father chuckled and said I should learn to control a headache first before a vehicle, I got a lot of headaches from the grinding.

I sniffed at him and let him drive.

We passed most of our neighbors who were already digging themselves out, inch by inch, layer by layer, maybe snow really did make you slower and nicer, there was nothing left but to do it. You couldn’t have the fire to be mean.

Or maybe it was a complex.

My father started veering into snow piles to clear the streets and work his way up to the more rural parts near us, we already lived on the outer edges of St. Cloud, so it was pretty far out.

I didn’t suspect I was going to see Celeste that day but I did hear that she lived somewhere romantic, somewhere remote and gothic, that’s what Paisley said.

I was a little taken back when I saw a slate gray box house on top of hill and surrounded by white. I wondered what Emily Dickens would feel about it.

Probably something meaningful, I just felt a little dumbstruck as I saw Celeste Renoir struggling through the slushy white waves. She had a shovel in her hand but she wasn’t using it right, more like wielding it than digging with it.

I rolled down my window and started to wave, “Celeste, Celeste, hey!” My father glanced at me but I was looking at her.

Her eyes flicked up and I grinned, “need a hand?” I ask, she opened her mouth but I was already gesturing my father onward, “the cavalry is here!”

I hoot but Celeste was still stony-faced, maybe she didn’t get the point of winter yet.

My father puts the plow in high gear and I gesture for Celeste to get out of the way.

“Is that one of your little friends?” My father asks and I just shrug.

“Something like that.” I hang my head out the window, “you’ll recognize her soon.” Or at least, he should, Celeste had starred in every ballet since mine.

I blink and watch her struggle backward with her usual cast-iron look that said the snow had arrived to personally offend her. I leap out of the car as soon as we get close enough.

“And here you are,” I cry, “and not even in your ballet shoes,” I see with a huge grin, “bestill my beating heart.”

She gives me another unamused look and tries to trudge closer to me, “Don’t tell anyone.” She says dryly, “it’ll ruin my reputation.”

I chuckle, “I won’t tell anyone even Celeste Renoir gets stuck in the snow too.”

She makes a face at me, “if that’s what I’m known for I think I should move.”

I tilt my head and reach out to take the shovel from her as she creeps closer, “known for what?”

“Not getting stuck in the snow,” she sniffs, “there are better reputations than that.”

I try to grasp the handle, “oh darling,” maybe I said that too sweetly, “you’re known for that time Neddy Johnson wet himself in front of you.”

She snorts and makes a little wicked grin, “you’re next.”

I laugh, “you wish.” I take the shovel from her, “now let me show you how it’s done.” I start digging her out and back toward her house, inch by inch, layer by layer.

“My hero.” She says flatly and I didn’t know why she was like this.

She follows dimly in my footsteps as I plow our way back to her front steps where my dad was already chatting with Mr. Renoir warmly.

“…my wife keeps coming home with these pamphlets about how ballet can mess up your feet, do you guys worry about that too? The misses seems a little out of sorts about it.”

Mr. Renoir just hums, “we let Celeste do what she wants, if she says it’s safe, we let her.”

“Oh my five definitely do what they want too!” My father gives a full-bellied laugh and I felt like I was intruding on them.

Mr. Renoir adjusted his gloves, “ballet is good for them I think.”

My father makes an uncommitted motion, “maybe. We still won’t let Kit-Kat do en pointe- not yet at least.”

“That’s a shame,” Celeste speaks up now and I glance at her, she was giving them a steady look like she was a glamorous 42 year old in a fur coat on in the middle of New York City instead of 14 and standing here.

My father turns to blink at her with the same freckly smile, “Celeste! We were just talking about you girls.” He winks at me.

Celeste was holding someone’s imaginary gaze, “Rebecca could be very good if she advanced to en pointe.”

I raise my eyebrow, “uh, maybe?”

She glances at me and looks me up and down, “you’re tall.” She states and I droop a little.

“So people remind me.”

“And narrow. With good hips.” I don’t look her in the eye when she says that, “you should consider joining me for the night practices.”

I scratch my nose half-heartedly, “I’ll think about it.”

Mr. Renoir looked between the two of us, “I hear school is still starting at eleven love.”

Celeste tosses her hand back like she was sweeping her chin-length hair out of her face, “don’t remind me.”

I laugh a little, “I know the feeling.”

“Why don’t I give you I ride to school little lady Renoir?” My father answers genially and both Renoir’s look at him steadily.

Mr. Renoir nods, “that is very nice of you Mr. Johnson.”

He just puts his hands out, “I’m happy to help.” He shakes the snow off his pants, “Kit-kat’s friends are always welcome.”

Celeste raised a fine eyebrow up at me and I wish at least my father wasn’t calling me a candy bar at that specific moment.

Celeste goes back in to get her school bag and I kick a couple ice clumps out of the way as my father makes small talk with the French businessman. Her dad ran a small Home Goods store and Celeste’s mom taught at the university.

I open the door for Celeste the second she comes out, she gives me the same almost-smile as the night of the Nutcracker dance. The one where I stumbled and caught her eye like she wasn’t going to lie to me.

It was a strange feeling when you knew someone in the way you don’t know them.

I hopped into the bucket seat and let Celeste have the window.

My father tunes us out like he wasn’t there and let me talk to her freely.

Celeste talks in statements, “I can’t believe we have school today.” She said with a piercing gaze, “the world could end and the Minnesota school system would still make me leave my house.” She cursed and my father turned the radio up.

I laughed, I loved when she cursed, “that’s a pretty accurate picture. But you sound like staying in your house would keep you alive when the apocalypse zombies come.”

She rolls her eyes and folds her arms across her chest, “obviously I would boil water and wait for the zombies to all freeze up here.”

“What about ice zombies?” I joke, “A costco would work better.” That was something I read online.

“A what?” She was looking at me like she wasn’t a 42 year old in a fur coat in New York City.

I give a little laugh and tell her about the Costco Zombie Theory and we discuss silly plans and bad plots in The Walking Dead, it’s not the worst moment I’ve had with the Mean Girl Ballet Queen.

In fact, I think I got another smile this time.

———

Celeste Renoir started to sarcastically call me her hero after I came for her in the snow drift that winter and I sarcastically turned a fine shade of red back. I wasn’t very good at sarcasm.

I was fifteen and we were starting high school like we wanted to spring to stardom or wall street or the white house, kids had a lot of dreams right then.

Eventually that year, I just wanted to sleep and stop biting my nails to the nub.

Emily Dickens might have thought something beautiful about this too, but I wasn’t very good at beauty, Tina said that’s why I would never get a date to Homecoming Dance.

That was true. My brother had stopped going on reddit and said it was just because they were cowards who couldn’t hit 6’1 yet.

I didn’t really care, I told myself I should care, I also told myself I shouldn’t.

I started to do after-hours practices with Celeste, not because I was crazy about it and not because I was very good, but because it was there and I might as well. Ian called me boring again for that.

Celeste was working in the same way clockwork does: it just keeps ticking, not how ballerina’s in shows did, but with sweat down her back and abs forming under her leotards. She was lithe muscle and perhaps something in her that ticked harder than any clock.

I watched with my mouth dry and I taking too many water breaks. I started to feel guilty.

She spins in circles and I try to keep up with her on Ms. Smith’s word, she says I’m a natural, but I just feel clumsy and like I want to stop wearing eye makeup.

Celeste started teaching me just as much as Ms. Smith did, she told me to squeeze my core and straighten my spine, she took my leg and positioned it in the perfect pique passe. She puts her hands on my belly and back and has me do breathing exercises.

She holds my arms up, she curves my foot more precisely and lifts my inner thigh higher and higher until I feel like I could kick the sky. But was starting to feel really guilty.

It was the middle of the week on an almost-summer day and on the brink of becoming sophomores.

Celeste and I were sitting on the benches and Ms. Smith had gone onto her other classes that day, we regularly practiced alone by that point.

I looked at Celeste, I watch her peel her ballet shoes off her curved feet and massage the inner sole, I give a deep sigh, “does Ms. Smith know you’re bleeding?” I ask softly as I see the deep red wet across her toes.

Celeste’s eyes flash up, “I’m sure she knows enough.”

I look dimly forward, “you should take some time off. Or maybe…she’ll do something.”

Celeste gave a grave smile, “I’m sure she’s been pretending to ignore it for awhile now.”

I glare, “what, do you hate yourself or something? Your bruises look like they have bruises.”

She swished her dark hair back and I think of a Teen Vogue magazine, “everyone hates themselves a little bit ‘becca.”

I roll my eyes dramatically, “That’s stupid. Do your parents know you’re this much of a teenager?” My mom always said teenagers were like that, but maybe Ian would say it was the French in her. He wanted to study international relations instead of be a minister now, I wanted to eat more pudding in bed.

She exhales softly, “I do it because I can.”

I fold at the knee and meet her on the floor, “here.” I reach out to take the long ace bandage from her cracked-knuckle hands, “I’m sure I can get it tighter than you.”

She arches her eyebrows, “my hero.”

She always said it like she was cracking-wise but I take the bandage from her hand and delicately brush against her callused and bloody feet.

“No one wins by breaking their big toe Celeste,” I finally say and she gives me another bored stare.

“They don’t win by barely trying either.” She brushes her hand across my cheek, like a caress.

“Until what?” I skim my knuckles across the deep calluses on the meat of her foot.

“Until I get there,” she grabs my cheek again, but I don’t look up from her bleeding toes, “my parents had nothing, they went to the same university on scholarships and night shifts. I’m not going to come crashing done after they climbed all the way up. That’s not what you do.” She spits the words, “You make something of yourself.”

There was something lovely about the way she forms those words, but I don’t know how to tell her I saw something lovely in her. Not at a time like this. I say nothing at all and she lets my face go.

“Not that you know,” she tilts her head and I am finally looking up, “your family has been here for ages, unmoving I suppose.”

My eyes are wide, her eyes are smokey, I felt the guilt. “Be careful.” I finally say, “I just want you to be careful.”

She sticks out her bleeding foot and I finish bandaging the right one, she finally leans down, “careful of what,” she frowns, “you?”

I blow air out of my nose, “It is a pity that doing one’s best does not always answer.” I clear my throat, “Said by Jane Eyre.”

“Jane Eyre.” She lifts her left foot for me to touch her.

“Yes,” I wrap my hand around her ankle and smile weakly, “I’m not such a country bumpkin as you might assume, Jane Eyre might have a thing or so to say about this.”

Celeste snickers, “maybe I should be careful of you first and foremost.”

I shake my head and keep wrapping, “I’m thinking of joining basketball.” I watch her face.

Her eyes go wide ever so slightly, “why?”

“The same reason I joined ballet,” I say flatly and she chuckles.

“Because you’re silly and tall?”

I run my hand down the spine of her foot, “precisely.”

She gives an extravagant sigh, “I suppose it can’t be helped if that’s how you feel.”

I tuck the end of the bandage in, “I’ll still come to all the performances. Heck, I’ll even come here after school.” As long as she didn’t touch my chest and run her hands down my back again.

She gave me an even look, “you don’t have to.”

I stood up and dust myself off, “oh, but I will.”

She shook her head and leaned back on one of the mirrors, “I guess you don’t have better things to do. But I don’t expect heroism after this.”

I sit down next to her again, “no promises.”

She smiles anyway.

———-

It turns out I was much better at basketball than I was ballet, I didn’t like the running part but I had a promise with my mom and I had to do something.

I was seventeen and this was my last year having to do anything, I quit the flute by sheer force of will but let senior year rile me into a basketball frenzy.

We could win some sort of Minnesota championships if I just kept watching the ball swish down into the bottomlessness pit of the net. That’s what it felt like, that I could just keep falling down with it.

They said I was a natural.

The year felt like a blur, I was taking the SAT one moment, and then applying to colleges the next and then I was facing the death knell of childhood.

I was still seventeen and people were asking why I hadn’t been asked to one dance thus far. Some of the boys had finally passed my 6’3 after all.

I didn’t know what to tell them and I kept shooting baskets instead.

The champions would be held in St Cloud that year, the school buzzed about it and people gave me high fives when I passed their classrooms. I didn’t really understand it, but the finals were when I saw Celeste properly again that year.

Celeste was applying for dance schools that year and distracted by her own bleeding feet and multiple requests from people to go to prom with them. We had grown closer.

We texted every night, I sent her silly pictures of dogs and quotes from Virginia Woolf. She sent me Kitchen Nightmare gifs and ghost stories she found online. She liked ghost stories but not in the way that scared her, but the way it seemed to scare other people.

That sounded dumb too but Celeste was more flare than she was sincerity, I could appreciate her silly selfies she sent me from her dance studio at 11 at night though. She always did smile widely at the end of any practice, like she had figured something out no one else had.

I sent her basketballs with faces drawn on them in lieu of selfies back.

I was playing in the championships and I texted Celeste every night, it was my senior year. However, I was not prepared for her to show up at my last game itself- especially not prepared for her to show up in the wrong cheerleading outfit and yell weird phrases at me whenever I got the ball.

“Becca is the green tea!” She yelled, “stronger than you!”

I laughed and had to wipe my palm down before I took the shot.

“Becca is the gal for you and me, her arms are concrete!” They were silly and I almost suspected she was drunk by the end of the night.

I was breathing heavily by the fourth quarter and I could barely keep myself from taking a water break every five minutes, but maybe that was something else.

I pass the ball to Diana at the last moment, I don’t mind when she makes the winning shot and the game is over in minutes, in seconds. The bell buzzes and that’s an adrenaline rush onto itself.

The moment is sweeter than ripe oranges and I can hear yelling and hands ruffling my hair and hugging me on all sides. We cheer until some of my teammates’ lungs give out.

I only take a break from yelling wordlessly when I saw a small figure in the bleachers who was flashing down a smug grin.

I shake my head and untangle myself from my teammates embrace to go jog over to the steps, she walks slowly over to me too.

I prop my chin up and can’t stop smiling, “you came!”

She looks up at me with ease, “well, you’ve come to all of mine.”

I snicker and look her up and down, “what’s with the outfit? Those aren’t even the right colors.” I comment on the strange cheerleader outfit with orange trims and just a pompom picture on the front.

She puts her hands on her hips, “at least it wasn’t the other team’s colors. I honestly bought the first thing on the rack.”

I run a hand through my hair, “it’s the thought that counts.” I go to hug her and she goes to push me away.

“You’re sweaty!”

I circle my arms around her without actually touching, “isn’t that what you’re here for?”

She sighs into my collarbone and accepts her fate, a give her a proper hug, “losing to you as the Sugar Plum Fairy is the tragedy of my life you know.”

I chuckle back, “We can’t all be winners of course.”

She takes my cheeks in her hand and I pause as she looks me in the eye, “true.” She lifts herself up on her tiptoes and kisses me on the cheek. “Congratulations.”

My mouth falls open and I stand there a little dumbstruck, “what was that for?”

“For winning, duh, and,” she looks over my shoulder at some of our classmates, “they should know.”

I tilt my head to the side and she grabs my wrist, I nod blankly, “okay.”

“Do you want to come over to my house later?”

I can’t say no to that and nod again.

Celeste Renoir lived at the top of a spooky hill that Edgar Allen Poe might approve of if I could actually feel the feelings of dead people.

I was still working on that.

Celeste led me up to her house in her little orange skirt that looked still too cold for the Minnesota spring. I look at the back of her head and feel a little younger, I study her sleek black hair and smile to myself, she had kissed me on the cheek.

Celeste led me up to her room and I sit down on her window seat with the slim light of a distant moon behind me.

I squint at her through the dark but don’t ask to turn the light on.

She settles herself across from me in an old wooden chair and I swear she’s smiling again, “this is the point I would offer you a drink or a cigarette, but we’re both athletes so I guess we’ll pass.”

I snort, “drinking? Smoking?” I shake my head, “What would my mom say.”

She kicks me gently, “I lost the Sugar Plum Fairy part to a square.”

I laugh, “would you have it any other way?”

She twirls her hair, “ideally I would have won it and you would swoon at me.”

I lean back to lie against the window, “you think 12 year old me was capable of swooning? I was barely capable of using a camcorder unsupervised.”

She crept forward slowly from her chair and took the cushion seat next to me, “well, that’s no fair then.”

I leaned my forehead on the window now, “swooning is for other people Princess.” I say evenly, she had recently been the Swan Princess in a production. “I’m more of the hero type, ya know?”

She lets out a large sigh, “I’ve heard.” Her eyes go soft and doughy, I fidget, had she seen through me? Was she going to call me out?

“It is awfully boring at the studio without you though,” she smooths her own skirt out.

“No fun without watching someone watching you become a star?” I joke and want to push her hair back behind her ear. “Don’t worry,” I finally say, “I’ll still be watching.”

She wets her lips and I can’t read the expression on her face. “I see…”

“I’ll even wrap your feet for you,” I say softly, too softly. “When you do that silly thing where you try and dance yourself into a movie explosion.”

She looks up to ceiling with a deep sigh, “you are ridiculous.”

I give a half smile and look down at my lap, “I have to do something to be less boring.”

Celeste looks surprised at me for the first time it felt like, her pretty eyes going wide, “boring?”

“Boring.” I confirm, still trying to joke.

“You somehow think you’re boring?”

I look the other direction and don’t know what to say to that, I put the nubs of my fingers down. I had stopped biting them every single hour, but daily was still pretty bad.

“Don’t worry about it,” I say lamely, “people like you always have…things. I’m sure you have enough passion for a whole city.” I shrug, “I just don’t.”

She leans forward and practically forces my chin up, “you really think you’re boring?”

I shrug, “what else could it be? Besides tall and covered in freckles.”

She gives a sly smile, “but you see, I’ve always been interested in those freckles.” I make a face at her, something mis-computed in my brain as if I tried to process it on a 1998 Dell. “You could even say I was the one at least swooning a little.”

I raise my eyebrows and try to wipe the sweat off my palms, my face is flushed and downturned, “you don’t have to…you know.”

She takes my hand gently and her eyes are wide, a little frightened, she hovers closer to me like an unsure star caught in orbit.

“I-I,” She was gaping and struggling with something like English words or an unclear pasta recipe. “I’m not.” She finally says and her face is inches from mine but tired. I hold her gaze a little like I’m looking for something, I concede.

We’re both very tired.

“Alright darling.” I reached for the back her head and draw her into a heady flashing kiss.

As slow as galaxies merging and an eleven year old slipping their feet on en pointe slippers, slow and rough and inevitable. I kiss her with a breath-catching hitch and lean her head back until everything is dizzy and glowing.

The unnamable guilt melts away for a moment, something soft and anonymous lies underneath.

She kisses me timidly, like she didn’t know what to do with herself or any limb she had honed into a perfect machine over all these years. She grabs my ponytail and drags me down anyway.

It tastes a little like the first snowfall and sparklers in July.

We kiss until all the breath is sucked out of me and every thought I ever had is but a memory, I kiss her because I can. Who knew.

We only pull away when we’re both panting and flushed.

She is smiling, truly wonderfully smiling until the dimples break across her cheeks and her eyes look like they might be watering. It was like I was waiting a lifetime for it, and she smiles once more, the dawn breaking and I could kiss her again, and again.

#wlw #sapphic #original writing #original story #gay ballerinas #I usually lose followers when I post these so please bare with me

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