#i was so satisfied when i left the movie theater
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fantasylandbitch · 2 months ago
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If anyone is planning to watch "Your Monster" welp....buckle up when you go to see it this weekend.
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littleprinces · 6 months ago
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My Nana
Wooah Nana x M! Reader
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On Saturday, after my second month of getting to know Nana, a Woo!Ah! leader, I went to Seoul where Nana lives, even though I live on busan. It’s quite far. I called Nana to watch a movie at her movie theatre. I was very lucky because she agreed. After watching the movie, I was about to leave, but Nana insisted that I go to her dorm, which is about 150 meters from Movie Theater. I agreed. When we arrived at her dorm, it was empty, so it was just the two of us.
I didn't let this opportunity slip away. I used all my tricks to seduce her, and fortunately, my tricks worked. I started with a kiss. Gradually, I began to lick her ear, and my hands started to squeeze her voluptuous breasts. Nana seemed to enjoy it, so I dared to unbutton her shirt, revealing her bra. She was wearing a light blue bra, and I continued to unhook it while kissing her passionately. Finally, her nipples, which were somewhat reddish, were visible. I played with my tongue and licked her voluptuous breasts, sucking on her nipples. Nana moaned and said,
"Stop, someone might come in." I ignored her and continued to play with my tongue around her tits while my right hand started to explore her forbidden area.
I felt her pussy getting wet, so I inserted my finger into her vagina and stirred it. Nana moaned with pleasure and didn't want to be left out. She unbuttoned my pants and started to squeeze my already hard cock. She stroked it slowly while we continued to kiss passionately.
told her to suck my cock, but at first, she refused. I suggested the 69 position with her on top. I started licking her wet vagina clean.
"Oh, don't, Nana, I can't take it anymore."
I said, "Don't what, Nana, don't hesitate."
I kept licking, and eventually, I felt a thick liquid flowing from her pussy. She must have had an orgasm. I continued to lick vigorously until she felt an indescribable mixture of ticklishness and pleasure. I told her to suck my cock again, and this time she didn't object. First, I told her to lick from my testicles and then continue to suck up to the head of my penis. I told her to lick and suck. It felt incredibly good, man.
After satisfying myself, I began to feel the warmth of Nana's pussy Then I directed my hard big cock towards her wet vagina. Nana resisted and closed her vagina with her hand. I asked why, Nana? She said she didn't want it to go that far. I was a bit annoyed. Then I flirted again and pulled her hand away so her vagina wasn't covered. I tried again.
"Don't, Oppa! I'm still a virgin, and I don't want to give it to you, what if my boyfriend finds out?"
I asked, "Do you really have a boyfriend?"
She said her boyfriend was still in Australia.
I was confused, "What should I do now, Nana? I can't hold it anymore... I might pee stones later."
Nana said, "Well, just go to the supermarket bathroom."
I laughed, "Hey, your boyfriend might be loyal there, looking for other girls. He can also be fair, right?"
Nana's nodded
I slid my cock inside her, and she let out a loud moan. I started to fuck her slowly at first, but she wanted more.
'ahh oppa, you are so big'
'Yes Nana ahhhh'
She wrapped her legs around me and pulled me deeper inside her. I could feel myself getting closer to climax, but I didn't want it to end.
I pulled out and turned her over. I wanted to breed her from behind, to make her mine. I slid back inside her, and she let out a loud moan. I started to fuck her harder and faster, and I could feel myself getting closer to the edge.
I pulled out and turned her over. I wanted to breed her from behind, to make her mine. I slid back inside her, and she let out a loud moan. I started to fuck her harder and faster, and I could feel myself getting closer to the edge.
I could tell she was close too. She was moaning and gasping, telling me to fuck her harder. I could feel her pussy tightening around my cock, and I knew she was about to cum. I stroked her clit as I fucked her, and she let out a loud moan as she came.
I couldn't hold back any longer. I pulled out and came all over her ass. I could feel her body shaking as she came again, and I knew I had satisfied her.
We lay there for a few minutes, catching our breath. I could feel her body pressed against mine, and I knew I had found something special. I knew I had found someone I could spend the rest of my life with.
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igotanidea · 1 year ago
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Jealous :J.T. x fem!reader
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Summary/idea: by @littleprettykitten:
Suddenly i have an urge to ride Jason Todd, marking his neck with bite marks and scratching his chest, all jealous and possessive because someone was flirting with him. I want that hunk of a man mewling under me, saying my name like a prayer and telling me how much he loves me. I want bruises on my hips because he was clutching them too tightly and his teeth on my breasts and shoulders because that was the only way he could muffle sounds he was making.
So, here it is.....
Warnings: SMUT MINORS DNI!
***
„You know, usually it’s me who make you jealous like that. ….” She whispered grinding her hips more into him, causing a groan to escape his throat.
“I didn’t….”
“Sh, baby.” She pecked his lips, lightly, teasingly, pressing her body closer to his, nibble fingers running around his abs, chest and shoulders, barely touching, igniting his fire and the need for more “don’t talk….. just feel me….”
Barely a few hours ago they left the house, finally finding some time for the long-overdue date. The plan was simple – movie and dinner. Just spending time together with no rush, no fighting criminals, no patching wounds.
Well, it did not exactly go as it was supposed to.
Sure, they get to the movie theater, but from that, the things started to go downhill, making the date less than romantic.
“Can you go and buy the tickets, Jay? I’ll just take a quick stop by the bathroom.”
“Sure, princess. You go and powder your nose or whatever else you have to do.”
So she went. And when she came back, there was a unfamiliar girl talking to Jason and fucking twirling the strand of the hair on her finger, making doe eye at Y/N’s boyfriend, giggling in a way-too-friendly way.
“Are you here alone?” the girl smiled, putting a hand on his biceps. “It’s such a coincidence I am too. And I could really use some company. “
“I’m not really interested.” He muttered, moving away from her touch. Y/N was the only person in the whole world that were allowed to get this close to him.
“Why not? You seem like you are in need of a girl’s attention. Clearly you are touch starved and I know how to take care of a man.”
“I actually got a girlfriend.” He hissed
“ Really? She’s not doing much of a good job then” the girl laughed “besides, I don’t see her.”
“turn around!” Y/N called from behind, silent fury on her face as the girl spun and looked her up and down “now you see her.”
“I don’t see much.” The girl smirked, but before Y/N could start a fight, Jason stood up from his seat, wrapped an arm around her waist and led her straight toward the screening room, whispering soft, reassuring words in her ear and caressing her skin gently. That did not, however, stop Y/N from turning her head and throwing the daggers at that freak who dared to even come close to her Jason. She just smirked vindictively and both girls knew what that was supposed to mean. 
He’s going to be mine.
Well, over Y/N’s dead body.
Much to Y/N’s displeasure, the girl entered the same room and took a seat right next to  them. Oh, great, now the movie might as well not even exist. The only thing Y/N was able to concentrate on now was the smell of too much used perfume, slight, flirty giggling and annoying whispering.
“You know, I think you could play the main role in that movie” the girl whispered, not even trying to hide what she was saying to Jay “you are so much more handsome than the lead….”
“Could you just stay quiet?” he mumbled
“And so well-build” the girl continued, touching his chest “all muscles, so hot.”
“Will you stop this? I told you I’m not interested.”
“Come on, sunshine. You have a chance to take me home. Aren’t you at least a bit interested how it could be with someone who’s open to some experimentation? Not all vanilla?”
“What the fuck are you talking about?”
“Your girl, obviously. I know she can’t satisfy a man like you.”
“What the….”
“Enough!!” finally Y/N snapped and jumped to her feet, getting some shouting and cussing about disturbing the peace. Well she couldn’t care less.
“Y/N, baby, please sit down and try to relax….” Jason tried to calm her down, but she was past that. Her eyes were burning with rage and fury, possessiveness of him finding the way out.
“Relax? She’s trying to seduce you!”    
“And clearly it’s working” the girl laughed.
“Do you want to take this outside you little…..?!” before Y/N could finish that sentence one of the cinema worker appeared behind them and, well, to say the least, kicked them out. Awesome. One hell of  a date.
But frankly, it gave Y/N the opportunity to drag Jason back to their place and that’s how he ended up splayed on the bed with her straddling his lips and riding him like crazy, not allowing him to take any action or even a single breath.
“Baby….. princess…..” he whined grabbing on her hips and trying to force her to move faster. The slow, punishing pace she set was slowly making him crazy.  “please…. Don’t tease me. You know that girl there did not….”
“She was fucking flirting with you!” she hissed, pushing his hands away, pining them by his sides and slowing down even more making him throw head back in frustration “and you’re mine.” Leaning forward she started kissing his exposed neck, licking and biting hard enough to form a hickey. The sign of belonging.  In the most visible place he would never be able to hide. “I want you to remember that.”
“Y/N…..” he panted, once again trying to grab her hips, but being too whiny and putty and weak because of all her actions. He never needed to say a thing, the sounds, the groans and moans he was making telling her how much pleasure she was giving him. But…. She was possessive. She wanted more from him and wasn’t going to let go until he was completely falling apart beneath her. She wanted to make a mess out of him to the point where all he wanted was her , her body, her touches. She wanted to wipe the thought of the rest of the female race off his mind. He was supposed to think only about her.
“Do you want me to bond you?” her right hand started tracing patterns on his chest “cause I know how to do that my pretty boy. Unless you behave….”
“No…. no, please….. Ah, I ….. I want …. Y/N……”
“I love it when you say my name like that, Jaybrid.” She whispered in his ear, picking on the pace, skin slapping on skin, echoing through the empty, dark room.
“Y/N….” he whimpered, wanting more, more, more, but unable to ask her for it, settling on anything she would give him. Consumed by her. By the lust and need. And yet, still holding back. The way his face was twisting in pleasure, his eyes fluttering close, his breath hitching and how he was biting on his lower lip was telling her that he was fighting to conceal all the sounds she needed. Well not a chance.
“What do you want love?” one way or another, she was going to get them out. No matter the cost. And if biting on his earlobe, scratching his chest, grinding and circling the hips to create different angle and pushing past his limits was the way to achieve that she was not opposed to.  
“You…. I want you. Please…. So bad. More. More, please…”
“Tell me you love me.”
“I fucking love you. I love you. I am yours. Please, please…..Y/N. Y/n love, let me touch you. ”
“Jason…..” she whispered seductively, groping his pecks  “Jason…..” she was strong and the jealousy definitely spur on her dominant side, but she was still just a woman. With needs. And with her perfect man whining and begging for her.  And her control was slowly slipping. Slightly. “Yes. Touch me.” suddenly his hands were free, clutching her sides, pressing her closer, faster, further. Going in deeper, hitting that one spot where she needed him most.
“Ah!” it was now her turn to let out a moan. “Jason….”
“Y/N,….. Y/N…..” he chanted like a prayer, propping himself up, arms traveling to her back, trapping her  “I love you, I love you…. you….fuck,  so good.” Their sweaty bodies clung to each other almost like with glue, reaching for any part of each other they could possibly reach.
“Just good, huh?” she smirked, tangling fingers in his hair, pulling gently “just good?” her hot breath fanned over his sweaty, reddened face.
“Fucking perfect” he bit on her shoulder trying to muffle another groan and she shivered in pain and pleasure combined, tightening the grip on him, her hips moving on their own accord in the pace the legs were barely able to withstand. But she was far from giving up. She was going to catch her high.  
“Say my name again.” she commanded, breathily, being so close to the release. So fucking close. “I want to hear you say it.”
“Y/N.” his mouth travelled down her body, kissing her collarbone and sinking teeth in her the soft flesh of her breast, soothing the stinging pain with his tongue.
“Again!” she screamed throwing head back “Again!”
“Y/N. Mine. “
“Yes! Yes!” she screamed, holding him tighter “Jace, baby, god, please!” she was not going to let go before pushing him past his breaking point “Cum with me. Cum with me now! I fucking need you to cum! Inside, please, baby. Fill me!”
“Y/N!” at the end, overwhelmed by the feeling of her pussy clenching around him, his lustful brain finally helped him find enough strength to snap his hips against her, squeezing her hips tight enough to leave purple hand-shaped bruised.  “baby, my baby, my girl, my love.” He pressed his lips against her, kissing her frantically, with urgency and clashing teeth, throwing all his load inside her. So fucking deep, her entire body spasming in his embrace, nails clawing on his back, becoming one, not sure where he ended and she begun or the other way round.
“Y/N….” he panted pulling back and leaning his forehead on hers once his balls were empty and his cum was dripping from her pussy. “Baby….”
“You’re mine.” she managed to say “Mine. You hear me? Mine”
“Were you that jealous?” he raised an eyebrow
“Maybe. Maybe not. but fuck, you are just so hot whining underneath me.”
“I liked you on top.” He whispered leaning his head and pecking her lips gently, still keeping her in his embrace, their breaths slowly coming even.
“Really? Her eyes widened in surprise. “I mean of course you did. I am a fucking goddess.”
“Yes.” His flushed cheeks made this tank of a man look like a little, shy boy and damn, she loved that. She adored being the only one to make him this soft and submissive.
“We gotta do this more often than.”
@jasontoddsthickbabe - please forgive me, but I thought about tagging you.
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bonesxbows · 6 months ago
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Act Naturally - Chapter 1 (Cooper Howard X Reader)
Masterlist
While exploring an old section of Hollywood, the two of you stumble upon an old advertisement for a cowboy movie. But the man on the poster looks suspiciously a lot like Cooper, even down to the same smile. But it couldn't possibly be him...right?
(WARNINGS) - anger issues - negative self talk (from Cooper not you)
I feel like I dragged this on for way longer than it needed to be BUT it's a done thing now and tbh I'm pretty happy with it. I fucking adore soft Cooper moments and idc if I have to write them all myself
Also! This idea came from @land-of-evergreens-and-dye so full credit to them for letting me stew on this prompt
Hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it! Reblogs and comments much appreciated!
Banners by @strangergraphics
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The two of you had found yourselves in an old section of Hollywood. It had been so long since Cooper had told you his reason for bringing you here that you’d forgotten what his motivation for this excursion was. Although it didn’t really matter to you, you’d follow him anywhere whether he wanted you to tag along or not. There was no separating you two. Not anymore. 
Most of the buildings had been boring to scavenge through, if you could even find a way inside at all. Not much was left of the boulevard besides dusty sidewalks and rusting billboards. But one building in particular piqued your interest. It had a larger facade than all the rest where small billboard-like signs hung above the wide double doors. Broken and busted bulb lights framed the signs and the rows of black lettering were missing far too many letters to be able to read it clearly. What letters you could make out only baffled you more than the strange-looking building did. 
‘Co - How - Starr - in - Th - M - Fr - Dea - Horse’
“Horse? What’s a horse?” you asked out loud, more to yourself than to him. He usually never listened to your mid-exploring ramblings, though he never did tell you to stop. You turned around to find him staring up at the old sign too, although his brow was creased and a scowl was stuck on his face. You placed a hand on his shoulder and he turned to you, his expression softening as his eyes shifted to looking at you instead. 
“You wanna check inside there, don’ you?” He asked. 
You nodded and gave him a small smile. “Can we? Please? I’ve never seen any place like it before.” 
“Hm. ‘Spose we can. But make it quick alright?” He checked his pistol’s ammunition levels and flipped the barrel back into place once he was satisfied. You led the way forward, pushing the swinging doors inward as Cooper was right behind you, pistol in hand and trigger finger ready. 
He was a little disappointed when the place appeared to be empty. But the feeling didn’t last, he couldn’t stay upset as he watched you scurry around the place, your eyes wide with fascination. The interior was even more astonishing to you than the exterior had been. Rows of folding booth-like chairs covered the majority of the floor, their fabric exterior faded and torn, and in the back of the building was a wooden stage. Ragged old curtains framed the blank wall behind the stage where its faded white paint chipped and peeled off the plaster. There wasn’t much hiding between the rows of chairs besides dust and sand but you still kept your hopes high that the rest of the building would hold something worthwhile. 
“What is this place? Some kind of shooting gallery?” you asked, your wasteland-born intelligence of pre-war places was lacking, but fortunately for you, Cooper liked you enough to fill you in on what knowledge you didn't have. 
He chuckled at your observation. He supposed a shooting gallery was just about the closest thing you could get to a theater these days. “Not ‘xactly, sweetheart. It was used for movies, picture shows, that kinda thing. A place where folks could feign ignorance ‘bout the end of the world fast approachin’ on their heels.” 
“Movies? Like the kind on those busted-up televisions?” you continued to explore around as you talked. He followed you, keeping an eye out for anything out of the ordinary that could be dangerous while you focused on the useful and exciting things you could find. 
“Mmhm. Just like those. Never endin’ loops of fairytale stories kept alive by people long gone by now.” he explained, and you ended the conversation after that. His voice was strained and scruffy, meaning he was either remembering something he wanted to forget or he was getting agitated. Either way, you knew it was in your best interest to stop asking questions. 
Things got progressively more interesting when you discovered the back rooms of the building. The first one had been large, with dusty velvet ropes leading to a counter filled with food machines and nuka-cola dispensers, you’d come back here to scavenge all the food you could carry with you on your way out, but the hallways and storage rooms were what really piqued your attention. 
Posters lined the wooden walls of the hallways, the plaster that had once surrounded them now nothing more than dust on the ground. The paper was old, torn, and extremely faded, even with the lack of sunlight in the place. The color was all but gone from the paper, but you could still make out the words if you squinted hard enough. 
“Cooper Howard Starring in The Man From Dead Horse.” The letters matched up with the ones from outside but yet you were still baffled on what exactly a horse was. The poster had no other information to help clarify, although you found it interesting that the man on the paper supposedly shared your cowboy’s name. 
“Huh.” You exclaimed as you studied the pictures. 
“What?” Cooper called after you, pulling his attention only slightly away from the containers he was looting around the place, looking for spare ammo or anything else that was useful. 
“Nothing. Just something about these posters. Are these about those movies you were talking about?”  you asked, which had him turning around to examine the poster along with you. The only response he gave you was a short grunt, which you knew translated to a yes. You shifted your eyes back to the paper on the wall. Most of the color may have been gone but you could still make out a blue shirt on a man with a white cowboy hat on top of his head. He stood in a pose with his revolver in the air and his other hand on his hip. He wore a smirk on his face that felt familiar and something in the back of your mind itched like you had seen this all before…somewhere. But you couldn't pinpoint the memory. 
When you turned back around Cooper was already gone down the hallway so you hurried to follow him, tearing your eyes from the poster but keeping your mind on the nagging feeling it left you with. Maybe if you turned the picture over in your head enough times the memory you were looking for would click, or so you hoped. 
His attitude had significantly changed after you found that poster. He became more on edge and that gruff exterior he had when you had first met him was back. He rushed through the rest of the building, seemingly not caring if you were behind him or not. By the time you caught up with him, he was shoving his way back out through the swinging front doors. You could see the finger on his pistol’s trigger starting to twitch. You followed him outside and down the road a way until he stopped in front of the first billboard he saw. 
Like everything else in the wasteland, the colors were gone and the picture was faded, but you could clearly tell it had been an advertisement for Vault-Tec before the bombs. Cooper didn’t hesitate to unload every round in his revolver through the billboard. Pieces of wood and metal went flying and you instinctively covered your face, listening to the bullet casings and wood chips hit the concrete around you. He eventually ran out of bullets, although you could still hear him clicking the trigger. Once the gun sounded empty you lowered your arms again, examining the now hole-riddled Vault Boy on the billboard. Cooper’s face still held a nasty scowl. 
“You got a personal vendetta with Vault-Tec I don't know about or something? What just happened?” you asked. If you were anyone else he would have filled you with lead just for asking a question right then and there. He was currently too angry to deal with stupidity. But he would never purposefully hurt you, that was one line he refused to cross in his mind. But unknowingly to you your words only fueled his anger more. 
“Shut it. Let’s go. I’m sick of this place.” he snapped, his usual drawl and accent missing and replaced by venom in his words. He quickened his pace out of the block of streets and you followed him, but you kept your distance to a minimum of a few feet at least for the remainder of the trek. 
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It had been a few hours since Cooper’s outburst and the two of you had set up camp for the night inside of an old diner. He had seemed to calm down a little but he had set himself up in the corner of a booth with his hat pulled down over his eyes and his feet kicked up on the table in front of him. Which left you alone with your thoughts in front of his makeshift campfire. You watched the sun sink below the horizon as you replayed the earlier events of the day over and over in your head, still trying to connect the dots. You stared at Cooper, his supposedly sleeping form leaning against the worn material of the diner booth, hoping that if you focused on him hard enough you could will the connection in your mind to click. 
And then the realization hit you like a lightning bolt, your eyes pulling all of the pieces together in front of you as you stared at his hat and the rough skin poking out from underneath it. 
You sprang up from your seat on the ground, sliding yourself into the booth on the other side of the table in front of him. He didn't seem to notice until you reached over and yanked his cowboy hat off of his head with one swift motion. His eyes shot open and immediately landed on you. 
“Can’t a ghoul get some shut-eye ‘round here without you botherin’ him?” he scoffed, pulling himself up into a sitting position and turning to face you across the table. You didn’t respond and instead placed his hat on the table in front of you, staring at him with full intent. He was unbothered underneath your intense gaze, either he was used to being stared at or knew you weren’t much of a threat to him. “I got somethin’ in my teeth or is this a new hobby of yours I don’ know about?” he asked, your silence was irking him more than your constant staring. 
You let your eyes do all the work and your imagination filled in the blanks, pulling both images in your head together; the man from the poster and the man sitting in front of you. His dirty blue shirt peaking out from underneath his duster confirmed your suspicion. 
“You’re him.” was all you said as the realization set in. 
“Pardon?”
“You're him! From the poster earlier! That's why he looked so familiar!” your excitement was getting hard to contain. You had known Cooper was from before the bombs but you hadn’t known he was THAT Cooper Howard. 
“Darlin’, I have no idea what you’re on about. You best forget ‘bout that whole theater ‘fore you go and stir up trouble.” he told you, folding his arms in front of him on the table as his brow darkened his eyes. 
“What’s the big deal, Coop? Why didn’t you tell me? Is that why you rushed out of there so quickly?” you spoke quickly, the questions flooding out of your mouth faster than you had intended. 
“Hmph. ‘What’s the big deal?’ The ‘big deal’ is that man is dead. Has been for over 200 years. I ain’t keen on bringin’ him back neither. His optimism and gullibility got him killed and that was the end of that. I’m done rememberin’ the sorry excuse I got for a past. Reminiscing don’ keep you alive for long.” his western accent was tangled together with poison as he spat out his words. But his scary looks didn’t work on you anymore. 
“Maybe, but you’re still him, Coop. You’ve adapted to the wasteland but you’re still you. Roughed up and scarred a little, sure, but who isn’t?” you told him, doing your best to keep your voice soft to combat his spitefulness. 
“A little? Sweetheart, I’m a damn monster, everyone out ‘ere thinks so. Whatever was left of good ol’ Cooper Howard died when this here skin started fallin’ off. I’m done bein’ nice in a world that does nothin’ but kicks you when you’re down.” 
“I don’t think you're a monster.” 
It was one sentence, just a few words, but it made him pause. His scowl vanished for a few seconds and was replaced by a look of confusion. There was a small smile tugging at his lips too, if you were quick enough to notice it before it was gone. He sighed and leaned back against the booth. 
“Well then that’s one hell of a lapse of judgment on your part sweetheart.” he hooked his hands together and put them behind his head, cradling the back of his neck as he closed his eyes again and leaned further into the booth. But you weren't done with the conversation just yet. 
You got up, grabbed his hat off of the table, and shifted yourself into the booth he was sitting in. You looked at him and then looked down at his hat in your hands. A relic from over two centuries ago, covered in sand and caked in dirt. But still a working and functioning cowboy hat. It protected its wearer from the harsh sun and there was a sense of safety woven somewhere in between the fibers. Broken and beaten and even dirtied beyond repair, it was still a hat. And Cooper was still a person. 
You climbed on top of the table, being careful not to accidentally kick him with your feet as you positioned yourself in front of him and placed a leg on either side of his body. You placed his hat in its rightful place on top of his head, making him open his eyes again when he felt your touch. He looked up at you curiously, fully not expecting you to be on the table in front of him. You reached down and grabbed both of the lapels of his duster, balling the fabric up in your fists as you pulled him forward and smashed your lips into his. You were quick with your movements, something you had learned from being around Cooper so much recently, which left little to no time for him to react or protest against your sudden affection. 
Although he didn't seem to mind. His hands found their way to your hips almost automatically and he slipped them under your shirt, grabbing at your soft skin roughly. Tomorrow morning you would have bruises all over your hips in the shape of his fingertips, but it happened so often now that the purples and blues were a permanent part of you. You had started this impromptu makeout session but he was determined to finish it. His tongue worked fervidly like he was mapping the constellations in the night sky across the inside of your mouth. He never once gave you the chance to take the lead and he was as quick as a viper to wrangle back control when you tried to take it yourself. At some point he had shifted his hands underneath you and scooped you off the table, sliding you right into his lap while still keeping a strong grip on you, never once slowing down with his tongue. Your legs were forced to wrap around him, your bodies now flush against each other in the booth. 
It wasn’t long after he had pulled you closer that you had to pull away, panting and taking gulps of air. You finally let go of his jacket as you leaned back against the table, feeling the metal edge digging into your back as you did so. 
“You know for a so-called ‘monster’ you sure know how to make someone feel breathless.” You told him as you admired the way he was smirking at you. Ironically it was the exact same smirk from that old poster of him, although you noticed he had shifted from that old-school charming look to now one that held an aura of danger around him. 
“Hm. Well, now I’ve never been the type to pass up an opportunity when it’s handed to me. ‘Specially if it ends with somethin’ pretty sittin’ in my lap.” his grip on your hips was still ironclad as his eyes raked over you. His stare felt similar to a hunter stalking its prey. You knew what he was doing, trying to convince himself he was right by acting like a predator, but you knew the truth underneath the facade. You had seen firsthand how he had cared for you and looked after you even when he stood to gain nothing in return. 
“Whether the old Cooper is dead or not doesn’t change the fact that I love this, right here, right now. Whatever led to you being my cowboy, I wouldn’t change a thing.” you ran your fingers up his chest as you spoke, fiddling your way underneath the collar of his cowboy costume to run your fingertips along the raised edges of his scarred skin. He sat back and let you touch him, not making any move to try and stop you. He’d let you do anything your little heart desired. He was your cowboy, he knew that, and yet two hundred years ago he would have never imagined meeting someone like you. He’d be damned if he would let anything happen to you, you were the only good thing he had left in this fucked up world. He refused to let anything else be taken from him. 
“Whatever you say, sweetheart,” he mumbled as he brushed a strand of your hair behind your ear, relishing in the way the soft cartilage felt against his marred fingertips. He ran the very tip of his finger against the edge of your ear, earning a tilt of your head as a response to the sensation. 
“Cooper?” you asked, making his eyes flick to yours. He noticed you had pulled your hand out from under his shirt and instead, you had placed it on top of his chest, mindlessly fumbling with the ancient fringe attached to the front. 
“Hm?” 
“I still have one question,” you told him, knitting your brows together in curiosity. 
“I’m listenin’.” he had been so enraptured by your affection that he had no idea what to anticipate, especially when your face had turned so serious. 
“What even is a horse, anyway?”
It took him a great deal of effort to stifle his laughter. 
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jumpingjoltiks · 1 month ago
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Would you consider writing some enemies to lovers with Emmet or Ingo? 🥲
YES!! I WOULD LOVE TO.
Dearly Detested
Pairings: Emmet x gn!Reader
Warnings: None :)
You and Emmet have known each other since you were both in school - Rival Classmates
While you're both equally intelligent and passionate about battling, you have better social skills then he does. and it pisses him off.
No matter whether he beats you in a battle or not, your classmates still side with you. It isn't fair!
In your mind, this uppety jerk has been far too blunt with you. He's insulted your battle strategies, insisted that bug types (ugh, ew!) are the best, and has generally been a pest demanding battles from you.
Thankfully, once you're old enough, you're able to part ways and go on your separate journeys. You both breathe a sigh of relief at never having to see the other again.
Cut to many years later, you've just started work in Nimbasa, and who do you happen to see on a local billboard - surely it couldn't be that smug bastard and his shithead twin?! No way they're so successful!
Oh you have to beat him in battle.
You pick out the strongest members of your team and start to challenge the double lines.
It's... much harder than you expected. You're not used to double battles, but you're determined to knock that stupid grin off his face.
Emmet, meanwhile, is very satisfied watching his old rival get their team knocked out again and again.
When you finally reach him, he's almost impressed. Almost. But he can't help rubbing it in your face a little.
"I am Emmet. You have spent a long time getting to my car. Do not worry. This will be your final stop."
You're so angry that you let it get to your head, and you lose. Badly. All of your hard work and here you stand, humiliated.
"What a shame. I expected better from you. But you know, in a Double Battle, if you misread one thing, the rest will be totally different. Please win 20 battles in a row, and fight with me again."
You're going to kill him. You're actually going to kill him.
The next time you come through, you have a new strategy. It works well for you. You work through his team methodically - this time you won't let your emotions get the better of you - and you come out victorious.
"Not bad! That was a verrry exciting battle. It was fun! The next time you challenge me, I won't lose."
Your ire has been cooled by your victory. Despite yourself, you find that challenging the subway has been the most fun you and your team have had in a while. So you go again. And again.
Your battles with Emmet are always new and exciting. You try to come up with as many interesting strategies as you can, and you can tell he's doing the same. You challenge each other. It's fun to have someone who can keep up with you.
Emmet has been keeping an eye on you during your battles. There's a lot you can tell about someone from the way they fight with pokemon. You're different then how you used to be - smarter. Nicer too. You treat your team so well, even when you lose you're never upset with them.
Over time, bitter banter makes way for a certain playfulness between you. You've been fighting for so long that most of the bad blood between you has been washed away with the flow of time.
One autumn afternoon, you're buying popcorn for a flick at the local movie theater, and who should happen to saddle up beside you but the subway boss.
"Look what the purrloin dragged out! Didn't realize you ever left the tunnels."
By wild chance, he's here to see the same movie that you are. You sit together because you know each other and it's convenient. Definitely not for any other reason, you tell yourself. Certainly not because you're friends.
When it's over, you still have much of the afternoon left. You could go home, or...
Neither you nor Emmet want to part ways quite yet. What a difference from how you used to be, when you couldn't wait to get away from him. You spend most of the afternoon together, walking through one of the local parks and just talking. It's nice. You have more in common then you thought you would.
Perhaps this could be the beginning of something wonderful.
Thanks for reading 💕
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Emmet happy that he won and reciting his script vs Reader wanting to gut him
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mizutenshii · 1 year ago
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CAFFEINE RUSH.
— pairing ; kaneki ken x human!gn!reader
— summary ; caffeine might not affect him, but it's a whole different story for you. or: kaneki with a very energetic reader.
— cw ; reader is bouncy and talktative, fluff, humor, mention of human consumption, mildly suggestive towards the end but nothing detailed (innuendo), established relationship
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there wasn't much in this world you could share with kaneki.
your diets were completely different – scratch that, they were different and you were freaked out by what his meals consisted of. there was no point in going on fancy dinner dates, and it wasn't fun to be the only one eating when you entertained other date ideas – hence why you often resorted to not eating as well.
it was no fun to be unable to share your xxl popcorn as you watched a movie in the theater, it felt off to be the only one enjoying sweet pastries as you went on a small cafe date, it just wasn't right to visit carnivals together and eat amazing food left and right while kaneki's hands remained empty.
he had offered so many times to suck it up just for you, to pretend that he was enjoying human food. but you knew he would have to throw it all up later or he'd get seriously sick, so you always turned down his offer.
there was, however, something you could enjoy together.
coffee.
although you would never drink your coffee like kaneki did – black and bitter, as if satan's soul had turned liquid – you had adapted to drinking coffee that was much more to your liking by adding an overdose of milk and sugar. it was a simple but very welcome solution, now you could go on coffee dates and talk sweetly over a steaming mug of coffee!
tonight, kaneki had decided to take this solution a little closer to home, showing up on your doorstep with a heavy coffee machine in his arms. he didn't seem to struggle at all with the weight he had to carry, but you still quickly ushered him inside and helped him install it in your kitchen.
"now we can have coffee dates at home," you said, satisfied as you looked at the machine sitting atop your kitchen counter, hands resting on your hips. "that's a lot cheaper than going out to drink it elsewhere so often."
as soon as you spoke those words, you instantly doubted them. kaneki consumed so much coffee daily that you'd probably lose lots of money on coffee beans. oh well, it was whatever. you didn't want to spoil his intentions. you'd just have to take on an extra shift at work to cover the coming coffee bean expenses.
"i know," the half-ghoul nodded. "that's what i thought."
nope, you definitely weren't going to burst his bubble.
"we should celebrate," you decided, stepping over to the kitchen cabinets to grab two mugs. "let's see how good this thing is."
"y/n, it's ten pm," kaneki pointed out, placing a hand on your arm to halt your movements. "caffeine doesn't really affect me but it's a different story for you."
"oh, i'll just pour a little extra milk to make my coffee less strong," you waved him off. "don't be a killjoy, ken. i'll be fine."
you were wrong.
sure, you were indeed fine, just heavily affected by the amount of caffeine that remained in your hot bevarage, even after adding an inhuman amount of milk.
with shaky hands, you sat on your sofa, bouncing in your seat and talking kaneki's ears off – all while the half-ghoul looked at you helplessly. your feet were tapping a restless rhythm on the hardwood floor of your living room, as you were talking to the male with excessive gestures.
"yoo," you giggled, slapping your knees as you thrummed along to the music that played over the tv commercials. "it's so funny how they're still trying to sell that anti-ghoul pepper spray. it doesn't even work?"
you recalled that moment where you had used it on kaneki in the very beginning, after finding out he was a ghoul. he didn't flinch, only looked you dead in the eyes, all but impressed. it was such a funny memory to you, and you wheezed as you tried to hold back your uneven laughter.
"it's all fun and games until they find out it won't stop anyone from eating them," kaneki muttered, a slight frown falling upon his features as you were still bouncing up and down from your seated position.
the half-ghoul gazed at the empty mugs on the table, wondering how such a small amount of caffeine already had this effect on you – all while he sat calmly, utterly unaffected by the substance he drank. it was quite the irony, since his bevarage contained a way higher concentration of caffeine.
"oh, let them have their blissful feeling of safety," you shrugged. "it makes some of the fear fade away, thinking you can actually stop a ghoul from eating you. i remember when you showed me your eye and i was like, ayooo, i can make it out of here because i have this amazing spray on me and–"
you rambled on and on, hyperactive to a point where you were mentioning kaneki's diet and the horrors that plagued tokyo so casually. sure, the half-ghoul had seen you like this before, but not at half past ten in the evening and not when you were alone. a filter on your words and behavior wasn't necessary, and it was as if you subconsciously knew, acting and speaking more freely.
at some point you jumped up from the sofa, startling the ghoul next to you. he looked at you in confusion and you wailed, "i have so much energy."
"no shit," kaneki mumbled, his mismatched eyes following your every movement as you darted around the living room impatiently.
frankly, he found it adorable – you seemed so happy and carefree, blurting out whatever was on your mind and following your body's desire to move around excitedly. he felt like he took part of your humanity away, always dragging you down with the misery that filled his life, forcing you to betray your kin in order to accept him. so seeing you like that, happy and unbothered, even if it was only for a brief moment, it just brought him a strange sense of relief.
kaneki finally got up as well, capturing you with his arms around your waist. you froze, looking at the male with wide eyes and a silly smile you couldn't keep in. but it vanished when you caught the boy with hair as pale as the moon gazing at you with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. you tilted your head curiously, wondering what had gotten into his mind.
"i am thoroughly regretting my decision to try our new coffee machine tonight," you admitted, coming to a halt afore the half-ghoul but still wiggling on your feet. you pouted, "should've waited until morning. there's no way i can sleep now."
the ghoul suddenly had a brilliant idea.
"google said it takes about three to five hours for the effects of caffeine to halt," he said, a devious smile falling upon his lips. "there's plenty we can do in that time, hm? time to put your excessive energy to good use, my y/n."
your breath stuttered in your throat when you grasped onto what kaneki meant, but there wasn't a part of you that even considered turning down his invitation. he was right, after all.
"alright," you grinned at the half-ghoul, allowing kaneki to take your hand and lead you out of the living room, leaving the two empty mugs behind on the coffee table.
maybe it wasn't all that bad to eliminate sleep for a night, to be consumed by the rush of caffeine. kaneki was a genius for bringing you that coffee machine, and you already knew one thing.
many good things would come from it.
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mizutenshii — O5.1O.2O23 — masterlist
— a/n ; i'll admit that this was very self-indulgent and i am by no means sorry about that. my adhd ass is just very hyper and when i consume caffeine it gets even worse and i could not help but imagine ken's reaction lol.
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steve-hen-grant · 10 months ago
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Pas de deux (Jake Lockley x reader ) 🌙🩰
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A/N: So! Kinda my first fic? Trying to exercise my writing skills. (You won’t believe how many times I had to just write “excersize” for autocorrect to save me.) So I hope y’all can enjoy the product of my practice!
In a previous post, I mentioned Jake crying while watching ballet. But what I meant to say was I had already developed a fic to this very concept. Needed the confidence to post it- which the reception to the first post got! It said Swan Lake, but for the plot’s conflict it’s Nutcracker.
Warnings: Fluff, mild comfort, reference to MK lore but you can pretend it isn’t, reference to Tchaikovsky mourning his sister, No use of Y/N, may be read as the POV of Layla, or yourself, mentions of Marc and Steven, no direct use of Spanish but reference to Jake speaking it, Reader may or may not know Spanish, it’s ambiguous this way for a self insert!, and again, my first full fan fiction. That is a warning. Surprisingly unserious. implied that narrator and the moon guys are visiting the US for this show.
Gender Neutral reader, but with uncomfortable formal shoes because they plague us all no matter
Word count: the word counter website broke so let me know when you get down there kk
You and Jake go to the Opera house in downtown Chicago. However, the loyal servant of the Moon God reacts unexpectedly…
Hours earlier, Jake struggled with his tie while I mulled over walking into the opera house together. His dark mustache furled as I helped arrange the black fabric and romanticized the pair of us strolling down the Chicago street: dressed to the nines, my arm in his, with the Christmas lights illuminating our path to the theater. Jake refused, mumbling something about how he didn’t want to make me walk longer in formal shoes than I had to. Knowing how I wouldn’t say anything, refusing to complain or burden the evening, until my Achilles tendons were shot by the time we got back to the hotel.
Among the three of them, Jake’s love language was having foresight to make life as accommodated and comfortable. But he forgets that he has a place in it.
Right now, in the brisk December evening, I trotted towards the warmly lit-refuge of the Civic Opera House. Jake dropped me off directly in front, rolling away to park his sleek Rolls Royce Phantom somewhere secure.
The exterior was like that of most concrete high-riser buildings. Though at ground level, in stark contrast, a sculpted arc entrance stood on the corner of the street. A light snow casted over the figures shaped into the stone. Tall preview posters displayed the principal dancer for the evening: the sugar plum fairy.
My pace towards the ticket booth was quick in the biting cold. The Opera house clerk smiled.
“Reservations under… Spector?”
“No- wait, yes. Yes.”
At my hesitation, I was rightfully earned a disconcerted expression. Marc must have booked the tickets. Before the words left her mouth, Jake appeared to save the day. Showing his- or Marc’s- ID. The clerk was satisfied and gave us two red tickets for entree. Jake took my arm in his, like a Highschool couple in a 50s movie. Between the regal opera house, the way he supports my arm, and opens the car door- truly old fashioned.
“Thanks, Marc,” I teased. He nudged me with his arm.
“Oh please, he made Steven book them,” Jake took off his gloves and stuffed them into his pocket. We handed our tickets off, and at last, we were on our way through marble floors and high ceilings to find seating.
Maybe that’s why we both enjoyed viewings in this specific opera house. It was completed in 1929, yet shined as brightly as ever. Velvet red fabrics and amber blown lights. If you weren’t careful, you could become easily motivated to write a romanticized novel.
In a world of my own, I don’t notice Jake looking over my face. But he wasn’t appreciating the interior of the architecture. Maybe the exterior of me.
Some hors d’oeuvres later, we situated in a balcony, closest to the stage. Jake insisted this would be ‘the best spot in the house’. From the balcony overview, patterns in the snow droplet’s sequence could be figured into the shape of snowflakes. Once again, Jake’s love language would make the evening special, by meticulous design. Jake’s prior knowledge of ballet was limited, yet his relationship to the music goes back.
No one would assume that, from what meets the eye. Even if you knew of his nightly servitude to Khonshu- there was less reason to believe he keeps a special mix of Tchaikovsky’s Greatest in his car’s dash. His work isn’t easy, and who doesn’t wind down to music? An avatar to the god of the moon is no exception.
Live orchestra has become a small thing for us. One that Marc chuffs at and Steven… would probably like to be apart of.
The elevated booth was tailored to the best view possible of the tilted stage. Below, forms of people moved to their seats, shed overcoats, and checked the time. Soon, the red curtains would pull apart to reveal the iconic home of the Stahlbaum’s, and delicate Clara center stage. It was a matter of time, and based on Jake’s mild leg bounce, not soon enough. I place a hand over his palm, steadying his nervous habit to a somber sway.
INTERMISSION
We returned to our secluded seats from the main area. Maybe or maybe not, pocketing some cheese squares and fancy crackers in napkins. Jake put his arm over the back of my seat and smirked, “You think I could do that?”
“Do what?”
“The dancing,” He grinned like a ferret. I pause for a moment to process the idea literally. You know what? Maybe. I’ve stayed in the car while Marc or Steven took care of their missions. From what I’ve seen, Moonknight is pretty agile. Mr. Knight is comparably a Gymnast. Making- often unnecessary- flips and turns over bullets and blades.
“Try asking Khonshu when you can take classes- conveniently between delivering justice.”
To which, Jake snickers. He takes his contraband-horderve from the lobby and speaks, “Oh yeah, it will happen. I’ll just borrow Steven’s tutu.” Jake looks aloft and grins, for a moment, it’s like I can hear his alter too.
“THOSE CLASSES WERE A ONE-OFF TIME!”
The second act. Clara and the Nutcracker prince have crossed the forest into a world of her childlike creation. Her and the prince are welcomed by flowers, candy, and snow. It seems like the defeat of the rat king would be the last of the room’s worries. Except for me.
Nearing a majestic finale, the nutcracker prince shares a dance with her majesty, the sugar plum fairy. He takes her hand and holds it, as her powder pink leg ascends. But this isn’t what Jake is thinking about. His eyes are hardly on the scene below, but he is paying attention to the music. The Nutcracker, Op. 71, Act II: No. 14a, Pas de deux. He holds his breath for a moment. A small gesture I might have missed if he didn’t drop my hand when he does so. I glanced at him, not wanting to disturb his fixation to the show.
And maybe I didn’t want to disturb the way his locks messily fell on his forehead and ears. He’s a gentleman, so he wouldn’t wear his hat into the event. But by removing it, the bunched hair underneath fell loosely. Marc and Steven were supposedly relentless about on the way downtown, if his passive looks to the rear view mirror meant anything.
Does a family of birds live in your hat, mate?
Cmon, Jake, everytime I get the body I have to run a comb through it.
After Jake lowered his hands from applause, he took mine in his again. As if he six whole minutes without it was too much. I press my thumb into his knuckles. He pulls my hand closer to him, holding it totally casually to his heart.
The Finale had wrapped up in a roar of an audience. The evening’s dancers made their bows and the orchestra had begun to pack up their bows and sheet music. Neither me nor Jake were one for crowds, but fortunately, the box seats were close enough to a flight of stairs that crew members likely took. We stood and peeked down the flight that turned around the ivory painted walls.
Jake held my arm and smirked, “Do you want to take a shortcut?”
I gave him a puzzled look. “That way? Are you sure there is an exit? We might get a meet and greet with the rat king,” I half-joke. Jake grins and his eyes light up at that risk.
My eyes narrow,
“You want to meet the rat king don’t y-“
“Yes.”
It’s Christmas. Might as well give Jake the gift of following through one of his mischievous schemes- together. Jake is laughing and throughly unserious as we move closer to the landing of the stairwell. I slide my hand down the glossy railing, “If we find this rat thing-“
“When. When we find the rat thing,” Jake interrupts.
I pause and continue, “Yes, my apologies. When we find the rat, are you going to valiantly slay it, and save me?”
Jake thinks for a moment, stopping on the stairs. He responds, “I’ve fought weirder.” I nod agreeably as we continue hand in hand. But he mumbled something I couldn’t hear, perhaps some Spanish intonations, but too low to react to.
But I had a pretty good idea what he meant to say out loud. Jake will show his affection in careful planning, a car ride anywhere, but not typically his words. In those tender instances where he has to resort to sweet nothings, he expresses it in Spanish. The words flow so naturally that they aren’t being filtered by a process of translation. Just his feelings, as they are.
I smile, and pull him into my arm tighter. It was more than likely he was protectively, lovingly ranting about how well he would protect me. How he would welcome the chance to prove it. In the dimly lit corridor we found ourselves in, we located an exit door and push it. I recall the December air and hold his arm closer.
Jake holds up his keys and presses down on his buttons. Immediately after leaving the back door, we are greeted by the flashing headlights of his car in a neighboring lot. Jake looks at my face of surprise and laughs, “You thought I was going to let you walk so far in those shoes?”
While in the car, on the way back to the flat, Swan Lake plays over the radio. I clutch my coat in the warm embrace of the car’s heating system. Jake is tapping his finger along while letting cars through, but he stops as the piece ends and the next begins. The Pas de deux. This time, I don’t miss my chance to ask. My hand grazes his leather coated arm, “You alright?” Jake keeps a deadpan look through the droplets on the windshield, blinking several times. I lean in a touch closer, “Jake?”
“Uhm, I just read where, you know, what’s-his-face, wrote this piece for his sister who passed. It uhm…” Jake, agitated by the way his mouth wants to curl into a grimace in front of me, lays his arm down in a finalizing gesture. He was done talking about it, not without losing clear vision while driving. I hold his gloved hand, and without thinking, hold it to his chest. His shoulders finally lowered. The light turned green. The music filling the gentle silence.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~🌙~~~~~~~~~~~~
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projectbluearcadia · 8 months ago
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[P1] Film Worthy
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NSFW Lucifer x F!MC Spice Rating - 2/4 KINDA SPICY
[ Part 1 ] [ Part 2 ]
Just decided to run with this today, but pornography with plot = dinner. Story CW: Restraint; Whipping; Degradation
[ Story Premise: Lucifer falls asleep during the weekly family movie night, and upset that he did, insists on watching something else with you. He happens to pick something he'll never fall asleep to. ]
Wordcount - 1077
smutty notes (consult if you haven’t read my smut before.)
You feel Lucifer's head lean into yours, his breathing getting softer as he relaxed his weight more and more into you. You think about scolding him about falling asleep in the middle of a movie Levi had made such a passionate point of making everyone watch because it was "TSL's greatest movie", but you can't really blame him. He deserved the sleep, and far be it from you to stop him.
That said, it's become difficult for you to focus on the movie yourself when you're busy trying to keep him from slumping into you so hard that his weight is starting to shove you into Mammon. The white-haired idiot nearly gives his brother away, and you slap your hand over his mouth.
"Say nothing or I'll tell him about your secret rendez-vous," you mouth at him, and he quickly nods. You both pay attention to the movie, even as Levi takes that precise moment to look behind him suspiciously, and you quickly draw your hand over Lucifer's head, hoping Levi won't notice that his eyes are closed.
Fortunately, it seems like he's saved as Henry shouts something at the top of his lungs, and Levi snaps his head back to watch. Nice save, Henry!
Fortunately, the rest of the movie goes without incident, and you just barely manage to cover for him when it ends by saying he fell asleep during the credit roll.
"Luci... C'mon, let's get you to bed," you urge gently as everyone leaves to go to their rooms, but he's out cold. "Lucifer, honey, my head isn't a pillow."
"Mmm..." he hums in his sleep, and you sigh with a little smile.
"Alright, fine, we'll stay here," you concede, carefully pulling the rest of him onto the couch before you lower his head to your lap. "You're lucky you're cute." You ruffle his soft hair, watching his sleeping face as he mumbles nonsense. You yawn yourself "Mm... Guess I'll try to get a siesta too..."
It's just as you're starting to fade in and out of consciousness that Lucifer stirs, and you blink a few times as he sits up and cracks his back with a satisfying yet slightly worrying series of snaps.
"Why didn't you wake me?" Lucifer asks, cupping your cheek. "I didn't want to waste movie night sleeping..."
"It's okay if you get sleepy, Lucifer..."
"But I wanted to enjoy it with you. We haven't spent any time together this week," he protests, and you can't help but chuckle a little because he sounds whiny.
"Want to watch something shorter then, so you don't feel left out?" you ask sleepily, "before we go to bed?" He grins like a boy, and you ignorantly wonder what he's thinking about.
"Something we can only watch together," he adds mischievously. "Let's make it special."
"Sounds like you already have something in mind," you reply, and his blue magic wisps through the darkened room to reveal a... rather interesting DVD in his hand. "Where on earth were you keeping that?"
"There are places in this house that I keep a very good secret of, including my collection of, shall we say, some very erotic theater?"
"That is not theater," you laugh, "and certainly not the kind you normally enjoy."
"Well, I do pick them for story and acting skills above all else, but... I won't lie when I say that similar stories didn't make the cut because they weren't explicit enough for my tastes."
"You are such a pervert," you giggle, and he pokes you in the sides, tickling you while you do so.
"Oh, like you aren't, little Miss Smut? You and Satan go through those dirty fantasies like they're just a bit of light reading before bed."
"Okay, okay, stop it!" you gasp through your giggles. "Just put it on!"
"Your wish is my command," he replies with a cocky smirk before he turns the television back on and loads the disk-drive, a nostalgic hum wavering through the air as the information was read. Lucifer excitedly pulls you into his lap, kissing the back of your head as he presses play.
To some of your surprise, the plot is genuinely interesting; the female lead is a serial adulterer with complicated reasons for cheating, and the male lead had been divorced twice by the same awful woman. Of course, that made him hardened and cynical, and it made her a pathological liar.
Which of course would lead to a very intense scene where he slammed her against the wall, hungrily digging his fingers into both her throat as well as her inner thigh when he asked her if she was trying to play with him.
"O-Oh," you say, shifting on Lucifer's lap as you watch the male lead tease her with the handle of a whip while he covered her eyes. It was made clear to the only the audience that he knew she was lying to him as he told her to guess what he was going to do to her. And the reality dawning on her face as he thrusted the handle into her, letting her feel the whip against her legs.
"Want me to do that, honey?" Lucifer asks sweetly against your ear as he ties her up and degrades her while she begs for him. Begging and begging for him to put it into her, and your mouth falls open at the look on her face.
You raise your hands to your lips, feeling your face warm as you watch him, frustrated, pound at her. You've barely even registered Lucifer's question; you're too busy biting your lip at the curious woman squeezing her legs together at the door, her fingers shudderingly hovering on the handle like she wanted the scolding that the male lead was dishing out.
"Holy shit..." you whisper, even as Lucifer traces his lips down your neck. The entire scene wasn't just dirty; it was believable. The tension was so thick with jumbled emotions of lust, love, shame and anger that it was practically sitting in the room with you.
"Do you really want it that rough?" Lucifer chuckles against your shoulder, running his fingers up against your waist, breaking your concentration in the process.
"I, um... I don't think I can take that..."
"Relax; I was teasing," he chuckles, nursing his hand through your hair. "You don't have to sound so anxious. I'm not going to do anything you don't give me the go-ahead for."
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inawearyworld · 1 year ago
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free if you truly wish to be: chapter i
florence fickelgruber, the famed chocolatier's idealistic young wife, ponders her past, her regrets, and her longing for a change. guess what? she finds one.
2023!wonka x oc, this chapter ~1.7k
chapter one is a shit ton of exposition for the character, but i promise you, dear timothee fans, the content you're here for is coming. i tried to capture the dahl style of storytelling (without, yknow, the racism and fatphobia and all that) which was so fun. this character essentially popped into my head last night, and the story will follow her development through the plot of the movie. after i left the theater, i realized i'd painted my nails to match mat’s costumes without realizing, and then suddenly WHOOM there she was. almost like magic. :)
enjoy!!
(also. even if the cartel’s offices don’t actually have balconies, THEY DO NOW.)
part two fic masterlist
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"Free if you Truly Wish to Be", or, "the Chronicles of the Songbird", being a Tale of She who is Truly one Wren Matterson, but More Widely Known-at the Start of our Plot-as one Florence Fickelgruber.
Things were…fine.
In a world such as this one, there was very little luxury for a girl such as herself to hatch, nurture, and follow a dream. It would spark up in the purest of fashions and launch onto its way, glittering with promise of a life’s hopes fulfilled, only for the world around it to force it down a path of compromise and disillusionment until the dream’s poor follower found it nearly unrecognizable.
Such was the lot of Mrs. Florence Fickelgruber’s passion for performance. Long before either of these names were attached to her, she knew she longed to spend her life swept up in poetry and music, creating a better world through the arts she loved.
That dream, she often swore to herself, had not died.
It had simply…not turned out as planned.
For now, at least.
For a little over the past two years, more specifically.
It would have been nice to have the means and time to try to make her own fortune, to experience a sweeping romance with someone her own age, to live in a world fair enough that allowed her to both support her now-faraway family and live according to her ideals; it would have been nice indeed.
But for now, life was not quite nice, but fine. The sleekly fonted Fs that monogrammed nearly every surface in the mansion in which she lived had stood during the beginning months for her husband’s, and now her own, alliterative names. Now, she only saw them as golden signifiers of things being nothing more than Fine.
She was currently perched on an emerald-colored fainting couch in her husband’s office that, despite its plush craftsmanship, had lost any semblance of comfort long ago. She sat, and she considered the striking portrait of the two of them that hung over the fireplace, which they’d posed for when she’d still thought this was a good idea: a self-satisfied smirk rested on his face, and her emerald-manicured hand rested on his chest (intended by her to show her devotion, intended by the artist to show her ornate ring). She sat, and she looked into the hall, and she sat, and she stared out the window for a time, and she sat. Eventually, she picked up a set of paper and an emerald-set quill.
“What’s that you’re writing, darling?” came Felix’s voice from across the room, and she nearly sighed in annoyance, a direct contrast to the way her head snapped toward the sound.
There shouldn’t be a melody to that voice, she thought. Not when he only seems to initiate conversation at the exact moments I’ve decided to do something for myself.
“To the opera house,” she responded as he entered the room.
“Again? I thought they’d rejected you.”
“On the grounds that they were scared to hire me, they said, lest they write my role not fully to your liking and lose their concessions wares because of it.”
“Pish, posh.”
“Do you think, my love,” she asked, standing and moving to him, “that…well, would you dictate something I can write here, to reassure them? They’ll take your word over mine.”
“There wouldn’t be a point,” he said flippantly. “Besides, they’re right. Just keep singing for my radio commercials, darling; the customers love it. I can’t imagine you needing anything else. They’re installing our new grand piano next week, you can have all the little fun you’d like on that…”
Throughout this speech, he’d been digging through the pockets of his impeccably tailored blazer, eventually producing a cigarette.
“Give me a light, pet?”
She gritted her teeth as she lit his cigarette, and he brought it to his lips with a smile. She hated when he called her that.
It used to make her feel…wanted, wanted when nobody else did.
Now it just felt…
“I want to share my work,” she said, pushing aside the previous thoughts and pushing forward the previous conversation. “I want to have a genuine impact on the world.”
“And you will, I swear it. Once Fickelgruber Chocolate’s advertisements started using your voice, sales went up nearly twenty percent, and they’re only growing; if that’s not impact, what is?”
With that, he kissed her before she could give an answer-there was a time I would have romanticized that taste of cigarette smoke-took the half-finished letter, folded it so crisply it nearly ripped, and tossed it into the gold-leaf wastebasket.
“Felix-”
“Just wait until the new radio spots are released. It’ll be marvelous, darling.”
She should have known this was how it would be.
It had seemed too good to be true in the moment. To receive, after a performance in her home city, not only the praises of a world-famous chocolatier but also an offer to travel to and perform in his world-famous city, and later a proposal-albeit more businesslike than romantic-to be set for life, to provide for her struggling family; although, she’d come to learn, her husband would have wanted nothing whatsoever to do with her if he had known of her humble origins.
He’d just never bothered to ask.
Well, save for once-
“I assume you come from a good family?”
“Oh, yes, they’re the warmest souls you could ever-”
“Wonderful.”
I grew up nowhere near those obsessions with reputation; how was I to know he meant “good” in that sense?
Before she truly knew him, she had liked him. Felix was undeniably smart, and not unhandsome; she thought him to have a solid wit and an intriguing way of speech, with eyes and hands that would have been attractive on a kinder man. The clean lines and deep green hues that seemed to follow him everywhere suited her well, and she used to have reason to believe that association with him might give her a platform to create positive change, that he saw her as an equal in ambition and intellect.
Once they were married, once she’d seen him with the rest of his Cartel and realized the depth of his disdain, arrogance, classism, and general apathy for anything that was not himself, that reason to believe had dwindled faster than a sweet drop of hot chocolate on a waiting tongue.
…Not to mention that I could practically see him almost rescind his proposal when he learned I’m lactose intolerant.
But she’d suffered through the resulting throataches and occasional days of less-than-stellar singing that came with the barrage of dairy-filled sweets as she was announced to the world as the famed chocolatier’s fiancee, telling their story (which Felix embellished quite often) to the press over and over again.
“Yes, that’s right,” she remembered him saying on the television broadcast that announced the engagement, “my little songbird has finally found her golden cage.”
She had winced, forced to make it seem like a smile in the face of the blinding sea of flashbulbs. That had been the first moment in which she couldn’t ignore the deeper feeling that this was wrong, and she wondered if anyone watching would notice her flash of pain.
What she didn’t know was that, thousands of miles away, in the middle of a far-off ocean, a boy on a ship had been holding a tiny transmission screen (assisted somewhat by magic in order to obtain a stronger signal), eager to see the news about one of his idols, and that, despite his core tendency to give the benefit of the doubt, that idol lost a bit of his respect that day.
I shouldn’t have done this.
But if my family was still starving, all because I wanted to wait for someone kinder, someone who’d support my dreams, I couldn’t forgive myself.
She was startled from her thoughts by a shout calling from below the office, followed by…
A song.
Felix discarded his cigarette and went to the window, posturing into a lean against its frame, and Florence followed. His arm slunk around her waist, so her hand found its way to his chest; it was the portrait pose again, the frozen frame, the unspoken understanding.
I do love acting.
But I don’t know how much longer I can take a life of…offstage performances.
The boy in the center of the Galeria, though, seemed not to be putting on a persona for the crowd, but rather infusing his entire soul into his song to them. He was indeed meaning to sell something, but his passion for it shone brightly in a way she’d never seen from a businessman, present company included. The people that were starting to surround this young man hailed from all walks of life, and he beamed at them all with the same sunlit smile.
With a flourish, he opened the lid of the jar of candy that he held, and-
Oh!-
Each piece of chocolate had flown from its container and flitted into the air, leading to a gasp of delight from the crowd. Florence was able to suppress her own squeal, but couldn’t stop a flex of the hand, involuntarily causing her to grasp her husband’s tie.
“Don’t worry, pet,” Fickelgruber said, clearly misunderstanding his wife’s reaction, and with the tone of his voice clearly opposite of his words. “His charm over them will be…short-lived. Our business is perfectly safe.”
The boy finished his song to rapturous applause, and it took every ounce of Florence’s theatrical training to keep from joining it. She felt a shift next to her, and looked to the side to see her husband making pointed eye contact with his colleagues in their respective offices. The smirk that used to set her soul aflame-before she’d learned what it could mean-formed slowly across his face.
“Florence?”
“Yes, dear?”
“Go home.”
“I-”
“We’ll take care of him. Go home.”
Saying this, he left her side and swiftly went out of the office, presumably to join forces with the rest of the Cartel in terrorizing the poor young man.
The moment Felix’s presence could no longer be felt, Florence let out a breath.
Turning back to the window, she considered the boy, who was wholly wrapped up in the joy of his work having an impact on those who witnessed it.
Tentatively, and with the slight smile of a small rebellion, she turned the window’s handle and stepped out onto the office’s balcony.
She wouldn’t let his light be dimmed in the same way she thought hers was.
And she would certainly not go home.
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mathoinyanarts · 4 months ago
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Beetlejuice 2 actually just bummed me out
Man, I was so hyped for this film, and in the end I was just kinda...eh.
There were moments that made me laugh, but like in the end it was an all around let down. It felt like a series of events just happening until it all collided into...nothing really
Spoilers from here on out
Biggest problem. The trailers made it seem Delores was gonna have a bigger role, but looking back, other than the plotline where Beetlejuice wants to marry Lydia so he won't have to get back with Delores, they could've gotten rid of her and come up with a new motivation.
But I'm not saying get rid of her tho, I wish she could've had a bigger role. While we saw her in small chunks throughout the film, I think having it crescendo at the end to her being the main threat would've been much more satisfying, instead of her just getting fucking sandwormed along with the loser fiance dude, who honestly got way too many lines for how purposefully annoying as hell they made him.
I get that was the point with his character, he's this movie's version of Otho, same snootiness and all, but even the first movie used Otho sparingly...
At least this guy was more deserving of being sandwormed lol
Willem Dafoe character was also one I wish had a bigger role, literally didn't do anything in the end either. His job was to tell Beetle about Delores, and then get frozen at the climax to achieve nothing ultimately, which is part of the joke I guess.
The beginning of the movie focuses on setting up a lot, but then the writers clearly realized how bloated their script, was at the end, cause then they just started doing stuff like, getting rid of one of the antagonists, sidelining one of the antagonists, and then sidelining another antagonist, and then introducing Astrid's father, which, I have like a theory that was made as a substitute for an Adam and Barbara reunion, cause like, it really just felt super tacked on.
If anything a Barbara and Adam reunion would've made more sense, but I get that Alec Baldwin is kinda... in trouble, and Geena Davis is...Actually I dunno what she's doing :v
And I know I'm complaining a lot for something that's like a solid 6, but like, I can't stop thinking that like, did this have to be made? Did this specific sequence of events have to be made? I'm not asking for hype bait, I'm not asking for like a big crossover, I'm asking for the writers to have looked at their script one more time lol
Cause like this bloated sequence of events just kind of led to something that made me go... ok😐
The biggest red flag when I first saw the trailer was seeing that at least 2 of the main writers were writers for Wednesday, like, I cannot with that show😔
There were in fact positives that I might illustrate in a future post, but that was my first impression. I just left the theater feeling like I wanted my money back;-;
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mikuyuuss · 10 months ago
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I just went to the kny premiere and this is my OOTD.
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Since my hair is partially dyed pink, I went for a Mitsuri inspired look. I braided my hair, wore her shirt (that I got from the swordsmith premiere) and wore all her colors (pink white jacket, green skirt, and flower patterned socks.) Also close up of my pink hair below.
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I got this idea when me and my friend were window shopping for clothes. We were talking abt which clothes the kny characters would wear and which ones our oc would wear too, so that's how we thought of doing some casual cosplay during the priemere.
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My friend went for a subtle Tengen look, with a simple black outfit, since Tengen doesnt wear a haori. He also wore some jewelry as an homage to Tengens flashiness. He also loves Zenitsu so ofc he wore a Zenitsu bag.
The theater has less people and wasn't as lively as the Swordsmith premiere, probably cuz we went at the wrong time, but hey, more room for us to be unhinged without disrupting anyone tho haha. (I was sad not to see any cosplayers, we intended to bring our cosplayer friend too, but she was busy)
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There was a display so we took lots of pictures. We even made sure to stand next to our fictional crushes, me with Giyuu and my friend with Tengen.
Anyways here's what I thought abt the movie so far
-first of all I LOVE IT. I have no idea how much I miss seeing the rest of the characters so much. The Hashira Training arc is an arc that I really adore, bc it's one of the few moments where we get to see the characters slow down a bit. My friend says he finds it to be the most boring arc, but idk, with all the action in KNY I dig for some "boringness" once in awhile. Also we were joking abt how this arc is like the "school festival arc" or "beach episode" of KNY, again, one of the reasons to love this arc.
-I Never thought much about Sanemi and Obanai's dynamic before. I just know they are a besties, but this filler really made me interested in them! Snake breathing and Wind breathing visuals were just sooo cool!!
-Have I mention that I miss the cast so much, but also I find myself foaming at the mouth everytime I see Giyuu 💀🤣 I noticed that there seems to be a sad piano music that's playing when he was trying to leave the meeting (I wonder if that is his ost) meanwhile my friend is foaming at the mouth everytime he sees Tengen.
-I feel bad for anyone in the butterfly estate who had to sleep next to Zenitsu and Inosuke. XD
-Also it's so nice to see some Kanao and Shinobu moment! Shinobu looks extra gorgeous I noticed. They really yassified her this season, and I'm not complaining. Also I like how even after Giyuu left, Shinobu tried her best to include him when they were discussing the pillar training. I wish they didnt cut it short though, I wanna know what they talk about Giyuu behind close doors so bad lol.
-Mitsuri's "Tanjiro speech" was so well executed and adorable, and just when I thought it couldn't get more expressive in the manga, then they even added her ost, and it was just perfect! Kanahana knock it out of the park with this one too! Even if there weren't alot of people watching. I did hear some giggles in this scene (including ourselves)
-Overall, it was a very satisfying watch. I really enjoy this arc for being some of the slower moments before the storm that is the final arc, and I think they managed to nail that! All the little things such as the filler of Tamayo being informed about Shinobu helping her, and some scenes that were rearranged, made the flow of the story go more smoothly.
-Also yes the op really slaps.
Speaking of our cosplayer friend that we mentioned before, after we were done with movie, it's almost as if there was some fate or foreshadowing going on bc we did end up stumbling upon her (though not in cosplay) and we ended up going back to take better pictures with her in it!
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cheolism · 2 years ago
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abandoned mall piano
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✧ mingyu x reader
✧ summary: after a shift at the movie theater in the nearly-abandoned mall, you decide to play the piano that randomly appeared by the instrument store.
✧ genre: romance, first meetings, meet-cute. awkward mingyu ft his lisp.
✧ wc is approx 2.3
✧ note: warning for a piano bench that creaks a lot. this is mostly just a meet-cute between an awkward and enthusiastic mingyu and a pianist reader. if there's interest i'm def down for a sequel
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Waving goodbye at Hansol and hoping he would have a better day than you, you left the movie theater. You tore off your cap and shoved it deep into your tote bag, wishing that your bag was infinite and the cap would disappear inside. Your nametag went next, because honestly why the hell did these random people who you, quite frankly, didn’t know and didn’t want to know, need to know your name?
The mall was nearly empty, as it tended to be. Even Saturday evenings couldn’t really save the mall from the desertion of its once-regular customers. Your mom would shake her head and sigh whenever she showed up at your work, handing you a box of supper. “It’s a shame. This place used to be so popular when I was a kid.”
You always held your tongue at this, wanting to remark on how your mother and the mall predated online shopping. 
Even as a kid, you remembered the mall being busier. You remembered photo shops and bookstores, ice cream stands and a Hot Topic. Now the only places that remained in popularity were the movie theater and the instrument store, with other shops and chains constantly rotating stores in and out. 
You walked past the fountain, which was kept turned off more than it was on. The instrument shop was on the other side of the fountain, and, peculiarly, a piano was in the normally empty space that lay between the shop and fountain. 
Slowing to a stop, you glanced around. The Old Navy, which had appeared suddenly a month ago and you and Jeonghan bet would last two more months at most, had a few mothers milling about in front of it. But no one was around the piano. 
You went to it, as if there was an invisible string tying you to it and tugging you forward. It wasn’t anything spectacular, made largely out of wood and painted a horrible neon green that reminded you of Post-Its. It reminded you of the piano kept in your high school choir room, the one wheeled about for concerts. 
Still, you set your tote on the bench and slid into place. The bench creaked beneath you. You glanced up and down the keys. They were plastic, further testament to the cheapness of the piano, but when you placed your fingers down in position on Middle D, the sweet ting elicited, no matter how cheap, made you grin. 
You shifted again; the bench creaked again. 
Adjusting your fingers, you slowly began a simple melody. You weren’t so much of a master as to promptly begin playing without practice, and the plainness of the song wasn’t anything to marvel at. Still, softly, you sang along with the warm-up. 
“Puff the Magic Dra-gon lived by the sea,” your voice was low, not daring to go any higher and rise above the piano. You knew your limits. “And fro-licked in the au-tumn mist in a land called Honah Lee.”
The piano was cheap, and nothing like the Petite Grand that had lived in your piano teacher’s den (“parlor,” she had corrected you with a stern look. “it’s a parlor.”). But you were satisfied nonetheless, and shifted your hands again. 
You began your next song, more sure than when you had played the child’s song, your fingers going to the E in the third octave. Unable to help yourself, you sang along, head bent and blind to the mall around you. 
“Why do birds suddenly appear everytime you are near?
“Just like me, they long to be close to you.
“Why do stars fall down from the sky every time you walk by?”
Though you were no Karen Carpenter, and you were a lone pianist playing in an abandoned mall, in your ears you were joined by a chorus and trumpet and strings. You were lost to it, swept away by the memories the song brought to you, somehow existing both in the mall during the age of online shopping and overnight deliver, but also existing decades back, 
“What song is that you’re playing?”
Looking back, you must have jumped about a foot in the air. Your hands plopped down on the keys, a painful dang emitting from the piano. The smile that must have appeared on your face at some point during your little song, quickly disappeared as you looked up at the man standing next to you and the piano. 
The grin on his face quickly dropped at your visible fright, his eyes widening and mouth gaping. He then sputtered for a moment before reaching his hands out in a placating gesture, as if he was trying to calm you. “Shit -- I’m so sorry, I wasn’t trying to scare you! I just work at the instrument store and no one except for kids has played on the piano all day so I was curious when someone played an actual song and I just wanted to see who you were and then I wanted to know what song you were playing, and you looked so cute I couldn’t help but come up to you and ask and I’m so sorry for scaring you.”
He spoke a mile a minute, spewing out words as if he were to slow down, someone would interrupt and he’d never get the chance to talk again. You wondered if he took a breath at all during his little speech, but then your mind lingered on one phrase in particular. 
You looked so cute. 
You wondered if you looked as flustered as you felt. 
“Sorry,” he said again. He had a sheepish look on his face, and wow. You wondered how he managed to look like a kicked puppy when he was so obviously over six foot and broad-shouldered, and his uniform polo stretched across his chest and hid nothing. His dark hair was long, bangs brushing against his cheeks and making him look like a heart-throb from the 90s. He was a daydream, with his tan skin and biceps. He looked like a CEO, not a mere employee for an instrument store in an abandoned mall. 
Then his sheepish look was melting into a shy smile, his canines long and looking more like fangs. 
You licked your lips, diverting your eyes from the man. You cleared your throat, bringing your hands away from the keys and setting them on your lap. “It’s uh. It’s okay. You didn’t mean to.”
“I didn’t!” He agreed, eyes wide and earnest. 
If he was a dog, he’d be a golden retriever, you thought. 
There was a pause. 
“They long to be close to you.”
His brows furrowed, the sweet look on his face being overtaken by confusion. He cocked his head a little to the side, bangs falling to obscure his eyes. “What?”
You licked your lips again. Why were they so dry all of a sudden? “The song. It’s called ‘(They Long To Be) Close To You’, with little parentheses around the first part. Like. Parenthesis, then ‘they long to be’, parenthesis, then the rest. It’s by this old duo called the Carpenters. They were popular until the 80s.”
Neither of you spoke for a moment. Then, looking at your hands, you said, “I first heard it on the Muppets. The original show. Not the new movies.”
Another moment of silence, and then the man was talking. “Oh! That’s cool. I love old songs. My friend, Jihoon -- he works at the instrument store too -- he loves all kinds of music. I’m sure he’s heard of your song before, too!”
“What’s your favorite?”
He blinked, looking taken back. “What?”
“What’s your favorite old song?” You asked, clenching your fingers in your lap. This was the part you hated about meeting new people: the initial conversation. The only reason you got along so well with Hansol was because he was just as socially awkward, and you got along with Jeonghan because he watched you trip and drop an extra-large bucket of popcorn and decided you were pitiful enough for him to “adopt”. 
Despite how suave the man looked, he wasn’t unable to hide the panic your question sent him into. You felt as if you were watching him mentally go through all the filing cabinets of songs in his head, trying to find one suitable enough. “Uh. ‘We Didn’t Start the Fire’?”
Your brow furrowed for a moment, before realization hit you. Then you felt your eyes widen and mouth open, and laughter erupted from you. You threw your head back from the force of your laughter, it loud and echoing around the open space. 
The man was beaming, clearly happy that he managed to pass your question. “Yeah, you know. The lyrics really get me. Especially the part where he talks about communism.”
You were giggling again, thoroughly charmed. Setting your hands on the piano, you shot him a smile. “Oh, you’re talking about this?”
Like a horse at the races, you were off. The staccato beats sent your fingers dancing, and you felt wild. You felt as if there was something in your heart, as if there really was a horse running a race inside there, making your neutrons and electrons come alive as you played for this man who worked at the instrument store. 
He was clearly having just as much fun. When you glanced at him he was smiling so wide, you swore you could see all of his teeth. Then he began singing, bopping his head along and wiggling his long limbs to the beat. 
You picked up the pace and so did he, and the two of you worked in perfect tandem to create an absolute mess out of the song. Your fingers were stiff and beginning to ache, having not played this much and this frantically in a long while. But there was something between you and the man, and you couldn’t help but think back to all the romances that called attraction ‘electricity’ and think they were right. 
Then your forefinger slipped, and you played a wrong note. You let out a groan, pushing your lips out in a pout as you gave up. 
The man followed your lead. His smile was like a mad man’s, but when he reached up and smoothed his hair out of his face you were once again struck with how handsome he was. 
“You never told me your name,” you said, turning towards him. The bench creaked, but you didn’t pay it any attention. “You came out of nowhere and scared the hell out of me and then came and invited yourself to my jam session. You owe me a name.”
“I didn’t come from nowhere,” he said, but his face was still lit with amusement. “I came from the instrument shop.”
“Oh, my bad,” you apologized. 
He neared, extending his hand. It was large, you noticed, and just as golden as the rest of him. “I’m Mingyu.” You introduced yourself, placing your hand in his. “I work at the movie theater.”
“The movie theater? With your talent?” The man shook his head. He slid onto the bench next to you, and you moved over. It creaked under your combined weight. He smelled good. His thighs pressed against yours due to how small the bench was, and they were just as warm as his hand. 
You wondered if he would let you hold his hand again. 
“You should be working as a professional piano-ist,” Mingyu said, voice confident. He placed his fingers on the keys, playing no tune in particular. 
“Pianist,” you corrected gently. Your hands joined his on the keys, your right thumb resting on the C in the fifth octave. You looked at his hands, and Mingyu took the cue to put his right hand on the C on his end. Then you were playing, slow enough so he could copy you. 
“Hey,” he said, brow furrowing as he glanced from watching your right hand to his own, ensuring he was playing the right notes. “Isn’t this from that movie? The Sound of Music?”
It was then you noticed the lisp. Enthralled and already hooked, you smiled at him. His jawline was sharp, and you knew that if he lived during the time of the Ancient Greeks he surely would have been a model for the sculptors. Feeling rather impish, you decided to tease. “What movie was it?”
“Oh, you know, the one with Julie Andrews.”
He still wasn’t watching you and couldn’t see the mischievous look on your face. “Julie Andrews was in a lot of movies.” “It was the Sound of Music --”
Mingyu glanced at you, and upon seeing your face he let out a groan. He pouted, and you wondered how a grown man could pull off such a face and still look cute. “Are you making fun of my lisp?”
You laughed. “It’s cute, don’t worry.”
His pout melted for a moment, his dark eyes twinkling. Then Mingyu pouted again, crossing his arms over his chest. “Oh, it’s cute is it?”
“It is.”
He hummed, the playful look in his eyes persisting. “Cute enough for me to ask you out on a date and succeed?”
Your eyes widened for a second, caught off-guard. You were still in your black uniform from work and you were sure you had acne on your forehead from working with the popcorn and wearing a cap. You probably smelled like popcorn. 
“Please?” Mingyu asked, somehow looking unashamed of how his voice took on a whining tone. “You’re so cute and you looked so pretty playing the piano, and I want to hear more about your favorite old songs and I want to make you laugh again.”
You glanced down at your hands. You clenched your fingers for a moment, licking your lips. 
Mingyu’s eyes were still on you when you chanced a look at him. You settled your hands on the keys. “Okay. Okay. Tell me the name of this song, and if you can I’ll go out on a date with you.”
And then you played. 
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itstimetotheorize · 1 year ago
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The Mall's cruel fate, an unneeded existence
How odd. The fleshy mass Noone encountered in ch.3 is similar to the flesh walls we saw in the Tower, and yet...its existence was different.
The flesh in the Mall tried to give Noone whatever she desired. By reading her mind, it knew of the things she had and the things she always wanted, and yet…none of it satisfied her…because she could feel herself lose interest in it all. Noone had become disconnected from the things she used to love as a child, inevitably leading her to a very sad, yet very real realization...she was growing up, not necessarily in the sense of age, but in the sense that she had matured. The things she saw, the things she faced and the things she did to survive another day, both in her home and in that place of nightmares she was in, had finally begun to take its toll. And had it not been for this realization of maturity, Noone might have lost herself completely in all the wonders the flesh offered her. When the flesh attempted to find some sort of connection to her by pointing out the pendant it gave her, it was desperate to find any way of showing her it could give her a life where she could have everything, but it was precisely its desperation which drove so many other children away, it was careless, unlike the flesh we saw in the Black Tower.
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Unlike the Mall, the Black Tower resided in a place where it not only thrived, but was also in control. It was surrounded by various Residents as it consumed and decayed everything. The children(Mono and Six) were held inside it, deep in its spell, infected with escapism and surrounded by what reflected their desires. And while we have always theorized Mono wanted nothing more than a friend, resulting in him being left in a bare and empty room, it offered Six a room which not only contained the music box which soothed her, but everything a child like her would want, such as the toys she saw around the Pale city. Unlike the Mall, the Tower was able to accomplish the one thing the Mall struggled to do…trap someone.
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The flesh in the Black Tower was cunning, it hid itself perfectly while still watching Mono and Six through the televisions we saw all around the Pale city, planning its steps carefully and waiting for the right opportunity to re-obtain the host which wielded the power to help it continue to thrive, Mono.
And yet... when Noone encounters the flesh in the Mall, she describes it as being in a place surrounded by complete silence, there was nothing and no one around it, nor inside it, it was terribly lonely and she in turn could feel it. When she came along, it was desperate to keep her... but the Ferryman wouldn't allow it to keep her....but why?
Noone said the Ferryman/Candleman wanted her to open up to the "place" she was in...and yet...as she ran from the flesh, he pointed to the pendant around her neck, the one thing she was willing to take from it, as if telling her to rid herself of any and all connections to the flesh which now aimed to keep her by force. The Ferryman/Candleman wanted her to open herself up to the place she was in, but not to the Mall she had entered. As the flesh cried out, “don’t take her, not this one to”, we learn Noone was not the first child the Ferryman/Candleman had taken away from the flesh...but why couldn't it keep them? unless...what if maybe...just maybe....it was not fit to keep one. When Noone first entered the Mall, it tried to maintain appearances, but all around, Noone could see errors upon errors. The shops had nothing to display, the doors were gone, the movie in the theater, which she used to love, was out of order and unappealing to watch, and when it attempted to speak throughout the Mall, she could hear it slip, allowing its desperation to get the better of it.
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Many theorists and I have theorized there were always other living structures throughout the world like the Maw and the Black Tower, but we have only ever seen what had become of those which succeeded in dominating wherever it was they took root...but…what if this was not the case for all the others?, what if…there were some who failed? If the Mall is truly a living structure similar to the Tower and the Maw, and if it has truly been restricted from keeping any child which could take the role of its host, then...what if maybe...just maybe...this was its punishment for failing to live up to its existence.
Without a host, the Mall would have no way to thrive, and with no one and nothing around it...would it have simply been left to die? Warped by pain, growing weaker and weaker as time went on to the point it could barely maintain itself and appear as the mall Noone expected it to be?....maybe. We've always theorized powerful structures like the Maw and the Tower were extensions of the eye entity, and so long as places such as this continued to live and thrive, the entity would as well....but if smaller...more insignificant places proved to be worthless to it, then...what good would it do it if they continued to exist. The Mall needed someone...but it couldn't even have "No one"... but hey...its just a theory...a Little Nightmares theory.
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fallingthruspace · 4 months ago
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Saw Beetlejuice Beetlejuice earlier today & here are my thoughts:
Overall I loved the movie and had a lot of fun. I was laughing pretty much the entire time and it was great seeing these characters I love so much on screen together again🖤💚
🚨Major spoilers under the cut!🚨
- Lydia having one of those paranormal investigation/ghost hunting shows was actually hilarious, especially when they brought out the night vision
- LOOOVED seeing all the different types of dead people in the netherworld, the makeup & special effects were phenomenal
- Even when all we saw of Rory was a few scenes in the trailers I already didn't like him. Watching the actual movie made me hate his slimy ass even more & watching him get eaten by a sandworm was satisfying
- Bob did not deserve that #justiceforbob
-I think it was a mistake to have both the Delores & Jeremy plotlines. Squeezing both into the movie left them feeling rushed & underdeveloped, whereas if we just had one there would have been room to really flesh it out. Monica Belluci was severely underutilized & the ending ended up feeling kind of anticlimatic. But that's really my only gripe with the film.
- While not exactly a gripe, I really wish Beetlejuice had more scenes with Lydia & Astrid. Watching those three play off each other would have been fun.
- Also kind of disappointed that Beej & Lydia didn't actually get married this time, but with the film having what looked to me like an open ending maybe there will be a chance for them if/when Beetlejuice 3 happens? I think it would be absolutely hilarious for Lydia to realize she's actually falling for Beetlejuice & having one of those "oh....oh NO" moments😆 (and Beej being smug as HELL when he finds out of course)
- I am SO GLAD they brought back Danny Elfman to do the music
- Soul Train was great, as well as the use of McArthur Park
- I can't decide if the movie was actually rushed or if I was having so much fun it just felt that way. I would have gladly watched another 30-40 minutes of this film with no complaints
- The little reference to the Maitland's in the model during the opening credits was a blink & you miss it scene but still really cool
There's probably something else I'm forgetting but all in all I'd give the movie 4.5 out of 5 stars. Definitely would recommend & I'm hoping to see it one more time before it leaves theaters
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k-evans-reads · 2 years ago
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In Living Color
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Chapter 13 - Part Three
Summary: When Natalie Marton, lead character designer for Buzz Lightyear, meets the voice of Buzz, Chris Evans, the sparks are undeniable. But when their work pushes them away from each other, both physically and emotionally, will the sheer differences between their worlds be enough to force them apart?
Pairing: Chris Evans x Pixar Animator OFC Natalie Marton
Word Count: 5,128
By: @k-evans-writes and @ourfinest-hour
We do NOT give permission for our works to be reuploaded, translated, or reposted on any other site. Our work is our own.
Warnings: None.
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Previous | Main Masterlist | In Living Color Masterlist
October 30th, 2021
“Nat! Are you almost ready? We’re going to be late!” Chris yelled down the hall as he glanced at his phone, seeing the time passing with not much left before Tara’s party started. 
“Yeah, be ready in a second!” Her voice echoed. 
Satisfied with her answer, Chris plunked down at a kitchen chair and put his hand out for Dodger, letting the pooch sniff him before his tail began to wag when Chris scratched him. As Chris sat there at the kitchen table, he couldn’t help but feel excited at the night ahead. When he was back home in Boston, he loved being able to spend time with his lifelong friends, surrounded by the people who had known him since he was that dorky teenage theater kid. Some of these people had become like his family and it felt so good to be able to introduce Nat into this group, knowing that they’d all fall in love with her just as easily as he had. 
Tara’s Halloween party had felt like the perfect place to bring her too, it being a more low pressure and fun environment but even now, only a half hour before the party began, Nat still wouldn’t tell him what her costume was. He had decided on Crocodile Dundee, one of his favorite movies from the 80’s and had even completed the look with a blow up alligator that Nat had gotten him. Although he’d been bugging her for over a week to try to find out what plans she had for her costume, she wouldn’t say a word. 
Being the wildly creative artist that she was, he knew it’d probably be something a little more out of the box but when she finally rounded the corner into the kitchen, Chris couldn’t stop himself from flopping backward in his chair, a hand flying to smack his chest and a loud hysterical laugh pouring out of him as he pushed out through his rapid fire laugh, “What is that?” 
“Hello, I am Inigo Montoya. You killed my father. Prepare to die,” Nat told him with an accent so bad that even a children’s theater production would have criticized it. 
“I can’t believe that’s your costume,” his laughter was still bubbling out while he took in her entire look, asking, “What is that mustache put on with?” 
“I drew it on with my eyebrow pencil,” Nat told him before a smirk appeared on her lips, noting that, “It looks better than the one you had earlier this year.” 
At the comment, he rolled his eyes even though he was full of amusement and asked her, “Still never going to let me live that down?” 
“Nope.”
Chris finally stood up, ready to get going but when he took another look at Nat in that costume, he burst into laughter yet again. She was about to be meeting almost all of his lifelong friends for the first time and yet she’d chosen to dress in a costume complete with a mustache. But that was just the epitome of Nat, completely unafraid to be herself, and that was one of the things he loved the most about her. 
“I have to say,” Nat began, pulling his attention to her and letting him see the way her eyes were raking him up and down before her hands came out to rub his bare chest that was showing underneath the small vest he had on. “I really like this choice of costume for you.” 
“You’ve got a thing for Croc Dundee, don’t you?” He smirked, arms coming to wrap around her waist. 
“When he looks like you, yeah,” was her easy response. 
Chris smiled as he leaned down to press their lips together, his eyes closing as he focused just on the feeling of her lips on his while her hands rubbed around his sides before he felt them rubbing along his back. He always loved feeling her touch, loving her hands on his skin and he shivered slightly from the way her fingers trailed down his back before coming down to squeeze at his firm ass, making him feel warm from the inside out. He started to not care about the fact they might be late to the party and instead began to wish they would be late, but when he pulled back momentarily to catch his breath and his blue eyes fluttered halfway open, his hands dropped from her as he burst into his loud laughter yet again. 
“I’m sorry, I just cannot take you seriously with that mustache!” 
“You didn’t seem to mind a minute ago,” Nat smiled as her arms wrapped around him again but even with that beautiful smile, he couldn’t help but keep snickering when he saw that fake mustache above her lip. 
“Well I mind when I have to look at it!” he said through his loud laughter as he turned to grab his phone off of the counter and look over to check that Dodger had plenty of water. 
They headed out of the front door once Nat got a notification that their Uber was there, discreetly booked under her name. As they headed towards the driveway, they slipped face masks on, quiet once they got into the car. She made small talk with the driver for a few minutes as Chris stayed quiet, letting Tara know they were on their way and would be there soon. 
The party was in full swing once they got there, with much of Chris’ longtime friend group in the open living space, laughing with drinks in hand while dressed in various full costumes. Once they stuck their masks in Nat’s bag, he started introducing Nat to everybody as Nick, one of his high school buddies, brought him a beer and offered Nat one as well. But it wasn’t long before Tara, the hostess and his longtime best friend, found them near the kitchen. 
Nat was whispering something to Chris with a chuckle as Tara walked up to them, a large smile on her face as she said, “I finally get to meet the famous Nat.” 
Nat glanced at Chris oddly, a faint blush appearing on her cheeks. “I’m not sure that I want to know what I’m famous for,” she laughed as she shook her head. 
Tara didn’t hesitate to reassure Nat, “Mostly for Chris never shutting up about you.” 
“I left out the fact she has that mustache though,” he smirked, looking down at Nat with a chuckle as she rolled her eyes. “She’s a little self conscious about it.” 
“He’s just jealous that mine is better than his ever was.” 
Tara’s eyes widened as she took a sip of her drink, smirking as she agreed, “That last one he had was hideous.” 
“And Nattie started dating me with that mustache so the joke’s on her,” Chris chuckled, smirking once Nat rolled her eyes.
“Yeah and I told you it had to be shaved before you came back into the country,” she muttered, but a faint smile appeared on her lips as his arm wound around her waist. He remembered the threat well, one that he’d made sure to follow before he even began packing up for his flight back to Massachusetts in July to get Dodger. 
“I’m just glad I never had to see it in person,” Tara laughed as Chris rolled his eyes. After pausing to sip her drink again, she gestured to Chris and told him, “I like the Croc Dundee costume though, that’s so good!” 
But at Nat’s huff of laughter, he knew she couldn’t help but interject her usual sarcasm, not one to skip out on the chance to embarrass him a little. “He just is using Halloween as a chance to be half-naked,” she informed Tara, squirming with a laugh as Chris’ hand squeezed her rear. “He wants to remind everyone he’s still ripped even though he’s old.” 
He took a long sip from the bottle in his hand, shaking his head as he murmured, “Careful there Nattie, I seem to recall someone has a birthday soon.” 
“Yeah to turn thirty-four,” she laughed just before she indulged in some of her drink, then reached to tuck a strand of curls behind her ear. Her eyes were moving over the party throughout the home before they returned to Chris and Tara. She met Chris’ eyes with a genuinely happy smile and he returned it, knowing how happy he was that she was here with his friends. 
He shook his head as the women laughed, telling them, “You know, I’m really regretting bringing you to this party already.” 
“What because then you can’t have all the spotlight and show off your muscles?” Nat asked as she bumped his hip with hers playfully. 
He ignored Nat, but tightened his arm and brought her closer to him as he turned his attention to Tara, informing her, “Tara, I think we need to change this party and only allow people over forty in.” 
But Tara’s brows furrowed and she frowned almost instantaneously, protesting, “No way, I like her!” 
“See? You’re not getting rid of me that easily,” Nat smirked, looking up at Chris with a mischievous expression. He rolled his eyes before he pressed a kiss to her forehead as she said, “Tara, can I ask where your bathroom is?” 
Tara nodded, pointing to the hall near the back door, instructing Nat, “Yeah it’s right down the back hallway on the left.” 
Nat leaned up to peck Chris’ lips and handed him her beer before she slipped out of his embrace and headed towards the bathroom. He watched her until she disappeared from sight, unaware of his grin until Tara laughed, shaking her head at the dopey look on his face. 
“Okay I like her already,” Tara decided, taking a fresh drink from her husband, Will, as he passed by on his way to the living room. 
The grin remained on Chris’ face as he nodded, telling her knowingly, “That’s pretty much a theme with Nat. Nobody can usually go more than five minutes without liking her.” 
“I think she’s going to fit in with everyone really well. She certainly can hold her own and bust your chops,” Tara smiled, her voice dropping before she asked, “How did it go the other day with her meeting your family?” 
“It went great, they all love her already,” Chris supplied. It truly had gone better than he’d imagined, with Nat fitting right into their chaos without missing a beat. He knew they’d grown up in both wildly similar and wildly different ways, with circumstances, locations, and styles, but it’d felt as if Nat had grown up alongside the family with how well she’d adjusted, in a matter of minutes, to their craziness. “Ma is crazy about her. I’ve never seen her like a girlfriend of mine this much before.” 
“I think I can see why,” Tara assured him. She paused for a moment, her eyes studying Chris, before asking,  “...You’re really happy, aren’t you?” 
“God, I am Tara,” he confessed. He’d never gone much longer than a day without being so insanely happy it’d scared him since he and Nat had gotten together, minus the chaos of needing to clue Meghan into the PR storm. Nat made him happy. She made him feel safe, loved, and wanted, in a way he never had before. He missed her so much while he had been alone in Boston the last month that he’d come close to going back to Los Angeles several times. He never had that feeling before, the feeling that made him want to be somewhere he actively dreaded in any other circumstance. But Nat was there. Los Angeles was her base, and as long as she was anywhere, he’d follow her there. 
“Nat seems like a special girl,” Tara mused, breaking him out of his thoughts. 
“She’s more than that,” he admitted, shrugging as he pursed his lips. “She’s… my best friend.” 
And those words that so easily came spilling out of his mouth almost surprised him. It was the first thing that had popped into his brain even though he’d never cognizantly thought about it, but hearing himself say it made him realize just how true it was. Nat had so effortlessly become his best friend in every sense of the word. Whether he was happy, tired, stressed out, or unsure about something, Nat was always the first one he turned to. She was his source of comfort, understanding, laughter, and wisdom and he knew that she was the only one he wanted to fill that spot in his life. 
Those feelings were only solidified as the party was in full swing and Chris watched Nat easily fall in with his friends, most of whom he’d known almost his entire life. It wasn’t surprising to him to be able to see her so easily charm everyone, laughing and joking around with everyone as if they had known her just as long as him. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t already known just how hopelessly in love with Nat that he was, that was a fact that was painfully obvious to him almost constantly, but having her here with him in Boston was that last missing piece that sealed the deal for him. Seeing Nat finally meeting his family and friends and fitting in so easily only reminded him that she truly was the one for him. She was the girl he was starting to believe would only be true in his dreams, but here she was, and she was his. 
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October 31st, 2021
Chris glanced down at the display of the car as Nat changed the radio station, smiling faintly to himself at the happy look on her face. Getting to spend time with Nat in Boston had felt like heaven to him, but as her return flight to Los Angeles lingered over their heads, he knew their time together was coming to a close. 
So far, her last full day with him in Massachusetts had been spent exploring his old stomping grounds, driving by the youth theater he so fondly remembered, his schools, and a few houses he grew up in before his mother moved into her current home. He showed her all over with a smile on his face as he recalled story after story full of laughter, Nat’s hand squeezing his thigh softly each time she fell into laughter as she got to hear each and every memory. 
Once they’d returned to the house in the early afternoon, they had enjoyed the slow afternoon just eating lunch, walking Dodger and spent the rest of the time fully connected as they tangled in the sheets in his comfortable bed. It was growing darker as they laid together, Chris just loving the feeling of having Nat laying on top of him, his hands running up and down her bare back after they’d worn each other out for the second time, but their quiet moment was interrupted when he felt a rumble in her stomach. 
Although they couldn’t seem to rouse themselves to life right away, eventually they made it into the shower so they could get ready for one meal together. Once they were both ready and Dodger was set to be alone for a few hours, they headed to the car and towards town, where Chris had booked a table at one of his favorite restaurants. They figured that given the discretion his hometown commonly gave him, along with the holiday tonight, they’d be able to fly relatively under the radar, and that was a risk he was willing to take at this point. He’d only been able to take Nattie out a couple times before, with them having spent most of their time in California in their own homes, and he wanted to go all out for her tonight. 
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He was navigating the car through the back roads as Nat’s phone buzzed in the cupholder. She hummed along to the song playing softly over the speakers, but soon she laughed loudly as she read the message. 
“Alex just sent a text in the family group text announcing that she is still pregnant and not very happy about it,” she told Chris, unlocking her phone with a swipe of her thumb with a smirk on her face. 
“I’m sure not,” Chris chuckled with a shake of his head, his eyebrows furrowing as he wondered, “Isn’t she a week overdue?” 
“A week and a half,” Nat corrected as she finished typing on her phone and slid it into her bag. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see her rest her head back against the headrest and look over at him as she said, “She’s so ready for that baby to come out.” 
“Did they finally decide on a name?” 
“They’re still deciding but I’m pretty sure it’s going to be Jack. That seems to be the one they keep coming back to,” she informed just as Chris pulled into the parking lot and parked the car. Their conversation halted for a long moment while they climbed out of the car, Chris locking it and sliding the key in his pocket before he tossed an arm around Nat’s shoulders as they walked toward the doors of the restaurant. 
He couldn’t help but feel so happy as he felt Nat lean in against his frame while they walked, making him feel the need to press a soft kiss to the top of her head, just so content that he has his Nattie here with him. It felt so good to not be looking over his shoulder here, being able to just walk into one of his frequented restaurants with his arm around the girl that he loved and be tucked into a back corner table across from her. Chris knew he had an ear to ear smile on his face as he looked across the table at her, seeing those cute curls and sparkling eyes shining as she finished out her thought from the car and wistfully mused, “I can’t wait to get to hold that baby.” 
“Do you think you’re going to fly up there once he’s born?” He asked as he took a sip from the water glass in front of her, eyes locked on Nat’s instead of the menu in front of him.
She frowned, glancing down at the menu resting in front of her before admitting, “I don’t think so. I really want to but with taking time off to come here and how much work we have, I just don’t think I can.” 
“And you’re going to be back there in just a couple weeks for Thanksgiving,” Chris added with a nod. He felt bad that he indirectly made Nat unable to visit home, but he quickly pushed that guilt aside, knowing Nat would’ve spoken up – like she had in the beginning of the month – if she didn’t want to come in favor of seeing – what she had theorized – baby Jack in the next week. 
“Exactly so it just makes sense to wait,” she agreed with a shrug, smiling as the waiter dropped off her glass of wine and his beer at the table. She took a sip of the glass of red before adding, “Besides, with Heather, my dad, and Alex’s in-law’s, there will be enough help the first few weeks without me.”
He smirked as he drank some of the beer, leaning back in his seat and telling her, “I have a feeling my phone is going to be blowing up that whole week you’re home with thousands of pictures of that baby.” 
“Oh you know it will,” she assured him before she paused, shifting a bit in her seat. “But there was something I wanted to ask you about Thanksgiving…” 
“What’s that, baby?” He asked, his brows raising as his eyes locked onto hers curiously. 
“Well, I wanted to see if you might like to come home with me for Thanksgiving,” she offered, a hopeful look on her face. She looked more tentative than she had in a long time, almost nervous. But he was able to quell those fears with his answer. 
“Nattie, I’d love to,” he immediately said, knowing that it was true. He had already tossed around the idea of inviting her to come back here and spend Thanksgiving with his own family but had decided on forgoing that with Alex having her baby. Chris knew that there would be no way Nat would want to miss out on being around her brand new nephew and he certainly didn’t blame her. As much as he was bubbling with excitement over being invited to a holiday with her, he wanted to ask, “Is your family alright with that?” 
“They’re actually the ones who brought it up,” Nat laughed softly while leaning back in the booth, her hands motioning back and forth as she explained, “I had wanted to invite you and was going to ask them, but Heather is the one who asked if I’d bring you.” 
A hand came to rest on his chest as he honestly told her, “I’d be honored to come.” Chris felt his brain churning as he thought through his schedule for the next month, knowing he really only had a few ASP things to do before some reshoots in December and thought out loud, “I was planning on coming back to California for your birthday so maybe I’ll just stay and then we could go to Seattle the week after.” 
“You won’t find me complaining about getting to have you longer,” Nat’s smile was shining as she gazed across the table at him, but their moment was briefly interrupted when a waiter came over. Both of them shared a soft laugh, realizing they had barely looked at the menu but each made a quick decision and put their order in, soon being alone once again. 
Chris’ eyes flickered down when he saw Nat’s hand reaching across the table, opening up her palm and silently asking for his touch which he gladly gave as he put his hand in hers and held it gently as she looked at him with nothing but happiness on her face as she told him, “I’m so excited that you’re going to come.” 
“I am too,” he honestly spoke before his mind started to drift at the one plan coming up that he hated she wasn’t part of, muttering, “I still wish you could come with me and my family to Disney World after Thanksgiving.” 
He still hated looking at his calendar and seeing the trip that he looked forward to every single year with the people he loved most and knowing that she wasn’t going to be there. Chris wanted to have her there with him, sharing in that special memory but when they had talked it through a few weeks ago, both of them had admitted what they didn’t want to and that was the fact that it would be better if she didn’t go. Between having not met his entire family at that point, and knowing they’d have at least one person taking photos of them, it seemed like an illogical choice to have her come, but it didn’t mean that he wasn’t still disappointed. 
“I do too, but I think we made the right choice,” Nat nodded while tucking some of her curls behind her ear with her free hand as she went on, “Having that picture leak this past summer was stressful enough but at Disney World, we’re assured of having someone take our picture.” 
“Yeah…” he trailed off with a sigh, just staring down at their intertwined hands as he shook his head. “I’m really sorry, Nat. I’m sorry that it is this way.” 
Chris couldn’t help but feel guilty about it all. He loved being able to act, having a creative profession be his life, but sometimes he hated what came along with it and that it affected the people that he loved most. Sometimes he still found himself wishing that he could go on vacation, head to a baseball game, or out to a movie and have his arms around Nat without having to worry about someone sneaking a picture of them and the inevitable storm that would follow on the internet. 
“It’s okay, Chris. It’s not your fault,” Nat’s hand squeezed his as she looked at him with resolve in her eyes, going on to reassure him, “And I want you to know that when it comes time that we need to be public, I’ll be okay.” 
He knew it was true. He knew that Nat would be alright and that she could handle it, but he hated that she had to. Chris hated so much of what came with fame for himself, let alone what it brought to the people that he loved. Normally nearly six months into a relationship he wasn’t that worried about it yet, but with Nat it was different. He knew that this was going somewhere. This wasn’t some fling or passionate romance that would burn out. This was something special, but with that came the knowledge that this was going to affect her even more than it already had and he hung his head while acknowledging, “I just know that this isn’t what you want and I’m just sorry you have to deal with all of it just because you’re with me.” 
“I guess you’re worth it,” Nat playfully joked with a soft squeeze to his hand, getting his attention and waiting for his eyes to meet hers before she continued, “But I mean it Chris, I will be okay when the time comes.” 
“I promise I’ll handle it better than I did before.” 
“We’ll handle it together,” she stated firmly before her tone softened, “For now I’m pretty content having it be just us, though.” 
“Me too, Nattie,” his low voice rumbled before he gently lifted her hand to place a sweet kiss in the palm of her hand. 
“I’m really going to miss you when I go back tonight,” she whispered, a sad smile on her face as she looked across the table at him. “This weekend has been so perfect.” 
His shoulders slouched a bit in relief as he laughed to himself, shaking his head as he confessed, “I was really hoping that you’d like it here in Massachusetts.” 
“I do like it here,” she assured him, then paused and surprised him as she admitted, “But I mostly like it because I love seeing you here.” 
Chris��� brows furrowed in confusion, unsure what she was saying. He knew he lived almost two separate lives for the last two decades of his life – there was the Chris who spent most of the years working on sets and walking red carpets, then there was the Chris who grew up in Sudbury and loved being back home with his family, childhood friends, and his dog…. And now Nat. But still, he felt as though the lines had become blurred in the last few years, with work dropping steadily post-Marvel when he intended to take some time to relax after a busy few years, but then with the pandemic he spent more time back home in 2020 than ever intended. And he was happy then, don’t get him wrong, getting to be with his family nearly daily and no work upcoming, but he craved getting to spend his life with someone. He never anticipated that going to that morning meeting in February would set them on this path together, coincidentally during one of his busiest seasons in a long time, but 2021 had become the happiest year yet… and it was all because of spending so much time getting to know Nattie in Los Angeles. “What do you mean?” He asked her. 
“I just love getting to see you be able to relax,” she murmured with a shrug, her eyes looking around for a moment before landing on him, a soft easy grin on her lips as Nat explained, “You’re just so… happy here.” 
“I am happy here,” he easily agreed. He knew so much of being here and choosing to live in the area was because of the fond memories from his childhood and youth, but also because this is where his entire family was still based. They still came home for every holiday, every birthday, and event, and getting to have a close-knit circle still felt essential to Chris with all the chaos that came along with his career. But so much of those thoughts now centered on what it meant for him and Nat, what luxuries it provided him given the unspoken discretion and privacy the town provided him with. They wouldn’t have to worry about paparazzi lingering on every busy street corner, impeding on their privacy. “I love being able to run errands with my Ma and take Dodger out for walks and have my own home that actually feels like a home. But having you here made it even better because we finally were able to go to the grocery store, and out to breakfast or for drives without having to look over our shoulders. I love being able to just live my life with the people that I love here.” 
Her smile grew into a pleased one, one that told him she understood every word. “I’m really happy that I get to be one of those people,” she whispered, squeezing his hand before she straightened up, the slightly-giddy expression remaining. 
“I am too, Nattie. I love you so fucking much and seeing you here with my friends and my family only reminds me just how thankful I am to have you in my life,” he whispered, watching as her eyes grew damp at those words just as the waiter came by with their food.
They enjoyed their last few hours together, talking about Nat's recent invitation to be featured at an upcoming art show, and before Chris knew it, he was sitting in the driver’s seat of his car, watching Nat’s retreating figure as she headed into the departures terminal at Logan International alone, her suitcase rolling next to her. The entire drive home was spent in thought, even as Nat sent him texts and let him know when she got through security and made it to the gate. He missed her so much already, and as if it was possible, his home and town felt emptier without her presence. He knew she was it for him, and while that thought would have scared him this early on in any other relationship, it only made him more excited to get to see her in just nine short days. 
A/N: We hope you enjoyed Boston just as much as they did! We can't wait to hear your thoughts ❤️
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Is It Really That Bad?
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It’s hard to believe nowadays, but there was a time where the Tim Burton/Johnny Depp duo was known for delivering nothing but certified bangers. Edward Scissorhands, Ed Wood, Sleepy Hollow… It was just hit after hit when these two joined forces. But in the mid 2000s, something shifted. It suddenly seemed like people were sick of Burton, sick of Depp, and most of all sick of them working together. Sure, Corpse Bride and Sweeney Todd were still well-liked, but once Alice in Wonderland hit theaters people weren’t shy about voicing their dislike of the director and especially the actor. Burton kind of skidded to a halt for a while, while Depp just kept making increasingly worse movies with Disney and generally not doing anything worthwhile after Rango, and while Alice was the breaking point, the cracks started to show in 2005 with a little film called Charlie and the Chocolate Factory.
An attempt to redo Roald Dahl’s novel about a precocious child touring the candy factory of a wacky candymaker was being planned for a long time, with even Nicolas Cage in talks at one point to be Wonka, and at another point good ol’ Martin Scorcese was attached to direct. But things just kept falling through until Burton got dragged in, and from there he proceeded to get things done and talk the studio out of stupid decisions like killing off Charlie’s dad and making Wonka a parental figure. Ah, but speaking of Wonka, that crucial role needed filling, and it seemed a lot of famous actors were considered for the role by the studio—Robin Williams, Patrick Stewart, Michael Keaton, Steve Martin, Bill Murray, Christopher Walken, Brad Pitt, Leslie Nielsen, Robert De Niro, Will Smith, Mike Meyers, Ben Stiller, pretty much every living member of Monty Python left at the time, Adam Sandler, and Marilyn Manson among them according to TVTropes—and Burton had an interesting idea for his second pick to play the guy:
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But instead he went for his first pick, someone who’s actually very similar to Marilyn Manson in a lot of ways! Good ol’ reliable JD himself! Surely this was gonna bring in the big bucks! And... it did! It's the highest-grossing adaptation of one of Dahl's works ever, and Burton's second highest-grossing film!
Critics seemed mostly fine with it, but audiences were a lot more divided. Some people liked that it was a new and different take on the story that stayed a lot more true to the book than the beloved 1971 Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory (a movie that Dahl famously hated as much as he did Jewish people, so frankly who gives a shit about his opinion), while others clung to the nostalgia of the Gene Wilder Wonka and treated this new film like a war crime. How dare they remake their favorite movie, even though this isn't a remake, it's just a different adaptation of the same book!
So yes, this movie isn’t the most reviled film out there, but it definitely is incredibly divisive, and what’s more I distinctly recall even as a child being aware of the attitude towards Depp and Burton shifting towards the more negative when this film came out. So I figured it was a high time I see about revisiting it and find out if this second cinematic outing into Wonka’s factory was really that bad, or if it genuinely was a work of impure imagination.
THE GOOD
It may surprise you to hear that this film actually does a few things better than the 1971 film. This is especially evident in the four shitty children touring the factory with Charlie.
The ones from Willy Wonka were, to put it bluntly, dull and forgettable, and came off as far too sympathetic in regards to their fate because none of them aside from Veruca Salt showcased any terrible traits that would lead to them deserving their punishments. In this film, all these kids are assholes, so watching them fall prey to the karmic justice of Wonka's factory is all the more satisfying. We also get to see what happens to them after they get out, which is kind of funny. I’m not gonna pretend that they made them the deepest and most complex characters ever, but with how they updated them and with the young actors they got to portray them, they managed to inject a bit more life into them than you’d expect.
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This movie also fixes Grandpa Joe, who is pretty infamous to fans of the '71 film as a total asshole who constantly encourages Charlie to steal and just in general seems like a massive burden to his family. Here, he actually is every bit the sweet old grandpa that you’d expect, and his motivations for wanting to go on the tour are a lot nicer and more sympathetic. He also never tries to push Charlie into a life of crime, which is nice.
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Of course, the very best aspect of this movie is Deep motherfucking Roy. He’s the second best dwarf actor out there, only oovershadowed by Warwick “Leprechaun” Davis, and much like Davis was in Star Wars as the ultimate Glup Shitto—Droopy McCool.
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And in this film he gets the incredible honor of being every single fucking Oompa-Loompa there is, and he is clearly having a blast and busting his ass. He had no prior dancing experience, but you could not tell with how he’s pulling off all these sick moves while spitting out diss tracks for children like he’s Blood on the Dance Floor. He really is the single best actor in the movie, and that’s not to slander anyone else—Roy is just that good. Like we have a scene-stealing minor role for Christopher Lee as Wonka’s dad, a crabby dentist who hates candy, and as amazing as he is Roy still is better. You better respect this man.
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Speaking of men to respect: Danny Elfman. Taking lyrics straight from the book and weaving a unique style for each kid—Big Bollywood spectacle for Augustus (that was Roy’s idea), 70s funk for Violet, psychedelic rock for Veruca, and hard rock for Mike—the songs are all genuinely great and fun to listen to. I’d never go as far as to say they’re more iconic than the Oompa-Loompa tracks from the ‘71 film, but I think they function better as songs, and the fact each of them has their own distinct style to set them apart from each other was the right way to go. I do think Mike’s song is the weakest of the bunch, feeling a lot messier than the other three, but it’s not unbearably awful or anything.
THE BAD
The biggest issue with the film is that the two most important characters—Charlie and Wonka—fucking suck.
Let’s start with Charlie. Now, to be clear, I’m not putting any blame on Freddie Highmore—he was literally a child, and even then I think he’s doing his damndest to make Charlie cute and whimsical. The issue here is definitely on the writers, who saw fit to stuff him full of all the syrupy sweet Tiny Tim-esque kind-hearted poor child cliches but forgot to impart a personality to go with them. Charlie is, to put it bluntly, a boring and generic nice guy, and one who ends up feeling like a living plot device to further Wonka’s character development, something that feels especially egregious when his name is literally in the title.
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And now let’s talk about Wonka. Boy, is there a lot to unpack with this guy.
Literally everything about this take on Wonka is incredibly awkward and off-putting. The most infamous aspect of him is definitely the look; with his pale skin and dorky haircut he looked a lot like Michael Jackson, who at the time the film came out was going through a very serious scandal where he was accused of doing awful things to children in his big rich guy mansion… which is essentially the plot of this film when you think about it.
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But that’s just an unfortunate coincidence! It’s an ugly look, sure, but a good performance could make it palatable, and this was Johnny Depp during his big post-Jack Sparrow renaissance working together with the guy who helped put him on the map. Surely he wouldn’t deliver an incredibly awkward, cringey, and insufferable performance that dials up all his acting quirks to annoying levels, right?
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Here’s the thing: On paper, Depp’s Wonka is honestly not that different than Wilder’s. They’re both weird, quirky, reclusive confectioners with a not-so-hidden disdain for the kids touring their factory and snarky, condescending attitudes. What it all comes down to is the presentation, and to show you what I mean I’m going to use the most batshit comparison you’ve ever seen:
Burton’s Wonka is very similar to Zack Snyder’s Ozymandias.
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“Now hold on, Michael,” I hear you exclaiming in utter bewilderment, “how are these two comparable? I know that both are fine with the wonton murder of children if it helps achieve their goals and that a lot of people are weirdly horny for them, but how is this a good comparison?” Well luckily I’m not trying to compare a mass-murdering anti-villain to a quirky chocolatier in terms of character, but in how the adaptation drops the ball with how they’re presented by removing the more warm and positive aspects of them. In Alan Moore’s comic, Adrian Veidt is essentially a relentlessly charming gigachad, an affable and approachable fellow who seems beneath suspicion because he exudes a traditionally heroic warmth. In the movie, however, Snyder chose to portray Veidt as a cold, distant twink who doesn’t seem particularly approachable at all (another case of Daddy Zaddy tragically missing Moore’s point).
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This same "missing the point" issue plagues Wonka. Yes, Wilder’s take is just as much a smug asshole reveling in the comeuppance the children are receiving, but he also has a genuine warmth to him which is codified perfectly with him singing “Pure Imagination.” Sure, he’s perfectly willing to traumatize everyone with a demented boat ride shortly after, but Wilder’s performance and the presentation of his Wonks help sell him as a quirky genius who is more likable than insufferable, and you really understand how despite being kind of a dick he is also a beloved figure.
Depp’s Wonka fails as the character in the same basic ways that the movie version of Veidt does: He's a condescending, cold, openly rude, guy who is just genuinely unpleasant to be around despite the movie really trying hard to make him likable and relatable, to the point where unlike Wilder's take it's hard to grasp why this guy gets any respect from anyone. He’s like the proto-Rick Sanchez, except he’s not even particularly funny to make up for it. Maybe this take is more accurate to the book, but if it is it’s really just proof that taking liberties when adapting really is for the best.
And this failure is only compounded by the movie piling on a tragic backstory for Wonka. Yes, Christopher Lee is great, but there is genuinely no need to pile on a traumatic childhood and weird daddy issues to Willy Wonka. The character works best as this weird, trickster mentor figure who dishes out karma to the naughty kids and ultimately rewards the good egg of the bunch. Trying to bring a guy with a magical factory full of dwarfs who do choreographed diss tracks every time a kid falls into the incinerator down to earth and make him relatable is just a mind-boggling decision.
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These are really the only two issues with the film that stand out as excessively bad, but… you see the problem, right? The titular character and the owner of the titular chocolate factory are both bad. One’s a living prop, the other is just an obnoxious asshat who is given unneeded character development that ends up falling flat, and while this would be easy to ignore if they were side characters it’s impossible to let slide since they are the main fucking characters. The whole film revolves around the two very worst things in it, and no matter how good the other stuff in the movie is these elements alone drag it down a lot.
IS IT REALLY THAT BAD?
Look, I’m not going to pretend like this is a great film. If it really is closer to Dahl’s book, all it managed to do is convince me to never read it and solidified my belief that being pragmatic when adapting books to screen is the way to go. It’s also really easy to see how the Burton-Depp fatigue came about, as this is some of the weakest work in both of their filmographies.
But I still feel like there’s plenty to like here. The songs, the bratty kids, Deep motherfucking Roy, it’s all genuinely good shit! There was never a chance it was going to be iconic as the Wilder film, but it’s disingenuous to write it off entirely when it does a lot good things (and a few things better than the '71 version). A lot of people are nostalgic for this one these days, as it's the one this generation grew up with, and honestly? I can't really blame them entirely. It's a decent enough movie, and I honestly think that score it has up there is pretty fair. It's certainly a mixed bag but when it actually succeeds at being charming it does it in its own unique way rather than trying to ape the beloved classic that came before it, and I do respect it for that.
And hey, if Johnny Depp's worst and most annoying movie role is in a movie I'd still say is okay, that's a good thing right? He couldn't possibly ever take a role more cringeworthy and annoying than Wonka in a film that's genuinely shitty, right?
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Right?
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RIGHT?!
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