#look i know dvds are old-school

[sojourner-between-worlds]

I was about to get on here and complain about how only the UK has (so far) gotten a DVD release of the Alex Rider series but then I got on Amazon and found that there are DVD listings

Thing is, I have heard not a peep about it expect for the UK release which leads me to ask:

Are these a legit DVD release? The single review on it says that even though they are from Australia they seem to be region-free and play on US players which seems sketchy enough right there and also I don't want to purchase some bootleg. Anyone know anything about this?

[pomefioredove]

movie night

summary: vil devotes his time to showing you all the movies you haven't seen yet type of post: short fic characters: vil schoenheit additional info: romantic, FLUFF, reader is yuu, reader is gender neutral, kinda short author's note: I so often think about how yuu is completely unfamiliar with pop culture in twisted wonderland. vil would lose his mind if he found out you hadn't seen a single movie yet. in my heart I know he's a little nerdy about it

It's to be expected.

Of course. Of course you haven't had the time or the means.

It's perfectly reasonable that you'd put your studies and social obligations before leisure time. He understands.

But hearing you so openly admit that you haven't seen a single movie since arriving in this world, let alone one of his, doesn't sit well with Vil Schoenheit.

As it turns out, the mythological being who doesn't spend their free time absorbed in media is real, and they're standing right in front of him with an apologetic smile.

Oh, you poor, poor thing.

Even after the conversation dies and you part ways on good terms, Vil can't shake this odd, itchy feeling.

He wonders what it must be like- not understanding anyone's references, being left out of conversations, still so dependent on a culture that doesn't even exist here.

Is there something wrong with the people you spend your time with? Surely at least one of them would take the time to show you the classics. Just one.

No wonder everyone regards you as naive and innocent. No one's taken the time to explain anything about this world to you. And he's sure that extends far beyond cinema...

"What is this?"

It's the first thing you ask when he opens the door to you. Ever curious, ever clueless.

"Is that a rhetorical question?" he says, looking thoroughly unamused with your naivete.

A projector. A white screen. And a tray full of luxury skincare essentials that he'll be sure to test on you while you're distracted.

"Seriously," you say. "What's going on? Your message was really vague."

He sighs. "Oh, goodness, just come inside,"

Vil sits you down on the edge of his bed and hands you a plush headband to push your hair out of your eyes. He's more than pleased at your lack of protests thus far, and continues to take advantage of your willingness while smearing a sweet-smelling face mask over your cheeks.

"It needs to set before we start,"

"Start what?"

Vil smirks, standing and drifting across the room to a large wardrobe- no, a cabinet. He opens it- no, a shelf. Packed full of DVDs, arranged by date and in pristine condition.

"Wow, Vil. I never took you for a nerd,"

His gaze sharpens. "Hardly. And try not to talk so much right now, you'll crack the mask,"

He hums merrily, delicate fingers dancing over the smooth plastic cases before stopping at a soft white one. "This'll do,"

You watch as Vil returns to your side, carefully inspects your face, and then walks back around to tinker with the projector. You, of course, wait patiently, hands folded neatly in your lap as the screen ahead of you comes to life.

He turns off the lights and sits beside you as a white light illuminates your face, turning the hue of the mask a strange color.

"This is a classic," he whispers. "It's the first film I remember loving."

"It's that good?"

He chuckles. "No, it's quite outdated, and terribly unfunny. I'm just fond of it,"

If there's anything Vil Schoenheit is, it's honest. The entire black and white picture (which you surmise is quite old by Twisted Wonderland standards) is heaped with unfunny and confusing references, terribly paced, and acted like a primary school play.

And yet, there's a sense of warmth that permeates the external terribleness of it, that of which takes form in each of Vil's awkward laughs.

You revel in each of his little comments, his tidbits about the actors, his trivia about the production. He certainly seems to know what he's talking about, and his grace and confidence almost distract you from how nerdy he's really being.

Though, he's really not paying close attention to the screen. Vil seems far more interested in watching you, your reactions, almost as if searching for some kind of approval in the expressions you make. Do you laugh at this joke? Do you ask about this plot twist? Do you enjoy this song?

It's a completely alien experience, having him looking to you for validation, although you make sure to comment on how much you enjoyed yourself. Just to see him smile again.

"Same time next week, then," he says. "One movie won't be enough to catch you up on decades of pop culture, after all."

And thus, a tradition is born.

It's strange for him to think about how you've made yourself a home in his schedule. Wedged between expensive photo shoots and meetings with luxury brands, there's you. One single name in the same spot every week.

He couldn't admit it, but you've quickly become the highlight of his calendar.

"And this is just after they transitioned to movies with sound. It was a grand extinction event, not every studio nor star survived," he says, nodding to the screen ahead.

You hum in agreement. Your eyes are heavier than usual, and you're leaning against your elbow, absent-mindedly agreeing with everything he says.

A part of Vil wants to tease you for finding his taste in film boring, but he's not even sure if you have the mental capacity to listen to big words right now.

"Sleepy?"

"Grim kept waking me up last night..." you sigh. "I'm paying attention, I promise."

He watches you lie through your teeth, and then he watches as your words grow heavy and your body slumps over, awkwardly positioned against his.

Vil sighs- whatever is he going to do with you and that terrible sleep schedule of yours?- and readjusts so that your head is neatly set in the crook of his neck and your body is comfortably fit against his.

He finishes the movie, and lets the screen play the menu sequence over and over again. It's not really worth waking you up over, after all.

You're so cute when you're sleeping.

He hates himself for thinking that. You're perfectly inelegant- awkwardly breathing, practically drooling. And yet, he could stay here for the rest of the night and not wholly regret it in the morning. He just wishes you'd picked a better time to fall asleep on him.

Someday, he'd gladly return to bed to cuddle with you after he'd done his evening routine.

But... just this once, he'll let it go.

[girlbossagenda]

HOW TO ROMANTICIZE YOUR LIFE

⪩ 𔘓 ⪨

Today I'm going to give you some tips(activities)on how you can romanticize your 3d reality, and not only make your experience more enjoyable, but also manifest things better!

୨୧use vintage cameras୨୧

You know those old vhs high school vlogs that you can find on youtube or those high school vlogs from years ago?, see how much fun they have? Try to capture the moment with the sole reason to capture it! It will be fun to look back to them years to come!

୨୧Leave your mark on things୨୧

Now I don't want to promote illigal actions but if you want you can go in those grunge like Abandoned places like an old train or wall and sign it or do graffiti on it!

୨୧Go on a trip with your friends୨୧

It doesn't have to be too long, it can be just as short as going in the sea! Or drive with your bike through the hills of the city, it can just be a walk too!

୨୧Get a secret place/hideout୨୧

This is so movie like, if you notice everyone has a special place where to hangout, some times it's a studio, sometimes it's a tree house other times it can be the school library or just an abandoned place! If you want for example to make your life more like a movie, places like this will immediately make you affirm that "I the teenage dream life" or that "my life it's like a coming of age movie".

୨୧Make a burn book୨୧

Idea that came from the one and only mean girls! You don't really have to do it with your friends, just do it for yourself and unleash your rage, this is an amazing outlet for rage and other feelings that may distrupt you thought processing in your manifestation!

୨୧Watch childhood movies୨୧

Barbie movie, monster high movies, bratz movies etc ... If you have DVDs try to look between them, maybe you'll find some good oldie! You can even do a movie night just about hitting some nostalgia! Try to remember the feelings your felt while watching them, and use those positive feelings in your manifestations.

୨୧Photobooths and polaroids୨୧

Similar to the digicam idea! This are such cute ideas if you want to decorate your room ~ over the years I saw how creative we can get with these, you can add some pics in your manifestation journal or write and affirmation under or behind them!

Hi bonitas this is all for today, I know its been a while since I posted something, but life kept me very busy! I hope ill be more active from now on! hope I helped and entertained you xoxo gorgeous

-𝓐

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

somewhere in the back of your mind, you know this isn’t how things should be.

your living room is dimly lit, illuminated only by the tv in front of you, and the moon is glowing a pearlescent blue. flimsy strings of moonlight spill over your floorboards, reflecting off the windows, and whatever you’re doing isn’t what you should be doing. you shouldn’t be awake this late, shouldn’t be gorging on sweets before bed, shouldn’t be having a rendezvous with an enemy — shouldn’t be watching movies with your ex of ten years. 

most of all, you shouldn’t be feeling nearly this content.

getō is seated right beside you, legs comfortably spread, popping a macaron into his mouth. chewing it slowly, savouring the flavour. or lack thereof, you suppose — he’s digested far too many curses for his taste buds to remain intact.

or so he says, anyhow.

this time, he brought pastries with him. expensive ones, you can tell, just from the package alone; a soft pastel pink box, wrapped up in silk, golden letters etched into the front. mont blancs, macarons, two slices of strawberry shortcake. carefully picked, suited to your tastes.

(you aren’t actually too fond of sweets, anymore, but how is he to know? he hasn’t seen you in years.)

”would you like me to make us some tea?”

when you turn your gaze towards him, getō’s wearing a smile. laid-back, the slightest upward curl, tilting his head in a manner you’re far too used to. eyes shining with something keen. somehow, it feels difficult to tear your gaze away from his.

but you manage, turning forward, grasping control over your sleepy vocal cords. ”no, i’m good.”

a low hum. he’s still looking at you.

”coffee?”

”the sweets are more than enough.”

this time, a smile — one you can’t see but still somehow sense. a little bit amused. getō gazes at you with a knowing look, watches you glance at the box of pastries on your coffee table; studying you under the monochrome flicker of the tv-screen. 

”understood,” he finally quips, leaning back into the leather couch. exhaling a little breath. ”eat as much as you’d like. i bought them for you, you know.”

you nod, nibbling at a macaron. not glancing his way.

being alone with him still feels a little awkward. a little tense — to be curled up on the same couch, watching the same movie, just like your old sleepovers in high school. there’s an elephant in the room that neither of you have addressed — not since he first showed up, just a couple weeks ago, waltzing up to your apartment with a plastic bag of dvds after a decade of estrangement. wearing heavy robes, and a familiar smile. asking to be let in.

and despite every single circumstance telling you not to, you did just that. you’ve yet to refuse. 

(satoru would hate you, if he knew.)

so he’s there, right beside you, and you don’t talk about it. not his choice, not your work, not anything except the movie playing on the screen in front of you. this time, it’s one he’s seen before. beautiful, he called it, and for once you think it might be a romance — if the kiss between the main actors is anything to go by. 

you wonder if that’s why he says it.

”say, do you hate me?”

you still. freezing in place, for a moment, discontent but not surprised. he’s always been like this; breaking any illusion of peace before you can find solace in it. 

you bite back a groan, and shoot him a glance out of the corner of your eye — but he isn’t looking at you. only at the tv, at the two men, holding hands and standing on a bridge in the rain, watching the stars twinkle in the sky. and you sigh, turning your head to look at him fully, parting your lips. your voice comes out frustrated. 

”do you really want to have this conversation now?”

”when else?” he chuckles, meeting your gaze with one brow raised. amber eyes gleaming with mirth, and something else, something less practiced. ”you don’t have to answer. i’m just curious.”

you gulp down the last of the macaron, licking your lips for any leftover crumbs — unaware of how his eyes follow the movement. ”are you?”

a hum buzzes in the back of his throat, a tiny rasp. you wonder if he’s tired. ”i hadn’t expected this, you know.” he taps at his knee with the pads of his fingers, rhythmic and controlled. ”i thought it was just wishful thinking… that you’d let me come this close.”

you feel his gaze on you. it’s heavy, heavy like lead, like a loaded gun. you feel it dissect you from afar, and can’t find it in you to reach for another pastry. 

”… would you have preferred being kicked out?”

”not at all.” a little grin plays at his lips, something in his voice betraying the face he’s making. ”are you avoiding the question?” 

another sigh. you’re painfully aware of how resigned it sounds, spilling out into the open air, already filling with a sense of dread — any leftover nostalgia bursting at the seams. you want to tell him so many things, but every thread inside your mind feels all tangled up.

and, as always, getō beats you to the punch. 

”that’s fine, too.” a brief pause, a twitch of his pinkie. he closes his eyes and inhales a breath. ”because i’ll keep waiting.”

for a second, you consider not taking the bait. 

then you’re giving in. because that’s what you always do, whenever he’s involved. you watch him in the dark, pale skin enveloped by moonlight, raven hair spilling across the headrest. he looks beautiful, like this, just resting his eyes.

”… for what?” you whisper, and his answer comes without a hitch to his breath.

”for you to love me again.”

…

getō tilts his head, opening his eyes, a golden brown dragging you into their depths. he looks expectant, selfishly awaiting a response, and you’re tired. 

(unbeknownst to you, he resists the urge to intertwine your fingers, to trace every ridge and dip of your knuckles with his thumb. to squeeze your palm like a promise, something concrete.)

when your mind has managed to untangle itself, something in your gaze turns sharp. frustrated, impatient, disappointed, looking at him with a raised brow. ”you really are stupid, aren’t you?”

as fast as it came, your gaze returns to the screen in front of you. monochrome, flickering, two beautiful men. one of them is holding a gun to the other’s temple, and the victim looks appeased. the movie’s almost over.

(how very like him, to find such violence beautiful.)

quietly, you swallow down the bile building up in the back of your throat. a decade of bitter flavours. clenching your teeth, nails digging into the couch beneath you, leather on your cold fingertips. it’s a little peeled.

you wonder why you even bother being honest, when he never quite seems to return the favour.

but the room is dimly lit, and the moon is big and bright, and your ex of ten years is sitting right next to you. in your apartment, on your couch, watching a movie on your tv. when he could, should be anywhere else. he’s with you, and he pulls the words out of your throat without trying. puppeteering your heartbeat.

”… as if i ever stopped.”

silence.

you hear a gunshot ring out. low, muffled, a crackle of static. one of the men falls down to the ground, and you can’t tell who's who. the actors are forgettable, but the soundtrack is pretty. it rings in your ears like a lullaby. 

getō says your name.

it sounds the same as you remember. honeyed syllables, spilling from his parted lips, silky and sweet. he says your name like he’s asking to marry you, and you can hear the smile he’s struggling to repress.

”will you look at me?”

it’s less of a question, and more of a demand. you wonder why he even bothers asking — but you’ve never really understood the way his brain works. never understood why a burglar would bother asking the shopkeeper for permission before reaching for the register, when they’ll be leaving with the money either way. 

and you’re paralyzed, stuck in place on the couch, gaze glued to the screen in front of you. but you aren’t watching, not really, just looking. and you don’t want to see what kind of face he’s making. so you whisper;

”.. no.”

”no?” he mimics, something like a coo on the tip of his tongue. as always, you can feel his gaze, travelling down your face like a trickle of honey. ”and why is that, my dear?”

you bite down on your lip.

a long, long moment passes, and neither of you say a word. he’s looking at you, and you’re looking down at your lap, at your clenched fists. a little meek. it’s quiet, the calm before the storm, and you know exactly what’s going to happen — it’s already set in stone.

”because you’re going to kiss me,” you exhale, finally, resignation on your breath. ”and i’m going to let you.”

…

for a second, you wonder if his silence means he understands. if he can hear the desperate plea in your voice, if he can translate it correctly. 

but his fingertips graze the lines of your jaw, his palm sneaks under your chin, and he keeps you in place. turning your head to meet his gaze, his amber eyes, dripping with something hungry; something pleading. 

this time, he doesn’t ask for permission. he leans forward until there’s no space between you, tips your head back, and kisses you with bated breath — as softly as he can manage, which is still too intense for your liking. still brimming with desperation, something carnal, like he wants to pour his everything into the kiss but knows he shouldn’t. he tastes like tobacco.

and it’s over. 

you know it is, because your senses are flooded with him, him, him. nothing but him, the strands of his raven hair ghosting your skin, his greedy tongue licking along your teeth, large palms resting on your spine and the back of your head. you’re pliant, surrendering yourself to his touch. he’s cradling you like he loves you, and you feel like you’ve done something awful, because you have.

because you’ve let him come so close, again, invited him inside — inside of your home, your ribcage. and he won’t bother making a home for himself there, because it’s already waiting for him, untouched, between your fourth and fifth ribs.

you never bothered to get rid of it.

(that’s your sin.)

getō hums, muffled by your lips. he sounds pleased. he sounds like he’s been waiting for this for decades, and you suppose that he has. he murmurs praise that you do nothing but swallow down. everything feels too perfect, too normal, and it’s too much, too much, too much. your lips pressed together, your chests pressed together, your noses meeting in a tender touch. you choke down the noise that threatens to push past your lips, and he kisses you like a starved man. like he’s trying to drown in you.

he only pulls away once he realizes that you’re crying, and by then it’s too late. his widening eyes don’t matter, your cold hands don’t matter, the tremble of your erratic heartbeat has never mattered less. he looks at you with remorse, and it doesn’t matter. 

(he’s yours, again. and you’re his.

you can’t stop crying.)

”… i’m sorry.”

in the background, you hear the sound of gentle whispers, an ending scene. the men are talking to each other, speaking softly, and your eyes burn with tears. geto catches one of them with his forefinger, and leans forward to plant a kiss against your nose. chaste, this time. still mumbling apologies.

it doesn’t matter, because a tiny sob still breaks past your throat — and you know the sound must hurt him. 

you hate that. you hate that you always hurt him, hate that you care, hate that you feel nothing but guilt when he’s around. you hate the movie still playing to your left, hate that he doesn’t hate it, hate that he loves you. hate that you love him, that you probably always will.

you hate that you blink up at him with glassy eyes, swallow down a shaky breath, and kiss him again. hate that it’s still the only thing you know how to do well.

he doesn’t pull away, only biting back a noise of surprise — but he makes sure to kiss you gently, as if you’re made of porcelain, slow and tender, cradling you closer still. he wipes away your tears with his thumb, one after another, and you hate yourself because everything feels so deliriously right.

somewhere in the back of your mind, you know that what you’re playing is a losing game. 

(he’s yours, and you’re his. it’s already set in stone.) 

[leclerced]

Heyyy hope you have a good day, i come bearing new thots

Credit where credit’s due, the idea is an old and deleted roger Taylor fic and not from me.

HOWEVER. Im now obsessed with this scenario with either lando or oscar (ill let you choose <3)

Roommate!AU !!!

Imagine you’re friends and roommates with lando or oscar and he has to study for his upcoming biology exam at uni. The topic? Female reproductive organs🤭

He just genuinely struggles with understanding the anatomy of a vagina and that picture in his damn book is absolutely not recognisable.

And since him and reader are friends and she doesn’t think thoughts all the way through she offers him to look at hers. I mean hes seen her shirtless a million times its nbd.

And staring at her beautiful pussy really does help him - to an extend. Hes so into his studies he doesn’t really process that he asked her „can i touch it??“ and she just goes along with it bc it’s already lowkey awkward and theres no turning back now.

She tries to not make it more awkward by suppressing her moans when his finger brush over her clit all while hes just identifying parts with his thoughts oblivious to what he does to her.

And she cant keep in the moan when he pushes his fingern in and suddenly he realises what hes doing. But he sneakily keeps going until she cums and hes trying his best to keep up the ignorant act bc shes js too hot like that😩

Got damn it i need a full length version of this fic again 😭

-🫀

i want to write a full length version omfg this is incredible!!! pictured oscar immediately. kinda set in like the early 2000s in my head bc i wanted to mention dvd rentals One Time and that's not a thing anymore but that's the world i grew up in LMAO

sorry i like got too into this at first and forgot i made plans to game with my friend and rushed the ending im sorry. added read more bc it's just over 1k <3 i think i like this a lot other than the ending idk . lmk what u think i hope it meets the expectations set by the original

reader thinks oscar's an innocent idiot but he just probably shouldn't be in medical school because while he can find the clit, he certainly doesn't know the name of it.

Her roommate has been staring at the same page for half an hour, they're seated on opposite ends of the couch, leaning against the arms and facing each other. She has a Stephen King novel leaned on her propped up knees and Oscar has an open textbook balanced on one thigh and a notebook open to a blank page on the other. After another frustrated sigh leaves him, she drops her book on the coffee table and leans over to see what he's looking at. She almost laughs when she sees the miniature sketch of a vagina, "You know, the DVD rental place down the street has rated X movies."

Oscar snorts, "I'm trying to work, leave me alone. I'm supposed to learn all the anatomical names of a vagina, but the only drawing I have is in this stupid book."

She leans in further to the diagram and hums, "That's a horrible diagram, no wonder you're getting nothing done. How old is that that textbook?" He shrugs and stretches back over the arm of the couch, "Probably like thirty, the professor wrote it himself and he's ancient."

Her eyes get pulled to his hips as he reaches behind his head and groans, his shirt lifting the slightest to reveal soft skin before he drops his arms back down. She licks her lips as she directs her gaze up to his face, "I could show you mine, if you want." The swift inhale Oscar makes is audible, he keeps his gaze locked on the books in his lap as he says, "Really?" Instead of verbally agreeing, she just scoots back to where she was leaning moments before on the arm of the couch and shimmies her shorts down before she can think twice. She giggles at the look on Oscar's face as she kicks the shorts off her ankles and he takes in the sight of her panties, lacy and red. "Are you sure?"

She shrugs and teases, "Well it's not like they have 3D models. I'm sure, I wouldn't have offered otherwise. Are you sure?" He nods slowly and she tugs her panties down her thighs and smirks at the blush that creeps up his cheeks as she drops them on his lap. She doesn't know where the sudden confidence has come from, but she feels no shame as she opens her legs to him. She drops one foot to the floor and the other lifts to rest on the back of the couch. Oscar holds her eye for a moment before she watches his gaze drift down her body and he starts to lean in before pausing, "Can I get closer?" She nods at his question and answers, "As close as you want." Oscar lurches forwards, knocking the forgotten textbook to the floor as he fumbles to grab his pen and notebook to take notes.

She can't read his chicken scratch handwriting, so whatever he's scrawling about her pussy is undecipherable to her as she watches him analyze her. She's trying not to think about how this could be weird, how it is weird to offer to let your roommate use you as an anatomy dummy. It's not really the first time. He's done other things, like when he needed to practice IVs so she let him give her a banana bag the next time she was hungover. She liked teasing him about it, calling him Doctor Piastri when she let him listen to her heart with his stethoscope. Or when she comes down with a cold and she calls him into her room to diagnose and treat her, and he brings her cold medicine and soup from the deli down the street.

She's pulled out of her thoughts when he clears his throat and she meets his eyes before she hums quizzically. The pink tint that had spattered his cheeks turns into a bright red as he asks, "Can I touch you?"

She almost thinks she didn't hear him correctly, but there's no way he could have said anything else, so she tries to joke, "So you're a hands on learner, then?"

Oscar quickly counters, "Yeah, do you mind?"

It's her turn to lose her breath as she stupidly nods and blushes as she takes in the realization that he's about to touch her pussy. In the name of science, she agrees, "No, go ahead." Then, his hand is on her pussy and his focus is entirely on the space between her legs as he spreads her lips apart and she has to close her eyes and force her mind to other places as he tilts his had interestedly. She wishes she could stop her body from reacting to his touch, but she can't. Not when he pulls back the hood of her clit, she hears him writing something, then there's a soft pressure on her clit and she has to bite the inside of her cheek to not react. She tells herself not to make any sounds so it won't be weird, he's just trying to study, he's not doing anything to her really.

She can feel the wetness build under his fingers as he slips them down to her entrance and back up. She hears Oscar mutter something but she can't make it out over the blood rushing through her head as he presses his fingers back against her clit. "Is this... The labia?" The laugh she lets out is half a moan, "That's the- clit. Labia are the lips." He dips his fingers down and pinches one lightly, "This?"

She's somehow endeared by the curiosity, and sighs, "Yeah. That. Minora. The outer one is majora."

Oscar lets out a little huff, "How do you know the names? You're not even taking anatomy." His fingers find her clit again, this time lightly pinching it, and her thighs tense as he mumbles, "Clit." She hears his pen scratching across his paper and then dips his finger down to her entrance and presses inside. She wonders what he's thinking as he slowly thrusts his finger in and out of her, his other hand still writing on the paper. It's not until he slips a second finger inside of her and curls them as he suddenly presses his thumb to her clit that she breaks her silence, a whimper falling from her lips as the unexpected pleasure hits her. She somehow doesn't realize then that this isn't his first time like she thought when she saw the surprised look on her face. Then she flutters her eyes open and immediately realizes it because he's already looking up at her, a cocky smirk playing on his lips. She gasps, "You- you didn't really need help, did you?"

He shrugs innocently, "I still don't know the names, could you remind me?" She can't tell if he's being serious or not as he quickens his thumb on her clit and she's saved from responding as he pushes up her body and presses his lips to hers hungrily.

[callahanisms]

tell me

instead of writing a fic, i settled on writing just a general collection of headcanons. these are gender neutral. and uh, i'm on a mission to convert my friend to the swann arlaud agenda.

anyways watch anatomy of a fall on a big screen. don't do what i did, which is just watch it on my laptop. movie is too good to be watched on a laptop. and also be a streaming service.

these are gender neutral, by the way.

part 02

character: vincent renzi (aka. hot lawyer from anatomy of a fall)

for vibes: "tell me" by fifty fifty

moving to france wasn't on your list of things to do when you were in your early teens. it was such a drastic move. but unfortunately, it made sense because your mother was a film scholar who specialized in french film and she got a job to teach at a prestigious university. it was an opportunity she had to take and you were brought along for the ride.

picking up french was not that hard. you learned in school and also picked it up from the films your mother watched. you remembered watching Cléo from 5 to 7 a lot. maybe you shouldn't have, considering its themes. being immersed in the environment helped you pick up on it quicker.

all to say, you were fluent by the time you reached university.

you don't remember which class you met him in. you just know you got put in a group together for introductions. typical first year stuff.

"vincent renzi."

he had a boyish charm to him. he looked younger than you, yet you were the same age. there was still some baby fat on his cheeks.

your smile was warm. "(y/n)."

he became one of your first friends.

university was a rough transition period. you left your old friends behind. you didn't like them that much anyways. they didn't seem to like you either. so, you essentially came into university without many friends.

it's a gradual friendship, one that arises from meeting up consistently and then those meetings evolving into hanging out for hours.

doing schoolwork while drinking coffee, reading in the library, going out for dinner. hell even cooking for each other. it was a solid friendship.

it helped that you guys also wandered in the same social circle. so you also had mutual friends, including german exchange student sandra voyter.

they always talked about how you two were together. always seen talking. always seen outside of class. even when you guys had so much work to do and you shouldn't be with him because you guys ended up distracted and procrastinating your papers.

"why do you still have this?" he asks.

it was your third year of university. your place was small cozy. and it was affordable with your two other roommates. you guys had gotten lucky with the rent.

"have what?" you don't look up from your laptop. you were nearly finished with your paper.

"this."

you look up. vincent's holding up a dvd box with a beat up cover sleeve. the colors were faded and the cardboard was bent all over, creating multiple webs.

"because it's mine?"

"it's all beat up. wouldn't it be better to transfer to a new box?" he shrugs.

"my mother gave it to me when i graduated. it's...niche, i guess." you think about how she gifted you her favorite movie and the movie she has written a whole book about.

"everyone knows Céline and Julie Go Boating."

"not in that sense. just in the sense that my mother has an interesting way to mourn me leaving the house." you still stayed with her when you went back. but graduating really proved that you weren't a kid anymore. "i really liked it when i was younger. because of the colors. the rest of the stuff did not register with me. according to her, i kept asking her to put it on."

"you must have had an interesting taste as a child."

"well...she specializes in this stuff. so i'm not surprised."

"you don't even have a tv."

"okay well, i have it for novelty sake."

your eyes return to your laptop screen. you don't notice the way vincent's eyes linger on you, watching the way your fingers intently move as you finish up your paper. or how you furrow your brows when rereading your sentence and realizing it makes no sense. or the gentle curse beneath your breath when you realize you've forgotten a word in your sentence. he's never heard someone curse so gently.

he sets the dvd back where he picked it up from, feeling the worn out cardboard.

it was your birthday. such a scary time, for it to come so soon.

originally, you thought it was going to be you, vincent, sandra, and some of your other friends. after all, vincent was good as organizing group events and outings.

when you showed up at your usual meeting spot, it was just him.

"are they going to meet us there?" you question.

"we'll meet them after." he smiles.

"what is going on in that brain of yours?"

"you'll see."

when he takes your hand, your heart flutters. you've held hands before. but never did it make you feel so...light. like a cloud. you weren't sure if you were imagining your cheeks heating up slightly.

vincent leads you to a nearby cinema. he buys two tickets for a limited showing of Céline and Julie Go Boating.

"this is so..." you can't help but let out a laugh, staring at the movie ticket.

"why not? get the full experience." his eyes are gentle. there's tenderness in his gaze. it makes you feel all warm and gooey on the inside.

"you know the movie is...over three hours long right?"

"of course. that's why i picked an earlier showing. so we can get to dinner on time later."

being in the dark with your friend for over three hours. watching a movie about two people who were coded to be lovers. what could go wrong?

nothing, really. in the eyes of someone else.

to you, and to him, everything.

you haven't seen the film in forever. so rewatching it was like watching it for the first time without being distracted by the colors.

vincent couldn't watch the movie. he was more interested in the way your face shifted, how you whispered about not remembering that happening, how you laughed and the way your lips curled so cutely.

in truth, he could care less about the movie.

you were his favorite film.

as céline and julie were in a soap opera, enacting a hetero-normative plot, you turn to look at vincent. you were wondering how your friend was holding up.

your eyes meet his and your lips can't help but curl into a smile.

"are you watching?"

"of course." his eyes flicker to the screen for a brief moment.

"or were you watching me?"

"your reactions are interesting. they tell me what i should be thinking of the film."

"i shouldn't be the one you judge this film on."

silence between you two. the kind of comfortable silence you two are used to. but something feels more different. perhaps because it was dark. perhaps because the world seemed to fall away and it was just the two of you and the film faded into the background.

you were oddly close to him. your shoulders were touching. and if you moved forward, your noses would be able to touch.

you shift closer, causing his breath to hitch. "thank you for this, by the way." when you whisper, it is a message only meant for him.

"happy birthday." he says. he moves his face closer, heart pounding.

you want to meet him in the middle. you want to feel his soft lips against your own. and yet, something grips you hard. it's stomach curdling.

you move forward, your lips on his cheek. his eyes widen and his shoulders slump a little. you pull away. "it's...nice. to have the bestest friend i know."

"that's not a word." sadness settles in his eyes.

"all words are made up. so i can make up new ones."

in the moment you felt unsure about not making a move. that regret comes to follow you in your life.

graduation came too soon. way too soon.

you had decided to leave france for a bit, go to grad school abroad. somewhere else where you could pursue an mfa in creative writing.

it was your last coffee before you guys would graduate, inevitably separating.

vincent said he wanted to tell you something. it was urgent, something important to him. you could tell he wanted to spit it out.

or did he want to vomit because he was nervous?

"stop leaving me in suspense!" you take a sip of your coffee. "what is it?"

should he tell you?

should he confess?

he wants to tell you. oh so desperately. and yet, he feels it would be selfish to.

it's not about if you didn't feel the same way. to vincent, being rejected is the better scenario.

he didn't want to keep you grounded in france, a place you were looking to leave because you have spent a decent chunk of your life here. moving was good for you.

he worried that if you felt the same way, then maybe you would reconsider going away. and if you were looking to leave forever, he didn't want to be the thing keeping you here.

i love you. i have for a while. let's go on a date.

thirteen words. three sentences.

it was so miniscule. but he felt like atlas, carrying the sky. he was carrying a whole world.

vincent wipes his palms against his jeans. his heart was stuck in his throat. and his brain acted first.

"i got accepted into law school."

"that's great! oh my god!" you nearly squeal for him.

your happiness for him was enough.

writing a hit debut novel is no easy feat. and yet, you did it. people loved your novel.

the novel centered on two friends. their platonic bond ends up in a weird limbo, where there's romantic tension but neither wants to act upon it in fear. ultimately, the two friends reunite years after they separated, on different career paths. they meet at a conference, sit at a bar, and the novel ends with them rekindling their relationship. you left it up to the reader to interpret that being romantic or platonic. or even if they never talked to each other again after that night.

you were on fire as an author. and your recent publication, a collection of short stories, had become particularly famous. especially on social media.

you decided to go back to france for a few months. you wanted to spend more time with your mother and catch up with your friends. all of them you haven't seen since university.

unfortunately it also didn't mean you were on vacation. you still had to work. and you had many book signings to attend to.

when you look up to see the next person, your heart nearly lurches out of your chest.

vincent aged like wine. he still looked like how he did in university. less baby fat. gray hair. some wrinkles. but you liked it.

his eyes meet yours and he walks over. "my favorite short story was the one about the cow farmer."

"that came from a dream i had as an undergraduate student." you open the book and sign the first page. "how are you?"

"good. good. how about you?" he smiles. he's so radiant. you're reminded why you missed him. and why you felt regret in your body from all those years ago.

"well, you already know about me." you gesture to the books. your books. "have you...met up with sandra recently?"

"on the rare occasion. she's been traveling a lot. but recently she moved here. with her husband."

"her husband...samuel?" vincent nods. "he's an interesting character. from the few times i met him."

"they seem to be doing alright." he takes the signed book and peeks at what you wrote. there's a heart next to his name.

"we should talk more. catch up."

"if you're free."

you think for a second. "can you come back in thirty minutes? i should be done by then."

vincent smiles. he leaves the bookstore.

he's waiting outside for you after those thirty minutes.

[mxltifxnd0m]

hotter than fire  ࿔ s. stilinski

summary: a heat wave has hit beacon hills and the pack spends a day at lydia's pool

pairings: stiles stilinski x reader, stiles stilinski x fem! reader

word count: 2.7K

warnings: no use of y/n, fluff, kissing/making out, one mention of sex

a/n: RAHH this fic took a little longer than anticipated bc writers block is a bitch and i had to rewrite the beginning bc i hated it :) but the title is a lyric from west coast by lana del rey!

please be sure to comment and reblog! it helps out a lot and i love seeing your thoughts on the fic!!

𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘴 𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘬𝘪 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵

The cool July night air brought little reprieve to your sticky skin as you sat on the edge of Lydia's pool, staring into the illuminated pool. You snuck out of the dark living room as the rest of the pack was watching a random movie that Lydia had on DVD, wanting to take a breather to yourself. As much as you loved hanging out with your friends, you wanted a little time to yourself since today was a little overstimulating. Living in the middle of Northern California wasn't any fun when a heat wave struck. 

The humidity made everything feel damp and made you want to crawl out of your skin. All you wanted to do was cease to exist when one of the worst heat waves hit Beacon Hills. Each time you went outside, it was like stepping into one of the circles of hell, and your only saving grace was the A/C that was on blast in your house. 

The last thing you wanted to deal with after the shitshow that was Beacon Hills' problem with the supernatural was the heat. But as fate would have it, the A/C in your house had broken in the morning. Your parents were on a business trip, so you were left home alone with no working A/C, and the only thing that was keeping you cool was the tile flooring of your kitchen and cold showers. 

Then Lydia, being your savior, invited everyone to a pool day. You had to ask if you could stay over with her for a few days until your parents came back and got someone to fix the A/C. Lydia asked her mom, and thankfully, she said yes. So when you arrived at her house, you had a duffle bag in one hand and some drinks in the other for the pool day. Since you were the first one at Lydia's house, you helped her get set up, like helping prep the snacks and making sure the inflatables that Lydia had in storage were blown up. 

The pack eventually showed up, and that's when the fun began for the six of you (Liam was busy, so he couldn't come to the pool day). You spent most of the day in and out of the water, but most of the time, you were in the cool water since you couldn't bear the heat. You had to force yourself to look away from Stiles at times because your eyes would always find him and study the freckles that covered the length of his back and some of his chest. Then, you would always catch Lydia giving you a knowing look and a sly smile as she sunbathed on one of the lounge chairs outside of the pool. But at different points in the day, you could have sworn you could feel a burning stare on you, but you never caught the culprit. 

As the sun fell, you guys eventually got out of the pool and rinsed off, either in the outdoor shower that Lydia had or in the bathrooms inside. You decided to take an actual shower since you couldn't stand the feel of chlorine lingering in your hair. Once you were done, you padded downstairs in some old boxers of your dad's and a plain blue baby tee that you would wear to sleep. You (heard) found the pack in the living room, crowded around the pizzas that you would later find out that Lydia's mom had ordered for the six of you.

The living room was filled with lively chatter as you guys ate, talking about the upcoming school year and complaining about the heat. A poll was going around about what movie you guys would watch as you finished the pizza. Once the movie was picked, you figured that popcorn wasn't going to be made by itself, so you volunteered to make it. As you got up, Stiles stood up along with you, and he sat across from you. 

You looked at him with a raised brow. 

He shrugged. "I figured you'll need help carrying the bags back." Stiles said as he wiped his hands on the back of his thighs. 

The creaking of the door that led to the backyard broke you out of your thoughts as you raised your head, resting on your knees from staring at the water, and turned your head to see Stiles sticking his head out of the door. His whiskey-colored eyes met yours as he made his way out of the house. You gave him a half smile, feeling your heartbeat pick up as he smiled back at you. 

You were grateful that he wasn't a werewolf or had enhanced hearing. You took in Stiles as he made his way over to you. He was wearing a red shirt and some black joggers he had changed into after the pool, and his hair was flat and sticking to his forehead since there wasn't any product in it. 

You untucked your knees from your chest and put your feet in the water. The cool water felt refreshing on your skin, the water coming up to your mid-calf. Stiles came to sit next to you, leaving only but a foot of space between the two of you, and he rolled his joggers to mirror you, putting his feet in the water. 

"Hi." Stiles greeted you as he turned to face you. 

You smiled at him as you looked at him. "Hey." 

He pursed his lips as he looked around for a brief moment and looked back at you. 

"So, uh. Nice weather we're having right?" 

You chuckled at his awkwardness. "Yeah, it is. If you minus the humidity, it's pretty alright." You said while nodding at him. 

A silence settled between you and Stiles. You leaned back on your hands as you let your head fall backward and looked up at the stars. They were out tonight, and they were scattered throughout the sky. Some weren't bright, and a few looked like they were planes, but the bright ones, they looked like they were twinkling. 

You let out a contented sigh. "The sky is pretty tonight." 

"Yeah," You heard Stiles clear his throat. "It is." He all but whispered, but you still heard him, even over the chirping of the crickets nearby. 

You felt the familiar burning stare you had felt earlier today as you swam, and you pulled your eyes away from the sky to find Stiles looking at you intently. As your eyes met his, Stiles seemed to snap out of his daze and averted his eyes back toward the water. You smirked to yourself as you sat back up. 

Suddenly, confidence filled your veins when you shuffled to sit closer to Stiles, your shoulders brushing against each other as you leaned forward and tried to catch Stiles's gaze, but it seemed that he was avoiding your eyes. You saw a faint red hue against his sun-kissed cheeks, his moles and freckles scattered throughout his face and neck as the glow from the pool light that illuminated his features. 

"Stiles." You called out to him. 

He looked at you slowly, his eyes timid as he licked his bottom lip nervously. Your eyes flickered down to his lips at his actions before they quickly snapped back to his eyes. 

"Were you staring at me instead of the sky?" You couldn't help but say with a teasing smirk dancing on your lips. 

You can see Stiles get visibly more flustered, the faint blush on his cheeks now spreading to his ears and neck. 

"Wh-what? Pff no." Stiles tried to deny it, but he wasn't convinced of himself either. 

You couldn't help but giggle and lean towards him. "If it makes you feel better, I liked that you were looking at me." 

Stiles's eyes widened slightly as he looked at you in disbelief. "Really?" He asked dumbly. 

"Mhm." You bit your bottom lip as you tried to contain the wide grin that threatened to appear on your face as you nodded at him. You noticed his eyes were blown out as they flitted down your lips before meeting your eyes. 

"Do you want to kiss me Stiles?" You asked boldly. 

It seemed that your question short-circuited him. "Huh?" Was the only thing he could respond with.

You huffed out a laugh through your nose. "I asked you if you wanted to kiss me." You said as you leaned even more toward him. At this point, your noses were touching, and your lips threatened to brush against his. 

You saw Stiles swallow thickly before nodding.

"Words, Stiles. I need words." You whispered. 

"I want to kiss you so badly." Stiles let the words fall out of his mouth, not even bothering to filter his words. 

You smirked as you brushed your lips against his before pulling back slightly. "You're gonna have to catch me first." You said before pulling back entirely from him and getting up from your place on the edge of the pool, the water sloshing around from the sudden movement. 

You laughed at the dumbfounded look on his face as you started to run through Lydia's big backyard. It seemed that the water lapping at Stiles's leg and your laugh broke him out of his stupor, and he immediately jumped into action. He quickly got up from his position and saw that you were on the opposite side of the pool from him, with a grin on your face. 

Stiles couldn't help but start smiling at your infectious smile and darted to the right, trying to get to you as fast as he could. You swiftly went in the opposite direction; now, this was the start of the cat-and-mouse game between the two of you. You ran in circles around the pool a couple of times, hiding behind the pillars that surrounded the pool if Stiles managed to get on the same side you were on, but you were slowly getting tired, so you decided when you were on the shorter end of the pool, you ran towards the doors. 

But before you could even make it to the steps of the awning that led to the doors of the backyard, you had forgotten that Stiles was taller than you and had a longer stride, so you squealed when you felt him grab your waist from behind and hoisted you in the air in his arms. He spun you guys around, Stiles and your joyous laughter filling the quiet night with a certain warmth and affection that could be only found in lovestruck teens. 

Stiles eventually stopped spinning and set you down, your back facing the pool as you guys were near the edge of it. His grip on you wasn't tight, but his hands never fell from your hips as you spun around and wrapped your arms around his shoulders. The both of you had identical breathless smiles on your faces as Stiles rested his forehead against yours. One of your hands moved to rest on the nape of his neck and played with the short hairs there as you stared at Stiles. 

His usual whiskey-colored eyes were blown out, and he only saw a sliver of his eye color. 

"I caught you." Stiles said as he calmed down, his chest heaving slightly. 

You smiled. "You did."

"Can I kiss you?" Stiles asked with a whisper. 

Instead of responding, you tilted your head and placed your lips on his. The kiss was hesitant, testing the waters as you felt the softness of Stiles's lips. It was short, but it still filled your veins with warmth as he pulled back from it. You opened your eyes, a soft smile on your lips. Stiles's eyes were filled with desire and something else, but you couldn't tell because he had all but slammed his lips against yours, pulling you into a passionate kiss. 

Stiles pulled you closer to him as one of his hands began to move and rest on your waist, the other moving higher to cup your cheek as he swiped at your bottom lip with his tongue. You couldn't help but let a soft noise leave the back of your throat as you tasted the salt and butter from the popcorn he was eating earlier as his tongue explored your mouth. You unconsciously tugged at Stiles's hair, making him groan loudly, sending a vibration through you and down to your core, feeling the warmth beginning to grow in your belly. 

Neither of you noticed, but Stiles was pushing the two of you backward, and before you knew it, the cold water of the pool enveloped the two of you. The two of you broke away from each other and quickly swam to the surface of the pool. Once you wiped the water from your eyes, you looked at Stiles with wide eyes before you started to chuckle. Then your chuckle turned into a full-blown laughing fit. Then you heard Stiles begin to join you in your hysterical laughter. 

Once you calmed down, you swam a short distance towards Stiles and wrapped your arms around his shoulders once again. He grabbed your waist before his hands slid down to your thighs and maneuvered you to wrap your legs around his waist. 

Both of you were still smiling widely at each other. You leaned down slightly to place your lips on Stiles's again. The change in scenery didn't stop you at all from kissing Stiles. You knew once you had kissed Stiles, it would be impossible to stop. You guys traded kisses ranging from passionate to slow ones as Stiles waded in the water. You guys lost yourselves in each other, time ceasing to exist as you ran your hands through Stiles's wet hair and Stiles's hands gripping your thighs firmly. 

Eventually, when you broke away for air, a slight breeze blew through the air, and a shiver racked your body. 

Stiles frowned. "We should probably get out before someone catches us making out in Lydia's pool." He joked slightly as he started to move you guys to the shallow end. 

"Too late!" You heard Lydia's voice echo throughout the backyard. 

The two of you both jumped, and your heads snapped to see Lydia standing a little ways away from the pool with her arms crossed and a smug smile on her face. You quickly escaped from Stiles's grip as the two of you got out of the pool. You both looked at her sheepishly. 

Lydia tossed you two spare towels that were on the lounge chair nearby. "Glad you two finally figured it out. But if you're staying over Stiles, keep the noise to a minimum please." She said before heading back inside. 

You saw out of the corner of your eye that Stiles rolled his eyes at Lydia but began drying off. You couldn't help but let out a little chuckle, making his head jerk towards you. 

"Something funny?" Stiles asked as he dried his hair with the towel. 

"Nope." You said as you toweled off as best as you could. 

Stiles wrapped his towel around his neck and took a step towards you. At this point, you weren't dripping wet, but your clothes still clung to you. His eyes roamed up and down your body, as he used his index finger to make you look at him. You could see the lust fill his eyes, and you placed a hand on his chest before he could take another step. 

"Down, boy." You said jokingly. "We'll have time for that later, besides I don't want to have sex in Lydia's house of all places." 

Stiles started to sputter. "Wh-what! What makes you think I wanted to have sex with you? No! I meant I do, but like-" 

You quickly silenced his ramblings with a quick kiss before pulling back. "I got it Stiles. Again, we'll have time for that later." You said before sending him a reassuring smile. 

Stiles nodded sharply. "Right, right. It'll happen. Wait. Does that mean that we're together now?" 

An amused chuckle left your lips. "Yeah, I hope so." 

"Then we are." Stiles said with a goofy smile on his face, clearly elated at the notion of the two of you being together. 

"Okay then boyfriend, let's get inside because I'm in desperate need of changing out of these wet clothes." 

"Okay, let's go girlfriend." 

[ambiguouslady42]

Remember Summer Days

I wrote my first fanfic. This will be reminiscent a tad to my own teen years. I'm playing with it and seeing if I can make it into a small series.

Synopsis: A hopeless teen girl has a meet-cute with the ever, handsome Satoru Gojo.

Note: This will mostly be intense fluff. I wrote this for me, but if you would like to leave feedback or notes, you can always DM me.

If you're a minor or an ageless blog, I will block you. No questions asked.

______________________________________________________________

2007

You were an awkward 16-year-old. You look back at this period and wonder how you did so little and so much. Concert ticket stubs, movie stubs, CD’s, posters. You certainly had many adventures, but you were a homebody who loved to daydream. You daydreamed of the day you would meet someone that you knew would change your life; the day came. It was the summer of 2007. His name was Satoru Gojo.

You were just cruising by high school at this time in your life. You were ambitious to pursue any career path from a politician, teacher, or a librarian. You were involved with a bunch of clubs because you were friends were involved in them. Your excited demeanour about making change and sharing ideas sometimes caught up with you; at times, you were the center of such critiques like “They’re so annoying, why do they even bother to come?” or “Is there any way that we could ditch them during this event”. 

Socializing at times was very difficult at school. At best, you had one friend, and even at times, you felt that you couldn’t really interact with a lot of your classmates. Your interests differed from that of everyone else.  Nobody has seen the movies that you have seen. Music? Most of the student populous didn’t listen to bands you listen to like Interpol, The Smiths, or The Strokes. If they did, well they weren’t part of your social circle. Your interests made you feel like an outsider. 

On the days you felt the most uncomfortable for speaking up or wanting to crawl into yourself, you would ride the rail line to head over to your favourite record store. It was a two-story building. It had everything you could possibly want. Vinyl, CD’S, cassettes, and the best part: movies. You felt a comfort in knowing that this store had everything that anyone could be searching for, if they knew where to look.

On this particular day you were looking at French films, particularly Amélie. Your best friend shared that it made an impact on her. You were talking to her on MSN Messenger during the weekend and discussed 

movies. 

[Mariella]: I just watched Amélie this last week. It’s soo cute.

[You]: What’s it about?

[Mariella]: It’s about a girl who is destined to help others, but along the way, she falls in love with her soulmate.

[Mariella]: Nino Quincampoix <333

You figured today was a great day to build your movie collection. As you were about to grab the DVD box, you noticed a tall figure across from you. You were standing right across from him. He had the flare of cool that you know you stood no chance in. What stood out to you the most was his white hair and round sunglasses. You thought to yourself “Of course they would wear sunglasses indoors. Wonder what their eyes look like.” You continued to stare.

He caught you staring. You wanted to shrivel up into a ball. You began to sweat. Suddenly he started to move towards you. You saw him circling through the aisle of DVD’s and then he was standing next to you. 

“Hi…” he said.

“Oh…hello”, you said back.

You could feel your face getting hot, but he still didn’t move away from you.  The first thing you notice is the DVD’s that he’s holding. You recognize a couple of 80’s movies You notice Gremlins, Ferris Bueller’s Day Off, and Back to the Future.

“That’s quite a collection you have there”, you said. 

“Oh, these? I just thought I’d finally be able to grab these classics. Have you ever seen any of these?” he says.

At this point, you’re getting pretty comfortable. With a sly smile on your face: “Of course I have. Who has not seen any of these movies?” 

He gives you a confident smile: “Well then, tell me about Ferris Bueller’s Day Off”.

  “Well first of all, hi. I’m Isabel”

“Nice to meet you, Isabel. I’m Satoru". 

[roryculkinluvr]

heyo :3 just wondering if you could write about charlie walker having a massive crush on reader, making him all shy and flustered. then reader and charlie get partnered up in a class project so they have to study together- charlie ends up confessing and it ends in some sub!charlie smut? ty if you do this, love ur writing c:

𝐏𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐄 𝐏𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐄 𝐏𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐄 ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

➸ 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: sub!virgin!charlie walker x fem!virgin!reader

➸ 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: smut, sexual themes, pet names (baby, good boy, angel, etc), p in v, loss of virginity, protected sex, oral (fem received), cum eating, charlie sucks on readers tits, slight mommy kink, dirty talk.

➸ 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒: i’m sorry this took me so long to write, it’s much longer than i meant it to be but i hope you enjoy!

charlie had always had crush on you, since freshman year to be exact. the first time he saw you, he became completely and utterly infatuated with you.

senior year was the first time charlie made a move. he took the opportunity when the two of you were in english class, your teacher paired you with charlie for an assignment. a smirk spread across charlie’s mouth as your name left the teachers mouth after his own. his you watched his cheeks turn bright pink when you flashed him a quick smile then turned back to the chalkboard.

once the bell rang, you waited for charlie to pack up so that you two could discuss the project. “hey charlie?”

his gaze shifted from his backpack to you. “hmm?” he hummed with a nod.

“i know it’s a friday, but if you’re not doing anything, we could get together tonight and get started.” you suggested. he began walking towards you, the corners of his mouth turning up as he eyed the dress you wore.

“yeah for sure, do you um… would you wanna come to my house?” he asked, stumbling over his words. you found it endearing that he got nervous around you.

“i’d love that, can i come at six?” you questioned. charlie followed beside you as you left the classroom, entering the hallway.

“yeah, i’ll text you my address.” he responded. charlie was trying so hard to sound ‘nonchalant’.

“perfect. i’ll see you then.” you beamed, turning around to go to your next class.

“see you then.” he echoed. charlie watched as you walked to walked away, shaking his head with a smirk on his face.

at six, you rang charlie’s doorbell, he opened the door and gave you a half smile. he analyzed every inch of your body, you wore the same sleeveless dress that drove him insane earlier that day. it was casual yet sexy, short but modest and a light jacket was covering your arms, hiding your bare skin. “hi charlie.”

“hi” he said in a breathy voice, butterflies swarmed in his stomach. “come in.” you stepped inside as he shut the door behind you.

although you had known charlie for four years, this was your first time in his house. you scanned the walls that were cloaked with old family photos and art work. you could feel charlie’s eyes on you as you admired his parents’ taste in art.

“you know it’s rude to stare charlie.” you teased. he let out a nervous laugh.

“my fault, you just look nice is all.” he couldn’t look into your eyes.

“thank you charlie, that’s so sweet.” you turned back to a picture of charlie and his mother when he was around six or seven.

whilst examining the interior of charlie’s home, you realized how quiet it was. “are your parents home?” you wondered.

he shook his head. “no they’re out of town til monday.” he explained as he led you to the downstairs living room.

it was spacious and nicely furnished, what really caught your eye was the bookcase beside the tv. it was overflowing with endless DVDs. “do you just have every movie?” you joked as your finger ran along one of the shelves. you were honestly impressed, it seemed as charlie owned every film you could name.

your comment was met with short laugh. “basically.” he responded. charlie sat down on his large couch, placing his school bag on the coffee table. you did the same before removing your jacket, resting it beside you.

charlie couldn’t help but notice how close you sat to him, especially given the amount of space you could’ve occupied. the bare skin that poked out of his t-shirt brushing yours made goosebumps paint his skin.

charlie fixed his gaze on you as you pulled a pencil and paper out of your bag. “so, i was actually thinking we could do something film related for our project. we pretty much have free reign over the research topic. so, maybe like comparing certain aspects of a specific movie to it’s book?” charlie proposed. he studied your expressions closely, desperately hoping you didn’t think his idea was stupid.

“that’s perfect.” you responded. you and charlie began to jot down your ideas stemming from charlie’s suggestion.

you both worked on the project for hours, taking quick glaces at each other and looking away anytime one of you thought the other was about to look up. it was half pass nine when you realized how much time had gone by. “oh shit.” you mumbled after checking your watch. charlie looked at you with furrowed eyebrows, confused with your distresss. “it’s almost ten, i’m sorry for keeping you working this late.”

“i didn’t mind at all” he put down his pencil and looked up, into your eyes. “i was actually thinking you could maybe stay a little longer.” he offered.

“oh?“ you tried your best to hide the grin that was forming on your face.

“yeah, i like this.” you gave him a puzzled look. “like i mean i like you.” he explained. you smiled at him, this calmed his anxiety flooded brain. “i have for a while.”

“me too.” you revealed. you watched charlie’s eyes brighten as you said this.

he stared at your lips hesitantly, failing to make eye contact. as charlie leaned in closer, so did you. the pace of his heartbeat was so rapid that you could almost hear it. you parted your lips slightly and charlie met them for a kiss. but, he pulled away almost instantly. charlie was still so close that you could feel his heavy, nervous breath on your mouth. “was that okay?” he asked softly.

without answering, you cupped the side of his face and pressed your lips against his. charlie couldn’t explain it, but he felt warm all over. as the boy became more comfortable, he placed one hand on your leg, the other on your waist. he broke the kiss again, “you have no idea how long i’ve wanted this.” he panted. you pecked his lips quickly.

“why don’t you tell me how long char?” you purred.

“ninth grade, been wanting to kiss you since i met you.” he admitted. you beamed at him before exploring his lips again, tilting your head to deepen the kiss. this made charlie hum into your mouth, his lips became sloppy and needy against yours.

“want you so bad” he breathed, between kisses.

“yeah? what do you want me to do?” you teased. your fingers played with his hair, making his cheeks turn bright pink.

“anything… anything you want.” he stammered. when charlie said anything, he meant it. he would’ve done anything and everything you asked him to. he was all yours.

“i want you to tell me what you want charlie.” you insisted.

“i want you to fuck me” he mumbled. his eyes focused on his hands, too flustered to meet your eyes.

“hm? couldn’t hear you.” you teased.

“i said, i want you to fuck me… please.” he repeated, the plead sounded desperate, almost whiny.

“yeah? have you ever done that before?” you questioned.

he shook his head, embarrassment displayed on his face. “no, have you?” he responded.

“no.” you answered. charlie was suprised by this. he didn’t think you were a slut or anything of the sort, he just couldn’t believe that he has a chance to be your first and to have you as his.

he put his hand over yours. “we don’t have to if you don’t want to.” he spoke to you so gently.

“i want to charlie.” you assured him. “are you sure you want to?” he nodded his head eagerly.

“i’m definitely sure.” with that, you kissed him again, charlie kissed back so passionately, your tongues lapping.

“then take me to your room char.” you directed. charlie led you to his room which was conveniently, also downstairs.

his room was surprisingly tidy for an eighteen year old boy. the bed was neatly made, there were no clothes scattered on the floor (yet) and everything seemed as it had its own place. the walls were covered in film and music posters.

charlie sat on his bed, his back against his headboard. you walked over to him straddling his lap, feeling him grow harder under you. he brought his large hands to your waist and you attached your lips to his neck, tracing sloppy kisses down it.

charlie took one hand to your shoulder, toying with the strap of your dress. “can i take this off, please?” he asked.

you removed your lips from his hickey stained collarbone to look at him. “only because you asked so nicely.” you joked. charlie pulled your dress down, it sat at your hips. under your dress you wore a baby pink lace bra.

“you’re so perfect.” he slammed his lips against yours before removing his shirt.

you traced charlie’s abs with your finger. “you know, you can take my bra off if you want.” his breath hitched just from those words.

charlie fumbled with the clasp of you bra, you tossed it aside. he sharply inhaled. charlie’s brain went fuzzy from the sight of you boobs. “fuck…” he sighed.

“you wanna touch them?” you teased. charlie nodded instantly.

“go ahead charlie.” he kneaded one of your tits, bringing his mouth to the other. he hummed in pleasure while he sucking on it. charlie flicked your hard nipple with his tongue, he could’ve came in his pants from just this.

“i need you, i’ll be so good for you. you have no idea how bad i need you.” charlie whined.

“want me to fuck you so bad hm?” you taunted.

“please.” he groaned before leaving a soft peck on your boob.

“please what?” you teased. charlie felt so pathetic (but he loved it).

“please fuck me.” he said in a high pitched whine.

“such a good boy” charlie whimpered at your praise. you moved off of him, pulling your dress down entirely along with the shorts underneath. he removed his pants, you could see his painfully hard cock through his boxers.

you laid on his bed, propping yourself up on your elbows. charlie sat beside you, rummaging in his nightstand for a condom. once he found one, he removed his boxers and rolled it over his dick. the sight of his tip leaking with pre cum somehow made you even more wet then you already were.

charlie moved on top of you. he wanted so bad to taste you or make you feel good first, but he was so needy. you brought your hand to his cock, pumping it a few times. “m’so wet charlie, bet you want.”

“gonna make you feel good, i promise.” he said before lowering himself into you slowly, making sure not to hurt you.

you hissed at the new sensation. “does that feel okay? i don’t want to hurt you.” he panicked.

“feels so good, just needed a second. you can move now.” you answered. charlie kissed you before thrusting into you, he rested his head in the crook of your neck, whispering compliments into your ear.

“you’re so beautiful.” “you’re so good to me.” “feels better than i ever thought.”

his pace was slow, he needed more. “can i go faster?” he breathed.

“say please.” you kidded.

“please, please let me go faster please. i need it so bad.” he begged into your ear. you bit you lip.

“so needy for me char, yeah you can baby.” calling him that name alone forced a drawn out moan out of his mouth.

charlie move so that he was looking at you, placing his hands around your waist as he began pumping in and out of you faster than before. “mmm fuck! feels so good, you can go even faster if you want.” you cooed. charlie’s eyes widened at your words.

“m’so close.” he sobbed, watching your tits bounce as he pushed into you so quickly.

“not yet char, can you be a good boy for me and hold it?”

“yes.” he nodded.

“then say it.” you demanded.

“sa-say what?” he babbled. his eyebrows furrowed, charlie could barely form thoughts overwhelmed with pleasure.

“say you’ll be a good boy for me.”

“ahhh! fuck! i’ll be a good boy for you baby.” he groaned. he pumped into you rapidly, his skin slapping against yours. the room filled with both of your loud moans.

you felt charlie’s dick twitch inside you a few times, before his cum spilt out into the condom. his breath was incredibly shaky as high pitched whimpers left his lips. “don’t wanna stop, m’gonna make you cum too mommy.” charlie told you.

“such a good boy. m’so close, fuck!” you moaned. “gonna cum soon.”

“can, ahh! can i taste it? please?” charlie pleaded. “always thought about what you would taste like.”

“yes charlie, fuck!” charlie removed his cock from your dripping wet pussy, laying down in front of it. his mouth met your cunt, swirling his tongue on your clit.

“just like that char, feels so fucking good.” you cried as your hips bucked into charlie’s face whist you tugged on his hair. charlie sucked, kissed and licked at your sensitive pussy. “i’m gonna cum now char!”

you felt the built up tension break as you came into charlie’s mouth, he licked up every last drop of it hungrily. “you taste so, so good mommy.” he cooed.

“come here.” he quickly laid beside you, turning to face you.

“was, was i good?” charlie asked, out of breath.

“charlie, you were perfect. you’re my good boy.” you praised, stroking the side of his face.

“mmm thank you angel, only your good boy.” he told you.

“how was that your first time?” you were so shocked that charlie could make you feel that good, given that he was a virgin.

“i’ve thought about this a lot, about us.” he replied.

“me too char, all the time.”

“do you want to spend the night?” you grinned at his question. “my parents aren’t going to be home for a couple days.” he reminded you.

“of course i do.” you chimed.

charlie gave you a kiss, “perfect, let me get us cleaned up.”

[solar-sunnyside-up]

hey! sorry to bother you, but is there anything a teen without transportation in a rural area can do on their own? im pretty isolated, and theres barely anything around me.

Hey ya sprout 🌱

**A disclaimer Punk comes with some risk socially. Particularly if your in a rural area this risk goes up bc people Know You and also typically these spaces have a different vibe to alt ppl in general. Some activities are more or less risky and I'll try and do my best to give you a range of stuff from the whole spectrum! Of course this is a generalization of rural areas. Some palaces will be more cool then others depending in so many factors I couldn't go into here**

Rural solarpunk

Your gunna been to pick a topic, sorry babe. In order to not burn yourself out and in order to feel like you have an impact your gunna have to pick a cause to chip away at but I'll give you ideas! And remember just bc your focusing on one thing doesn't mean your ignoring or not helping others. Everything is interconnected and any help, helps all!

So let's give you some ideas to focus on:

Libraries- as a teen in particular you'll have access to a library at school, but depending on how big your town is you might have a public one as well. Become their biggest supporter! They are a great safe space, even conservative ones are still a good place to go for archiving/loitering purposes. They give you spaces to print stuff, to build clubs and community.

Archiving- if you cannot leave your house due to access you can always do stuff online and hear me out, i know when we do stuff online it feels like half points. Like we arent doing anything. I feel that with this blog, it feels so passive no matter how hard you work youll feel lesser. But Archiving is vital to humans! Think of the anthropologists wholl thank you down the road! Plus it does actually give you a way to have a physical representative of work your doing. Dvds, pirating media and archiving them to drives, collecting vinyls/tapes/cds!

DIY- To fight against fast fashion (although that barely exists in the towns I've been in tbh) and to stick out** you could make your own patches, battlejackets, gloves, etc.. They are statement pieces you can wear whenever your in town/at school/social spaces that ppl know what you stand for and who you are. Depending on who/where you are this might be risky so take what you can bare ok? You don't have to wear these items too you can just make them for later on!

Little libraries/little pantries- in a rural space you have more Gruella tactics you can take if you do them in random abandoned spaces. You could build a waterproof little pantry and stock it and leave info somewhere about it for ppl to drop off/pick up items. Stock it with mittens! With canned goods! With books! You might be able to do a space like this at school/library depending in how cool your town is too!

Zines- You could look into making a zine and even if it's digital you could have the QR code for download in places (stickers on lamp posts, flyers in school bathrooms, hidden in a churches pamphlet stacks >.>) making a zine is a cool task that is time consuming and informative and fun!

Vandalism- like I said you can often print off stuff at Libraries, or usually you can find a place to print stuff off near or at post offices depending on how modern your rural space is. if you have your own printer this will reduce your risk by quite a bit though! Create/find stickers or posters you want to toss across town or even school. I'd recommend starting off with some stickers and see how their handled, dipping your toes is important with these kinda things. If your really feeling it, and you know some abandoned places Moss Graffiti is also a good option! I've know ppl who have converted old abandoned stored to skate parks (I honestly have no idea how they built the ramps out of concrete but damn!! Good job guys!)

Also I'll leave you with 2 book recommendations as well-

Moxie - a RIOT GRRRL story about a girl who gets so fed up with her conservative town she makes a feminist zine and distributes it via girl bathrooms (even having a basically me too stickers and encouraging ppl to put it on boys lockers who have assaulted them). I know there's a movie, didn't seem to capture the same vibe tho so book!

Braiding Sweetgrass - this focuses a lot on reconnecting and adding story to nature around us and having science along side spirituality

[lexirosewrites]

Yes I'm 26 years old, yes my friends r coming over tomorrow for a sleep over as part of a goodbye weekend because I'm moving across the country very soon & yes I'm dealing with all the emotions by thinking abt omegaverse & of course it means I'm thinking abt stranger things as well

Thinking abt a modern AU for omegaverse specifically one where alpha Eddie owns the LOTR movies on DVD & Blu-ray DVD, he hosts a semi-annual LOTR movie marathon tht only gets rescheduled never canceled bc one time a marathon coincided with Jeff's rut & when he tried to insist they watch without him CC all agreed to reschedule bc it just isn't the same without them all there

so there's born a sacred tradition of the CC boys watching the extended cut LOTR movies on a yearly basis, this is their Superbowl essentially

Well then Dustin, Mike, Lucas, & Will join their circle as high school freshman & they prove themselves in Hellfire so they're invited to the marathon except they all know it won't b very comfortable at the trailer because of limited space

Cue Dustin, Lucas, & Will getting omega Steve Harrington their babysitter extraordinaire to agree to host the LOTR movie marathon bc the 4 of them recently helped Steve read the LOTR books because he enjoyed The Hobbit a lot & he's never seen the movies because he knew they'd require book knowledge he didn't have

Well, the day the marathon happens to fall on is also coincidentally a few days before Steve's heat & I'm a big proponent of the idea tht the omegaverse body prepares for a heat in the way tht uterus having bodies prepare for a period with some key differences

Let's start w the similarities: flu like experience of minor aches, sometimes there's nausea abt certain foods (I for example for years from the age i first got my period to the age of 23 couldnt even look at an egg in its shell when I was nearing or on my period bc they made me nauseous) sometimes there's cravings to satisfy, mood swings more noticeably happen, a gradual increase in libido, & I don't think it'd b unusual for Steve to struggle w sleep in the days leading up to his heat

Differences: the libido increase doesn't fade once the heat begins obviously it only increases as the heat approaches, cramps r concentrated to the lower abdomen & pelvic regions, the body builds up noticeable fat stores (this is different from the bloating uterus owners experience in tht it isn't water weight & yes I'm inspired by tht fic u wrote where Steve gets self conscious before his heat bc he gains weight everytime) & the body temperature also gradually increases as the heat approaches (rapidly getting hotter in a number of hours before the first wave of biologically demanded horniness hits) so tht it isn't unusual to see an omega in the days before their heat wearing more breathable & comfy clothes because also an omegas sensory input changes to where their skin is very sensitive to certain fabrics (Steve for example invests in a wardrobe tht is majority cotton with a favorite silk night dress he wears to bed as his heat approaches)

ANYWAY I DIGRESS

So the CC boys can't believe they're having their annual nerdy marathon in rich kid neighborhood Loch Nora with the quintessential rich kid of Hawkins who was also the swim team captain & cheer captain

who turns out to b an absolute sweetie who's spent multiple days preparing for their marathon with a full menu of Middle Earth inspired dishes tht he's themed & scheduled to follow the Hobbit mealtimes, something Eddie has always wanted to do but didn't have the skills or resources for

So the day arrives & CC arrive before Dustin, Mike, Lucas, & Will to find Steve making the final preparations for the day of intensely timed cooking he has ahead of him & they're all good boys raised properly by their guardians so they immediately jump into helping Steve cook throughout the day while Mike & Dustin goof off & complain because while they're good boys they're also raised by parents tht do pretty much everything for them so they don't rlly understand the amount of work tht goes into a day full of eating

Lucas & Will understand tho so they help out where they can because they were taught a few cooking skills by their parents

Lucas was taught by his dad & mom because they emphasized the way to the heart is thru the stomach & so he is 100% doing it because as an alpha he likes the feeling he gets when he sees someone enjoy his food especially when tht person is one of his girlfriends Max or Jane (I'm a big proponent of Elumax where Lucas is the straight ally boyfriend they bring to pride to piss off ppl who spend too much time online) because neither had a very normal relationship w food when he met them, Max was stubborn abt needing to eat 3 square meals a day & Jane had been barely fed & was denied food as a form of punishment before she was taken in by her foster-turned-adopted dad Chief Jim Hopper (who isn't much of a cook evidenced by the fact Steve came over to cook for them twice a week & once lucas started dating Jane & Max he came over every saturday to cook for them bringing Max along so Jim could spend time getting know both of the alphas dating his omega daughter)

Will was taught his most used cooking skills by his dad ironically & because of this he has a complicated relationship w cooking because it was the one activity where his usually impatient & honestly kinda abusive father would b patient & understanding & encouraging to him but tht would go down the drain whenever he'd act a bit too much "like an omega" for a beta boy (in my heart of hearts will grows up with disphoria because he sees himself as an omega in the omegaverse but was born into a beta boys body)

The day goes off without a hitch & everyone has a lot of fun & they all settle into the living room to sleep once the final credit of the final movie has scrolled to the top of the screen & Steve goes to bed in his nest after sleepily scenting the pups & saying goodnight to the CC boys

Everyone sleeps very well & Jeff finds himself the first to wake up the next morning & initially he has no idea why he's awake because usually he'll sleep as long as Gareth is prone to after one of their movie marathons then he smells it: something sweet & tantalizing to his nose

He thinks it's coming from the kitchen only to bypass it entirely to stand at the bottom of the stairs, he puts 2 & 2 together & wakes everyone up to get them out of there & calls alpha robin (me writing a slick sunday ask w alpha robin? More likely then u think) to come help

Because somehow, someway, the CC boys triggered Steve's heat to arrive days early

no notes😚👌

[featguler]

breaking the status quo ────── a private confession under bernabéu lights.

⌗ pairing : rodrygo goes x reader ⌗ tags : reader's gender, ethnicity, nationality, and appearance is not specified. confessions!! fluff. not proofread!!! 5.28 am here and i do not care! ⌗ wordcount : 1,262 ⌗ notes : haven't written for rodrygo in so long... wrote the lyrics to the song on the banner & changing up the header format hehe... trying something new,,,, what do we think? title and the fic is mostly based on taylor swift's the very first night!! ♡ masterlist.

Rodrygo did not think that he was close enough to the stands when he scanned the crowd to find you cheering after his goal, mouthing an obvious but short “I love you” that was cut by Vinícius jumping on his back.

Rodrygo did not think that he was close enough, and you know this because you the Real Madrid jersey you have on your back does not have his name nor his number embroidered on it; you know this because you still take the train home rather than hopping on the passenger seat of his car; you know this because the farthest you have gone in your relationship is drink each other’s wine, scrunching up your noses in vile judgement.

Which is funny, because Camavinga, just before today’s match, joked to you about how bad the Spanish wine is compared to what he has back home, citing Rodrygo as another non-Spanish person who hates the syrup-like texture to the bottle of wine they serve in most fancy restaurants in Madrid.

You and him come in a pair, the whole team thinks. When Bellingham wanted to return a DVD of your favourite film that he borrowed—old fashioned, you know—he handed it over to Rodrygo, even when you are generally on good terms with everyone else in the team and wouldn’t mind him returning it himself.

It’s cute to you, to see the whole team supporting a relationship that is not there yet—like you are back in high school, testing the waters of a relationship by judging how the other’s friend group reacts to your mere presence.

And you are well aware that it is not wise to surmise Rodrygo’s intentions with just the way Brahim gives you a cheeky grin every time you make an appearance in their gatherings, scouring the crowd to point out where Rodrygo is, the same way it is definitely not wise to jump into the conclusion that Rodrygo loves you the way you love him with just an eye contact and a mouthed “I love you” to back up your hypothesis.

But you do anyway.

All chance of wisdom thrown out the window the moment you feel your heart breaking through your rib, the world suddenly turning silent when your brain finally registered what he might have said.

A confession, to you, under Bernabéu limelight, without anyone else in the world knowing.

The heat rushes through your chest, spreading butterflies on your neck and tummy and ears—amongst the commotion, you placed a hand on the top rail of your seat, and quietly sat.

“I’m so happy for you.”

The first thing you do when the game ends, and you see Rodrygo on the other side of the stadium’s tunnel, is untighten the jacket wrapped around your waist, suddenly feeling scrutinised under the gaze of every other person.

And you can see him there, a couple of feet away from you, trying to cage his excitement—a puppy with an invisible collar around his neck. He is lightly jogging your way, smiling and then frowning and then smiling again, like trying to decide what expression he should offer you.

“Thanks,” Rodrygo almost sounds sheepish, zipping up the grey—brown?—windbreaker up to his chin. You note how good he looks in it. “How did you like the goal?”

You can’t help your smile, carefully stitching the muscles on your cheeks. “Why are you saying it like that?”

He shrugs, bouncing back and forth on his heels. “Just, how did you like it?”

“It had a nice curve…” You trail, unsure how to respond to his question, chuckling when he finally decides to break the ice and opens his arm, inviting you to a warm hug.

“Come on,” He laughs against your hair, being the first one to let go after far too short of a time. “Nice curve, that’s it?”

“I mean,” you step back, putting one arm into your jacket sleeve. “Definitely got Real Madrid out of that pinch, did you?”

As people rush past your bodies, you feel the world slowing down again.

He leans a shoulder on the wall, the smile seemingly permanent on his lips. “They do call us ‘Second Half F.C.’, or something like that, huh?”

“It got my heart racing, that’s for sure,” you decide to zip up your jacket this time, feeling cold despite the flaring glow inside of you.

He pushes himself off the wall, giving you a grin. “Sorry for that.”

“What’s there to be sorry for? Real Madrid won, you scored, and you had a real nice curve to that goal.”

He thinks you’re a comedian—Rodrygo barks out a harsh laugh, nodding towards the exit door. “Come on,” he places both hands inside of the pockets of his windbreaker, “let’s see the other guys.”

And you watch him lead the way, humming to himself like a kid the night before a field trip.

You bite your lips, halting your steps after walking just a couple steps behind him.

“Also,” you call out, and he turns with a gentle gaze.

“Hm?”

You slip your hands in the pockets of your jacket, following his suit. 

“I love you too.”

This is where Rodrygo’s smile falters—you wonder if you had read his lips wrong, but before the insecurities could catch up to you, you shortened the gap you had between yourself and him.

“What?”

You ignore the nervousness, this time, cracking in his voice. You ignore how he carefully and slowly takes out his hands out his pockets; how one of them goes to cover his gaping mouth. You ignore the butterflies in your tummy. You ignore it all.

“And I think,” you take a deep breath, offering the coolest smile you can muster, trying to act like it does not alter your entire world, “it’s sweet that you decided to confess your love in front of the whole world.”

“You saw that?” His eyes crinkle, beaming a grin while looking worried at the same time. He glances at the ceiling, “you love me too?”

“Rodrygo,” you say his name, your voice almost crumbling in a whine, and he takes his mouth away from his mouth, letting it form a fist against it.

“This is the third goal I scored while telling you that I love you.”

This confession shocks you more than his declaration of love.

“Third?”

He steps in closer, his hand cupping one side of your face, peering deep into your eyes, trying to extract every possible secret you have hidden in your mind.

You may be an idiot for not noticing sooner.

“I know that you’d probably find out sooner or later, but—”

“Third, Rodrygo?” You ask again, placing a hand over the back of his on your face.

“I’m too much of a coward to say it straight to your face,” you understand his sheepishness now. “It was so scary to tell you that I love you….”

Your eyes widen to hear him say the words, actually meaning for you to hear it.

“….but it doesn’t feel as scary now.”

His thumb brushes over the skin under your eye—a couple of people may have stopped walking to examine the interesting posture you find yourself in, only then continuing on their merry way. But you couldn’t really care.

“God,” he chuckles, for a moment looking away, weak under the way your eyes are staring back. “I love you.”

You close your eyes, swallowing in all the anxiety on the tip of your tongue and the tension on your shoulder, before opening them back up.

“I love you too.”

[positivexcellence]

Is there garlic on this pizza? An oral history of Supernatural's 'Monster Movie' episode

THE BEGINNING

What started as a simple enough idea — a black-and-white episode — was then put into the hands of writer Ben Edlund, who’d already crafted some of the show’s more creative hours, including “Hollywood Babylon,” which marked one of the series’ first meta episodes, and “Ghostfacers,” which was shot like a cheesy ghost-hunting reality show using handheld cameras. Alongside Edlund was director Robert Singer, an executive producer on the series and a massive movie fan himself.

ERIC KRIPKE (Creator): I was an obsessive fan of The X-Files and in their prime, they got really bold and adventurous with their format, and they had a black-and-white episode. I was always hoping that we could start taking those same kinds of swings. I remember saying, “I want to do a black-and-white episode where Sam and Dean are up against the classic movie monsters.” But I think Ben came up with the shapeshifter. We were trying to figure out: How do you get a mummy and a werewolf and a Frankenstein and a Dracula in the same episode? That makes no f---ing sense. So this idea of a shapeshifter who loved those movies and was ultimately just a fanboy was the secret to cracking that one open. 

ROBERT SINGER (Director): I think that script was Ben at his best. I was really happy that I was in line to direct because I really loved those old movies, so it was fortuitous that I got to do it. 

JENSEN ACKLES (Dean Winchester): It’s all just paying homage to the old-school ways of doing things, which having Bob at the helm, he’s seen all those movies time and time again, so he was the perfect guy to direct this episode. 

KRIPKE: Bob has an encyclopedic knowledge of movies, especially older films. He’s a classicist and his directing style is a lot of that kind of beautiful, elegant Hollywood style, and I think he just really relished it.

SINGER: I shot generally with wider lenses than I would normally do with Supernatural to try to give it some of that old-time feel. I really took pains to make it look as old fashioned as I possibly could. I’m a big fan of James Whale, who had done Frankenstein, and there are a lot of great crane shots in those movies, so I did a lot of crane work in this. We did a lot of shadow play. 

JARED PADALECKI (Sam Winchester): You put Ben Edlund on writing and Bob Singer on directing and magic is bound to happen.

But there was another piece of the puzzle that needed to come together for the magic to truly work: Who would play the shapeshifter (and therefore spend the episode doing their best Dracula)? The answer was Todd Stashwick.

TODD STASHWICK (Dracula): They wanted a full-on replication of Bela Lugosi’s performance. I had the DVD of the 1930’s Dracula, so I was watching that just to get the mannerisms and vocal intonation down so that I wasn’t doing a Xerox carbon copy but rather actually trying to get that Hungarian dialect that he has. I went in [to the audition] and just swung for the rafters.

SINGER: We had him do one of the Dracula scenes and then do the speech where he’s telling her how he became the way he became and Todd just killed it. That was an easy call to cast him.

STASHWICK: They wanted to know that you were going to be able to bring both sides to it, the full-on studied Dracula performance and then to let that mask drop and see the wounded man that is the monster. 

KRIPKE: We needed someone who could stick the landing on the Dracula part and that’s really hard. It’s hard to do it and have it not come off like a bit. Todd is a remarkable mimic of Bela Lugosi and brings humanity and soulfulness and depth to it. There’s something in his eyes that made it deeper and sadder than had you cast someone who was just going for an impersonation.

PADALECKI: That episode belongs to Todd Stashwick. He’s so damn good. 

Alongside Stashwick was Melinda Sward, whose character Jamie, a local waitress, caught Dean's eye and marked a first for the show. 

KRIPKE: At the time, there was a young female fan named Jamie. She and her mother would write us letters and they were super fans, and we were still early enough that we’re like, “I can’t believe there’s fans.” Jamie had medical issues, so when the season was coming up, I wrote her a response and said, “If you concentrate on getting better, we’ll name a character after you.” And she responded and said, “That’s amazing, but can you just do me a favor? Can you make sure it’s a character that doesn’t die?” So the female lead in this one we named Jamie. That was one of the only times we ever named a character after a real person and a fan. The happy ending is she was thrilled and she grew up healthy and now tours around with a replica of the Impala. 

ACKLES: Jamie was one of my favorite Dean Girls. Melinda was so good and so fun.

From the instant the episode began, fans knew they were in for something special as the old black-and-white WB logo kicked off a very old-school credits sequence.

SINGER: Right from the opening of the Warner Brothers shield, you know where you’re going. It set the tone perfectly.

KRIPKE: That and “Changing Channels” are the only two episodes where I’ll sit down and just watch the credit sequence. The font, the way you list every crew member, and it just goes on forever. And [composer Christopher] Lennertz wrote real orchestral music for it. I just love the opening of that episode and the way we did that title sequence. But changing subjects, what that reminds me of is the singular genius of Ben Edlund to set this episode during Oktoberfest. Suddenly everyone looks like European villagers and everything becomes a real monster movie.

SINGER: And that location was a party site, but it worked perfect for us. 

PADALECKI: It was like an amusement park in the outskirts of Vancouver that we rented out. It ended up unfortunately getting torn down and turned into condos or something.

THE MIDDLE

With the setting and the cast locked, the brothers set out on their hunt, arriving at Oktoberfest to help solve a murder. And when the investigation made Dean late to his first date with Jamie, he found himself face-to-face with Dracula. So naturally, Dean punched the shapeshifter in the face. A fight ensued, one that ended with Dean holding an ear and Dracula ... riding a vespa?

ACKLES: I believe one of the many reasons this show lasted as long as it did is because it can be scary but then at the same time, you throw something like the scooter in and it layers in comedy with horror, with drama, with romance. It touches it all. Bob said it early on and it became a mantra of ours: “No joke is too cheap.” 

STASHWICK: That’s the infamous assault scene. I’m in full crazy mode and I’m supposed to clock Jensen in his beautiful face with my elbow, and for whatever reason in that moment — I perhaps leaned in, he perhaps leaned in — we closed that gap and I clocked him. So what you see on the DVD extras is me being all Dracula and then me being mortified that I just hit their billion dollar baby in the face.

ACKLES: He caught me with an elbow but he probably thought he hit me harder than he did. It was a mix between a good shot and a graze, but he immediately broke character. He was like, “Are you good?” And I was like, “Yeah, that one woke me up.” [Laughs]

Dean made it through that fight, but the shapeshifter had already planned its next move: While Sam checked out an eccentric local that they thought was the killer, Dean and Jamie shared a drink back at the bar where she worked. Her friend Lucy (Holly Elissa) then showed up just in time to spike their drinks. By the time Dean woke up, he was wearing Lederhosen while strapped to a table in a dungeon.

SINGER: Jensen was like, “Oh god do I have to wear this?” So to make him feel better, I put on the Lederhosen top. I didn’t go with the full shorts but I did direct that day in the Lederhosen top to take the edge off it a little bit for him.

ACKLES: I remember that! He directed in that shirt. [Laughs] Those were authentic leather Lederhosen from Bavaria. Only the best for Dean.

PADALECKI: When Jensen’s first getting strapped to the table, cause he’s a big guy, I remember them talking about how for the visual's sake, they wanted it to be like he’s a quote-unquote damsel in distress, so if they used a normal-sized platform, it would’ve looked comical, but not in a good way. So they had to make it a little bigger cause he’s kind of big.

Dean wasn’t in the dungeon long before Dracula left him to go answer the doorbell. It seemed the shapeshifter ordered a pizza … and he had a coupon.

KRIPKE: I just love how there’s the monster lab in the basement but then you go upstairs and it’s this mid-century ranch house. That’s almost a direct ripoff of the Steve Martin movie The Man with Two Brains.

SINGER: [Set designer] Jerry [Wanek] did a great job in building the dungeon set, and then when the doorbell rings, you realize it’s in the bottom of a suburban house with a pizza guy showing up at the door. 

KRIPKE: When Ben wrote the script, we talked about that scene more than any other scene in the episode. We were so specific about how we wanted the Dracula shapeshifter to react to the pizza guy and the way he’s scared when he says, “Is there garlic on the pizza?” And then the way the pizza guy’s so bored and over it: “Did you order garlic?” And then he says, “No!” It’s the way that he’s so bored of this Dracula at the door.

PADALECKI: I think Jensen and I must’ve watched this episode together in 2008 because I remember us looking at each other and going like, ”Oh my god, [the pizza guy] is way better than he needs to be!”

ACKLES: That line, because of the way that Todd delivered it, we used that line on set many, many times. Whenever somebody asked a question that had an obvious “no” to it, it’d be like, “Hey, did you want the big light on in the distance?” And Bob would be like, “Is there garlic on it?” So that became a little ism on set.

STASHWICK: I’m a Second City guy, so “yes, and” is drilled into my head and yet the two memes I’m most known for, I’m saying the word “no,” and that is Supernatural and Star Trek. I have the no's that are heard around the world. 

In the end, the brothers came out victorious and another monster was dead, but not before this one made you feel a little something (and gave one heck of a final monologue quoting King Kong). 

KRIPKE: Ben gets all the credit, and rightfully so, for writing the crazy episodes, but where I don’t think he gets enough credit is what a disciplined screenwriter he is in terms of character consistency and rule consistency and just the emotion and pathos he brings to every single story he does. No matter how crazy, he always has such a talent for capturing humanity. I wasn’t counting on the shapeshifter to have pathos but when he gives that speech at the end, it’s so sad. I give him all the credit in the world for that.

SINGER: Eric used to say, “Every villain is a hero of his own story,” so we always tried, as best we could, to give the villains something to do and learn more about them and give them full characters. So even with all this fun, we managed to give him something a little more to do. 

PADALECKI: He becomes an almost sympathetic character — I stress almost because he did kill a couple people — but what a great character arc all inside of one episode.

STASHWICK: Because this character wasn’t just a cartoon Dracula and he had that human moment, I think it made him stick in people’s minds more. This monster just really loved the movies. He was the ultimate cosplayer. It might be the thing I’m most known for outside of Star Trek, that one episode of TV.

THE END...?

Although Dracula didn’t make it out alive, the episode seemed to breathe new life into the series, marking perhaps its biggest risk yet, though not the biggest risk the show would ever take. 

SINGER: It kind of laid a template for other big swings that we took that were out of the ordinary, whether it was “Changing Channels” or “The French Mistake.” This was the first of our big swings of being totally different than what the show was generally week to week.

KRIPKE: I remember it getting a positive reception. I think people appreciated the swings we were starting to take. I just love that this small little supernatural show that’s arguably a Buffy ripoff on The CW got so experimental. I am really proud that we were doing legit avant-garde stuff, really experimental filmmaking, of which this was one, and then we just kept pushing it. 

PADALECKI: It’s such a great episode of television and I think we have a few in our 15 years that could stand alone as something fun to watch and out of the box, and it's certainly easy to argue "Monster Movie" is at the top.

ACKLES: This was really when we were hitting our stride. We were in the pocket with these characters, with the storytelling, with the writing. The first year was really finding our feet, the second was like, "Okay we somehow survived a network merge, let’s not mess this up." And then third season we started playing a little bit. So by the fourth season, we’re like, "Now we know where we need to be." This was the perfect time to do one of these outside-the-box episodes. This is definitely one of my top 10.

SINGER: I directed 48 episodes and if somebody asked me which is my favorite, I would probably say this one. I just had the best time doing it. 

Entertainment Weekly

[iandarling]

Ian Gallagher loves thrifting shopping

-From as early as he can remember Fiona would drag him and Lip (and later on the other kids) to various thrift shops to scout for winter coats and homeware goods. Fiona let him and Lip run around and play a game of “find the ugliest thing in the shop” while she desperately searched the bins for a winter coat that could fit a 5 year old that he could also grow into. She has 25 bucks in hand trying to find clothing to keep her brothers warm all the while Lip and Ian are playing hide and seek in the back

-When he grows a little older he takes Debbie and Carl with him to find clothes for summer (most of fiona’s clothes don’t fit debbie yet so she needs a whole new wardrobe, but carl inherited his brothers old clothes). Ian spends hours rummaging through the racks hoping to find a some decent looking clothes that could survive multiple years of the harsh summer heat

-Once Liam is born the Gallaghers have a ton of baby clothes he can use and grow into- they’ve been passed down from Lip, Ian, Debbie and now Carl. Even so, Ian wants to give Liam something new-ish that could be just his. He has about 20 bucks and he goes to thrift shops on the north side to look for some better quality baby clothes and toys- he finds an unused teddy bear and a handsome little jacket

-When he’s a young adult Ian spends a small amount of his pay check each month collecting bits and pieces for the home- new kitchenware and some new towels for the bathroom, some posters for Carl and Liam, books for Debbie and candles for Fiona.

-When Ian and Mickey moved into their apartment, they go thrifting in the fancy shops on the west side (“you won’t believe what these rich fuckers give away for free, man!”) They find a nice little patio furniture set for 50 bucks that they use everyday, Ian finds a lightly used blue Le Cruset oven-dish and he’s never been happier

-Ian keeps up his childhood game of “find the ugliest thing in the shop” with Mickey and Liam. He finds a “trophy wife” t-shirt that he buys for himself (“i know what i am and i’m proud of it”), a new backpack for Liam alongside new textbooks he needs for high school

-Mickey discovers that thrift shops have a good deal on dvds (“fuck netflix man, i prefer the physical copies”), he ends up finding a sale of 10 dvds for 1 dollar (so naturally he ends up with 30 dvds, he likes having them stacked up next to the tv). Ian picks out a lot of kids movies for Franny and Freddie and some documentaries for Liam, but the rest are all the movies he and mickey loves

-As a kid he used to frequent thrift shops in hopes of finding clothes to keep him and his siblings warm throughout the winter, but as an adult he can afford new clothes. Now, he spends his time looking for items for his home- new lampshades, curtains, posters and artwork that mickey will also like.

-He is no longer worried of spending another winter without a jacket, but he will always pop by a thrift shop when he sees one…

“just in case”

Gallager Headcanons, as requested

@lupeloto

[cecilyv]

Just a bit outside (9-1-1)

Buck/Tommy, pg-13

If What’s with today, today? was indulging @liminalmemories21, this is absolutely indulging me (while also allowing Lim to be snarky). We started this a while ago, and it was jossed by both the start of 9-1-1 and the end of the actual baseball season, but we’re just rolling with it.

Who wants to see Tommy in baseball pants? 

+++

He doesn’t mean to snoop, honestly. It’s not like it was even that hidden, just mixed in with a pile of manuals and old takeout menus in the bottom drawer of the cupboard, where Buck’s kind of desperately hoping to find the way to fix the dishwasher before the trickle of water threatening to turn into a flood destroys Tommy’s entire kitchen. 

He grabs the stack, sorting through them quickly, tossing the ones he doesn’t need on the table, when the decorated cardstock falls open to a picture of Tommy in a high school baseball uniform, serious face with a slight frown, posed with a bat -- Class of ‘98! Go Cougars! -- written across the top. He stares at it, just for a second, before the dishwasher gives another ominous gurgle and he tosses the picture on the table with the rest of the things that are definitely NOT the dishwasher manual. 

It’s two hours, a washer load of soaking wet towels and a shower later -- he just wanted some breakfast, is that too much to ask? -- when he sees the picture again. 

See, the thing is, there aren’t many mementos, memories, scattered around Tommy’s house, like his life started when he joined the LAFD. There’s a lot of plants and a collection of DVDs on a shelf next to the TV (Buck doesn’t understand, he’s pretty sure he’s never actually owned a DVD himself in his entire life and certainly not an actual DVD player, which sits, pride of place on Tommy’s tv stand), and that’s about it. 

Buck never pushes him about it; he doesn’t particularly want to talk about his childhood either, and it’s enough to know that Tommy’s not close with any of his family. 

But looking at the Tommy in the picture makes Buck a little curious about how Tommy grew up, how he became the person he is. In the photo, Tommy’s somehow both smaller and bigger, more baby fat than muscle, back hunched like he was trying to hide from everyone, possibly the camera most of all. Buck can see the edges of the man he would become in his face, shoulders, and in those thighs (which are very nicely displayed in the knee-length knickers, though the orange and blue color combo of his uniform are doing Tommy’s complexion no favors). His eyes haven’t changed. 

He puts the rest of the manuals away but leaves the picture propped on the table while he finally gets around to frying his eggs and, blessedly, making coffee. He’s just sitting down with a plate when Tommy gets home, dropping his bag in the entryway. Buck calls out hello, so Tommy knows he’s there, knows where he is, but continues shoveling eggs into his mouth until he feels Tommy kiss the back of his neck, swallows, tilts his head back -- but instead of the expected kiss, Tommy’s distracted, staring at the table. Buck looks back, “Oh, I found that earlier when I--” And oh, right, he hadn’t texted Tommy in the flurry of trying to get the dishwasher fixed. “Did you know you’re supposed to change the filter in the dishwasher? Because, uh, there was a slight leak this morning.” 

“There’s a filter?” Tommy asks, as he presses his hands down hard on Buck’s shoulders, “and define slight.” 

“Small! Miniscule! I already got it cleaned up!”

Tommy nods, says thank you, and looks back at the table. “So you found the picture.”

“When I was looking for the manual,” Buck agrees. “I didn’t know you played baseball. I played football–“ 

Tommy snorts. “Of course you did!” 

And hey. “Hey!” 

Tommy squeezes his shoulders and steps back. “You kind of have a thing for running headlong into danger, Evan, I’m not sure if you noticed.” 

The end of his thought is muffled, like he’s talking with his shirt over his head, and Buck twists in his seat to watch as Tommy drops his shirt at his feet and starts popping the buttons on his pants, and– “Oh, hey, no distracting me, you played baseball–” 

“I was drafted out of high school,” Tommy says, as he kicks off his pants and reaches for Buck’s hand, tugging him up, kissing him softly. “Enlisted in the Army instead.” He shrugs and looks down the hallway toward the bedroom. “Can I distract you now?” 

Turns out, the answer is definitely, yes.  

[tiramisuucakeee]

1. SAVED BY A SPIDER

( sunflower, yang jungwon )

warnings: bad ppl wanting bad stuff ig, fight scene.

“you got detention? again? we were supposed to go dress shopping for the dance,” giselle whined, while you shot her an apologetic look. it was the end of the school day, and you both were supposed to go out with the rest of the friend group to shop, but a small problem came up regarding your attendance.

“i wish i was joking, my lunch tray accidentally fell over mr. park, he got all mad, and here we are,” you shrugged, checking the time, and stepped back. “i swear i’ll make it up to you all.”

“y/n…” she warned, wanting you to miss detention, but you kept stepping back, as you were going to be late.

“i’m sorry gigi, i gotta go!” you started trotting away from her, waving.

making it to the classroom just in time for detention to start, you observed there was only a few students sitting down, boredly staring at the wall or their hands.

“almost late miss. l/n,” mr. park called you from the front of the room, just to your luck, he was the teacher that took care of watching over the detention students. “take a seat and no funny business,” he instructed.

you made your way towards a lonely desk, sitting quickly, as you watched the teacher turn on a tv, and slide a dvd in a slot.

“the principal told me to put on this video for you guys, so i hope you all watch it carefully, and think about your actions,” he pointed the controller towards the tv, pressing the ‘play’ button.

on the small screen, a fake school hallway background came on, followed by the famous hero - captain america - walking onto the frame, and sitting on a red foldable chair.

“this can’t be real,” you muttered, under your breath, and pulled your hair up, laying on top of your backpack.

the school, along with many others, were sent psa videos by captain america. you didn’t know how many of them existed, but your teachers had already played various of them.

“so, you got detention” captain america started, crossing his buff arms. “you screwed up. you know what you did was wrong. the question is, how are you going to make things right? maybe you were trying to be cool, but take it from a guy who was frozen for 65 years, the only way to really be cool, is to follow the rules. we all know what’s right, we all know what’s wrong…-”

and, lights out. your eyes closed shut, and your head fell ontop of your backpack.

detention went by pretty quickly, mr. park getting angry at a couple of students who went on their phones or stood up without permission, just like always.

when the sun started to set, he strolled over to your desk, rolling his eyes at your sleeping figure. he slammed a book on the table, waking you up instantly, your vision spinning fast.

“detention is over miss. l/n,” he said, and went to his desk, as the rest of the students also packed up to leave.

“right,” you said, and stood up, bidding everyone goodbye, before heading out, not wanting to be out in the streets late.

stepping out of the school premises, your zipped up your jacket, as the chilly air hit your skin. walking towards a liquor shop that was always open, you took out your wallet. nobody knew this but the owner of the shop always sold cookies. his daughter was a girl scout and they had a hard time selling them, so he opted to help.

“well hello y/n,” the old man greeted you, glad to see the only teenage girl that came to his shop not to buy alcoholic drinks. “i saved you a box, they are miraculously sold out for today,” he grinned from behind the counter.

you shot him a warm smile, happy for him and his family “that’s good, and thanks for saving some for me, i was in detention and i’m starving,” you laughed, handing him a bill. he waved you off after giving you your change, not wanting you to stay inside the shop for long, as the sky was already darkening and a teenage girl being out alone was no good.

you were already relatively close to your house when the air got colder, a small chill running up your arm, while you took another chocolate chip cookie from the cute box and turned left to a street.

that was when you spotted a group of men chatting near a car, all looking very suspicious, but nonetheless, that group’s presence wasn’t unusual at all.

it all started with a whistle. you walked quickly past them, and heard a faint disgusting cat call. choosing to ignore it, your pace sped up. “hey! i’m talking to you!” one of them spoke louder, a small crash of glass following his words, various footsteps coming dangerously closer to you.

not daring to look back, you turned sharply at the first opening you saw, your breath hitching in your throat as you realized you had stumbled into a dead end. the dark brick walls loomed high in front of you, and your heart raced , pounding in your ears as you realized the situation you were in.

you spun back, being met with five figures which seemed to grow taller the closer they got. you didn’t want to accept what was about to happen, but their taunting explicit words had you with no other option.

“please, i don’t care what you do, at least just let me go back home to my family after,” you teared up, grabbing your backpack strap tighter and backed away, hoping that they would at least feel sorry for you.

“nah, i don’t think we’d be done with a pretty girl like you in some just some minutes, i need more time than that? what do you say lady?” one of them smirked, as they all stood a single meter away from you. the guy that spoke grabbed your arm and pulled you closer to him, while you shut your eyes, praying for an escape.

you struggled against his strong grip, making you feel completely powerless. “leave me alone!” his four companions laughed at your actions, mocking your desperate words.

another one ripped your back pack off, and threw it near some trash cans, that rattled with the impact, along with the cookie box. they all continued to say all kinds of filthy things, making you lose all kinda of hopes you had in people.

then suddenly, someone took your hand, and pulled you away from the group, and behind them. you were met with a red-suited back. the person that had just saved you turned halfway to you, and you recognized them as the friendly neighborhood spider-man everyone spoke about recently.

“i’ll take care of them, don’t worry,” he said, with a voice that you didn’t recognize in that moment.

he stepped forward to fight them, and spun around, shooting out a web that snagged one of the attackers by the ankle. the guy yelped, crashing to the ground with a thud.

"what the- ?" another shouted, anger flaring as he lunged at spider-man, fists swinging. but with a swift motion, spider-man ducked and countered, delivering a quick jab to the guy's midsection. he doubled over, gasping.

the remaining three exchanged glances, uncertainty creeping in as they saw their friends crumple. spider-man moved like a blur, swinging effortlessly from wall to wall, using his agility to evade their punches. one of them lunged at you, but before you could react, spider-man was there, landing a solid kick that sent him sprawling backward.

"stay close to me," he softly instructed, his spider-like masked eyes locking onto yours for a brief moment, a flicker of reassurance cutting through your fear.

“okay, i trust you.” you nodded, heart racing, as you pressed yourself against the wall, as to not get in his way.

spider-man faced the last two, a playful grin breaking through the tension. "is this really how you want to spend your night? because i've got better plans," he shrugged. “you know, some of us have science projects to finish.”

they hesitated, and in that moment, he lunged again, catching one with a spinning kick that sent him reeling into his companion. they stumbled, and as they scrambled to recover, spider-man shot a web, binding them together like a human fly trap.

with the last of the attackers bound tightly in a web, and knocked unconscious, he turned back to you, his expression instantly softening. he took a moment to catch his breath, but his spider eyes were locked onto yours, searching for any sign of distress. “are you okay?” he asked, his voice low and soothing, filled with genuine concern. yes he was spider-man, but he was also scared shitless that something had happened to you, out of all people.

“yeah i- think i will be okay..” you nodded, but the tremor in your hands gave away the fear still clinging to you. tears threatened to spill as the adrenaline faded, leaving you feeling vulnerable.

“hey,” spider-man said gently, stepping closer, his presence warm and reassuring. “it’s okay to be shaken up. you just went through something really intense.” he reached out, placing a hand on your shoulder, his touch sending a spark of comfort through you. “let’s take a deep breath together, alright?”

you inhaled shakily, and he mirrored you. “you’re safe now,” he continued, his voice softening further, as if he was sharing a secret. “that’s what matters to me.”

the night around you felt lighter somehow. the city sounds resumed, but they felt distant. you took a deep breath, feeling gratitude for the masked individual. “thank you, really. i don’t know what would’ve happened if you hadn’t shown up.”

“i’m just glad i got here in time,” he replied. “you didn’t deserve any of that.” he stepped a little closer, the air between you electric, as he helped you put on your backpack again. “but honestly, you handled yourself pretty well, if only we didn’t have these damn dead ends in the city.”

a small smile tugged at your lips. “yeah it was pretty scary.”

“that’s totally understandable,” he said. there was a moment of silence, and you could feel the tension shift.

“let’s get you out of here,” he finally said, breaking the spell, a hint of excitement lighting up his eyes as he looked at you. he crouched slightly, readying himself. “trust me?” he offered you his arm, and as you took it.

“okay, just don’t let me fall, i live in the penthouse at the hybe building,” you told him, and he nodded, remembering the place.

without another word, he shot a web into the night sky, the silken strand glistening in the city lights. he wrapped an arm around your waist securely, pulling you close. “hold on tight,” he instructed, and as you clutched his shoulder, he launched himself upward.

the world below you blurred into a cascade of lights and sounds as you soared through the air. the wind whipped past, cool against your skin, but you felt an exhilarating feeling from being so close to him, the man who had just saved your life. his grip was secure, and you couldn’t help but feel a sense of freedom as the city stretched out beneath you.

“this is so cool!” you shouted over the rush of the wind.

he swung from building to building, the city skyline unfolding like a living map. the streets were alive with people, but from this height, everything felt distant and surreal. he pointed out the building. “that’s our stop!”

you could feel his heartbeat through your touch, matching your own racing pulse. and suddenly, spider-man wasn’t some pretentious genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist wannabe, in a awfully designed halloween costume who only looked out for himself, he did care about people, because he was just like you.

he even had an unfinished science project.

finally, he reached the balcony of your home, landing gracefully after flying past the other floors. he gently set you down, still holding your hand as you caught your breath. “see? not so scary, right?” he said, and you could sense a teasing smile on his lips.

the balcony was open, and had a few sun chairs next to the pool, the outdoor lights illuminating the place, but you knew your parents were not home yet, since the indoor lights were off.

you laughed, still buzzing from the trip and then paused. “thank you for everything, mr. spider-man. really. i owe you my life and much more.”

“anytime,” he replied softly, his touch lingering on your hand for a moment before he pulled back. “i’d do it again in a heartbeat. and you better expect to see me again to check up on you, okay?” he asked, for the first time in forever, promising someone that he would do that.

as he prepared to swing away, you noticed how he hesitated, glancing back at you. you gave him a nod, and he reciprocated, leaving you there.

standing alone on the balcony, you knew this was just the start of something. no one gets saved by a superhero like that and walks away without a word. the connection between you felt real, and you could tell he felt it too. you swore you’ve been around this person, he felt way too familiar for him not to be, it was almost as if he knew you and what to say.

and yang jungwon felt exactly the same thing, he felt more courage than ever to speak with you now that spider-man did. if him in a silly suit and a mask could, why would he not be able to in school? of course, you were just the girl he had been in love with since he saw you the first day of freshman year in maths class, way before he was someone different.

he just hoped you would appreciate him as much as him, than you did spider-man.

EXTRA:

masterlist.

next chapter.

all chapters.