#jesus. anyways this show rocks

[ech0light]

JUST WATCHED THE LAST 2 EPISODES OF PERSONS OF INTEREST SEASON 2 HAS ANYONE ELSE SEEN THIS SHIT PLEASE

[chryso-chryso]

melody journey ep8's 荒芜之地 performance is now on spotify!!!!!

(i don't think there will be a performance for next week. what a relief, honestly! this show's filming schedule was ridiculous)

(edit: no performance for ep 10, either! alas)

ep 1, ep 2, ep 3, ep 4, ep 6, ep 7, ep 11!

[sucktacular]

Shower good. 👍👍👍

In bed now. Considering making a hot bowl of instant noodles ...

[thundersoothers]

john price, his wife, and... the dog (derogatory)

who: John Price x wife!reader

what: inspired by this thought about john price being an absolutely softie for his wife. continued here!

word count: 2.4k

warnings: mentions of cheating but it’s NOT TRUE! you’ll see… just fluff that reallyyyyy makes me want to marry this man.

It’s 2AM on a Saturday in the summer when John Price thinks he hears his wife cheating on him. 

“Shhh!!  You have to be quiet, you’ll wake up my husband.” 

He opens his heavy eyes to see the TV paused at the end credits of some movie he can’t even remember the name of.  The screen reflects in the crystal of the empty rocks glass on the coffee table next to his feet, holding only a warm whiskey stone.  

He groans and stretches, his old t-shirt riding up to show a dark happy trail disappearing into low-waisted flannel pajama pants.  He has one sock on with a hole in the toe.  You told him to get rid of them and got him a pack of 20 of the same sock (he’s very particular about his socks), but he still wears these ones, anyway. 

“Stop moving, I’m trying to concentrate here.  Damn lock… can never— oh, shit.  Heh. Wrong key.” 

He can hear you muttering and giggling and the scratch of the key against the lock as you struggle to get it in. 

It’s your girls’ night and he likes to wait up for you to make sure you get in safely.  He saw you off around 8PM, pouring himself a glass of whiskey as you took a shot of tequila.  You planted a big kiss on his cheek, leaving a red lipstick mark that he didn’t bother to fully wipe off. 

“Sorry, I know you’re eager to get inside.  I bet you’re so cold, all naked.  Here, you can go in my dress, is that better?  Fu—ow!  Don’t bite my tit, Jesus!  Sharp teeth…” 

Price suddenly feels much more awake.  He pushes himself up from the couch and starts to walk to the foyer. 

“This damn door… ah!  There we go.” 

The door creaks open and he hears you tiptoe inside in your heels (wearing heels and tiptoeing—are two actions that are mutually exclusive, especially when you’re plastered). 

“Remember, we have to be quiet.  My husband waits for me to get home, we don’t want to wake him up.  He’s very nice, you see, but he can’t know you’re here.” 

Apparently, you have gotten home safely—with an extra guest who just bit at your tit.  And you’re being louder than your guest, who you keep telling to be quiet. 

“My husband is gonna be soooo mad.  He’s gonna be so mad at me, but once he sees how cute you are, I think he’ll forgive me.  He’ll understand.  I had to.  I just had to!” 

He hears rustling as he gets closer to the foyer, you fumbling around in the dark. 

“Stay there, don’t move, okay?  Stay, yeah?  You know that, don’t you?  Mummy will teach you if not.  Just stay right there.  Lemme get these damn heels off…” 

There’s an odd sound of something quickly clicking on hardwood floor that makes his eyebrows furrow, and then you gasp—

“Wait, don’t run—“ 

Bang! 

You groan loudly. 

Price flicks on the lights.

You’re lying face down on the rug.  You have one heel on.  The second heel is twisted around your other foot—what you fell over.  Your little dress is flipped up over your ass and your arms are outstretched. 

“You okay there, love?” John asks, torn between amusement and concern. You just groan.  “Sounded like you fell pretty hard.” 

“I tripped,” you say into the rug, sounding very sad. 

“You hurt?” he asks.  “Anything broken?”

You shake your head and curl up a little.  “I’ll just sleep here.” 

He laughs softly.  “Come on, none of that.” 

“It’s so comfortable.  I’ll just—“ 

There’s that clicking sound again and he’s almost startled by the abruptness of your movement.  You push yourself up with one arm, stretch the other out and fucking snatch the quick-moving little brown blob that’s moving toward you.  You pull it to your chest and cradle it, shielding it from John’s view. 

He blinks. “What you got there, love?” he asks after a second. 

“Nothing,” you say innocently. 

“Right.”  He crosses his arms, looking you over.  “Who were you talking to just now?” 

“No one,” you say quickly.  “Myself.” 

“Right,” John says again slowly. “Show me what you have.” 

You look over your shoulder up at him through your lashes, vision blurry.  “No.  You’re gonna be mad.” 

“Just show me.” 

“Promise you won’t be mad.” 

He sighs.  “I won’t be mad.”  You give him a look.  He sighs again.  You’re wasted—he can tell by your eyes. They’re unfocused and heavy.  “Promise.  Now show me.” 

You look down at whatever you’re holding to your chest.  “Okay,” you whisper (to your tits?), “you need to be very well-behaved, okay?  No biting, please.  Be very nice for Daddy so he will like you, okay?  Can you do that?  Yes?  Okay.” 

You glance up at John again over your shoulder and then turn yourself around in a very clumsy movement.  Then, as if presenting whatever it is like you’re Mufasa from the Lion King, you lift it up in the air toward your husband. 

It’s a puppy. 

It’s quiet. 

The little dog wriggles in your hands, wagging his tail so hard his whole body shakes.  He barks up at John, high pitched.  A small pink tongue lolls out of his mouth. 

It’s still quiet. 

You lower the dog a little so you can look up at John.  “You said you wouldn’t be mad!” 

“I’m not mad,” John says, sounding mad. 

“You look mad.” 

“I’m not mad,” he says again.  “It’s just… dirty.” 

You gasp.  “He’s not dirty!” you exclaim, sounding offended on behalf of the dog.  You pull him to your chest.  “He’s just a little mangey, you see.  But that’s okay.  It can be fixed.  You know—they have medicine for that.  Or lotion, or whatever it is.  He’s very nice, John, I swear.  I know he’s a little… skrunkly but he’s very cute and—ow!  That’s my hair, no biting Mummy, please.” 

“You’re already calling yourself his Mummy?” he asks, bemused, eyebrow raised at you.  Yep.  You’re fucking wasted. 

“Yes, and you’re his Daddy.”  You hold the dog up again, this time facing him toward you.  “I think you’re very cute, puppy. You’ll grow on Daddy.  Just be very good for him, you can do that, can’t you?  Yes, you can.”  You whisper, as if John isn’t standing right there, “We’ll wear him down. Don’t worry.”

“I thought it was something else,” Price says. 

“What did you think it was?” you ask, not looking away from the dog.

“Where did you find it?” he asks instead of answering. 

This is much better than what his traitorous mind momentarily supplied.  You, cheating? As if.

How silly of him to even think that. For a moment, his stomach twists with the guilt of doubting you. He should have known better. 

Of course it’s this.  What else could it have been?

A puppy. 

A puppy! 

“Oh, hello, there.” 

You crouch down in your dress and heels and hold out your hand to the little puppy emerging from the bushes by the side of the road. 

“What are you doing here, all alone?  Come here, love, I won’t hurt you.  Come on, puppy, come to me.  Yeahhh, there we go.  Oh, look at you.  You’re so cute.  You’re all mangey, though.  Oh,” you say pitifully, “you little baby.” 

You’re drunk as fuck at 2AM on a Saturday in the summer, halfway through your walk home from the bar, squatting in the middle of a back road in England, about to cry while petting this puppy clumsily—but he doesn’t seem to mind.  He wags his tail and nips at your fingers. 

“Where’s your Mummy?  You shouldn’t be out here all alone.  No collar… oh, goodness, what should I do with you?  I don’t want to leave you.  I’m not sure what to do.” 

He barks at you, high pitched. 

You nod at him seriously.  “Oh, yes, good point.”  He barks again.  “Mhm.  Yes, yes.  I thought so, too.  Exactly right.” 

He runs in a circle around you. 

“What are you, a month?  You should be with your Mum, you shouldn’t be all alone.  Oh, you little baby, you must be so scared.”  (He’s wagging his tail.) 

“It’s so cold.”  (It’s summer.) 

“Maybe you can come home with me?”  (Your husband would be so mad.) 

“Yes,” you decide.  “You’ll come home with me.”  (Your husband is going to be so mad.) 

That’s how you end up stumbling home with a puppy in your arms, rambling to him about yourself and your life. 

“Well, puppy, my name is Mrs. Price.  I’m from around here.  I live in a nice three bedroom house with my husband, I think you’ll like it very much.  It’s very cute. He let me decorate it. He doesn’t understand feng shui, you see. You should see his office, puppy, it’s so bland. No taste for interior design.”

“Our house is only 10 more minutes away.  See that big tree there?  That means we only have 10 minutes left until we’re home.  I’m not great with street names, you see, so I go by landmarks.”  He barks.  “Yes, yes, you get it.” 

“Anyway.  So, I’m—stop wiggling please, Mummy’s going to drop you—I’m married to a very nice man named John.  I love him very much.  You’ll like him, too,” you tell him seriously, “he’s very likable.  I like lots of things about him, puppy.  Actually, I like everything about him.” 

“He says I can’t have a dog, though.  He says it’s for my own good—booooo. Boo! But maybe we can sneak you in.  What do you think, puppy?  Should we do that?  I think we should do that.  We’ll have to be very quiet, though.  Very quiet.” 

“John waits for me to get home safely—he’s so nice, he’s so kind to me, I love him sooooo much—but we have to make sure not to wake him up. This is one of them—uh, covert operations. He’s very well-versed in those. My husband is very talented, puppy, he’s a Captain. So we’ll have to be extra careful.”

And that’s how you end up trying to sneak into your own house and then trip over your shoe and fucking slam! your face on the rug. 

“Where did you find it?” John asks you as you sit on the floor after you presented the dog to him.

“On the way home from the bar, kind of my that big tree.” 

“By Notting Street?” 

You furrow your eyebrows.  “Notting Str—I dunno.  Maybe?  I just know the big tree.  The one with all the branches.” 

“‘The one with all the branches,’” he repeats, nodding slowly.  “Right.” 

“But he was there all alone so I took him home.  I couldn’t leave him, John, he’s so little.  And he’s very cute, look at his little ears?  And his little feet?  His toes are soooo small.  His little teeth are sharp, though—like a shark.  Fuckin’ hurt, he almost bit my tit off.” 

“Yeah, I heard.” 

“You heard?  Oh.  I was trying to be quiet.  I didn’t want to wake you up.” 

He smiles at you.  “I know.” 

You smile back. 

“Give me the dog.” 

You frown.  “No.” 

“The dog, please.” 

“No.”  You hold him tighter.  “You’ll take him from me.” 

“Well,” he says, “yes.” 

You sigh heavily.  “Be gentle.”  You hand him to John and he takes him in one hand and holds him out, frowning, as if it’s offended him. 

A puppy. 

“Can we keep him?” you ask hopefully. 

He glances at you and then back to the puppy and then back to you and then back to the puppy.  “No.” 

“Please?” 

“No.” 

“But…”  You trail off and he looks back down at you.  You’re starting to tear up. 

“Oh—love, don’t cry.” 

“He’s so little and soft and nice and he’s all mangey and he’s all alone and he’s just a little baby and…” 

“Okay, okay, darling, we can keep him.” 

(By that, he means you’ll talk about it tomorrow when you’re sober, and by ‘talk about it’, he means, ‘no.’) 

“Really?!” you gasp.  

The way your face fucking lights up makes John pause.  For a second, he almost feels like he lost his balance.

“Oh, John, really?  Oh, thank you so much!  Puppy, did you hear that?  Daddy said yes!  See, he’s very nice, just like I told you, remember?  He’s very nice and kind and he’s very handsome and I love him very much, and I—“ 

“The dog can’t understand you.” 

“You don’t know that,” you say defensively.

He looks down at you. “Right.”

You stare up at him, standing over you as you sit on the floor.  “How are you handsome even from this angle?”  You frown deeper.  “Stupid face,” you mutter. 

“What was that?” 

“Nothing.” 

“Let’s get you up.” 

“I’m so comfortable.” 

“Hand.”  He tucks the dog under his arm and extends his other hand toward you.  He crooks his long, thick fingers at you.  “Now.” 

You look between his hand and his face, and then slip your hand into his. 

“Good girl.”

He fucking yanks you up and, in one movement that’s somehow graceful, bends down and throws you over his shoulder. 

He, naturally, slaps your ass and you squeal.  “Hey!!” 

You kick your feet (still with only one heel on) and he laughs, resting his hand on your hip, heavy fingers digging into the plush of your butt, as he makes his way up the stairs with you on his shoulder and the dog in his hand. 

Gently, he drops you onto the bed and you fall back with an oof! and stare up at him. 

“Well,” Price drawls, “aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.” 

You grin.  “I missed you.” 

“I missed you, too.”  He takes off your shoe (singular), your dress, and your makeup as you hold the dog, curled up, on your chest. 

“You’re so good to me, John,” you say, your eyes closed.  “I’m so lucky.  I don’t know how I got so lucky.  And, you, puppy,” you mumble, petting him slowly, “you’re so lucky, too.  You’re about to have the best Daddy in the world.  He’s so good to us.” 

“‘Puppy’ is asleep,” John says.  “And,” he adds, scooping him up in one hand, “puppy is not sleeping in the bed.” 

You just groan, too tired and drunk to argue. 

He holds the dog out in the air again, turning him around and upside down to examine him.  He yips and wriggles in his hands, but John shushes him.  “Hush now.  Your Mummy is asleep.”  He shakes his head and sighs.  “What am I going to do with you?” 

He takes the dog to the bathroom and puts him down on the floor. His paws slip a little on the cold tile. John puts his hands on his hips, staring down at the dog.  “I can’t believe this.”

He reaches over to turn on the heated floor (which he got installed for you) and says to the dog, “You are so, so damn lucky I love your Mummy.” 

In the morning, despite John Price’s best efforts to say no to you, you end up convincing him to keep the dog. He’s a military Captain but the pleading of his wife is enough to make him crumble.

The happiness on your face when he finally says yes, makes him wonder why he ever said no in the first place.

note: thank you for reading! this is my first time posting in years–and in a totally new fandom. thank you for your patience and your support. let me know your thoughts! merry christmas!

posted 12.26.2024. revised 01.02.2025.

do not repost or modify any of my original words on any other platform.

to masterlist.

[muirneach]

just had a frightful deja vu worlds colliding moment

[fryingpan1234567]

aaaaaanyways. pride month at Camp Half Blood?

if you remember that one post from a while ago (general hc’s about chb), I did say I would do a fully pride post eventually

so without further ado, I present to all my lovely gay demigods:

PRIDE MONTH AT CHB🗣️🗣️

SO we’ve already discussed the decorations of some of the cabins, like Percy putting rainbow hippocampi scales all over the walls, the Demeter and Persephone cabins growing colorful flowers all over their roofs, the Hecate cabin and its Sentient Gay Door

I like to think the Iris cabin is just fully blasting rainbows all the time it looks like a Minecraft beacon

they play capture the flag every June with a pride flag that has the CHB logo on it

limited edition CHB pride merch😭

Mr. D defending trans campers by driving bigots slightly insane long enough to slap themselves and then go back to normal

Y’ALL KNOW ABOUT THE PRONOUN CORRECTION AIR HORNS? THAT’S THE ENTIRE APOLLO CABIN + LEO AND PERCY

Some ignorant prick about a transmasc camper: “Oh yeah she—“

Percy: *AIR HORN* “IT’S HE, BITCH”

Ignorant prick: “Okay Jesus I’m sorry”

A different ignorant prick: *makes some dumb joke about “always being able to tell�� and receives at least seven different air horns from all the Apollo campers in the vicinity*

Leo’s been following this one really irritating chick around all day because she can’t figure out one of his sibling’s genders and blasting her in the face every time she fucks up their pronouns😭😭😭

anyways yeah I like to imagine there’s a demigod pride festival somewhere, maybe in New York

or no there’s demigods everywhere I bet they have parade floats all the time in lots of cities and the Mist conceals the “fireworks” which are actually just godly light shows

Apollo rocks up to camp in a rainbow crop top and a pink drink from Starbucks just to sing Born This Way in the middle of the day and then dip again

Aphrodite blessing random queer couples with finding perfect date setups “conveniently” in their paths

all the gods physically restraining Hera when she tries to go fuck with Jason while he’s on a date w Leo

Percy and Annabeth in matching shirts that say ✨BEST BI✨ with the Best Buy price tag logo in the middle

Nico got glitterbombed on June 1st the second he stepped out of his cabin by the entire Apollo cabin (and Jason) and is still finding sparkles in his hair a week later

Aphrodite kids are walking dictionaries of all the rainbow terms, somehow, and they also all know which days in June are for which awareness or pride or whatever flag

campers who transitioned over the school year and coming back to camp a different gender and their godly parent re-claims them as their true self

Percy “I can’t believe I used to think I was straight” Jackson educating some of the younger campers on bisexuality and how, no, you don’t always know right away

Annabeth “I had a crush on Thalia and Luke at the same time and it was horrible” Chase always reassuring the nervous kids that there’s nothing wrong with being queer (and that she’ll fight any homophobic family members they may have)

actually they kind of all do that

Some little kid: “Well……. I don’t wanna tell my stepdad, he might kick me out”

Percy, remembering that his dad kept Medusa’s head after it got sent to Olympus: “Give me your address, I have an idea”

Piper will verbally eviscerate anybody she catches being even remotely homophobic. I mean she will swipe phones out of her siblings’ hands to tell off some ignorant grandmother

Jason does NOT get into physical altercations outside of sparring and literal war, but the closest he ever got was after hearing someone call Nico a slur (Percy and Leo had to physically drag him away from the other guy)

William Solace has white cowboy boots. I Will Start Sobbing On The Spot

Percy and Jason wore matching skirts for the pride festival and it was great— these 6-foot-plus brick shithouses of heroes who have single-handedly won wars aggressively waving tiny pride flags at each other and dancing to IT GIRL on the quad

Cecil and Lou Ellen made these magic rainbow smoke bombs, crawled up on the roof of the Hermes cabin, and slingshotted them into the masses Just Because™️

(Will’s hair was blue and pink for weeks)

RAINBOW WAR PAINT FOR CAPTURE THE FLAG.

Clarisse fucking kicked someone into the lake because they made fun of one of her siblings’ dyed hair

Connor thought it would be funny to leave a mini pan flag on top of Mr. D’s Diet Coke stash, mostly as a harmless joke, but the next day he noticed Mr. D had tucked it into his horrible Hawaiian shirt pocket like a handkerchief😭

watching Love, Simon in the amphitheater for movie night and half the campers had to excuse themselves early for sobbing too hard

Malcolm and Annabeth reread Red White and Royal Blue every summer. They say they’re Henry and June, Connor is Alex, and Percy is Nora

(this is confirmed when the two of them start a foot fight in the dining pavilion with a Chipotle burrito)

Leo IMing Jo and Emmie to wish them a happy pride (and tell Georgina and Waystation I said hello)

Piper and Leo getting into a HEATED debate about whether Velma Dinkley is a lesbian or not

”YOU CANNOT LOOK AT HER OVERSIZED-SWEATER-OVER-MY-PROM-DRESS ASS AND TELL ME YOU THINK SHE’S TOTALLY STRAIGHT—“

”WHAT SHE AND SHAGGY HAD WAS REAL, BEAUTY QUEEN! HOT DOG WATER AIN’T GOT NOTHIN ON NORVILLE ROGERS—“

”LEO! HER NAME IS MARCIE! AND THEY ARE EACH OTHER’S W A L L P A P E R S .”

Jason, sitting in the middle of them, now deaf in both ears: Lupa give me strength

GUYS PLEASE SEND ME SPECIFIC SHIPS OR CHARACTERS TO WRITE PRIDE HC’S FOR I WOULD LOVE TO🙏🙏🙏🙏

[honeylullaby]

“She’s the one, Lizzie.”

(Rivals) Rupert Campbell-Black & Lizzie Vereker (in regards to reader!)

Suggestion by a sweet anon 🫶🏽 / Rupert confides in his best friend, Lizzie Vereker, that he plans to propose to you…

18+ FANFIC / Super Soft Rupert 🥹🥹 And his gorgeous friendship with Lizzie!! 🫶🏽 As always, request what you wanna see in my ask box 💋

The dim winter night pierced the atmosphere surrounding Penscombe Court as violent rain lashed against the concrete. In the lounge, the grand fireplace roared and hissed, and Lizzie Vereker’s raucous laughter filled the air. “Oh darling, your laugh is just magnificent.” Rupert Campbell-Black chuckled after his best friend. “More wine?” He asked, already pouring a generous amount of crimson red wine into her glass. Leaning his head against her shoulder, Rupert sighed in contentment. Lizzie was one of the only people, besides you, that he felt he could truly be himself around. An extension of his own self.

“How are things going with you and what’s-her-name, anyway?” She asked, breathless from her maniacal giggling. You hadn’t yet met Lizzie, but he’d told you ever so much about her. “Ah, Lizzie. A gentleman never tells.” Rupert tutted in quiet response. “Do excuse me, one must use the men’s room.” He sighed, pulling himself from the sofa and exiting promptly. Delirious from intoxication and wobbling as she walked, Lizzie also rose up and decided to take a covert sneak around the lounge. There was nothing of any importance really. Delicate, marble ornaments — un-dusted and uncared for by Rupert — and mounds of paperwork, sworn into secrecy by Rupert’s other life. As she lifted one of his unnecessarily heavy camouflage jackets from his coat stand, painfully tempted to try it on and perform a fashion show, a small velvet-coated black box fell onto the stoned floor with a marvellous thud. “Oh goodness.” She fussed, scrambling onto the floor to retrieve it and place it back before Rupert returned.

“Lizzie, darling, what on Earth are you doing?” He questioned, leaning against the doorframe with a wicked grin painted over his face. “I’m so sorry!” She panicked, fingers trembling in embarrassment as she attempted in futile to return the box to his coat pocket. Rupert’s grin quickly diminished, his eyes widening in shock. He stomped over to the coat stand and snatched the box from her fingers, opening and promptly slamming it shut after he had confirmed the contents of the box was safe. “What is it?” She asked, leaning towards the coffee table and gulping down a mouthful of wine. “Sit.” He demanded, clicking his fingers towards the sofa. A small ‘oop’ left Lizzie’s mouth as she drunkenly toppled onto the sofa.

After a few moments of careful consideration, Rupert sat beside her, holding the small box in his unsteady hands. Pausing for breath, he lifted the lid of the box. Lizzie clapped her left hand across her mouth and gasped thunderously. “Rupert!” She gasped, spluttering on her wine and slamming the glass onto the coffee table, sloshes of scarlet immediately staining the darkened oak.

Inside the box sat the most exquisite, elegant ring — the most immense rock of diamond clung onto the daintiest silver band. The jewel glinted mesmerisingly against the flames of the fire. Lizzie’s orbs enlarged at the allure of such luxury. “Bloody hell, Rupert!” She panted and Rupert’s gaze followed her every move, running his tongue over his teeth in expectant joy. “I know. Rather something, isn’t it? Definitely brought a tear to my eye buying it. That’s £55,000 I’ll never get back.” He tutted jokingly. For the twentieth time tonight, Lizzie spluttered over her words again. “Fifty-five thousand pounds? Jesus, that’s more than I’ve ever earned in my entire lifetime.” She bantered back to him. “What’s the plan?” Lizzie asked again whilst biting her nails in anticipation.

Rupert stood now, closing the box gently and placing it back into his coat pocket. He paced around the room, gesturing his hands to and fro as he set the scene. “I’m thinking… picnic in the bluebell woods, when the weather’s brightened up a touch. All of her favourite foods, lay a blanket down and stay there until the evening. Watch the sunset and just surprise her with it.” That smug expression of self-pride invaded his face. It drove Lizzie up the wall. “Proud of yourself, aren’t you? You’re doing that weasel-y little smirk you do when you’re proud of yourself. I hate it.” She rolled her eyes, prompting a snigger from her companion. “Don’t be jealous, darling. It’s terribly uncouth.” Rupert jested back to her.

Tutting to herself, Lizzie grabbed his arm and dragged him back to the sofa. Once more, Rupert rested his head tenderly on her shoulder, and she raised her right hand to pat him affectionately. “She’s the one, Lizzie. I’m sure of it. For the first time in my life, I feel terrified. She looks at me like she sees right through me. Very sexy, I must say, but utterly terrifying.” He exhales. “I think that’s just love, darling.” Lizzie remarks.

“I think so.” Rupert mutters.

[marybeatriceofmodena]

What did Andrew Lloyd Webber do to make Patti Lupone upset? Sorry, saw your tags and i was curious

Oh.

Oh honey.

You sweet child.

Anyway, get ready for one of the most infamous showdowns in all musical theatre history, with the guy who writes the straightest musicals on Broadway (derogatory) and the one and only, the matriarch, the queen, two three-time Tony award winner Patti LuPone.

So, Andrew Lloyd Webber was basically kind of a boy genius in his prime - he met his future collaborator Tim Rice when they were 17 and 20 respectively, he wrote his first big hit, Jesus Christ Superstar, at 22, with Tim Rice writing the lyrics. And it was kind of a big deal at the time because the topic was controversial (you know, the Passion with rock music), but also because Broadway wasn't that far off from its golden age and let's just say the music and style were very different from, say, My Fair Lady. Or The Sound of Music. Or Funny Girl. It was basically the Rent/Hamilton of its time. (Yeah, Stephen Sondheim was around at that time, he worked on West Side Story which was revolutionary in of itself, but he's kind of an oddball in this case. You'll understand why later.)

Their real follow up (I'm not counting Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat for a variety of reasons) was a little musical called Evita, which you might know mainly because of a song called Don't Cry For Me Argentina. Or at least, your mom has probably heard it once at the very least. It's that song that's oversung from a musical while being out of context along with I Dreamed a Dream for Les Misérables. Or Memory from Cats.

Evita tells the story of Eva Peron, the wife of an Argentinian dictator, who basically screws her way to the top and ends up becoming the mistress of Juan Peron and the most beloved woman in her country through guile and deceit. Yes, I know the historical accuracy is very much debated but I know jackshit about Argentina's history except the bare basics so don't come at me. It was first produced in the West End in London, with Elaine Paige in the role, but because of Equity issues, she couldn't reprise her role for the Broadway production. So a Julliard graduate who was mostly starring in David Mamet plays got the part instead, and that was Patti LuPone.

Patti... did not have a good time during Evita, because the part is basically the kind of score where you can tell the composer is used to writing male parts, but most female singers have a two-octave range (yes, you got Julie Andrews who used to have a three-octave range, and many others, but they're exceptions), so she struggled a lot. That being said, if you listen to live recordings of her, you wouldn't be able to tell, and it got a lot easier later on. But she had this to say:

"Evita was the worst experience of my life. I was screaming my way through a part that could only have been written by a man who hates women. And I had no support from the producers, who wanted a star performance onstage but treated me as an unknown backstage. It was like Beirut, and I fought like a banshee."

This is from Patti's autobiography, which she wrote in 2007 - 8 years after shit with ALW went down. With all that said, she won a Tony Award for Evita, and she pretty much became a musical theatre household name from then on. She played Fantine in Les Misérables, Nancy in Oliver!, Reno Sweeney in Anything Goes. Meanwhile, ALW's next big hits were Cats (I'm not even kidding, Cats was a hit), and, you guessed it, The Phantom of the Opera, which he wrote in part to showcase his then wife Sarah Brightman's triple threat talents.

So, you need to understand before I continue that ALW, from my perspective, has always had a bit of an inferiority complex. He's basically associated to writing these commercially successful musicals that show a big spectacle but aren't ultimately substantial. I'm not sure I entirely agree with that, but I do think that if he didn't have Hal Prince, Maria Bjornson, Charles Hart and Gillian Lynne backing him up for Phantom, it would have probably been a Rocky Horror Picture Show knockoff people would have forgotten about pretty quickly. This is what I mean:

Yep, that was Phantom before any of the people I mentioned above (and Michael Crawford) were really involved.

Remember how I said Stephen Sondheim was an oddball? The thing with him is that his musicals weren't always commercially successful, but in general, in part thanks to being Leonard Bernstein's protégé, he was generally pretty well-respected and it was considered that his work was bringing musicals to a whole other level. Without Sondheim, you wouldn't have Jonathan Larson, and you wouldn't have Lin-Manuel Miranda. I am convinced ALW is resentful of that, and when you stop and think about it for more than 10 seconds, it's so obvious he REALLY wants to be Sondheim or at least command the same level of respect, but that's a story for another day.

So, after Phantom, ALW had other musicals that followed that either got a meh reception or outright flopped. Then there was Sunset Boulevard, which is based on the movie of the same name with Gloria Swanson. Despite all of her griefs for Evita, Patti LuPone agreed to partake in the musical as Norma Desmond, for its production in London, with the promise that she would transfer to Broadway once that production would open. And overall, after a string of flops, Sunset was actually doing pretty well.

HOWEVER. One day, while reading the gossip column of a newspaper, Patti found out that contrary to what she was promised, Glenn Close, who was meanwhile starring as Norma in the Los Angeles production, was to play Norma on Broadway. That was a complete surprise for her since no one on the production team had bothered to tell her it was happening - and keep in mind that for the news to come up the way it did in a gossip column, it probably would have necessitated a delay of a few weeks between the producers and the newspaper, which would have given them plenty of time to break the news to Patti. And Patti kind of needed the leg up because she was pretty bitter that a) Madonna was cast in the Evita adaptation instead of her; b) they actually lowered the key to fit Madonna's voice range, and she still had to expand her own to be able to sing the (lowered) score. And trust me, Patti is mad about it to this day.

So of course, she trashed her dressing room, the cast and crew weren't even mad about it because they were as shocked and angered as she was by the news. Patti sued Andrew Lloyd Webber for breach of contract, namely for 1 MILLION DOLLARS (yup, those are the real numbers), won, used the money she got from the lawsuit to get a swimming pool, which she called (and I SHIT YOU NOT) the Andrew Lloyd Webber Memorial Pool. Since then, Webber is dead to her, to the point rumor has it she had part of a building blocked during an event so she could get out of it without coming across Webber, because she hates him so flipping much she doesn't even want to be in the same building as the guy.

(There's also drama that happened with Faye Dunaway who was supposed to replace Glenn Close after she went from Los Angeles to Broadway, except they abruptly closed the show down after Close left, but that's a story for another day)

So with all the bad press, and with ALW forced to pay 1 million dollars for Patti's lawsuit, that led Sunset's productions to close earlier than expected. ALW has stayed around since, with... mitigated output, so to say. The lowest point for a lot of people is Love Never Dies, the sequel to Phantom, which some people love, and that's fine, but it didn't do well with either critics nor fans of the original show, which ALW is EXTREMELY BUTTHURT ABOUT. And like, there are so many stories I could tell about LND alone, but I will share my own crack theory about it, since it does relate to the ask.

Anyway, buckle up.

So. There have been jokes going around for years that the Phantom in LND is basically ALW's self-insert, where he displays to the world that he's totally not over Sarah Brightman leaving him (in part because making Phantom kinda ruined their marriage lmao), despite, you know, having married since. (Aaaaaakward.) So LND basically becomes this really uncomfortable therapy session where a man writes a self-insert musical about how his ex-wife made a big mistake of leaving a sensitive artistic soul such as himself. The characters from Phantom who appear in LND are all more or less unrecognizable as a result, and one who gets it worse (in my humble opinion) is Meg Giry, who was basically Christine's sweet and loyal ballerina friend who basically went into the Phantom's lair on her own to save her friend despite the danger. In LND, she's basically a bitter hag (because ALW hates women, guess Patti was right about that), who really likes the swim and even has a stripping vaudeville number about it, written in universe by the Phantom, no less.

For comparison, here's Don Juan Triumphant (the Phantom's opera in the original):

And here's Bathing Beauty (the vaudeville number):

Yeah, so... do you see why people hate LND already?

And that's not the only thing with Meg! She's also pining for the Phantom to pay attention to her and threatens to drown the Phantom and Christine's secret love child when he makes it clear that he's gonna love Christine for EVA AND EVA.

So, with everything we learned today about ALW, would someone like him view someone like Patti LuPone as some sort of crazy, bitter diva who's obsessed with him for whatever reason? Absolutely. Would he be petty enough to insert Patti LuPone into his self-insert musical, which gave us the version of Meg Giry we got in LND? Of course. Why does Meg love to swim so much and why does she drag Gustave out ostensibly for a swim? Is it a dig at Patti's Andrew Lloyd Webber Memorial Pool? Maybe.

I kind of hope we find out one day if that theory is true. And maybe start a kickstarter so Patti can add this painting from the 2004 movie in her collection.

Fun fact: during the process of casting for the 2004 movie adaptation of POTO, ALW allegedly suggested Patti LuPone to play Carlotta... only for Joel Schumacher to have to awkwardly remind him that they were not on speaking terms. The idea was therefore promptly dropped.

[perotovar]

baby, i'm-a want you — (ch 2) "session two"

gif by me

pairing: javier peña/joel miller rating: E (18+) mdni word count: 4.3k content: use of a plug, throat fucking, ass eating, lots of spit, gratuitous descriptions of cum, unprotected p in a, creampie, (safe) breathplay, background handjob, cock slapping, one (1) spank, joel's porn persona is a tad mean but it's nothing crazy, shy!joel, javi is a HUGE flirt, smoking, lmk if i missed anything! dividers: @saradika-graphics betas: @qveerthe0ry & @scenaaario (ily angels ♥)

series summary: javier peña has been doing this a long time. he's really good at his job. joel miller? not so much. he started doing this to get some extra cash to support his daughters. what happens when they're supposed to do a scene together? aka, the au where javier and joel are gay porn stars~

series masterlist | shoutout to this spanish dirty talk reference

for notifications, follow @oakslibrary ♥

“Fuck.”

Javier hadn’t had to prepare in a while. At least a few months. And the fact that he was doing this for Joel, of all men? He was harder than a fucking rock and he hadn’t even gotten the plug all the way in yet. Granted, he’d purposely chosen a smaller plug so he could still feel the stretch when Joel pushed that thick–

“Mierda,” he groaned, looking over his shoulder to see if he could get a better angle. The plug he chose was small, black, and a little thinner than he would normally go for. It’s been a while, so no matter what, there was a stretch but the lube certainly helped. When his hole finally sucked it in lewdly, he moaned, arching his back like a cat presenting himself to a mate. He grinned to himself and rested his head on his folded arms, ass in the open air of his apartment. 

He wished that his first major scene with Joel wasn’t a scene. He wanted to see if Joel was any different when the cameras weren’t on and he could just be himself. Every time he’s ever talked to Joel, he’d been quiet, with a heavy brow. Javier had been around the block once or twice and he could tell when someone didn’t like him. He’s not sure what he did to get on Joel’s bad side, but he hoped that tension added to the scene instead of making things awkward. And part of him liked the rift. It made Joel way more attractive to him, because Joel was probably the closest the site had to a bear, but not as big. Javier had always wanted to be fucked by one– 

Bzz. Bzz.

Cracking open an eye, Javier looked as his phone lit up next to him. He sighed and started rolling his hips side to side, slowly getting used to the feeling of being filled up again.

R u ready ?

“Who still texts like this, Jesus Christ,” he grumbled to himself. A slow trickle of sweat fell down the length of his back as he started typing a response.

Be there shortly, boss.

Javier rolled his eyes to himself. Max was always on his ass about being on time, but it never bothered him. They couldn’t start the shoot without him anyway. His cock throbbed between his legs, making him curl his fingers around his shaft. 

One quick wank couldn’t hurt right? 

Joel was panicking, to put it mildly. He showed up to the shoot way too fucking early and now he was rocking a semi in the hallway outside the room they’d be using. They, meaning him and Javier, because of course he hadn’t fully processed that that was still happening. He couldn’t get the image of Javier’s mouth around his cock, that mustache framing it so perfectly. Or his hole being stretched by Joel’s cock, or even–

“Hey, big guy.”

The words sounded like they were coming from down the hall and directly in his ear simultaneously. He slowly looked up to find Javier smirking down at him. Joel swallowed around a lump in his throat and cleared his throat awkwardly. His cheeks felt like they were on fire. Javier looked really fucking good – when didn’t he – with a healthy glow and slightly tousled hair. Had he freshly cleaned up his mustache this morning?

“Joel?” Javier chuckled, a soft smile coloring his features.

Joel cleared his throat again and stood awkwardly. “S-sorry, uh, hey,” he mumbled, looking down at his boots before keeping his eyes off of Javier’s, as he shoved his hands in his pockets. “Where ya been?” 

It was meant to be casual conversation, he swears, but he’d lowered his voice and it came out all gruff and accusatory and now he wants to hide in the broom closet. He knows this because the easy, relaxed look on Javier’s changed to one of confusion.

“Uh, preparing. Sorry, I know I was a little later than usual,” Javier exhaled. Guess he was right; Joel wasn’t the biggest fan of his. That’s fine, he was a professional and he could get his job done and go home. “See you in there, hombre.”

Joel blinked a couple times, looking at the empty area of the hallway where Javier was just standing. “W-wait,” he grunted, looking toward the room. Javier was digging into the pocket of the robe he was wearing and lighting up a cigarette, blowing the smoke away from the face of the assistant he was talking to.

“Fuckin’ idiot,” Joel grumbled to himself and stepped inside.

Javier wasn’t opposed to an audience per se, but he wasn’t expecting one today either. “What are you cabrones doing here?” He smirked, looking at the faces of his coworkers. Not all of them were here, but Dieter, Shane, Dave, Marcus, Din, Steve, Cobb, and Jack were. Everyone was in various positions of comfort, some sitting and some standing or leaning. Except Dieter, who was sitting on Din’s lap comfortably, resting his head on the bulkier man’s shoulder. 

“Wanted to see the show, of course,” Dieter grinned, winking at him. Joel stepped onto the set and saw all the men. He gave Dieter a look, and Dieter responded with a softer smile as if to say, You got this.

Javier rolled his eyes and smiled. “Alright, whatever, you perverts.”

“Alright, people, let’s get this show on the road! We’ve got a longer one ahead of us and I’ve got a date tonight.”

Everyone froze and looked at Max like he grew a third eye. 

Max frowned. “It’s not that rare– Y’know what, fuck you guys. Joel, Javi, get into position,” he grumbled, sitting in his director’s seat.

Javier looked at Joel and snorted, untying his robe. He threw it to their audience like they were a bunch of fans, and laughed when Marcus caught it. Javier winked at him, making the slightly younger man’s cheeks flush.

Joel was doing his damndest not to bust a fucking nut right now because obviously Javier was naked. That was his fucking job. That was his fucking job, too.

“Joel,” Dieter whispered. Joel looked at him, a slightly panicked look on his face. Dieter motioned for Joel to come over to him, so the older man did. “What’s goin’ on, huh?” Dieter asked quietly. Joel looked at Din wearily, who just smiled politely. “Oh, he’s not gonna say anything,” Dieter smiled, leaning over to give Din a quick kiss.

“‘M just,” Joel sighed. “Think he thinks I don’ like him.”

“Why would he think that?” Dieter pouted. When Joel didn’t answer right away, Dieter furrowed his brows at him. “Did you do that grumbly thing you always do?”

Joel mumbled under his breath and looked down at his boots.

“Miller! Get in frame,” Max barked.

Joel sighed and ruffled Dieter’s hair a little. “Showtime.”

Javier felt like his throat was on fire, tears were streaming down his cheeks, and he was having a hard time breathing. Joel’s cock felt so thick and hard inside his mouth and he was more turned on than he’d been in a long fucking time. 

“Yeah, shut ya up real good, huh?”

Javier moaned weakly, big brown eyes glassy as they looked up at Joel’s hard face. He choked every time the head of Joel’s cock hit the back of his throat but he couldn’t give a damn. This was probably the messiest head he’d ever given someone, slobber pouring out the sides of his mouth and down Joel’s shaft. 

Joel’s lines had instructed him to tell Javier to keep his hands to himself, so of course he obeyed. He dug the blunt nails of his fingers into his bare thighs so hard he was afraid that he’d break skin.

“Ain’t such a brat now that y’got a cock in your mouth, huh?” Joel sneered, tugging on Javier’s thick locks. Joel’s eyes were glued to Javier’s plump, swollen lips wrapped so tightly around his cock, that perfectly trimmed mustache framing them so beautifully. A full body shiver zipped down his spine when he saw the glossed over look in Javier’s eyes and tear tracks staining his cheeks. He shut his eyes in bliss and exhaled heavily as his hips moved of their own accord, his heavy balls slapping Javier’s chin lewdly.

Javier let out a low noise, his brows furrowing slightly. Joel looked down, worried he’d pushed too far, but saw that Javier was looking up at him with this fucking look in his eye. Even if Joel was technically in charge, at least in the script, he knew Javier had him hook, line, and sinker right now. And he thinks Javier knows that, too. 

Joel’s hips bucked at the twinkle in Javier’s eye, making Javier choke loudly. Slowly, Joel removed his cock from Javier’s swollen mouth. Loud, wet coughs left Javier’s lips, but he looked at Joel with a smirk on his face.

“Thought you were gonna fuck me, old man,” Javier rasped, sweat dripping down his neck.

“But you’d like that, wouldn’ya?” Joel grumbled. His cock throbbed heavily between thick, muscled thighs and Javier couldn’t take his eyes off it. The twitching made his own cock weep at the sight. “S’what I thought,” Joel hummed, harshly gripping Javier’s hair again. He curled thick fingers around the base of his cock and lewdly slapped the head against Javier’s tear-stricken face. 

Javier’s entire body shivered at the demeaning act and he bit his lip, looking at the hard lines in Joel’s face, and at the gray streaks in Joel’s hair. He was easily one of the most menacingly beautiful men he’d ever seen. He kissed and licked and sucked down the shaft of Joel’s cock until he sucked one of his heavy balls into his mouth. He moaned happily around the sensitive skin and looked back up at Joel through his lashes.

“Fuck me,” Joel groaned, breaking character slightly. He couldn’t fucking help it. Not when Javier was looking at him like that.

Javier made an approving sound and lewdly popped the ball out of his mouth, kissing up Joel’s soft, hairy stomach. “That’s my line,” he improvised with a grin, and sucked a dark mark into Joel’s hip.

Joel almost smiled, but at the last moment, remembered they were in fact not alone and had a script to follow. He quickly hardened his eyes and gripped Javier’s arms and manhandled him until Javier was laying over the arm of the couch, cock trapped between his body and the scratchy fabric.

“That what y’want, huh?” Joel grunted, gripping Javier’s ass in a bear paw. “Want me t’fuck this little ass until ya can’t walk no more?”

Javier moaned and arched his back, pushing his ass further into Joel’s hand and tried to grind against his cock. He nodded as much as he could with Joel pulling on his hair like he was, throat bared and panting hard. Joel pressed on Javier’s sweaty back to keep him down, before using both hands to slowly spread his cheeks. He groaned at the puckered little hole, carefully covered in lube from his earlier preparation. Pressing there with the pad of his thumb, he smirked when Javier moaned weakly below him.

“P-please, Joel,” Javier breathed heavily. Javi didn’t even recognize the sound of his own voice. He’d been built up too much and poked and prodded enough that he just needed something inside him already. “Please.”

“Hmm,” Joel hummed, pretending like he was thinking about it. He removed his hands from Javier to finally remove the t-shirt and jeans he was wearing. He could’ve sworn he heard someone from their little audience groan as his naked body was revealed, but he chose to ignore it, far too focused on the sight in front of him. “Don’t think so, sweetheart,” he grinned wickedly, his tone fake-sweet, and collected saliva in the back of his throat. He got down to his knees, thankful that the pillow there would be out of frame in the finished product. He spit directly onto Javi’s hole and gripped the small, plump cheeks in both hands. 

Javier gasped weakly, legs trembling under Joel’s ministrations. Joel was going to fucking kill him.

“Not yet, at least,” Joel mumbled, biting one of Javier’s cheeks before licking a thick stripe up from Javier’s taint to the top of his hole. A breathless huff left Javier’s lungs and his eyes rolled back at the feeling. “Y’mouth makes such pretty noises when ya ain’t runnin’ it,” was all the warning Javier had before Joel’s tongue pierced his hole and started fucking him in earnest.

Joel’s tongue was thick and wet and messy and he sucked loudly and slurped at a volume that should’ve been uncomfortable, but all Javier could do was moan and whimper, completely at Joel’s mercy. His eyebrows were downturned and his lips were parted in an obscene O, arms shaking as he held himself up on the couch. “Mm, fuck, J-Joel, I’m gonna fucking come, I’m–!” He was babbling and trembling and covered in a thin layer of sweat. He barely heard anything over the roaring in his ears.

“No, you’re not,” Joel grumbled between the lewd feast he was enjoying, landing a harsh smack! against one of Javier’s cheeks. “Don’t come until I say ya do.”

Javier groaned and bit his lip, his trapped cock weeping and throbbing between his legs. “Mierda,” he panted, hanging his head low between his shoulders. He tried grinding against the scratchy fabric of the couch for some kind of friction, but to no avail.

Joel grunted into Javier’s ass, convinced that he could stay here for hours if he was allowed. When he pulled his face away, his eyes latched onto the fluttering little hole in front of him and hummed in satisfaction. As he stood, his knees whined and creaked in protest and hopefully, if Max were nice to him for once, he’d edit the sounds out. 

Broad hands traveled up Javier’s heated skin, taking him all in as he panted heavily underneath the older man. He knew today would be good but nothing could’ve prepared him for this. Maybe he should keep his distance from Joel more often, if this was the end result.

Joel was ecstatic on the inside, the memories of their first scene together coming back to him. He’d almost forgotten just how pliant and cat-like Javier could get if pushed enough. The sounds he made were like music to Joel’s ears, and he wished he could keep them in a bottle reserved just for himself. 

He gripped Javier’s sides and manhandled him again until Javier was on his knees on one of the cushions and facing the back of the couch, hands planted on the back. Joel spread Javier’s cheeks again and hummed at the way the younger man clenched on instinct. He left Javier in that position for a second while he went over to an assistant off camera and grabbed some lube, making quick work of getting his cock thoroughly coated. He held Javier’s side, right where his ribs were, with one hand and gripped his cock with the other, grinding his shaft between Javier’s cheeks. 

Javier cried out loud, electricity shooting through his body and settling as heat at the base of his spine. 

Joel grinned, tapping the head of his cock against Javier’s hole before slowly, agonizingly so, pushed the thick head inside him. The air left Javier’s lungs as he froze, the pressure and the weight of being so thoroughly stretched overwhelming him. He grunted as Joel’s hips sat flush against his ass, breathing heavily as his arms trembled against the back of the couch. Joel stroked Javier’s flanks, letting him adjust for only a moment before he pulled out until just the head was left inside and slammed back inside.

“Fuck! Oh, fuck...” Javier moaned, his back arching.

“Aww, you’re alright,” Joel smirked. He hovered over Javier’s body, nearly covering him entirely with how much bulk there was. He curled an arm over Javier’s right shoulder and gripped onto the younger man’s left pec to press Javier’s back into his chest. He kissed along Javier’s shoulder and up his neck until he nibbled on Javi’s earlobe, moaning lowly as the younger man clenched around his shaft. “Y’gonna be good? Gonna let me fuck ya?”

“Sí, coño– Please, Joel,” Javier whined, resting his head on Joel’s shoulder and panting into the open air. “Por favor damelo.”

So Joel did. Before either of them knew it, Joel was fucking into Javier in earnest, his hips slapping against Javier’s ass obscenely. Javier was making the neediest little sounds, chanting Joel’s name like a prayer. Javier’s cock was hard as a rock and lewdly slapping against his skin with every one of Joel’s harsh thrusts.

Joel hid his face in Javier’s neck, panting hotly against the younger man’s already damp skin. With his right arm already wrapped around Javier’s torso, he gripped at Javier’s hip with his left hand, fingers digging into the (surprisingly) soft skin. Javier didn’t have a whole lot of fat on his body, but there was enough to ripple every time Joel jackhammered into him.

“F-fuck,” he gulped, lips parted and eyes half lidded. The pressure was building low in his abdomen. He knew he was close. “J-Joel, I’m–” His mouth was as dry as the desert. “I’m gonna come, I–”

Joel growled. Literally. He bit Javier’s cheek and growled. “Not yet. Jus’ a li’l longer,” he panted. He moved his hand from Javier’s pec to his throat, and carefully, expertly, squeezed the sides. They’d talked about doing this with Max and both had consented to it. They knew how to do it right.

Slowly, as Javier’s air supply was marginally cut off, a wide smile grew on his face. His eyes shut and he was smiling, biting his lip. He felt so fucking good. He wanted to do this again and this time wasn’t even over yet.

Joel must have noticed because he chuckled next to Javier’s ear, hips never letting up once. “Yeah? Feel good, sweetheart?”

Javier nodded as much as he could, nails digging into the shitty couch and pulling hard.

“Good boy,” Joel rumbled, slowing down his hips, but not letting up on how hard he was thrusting. Javier’s breath hitched with every one of Joel’s slow, measured thrusts. Joel’s hand slid from Javier’s hip down to curl around the younger man’s cock. It was like someone had poured ice cold water over Javier’s head, because the pressure was just what he’d needed.

“S-sí, sí, please, p-please,” Javier gasped, a tear falling from his eye.

“Fuck, look at ya,” Joel marveled, slowly stroking Javier’s cock teasingly. “Pretty as a god damn picture, sweetheart.”

Javier opened his eyes as wide as he could and tried looking at Joel for the first time since he was on his knees. When their eyes locked, Javier could have sworn that there was a different man behind Joel’s baby browns. Perhaps that was the real Joel, and not whoever was on camera. Not whoever had been avoiding him for the better part of two years. No, it couldn’t be. Could it?

“Want ya t’come for me,” Joel breathed hotly against his face. Javier shivered all over and nodded as much as he could with Joel’s bear paw of a hand around his throat. “Can ya do that, sweetheart? Come for me.”

Javier grunted as Joel picked up the pace of his hips again, but this time with his other hand tightly gripped around his shaft. Joel teased the head with his thumb just as he slammed directly into Javier’s prostate over and over.

Javier cried weakly, one more tear falling from his eye, and came hard. Thick, creamy spurts of cum painted the set’s couch as Javier trembled with his release.

Joel held him close, their sweaty bodies sticking together as Joel thrust one, two, three more times and followed Javier over the edge. He came with a low roar buried into Javier’s neck and cock twitching violently in Javier’s ass.

The set was dead silent save for Joel and Javier’s heavy breathing. Max kept the camera rolling, stunned into silence for once. 

Javier smiled to himself, eyes shut in bliss, and head resting on Joel’s shoulder. He clenched around Joel’s sensitive cock in little pulses. “Fuck me,” he croaked, voice wrecked.

Joel grunted at the overstimulation and gently held Javier’s hips as he slowly pulled out. Javier leaned forward against the back of the couch and pushed his ass out so the camera (and their audience) could see the thick cum trailing down his thighs. Joel’s hands rubbed Javier’s skin appreciatively at the sight, his cock giving one last valiant twitch.

“C-cut,” Max’s voice cracked, making him clear his throat. “Cut.”

In the corner, Dieter trembled and moaned weakly into Din’s neck as he came, Din’s thick fingers curled around his cock. 

Javier turned his head back to look at Joel with a satisfied smile on his face. “Mind gettin’ me a towel, guapo?”

Joel’s cheeks flushed, completely out of character again. “‘Course,” he mumbled, slowly standing to ask one of the assistants for a towel.

“Jesus Christ, boys,” Max chuckled.

Javier hummed in agreement.

“That was… That was somethin’ else, Jav,'' Steve said, impressed.

They were both outside, having their usual post-shoot cigarette together. No matter if they’d done a scene together or separately, they always kept up the tradition. This time, though, Javier thought he’d need several cigarettes. And a bath.

“Thank you,” Javier grinned, feeling lighter and more satisfied than he had in weeks. He could swear that the crick in his neck he’d woken up with was completely gone. Maybe there was some truth to Silva’s back pain disappearing after certain sessions.

“S’pose ya don’t gotta tell me, since I saw it myself, but was it like you thought it’d be?” Steve chuckled.

Javier snorted in response, taking a long drag off his cigarette. “And then some.”

Din smiled gently down at Dieter, giving him a slow, soft kiss. “I’ll see you tonight?” 

Dieter smiled wide and nodded giddily, getting on his tiptoes to wrap his arms around Din’s neck one more time to give him another kiss. Joel could swear he saw hearts in his eyes. 

Once Dieter came back over to Joel, he had a sheepish expression on his face. “Sorry, just had to say goodbye.”

Joel smiled softly. “Don’ worry yourself over it. Y’all are cute together.”

“You think?” Dieter beamed. “We had a scene the other day and we just haven’t stopped texting, and– Oh my god, this isn’t about me right now, I’m sorry.”

Joel chuckled and followed Dieter into the hallway so the cleaning crew could get to work. Dieter scratched at his beard as he looked at Joel: he seemed lighter, with a healthy glow radiating off of him.

“Well?”

Joel cleared his throat and dug his hands into his pockets, shrugging a little. “What?”

“Don’t ‘what’ me, old man! That was fucking hot! I came so hard!”

Joel laughed, rolling his eyes at his friend. “Thank you.”

“So? You gonna ask him out? Or at least apologize for earlier?”

“Yeah, I will. And uh… Yeah, I plan to,” Joel sighed, awkwardly scratching the back of his neck. “Don’t exactly know how I’m gonna do that, though…”

“Well, you better think of something quick!” Dieter whispered, pointing towards the end of the hall as Javier rounded the corner with Steve.

“Shit,” Joel whispered to himself. Dieter gave him a wink and thumbs up before heading in the opposite direction. 

Javier had his regular clothes on again, and Joel couldn’t take his eyes off him, enamored with how well they fit him. He may have just been inside the man, but he couldn’t help himself. 

“Hey, Joel,” Javier smiled awkwardly. He still wasn’t sure where they stood outside of working together, so he tried to keep it as casual as possible.

“H-hey, Javier,” Joel said hoarsely. He cleared his throat again.

“Y’know, you’re the only one that doesn’t call me Javi,” he said softly.

“Oh,” Joel furrowed his brow. “‘M sorry. My mama always taught me an’ my baby brother it was more polite that way.”

“You have a baby brother?” Javier smiled.

“Uh…” Joel gulped. “Y-yeah. Tommy.”

Javier hummed in response, an amused look crossing his features. He’s slowly figuring Joel out, he thinks. “He just as handsome as you? Bet he is,” he flirted.

The tips of Joel’s ears went pink and he laughed around an awkward cough. “Nah. Don’ cut his hair enough to be respectable.”

“Mm, more to pull then,” Javier smirked.

Joel made a face, not wanting to think of his brother like that. “L-listen, uh. ’m sorry ‘bout earlier. Wasn’t right talkin’ to ya like that,” he mumbled, unable to look Javier in the eye just yet.

Every bit of tension Javier felt left his body in an instant. “Thank you. I appreciate that, Joel.”

Joel nodded, a shy smile on his face. “‘S good,” he said awkwardly.

They were quiet for a few moments before Javier pulled out his pack of cigarettes, sticking one between his lips. “Well, you built up quite the appetite in me, so I’m gonna go–”

“Do you wanna go out sometime?” Joel blurted out. “N-now, maybe?”

Javier blinked a few times as a smile grew on his lips. “You’re asking me out? Gotta be honest, I thought you hated me, Joel.”

Joel snapped his eyes up at that, confusion all over his face. “What? No! I–” He sighed. “‘M no good at this,” he grumbled to himself. “’m sorry. Again.”

Javier chuckled and took the cigarette out of his mouth. “‘s alright. I’d love to.”

“Yeah?” Joel smiled, cheeks flushed and eyes wide. 

“Yeah, guapo. You already got dessert, but dinner sounds great.”

[wynnyfryd]

Trailer park Steve AU part 17

part 1 | part 16 | ao3

Heat rolls through Steve’s gut; low and quick, a vicious flare, and then he coughs and looks away. “Jesus, man," he splutters, "learn to take a joke.”

“Mmm-hm.” Eddie's smug smirk spreads wide, grows teeth; gotcha bitch, and Steve’s about to tell him to fuck off when he claps his hands to his thighs and abruptly stands up. Does a big stretch, swinging his arms out side to side, reaching overhead until his back makes a noise like a twisted sheet of bubble wrap.

“Holy shit!” Steve frowns. “You’re gonna break your spine.”

Eddie gives him a flippant smile. “That's the idea. Anyway...” He pretzels himself up again, groaning as his neck and shoulders pop. “Seeing as we’re trapped in here for the foreseeable future, you wanna do what the little psychos asked? Play twenty questions or have a heart-to-heart or whatever?”

“Seriously? And just give them what they want?”

Eddie shrugs. “Seems like the fastest way out of here, so yeah.”

“We don’t negotiate with terrorists.”

“Please. You negotiate with them all the time." He folds forward at the hips, looking at Steve upside down between his legs, and twists a curl around his pinky. "Those kids have you wrapped around their grubby little fingers."

"They do not!"

"They totally do. Besides," he swings back upright, "I’ll negotiate with anyone if it gets me back home to my girl.”

"Oh." Steve stumbles at that. "Didn't know you had a girlfriend.”

Eddie laughs big and bright, shaking his hair all over the place. “Yeah, Harrington, I have a girlfriend. You're funny. Y'know, Henderson could have saved us a lot of time here if he'd just told me you were fun—”

“Okay, then who’s your girl?” Steve interrupts with a huff, because Eddie’s just hopping around in circles while he laughs like Steve's a fucking moron for making a totally reasonable assumption, and he doesn't understand what's so goddamn funny about it.

“My girl, Harrington,” he all but coos when he collects himself, “is my guitar.” He bites his lip and mimes playing a riff; Steve doesn’t know shit about guitar, but he knows that Eddie’s fingers are quick, nimble and impressive as they jitter through the air. “We’ve got a show this weekend. Like, a real one this time, not just playing to three drunks at the Hideout.”

“Cool,” Steve says, looking away from his rings. “Congrats, man. You any good?”

“You could say that.” Eddie’s mouth goes smug and pleased, genuine pride shining in his big eyes when he rocks back on his heels. “The frat that booked us seems to think so, anyway.”

“Oh, shit!" Now Steve's impressed, because it's the weekend before Halloween, and that means, "College costume party.”

“Of course you’d be excited about that.”

“Hey, great place to get laid,” Steve shrugs.

Eddie chokes on his own spit. “You’re kind of a slut, you know that?”

“Rude,” Steve says mildly. He's not a slut; he's an opportunist.

The ground's starting to hurt his ass, so he stands up to join Eddie's impromptu yoga session. Eddie leans a hip against the workbench, folding his arms over his chest and giving Steve room to move.

His eyes flit to his hemline when it rides up on a stretch. "Would you..." he clears his throat. "Would you want to come?"

"Huh?" Steve twists around.

"To the show," Eddie adds, ducking his head to hide his face behind his hair. "You'd have to cram into the back with Frankie and the drum kit, but uh..."

Steve lets himself picture it for a moment, some alternate dimension where he's allowed to say yes: the winding highway to Indy, a van full of dudes cracking jokes and fighting over who gets to pick the music next, losing himself in the thrum of a crowd while he drinks and dances and watches Eddie on stage.

His throat feels tight, suddenly. He reaches for the flask and takes another sip of whiskey. "Don't all your bandmates hate me?"

"I mean... not any more than I do." Eddie's answer is quiet, his eyes swimming with candlelight; Steve doesn't know when they moved closer, when a hush settled over the room, but it feels like...

"Yeah?" he hedges, his voice barely above a whisper. Then he steps out onto the ledge; icy cliffside, slippery holds. The mountains are so much scarier than the deep sea. "And how... How much is that?"

His pulse kicks in his chest. Echoes down to his wrist, a nervous current beneath his skin. Eddie's eyes are so soft. Big and brown and dark. Dark like the deep woods; endless; sort of mesmerizing.

"Steve, I—"

The cellar doors shriek on their hinges.

—

part 18

part of the tag list below the cut comment if you want to be added (comment twice if you wanna be my tag manager lol i’m dyin)

@heartsong18 @hellion-child @hiimlevi @hotluncheddie @jackiemonroe5512 @jaytriesstuff @littlebluejane @lololol-1234 @marklee-blackmore @melonmochi @messrs-weasley @mrsjellymunson @mugloversonly @nburkhardt @nerdyglassescheeseychick @noodle-shenaniganery @notsopersonalcharlie @novelnovella @nuggies4life @pending-dope-username @perseus-notjackson @ppunkpuppyy @questionablequeeries @remosdeerica @runninriot @sadcanadianwinter @shamelesspatrolshepherdcowboy @silver-snaffles @singmeyoursimpsong @slowandsteddie @slutforcoffein @solalasoforth @spookednsaucy @steddieas-shegoes @steddie-island @stevesbipanic @steves-strapcollection @taleah-bonnick @teatimeeverybody @th30ra3k3n @thealwithnoname @thespaceantwhowrites @thestarslittleking @thesuninyaface @trensu @violetsteve @wormdebut @yourmom-isgay @zoeweee @zombiecreatures

[contentloadinggg]

Off The Path - Hozier Drabble

Author’s Nota: Ughhh look at my hottie husband go, the hands, THE HANDS LOOK AT THEM. Anyways, fun little drabble for a fun little idea. Honestly, sometimes I think of things and wonder if I’m actually sane or not.

Summary: You ride Andrew in da woods, not far off the path hehehe. (God I really just wrote that.) (Gender-neutral! Reader)(~300 words)

Warnings: Smut, of course. Andrew’s ashamed with how turned on he is, uhh almost Exhibitionism? But they don’t actually get caught. Public Sex. (Help me, I’m getting ideas for a voyeur fic because he’d defo be into that.)

This is a work of fiction and is not a reflection of who Hozier is.

Inspired by:

Fic under the cut💚 18+ only, you’ve been warned.

“She turns my back to the earth and shows me that’s where I’m meant to be

I hear a chirp from the birds as if they heard somebody coming.”

“You really have the worst ideas- Jesus Christ!”

Andrew hissed, his hands gripping tightly at your hips. Like he wasn’t sure if he wanted to push you away or bring you closer. 

“Shhh, you’ve got to be quiet.”

You replied, pressing a finger to his lips. Andrew glared up at you. Something that quickly faded as your hips rocked on top of him. Forcing the man beneath you to take a sharp breath and bite his lip. Sharp white teeth piercing the soft flesh. His eyes shifted up to the sky in an attempt to focus on anything, quite literally anything else then the pleasure coursing right into his bones. The great branches of trees blocked out the sun casting light down from above. The leaves tremble in the breeze like his fingers that grasp at your legs.

Andrew wishes they’d gone further off the path while he pretends like the risk of someone catching them doesn’t make his nerves tingle with excitement. Heightening his adrenaline and arousal, causing his body to be all the more sensitive and aware.

You clench around his cock. Forcing Andrew’s attention back onto you.

“For fuck’s s-”

He’s cut off by your hand clasping over his mouth. The rocking of your hips becomes achingly more gentle in an attempt to quiet your movements. 

Voices drift through the trees. Andrew holds his breath. Praying to all and every God they don’t get caught. There’s no way to salvage this prone position if they do. At the same time his cock twitches inside your warm walls. You smile down at him like you know exactly what he’s thinking.

Andrew glares hotly. As hot as he is turned on.

You begin to ride him more vigorously once more.

More voices drift through the tree causing you to stop again. The shift in speeds made Andrew’s cock throb in need. He’s in for one long fucking ride.

And he’s praying to all and every God to thank them. 

This was a good time. almost as good as Andrew's having lol.

-Thad💚

[kissitbttr]

how would fiancé!miguel react to finding out muñeca’s friends organised her to go to a magic mike concert for her bachelorette party?👀

ohhh goddd he’d actually cry so hard tbh i’m not even going to lie😭😭

“a magic mi—WHAT?!”

“it’s literally a tradition! for every bride to have one miguel!”

“fuck the tradition! are you fucking crazy?! IT’S A NO!” miguel refuses, shaking his head at the sheer horror of naked men giving lap dances to his fiancé, “the only man she’ll see dancing naked is me!”

“you don’t have a say in this anyway! it’s her bachelorette”

“gloria i am fucking dying right now! you can’t just order male hookers for my fiancée!”

“you make it sound like she’s having a sex party with other men”

“gloria why the fuck would you say that?! i am really going to cry right now!”

kiana shoots a warning glance at gloria but she only merely shrugs, not exactly bothered by what she had said.

“it’s not like she’d cheat on you! she would never!” kiana tries to console panic miguel, and she looks over at gloria for help but she only shrugs, “it’s a one time thing, o’hara”

“you don’t understand, kiana! she loves channing tatum! and she loves him on magic mike! and she told me one time how men in gold tights are hot and i’m— oh my god i am having a panic attack, why would you do this to me?!” he shrieks, pacing back and forth

“jesus, calm down miguel! they’re just strippers! it’s not like they would ask her to rub oil all over their rock hard abs and fuck her after the show at the same time!”

“what!?” “gloria!”

“oh my god are you insane?!? WHY WOULD YOU SAY THAT TO ME?!😭😭”

[sealinredshoes]

let's talk about names in The Folk of The Air

I realised today that I physically CAN'T shut up about how great of an author Holly Black is when it came to reference to folklore. I mean she basically build her carrier over her fairies knowledge. So anyway, here's some info about her character names because names are so important in the Fae world.

Let's start with Jude. The lies queen, the oath traitor, the one who

gets to turn a geis at her advantage, the mind trickster, the betrayer. According to multiple etymology work, "Jude" is a alterative form for Judah and therefore Judas, the bretrayer of Jesus. In old hebrew, Jude also mean " to praise". I mean, we are all accusating Cardan of being a simp, but maybe this little fairy-boy was just doing what the name was saying.

Speaking of our silly fae king, Cardan name was formed around the word "cairn", in old english. What is a cairn ? Nothing less that some rock pile that, in some stories, where supposed to gard the sleep of old fae king that where once trapped underground because they were too dangerous (or, dare I say, wicked ?). But it doesn't stop here, since "cardan" manage to became a surname for a stubborn person, and guess where the name "Cardan" first appeared ? Cheshire (wanna guess who he relate the most to when he read Alice in Wonderland ?)

Nicasia turn. One of the oldest and most powerful ocean spirit in the celtic folklore is called Old Nick, and I think there is some reference here made by Holly Black.

Taryn. Oh dear, do I have a lot to say about Taryn name. On the matter, she is probably the most gifted. Taryn name came from a variant of Thualta, the name of the godlike people that once rulled of Ireland before leaving to the undying island. Taryn represent the embodiment of the travel from mortal land to Elfame itself. But she also wear the same name as Tara, an old Irish fairy queen, wich name blend the meaning of "hills" and "star", showing the great extent of her power. Taryn is also a name given to the river that tend to overflow often. So, just like for her name, there is much more in Taryn that what we see at first.

Vivi complete name is Vivian and I think it speak for itself. Vivian is one of the many names of the Lady of the Lake, gardian of Excalibur. Her name in particular make me feel a little bittersweat. It bear the love of her step-dad for weapon, but also, it's maybe the first name her parent assimilated to fairies, and they may have chosen it quickly since they were still recovering with all the fae-related trauma. On the other hand, Vivian is also know to have managed to trap Merlin into a rock, so they were maybe wishing for her to be capable of overpowering any fae that could have wanted bother her.

Oak means oak (breathtaking I know), and oak trees are often associated with royalty in Celtic traditions. In France, it's said the king saint Louis was use to take court under a oak trees, and oak seed are often use to keep Fae treasures safe in fairytales

Hazel share some trees linked symbolism. It's known to be a symbols of righteousness and loyalty ( quite fitting for a knight if you want my opinion)

Jack sometimes means " to take the place", and, I mean, he is a changeling after all, but jack is also a name often give' to scarecrow, a parody of human beings

Benjamin's name means "second born" . Wtf, are you thinking if you have read the Darkest Part of the Forest. Isn't Benjamin the oldest sibling? Well yes, but he is the one the fairies like the most. The one who get the gift, the one who gets the story, the one deserving of a fairytale. And in all fairytales, it's the youngest son who is the hero, and who live the story. It's the benjamin brother who gets the magical gifts from the fairy lover who's head over heels for him. Ben might be the first born but by fairytale's logic, he is a Benjamin.

I haven't read the Oak saga yet so you'll have to tell me if it fits, but Suren's seem to means "the heroic one, the strong one"in Armenian, while her second name Wren, is the one of a small bird symbolising determination, enthusiasm and happiness

Some bonus for the Spiderwick Chronicles saga, because YES, I still believe they are part of this universe even if I know they legally can't.

Mallory etymology is from the french "malheureuse", wich means "unhappy", "unlucky", but something about the name of the others characters make me think it was choosen as a reference to Thomas Mallory, academically known as the first person to mention king Arthur in a written document (actually is more complicated but the meaning is still here)

Helen can be a reference as Helen of Troy, a female character who is often perceived as irritating and uninteresting until you start to rethink the story from her point of you, just like Jared have to learn that his mom is not trying to work against him, she is just a single mom trying her best.

I believe there must be some cultural references with Simon names, but I did not find it. All I've got is that his name means"to hear and to listen" such is kinda fitting,not gonna lie, my boy is trying to hold this family together by will alone so he have to play mediator all the time. (And of course It was saint Peter first name, like @amr102 say, everybody in this family is a reference)

I think Arthur Spiderwick name is a obvious reference to king Arthur since they bear (ehee, bear,king Arthur, you have it ?) the same narrative purpose of being the focus point of action without doing anything. (Update, @amr102 also reminded me that Tony Diterlizzi, the other author of the chronicles was massively influenced by Arthur Rackam style for his illustration, so, yeah, there is a reference for both of the authors)

For Lucinda, her name etymology come from lux, the light. But in a lot of gaelic tales, such as Cuchlein and Olwein, characters associated with light tends to turn crazy and / or see what the rest of the world cannot

And finally, Jared, my favourite one yet since the theory that he was named after Jareth the Goblin King from Labyrinth 1986 will never leave my brain.

[queenie-ofthe-void]

The Babysitter Chronicles - Henderson

Steve POV 5+1 (immediately follows s2) || wc: 1.8k || full fic ao3

Henderson || Mayfield pt 1 / Mayfield pt 2 || Sinclair || Wheeler || Byers || +1 Hopper

~~~

This has been the worst week of Steve’s life.

Not only does Nancy think he’s bullshit, he found out she never actually loved him, she cheated on him, and she partially blames him for Barb’s death.

He was almost eaten alive by alternate dimension monster demodogs, almost died at the hands of Billy fucking Hargrove, almost died in the backseat of Billy’s car, and then almost died again in the tunnels. 

He’s pretty sure he has a serious concussion and a broken nose. The stitches on his forehead are starting to itch. He’s had a migraine every day since, and there’s ringing in his ears.

Steve honestly thought he could put all of this Upside-Down shit behind him. Pack it away in a tiny box and move on. Yet he was dragged into it once again, forced to protect kids he barely knows from both monsters and humans. 

He deserves to get paid for this shit, to be honest. 

He’s got no friends to sit with at lunch, no girlfriend to love him, and no parents at home to take care of him.

After spending the week at home alone, wallowing and recovering, he found himself thinking of the kids. It was the first time he felt anything other than misery and physical pain. But they were big, complicated emotions that he’s still untangling. He’s been able to pick out fear and anxiety, annoyance, exasperation, and– surprisingly– fondness. When he thinks of the kids, he’s hit with a surge of fierce protectiveness and devotion.

He’s got nothing to show for his life and no one to spend it with. Those kids, though, needed him in a way he’s never felt before. It was life or death, and they trusted him to keep them safe. Now that it’s over, even If he isn’t necessarily wanted, maybe he could at least continue being useful.

Which is how he finds himself pulling up to the same curb as he did a week ago. At least this time he’s not here about the Upside-Down; although, knowing Dustin, he wouldn’t be surprised.

“Steve!” Dustin’s running out the front door and down the driveway in just a t-shirt and sweatpants despite the chilly November morning. He plows into his chest at full speed and almost sends them both toppling over. “Steve, holy shit you’re here! Oh shit your face.”

“Hey man, language ok?” Jesus, the mouth on this kid. “Relax twerp, ease up on the hug, you're killing my ribs.”

Dustin immediately drops his arms and backs away, looking cowed. Steve’s going to have to work on his approach, apparently the kid’s sensitive. Or maybe Steve’s still a bit of a bully, another part of himself that needs to be fixed.

“It’s ok, Dustin, don’t worry about it. Just a little sore still.”

He perks back up again, bouncing up and down on his heels. The little gremlin’s toothless smile is so damn cute Steve wants to give him a noogie. 

“Ok then,” Dustin replies, “so why are you here?”

“Uhhh, actually I’m here to talk to your mom.” Feeling suddenly awkward, Steve runs a nervous hand through his hair. He hisses as it pulls on his stitches.

“My mom?” he asks, incredulously. “Why? What’s going on?”

Steve supposes he should’ve thought of this. It makes more sense to talk with Dustin before actually asking his mom for permission, but he hadn’t practiced this part. Now here he is, facing down an over-dramatic middle schooler and he’s actually nervous about it.

“Yeah, I kind of noticed you’re an only child, and you don’t really have a dad around.”

Dustin’s face falls, morphing into a scowl. Shit, Steve’s barely said one word and he’s already messing this up.

“Not all of us have rich parents who buy us whatever they want,” the kid huffs, crossing his arms and kicking non-existent rocks.

“No wait, ok look I’m sorry Dustin, that’s not what I meant. I’m not really great at talking about stuff like this. The important stuff anyways. Let me try again. Please?”

The kid’s still scowling, but his body relaxes a bit and he nods.

“Ok I’ll start over,” Steve continues. “Even though we were dealing with all of the Upside-Down shit and it was literally the worst week of my entire life, I enjoyed having you around. I’d sleep better at night if I knew you twerps are safe and I know you don’t really have anyone around other than your mom and the other gremlins–”

“The Party.”

Steve stares at him, mouth hanging open as he’s cut off mid-sentence. He’s in the middle of pouring his heart out to this mouthy ten year old and he’s got the audacity to interrupt him.

“The what now?”

“The Party, Steve.” The little shit’s tone is overflowing with condescension. “The group. We’re called the Party. You know, like in DnD?”

“What the hell is a dandy?”

“You, kind of,” Dustin mutters under his breath. Steve doesn’t really know what that means and coming from this kid he probably doesn’t want to. “D and D stands for Dungeons and Dragons, Steve. It’s a role playing game.”

“Whoa, alright I think you’re a little too young to be playing role playing games.”

“I’ve literally been playing for three years.”

“You’ve been roleplaying since you were seven?”

“I’m thirteen Steve!” He’s pretty sure Dustin’s screeching can be heard from the other side of town. “What are we even talking about right now? Why are you here, at my home, looking for my mom?”

“I want to be your goddamned babysitter!” Steve screams back. He takes a deep breath– in and out. This kid’s going to be the death of him, he just knows it.

He looks down to find Dustin’s eyes wide and mouth formed in a perfect oval. The kid’s shocked, either from what Steve said or that he literally shouted it in his face. Now it’s Steve’s turn to kick rocks. He shuffles back and forth, shoving his hands in his pockets to keep them from tugging his hair again.

“You guys almost died, man,” Steve says softly, avoiding eye contact. It makes this part easier. “You almost died, and if I hadn’t been there, I have no idea what would’ve happened. Maybe you all would’ve been fine, I don’t know. But it was my job to keep you safe, and you don’t have anyone else around except your mom and the grem– I mean the Party– to look out for you. I had to quit basketball thanks to Billy, and Nancy broke up with me. My parents are literally never home, so I’ve got a lot of free time on my hands. Figure I could use some of that time keeping you out of trouble.”

Dustin’s face hasn’t changed, still devoid of any emotion other than shock. God damnit, Steve really messed this up. He looks around and rubs the back of his neck. His skin’s prickling with nerves as he starts to sweat and he takes a step backwards towards the safety of his car. 

This was a stupid idea. Why would any of these kids want anything to do with him? He’s nothing like them: smart, nerdy, can save the world without taking a beating. Steve thought he could be useful, worthwhile to someone– to Dustin. He should know better by now.

“Look, I’m sorry. I’m just going to go,” Steve says. But as he turns to leave, Dustin slams into him once more. Steve’s breath whooshes from his lungs and a lightning strike of pain travels up his back. He thinks he’s shaking from the pain, except his crewneck is starting to feel damp against the kid’s face and he can see Dustin’s shoulders practically vibrating. “Hey, Dustin. Hey it’s ok, are you alright? What’s wrong man, talk to me.”

Dustin doesn’t look up, just keeps his face buried in Steve’s sweatshirt and grips him tighter. It hurts and it aches and it pulls at all of his injuries. He still lets Dustin hold on for as long as he needs to. 

There’s a slight movement out of the corner of his good eye, and he glances up towards the house to see a small, curvy woman smiling at them through the window. Not wanting to dislodge Dustin, he slightly lifts his hand to wave. He’s surprised when she honest to God clutches her heart and wipes what he assumes is a tear from her eye.

Steve’s already worried he screwed this whole thing up. He definitely didn’t think it would happen in front of a goddamned audience. 

The kid’s still holding on, but the shaking has subsided and he’s breathing easier. Steve smashes his hat to ruffle his hair, and Dustin backs off with a shriek. His face is covered in red blotches matching his bloodshot eyes. Steve looks down at his sweatshirt to find a tears-snot-spit wet patch stained into his chest.

“Dude, gross,” Steve huffs. At least he’s wearing an undershirt. Dustin just chuckles. 

“Like friends?” Dustin asks, still wiping at his face. “I wouldn’t mind, you know, hanging out. Whenever you’re not busy, I mean.”

It’s Steve’s turn to feel a burn behind his eyes. Relief fills him with warmth as his growing anxiety is washed away. Dustin wants him around. He wants to spend time with him and Steve never really thought he’d get this far. All he had was a half-baked idea to serve himself up for the one thing he knows he’s good for. And he was wanted.

He reaches out and pulls the kid back in for a hug, holding him tight despite the pain. Dustin starts trying to push off, so Steve flips him around under his armpit in a headlock, rubbing his knuckles roughly into the top of Dustin’s hat as he starts to screech again. He huffs, straightening out his hat, still sporting that iconic toothless smile. 

“Now,” Steve says, “all I have to do is ask your mom.”

“Don’t worry about that,” Dustin replies, turning around to lead Steve towards the house. He sees the curtains pulled roughly shut and the silhouette of the woman heading toward the front door. “She already knows all about you. I told her what happened. Well, the government version.”

“You told your mom about me?” Steve asks in awe.

“Duh, why wouldn’t I? Sure, you got your ass handed to you, but it was totally awesome!”

“Right,” Steve scoffs. He’ll let that one slide for now. “You’re sure she won’t mind?”

“Mom’s going to love you. She’s been asking about you all week.”

If she’s anything like her son, then hopefully Steve’s got nothing to worry about. And maybe if he can watch one kid, he can talk to the rest of their parents– look after the whole Party of gremlins. He can host after school hangouts and movie nights, sleepovers in the living room and pool parties in the summer. There’s the beginnings a plan forming in his head, which parents and kids he needs to talk to next. 

When he’s met with Mrs. Henderson’s warm smile, he thinks maybe the rest of this year will be alright.

[rotten-pomegranate]

day five: hunter/prey with yandere mahito

@aliceattheart @my-eyelash-flew-off

Warnings: hunter/prey, mentions of geto getting to use reader, Noncon, pain

/|\^._.^/|\ /|\^._.^/|\ /|\^._.^/|\ /|\^._.^/|\ /|\^._.^/|\ /|\^._.^/|\

When he said he had a fun game to play, you should’ve known from the start fun for him would mean terrifying for you

And it will be, he brought you to the dark woods explaining that he’s gonna chase you

“I’m sorry, your gonna chase me?” The desperate tone in your voice was slipping out

“Yes! It’ll be so fun and that’s not even the best park, if I catch you if I catch you before 20 minutes I can do whatever I want to you”

That beaming smile he always has is still ever present while he talks about hunting down and raping you in the woods 



“I’m gonna give you a three minute head start” three minutes is all you get

You look back up at him “I-if I win do I get anything?” He takes a while to respond

“Hmm, maybe a blanket or some new books, anyway your time is probably only two minutes now so you better start running”

What, of course the time already started, you take one last look before sprinting off into the dark woods

You run and run as deep as you can “ok I’m gonna come find you now”

No, no, fuck, your feel like a rabbit being hunted by something larger the life

You keep running until you hear him, oh my god he’s close, already? How, you ran the whole time

You find a tipped over tree next to a wall of rock and dirt to shimmy behind

His footsteps, you can hear them now, getting closer “y/nnnnnn, where are ya I’ve only got ten minutes left”

Thank whatever higher power was watching out for you

His footsteps got closer to the tree, closer again, and then further

You let out a sigh of relief at the same time you get grabbed and yanked by your hair

“I found you”

“Ahh” you cry out when you thrown against the ground

He climes on top of you and starts slobbering into your neck right away “ahh I’m so happy I found you”

He’s quick to rip your cloths off and then his, he’s never been one for waiting

trying to crawl away does nothing as he grabs your ankle and roughly yanks you back to him

Your back scarps against the cold forest floor and his face is in you neck sucking and biting like he had to let people know you where his

“Ahh I know I didn’t do anything but I think you ready to take my dick” no, what, you definitely aren’t ready

“B-but mahito please, you might hurt me”

His hand you’d to you pussy and spreads you open “well that’s to bad isn’t it, i want you as tight as you can be”



He spits on you like your nothing before rubbing it in, oh god that felt awful

He doesn’t care about your pleasure but having your pussy wet was way better then going in dry and forcing the wet out

“Ahh ok I’m gonna go in now” he limes himself up with you hole the same time you grip you eyes and clench your fists preparing for the most intimate pain possible

And why? Just because he can, he can make you feel this pain so he will

“Ahh!” He pushes in all at once, it was to much, your body wasn’t built for this

“Oh y/n, you just feel to good you know?” You couldn’t hear him, he no new that, the pain was to much for you to focus on anything else

It gets worse when he starts moving in and out at that inhuman pace he seems to think is normal

All you can do is latch onto his biceps and dig your nails in deep 

Jesus, he was getting bigger, he was expanding inside you, making it grow

You really did feel helpless when he did this, you where helpless, it shows how little he thinks you capable of, so little he lets you run away into the dark woods because he knows he capable of hunting you down

“Ahh I’m gonna cum ok?” It wasn’t a genuine question, he does everything he wants, doesn’t listen to anyone but the black haired man you’ve been offered to multiple times to which he gladly accepted

The abnormal about of cum he produced straften flowing in and leaking out of you coin sized hole that’s stretched far to much right

“Ahh ok let’s walk back now” he pulls out and stands up to get dressed while you try to match his pace

“I heard of another thing we can do but I wanna save that for a different night, ahh good a warning, maybe you can prep your body

Prep your body for more abuse hopefully after healing from this one

When you manage to get all you cloths in one pile he speaks up “hey, I want you to walk back naked”

You look up with horror “w-what” it was a 20 minute walk back to the sewer at the least

“I, want you, to walk back naked”

Well, not like you had a choice, what mahito wants, mahito gets after all

[ad-astrah]

Finally Watched Cinderella's Castle Digital Ticket (Twice) and I Gotta Get My Feelings Out Somewhere, Somehow (Part I)

Feel free to light up my DMs to chat about it!

And now, for my personal highlights/live reactions:

immediately I'm drawn in by Nick Lang's silly narrator voice and the way he warns us of what's coming. Especially the "muRrrDder!"

Jeff Blim cut his hair. JEFF BLIM CUT HIS HAIR. Not that I didn't like the long locks, but something about his Aladdin Era short hair gets me, man.

Jeff Blim literally getting to own the stage like the man was born to

Jeff Blim's slutty bard getup with the artfully messy hair and the heavy guyliner. That sinful bastard.

"Let's go." I'll follow you anyway, slutty bard.

Okay 80s rock jam! Hell yes.

idk why but I just love the line "There are tales in those walls, are they true or are they tall?"

THIS SET, THO. 80s vibes. Muppets vibes. Princess Bride vibes. Spooky, ethereal fairytale vibes. I love it! Props to the team who designed and built it.

prance, slutty bard boy, prance around that stage.

Jesus Fuck, I've only seen Joey's puppet but I'm already SOLD. Nick and Matt Lang and whoever else had a hand in making these puppets fucking OUTDID themselves! Did they use the Black Book and resurrect Jim Henson?

Throughout the show, the muppet vibes just absolutely amaze and delight me. Makes me feel like a little kid, spellbound by this fairytale. Except it's much darker, more gruesome, way more explicit, and extremely horny.

Oh look, it's Joey's Jingle/Jangle (whichever elf he was) voice from Black Friday.

Love me some o' dat non-binary representation from Ragweed. Starkid once again screaming GAY RIGHTS bitches.

I'm getting some of Jeff's Aragog from AVPS in this Narrator. Anyone else?

Stupid STUPID butcher!

Jon Matteson's accent. *giggles madly*

Angela IMMEDIATELY having to pause for applause before she finishes her first freaking line. The queen deserves it all, though.

The foreshadowing of the Stepmother cutting off Ella's feet. O_O

"It's furryyyyy and fouuuuul and full o' maGOTTTSSaaaaaggghhhh!"

Angela doing the little spinny finger thing in a guy's face to fluster them just like Max did to her character in Nerdy Prudes. I love these physical running gags. My fave being the Smoke Club, though.

OIIIINK oinkoinkoinkoinkoinkoink

Sir Preston asking for help from the audience. His "ELLAaaaaa....nooooo....."

The lighting in this entire show is SO COOL.

Again, Jeff just louging like a whore about the set like its his bitch. I live for it.

James' COSTUME. He looks SO FUCKING GOOD. Props to the costume folks...and to James' rockin' genes.

"But nothing compares to the juice and the hairs..." Oh no. Ohhhhh no I see where this is going. Don't say it, James, don't-- omg he said it.

er ee er ee er ee *window rolling down*

I thought the Prince drawing bewbies on the frosty window was funny already, and then he goes WAH WAH WAH and pretends to pinch them and I fucking lost it.

The Prince checkin' out DAT AZZZZZZ XD

"I'd wager she's wetter now than when I first found her bobbing in the river." OH MY GOD. PRINCE. THAT'S HER NOT-MOM.

If his highness has had every STD and beaten it, that's so fucked up but also damn, that boy's immune system is killin' it. Literally.

"Poor mad EllaAH"

"This is one thirsty FUCKING house." For real, omg.

"The offer stands firm. Come calling if you are!" *screams*

Jeff miming being crew and pulling the ropes for the curtains.

*audience member sneezes* "Bless you."

Angela's diction is next fucking level. PUNY. PINK. KIND.

The epic troll reveal! The puppets are SO GOOD.

THE FROG FUCKING TURNING AWAY AS SHE ASKED FOR IT TO DO SO SHE COULD KILL IT. CHRIST.

This bayou boogie song of Ella's is an absolute KILLER BOP. Holy shit. And it's SO perfect for Bryce's funky, sassy voice.

Speaking of which, BRYCE'S VOCALS. I'm gonna scream about them for forever and ever and ever. I love her voice SO FUCKING MUCH. I could listen to nothing else for the rest of my days and die a happy little gay.

"ohhhh woah woah waohhh" *flips the bird* She's such a queen for that.

"It needs oregano" WORK BITCH

Bryce's stage presence is fucking INSANE. I dunno how she's not on Broadway, but thank goodness we got her!

SIRE MANY TADPOLES!

GOD I love this absolutely depraved, horny little bastard of a prince.

It's amazing Tadeus hasn't murdered the prince yet. The man deserves a medal for the literal shit he's put up with.

Bugette?! I thought you choked on shit died and were consumed by the Hive Queen?

Rancilda being a typical troll and loving lurking under bridges and telling riddles.

Schuyler Sister vibes from the song with Justine and Lucy. So cute.

Justine and Lucy are SUCH real ones for IMMEDIATELY believing Ella about her family being trolls and for saying "fuck the ball, we're leaving NOW."

Shake dat ass, Mariah!

Lauren's physical comedy as Rancilda is NEXT LEVEL. I'm wheezing over here!

iSNn'tT it A BiiIItTcH?!

I LOOK GOOD IN THIS. What an absolute fucking BANGER. This song is gonna play in my head on repeat for the next decade. What a next level villain song.

Also this gives me some strongass Joan Jett vibes. "I love wearin' the skin of dead girls rock 'n' roll!"

and I hEEeaARr yoU'Re RiiiCCHhH

Seriously, is this the next Top Chart breakup revenge song? It should be.

"I really LIKE that song!" XD Putrice. I love how much of an absolute BIMBO she is.

Rancilda singing the song again. "SHUT UP STUPID BITCH, THE SONG'S OVER." "Okaaaaiiii"

Matt Dahan's ability to riff off the main songs and create motifs is otherworldly.

General MacNamara? Is that you?! Oh wait, nope. Still my slutty, slutty bard.

I LOOOOOOOVE this badass electric guitar intro, holy shit.

Kim Whalen, the queen, getting the bitchin' entrance she deserves.

Starkid is so, so good at their sound design to help immerse you in a scene without blowing a big budget or doing anything elaborate.

...Kim. My girl. Your arms must be tired.

She's just standing there, but Kim's stage presence is still so strong.

I can't get over how Jon's Sir Hops-A-Lot's voice is just a small...ahem. Hop, skip, and a jump away from Wiggly's.

JOEY. THAT ACCENT. You ABSOLUTE genius idiot. I love you for this stupidass voice.

Joey's bowl cut makes me giggle like mad.

I love these two puppets SO much.

GIT IT, KIM.

The call and response bit with Ella and the Goddess reminds me of Hamilton when Washington is dictating his Farewell Address. I know it's gotta be in other musicals, too, but that's the clearest comparison for this nerd at the moment.

Jeff sneaking in the "castle on a hill" song reference in this song.

Kim and Bryce dueting together is just Power incarnate. Holy cow. It's so good.

"You shall be as radiant and terrible as I." Ooooooh. Yes. Gimme.

The Narrator sneaking out from amidst the ensemble to finish off the song was really neat.

That fading spotlight before curtain for intermission with just Ella's face in view is so beautiful and haunting. What an epic close to Act I.

Also, it seems like this was also a strategic way to imply Ella's outfit being transformed there on stage during the song without actually having to do the tricky costume designing quick-change theater miracles of an ACTUAL outfit transformation. Which is really brilliant. Leave the audience to wonder until post-intermission about what Ella's starlight dress will look like.