#make her venture through all the things they did in the film

[bug-and-such]

Very tempted to rewrite The Haunted Mansion 2003 story to satisfy my gothic romance craving

[jarofstyles]

Bad Idea, Right?

Obviously inspired by Miss Olivia Rodrigo’s song, here is a one shot I loved writing :) a bit of angst, a bit of a fluff, a lot of smut, a little bit of everything!

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WC- 6.2k

Warnings- toxic relationship, kinda asshole h, angst, crying, slight degradation, spitting, impact play (light), sex tape filming, daddy kink (light), use of Mama 🤭

—-

Y/N knew this was a very bad idea. She knew she was going to regret this in the morning, as she usually did when Harry texted her to show up somewhere, but here she was. 

Her best black dress in the most soft fabric, the one he had complimented her on endlessly before peeling it off when they had still been together, was glued to her body, Hair curled and falling down her shoulders. If she was going to show up at a houseparty that her ex boyfriend was throwing, she may as well go all out and wear something that she knew he liked. 

Internally, she tried to talk herself out of it as she approached the open door, ignoring the people making out on his lawn. The thump of the bass was audible outside, a deep sigh being let out as she tossed her phone in her clutch after texting him a simple ‘here.’ The shot she had taken before had done next to nothing to calm her nerves, her red lipstick meticulously touched up in the back of the uber as she squirmed in the seat surely getting fucked up as she bit down on her bottom lip, venturing into the home that used to be so familiar to her. 

It had been 5 months since they’d broken up, but it had barely seemed like it. Harry had a way of getting into her head and driving her absolutely fucking mad. Their back and forth seemed neverending, their text threads updating every few days. A fight, a makeup, a request to see one another. As much as she wanted to claim it was all him, she knew she was equally as bad. It wasn’t like she hadn’t tried to find someone else- but no one else could get her off like him.

Harry knew her body better than anyone else, every curve and mark, where to touch and stroke. Where to stroke, where to lick, where to bite. He was an expert on how to get her off in just minutes, her cunt completely dedicated to him as much as she wished it wasn’t. Her brain and pussy had no communication in the information regarding the fact they were broken up, much to her dismay. The only thing saving her ego was that she knew that she had the same effect on Harry. There was no way she didn’t. Harry could very well fuck anyone he wanted to, more than capable to pull. Y/N had been overly jealous as a girlfriend and she knew that, but people were drawn to her boyfriend despite the fact it was well known he was taken. While he didn’t seem to take them up on it- he ate up the attention and preened over it, much to her irritation. It caused fights upon fights, her going out of her way to make him jealous- which worked. They both seemed to get off on pissing each other off. 

Breaking up was supposed to stop the cycle, but it seemed to only string it out further.

There had been so many times she deleted his number but when he pulled up on her notifications again, she recognized the number and his attitude and couldn’t resist temptation. No one had ever made Y/N feel so many emotions in her life. Being around Harry was like a live wire, electric and hot, dangerous and potentially harmful, but the benefits sometimes outweighed the risks. 

Her nose crinkled as she felt the floor stick under her shoe, knowing he would be pissed about that tomorrow. Whatever spiked punch was all over the floor and that would take some elbow grease to get out. Navigating through the entryway, she made her way into the living room. It was dark, flimsy lighting had been put up to make colorful strobes go around the room, the room far too filled for comfort. It was stupidly warm, regret crawling up her neck as she looked around to find anyone familiar. 

“There she is!” The voice was unmistakable. Niall, arms tugging her in for a hug and pulling her into the kitchen where it was a bit quieter, the main group she was familiar with strung about along with a few strangers. “Harry’s girl is here, everyone! Y/N herself.” He chirped, making her give him a confused look until she followed his gaze to see Harry standing stiffly, a girl too close for comfort. Her eyes narrowed, taking in how the girl angled her body, hand resting on Harry’s arm, looking at her with a scowl. 

It was an ugly feeling to see someone else around her man. Well- he wasn’t her man, but it was another miscommunication between her heart and brain. She hated seeing him around someone else, the mere idea of him being with someone that wasn’t her made her stomach turn. It wasn’t right. Yes, she knew it was a toxic cycle but it was one she didn’t know how to break. She knew this was bad, but she didn’t want anyone else having him the way she did. 

The only saving grace was the fact that Harry looked uncomfortable, immediately peeling himself away from the other girl and coming straight over to Y/N.. Her face must have shown her irritation, mouth opening and arm resting on her hip as she went to give him a bit of hell but was cut off by his mouth. 

And Y/N’s body, she was a fucking traitor. Feeling his arms wrap around her and push her against the counter, his tongue pressing into her mouth and tasting the cinnamon from the alcohol and sticky remnants of Coca Cola on his lips made her brain go numb. She always did love how strong he was, how safe she used to feel wrapped up in his arms. There were a few wolf whistles surrounding them, but Y/N had been taken aback from the heat of it so early on, hand slipping between her and the counter to grab at her ass. A surprised moan left her mouth before Niall let out a laugh. 

“Alright, alright. Stop eating her, Harry.” Niall smacked his back, making Harry pull back with a hazy smirk. Almost dopy, making her blink up at him with her eyes narrowing again. His eyes were dark, lips wet now and that dark pink she liked so, so much. He hadn’t shaved today, leaving a bit of stubble around his face, a backwards hat combing his hair back to keep it out of his face. The nose piercing was swapped from a stud to a hoop, making her a bit surprised. Had he done that for her? He knew she liked it….

“You can take your hand off my ass now.” Her sassy tone didn’t match how her eyes looked, secretly loving that he had so publicly claimed her in front of a girl they both knew wanted him. It was a sick feeling, the victory even though she knew it was wrong to feel that way. It was a constant fight with herself. Knowing she should most definitely not be feeling so happy that her ex had just kissed her dumb in front of all his friends, but still liking that she had a claim on him. 

“I could.” He retorted. “But it feels so nice in my palm, and we both know how much you like it.” A squeeze was given, Y/N scowling back up at him but not making any attempt to move. If she wanted to, he would get out of the way- but they both knew how this went. She pretended she didn’t liked his hands on her, he taunted her, they would glare and play fight before it got a little real, and they’d fuck. A circle they’d swung around plenty of times. His lips lowered to her ear, ignoring the chatter around them. “You’re wearing my dress, hm?” 

“Yours? M’sorry, did you want to wear it?” She rose her eyebrow that she definitely hadn’t laid to perfection before she came here. “I forgot you even liked this one. It was the first thing I could reach in my closet.” Her nose was turned up, this time pushing past him to go over to the drinks. She looked down to see a cup with his name scribbled on it with a sharpie, lifting it up for confirmation before throwing it back.

Regretted immediately.

“Ugh- Harry, what the fuck?” She gagged, nose wrinkled as she opened his fridge to grab a bottle of water. “I forgot how disgusting your drinks are. God, how do you even have a stomach?” She gave him a horrified look, swishing the water in her mouth.’

“No one told you to fuckin’ take mine!” He grumbled, taking the cup to find it empty. “Fucks sake, Y/N. Taking my drink and then bitching about it. As usual.” He came up behind her to grab the bottle over the fridge, his ‘good stuff’ or whatever. It was already that time of night? 

Where they started poking at each other to cause a fight. To have an excuse to wander off and to strip down to nothing. 

“Excuse me?” Y/N grit her teeth, turning to look at him as he poured into his recently emptied cup. He was trying to get a rise out of her. 

“You heard me, princess. Know those ears work, considering you’re an eavesdropper.” 

Oh, he was going low. She crinkled the water bottle in her hands, shoulders tending as she exhaled sharply through her nose. “Well I wouldn’t have had to if you didn’t get so fucking weird with your phone. You were the one hiding a ‘project partner’ from me.” Her fingers did air quotes around that, showing that she didn’t believe his excuse. 

“Oh, for fucks sake.” Harry hissed, his own jaw setting. “I told you that she was just a partner for my paper. I didn’t tell you at first because I know you’d overreact and go all insane on me for daring to interact with another woman.” He snarled back, knowing where to hit where it hurt. 

“I wouldn’t have had to be paranoid if you’d respected me to stop flirting and entertaining girls who disrespected our relationship by hitting on you in front of me! You literally encouraged it!” She was trying to keep her voice down, but it was hard. This was an especially sore spot. 

“So replying with a thank you is encouraging it? Sue me for liking that someone complimented me on something!” He raised an arm up, running fingers through his hair in frustration before he turned away to lean on the counter with his arms crossed, cup in hand. “God, you do this every fucking time. We aren’t fucking together anymore, that’s your fault. Why do you continue to harrass me about this? Even if I did encourage it, I never went for it did I?” A cruel smirk emerged. “Though I’m a free agent now, yeah? Could go take Josslyn or Heather up on their offers?

Harry knew he had taken it a bit too far when her breathing caught for real, watching as he froze and her bottom lip trembled. That wasn’t a part of their regular script to wind each other up before hot sex. It was a bit of the real hurt that has blossomed through, but he hadn’t meant to let it out. Her eyes turned glassy, her hand snatching his drink and throwing it at his shirt. 

“Fuck you.” 

Harry felt the cold liquid hit him, hissing as he stood in slight shock as he watched her turn to leave. He had really fucked up. His stomach dropped as he tried to gather his bearings, cursing under his breath before going after her. 

“Y/N! Fuck, don’t go.” He yelled after her, making his way through the throngs of people in his living room, eyes watching her back go towards the door. While he had definitely said fucked up things before, this had been designed to hit where it really hurt. 

Y/N stomped through the living room, ignoring his calls for her as she got closer to the door- closer to escape- when she was caught. Arms wrapping around her waist as he pulled her into the bathroom next to the stairs and turning so he was against the door. Y/N kept her back towards him but yanked herself free from his grip, irritated that she was crying. That it still hurts. He knew it would and that’s partially what made it worse. He had been out to hurt her and she had known it was a bad idea to show up tonight but somewhere in her heart she had this tiny, tiny hidden hope that maybe tonight would be a night they could finally get over their differences. She missed him so much it ached if she allowed herself to feel it, but she had tried to refuse her feelings. 

It had boiled over now, though.

Harry swallowed thickly as he heard the sniffle. Y/N wasn’t one to cry about a lot. She hadn’t shed a lot of tears in the time they’d been together, emotionally iron clad as it seemed. When she did? It was unnerving. Heartbreaking. It was one of his least favorite things ever, seeing her crumble. While he may have enjoyed getting her angry and irritated, maybe a little jealous, he never liked hurting her. He gained no pleasure from that. 

“Baby…” He spoke softly, trying to turn her around, hands pulling at her shoulders. He was bigger than her and could definitely turn her around if he wanted to, but he wouldn’t ever touch her in a way she didn’t want. 

“No. You can’t- you can’t call me that anymore. I am not your baby.” She hissed, keeping herself turned from him. Harry winced. She hadn’t said that before, not seriously, but the venom in her voice had shown how upset she was. It was laced with the hoarse blanket that coated her voice when she cried, making it even worse. “You can go call Josslyn or Heather. I’m sure they’d love to be your b-baby.” The end of the sentence was joined with a little sob, effectively breaking his heart further. 

“No. No, I’m not… I didn’t mean it, Y/N. I promise. I was just upset and I didn’t mean for it to come out, I just wanted you to feel-”

“What?” Whipping around, Y/N’s mascara streaked cheeks were a blow to the chest. Her vulnerability was something he used to crave, to be the one she confided in or let herself break with. He wanted to be there for her. Not be the cause of her tears. “You wanted me to feel hurt, like you did? Do you not think I don’t hurt every fucking day?” 

“You broke up with me!” Harry tried, her glare making him stop talking quickly after. 

“I broke up with you because you didn’t take me seriously. How could you go from telling me you can’t wait to put a ring on my finger, can’t wait to have a family with me, to flirting with girls the same night? Do you know how humiliating it is to have your friends tell you that they heard so and so say they were going to try something because it ‘obviously isn’t serious with Y/N?” The incredulous look on her face made him shrink back a bit. 

“I didn’t know that! It was never real flirting, Y/N. I liked to get my ego stroked, the attention felt nice, but I would never, ever step out on you. I love you, for fucks sake!” He went to reach for her but she backed up, flinching slightly. Another dagger to the chest. He had really, really fucked up. She never denied his touch.

“You love me?” A humorless laugh escaped her swollen lips. “Is that how you love people, Harry? Make them feel disposable and humiliated because you can’t be happy with one girl telling you that she loves you back? My compliments weren’t enough?” Arms crossed defensively over her chest. “Give me a fucking break. Telling me that as if you didn’t just say moments ago that you should take up girls who actively disrespected our relationship on their offers to fuck you while you were dating me? Yeah, that’s definitely something someone who loved me would do.” She wanted to stay angry but she was hurt. Hurt so bad, the full weight of their breakup actually hitting her as she felt the sob crawl up her throat and hurried to cover her eyes as she began to cry. It couldn’t be held back. She was at her breaking point.

Harry wanted to throw up. He hadn’t thought of it that way, and honestly? He had never expected this. Sometimes Y/N had acted as if she didn’t have a lot of emotion, reserved and a bit quiet when she expressed herself. The one time he had gotten her to let go was during sex, where he truly felt her desire. That was maybe why he liked the attention from other people. She wasn’t very forthcoming with praise or overly lovey with him, and it had hurt a little. But he could deal with that later, because his poor fucking girl was sobbing in front of him.

“No, no… sweet girl. Please.” He watched as she dropped down to sit on the floor, gathering her knees to her chest as he followed after her. “Hey- M’so sorry. I didn’t think about it like that. I really didn’t. I was just talking out of my ass because I was hurt we’re still broken up a-and I shouldn’t have said anything but….” He sat down fully next to her, pulling her body on to his lap. She tried to squirm at first but he could tell it was half hearted as she settled down a moment later, the sobs wracking her body as his arms wrapped around her and his lips went to her ear. 

“M’so sorry, sweetheart. I didn’t ever want to make you feel that way. You’ve always been so important to me and this is breaking my heart.” He whispered. “Hate that you’re crying because of me. I hate that I ever made you doubt that you were important to me, or that I respect you. I do. I promise you, I do.” He whimpered slightly, desperate to get her to believe him. “I’m an ass, I know. But you have to know I do, I love you so much. I’m so fucking sorry for throwing that in your face.” 

In the grand scheme of things, he knew that some people would think she was overreacting- but he understood now. He hadn’t truly meant to take it that far, hadn’t even stopped to think that those exact women had been sources of insecurity. They were the first to pop into his head because he had rejected them again tonight, waiting for Y/N to arrive. 

He never wanted to be broken up with. He had planned on being with her forever, and he had fucked it up. 

Her cries started to fade, sniffles taking the place of sobs as he whispered soft words, consoling her. He knew he’d fucked up tonight, in their relationship. He hadn’t communicated the way he needed to and he played games, but he thought that it would get a different reaction. His intentions weren’t to hurt her. Selfishly, stupidly, he assumed it hadn’t phased her. That she was just angry and not upset. 

If she’d give him another chance he’d fix it. He’d make sure to open her up a little more, make her feel more safe. Reign in his flirting, make sure he was just polite instead. He’d never put their relationship in jeopardy again. “C’mon. Come with me, to my room.” Standing up, he pulled her along with her. It said a lot about her right now that she wasn’t fighting, letting him lead her to his room with her hand tucked in his own. Her face was downcast, making sure no one could see that she’d cried as Harry took the key from his pocket and undid the lock. He really didn’t want strangers in his room.

It was still the same. His navy bedspread and Nirvana posters on the side of his wall, his desk slightly messy with a leftover fast food cup sitting next to his water bottle on his night stand. He’s gotten it for her, because she got thirsty in the middle of the night. 

What really got her attention was the framed photo of them that was right next to it. Her soft smile and his wide one, teeth out as he held her in his lap. His flannel was around her and his hat was backwards as he snuggled her. It had been cool that night but there was a bonfire, not enough seats and a handsy Harry ready to make his lap her throne. Her throat tightened as she looked at the photo, dropping his hand and wrapping her arms around her body to self soothe before she walked up to it. 

“Why do you still have this up?” Her voice was shaky still, looking down at the happy memory. 

“Because I still love you. I told you.” Hands were placed on her hips as she was brought into him, hugging her from behind as he unwrapped her arms and threaded their fingers together. “I know I’ve been shit. I’ve been… impatient, an attention whore, all of the insults you’ve said. But I love you. I have since day one. I’d have never cheated on you, regardless of what you may believe.” The idea of it made him feel ill. 

“Then why?” Her wavering voice made him frown. “Why did you keep flirting with people in my face? I know you said it was cause I wasn’t giving you enough compliments but I didn’t know you thought that.” His heart nearly snapped in two when her voice broke. “I thought the world of you. I was so proud to be with you and then… I thought you just didn’t like me anymore. I know…” A deep inhale was felt as her tummy lifted both of their arms. “I know I can be a little cold or quiet, but I had no idea you felt neglected. I pulled back because you kept talking to other girls how you used to talk to me and… I didn’t feel like it was okay to.”

It made him feel worse. Hearing this now. Y/N had broken up with him and he’d been hurt, his pride making him sneer at her and the nastiness was even more uncalled for now that he knew. Y/N wasn’t a bitch, she wasn’t unfeeling- she didn’t feel safe. He’d done that to her because he was the little bitch here, not giving her the safety she needed in order to open up. While they should’ve been continuing growing, he got his feelings hurt and made it impossible for her to feel like she could give those things to him. 

“I’m sorry.” His voice was weak. “I’m sorry. I’ll keep saying it. I didn’t mean it. I promise, nothing I've said is true. I wanted to wind you up, I wanted to fuck you because it was the only way you’d get close to me again. I never intended on making you feel unsafe with me, fuck. That’s the last thing I ever wanted. Makes me feel sick to hear that.” He nuzzled against her neck, placing a kiss there before pulling away, unwrapping them and sitting on the edge of his bed. Y/N wasn’t fighting him, so he gently tugged her to sit on his lap, this time facing him. “There she is.” A sad smile lifted his lips, thumb wiping away the streaks of mascara that had flaked off with her tears. “Still so pretty when you cry, even if it breaks m’heart.” 

It was worse than a kicked puppy. Y/N wasn’t a huge emoter so knowing that he’d done this had made him wonder what she did alone. How many other times he’d made her cry but she wasn’t solid enough around him to do it in front of him. 

“You broke mine.” She whispered, looking down at his shirt. “I don’t mean to be a bitch. I was just scared.”

“Oh, sweetheart.” He swallowed the lump in his throat. “Let me fix it. Please?” Holding her face in his hands, he got her eyes back on his. “Let me make it better. I won’t do any of that ever again, I’ll communicate better… Just let me make your heart feel safe again.”

Y/N knew she was a sucker for this. She shouldn’t say yes. Every part of her except her brain was screaming to stay, though. While her head was telling her to run away as fast as she could, her heart thudded in her chest and her body wanted closer to his own. It was a decision she may come to regret, maybe she’d hate herself for it, but she couldn’t let go. “O-Okay.” She whispered, feeling his head fall against hers. “Please don’t break my heart again, H. I can’t do that again.” 

“I’d rather die.” 

His lips were pressed against hers, and moved quickly from there. 

One of the things that never lacked with them as a couple was sexual chemsitry. It’s what had them so obsessed with each other at first. The best way to get Y/N to express herself was when she was full of cock or close to the edge of orgasm, which was why Harry had no problem saying his apologies between her legs. 

“M’sorry, baby.” He crooned, licking over her drippy slit. “So, so sorry. M’gonna take care of you.” Lips pressed kisses to her clit, a keening whine leaving her lips as fingers clutched his hair and brought him closer to her. His mouth had always been his greatest gift and biggest curse. Somehow he knew all the right things to say, all the right things to do to pleasure her but always stuck his goddamn foot in his mouth. He was going to change that now. 

Dark green gazed into hers as he took another broad lick, the tip of his nose brushing over her clit. Large hands with chipped polish wrapped around her thighs and kept them spread, his hair a mess from her hands carding through it with their hot makeout and now his time spent working on her pussy. This was undoubtable a perk of being with the man, knowing how much he genuinely loved to eat pussy. He’d spend hours licking and sucking on her, making her sensitive and cum over and over again whenever he had the chance. For his birthday he’d genuinely wanted a day inside with her where he spent the majority of his morning eating her for breakfast, her thighs his perfect earmuffs from the snow that happened to fall on the day. 

Whenever they spent time apart he missed this desperately. He’d not even tried to find someone to replace this because he knew the feeling wouldn’t ever be the same. Sure, he’d loved eating pussy before Y/N but it had turned into a full on obsession with her. No one had ever tasted as good, made as many cute noises, squealed when his mouth latched on her clit and his finger curled just right- like he was doing now, holding her bucking hips down. 

“Oh, I know, Mama, I know.” He cooed against her. “Feels so fucking good, doesn’t it? Needed my mouth on this greedy fucking pussy…” Pursing his lips, he spit over her slit and watched it drip with a hiss before usng his tongue to spread it, digits dripping down to his wrist before his tongue trilled over the swollen bud. It didn’t take much to push her over, but a well timed smack against her thigh to get her to stop squirming had done the job. A wet gasp tore from her mouth as she squeale his name, simultaneously pulling his mouth against her and trying to push him away. Using his strength against her, he made sure to lick up a bit before spitting again, leaving her pussy wet and messy as he climbed up her body and kissed her hard. 

His chin was wet and she knew he was a fucking mess but her tongue delved into his mouth, tasting herself on him. She could hear the tug down of his zipper, felt him moving and wiggling his pants down but she was too busy sucking on his tongue and reveling in his moans against her to think twice before she felt the tip of his cock smack against her cunt. 

“I’m clean, baby. No one but you, never need anyone but you.” His grip on her chin was tight as he rutted himself against her cunt. “Even when you were being a miserable bitch t’me, all I wanted to do was love on you. M’gonna make sure you never fucking doubt how much you own me again. This is the only cunt I need.” 

There was sick satisfaction that rolled through him as he slid into her and felt the stretch, watching her mouth fall open as she was filled. It only confirmed what he had hoped- she hadn’t been fucking around much, if at all. Granted, he was thick and long and it would be hard to beat him, but he knew what she felt like when she was well fucked. “Oh, look at that…” He whispered, angling her head down to look at where her pussy lips clung to his cock as he pulled out a bit. “She missed me, didn’t she, baby? Sweet pussy missed my cock so fucking much, doesn’t want me to pull away.” 

Harry was by far the filthiest man she’d ever experienced but that’s part of the appeal. He may be a bit of an asshole, but god, he knew how to fuck. How to kiss. How to make her feel special when he wasn’t being a dickhead. Moments like this always wiped that shit clean, the slate cleared and her head foggy as all she could focus on was how right he was. “Yeah- yeah, don’t take it from me again.” She growled, digging her nails into his skin. “Don’t fucking take my cock from me again, don’t make me walk away. This is mine.” 

Harry hissed, loving the sting on his skin and how she spoke. Y/N could be a fierce little bitch and he loved that about her. She hadn’t been pleased tonight and he’d taken it too far, but she was going to have no doubt how much he had been missing her. Their hate sex had been good, but their makeup sex was even better. “Never, Mama. Never, it’s all yours. You’re right.” His voice soothed, pushing back into her and reveling in how hot she was. Tight. Everything he could possibly need. “It’s yours always, and I don’t want anyone else. Jus’ want you to let me love on you, make you feel good. Be my girl again. He had everything else he wanted, but Y/N was the missing link. He’d fucked up with her, but he wouldn’t do it again. Not when this was how explosive it was between them. 

“You better fucking treat me right.” Her hand held his face now. “Better be so nice to me, buy me f-flowers and hold my hand… Fuck me good, make sure all the other b-bitches know that you’re taken.” Her legs wound around him and he felt a heel surely to bruise his ass, but he didn’t care. “Don’t let them think you’re available because you’re an attention whore.”

Harry moaned at the degrading words, because they were true. He was indeed an attention whore and he’d never deny it. “Only for you, baby. Want all your fucking attention… fuck.” He hissed, thrusting slower as he looked at where they joined. “Creaming on my cock already, really must have missed me.” Noses brushed before he fucked harder into her, trying to bring her to the edge. “Fingers didn’t cut it, did they? No toy can make you feel as good as his. Know that you needed Daddy t’fuck you right.” 

Y/N let out a wail as he tugged her hips up, his face leaving hers to sit on his knees while he fucked her. He was getting the spot she needed, saying the words she wanted and she felt hot all over. Syrupy, sticky hot as she dripped down her ass as the sound of their sex filled his room. The music muffled behind the door didn’t matter, all she wanted to hear was his dirty talk and the sound of their skin. “Yes, I needed it Daddy- Fuck me, fuck me right. You always make me cum over and over…” her head rolled back on the mattress as her fingers found his wrists, grounding herself as he fucked her steady and hard. 

His eyes took in the view of bouncing tits and a messy cock pistoning in and out of her creamy cunt, breathing heavy while he felt her tighten up on him. His goal was always to make sure she came over and over, a generous lover being one of his positive attributes. “Mhm… It’s never changed, Mama. M’gonna give it to you just like that. God, you look so fucking pretty on my dick, baby. Need to capture it.” He adjusted slightly as he took his phone out, thankful his pants had only been down a few inches as he pressed record. A breathy laugh left him as he fucked into her willing body, aiming the camera down at her face. “Say hi to the camera, pretty girl.” He crooned. 

“H-Hi Daddy.” She mewled, preening under the attention. It was a guilty pleasure of hers, knowing he had the filthy images and videos on his phone. It was even better to watch it back and see just how wrecked she got from him. “You’re gonna be nice to me so you- so you don’t have to delete these, right?” He’d had to delete all the videos when they broke up, but she hoped this time they’d get to stick around forever. 

“Of course, my sweet girl. Never gonna fuck this up again… Not when we look so fucking good together. Feel so fucking good together…. Fuck, look at that…” He got a close up of her cunt as it stretched to fit him, clinging to his length. “You’re gonna cum, I can feel it.” His eyes met hers as he started to get her to the edge, her face glistening and eyes hazy. “Go on, baby. Do it. Cum on my cock, make a fucking mess.” 

Harry could feel it as she did, the high pitched whine of his name and the bite of her nails as she writhed on his cock, the camera capturing her face as she did so. Mouth open and eyes rolled back, the blissed out smile following as he fucked her through it. He didn’t stop, tossing the phone to the side as he kissed her again as his cock pulsed, trying to hold back his own orgasm. “Mmm… fuck. I love when you cum on me. So gorgeous, all mine.” He rubbed their noses together again while humping into her, her impossibly hot cunt clinging to him as he peppered kisses to her face. “But I’m not done with you yet.” 

“No?” She grinned, feeling drunk. “Should have known, you sex maniac- fuck.” She pushed his hand away from her cunt. “Give a girl a minute, fucks sake.” 

“Just got you back, can you blame me?” He smiled against her mouth, sucking her lower lip into his mouth and grazing it with his teeth. He wanted her to look freshly fucked and glowing tomorrow when she had to meet up with her friends for brunch, sure to piss them off with the news that they’re back together. “Mean it, I’m not letting you go this time. Never again.” His smirk got bigger. “Pussy’s too fucking good.” 

“Shut up, slut.” She pushed his face away playfully. You’ve got more than one orgasm to go until I think about taking you back. Prove your worth to me.” His cock could be felt twitching inside her yet again. 

“Whatever you say, Mama.” He cooed, pulling out of her regretfully. “Now, get on your knees. I’ve got to say sorry to your pretty ass.”

[cheriladycl01]

My choice - Liam Lawson x BrazilianOlympicSkateBoarding! Reader

Plot: While Liam’s fixing his cars you are always found at the skatepark with your best friend Keegan, people online start to assume there’s a little more to that friendship than friends …

It was a normal Friday, and you were in Australia with Keegan. Liam was at the track for the Australian Grand Prix watching FP1 and you and Keegan had been invited by Quadrant.

You’d met through both winning Gold in 2021 at the Tokyo Olympics and had been friends ever since. When Keegan got the offer of Quadrant he said he’d only accept if they made you part of it too.

Lando and Max had in fact met you before Keegan asked for you to be part of the Quadrant Athletes having been to many F1 races with your boyfriend Liam since 2022.

You weren’t at the GP yet because you and Keegan were shooting stuff for Quadrant with Max and Ria. You and Keegan were always goofing around trying to be better than the other one or just making fun of one another.

Your relationship with Keegan was so pure. He was one of those people that you only met once in that lifeline and you hoped to meet again in another.

You knew Keegan before Liam, so naturally you guys had more inside jokes, more banter. Whereas your relationship with Liam was everything you looked for in a partner.

He took care of you, always made sure to know your worth, and eventually (when you agreed to come to races with him) showed you the world.

But some people saw you and Keegs and thought there was more to it than just friends. And it annoyed Liam more than anything.

Of course Liam didn’t care that you were friends with Keegan and he’d never ever try to come between that friendship because he wasn’t the first one there, Keegan was. But it irked him just how hard the media shipped you too.

It got to the point where he was hard-launching your relationship once a week, again and again even though it was out there that you were a couple and had been since 2022.

“Are we finally done! I need a shower now!” You complain having built up a sweat from all the fun things you’d filmed.

“Yea, all wrapped up!” Max smiles and you pull Keegan into an exhausted hug thankful that this part of the day was over. You really just wanted to go to the track now and be with Liam.

Little did you all know but Ria filmed the hug, posting it on her story and Quadrants story to let people know that you were completely done filming with the day.

“Thank god!” You groan, trotting off to the rental car Max had and jumping in the back. Keegan in tow behind you taking the seat next to you.

“So who wants to put money in a Max Verstappen win?” You ask on the drive back.

“Nah im putting money on my boy Lando!” Keegan smiles.

“I’m being realistic and I’ll join in an say Max. But Lan to get a podium!” Max chuckles from the drivers seat.

“Mmm yeah I’m gonna also put money on Max, but Ferrari are looking good” Ria expresses and you nod, knowing people were in fact slowly but surely catching up with Red Bull.

“Oh Max! Is P gonna be there! I haven’t seen her for ages!” You complain wanting to see his girlfriend.

“Yeah she’s at the hotel now, she had a bit of a headache this morning so she didn’t come!” He says looking at you through the rear view mirror to see you pout!

You guys venture back to the hotel, getting ready before all walking to the race track having a close hotel.

“Baby!” You cry running away from the group seeing Liam say outside the RB hospitality with Daniel and Yuki.

“Hey Y/N” he says his tone a little off.

“What’s the matter?” You ask frowning and pouting at him. He never acted like this.

“Nothing” he smiles and you look at Yuki and Daniel who are doing everything to avoid eye contact with you.

“Liam…” you say and he squirms a little bit because you never used his name at all. Even if it was a silly stupid nickname like Li, or Iams (like the cat food brand) to the usual pet names.

Daniel and Yuki slowly left not wanting to be around for the growing tension they could sense.

“What is going on? I’m sorry I wasn’t here this morning if that’s why your pissy but you knew I was filming with Keegan and Max!” you exclaim thinking it must be that you hadn’t been there when he first woke up.

“Mmmm you and Keegan have fun?” He asks forcing your best friends name out with an almost grit.

“I mean - yeah? No more than we usually do…” you offer looking at him.

“Why do you care so much about Keegan today. You never normally have an issue!” You ask with all seriousness, normally you’d laugh.

Liam gets out his phone with a groan showing you the video circling of your and Keegan from Quadrants post on Twitter, so many of the comments were shipping you guys.

“Baby … you know Keegan is my best friend … and there always coming up with new weird shit! You know there’s even fanfics of us now?” You laugh but he doesn’t seem amused.

“Are you being for fucking real right now Liam! It’s the media … they spin anything they fucking can. Do you not feel secure in this relationship? Do you not trust me?” You ask a disappointed look on your face. You genuinely couldn’t believe him right now.

“Honey, what? Of course I trust you! But it just hurts seeing that people think you’d be better off with some other guy than me” he huffs out.

“Liam, look at me!” You say holding his face in both your hands forcing him to look at you.

“I chose you, all those years ago and I’m choosing you today and I’ll choose you tomorrow! You Liam Lawson are the love of my life! And I won’t have you being a mopey little baby over the media and Keegan!” You say before pulling him into a kiss, you can feel him smiling into it making you pull back and look at the new and dare you ay improved expression on his face.

“I love you” he admits holding you tightly in a hug.

“I love you too, my jealous driver” you grin teasingly making him shake his head.

y/user

Liked by keeganpalmer and liamlawson30

y/user: Skateboarding with Bestie and Fast Cars with the LOML is my lifestyle 🇧🇷

Tagged 3 People

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fan1: her and keegan are cuties … look at that date on their boards 😻

-> fan2: shes dating Liam not Keegan 😦

liamlawson30: baby why’d you put Kitty Purry on the board?

-> y/user: coz she’s a CaliforniaGurl 😝🌸

-> liamlawson30: of course she is … you’re weird!

-> y/user: but you love me! ❤️

fan3: Y/N living her best life fr. Imagine having all her friends.

keeganpalmer: it’s always fun hanging with you, my bestie 🏎️🛹

-> y/user: love you bestie 🧡🦖

quadrant:🔥 post Y/N!

landonorris: you best be in Australia little miss!

-> y/user: Keegs an i will be there! In merch DW!

-> liamlawson30: erm I didn’t agree to this … RB merch only …

-> y/user: I’ll sneak in with it Lando!

maxfewtrell: Quadrant Athletes have brought us the best duos!

Instagram Story Caption

Keegs and I living it up at the Aussie Grand Prix 🏎️🦘🇦🇺 Thank you for the invite @ quadrant / @ landonorris

Taglist:

@littlesatanicassholebitch @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @daemyratwst @lauralarsen @the-untamed-soul @thewulf @itsjustkhaos @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @summissss @gulphulp @starfusionsworld @jspitwall l @sierruhhhh @georgeparisole @youcannotcancelquidditch @tallbrownhairsarcastic @ourteenagetragedy @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @bigsimperika @blueberry64857959 @eiraethh @curseofhecate @alliwantisadonut @dark-night-sky-99 @i-wish-this-was-me @tallrock35 @butterfly-lover @barnestatic @landossainz @darleneslane @barcelonaloverf1life @r0nnsblog @ilove-tswizzle @laneyspaulding19 @malynn @viennakarma @landosgirlxoxo @marie0v @yourbane @teamnovalak @nikfigueiredo @fionaschicken @0picels0 @tinydeskwriter @ironmaiden1313 @splaterparty0-0 @formula1mount

[lovelykhaleesiii]

My Best Girl

HEADCANON

PAIRING: Best Friend's Dad!Aegon ii Targaryen x fem!Reader [Modern AU]

WORDS: 1,200.

SUMMARY: Your best friend from University, had been begging all year long for you to join her back in her home town to spend the holidays with her family. Being the loyal friend you are, you thought it would be the decent thing to do...

WARNINGS: age-gap implies (consensual & legal, reader is 18+, Jahaera aged up), innocence kink, praise kink, degradation kink, Daddy kink, p in v sexual intercourse, edging, cream pie, breeding kink (if you squint), slight dub-con, thigh riding implied, jealous!aegon, possessive!aegon, swearing.

A/N - thanks to the wonderful, talented, beautiful @valeskafics who planted this AU in my head... I have plunged deep into a dilf!Aegon rot. ily bby xx

You had no intention of ever sparking a relationship over the holiday period, let alone with an older man... That just so happened to be your best friend's father.

Jaheara Targaryen, you had fondly grown acquainted with over your undergraduate semesters in University: so enraptured by each other, she practically was begging for you to join her over the holiday period: saving you from spending a lonesome, seldom time alone on campus.

The moment you laid eyes on her beloved father, Aegon Targaryen, you felt your heart beat halt, breath hitched in your throat, and a rather odd yearning ignited between the sweet spot between your thighs.

He was a rather handsome man, you could no deny: his unique features had softened with adipose, yet his age had shown, along with whatever hardships he had faced. Scarring across his brow, beneath his eye socket, and yet he exuded a formidable presence, it somewhat intimidated you.

You struggled to even maintain eye contact, doe eyes constantly fluttering from the larger man before you, to your scuttling feet, before Jahaera dragged you away into the privacy of her own room.

You subtly attempted to pry, asking singular questions about her father, in which Jahaera would mindlessly respond with a swift response.

A divorcee, his relationship with Jahaera's biological mother had been tense from the beginning, incompatible. She did disclose he had many flings, occupied with one night stands and frequented by regular women of the neighbourhood, yet did not dare to settle, for whatever reason.

That is until, you had mindlessly wandered off venturing the opulent double-storey, before abruptly being surprised by Aegon's presence in the kitchen during the later hours of the night.

"And what might a pretty girl like you be doing wandering in the dark, hmm?"

Your mind rushing with fleeting, blank thoughts, moments later you found yourself being effortlessly lifted onto the counter top, rutting your aching, soaked cunt against his sturdy, meaty thigh, before he would taunt and tease your silky folds with his tip. Burying his dense girth inside of you, stretching your walls like no man has ever.

Since that surreal night, awake the next few days as if you lived through a vivid, fever dream: your relationship blossomed with your best friend's father, in discrete.

Aegon relished in how flustered and bothered you get, even with the faintest motions, such as close proximity, his overpowering musky scent intoxicating you with each inhale: making you weak in the knees, and butterflies fluttering in the pit of your stomach.

Regardless, of the age difference you both shared similar interests in films, attitudes and romance.

Aegon devoured your innocence: despite having been in previous relationships, your innocence in trusting him to take the lead, to protect you and be intimate with you, reinforced his belief in you.

He took you seriously from the beginning: having the decency to not treat you like some mindless, young fling.

Your vulnerability towards him, drove him mad: as he felt a responsibility towards you.

In return, you favored his wisdom, with life and in the bed. He taught you how to really please a man.

He would often praise you: admiring your beauty, your intelligence and demeanor. Although, in the end he was somewhat of a youth, relishing in teasing you, making logic cease as he fucked you senseless.

"My good, little whore so greedy for a Daddy, she took her best friend's, huh? Daddy's gonna have to punish you for that little stunt. Thinking you can come in here looking fucking ravenous."

Regardless of Aegon's intent to care, his sex and affections were rough. Manhandling you, spanking you till your cheeks remained red and raw with tenderness for days [certain his handprint was strewn across your flesh], gripping and pulling your hair with such force. He needed to instil some fear, a mutual understanding as he preferred to call it, that you could not go anywhere now without his knowledge.

When you both weren’t being intimate, he enjoyed our company, having you mount and straddle his thigh and lap. Watching him attend to work, answering phone calls, getting so riled up when he was arguing with his correspondents. You had come to realise, Aegon had a rather quick and fierce temper.

Many times, Jaehaera pleaded and fought with her father to take you out to the local city clubs both in the company of her hometown friend [males present] and without, and time after time, he stubbornly denied the two of you from leaving the premises.

Overtime, he refused the idea of you having male companions and friends.

“I know what boys are like at that age baby, they don’t want to be just friends… You’re mine now, and I don’t like to share.”

Jahaera frustrated and uncertain of his motive would excuse herself, and recluse in her room, leaving you pampered and dolled up for Aegon's own undoing.

He enjoyed watching you from afar pampering yourself: "dolling yourself up for Daddy, baby? Always lookin' so beautiful, I need to keep you running around her for my own viewing."

The moment the word slipped your vile tongue, was the moment something snapped in Aegon, that made him cement his feelings for you... Daddy.

He favored the moment, demanding you obey his every command, moaning heavy breaths for you to repeat yourself in a constant loop, directly into his ear.

He wanted you to acknowledge him as almost your savior. Considering him almost god-like which, you faintly had.

Another niche about your elder boyfriend: he purely enjoyed in fucking you raw, no protection, as he craved to feel you.

"Baby this ain't my first rodeo, I'll pull out okay. I'll get you the pill if I have to--"

"Good cause I still have two years to go, and I don't think J-Jahaera would appreciate this-"

"But your already such a slut for me, taking me so fucking well and perfect, she brought you on a platter for me, knowing damn well I couldn't resist... Surely?!"

Regardless, Aegon's attempts at hiding the affair would occasionally plunder: sending you "anonymous" gifts through the mail, of wealthy jewels, the finest material of laundrette and perfumes.

Countless times Jahaera poorly attempted to pry the truth from your sealed lips: she knew that you were seeing someone, just not who...

When it came to returning to campus: you would often exchange raunchy pictures: Aegon was poorly tech-savy in comparison to you: so a dick pic and video at most, was all he could provide.

You however, thrived off online. Sending him nude pics of yourself [this was a first], only to be showered with compliments, before Aegon would request to video call you: jerking himself feverishly as he ached to feel your tight walls swallowing his dick.

You nearly got caught by Jahaera, lurking his social media and the texts, before coming up with a reasonable excuse.

You would be the first to say "I love you" hesitant and all, Aegon however, had no shame to admit it. The words fell naturally off of his plump lips.

And so, Aegon's intent with you surpassed the theatrics of his previous licentious behaviours. He is obsessed with you!

general taglist - @chompchompluke @fan-goddess @malfoytargaryen @bibli0thecary @m1ndbrand @connorsui @elegantsplendour @randomdragonfires @sylasthegrim @arcielee @s-we-e-t-t-ea @sahvlren @watercolorskyy @hypnos-daughter-certified @urmomsgirlfriend1 @backyardfolklore @snowprincesa1 @aegonslawyer

Aegon ii taglist - @who-told-you-this-was-butter @f4ll-for-you @amiraisgoingthruit @jawline-of-steel @daughter-of-the-stars11

[bisexual-horror-fan]

"Better Story, Improved Effects." Mickey Altieri X Reader.

Soooo I was re-watching Scream 2 last week while sick in bed and something finally clicked in my brain and I realized oh fuck, I love Mickey. So shit, here we are, his first smut! I dunno where this all came from but maybe it was just lying dormant under the surface and now it’s all out here to play and I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it! Big shout out to @eggsandbeer for the title, beta reading and to her and ALSO @ace-of-clubs-and-diamonds for the help on his character and all the hyping up since this was my first time writing him.

---

Part two now here.

—

Rating. Explicit. Length. 7.3K. Mickey Altieri X FEM! AFAB! Reader. Warnings: Drinking. Cheating. You Are Randy’s Girlfriend. Shit Talking. Rude Behaviour. Manipulation. Making Out. Grinding. Dirty Talk. Vaginal Fingering. Oral Sex. Blow Job. Eating Pussy. Teasing. Banter. Orgasm Denial. Extreme Frustration. Bad Mouthing Randy. Filming. Sex Caught On Tape. Dub-Con. Voyeurism. Exhibitionism. Spanking. Masturbation. Cuckolding. Vaginal Sex. Squirting. Cream Pie. 

—

The last way you wanted to spend your Friday night was attending a party solo and thoroughly annoyed with your boyfriend, and yet here you were.

You had been looking forward to unwinding from a hectic week with Randy, some drinks, getting a little messy, perhaps a bit publicly indecent. Then that turning from a kind of foreplay of its own to hastily finding a dark corner secluded enough to hook up with a minimal, (but still a very exciting and arousing), risk of getting caught. 

But no, sadly, instead of getting to do any of that you were walking up to the party already well underway totally alone and all because Randy had other plans he didn’t bother making you aware of until about an hour ago. He bought a ticket to go see some movie he had already seen a hundred times, a fact you pointed out quickly that had him replying with equal speed, saying, “But I’ve never seen it on the big screen!”

As if that makes it all okay and would quell your negative emotions and upsetness about him leaving you behind and kicking off his weekend without you. He made some over the top, big and grand promises about making it up to you tomorrow and you rolled your eyes with an unconfident, “Uh-huh”.

It left your lips before he proceeded to try and smooth his departure with a few kisses that you barely returned and on top of that didn’t do much of anything to smooth down your ruffled feathers. He left in short order and you finished getting ready for your night out in a huff. Did you pour some extra effort into looking good so he would feel extra bad and stupid for ditching you for some lame movie? Yes. Was that just a touch petty? Also yes but who could blame you?

Soon as you pushed your way through the bothersome cluster of assholes that were all hanging out and talking in the doorway, for some fucking reason, seriously, who does that? Your first order of business was getting a drink. 

The first one went down too quickly and quietly, you didn’t leave the drink station in the kitchen and certainly didn’t talk to anyone yet. One of your hands on the countertop as you gulped down the sticky sweet mixture. You made a second drink after the first and then decided to venture out and seek something out to make you forget about Randy, at least for a little while, the living room that was filled with music and people seemed like as good a place as any to start. 

He was hoping he might see you here tonight but seeing you here alone was an unexpected treat. He’d caught sight of you the second you walked in although you did not spot him right off the hop. 

He’d been keeping his eyes on you for a while and if Meeks was here there was no way he would have gone this long without latching himself onto you, he is many things, loud, opinionated, and fucking clingy. He doesn’t think there is a single time he had seen you two together where Randy hadn’t been hanging off of you, like he needed to touch you in some way at all times or he would be in physical pain otherwise. To be fair he isn’t sure he would be much better if you were his. None of your other friends were about and your expression told him you were upset, about what he didn’t know, and would he be a good friend if he didn’t walk over and check in on you? 

You on an average day was already a treat for the eyes but on a night out like this, when you poured in that extra effort was truly something to behold. He made his way over to you, sliding up beside you, a hand tapping you on the shoulder as he asked, “What’s with the frown?”

Your head snapped up, looking to see Mickey right beside you, hand hovering over your shoulder and smile on his lips but eyes concerned. “Is my bad mood so obvious you clocked it from across the room?” You follow the question up by taking a healthy sip from your drink.

A raise of his eyebrows as he brought up his own cup, he’d crouched slightly when greeting you but standing back up to full height and with a half shrug as he said, “Well it is kinda hard to miss when blue is very much not your colour.”

You stifle a laugh into your cup before saying, “Cute, very cute.”

A grin breaks out on his face, he already got you laughing less than a minute into him walking up, this was a great sign. “Soooo what’s up?”

“Ahhhh-” A dismissive wave of your hand as you raise your cup for another sip, and he laughs, a shake of his head as he points to you, “No, no ‘ahhhh’, something is up so spill!”

“I don’t wanna bring down your night.” You say honestly.

He scoffs, “Doubt that you could do that, and what are friends for if not to listen to whatever is eating you?” 

He made a good point. Maybe if you vented and got it all off your chest you would feel better? So you give in much easier than you probably should have. A heavy sigh and you take his hand with the one that wasn’t currently holding your drink, urging him as you say, “Okay, c’mon.”

Mickey brightens at the contact that you initiated as he lets you drag him off through the glass sliding doors leading to the backyard. 

Sitting on the back patio you proceed to spill your guts, the thump of the music lessened now that you were outside, much easier to hear each other and talk properly. When you finished filling him in he was less than impressed to learn of the reason for your bad mood, what kind of idiot was Randy to ditch you like this? He was of course, nothing but sympathetic to your plight and your pain but also that not so small and sick part inside of him saw this as a golden opportunity, a perfect way to hopefully do what he had been dying to for months. He just had to play it right. 

He started easy, saying, “Wow, no wonder you are so upset.” 

You exhaled with a nod as you leaned back in your chair and that led to him following up with, “I mean I knew Meeks was a fucking idiot but this might be one of the dumber things he has ever done.” 

A small shocked laugh spilled out and it emboldens him, he wants to lean closer to you but doesn’t want to push, not yet so instead he is continuing further before you could hope to respond, “Like does carrot top have any brains at all to rather pass up a party with you for a fuckin’ movie? I bet if I cracked his skull open all I’d find is some loose un-popped corn kernels and a pool of that artificial butter schlock they serve at the theatre he is at right now.”

“Damn Mickey, tell me how you really feel.” You responded before you giggled and he said with a sure nod, “I will! Randy fuckin’ Meeks is totally fucking brain dead for doing this and you should be pissed up at him.”

“Yeah?” You ask, fingers circling the rim of your cup and he said loudly, arms outstretched, “Yes! I mean Christ! What, you don’t think he deserves just a little bit of your ire for pulling this stunt?”

He makes a compelling argument. 

He had you smiling, had you laughing and more importantly, he validated your feelings. The more you both talked, the more he decried Randy’s actions and backed you up as your second drink was finished, you felt it. The annoyance, the anger, the unfairness, you ended up telling him a few more things, disagreements and issues minor in nature that Randy had done to upset you, things you think you would be over but when a bit tipsy and upset, venting, it all comes bubbling up to the surface. 

It really couldn’t have gone better, you giving him those few more insights gave him more chances to plant further unrest between you and him. 

You felt insanely heard and listened to, and maybe it was your overall mood, maybe it was a bit of the drink, but everything he was saying made sense, perhaps Randy wasn’t that great a boyfriend, this movie thing might be indicative of a bigger problem in your whole relationship. Your head felt confused but that was lessening, the longer you chat, the more he insists Randy’s behavior is fucked up, you find it harder and harder to deny that it held weight and made sense.

All and all the conversation was around a half hour before he was encouraging you to get up, saying, “Enough about that asshole, it’s Friday night and look around, it’s a party! He’s out having fun and you should be too.”

He was right again and you told him as such, feeling less burdened, lighter and overall excited to have fun and put those awful feelings aside for the time being. “Yeah! No more moping, fuck him, it’s his loss.”

“Hell yeah it is.” You get up and the pair of you end up marching back into the party. Another drink, talking about not as heavy topics, snacks, sitting in on a card game or two, watching part of a movie that was playing on the tv, and a few hours later you were sitting almost shoulder to shoulder watching a very spirited game of beer pong. 

You’d switched to water for a reprieve and during a small lull you said to him, “Hey Mickey?”

A questioning hum that had him turning his head to look at you, “Yeah?”

“Just wanted to say thanks for this. I was feeling really fucked up earlier and if you hadn’t stepped in I woulda had a totally shit time tonight but you completely salvaged it. So uhm, thanks.” 

He smiles, a shrug before he says, “Least I can do, I sure as shit wasn’t about to let you sit around all dramatic and morose.” 

You laugh before trying to defend yourself, “Dramatic and morose, huh? I don’t know if it was that bad.”

His silence speaks volumes. 

You speak his name in a questioning and warning tone and he holds up his hand, a wishy washy and wavering hand motion as he said, “Ehhh-” 

A scoff of mock offence bracketed with a laugh and you playfully punch him in the shoulder, “You dick! I thought you were saving me from my shitty boyfriend for the night! I didn’t know I was just trading one asshole for another.” 

He plays up the impact, rubbing his shoulder as if it actually hurt and he says, “I’m just being honest, I thought you liked me when I was honest.”

“Honest or mean?” You fire back with a grin and he says, “There’s a difference?” 

“For the average person, yes.” 

All the back and forth was very fond and fun. You were feeling much better than you had been earlier by now and you suggested, “Wanna get out of here? Go for a walk?”

“Sounds good to me.” 

You had no destination in mind. Just fresh night air and more conversation. As you meander about the topic, unsurprisingly considering you were talking with Mickey, the talking turns to movies. 

“What do you mean you haven’t seen Stab?” He asked dramatically aghast, way too loud and head up towards the sky as if God themself would have the answer he seeked and you laughed, “I just haven’t!”

“Well we can fix that, no, we should fix that.” He insisted, a wave of his hand encouraging you to follow as he changed course, you turn to follow, a small jog to catch up to him, “What is it that good?”

“God no! It’s garbage.” He said with a look over his shoulder towards you as if you were nuts for even suggesting it was good. You laughed, “Right, so it’s garbage and so I have to see it?”

“Naturally.” He said with a confident nod, hands sliding into his pockets as you fell in step beside him and you say, “Isn’t it not out of theatres yet? I doubt a show is gonna be happening past midnight.”

“No worries about that, I got a bootleg.” He assured and you asked incredulously, “A bootleg of this garbage movie that you don’t like?” 

“Do you not own bootlegs of movies you hate?” He asks and you say, “No because I’m not a fucking psycho unlike my present company apparently.” 

He laughs the comment off and soon you are at his place, you had never actually been here before. It was late but you weren’t in a rush to go back to your own abode alone, leading you to step into the door he was holding wide open. Wasn’t a bad place at all and you had it to yourselves, it was slightly cluttered but clean and no off putting smells or gross dishes or garbage so hey, a big win and a leg up on many other college living spaces you’d seen in your time here. 

Your eyes wander over the space, posters littering the walls, books scattered around and other items as he puts the tape in before coming to flop down beside you with a smile, “You ready?”

“As I’ll ever be.” 

The couch wasn't half bad, there was more than enough room on it for you and him and yet you didn’t stay far apart for long. As you watched and talked, Mickey pointing out flaws and inaccuracies, jokes and riffing you and he scooted nearer, until this moment right there, where you were just about shoulder to shoulder. One of his hands was on his own knee, the other one gesturing to the tv screen as he said, “I mean have you ever seen organs look faker? The colour is totally off, the blood spray should have been bigger and this is supposed to be outside! Where’s the steam?! The inside of a freshly ripped into body should be hot.”

It wasn’t like horror was your favourite genre and you are sure it isn’t his but you could appreciate the passion he held for the craft, for authenticity of film making, you keep the mood light tease, “Oh yeah because you know just what a murder scene looks like, right?”

He laughs, hardly managing to stifle it before he says, “You don’t know everything I’ve done, I could have all sorts of life experiences you are unaware of but besides that it doesn’t take a killer to know that based off the body's internal temperature if sliced into like that-” Another point to the screen, the mangled torso with the mess of red and innards on display, “-it would steam up in the fall evening air.” 

You hum with a nod and then a line read on screen was so bad he started up again with another joke that had you laughing in a way that made it hard to breathe. He was piling on, you leaning into him fully now and then that is when his hand makes contact, again only after you touch him first. 

A simple move from his own knee to yours, both cracking up and as you come down his hand doesn’t move, instead a simple squeeze as his gaze shifts from screen to you and back again. He is wearing that sideways grin that before tonight sure made your own stare linger a bit longer than it should for a person with a boyfriend, but now? It was having a different effect. 

You’d thought about it, mostly before you got with Randy, but Mickey was a really attractive guy, you got along absurdly well and tonight he treated you amazingly, was here for you in a big way when you needed him. You weren’t even tipsy any longer, you can’t blame the feelings he was giving you on the alcohol. You were only human and him encouraging you to feel your emotions, validating them, the close proximity and clear chemistry you both had wasn’t helping this either. You were positive he was into you. 

Were you seriously considering this?

He interrupted your thoughts, “You having a good time?”

The question startled you. Not just because he spoke but what he said, Mickey was a pretty self assured guy, the question might sound insecure in nature but it wasn’t spoken in a tone that lended to that. You play along and respond, “Yeah, yeah I am. Why do you ask?”

“Oh just know that what we got up to tonight probably wasn’t what you were initially planning to.” He responded with ease, not insecure, just concerned and you sighed, he was a really good guy wasn’t he? 

“Yeah it wasn’t but that isn’t your fault it’s Randy’s for ditching, besides what we did almost all of what he and I would have anyway plus some extra stuff.”

You gesture to the screen and the movie you certainly wouldn’t have seen were it not for him. He asks next, “Well glad I could help give you a good Friday night but that almost all has me curious, what exactly did you miss out on?”

You were painfully aware of the fact that his hand was still on your knee, your eyes drew down slightly at the maintained contact, your shoulders still pressed together, your thighs touching, you leaning into him has created multiple points of contact that you were only just paying attention to now. His body was warm, he smelt good and the question he asked made your mind run back to your intentions at the start of the night, of that semi public risky fuck you wanted to have with Randy. 

A subdued shrug, so small that if his eyes weren’t locked onto you and your shoulder on his he might have missed it, “Nothing two college kids in a relationship wouldn’t normally get up to post-party.”

“Ahhh.” 

The silence that followed was heavy and tension filled and he said, his eyes moving over you in a way that could be read as more than just ‘friendly’, “Shame I can’t help you out with that.”

Fuck it.

“Couldn’t you?” The question was spoken with your gaze raised, gaging his reaction, the slight raise of his eyebrows and confusion on his features meets the small uptick of the sides of his mouth, “What about Randy?”

“What about him?”  You bite back with a casual shrug.

This was too perfect for him but he still had to play this right. An amused exhale before he reminds you, “He’s your boyfriend?” 

“And yet I am here with you, alone in your place and on your couch with him nowhere in sight.” And any remaining gap was closed by you, leaning that last bit, one hand meeting his cheek and you tugging him closer to kiss him. As soon as you made that final move, as soon as your lips met his all bets were off, this was happening, patience and hard work pays off and he can take.

The response you draw from him is immediate, a soft groan, his hands moving, finding your waist, shifting his body and adjusting his posture to better return your sudden affection. You move with him, allowing him to do what he wants, take more of the lead, something he seemed to do with a startling amount of ease, as if he expected you to not only bend but to be into it.  

You were very much into it. 

It wasn’t like what you had with Randy was bad but he was relatively inexperienced when you got together and still wasn’t the most confident without some major prompting and praise. He was a good kisser but more than that you had a great rhythm off the hop, found a solid groove with a natural give and take that seemed to feed into one another beautifully. His hands feel good on your waist, they are grounding and it drives you to want to touch him further. The thumb on your hand still cupping his face swipes over his cheekbone and you tilt his face to be closer still, a move he permits along with your other hand starting on his side before wandering up the expanse of his chest through his shirt. 

His hands slip lower, you feel a rough press of him over your hips and then his hands on your outer thighs and he tugs, a further adjustment so you are underneath him, he is leaning further forward, his body starting to cover yours as the make out hastily progressed. The need overwhelms you first, he breaks the kiss and his lips drags down your jaw and further still, kissing over your neck and you arch, squirming your hips, grinding against him and he smiles against your throat from how well this is going so quickly. 

Your fingers hook in the neck of his shirt, tangling, twisting, you pull, desperate for more contact as you grind again, he nips lightly at your pulse and you moan again, softer and so sweet, addicting for him to hear. Another few passes of tongue and of teeth that have your thighs hugging his hips and the next grind that happens is mutual, as is the breath that is caught in your respective throats. “Fuck, you’re better at this than I imagined.”

The smile on his face shifts to a grin that is outright cocky, one of his hands on your hip he pulls, makes you grind on him in a way that has your head falling back with a sigh and he asks, “Have you imagined me like this a lot?”

Your hands don’t stop wandering his body, feeling him and when you don’t respond right away, more concerned with the next move of your hips and the subtle rush of pleasure, he continues, “Thought about me being the one doing this when you’re with your shitty little boyfriend?” 

A shake of your head,  but you don’t stop, you start to tug, a silent plea for him to take off his shirt and one he gives into as you say, “He’s not that bad.” 

He is sitting up on his knees, the lack of contact makes you want to complain but the fabric is peeled away and thrown to the side and any possible complaining is forgotten about. A scoff, “Sure, yeah, he’s a real great guy, hence why you were just grinding yourself all over me with your tongue down my throat.” 

A laugh that is too light all things considered, “Shut up.” 

He listens. Your hands on his shoulders yanking him until he is against you once more, your mouth crashing into his. Your body was warm and soft, you were talking about this being better than you imagined but he was stuck with the same realisation, you were a good kisser, had amazing give and take and of course the mental aspect, you were in a relationship but ready and willing, touching him, kissing him, it had him aching in his jeans. He started to tug on the bottom of your top and you broke the kiss in a hurry to free yourself of the constraining material. The sight of you in your bottoms and the pretty lace framing you up top turns him on so much more.

It progresses quickly after that. You spread below him on your back, your tongue parting his lips allowing his into your mouth, an action he completes with a small groan his wandering hands choosing to settle, particularly one finding its home between your thighs and you arched into his touch with a hushed, “Fuck yes.” 

He lets out a pleased hum, your hands work with his, removing the remaining clothing to give him better access and when there is the last layer between you and his touch he asks in a tone that is as humorous as it is sickeningly sweet, “Am I allowed to speak?” 

A hurried nod as you squirm, his fingers brush over you more firmly and he says, “You’re fucking drenched. I don’t think I’ve ever felt someone get this wet from just a little making out, how hard up for it are you?”

“Very.” Your breath hitches and he knows he’s found the right spot to focus on, fingers swirling over your straining clit through your damp panties. “Is he not doing what he should be?”

Your brain feels foggy, you are far more concerned with the sensation starting to wash over you, limbs feeling heavier, eyes half lidded and rocking your hips with the movement of his hand, “Who?”

He laughs, “Who? You already forgot all about him? That tells me everything I need to know that poor ol Meeks isn’t satisfying you.” Before any protest or defending of your boyfriend could leave your mouth he is tugging the crotch of your panties aside and feeling the bare heat of his fingers against you makes you gasp, head falling back against the arm of the couch. 

You try to push out what you wanted to say, try to tell him, “I-I didn’t forget M’ just, ugh, distracted, you-you’re distracting.”

“Awe yeah, I’m a really big distraction, do I make it hard to think?” He asks as his fingers pick up the pace, pressing more firmly you moan and nod, “Yes! You do.”

“I could make it worse.” He teases and he moves quickly. Still shirtless, in just his jeans he is on his knees and tugging you further down the length of the couch, underwear half on, your legs over his shoulders his head dips down and his strong but soft tongue licking that first stripe over your clit has you crying out with an arch of your back. 

He did make it worse. You couldn’t think properly as soon as the make out started, your mind was far too busy with him and the taste, feeling, the pleasure, it stole all logic and sense. With his lips wrapped around such a sensitive part of you, cradling your clit and sucking indulgently, pretty mouth latched on and tongue lathing over you between his lips, fingers digging into your hips and ass as he held you where he needed, you felt like you were threatening to fall apart in less than five fucking minutes. 

Panting out his name, heels digging into his well toned back, fingers scrambling against the corduroy like material of the couch cushions as the feeling built, if he kept this up you’d be cumming against his talented tongue in about two more minutes. Thighs squeezing his head as well as your erratic breathing clues him into how close your end is and he pulls back, the wet strand of spit, the leash connecting his mouth and your clit breaks as he moves back, his fingers take over, messy circles drawn and you whine as the edge backs off from the change in pressure and technique, “How are you doing up there?”

His own voice sounded rough with arousal, the knowledge that he is into this, getting off on eating you out makes another wash of arousal soak into your brain, heart still pounding as you tell him, “Good, so good, please Mickey, keep going.”

“Keep going?” He asks, his head resting on your inner thigh as his fingers continue to dance over your pulsing clit, your tongue darts out, wetting your bottom lip, a nod as your eyebrows draw together, “Yeah, please? I was getting close, an-and your mouth is, fuck, amazing.”

He preens under the praise, “Oh is it?” He is playing dumb as his thumb comes down and he pulls your clitoral hood up, nerve dense tissue exposed and vulnerable, he blows gently and you shiver, body tensing, Christ, how were you so sensitive that even air passing through his lips felt this good? 

“Ye-yeah, I wanna cum, please, please-” And he decided to tease you further still, he leaned in, tongue out and your eyes are wide, teeth tugging on your bottom lip, desperate to feel him again, for him to keep going, to push you over the edge. Less than an inch from contact he pulls back with a sigh, “I dunno-”

Your head tips back with a loud groan as you roll your eyes, “Fuuuuck, Mickey, c’mon, I’m dying over here!” 

“Yeah? Does it hurt, yet?” He asks and you do notice a distinct ache along your swollen walls, a throbbing pain of denial in your clit steadily building and how awfully empty you feel at this moment. 

“Starting to, yes.” You bite out and he says, “Maybe I should be nice and help you out.”

“Yes, please, please be nice to me.” You beg and with your head still back, staring up at the ceiling you are unprepared when he licks over you again, the yelp that leaves you makes him snicker before he says, “Sure, I’ll be nice, I’ll get you off.”

You ramble, babble out your thanks and his mouth is back where it should be, lips locked over your clit, licking, sucking, one of his hands sliding between your thighs and two fingers delve inside to aid further, you clench around them with a stuttered moan of his name. It takes about three minutes for you to be on the edge between him working your clit and his fingers fucking in and out of you, curling just so in and out again and again. “God, Mickey, don’t stop, don’t stop, M’ almost there-”

And then he does just that.

He stops, his fingers stay lodged inside of you, fingers pressed to that sweet spot he’d found with ease but no longer moving and you want to cry, you ask in completely frustration, “Mickey what the fuck?” 

“I know, I know, I told you I’d help you out and M’ gonna, soon as you give me something.” You are looking down the length of your body to him between your spread thighs and are just about ready to agree to anything so long as he’d make you cum. “What is it?”

The grin on his face is positively wolfish, he licks again over your clit and you inhale sharply, “Nothing big.” 

“No?” You ask and another lazy lick combined with a rock of his fingers he says, “No. I just want you to tell me I’m better than Randy is and I’ll make you cum your brains out.”

Your heart drops, you shake your head, for some reason, that wakes you up, makes the heat inside you cool, you feel like that is the line, that is too far, you say, “No, I-I can’t do that.”

He tsk’s, “Shit, guess you don’t want to cum that bad then.” He didn’t stop though. He didn’t pull away, far from it, he goes back to eating you out and fingering you he just kept fucking stopping before you could cum and he kept on posing that question, your juice painting his chin. 

“You wanna admit it yet?” And you kept on telling him, “No-no, I-I don’t ha-have anything to admit.” 

It made him laugh. He had two fingers three knuckles deep inside you, right now and felt your clit pulsing in pure frustrated need in his mouth less than two seconds ago but sure, you had nothing to admit. “I can feel how hot and worked up you are, how many times have I edged you already? You are a really, really bad fucking liar.” 

“M’ not lying!” You attempt to assert but your voice wavers, “No? So I’m not better than Randy? He makes you sweat and tremble like this before he’s ever even made you cum once?”

You bite the inside of your cheek and refuse to meet his gaze. You want to thread your fingers in that stupid sexy messy hair and grind on his tongue until he makes you cum, not have this stupid battle of wills.

“Mmm, yeah that is why you aren’t able to look at me, because I am so far off base.” He sounds unbearably smug and he slides his fingers out of you and you almost break, you want to sob and plead for him to continue but he is sucking the mess that had coated his fingers and you again feel your mind going blank at the visual. 

He is getting up and his erection pressed against the denim looks like it has to hurt, he was starting to undo his pants and said once he was standing at full height, “How about you return the favour though and see if your tune changes?”

That sounds way too appealing to you especially because you could pay him back with some torture of your own and torture you do. After taking in the sight of him bare, your mouth is practically watering, he looks frankly delicious and you intend to dine happily. Your hand locks around the base and you lean in, eyes staring up at his face as your tongue makes the first pass, intent on taking in his expression and how he reacts to the movement. It is positive to say the least, the slight inhale, the tensing of his muscles, and the small curse that spills out. Your tongue flicks over his flushed tip, tasting the ample pre-cum that he had been leaking, your lips close, a chaste kiss before you begin to move down one side of his shaft, he is impossibly hot and throbbing in your grip. 

This is going to be too easy. 

Is what you initially thought but you would also be very wrong, because even as you let him breach your mouth, even as you begin to suck and take more of him in, you don’t feel in control or empowered. You feel weaker and hotter, he made you feel so fucking good with seemingly such little effort that you being able to do the same, to pull such reactions out of him makes you want consider his previous offer more seriously. 

You try to push those thoughts away as you blow him.

You gag yourself, choke on him and it makes him groan your name, his hips buck, he fucks in and out of your lips stretched around him and drool slips out, slides down your neck as you hold his hip with one hand, the other around the base of him still, hand working him in tandem with your mouth. You look up again, his eyes are still on you, on the length of him sliding between your slick lips, his neck and chest blooming red, flush from pleasure painted over his features as he pants and you squeeze your thighs together. 

All in all you used your mouth on him for around five minutes before you break, pulling him out you ask, out of breath and needy, “Fuck me?”

Randy is coming inside after going to get himself some breakfast, it’s around ten AM, sun shining and he is carrying a stack of mail and thinking about giving you a call soon to make up for him bailing last night. The movie was a good time but he missed you, he didn’t do much after the movie, came back here and went to bed basically, he thinks you will probably be up soon. He is about to sit down on the couch when something catches his eye, namely, a tape half in half out of the VCR. He comes forward, he pulls the tape out and there are no markings whatsoever on it, odd. 

He is curious enough that he thinks why not, he shrugs and pops the tape in, he walks back around the coffee table and is flipping through the mail again but what he hears gives him pause, makes him stop. 

Hearing a very familiar modulated voice greeting him, “Hello Randy. Been a while. Seems like some stuff has changed for you, like the cute girlfriend, she’s new. I like what I have seen of her, how much I have seen of her, thought you’d be interested to see what she was up to last night that I managed to catch on video.”

And the voice over cuts out and instead he is hearing your voice, gasping out, “Mickey oh my fucking God-”

He pauses flipping through and looks up and what he sees playing out on the screen makes him gasp.

The video shows a well lit apartment, the main focus of the shot is a couch, the view is from the side and bent over the arm of the couch pointing at the lens is you, not a stitch of clothing on, fingers digging into blue fabric, open mouthed and moaning, with who the fuck else but Mickey Altieri behind you. He was fucking you and seemingly you were loving every second of it, your face twisted in bliss and rocking back onto him, “Yes, yes, yes-”

“Good?” He asked with a laugh and your head pitches forward, a shaky nod and you hum the affirmative, “Mmhm!” 

“Yeah it is, fuck you’re tight.”  His hand reaches out, he grabs your hair, wraps the handful around his fist and he tugs hard, you cry out and clench down on him making him suck his own teeth from the sharp jolt of pleasure, he is pulling your hair so your head snaps back up, making sure he is showing off your gorgeous expressions for the camera. 

Little did you know that when he passed by the camera set on the counter earlier to grab his bootleg he turned it on, that it had been running this whole time. It didn’t take much to edit it, or to add the voice over or for him to sneak it into Randy’s apartment either, honestly it was too easy if anything. 

Randy had dropped the mail and was slowly sitting down, he can’t stop watching as you rock yourself back, helping impale yourself on Mickey and moaning the whole way. His hand that wasn’t pulling your hair is sliding down and the cry that tears from your throat makes what he is doing obvious, fucking you doggy style and toying with your clit at the same time has you telling him in a few more thrusts, “Shit, oh, ohh Mickey, fuck, I-I’m close again, fuck-” 

“You gonna give it up? You gonna say what we both know is true?” He prompts and you shake your head, “I-I cah-can’t, Mickey, just, let me cum, please-”

“Not till you say it.” His hand is out of your hair and laying a hard hit onto your ass that makes your back arch and finally you can’t take it any longer, your confession pours out, “You’re better than him okay?! Fuck, fuck! You’re so, so much better tha-than Randy, make me feel so good, he-he’s a joke next to you, God, don’t stop!” 

“Oh there you go, see? Doesn’t being honest feel so, fucking, good?” Those last three words are bookended by a brutal thrust, another strong move of his fingers and finally you break, nodding along, agreeing as you cum chanting his name over and over like some broken and fucked up prayer, trembling the entire time as the pleasure tears through you and threatens to make you collapse. 

“What the fuck…” Randy asks quietly as he continues to watch the scene unfold, watch as Mickey keeps railing you totally dumb and you agree with all the fucked up things he asks, drooling and telling him, “You’re so good, so much better, keep, ah, keep fucking me, please!”

“You think I’m able to stop now? Not a fucking chance.” 

He can’t bring himself to turn it off. Even as you continue to insult him, even as Mickey makes you parrot back that Randy is quote, “A shit fuck-ing boyfriend who doesn’t deserve you.” 

When you say it though it sounds a lot more broken and pathetic, "He-he's a shit fu-fuck-ing boyfriend who-who doesn't deserve meeee-"

Randy gets shamefully, embarrassingly, painfully hard as Mickey fucks you harder and harder, fucks you through another two more orgasms and a few more good position changes. Watching you ride him while he has a hand locked around your throat is hard to take, but the worst has to be when Mickey has his arms wrapped around you, fucking up into you and you are just trying to take it, legs shaking and too weak to do anything else but cling to and kiss him as he has you, as he holds you. That sloppy kiss is broken, your eyes squeezed shut as you are telling him for the fourth time since the tape started, “Mickey, I’m close again, God, yes!”

And not only do you cum, not only do you sob out his name as Mickey’s hard dick slips in and out of your well fucked hole, no, you end up squirting too, something Randy didn’t even know your body was capable of. Your moan bleeds, cracks at the edges and the man fucking you laughs, a blissed out joyful sound of disbelief, “Holy shit!” 

The amount that comes out of you is impressive, he watches as the camera picks up the rivulets of liquid as they race down Mickey’s shaft and his sac and the quickly darkening stain under the pair of you as he doesn’t relent even for a moment. Mickey kisses you, deeply, sloppy and to add further insult to injury, after you are coming down from your orgasm, he breaks that same kiss he initiated and asked, “Randy ever make you squirt like that?”

And you laugh, eyes rolling back and a shake of your head as you breathlessly admit, dumb and cock drunk as you tell him, “No way, not once.” 

The tape doesn’t even stop there, it goes on until Mickey is the one warning you minutes later of his impending orgasm and it is like you become possessed, your hands lock behind his neck, a burst of energy, motivated, you ride with abandon and Mickey doesn’t even have to ask, you are too far gone, you are the one who begs, “Cum inside, don’t pull out!”

He should get up.

He should turn off the tv.

He should take out the tape and smash it to bits but no, he does none of those things. He watches helplessly as Mickey’s hands grip your hips so hard Randy bet’s they will bruise as he holds deep and unloads inside of you. Mickey let out a groan of your name and you shiver and Randy is sure you can feel every pulse of him as he fills you. 

The come down is sickeningly and stomach turningly intimate, he feels as if he is intruding on a private moment even though you are his girlfriend. He watches the kisses passed back and forth, the soft touches and he is about to wonder when the tape WILL finally cut when he hears that mocking voice of Ghostface again, “Pretty hot, huh? I think they make a good couple, what about you Meeks? You enjoy the sequel?”

And the screen goes black.

He sits there staring at the tv set for all of thirty seconds before he gets up and goes over. He doesn’t hesitate to hit rewind. He should talk to you, confront you about what happened, what this means, what you did but when the tape finishes rewinding he doesn’t do that. 

He takes his original seat and frees himself from his pants and guilty enjoys the second of what is sure to be many viewings with his dick hard and hot in his palm.

[insanityclause]

EXCLUSIVE: Oscar-winning producers See-Saw Films (The King’s Speech) are gearing up on Tenzing, about the inspirational life of Sherpa Tenzing Norgay and his summit of Mount Everest in 1953 alongside fellow outsider New Zealander Edmund Hillary.

A search is currently underway to cast the lead role of Tenzing Norgay who will star alongside BAFTA-nominated Tom Hiddleston (Loki) as Sir Edmund Hillary, and Oscar winner Willem Dafoe (Poor Things) as the English expedition leader, Colonel John Hunt.

Tenzing comes from filmmaker Jennifer Peedom who has the exclusive rights to tell Tenzing’s story via his family and has a close relationship with the Sherpa community after making acclaimed documentary Sherpa.

Script comes from Oscar-nominated Luke Davies (Lion) and producers are Liz Watts, Emile Sherman and Iain Canning for See-Saw Films, alongside Jennifer Peedom and Luke Davies. Executive producers are Simon Gillis, David Michôd and Norbu Tenzing.

Tibetan born Tenzing Norgay, alongside New Zealand mountaineer Edmund Hillary, both outsiders on a British Expedition, defied insurmountable odds to achieve what was once thought impossible, reaching the summit of the world’s tallest mountain, Mount Everest. After six previous attempts, Tenzing risked everything for one final venture. He had to navigate treacherous politics and perilous weather as he embarked on the most significant climb of his life. Through it all, he did so with humor, warmth, and generosity towards his fellow climbers, but also deep reverence and respect for the sacred Mother Goddess of his Mountain, Chomolungma.

This will be one of the hot projects at next week’s Cannes market where Rocket Science will be handling international sales in partnership with Cross City Films, See-Saw’s in-house sales arm. UTA Independent Film Group and Cross City Films are co-repping the U.S. sale. We understand filming is being lined up for spring 2025.

Peedom, known for her intimate portraits against epic landscapes, including documentaries Solo, Sherpa and Mountain, said: “I could not be more thrilled to be bringing Tenzing Norgay’s story to the screen. I’ve been working towards this film my whole career, and I’m incredibly grateful to Tenzing’s family for entrusting me with it. I am excited to work with See-Saw Films and our amazing cast to bring this story to life. Tom Hiddleston and Willem Dafoe are two of the most generous and talented actors in the business, so pairing them with our brilliant Himalayan cast is going to be electric. I have no doubt this film will resonate widely. We all have our own mountains to climb, and this film shows us what human beings are truly capable of.”

Producers Emile Sherman and Iain Canning added: “We are so excited to embark on this exhilarating ascent led by one of the most inspirational directors we’ve encountered, Jennifer Peedom. Her award-winning experience in the world of high-altitude filmmaking, alongside her unique relationship with the Sherpa community and her masterful storytelling skills make her the perfect director for this film.”

Norbu Tenzing, son of Tenzing Norgay, commented: “Jen is somebody who has earned the respect of our people, understands the community, and is deeply immersed in our culture. She’s a great human being and someone that we trust, and she has had a lifelong interest in the story of my father Tenzing Norgay. I am delighted that she has taken on this project and can’t wait for the world to see who my father was.”

Hiddleston is represented by UTA, Hamilton Hodell, and Johnson Shapiro Slewett & Kole. Willem Dafoe is represented by WME, The Artist Partnership, and Circle of Confusion.

[runningfrom2am]

Can we get a blurb where an accident happens on set and drew has to do cpr on reader who he’s been secretly dating for a while?

thank you for this request omg!! and i thought this was so perfect to post for drews birthday :') i miss him

wrong place, right time - d.s.

pairing: drew x fem!reader

wc: 1.5k

tags/warnings: fluff, hurt/comfort, injury but not violence, idk no one dies and its not very descript so its p safe

requests (currently closed- feel free to send whatever but it will be a while before I get to them!)

nav/masterlists

Drew is watching from behind the cameras as you film a scene he's not meant to be in just yet, sitting against a wall on the top deck of what will eventually be known to the audience as The Coastal Venture.

It's been a fun day as far as filming goes, but very long. He's tired, and he can see that you are tired too. He sips on his third cup of coffee, watching you film your scene. Right now, you're helping Cleo pull the cross which is hanging from the crane.

You're looking over your shoulder, camera's zoomed in close on you while you're supposed to be keeping an eye out for Rafe. Standing guard for who is meant to be your on-screen boyfriend, anxious about the act of betraying him. If Drew didn't know better, he'd believe your expressions. You're incredibly talented, and every chance he gets he'll watch you film your scenes. He can only do that so often, though, without it drawing any suspicion. After all, your relationship was kept only between the two of you for now.

Drew watches as you're given your queue that Rafe will enter, and you turn fully. He'll be filming that scene after his break, so he starts to pack up his snack and downs the rest of his coffee. He's distracted when he hears a loud crack, followed by gasps and a loud thump. His head quickly turns, and you're laying on the ground, the cross on its crane swinging above you as chaos breaks out on the ship.

The fake cross wasn't particularly heavy, but with the wind picking up and it's height dropping due to someone in the crane messing with the controls at just the wrong moment, it ended up swinging right into the back of your head.

"Y/N!" Drew can't hear a single other thing anyone is shouting as he's shoving past crew members to get to you laying on the deck. "Y/N? Hey! Talk to me!" He calls out, turning you onto your back and grabbing your face in his hands. You're out cold, that's clear.

"Shit... shit! Okay, uhm..." He's talking to himself now, leaning down to press his ear to your chest. Listening desperately through the commotion to try and hear a heartbeat but he can't make one out, and he has no hope of finding a pulse on your neck or wrist with such shaky hands.

"Okay, come on Baby, wake up." Drew mutters, consequences be damned as he's quickly rolling up his sleeves. He places his hands on your chest, taking a breath before pumping as much of his strength as he can into you, over and over again, hoping to bring you back to life.

He pauses, leaning down again to try and hear if you're breathing with his ear to your lips. Again, nothing. "Come on, Love, you've got to wake up." He mumbles, going back to compressing your chest. Just a few seconds at a time, before leaning over again and pressing his lips to yours, blocking your nose to try and breathe the life back into your lungs. Just a few times. Just four times and then back to your chest.

The cast is ushered away from reach of the swinging cross which is now being hoisted up and out of reach, leaving them all huddled together behind the commotion. "Is she okay?" Madelyn asks, hands clasped to her chest.

"She's gonna be fine." Chase replies, chewing the inside of his cheek. "She's fine."

"Did you guys hear it? I could hear it." Rudy whispers, voice shaking as he's wrapped in a towel from the plunge he just took into the ocean filming his own scene. "It was like... this awful crack. No way she hasn't broken something."

"Dude, shut up." JD says, shaking his head as they all try and see what's happening. More than a few tears have fallen between them, shock wearing off as they realize the gravity of the situation. You still haven't woken up.

People are yelling at Drew but it all sounds so different- his tunnel vision is on you, ignoring even the tears rolling down his own cheeks as he keeps repeating the cycle. Ten pushes on your chest, five breaths. Is he doing it right? He doesn't even know.

"Baby, come on, wake up... You have to wake up..." He says, hoping by some miracle that you'll hear him. Where the hell are the paramedics?

Just as the panic is fully starting to set in, exhaustion nowhere in sight, you gasp, lifting your arm slightly to try and grab your boyfriends attention. The stabbing pain coming from seemingly everywhere in your head was keeping you from speaking, just allowing you to squint your eyes shut as your hand hits his forearm.

"Y/N/N? Hey, you're okay... I'm right here." Drew says, finally being able to breathe as he gently pushes your hair out of your forehead.

Just then, since it didn't take them long enough, the on-site paramedics reach your side, joining Drew as he kneels next to you.

You can't even open your eyes as they're wrapping your head, putting something in your arm, and moving you over to what you assume is some kind of body board. Drew holds your hand the whole way, and by now, realization has dawned on not only the rest of the cast, but the crew as well.

"Are they together?" Carlacia asks, watching as Drew clings to your hand on the stretcher as you're moved. "Did I miss something?"

"No." Madison answers, shaking her head. "You didn't miss anything. I didn't think they were, I knew they hooked up once ages ago but that's not really how you treat a hookup, is it?"

"They hooked up?" Chase chimes in, tearing his gaze from you as this new information dawns on him.

"How is that relevant right now? She's dying!" Madelyn spits, eyes blotchy and red. "If you didn't know you weren't meant to know so don't talk."

"Good girl, you're doing so well..." Drew mutters to you, pressing a hand to your cheek as they move you. "You've gotta stay with me here. Can you open your eyes? Can you try?" You just groan, the light from the sun beating down on you too intense to open them more than a sliver before you black out again.

You wake up in the hospital, head pounding. Your whole body aches, you only know where you are because of the bright fluorescents and the sterile smell. Blinking your eyes open slowly, trying to adjust to your new environment.

"Y/N/N? Hey, are you waking up?" Drew is there. Of course he's there, and he's quickly standing up and once again pushing your hair away from your face. It really wasn't in your face anyways, he's spent the last six hours being so finicky with everything in your room that there was no chance of a limb remaining untucked or a hair being out of place. He had nothing better to do than distract himself, waiting for you to wake.

"Hi." You mumble, trying to sit up.

"Woah, wait, lay down. Just relax, okay Love? I'll get the doctor. I'll be back." He promises, dropping your hand to leave.

"Wait, wait..." You call out weakly. He's quick to stop and look at you again. "I'm okay. Just, can you stay for a minute?"

Drew nods, returning to your side. You just need a minute before you're bombarded with doctors, and possibly people with questions. You didn't want to face the world, for now, you just wanted to face him.

"What happened..?" You ask after a moment of him staring at you like you were about to evaporate into dust.

"Uh..." Drew clears his throat, giving a slight shake of his head as he rubs his chin. "There was an accident. You got hit in the head, it wasn't your fault."

"Where are we?"

"Duke."

"Am I... Am I okay?" Hesitation is dropping from your voice and he nods, squeezing your hand in between his before lifting it gently to kiss your knuckles.

"Just a concussion, bruised ribs. Luckily no breaks. The concussion is serious, though, from what they can tell. They're gonna keep you, I think. The doctor will have more answers than me." Drew explains. "Can I grab them for you?"

You shake your head slowly, weary of the pain already pulsing through your skull. "No. I just want another minute with you. Before everything is real again."

Drew nods again. "Of course. I just-" He sighs, dropping his head. "Thank god you're okay. You scared me so bad." He laughs slightly. "I just about passed out over you."

You smile, avoiding the urge to laugh. "Must've been a sight. Wish I could have seen it."

"I wish no one had to." Drew chuckles, rubbing his eyes. "By the way, bad time to tell you this, but I may have outed us; at least to the cast and crew. Legal will probably be calling."

"God, Drew. I'm so disappointed." You tease before quickly reassuring him. "It's fine, it doesn't matter."

"As long as you're alive," He agrees. "I couldn't care about anything else less."

taglist: @bookishbabyyy, @madelynie, @whore-4-drewstarkey, @slut4drudy, @winterrrnight, @totalswag, @sadfury, @fullfledgedemo, @rafemotherfuckingcameron, @urfaveluvr, @chenslucy, @hxnnah-397, @s-we-e-t-t-ea, @tahliac11, @saccharinesammie, @rafeoccasionally, @ietss, @maybankslover, @redhead1180, @suzyheartsrafe, @wpdailyminimeta,  @rafegirly, @thelomlisrafecameron, @thatsthewaythechrissycrumbles, @flonkertn, @whtvrrafe, @r1vrsefx, @frxcless, @ari-nicole, @@urmooniee,

[quinncupine]

Pumpkin Pranks

I thought it would be fun to write a little silly fic featuring teen Eri! and her Halloween pranks.

Relationship: Izuku Midoriya X Reader

Word Count: 800

QUINN'S MASTERLIST

"Hey Honey," Izuku walked through the door and lazily slipped off his shoes. "I'm home."

Silence greeted him, but he knew that couldn't be the case. You said you'd be home all afternoon, getting everything ready for tonight's party. He could still smell the lingering sweet scent of whatever you had decided to bake.

"Y/N?" He ventured into the kitchen, eyeing the plate of steaming pumpkin cookies that just begged to be eaten. "Hello?"

Still no response. Maybe you stepped out to get some supplies?

His stomach rumbled as he neared the plate. There was no time to eat lunch today because some villain thought it would be a good idea to rob the bank just down the street from his agency. Needless to say, things were handled quickly, but he still had to fill out paperwork over the event during his lunch break.

Those cookies sat there, mocking him, in all their pumpkin spicy glory, just waiting to be eaten by one rather hungry hero. Surely you wouldn't miss just one cookie? A quick glance around the empty apartment and he grabbed one off the top.

A warty goblin's face popped out from behind the cookies with a loud "BOO!"

Startled, Izuku dropped the cookie with a yelp and crashed into the counter behind him.

On the other side of the island was someone wearing a little gremlin mask, cackling. She removed the mask and nearly doubled over as she tried to catch her breath. You popped up next to her, hand over your mouth as you giggled through your fingers.

"Eri!" Izuku sputtered, face red as he tried to compose himself. "When did you get here?"

"Y/N picked me up from school." Eri finally managed to taper down her chortles and grabbed a cookie. "You should've seen the look on your face! And I got it on film! Kota's gonna love that."

As she laughed, you plucked the cookie from her hand. "Ah-ah, no sweets before dinner. Now, go wash up. Mirio and Aizawa are going to be here soon."

Eri pouted but set down the mask and headed for the bathroom. When she passed Izuku, she tackled him in a quick hug and then sprinted down the hallway.

You took a bite out of the cookie with a wink and sauntered around the island where your husband smirked at you.

"So, you picked up Eri?" He grabbed the cookie from your hand, or tried to anyway.

You pulled it out of his reach with a giggle and instead gave a sneaky kiss in its place. His hand snaked around your waist to pull you close and deepen the kiss.

"What happened to no sweets before dinner?" He asked once he pulled away, tasting the slightest bit of pumpkin on his lips.

"Ah, you're right," you sighed, hovering just above his lips and turned away. "No sweets then."

He only tightened his grip on you and tucked you firmly into his arms with a grin. "I suppose I can make an exception." He laughed and kissed you sweetly.

"Hey, is that a cookie!" Eri said behind you, hands on her hips.

Surprised, you both jumped away from each other. She smirked as you both blushed pink from being caught by the teen.

"It is!" She marched over and crossed her arms. "And what exactly were you two getting up to,hmm? In front of a poor innocent child, I might add."

"Innocent my butt," you muttered, not able to hide your exasperated chuckle. "Fine. One cookie. Don't tell Aizawa." You locked your pinky with hers.

She snatched a cookie off the pile and took a large bite. "Bribery? Not very heroic, Y/N."

"Says the one who's eating said bribe. What's with all this hero talk, huh? I thought you wanted to be a doctor or an awesome nurse like me?"

"I haven't decided yet," she chewed thoughtfully. "But maybe if I get another cookie, I could see the possibility of looking into medical school."

"She's been hanging out with you too much," Izuku tittered, glancing between the two of you. "She's turning into a mini you."

You crossed your arms, "And what's so wrong with that?"

"Yeah, what's wrong with that?" Eri mimicked, a mock scowl on her face.

He froze as he stared at the double glare leveled at him and raised his hands slowly. "…This is a trap. I'm just gonna go take my shower now."

Izuku escaped before he incurred any more wrath, and as soon as he disappeared, you both broke into laughter.

"Hey, do you think we can scare Mirio when he walks in? Oh, what about Dad?" She picked up the mask with a menacing grin.

"If you can manage to scare Aizawa, then I'll give you twenty bucks."

"You're on!"

[cloveroctobers]

FAMILIAR — Guero [September Prompts] 🩶

A/N: because I kinda miss him + idk what’s going on in the Mayans tag since I haven’t checked it in awhile and this song appeared on my shuffle—that I forgot that I loved lol—and I don’t think I’ve written anything messy surrounding Guero so here you go…don’t tell my therapist 🤪

S/N: Gave Guero a government name like in one my other fics for him but switched the first name this time—I think I saw this name drop from another writer before as well so if you’re reading this please let me know lol! Also let me know which one you’re feeling better for him, Javier or Gustavo?

PROMPT ADDED FROM HERE & I’m using: ²⁸⁾ dark lipstick smeared on a cheek.

WARNINGS: language ofc + underlining innuendos?

ﾟ ⋆ ﾟ ☂︎ ⋆ ﾟﾟ ⋆ ﾟ ☂︎ ⋆ ﾟﾟ ⋆ ﾟ ☂︎ ⋆ ﾟﾟ ⋆ ﾟ ☂︎ ⋆ ﾟﾟ ⋆ ﾟ

Doing a double take a few spaces away from the front desk, lets you know that your eyes were in fact not deceiving you. It was like the buzzing in your ear overshadowed the low sad 80s track that belonged to Dionne Warwick. The overdone ringing on the bell snapped you out of it, hands tightening onto the set of papers that were already in your hands. The obnoxious ringing of the bell, made you quickly close your eyes and take a deep inhale before you put on your professional face.

You step closer to the front desk, placing the papers down and shot your hand out to rest on top of the man’s to stop his assault on the bell. “Good afternoon,” you gave your award winning smile that would make anyone weak in the knees, “welcome to The Monolith, are we checking in?”

Guero’s face abruptly pulled away from the woman that was nuzzling the tip of her button nose right against his. Once his eyes settled on your hand on his and then attached it to your face, you watched him gulp and flicked your eyes back to the girl who looked awfully familiar.

Like looking in the mirror really.

“Uh yeah, it should be under—

“Bardales or Guero?” You quizzed, almost snatching your hand back from on top of his and shifting to find his reservation on the computer down below.

He clears his throat, “Guero.”

You nod, a smirk playing on your lips as you went to work wanting this to be over and fast. He’s awkwardly glancing back at your mini you, who’s also staring at him oddly with his sudden change in moods; with her hand still intertwined with his before she turns her attention back to you.

“Excuse me, I know this is a long shot but did you ever live in Tucson?” The woman asks you as you move your eyes back to her.

She really did look like she could be related to you with just a few minor physical changes…which almost made you want to laugh. It was really funny because the bitch—sorry—the girl was some type of influencer. How did you know that? Well let’s just say she’s liked a lot of your pictures on the gram when you and Guero were either going through your disagreements and even when you both officially called it quits! The other version of you even liked a tiktok of yours before you put it right on private. After that? She later filmed a tiktok of herself getting her hair done just like yours!

It was borderline creepy once you had the time to connect the dots.

“You know what?” You place a hand on your hip, “I actually did. Even grew up there!”

Guero exhaled, just waiting for you to expose your history but you were playing right along. There was no way this woman was that much of airhead and didn’t recognize you. You had suspicions whenever you and Guero had your disagreements, he was always venturing off to some party to get wasted until he was ready to have a solid conversation that didn’t involve yelling. Staying out all night was his answers to coping and he knew how much it irritated you because the last thing you wanted was if something bad happened to the other, you didn’t want the last memory to be a shitty one you know?

“Wooow! See I knew it, babe! She just gives that vibe you know?” She grinned up at Guero who just hummed and forced a smile on his face.

You laugh with a shake of your head before turning your attention back to the computer to finish the process of checking the two in. They were staying for the weekend and unfortunately you were working this entire weekend, filling in for a co-worker who was a brand new dad and the other who normally worked weekends was down with the flu. Being understaffed was the norm these days but you really had to give props to the restaurant workers and bartenders in this hotel, the locals were a different breed that’s for sure. And not many people came out here to this copper mining town so you often had to take in the strange like a shot of tequila.

“Why Jerome?” Guero wonders.

Jerome, Arizona wasn’t your first choice—your friends tried to talk you out of it—nearly begged— but honestly you didn’t have a first choice yet you knew you wanted to stay in Arizona and thanks to a generator brought you here permanently.

You sigh, “I got tired of a lot of things in Tucson …the scorpions started to almost be infested where I lived and I didn’t want another scare but that’s a story for another time!” You winked at the tatted man before continuing, “Also I dropped out of school and living off savings wasn’t cutting it anymore so I got a job…far enough away where the job opportunities are somewhat better. That’s all I wanted, change and I got it.”

Guero didn’t have to read very hard between the lines to get where you were coming from. It wasn’t easy by any means, he loved a good chase and you happened to be his best one, yet not every relationship was going to be a walk in the park. Your father didn’t like him whereas his mother loved you. Guero or as you knew him—Gustavo—always felt like something was missing from his life so when he reconnected with his father, that’s unfortunately where your relationship started to falter even more.

Yes you had disagreements before Guero began to rebuild his relationship with his father. You wouldn’t point the finger at just that, you actually got along with his dad well. He always said you’re the one that would take Guero’s (yes he joked that once Guero had his eyes set on anything and decided to stick with it, he turned into the exorcist) spinning head and keep it on straight. Mostly your fights were over stupid little petty things, Guero was more independent when it came to financials being a stable tattoo artist before he got sworn into the Tucson charter whereas you always had backup from your own parent(s). Guero felt like you picked his mother’s side in his decision to be part of the club but his confidence in the club and his father made him boastful. Guero loved a good argument but once you weren’t trying to hear anymore, he was definitely going out to party with or without you.

He’s never cheated on you regardless of how it looked right now, he absolutely believed in a faithful union and although you said you needed a change…you weren’t exactly thrilled for him to be part of this brotherhood. With his new girl, who was very flashy online but sickeningly sweet in personality she wasn’t down his neck about what he did because she had her own shit to focus on. Not that you didn’t, considering you’ve been in school for what felt like forever but he wasn’t down to hear your disapproval.

It felt controlling at times.

“So…you’ll be staying with us for two nights and checking out on Sunday. You’ll be staying in the king guest room number five which is located on the upper floor. Here are some brochures that explain a little bit of the history of this hotel and town along with things to do.” You hold out the pamphlet which the woman happily takes and begins flipping through like it’s a vogue magazine, “I’ll just need your ID since we already have your payment on file and then I’ll send you two lovebirds off to enjoy the romantic getaway you booked.”

The woman sighs dramatically as she loops her arm with Guero’s as he digs through his back jeans pocket for said ID, “it’s her birthday and I thought it would be a nice change of scenery.”

“Yeah everyone’s looking for that lately.” You pluck the ID from Guero’s fingertips to input into the computer.

Guero huffs, “can’t be mad at that right?”

“Course not,” you mutter before putting your famous smile back on as you hand him back his card, “You two are all set, we hope you enjoy your stay here with us at the monolith. If there’s anything else we can do to make your stay more comfortable, please don’t hesitate to ask any of our staff.”

He notices how you didn’t mention them asking you for help but he bites back saying that out loud.

Guero’s new girl bounces on her toes, “oh this is going to be so cutie! Thanks girlie!”

You try not to cringe and manage to keep that smile on your face, even when Guero burns his dark eyes into your frame. Once they turn to leave with Guero’s duffel bag and her handful of bags that he’s mostly carrying, you let the smile drop with a roll of your eyes. Putting your back to the front desk you turn to see your manager peeking out from the back office ajar door.

He asks just based on the expression on your face, “Everything okay?”

“Peachy.” You say but thanks to having a good work relationship with your manager, who surprisingly wasn’t an asshole—although he looked like it with his magician mustache, waves you in to talk about it if you wanted.

It had to be about thirty minutes when you’re hearing the bell ring obnoxiously again. You knew you should have went out to enjoy your lunch because when your manager came back in to tell you that Guero wanted your, “assistance,” no matter which way he tried to persuade that you were busy and wouldn’t deal with him hounding his staff, you picked up on Guero’s irritation quickly once he let this drop from his mouth:

“What’re you her fucken sugar daddy or something? I wouldn’t think so with that shitty mustache. Trust me, she prefers facial hair much lower.”

That’s when you pushed the rolling chair back, the chair slammed against the wall as you dusted off the crumbs from your fingertips. The noise caught Guero’s attention as he craned his neck to try to see you.

“I knew she was back there, fucken bozo.”

You stepped out, running your tongue over your teeth as you gently placed a hand on your manager’s shoulder, “Mr. Bardales, I’d really appreciate it as much as my manager would, if you would refrain from making a scene.”

“I wouldn’t have to if this motherfucker wouldn’t have lied to my face.” Guero points at your manager who just sighs.

Your older manager already deemed Guero as being one of those difficult customers after learning just a little of what you shared.

You pat his shoulder, meeting his eyes to let him know you were fine and would handle this but that didn’t stop him from glaring at Guero on his way by, which made Guero raise his middle finger at him in response.

“Are you finished?” You clip, “you don’t think I get a break here?”

“Clearly you need a break dealing with a whack place like this.” Guero shrugs while he moves to rest his elbows on the counter.

Yet he picked this whack place to bring his new fling for the weekend? Make it make sense!

You roll your fingers around, “so what? What can I do for you since you’re down here showing your ass? Want to upgrade to the penthouse suite, which is on the adjacent building—

“No,” Guero interrupts with a shake of his head as he picked up a pen to rack against the counter, “I came down here to see what’s up with you?”

“Pardon?”

“Cut the shit,” Guero says your name with a scowl, “what’re you really doing out here?”

You start to feel your blood simmer, “where do you get off questioning me? You want to start shit, well let me talk my shit. How long did it take you to find my look alike, huh?”

“What?” Guero sucks his teeth, “she doesn’t look anything like you.”

“That bitch looks like she could be my half sister, stop it.”

You tried to cut back on using that word but sometimes old habits die hard.

Guero laughs with a drop of his head, “listen to yourself, sounding like you’re jealous that I’ve moved on.”

Did he though?

“Please, I doubt you’re truly happy. I never thought you would have gone for an influencer type of chick but…to each their own.” You start shuffling some papers.

Guero glared at you now, “that would make you happy huh? Me being fucking miserable.”

Your eyes burn into his now, slightly turning to see the dark lipstick that’s smeared on his cheek, “I meant what I said when we last saw each other, that I hope you get whatever you’re looking for and I thought that wasn’t me.”

“Are you serious? Once we finally got together…I never pictured anyone else. I wanted you, only you and I had you but I guess it just wasn’t enough then.” Guero shrugged, his shoulders then slumping just a bit but his jaw was still set.

Puffing out a breath you respond, “well now you got it…for however long this time. If there’s nothing else I can help you with in this moment then…I wish you both well.”

“Wait,” Guero grips your wrist, which your eyes peek down at before meeting his face once more, “…I just need to let you know…it’s probably always going to be you but in order for me to get that out of my head—

“You need to accept the things you can’t change?”

Just like you did. You think to yourself.

“Who says I can’t?” Guero argues with a furrow of his thick brows.

You pull out his first name with a scrunch of your nose, “I’m not fucking you Gustavo, uh uh that’s out.”

He laughs, running his thumb over your skin, “as much as I love your enthusiasm about spending a hot steamy afternoon with me that you’ll never forget…I just needed to be honest and ask…is there someone else for you?”

You blink but lean forward with Guero letting his eyes trail to your lips for a split second, “There could be. Maybe he’s in this whack town somewhere, who knows? Do you want me to let you know when I find them?”

“Fuck you, didn’t you block my number?”

“I did.”

“…why am I feeling like we’re not gonna cool?”

You tilt your head to the side, “I’ll say this, fuck you too and this will be the last time I think it or say it. You want to take up so much space in my mind but the thing is…you haven’t since I left. Clearly I’m still on yours rent free and forever got your heart according to you, so maybe I should be flattered?”

Guero’s eyes tighten at your words but he can’t lie and say his boy below wasn’t feeling something. You step back but Guero yanks on your wrist so that you’re almost bending towards him, “say what you want but I know you miss me.”

Cackling with your head thrown back, you wipe at the dampness by the corner of your eye, “What’s there for me to miss? It’s over. Oh and tell my twin that she needs to aim behind your ear next time, that was always your favorite spot right?”

Guero let’s go of your wrist and you move to fix your blazer just as he’s jumping over the counter to grip both sides of your face to smash his soft plump lips right against yours. His hips dig into yours as he shoved you back against the wall, mouth battling against yours followed by moans.

That’s what he thought about doing but by your words and body language, he knows if he pulled that, he would probably have to catch your hands first. So he’s stuck watching you walk away this time, that professional smile on your lips was deadly but he didn’t just watch you leave without chunking the pen at the wall once you’re no longer in his view.

Leaving a mark that contrasted against the paint and matched what he felt in his chest.

ﾟ ⋆ ﾟ ☂︎ ⋆ ﾟﾟ ⋆ ﾟ ☂︎ ⋆ ﾟﾟ ⋆ ﾟ ☂︎ ⋆ ﾟﾟ ⋆ ﾟ ☂︎ ⋆ ﾟﾟ ⋆ ﾟ

(Possibly) continue with my September anthology prompts here.

[liquidorcard]

Only tangentially related but your Harley Quinn post made me so glad that whenever I watch any Batman media, it's with my friend who can point out and explain all the references and Easter eggs. He's really excited for the next RPat Batman movie because of the amount of things set up/teased in the first one (I also really appreciate the first film because of the focus on Batman as a detective, rather than the action).

Also only tangentially related, but every day, I'm a little more grateful that The Venture Bros. is a show about a sad old man and his beautiful and horrible boys. There's nothing there to appeal to Lily, I don't have to worry about her half paying attention and giving the worst takes imaginable about my favorite show.

The 2022 Batman movie is my favorite live action theatrical release yet.

I try to not imply that there's one TRUE Batman interpretation since one of the things I adore about Superheros is that, like Greek myths, they've become so ubiquitous they become excellent means to explore concepts and ideas through many different lenses. A sort of conceptual shorthand, if you will.

"The big three" DC heros have been sort of softly canonized in the comics for a while as representing hope (Superman), truth (Wonder Woman), and justice (Batman.) Out of all three of those, justice is the one with the most baggage to it BY FAR.

I understand why people love the Nolan movies-- but I don't. I don't for a lot of reasons. Yes Heath Ledger's performance was incredible, given all the more weight considering what happened to him soon after-- but a trilogy is more than just one legendary performance. More than Nolan's obvious technical skill with the craft of film making. I take issue with a lot of things with the film, but one of the major ones ideologically is how fundamentally uninterested the films are at challenging the idea of justice. It takes it as a given that Batman (as a representation of justice) is good, that justice corrects the fundamental issues it tries to, and you shouldn't question it. You shouldn't look at it too close. More so in the Dark Knight Returns than the other two, but. Christopher Nolan is very much a romantic in his film making-- and if that's your jam, cool. It's not mine.

Tim Burton wasn't overly critical of Batman as a symbol of justice either, but his films operate more on a kind of fable-ish logic and it doesn't bother me nearly as much. He's a more stylistic filmmaker who likes to tell simple stories through mood and atmosphere. I like that about them, but I'd prefer something more psychologically engaging.

The Batman was the first theatrical love action release I felt really took the time to tease out what it really MEANS to be the symbol of justice. It's why Batman's rouges' gallery is so full of more complex, psychologically challenging enemies. It's why so many Batman stories have him sitting and lamenting the choices he's made. Why he's the darkest superhero archetype. There should be something . . . Disturbing about him. Like, you're unsure if he's really a hero at all sometimes. That possibility that this is all a big cope should be this miasma that flavors all his actions. To me, that's the good shit.

Also, I'm fucking ADORING The Peguin show. Hilarious Lorch was bitching about writers drawing from "the same four comics" with Batman when I think this is the first time we've seen even a loose adaptation of The Long Halloween, outside of the video games taking some mild inspiration from it. It's not really the sort of content you could put in a kid's show outside of a wink and a nod.

Not to be horny on main, but Cristin Milioti is CAUSING ME SOME FEELINGS as Sophia Falcone.

(Oh yeah I suppose Gotham kinda sort of did Long Halloween too. So much insane shit happened in that show I completely forgot about it.)

[tenzingfilm]

In a big deal that closed in the days leading into this week’s Cannes market, Apple Original Films has landed worldwide rights to Tenzing, the new package we told you about last week starring Tom Hiddleston and Willem Dafoe.

The question we asked today was whether the U.S. buyers would come to play for the Cannes market projects and we have an answer already.

Oscar-winning producer See-Saw Films (The King’s Speech) is producing Tenzing, about the inspirational life of Sherpa Tenzing Norgay and his summit of Mount Everest in 1953 alongside fellow outsider New Zealander Edmund Hillary.

A search is underway to cast the lead role of Tenzing Norgay who will star alongside BAFTA-nominated Tom Hiddleston (Loki) as Sir Edmund Hillary and four-time Oscar nominee Willem Dafoe (Poor Things) as the English expedition leader, Colonel John Hunt.

Tenzing comes from filmmaker Jennifer Peedom who has the exclusive rights to tell Tenzing’s story via his family and has a close relationship with the Sherpa community after making acclaimed documentary Sherpa.

Script comes from Oscar-nominated Luke Davies (Lion) and producers are Liz Watts, Emile Sherman and Iain Canning for See-Saw Films, alongside Jennifer Peedom and Luke Davies. Executive producers are Simon Gillis, David Michôd and Norbu Tenzing.

Rocket Science was handling international sales in partnership with Cross City Films, See-Saw’s in-house sales arm. UTA Independent Film Group and Cross City Films were co-repping the U.S. sale and brokered the Apple deal. We understand filming is being lined up for spring 2025.

The project was being touted to buyers as having a budget in the $25M range. We hear it skews more intriguing character piece than an action-packed Everest-type but there will be a number of climbing sequences.

Tibetan born Tenzing Norgay, alongside New Zealand mountaineer Edmund Hillary, both outsiders on a British Expedition, defied insurmountable odds to achieve what was once thought impossible, reaching the summit of the world’s tallest mountain, Mount Everest. After six previous attempts, Tenzing risked everything for one final venture. He had to navigate treacherous politics and perilous weather as he embarked on the most significant climb of his life. Through it all, he did so with humor, warmth, and generosity towards his fellow climbers, but also deep reverence and respect for the sacred Mother Goddess of his Mountain, Chomolungma.

Peedom is known for her intimate portraits against epic landscapes, including documentaries Solo, Sherpa and Mountain.

[pennedbylisse]

Individual Analysis of A Quiet Place: Day One

so so grateful for the reblogs and interactions <3

SPOILERS AHEAD!!! SPOILERS AHEAD!!! SPOILERS AHEAD!!!

Few films (or media, for that matter) manage to captivate me or make me feel as deeply as this one did. I say this as someone who sat through the ending credits with tears streaming down my cheeks and a stinging lump in my throat threatening to undo itself into a sob.

What makes this film so special is the way it managed to achieve this even with such scarce dialogue, such little background information of the characters during the exposition.

I believe this is due to a highly skilled cast and compelling narrative. The way LUPITA NYONG'O and JOSEPH QUINN projected emotions through the screen with nothing but a quivering hand, a watering gaze, hesitance to speak when given the opportunity to, had me in awe (I literally lost all interest in my concession snacks, becoming so enthralled in their performance). But the performance skills were not limited to the starring actors, and, rather, extended into the acts of ALEX WOLFF and DJIMON HOUNSOU.

It really made me sit there in the theatre and recite in my head "This is it! This is why I love writing! It's so powerful. So beautiful. It's the only thing that makes sense to me."

I’ll make this quick! I’ve got school assignments due at midnight.

If I don’t take this brief moment to vomit my thoughts out, they’ll be gone forever.

Analysis of character:

SAM

A character crippled by a terminal illness, on Hospice services with no hope of surviving. She's come to acceptance with her fate: death. The irony, the interesting twist, though, arises when she is forced to consider the possibility that death will be quicker than she'd been counting down towards, and be delivered via a different medium than she'd steeled herself for from hearing countless of specialists.

She's only got months to live, we, the audience are reared into believing. It is alluded through her Hospice membership, heavy reliance on chronic pain management as opposed to treatment, the flashing alarms at the Hospice facility indicating the death of a fellow member likely in her condition, and her writing tone. This fact makes it the more interesting to watch this character escape from death by the hands of the "aliens" time after time after time. Perhaps she is not ready to face a death that differs from that which she's prepared herself to accept. Perhaps she's not ready to die before she gets that one last glimpse of home (the jazz bar, the pizza parlor and memories of her deceased father). Or, perhaps, most probable, Sam didn't die early on in the film because she had a purpose to fulfill - in my interpretation, she was pivotal to the survival of Eric, and catalyzed his evolution from a scared, lonesome, helpless character into one that is strong enough to venture into the unknown world with the hope of surviving.

A trait that weaved in and out, entirely through the narrative was Sam's kindness towards strangers. It is shown when she first visits the city, during the marionette show; she speaks softly at the curious child seating in front of her, tells him the cat's name, reassures his parents that the child is no nuisance. Then again, when she finds two stranded kids by the fountain, offers them food she'd bought for herself, and attempts to guide them towards evacuation. Then again, when she takes Eric under her wing, steers him away from the edge of dissolution into panic. Oh! and how could I forget the numerous times she risked her own life to save the cat!

ERIC

Found him comical, endearing, sweet and lovable.

My first impression of him was that of someone who doesn't know how to exist alone. Doesn't like to be alone. Doesn't know how to follow his own volition, because he's rather used to having orders barked to him by his superiors - it is implied his parents forced him into law school.

He's likely never had an opportunity to secede from all the orders and just exist for himself so when he's catapulted into a world where literally it's everyone for themselves, he freezes, stammers, and clings to the nearest form of refuge (the company of Sam and cat).

My impression of him being a constant people-pleaser, and dependent on extrinsic validation/orders became solidified when Sam instructs him to knock the door to her apartment down during the storm. The stakes are obvious: agonizing shredding and death. Yet, he proceeds to do as he is told. Under the rain, he speaks when instructed to, despite being at risk of...you got it, death. For someone who verbally states he "doesn't want to die," he sure places himself in situations that almost negate that believe. Perhaps it is because he doesn't have an internal sense of self (yet). Perhaps because he is selfless.

Throughout the film we see him face challenges, see him evolve into someone who faces his fears - from the scene in the drowned subway, to the lone mission for meds, to retrieving the cat from the "alien" nest. In the end he takes this big leap into the sea, which in itself could be a metaphor; willingly jumping into the unknown instead of stalling at the dock and waiting for death.

HENRI

He's a leader, a strong patriarch with authority. Don't believe me? The first scene we see him in, he's ordering his son to stop bothering the lady (Sam). The next scene, he's got his hand over Sam's mouth, ushering her to silence before allowing her to join the rest of the refugees.

He's a man with responsibility. Keep his family safe. At first his family was just his wife and son, but then, perhaps it extended to encompass all who relied on him to maintain order in the refugee site. No one truly nominated him, he just assumed the position out of his own strength of will and duty.

So, it is in this sense of duty and responsibility that he commits his first murder. It is quick, rushed, blinded by fear, when he slams one of the refugee's heads against a concrete wall to keep them from killing and dooming everyone to the same fate. He kills one to save all, and perhaps that should be heroic? But it's tainted with guilt and disbelief, this fall into immorality and the conflict can be seen play across his face (super talented actor!!).

Analysis of symbols:

WATER

salvation. cleansing. catharsis. heaven/haven. sanctuary.

Sam first encounters water at the fountain where the kids are hiding. Then, while walking towards her apartment, being followed by Eric, she dares to talk, associates it with protection, safety from the perception of the beasts. In her apartment, while it is storming, she screams, venting all of her frustrations, unfulfilled hopes, fear; the white noise of the rain and the rumble of thunder serves to dampen her commotion from being perceived by the beasts. She feels light, relieved. Eric joins in at the next rumble of thunder.

Then it is flooding the subways, and muffles their steps from the sleeping beasts. It guides their way out of the depths where the beasts sleep (could this be perceived as hell? being underground and full of monsters?). The stream ends up leading them to a church (salvation, heaven?). I think this was purposeful symbolism.

WHITE CAT

drive of survival. strength and advantage. comfort, grounding energy.

The cat is the reason Sam escapes many killing sprees throughout the film. It somehow always manages to dash away just before the creatures arrive, luring Sam out of there.

The cat is said to be an emotional support animal. It is shown being cuddled and nuzzled by Sam on many occasions of distress, and eventually by Eric, who assumes ownership of it.

MARIONETTES

Sam visibly grows emotional at the sight of the marionette boy levitating with the balloon, only for it to pop and him to collapse. Perhaps she sees it as a reflection of her life; how it turned on her so quickly, how she might have been in the peak of her success (as a poet) just before being diagnosed with a terminal illness. Perhaps it represents lost innocence, when she was just a little girl at her father's side, listening to the piano, and now it's gone, she can't retrieve it.

YELLOW JACKET

Have you ever heard of that quote that goes something like "You are mosaic of the people you've loved"? People change people. People leave traces, imprints on others. The jacket originally belonged to Sam's father, as shown in the picture at the Jazz club. Sam wears it religiously, perhaps to feel close to him now that he's gone. Before she sacrifices herself, she lends the jacket over to Eric - it could symbolize the way he'll carry her with him on his journey.

Favorite scenes: - probably the one where they are screaming through the thunder. felt very cathartic and I do believe it was the first scene in which they weren't fearful of speaking and just being human. - the leap Eric takes with the cat into the sea. to be told he is safe by the members on the ferry, the tears of relief welling in his eyes, and maybe of grief at losing Sam, too. - when Sam miraculously makes it back to the marionette theatre refuge and Reuben gives her a hug of relief, tears streaming down his face, then hands over the cat. - the opening scenes of Sam navigating the city, and the way it was implied that the city was in danger of something strange without really spanning the cameras to the threat yet. i liked that we, as the audience, first saw the treat face-to-face as the same time as our leading character, Sam. It really aids in the sympathizing. It was interesting to hear the sirens and see the flashing lights, and hear the rumble of choppers over the city whilst the camera focused on an oblivious Sam.

I said I would be quick...lol

Can you imagine what I mean when I say I'll be slow???

[kteezy997]

6 Months-Part Two// t.c.

Warnings: coming off of a sedative, cursing, abduction, very very brief mention of violence and rape (not by Timothee!)

Mature 18+ readers only please!

A/N: It’s a bit long, so grab a snack or something while you read haha

The last thing Cameron could remember was walking down an alley, and she was faced with some stranger. That was it.

Now, she woke from a deep sleep in some strange room. It sunk in that she had been abducted, and she was nearly crippled with fear. She ached with anxiety. Who had taken her? What did they want?

Eventually, she was able to get up from the bed. She steadied herself on her feet. Her vision was almost totally blurred. She blinked over and over to try and see clearly. The room was rather large, with minimal, yet still inviting decor. She found the door and pounded on it ferociously with her fists.

Not long after she first hit the bedroom door, she saw footsteps in the crack of light underneath the door. Next, she heard keys being inserted and turning in the lock. She waited for the footsteps to go back the way they came, and then she cautiously opened the door.

It dawned on her that this house was enormous. She worried that she would get lost, but then again, she had no idea where she was, or where she was going. She ended up in a room with nice furniture and a grand fireplace. The warmth from the flames met her skin, and for a second, she felt a bit of comfort.

She looked up and stopped in her tracks at the sight of a movie poster framed on the wall. It was of the film Dune.

........

Timothee put Cameron in a chair nearby in the den. She had fainted.

She woke a few minutes later. She sunk back into the chair, trying to get as far from him as she could. "What the fuck is this? Why am I here?"

"You are not in any danger, okay? I need you to believe that. I do not wish to harm you. Please just let me explain things to you."

"Get to it, asshole." she said, trembling with anger.

Timothee stood up, taking a few steps, choosing his words precisely in his head before stopping in front of the bright, crackling fireplace.

"This past year has been mentally tormenting for me. I had a failed work venture, and worse, I lost my grandmother, who I loved more than anything in the world. Everything was just piling on top of one another, and I felt like a fucking ghost floating through my life." He inhaled sharply before his next statement, "But then I saw you. It was love at first sight. It was something I had never experienced before."

"I found out who you were," he continued, "and I read your books. I fell in love with the way your mind works, Cameron. You brought me back to life. And I don't want that to go away, ever. I needed to find a way to make you mine."

Cameron sat silently in the chair, listening to him, but not growing sympathetic in the slightest. "I'm not an object. You cannot own me. You think that just because you're some hot shit little actor with millions that you can kidnap me and then I'm all yours? No fucking way, you bastard." She spit venom with every syllable.

Timothee took note of her fierceness but was not yet deterred. "I didn't think that. Which is why I'm giving you the chance to fall in love with me. I won't force it. I want you to come to me on your own, because you want to."

"But I have my own life! My boyfriend will be looking for me, I have family and friends, I have a job! You can't do this; I don't need love from you."

"Hm," Timothee took his phone out of his pocket and after a few seconds, he showed the screen to Cameron. There were explicit photos of her boyfriend with other women. "He doesn't deserve you." he said plainly.

Tears rolled down Cameron's face. She didn't even realize she was crying. It was devasting knowing that her boyfriend had been cheating on her. But the more intense feeling was the hatred she had for the man in front of her. "Fuck off." she said, before launching out of the chair and running.

Timothee took off right after her, catching her in his arms, he said, "Cameron, I won't hurt you. I won't do anything without your permission. Not until you want me." He held her firmly as she struggled with him. "I'll do anything to make you fall in love with me."

He put his hand on her face, making her look at him. "You have six months. If you don't love me by then, I will let you go."

“Fuck you!” she grumbled, running away from him again.

She made it further this time, as he was caught off guard. But his damn long legs made it easy for him to catch up and stop her.

“You should stop this.” he warned. “You don’t even know where you are. You don’t know your way around this house.” He put her up against the wall, holding her there and string dead into her fiery eyes. “I swear on my grandmother that you are more than safe. You will be taken care of.”

“My family will be looking for me.” she huffed.

“We got your phone, we let everyone close to you know that you’ve accepted a job offer in L.A., a six-month trial. You will get your phone and laptop back when the time is right.”

Cameron pushed him away, “Who is we?”

“I have people.” Timothée said.

“Mr. Chalamet, your meeting is in just a few minutes.”

They both looked over at the woman who entered the room without either of them knowing.

"Cam, this is my assistant. She will be here to help you if you need anything." Timothee said.

She was quick to speak back, "It's Cameron, I'm not a five-year-old, do not call me Cam."

Timothee grinned at Cameron, then looked at his assistant, "Take her back to her room. She needs some more rest."

Timothee departed, and the assistant said, "Okay, let's go, Miss Reese."

Cameron rolled her eyes, turning and walking in the direction in which she was being led. "You're a woman helping a man imprison another woman. How could you do that? Especially in this day and age?"

"Oh, I wouldn't think of it like a prison at all. Mr. Chalamet isn't a violent or malicious person. He has admired you for quite some time now." she stopped in front of a door, "He's a good person, you'll see." She then opened the door, letting Cameron in.

"This is such bullshit." she spat as she walked in.

"Get some rest. Breakfast will be served in the morning. He wishes for you to join him then.”

Cameron rolled her eyes at the idea of sitting down for a meal with Timothee.

......

It was mostly a sleepless night, but she managed to get a couple of hours of rest. The room was somewhat cozy and the bed was king sized and soft with a thick comforter, so it wasn't totally unpleasant.

When she opened her eyes, there he was. Timothee was sitting in a chair just a few feet from the bed, with his eyes on her. "Jesus, you creep!" she yelled at him, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. "How long have you been watching me sleep?"

"Oh, not long, like five minutes.” Timothée was evidently nervous, being with her in person was surreal after admiring her from afar for so long. “Sorry, I didn't want to scare you. I just wanted you to have your clothes and stuff, so I had them brought in. Breakfast is almost ready." he stood from the chair, "You'll smell the food, so you won't have trouble finding the kitchen, the dining room is nearby there." Timothee brushed his hands on his jeans awkwardly before nodding at her and leaving the room.

Cameron looked down at the floor, seeing a few boxes and recognizing her belongings. She figured it was of no use to protest, her family had been told some lie and she had no way of contacting anyone. She was hungry anyway. She got out of bed, picked out some clothes for the day, and got out some toiletry items to freshen up with.

Timothee was right about the food, the way it used her senses, specifically her nose of course, to rope her in the direction of the kitchen. It smelled divine.

"Oh, good morning, Miss Reese. You look nice, I'm sure it was a relief to have some of your own things?" a middle-aged woman greeted her when she arrived in the kitchen. She looked like someone's sweet granny.

"Yeah, it was. Um, who are you?"

"Forgive me for not introducing myself, dear, I'm Mrs. Davis. I'm a housekeeper-slash-chef-slash whatever I'm needed to be. I just fill in wherever needed." the older woman had a little laugh and Cameron smiled kindly. "I'll show you to the dining room. Mr. Chalamet is already in there."

Cameron followed Mrs. Davis, and was met with a full, colorful breakfast spread: eggs, bacon, biscuits, waffles, orange juice, coffee; so much food that she didn't know where to put her eyes. It felt like forever since she'd had something to eat. She was so hungry that she had to stop herself from actually salivating. Then she saw him at the end of the table.

Timothee stood when he saw her walk in. He walked down to the other end of the table and pulled out the chair for her to sit. "Please have a seat." he said, his voice was soft and welcoming.

Cameron sat in the chair, not quite fazed by his gentlemanliness. She grabbed the seat, scooting the chair in for herself. She didn't want his help. She made that clear to him.

Mrs. Davis left the room and Timothee resumed his position at the opposite end of the table. "I hope you were able to get some rest. You look-"

"So, I guess you're acting as if you're me texting all of my loved ones that everything is fine. Are they asking any questions? Are they worried about me?" she asked as she took it upon herself to start spooning some food onto her plate.

Timothee cleared his throat, "Uh, yeah I've got people working on that. Some of your friends and family congratulated you on the new job and wished you safe travels."

"You have people for everything." she pointed out in annoyance and took a bite of scrambled egg.

"That comes with having some money to hire a staff in your home."

"Too bad money didn't buy your happiness, Mr. Chalamet." she said in a snarky tone. "Then I wouldn't be here."

He chuckled humorlessly at her remark, "Well, speaking of buying things, I'd like to take you out shopping, so you can complete your wardrobe for your stay here, if you like."

"You make it sound like it's my choice."

"I don't wish to control you, Cam."

"That's not my name." she snapped, cutting him off.

He ignored her comment, continuing, "But I think for your sake, you could maybe think of this as an adventure. The more that I begin to trust you, God willing, you will get your devices back. I want you to enjoy yourself here. Maybe you could even write, I hope you find some inspiration while you're here. Sorry, I'm rambling, I know. I-uh find it hard to control myself around you."

"Are you trying to justify your actions?"

"No." he said, genuinely.

"I really hate people like you, ya know? People that think the world owes them something instead of accepting that life is a little tough sometimes-"

"I know that what I've done is wrong!" Timothee screamed.

Cameron was taken aback and silenced. It was a shock to hear him yell.

"I'm sorry." he said softly, composing himself.

She could tell then how troubled he was on the inside, it was written all over his sullen face. She could practically feel the tenseness from across the room as she noticed that his hands were balled into fists.

"I will take care of you. You have free roam of the mansion. I will have guards at every exit until I know that I can trust you. The staff and I will accommodate any want or need that you have."

Cameron remained quiet, fully listening to him. She began to think that at least she wasn't chained in a dark, cold room with no food or water. She wasn't being beaten or raped. This situation definitely was not ideal, but she realized that she had been brought into a life of luxury.

"Please, Cameron, just give me a chance. I ask nothing else of you."

@gatoenlaciudad @thebetawolfgirl @musicandbooksaremyhappyplace @softhecreator @tchalamss

@chalametbich

[birgittesilverbae]

thinking about babea au and beatrice taking ava home to mary’s apartment the first time for a movie night. standing in the grocery store with mary live-texting the ensuing Gay Overplanning to shannon

(these, softer days. shannon still trying hard to reconnect, fighting the scar tissue on her back as she moves through her bō forms and bea soft-stepping into the secluded courtyard to make light, but expressionless suggestions. bea having read about therapeutic matial arts, learning to move around injuries, the half-charred bones in shannon’s back, the times she has to take her crutches back out of the closet. shannon crying privately in the bathroom mirror when she finds two old stickers from the star wars books she found for bea in a discount store years and years ago. a sticker of darth vader on one crutch and c3po on the other. bea’s queer thinking and the articles she has downloaded on disability in sci-fi, how she’ll get cross about it if you press)

(they’re learning to love each other again)

bea in the snack aisle doing the social equivalent of quantum mathematics trying to guess what snacks ava wants. nothing with apple. does she prefer savoury or sweet or bitter or-

mary sending bea off into the attached clothing section with a €10 note to get her new socks while mary pays for €50 worth of sugar, hoping bea will be too distracted to do the easy math & guess what it costs. she could use the ocs card but she doesn’t. wants to give this to bea. like she paid for the takeout on her first at-home visit with lilith. because this is her kid on a tragic technicality.

picking ava up in one of the ocs vans and bea kind of shivering with anticipation on the way, mary swatting her with the sleeve of her hoodie while they idle in traffic like ‘cheer up. we’re not in your stupid emily dickinson poem.’

bea obligingly saying, ‘because i could not stop for death, he kindly stopped for me. the carriage held but just ourselves, and immortality.’

‘thanks, nerd.’

but it calms her, and she’s all smiles when they collect ava, an older ocs sister leaning in and tracing a cross onto bea’s forehead as she stands waiting with ava in the foyer. it’s not uncomfortable, just the blessing you give to someone much younger. for a nun it’s like saying ‘good luck.’

at home with the mound of snacks and ava laughing at it all, but summoning bea down to kiss her cheek. ‘thanks bea. for the thought.’

(ava who has so seldom been thought of in her life)

‘what are we watching?’

‘oh, whatever you want. i have most blockbusters from the last 38 years.’

‘oddly specific but okay.’

bea blushing like, ‘i was going year-by-year and then it was time for morning drills.’

they watch jurassic park because ava loves dinosaurs, and bea’s read her the novels, and of course bea’s like, ‘did you know that one day before the release of this film scientists actually published a paper about a weevil preserved in resin, whose remains offered up what researchers believed were the oldest strands of DNA ever recovered? amber can preserve intracellular structures.’

‘they really did visit laboratories when they designed some of these sets.’

‘it’s an interesting commentary on how our best human ventures can be corrupted by imagination. if we recreated dinasaurs they would look different. usually fossilisation destroys DNA though.’

‘the idea that they collected so much data on species from amber so quickly is quite outlandish.’

bea falling asleep towards the end of the movie because she’s been up since dawn. little bruise blooming on her chin from a hook kick demonstrated a little too enthusiastically by one of the trainees. mary coming in to see ava not watching the last few scenes, just watching bea in the low light, half-draped in a quilt, wearing her oversize green hoodie and pyjama bottoms.

and I'm like "No! That's the thing I'm SENSITIVE ABOUT!"

[saintmeghanmarkle]

A Little Christmas Present by u/SecondhandCoke

A Little Christmas Present Disclaimer: The stuff I share is Hollywood gossip from a relative who is an executive in the film industry. Gossip should never be taken as fact until confirmed. I share these stories in the name of fun and while they have many times been later verified, some have been woefully far from the mark. Bear this in mind while reading. -SHCSome of you asked for some gossip given that I see my relative during the Holidays. News is sparse this time of year, but he did tell me one thing: In the wake of dealing with the PR nightmare that was Omit Scobie's ridiculous book, WME purportedly called the ILBW in for a serious meeting about the future of their working relationship. She was basically told they would not have one if she doesn't stop the smearing of the Royal Family. They will not market any mem-waaaaah! from Meghan riding on the back of the Dutch translation debacle once again spelling out why she and Harry feel hard done by, and that any more venturing out on her own to push out more attacks would result in her being on her own completely. They also intimated that their working relationship maybe over regardless as she's already done significant damage to her reputation. So that's it; take it or leave it. I hope everyone celebrating Christmas has a wonderful holiday. I'm sending out virtual box of popcorn 🍿 for each of you to enjoy as we gear up to watch the 2024 season of This One & That One after the New Year. How many pictures of random uncomfortable looking Archies and Lilis will we see this year? How many donors will Archewell have? 1? -4? What illicit substances will Harry use to try to escape the reality of his horrible life?Will Meghan take so much Ozempic that she actually disappears? Will they divorce like they are always rumored to be on the brink of but never actually do? How many parking lots will Meghan stride through like a gazelle on a savannah? How will Catherine make Meghan cry this year? What the hell IS Clevrblends? All this and more in 2024. post link: https://ift.tt/yUb6wBe author: SecondhandCoke submitted: December 25, 2023 at 05:32AM via SaintMeghanMarkle on Reddit

[nitroglycerin-flavored-coffee]

His Blue Serge

Chapter 3:

When Vaggie finally gave up on pounding on the door, and just stormed into Charlie's chambers, she was shocked to find she wasn’t there. The space was much more impressive than their previously shared room. Closer to Lucifer's suite than the other residents, Charlie's room consisted of multiple rooms. The former hotel was a much less grand affair, each room simply being a guestroom that had been turned into the generic affair of plain beds and a nightstand. In the new hotel, each room had an attached bathroom, some with little entryways that held counters and sinks for residents to place their own appliances. That was what Vaggie currently had. Charlie, on the other hand, had more like a mini apartment. The entry room with the coat rack and shoe bench led to a fairly empty- yet still elegant sitting room.

There was no TV, but a large plush couch and some love seats, all perfect for snuggling up after a long day and reading a book, or just enjoying the peace. To the side was a covered desk, papers in stacks surrounding it. Large windows looked out to the front of the hotel over Pentagram City, and only after taking a step into the room did Vaggie realize the windows were truly French doors. A feature surely carried over from the former hotel, Charlie's balcony that allowed her to view her Kingdom.

Through a large archway a small kitchenette and a small parlor set, papers cover that surface as well, along with a few mugs. Vaggie didn’t get the chance to venture further in. Just as she was about to call out for Charlie, looking for the door that would lead to the bedroom, a set of hands wrapped around her shoulders.

“Ah- ah- ah…” Drew out the filtered voice. Instinctively Vaggie shot out her wings to push the assailant and give her distance, summoning her spear to her hand.

While her wings didn’t make contact with anything, the hands let go, and she swiveled to face the one who startled her. Of course, there was no one standing where she would have expected, and she narrowed her eyes in search.

“Ahem,” Alastor coughed from one of the loveseats, his red attire sticking out on the white fabric and instantly drawing Vaggies eye. “You know, It is quite rude to trespass into someone’s personal space like this.” He examined his nails, surely as sharp as ever.

Vaggie snarled but retracted her spear nonetheless. “You’re one to talk,” she growled. “What are you doing in Charlie's room?” Her stance held strong even as the radio demon dispersed in a film of shadow and reappeared right in front of her, closer than would be comfortable. She pulled her spear across her chest, a form of barrier between her and the Radio Demon.

“You know!” He laughed, ”I was about to ask you the same thing.” He leaned down into her face, hands clasping behind his back as his smile grew ever wider. “I was under the impression she wanted nothing to do with you.”

Vaggie repositioned her spear, aiming it at his face as he backed up into another chair, becoming eye level with her. “Where is she?” His being here, in Charlie's space, that only spelled trouble.

“Now why in Hell’s great realm would you need to know that?” Alastor asked as he completely ignored the spear nearly scraping his nose as the angel looked down at him. She stepped closer, holding the spear the same distance from him as she puffed up her wings.

“She’s my girlfriend! Now tell me!”

“Oh?” The lights dimmed, static filling the air as Alastor leaned forward into her spear, forcing her to pull it back to avoid pricking his face. As much as she hated this prick, she wasn’t going to hurt him unless he moved first. It would just upset Charlie. “I hadn’t noticed. You know, with her evading you at all opportunities.” He laughed as Vaggie’s wing folded up over her ears, giving away her insecurities where her face would not.

“With how she is, what was it? D o n e .” The lights flickered, and his yellow teeth and red eyes were all that were visible within those few seconds. “Surely she made it clear that she did not want your company.” The lights came back on as Vaggie withdrew her spear, holding it close to her once more as her wings betrayed how small she truly felt. They curled up even further over her shoulders and shadowed her pensive face.

Alastor leaned on his palm, fully reclining in the chair as he smiled victoriously at Vaggie. “Well dear, she isn’t here. But I do recommend you give her space.” Shadows swallowed him up, and before he fully dissipated, he finished, “Something seems to be stressing our dear princess out these days. I wonder what it could be.”

Alastor returned to his tower. It wasn’t much unlike Charlie’s in that it was more like an apartment than a hotel room. It was darker in style though. If Alastor was forced to explain the style of his suite, he’d probably say a cross of dark academia- with large bookshelves and many nooks and crannies one could park themselves on and be comfortable- and a New Orleans Voodoo museum. Scattered all around on his shelves were bottles of elixir, and only he knew the effects each would have. Boxes of herbs and a few shrunken heads.

When he was alive, he and his mother were avid practitioners of Voodoo-Catholicism. Most of it was just rituals or spiritual healing, but he found that in the afterlife, there were practical applications of some of the skills he carried with him. For example, the tea that he had been drinking before his little excursion, the very same that he had shared with Charlie.

His mother had whispered incantations of healing over them, to reset the spirit and aid with the physical symptoms of spiritual unrest. He continued this habit and found that while it wasn’t the most effective in healing large wounds, it helped with the aches that remained after receiving them. Better than any narcotic without unnecessary inhibitions. It truly did help with the tension that followed the scar that dragged from his shoulder to hip across his chest.

He may have been hiding away in his suite more often until the vulnerability remedies itself, but it’s not as if the potentially fatal blow was nothing he couldn’t bounce back from.

And poor Charlie, she had half a cup, and he had hardly begun to conjure a somnolent charm before she practically fainted on the couch. It spoke volumes about the true amount of stress she was feeling. As the Hotelier, he did his part in making sure she could truly take her much-needed break. After finishing off the last of the pot, he snuck through the main staff office and tried to put together a proper way to check in for their guests. Before they had simply moved their stuff into an empty room, which was fine for all of the two residents, but they would need to be a bit more thorough if even half the cannibals trying to check in now were committed.

Lucifer didn’t venture far from his suite often since the battle. Most trips necessary were negated by summoning whatever he needed, but the issue was that there had to be something already in existence in order to summon it. Now that most of his supplies from his old work room were gone, he took a trip out into the main area of the hotel.

Of course, he could conjure something, but that takes energy. He hadn’t been out in a minute anyway. Most of his trips were to show Charlotte what he had made or been tinkering with. He decided to involve her more after that one conversation. She had said he inspired her, and it seemed like a good start to try and build their bond back up.

He couldn’t find her though. He knew her rooms- which he had insisted on! A Princess having one of those- those cells! That the Sinners stayed in was just not it. Not cool. Not… Just not where a Princess should stay! What was he doing?

Right! Charlotte's rooms were close to his. Not on the same floor, but on the same side of the building. He thought. He might have walked right past them and not known. In fact- he walked right past them. He was sure of it. He knew because Charlotte’s room was not on the main floor. Lingering sinners, some of those dark-eyed sharp-toothed fellows had taken to lounging in the lobby. Some were scattered about and nodded to him politely.

Oh shit. He had been noticed. Acknowledged. He didn’t want to look like he was lost, he helped build this place for Dad’s sake! He squared his shoulders and took casual steps towards the front doors. If needed, he could just walk out and portal back up to his room. But he still hadn’t seen Charlotte yet! Forget whatever stupid thing he wanted before, now he just wanted to check on her. Partly because he didn't remember the exact material he was looking for- but partly because he loves his daughter and the whole point of him staying in this (admittedly tasteful and improved) Damn Hotel was to be closer to her!

He almost stumbled, almost, when he saw the bar sitting nestled in the front of the lobby. Supposedly it was also supposed to function as a reception, but this place was huge, they could put the bar anywhere. Seems silly to stick it right there. On the other hand- Booze! That can be where he was pretending to have been intending to have been wanting- wait, what do you call what he’s doing?

Getting a drink! Doesn’t matter what he may have been doing, to look like the super legit and serious king he was, he just would stride up to the front desk bar thing!

Billy- no that’s not his name. That's a stupid name. Howard? That’s not right either. The kitty cat with wings was grumbling behind the desk/bar as he slowly restocked the shelf behind him. He flinched at the clinking of the bottles together. Clearly, Husker had a hangov-

“HUSKER!” The King happily exclaimed as he walked right into and fell over the bar. He knocked down the stacked crates that held cheap liquor and stopped himself on Husker's knee. The poor sinner, now he had a hangover and a sore knee. He held his head in one hand and steadied Lucifer, still balanced on the knocked-over crates.

“Sooo-” He said, limp against the sinner's knee as he casually picked up one of the bottles he had knocked over. “Long night? Or day? I don’t know what time it is.” In response, he got a loud groan, and in sympathy, he passed the bottle over to the sinner. He needed it more than him.

Eventually, Lucifer was at a proper spot at the bar. Which was actually to the side of the check-in desk. The check-in desk was much shorter than where the seats were pushed in, which explains how his short ass was able to easily fall over it. Or maybe he was just taller than the average checking-in sinner. Yeah, let’s go with that one!

Husker was already halfway through the bottle he had retrieved and was surprisingly refreshing to talk to. He either didn’t care that Lucifer was the literal ruler and all-powerful leader of the realm, or he was just too inebriated to care or notice who he was talking to. Of course, the conversation wasn't easy to follow with all of Husker’s mumbling and swearing. But Lucifer was happy to sit and nod along as he casually held his glass of Washington Apple.

“And I was just fucking minding my own business! I don’t even know who to blame for waking me up!” Husker seemed to easily reverse the roles of the therapeutic bartender. “Can’t a man just have a single moment of peace!”

Lucifer happily sipped on his drink, careful not to embarrass himself by scowling at the burn. He was happy to let his mind wander once more until Husker scoffed and turned away from the bar.

“Here comes a headache.” He popped another bottle open against the shelf, leaving a scuff.

“Are you still drinking!?” Charlie’s girlfriend demanded as she stormed up to the bar, holding her spear towards the floor as she stomped towards them. Lucifer raised an eyebrow. She had her spear out? Her angelic spear? Those hurt. For sure, he doesn’t pity who she would aim it at. Wait, why is she aiming it at anyone?

“Is there trouble, Maggie?” He asked, placing his glass down firmly, rising from the chair as he looked around for the danger. She quickly realized why he was worried, and let the spear disperse.

“We’re all good! Sorry, Your Majesty.” She took a deep breath and wiped her sweaty hands on her skirt. It was so cute! Her little uniform. He should get a uniform, then He could match Charlie and her little girlfriend. “Just got spooked by a pest, is all.”

Lucifer wondered where the scary little person was, she was in charge of that right? She was always chasing… Something or the other! Maybe she was already on it! Speedy little thing.

Turning back to the angelic girl, He had just an absolute genius idea! “Say, Vinnie,” He started.

“Uh- Vaggie, Sir.”

“Uh-huh. Where is my Char Char? I’d love to see my little Apple Gal-ette.” He moved from behind the chair and put his hands on his knees. “Get it! Gal -ette? Galette? I- you know what I’m hilarious.” Lucifer straightened up and summoned his apple-topped cane to lean on. “So where is she?”

Vaggie’s eye hardened as she cast it downward. Isn’t it weird that her wings healed and her eye didn’t? Surely it is in her power as an angel to heal that right up. “I don’t know. She doesn’t really want to talk to me right now.” Oh, too bad. He’ll just have to keep searching on his own. Surely he won’t miss her rooms on the way back up. He didn’t see Vaggie sigh in relief when he shrugged and strutted past her back towards the stairs.

While Lucifer waved at the friendly cannibals on his way back up, Husker gave Vaggie an irritated, yet sympathetic look. She sat down instead of continuing to scold him for drinking. Husk had a feeling the girls were over for good, and a good bartender let his patrons vent.

Sorry for the weird gaps between paragraphs. It's like that from the google doc and I can't be bothered to fix it