#jesus. anyways this show rocks
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JUST WATCHED THE LAST 2 EPISODES OF PERSONS OF INTEREST SEASON 2 HAS ANYONE ELSE SEEN THIS SHIT PLEASE
#person of interest#FUCK dude so much happened. spoilers in the tags btw#with all the “ai” stuff happening rn it gave me a bit of whiplash to hear the term ai being used to#- describe an ACTUAL artificial intelligence. finally some good fucking food#THE MACHINE!!!!!!! SHES!!!!!!!!!! FUCK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!#that scene in ep 22 with nathan and grace and. shit dude that was heartwrenching#i don’t think i’ve ever seen harold in so much despair before#the fact that he immediately knew what he needed to do to keep everyone safe. AND HE KNEW THIS WOULD HAPPEN!! HE KNEW NATHAN WOULDNT BE SAF#id gotten the vibe by like halfway through the season that whatever killed nathan was probably a bomb#cos like harold didn’t have that limp while nathan was still alive and only got it after he died#and logically speaking a bomb would make the most sense. i didn’t know how that would happen but i knew that’s what it was#but fuck dude even though i was expecting it i almost cried#ALSO. root still has admin access???? which i suppose the machine doesn’t see her as a threat??#ALSO ALSO the mysterious Ma’am at the end of the ep who we didn’t see also knows about the machine?? WHO ARE YOU#IDENTIFY YOURSELF#jesus. anyways this show rocks#and that british fuck came back. i wonder if he’s gonna stick around#cos like i feel like the mystery he was part of got all uncovered n shit so idk where they’re gonna take him
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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!
#they filmed in ~four-episode blocks and i think he's performed the most on this show#that's so much freaking work jesus christ#on top of everything else he had going on at the time!#anyway. in other news, this was not accredited to the melody journey account and ep 6-7 have also been removed#(not from spotify! just from the md profile)#(and liu yuning's ep7 stages have weiiird accreditation man what are you people doing#(originally they both linked to a new profile for him instead of the verified one. now one of them links to the verified acc and one#is still accrediting the new acc?)#this is just me having fun observing the uploads HAHAHAH#also. thhhhis performance#oh. ohhhhhhhhhhhhghhh.#however obnoxious i have been about the other stages uh. i have been Worse about this one#JESUS CHRIST#WHAT THE HELL#(have to say. banger of an outfit. favourite outfit of the show. made the stage very distracting)#AND THE ROCK STYLE IS EEVVVVVVVERYTHING I WANTED TO HEAR#like when i saw the preview THIS was exactly what i was hoping for#aofnwjhdnw it's!!!! it's so good!!!!!! and that chorus was so powerful#stuck in my head throughout my last exams this week#the punch...#cjajndjwjdjqjxnwnxnajndjwudonfksjxjwjnfjs#chryso.txt#zhou shen#周深#音乐缘计划#melody journey#Spotify
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Shower good. 👍👍👍
In bed now. Considering making a hot bowl of instant noodles ...
#sucktacular sucks#man i wish i had chicken wings so bad...#id go comatose for realsies after tho and ive got stuff to do later jfjsnfn#also listening to my angsty teen music and just mm 💕💕#RED i know youre singing about Jesus and stuff but Not To Me youre not. 💕💕💕#christian rock didnt need to go so hard#but they did and its so hopeless romantic my existence is nothing without you -core#my only regret in life is i never did a Beyond Birthday x L Lawliet slide show/amv yo any RED music#or even The Birthday Massacre#and thats really sad#i failed myself#(<- saying jokingly)#but if i ever do make a new video i def wanna do one for RED or TBM or even Breaking Benjamin#one day perhaps#i dont think ill use fan art unless its painstakingly sourced and i ask the artists permission#but i can def see myself trying to do some kind of still image slide show with my own art#but id have to story board that out and draw it all and thats. so much...#but man i was really inspired by reggi's collab#anyway
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just had a frightful deja vu worlds colliding moment
#um. jesus christ. okay i will share the entire story in the tags sorry i need to say something#its not like. important. but its so?? to me#anyways circa like 2017 or whatever i got into bowie posted about it on my instagram (not a music page at the time)#and someone comments something like ‘nice!’ or whatever#so i follow them and a few months later i make a classic rock instagram page and join the fandom#(BAD time in my life. dont recommend.)#and naturally that account is one i follow and they are one of the absolute biggest beatles fanpages#and even though i left the community in like 2019 i did always follow them to some extent#cause they have an unrelated art account and all that yknow#so anyways flash forward to august 2022 im at the orville concert#and something orville does is give out roses to audience members#he gives one to someone in the very front of the pit because they sang every word#im sure u can see where this is going#and now flash forward im scrolling the comments on his latest post i click on a fan account#in the bio it says ‘got a rose on [date]’ and im like wow! that’s my show haha#then i see the fucking art account i follow linked in the bio#so Yes. the guy who got a rose at orville is a guy i used to be friends with as a young beatles stan#crazy thing is i thot they were american like at the time i thought in the general community we had there was only me#and one other girl from toronto#but anyways. its not important but that was a formative and overall Bad time in my life that i never talk about lol#it’s weird to me yknow. im only writing this for myself its like a diary processing my emotions and all#tales
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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🙏🙏🙏🙏
#riordanverse#pjo#chb#camp half blood#percy jackson#leo valdez#toa#pride#jason grace#valgrace#annabeth chase#percabeth#nico di angelo#piper mclean#solangelo#cecil markowitz#lou ellen blackstone#clarisse la rue#connor stoll#malconnor
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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.
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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:
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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):
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And here's Bathing Beauty (the vaudeville number):
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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.
#YOU'RE WELCOME ANON#anon asks#Andrew Lloyd Webber#Patti LuPone#evita#sunset boulevard#phantom of the opera#love never dies
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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.”
#javier peña#javier pena fanfiction#javier pena fic#javier pena smut#narcos au#narcos fanfiction#narcos fic#joel miller#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller fic#joel miller smut#the last of us fanfiction#the last of us fic#tlou au#pedro pascal characters#pedro pascal cinematic universe#oaksfics
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“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.
#rivals#rivals fanfic#rivals fanfiction#rupert campbell black fanfic#rupert campbell black#rupert campbell black x reader#rupert campbell-black#alex hassell#lizzie vereker#katherine parkinson#rupert & lizzie🥹
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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
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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💚
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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?!😭😭”
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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.
#steve harrington and the party#steve harrington fic#steve and dustin#steve harrington#dustin henderson#steve and the party#good babysitter steve harrington#babysitter steve harrington#the babysitter chronicles#stranger things fic#post season 2#queeniewritesstories
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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.
#starkid#team starkid#starkid productions#cinderella's castle#cc spoilers#cinderella's castle spoilers#ella ashmore#bryce charles#kim whalen#james tolbert#jeff blim#jon matteson#lauren lopez#joey richter#mariah rose faith casillas#curt mega#matt dahan#nick lang#matt lang#lang brothers#angela giarratana
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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
#mahito x reader headcannons#mahito headcannons#reader x mahito#mahito x reader smut#mahito headcanons#jjk mahito#jjk#mahito smut#mahito x reader#mahito#mahito x you#kinktober
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SUPERNOVA - BILLY HARGROVE X READER (PART ONE)
word count: 3135 // masterlist | inbox (please request) | WIP list
Summary: max's english tutor has a black eye and a shitty alibi. billy sees right through it.
Contents/Warnings: fem!reader, angst, hurt/comfort, eventual happy ending, mentions of abuse, injuries mentioned (black eye), reader is abused by her mother just like billy is by his father
A/N: thank you for 300 followers!!! have this as a little gift from me to you <3 basic biology part three is in the works, don't worry! i just wrote this in a fit of sleep deprived passion the other night after thinking about it for a week or so and i wanted to share :) i hope you enjoy! the ending of this is pretty straightforward and, though i plan to write more parts, this can be read on its own for now.
reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated! your feedback motivates me to write more, so thank you for your support :-)
There’s never a good reason for Max to stomp into Billy’s room. It’s always either her demanding a ride somewhere, asking for money, or shouting at him to turn his music down. This time, though, there’s no music playing, and it’s nearing 11:00 PM, so he’s not sure why she’d need money or a ride.
He glances up at her, really more of a glare, through his eyelashes, reclined against the wall as he lounges on his bed. He’s got a magazine in hand and the pages are as boring as the cover was, but he’d rather stare at faded jet ski advertisements than read the book he’s supposed to be working on for English.
She stops just inside the doorway, jacket on and shoes laced. He narrows his eyes at her, something of a question, and she sounds just as venomous as he looks when she replies.
“I need to borrow your window.” She mutters, piercing eyes set on him.
He’s heard her say a lot of weird things since they started living together. Mom, I can’t find my left rollerskate, Why is my bra in the freezer?, and We’re not going in the theater, we’re going to sit outside and talk, have previously topped the list but this is off the charts.
“Sure, Max,” He drawls, fingers tightening against the waxy magazine paper, “Just haul it back in here when you’re done, okay?”
“You know what I mean,” She huffs, already lunging for his bed. She practically topples him in her overzealous attempt to reach the window, and he shoots a hand out to steady himself as the mattress rocks. He has half a mind to kick her onto the floor but he watches her click a flashlight open from her jacket pocket, and stares with suspicious intrigue instead.
“Come on, come on,” She huffs, clicking the light on, off, on, off, “Where is she?”
“Who?” Billy leans forwards, peering out the window into the blackened neighborhood, “Jesus, Max, don’t go shining lights into people’s windows at night, they’ll think you’re some creep trying to watch them change.”
“Yeah, I’m sure you know that from experience,” She grumbles, shoving his hand away when he tries grabbing the light.
“I’m not kidding,” Billy seethes, muscled arm coming to combat her defenses, nearly shoving her off of the end of the bed, “What are you even trying to do, anyways?”
“I’m trying to talk to my tutor,” She snaps, landing a sharp slap to his thigh that reddens the skin there, “Butt out, butthead.”
“Assface,” Billy grumbles, rubbing at the tender spot on his leg with half a mind to whack her upside the head. She ignores him completely, desperately flicking the light at a ground floor window.
“Do you really need tutoring help now?” Billy groans, the incessant clicking preventing him from what was supposed to be his before-bed relaxation.
“She wasn’t at school today,” Max explains in a huff, “Or- like, she didn’t show up at my school. She called this morning to say she was sick, but she sounded fine, and I heard someone in the parking lot say that they saw her outside her house, just sitting there, like, really late last night.”
“So she was getting some fresh air,” Billy deadpans, “Now get out of my room.”
“Would it kill you to cooperate?” Max turns to him with such a judgemental stare that Billy’s surprised he doesn’t wither away right on the spot. Hell hath no fury like a teenage girl scorned, he thinks, annoyance bubbling in his chest.
“She’s obviously not coming,” Billy reasons, his patience wearing thin after almost two minutes of flashlight nonsense, “She’s probably sleeping. She’s got the flu or something, and you’re gonna wake her up and make her even more sick. Just leave her alone, and leave me alone.”
“I’m not asking you to be a part of this!” She gushes, jaw set in a hard frown and eyes rolling when he props his elbow up on the windowsill, cheek smushed into a bored expression against his palm.
“I just want to see if she’s okay, because she doesn’t normally get sick, and I haven’t seen her window open all day, and I really think that something might be wrong, so-”
After a staggering two minutes and forty-six seconds of morse code from hell, your curtains part. Max practically lights up at the sliver of light that appears between the drapes, but when your face pops between it, her breath hitches in a gasp.
Your eye is bruised. It’s swollen shut and purple, an ugly stain that blooms down your cheek, like a rose that sticks its thorns straight into Billy’s chest. His posture, previously saggy and bored, stiffens until he’s nearly pressed against the glass, brows furrowed in horror as his lips part ever-so-slightly.
“Oh my god,” Max breathes, and you regard them both with a weary gaze.
Max lifts the lower half of Billy’s window, slipping out the gap with such agility and speed that Billy doesn’t have a chance to try to stop her before she’s already outside. He rushes to follow her, cringing as his bare feet land in damp piles of leaves.
“What happened to you?” Max runs to your window, bracing her hands on the sill.
“Nothing,” You try to smile, and it pulls at the skin around your eye, finishing the expression off with a wince, “I just- it’s silly, okay? I slipped and fell on the ice out front and I hit the stair rail on the way down. I was too embarrassed to go to school, ‘cause I knew everyone would ask, so I just called out sick. I’m sorry, Max, I know today was our day, but I’ll do double time once this heals.”
The more you ramble, the quicker you spew your pre-determined speech, the more the thorns lodge themselves in Billy’s gut. It’s familiar behavior, having an outlandish excuse at your disposal, reciting it like poetry, blaming the bruises on a misstep down the stairs rather than a rage-fueled fist. He’s done the same to countless teachers, all staring down at him with a condescending sneer, assuming he’d instigated another fight.
Max might not be well acquainted with different types of bruises - and god he hopes she never has to be - but Billy certainly is. And your black eye is not from a stair railing, he knows that. It looks the same as his does whenever Neil decides he’s in a fighting mood, and it doesn’t seem like you have the frozen peas that Billy usually medicates his marks with.
“It’s okay!” Max promises, and thankfully she commands enough of your attention to where you don’t notice Billy’s grief-stricken stare, looking for all the world like he’d been punched in the gut.
‘It’s okay, we can just meet up some other time. Or- or I can come over to your house! So you don’t have to show your face anywhere. And I won’t tell,” She insists, hands dug snugly into the pockets of her jacket, “I’m good at keeping secrets.”
So are you, Billy notes, just not to the people with the same ones.
“I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” You frown slightly, biting the inside of your cheek, “This really hurts, and it’s kind of giving me a headache, so… might be best to just meet when it’s healed.”
“That’s fine,” Max nods, reaching up and through the window to sling her arms around your neck in a rushed hug, “Just- call me when it’s better, okay? My teacher set us this new essay, and it’s got some stupidly complicated prompt, so I need your help figuring out-”
Billy watches as your head ticks up, eyes widening slightly as you tune into the sounds of your house. He knows the look all too well, you’ve heard someone coming.
“That’s great Max,” You stammer, reaching for the window pane to close it, "I’ve gotta go!”
“-how to… write it.” She finishes, face wrinkling in confusion when you slam the window shut, yanking the curtains closed, “Feel better…”
“Go,” Billy jumps to action, hearing a raised voice from within your room, not your own, “Max, move!”
He pushes her along the side of their house, shoving her around the back until they’re out of the line of sight from your window. He peers around the corner from behind an overgrown trellis, one that lets him see you without you seeing him. He waits with bated breath, ignoring Max’s indignant protests and slamming a hand over her mouth.
She licks his palm, but he manages to stay calm and keep it there. He will smear it on her cheek later, though.
Sure enough, Billy watches your curtains fly open. There’s a woman in the window now, and you’re standing behind her, expression unreadable. Then you speak, and Billy can’t hear it. Your voice must be soft, gentle, calming. The woman barrely reacts, eyes scanning wildly for whoever you’d been talking to. But Billy keeps Max quiet, pinching her hard when she tries escaping his grip.
Billy watches the woman in your window with a hatred he’s only ever felt towards Neil. She acts the same, menacing glares and a puffed-up chest. You react just as he does, a personified tension-diffuser as you shrink in on yourself and give steady, slow answers. She’s shouting, you’re mumbling. She’s advancing, you’re backing away. She’s grabbing your wrist, forcing you close to her, and you’re squeezing your eyes shut.
Billy’s stomach churns; he can’t watch this any longer.
He herds Max to the other side of the house, keeps her restrained with one hand and pries at her window with the other. It opens smooth and easy, no squeaking that would alert their parents to their escapade.
Once they’re both inside, she flips.
“You asshole,” She huffs, “You manhandled me! You really couldn’t just let me have one nice conversation with my friend? You had to yank me away like some psychopath?”
“She wasn’t going to come back,” Billy murmurs, a glint in his eyes urging her to lower her own voice, “And she didn’t fall down the stairs. Go to sleep, Max.”
He feels a pillow hit him in the back as he strides out of her room, and each step down the hallway towards his own feels like he’s numbing from the inside out. The role reversal of his own life had been so mind-shattering, watching a scene from his household happen in real time in front of him instead of a torturous memory in his nightmares.
By the time he reaches his room, his fingers are too numb to shut the door. He kicks it closed instead, staring out of the still-opened window to watch your own. The curtains are drawn again, shutting you off from the world.
He stands there staring for what feels like seconds, but is probably minutes with the way his brain is warping his thoughts. Abuse felt so lonely, it was a soundproof room with padded walls, but they stung like hot coals when his dad came stomping in to shove him up against them. His family, his safe space, his padded room, came with the irony of only existing alongside pain, fear, and anxiety. And knowing there was an identical room beside his for god knows how long, thick layers of insulation drowning out each of your cries and blocking out each other’s existence, makes him sick.
His eye stings with the residual image of your own, a feeling he knows all too well. His hand, on instinct, tingles with a cold sort of sensation, the same that he got from grabbing the ice-covered peas out of the freezer.
He’s off to the kitchen in a hurry, feet padding carefully across the floor so as not to alert anyone of his presence. The biggest challenge is opening the freezer door quietly, but he’s a pro at it by now. He takes the peas back to his room, but this time he doesn’t curl up in his bed with them pressed to his eye, he clutches them tightly and heads for the window.
Max’s flashlight is discarded on the sill, and he wraps it in his free fist. He clicks it on cautiously, testing the sound to see how it echoes in the empty space between your house and his. It’s not obnoxiously loud, hopefully no one can hear it.
He flashes it against your window, only for a second, then ducks beneath the sill. He waits, expecting an explosion of sound as your mother reaches out to grab him. But nothing happens, so he straightens up to his full height. The wind nips at his bare arms, goosebumps erupting over the skin not covered by his muscle tank. He waves the flashlight once more at your window, covering it with his thumb to flash it instead of clicking the button rapidly.
He hears shuffling from inside, then silence. Then shuffling again, a little closer, and silence. Then more shuffling, and the routine continues until he hears your fingers scrape at the window pane.
You duck under the curtains this time, easier to slip back inside and shut the window instead of drawing the curtains, “Max, I can’t-”
Billy doesn’t know what to say when your eye catches him. He blinks, once, twice, three times, watching as your anxious eyes rove over him. Only then does he register the chill in his hand, the peas.
“Here,” He murmurs, voice soft and slightly raspy, as he holds the package out to you, “Ten minutes, then turn the package around, then ten more minutes. And if it’s still icy, do it over again.”
You take the peas because you have to, because he’s pressing the cold package into your hand. Your fingers wrap around it and you peer curiously at the image on the front, only glancing back up at him when he shifts in his stance, leaves crushed beneath his feet.
“The package rustles,” He warns you, “Be careful. Don’t get caught.”
“I won’t,” You finally murmur, breaking your stunned silence, “I- Uh, thank you. It’s.. Billy, right?”
“Yeah,” He breathes, nodding once. He’s half aware that his curls aren’t exactly perfect like they typically are, because nodding sends one of them tumbling into his eyesight over his forehead, “That’s me.”
“Y/N,” You mumble, and this time even Billy hears the heavy footfalls in your hallway. They set you on edge again, and he yanks his fingers back from the windowsill so that you can snap it shut, “I gotta go.”
“Bye,” He whispers, voice lost to the night as he stands outside your window. He ducks beneath the sill again, where your mom can’t see him if she decides to search the premises. He doesn’t hear anything from your room, though, and he takes it as a good sign when the footsteps retreat. Then he hears the soft crunch of the package of peas, muffled beneath what he assumes is your blanket as bed springs creak from within.
His eyes snap shut at the sound, envisioning you curled up beneath your comforter, hugging the bag of peas to your bruise. It’s a position that feels so natural to him he almost replicates it, back slumped against the siding of your house. The rustling stops; you got yourself settled.
Only then does he move, climbing back through his window and shutting it for the night. He can’t sleep, though, eyes drifting towards your window from his seat on his bed. He watches, he waits, he stares until his eyes sting, every second that passes a blessing for the lack of commotion it causes. When he does fall asleep it’s after the upstairs lights of your house have shut off, because only then is it over, only then is it safe. He sleeps in solidarity with you, knowing that the click of the lightswitch puts you at ease just like it does him; if there's someone else awake, it’s not safe to sleep. He’ll wake up tomorrow morning with a stiff neck from sleeping up against the wall, but his eyes will flutter open and the first thing he’ll see is your window, hopefully open to showcase peace inside.
Never in his life has he felt connected to someone his age. That’s what abuse does, that’s what Neil does. He isolates Billy, keeping him under his thumb so the boy can’t escape his clutches. But now there’s a glimmer of hope right next door. Hope, he supposes, isn’t the right word. A muddy black eye isn’t hopeful. It is, though, when it’s matching his own, when your scars and bruises line up with each other’s to map out constellations of torture. He wants to chart them, find out where the patterns are, spit out the stories behind them.
He’s spent enough time stargazing his own past, picking a new ball of fire each night to examine. To pick apart, to wish he’d have acted differently in, to regret. Now there’s a whole other sky mere feet away from him, and he yearns to chart it, to explore its patterns in the desperate hope of finding companionship. Oh, that cluster? A missed curfew. That bright one? Backtalk.
He’s always felt like a potential supernova. Like one day, all of the hurt, rage, and despair inside of him is going to burst forth in an explosion of color, blood and guts paired with anguish and heartache.
And now, knowing there’s another ticking time bomb beside him, two panes of glass separating the two dying stars, he has hope. Maybe it’s morbid, to want to explode in tandem. To seek connection in even destruction. All Billy knows is that if he can’t get out, he’ll die.
He thinks about it for a moment; getting out. Shooting across the galaxy, hurtling over the inky black sky until the swirling black hole that is Neil Hargrove can’t suck him in anymore. Landing somewhere where he burns bright without the threat of explosion.
And for the first time since that vision began, he sees two stars. One yours and one his, twin flames, both rocketing towards a safe corner of the universe, one where no one else can dim your glow.
Billy knows right then and there, he has to get to know you. He’s never tried making real friends, never wants to get close enough to have to reveal that Daddy hits him and Mommy - New Mommy - doesn’t care. But you’re the same as him, a dimming star puttering along with the desperate hope of migrating instead of exploding. And if you can feed off of each other’s light, merge into one, he knows you’ll be strong enough to escape together, to go out without a bang.
reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated! your feedback motivates me to write more, so thank you for your support :-)
#billy hargrove#billy hargrove x reader#billy hargrove imagine#billy hargrove fanfiction#billy hargrove x you#billy hargrove x y/n#billy hargrove angst#billy hargrove fluff#billy hargrove oneshot#billy hargrove blurb#billy hargrove drabble#billy hargrove fanfic#billy hargrove fic#billy hargrove x reader fanfiction#billy hargrove x fem!reader
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TWD Physical Affection Hcs
Bc im bored in class again🫶🫶
Hugging, PDA, kissing, and some cuddling hcs
THIS IS A NWLNW BLOG!! WOMEN DNI
Rick Grimes
Hugs tightly
When its a long hug he tend to rock back and forth
Kisses your head in hugs when he leaves to go out on a run or something
Hugs from behind when youre doin something
Rubs circles on your waist with his thumb when yall cuddling
Aight with PDA like he aint gonna overdo it but he'll definitely hug you in public
Cuddling is usually him on his back and you having your head on his chest
Radiates warmth. Like constantly
Non sexual neck kisses kinda guy
Daryl Dixon
Was really really awkward at first with hugs
Youre his first real relationship so like???
When he gets around to it tho he fuckin CLINGS
Like its a bit tight but not too tight yknow
Hugs you when he leaves for a run or hunts and hugs tightly when hes back
Daryl prefers to not do pda tho
The most huggin he'll do in public is like awkward side hugs yknow??
Daryl likes to face you when yall cuddling but usually you end up with either him as the big spoon or your face in his chest
Soft kisses. Mwah mwah
Forehead kisses like alot alot
Carl Grimes
Also radiates warmth
His hugs are pretty loose unless hes been away for a while
He rests his head on your shoulder alot
Also has the habit of rocking while hugging for a while
Carl doesnt show affection in public that much
He holds your hand and gives you quick kisses
Loves kissing you like hes down for any kind of kiss
Forehead kisses, hand kisses, cheek kisses
Bro is literally an attention whore /j
Kisses you after fights
Cuddling starts with you in his chest or him in yours. But he moves around in his sleep quite a bit
Usually ending with him on top of you
Glenn Rhee
Lovely hugs chefs kiss
Strokes your hair when yall hug
I feel like his hands are like very warm but the rest of him changes constantly
Kisses you every morning and every night
Likes to be little spoon but you didnt hear that from me
Usually puts his face in your chest when yall cuddling
Aight with PDA but gets if you aint
Usually holds hands with you
Another non sexual neck kisses guy
Paul (Jesus) Rovia
Aint against pda.
Aka he usually holds your hand or hand an arm around you waist
He moves alot in his sleep so cuddling will start with yall spooning or facing each other
Then in the morning you guys are spread out on the bed
Enjoys any kind of kiss
When hes gone for long (or nearly fucking dies) on a run he gives mighty tight hugs
Swings you around in hugs when hes particularly happy
Negan Smith
Tight hugs tight hugs tight hugs
Kisses roughly usually
Its just how he is hes a rough man
Will be alot softer though if its been a long day
Hes a big spoon sorry
Rocks you in tight hugs
Will also swing you around
Kisses you anywhere and in anyway
Doesnt matter
Neck kisses neck kisses
Rubs circles on your waist when cuddlin
Simon
Another rough kisser
Likes to kiss you randomly to surprise you
Always has his hands on you in public
He puts his hand in your back pocket or around your waist
Non sexual (and probably sexual) neck kisses
Kisses your hand as a joke
Warm. Like a furnace
He likes to lay on top of you
Always feelin you up when yall cuddling like man��💀
Owen (Wolf)
Doesnt care where
Hugs real tightly (possessive mf)
Cuddles are usually him being a big spoon
Hugs from behind alot
Either hardly any pda or hes all over you
Depends on his mood
Warm hands like immensely warm
Likes to hold your hand but would never admit it
Kisses are actually pretty gentle
Unless yall are making out then🧍♂️
#twd x reader#twd x male reader#rick grimes x reader#rick grimes x male reader#daryl dixon x reader#daryl dixon x male reader#glenn rhee x reader#glenn rhee x male reader#carl grimes x reader#carl grimes x male reader#simon twd#simon the savior#negan x male reader#negan x reader#negan smith x reader#negan smith x male reader#simon twd x reader#twd simon x reader#owen twd#wolf twd#wolf twd x reader#owen twd x reader#twd owen x reader#twd wolf x reader#paul rovia x reader#jesus rovia x reader#paul jesus rovia x reader#paul rovia x male reader#the walking dead x male reader#the walking dead x reader
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