#anyways.....ill never stop thinking about this movie

[merry-death]

Ok I have so many thoughts about The Substance and your post is a good jumping off point.

You mentioned the alienation and isolation Elizabeth experiences, and that feeling of loneliness in the movie is what really makes it hit for me and I don't see many people talking about it. Gonna put this under a cut because I have more to say than I thought lol

A lot of people have mentioned all of the references to The Shining, but I haven't seen many people talk about what that means for the themes of the movie.

For anyone who hasn't seen The Shining (how? Go do that), the basic plot is a man named Jack takes his family to be winter caretakers of this hotel that gets completely snowed in and impossible to get to (or leave) so he can work on his writing. Over the winter, he talks to the ghosts there, learns more details about the gruesome history of the hotel's past, and eventually loses his mind and tries to kill his son Danny and his wife Wendy (or he was crazy from the beginning and hallucinated the ghosts too, or several other theories about what's really happening). I'm not going to get into all the interpretations of The Shining or even do too much to digging into the details of how you could interpret The Substance's specific references to The Shining. This is mostly vibes-based from what I remember of The Shining and how I felt seeing references to it in The Substance.

The first reference is the hallway of the studio has carpet extremely reminiscent of the carpet in the maze-like hallways of the Overlook Hotel where Danny gets lost and encounters ghosts. To me, this immediately made me think the studio was trapping Elizabeth. However, this hallway isn't a maze; it's a perfectly straight hall with posters of Elizabeth all over, so to me that means she's less of a victim like Danny, and actually is somewhat responsible for the studio being like it is, just as Jack is pictured as the original murderer at the Overlook.

And in the scene in the bathroom where she overhears that she's being let go for being old, the bathroom really reminds me of the one in the Overlook where Jack learns the details of the past murder and the dangers to him and his family, but he stays and that cements that he's going to repeat the cycle. Elizabeth is just like Jack to me. She's not solely responsible for the studio being the destructive trap that it is, but she is the current "caretaker" keeping it that way. And that bathroom scene is where she finds out how dangerous it is, but she still wants to be there.

The references to The Shining really emphasize both Elizabeth's isolation and her complicity in the system that isolates her (to me, I'd LOVE to hear other people's takes).

There's more non-Shining related things that also add to the loneliness and Elizabeth's responsibility for it that I want to talk about.

There's one scene where I think she's on the phone with the Substance person and in the background, there's a maid. This is the only time we see someone in her apartment that isn't there for sex. The maid has no line, and Elizabeth doesn't even acknowledge her presence. We never see the maid again, but Elizabeth/Sue's apartment is always cleaned up even when we don't see the cleaning happen. This maid is a part of Elizabeth's life, taking care of her living space and apparently someone she trusts enough to not watch her do her work and to call the Substance number while she's within earshot. And yet...we don't know anything about her or how much she knows about what's going on. Surely her maid would know something's up, right? But we don't see Elizabeth or Sue tell her anything, even though she must still come by to clean.

In fact, I don't think we ever see Elizabeth or Sue talk to a single woman other than a few words to the other dancers. Her whole life is dedicated to earning men's attention, and she built that life and has trapped herself there. The only chance Elizabeth sees for happiness as herself is on a date with Fred, a man she barely knows and who still seems to only value her for her appearance ("you're still the most beautiful girl in the world"). Like yeah, he's definitely not as scummy as the other men around her, and maybe he would even value her as a person, but he's still primarily a romantic/sexual interest. And that's why she misses the date, because she no longer sees herself as a worthy sexual being and also can't see herself as anything else, as having any other value. She built a life where she is the only woman and the ideal woman, and she lost the ability to just be a person. And yes, she's eventually discarded as no longer the ideal woman in the patriarchal system she's a part of, but that's because she actively took part in it for decades, telling other women they should do her workouts and be just like her while refusing to actually interact with other women, and only building relationships based on her status as a sex object rather than as a whole person.

Sorry for the rambling, I still have so many thoughts but I've already derailed from my original points about The Shining and isolation so I'll wrap it up here

The Substance

short version: five out of five stars, I had so much fun, for God's sake read the CWs. there are so many needles in this.

further thoughts: I think the viciousness of this movie rests on Elisabeth (Demi Moore) having built her career on promoting the very same unattainable beauty standards that she finds herself in conflict with. It's no coincidence that she's not just an actress, she's a celebrity fitness instructor. Going on TV every morning to tell us all that our bodies aren't good enough. She threw her lot in whole-heartedly with the beauty merchants, she preened and profited, and then she was shocked -- shocked! -- when they inevitably, predictably turned on her.

It's also telling that once she's injected the titular Substance and generated a new, young, beautiful version of herself, what does she do? She goes right back to the same business as before. Being sexier, fitter, more desirable than anyone else. Telling everyone their bodies still aren't good enough. Well, why not? Even her own body wasn't good enough for her anymore.

Coralie Fargeat has zero fucking sympathy for her and I feel the same. Oh, is it hard now? Is it alienating and dehumanizing and humiliating? Did you never bother developing yourself as a person because you were too busy peddling feminine oppression for Dennis Quaid, of all people? Fuck you! Suffer harder! You are complicit!

I would love to know how this lands for conventionally attractive women -- I never put in a sustained effort of this kind because it was made quite clear to me from a young age that the "right" kind of beauty would not be available to me. That comes with its own pain and its own fantasies about a "perfect" version of myself, but I suspect it's a different set.

I also wonder what trans women think of it, because while it's a very cis woman story (in that Elisabeth has always been a conventionally attractive girl and woman) it's also like... about transforming into a more desirable version of yourself, which, come on.

Finally, I feel like there's some disability commentary to be had in here, though that's not a subject I'm well versed in. I did find myself thinking, from time to time, that to many people it would be very tempting to have a body with no pain, a body that always moved easily and performed all its functions with no trouble. Even if only sometimes.

[caramellody]

Yall i dont think im gonna be able to stop thinking about usha and g13, actually.

Ushas an old old woman, clueless with tech. Lived long enough to develop various bonds with a LOT of people and relies on them a lot for help. In turn, shes VERY loyal to her close conpanions (a great example would be how she tends to back paula up a LOT, the way she sets up russel and paula to 'fake date' wink and all). She's very warm and very emotionally intelligent even if she's a bit clueless sometimes. Her logic is borderline incomprehensible, but it has heart.

G13 on the other hand, is a hacking prodigy. Hes young, hes sought after for his skills for better and for worse. But in turn, he's essentially lost himself in the process. He may be able to scrape nuke codes, but he'll never make a friend. He lacks any loyalty for anyone and anything except for himself and his interests, and if they dont satisfy those two points, then its worth nothing to him. His logic may be sound, but its cold.

[yourlocalsewerdragon]

being a freshman in highschool is so crazy

[gracieheartspedro]

Your Needs, My Needs

THE PRELUDE

a masterlist of how you can help gaza

pairing: cowboy!joel x f!reader (no outbreak)

description: you have made it to your new home in taylor, texas. your anxiety of owning your our home and being alone is coming to a head, but you need to be productive. a trip to the local furniture turns into you meeting some locals and your new cowboy neighbor.

word count: 3.7k words

warnings: there is no smut in this part. still MINORS DNI! no use of y/n! vague talk of reader's old life before texas, no real description of the reader, description of small age gap, joel being a sarcastic shithead. sarah is canon, so joel is a dad. distracted driving. talks of consuming food. reader has mental illness, mainly described as anxiety, but could be other illnesses. I make it pretty vague. the reader likes football? lmfao

author's note: this is the prelude to the many parts I have planned for these two. this is sort of just setting up everything. I want a slow burn for these two, so hopefully these first couple parts make you guys sweat with anticipation. I also wanna quickly thank all of you for the love on the preview of this fic. I hope you all enjoy it! let me know what y'all think. YEEHAW!

“Sign here and she’s all yours.”

When you brought the pen to the dotted line, you knew that this was going to be the start of your new life. 

While you were nervous about taking on such a huge project, you were ready to find solace in your alone time and work on yourself along with the beautiful farmhouse. You needed some peace and quiet, anyway. 

She was set on 20 acres of land on the outskirts of a small town called Taylor. The land looked like something out of a movie, it’s rolling hills and sprawling fields. 

The house was about 130 years old and needed a lot of TLC. You found it online after hours of scrolling. It was still liveable, but the older couple who owned it before moved to a retirement community and could not keep up with the maintenance. When the inheritance hit your bank account, you called the local realtor and told them you would be flying out there to check it out. When the car pulled up the long driveway, you knew that it would be yours. 

Texas was a new start for you. And boy, were you ready for it. 

You did not have a lot to move in, just a small UHaul full of boxes of clothes and miscellaneous trinkets. You left your furniture in your shared apartment in New York. You needed to find something that was more your style, anyway. 

You moved everything yourself. You were not sure you were ready to trust anyone to help you move in. You knew no one locally, anyway.

It took about three days to get settled, and by that, you simply put up a shower curtain and finally put sheets on your mattress on the floor. You had also created a laundry list of random things you wanted to get done around the house in the next month. Priority number one was getting the bathrooms working. The toilet downstairs doesn’t stop running and your upstairs one won’t flush at all. 

You decided that today was the day you would go out and buy some furniture for your living room and bedroom. You would also inquire to some locals about a plumber. It would take you days to work up the courage to reach out to someone in the phone book, so here’s to hoping you just run into someone on the street. 

You hop into the sedan that you were renting until you could buy a car. It was nice but it was no match for your long dirt driveway. You already expected to pay extra for all the dings on the exterior. 

The roads that lead into Main Street are long and winding. You loved driving, so when it was nice enough to put the windows down, you did so. 

Since there’s no one on this specific stretch, you decide to switch the CD you had shoved into the disc drive, opting for another mix you had made years ago. The radio never played what you wanted, especially the local stations in Taylor. 

In your distracted scramble for the CD, you don’t take note of the large stallion running next to your car. The CD is wedged between the seat and the main console and your fingers cannot reach the awkward position. 

You’re not speeding. But when a giant horse runs out in front of you, you can not hit the break quickly enough. You stop breathing, bracing for impact. You jerk the wheel slightly, swerving away from the steed.  Before your front end can make an impact, the horse is snatched back towards the divot in the road. 

You are in complete and utter shock over how abruptly it all happened. 

Your eye eventually catches a man on horseback, his cowboy hat shields most of his face, but you are more focused on how built this man looks. His biceps were straining against his button-up shirt as he held the lasso taut against his chest. His legs were locked around the brown stallion he was on, his jeans riddled with mud and dust. He had dark curls that peaked out from under his hat.

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ,” You yell, your car slowly inching forward from its spot in the middle of the road, “Where did that thing even come from?”

The mysterious cowboy just shakes his head and trots away, clicking his tongue to guide the horse back into the field. 

Your heart felt like it may leap out of your chest. A car was chugging down the road ahead of you, so you knew you had to move out of the way. You turn into your lane and slowly start down the road again.

You do not even bother trying to find the CD, again. You would rather sit in complete silence. 

-

When you make it to the small stretch of downtown, your heart rate slows down. You spot a local furniture store that looks a bit dated. It was your best bet plus, you wanted to stand on solid ground and gain your bearings. 

You parallel park rather terribly and hop out of your car. You huff loudly, throwing your purse over your shoulder and slamming the door behind you. 

A hot cowboy saved your life. 

It’s the most Texas thing that’s happened to you since you moved here. 

You head inside the storefront. A smaller white-haired lady sits at the front desk, her head in a gossip magazine. 

“Well, hello there,” You muster in your best cheery voice, trying to act like you did not almost die, “I’m lookin’ for some furniture.”

She chuckles as she places her reading next to the register, “Well, you came to the right place, sweetheart.”

You return the laugh, glancing around the large store. Couches and recliners in rows in the front, wooden bed sets lining the back wall. You were so indecisive, you were not completely sure where to start. 

“I need a bedroom set and a couch or two. I just moved into th-”

“The old Caldwell farmhouse,” She cuts you off, hopping off her stool, “Saw you movin’ in a couple days ago. My boy is your neighbor.”

The joke about small towns is always true, you know that already. Everyone knows everyone else’s business. You could not shit without someone knowing about it. 

You raise your eyebrows, acting like you’re shocked she knows about you already. “Yes, that’s right. Your boy?”

“My oldest son, Joel. He lives across the way from ya,” She starts gesturing towards the couches, “Pop a squat on one and see which one ya like.”

You end up sitting on every couch before landing on a brown leather one with a matching loveseat. The old woman is a great saleswoman on top of being sickly sweet. She told you since you are one of her first customers of the month, she would give you a great discount on a coffee table. You were a sucker for a good deal. 

You knew what bed set you wanted immediately. It was a light-washed wood with tall pillars sticking out of every corner. It came with two matching dressers and one nightstand. It was only you, so you didn’t quite care about another side table anyway. 

When the lady starts tallying up your total, you watch the slow-moving downtown. A couple walking across the street into the small diner. An older gentleman walking his small dog. The rickety old trucks that loudly took up the roads. 

You’re so stuck in your head, you don’t even hear what your total is. All you do is hand over your credit card. She smiles and giggles as she swipes the card. 

“So I’ll have my boy deliver it to you tomorrow. He is busy workin’ today, but I’ll have him get it to you. He’s quite the handyman, always busy doing jobs around town. Will you be home in the morning?”

You would have to have some strange man in your home to set up the heavy wooden furniture. It made the hairs on your arm stand up. You knew you would not be able to haul it all, so you had to take the leap of faith and hope and pray this frail old lady’s son is not a serial killer. Or stalker. Or both. 

You needed your furniture, after all. 

It will be okay, you tell yourself. 

“U-uh, I will,” You swallow, “I don’t work right now, so I’ll be home all day.”

“Oh, goody! I will send him your way in the morning. He may have his brother with him just to get the bed up your stairs, but I promise they are good boys. If they aren’t, you come to me and their mama will deal with them.”

You laugh nervously, “Of course, thank you so much.”

–

You had woken up late, your anxiety creeping up on you last night. Your brain would not stop racing. You didn’t fall asleep until 2 am. You hop out of bed around 10:30 and wrap yourself in a cardigan. You have been leaving all the windows open at night, but you can tell the seasons are shifting because it gets so cold at night. 

The doorbell rings and it’s like your heart falls out of your chest. You know that after you open this door, you’re welcoming in someone completely new and unexpected and it makes your whole body jitter. You make your way to the front door and take a deep breath before opening it. 

Of course. It’s him. The hot cowboy. 

It made sense. The endless green across from your home had to be part of his property. The road you almost died on yesterday was right beside his land. His house was tucked right across from the end of your driveway, with countless barns spread across a couple of acres.

You were secretly hoping he would be some silly-looking hillbilly, but instead, you find out your delivery man is the ridiculously attractive cowboy from the day before. His hair is tidy and dark without the cowboy hat on. It’s peppered with some white hairs, but it only adds to his appearance. His flannel has the top three buttons undone and his jeans are stained with age. You are finally able to get a good look at his face with no shadows covering his permanent scowl. 

He had to be about 10 years older than you. You were not too far off from wrinkles, but you were still young enough to bear children without being considered geriatric. 

He squints at you when you swing the door open. The sun is hitting his eyes, highlighting the warm rich brown color. 

“Howdy neighbor,” He greets, a small smirk plays on his lips, “’m Joel. Nice to meet you officially.”

You introduce yourself, trying not to stutter as you say your name. He made you nervous. You chalk it up to just being nervous around men in general. But it’s the way his eyes trailed you as you moved just slightly.

You feel the need to clear the air because of the way he’s staring through you. 

“And uh, listen, about yesterday,” You try to apologize, but he cuts you off by raising his hand. 

“Wouldn’t be the first time an outsider got themselves hurt bein’ reckless down the backroads. Just glad you didn’t hit my horse.”

The response has a bit of a bite to it. You back up a step, your body also taken aback by his directness. You are used to confrontational people, but you’re not used to Southern folk being that way. 

“No, next time I’ll aim for the ditch and tell my insurance that there was a silly cowboy in the road that I had to miss.”

You can tell by the sheepish smile on his face that he was not expecting you to be feisty.

“Don’t think they’d give ya’ much money for that,” He says in a hushed but matter-of-fact tone.

You relax your shoulders, trying to collect yourself. “Probably not.” 

He turns back to his truck that has your bed frame in the back of it, disregarding the previous statements. “My brother is comin’ by in a few to help me get this stuff in.”

“Well, let’s not let all the air out of the house right now,” You extend the door wider for him. You are giving this man full access to your home now. You try to suppress your obsessive thoughts and instead decide that you know exactly what you can have him do while you wait. You remember his mom told you he was good with his hands, and since he wants to be snarky to you in the comfort of your own home, you would try to pick his mind about some of your home projects. “Come in, let me ask you something.” 

You begin, gesturing him into the entryway. He accepts the offer, kicking his boots off on the porch. You appreciate his thoughtfulness and for a second, you realize you may be the asshole. 

“Mama told you I was a handyman, didn’t she?”

You giggle, finding it funny that he could read the situation you were about to put him in. “She sure did.”

“She needs to stop tellin’ folks that,” His accent is so thick and syrupy, that it makes your insides tingle, “Got too many people askin’ me to fix their stuff.”

You guide him to the bathroom right off the living room and kitchen, “You know much about plumbing?”

“I’m assumin’ you don’t,” He mutters, “What do you have goin’ on?”

You point to the loudly running toilet, “This thing won’t stop running no matter what I do.”

“Well, what have you tried doin’?”

You both stand in the hallway, you looking up at him with furrowed brows, him looking down at you with anticipation. He was quick-witted, and you started to hate how much you liked it. He gave your sassiness a run for it’s money.

“I’ve flushed it a bunch of times. Cursed at it and kicked it,” He stares at you blankly. It makes your stomach roll, “Jesus, Cowboy, can you give a girl a break?”

He enters the narrow bathroom, approaching the toilet like there may be a bomb in it. He reaches towards the handle and jiggles it violently, which makes you giggle a bit. That’s exactly what you did. 

“So, why here?” He questions, squatting in front of the bowl. He continues to mess with the handle while you process his no-context question.

“What Texas or this bathroom?”

He chuckles, his smile spreading across his beautifully tanned skin. 

“You got tons of jokes, huh?” 

You don’t respond, just shrug your shoulders. He stands up, wiggling the top of the tank off the toilet. You watch his hands lock onto the sides of it, ensuring it will not drop off and shatter on the dated tile. 

“Texas,” He strains, freeing his left hand to mess with the handle. You lean against the door frame. 

You are not even sure why Texas. You just needed to get as far as you could away from New York. You did not want your past to catch up with you, and you did not want to get stuck in a city again. But you could not share all this with a random stranger. He may be in your house, looking at your commode, but you can’t completely trust him yet. 

“I just wanted a change of scenery. I always wanted a farmhouse.”

“Lots of upkeep,” He jabs, doing one more once over of the tank, “‘M thinking you may need a new float or chain. I can get my tools tomorrow and come over to fix it. May need to order a new part, though.”

You push off the wall, arms still crossed over your front. He puts the top back on and finally makes eye contact with you. 

He would come over again? To fix your toilet? 

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, ‘m sure it’s the chain or float.”

“No, I m-mean,” You start to stumble over your words. You swallow, collecting yourself for a moment so you do not look crazy to him. “Are you sure you’re okay coming back over?”

He gives you a thin-lipped smile, “What are neighbors for?”

-

His brother arrives in a rickety old truck at about 15 past 11. He looks a lot like him, but shorter. He has those same eyes though, permanently tired. 

“Nice to meet ya, ma’am. ‘M Tommy.”

You grab his hand to shake it and he lingers a bit longer than you anticipated. Joel stayed on your front porch, putting his boots back on to start unloading the furniture. 

You are thankful the weather was kind today, especially since every evening this week has been stormy. The sun was beating mighty hard on the men as they collaborated on getting your furniture inside.

While they get everything set up, you busy yourself making lunch. You get the bright idea to make them each a sandwich. It’s the least you could do. 

You pile the cold-cut turkey and cheese onto the white bread you had, topping it with some mayo. When you hear their footsteps trailing down the stairs, you race out with the sandwiches on a porcelain plate.

“For your troubles,” You say before standing in their path to the door. Tommy smiles brightly, instantly snatching a sandwich from the plate. 

“Thanks, darlin’,” He takes a big bite, humming in satisfaction. He walks around you, leaving you standing in front of Joel. His eyes are piercing, his lips ajar a bit, but nothing is coming out. 

“Turkey and cheese, I promise.”

He reaches out grabbing the sandwich from you, “No sweet tea to go with it?”

Your heart sinks, instantly becoming self-conscious of your decision to be nice to these hicks. He was so intimidating with his steely expressions and broad shoulders. There was an essence about him that did not speak to his stone-cold exterior. It was more gentle. But you could only see hints of it when he smiled. 

He can tell the wheels in your head are spinning. Before you can speak, takes a bite of the sandwich and shakes his head. 

“‘m kidding, Yankee. Thank you, I ‘preciate it.”

You settle for letting out a long sigh and returning to your kitchen. You spend a couple of minutes, putting back all the ingredients in their proper places. 

You hear Tommy yell for Joel, his voice kind of panicked. You race out the front door and see Tommy balancing your coffee table off the side of the truck. Joel is running to his aid, the dust from your driveway kicking up behind him. You hold your breath watching Joel help him balance the wooden piece of furniture. 

“Can’t have you breakin’ your back before homecoming,” Joel fusses, guiding the legs of the table to the ground, “You know damn well Maria would have me, too.”

“Yeah, what’s a homecoming game without the head coach?”

You perk up, instantly becoming interested in the conversation that you weren’t supposed to be listening in on. The two men lift the table and start heading your way, right on the threshold. 

“You coach football?” You ask Tommy, trying not to show your excitement. You loved football, it reminded you of Sundays with your grandfather. You never got the privilege to go to an actual game, even in high school. 

“Yes, ma’am, for the local high school in Taylor. We are gonna make it to the state championships this year.” 

You glance at Joel when he says it. He rolls his eyes, “Gotta win at least one game to do that, Tommy.”

They place the coffee table right in front of your new leather couch. Tommy grunts, trying not to argue with his brother in front of a strange lady. 

He can’t help himself, though. He instantly snaps back at Joel.

“You know them boys have been practicin’ day in and day out. Why ya gotta be so negative?”

Joel places his hands on his hips, “Cause Sarah told me the guys in her grade are a bunch of dummies. I highly doubt they are ready to kick Georgetown’s asses.”

Tommy starts towards the door, “Just cause Sarah says it, doesn’t mean it’s true.”

“I believe my honor student daughter before I believe my dumbass little brother.”

You are not shocked Joel has a daughter. You are just shocked that she’s in high school. He looked too young to have a teen, but then again, he did have some grays sprouting. You cross your arms over your chest, watching Joel scoot the table across your hardwoods. 

You’re staring at his hands, trying to conjure up a wedding ring on his left finger. But there’s nothing. Maybe he did not wear it when he was working. Maybe he just forgot to put it on this morning. Maybe his passive aggressiveness towards you was simply to ensure there was distance between you and him, giving you subtle hints that he was taken. 

He finally glances up at you, stopping in his tracks when he notes your gaze. 

“Somethin’ wrong?”

You have no clue what to say because you are so trapped in your head about him. He’s a stranger, god damn it.

“N-no, everything is okay.”

“Don’t look it.”

“I just was not expecting the coffee table to look so dark against the hardwood,” you lie, pulling whatever you could think of out of your hat, “Doesn’t it look dark?”

Joel looks between the floor and the table, shifting in his stance, “Don’t know bout that.” 

“O-oh okay.”

“Alright, well we got ya all set up now,” He starts to head towards the entryway. You trail behind him like a lost puppy, “I’ll be by sometime tomorrow with that part for the toilet. I’m expectin’ another sandwich for that one.”

You grab your front door as you wave to Tommy as he heads for his truck. He smiles and gives you a head nod. Joel turns back to you, his ears perked up for a sarcastic jab from you.

  You think back to something he said to you earlier. You crack a smile, “What are neighbors for?”

PART 1 COMING SOON!

taglist (ppl who asked to be tagged): @joeldjarin @taylorsmakingfuckingmacandcheese @mysaviorjoelmiller @brittmb115 @missladym1981 @jasminedragoon

[lets-try-some-writing]

Do you think if any of the Tfp bots have seen any human deaths? Like any sorta of a death, old age, illness, infected injuries or sometimes people just die unexpectedly. It’s most likely any of the soldiers that work around any of the bases. if a human were to die more violently like bot human and ‘con fight happened and they didn’t know such a small creature could bleed so much.

I do imagine they have. It's likely not something they are fond of talking about, but civilian casualties had to have happened at some point after their initial arrival. Strength differences and all that.

Optimus, while attempting to save a car and its passengers before they went hurtling off a cliff edge, ended up grabbing the vehicle just a bit too hard. He overestimated the strength of human steel and the humans he was attempting to save from certain death died anyway. All Optimus could do was push the wreckage down the cliff anyway to make it look as if nothing had happened on his end and go back to base with servos coated in red.

He learned a grim lesson that day, and Optimus never again used all his strength for anything on earth again, save for combat with Megatron.

Ratchet was mistaken as a proper ambulance at one point, and an emergency at the roadside had him pulling over to transport a crash victim to the hospital. He had his holoform in the drivers seat and he instructed the bystander who volunteered to help, but the effort was in vain. The unfortunate victim passed away halfway to the hospital from blunt force trauma to the head. Ratchet thought he had more time since the organics he was familiar with generally had a higher constitution. The loss did not bother him too much after a while, but it was a bit of a wake up call after he dropped off the body and the bystander before speeding away.

He put a little more effort in understanding humanity after that. If only to stop needless death.

Arcee was neither involved with or the cause of any human deaths, but while the team were still integrating on Earth, she watched a marine get hit with a rogue piece of shrapnel and quite literally explode, at least in some areas. It didn't register for her at first, but the moment the humans started flocking and panicking, Arcee knew what blood was and just how... unfortunate the innards of a human are. She learned just how fragile humanity is, and while did not shake her, it was enlightening and she offered her condolences later.

Bulkhead has never actually witnessed a human death in person, largely because he was already a naturally cautious mech when it came to his strength, so there were no accidents. However, the first time Bulkhead saw a human die in a movie, he may or may not have gotten emotional over it. A simple scene with an old man bidding his family one final farewell had Bulkhead reconsidering the functional immortality of his species for a while. Then he watched Marlie & Me-

Bumblebee witnessed his first ever human death in a similar manner to Optimus. He was out racing illegally and trying to make up for the loneliness of being part of such a small team by filling the void with a competition. But one human got a bit too excited during the race, and a few bad decisions later, one of the racers rammed directly into Bumblebee, sending them both spinning. Bumblebee was disoriented but otherwise unharmed when he transformed. But looking at the wreck? The other guy was anything but that. Bumblebee didn't need to look hard to know that the red smear on the inside of the care was about all that was left of his competition.

He stopped racing after that.

Smokescreen, Wheeljack, and Ultra Magnus have yet to witness any human deaths up close and personal. They have seen movies, but not any real expirations. Ultra Magnus doesn't care to. Smokescreen is afraid to see what happens when a fleshy dies, especially after the Darkmount incident and Optimus's near death. Wheeljack, surprisingly, has witnessing such a thing on his bingo card. He's not looking forward to it, but it's bound to happen and he wants an excuse to get a drink.

[jinjeriffic]

DCxDP Prophecy Universe Part 6

Part 5

Most of the time, being the son of Batman was a point of pride for Damian. Today, it was an exercise in frustration. Not only had Father deemed him too emotionally compromised to participate in the investigation of his so-called brother. Not only was he benched from patrol until Batman returned from abroad. He also had to continue attending school as if nothing had happened! He could probably teach most of the classes better than the adults! Oh, but ‘socializing with his peers’ was deemed too important to miss out on.

No wonder Damian was in a foul mood when he returned home. It had been the last school day before fall break, and a week ago he had been looking forward to the opportunity to patrol without having to worry about getting up early in the morning. Then that damned apparition had dropped the bombshell that had upended all of Damian’s carefully laid plans. Now half of the family was off chasing leads and he was stuck at home cooling his heels. It wasn’t fair!

After doing his customary check on his pets, he had changed into training gear as soon as possible and was now in the process of running through the latest combat program Father had designed. The flow of dodge-weave-counter-strike was helping him vent his frustration and clear his head. And if the training bots ended up more damaged than usual, well that just served Father right. He wasn’t some hapless child to be grounded!

Spin. Strike. Jump. Slash. He was moving on instinct, letting his training take over. A symphony of violence the background track to his churning thoughts, the questions that had been plaguing him all week.

Brother of blood. What did that mean? A full brother? A half brother? The result of some ill-advised dalliance of his Father? Unlikely. The letter had been addressed to Damian Al Ghul, not Damian Wayne. A deliberate choice of words, most likely. A child of his Mother then. He couldn’t imagine Mother would sully herself with another man’s touch. Even after everything, she still loved Father in her own twisted way. Unless Grandfather had ordered her… Stop it!

Stab. Crouch. Roll. Slice.

Never buried but already mourned. Not a lab grown creation then, to be discarded casually. Mourning meant caring. Love. Did Father know something? The haunted look that had appeared in his eyes spoke of old grief. The same grief that still plagued him when memories of Todd or Damian’s death were close to the surface. But he had never spoken of another child. Would he even bother to tell them?

Strike. Throw. Close distance. Disarm.

Lightning and ice. Defibrillation? Some horror movie style reanimation? Cryofreeze? The entity had meta abilities, could it harness lightning and ice as well? A better son, a more powerful Demon’s Heir… No!

Side-step. Kick. Twist. Leg-sweep.

Strike down the Demon’s Head. Did that mean Grandfather? Or Damian himself if the old man died first? It would be just like Grandfather to arrange for Damian to be killed and replaced by a brother. To get revenge for Damian choosing Batman’s legacy over the League’s while hurting their family in the most intimate way possible. Killed by a brother he should have loved, who should have loved him… Fool!

Damian stopped as the gong sounded to mark the end of the program. Around him, the training bots returned to their starting positions, now significantly worse for wear. A few of them were disabled to the point of uselessness.

Damian sheathed his weapons and forced his breathing to slow as he started his cool down stretches. It wouldn’t do to be careless because of some emotional episode. He was more disciplined than that.

What could Death earn anyway? Death brought nothing but nightmares and pain and torment.

Damian shivered. He didn’t like thinking about his Death.

Shoving the memories firmly aside, he returned his training weapons to their respective places before heading over to the Batcomputer. He needed a distraction. Maybe he should call up Jon and see if he had any plans for fall break. Since Damian was benched he would need something constructive to do with his time. Surely with the two of them working together they would find some kind of criminal enterprise to topple in a Kansas cornfield.

Damian compiled the search strings for any unusual activity in the area and set it to run. Now it was a waiting game to see if anything of note turned up. Leaning back, he idly kicked the console, sending his chair into a lazy spin. If nothing turned up in Kansas, maybe he would widen his search to the surrounding states. If they flew Air Superboy, distance would hardly be an issue. Hell, if Jon was busy maybe he could go visit Richard. Bludhaven was never lacking in crime, and Father wouldn’t be able to complain about a lack of appropriate supervision during patrol. With Drake and Todd having left on a ‘roadtrip’ for at least a day…

Damian stopped his spinning and frowned. Now that he thought about it, it was highly unusual for his two older brothers to have left Gotham together and in their civilian identities. Especially with the Bats already shorthanded due to Father’s absence and Robin’s benching. He had been too distracted by the upcoming school day to make the connection when his brothers had mentioned their plans at breakfast that morning. And Drake had been investigating League activity… Damian’s fingers flew across the keyboard, bypassing Drake’s security protocols with ease. If his brother had uncovered a League connection he had a right to know!

What he found among Drake’s recent search history was not what he expected. Some crackpot scientists from Illinois? That’s what had drawn his attention? Certainly, the older Robin had flagged some suspicious transactions and marked the Fentons as potential threats based on their inventions, but there were heroes closer to Amity Park that they could have foisted the investigation off on.

Damian drummed his fingers against his armrest. Something wasn’t adding up here. Pulling up everything he could find about the Fenton parents, he started looking through medical records, school records, articles… Suddenly, Damian’s heart slammed against his ribs. There, on the cover of a two year old magazine, was the face that had haunted him all week. With trembling fingers, he zoomed in on the image. It only took a few minutes to alter the hair and eye colour. It was unmistakably him. The boy who bore an uncanny resemblance to Damian himself, if slightly older and paler.

Swallowing hard, Damian scrolled through the magazine’s online archive to find the article mentioned on the title page. An almost extinct gorilla species. A chance discovery by then fourteen year old Daniel Fenton.

“Daniel,” Damian rolled the name around his mouth. A fairly common Western name. “Daniel. Danyal?” If he was Talia’s son, surely she would have used the Arabic version… no! He was jumping to conclusions!

Now having a name to go on, Damian dug deeper than Drake had bothered to. The birth certificate named a small town in Utah, but there were no records of a hospital admission. A home birth? There were no records of the Fentons having a residence in that state. No medical records of prenatal care either, though there were for the birth of the older sibling. Had the pregnancy gone unnoticed? Possible, if unlikely. There had been a vehicle registration for a motorhome during that time period though. Had the Fentons been living on the road when their son was born? Or had they acquired the child some other way? If he was an Al Ghul who would have spirited him away to the USA?

The Fentons had settled down in Amity Park about six months after Daniel’s birth, purchasing the residence they apparently used to this day. From there, his records were fairly standard and unremarkable, though there were a higher than average number of doctor’s visits for minor household accidents. Not enough to get flagged by CPS, but certainly worrying if potential mad science was involved. Daniel’s school records showed average grades, with higher scores in Maths and Science. At age fourteen however, his academic performance took a sharp dip, with an uneven performance on tests and numerous unexcused absences. His teachers noted frequent inattentiveness in class or Daniel outright falling asleep. Someone had submitted reports of bullying and suspicious bruises, but the case was dropped and never followed up on. His grades had evened out since then, but the unexcused absences persisted.

Damian knew enough about the trials and tribulations of teenage superheroics to recognize a pattern. And it certainly looked like Daniel fit the bill. If he had acquired meta abilities two years ago it probably took some time to get a handle on them and find a balance between his legal and illegal activities.

Damian steepled his fingers together. There was only so much his digital investigation could reveal. It was time for some fieldwork.

Part 7

[transmasculinizing]

it frustrates me how some of the most iconic versions of batman are still by people who dont really care about the character and just like his aesthetic. snyder and nolan wanna empathize how cool and badass he is and thats fine but they try to make their movies way deeper than such surface level portrayals of batman should be. they like that hes dark and brooding but they dont go in depth on why hes like that. or they try to and fail. its not just about his parents dying its that he never healed from it. he didnt have the support system he needed to process his grief in a healthy way and was raised by an emotionally repressed ex military man who wouldnt let himself cross the line of employee and family. he learned not to show emotion outside anger. batmans stoicism isnt because hes badass, its a trauma response. the nolan movies treat batman not killing like its a moral superiority thing when thats not it at all. its what batman might occasionally tell himself it is but in reality its because if he starts he knows he wont be able to stop. he also has flaw of believing its like that for everyone but thats a whole other discussion. anyways not killing is in fact a mental block and its emotional because hes mentally ill. oh but we couldnt explore that because that would imply the guy were using for our toxic masculinity power fantasy is weak because he cant mentally handle something. its like.we want to hurt batman but we dont want him to feel anything about it other than maybe anger to show how tough and hypermasculine he is. this also correlates in why the live action batman movies dont want robin. they dont want batman to be a dad because thats not cool i guess. if you cant think of your batman comforting a crying child you didnt write batman though. i swear this obsession with not acknowledging that just because batman is bad at showing his emotions besides anger doesnt mean he doesnt have them has bled into the comics to. batman was literally a good dad to jason pre crisis but can you imagine nolans batman being a good dad? i cant personally. hes a man child. so now comics batman was shitty to jason when he was robin in order for batman to feel despair he needs to first feel love. his parents werent the only thing he loved. he loves his city, his friends, justice and doing whats right, his 2 major love interest and he absolutely loves his family im not saying all batman media needs to be a deep deconstruction of his psyche but if youre gonna focus on batman being 2 kool for emotions being badass rather than a result of his trauma dont pretend your movie is deeper than it actaually is

[mitch-the-silly]

hey!!!!

I’d like to request vox (I sense you like him a normal amount) x gn!reader headcanons where the reader is an overlord and is in charge of theatrical productions such as musicals, in which vox sees as ‘out of date’ and therefore detests the reader, but the reader is oblivious to this and is always seen trying to befriend him? I could see this as some good slow burn :)))

thanks a ton! 🎀

I DEFINATELY like him a normal amount :)

Anywho- Have to write for this guy more often and the second I saw this request, I knew I was gonna have so much fun writing this! Vox slow burn is literally my kingdom come-

ENOUGH SAID-

Vox x gn!thespianOverlord!reader

Cheery and old-timey, that’s how Vox viewed you. 

Truly, he only interacted with you because the musicals you produced for his films sold very well. But the world was begging and in need of more realistic movies and shows. Musicals just weren’t as interesting to him. So he always saw you as a luddite. Maybe not to the extent he saw Alastor that way. But your mannerisms and theatrics reminded him so much of his rival, so despite you having done nothing but benefitting favors for him, he kinda hated you on the lowkey. But who didn’t he hate at this point?

He at first found you extremely obnoxious. The way that, at times, people flocked to your theater productions instead of his movie premieres… 

Despite this, despite hating you so, you were always so kind to him. It baffled him truly, that you never caught the hint. 

The amount of time he’d rejected your invitation for coffee at your opera house should have already given the hint but you always figured he was busy (he was one of the most powerful overlords after all).

Every time a meeting was held, you spoke to him before and after the meeting. Always in such a friendly manner that made Vox smile awkwardly at you. He couldn’t outright tell you to stop talking to him, that would give off the wrong impression about him. So he would try his best to socialize with you without making you think you two were friends.

At times, you’d send him friendly gifts after collaborations. 

You’ve given him blue roses after writing a particularly famous movie musical that earned both you and him a huge amount of money. 

(He’d never admit it, but they made him feel special. He put them in a vase and kept them alive as long as possible.)

You definitely text him as if you two were friends. Which he always responds to very dryly, but you figure (again) that he’s probably too busy to put much thought to the text. Either way, you’re happy to hear back from him. 

He does ghost you on occasions, which you don’t take personally (much to his dismay).

You find yourself always speaking fondly of him and his image. Admiring him to some degree. The way he acts in front of everyone, you ought to ask him to try acting for a production! His skills impress you a lot. And you’ve told him before. Which, for a moment (and only for a moment), made Vox think you weren’t that bad.

Oh, what he hated the most… it had to be seeing your play advertisements plastered all over the city.

Hell, you would also go up to him and ask him if he could advertise your shows. 

You’d pay, so he couldn’t say no…

But the medium you expressed yourself with, oh how much he detested it!

Sometimes, out of courtesy (despite how much he detested you), he’d always accept the invitation to come to your Opera productions. Velvette liked to see the outfits the actors wore (and criticize them), and she always ended up dragging him along anyway. So he always ended up going when invited. 

This particular time, you were putting on a production of Phantom of the Opera. The actress who was supposed to play Christine/The Phantom got severely ill, and the understudy was killed in the recent extermination. So it was up to you to take matters into your own hands and save your production.

The second he saw you in that scene, his eyes shot open wide. He’d never seen you act before. Hell, you looked so good on that stage, that even Velvette’s heavy criticisms of the play’s costume wardrobe didn’t move him. 

And your voice! God… He’d wish someone that pretty/handsome would sing to him like that. Maybe it was the character you played and how they depicted them.

Matter of fact, he was paying attention to the plot this time. Unlike the other occasions. 

The fact that you were willing to jump in and play the part perfectly as if you’d been rehearsing it every day surprised him. You’d be perfect in one of his movies, he just KNEW IT!

After the production, you approached him. Speaking to him and thanking him for coming to see as you always did. 

The way he smiled at you was no longer full of false politeness. He now spoke much more freely with you. And it made you feel like you were finally important enough for him to have time for you! It was such a great feeling!

He didn’t want to admit how his perception of you had changed but let’s just say he began to plan more musicals. 

Velvette knew what was going on the second he stayed to talk to you a bit longer than usual. She made fun of him for DAYS.

He would begin to respond to your DMs with less dryness.

And he would accept your offers to drink coffee at the opera house (he’d deny them sometimes to not raise any suspicion on your side or from his fellow Vees). 

He would publicly deny any ties with you and would try his best to balance it out by telling Valentino just how “annoying” you were. 

Vox being the obsessive little man-child he is, would survey you. Or rather, jump in excitement the second you appear in the sight of one of his cameras. 

He’d set up a camera in your opera house just to see you directing rehearsals and even to see you practice.

He refuses to admit his feelings, but his fellow Vees are finding it hard to pretend they don’t know. Vox is… very obvious…

He begins sending you roses (yellow so he doesn’t make anyone think that he’s THAT obsessed with you).

He might start spiraling a bit when he sees any man approach you. But oh no, he had to keep himself together. You two were nothing, he didn’t like you! He only stayed close to you for convenience! …right?

Until he received another bouquet of blue roses signed off as “-Your Thespian Angel of Music”. 

Oh, he went nuts! He had to find the footage of you signing it off. And just as he suspected, you were bashfully smiling as you wrote the note.

He couldn’t! He simply couldn’t let this change his mind! But he didn’t have much time to think about the move you’d made, because you’d invited him for coffee soon after. 

Oh, he couldn’t keep himself together that time. Your smile, the warmth of your fireplace… it was all too much for him.

So it slipped out his mouth, he invited you to come over to his place and watch a movie. 

You gladly accepted and after agreeing to a date for this to happen, you two were set!

Of course, he planned for you two to watch a musical together. 

When you arrived at the V-tower, he was anxious to make sure that you were greeted properly. So he himself walked you to his area. 

Sideye from Velvette because she just knew that Vox inviting you was him admitting to them that he was definitely into you.

During the movie, he admits that he thinks you’re pretty cool and you take it as a huge compliment!

When you go home after the little date-not-date, he can’t get you off his mind! The way your eyes shone in the TV’s light, the way you paid careful attention to every scene. Oh, he was so stupidly in love with you.

So what did he do next? He spent his free minutes texting you. Sending you Envees (the hell version of TikTok) he thought you’d like and you sent him some back. 

He’d start advertising your stuff for free now! 

If it wasn’t already obvious to the Vees, now they knew he was head over heels for you.

Eventually, he got Velvette into thinking you weren’t that bad… Maybe she could put some more style into your shows.

After a few months of you talking to Vox and Velvette casually texting you, she was fed up with Vox’s obsessive giggling when he saw you in the cameras, so she told you. 

Yup. Velvette told you he liked you.

You were elated, to say the least. To be seen in a favorable light by such a powerful overlord was one thing. But to be the object of his adoration… Oh, you were more than happy.

So you set up another coffee date with Vox at your opera house.

To his surprise, you kissed him at the doorstep of your opera house.

It almost fried his circuit. The lights in your building flashed a bit and you could have sworn he was glitching in the middle of that kiss.

After which, your relationship was VERY MUCH PUBLIC.

Vox posted about your musicals almost every day.

He’s definitely the type to go to your practices and post you with a caption like “My Angel of Music”, “My Romeo/Juliet”, or “My Christine Canigula/Jeremy Here”. Something in reference to the lead or most adored role of the production you’re currently directing.

He’s corny as fuck in private-

He’d definately cuddle to watch whatever new musical you two just co-produced. 

He funds your shows and is kind of embarrassed to admit it, but he’d blow marvelous amounts of money on you if he could (he has to be smart about how he spends his money and the fact that he can’t just spoil you as much as he wants, destroys him).

He also hates to be caught accidentally humming along to your musicals. He claims to not care about those things at all (he knows the entirety of your repertoire by heart).

[allmylifemyseasons]

Goodnight and Go~ Choi Yeonjun

synopsis: Yeonjun hates parting at night or... peeks of y/n's and yeonjun's relationship underneath the night sky.

pairing: College student! Choi Yeonjun x afab! reader

song: Goodnight and Go - Imogen heap (lost the plot halfway through, but point is, they are DOWN BAD for each other, Yeonjun more, and they are sickly sweet which the song is too, so... a win is a win.)

warnings- none? not really a plot... just moments of the relationship... mostly fluff/comfort, CHEESINESS (SELF INDLUGING), yeonjun being head over heel for you, just sickly sweet im telling ya... mentions of sexual acts but none performed (not there yet sadly)

( AND PROBABLY BAD WRITING BUT WE FINISHED A STORY SO?????? I WIN), OH FORGOT TO SAY.... it's also unedited....

Word count: 4.8k (ha...)

A/N: Hello! this is my first work on here, and honestly its a bit of a mess, but I made a new years resolution that id start writing more and posting it, and I just spent a couple of hours writing non stop... Please give me constructive criticism, I need rejection therapy LMAO, no but really, I want to be good so bad...

Yeonjun rubs his hands together and blows his hot breath in between them, trying to defrost his frozen fingers, and it works but only for a bit. He watches that same air crystalize in front of him as he thinks of what else to say. You both stood by your door now, the front yard light was dim but shined brightly enough to see the blush across both of your faces. He was desperate for the night to continue, he wanted to hear you talk until the end of time, be around you until the sun came up, but he notices the shiver your body does everytime the wind blows. 

Yeonjun had seen you around before asking you on a date. It was one of those weird moments in cheesy rom coms, where you just wouldn't stop spawning everywhere he went. All throughout campus, you would appear, with the brightest smile he'd ever seen. You were always laughing, always smiling, always speaking with such enthusiasm in a conversation. When he finally put a voice to the smile, after sitting in the only chair left available in a class you shared, Yeonjun understood why those around you carried the same smile around, even after parting from you. Yeonjun had never felt as listened to as much as he did in the first conversation you had and the ones following it. He wondered just exactly how you did it, to make any person that spoke to you, the most important person in the world.You were addicting to be around, a source of comfort and laughter. When he finally got the courage to ask you out, a day before fall semester ended, he felt the clouds push back as you smiled softly, for the first time looking nervously everywhere else before saying yes, a twinkle shined in your eye, like a disney movie and he felt absolutely captivated from there on. 

“Um, anyways, thanks for dinner tonight,” You say looking directly up at him, your eyes shined with hope as if you were expecting something. You clear your throat before continuing, “and thanks for the jacket.” 

You begin to peel it off your shoulders: 

“Now, please put it on before your future cold gets worse,”

“Pfft, what cold? Ill be fine~”He smirks confidently, waving a dismissive hand as he bunches up his jacket to prove a point. 

“I can't wait to say I told you so.” you tease. 

“You wish, in fact I'm gonna be so fine, I'm hoping I can see you again? Maybe before the weekend ends? Friday? There's that new spiderman movie… ” Anything. He thinks to himself. He doesn't worry about looking too desperate, it truly doesn't bother him to show you that he wants you, bad, because he really does. 

“Hmm… okay let's make a deal. If you're feeling fine by this Friday, you get to pick the movie. If youre sick, I pick it…” A win-win. He smirks, “...after you get better…” His smile drops. 

“Ugh..” He rolls his eyes playfully before sticking his hand out, “...deal.” He makes a mental note to take vitamins before heading to bed. 

You shake his hand as a giggle falls from your lips. 

You're surrounded by an awkward silence again, you're no longer looking at him but literally anywhere else. He knows what you're waiting for, and honestly he wants it too. Your lips, that were tinted and glossed, had been distracting him all night, but he was nervous. Yeonjun had always been someone who moved fast, always quick to jump the rope. In the past, he would have walked right on in on the first date and would've stayed the night, and the relationships themselves would move quickly to the point that things would get messy and things were not fully thought through. He didn't want to do that with you, he didn't want to ruin this. But was a kiss considered slow? Fast? He didn't have enough time to mull it over. 

“Um, so yeah let me know…” You chuckle awkwardly, reaching back for the handle of the door. There's still hope in your eyes until he speaks up. 

“I will, thanks for coming out with me tonight, y/n” Yeonjun steps backwards, feeling regret rush through his body. He thinks it might overcome him before he catches a genuine smile on your face, “Goodnight, Jun.” 

“Goodnight.” He watches you walk in before walking back to his car, where he dwells on the sweet image of your smile. 

Your lips. God, your lips.

 He should've done it, what's fast about a kiss? The look you gave him replays in his mind, flutters breaking out in his stomach over and over again each time. The regret is making him move ten times slower and distracts him well enough that he doesn't notice the moving figure circling around his car to the driver's side window. 

The knock makes him jump. He rolls his window down, looking awfully confused because here you were, kneeling down to his level, with a nervous look. 

“Y/N? Are you okay? Did you forget something?” 

You stare at him for a bit, “Um, yeah, j-just this…” You lean forward hesitant before landing a quick peck on his lips. It happened so fast Yeonjun barely had time to feel your lips pressed on his, but he felt them, they were on there. He notices the nervous look as you wait patiently for his reaction and it makes him break into a smile. Who knew being on the same page felt so good? 

He reaches your face with both of his hands to bring you back to him, this time keeping your lips on his for longer than a peck, and they feel much softer than they looked, and he was able to taste the leftover sweetness of the slice of cake you shared, he can't believe he said goodnight before doing this. He can't believe he lived a whole life before your lips.

The wind picks up and he feels you shiver once again, and he remembers that its winter and you ran out in your dress and a thin cardigan. He lets go, not before pecking your lips once more, and smiles up at you, the blush on your cheeks were his doing and he's feeling really good about that. 

“Okay, for real now, goodnight.” You giggle before tightening your cardigan and running back inside. 

He watches you scurry in, and he drives off, the faint feeling of your lips are as present as the permanent smile on his lips that night. 

——- 

“Are you sure there’s nothing more I can help you with, Mrs. L/N?” Yeonjun stands by the open door, leaning against the wall, using it as support as he fits his foot in his shoe. The table was cleared and the dishes were washed, yet he felt like he could stay longer if needed. 

Yeonjun loved your family home. Everything reminded him of you, from the smell to the style to every single picture on the wall having either a call back to stories he remembers you telling him or a younger version of you in them. It made it feel like you, and it was hard to leave every time. 

“You've done more than enough, sweetie. Thank you.” Your mother replies leaning to give him a tight hug and an affectionate squeeze on the cheek before heading to the living room. 

“Y/N, dont forget to lock the door once youre back inside.” 

“Got it!” You respond back, closing the door behind you as you both step out to the refreshing breeze of a summer night. The buzzing of the insects filled the silence as Yeonjun turned back to you. 

“Thank you, sweetie.” you tease, wrapping your arms around his waist. 

“Oo, someone jealous~” 

“Am not!” 

“Its okay, baby. I won't steal your mom.” He ruffles the top of your head before leaning into your embrace. 

“You wouldn't succeed anyways~” It came out muffled that he could barely understand it, making him chuckle lightly. 

He knew he had to leave soon, you both had class in the morning. Yet in your warmth, it made it so hard to care about anything other than the feeling of your head in his chest. 

“Dont go.” You say softly. Once again, it's like you were in his head.

“Mmm, We have class tomorrow though, and you have that exam, i'm only gonna distract you.” He hated to be the responsible one in these circumstances but you had been nervous about this class and he knew better than to fall for the temptation of staying and not allowing you to study. 

“Ugh.. Please dont remind me.” You rub your face on his chest before stepping back and he looks at you with an amused face. 

“Are you picking me up tomorrow?” 

“Duh.” 

“Okay. Can we go to that one cafe with the fluffy cheesecakes after?” 

He nods before pulling on your fingers, leaning in for a kiss. 

“Goodnight, Baby~” He says in between kisses.

“Night, Junie~” You turn to go, your hand being the last thing lingering on him, before you feel back. He grabs your face gently bringing you in for a second kiss. 

“Goodnight, Baby~” He says again, a small smile playing on his lips as he pecks you twice. 

This brings a small laugh out of you. 

“Goodnight, Junie~” You drag out before turning around again, only to again feel a pull back, this time his hands slip and pull your long sleeve instead. 

“Yeonjun!” You laugh out, his lips once again attaching themselves to you. 

“Okay, okay, forreal goodnight” He laughs too, his hands closing in behind your head, bringing you in for what should have been the final kiss of the night. He feels your smiles in the kiss fade as he keeps you in the kiss for a bit, he can feel the soft sigh you let out and he feels dizzy from it. Yeonjun breaks the kiss, landing pecks before leaning back slightly, your head still in his hands. The warmth spreads across his face, down to his chest and he can't tell if the buzzing is coming from the insects anymore or from his heart.  What he can tell, is that you're feeling it too as he watches how your half lidded eyes continue to stare at him, so full of adoration and love he almost feels shy by them. 

“I love you” He whispers, watching you carefully for any sign of a reaction. He thinks he might have read the room wrong, until he watches your eyes widen and sparkle cartoonishly, a smile breaking wide on your face. 

“I love you too.” He takes a moment to process your response before leaning down to touch foreheads and Yeonjun feels an explosion of emotions in him, like fireworks being set off all over his body. 

“Good.” He says trying to play it off as not a big deal. But he can't play off the crack in his voice. You giggle. 

“Shut up,” You push him gently and Yeonjun can't help but just stare at you, “Goodnight, Baby. I love you~” He loves the enjoyment in your eyes as you say it.

“I love you too. Good night~” And just like the night of your first date, and almost every week since it happened 6 months ago, he watches you walk towards the door. 

“Okay! Goodnight! Go already!” You laugh from the door. “Text me when you're home!”

———

Yeonjun watches you from the corner of his eye at the way you run a hand through your hair, standing across from him, your arms crossed. Your parents weren't home, and they wouldn't be for the whole weekend, something that was often celebrated between the two of you, spent in each other’s arms, in each other's beds, but right now Yeonjun sat slumped on the couch. He spent the past five minutes in silence trying to figure out how to direct the conversation, but he felt like you were both losing patience with each other, and he hated the feeling. 

“Y/N. Can you please just sit with me?” 

He watches you stand there for a moment before walking towards him. Arguments weren’t common enough to know how to have a healthy one. Words and accusations have been thrown, and Yeonjun wants to put an end to it before it gets worse. 

It started with a light stray, just a small comment from you that caught him off guard. 

“You can go, I don't mind staying home.” you lean facing the island as you watch the water of the sink hit the drain, steam rising up makes you turn the faucet handle the other direction before Yeonjun puts his hands in boiling water. 

“What? No, come on, it'll be fun.” he rubs your back as he stacks the dishes in the sink. 

“Right, because being stuck in a corner is fun.” From the look on your face, the soft chuckle that escapes your lips, he knew you didn't mean anything provoking about it, but he couldn't help but believe there was deeper meaning behind it. 

“What's that supposed to mean?” He no longer focused on the dishes. 

“Huh? Nothing? I just mean like sometimes your friends' parties aren't fun. ” 

“But we already said we’d go? I don't want to back out now.” 

“Then go, baby. We don't both have to be there. I'm sure they won't even notice I'm not there.” 

“Of course they'll notice! Chaewon and Soob are gonna be so bummed you're not there. I'm gonna be bummed you're not there” 

“Jun, I really don't want to spend the one weekend having the house to myself, at someone else's house. I'm tired, I'm on my period and the last thing I want to do is drink and have the bass booming in my ears. If you really wanna go, it's fine. You should go.” You were getting frustrated, he could tell but the feeling was throwing him out on a loop. 

Yeonjun felt like something was off. Have you always felt this way about the parties you’d go to? Had it had something to do with his friends? With him? 

“Come on, I always go to your parties, come to mine.” It hadn't occurred to him how pushy he sounded, but the idea of leaving you home alone didn't sit right with him. 

“No one asks you to go though.” 

“You don't have to ask me, I do things without needing to be begged.” it hits him. He's saying the wrong things, but it's too late, because you're giving him a look of total shock. 

“You don't have to beg me. I don't want to go. And even more so now that I'm being forced out of guilt.” 

“I didn't mean it like that.” 

“It doesn't matter what you meant. It's how it came out.” 

The argument only escalated from there. What started out as a simple rejection evolved to a yelling match and ended with Yeonjun slamming the door on his way out. No ‘goodnight’, no goodnight kiss, just the fall wind making it hard to walk out into the night. 

Yeonjun thinks he might have been overdoing things, overestimating the meaning behind your words, but it was hard to be sure, when you always hid behind them. Yeonjun couldn't shake off the feeling that there was more to it. And now leaving you alone in an empty house sent a wave of regret and sadness throughout his bones. Yeonjun hated saying goodnight to you, hated  that he had to settle on kissing you, settle on the faint ghosting feeling of your lips on his before he went to bed, but preferred it over this feeling anyday and now he royally fucked it up for the night and had to suffer through it. 

He wouldn't be able to even enjoy the party with the thought of you angry at him. He wouldn't be able to focus on the conversations nor enjoy the drinks with the memory of your furrowed eyebrows playing in a loop. 

He only made it two blocks away before he turned back, and headed back to you. He found you in the kitchen with teary eyes and soapy foam on your hands. The water running filled the dead air around you.

When Yeonjun finally makes his presence known, you're quick to look back down.

The silence that surrounds you now, as he gets you to sit beside him, has him questioning how he can fix this. 

His hand is hesitant in reaching for yours, and you move it closer to him to reassure him that it was okay to grab it. Thank god. He thought. 

“I'm sorry for everything I've said,” He rubs your palm looking at you focus on your hand, “I shouldn't be forcing you to do anything you don't want to do, it's not a big deal if you miss a couple of my friends parties, we don't have to go to every single one, i'm sorry i wasn't thinking about you. I like having you there and being around me and when you hangout with my friends I feel good, like all my favorite people are in one room. I think that just made me become a little selfish.” He joins you in watching how his thumb presses into your skin. You nod. 

Silence overcomes the both of you again, before you break it next. 

“I'm sorry too. I don't mean to be mean, I think my words just come out that way before I can think them through and I really need to work on that. You're not selfish for wanting that, but sometimes I just get tired of going out all the time.” He feels you holding back again, not being able to voice what was bothering you.

“Is it the ‘going out’ that's really bothering you? Or might it be something else?” It dawns on him that he can just ask. The tension had been disappearing by the minute, you pulled your hand away from him and hid your face. 

“I dont want to sound clingy…” 

“Hey, you won't. I swear.” 

You rub your hand over your face. Yeonjun hopes that the hand he places on your back soothes you at least a bit. 

“Sometimes you just feel really dismissive at parties. Like yeah we showed up together and you've introduced me to your friends and they know me and they're so nice, but in the first 10 minutes, you're like gone. I just start to feel abandoned. You don't have to babysit me, it's not what I'm saying you know? It's just like I feel left out, and maybe it's on me, maybe I just have to put myself out there and put in the effort to be friends with your friends, but youre kinda like my way in ya know? I was lucky that Soobin and Chaewon are in some of my classes for the semester, and we got closer that way. But once they leave, it's so hard to get close to you or keep up with you.  I'm sorry if this sounds annoying, I know its sou-” 

Yeonjun was dumbfounded. How could he have made you feel that way and never noticed? 

Right, because being stuck in a corner is fun. How stupid could he have possibly been. 

He felt his throat closing in. He cuts off your apologetic rant. 

“No. You have nothing to be sorry for. I'm so sorry I never noticed I would do that, I can't believe I didn't. You're right. I'm so sorry, y/n. Please forgive me. I hadn't realized that's what you meant. I won't be doing that ever again. I swear. Believe me.” he doesn't know what else to do other than spur out apologies. 

“Its okay. Really. I guess I know you get so caught up in having fun..” 

“Stop. Please don't justify it. I love you. I'm so sorry.” he grabs your hand and kisses your palm. 

“It's okay, thank you for listening. I love you too~” You chuckle a bit, your eyes no longer teary as they are replaced by a look of amusement. 

“We're pretty good at this argument and resolution thing, no?” You say after another small moment of silence. Yeonjun laughs. The tension is gone, chests are feeling lighter and the air is no longer still around you as Yeonjun wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you back to rest on the cushions. He's already thinking of all the ways he can make up for his mistake.

“Definitely not, but we got time to work on it.” He kisses your head. 

“It's a good start, atleast~” You laugh, leaning into his arms. 

The heater turns on, and the position you're both in feels so comfortable neither of you want to move. Especially Yeonjun as he catches a glance at the clock, 11:40pm.

“So… Do I have to say ‘goodnight’ tonight?” In his head, he knows the answer. Yet, he still asks, wanting to feel reassured, feeling an invisible new boundary he wants only you to break. 

“Dont be dumb.” You respond snuggling further into him and the couch. He can tell from the way you respond, that you're falling asleep, and with that thought his own eyes begin to droop. 

“Oh, jun?” Barely above a whisper that Yeonjun barely catches it. 

“Yeah?” With his eyes close and heavy he doesn't notice your finger raising to his forehead level before giving it a stinging flick.

“Ouch!” 

“Never walk out like that again.” 

—--

“Please tell me that was the last of the boxes.” You force out in a big puff of air. Summer had just started, yet the heat felt marinated into the spring and only got worse. 

Yeonjun nods as he climbs the last two steps of the stairs. Curse this elevator-less building.

Yeonjun had recently moved out of the dorms into a college-assigned apartment complex. He saved money from his multiple jobs, and pulled out the biggest loan in mankind just to gain what he called the biggest privilege in all of college history: Privacy. 

Soobin and Beomgyu had shed some fake tears before vowing to visit everyday, something Yeonjun did not laugh at. You, on the other hand, couldn't keep your laugh in as you watched the frown on Yeonjun’s face grow deeper as the boys pretended to console what they thought was a sad and lonely man. 

“At least you guys can finally do it in peace.” Beomgyu announces as he drops the box by the corner of the empty room. He swipes the sweat off his forehead, quirking his eyebrow, earning a smack at the back of the head from Yeonjun. 

“Idiot.” Soobin says, fanning himself with a random piece of flimsy paper. 

“He's not wrong though…” Yeonjun whispers as he wraps his arms around your waist, his chin resting on your shoulder. You smack his arm, your cheeks turning red. 

After the boys helped move the mattress in, they left, not before complaining about getting kicked out so soon. Yeonjun just wanted to spend time with you, alone, in what is now the space of his own home. 

“I feel used.” Beomgyu wiped a fake tear, “thrown away, even. Y/N treat him well, he no longer needs us.” 

“This is so sad,” You say, patting his head, looking at Yeonjun.

“If I give you 30 bucks for dinner, will you both leave us alone?” 

“Deal.” 

Once they were gone, you both moved the mattress towards the center of the living area, the carpet making you both struggle and groan. Yeonjun lands face flat on the queen mattress, heaving. 

“Ill order the pizza, can you get my laptop? I brought some drinks and snacks from home so we don't have to buy those.” 

Yeonjun watches as you rummage through the bag filled with home goods. You had brought whatever you thought would be useful to him; soap, shampoo, towels, some dishes, canned foods, homemade dishes that were able to be frozen, anything really that could save him time and money. Yeonjun’s heart almost exploded at the sight of you carrying the pink duffle bag, smiling so wide as you excitedly showed him what you were able to snatch.

 He could tell the idea of a new apartment excited you too. Earlier in the year, he had imagined himself asking you to move in with him, to maybe take that chance. He had no reason not to. You had been together for a while now, and things were getting serious with each passing day. He couldn't imagine seeing the relationship ending…ever. He had been so serious about you since day one and he could tell you saw him as the sure thing too, and when the opportunity came up, of renting his own space, it was waking up to you that was the first thought in his head. But… he was nervous. He had heard from friends that some relationships don't last the ‘living together’ stage. Those arguments about different ways of living can become bigger ones, ones that question if the pairing ever made sense. It scared him, what if he was too messy? What if you didn't like the way he had late night snacks at night, or the fact that he would stay at the dance studio for long periods of time? Most of these things you knew already, but you didn't have to deal with it really at your own house. He questioned if the fear of losing you was bigger than the want of spending every waking moment he could with you, he knew the answer but was just scared to make the realization. 

“Pizza is ordered!” You plop next to Yeonjun, now on his back, on the mattress, “which one?” you hold up two drinks for him to pick, he takes one from your hand and places it nearby before nudging at your hips to lift. He places you on his stomach, your legs straddling his sides. 

“You don't have curtains yet.” You whispered, red tint spreading from your face down to your neck. 

He laughs, “What are you thinking in that head of yours? I just wanted to be near you.” 

“Whatever! I was just reminding you!” You squeak, covering your face with your hands. He laughs again, rubbing his hands up and down from your thighs to your waist, thinking about it again. It could be like this everyday, not having to worry about roommates or parents barging in, no moments of awkwardness, no disruptions, just the look in your eyes as you stare at him in the comfortable silence that settles between the two of you.

“What do you think about a coffee table? I know you said your furnishing budget was short and I was at the thrift store the other day and they had this really nice antique…” 

If you do say yes, what would it mean? Was it too soon for him to think about the next year with you? The next five? Ten? He can imagine it all. He wanted it all. 

“Will you move in with me?” He says, catching you off guard. 

“Huh?” 

“...Moving in… would you move in with, um, with me? You don't have to, it was just like a thought-” 

“You want to live with me?” Your eyes, that were practically popped out in shock as you looked down at him, softened. 

“I want to do everything with you.” Yeonjun knows your face mirrors his in redness. 

Your eyes water, and you try to stop yourself from smiling. “You're so cheesy…”

“I would love to.” You whisper. you're now leaning in closer, and Yeonjun, with a heart so heavy and ready to spill, feels impatient that he must meet you halfway, folding his elbows behind him to lean on. He connects your lips immediately, and his heart sighs and yours must too the way he feels you relax above him, bringing your hands to his hair, your nails raking through his scalp. He would never say this to you, in fear of maybe scaring you off, but he saw your future in this specific kiss, where you both experience moments of success, of happiness, of sadness and tragedy, but you were experiencing it together, and he couldn't imagine it with anybody else. 

That night as the movie played, with no actual audience, Yeonjun felt relieved that his parting days were over. He wouldn't have to say goodnight to you, wouldn't have to detach himself from your lips, your arms, leaving him cold and wanting more. You could be the first thing he sees in the morning and the last thing he would see at night, and to him, that was all he could ever really want.

A/N: You made it! Thank you so much for giving it a chance! Its not my strongest but she my first finished baby in a long time... Please tell me your thoughts!! tell me you hate it, tell me you love it, anything im open to suggestions, tips, im a crier tho fair warning, but I won't tell you I cried (A win for you!)

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Mad Season ❄ Story B

Warnings: non/dubcon, social anxiety, chronic illness, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: this is Bucky’s side of the story.

Summary: a class project gets messy. (short!reader)

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

“You get some good sleep,” Bucky says as he lingers behind you. You jingle your keys, nearly dropping them as you fish them from your bag. “I’ll be back for my jacket tomorrow.” 

“Right, er, you can just take it now,” you turn back and he puts his hand up. 

“Just in case, you hold onto it,” his lips curve slightly. “I told ya, I’m sweatin’ in this weather.” 

“Oh, okay,” you hate to argue, especially after he’s been so nice. He even walked you off campus. “Uh, thanks... I... I feel better.” 

“That’s good, doll. Didn’t even know you were upset? Something I should know about?” He wonders. 

You shake your head. You don’t want to think about Peter, let alone mention him. “No, just... college stuff.” 

“Ah, got a big assignment? Is that what you and the kid are working on?” He asks. 

“Mhmm,” you glance away evasively. “Yeah, homework.” 

“Didn’t do much school myself. Was an army brat. Hung around the base, did some smuggling, then I ended up babysitting the little twerp we now know as Captain America,” he scoffs. “Well, that was ages ago. I almost forget...” he shrugs then raises a hand and snaps his fingers, “oh, uh, not to be too forward, you want my number? For emergencies.” 

You hesitate. It’s probably a good idea. He’s leaving his coat and you’re not sure how long your study group will take tomorrow. 

“Um, okay,” you slip out your phone and shiver as you step back down the walk. “I’ll text you... number?” 

He takes out his phone and crackles out a tiny laugh, “you know, I can remember my US Army number, can’t for the life of me keep this one in my head.” He taps and scrolls, “here we are.” 

He reads out the numbers and you tap them in. You add him as a contact and open a conversation. You send him a smiley. 

“Amazing. Now I can tell Steve I got a pretty girl’s number,” he chuckles. You look at him in surprise. He cringes, “woof, not as smooth as I used to be. Anyway, I’ll be around. Let me know when I can pick the coat up.” 

“S-sure.” You agree. 

“You have a good night, doll,” he stays where he is, planting his feet as he watches you expectantly. 

You head up the walk and your keys tinkle once more as you unlock the door and push inward. You glance over your shoulder as he watches. He nods. It’s nice of him to make sure you’re safe. You give a wave then go inside. 

You’re just happy to be back at your dorm.  

❄ 

You wake up early despite the late night. You’ve never been very good at sleeping in. You get washed up, take your meds, and get dressed in a pair of wool tights and a cozy knit dress. As you go to leave, you stop short. Bucky’s fleece-lined leather hangs on the chair. You wonder what happened to your jacket. 

The winds whistle outside your window. You don’t have any other coats, just the one. You shrug on the loose leather and zip it up. It smells a bit like cedar.  

You get out the door early enough to buy a tea at the cafe on your way to the library. Your group for your lab is all there but one. You sit down but they hardly seem to notice. You don’t know how you’ll get anything done when they just stare blankly when you read out the instructions. 

You muddle through. It’s awkward because they all seem to know each other but none of them are very nice to you. In the end, you’re stuck with most of the work and they’re talking about the movie theatre. 

You pack up and they leave in pairs. You stand and grab the leather coat, hugging it under your arm as you check your phone. You’re going to check out a few shelves before you head off. 

As you push in the chair with your hip, a message blips up in the top of the screen. Bucky. You don’t get to read his message before your name pulls your head up. 

“Hey, been looking for you,” Peter says. “Got your coat...” He squints as his eyes fall to the coat over your arm. “That’s a bit big, isn’t it?” 

“Oh, it’s... borrowed.” 

“Borrowed? From who?” 

“Doesn’t matter,” you say as your scalp tingles. “Thanks for bringing that back.” 

You reach for your coat but he does the same and latches onto the leather. You try to tug both away. He yanks Bucky’s coat away and shakes it out. He snorts as he looks it up and down. His eyes snap up derisively and he throws it on the ground. 

“How the hell did you get that?” He growls. 

“I...” 

“No, why the hell are you carrying around his coat? He’s an old fucking man.” 

“Peter,” you bend to pick up the coat. 

“I’m not stupid. His dumb pin is on it. No wonder you ran out last night. You act like I’m the one messing around and you’re sneaking around with Bucky Barnes?” He sneers. 

“I wasn’t sneaking--” You lift the coat and hold it against yours. You back up as you pout at him. “Why are you yelling?” 

“I told you I liked you and now you’re walking around in another guy’s coat. Why wouldn’t I?” He pauses and looks around, only then aware of his audience. “Oh, right, it’s a library.” He speaks louder as he throws his arms out, “guess I need to be quiet!” 

You cringe and turn back to swipe up your bag. You keep your head down as your heart races and your breath begins to burn your chest. You turn back but can’t look at him. You keep a wide breadth as you step around him, bracing for him to do something.  

He just snarls as you pass, “you’re such a baby.” 

You hurry out, cheat thumping, head spinning, each step faster than the next. When at last you get to the first floor and burst out onto campus, your temples are pulsing. You struggle to untangle your bag from the coats and finally bury your hand deep inside. You take out your puffer but it slips from your frantic grasp. 

It bounces across the pavement and you cough and wheeze. Before you can reach for it, someone else does. You look up at Bucky as he stands straight. He looks you up and down and holds it out, “whatsa matter, doll?” 

You take it eagerly and suck on the end, puffing several times. He moves to block the wind as it whips around you. You finally steady yourself and hug the coats. 

“N-nothing,” you utter, “here. I have your coat.” 

He eyes you wearily as you pull his coat from under yours and hold it out. He takes it reluctantly as his mouth slants, “thanks. Where you off to?” 

“Just... groceries,” you shiver as you open your coat. 

“Groceries it is,” he says, “I’ll carry your bags.” 

You’re too out of it to protest. You need to get out of there before Peter catches up to you. You’re embarrassed after the scene he made in the library and you don’t need another. You just nod and pull your sleeves up your arms. 

“Thank you,” you murmur. 

[sissylittlefeather]

Bonded: Part 4

Baby What You Want Me to Do

A/N: Here is the next part to the vampire series I started last Halloween! Things are heating up as we move from 1960 to 1970 with vampire Elvis and our vampire reader. I hope you enjoy!

Need to catch up?

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI, kissing, cussing, fingering, oral sex (f receiving), penetrative sex, unprotected sex, creampie, but they're vampires so also blood drinking, biting, and someone with a pretty serious illness

Word count: ~3.8k

December 1970

He prays desperately that they'll find you. You're his only hope.

Elvis paces the TV room at Graceland smoking his cigar much too quickly. What will he do if the guys can't find you? He's talked to three different vampires and they all refused to help him. Surely, once he explains, you'll do what he needs.

There's also a small part of him that just wants to know where you are, wants to see you again. He's wondered where you were so many times over the last decade and he almost broke down and looked for you on several occasions. But he was never as desperate as he is now.

He sits down on the couch and stares absentmindedly at the TVs as they play three different football games. Hopefully Sonny and the guys can find you. They have to find you.

******

You leave your job at the Moulin Rouge not long after your encounter with Elvis. People start to notice that you aren't aging. But more than that, everything there reminds you of him. So you pack up and move to Rome. You bounce around Europe for the better part of the decade and then decide you'll go home to America. By the mid ‘60s there are more soldiers, but you have no interest in living in Vietnam. Besides, you’re getting a little tired of the routine that keeps you alive. Several times you consider giving up entirely and letting yourself fade, but there’s always a reason to keep going, even if it’s just that you have to go to work the next day.

You watch Elvis's career from afar, see every single one of his movies, and cry when you watch the Special in ‘68. That's when you go home, settling in Las Vegas to become a showgirl. There is a steady stream of male tourists and, if you’re being honest, the vague chance that you might run into Elvis. In a way, you’re happy, despite living alone. After Paris, you stop looking for others like you and learn to be content to live in isolation. Even after all these years, the only one you really want is him.

You get invited to one of his parties once by some guy who is trying to show off, but you bail at the last second, scared of how he might react to seeing you again. He’s married with a child, why would he want to reconnect with the woman who ruined his life? Still, his life doesn't seem ruined when you read what the papers have to say about his grand return to the stage. You're happy he’s happy and you make that be enough.

******

Elvis walks upstairs to Lisa Marie’s room and stands in the doorway for a little while just watching the scene in front of him. His little girl lays in the bed asleep as the nurse sits beside her waiting for the next coughing fit.

“How is she?” He whispers and the nurse looks up at him.

“Not any better. The doctor is worried that the whooping cough will turn to pneumonia. If that happens-”

“It won't.” He can't entertain that possibility in his mind. She's already too sick. He walks over to the bed and kneels down beside it, looking at his toddler daughter struggling to breathe on the pillow. She's not even 3 years old. “I won't let it happen.”

“Mr. Presley, I know it's hard to think about, but she's not responding to the antibiotics. You need to-” He turns to her with his eyes burning and cruel. It's easy to forget he's a vampire until he looks like this. The nurse doesn't know, of course, but she's filled with an icy cold terror anyway.

“I've already fired three nurses for talking like this. Do you want to be next?” He spits it at her and she shakes her head vehemently.

“N-no sir. I'm sorry.” She shrinks like a mouse in front of a violent predator. Elvis glares at her, nostrils flaring, and seriously considers draining her dry. He hasn't fed in days and he feels his fangs descend just thinking about it. Shaking his head a little, he turns back to face the bed and takes a deep breath to get rid of his fangs.

“You just do your job. Leave the rest to me.” He lifts Lisa Marie’s hand to his lips and kisses it gently. “My baby will be just fine.”

The nurse nods as he stands up and walks to the doorway, pausing to look back at the bed.

“She will be fine.” He has to find you before it's too late.

******

You read in the papers that Elvis is back in Vegas at the end of January 1971. Every time you find out he's there, your heart skips and you try not to pray that this is the time you run into him. You attempt to go about your business as usual and ignore the strange pull you feel to reach out to him.

It takes every amount of threatening from the Colonel to get Elvis to go back to Vegas while Lisa Marie is sick. Her whooping cough does turn into pneumonia and she just seems to get worse with each passing day. Elvis has her moved to a hospital in Vegas so he can be with her any time he's not on stage.

In the meantime, the men he's sent to search for you continue to come up empty handed. Nobody at the Moulin Rouge knows where you are and none of their other leads go anywhere. Mary hasn't spoken with you since the day Elvis was turned. And even though they find Anya back home in Russia, she doesn't know where you are either. Last she heard, you were going back to America, but she wasn't sure where you'd gone.

Elvis breaks almost every knick knack in his Vegas suite flying into fits of rage over their incompetence. He could've told them you were in America. There's a strange feeling in him that tells him you're close by, he's just not sure where.

So when he sees you one day crossing the street in front of him on his way to the hospital, he almost doesn't believe it's you. But he'd recognize you anywhere, even with his eyes closed. For some reason, his extreme senses pick up on you better than anything he's ever experienced. He can smell you and hear you despite the bustling city around him.

Without warning, he unlocks the door and hops out of the car, ignoring the pleas from his bodyguards. He's stronger than all of them combined, so they don't even attempt to hold him back as he runs across the street to you.

You feel him before you see him, his scent almost overwhelming you. Your eyes close and you stop dead in your tracks as he comes up behind you.

“Y/n…”

“Elvis.” You turn to him, opening your eyes slowly. For a second, you both just stare at each other.

“I need you.” You're not sure what you were expecting to come out of his mouth, but it wasn't that.

“You… need me?”

“Yes. Please. Come with me.” You're on your way to work, but you don't think twice.

“Okay.” He leads you back through traffic to his car where it's parked as his bodyguards wait for him to come back. Sonny stands there, not sure what to think about the kind of woman that makes Elvis Presley jump out of a moving car.

“What the hell, boss?” Elvis just shakes his head.

“I told you she was close, man.” Sonny's mouth pops open.

“Is that… she's… that's her?” Elvis nods as he opens the door for you to slide into the backseat.

“That's her.” He slides into the seat beside you and slams the car door. You can't get over how good he looks in his velvet jacket. His hair is a lot longer than the last time you saw him, but he's just as handsome as he's ever been.

“Elvis…”

“I need your help. I've been looking for you.” Your body is screaming for you to pull him close to you, but you try to ignore the instinct.

“For me? Why?”

“You'll see.” You ride in silence, not sure what to say to the man you've loved for over a decade when you haven't seen him in just as long. When the car pulls up in front of the hospital, you really start to wonder what he wants with you. “Don't say anything to the press.”

He doesn't give you time to ask any questions before getting out of the car and running to your side to help you out.

“Elvis, what-?”

“Just come with me.” He puts his hand on the small of your back, sending shivers through both of you, and leads you past the paparazzi and through the hospital to Lisa Marie's room. At the door he turns to you with a strange look of desperation on his face. His distress is almost palpable. “I need your help with this.”

He pushes the door open and guides you into the room. When you see the little girl in the bed, oxygen pumping and monitors beeping, your hand goes to your mouth.

“This is my daughter, Lisa Marie. She has pneumonia and it's not responding to the medication.” Your eyes fill with tears, his sadness overwhelming you.

“What do you need from me?” He hesitates for a second and then decides he has nothing to lose.

“I need you to help me turn her into one of us.”

His request hangs in the air like some tangible thing. It takes a second for you to really register what he's asking, before you turn to him with your eyes wide.

“Elvis, she's a child. She's a baby. I'm not-”

“She's dying, y/n. I can't lose her.” You feel the desperation roll off of him in deep waves and look back at the toddler in the bed. For a second, you consider what it would mean.

“No, Elvis! I'm not doing this!” You turn and walk out of the hospital room. In the hallway, you lean against the wall and try to catch your breath. His emotions are making it difficult to think. You don't remember being this sensitive to him before, but it's like the years apart have made your senses even more extreme. There's always a strange sort of connection between a vampire and their maker, but yours seems to be especially strong. Or maybe his feelings are just that intense.

“Y/n! Please. You're my only hope of saving her.” His blue eyes burn with desperation.

“No!” You yell at first and then lower your voice when you realize the nurses at the desk are watching the two of you. “I'm not doing this, Elvis. I can't.”

He grabs your shoulders and shakes you a little, not hard but enough to feel.

“You have to! You did this to me! You owe me this!” He's frantic now, almost hysterical with the thought that you're refusing to do what he needs. You reach up and take his face in both hands.

“Elvis. Not here. Not like this. People are watching.” He blinks a few times and lets go of your shoulders, looking around. He sniffs hard and takes his glasses off to wipe his eyes. Placing them back on his nose, he looks at you intensely.

“Okay. Come with me.” He takes your hand and drags you back through the hospital to his car, ignoring the reporters as they yell questions about who you are and why he's at the hospital. Back in the safety of the car, he breaks down. “I don't know what else to do.”

He leans over in your arms and you hold him as he cries on your chest. Tears stream down your cheeks and your body is wracked with sobs. You're not sure if it's his sadness or yours that's got you like this, but you hold him and rock with him in your arms the whole way back to his hotel.

When you pull up, he groans and sits up, wiping his face with his hands. He pulls a handkerchief out of his pocket and hands it to you to wipe your face with. You're not sure why he didn't use it himself, but it's like that would be admitting he had cried. Once you're both cleaned up as much as you can be, he opens the car door and leads you up to his suite. As soon as you're alone, he rounds on you. His eyes are so much on fire that they're almost red.

“Tell me again why the fuck you won’t save my daughter’s life.”

“Elvis, think about what you're asking me. You want me to help you make your baby a vampire.” He turns and kicks a table.

“I want you to SAVE HER LIFE.” He snarls at you angrily. You decide that yelling back is not going to be helpful. Instead you take a deep breath and ask quietly.

“Did I save your life?” He stares at you.

“What?”

“When I turned you, did I save your life?” You say it slowly and deliberately and watch as he puts together what you're asking.

“No, but I wasn't dying.” He seems to have softened a bit though, so you continue this line of questioning.

“And are you happy that I turned you?”

“Not really.” The bitterness in his voice cuts straight through you.

“Is this the life you want for your child?” That strikes a chord and he looks up at you with his eyes cold again.

“I didn't want this life for myself.” Now it's your turn to shake your head and get a little fired up.

“Oh no you don't. You do not get to blame this on me. You begged me to turn you.” You watch as he puffs up again and prepares for a fight.

“And you knew better!”

“I told you-”

“BUT YOU DID IT ANYWAY!” He walks close to you and towers over you. “YOU DID IT ANYWAY!”

“YOU DIDN’T GIVE ME AN OPTION!” He scares you a bit, but you refuse to back down. “YOU-”

“AND THEN YOU SENT ME AWAY!” You laugh derisively.

“I sent you away?! Are you fucking kidding me?!” You take a step towards him and look up into his face. “You left me!”

He grabs your upper arms and shakes you again.

“DO YOU THINK I WANTED TO LEAVE-” You cut him off and scream.

“DO YOU THINK I WANTED YOU TO LEAVE?! I LOVED YOU!” He lets go of your arms and his mouth pops open, but he closes it quickly and turns away from you. You whisper to his back. “I love you.”

You try to suppress your tears, dying to know what he is thinking. He doesn't give you long to wonder, though. Instead, he turns back to you with a tortured expression.

“Why the fuck didn't you say anything?”

“I knew better! I knew you didn't love me!” He shakes his head.

“You decided for me.”

“Are you telling me I was wrong?!” Your voice wavers as the tears threaten to spill over. “You know you didn't-”

And then in three steps he's wrapped around you, his mouth crashed into yours, kissing you with an unbridled passion.

You don't even think, your body just responds and you jump to wrap your legs around his waist. He catches you easily and carries you to the bedroom, his mouth never moving from yours. A decade’s worth of pent up passion is escaping you both as he lays you down on the bed and rolls his hips forward to meet yours. He stops for the smallest second and strokes the side of your face with the back of his fingers. Then he leans in and kisses you softly a few times before the heat takes over again and he tears at your clothes. In a few short minutes he's got you both stripped naked and you press your bodies together, soaking in the feeling of each other’s skin. It's been so long since he's had you like this that he almost forgot what it felt like to be this close to you, but it all comes rushing back to him as you whimper underneath him. He presses his lips to your body, leaving a trail of hot kisses in his wake as he moves down your stomach. His fangs have already descended and he grazes them against your inner thigh in the place where he bit you when you made love before he left Germany. How many nights has he thought of that day? The way you tasted and smelled and how you writhed under his body in pleasure.

You're overwhelmed with the reality of him as he worships you, having spent too many years imagining him, replaying your last time together over and over in your mind with your fingers pressed to your clit, whispering his name into the darkness like a prayer. You feel your fangs against your bottom lip and arch your back as he drags his tongue up your thigh and hovers just over your center.

“You really thought I didn't love you?” He whispers, just before he lowers his mouth to you, letting his tongue dart out over your sensitive bud. You moan softly as he begins to lick and suck you with the fire of a man possessed by desire. Words are beyond you as he works your clit with his mouth and then moves down to press his tongue as deep inside you as it'll go. You whimper and gasp as he fucks you with his tongue and then moves back up, sliding two long fingers into you. The feeling of his rings against your entrance is new and particularly delicious as you feel your orgasm start to gather in between your hips. His fangs press gently into your skin as he licks you hard and slides his fingers in and out. He knows you're close to a climax, remembers the way you feel like this, and is pulling out all the stops to push you over the edge. “Come on, baby. You can let go for me. I'm not goin’ anywhere.”

He's not sure why that's what he says, but it works nonetheless and you feel yourself giving in to the pleasure as it washes over you in pounding waves. He moans a little when he feels you pulse around his fingers. As your clit softens, he pulls back a bit and it takes everything in him not to sink his fangs into your thigh. His dick is so hard it almost hurts and he's dying for some kind of release. He hasn't fed in way too long and the knowledge that you're there and you taste so good is about to kill him.

You watch, confused, as he moves away from you and sits up with his back against the headboard, leaning back and sighing deeply.

“Elvis, what-?”

“I'm trying not to bite you.” You sit up and look at him, so beautiful with his eyes closed and his head thrown back, shaggy hair a little wet with sweat. His body is taut and when your eyes land on his hard cock standing at the ready, your pussy clenches around nothing.

“Why?” You whisper as you slink over to him and crawl into his lap, straddling his thighs and taking his dick in your hand. He groans as you start to pump him and then lean in and kiss his chest. “I don't mind.”

He immediately lifts his head and looks down as you move your hair out of the way and expose your neck to him. It’s been so long and he knows how good you taste. A low growl escapes him as he leans forward and licks a spot on your neck.

“You're sure, baby?”

“Just don't drain me, but yes.” He smiles a little and drags his fangs across your skin. Your hand is still pumping him, but as he moves to bite you, you lift up and sink down onto his cock while his fangs press into your neck. Both of you moan deeply with the double sensation. You roll your hips against him as he sucks the blood from your neck and the passion begins to mount again as both of his hands move to your back. He groans as you begin to bounce on him harder, pushing him so deep inside you that you dance on the edge of another orgasm.

“Fuck, Elvis!” You moan and he backs away from your neck and pulls your mouth to his, your fangs bumping into his as you taste your own blood on his tongue. He moves his hands to your hips and starts to lift and drop you faster and faster, feeling the pleasure rise in him and threaten to explode inside you. Then, he grabs the other side of your neck with his hand and presses his forehead into yours as you fuck him.

“Of course I loved you. I’ve always loved you. I still love you.” You let out a strangled moan at his words and clamp your mouth shut. The instinct to bite him is so strong that you can barely control it. And it only gets worse when he cocks his head to the side and moves his hair off his neck.

“I can't.”

“Yes you can. Please.”

“Elvis…” But it's beyond your control when he moves his thumb to your clit and he pushes you over the edge into another blinding climax. Your eyes darken and the next thing you know, you're sinking your fangs into him as he holds you in place and cums deep inside you. The sweet taste of his blood rushes over your tongue as his cock pulses inside you. The pleasure overwhelms both of you so deeply that for a second it feels like you black out. When you both come to, you're laying on the bed with your head down by his feet and his head by yours. You feel him grab your ankle and kiss it, a smile spreading across your face.

“You okay, baby?” He asks with his lips against your skin. You sit up and rearrange to be in his arms. He kisses your forehead and sighs deeply.

“I'm fine. Better than fine. Are you okay?” You look up at him but he keeps his eyes on the ceiling.

“Yeah, I'm… I love you.” You kiss his jawline.

“I love you too. What is it?” There's a pause as you watch him try to find the words to say what's on his mind. Eventually he just opens his mouth and it comes tumbling out.

“My baby girl is gonna die, isn't she?”

You lay together in silence and the thought hits him that at least he'll have you when it happens.

******

To be continued...

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Taglist:

@ccab @atleastpleasetelephone @aliypop @18lkpeters @dkayfixates @tacozebra051 @your-nanas-house @joshuntildawn13 @lookingforrainbows @60svintage @littlehoneyposts @epthedream69 @louisejoy86 @rjmartin11 @from-memphis-with-love @deltafalax @cinnamoroll-things @burnthheparaphilia @jhoneybees @cattcb @everythingelvispresley @returntopresley @searchingforgravity @msamarican @angschrof @lustnhim @polksaladava @librababe99 @hooked-on-elvis @theelvisprincess @makethemorning @peaceloveelvis @mrspresley69

[luvtak]

corona borealis, lfx

✧ genre/tw rambly soul-crushing fluff, one sweet kiss!!, lovely as a pet-name, felix being an undeniably sweet bf like always and hearing a bedtime story <3 , largely unedited.

✧ w/c 952 <3

✧ a/n definitely not brought on by asea felix are you kidding... he's so lovely i just had to dawdle on about it somewhere so here you go! also, the thought of telling lix a bedtime story makes me wanna cry i hope i'm not alone. mwah!!

His arm is hot around you, keeping you safe from the scary silhouettes the shadows bring, and the night is breathing. A group of you had come to this little campground for a night away from the city lights, and while the two of you are alone you can still hear the rest of the boy’s nighttime sounds mixing in with crickets and critters. 

Your boyfriend stands beside you, listening intently as you tell him stories of the stars. Usually, these tales come from the comfort of your bed–rustling under covers and speaking into his mouth, sharing breath and love until you fall asleep, tracing false shapes in the plastic stars adorning your ceiling. But tonight, under the cover of a too cold darkness you tell him his bedtime stories beneath the sky. 

His face is tilted up, looking to see where your fingers are pointing, and the soft glint in his midnight eyes makes you pause. You’ve never known someone who looked so alive, someone with a sun for a soul. Felix has the brightest smile you’ve ever seen, alight with joy and senseless mischief–eyes wide with wonder at the constellations rising above him. 

Looking at him is dizzying; that feeling when you put your arms out and spin so fast you fall, a carousel going so round and round. You feel like flying, rising up like the moment Icarus’ wings took him up and away. 

Sometimes you wonder if it’s normal to feel like this… if everyone in love feels as though they are the creator, the inventor of such depraved desire and compassion for another. Surely, you must be the first–no one else had felt Felix’s fingertips on their skin or his lips sweetly drinking them in. How could someone say they’ve encountered a deeper love than this when your sweetheart is the embodiment of love, Venus as a boy. 

He turns to you in your moment of hesitation, smiling at you with all the care in the world. He loves you endlessly, burns for you and the soft caress of your affection. You can tell he doesn’t know why you stopped speaking, but he’s happy just the same–sharing your space and time, living in this moment with you. He remembers the first time you told him a story, speaking the words softly, he thinks he fell in love right there. 

“What’s that one?” he asks, catching your still raised hand in his own. 

“Oh, it's a crown, see?” you can see his eyes tracing the points, finding the shape that connects the points together. “It’s Ariadne’s wedding tiara, she was a princess of Crete who helped Theseus slay her brother the Minotaur Asterion. After they escaped the labyrinth, the prince left her on the Island of Naxos where she was found by Dionysus,” 

“He left her there?!” he gasps, your sweet boy forever confused by ill intentions, even in a story. 

“Yeah, he’s so lame, right? Anyway, after the God finds her on his island they fall in love and eventually marry… the crown was her wedding present, and after she died Dionysus flung it into the sky to honor her.”

Felix is quiet for a long time after this, inhaling the story with all the deference you deserve. After every narrative he takes his time to think about how he feels about it: the first time you finished a movie with him and he was quiet for fifteen minutes before he told you he liked it, he is like that now. Quietly staring at the sky, not ignoring you for his hand still made its path up and down your arm and you know if you called his name he’d answer, but you don’t want to interrupt his silent seeking. 

His life is noisy, spirited, and wonderful in all the ways a beautiful boy like him creates, your infatuation came in chaos–in mindless chatter and kitchen counter dance parties, but you fell in love in silence. In the moments when the world was quiet and all you could hear was his heartbeat, the drawling intake of his lungs filling and releasing. You adore his voice, but just existing with him, sharing the same air would be lovely enough for a lifetime. 

Finally, after minutes of staring ahead, he speaks–softly but with no less intensity, 

“If something were to happen to you I would make you into a constellation.” 

His eyes, bright with longing stare into yours, and you know he’s not being funny. He means it with all of him, means it with every atom of his being. 

Shocked and in love with him you laugh, bursting with fondness never hidden. “I love you too,” you say, for you know that's what he means. A love that spills from his veins whenever he thinks of you, so massive and consuming that the words aren’t enough. “I’d make a constellation for you too, it’d be the prettiest one in the whole sky.” 

When he moves closer to you, you can feel the smile radiating on his shadowed face–sweeping his grin over the plane of your cheekbones. Scorching your skin where his lips touch, a traveling forest fire of kisses. When his journey ends, sliding his mouth over yours the flames grow, getting taller and taller as his caress goes deeper. 

The night is chilly, but there is no need for a coat when his arms are around you–sweeping you into his embrace with only the stars to watch. 

“Lets go to bed, lovely” he muttered, breathing through open-mouthed kisses and shared smiles. Leading you to where your tent lies, to where stories and sleep await you–love and life and dreams filled with him, your constellation of a boy. 

© LUVTAK 2024

[t0msvi4gra]

do a 2007 dom bill smut pleaaaaseeeee

YESSS!!!!

SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG IM SO SO SORRY

he looks so pretty here anyways

THE PARTY | DOM!BILL KAULITZ X FEMREADER

you were invited to a party by a friend who also happened to be bills friend as well. you kind of already knew him because of his band but your friend wanted you to meet him.

you dress in (choose your own outfit) and you do your makeup and you head to the party which was at your friends house.

you walk in and you hear blasting music and you squeeze through the crowd.

“f/n!” you call out her name and you see your friend talking to bill.

“hey y/n, this is bill… bill this is y/n.” she introduces you two and you both awkwardly wave at eachother.

“im gonna leave you two alone so you can chat.@ she winks at you and you roll your eyes but you smile softly when you look at bill.

“so… i know your band..” you say trying to start conversation. “yeah? i assume f/n told you huh?” he chuckles softly.

you nod and smile, “yeah… shes always talking about how i need to get a boyfriend and blah blah blah but… i just never have any luck.” you say sighing.

“well i dont see why? youre beautiful, im sure youre really smart… and youre really sweet.” he says softly handing you a drink.

as the party goes on, the people leave and your phone dies.

“shit…” you say as you stand outside.

bill comes up behind you. “whats wrong?”

“my damn phone is dead so i can’t buy an uber.” you sit down on the bench.

“you need to crash at my place?” he suggests smiling.

“thank you… you dont have to do that though.” you say trying to brush his request off.

“no its okay, come on.” you get in his car and you ride down the streets.

“when we get there, dont mind my brother, hes constantly fucking annoying and hes a perv so just dont freak out when you see him.” he warns

you chuckle and shrug. “he sounds… interesting.”

you get to his house and you get up to his room and you sit down on his bed.

“you can sleep in my bed if you dont want to sleep on the couch, just whatever makes you feel most home.” he nods and sits oddly close to you.

“mhm ill be okay here. its more comfortable.”

“do you wanna watch a movie?” he asks “uh sure i really like horror movies.” you smile a bit.

“me too honestly, which one do you wanna watch?” “i think the exorcist.. ive seen it so many times but i love it.” you smile and he puts the disc in.

into the movie, you jump at the jumpscares and you bury your head in his chest on accident.

after a moment you notice bill starts to get touchy.

“you know… youre kind of cute when youre scared…” he smirks down at you and his hands roam over your body. “bill..” you moan softly. he kisses you and you climb on top of him.

you both grind against eachother, feeling bill is hard and you kiss down his neck….

“fuck…” he moans as you kiss your way down his torso and you stop right under his belly button. “you mind?” you ask softly before he nods and you pull his underwear down.

“god you look so big.” you smile.

“fuck me baby. ride me.” he says lowly, as you sit up and you lube his cock with your wetness as you sink down onto his cock.

“fuck! bill..” you moan and gasp at his size.

he grabs your hips and helps you bounce up and down.

you grind and kiss him as your ride him.

“you feel amazing around me schatz.” he moan loudly as you bounce a bit faster.

“are you on the pill?” he asks as he feels himself about to cum.

“mhm… cum inside me… please come with me.” you whimper as your walls contract around him.

“come!” he groans and grunts words of pleasure as he cums inside you load after losd and your cum drips on his soft cock.

“god… that was… amazing.” he chuckles and you lay on him, sweating.

“can i stay here tonight? i dont want to be alone right now.” you asks softly.

“mhm of course. im here for you liebe.” he says kissing you.

[billyloomiswhore4]

Crazy for you | Chapter Four

Chapter four is here!!! send me requests for short drabbles and ill give you my take on it. i love when you guys ask me questions about my fics or send requests!!! anyways here it is.

Warnings: billy has a weird obsession with the way you smell, poor randy never gets the girl, smut next chapter!

-

He didn’t think he’d have to see you until third period, but when he steps into the hall after first period he sees you. You’re leaning against his locker, waiting for him.

He can’t stop thinking about the way you smelled. It was like vanilla body wash and honey, but with that underlying smell of girl. The one he smells on Sidney, but yours is different. It’s sweeter, more intoxicating.  He can’t get enough of it, god how he wants to just walk up to you and pull you into a hug, just so he can smell you again. It makes his head spin.

But he doesn’t instead he walks to his locker, attempting to ignore you. But you don’t move, and you don’t say anything, so he just ends up standing there next to his locker waiting for you.

“Hey?” he sounds confused, that's the games he’s decided to play, pretend like he was completely wasted.

“Hey.” Your voice sounds nervous, but still has anger laced in it. 

“You’re uh, standing in front of my locker.” He lets out a chuckle, and pretends not to know why you’re angry. 

“Yeah, I know.” You deadpan, eyes piercing daggers on his own. He stands there awkwardly for a moment, with his hands in his pockets. You suddenly say, “What are you playing at Billy?”

He stares at you for a moment, “What?”

“The other night? What was that?”  You’re outright angry now. He decides to put on a show for you. He sighs, and runs his hands through his hair. 

“I’m sorry, I don’t exactly remember what happened. I was kind of hammered.” He pushes out an awkward chuckle. 

“Oh,” Your face drops of all anger, and you seem embarrassed. “I’m sorry, I thought you- nevermind.” You push yourself off his locker and walk away. And he stares after you, a slight smirk on his lips. He praises himself in his mind for the act, and begins getting him stuff from his locker. 

–

The next time he sees you is actually third period. Usually you sit right next to him so you can pick his brain about whatever topic is the day's discussion. But today you sit on the other side of the classroom, next to Randy. It makes his heart ache, he loves your little talks. You always seem so interested in  what he has to say. Sidney never listens, she just talks to him and expects him to hang on to every word, he hates it and he hates her. 

He also hates Randy, especially when he’s looking at you like that. You seem deep in conversation with him, and when you laugh Billy clenches his fist. 

How could you be so oblivious, he understands why you can’t tell he likes you, he hides it. But Randy? He’s basically making heart eyes at you, and you have no idea. Sometimes he wishes he could just take what he wants, he’s impatient. But then he remembers the plan, and with the newfound information he received from your diary he knows it’s fool proof. 

He just needs to control himself, until tonight. They made a few changes to the plan last night, and it seems perfect. He just has to wait. 

You never realized Randy was so funny, but if you're being perfectly honest it seems like he saved up all his jokes and decided to just spew them at you all in one class. 

He says something stupid about the movie Halloween and you giggle, attempting to cover it up with your palm. He smiles, and flushes red when you put your hand on his arm to push him softly. 

Your smile fades quickly, “You okay there? You're really red.”

“Yeah- yeah I'm good, just a little hot.” He sputters, and his voice cracks at the end. He laughs it off and you smile at him and continue your conversation.�� 

—

The school day passes quicker than normal, lunch was a bore and before you know it you’re sitting in your bed, watching some random horror movie. You had just finished writing in your diary, which was conveniently placed on your bed when you came home from school. At around eight pm you hear the phone start ringing downstairs. 

You get up, slip on your fluffy slippers and make your way down the stairs. The phone is on its last ring by the time you answer it. 

“Hey Sid.” You recognize the number. Billy stands in the woods right behind your house, waiting for the perfect moment. He and Stu fought for hours for who to be the one to do it, eventually Stu caved.

Sid said something over the phone, but Billy knew he’d be seeing her tonight too. 

“No, I think I'm just gonna stay home tonight, but have fun with Tate.” You smile into the phone, and for a second Billy thinks he might faint.

You hang up, and set the phone down, turning and walking back to the stairs. The phone rings again, this time you huff, turning back to the phone. You answer, and say, “I told you, Sid. I don’t wanna hang out tonight.” 

“Oooo, trouble in paradise?” the modulated voice teases. 

A smile breaks out on your face. “Well hello, mr ghostface.” You tease back.

“Hey, princess.” He grins behind the mask.He said it less sultry than before, not wanting to scare you off again. 

“What are you doing?” You ask, playing with your hair. 

“Watching you..i’ve decided i’m gonna play with you tonight.” 

“Oh yeah?” Your voice comes out light and breathless.

“Hide and seek. Go unlock the back door, and then go hide somewhere.” You unlock the door and hold the phone to your ear. 

“How do I know you won’t cheat?”

“Oh princess, Y’know I don’t play fair.”

You laugh at that, hanging up and making your way upstairs. You wiggle underneath your bed. 

You hear him making his way up the stairs, heavy footsteps booming through the house. He passes your bedroom door, and then stops. You slap a hand over your mouth to quiet your breathing. 

The footsteps track back to your door, and your bedroom door opens, light flooding in from the hall. Billy ‘tsk’s to himself, wondering how stupid you could be to hide in your own bedroom.  But maybe you want him to find you? 

The footsteps trail into your room, but then slowly make their way out of the room. You let out a sigh of relief. 

Suddenly something is wrapping around your ankles and yanking you out from underneath the bed. You find yourself turning onto your back in the struggle, and your giggles are immediately silenced. He’s holding a giant knife, and he immediately presses it to your throat.

“Found you.”

taglist: @tzkyo @buzzybee-26 @brazilianneighbour @sammanna @wickedsandwich08 @bdhwiqbwo @roygbivvie @dixxhotgirl2 @iiheartbowie @ashreblogsnow @snailwithaheart @ihbofjastmne @alexa-33 @adaydreamaway08 @zeysartzone @your-daily-envy

[phagodyke]

actually adding onto this the constant jokes abt how eventually I'm going to "end up trans" (bc most of the ppl in our friend group have transitioned) do rly get under my skin which is the only reason I said smth about it.

in a hilarious turn of events my flatmate didn't even know I use any pronouns....

[unknownteapot]

In light of Courtney mentioning they would possibly want to direct a movie some day during the Q+A, what do you think a Smosh movie would look like with this current cast? Would it be similar to the original Smosh Movie? I'm imagining something similar to Smost the Sitcom Live, like a sitcom comedy maybe? Anyway you don’t have to answer, I’m just curious 🤗

anon, you are NOT ready i was BORN for this question and i'm about to type up a storm so strap in!! thank you for sending it in!!! me being a yapper + film student is not boding well for me rn...

i completely see what you mean about a sitcom/comedy type thing, their vibes during ssl were immaculate, but i also think if they *were* ever going to make a movie it'd be something vastly different from what they've done before just to keep it fresh and give people something never seen before. which is why..

i propose to you: a horror comedy about the cast getting stuck at the smosh office overnight (more below the cut)

hear me out HEAR ME OUT god im so passionate about this. this type of premise would avoid the cast having to play characters per se, they'd kind of just play 'themselves' so it's easier for the existing smosh fanbase to transition to this new movie format without it feeling gimicky/overproduced- the movie begins with just a typical end-of-video outro into the camera for smosh games (maybe only main cast and not freelance? bc full cast might be too many people for a movie idk) and then cuts out to the cast getting off the soundstage like hehe good shoot whatever whatever. but. wait a second. why is it past midnight?? quickly they're realising everyone's gone and its WAY late and they're locked in. all the clocks have stopped around the office. phones are all out of service (but show a weird little digital snake symbol as foreshadowing to something ;)

so now they're like uh-oh. what the fuck do we do. and promptly the cast splits into groups/pairs that all deal with this in their own way the movie would cut back and forth between. maybe amanda and angela deciding to steal alcohol from the kitchen and then snoop on people's desks?? finding out ian has a love locket of anthony in his drawer?? damien grows mushrooms under his desk??? olivia collect's people's candy wrappers?????? idk it could be ANYTHING which makes thsi SO FUNNY to me

BUT this is where the horror comes in, because suddenly people start going missing. and its not fun and games at all. the air feels weird, its like 3 am, everyone's losing their shit a little bit. they start regrouping to see who they can find "hey have you guys seen Angela?" "No, but Courtney just went missing too." "Guys I don't feel well.." AND LITTLE BY LITTLE. THEY START SEEING APPARITIONS. SMOSH CHARACTERS. WHO HAUNT THEM.

like i'm sorry. tell me it would NOT be hilarious for Mental Illness to come haunt the cast in an eerie ghost form??? Augustus??? insulting the cast (but hitting truths about them) making them think about their life decisions??? COURTNEY FREAKING MILLER???? JUST YELLING???? TELEPORTING AROUND THEM AND SCARING THE SHIT OUT OF THEM>?>>>>??? god the jumpscares they could do with this insane INSANE. BIZANKA???????????????? im

BUT NOT JUST SMOSH CHARACTERS- fnaf characters in their eerie ass suits, chica demanding Amanda why she held the door so hard that one time and didn't let her in meanwhile everyone is terrified and somewhat sobbing

so now its CHAOS, they're trying to stick together to avoid getting haunted, they're trying to find their missing friends, they're running around to the footsteps of animatronics, when suddenly they find a door to some storage closet open. they walk in.

there they are!!!! all their missing friends lying passed out on the floor and.. what's this strange hissing noise and why is it kinda foggy in there.. "Oh my god!" Amanda yells out in relief that none of this was real (or was it), "There's a gas leak at the smosh office!" And then promptly passes out. So do they all. THE END.

maybe a post-credits scene of ian and anthony coming into the office in the morning and finding a MESS and them all passed out like god. we gotta put baby gates in here or some shit. they keep messing stuff up!! OR BETTER. they dont know about the cast at first and look at each other with knowing smirks like "wanna go get high :)" and then they head towards where all their friends are passed out and we find out it was actually their secret 'gas leak' spot where they get high on the regular from the gas. ian pouting like "damnit. they found our secret spot :(" anthony shruggs like "oh well" and then they prance around the room trying to huff the gas like idiots and also pass out.

more insane ideas idk how to incorporate yet:

a comedic bit where Amanda bonds with Chica from fnaf and reads her tarot cards (amanda would SO be the person to chat her up after getting over her initial fear and be like 'hey, you just need love, honey. i get it, we've all been there') and its this insane horror yet adorable moment where these two world collide?? BONUS: if the rest of the cast hide in a corner and look at her like "how is she doing this???"

Tim the IT guy actually turning out to be a hologram that haunts all the computers with snake graphics (from that one smoffice sketch 'it could happen to any one of us!') and actually gets his energy from sucking out ram from people's devices

Props and shit moving!!! just so much potential

INNOVATIVE FORMAT:

AND a great way to introduce horror elements could be through this whole 'found footage' thing- you know how in some movies you find like someone's security cam recording etc etc. they could SO integrate elements of that because the smoffice is primarily for content creation so there's LOTS of cameras everywhere

"Hey uh.. guys I think this camera's still rolling." And its us watching footage of that room through it MASTERFUL. or people recording tiktoks and we watch through their screen recording but we see stuff in the background moving before they do YEAH. the HORROR OF IT. god i love movies

okay for everyone's sanity i will now stop i was actually not expecting to type this much- anon who sent this ask, i owe you everything!! im now obsessed with this idea i wish this was real w o w