#although maybe the length we watched was enough.....7 hours lol
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
i was at my boyfriends house for the weekend and we spent most of sunday watching his old family movies (*꒦ິ³꒦ີ) HE WAS SO CUTE AS A TODDLER OMGGG and the way he used to look after his younger brother had me crying :(
#he was the best big brother ever:(((#its so fun getting a look into your partners past when you didnt know them#makes me all giggly and happy#esp now that i can definitively say that i am the person who knows my boyfriend the best out of all his friends>:)#maybe i am possessive#AAAHH#i couldve watched those videos forever#although maybe the length we watched was enough.....7 hours lol#BUT IT WAS SO FUNNN#paper rings#sage.words
3 notes
·
View notes
Text
DNP Rewatch: I Got Catfished.
Date video was published: 10/14/2021 (X)
DNP Main Channel Rewatch: 447
A Phil story he had never mentioned at all before!
0:00 - just jumping right into it. I mean the title was already quite the surprise and hook. also I love his shirt
0:11 - the annotations! and that old Phil photo
0:24 - oh god the MySpace flashbacks that this video gives me
0:30 - cackling 😂
0:40 - those were some surprisingly normal air-quotes
0:51 - “ah. what a wonderful time” I love Phil
0:56 - someone did once comment during a live show that ‘snow dude’ was the original catfish
1:03 - wow that is quite the set of old photos. I do admire his dedication to decide to “be” someone and then actually do it
1:27 - almost did a spit take during my first watch of this at this point. Dan mention out of NOWHERE. also this particular comment that Phil liked... 🥺
1:41 - “just a dusting of gay” ... “we could make our own gif” I love this whole bit
1:54 - lol at him knowing what specific picture it was!
2:20 - just changed the name there from “Jake” to “Luke” within less than a minute
2:25 - more excellent annotation additions. he really had fun with those throughout his 2021 videos
2:46 - “I can be an eager guy” aww, Phil
3:01 - the sexy music! Phil must have thought “Luke” was the eager one
3:13 - so many questionable things that he ignored
3:36 - “compliments still stick with me, guys” 🥺
3:53 - the “i’m actually a massive gay” annotation 😂 king of comedy Phil
4:00 - Phil seems to remember a lot of specifics about this story
4:04 - oh yikes
4:25 - the contrast of this to the 4-hour skype calls DNP had in 2009
5:01 - very gullible young Phil. at least he realized something was up...although not enough to stop him from going to meet the guy later 😱
5:34 - awww 😕 Phil is putting more of his feelings into the story than sometimes when he’s told stories about his past
5:48 - “I need at least three weeks...” I feel that. I cannot do last minute plans that involve seeing people
6:08 - I mean at least he went for a public location
6:24 - wonder how much he felt this same worry meeting Dan in person for the first time
6:35 - ah yes, a mall food court. many teenage memories I’d like to forget about
6:50 - poor Kath 😂 I’m surprised Phil told her exactly what he was doing, actually; not sure I would have told my parents the truth in that situation
7:08 - Phil boob grab!
7:43 - how strange but nothing compared to how recognizable he would become
7:50 - was just terrified of a stranger...decides to talk to and hang out with two strangers...alrighty
7:57 - lol at his picture editing here
8:06 - DITL clip! and “fetus Dan and Phil” mention. I was so suspicious of this at the time what with them having just filmed up in Phil’s hometown.
8:32 - dun dun dun. plot twist!
8:40 - yeah how would you even react to that
9:18 - “like a villain from Scooby Doo” what a perfect description
9:41 - but that is still creepy. especially the asking to meet part. yikes
10:05 - Phil is almost being too nice about this
10:24 - yeah trying to get away as soon as possible seems like the right move at that point
10:43 - no Phil...definitely no
11:18 - “it’s not the weirdest thing that’s happened to me because of the internet” well yeah I guess he can say that...and then another Dan mention in the next sentence
11:36 - aww a nice message here at the end
12:02 - he had released this merch earlier in the month, but this was the first mention in a video
12:30 - Phil had just started posting Shorts, starting on National Coming Out Day. that “beep tour” is still one of my favorites
12:34 - he flipped the image here for some reason? maybe to match the short? or because he pointed the wrong way?
12:55 - yeah standing and showing the socks doesn’t seem like a good plan...
I love this video. Phil is such a great storyteller and it had been a while since he did a full-length one like this. Also the contrast of this story that really didn’t work out, to the little Dan mentions and the implication that eventually meeting someone off the internet really really did.
22 notes
·
View notes
Text
In His Arms Again (m.)
Early tomorrow you have an interview, and he’ll be off on a plane back to Seoul; the two of you separated again by thousands of miles. But once in a blue moon, both of your schedules will align, and Seokjin will be there, ready to pull you into his arms again.
-- or you’re Hollywood’s Golden Girl and Seokjin is Mr.Worldwide Handsome, and you’re the happiest when the both of you are fortunate enough to be in the same city.
pairing: Seokjin x Celebrity!Reader genre/warnings: unprotected sex (use a condom irl plz!!), slight angst, grammar errors (I literally have not written a short story of any kind since like middle school) word count: 2,630
author’s note: Hi! I’m going crazy in quarantine, and instead of watching the 138th BTS on Crack video I could find on youtube, I decided to try out fanfic writing. Please don’t hesitate to drop a comment. Lmk how I could improve my writing or if I should strop pursing this new hobby immediately lol.
The sharp clicks of your Louboutin heel fill the elevator as you tap your foot incessantly. The numbers on the wall seem to inch higher at the pace of a snail, and the soft French music that is playing does nothing to calm your nerves. You turn your gaze to the mirrored walls on the side of the elevator to observe your appearance. You frown. One of the straps of the black slip dress you’re wearing has fallen off your shoulder, and your make up is a little smudged. Your hair, once styled in perfect waves for the fashion show you were invited to, is now messy from being pushed around at the after party you attended. The same after party that he was at.
You knew Seokjin and the rest of the band would be in Paris this week too, but luck was really on your side tonight when he, Taehyung, and Jungkook showed up at the same high-end night club that you did. Once you saw his broad figure among the crowd and soaked him up in all his 60 inch shoulders fitted in a Gucci jacket glory, you knew you were a goner. All you wanted to do was pull him into your arms, dance with him (leaving maybe a little room for Jesus), and kiss those soft plump lips. However, the fear of unsolicited pictures and rumors on the news about you two the next day outweighed your desires, so you opted to drink one too many shots. You received a text from him a little later on in the night.
Come over tonight, I miss you babe
It had been so long; you can’t remember the last time you saw him. Was it in LA? Shanghai? London? It didn’t matter that you couldn’t remember where. You remembered his tender touchers, his soft whispers of sweet nothings, the way your name sinfully rolled off his tongue, and that’s what made the passing of time in between each visit okay.
You look so hot in that little black dress
Before you can think of a response, you feel a pair of eyes on you and look up to see his gaze on your face from across the dance floor of wasted A-listers. You thank god that he isn’t close enough to see the embarrassing blush that has crossed your face – even if he was you would have blamed it on the alcohol.
A quick response gets you his room number and the address of the hotel he’s staying at. God must really be cheering for you tonight, you think. Seokjin is at the same hotel as you, only a number of floors above your own room. You won’t have to call an Uber to his place and converse with an excited driver about your new movie like you had to do in New York City. And you won’t have to dodge a hoard of fans asking for pictures like you did that one time your hotel was within walking distance from his in Milan. After making a mental note to send flowers to your manager for booking you a room at such an opportune place, you decide to let loose and enjoy the party.
The ding of the elevator snaps you out of your memories from a couple hours earlier. With one last glance in the mirror, you step out into the hall and start walking to his room. Keeping a low profile, you bow your head thinking about how some fans are crazy and extremely talented (you’ll give it to them) enough to leak the camera footage in the halls. But no amount of admiration for a person’s hacking skills would make up for the press you would face if TMZ managed to get their hands on a video of Y/N Y/LN, Hollywood’s Sweetheart, walking to Kim Seokjin’s, 1/7 of the world’s biggest boyband, room at 1:30 am – not to mention the shit your friends would give you for not telling them about your late-night rendezvous.
You finally find yourself at room 1204, and a sudden bought of nerves hits you. It’s been so long since your schedules aligned like this, and you’re worried things will be different. After standing like an idiot by his door for a couple minutes, you wipe your sweaty hands on the silk of you dress and knock three times. There’s a slight shuffling, and before you know it, the door swings open.
You don’t think you’ll ever get used to seeing Kim Seokjin up close. Although he has already removed his makeup, his skin still glows in the dim hallway light. His cheeks are a bit flushed from drinking earlier, and a couple strands of his gelled hair grace his forehead. He has foregone the Gucci jacket he was wearing earlier, but kept his white button down and dress pants on. His shirt is unbuttoned a little revealing his toned chest, and the sleeves are rolled up so you can see the green hues of veins on his arms. His eyes sparkle with awe as his vision trails from your body to your anticipating eyes.
You think you might pass out.
“Seokjin” you breathe, finally breaking the silence. Without a warning, you find yourself being pulled into his suite and into his large arms. His lips immediately crash into yours as your back meets the door of the room.
“I’ve been thinking about you so much Y/N. It drives me insane not knowing the next time I’ll see you.” Seokjin whispers into the shell of your ear. He voice is filled with a tinge of sadness and your heart aches. All thoughts of that are out of your head when Seokjin connects his lips with your neck. You whimper in response, pushing your body closer to his.
“Jump baby” he says.
In an instant, his strong arms wrap around your thighs, and he navigates the two of you around the suite and into the king-sized bed. You feel your heart swell when he daintily places you onto the soft mattress as if this is a dream and one wrong move will cause you to disappear
He slowly starts to climb over you, and your lips connect again. You kiss Seokjin like it’s your last, and it might very well be, but you push those thoughts to the back of your mind when he slides his tongue into your mouth.
His hands start to roam the expanse of your body before one settles on your breast. You slide your hands to his exposed chest and work on the remaining buttons of his dress shirt. When you’re done, you push the fabric off his body and admire the sight of his toned abdomen in front of you.
His hips grind into yours, eliciting a moan from your mouth. You lift your own hips hoping for more contact, and you can feel him getting harder. A hand reaches behind you to find the zipper of your slip dress.
“You looked so beautiful in this tonight baby, you don’t even know what you did to me.” Seokjin growls, “But I like it even better on the floor.”
The cheesiness of his last statement is lost in the neediness of his tone. You lift your back up to let his hands unzip the dress, and soon you’re left in nothing but lace panties.
Seokjin’s eyes soak in your body before diving into the expanse of your chest. His plush lips suck at one of your nipples as his hand massages the other. His gestures become rougher as he starts to palm your chest. His other hand slips under the band of your underwear to feel your core. You gasp as his fingers find your clit, and roll the sensitive bud around.
“Tell me how it feels, Y/N” he whispers. “Wanna make you feel good tonight, make up for all the time we lost baby.”
But before you can answer, he slides a finger into your weeping cunt, earning a string of expletives from you.
“Fuck, you’re so wet. Who did this to you?” Seokjin teases, adding another finger.
“You, fu- Seokjin right there,” you pant, as he curls his fingers and reaches the spot inside of you that has you moaning. He plunges his fingers in and out of you, filling the room with sinful sounds.
You’re hands reach to palm at his clothed dick, but his free hand grabs your wrist and pins it above your head.
“Hold on babygirl, right now it’s all about you.”
So you let him finger you until his name is the only thing you know. Until you feel the warmth building up in the pit of your stomach. Until you cum so hard around his hand that you’re seeing spots.
“You did so good baby” Seokjin coos at you.
You give him a wanton smile before summoning enough strength to push him under you. With the most innocent eyes you can make, you slide lower and lower until your hot breath fans over his crotch. Jin groans in anticipation, never taking his eyes off you. Once again, your fingers work at his belt before pulling the leather out of the loopholes and tossing it carelessly behind you. You pop the button and unzip his dress pants, slowly dragging the black material down his thighs. Your mouth waters at the sight his bulge straining against his boxers. Your hands go to palm him over his underwear, feeling the outline of his cock.
“Don’t tease me Y/N, I’ve waited too long for this”
And with his words you let his dick spring free. It bounces against his toned stomach and you briefly stare in awe.
Another thing you’ll never get used to seeing is Seokjin’s dick. He is girthy, but his length is what makes you moan in need. The head is flush red and leaking beads of precum, and an angry vein pops out on the side. You thank your past self for being such a Good Samaritan that you ended up with Kim Seokjin in this life - granted even if it occurs only a handful of times a year.
You take his dick into your hand and begin to stroke up and down. Your fingers brush the precum around, lubricating his cock. Then you lean forward and plant a small kiss on the head. Your tongue peaks out to tease at the slit, and the groan that comes out of Jin sounds melodious. Slowly, you sink your mouth deeper before pulling up and sucking. You bob your head, take him deeper and deeper until he reaches the back of your throat. Increasing your pace, you try not to gag. Seokjin reaches to thread his fingers through your silky waves of hair. He begins to guide your head, gently thrusting his hips up to meet your soft lips.
“Fuck Y/N, you’re so good to me baby.” He gasps. Another moan escapes his lips, and you smile at the fact that you’re the one making him feel this way.
His grip on your hair gets tighter, ripping you out of your thoughts. He forgoes the gentle touches as he tries to reach his high. You can feel that he’s close, and with a couple hard sucks from you, he’s a mess. His hot seed spills down your throat, trailing down your mouth as he pulls his sensitive dick out.
You think Seokjin sounds so pretty when he cums that he could make a track of just his moans and it would still be number one on Billboard.
Strong hands reach to pull you up until your lips reach Jin’s and he kisses you hard. He flips you over so that your frame is entrapped by his muscular arms.
“Seokjin, I need you.” You whine into his intoxicating mouth.
“Don’t worry baby, gonna fuck you so good.” He groans.
Impatient for him to fill you up, your hand reaches between your bodies to guide his dick to your entrance. Both of you moan when he brushes his cock against you, coating it in your slick. The contact is enough to make you cry.
Slowly, he pushes into you, filling your tight hole inch by inch. You forgot how big he is and there’s a tinge of pain as he bottoms out inside of you. Another cry escapes your lips as the pain quickly turns into pleasure. Seokjin waits a second for you to adjust to him before sliding out and pushing his cock into you with more force. He begins to move faster, deeper, and you moan when the head of his big dick reaches the right spot inside of you.
“Right there Jin, keep going.” You whimper.
His brows are knit in concentration as he pummels his girth in and out of you. The sounds of his body connecting with yours fills the empty suite. It’s music to your ears. He continues to thrust into you, filling you up deliciously. You feel the familiar warmth start to build in the pit of your stomach. Seokjin can sense the closeness of your climax, and he begins to slam into you with a newfound intensity.
“You feel so good around me baby, I wanna feel you cum around my cock.” He praises.
The delicateness of his voice in contrast to his rough thrusts into your body has you quivering. A small tear slips from the corner of your eye, and before you know it, your orgasm hits you hard. Jin’s cock continues to pump in an out of you as he tries to reach his own high. He drives into you with determination, and you clench your oversensitive pussy around him. The sensation is too much for him, and you feel his hot cum fill you up. He reaches down to pull you into a passionate kiss, dick beginning to soften inside you. When he slides out, you whine at the sensation of his seed seeping out of you.
Seokjin lays on his back and pulls you so that you’re resting on his chest. He nuzzles his head into your hair, as he inhales your scent. The balcony doors of his room are open. In the distance, the Eiffel Tower glistens, and the white curtains of the suite billow in the spring breeze. You turn to look at Jin’s face, the lights from the beautiful Parisian night softly illuminating his features. He smiles tenderly at you. This is what heaven must feel like, you think.
The rest of your night is spent in Seokjin’s arms as you two catch up on everything there is to catch up on.
Seokjin sings a little bit of his unreleased song to you, and you maybe give a couple spoilers on how your next movie ends. He tells you about the time Namjoon broke a car door while they filmed Bon Voyage, and you chuckle, expecting nothing less from Jin’s clumsy bandmate. You tell him about how nervous you were to win your first Oscar, and he bashfully admits to watching your acceptance speech more than a couple times (maybe 23, but he’s a little too prideful to admit it outright). Both of you fight the drowsiness of your eyes, treasuring the small amount of time you have left together. Early tomorrow you have a magazine interview, and he’ll be off on a plane back to Seoul; the two of you separated again by thousands of miles. But you also know that once in a blue moon, both of your schedules will align, or Seokjin will finally get that vacation he’s been begging his manager for, or you’ll take that trip to Korea you’ve always wanted to take. Whatever it is, you know Seokjin will be there, ready to pull you into his arms again.
#seokjin#jin#kim seokjin#jin smut#bts smut#seokjin smut#bts#truly worldwide handsome hehe#fanfic#bts fanfic#bts fic#in his arms again#smut#writings#seokjin fanfic
117 notes
·
View notes
Text
11:37 pm - Part 2.
Summary: You learn about your favorite customer a little more.
Pairing: Erik ‘Killmonger’ Stevens X Black!Reader
Warning: Just a lil fluff.
Length: 3k.
BTW: I wasn’t really planning on making this a series, but why not. I don't really like how I ended this, but it was getting pretty long and I didn't want to drag it out. The next part will feature you and Erik hanging out more and maybe a little smut .. depends on how I’m feeling lol. Let me know if you'd like to be on a tag list for my future stories. Enjoy!
MASTERLIST
"You're awfully excited today. Is there a reason you're in such a good mood darling?" Your co-worker, an older woman named Janette, asked you.
You feigned ignorance, shrugging your shoulders as you turned and set your book bag down on the chair. It was finally Friday, around 5:45 and your shift didn't officially start until 6. You were a little early today, which was a rare occurrence, but you just couldn't wait to clock in.
You'd woke up on the right side of the bed this morning and spent the majority of your day catching up on some reading for your summer sociology class. After that, you decided to clean up your Uncle's apartment that you were staying at. Last semester when you were deciding how you were going to spend your summer, you had decided to leave your stomping grounds for something new. You loved Cali, but you found yourself quickly growing tired of the same routine with the same people. When your Uncle offered you to spend your break in one of his rentals, you jumped at the opportunity. It was New York for crying out loud, of course you'd be down. Although your days were spent doing schoolwork and ringing up customers instead of walking through Manhattan with your fancy Starbucks drink, you were still happy to be here. Sadly, there were only 3 weeks left until you had to go home and you were finding yourself getting more and more sad as the days rolled by. You were going to miss Janette, your uncle and him.
Since the first time you both had spoken, you and the handsome stranger had been talking more and more. You learned basic information like his name, that he'd recently graduated from MIT, that one of his favorite movies was Belly and a bit about his childhood. Nothing crazy, just that he played basketball 24/7 and had dreams of going pro.
You paused and sighed. Why were you thinking about him so much? During the past few days, you found yourself wondering what he was doing and where he was randomly. When you were up, was he already up? When you were doing homework, was he working? Or was he hanging out with friends? When you blinked, was he blinking at the same time? You couldn't help but ask yourself these dumb questions. He was literally running through your mind non-stop.
"Child, I've been on this earth for 53 years. I know a glow when I see one. Just make sure to enjoy whoever or whatever is making you happy while you can." A sad smile graced her face, causing you to grab her hand a give it a little squeeze. Janette confided in you a few weeks after you started working here about her husband’s passing. They had gotten into a fight, which led to her kicking him out for the night and little did she know that would be the last time she would see him. Apparently, some dope boys thought he had money and tried to rob him. When he wouldn't give them what they wanted, it led to a fight and one of the boys shooting him. It was honestly a tragedy and you'd catch Janette reading over the small clipping of the newspaper article every now and then that she kept hidden in her purse.
With a nod of her head, you watched her blink back her tears as she squeezed your hand back.
"Remember what I said, you hear?"
***
The night was going by pretty fast. You barely had time to get any studying done due to the influx of customers paying for gas or random snacks and goods. You were currently explaining the differences between two sets of condoms in depth to a man who looked way too old to be asking such a question, but you weren't one to judge.
"So, this is the Trojan Sensitivity BareSkin Premium condoms and this is the Ultra-Thin for Ultra Sensitivity Premium condoms. They pretty much do the same thing, except as you see .. this one is extra sensitive."
"They're both sensitive?" The man mumbled, his eyes darting from you to the box quickly as his hand stayed clenched on the counter.
"Yes, but this one is ultra-sensitive and thinner. The other one isn't, see?" You gave him an awkward smile and pointed to the box.
The ringing signaling that someone had entered alerted you, but you didn't have the opportunity to welcome them as the man in front of you rambled on about how he didn't know which one to get. Honestly, you could care less and wished he would just hurry up and pick one. You had spent more enough time talking about condoms than you would've liked and the look he was giving you was starting to make you feel uncomfortable.
"Which-" He cleared his throat, chuckling. "Which one would you would use? I mean, not like that. Like, if you had to pick which one you'd want your partner to use.. which one would you pick?"
His question was of genuine interest and you were seriously debating on just telling him to get out and take his business elsewhere, but this was a potential sale and you didn't want to lose out on it.
"You could just get both. You know, that way you can .. try them out for yourself. Want me to ring them up for you?" Barely giving him enough time to answer, you scanned both boxes in lightning speed. "Your total is $33.48 sir, will you be using cash or credit?"
"Have you used these before? Did they feel good?"
The rough clearing of a throat caused the man and you to look up. Your mouth hung open slightly as you stared at Erik. Did he get finer since the last time you'd seen him? His dreads were out and all over the place, but in a cute messy way. The words 'Lost Tribe' joined with the map of Africa were showcased in white and popped against his black hoodie, while a pair of low sweat pants covered his lower half. Yeah .. you were going to need him to never wear those around you again, not unless you want to be distracted every five seconds. He was staring angrily at the man in front of you and you couldn't blame him, but did he have to look so fucking sexy all mad like that?
"Hurry up nigga, people got shit to do."
The flustered man shuffled closer to the counter and pulled out some crumpled bills, not even attempting to unfold them which made you even more annoyed. You grabbed them, counting them out quickly, before cashing them in and placing his change and bag on the counter, purposely avoiding any chances of touching him. He looked as if he wanted to say something, but the heavy sigh from the man behind him stopped him in his tracks.
"Have a good day, come again." The professional worker in you couldn't help but say.
"Or don't."
You cut your eyes towards him, earning a shrug from his shoulders before the both of you watched as the man hastily grabbed his belongings and damn near rushed out of the store. Some change dropped out of his hand, but he didn't bother looking back to pick it up. Once he was gone you released a breath, suddenly yearning for a hot bath and your bed. Your day had started out good, great even and now you just really wanted it to end. It had been a while since you had to deal with a local creep.
You straightened back up, adjusting your knock-off polo tee and stayed quiet as he placed his usual donuts and Gatorade down on the table. Everything was fine when started to scan his items, until he added another addition just as you were about to total his amount.
Two snickers bar.
You couldn't help but smile, not even attempting to hide your grin as you scanned and added them to the small plastic bag. Of course he didn't want his change, so you just closed the register back after receiving his money and scooted the bag over to him. You both still hadn't exchanged any words, but it was a comfortable silence. He didn't reach for his bag for a few seconds, instead just deciding to stand there with his hands in his pockets. A part of you wanted to question what was wrong, but you didn't bother and decided to just watch him. Seconds later, one of the snickers bar was sitting in front of you.
"You trynna take a break?" He asked.
"I can't ... it's always-" The sound of two customers, a father and daughter from the looks of it, entered. The girl ran off towards the chips section while the older man who looked half past dead, sluggishly walked towards the energy drinks. Not even 30 seconds later, a group of teenagers entered loudly. ".. busy as you can see. I'm the only one here."
He nodded his head, patting the counter a couple times as if to say a silent "okay" and you could've sworn you saw a look of disappointment on his face. Ha, you doubted it. Why would he be disappointed? Or ... maybe he was? Let's be real, who wouldn't want to hang out with you? Shit, you'd be disappointed if you couldn't hang out with someone like you. Too busy with your mental pep talk, you missed most of what he had said and caught him staring at you.
"Want me to get you off?"
"Huh?" You scrunched your eyebrows together, were you hearing him right? Were you losing your mind right now?
"I asked when do you get off."
"Oh .. like in an hour. If you want, we can hang out .. if you're not busy of course. I mean it's Friday night, you probably have things to do, but if you don't' ... we could do something. Or not! I mean, it's not really a big deal or anything."
God, you were so embarrassed. What were you doing? Why couldn't you have just kept your mouth shut. Asking him out on a Friday night? Bitch, who were you? You'd never been one to make the first move when it came to guys. Rejecting rather than getting rejected was more of your thing. You ignored the stares of the other patrons shuffling around the store and nervously watched as he looked at you with an amused expression. All that shit talking you were doing in your head earlier was out the door, you were so lame. He was probably laughing at you in his head right now.
With a lick of his lips, he nodded his head. "I'll see you in an hour then."
***
You nervously picked the small piece of sausage off your pizza, popping it into your mouth quickly. You hated eating in front of guys, especially guys you liked. Who wanted to look like a hungry slob in front of someone so fine? You had asked Erik what was the most interesting thing he'd done at MIT and while he was busy going on about that, you were struggling on how you wanted to eat your pizza. Should you fold it? Should you eat it flat? You didn't want grease all on your lips, so should you break it off in pieces instead? That was actually how you really liked to eat it, but who did that? Only weirdos. Only you. You couldn't believe you were really stressing out over something so insignificant, but your insecurities wouldn't let you live.
Erik pulled you out from another of your infamous self-talks and scooted the plastic plate closer to you. Looking up, you watched as he kept his gaze on you as he chewed his food, his tongue darting out slightly to lick at the few specs of crumbs that garnered on his lips. This man was going to be the death of you.
"You always this quiet?" He inquired.
"No, I was just listening to you talk."
"I stopped talking over three minutes ago."
Caught red-handed, you finally began to eat and no longer cared how you looked. You needed to busy yourself by doing something. You picked up your slice, taking a good chunk out of it as you racked your brain for a response. A part of you was disappointed at how self-conscious you were around him. Why couldn't you just be chill and relaxed like your girls back home? Your girls that were always getting asked for their numbers. Your girls that had a new date every Friday, which usually led to you getting an earful about how good or bad the dick was Saturday night. It wasn't jealously per-say, you just wished you could be like that. Outgoing, blunt, confident with a hint of cocky. Maybe then would you actually have a life instead of staying in all the time. You sneaked a look at Erik and started to wonder why he was even hanging out with you. He looked like the type of guy that would go for one of your friends, not you.
You shrugged. "What? I was just trying to process your words. I don't understand all that smart mumbo jumbo stuff you're talking about. I barely made it through physics and pre-Cal when I was a sophomore."
You figured you said something right when you heard him chuckle before mumbling something about your "slick ass mouth".
As the conversation finally started to flow, you felt yourself relax. Erik was witty and funny, in a smart ass kind of way. Knowing you weren't from Harlem, he made sure to let you know about all the hotspots when it came to clubs and food, even assisting you with folding your pizza since he couldn't sit back and watch you disrespect the pizza like that .. his words exactly. He even suggested a few good museums that you could visit. Now that made you laugh. He didn't look like the kind of guy to actually enjoy spending a day at the museum, but you were quickly learning not to judge a book by its cover.
"What's so funny?"
You were tempted to say nothing, but it was obvious he knew something was up so you decided to just be honest.
"You're just different from what I expected you to be. On the outside, you look like the kind of guy that would fuck up a girl’s life and credit, yet every time you open your mouth ... I don't know. You just surprise me. I never suspected you to be the museum-going, woke engineer that you are. Your exterior doesn't match your interior.”
"Your exterior doesn't match your interior." He repeated, almost like he was trying to digest your words. "I like that. Does yours match? I mean, you come off all shy and shit. You steady looking all innocent and sweet whenever I see you. You know what they say about those types."
"What? That we're all undercover freaks or something?"
"Something like that."
The tone of his voice awoke the butterflies in your stomach and you kept your eyes averted from his. Somehow, he always seemed to make something sound so suggestive, not that you minded. It was a nice contrast to the way guys usually talked to you. Not that you were looking for every male in a 5-mile radius to run up to you and start talking provocatively, but it was nice to be flirted with. It made you feel sexy, it made you feel wanted.
Thinking about it, the shy girl stereotype was true in all honesty and if he wanted to find out for himself, you were down to show him.
After your meal, he offered to walk you home and of course you denied. One, you were a big girl and knew the way. Two, you didn't want him going out of his way to walk you to your place. And three, what if he turned out to be some psycho series killer? Your parents always taught you never to let anyone know you address unless you trusted them, yet here you were two seconds away from letting some guy you just met take you home.
"It's late ma. I ain't letting you walk alone when it's this dark outside, especially not dressed like that."
"What's wrong with my outfit?" Slightly offended, you looked down at yourself. A dark blue collared shirt, khaki work pants and some vans. It wasn't cute by any means, but you did just come from work after all. Seeing your shape caused you to suddenly start to feel self-conscious. You had just eaten and now your food baby was making your shirt look even more unflattering than before, it also didn't help that you already had gut before the food. 'You should've said you weren't hungry!', you screamed in your head. The light color of your fitted pants also did nothing to hide the dips and dimples in your thighs, how embarrassing.
"Nothing, but niggas here ain't like the dudes you used to back home. They gonna try some shit if you alone, but if you roll with me then they'll know better."
"But they might think you're my boyfriend or something." And what if someone he knew ended up seeing you two? He wouldn't want that. How embarrassing would that be? You could hear the comments now - "Erik's with the fat girl from the gas station!".
"And what's wrong with that?" He tilted his head to the side and gave you a look, almost as if he was daring you to say something smart.
"N-nothing."
"That's what I thought." Erik took your book bag off your shoulder in one smooth motion, putting it over his own as he wrapped his other arm around your shoulder, forcing you to walk next to him. A small gasp left your lips as he pulled you into him, his body heat spreading throughout your own and damn did he smell good. Now you knew why girls always talked about stealing their boyfriend’s hoodies. You wondered what you did in your past life to get a guy this good-looking to give you attention, or maybe you were giving him too much credit. So what he looked good? There were a million other guys who probably looked the same or better, but that did nothing to stop your heart from racing.
This man was trouble.
#black panther#black panther fanfic#black panther fanfiction#black fanfiction#erik killmonger#erik killmonger fanfic#erik killmonger fanficiton#killmonger fanfic#killmonger fanfiction#killmonger#michael b jordan fanfic#michael b jordan fanfiction#michael b jordan#mbj#mbj fanfic#mbj fanfiction#fluff fanfiction#poc fanfiction#poc fanfic#black reader#black reader fanfiction#black panther imagine#killmonger imagine#erik killmonger imagine
393 notes
·
View notes
Note
any predictions for next episode? any more thoughts on what happened this episode? everyone says this every episode but it sure was wild
I’ve been sitting on this ask for 5 whole-ass days just trying to gather my thoughts because, yeah, I do say it every week but this ep was especially wild.
I think that before I can talk about what I think is going to happen, I have to talk about what I thought was supposed to happen.
Now, before I watched the ep, I thought this fight was gonna go something like the graduation scene from Buffy because those kids came strapped and they weren’t even adventurers. They just happened to live by a hellmouth. But everyone basically dipped immediately. Now, in fairness, the bad kids are probably overleveled compared to even the seniors considering they keep going on side adventures, but man that was some weak sauce. I really wanted whoever had the highest charisma stat (Fabian or Fig I’m guessing) to give a speech, roll something crazy, and get some backup.
Like I said in a previous ask, I went into the last ep curious about what form it would take because a battle ep alone wouldn’t be enough to wrap everything up, surely. I thought they it might have been planned as a battle length ep with an extra hour or so tacked on for story and epilogueing.
I also don’t think Brennan wanted a TPK. Like, who is that fun for? Not the players who have gotten super attached to their characters by this point. Not the people paying for Dropout subscriptions. But he also made the fight pretty freaking hard. Penelope and Dayne were pretty strong mini bosses (even though they got Dayne super fast), they came into the fight at half strength, the first part of the fight had a keep away element, Goldenhoard was strong before her turned into a dragon, and then he turned into a freaking dragon. I think having Ragh there to recruit and the roll for police mechanic were meant to alleviate the sheer difficulty of the fight, but you can only rely on the luck of the die so much (something Brennan must have re-learned when he let Ally roll for a potentially story breaking action). The deck was really stacked against them. So I feel like he had a plan for a party wipe. I mean, he’s had two players die before. It’s very possible his plan was that they would all wipe, meet up in heaven, chat with Aguefort, and then come back and finish the fight, maybe after some kind of sacrifice. I think Brennan would end the series with one, maybe two significant deaths, or a full party wipe IF they specifically were making a choice to make a Big Damn Hero sacrifice. It wouldn’t be narratively satisfying if everyone just died, you know? And he knows there’s an audience element to what he’s doing.
I’ve mentioned this before, but it’s extremely wild that no one has been super concerned about Adaine’s jacket to this point. Like, I would have asked someone about it. Done some investigation. At the very least, used it more. But Adaine was basically like: Dope Jacket. +5 to Self Esteem. There’s potentially a whole plot alley we’re missing because no one’s asked the right (or any) questions.
Also wild that Gorgug can��t even look Zelda in the eye when he talks to her but he full on kissed Ragh on the lips to get him to stop beating him up. lol Imagine if he’d tried that when Fabian punched him in ep 1.
I wonder if the cast is gonna be in formal wear again next ep.
OK, I’ve gotten off topic. Back to how things were supposed to go/predictions.
I think the parents have to come into play somehow. Obvious Sklonda should be on her way and Gorthalax has shown up but Fig’s mom went off to presumably where the girls are and we need to find out how that goes. Less obviously, I think Adaine’s mom and Fabian’s are going to end up on the board. I dunno what Fabian’s mom is good for but her last appearance was her picking up a sword as Fabian rushed out which felt foreshadow-y. Anyway, if she can’t fight, she’s still rich. She can do something. And she’s a high elf so maybe she can help out smoothing things over with Falinel. Speaking of, there’s still a war on which Adaine’s family played a part in starting. If Adaine’s mom wants to follow up on her one hint that she’s not a total garbage person, now would be the time.
Adaine is the elven oracle. I feel like that has to be relevant to the fight somehow. Like, it would be weird it the only thing that played into was that she could pick up the book, right? (Unless there was gonna be a S2 where that would be explored. Sidenote, I am starting to feel like next season might be different characters, same setting. That’s still not my main theory, but we’re leaving a lot of story on the table potentially. Although I did see they might be doing a comic? Idk). Of all the knocked out people (minus Kristen who is about to avenging angel rise from the dead) Adaine is probably in the best position because she’s with Fabian who is the only conscious party member. So that’s good I guess.
I just took a look at the prophecy and it has two parts. The first part says the things that need to happen before Kalvaxus can be released (K beholds his treasure, 7 maidens chained, war befalls the realm, king and queen crowned). All that happened. Kalvaxus was released. They can’t stop it at this point (barring time travel, which, to be fair, was mentioned earlier). The second part of the prophecy is the consequences: Kalvaxus will be released, his destruction will know no bounds, the sun shall fall from the Heavens, and the world as we know it shall perish forever.
Two parts of that strike me as especially significant. There’s the sun falling from the Heavens part. That implies Sol, right? Especially with the capitalized “Heavens”. So that doesn’t sound good.
And the second part is “the world as we know it shall perish forever”. That doesn’t mean the world is going to end, necessarily. That means the world is going to CHANGE. Which makes me wonder if THAT is/was the planned endgame for the season. The bad kids fail to prevent the prophecy and things change in a drastic way which is why the setting for next season is super different.
And, back to the party wipe, Brennan didn’t seem very fazed as the entire party was dropping like flies, but he was *shook* when Ally rolled that 20 at the end. Like, compare that to the ep where Siobhan said they jossed his plans or Lou’s awesome nat 20 to beat a nat 20. In the first case, he didn’t react at all. In the second case, he celebrated with everyone else. When Ally did it, he was sitting there slack jawed. The healer rezzing should be a best case scenario, right? It gives the rest of the party a fighting chance. And, clearly, it wasn’t what he was expected and he wasn’t excited. It makes me feel like he wanted a party wipe for some reason.
Anyway, I’m sure I’m forgetting something but that’s what I got for now.
#fantasy high#asks#farahblack#sorry this took so long!#oh also tracker has to show up again#assuming kristen doesn't die for real#which she won't
5 notes
·
View notes
Text
The Internship - Chapter 3
We’re 3 chapters in, team! Halfway there and things are about to get real!
So buckle up, let’s keep going with this multi-chapter Bittyparse fluff-fest, now featuring special guest Angst. 5 chapters, weekly updates. Also on ao3. <3
Fic Summary:
Eric Bittle arrived in New York two weeks ago, newly single and ready for a fresh start. This internship was just what he needed to jumpstart his life.
Kent Parson loved his life in New York. He was at the peak of his NHL career. He had friends, the world’s greatest cat, and everything he thought he needed.
He never expected a small Southern blonde to burst into his life and turn everything on its head.
“Okay, brah, so what happened after that?”
Bitty rolled his eyes and adjusted the laptop resting on his knees. “C’mon, Shitty, I told you this part already. He grabbed my arm so I wouldn’t fall and then stared at me for a minute.”
Shitty cupped his chin in his hand and sighed longingly at the screen. “Fucking love at first sight, my man. Like a scene out of a queer-positive, alternate universe John Hughes movie.”
“You sap,” Lardo snorted, and shoved Shitty’s shoulder. “So what will you do?”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, you obviously want to bone him and have his hypothetical babies, so what’s the plan?”
Bitty sputtered. He could feel his cheeks blushing and he covered his face with his hands to hide the evidence. This was embarrassing enough as it was.
“I don’t know, guys…I don’t even know if I like him like that.”
Lardo arched one eyebrow.
Shitty leaned offscreen briefly, then reappeared with a joint between his fingers. He waved it at Bitty decisively. “You can’t fool us, little brah. You look super glowy for a dude who just spent two hours with another dude he didn’t like.”
Bitty sighed. He knew it was fibbing to say that he didn’t like Kent. But what was he supposed to do? He didn’t want to lie, but the situation was a mess. Kent was his client. And Jack’s ex. And a hockey player. Apparently Bitty had a type, and his type was Closeted Top Scorers in the Eastern Conference.
He was pretty sure Kent felt something for him, too. He may not have a lot of relationship experience, and goodness knows it took him and Jack long enough to sort out their feelings, but he also wasn’t born yesterday, and Kent’s winks and smiles and lingering stares…well, he could read between those lines.
“Earth to Bitty…hellloooo?”
Bitty looked back at the screen, where Shitty was waving his arms at the camera.
“Look, I like him. Okay? I want to have his – lordy – his hypothetical babies. But he’s Fancy Feline’s client. Isn’t that illegal or somethin’?”
Shitty stroked his mustache. “It could be problematic, I’ll give you that. But it’s only a conflict of interest if it affects the business relationship. As long as you keep it on the DL and don’t, like, grab his ass in meetings – although, the guy does have a handful of handsome ass…maybe a couple handfuls…”
“Shitty!” Bitty cried. His cheeks were seriously going to catch fire.
“Sorry bro. What was I sayin’? Oh, as long as you keep it professional and don’t let it affect your business decisions, I wouldn’t sweat it. Besides, if they transfer you to another department when your internship ends, you’re golden. You can grab all the hot hockey ass you want.”
Bitty leaned his head back against the headboard. What did he even want? He didn’t want to jeopardize this job, goodness knows he needed it for his resumé. But he also wanted Kent. Lord, how he wanted.
Bitty tried to remember the last time he was this infatuated with another person. It was obviously Jack – he and Jack had circled each other for two years before making a move. They’d wasted so much time that they could have spent together. Bitty didn’t want to make that mistake again.
He didn’t have the luxury of time with Kent. At the end of September, his three-month internship would be over. That was only a month away. What if the company didn’t extend his contract? The Rangers’ season would start in October, and it’s not like Kent would have loads of free time. If Bitty didn’t give him a reason to make time, they might never see each other again.
Lardo leaned in and eyed the screen as she said, “You’re thinking awfully hard, Bits. Care to share?”
Bitty nodded to himself, decision made.
“I’m gonna go for it.”
Shitty whooped and Lardo smirked.
“Shitty, you’re right. I reckon we can keep it professional, and I don’t wanna lose my chance by waiting. If he’s interested – and that’s a big if.” Bitty pointed at the camera for emphasis. “If he’s interested, I want to give it a shot.”
_/_/_/ \_\_\_
Kent’s phone buzzed for the fifth time in an hour. It was from Eric, another chirp about the episode of Chopped they were both watching. Kent grinned and tucked his toes under Kit’s couch cushion as he typed a reply.
Somehow, ever since their meeting in the café, Kent and Eric had gone from business acquaintances who occasionally texted, to text acquaintances who occasionally talked business. Kent was totally down for the shift. He hadn’t seen Eric in person since then – his schedule had gotten crazy and he knew Eric was swamped with his job – but he was already imagining the things they would do the next time they saw each other.
It was super lame to be crushing this hard on someone he hardly knew. He was almost thirty, for god’s sake, and he probably should have wised up a decade ago. But you know what, fuck it. He’d wasted most of his twenties pining after a teenage heartbreak. He was a grown-ass dude now and he could do what he wanted.
Kent: i found where we should go to our next meeting thingy
Eric: Our monthly touchbase? That’s great! Where?
Kent: i’m not telling. it’s a surprise
Eric: Ok lol, how am I supposed to get there?
Kent: i’ll pick u up
Kent: lambo or r8?
Eric: Bless you
Kent: cool, r8 it is
Eric: [puzzled emoji]
Kent: [sportscar emoji] [thumbs-up emoji] [sunglasses emoji]
Kent set his phone on the table when it became clear Eric wasn’t replying right away. He snuggled further down the couch, and Kit stretched out on her cushion like she was trying to protect her space from his feet. Kent’s legs were sore from a grueling practice today, and it felt good to relax at home.
Kent’s phone buzzed and he grabbed for it. That would be Eric, chirping him about his flashy cars.
Jack: Hi Kent. Ready for pre-season?
Definitely not Eric. That was cool, he could roll with the punches.
Kent: hey zimms
Jack: When is your first game?
Kent: next saturday at home, then leave for a 2-game roadie in cali
Kent: u?
Jack: We play the Isles next Friday
Kent: cool
Eric: how on earth you justify TWO sports cars in NYC, I’ll never know. smh.
Kent’s stomach did a little flip at seeing Eric’s name on the screen.
Kent: three
Kent: sports cars, that is. if u count the beamer
Eric: Lord, where do you even park them?
Eric: Also what day is good to meet? How 'bout Saturday?
Jack: Would you want to meet up this weekend? We’ll be in New York until Saturday afternoon.
Jack: It would be nice to see you.
Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit.
Kent muted the television. He needed to think right now, and he couldn’t do it with Ted Allen describing kumquat soup in the background. Fucking hell. Of course Eric and Jack wanted to meet on the same goddamn weekend. Kent’s life was basically a Lifetime movie. He scrubbed his face with his hands and weighed his options.
He really wanted to see Eric. That was a given. Eric made him feel weirdly happy. It was the first time in forever that he’d felt this optimistic about someone.
And Zimms…Kent hadn’t hung out with Jack since the doomed frat party of 2014, not unless you counted the small talk at galas and awards ceremonies. He didn’t even know what they had in common anymore other than hockey. It might be totally weird, but meeting up was part of his Being-Friends-With-Jack Master Plan, and he still wanted to be friends, even if it required super awkward hangout time.
A niggling part of Kent’s brain was worried that seeing Jack would dredge up old feelings. Kent was doing fine now, doing great actually, but when Jack had called him ‘Kenny’ last month, his brain had gone totally haywire. What if seeing him was like that, but a million times worse? What if he fell hopelessly in love again?
Kent flopped across the couch and onto Kit, trapping her with his arms and nuzzling his face into her side.
“Tell me what to do, baby girl.”
Kit twisted like a goalie blocking a wraparound and jumped free of Kent’s arms. He watched her disappear into the bedroom.
“I see how it is!” Kent called after her.
His phone buzzed. Crap, he probably should have texted Eric and Zimms back like five minutes ago.
Eric: I'm also free Thursday or Friday
Kent’s stomach swooped. Before he could answer, his phone dinged again.
Jack: I’m sorry if that was overstepping.
Jack: I understand if you don’t want to meet up.
Kent noticed that his stomach didn’t do any swoopy-feelings at seeing Jack’s name on his phone. Huh. That was a good sign, right?
Eric: Basically I have no life yet in this city........ :/
Kent felt the swoopy feeling again. Yep, he definitely only felt it for Eric. Taking it as a sign from the Lifetime movie gods, he replied,
Kent: how's thursday? gotta get my beauty sleep friday and saturdays the game
Eric: Thursday's great! 6pm?
Eric: Y'know, can we make it 7pm instead?
Kent: 7 is perf. text me ur address
And to Jack,
Kent: sure zimms, let’s meet sat morning
Kent unmuted the television and stretched his legs along the full length of the couch. The upholstery was warm where Kit had been sleeping.
Now would probably be a good time to tell Jack and Eric about each other. He was pretty sure adults were supposed to tell each other about being friends with exes, although he’d never been in that situation. It seemed like an upstanding thing that a real adult would do.
But what would he say to Jack that wouldn’t scare him away? And more importantly, what would he say to Eric that wouldn’t be a total buzzkill for whatever feelings Eric potentially had for him?
He stared vacantly at the TV. If he told Eric about Jack, and then Jack decided to ghost him again, he’d ruin his chances with Eric for nothing. His and Jack’s track record of being friends wasn’t exactly stellar. Hanging out with Jack might be awkward and he'd bail after an hour. Surely that wouldn’t warrant telling Eric about. And if it went well, Kent would have plenty of time to tell him later. Right?
Kent nodded at his own logic. He would wait to tell them. It would be fine.
Everything would be fine.
_/_/_/ \_\_\_
“…I’ve been here all night….I’ve been here all daaaay…and boy you got me walkin’ side to side…”
Bitty swayed his hips and sang along over the hairdryer.
He’d been looking forward to this meeting all week. If he was being honest, it was a work meeting only in name. He’d transferred his work files to his phone so he wouldn’t need a laptop. He’d pushed the start time to 7pm so they wouldn’t hit happy hour. He wanted to have the luxury to take things slowly, to suggest dinner or more drinks without the pressure of happy hour ending at seven.
He stepped back from the mirror and gave himself a come-hither look. Should he add eyeliner?
He grabbed his phone off the toilet back.
Bitty: eyeliner??
Lardo: yasss
Bitty: [blowing kiss emoji]
He closed one eye, stuck out his tongue in concentration, and started to apply.
At 7:05, Bitty’s front door buzzed. Kent was downstairs, leaning against a royal blue Audi. He flashed Bitty a smile as he opened the passenger door, then walked to the other side and slid into the driver’s seat. When he pressed the ignition, the powerful engine settled into a deep purr.
“You ready to start your New York education?”
As they crossed the Manhattan Bridge and drove into lower Manhattan, Bitty’s leg bounced restlessly. He forced himself to sit still and squeezed his fingers together in his lap. Kent was right here, and he was so much hotter than Bitty remembered. It was hard to be around him without staring; everything about him felt electric. Eric willed his dick to ignore the observation. His skinny khakis wouldn’t exactly hide an erection.
They pulled up to a swanky hotel and a uniformed man opened Bitty’s door. Kent gave instructions to the valet and handed her a folded bill.
“Is this where we’re going?”
“Nah, we’re just parking. The Dominick does good valet service.” Kent grinned and motioned for Bitty to follow him down the block. “You’ll see. We’re going to a real New York institution.”
The location Kent had picked for their date (meeting, Bitty scolded himself) turned out to be a 1960’s tiki bar that had been in business for fifty years. Kent peppered Bitty with details about local history as they made their way to the bar.
The interior of the bar was dark and hazy. The ceiling was completely covered with autographed dollar bills pushed into the ceiling with drink umbrellas; Kent pointed out his own name, and Bitty politely pretended he could see it in the mass of bills. Surfing movies played on a TV in the corner, vintage posters covered the walls, and everything was covered in a fine film of dust.
Kent ordered drinks – two variations of something fruity and blended, garnished with pineapple – and he let Bitty try both and pick his favorite. They slid into a mostly-hidden back booth. Bitty noticed the bill Kent slipped the bartender, and the ‘Reserved’ sign the bartender removed from the tabletop before they took their seats.
Bitty couldn’t help feeling a little bit awed at the way Kent spent money. Jack and Kent both made a lot of money playing hockey (Kent made two million more, not that Bitty’d checked, that wouldn’t be polite). But they spent it so differently. Jack was reserved and cautious, investing in real estate and vehicles with good mileage and safety records. Kent spent money like it was water. He seemed to view money as a means to solve problems and enjoy himself. After years of coexisting with Jack, Bitty found Kent’s largesse exciting.
As they sipped their drinks, the conversation was light and easy. Bitty leaned into Kent’s space and listened to him describe his favorite New York restaurants. They traded stories and chirps until their glasses were empty and Kent hailed a waiter.
“Another?”
Bitty grinned and nodded. His limbs felt loose and warm. Lordy, he couldn’t even taste the rum in these drinks.
When their refills arrived, Bitty leaned forward to taste Kent’s drink and used the movement as an excuse to shift his knee so that it pressed against Kent’s under the table. Kent glanced up sharply. He didn’t move away. Bitty’s stomach did somersaults.
The thing Bitty loved about conversations with Kent, is how he felt like an equal in them. He didn’t feel young or inexperienced or like an object of adoration – although watching the way Kent’s eyes tracked him as he talked, maybe there was a little of that, too. But he felt like an adult and an equal. Bitty had as many stories to share as Kent did, and Kent seemed genuinely interested in them. He asked follow-up questions about Bitty’s job. He whistled at Bitty’s recounting of the Jam Fiasco of 2015. Bitty thrived on the attention.
By the time they finished their second drinks, Bitty had his hand on Kent’s forearm as Kent regaled him with an embarrassing story of him and his old teammate, Jeff Troy, at a state fair. Bitty gasped as Kent concluded the story by miming a bin of stuffed animals falling on top of them.
“Oh my!” Bitty exclaimed. “Thank goodness y’all were alright.”
Kent looked down at Bitty’s arm, opened his mouth to say something else, closed it again. Bitty was suddenly very aware of the places their bodies were touching.
Feeling brave, he traced his finger down Kent’s arm to his wrist, following a vein just below the skin. Kent inhaled. He watched Kent’s lips, parted slightly with his breath. Bitty wanted to kiss him so badly. He felt invincible from the alcohol and Kent’s attention.
Before he could lose his nerve, he leaned forward and pressed his mouth to Kent’s.
The kiss was gentle and lasted only a few seconds. Kent moved his lips against Bitty’s, hesitantly, chastely. To an outsider it probably looked innocent enough, and before Bitty could lose himself in the moment, Kent pulled away.
“Not here,” he breathed.
Bitty leaned back. Oh lord, how had he forgotten? Kent was famous in this city and he wasn’t out. There could be cameras anywhere. Kent could be outed on Deadspin tomorrow and it would be so awful for his career. Bitty pressed his hands to his face. Goodness, he’d been so selfish.
Kent looked at Bitty with concern. Bitty could feel the flush of embarrassment rising in his cheeks.
“It’s okay,” Kent whispered, “I…I want to, just…later?” He cocked his head to one side and asked in a normal volume, “How about we get some food?”
Bitty nodded, still feeling horrified. Things had been going so well, and he totally messed it up with his stupid recklessness.
They closed their tab and walked outside into the warm September night.
_/_/_/ \_\_\_
“So, uh, is pizza okay? I had a place picked out, but we could find somewhere else if pizza after Mai Tais is a no-go.”
Kent looked at Eric hopefully, wishing he could turn the dial back ten minutes and put the wide, happy grin back on Eric’s face.
“Pizza’s fine.”
Kent tried a new conversation topic. “Got any plans after your internship ends? It must be soon, right?”
Eric nodded. “I think they might give me an offer in a different department, outside the Pet division. I’ve had a couple interviews.” Kent nodded as Eric got into the rhythm of the conversation and started to sound more like himself. “Of course, I want to move to the magazine – Home Cooking, they sell it in supermarket checkouts?” Eric glanced over and Kent made a noise like he’d heard of it, “but it’s so darn competitive. I don’t know where I’ll end up.”
Kent half-smiled. He was happy for Eric, even if it blew that he wouldn’t work with Kent and Kit anymore. He’d known from the beginning that Eric’s internship was temporary. He wondered if it would be appropriate to send a letter of recommendation to someone about the food magazine. He’d seen firsthand how good Eric was at his job. The company would be crazy to let him get away. He filed the thought away for later.
“Will you stay in New York?”
Eric nodded and looked around him in a way that made Kent imagine he was assessing the worthiness of all New York City.
“Yeah, the city’s growin’ on me. The company’s based here. And I’ve made some friends,” he turned and met Kent’s eyes, “I’d feel like I missed out if I left now.”
They lingered over pizza at the little restaurant Kent picked out. Eric perked up after a slice of margherita pizza and a coke. He asked Kent all about this year’s team and how Kent felt about their chances in the preseason.
Kent couldn’t stop looking at Eric’s eyes. They looked fucking beautiful, warm honey brown ringed with dark lashes, and it was all Kent could do to keep his hands to himself. He wished they were somewhere private so he could kiss him again. He wanted to feel Eric’s fingertips on his arm again, to lean into his kiss instead of having to pull away. Would Eric be down for it if Kent asked him to come back to his place? What if he was hella offended? He was Southern, did that make a difference? He should have googled this shit beforehand.
Kent waited until they were back on the sidewalk, strolling away from the restaurant with no particular destination, to ask the question.
“Uh, so, I only live a few blocks from here. It’s a nice night…do you, um, maybe want to walk back to my place and leave the car? I can hire you a ride back to Brooklyn whenever you want.”
He could see Eric blush in the yellow light of the streetlamp. It hadn't been his smoothest line, and he hoped he’d read the situation right.
“I wouldn’t be a bother? Don’t you have early practice?”
“You could never be a bother.”
Kent cringed. Welcome to Cheesy McCheesetown, population him.
Eric smiled tenderly, apparently not noticing Kent’s total lack of cool.
“Well, then. I’d love that.”
Kent grinned. His chest felt lighter than it had in months. Eric liked him. Eric wanted to spend time with him and kiss him and come back to his place and hopefully do other things with him. He felt like he’d won the fucking lottery.
They started walking. Kent looked quickly behind them to see that the street was deserted, then reached out and traced his index finger down the outside of Eric's hand. Eric moved his hand closer and pressed their fingertips together. Kent's face felt warm. He felt like a giddy teenager walking home after the homecoming dance, not that he'd ever had a homecoming. He briefly squeezed their fingers together.
When they reached his building, Eric casually put his hands in his pockets as he followed him inside. He stood off to the side, typing on his phone, as Kent asked the concierge to retrieve his car from SoHo; and Kent remembered that Eric had done this before.
Eric knew how to date a famous athlete in the closet. This wasn’t his first time looking unobtrusive in the lobby of a condo building. It was a very specific skill set, and Kent wanted to fight every homophobe who'd made it so Eric needed to learn those skills in the first place. He deserved so much better. Although he had to admit, not many people knew how exhausting it was for guys like Kent and Jack to keep up the bro-ey pretense of heterosexuality, and it felt really fucking good that Eric understood.
Kent nearly vibrated out of his skin as they rode the elevator up to Kent’s apartment. He kept his hands shoved in his jeans pockets, trying not to look nervous.
As soon as the apartment door closed, he turned to Eric and gingerly took his face in both hands. Eric stared up at him, eyes dark.
“Can I kiss you?” he asked.
Eric grinned without answering, then leaned forward and pressed his lips against Kent’s. Kent tried not to moan at finally getting the contact he’d wanted all night. He brushed his tongue inside Eric’s mouth, relishing the hot wetness. He ran his fingers up through Eric’s hair and smelled his coconut shampoo.
Kent hummed in encouragement as Eric wound his hands around Kent’s back and down over his ass. He squeezed playfully, smiling against Kent’s lips, then pulled away just enough that Kent stopped and looked at him questioningly. When Eric seemed satisfied that he had Kent’s attention, he pushed Kent backward with more strength than Kent would have expected, pressing him against the wall of the entryway and bracing him in place with a hand on each of his hips.
“This okay, hon?” Eric asked through his lashes.
Jesus fucking Christ. “More than okay.”
Eric kissed him again, deep and filthy. A shiver ran down the whole length of Kent’s body, and he instantly felt himself go from mildly aroused to hard as a fucking rock.
A small chirp sounded from behind them. Kent groaned.
He turned his face away from Eric’s lips and grumbled, “Go away, Kit. I’ll feed you later.”
Another chirp. This time Kit came right up to them and butted her head against Kent’s shinbone, annoyed. Kent wondered if locking her in the guest bath would be considered animal cruelty. He sighed and relented.
“Sorry, Eric, I forgot. I usually feed her right when I get home.”
Eric gave him an amused little smirk. “You’d better get on that, Mister Parson. She looks mighty displeased.”
“I’ll be back in two minutes.” He leaned forward and kissed the smirk off Eric’s face with quick, silly, closed-mouth kisses. Eric laughed and squirmed away.
Kent ran to the kitchen and proceeded to set a land speed record for preparing cat food. When he finished, he found Eric in the living room with all the lights turned off, watching the city from the wall-to-wall windows. The night skyline of Manhattan lit up his face in a warm yellow glow. Kent stood behind him and circled his arms around his waist, resting his chin on Eric’s shoulder.
“Amazing, isn’t it?”
Eric half-laughed, half-sighed. “If you’d told sixteen-year-old me that in a handful of years I would be living in New York City, making it on my own, enjoying dinner and drinks and this,” he gestured pointedly between Kent and himself, “with a hot NHL star...I would’ve said you were downright crazy.”
Kent smiled and trailed little kisses down the back of Eric’s neck, feeling pleased with himself when he felt Eric shiver. “C’mon,” he whispered into Eric’s ear.
“Hmm?”
Kent slid his hands over Eric’s torso, brushing the exposed skin at the waistband of his khakis. “Come with me. I know a few things we could do that would make sixteen-year-old Eric blush.”
Eric snorted. “Oh my god, Kent, that line was awful.”
Kent grinned. “Did it work?”
Eric just laughed, full and throaty, and pulled Kent in the direction of the bedroom.
“Uuuugggghhhh.”
Kent groped around on the bedside table for his phone. Why the fuck was his alarm going off? It was so goddamn early. How was anyone awake at this ungodly hour?
He turned off the offending alarm and reached out for Eric, but the bed next to him was empty.
Kent was immediately awake. He sat up.
When had Eric left? Oh god, had he done something to offend him? He tried to recall what would have upset Eric enough for him to leave, but nothing stood out. The last thing he remembered from the night before was both of them crawling under the sheets, post-orgasm, and Eric laying his hand on Kent's chest as they passed out.
He scrubbed his hands over his face and looked around. A little yellow sticky note sat next to his phone.
Kent,
I had so much fun last night.
I left early, needed a shower & clothes before work.
Kick ass in your game.
<3 EB
_/_/_/ \_\_\_
Bitty scrambled for his phone when it buzzed, praying it would be Kent. He’d had two false alarms already this morning – a good-morning note from his mama and a string of eggplant emojis from Shitty.
Kent: my pillow smells like you
Bitty: [blushing emoji] you got my note?
Kent: i did
Bitty: Sorry I had to run, I forgot we had a team meeting at 8 and I kinda needed a shower
Kent: heh yeah
Kent: i mean, if you’d let me swallow like i was planning to
Bitty: Oh lordy
Kent: but nooo, u wanted it on my abs
Bitty: Kent Parson
Kent: and then it got everywhere
Bitty: We are not having this conversation while I’m sittin’ in a SHARED cubicle
Kent: [smiling devil emoji] [winking kiss emoji]
Bitty swiveled his chair so he faced away from his cubicle-mate. He hunched over the screen and reread Kent’s texts, beaming like an idiot.
Bitty: Will I see you before your roadie?
Kent: probably not
Kent: we have practice & team photos today, game tmrw, then hit the road right after
Bitty: :( :( :(
Kent: I’d love to meet up next weekend after i’m back
Bitty: I’d like that :D
Bitty: Btw you earned serious baked goods last night
Kent: i live to please [cherub emoji]
Kent: and my favorite flavor is blueberry
Blueberry. Hmm. Bitty had all sorts of blueberry recipes he could bake for Kent. If he stopped by Whole Foods on his way home from work, he could whip up a batch of blueberry mini crumbles easy-peasy. Or maybe the blueberry brie tartlets the boys had been so fond of at the Haus? He opened his browser to research recipes.
It was a bummer that Kent couldn’t hang out until next week. Bitty had no plans tonight and baking would take his mind off the excitement of the last couple days.
That’s alright, he could wait until next week.
He could wait.
If he stopped on his way home and picked up some blueberries, surely that was alright.
If he washed the blueberries and set the butter out to room temperature, that was just smart preparation.
Well, as long as everything was out, he might as well make a little somethin'.
Two batches of mini crumbles, two batches of tartlets, and one batch of sweet potato cat treats later, Bitty finally felt calm enough to crawl into bed. He knew Kent would be busy tomorrow, but he could drop by quickly and give Kent the baked goods and a good-luck kiss. He wouldn’t even have to go inside. It would be sweet and perfect.
The next morning, Bitty tied two bakery boxes with twine and a little note; presentation was important. Kent had said their practice was over at 10, so at 10:30 he skipped up the front steps of Kent’s building and set down his boxes in the lobby.
Bitty: Hi hon, are you home?
Kent: hi what’s up?
Bitty: I have a surprise for you [winking kissy face]
Kent: ??
Bitty: Let me up and I can show you [winking emoji]
Kent: how about I come downstairs to u?
Bitty: Oh don’t you worry, this won’t take but a minute
Bitty: I don’t mind makin’ the trip
Kent: that’s ok you don’t have to
Kent: i can come down
Kent: i don’t mind
Kent: eric?
Bitty hopped into the elevator with a woman holding a Pomeranian, pushing the button for Kent’s floor after she’d swiped her keycard. He smiled in what he hoped looked like a friendly-not-intruder way. Kent was so silly. He didn’t mind coming up at all. No reason Kent should have to interrupt his routine for Bitty.
Bitty knocked on Kent’s door and Kent opened it right away, like he’d been waiting for him. He had on basketball shorts and a Rangers t-shirt. His hair was sweaty. He didn’t invite Bitty in.
“Hey Eric, I didn’t expect you today.”
“Oh honey, I was just in the area and thought I’d drop off a little somethin’ for the boys on your roadie.”
Bitty handed Kent the packages and Kent smiled as he sniffed appreciatively. He turned briefly to listen to something in the other room, and his smile faded. He turned back to Bitty.
“That’s really cool, man. Thanks.”
Bitty started to wish him good luck, but he stopped when he thought he heard…was that footsteps?
Kent jumped in, “Sorry I couldn’t hang out today, I just–”
“Parse, where are the bowls?”
A tall, dark-haired man in running shorts and yellow sneakers walked into the entryway holding a box of cereal. He froze when he saw Bitty.
Bitty’s heart stopped. “Jack?”
“Bittle.”
Bitty backed away, clutching his phone to his chest. What was happening? He couldn’t breathe. Why was Jack here? From somewhere far away, he heard Kent saying his name.
He turned and ran.
#bittyparse#eric bittle#kent parson#kit purrson#jack zimmermann#omgcp#omgcp fic#omgcp fanfic#kent plays for the rangers#parsepositive#i'm posting all of this because i'm too excited to wait#hope you like it!
2 notes
·
View notes
Text
How I fixed “The Emoji Movie”
(inside my head, without actually having seen it, or "Wreck-It Ralph," or "Inside Out," or "The Lego Movie," I seriously need to get out more, although I did see "The Lego Batman Movie" and that was pretty cool. ♪ Friends are Family ♪ )
So, if I was the Queen of Hollywood, this is what I’d do. Let us begin.
1. A little product placement is not a sin, but full-blown product immersion is both a sin and a crime, and in a world run by evil geniuses, the guilty would be stripped naked, wrapped several times around in succulent vines and acacia leaves, and dangled upside-down from a crane just inside the giraffe paddock at the zoo during feeding time. More on this later.
2. Gene's new problem is that he desperately wants to help Alex take a shot at true love with Addie, because he's a romantic at heart, but fears he will never have the opportunity to do so, since kids...probably don't send a "Meh" to their crush to demonstrate their affection. At least I don’t think they do. But anyway. Gene feels the pang of unfulfilled dreams because he thinks (based on what other emojis say) that humans ONLY interact through their phones. We’ll fix this.
3. Jailbreak doesn't reject being a princess, she just wants being a princess to mean something more than a pretty dress and sparkly crown. She wants to do something heroic because she understands girls can lift themselves up without pushing approximately half the population down, and that you can be pro-woman without being anti-man. (Source: am girl.)
4. Hi-5 has been reduced from sidekick to running gag, showing up only occasionally to deliver a zinger and then disappear again for awhile.
5. Alex gets more screen time, often while he uses his phone to record a vlog about Addie, the Girl of His Dreams, but he never plucks up the courage to post it to...wherever, and always saves it to "Draft." But Gene watches these videos religiously, becoming more and more determined to bring the two of them together, somehow. Vive l’amour!
6. Smiler doesn't persecute Gene for being a multi-faceted misfit, she gleefully attempts to exact justice because Gene now exploits Jailbreak's mad hacker skillz to send cryptic, Cyrano de Bergerac-esque messages to Addie's phone, pretending to be Alex. See, the world can never know that phones have tiny sentient entities inside them, running around having coherent thoughts (ohai, Skynet!), therefore Smiler believes whatever fate she calls down upon Gene is justified, and...y'know...once in awhile, the villain has a point. Crazy, I know.
7. Some of the rounder emojis have bodies now! I mean...Jailbreak already had a small one, because she's wearing a skirt (that's a skirt, right?), so why not put a little meat on ALL of their bones so they don't look like ping pong balls on sticks? Then Jailbreak can slap a sparkly pink crown sticker on her cargo pants and say, "This is my princess dress."
8. Jokes. There should be some! Low-hanging fruit should be kept to a minimum, with no more than three (3) instances of scatological humor throughout the picture. Sorry, Mr. Poop.
9. And about that Poop emoji. In my version, he is now a mentor who shows up about an hour in, to reveal to Gene the myriad ways in which humans communicate, and to encourage Jailbreak to forge her own path to princesshood through valiant deeds, all while delivering a powerful message about transcending one’s limits, as he must have done himself to become such a wise oracle despite starting his digital life as a neatly-coiled pile of excrement. I would gladly have Sir Patrick Stewart voice my headcanon Poop emoji, even knowing that he probably thoroughly enjoyed doing the job he’s already done. To each his own. Moving on.
10. Gene’s parents have a little less screen time now, and instead of debating what kind of “Meh” their darling boy will make, they can just do a bit about the red-hot passion of their marriage, but in the same monotone voices. It’ll work.
11. Instead of old school emoticons being “the elderly,” maybe they’re just a bit older than other residents of Textopolis, and not totally decrepit, shouting “Ow, my colon!” when someone bumps into them. Seriously, old people don’t say that. You generally cannot feel your colon. Maybe they walk into the McCafé app and get a free senior’s coffee instead. That’s plenty.
12. Back to the product placement. If you’re gonna have your main characters running through apps, the goal is to do something clever with it, which is the opposite of what I gather has already happened. So, you’re running from some bad robots, and you run into the Facebook app. Can you rip elements off the phone’s screen and use them as weapons? Rip off a “Like” button and hold it up as a shield? Would the “Like” button then disappear as Alex was about to tap it? Was this possibility even explored? You remember those animations of the stickman who runs amok all over the UI and does battle with the user by attacking the cursor? That shit was awesome. Let’s do some of that.
13. Instead of trying to get to Dropbox so they can alter their own source code..........? (LOL THEY DON’T KNOW HOW TO COMPUTER) Instead of that, Gene and Jailbreak go to the Cloud so they can infiltrate Addie’s phone and deliver proof of Alex’s ardor “in person.” If we absolutely must visit Candy Crush, maybe they flip over a bunch of red jellybeans in the shape of a heart, or...something. Maybe they could meet their Meh and Princess counterparts over there, and maybe they’re hilariously different. Or something.
14. Once that happens, though, Smiler is going to go into absolute panic mode, and probably send a whole army of robo-meanies to all sorts of different phones trying to track them down. As the virus of her own making spreads, chasing the virus of her worst fears, she resolves that she will use her bots to wipe every phone within her reach rather than let the secret of living emojis be discovered. We’re already suspending ten kinds of disbelief to get this far, so expanding Smiler’s powers might not be terribad.
15. Meanwhile, Gene and Jailbreak, while trolling around inside Addie’s phone, learn that she’s leaving with her family for the whole summer (maybe going to the cottage? around here folks love going to the cottage, it’s the summer thing to do), and if Alex doesn’t make his move soon, he could lose her. Oh noes!
16. Home stretch now. Gene realizes, after all his efforts, the best way Alex can tell Addie how he feels is with his own words, and fortunately, Gene knows where to find some of them! With Jailbreak’s help, he transfers a copy of Alex’s unposted vlog to Addie’s phone, where she stumbles across it and plays it. Now...if this happened in real life, it’d be some pretty serious stalker stuff, but again, we’re suspending fair amounts of disbelief already. Did the actual movie establish Addie crushing on Alex at all before the end? Well, whatever. Maybe if his vlog is sensitive and heartfelt enough, she might not feel too creeped-on.
17. Which brings us to the big action finish. Working in tandem with someone still back on Alex’s phone (idgaf, pick someone at random. It can be Hi-5 if you really want. I guess.), Gene co-ordinates a series of brief messages between the phones to get both Alex and Addie out of their houses and walking around outside. Jailbreak hacks into the traffic light system (yeah, this is starting to pop up even in small towns now, they can change the length of a green light with two mouse clicks at a price tag of $15,000 per intersection or something) and actually manipulates the traffic in the real world to herd the lovebirds towards each other, all while robo-meanies chase them through Addie’s phone, up through the Cloud, and back to Alex’s phone in a big production that has all the emojis on Addie’s phone banding together to aid the success of their mission, as well as their subsequent escape.
18. Alex and Addie find themselves standing on the same street corner with nothing to do but have a conversation, which they somehow manage. Addie suggests maybe Alex and his folks can come up to the cottage for a visit. (I’m sure her parents will love that. Invite some more strangers while you’re at it, honey! We’ll have a luau! But anyway.) It’s not everlasting love, but it’s a start, and that’s all we’re really looking for here.
19. Back home again, Gene is proud that even a “Meh” like him can help fan the flames of a budding new romance (wait, buds don’t flame....) and learned that human speech is far more powerful at conveying emotion than he was led to believe by his peers. Jailbreak is proud to be her own definition of a “princess,” having demonstrated courage, valor, and encyclopedic knowledge of several programming languages. Smiler keeps on smiling, even though she’s seething with twelve kinds of rage, which she won’t be able to act on because...heck, I dunno, maybe the robots didn’t make it out of the Cloud. RIP robots.
20. No dance party at the end. Just.......just no.
And that’s how I would fix “The Emoji Movie.”
7 notes
·
View notes