#maybe i should just watch movies hes been in....the natural progression for me i think . ..

[todayisafridaynight]

we heard of the tokugawa song sung by mine's va (shidou nakamura ii) but have we heard of the one where mine's va sings as saigo takamori cause i think thats just great

[sweetimpurity]

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ 👻🎃 Happy October my sweets! Please enjoy and I'll see ya tomorrow for day 2!! 🎃👻. masterlist>>

cw: fingering 1.6k words. ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

“You did so well today…” Miguel says suddenly, his eyes on the holographic screen in front of him. Breaking the silence of his office except for the hum of machines and computers. You came to discuss a future mission and he’s finding the files in the computer database when he says it. Bringing you to look up at him. Lashes fluttering slightly and a warm satisfaction flooding your chest, smile gracing your lips. You worked hard as you do everyday and it’s good to know he notices. “Thank you…” 

“Really, babe. You were the exact right person for that mission and because of you, it went perfectly.” When he says it this time, he looks into your eyes. A genuine, purposeful look in his eyes. You could swear he can see you literally melting. From the inside out. “I’m very proud of you…” 

 “Thanks, Mig…” You can’t help the smile, warmth flooding your cheeks, a strange feeling inside, like pure happiness and satisfaction. Cracking your knuckles behind your back, crossing one leg over the other where you stand.

…

“I love your hair like that.” His deep voice hums and you feel his fingers on your cheek, pushing some stray strands behind your ear. Turning around to face him and that familiar feeling comes back. “It’s so pretty… too pretty…” He grins as he’s walking past you. His dark eyes raking over you and watching that smile wash over your face. Your voice a meek gentle sound. “Thank you, baby…” 

“Thank you, pretty girl…” 

…

“Amor, you made these yourself?” He smiles across the desk. The fruit-filled empanadas you made in the middle. The dessert you spent so long learning how to make. Because you know they’re his favorite. The butter layered in between, the reduction of berries and sugar to make the jam, the delicate shapes they’re formed into. Made with love and care. “Yeah I did!” You smile brightly across the table. Beaming at him. 

“I’m so impressed, baby, these look so good.” He says as if it’s no big deal. Like you aren’t squeezing your thighs together under the table. He’s been doing this a lot lately. Maybe you’re just now starting to notice. From the compliments on your outfits or how good you look in your spider suit. To the progress you make on missions, the food you make, anything you do. “Thank you Miguel…” It’s something you keep saying. Over the past few days especially. It’s like everything you do, he just loves it. And more than that, he’s letting you know. 

…

“You can pick the movie, I always pick.” You toss him the remote across the sofa. A rare quiet night in after a string of busy society days. Flopping back against the cushions, your legs draped over his lap and his big warm hands running up your calves, to the underside of your knees. “I think you should pick…” He says.

“But I always pick.” 

“Because you always pick the best ones. Every movie you pick… that’s the perfect movie.” 

Your eyes narrow at the side of his face across the couch. And then he finally looks over at you. His brow rising. “What.” 

“What is that? What are you doing?” You smile, giving him a skeptical look. To which he just shrugs. He wasn’t doing this last week. He was his same stubborn and quiet self last time you checked. So you pull your knees up, rolling up across the cushions and over to him. “That thing you keep doing…” 

“I don’t know what you mean.” He says, sighing and fighting back a smile when you climb into his lap. Straddling his lap with his hands naturally coming to your hips. His deadpan face to face with your narrowed expression. 

“You keep complimenting me and… like everything I do, you say it’s good and stuff.” You say, crossing your arms with a pout. The words feeling stupid coming out of your mouth. He’s your boyfriend, of course he’s supposed to compliment you on things you do. Is all of this just normal stuff? No one you dated in the past ever did this before. But why is it such a big deal? 

“You’re just so perfect at everything baby…” He whispers. And it’s now you’re sure he’s doing this with some ulterior motive. “You and I both know that’s not true!” You disagree with a smile, pointing a finger right at his face. “There are lots of things I suck at!” And he just leans forward, pressing his lips to the tip of your finger. “Perfect fingers too…” 

“Miguel, stop!” You pull your hand away, blushing so hard and trying to squeeze your knees together if not for the blockage of his body between them. It’s more confusing than anything. Crossing your arms again. “Perfect fingers, perfect hands, perfect body, perfect face… most perfect girl in the world…” 

Your eyes widen as the whispers hush past his lips. Your heart is starting to pound. “What happened to you? What's going on?” You ask incredulously. It’s comical. 

“There’s nothing wrong… you’re just perfection, baby…” And he just leans forward, closer. You lean back, not knowing why you feel this way. Did he hit his head too hard on the mission today? You’re not complaining but all this praise coming from your usually reserved and quiet man is shocking. His eyes trail up your body as he’s speaking. Scanning you up and down. “You like it when I talk like that, baby?” He whispers looking right in your eyes, grinning at the embarrassing blush fanning your cheeks. 

“I don’t know…” You whisper in return, pressing your cold hands to your hot cheeks and keeping them there. “You like that?” He asks again. Although the answer is obvious. “Mm…” You just hum softly, nodding with your hands on your face, as if to hide from how hot he’s making you feel. 

“You’re such a good girl… such a sweet girl…” He whispers, barely audible over the thumping of your own heart in your ears. Pushing some hair behind your ear with gentle fingers. “It’s my job to let you know, right? To let you know when you’re being a good girl…” His deep voice vibrates.

He can see how this is making you feel. A satisfied feeling for him, watching you react. He’s suspected for a while that you have a thing for being praised and sweet talked. That it’s more effective in getting your panties off than a sharp talon sometimes. Even if you yourself have no idea. Because he can feel it. The way you squeeze around him when he so much as tells you, you’re beautiful during sex. The way you’re ten times slicker when he drowns your mind with countless compliments during the deed, making you hazy. So hazy you barely remember it the next morning. You just remember how good he made you feel. It makes you so much softer, like putty for him to play with. It’s his job to please you as best he can, is it not? 

The past few days have sort of been a test. He’s a scientist after all. He showered you with compliments about anything and everything. It wasn’t hard for him. Since he really does believe in everything he said. He just usually doesn’t make a habit of saying it out loud. But knowing it gets you off was the biggest push for him to verbalize it every time. And knowing you like being good for him does things for his ego. 

…

“You’re my best girl, my pretty girl...my only girl…right baby?” His voice husks, one arm wrapped around your back to keep you in place and the other buried in your panties. “Mm! Hah Mig-” You can only sigh and moan, grinding into his hand. His palm pressing perfectly to your clit. His long fingers curling up inside you, pressing upon your g-spot over and over. Massaging your sensitive walls and feeling you gush on him. You’re just so sweet for him. It gets him hard just watching and hearing you. The soft squeaks and squeals and sighs. Your knees pressing into the couch cushions on either side of his thighs, toes curling in your socks and desperate hands raking through his hair and holding his head in your neck. Listening to the praises and words of devotion flowing from his lips right to your ear. “Such a pretty, perfect pussy, amor… so soft.”

His other hand dips into the back of your waistband. A big warm hand splayed out on your asscheek and grabbing a handful in a squeeze. Pulling urgent moans and whines from your throat. His touch is gentle while still confident and sure. This is about your pleasure after all. Two of his thick digits filling you up already, working in and out, his other hand moving down your ass and snaking between your thighs, making you want to close your thighs again. All his fingers with all their attention on filling you up and making you come. 

“Keep those legs open, baby…” He whispers, making you whine. Nudging your head to tilt back with his strong nose. His lips latching onto your throat in wet kisses, feeling you squirm, you just can’t keep still, knowing you're close. “Come on baby… be a good girl and come for me…” His words alone could get you there. To know he’s pleased. 

“Miguel I-I’m… hah!” You squeal, fingers digging into his shoulder blades, and his head pulls back to look up at your face. “That’s my girl- Oh you look so beautiful like this baby… gorgeous girl… you can come, it’s okay…” 

Your eyes flutter and roll back, a gasp of his name and you’re done for…

if you'd like to be added/dropped from the taglist please comment on my masterlist post or I might not see it! thank you!

[swiftiethatlovesf1]

Back home p.7

Hii guyss, here's part 7 of the story if you've missed part 6 here it is and if you want to read more stories here's my masterlist. Let me know what Leclerc brother are you rooting for in the comments :)

The next weekend rolls around, and you find yourself standing outside Arthur's apartment, excited for a night of fun and relaxation. Movie nights with Arthur had always been a comforting tradition, and after a hectic week, it feels like the perfect escape. You knock on the door, and it swings open almost immediately, revealing Arthur with his usual playful grin.

"Hey, you," he says, stepping aside to let you in. "You ready for some bad movies and pizza?"

"Always," you laugh, stepping into his familiar apartment. It feels cosy, warm, and so effortlessly Arthur.

The two of you settle in quickly, chatting and catching up as you start making the pizza in the kitchen. As you knead the dough, you fill him in on your week, telling him about school, your new friends, and the dinner you had with Charles, Pierre, and Kika. You’re completely unaware of how Arthur’s mood subtly shifts when Charles’s name comes up. His jaw tightens slightly, but he hides it behind a light smile, not wanting you to notice his irritation.

"So, Kika and I are planning to hang out again soon. She’s really sweet, and Pierre was hilarious," you say, rolling out the dough. "And Charles… well, you know how he is. He was so nice the whole evening."

Arthur clenches his fists behind his back, the jealousy flaring up inside him. Of course, Charles was nice, he thinks bitterly. He’s always playing the perfect guy. But he quickly shifts the conversation before his irritation shows.

"Sounds like you had a blast," Arthur says, forcing a grin as he grabs some flour and hands it to you. "But enough about Charles—let's talk about something else. What movie are we watching tonight?"

You smile, completely oblivious to his inner turmoil. "Ooh, I was thinking we could watch something funny, maybe a rom-com?"

"Sounds perfect," Arthur agrees, glad for the change in subject.

As you start preparing the pizza together, things get messy. At one point, you accidentally get flour on your face while trying to knead the dough, and Arthur chuckles, stepping closer. Before you can react, he reaches out, gently wiping the flour off your cheek with his thumb, his touch lingering a little longer than necessary. The sudden proximity makes your heart skip a beat, and for a moment, you freeze, unsure of how to feel.

Arthur’s gaze softens as he looks at you, his fingers still brushing your skin. There’s something in his eyes—something warm, maybe even a little possessive—but it’s gone as quickly as it appeared when he pulls back with a smirk. "There," he says, his voice light. "Now you're flour-free."

"Thanks," you mumble, feeling a confusing flutter in your stomach. You had moments like this with Charles too, and now with Arthur… you’re not sure what to make of it.

After the pizza is in the oven, the two of you settle onto the couch for the movie, a lighthearted rom-com playing in the background as you cuddle up next to Arthur. His arm naturally drapes over your shoulders, pulling you close, and it feels… comfortable. Safe. You’ve done this so many times before, but tonight, there’s something different in the air—something unspoken that makes you question things in a way you hadn’t before.

You lean into him as the movie progresses, trying to ignore the conflicting emotions swirling in your mind. The night feels perfect, but there’s this nagging confusion. Romantic moments with both brothers… what did it all mean?

By the time the movie ends, it’s late. You stretch and get up, fully intending to head home, but Arthur stops you, his voice soft yet insistent. “Hey, it’s late, Y/N. You should just stay here tonight.”

You blink at him, surprised. “Oh, I don’t know, Arthur. I didn’t bring any of my stuff, and—"

He waves a hand, cutting you off with a reassuring smile. “You don’t need anything. It’s just like the old times, remember? You’ve crashed here a million times before. Come on, it’s too late for you to be going home alone.”

His tone is light, but there’s a weight behind his words, as if he’s holding onto something more. You hesitate for a moment, but the idea of staying over feels natural. After all, you and Arthur had been best friends forever. What’s one more sleepover?

“Okay,” you finally agree with a small smile. “Just like the old times.”

Arthur’s grin widens, and he stands up, leading you to his bedroom. He tosses you one of his old t-shirts to sleep in, and as you change, the familiarity of it all makes you feel at ease. When you slip into bed, Arthur joins you, lying beside you like so many times before. But tonight, there’s an unspoken tension lingering in the air—one that you can’t quite place.

“Goodnight, Y/N,” Arthur whispers, turning off the light.

“Goodnight, Arthur,” you reply, closing your eyes, trying to ignore the confusing thoughts swirling in your mind as you drift off to sleep. As you lay next to Arthur, the darkness of the room surrounds you, offering a sense of comfort and safety. But for Arthur, it’s something more—something far deeper than just a simple sleepover. As he turns off the light, his eyes adjust to the faint outline of your body beside him. His heart races, but he forces himself to remain calm, even though having you here, in his bed, feels like everything he’s ever wanted.

This is how it’s supposed to be, he thinks, glancing over at you as your breathing evens out, signaling that you're drifting off to sleep. Her here, next to me, where she belongs.

Arthur’s mind swirls with possessive thoughts as he watches you, his heart pounding with the weight of his obsession. For so long, he’d been content with being your best friend, the one you relied on, but now… now it wasn’t enough. Especially not with Charles suddenly so close again, pulling you into his orbit.

Charles doesn’t deserve her. He thinks he can just waltz back into her life and win her over? The thought burns inside him, jealousy coursing through his veins. He’s had everything handed to him, but not this. Not her. She’s mine.

Arthur looks at you again, your soft breathing the only sound in the quiet room. His mind races with thoughts of keeping you close, of never letting you go. In this moment, with you in his bed, it feels perfect. You look so peaceful, so innocent, curled up next to him like you’ve always belonged there.

This is how it should always be, he tells himself. Her by my side. I won’t let anyone, not even Charles, take her from me.

He reaches out, gently brushing a strand of hair away from your face, careful not to wake you. The simple touch sends a shiver down his spine, and he pulls his hand back, forcing himself to stay calm. There would be time—time to make you realize what he already knew. That the two of you were meant to be together, that no one else could take his place.

Arthur shifts slightly in the bed, his eyes never leaving you as you sleep. The possessive feeling settles in his chest, and he vows silently that he’ll do whatever it takes to make sure you stay by his side.

This is where you belong, Y/N. With me. And I won’t let anyone take you away.

With that thought lingering in his mind, Arthur finally closes his eyes, letting sleep take over, content in the knowledge that for tonight, at least, you’re right where you should be—next to him.

Part 8

Tag list: @iamapersonwholikesunicorns, @janeh22, @victoriaholland, @abq654, @iamapersonwholikesunicorns, @anaferreira-4, @larastark3107, @itgirlofthecenturysposts, @boherahpsody, @iamkaku, @jz12, @boherahpsody

[flusteredtuna]

YES, CHEF!

Carmen Berzzato“The Bear” x !fem! reader

Contains: ( 18+ Mature Only ) praise, first kiss, head, and x-men movie.

Words: 2k+

Summary: Carmen, a good friend, shows up unexpectedly at your door late at night. Tipsy. And things obviously take a turn as he sobers up and you learn the true nature of his visit. ( no under the influence… do not fret )

I used a scene from Netflix’s series ‘Good Girls’ season 4 episode 6, as a main plot point and used the begging dialogue. I won’t name the scene as to not spoil the show ( it’s not a big plot point and the fanfic does not spoil it either. ) you can watch the clip here.

This was written for a friend 💕 ( and i had to repost due to an error ) This is also the second fan-fiction I have ever completed, so enjoy.

It’s a relaxing Saturday evening in your quaint charming little apartment on the third floor. Warm lighting, antique cabinet, quilted blanket covering your lap, and a warm homemade mug of Earl Grey tea in your hand as you read your book.

knock. knock. KNOCK.

A heavy and lazy hand knocks on your landlord’s special white front door. It’s 10 p.m., who could be knocking on the door? You un-tuck yourself from your spot on the couch and with tea in hand, you head toward the door and open it.

It’s Carmen. You’ve been friends for about a year now, friends with feelings for half that time. You met through a mutual friend, one who works at his restaurant. The relationship between you two is close and has only gotten closer with having the same friend group. But even with the tension in the room during every group hangout, he’s never made a move. And neither have you. Maybe it’s because of his girlfriend. Who didn’t show up to game nights.

And yet here he is, making an unexpected visit to your apartment.

“This isn’t my house,” he says. He smells of beer and is definitely not sober. Both his arms hold his body up as he leans in your doorframe.

“Hey yourself…” your face is twisted with confusion. Carmy never came over, at least not by himself. “Are you…tipsy? Fried? any other word for not sober?” You try to figure him out enough to make him go away before it turns into something else.

He chuckles a bit, “Just a bit buzzed”.

“Why are you in my doorway, Carmen?” You lean against the open door.

“I was at the bar, with friends. Karaoke bar.” He huffs as he finishes his sentence which seems hard to get out of his mouth.

“I don’t even know who to feel sorry for there” you respond. A look of worry mixed in with your confusion.

You stare at each other for what feels like the longest five seconds of your life. His mouth hung open a little.

“I can’t be with her anymore” You wince at his words and your heart drops to your toes. Did he just say that? Has he told her?

“You should go home,” trying to prevent something from progressing.

“I don’t want to go home” he quickly responds

“Then you should go somewhere else” You grab the door leaning away, ready to close it on him. Although you don’t want to, you know you should.

“Can I uh- just please come in?” Starting to close the door he pushes back a bit “No, Carmy. Please trust me, just go home.” He places a firm hand on the door and abruptly says, “I think I’m gonna crap myself.”

You stop and look at him. It’s unbelievable that this is what made you stop. You swing the door open and do the same with your other arm, gesturing to him to enter. He walks in, and heads for the bathroom.

Setting your tea down you sit on the couch waiting for him to come back, you try to think of anything else other than the fact that Carmen is in your home. Possibly with the intention of cheating on his girlfriend with you. Attempting to stare at the patchy rug to find some sort of escape. The goal now was to just make sure he didn’t do anything crass.

He walks out of the bathroom and immediately slumps himself on the floor against the couch right next to you. “I wouldn’t go in there for at least 30 minutes.”

Raising your brows and giggling, “Feeling any better?”

Carmen doesn’t even look at you, he just looks straight on. “Not really.” He rubs his hands together.

“I broke up with Sarah.” He says quietly. Yet another string of words that makes your heart drop.

“Oh, I’m sorry.” You try to be reassuring but you’re not sure how to be in this situation. “Do you want to talk about it?” Carmen looks at you, his eyes glossy from his buzz.

“Nah.” You tilt your head at him and then look over at the TV, catching the slight reflection of your two figures lounging on the comfy yellow couch. “Do you want to watch something?”

Carmen’s nods face towards the black screen of the TV, and you reach for the remote to turn something on. “X-men?” you suggest as he gets up and sits on the other end of the couch. One person’s width away from you.

“X-Men it is.” He slurs his words a bit as he gestures to the TV with a hand and flops it back down in his lap. Turning on the movie, you make yourself comfortable by shifting your legs to bend and your feet resting on the middle cushion, pulling the blanket over you. Even with him sitting glued to the arm of the other end, you both are still somehow too close.

As the movie passes, the tension stands. Seeing each other glancing out of the corner of their eyes now and then doesn’t help. Finally, Carmey opens up a bit and starts to comment on the movie, “You know, I don’t know why they cast Evan Peters for this when he plays that other guy in that Wanda show. Fuckin’ stupid.” He sounds more like himself now, which eases the tension, making this situation a little more comfortable.

“Yeah I think there’s a theory about that,” You both continue to talk throughout the movie, he seems to sober up. It’s nice hanging out with him like this. Although the circumstances aren’t 100% preferred, you don’t seem to mind it anymore.

The movie ended with you both laughing at a conversation completely unrelated. Whatever it was it was something way more entertaining to both of you. So long of a conversation that the credits end. You both look over to the screen again. A prompt asking “How would you rate this film?”.

“Well, I guess it ended.” You chuckle a bit but look over at him, seemingly back in his head again. Maybe you shouldn’t have said that.

Now sitting up against the arm of the couch and crossing your legs, you feel like you should say something.

“You know the best wa-“ he interrupts you “I broke up with her so I could see you.”

Your eyes meet as he looks over to you, now sitting up a bit more. “Carmy I-“ interrupting you again “Y/N, I don’t want you to feel guilty or anything. I know this is a lot,” he puts a hand to his temple and starts to get a little more passionate in his speech. Almost defensive. “Shit. I just couldn’t see you without leaving and not feel fuckin’ guilty!” His hand gestures around as he speaks, like he’s in the kitchen talking to his staff.

“Carmen!” You try to steer the conversation away from him getting louder, “Why would you feel guilty?” You know the answer to that.

He rests a hand on his lap and his other on his temple again. Releasing a deep exhale, he looks at you. “Maybe I wanted to uh-,” he hesitates for a moment to look you up and down. “Feel something…else.”

You can feel the flush rushing to your cheeks so quickly after he says this. With wide eyes and raised brows, you try to pull out your best response, “Feel what? Pressed about…Marvel casting?”

He chuckles and moves a smidge towards you, putting a bent leg up on the couch, “No no no. no. Jesus. That, that’s ridiculous.” You smile a bit at his amusement, “Then what is it, Carmy?”

Rubbing his face and letting out another huff, he sounds like he’s holding back. And you aren’t sure if you want him to keep it bottled or release it.

Continuing to look at you with starry eyes, he rests an arm on the back of the couch. “Fuck. Look. I don’t want to be too forward and I definitely don’t want to make you uncomfortable,” You press your lips together in anticipation of what he’s about to say, “It’s something that I’ve felt for a while and I’ve been fucking ignoring it.” He pauses again and takes another huff, taking a look at the door. “I should just go.”

As he gets up you grab his wrist, stopping him dead in his tracks. “Carmy,” his eyes soften as he looks at you, “you don’t need to leave.”

As you let go of his wrist he sits next to you, closer. “It’s kind of obvious.” You chuckle a bit through your words. It is obvious. You’ve noticed this tension for a while now, he’s only just confirming it.

“What is? That I like you?” His tone is almost defensive like he was caught. A smile creeps on your face, “I mean…Marcus has noticed it too.” He raises his brows, surprised. “He said the tension is thicker than his dark chocolate mousse.” Carmen laughs at this, and so do you. It’s a sweet moment.

He pushes his hair back from falling more in his face, “I uh, I’m sorry I showed up like this.”

“If you mean showing up drunk at my door to use my bathroom and then sobering up while watching X-men with me…” You make it sound like a bigger deal than it is just to tease him.

“No yea, shit. I’m sorry I-”

“Then it’s more than fine.” Laughing again, like you are the only two people in the world. You both exchange a smile looking deeper into each other’s eyes.

“You’ve always had a nice laugh.” He says putting his arm back on the couch, and leaning in a bit.

“You do too.” It all feels like a dream. The fact that he’s here, making a move on you.

He brushes a strand of hair out of your face, so effortlessly, that you wish you could stay in that moment forever.

You look away for a moment, clearly a bit flustered, “Are you sure you aren’t still tipsy?” turning back you notice he’s gotten a little closer.

“I’m positive I’m sober.” He chuckles again.

You start to lean in a bit, not realizing that you have until your noses are about five inches apart from one another. His hand was still near your face, resting on the back of the couch beside you.

Looking at your lips he begins to say, “I uh. Just-”. He doesn’t even finish his thought. He’s too distracted by his lips on yours.

It was a soft kiss, one you’ve been waiting for, for the longest time. Pulling back you find his hand on your cheek caressing it. “You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting to do that.” He says, with a breath of relief that the hard part was over.

Jaw dropped, you look at his mouth again. He catches this and charges at you for another kiss, this time more intense. You hold both of his cheeks in hopes of him staying put. He almost hovers over you as you both continue to make out.

Soft and quiet moans escape your mouth as he reaches down one of his hands to feel the sides of your arms. Then tracing back up to your cheek. He pulls back. Your lips burn with sensation.

“Carmen,” the words escape your mouth through heavy breathing, “are you sure this is okay.”

He puts a hand to your chin, “Yes.” he kisses your cheek. “I wanna take care of you.” Your brain swarms with ideas of what he could mean.

You smile in approval while taking his free hand and putting it to your breast. He smirks as he follows his hand and where it landed. “Then take care of me.”

With a firm squeeze, he touches you through your shirt, while he moves his face towards your neck and kisses it. He takes his time reaching under your shirt to explore you with more satisfaction.

Caressing your nipple with his pointer and his thumb, already making you weak. And he watches as your face curls in pleasure.

Carmen then lifts your shirt to sit just above your breasts and kisses the center, making his way over the hill of your other breast and biting the peak. It makes you gasp. He puts a hand under the curve of your other breast and messages it.

Your soft moans only make him want you more.

He moves away for a moment, and you open your eyes to watch him, “wha- what is it.” He smirks and lifts the blanket you’re under, just enough to reach his arm in to place a hand on the side of your thigh. Scooting closer he leans over you now slouched on the couch.

Suddenly you’re kissing again, passionately. He feels your thigh up and down gripping it, then moving to the inside. Parting your legs he reaches a hand up from the bottom of your shorts, under your panties to grab your hip. Like it’s his. Then firmly and slowly sliding it back out.

“Take… them off.” You whisper through kisses. Pulling away he smiles and looks at your drowsy eyes. Without saying anything he lifts the blanket further and now using both his hands he tugs on your waistband, taking away the sleep boxers you had been wearing.

Touching you again in that spot that’s so sensitive, he teases you. Denying the pleasure of having the fabric between you and his fingers, out of the way. Your moans continue, still soft, as he caresses you further. The intensity builds as your lips meet again.

Backing away, he lifts the blanket once more, but now going in head first. Your heart drops, you know exactly what he has in mind.

With his head between your thighs he kisses your soft spot, and then taking both his hands on either side of your drawers, he pulls them off revealing you.

Carmen uses his fingers to carefully open you up like a flower, kissing the bud. He’s so gentle that you do feel like you’re being taken care of.

But then you suddenly feel another sensation. His tongue is on you. Swirling around. It makes you moan louder as your back arches. Ribs reaching for the sky. You grab onto the couch to try and ground yourself, but it doesn’t help much.

“You’re so wet for me.” He feasts upon you and now takes two of his fingers and plays with your entrance, spreading your wetness around like butter on a hot skillet. His free arm is wrapped around your thigh, holding on tight to keep you steady.

As he tastes you more and more. The finest dish. You lift your end of the blanket with the small strength you have and watch his head back away from your clit to look at you as he puts two fingers inside you. He starts to push them in and out of you and you throw your head back moaning in absolute hot delight.

“Look at me.” His demand is so dominating. Again, sounding like he’s in the kitchen.

“Make me.” You say through a heavy moan. He pulls his fingers out making you gasp grabbing your chin and pulling your face down to meet his eyes. “Yes, Chef”. He chuckles a bit, letting you get away with that one. You knew he might be thinking about that during his next shift.

You watch as he goes back down, shoving his fingers back inside. Gripping the couch once again louder moans escape your mouth. Picking up his pace you can feel him hitting your walls in the best way. “Fuck, Carmy…” You manage to moan out.

The closer you get the more you surrender to his pace as it gets faster. Your body clenches around him, making it tighter and tighter for him. “Cum for me.”

You nod your head rapidly as you’re too stimulated by the pleasure. Your back arches even further and you become stiff in your position as he hits the spot so perfectly. This is what you’ve been waiting for. The peak of your gratification inches closer and closer.

Finally…you gasp in ecstasy, his fingers still inside you pounding. “That’s it.” He whispers moving away from eating you out, to just using his fingers. Watching you as you finish on them.

Carmen pulls his fingers out slowly, watching your overstimulated body heave heavy breaths. He scoots your legs to the side to lie beside you on the couch. Between catching up with your lungs you manage to speak. “Carmen, you…” You take a clarifying breath as he props himself up on his arm, looking at you as he lays beside you. “You’re really good at that.”

He chuckles, “Of course I am, I eat for a living.” He tucks your hair away behind your ear, and you both take a moment to be present as your tummy buzzes with butterflies.

[otomiyaa]

Day 28: Silence

Ember x Wade

[Miya & Mia’s Tickletober 2023] - Aaaaw I need to rewatch this movie.

Word Count: 800

Silence. Work in progress.

The simple and clear words on a sign turned Ember’s little crafting corner from a workshop into a school or library, but it was necessary. Not that it really worked. 

Ember adored Wade. She wasn’t shy about it. He was cute, sensitive, caring, and funny. But even then, there were times when she wished he could just be silent. 

"Wade, it isn't working," Ember said, interrupting Wade's monologue about how unfair it was that WindBreakers lost at yesterday's game.

Wade jumped to her aid, quite adorably. "What, what?! What isn't working?" he asked, genuinely in panic that Ember might be finding trouble with her work. Ember chuckled and shook her head. She pointed at the silence sign.

"The sign. You said you'd be silent if I put up a sign. Please let me concentrate for just a little bit. An hour, could you do that?" Ember asked. Wade stared at the sign and smiled in realization.

"Ooo. Yeah, yes or course!" 

Ember rolled her eyes fondly when Wade went to entertain himself again for a while. The silence sign was actually his own idea. He knew he had a hard time keeping quiet, and he felt bad for it. He already offered to go outside everytime Ember wanted to work, but Ember was against it. They lived here together after all. So Wade suggested Ember should then put up a sign to remind him to stay silent, so she wouldn't need to feel bad and tell him to shut up all the time, and Ember agreed with the idea. Only… it wasn't really working.

Even after literally just telling him and Wade agreeing to it, it didn't last longer than five minutes. It started with Wade humming and singing.

"Oh, this song. It's in my head since morning. Where did I hear it? Do you know this melody?" 

Ember snorted and slowly got up. She walked towards him.

"Yes, you know it?" Wade asked, and he sang again. Ember shrugged.

"I'm not sure. But I do know another song. A really good song."

"Yeah? What is it?"

"The Silence song!" Ember pounced on him suddenly, pinning him down on their cheap comfy sofa. To think that years ago she would be afraid of touching Wade, thinking fire and water would simply hurt or damage each other. By now she had learned how compatible they were. How pleasantly Wade's body would sizzle and bubble if they touched, and also, how sensitive he was. To tickling. 

"Ehehehehember whaaha! What ahahare you- hehehe!

Ember chuckled at his loud and sweet laughter and tried to keep her expression strict and smug.

"You told me to help you of the silence rule. So maybe the silence song will help you, instead of the sign," Ember improvised. Sounded like bull, but it worked.

"Whhahat sohohong?"

"This - you're singing it. A little more of this, and you might be more motivated to stay quiet don't you think?"

"Ohohoh!" Wade laughed. "I gehehehet it! Whahahah!" Ember sighed like the lovesick fool she was. Wade was just too cute and - oh. Tears, already. Wade always cried so soon from laughing. The first time Ember had been very surprised, but Wade had reassured her that this was his natural reaction to hysterical laughter and it was completely fine. So even when Wade was crying huge tears right now, she continued to tickle him and make him laugh.

During the tickling she also realized, this was who Wade was. A cute, loud and giggly crybaby who could not stay quiet, and it was Ember's very own choice to move in with him. So, she made up her mind during the tickling. She wasn't going to ask him for silence anymore. This was also where she needed to adjust, and either choose more convenient times to work, or learn to concentrate with Wade's endless chatter in the background. She stopped tickling him and watched his huge smile as he glanced up at her.

"I t-think I... think I.... cahahan't stahahay silehehent," Wade admitted adorably through soft and tired giggles. Ember smiled and leaned in to kiss his lips.

"I know. It's fine." She plopped down beside him and they snuggled together. "I can continue work later." 

Wade wrapped his arms around her and cuddled. Ah, and now he was silent. Now that they lay in each other's arms, snuggling comfortably and warmly. Ember smiled. It didn't last for longer than two minutes though.

"Hey," Wade said.

"Hmm?" Ember hummed.

"This silence song. I think it worked..." Wade said. Ember nodded.

"A little, hm?" she giggled. 

"Can we try it in duet form, next time?" Wade asked. Ember nodded again, but then froze and frowned.

"Wait- what do you meHEHEhhehean Wahahahade waaahh!" Ember cried when all of a sudden, Wade started to tickle her. She shrieked and squirmed, but he pinned her down and reminded her of the actual strength of water.

"Wahahaade nohoho aaahhaahah!" Ember howled. 

"Such a lovely singing voice!" Wade encouraged, and for the next couple of minutes, there was anything but silence. Just them making 'music' with their endless laughter and having fun.

[hornyforherbert]

Stay, if you want. (Justin Herbert) ✧

Prompt 25. Stay, if you want too

CW: Fluff

WC: 1498

"I really should be going," I said, my voice barely above a whisper. I stole a glance at Justin, and my heart skipped a beat at his earnest gaze. Justin's brown eyes locked onto mine, and he took a step closer. "Or..." he started, his voice trailing off as he looked down at the ground for a moment.

"Or what?" I prodded, unable to hide the curiosity in my voice. Justin took a deep breath and looked back up at me. "Or you can stay if you want to," he said softly, his eyes searching mine for any sign of agreement. My pulse quickened, and I felt a warmth spreading through me. "Stay?" I repeated, the word feeling foreign on my tongue. "Yeah, stay," Justin confirmed, a hint of uncertainty in his voice. "I mean, if you want to, of course. I just thought it might be nice to spend a little more time together."

I couldn't help but smile at his awkward charm. "I'd like that," I said, surprising myself with the sudden confidence in my voice. Justin's face broke into a relieved grin, and he motioned toward the couch.

"Great. Let's watch a movie, or we could order some food. Whatever you're in the mood for." "A movie sounds perfect," I replied, feeling a surge of excitement at the prospect of spending more time with Justin.

As Justin sorted through his collection of DVDs, I admired the cozy decor of his living room. Soft throw pillows adorned the plush couch, and warm, earthy tones filled the space, creating an inviting atmosphere. "How about this one?" Justin asked, holding up a classic romcom. "It's a bit cheesy, but in a good way." I chuckled and nodded. "Cheesy is perfect, especially on a cozy evening like this."

We settled onto the couch, and Justin hit play on the remote. The opening credits rolled, and I nestled into the cushions, feeling relaxed and content in Justin's company. As the movie progressed, I found myself stealing glances at Justin. His focused gaze on the screen, the way he chuckled at the funny moments, and the soft furrow of his brow during the emotional scenes—it all made my heart flutter.

“I can grab some snacks if you'd like," Justin offered during a brief pause in the movie. "Or maybe some popcorn?" "Popcorn sounds great," I agreed, feeling a surge of fondness for Justin's considerate nature. Justin nodded and slipped off the couch, making his way to the kitchen. The sounds of cabinets opening and the hum of the microwave filled the air, adding a cozy rhythm to the evening. As he returned with a heaping bowl of popcorn, I grinned in appreciation.

“You're a mind reader," I teased, reaching for a handful of the warm, buttery snack. Justin chuckled and settled back onto the couch, our arms brushing against each other as we shared the popcorn. With the movie coming to a close, I felt a sense of reluctance at the thought of leaving. The comfortable silence between Justin and me seemed too perfect to disrupt.

"So, what did you think?" Justin asked, casting a sideways glance in my direction. "The movie was great," I replied, finding myself lost in Justin's gaze once more. Justin's lips curved into a gentle smile, and he shifted his position, facing me more directly. "I'm really glad you decided to stay," he said, his voice carrying a hint of vulnerability. I felt a jolt of nervous energy coursing through me, but beneath it all, there was an undeniable warmth in Justin's presence.

"Me too," I admitted, my voice quieter than before. Before I could process what was happening, Justin's hand reached out, gently brushing against mine. My breath caught in my throat at the unexpected contact, and I turned to meet his eyes. "Can I be honest?" Justin asked, his gaze unwavering. I nodded, feeling the anticipation building within me. "I've been wanting to do this all evening," Justin confessed, his voice barely above a whisper.

In one swift movement, Justin closed the distance between us, pressing his lips against mine in a soft, tender kiss. My entire body hummed with a rush of emotions, and I found myself leaning into the embrace, savoring the moment. When we finally pulled away, Justin's eyes held a silent question, searching for any hint of discomfort or hesitation.

"Wow," was the only word that escaped my lips, but the smile on Justin's face told me everything I needed to know. "Wow, indeed," Justin echoed, his voice filled with warmth. "I've been wanting to do that since the moment you walked into my house." My heart swelled with a mix of joy and relief. "I'm so glad I stayed," I murmured.

The evening melted into night as we continued to talk, laughter and deep conversations intertwining in the air around us. With each passing moment, I found myself falling deeper for Justin, and the feeling in his eyes mirrored my own. It wasn't until the late hours that I realized how late it had become, and a yawn slipped past my lips, surprising me.

"I should get going," I said, forcing myself to stand despite the reluctance in my heart. Justin nodded, understanding flickering in his eyes. "Yeah, it's getting late. Let me walk you out." We made our way to the front door, the night enveloping us in a gentle embrace. The quiet hum of the neighborhood surrounded us, adding to the intimate atmosphere.

As we reached the threshold, Justin turned to face me, his expression tender. "Thank you for staying," he said, his voice holding a hint of vulnerability. "Thank you for inviting me," I replied, a soft smile gracing my lips. Justin hesitated for a moment, as if contemplating his next move. "Would you... like to do this again sometime?" he asked, his eyes searching mine.

My heart skipped a beat at the hope in his voice. "I'd love that," I admitted, feeling a spark of excitement at the thought of seeing Justin again.

A genuine smile blossomed on Justin's face, and he leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to my cheek. "Goodnight, y/n," he said softly, his gaze lingering on mine. "Goodnight, Justin," I whispered, feeling a warmth spreading through me at his lingering presence.

As I made my way home, the night felt alive with the memory of Justin's touch and the warmth of his gaze. Despite the late hour and the weariness tugging at my body, I felt a renewed sense of hope pulsing within me.

In the days that followed, Justin and I found ourselves drawn to each other like two magnets, unable to resist the pull of our connection. We shared laughter, deep conversations, and quiet moments that seemed to stretch into eternity.

However, as our bond deepened, I couldn't shake the sense of uncertainty lingering at the back of my mind. It felt like standing on the edge of a precipice, the thrill of the fall mingling with the fear of the unknown.

One evening, as Justin and I sat across from each other in a café, the weight of the unspoken lingered between us, casting a shadow over the warmth of our shared laughter. "What's on your mind?" Justin asked, his eyes searching mine with a hint of concern.

I hesitated, feeling the weight of my thoughts pressing against my tongue. "I... I've been thinking," I started, my voice hesitant. Justin's expression softened, and he reached across the table, his hand finding mine. "You can tell me anything, y/n. I'm here for you." The warmth of his touch emboldened me, and I took a deep breath. "I'm just... afraid," I admitted, feeling the vulnerability unraveling within me. "Afraid of what?" Justin prodded gently, his gaze unwavering.

"Afraid of getting too close," I confessed, the words feeling like a weight lifted from my chest. "Afraid of getting hurt." Justin's eyes softened with understanding, and he squeezed my hand gently. "I understand," he said, his voice gentle. "But y/n, I want you to know that I'm not going anywhere. I care about you, and I want to be here for you."

[sopaprimordialy]

I've been thinking about how Luther could have fit so easily into the Disney Renaissance villains again.

He and the Rogues really make me remember what we lost by getting rid of simple villains.

Luther can either be a product of his environment if we go by the original movie / video game or he can be a symptom of the general bigotry that exists in the world.

I feel like if he were created specifically today they're probably would have made him way too complex like some sort of direct parallel to Cyrus or something and we would have lost so much what makes him so interesting.

He can be genuinely terrifying but can also be very comedic depending on how you look at them or even downright pathetic given he may or may not be the son of Victor and is imitating with his father probably does to his own loved ones.

I like the idea of Luther being the embodiment of "suffering doesn't create good people, it creates suffering", in the sense of: I don't think it's *possible for someone to end up that fucked up without some trauma. Like, why would he even be in gang life he lived in a totally stable, loving and caring household?

(*I mean I don't have the needed knowledge to even begin a discussion about people being born "evil" as their nature X being a product of their environment so let's just say its highly unlikely)

The way he says the line "life is pain" makes me believe that he did go through something. The way he is disconnected from everything around him and sees himself as this pain-bringer entity that won't ever face the consequences of his own acts (and, when he does, he just kinda regresses to being a whiny little kid) could be a response to being neglected, isolated. Neglected in a way that he would never be punished for whatever, but neither loved or cared.

I can almost see in my mind he going fucking berserk throughout his entire childhood and teenage years, like, terrorizing other kids at school being the worse kind of bully to ever exist and never being held accountable for that. And I can see he doing that for attention. Eventually, the attention he would get from being a jerk TM wouldn't be enough, and he would start doing more hardcore stuff, progressively more criminal, and boom, gang gang gang.

And then the general bigotry of the world comes to scene, because if he's being neglected and his family* (talking abt that later) isn't educating him, "the streets" will, will them not? At least, that's what my mom always told me. But this "street educational system" aka the police seems to work faaaar better on anyone that isn't, like, a white cisgender male. He has so much less to fear, honestly, it's comical.

Luther is both of those things and at the same time he's also this caricature of a villain that keeps laughing maniacally and saying shit like "yes indeed wanna see 'em bleed get the mop mop mop" and the whole watch the word burn and chaos take over thing. Weirdly enough, this is one of the best ways I've seen this kind of problem being represented; it should be considered pathetic to be hateful about things like race, gender, sexuality... bigotry *is* pathetic, and I like the fact that a character that generally represents how society treats (or, at least, wishes to treat) minorities is portrayed as such.

(This section is dedicated to talking about his hypothetical family)

So. Families.

The first social structure we meet as soon as we're born. Your family has the duty to keep you safe, nourished, loved, and basically teach you how to be a decent human being, at least ideally.

But what if this structure is, let's say, fucked up? Trauma inducing, ain't it? Then everything goes down the drain: the protection, the love, the teachings, the function human being... that's part of what I see in Luther.

In the possibility of Victor being Luther's father, I imagine him being pretty emotionally absent, maybe even physically, considering he would be out to work a lot. Still, Luther would look up to him a lot, it's his father, after all. Maybe if he does everything right, he can get his attention! If we consider he's talking to Victor in that phone call, it fits!

(Further context for why I think that: I found in the movie wiki that Patrick, the actor for both og Luther and Victor, once said that he's talking to a character called "The Boss". Apparently, he kinda just made that shit up and it became canon since no other explanation was given. In the same part of the wiki, I found this commentary that he must look up to that person considering the unique way they interact with them then and in other instances in the game)

Ok now it's 4 am. I need to finish this thing before going to sleep so I'm sorry if this last part is rushed or incomprehensible I don't wven know how I'm still awake

Victor also seems to be very aggressive, and I doubt he keeps it only to harassing young women at work and throwing them under trains (*sob*). He would of course behave like that at home too, I totally agree with you that, in great measure, the way he acts with his crew is basically him imitating how Victor would act with his family.

It's funny and tragic for me to imagine that the way he treats Cropsy — both the passive aggressiveness he shows in the musical and the physical assaults he does in other medias — being just a mirror of how Victor would treat his wife.

I think it was you that talked about Luther's parents being divorced at some point (but I could be wrokg cause I'm super sleepy rn) and dude I agree so fucking much with that. I think they would be the kind of couple that takes way too long to get divorced (esp considering the time period we're talking about) and that just leaves more and more trauma on their children's heads.

Imagine Luther's whole villain's past being like "my dad be rude and violent :( my parents divorced :( now I kill oppressed ppl's leadership:("

*read it in a whinny lil voice

He doesn't need a complex "Cyrus' parallel that went wrong" past to work and this simplicity is beautiful, but if he was written nowadays it would happen 100%

[shakyhandz]

The Dead Three’s Chosen - Re-Animator Style

Okay so, big thoughts are happening.

I would like to propose this quaint imagine. Please suspend your disbelief for some out of character ness that may occur in this scenario.

We’ll start with Doctor Herbert West, Chosen of Bhaal, wizard interested in the re-animated living - necromancy. He would be an unwilling chosen from the start. Not because he’s adverse to murder, really he doesn’t mind, but because the blood of Bhaal makes him a bit more impulsive, and he ends up killing his test subjects before he can progress his research. It’s all very inconvenient, you see.

I feel like Bhaal would like West as a chosen, for the most part. I don’t see him as a murderous beast, lusting for blood, and committing murder sprees. But I do see him killing people and using their corpses to kill more people. And being a bhaalspawn, I’m sure there’s a dark urge that drives his curiosity to disassemble bodies and put them back together. I imagine his lab looking a bit like Balthazar’s lab.

Bhaal himself can animate the dead and talk through them, and I just have this bit in my head of Bhaal possessing some of the corpses West re animates so that he can talk to West, as West isn’t going to pray/commune with him anytime soon. The dynamic is like a rebellious son ignoring his father, “stop ignoring me, son” Bhaal would say, and it would piss West off every time.

While I’ve seen it be said that Bhaal hates necromancy, as it’s giving life to something already dead, I’d argue that Bhaal would see the necromancy as a good thing as long as it was a means to more death. “Life is strength if it means you can use it to end more lives” - Bhaal, probably. And we know that West has no problem mixing murder with his necromancy.

But that’s the thing, West doesn’t want his re-animated corpses to be mindless murder zombies, he wants to actually perfect the art of necromancy, create actual life. And it drives his father absolutely mad. The deity painfully hand sculpted this man to make him his perfect murderous son, only for him to become obsessed with the one thing he’ll never grasp for long - the living.

Enter, Doctor Daniel Cain, Death Cleric and Chosen of Myrkul. Cain didn’t start out as a Myrkul worshipper, he first was a life cleric of Kelemvor. However, a particularly traumatic event (perhaps a girlfriend dies, driving him to madness. or maybe he starts to dabble in magic that Kelemvor doesn't approve of and causes something horrible to happen) leads him to switch his faith. Those who turn to Myrkul usually experience a lot of death in their lives. It has to be something very upsetting for him to switch like that.

If you have other ideas as to how he came to be Myrkul’s chosen, feel free to share.

Those who worship Myrkul typically have these views - death is inevitable, natural, and should be embraced, but also respected- feared.

Perhaps Cain is fueling his faith for Myrkul due to a personal fear of death that he holds. More so for the fear for others. Or perhaps Cain seeks a way to extend the life of other people through Myrkul, I know the deity is all about the acceptance of death, but the deity has been known to extend lives of the living if it suits his cause.

I can’t really think of a solid reason as to why Cain would choose to worship Myrkul, at least not before all the events that go down in the movie, LOL, he’s a lot more jaded after.

It is also said that worshippers seek to give comfortable deaths to people, so perhaps in this scenario instead of Cain being a “healing” doctor, he’s more of a “quality of life” doctor. He’s going to manage your pain levels, sit “death-watch” beside you in your last hours, and make you as comfortable as you can be for when you inevitably pass.

Perhaps he finds an odd peace helping others in this way, easing the suffering and burdens that many carry to their end.

Next, we have Doctor Carl Hill, Chosen of Bane, a paladin who has broken his hippocratic oath, LOL (idea was given by a commenter on a previous post.)

Hill actively chooses to worship his god. He’s a powerful hypnotist and specializes in matters of the brain (idk what people of Faerûn would consider a “brain doctor” but he’s that.) He’s controlling, conniving, and holds political clout inside of Baldur’s gate.

If we are following the story of the game, I’m imagining him coming up with the idea to enslave the elder brain instead of the durge. Or maybe he does peek at West’s notes and steals some of his ideas about it. I’m also thinking about the brains that are hooked up to the steel watch, very Dr. Hill coded.

Now, when the summons for these three chosen are issued by their gods, West is very keen on ignoring the call. Perhaps West also has a butler in this scenario that desperately tries to convince him to work with the other chosen, but West really isn’t interested.

So the ever diligent butler takes it upon himself to go knocking on the doors of the other chosen (spawning into their abodes unannounced) and, agonizingly, asks them to seek out West themselves.

Hill will think himself above such a task, more concerned with his work than for that sorry excuse of a chosen, at least by his standards. Really, does Bane not consider him powerful enough to do this on his own? Ridiculous.

Cain, on the other hand, agrees to fetch West. He could seek him out for many reasons, maybe he doesn’t like the idea of working with Hill and wants to see what this other guy is all about. Maybe he knows about West already, or has heard about his research. And then they meet.

I’m thinking they meet while West is animating one of those hairless cats, maybe many of them, and it’s running around, bouncing off the laboratory walls, and Cain kills it dead with a spell. And West gets so pissed and upset at this absolute nobody coming in and crushing one of his experiments. And Cain’s all like “oh sorry, I thought you were in trouble, here” and revives the dead cat again for him. But West is like “No! It’s not the same! There’s a better way” or whatever because I assume Myrkul’s magic isn’t gonna do what West wants. Myrkul’s magic is more about bringing back the body rather than the mind, if that makes sense.

So Cain is like “oh, better? For real?” Because Cain got into the whole Myrkul business (I assume) to bring back a loved one or something along those lines, so he’s like “tell me more.” And so West goes “okay” and then he kills the cat again. And then shows Cain some of his experiments. And well, I’m sure it doesn’t take long to become “roommates” again.

Let’s bring it back to Dr. Hill. In this scenario there is no Orin to throw a wrench in everyone’s perfect plans. Hill is our Orin. If we are going straight off of the game events, He’s going to be the one to go after West and try to off him. He’s going to steal all his research and leave him for dead. Whether or not he loses his memories, I’ll leave that for you all to decide in your own imagines.

I’m also thinking, if West gets wormed and tossed aside, Cain is gonna have some inner turmoil. To combat the loneliness or whatever, I’d say Cain brings Megan back to life, sorta like Isobel. During this time of West being M.I.A, Hill steals her away, leaving Cain seething mad and grief stricken all over again. That’s the emotional state Cain is in when West encounters him again.

If West doesn’t remember Cain, I feel like Cain would lay it all out for him. And tell him what Hill did. And so West is ofc going to seek revenge, and Cain is all for it.

If West does remember all the events upon meeting Cain again, I feel like he would be a bit miffed that Cain decided to turn to Megan instead of looking for West’s dead body and re animating him instead. I doubt he’d tell Cain that but I feel like, deep down, he’d be a bit jealous of his dead girlfriend. And so ofc he’s going to want to kill Hill, but also, he’ll probably plot to get rid of Megan too lol.

And that’s it! Those are my thoughts on the topic for now. Ofc I have little mini scenarios in my head about everything but that’s rough idea as a whole. Personally, for this scenario, idk if I would have it follow the game story line, I like to imagine these three on the set of a morbid rom-com doctor show where they run the most diabolical hospital in the name of the dead three LMAO.

Anyway, as always I’d love to hear your thoughts and input. If it inspires you to create your own art or stories, regardless if it follows this imagine, I’d really like to see because I’m so into this crossover.

[lailyn]

Sharing Is Scaring

A Frostshield Hurt/Comfort Christmas Fic.

“Are you alright? You are wearing an expression one can only describe as…” Loki tried to think of a kinder word but was unsuccessful. “Constipated.”

"Ouch." Steve winced. His waistband dug painfully into his gut, which was becoming more and more bloated with each passing minute. “I may have overindulged a bit.”

“I thought you had a cast-iron stomach,” Loki teased. 

“Not against Tony’s cooking, it isn’t,” Steve grunted. “I swear the guy still has a grudge against me.”

Loki rolled his eyes. “Sure. Because his special, family-recipe manicotti makes such a lethal weapon that you couldn’t help having seconds.” 

“I didn’t want to be rude,” Steve muttered. He sighed and squirmed and sighed again.

“You didn’t take your Lactaid, did you?” Loki asked knowingly.

“It slipped my mind,” Steve said sheepishly. “Guess I was too distracted tonight.”

“By what?”

“Whom,” Steve corrected. “You look amazing, by the way. You’ve got good taste.”

Loki snorted fondly as he ran a hand down the Christmas sweater he had decided to permanently borrow from Steve. "I’m sure that’s humble bragging, but I appreciate the compliment nonetheless.”

Steve couldn’t help but smile; the soft green wool highlighted the gold flecks in Loki’s eyes, and the ruby neckline his cheeks, made ruddy by the many, many aperitifs Loki must have sneaked in before dinner. 

“Make way for your dazzling host!” Their host breezed past with an armful of snacks and drinks. “Settle down, you two. The movie’s about to start.”

Tony unburdened his load of indulgences onto the coffee table. A bottle of wine tumbled onto the floor and rolled under the couch where Loki and Steve had been comfortably ensconced for the past half hour. “Do you mind getting that for me?”

“What are we watching? Wait, let me guess.” Thor did not have to think very hard, for the choices for good Midgardian entertainment were few and far between. “Die Hard?”

“You guessed right, sweet cheeks.” Tony said.

A collective groan rose; curiously, but not surprisingly, the sound that emanated from Steve was one of discomfort, instead of dismay like the others. 

“Hey, it's either that or Baby’s Day Out!” Tony pointed at Loki and Steve. “And I don’t want those two lovebirds getting any ideas!”

Red-faced, Steve placed the bottle of wine he had painstakingly retrieved back on the table. “Don’t know what you’re talking about, Tony.” 

Loki only smiled a beatific smile, and snuggled just a little deeper into Steve’s side. “Everything comes from an idea.”

His smile faded slightly when he felt Steve stiffen. Before Loki could probe further, the clamour of protests around him grew.  

“Oh come on, there must be hundreds of movies you can choose from!” Natasha exclaimed in exasperation.

“We’re doing things the traditional way this year. That means no cable, no satellite TV, and definitely no streaming."

“Not DVDs!” Bruce groaned. “Tony, we are living in the digital world, you do know that, right?”

“Not even digital, people,” Tony said mischievously as he waved something glinting in the air. “Think older. Think analog.”

“That’s crazy.” Bruce plucked the laser disc out of Tony’s hand, unable to contain his excitement. “I haven’t seen one of these in ages!”

The good-natured protests died down eventually and everybody, as tradition would have it, made the same comments they made every year.

"Hey, ever noticed how Bruce Willis' shirt's blood-spattered one second, clean the next?"

"Continuity's not really that important, Tony."

"The hell it isn't. My fantastic brain's not good at ignoring all these gaffes - "

"Then maybe we should have watched something fun and mindless. The Holiday, Bridget Jones, Love Actually..."

"Oh, don't get me started on Love Actually."

Throughout all the chatter, Steve remained very quiet. The pain in his stomach had grown steadily worse as the night progressed, and halfway into the movie, he was positively sweating.

As if sensing his discomfort, Loki slipped a hand underneath Steve’s shirt and began to rub his stomach in slow, circular motions. 

“You are very warm,” Loki commented, eyebrows knitted in concern.

“It’s really hot in here,” was all Steve could say. Moments later, he felt the first, tell-tale tingle of Loki’s magic burn his skin.

“It’s okay, Loki.” He gently peeled Loki’s fingers off his tender abdomen. “You don’t have to do that.”

“It goes without saying that everyone wants to enjoy their Christmas presents,” Loki murmured. “And you…” He leaned in to whisper in Steve’s ear, “ - are mine.” 

Delighted at seeing Steve shudder, Loki merrily added. “I want to enjoy my Christmas, Captain. So, by hook or by crook, I will have you in tip-top shape tonight.”

“But you’ll be taking on my pain. I don’t see how that’s any fun,” Steve whispered back.

“I think I can handle a little tummy ache, Steve,” Loki said dryly. “I’ve taken on far more dire maladies than that.”

“Alright,” Steve finally relented, albeit not without heavy reluctance. “But only if you’re really sure it won’t hurt you.”

“It won’t,” Loki promised. “Now relax and let me work.”

The potency of Loki’s spells never ceased to impress, and the sharp pangs in Steve’s stomach eased within seconds.

He breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank you.”

“I’m glad you’re feeling better,” Loki said lightly. “Maybe next time you’ll remember to take your medicine. Or was it your intention all along to distract me from Alan Rickman?”

Steve laughed, and dropped a playful peck on Loki’s temple. “You caught me.”

Now that he was finally rid of all his aches and pains, Steve settled in to enjoy the movie,  but it was evident before long that Loki did not share his enthusiasm.

“Are you alright?” Steve asked after catching Loki fidgeting for the hundredth time. He did a double take when he noticed Loki’s pallor. “You look pale.”

Loki’s smile was tight and wan. “I’m always pale, or so you people keep telling me.”

Steve frowned. There was something in the tone of Loki’s voice that did not sit well with him. “Is something wrong?”

Loki may be the God of Lies but he had long lost the ability to school his expressions around Steve.

“I am in terrible pain,” Loki admitted, suddenly out of breath. “I don’t know why. How are you feeling?”

“Me? I’m fine, thanks to you.”

“Good,” Loki grunted. “That’s - that’s good.”

“Wait.” Steve’s heart began to race. “Did something go wrong with the transference spell you did earlier?” 

“I don’t know.” Beads of sweat dotted Loki’s forehead as he clutched his stomach tighter. “This has never happened before.”

“Hey, Romeo, can you and Juliet take it down a notch? We’re kinda trying to watch a movie here.”

Steve ignored the jibe. “Jarvis, lights on, please.”

“Hey, what gives?” Irritated now, Tony swivelled in his seat to look, but his annoyance quickly turned into alarm. “Games, you okay? You don’t look so good.”

“Just an upset stomach. I’m fine,” Loki gritted through his teeth.

Thor, the ever reliable Loki-speak decipherer, sighed. “He’s fibbing. I can tell by his colour. You’re looking very grey, Brother.” 

“Was it the eggnog? The turkey?” Tony gave the room a surveying sweep. “Is anyone else feeling sick?”

“I ate everything and I feel fine,” Thor said. 

“You’re an outlier and therefore cannot be the point of comparison against which other people’s digestive systems are measured,” Tony deadpanned. 

Steve was already helping Loki to his feet. “Is there anyone still working at the medical lab?”

“It’s Christmas eve, genius,” Bruce said cheerily. “Guess who you’re stuck with?”

*************************

“How are you feeling now?” Bruce asked. “Any better?”

Loki shook his head. If anything, he felt ten times worse. “It feels like I’m being stabbed over and over.”

“Strange. The painkillers don’t seem to be working,” Bruce said. He bit his lip, appearing deep in thought. “But the bloodworks and the scans appear normal.”

“Meaning?” Steve asked.

“Meaning…” Bruce took off his glasses. “This is not medical. It’s magical. And there’s only one guy I know who’s an expert in both.”

The Avengers looked at each other with dread.

“Oh, boy,” Tony sighed. “He’s going to love this.”

*************************

The expert, as Tony had predicted quite wrongly, did not love it after all.

“Doing back-to-back shifts on Christmas, covering for your colleagues just because they have kids, dealing with drunks and delinquents…” Doctor Stephen Strange grumbled as he waltzed in through the door. “I thought those days were behind me.”

“Yes, we all know how busy you are,” Tony said sweetly. “Allow our resident Trickster to apologise for pulling you away from your festivities tonight.” 

“Nothing festive about Die Hard, but apparently it’s a Sanctum tradition, so.” Stephen shrugged. “In a way, you did me a favour.”

“Let me guess. DVD.” 

“Hah. VHS.” Stephen gave Tony a triumphant smile. “Wong’s a tech dinosaur.”

“You said he can help,” Steve criticised loudly, frustration evident in his tone. “Loki’s hurting and you’re standing around chatting.”

“Calm down, lover boy,” Stephen said easily. “Tell me your symptoms.”

Steve frowned. “Loki’s the one - ”

“I’m not asking Loki. I’m asking you, since you were the one who was sick in the first place.”

Everyone turned expectantly to Steve.

“What is he talking about?” Natasha asked. “Steve?”

“Oh, no, you didn’t,” Thor groaned. “Loki, how many times must we talk about this?” He shook his head sadly. “My brother has no sense of self-preservation.”

But Stephen paid the ever-dramatic God of Thunder no heed, focusing instead on his patient, who remained deathly quiet and still.

“Captain,” he urged again. “Your symptoms, now.”

Steve recounted his experience, beginning with feeling unwell right after dinner, putting it down to his lactose intolerance.

“So the pain started out dull and more centrally located, before it became sharp and shifted to your right side? And you felt nauseous as well?" At Steve's nod, Stephen turned grim. “These are all classic symptoms of acute appendicitis.”

Steve’s jaw dropped. “But I thought it was just - are you sure?”

“What is that?” Thor asked in alarm. “Is it serious?”

“It’s only the commonest surgical emergency in us humans,” Stephen said nonchalantly. “On average, I did ten appendectomies a day back when I was a resident.”

“I don’t get it,” Thor said. “If it’s so common then why can’t Loki heal himself?”

“I said it was common,” Stephen said. “I didn’t say it wasn’t serious.”

The doctor proceeded to sit down very carefully on the edge of the bed so as to not jar his patient.

“Hello.” 

“Second-Rate,” Loki returned the perfunctory greeting with a solemn acknowledgement. “How kind of you to come.”

“Well, you are a being of diplomatic importance,” Stephen replied cattily. “And Tony’s paying me by the hour. Holiday rates apply, of course.”

“Of course.” Loki’s throat bobbed up and down. “As you can see, I seem to have found myself in a bit of a bind.”

“I can see.” Stephen gestured at Loki’s midsection, the source of all troubles. “Mind if I?”

Steve pulled the privacy curtains around the bed before leaning against the wall to wait..The others showed no sign of budging either, each absorbed in their own curiousity and varying degrees of concern.

A minute later, a hand poked through the curtains. “Doctor Banner, can I see the full body scan again?”

Bruce placed the folder into the doctor’s awaiting hand. 

“Do you want the good news or the bad news?” Stephen asked when he finally emerged from behind the curtains moments later. “You know what? Don’t bother, because they’re all kind of bad.”

Appalling bedside manner aside, the Sorcerer Supreme's demeanour had taken on a confident, no nonsense air, allowing the others a glimpse of what the doctor must have been like back in the day.

“The transference spell worked beautifully, and had Loki been equipped with all our accoutrements, the inflamed appendix would have resolved itself, and you would still be gorging on pies and cookies and what have you.” Stephen paused for dramatic effect. “Unfortunately…”

“Unfortunately?” Steve echoed fearfully.

“He doesn’t have one.” Stephen said simply. “An appendix, I mean.”

Bruce frowned. “So…”

“So the inflammation has nowhere to go. There is nothing for me to cut into, or cut out. The magic cannot close its loop.”

Steve swallowed hard. “So what can we do?”

"About that." Stephen hesitated visibly. “Theoretically, as the spell has not reached its natural conclusion, it can be reversed.”

“So what are we waiting for?” Steve drew the curtains back and grabbed Loki’s limp hand. “Loki, undo the spell.”

Loki turned his head away.

Steve's tone grew hard. “Loki, give it back.” 

Once again, his plea fell on deaf ears. 

Steve turned to the doctor. “He can give it back, can’t he?”

“Yeah…it’s not as straightforward as that, I’m afraid,” Stephen said. “The guarding, the rigidity, the severity of the pain…it’s all pointing towards a ruptured appendix. Now you may be Captain America and all, but generalised peritonitis generally has a very poor outcome, and to transfer it back to you at this stage would be a very, very stupid idea.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning you can die,” Stephen said plainly. “Brave, I give you that, but stupid.”

“It’s not stupid if it means saving Loki’s life,” Steve growled.

“It still is if there’s another way that doesn’t involve you going through the worst agony you’ve ever felt in your life,” Stephen retorted. 

Steve’s face blanched. “Help him. Please.”

Stephen sighed. "Loki."

Loki reluctantly turned his head a fraction.

“You’re a shapeshifter. You know the insides of your body down to every last cell. Do you have a redundant organ, a vestigial piece of organic tissue you can spare?” Stephen asked.

Loki stared at him blankly.

“If you do, we can then divert the disease process into that organ, and take it out as you would a human appendix. Problem solved."

Feeling everybody’s incredulous gaze on him, Stephen felt compelled to defend his sound, professional opinion. “It’s a valid question. Doctor Who has two hearts.”

Despite the seriousness of the situation, Natasha could not resist offering her services. “I can help answer that.”

“Now that is a tough choice,” Tony said with a sympathetic grimace. 

“Guys, this is serious,” Bruce rebuked. “Can’t you see that Loki’s really sick?”

For once, Loki had to agree.

“Can all of you get out of here and let me die in peace?” he moaned.

“Brother,” Thor chastised. “No talk of death, please. I am barely recovered from your last one.”

“You know what’ll help with the pain? Vodka,” Natasha said. “Lots and lots of vodka. I sewed a hole in my stomach once and I hardly felt a thing.”

“Everybody, please!” Steve shouted. “Out. Now.”

“That’s right. Listen to the Captain, everybody," said Stephen drolly. "Everyone out but the next of kin."

Feeling the burn of Loki’s venomous eyes on the back of his head, he cleared his throat. “Correction. Everybody out, especially the next of kin. I need to have a private discussion with my patient.”

Tony tsk-tsked. “Way to go, Bambi. You’ve really ruined Christmas now.”

“Sorry,” Loki gasped.

“Don’t be,” Tony said, eyes softer than anyone had ever seen them. “We’ve watched Die Hard like, what, five years in a row? Besides, I’ve got it on hard copy, it’s ours forever. Unless I buy Netflix, of course.” 

He gave Loki’s knee a pat, awkward but gentle. “So try not to die, huh?”

Loki could only nod, the intense pain robbing him of speech and breath.

Stephen waved an impatient hand. “You too, Captain. Don’t worry, I won’t do anything to him you won’t do.”

At this point, Steve was too distraught and sick with anxiety to appreciate the doctor’s dark humour. 

“I’ll be right outside, Loki.”

Loki’s eyes followed Steve and lingered on the door long after it closed behind him.

With a majestic sweep of his cloak, the Sorcerer Supreme dropped into the chair and crossed his legs expectantly. “So. What will it be?” 

When Loki remained silent, Stephen decided to stop beating around the bush. “I know you’ve got the answer. I can see it in your eyes.”

Loki licked his lips. “Stark’s right. It isn’t an easy choice.”

“It’s only a choice between aesthetic perfection and survival, Loki,” Stephen said, frowning. “We have implants, prosthetics - ”

“I am not talking about breasts or testicles, Doctor. I couldn’t care less about them,” Loki interrupted. “Only that external endowments will not do. The poison is inside me.”

Stephen waited patiently; something was coming.

“I guess it was a blessing in disguise,” Loki sniffed, cursing the threat of tears stinging his eyes. “We could have watched Baby’s Day Out and made this a lot more difficult than it needs to be.”

“Oh.” Stephen’s shoulders slumped when the truth about Loki’s dilemma sank in. “Oh, dear.”

They stayed in an uncomfortable yet somewhat companionable silence for a while, before Stephen spoke again.

“Look. I don’t know much about your anatomy, yet,” Stephen said haltingly. “But if you consent to it, I’ll see what we can do about salvaging your reproductive potential. How’s that sound?”

“You will not give me false hope,” Loki said in a hard voice. “Not you.”

“Not me,” Stephen agreed. “So here’s what we’re going to do...”

*************************

“How long does this usually take?”

“It’s a key-hole procedure, it shouldn’t take long…”

“Didn’t you tell me Strange was in an accident and it ruined his hands?’

“That was years ago, maybe he got better.”

“No, he still has the shakes. But maybe it’s one of those things that gets better with alcohol?”

“Strange is drinking and operating on my brother??”

"Settle down, kids. Uncle Tony’s got it covered. He made your Uncle Stephen a new set of hands for Christmas.”

“You did what?”

“Ever heard of biomechanically loading muscle fibres to suppress involuntary tremor, Doctor Banner?”

“Only in theory.”

“Oh, it works, I assure you. It’s medical exoskeleton technology at its best. Well. Tony’s best.”

“Tony…”

Now he can quit his day job and go back to being a brain surgeon if he wants. Oof!”

“Damn you, Stark.”

Pat, pat. “Love you too, Rogers.”

*************************

“Hey.”

“Hey.”

“How are you feeling?”

“Okay, I think.” Loki listened to his body. It still pulsated with magic, his and Stephen’s combined, but where there once was fire, there was fire no more. “Yeah, I feel okay. I don't hurt anymore.”

Steve’s sigh of relief warmed his skin. Warmer still was the press of Steve’s lips on his knuckles seconds later. “You scared me.”

“I think I scared myself.” Loki smiled weakly. “And I’m not easily scared.”

“Hey, give yourself some credit. You were really sick.”

A nonchalant shrug. “Yes, well.”

“I’m serious, Loki. You nearly died.”

“Death doesn’t scare me, Captain,” Loki said gently. “At least, mine doesn’t.”

Steve was quiet. “Think I was scared enough for the both of us.”

“Sorry,” Loki apologised. “But everything’s okay now, isn’t it?”

“Is it?”

Loki tilted his head and observed Steve's stiff demeanour.

“Did the doctor tell you?” he queried tentatively. “What he did in the end?”

Steve shook his head. “He couldn’t get out of here fast enough. The minute he was sure you were going to pull through, he left.”

“Of course he did,” Loki said with a roll of his eyes. “I suppose I must visit him in that dreadful place of his and thank him properly.”

“Once you’re better,” Steve said firmly.

“I am better, Steve,” Loki said. “In all the ways that matter.”

“Yeah? Care to tell me more?”

Loki stiffened. “What makes you think there’s more?”

“There’s always more with you,” Steve exploded, his voice raw with emotions. “What did you sacrifice in the end, Loki? What did you have to give up to save my life?”

“I didn’t sacrifice. I bargained.”

“You bargained.” Steve clenched his fist, the one not still holding Loki’s hand. “Stop talking in riddles, Loki. Just tell me the truth.”

“Do you remember what I said? About how everything begins with an idea?” Loki asked softly. “Me joining you, fighting the good fight. Us, living together under one roof. The idea of you and me.”

“Yes. It was the best damn idea I’ve ever had in my life.”

Loki heard the conviction in Steve’s voice and his resolve crumbled. 

“Well I had an idea too, you see. I’ve had it for a while now. But tonight I thought - ” his voice caught in a throat thick with tears, “I thought the idea had turned into an impossibility.” 

“And what is this idea, Loki?” Steve asked, his heart pounding in his chest.

“A family,” Loki exhaled shakily. “With you.”

“You don’t mean - ?”

“My womb. I thought I had to give it up,” Loki confessed. “That’s why I hesitated. I fought the pain for as long as I could.”

Steve had turned as white as paper. His hand darted out and palmed Loki’s bandaged abdomen. “No, Loki. Tell me you didn’t.”

Loki placed his hand atop Steve’s. 

“I didn’t,” he said reassuringly. “Apparently I have - had - lots of women bits. Some I even had extras of, according to Strange.”

Steve still couldn’t speak, so Loki rambled on. “Something called ovaries? Yes, I think that’s what they’re called. He said even if one is removed, there’s a good chance we could still…well. You know.”

Increasingly perturbed by Steve’s continual silence, Loki took it upon himself to sit up -

Jolted out of his reverie, Steve quickly put a hand on Loki’s chest. “What on earth do you think you’re doing?”

It could be the close brush with death, or the lingering effects of the drugs still circulating in his veins, but Loki could feel the desire surging, the need to know what Steve Rogers was really thinking in that perfect head of his.

“Captain. My Captain,” Loki called quietly. “Does it scare you? My idea?”

Steve pulled Loki in so fast his head swam -

“You idiot,” he felt the rumble of Steve’s voice in his chest, the warmth of Steve’s kiss on his head, finally a whisper, fervent and frantic.

“The only thing that scares me is losing you.”

Everything about Steve was so warm. 

Somewhere in the mansion, a clock chimed twelve. 

After he was done kissing Loki to his heart’s content,

“Hey, since it’s officially Christmas and neither of us is dying…” Steve broke into a suggestive grin. “Wanna watch something?”

"Not Die Hard again,” Loki groaned. 

Steve shook his head. He waved a disc in the air. “Try again.”

Loki smiled at the sight of its cover. 

“Baby’s Day Out, it is.”

[mostlylurkinbarelypostin]

Mike’s S3 Arc

AKA, the most misunderstood arc in all of television history (JK, probably not but it feels like it and this is coming from someone who was very much in the general audience during my first watch of S3)

Mike’s arc in S3 gets me in my feels every time I think about it. After going through everything with Will in season 2, he ends up at the snowball where he’s coming to realizations and having to make heartbreaking decisions. He watches his friends slowly leave him until he’s completely alone. From Mike’s perspective, he’s being left behind as his friends seemingly conform easily. Lucas goes off with Max, Will leaves him to dance with some random girl, and Dustin leaves to go find a girl as well. Mike is left alone at the table, and he faces a decision - conform or be left behind. El, who is literally paralleled to Superman, walks in and Mike does what is expected of him. He packs up his true feelings and desires and makes the same decision his mother made. He chooses the person that society has been telling he should. It doesn’t matter what he truly wants. It probably doesn’t feel like much of a choice though when he’s operating under the belief that the only alternative will lead to him being abandoned by those he loves.

In S3, Mike fully throws himself into his relationship with El because this is his chance to be normal, and if he can’t make it work with a literal superhero, then what does that say about him? El also saved his and his friends lives so he probably feels like he owes it to her as well. It doesn’t come naturally to him at all though, and no matter how hard he tries to be “normal,” he can’t change who he is. He starts hiding out of fear that his friends will see through his facade. He pulls away from the group, and Will in particular, opting to hide away at the cabin with El where he doesn’t have to do as much pretending. He can pull her hands off of him without being questioned and he doesn’t have to be scared that someone will notice the way he looks at and gravitates towards Will.

It’s heartbreaking though, because not only is he depriving himself of time with his friends and the boy he really loves, but El doesn’t even like Mike when he’s being himself. He gets shut down, like when he tried to sing with her. So Mike can only really be himself in dark places like the movie theatre where no one else is paying attention and him and Will can sit close together and look at each other without fear that someone will notice.

It gets progressively harder for Mike to keep pretending though when Will gets a little too close to the truth during their fight in the garage. He gets scared and ends up projecting onto Will, not realizing just how much his words would hurt him. At this point his girlfriend, his safety net, has left him, and he just lost the person that means the most to him. This time it wasn’t because of some outside force either, but rather from his own actions. So now Mike is alone again, despite trying his hardest to be “normal.” He did what he thought was expected of him and everything came crumbling down anyway. By the end of season 3, Mike is finding his way back to Will and seemingly hasn’t tried to get back together with El. He has a sweet moment with Will in the kitchen where he feels like maybe he hasn’t fully lost him after all. He then walks into Will’s room in a good mood, only to have El throw him the biggest curve ball ever as she tells him, out of the blue, “I love you too”. It’s fitting that he’s framed in front of a closet because he was thrown so far back into it that he may as well be in Narnia. After all that, he then has to say goodbye to Will, his best friend of almost a decade, who he still feels like he hasn’t fully repaired his relationship with, hence why Mike is focused on during Hopper’s voiceover. As implied through the voiceover, Mike has felt Will pulling away from him since their fight and it scares him. He realizes that all the changes that he’s made in order to be “normal” aren’t what he wants. Rejecting who he was didn’t make him happy and he almost lost Will as a result. It’s all a little too late though as he stands in the Byer’s driveway, watching Will leave to move across the country.

Like damn :(

Kinda unrelated, but sometimes I wonder if what happened during the time jump was a parallel to Jonathan and Nancy in S2. Nancy tells him that she waited before getting back together with Steve, to which Jonathan says “like only a month.” Like Nancy, did Mike maybe wait for Will, and when he didn’t hear from him, threw himself back into his relationship with El? Just a thought.

Anyways, all of this has been said before but I just enjoy putting it together into a stream of consciousness 🌚

[misterradio]

okay here are some tron 2.0 thoughts TEE HEE....... you have been Spoiler Warned for REAL!

tron fans talk abt this game with me okay 🥺

THIS GAME IS BEAUTIFUL .... MWWWWWAH!!!!!! i just love all the different environment designs, the color coding that went into the different computer systems was really cool too. my main takeaway is that the visuals Rule.

the npc designs were cool too but i kind of wish there was More variety (visually as well as voice acting)... but i really enjoy the design direction here ::-) why so many bald antagonist though? lol (AND WHY SO MANY MEN?)

In regards to gameplay i felt like it was pretty standard? i ended up using the basic disc weapon for most of the game because switching weapons takes Way too long if youre actively fighting, which is kind of a shame cuz there are so many weapon options... i did really enjoy the energy claw though 👍also the light cycle racing SUCKED and there was a graphical glitch that made it so that a bunch of visuals to my cycle were missing so i couldnt even enjoy the new design that was hyped up lol. as complicated as gameplay felt up front it definitely felt much better as it went on so it was pretty good.

game progression was very straightforward which i didnt expect..? go do this and then do that, etc. i thought it would be more open. this isnt rlly a complaint bc at least i wasnt lost or anything.

finding all the build notes was thankfully not hard but i enjoy poking around as much as i can in games already... and i liked the mechanics of searching archive boxes and being able to read emails between people ::-) YAY NOSINESS !!! despite finding all the build notes i still didnt end with the highest version i couldve...🤔 no idea how that works then...

moving on 2 story...

all the characters felt a bit flat so that was unfortunate... i wouldve liked to see some more emotions from everyone, bit more personality, etc...

i dont rlly know where jet's attachment to mercury came from, is he in love with this girl, if so why?? im thinking that since she was the first program to really reach out and help jet, that he latched on to her. but as the player i was kind of neutral on her SORRY although her design is cool

i was in disbelief that lora died and i was thinking she would just have been digitized and b in the computer somewhere? and there are allusions to her at least being superficially present in the program ma3a/ma2a etc (they have the same actress ^^__^^) but neither jet nor alan mention this which really shocks me??!!!??? thats your deceased mom or wife can u show a bit of tenderness or something..... maybe this can be cooked up more in an AU or something . idk i was really hoping she (and yori) would be around. i held on to hope for so long ✊️

OBVIOUSLY WISHING TRON WAS THERE... but omg alan being in the digital world shocked me so much i really liked that HEHE. him wearing tron's outfit was fun. i saw someone else in the tag say this, but if tron is "retired" then where is he?? INQUIRING MINDS WANNA KNOW !! he and jet werent very fazed by being digitized which surprised me buuut they also have to adapt fast given the urgency of their situation..

i felt rlly bad that thorne died SNIFFLE SNIFFLE jet and alan just watched a real guy die in front of them thats MESSED UP!! he was really cool too i enjoyed the corruption concept ::-) i was really worried the three fcon employees were gonna die too but im glad they implied that they could be repaired and manifested again.. (what is the word for un-digitized..?)

evil ma3a was really cool 👍 tbh all the antagonists are cool except im neutral on the kernel. i was confused that he was red i thought he was evil like in the original movie with the MCP's soldiers.. but i think hes just a guy who happens to be red. and also trying to kill u but just bc you (jet) are a freak of computer nature and should not be there. thats fair. i enjoyed his boss fight too.

THE FCON MONSTER WAS RLLY COOL HOW AM I NOT SEEING ANY FANART OF THEM.... ::-( i have to fix this... ALSO I WISH they had dialogue. like are they even aware of their situation. missed opportunity !!

okay thats all i can think of now.

WAIT UM I READ THE COMIC CONTINUATION(?) the ghost in the machine AS WELL and i dont have many thoughts on it bc it was really confusing BUT i did enjoy the layers of horror and unreality which i really did not expect. was also expecting the titular ghost to have more to do with lora (SIGH I REALLY WANNA SEE HER AGAIN) but it didnt but thats okay. i really liked the art of the first book specificaly.....

do any tron fans also like soma (2015) haha just wondering [TWIRLS MY HAIR

[bh-writingdump]

Grass

Chapter 3

Out of all the ways you’d thought you’d spend you’d spend your evening, being drugged and kidnapped into attending a movie night was not one of them.

 Laying along the couch in the smaller skeleton’s lap. Logic alone dictates you should be able to roll of the couch and walk away. Okay, maybe stumble away… worm away.

If you’d ask, you’re sure Red would’ve stopped all this nonsense and let you sleep it off.

Unfortunately, in the ensuing hour since Red drugged you, you’re having trouble even raising your head, much less flipping a 100-200 pound skeleton off a couch. It leaves you against him. His around you neck in an oddly comfortable head lock. A fan pointed at your legs, keeping the two of you cool with an ice back on your head does the rest.

“Why even do this? You already tell everyone you’ve fucked me.”

“you wanna?” He pinches your nipple.

“Owwww, not funny.” You whine, tensing up only slightly. He’d teased you for fucking hour. “Give my nipples a breaaaak. Is this it? You just want to torture me? Cuz let me tell you, you only have yourself to blame for making an ass out of yourself.”

Red flicks aimlessly through the channels. “Nature documentary?”

His hand leaves your sore nipple. You sigh. “Sure. Why not.”

He flips to another channel.

“Why ask if you’re just gonna—never mind.” You lean back. Fuck it, might as well rest while you’re on the good stuff. Damn, when was the last time you sat still without a pencil in your hand. Days? Weeks?  Even when you sleep, you barely remember dozing off, always just waking up covered in ink with sticky notes plastered across your cheeks. Maybe you’d even be lucky enough to fall asleep.

Wishful thinking but a joy can hope.

“wasn’t crime… something else..” Red murmurs.

By now, the ice had all melted, setting it aside on a nearby plate, you nuzzle into the crook of his arm sighing. A rattle reverberates through him. Heh, for all the time’s he’s begged you to come over, guess he doesn’t know what that entails.

“Did I hit a nerve?” You press a light kiss to his ulna.

He gives a light jerk, making you cough between giggles. “how ‘bout this one?”

The moment you see the golden H you recoil into his arm.

“c’mon, starry night. ya like it doncha?”

The channel doesn’t change.

“Couldn’t we watch something else?” At this rate, if you fall asleep, you’ll lose an entire day’s worth of work to a history documentary.

“Why?”

“Work never sleeps, Red. Unlike your work ethic. I have a show or two in me, after that, I need a ride back to work, alright?”

Red doesn’t reply, leaving the channel where it is. It’s something set in the Civil War with actors playing while a dull narrator reads off the teleprompter.

“No. Red. We’ve been over this. No history.”

“thought you liked the founding daddies.”

You shudder. “one, don’t call them that, EVER. Two, I read history. Watching it is a bastardization of interesting history into a droll of medium like TV.  For the first time since arriving, you legitimately attempt to sit up. You get as far as raising your head before you realize while the intensity of the weed had lessened somewhat in the hour since you’d taken it, it still felt like you were moving sixty miles per hour whenever you moved.

You groan, burying your face into his elbow. “next time, half dose.”

“heh, more like 16th dose. ya didn’t say ya had no tolerance.”

“I have an edible or two.”

“bet it’s 1 to 1.”

“It is.”

“figures.”

 “jackass, change the channel.”

He does. It’s to another history channel, this one set further back. “how ‘bout cave daddies?”

“Why must you do this to me?” You grumble.  “I have work. It’s due tomorrow. I need to make some sort of progress or… or…” His phalange runs along your jaw, stealing your breath away.

“taken care of.”

For some reason in your drug addled mind, it seemed acceptable.

Soon as his hand rests on your head, you know your done for. His head scratches always felt like they were drowning in good vibes. Your mind would cloud up and take long minutes to piece together any single idea.

The neanderthals shifted from group dynamics in a cave to something about hunting a wooly mammoth. You barely get a few words in before being interrupted by yawning spelling. “Not watching—a history thing—just so you can skimp of on work.”

“heh, not true.” He drinks in your confusion like it’s the best weed. “doing it with you s’ just a bonus.”

You frown, trying to figure out why playing hooky with work with you would make it more rewarding. Whatever, his arm is comfortable so there’s no point in arguing. You press your cheek into it again. It had since gone warm, making you grumble about ice.

Red disapears from beneath you. You grumble sub-vocally like a todder until the familiar weight shifts back and something cool gets pressed to your cheek.

“so you will sleep with me?”

If it weren’t for the drugs, you’d definitely be burning up with embarrassment. Now? You just huff.

“heh, knew it. ya like sleeping with me.”

“no… fucking.”

You can see his stupid smirk. “kay.”

“Nobody will believe you.”

“pictures don’t lie.”

You get enough strength to lift you head to fix him with a glare. Admittedly, when he had bragged in the past, he hadn’t showed any co-workers pictures of you he had taken. Still, something about him taking pictures while you were sleeping and sharing them felt more intimate than any teasing he’d done in the past on camera.

“no sharing.”

With your last brain cell, you snake a hand out from your lump of limbs. Your body feels so alien and apart from you as you rip a nearby water. No, that’s not what you want. Your hand crawls to the remote. You even get so far as changing the channel to something about baking when Red’s hand ghosts over your wrist, forcing you to drop the remote.  

“No. history.”

He forces your head back so you’re staring into his eyes. “Remember whose house yer in, kitten.” For a moment, you’re not sure what’s going to happen. Then, as if he did it all the time, he lets your head go and resumes scritching. The movement of your peach fuzz back and  forth wiping away the patter in your heart. “Now, who’s yer daddy?”

You murmur sub-vocally, hiding your face.

He stops petting.

You try to grab his hand and press it to your head but nothing happens. God, you hate this sadist. “More.” You say, tongue thick as cotton.

“ya know how ta ask, doncha?”

With renewed strength, you flop over, using his musty old tank top to hoist up your swaying form. Your eyes can’t focus but the knowing smile is telling. You know what he wants. He’s never hidden what he wants but damned if you were to give it to him. “More now.”

“ah, ya know better.”

His hand rests on your neck, stroking your jugular, forcing your breath to hitch. “M…dunno… weird man. Only scritch-scritch.”

His wiggles his fingers, a glob of crimson viscous magic shifting around it like syrup. “ask nicely and i’ll help ya wherever ya like, kitten.”

You sigh, swallowing hard against his hand. “Please… more scritches..” You don’t meet his hungry gaze. What you do meet is his knee conveniently positioned between your thighs.

“Really?”

“i can make ya beg.” He draws his magic covered hand across your cheek. You’d never felt so intoxicated by another’s touch than then.

“no.”

Red sighs, his knee drops and he sets you back on his chest. “virgin.”

In lieu of remembering sufficient insults, you blurt, “hrmigiger.”

“shit.. hehehehe, I dosed ya good, didn’t I?” Still, he doesn’t touch you again.

You know you could just watch the documentary. He wouldn’t force you to play but.. then he’d be asking about how breakfast as and if you wanted to sleep in next time at work. Even that didn’t persuade you to do it. Though, the idea of being in his lap without being touched for the rest of the night drove you absolutely nuts.

But if you begged a little, you’d get something. Now that you’re here.. a few minutes of sleep doesn’t sound the worst.

“Daddy?” Your voice breaks as you pant.

A skeleton kiss skims your cheek. You freeze until the scritches take the worry away. “now that wasn’t so hard, was it?”

Though the channel hadn’t changed. You’d have to ask again. Smug bastard. “Daddy,” You nearly choke on your own words but it’s easier this time. “I wanna-I want to watch discovery channel.”

He chuckles. “Do you now?” he scritches around your ear until your eyes flutter shut.

“Yuhh.. yup.” Your mouth feels like it’s full of syrup like the way his magic super charges every sensation.

“now that’s too bad, isn’t it?”

“no please, red! Uhh daddy?”

“Fuck, try one more time. Maybe I’ll change my mind.”

Doing your best to wiggle your ass and sit up, you struggle to keep eye contact, forcing him to cup your chin so you don’t eat shit into his pelvis. “Daddy, pleeease change the channel. Pwetty pwease with a chewey on top.”

He gags. “fuck, don’t say it like that.” Bursting out into laughing.

“waaah? Wha dat daddy? Yo don like me talky walkie like—” He covers your mouth and secures you with a head lock while you laugh.

The channel’s on a documentary on cheetahs. Despite how sad it is, you somehow still manage to fall asleep in his arms.

.

.

.

[Grass Ch3, end]

[lettersfromcats]

August movies!!

hi doreen !!!

ive decided to watch at least one film a day this month for no reason, but i have been having fun. since i don't use letterbox to give proper reviews i thought it'd be fun to start documenting my thoughts on each one for the month :) (ratings based on intuition alone) (this will take a while/ in progress)

-the cabin in the woods: 6/10 i really wanted to like this cause i liked the vibes and it seemed right up my alley- i love a horror comedy; but i found myself really bored halfway through. i do like the premise but i think the characters were a bit too archetype-y for me, which i get is the point. i still found it enjoyable and i would watch it again- just probably with other people, i think it's a group watch film.

-the virgin suicides: 9/10 i'm using this to work through some of my watchlist and this was on there for a while, we talked about watching it and i was not disappointed. the exploration of grief from the peripherals really struck me as well as the depiction of girlhood. i understand the criticism of the girls stories being told by the boys but to me the film seemed very self-aware and deliberate in that depiction (and i do love an unreliable narrator). the utter foreboding that hung over the mystical haze of memory throughout the film was enchanting and i mean the cinematography and soundtrack, impeccable. i can't move on without mentioning the symbolism of the elm trees, it's as if a literary technique was designed specifically to get me to like a film. the elm in itself has such interesting mythos and history which maybe wasn't deliberate beyond the obvious symbols in the film, but still is really interesting, for example, in norse mythology, the first woman was made from an elm and in america elms became a symbol of war and liberation during the revolution.

-girl, interrupted: 10/10 started with simon and garfunkle and still got better. incredible performances from any lesbians idea of a stacked cast and jared leto dies at war so win-win. the depictions of illness while i can't say are flawless, never feel like the intentions are wholly mocking- (though i obviously can't speak for everyone) and are devastating when brought to focus. and there's a homoerotic friendship so i was always gonna like it.

-purple hearts: 0/10 i dont even want to talk about it, i was watching it ironically and i couldn't even bring myself to have fun. the politics are beyond confused and seem to boil down to a centrist mush of love everyone despite their flaws (racism) and war's okay if the soldiers are big pouty white men. the romance was even rushed i don't know how anyone enjoyed it.

-the lighthouse: 8/10 exactly my type of artsy bullshit, robert pattinson and willam defoe shine in this weird, gross, claustrophobic, anxious masterpiece and i was having a great time. so much and so little happened but the delirious descent into madness was wonderful and a little bit gay so score.

-saw: 10/10 i finally watched it and as i predicted am obsessed, i just love a horror that is just a little ridiculous. i want to keep billy in a cage and feed him carrot sticks, (is he an animatronic or a puppet? how does he cycle???) jigsaws motivations make no sense and honestly good from him, i'd go batshit crazy if i were him too. the editing is so 2000s i can't stop thinking about it. the bathroom trap is where i want to go when i die. the horror was a lot less visceral than i was expecting; i think the contained nature of the traps really just creates such tension, especially between the characters stuck together, which is so compelling to me. the reverse bear trap is crazy i love it and what lesbian horror fan isn't a little in love with amanda. im so glad i hadn't had the twist spoiled for me because oh my god. also score slapped: hello zepp.

-old: 4/10 so silly i think more rich people should pay out of pocket to make bad films unintentionally. i watched with my siblings and i love nothing more than tearing apart this sort of thing with a captive audience who have to find me funny or be bored.

-extra ordinary: 8/10 i didn't know this was Irish until it started and what a pleasant surprise it all was. such a fun watch i really enjoyed it. the supernatural elements were the good side of corny and the romance was cheesy but heartfelt, with quintessentially irish humour just a really easy to watch, fun little film.

-piggy: 7/10 i really enjoyed this despite the not-great dub i was watching. i like how the bullied girl revenge trope was subverted and saras character felt very real, her reactions to events came off as very genuine and the suspension throughout is pulled off really well. i do get the criticisms of it being a drawn-out short cause i did find it a little slow at times but not having seen the short i didn't find the plot at all diminished. i liked the aspect of detachment from the killings emphasized by none of them being on camera while the emotional impact remained as well as the almost haunting presence of the killer and his intentions.

-the florida project: 9/10 another one that's been collecting dust on my watchlist for a while now i was absolutely enchanted by every aspect of it. the honest depiction of childhood and a very american poverty was striking. the gorgeous use of colours brought the vibrance of childhood back even in the dilapidated americana of it all. the acting really shone, willam defoe slayed of course but the kids are what make it special. and that final shot.

-we're all going to the worlds fair: 8/10 such an interesting film, nothing has ever quite captured the echoing loneliness that existence on the internet can create like this before. i loved the aspect of the accidental acting in search of connection, to me the lead-caseys-personal experience reads as completely honest without necessarily pointing to the spooky aspects being beyond her own mind. the film's atmosphere remains evenly eerie throughout, actually spooking me a little at times. the incredible, universal isolation of each character was really well portrayed with no conversations taking place without some barrier (a screen, a door) and i loved the framing of the fair itself, especially in contrast to the bleak monotonous world of empty snowed-in woodland and soulless frosty towns that casey occupies. the lead actress did such a good job portraying casey and her shifting identity and breakdowns. the director's transness cannot be ignored and the film as an allegory for dysphoria works so well. all this set to the droning instrumentals of alex g creates such a foreboding ambiance i couldn't help but love. definitely one of my favourite watches so far.

-shiva baby: 8/10 oh boy so stressful but also really fun. im starting to really like rachel sennott, looking forward to seeing more of her in stuff soon; speaking of bottoms looks like it's gonna be so good.

-red, white and royal blue: look, we know this is not my kind of thing, i get why people like it but for me this one especially with the indescribably weird political message is just not good, i didn't like the book and i don't like the film. gay people should have cheesy bad films though so its fine.

-when harry met sally: 9/10 this is one of those films i always thought i'd get round to eventually and i was suprised how much i liked it. really really cute, made me believe in love again or something. meg ryans hair was stunning also.

-marry my dead body: 7/10 i definitely enjoyed watching this but if i was being haunted by a twink drastic things would happen and they would not be good. i liked the characters well enough and the mafia(?) plot was fun, action sequences were okay and i'll be charmed by most ghost plots plus a kooky grandparent? great film recipe.

-juno: 10/10 knew i'd love this and boy did i! everything about it was just so charming, the dialogue and mannerisms of the characters (except jason batemans who was so so scary), the soundtrack, the aesthetics and did i mention the soundtrack!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! i love kimya dawson so much. just a wonderful little film.

-submarine: 8/10 i'm a fan of richard ayode but i think this is his only directorial work of his i've seen and i have to say i really enjoyed it. the cinematography was really cool, i liked the use of symmetry and colour, especially the assigning a colour to each character, that's my shit; stand-out shot for me was the dream sequence over the dam drain thing- i love a water motif used to represent inner turmoil of a character- olivers basically kendall roy if logan was welsh instead of scottish. i know people love the score but i never got into the artic monkeys cause i'm not a huge fan of alex turners voice so a series of songs written and performed by the man didn't exactly stand out to me, but they seemed lyrically cool. i love the awkward stilted dialogue and the oddity of the main characters, they're not exactly likeable but that for me doesn't detract from the film. also his dad was a freak called lloyd and i love him.

-bound: 10/10 i mean what can i say, it's a lesbian crime thriller and if you don't think im gonna love that you're crazy. the plot is really compelling and corky and violet are an even more compelling. i enjoyed it. (also add this to my list of really good films made in 1996)

-bombshell: 2/10 lazy liberal feminism, i watched for margot and kate

-bones and all: 10/10 cannibalism in media <3<3<3 i also really enjoy a bit of Southern Gothic in my films so this was always gonna be a hit with me, even if i had to look past timothys presence. from the start the atmosphere is intense, the rural desolate setting, the immediate social and then literal isolation of maren really keeps the foreboding building only broken by the sudden violence. cannibalism works so well here as queer coding (and everywhere else, don't get me started). the weird balance of such realistic settings and this unchangeable almost supernatural aspect of biological 'survival cannibalism' is so interesting; and the romance element of the film worked really well for me.

-werewolves within: 6/10 a fun little horror comedy, i thought i would like it more but the humour wasn't quite my thing, a little millenial maybe. i still enjoyed it and it was a nice film to watch with my mam.

-as above, so below: 7/10 subpar acting and script writing made up for by such a good concept, Dantes Inferno as the catacombs absolutely slayed, and i was actually pretty spooked a couple times which doesn't usually happen to me beyond overreacting to jumpscares, which while im on the subject the jumpscares here were really well done, didn't feel lazy to me at all. it does need to be said that it really feels like they had a good concept but needed to work the script and plot more, the horror could use some backup from a better-written storyline and better justification for the character's endings.

-primal fear: 8/10 young edward norton was a real standout here. definitely an interesting legal mystery thriller, i think the twist would probably be more impactful back in 1996 (good year for film), it felt a little played out at this point but still very well done.

-slums of beverly hills: 7/10 i love a good coming-of-age and also natasha lyonne so i definitely enjoyed this. don't love the way some topics were glossed over but what can you do.

-fifty shades of grey: bad.

-vampires suck: 6/10 a funny little parody, mentioned the black eyed peas.

-weird: the al yankovic story: 7/10 daniel radcliff as a freak strikes again. definitely my favourite musician biopic i've seen so far. charming in its ridiculousness.

-ginger snaps: 9/10 a coming of age horror which conflates the begining of puberty to the transformation of warewolfism. i really appreciated the body horror elements as a cronenberg fan and i just think the horror was done really well. the two main characters were played so well and it was quite funny at times. i liked the interpretation of lycanthropy as a disease and the route of cure the characters used. would definitely recommend!

-insidious: 5/10 while i didn't find it especially scary i think the horror was well done and the plot was actually quite interesting! astral projection is quite a unique look at a ghost story and i loved that it was a person being haunted not a house, it was a good subversion. i did watch for leigh whannell and he made such a fun supporting character among some pretty meh main characters. definetely not a bad film!

-no hard feelings: 6/10 so fun! im so glad more stuff like this is coming out again and i mean jennifer lawrence slayed so hard. weird how people are such prudes about female nudity still, it wasn't like she was being overly sexualised in the scene but people are making such a huge deal out of it, i thought it made for a funny moment. i really enjoyed the characters and their relationship felt very real and cute! also depicted modern teenagers as very scary which i approve of.

-ghost world: 8/10 a really interesting look at two girls stuck in limbo between high school and adulthood. i really liked the depiction of enid avidly avoiding confronting moving on and how she inadvertently hurts everyone around her by being so casually selfish and how shes contrasted by rebecca (also scar jo slayed here gave absoloutely nothing, such a good character). the aesthetics of the film were really fun, with the delapedated city really highlighting the girls and also how fun the costuming was. steve buscemi also had a standout performance in which he was an awkward freak and a pretentious asshole about music! what a slay.

i really enjoyed doing this, it kind of forced me to actually engage in the media i was consuming past the casual level i usually find myself on. and it sure beat watching tiktok for six hours before bed.

[modelbus]

gaytoadwithapopsicle asked:

Hi!!! I’m new but ur so talented!!! Can I request CC!Tommy with a vv outgoing reader who also has social anxiety?

Like they yell and are themselves out in public but then get scared they annoy people?

It’s cool if not but just know you’re great at writing hun!/p

Hello!! Thank you so much! And thank you for the meme also, it is much appreciated. My apologies that this isn't long, AP classes are killing me slowly.

Pier Panic

Pairing: CC!Tommy x Gn!Reader

Hanging out with Tommy always meant fun. There wasn't a second where you weren't smiling when around him, in public or in private. Which was why, when invited to mess around at pier with him, you just couldn't refuse.

You two were goofing around, being general public nuisances. He had stumbled upon a topic you were both passionate about, so you two had just been progressively getting louder and louder by the minute. Yelling, accompanied with waving hands, wasn't new to you two at all.

That didn't mean other people weren't bothered though.

Standing on a bench to gain height on Tommy, you throw your arms wide as if motioning to the entire world before spinning around. He laughs as you do, loud and carefree.

While spinning, you catch sight of all the eyes on you. It was a lot, even for you two. When your spin completes you push it out of your mind for now. It shouldn't bother you. Besides, you're with Tommy!

Joining in on his laughter when you nearly fall, you turn your back resolutely towards all the stares. You were just being yourself, there was nothing wrong with that. Right?

Before you have the possibility to even go down that rabbit hole, Tommy's changing topics.

"Race you to the end, loser gets to tweet something from the others phone!" He screams, running.

Shit, he could and would do a lot of damage. You had to beat him.

-----------------------------

Later, when the day tips into night, dark blue splashing against the perfect canvas of light blue, you think back on earlier. Even though it's hours later, it just won't leave your mind.

Were all those people glaring at you?

They were definitely staring, but you're pretty sure you saw someone glaring at you. Someone who hated you so much that they put in the effort to glare.

Were you that annoying? Were you too much?

Being yourself always came naturally in public, where you'd push the opinions of others aside. But now, essentially alone (save for Tommy), all those opinions started pressing on your mind. No, not pressing. Pounding.

Even with Tommy in the other room the thoughts didn't seep away. You were on his couch, waiting for him to finish something on his computer so you two could watch a movie, when your mind turns against you.

Maybe you were too annoying today. Too much. Too... you. Should you have been that loud?

"Fucking finally." Tommy sighs, walking out of his room. "I thought the stupid video would never render."

Caught up in your thoughts, a swirling storm of anxiety, you don't answer for a moment. When you finally do, it's not what you meant to say at all.

"Do you think I'm annoying?"

Despite the vulnerability shining through your words, the fact they aren't what you wanted to respond, you wait for him to answer. Because you do want to know. He'll answer honestly, you're sure of it.

You turn your head to catch sight of his expression. His eyes are wide, disbelieving.

"No!" He says adamantly. "You're yourself!"

"But is being myself annoying?" You clarify.

"No. And anyone who says other is just a- a- a fucking wanker. Their opinion doesn't matter." A grin spreads across his face slowly. "Mine does, obviously, and I say you aren't."

You laugh, the flurry of anxiety calming. You weren't annoying, not according to Tommy. And like he said: his opinion matters.

"Thanks."

"Course. Now I say we watch Up."

[mikalara-dracula]

Rainy days with their s/o

ft. Yuma and Subaru

Warning: 18+ content below; don't read if you're a minor.

Yuma:

Well, since he can’t garden that day, he’s quite bored and out of ideas as to what to do.

He’d be kinda grumpy about it, especially if he was planning to plant something new that day.

“Man, out of all days it has to rain today.”

“You say that every time it rains. It’s mother nature’s way of doing things. You can’t change it.”

“Tch! What does she know?!”

He’d eventually get over the fact that he can’t garden and would sit down and watch a little TV with you, however, he’s always judging everything that’s on.

For example, if a movie or show is on and he doesn’t really like it, he’ll criticize the characters he finds stupid.

“That guy’s an idiot. That’s not how you get a girl.”

“Oh, and I suppose you know?”

“How do you think I got you, little pig.” He’d grin, making you hit him playfully.

On days like this, he tends to get clingy because he has nothing else to do.

Basically, without his garden he’s lost on what to do and will constantly tease and bother you throughout the day.

For example, since it’s rainy outside, you figured you’d make yourself a nice hot chocolate since it corresponded well with the weather.

However, as you were drinking it in the kitchen, he came in and decided to bother you about what you were doing.

“What are you drinking, little pig?”

“A hot chocolate.” You’d smile.

“Oh good, maybe you’ll gain a little and it’ll go where I want it most.” He’d grin while reaching behind to clutch your ass xDD.

“Yuma! Is that all you care about?!”

“Hey, this little pig’s ass belongs to me, so I get to decide how big I want it.”

If you two are cuddling on the couch, he absolutely refuses to let you go. He literally treats you as if you’re his body pillow.

“Yuma, let me go.”

“Fight your way out of it, little pig.” He’d grin, finding your struggle funny.

Since there isn’t much to do on days like this, he might allow you to style his hair any way you want and might even do yours.

Believe it or not, he's an expert at braiding. His favorite style is a fishtail braid and he thinks it looks beautiful on you.

His talent for braiding is so versed that even his brothers might comment as to how pretty it looks on you.

"It looks so . . . nice, Y/N." Azusa would comment.

"Wow little maso-kitty, it looks great on you. Did Yuma do that?" Kou would add.

"As expected, Yuma's known for such styles. You display it well." Ruki would admit.

“Yeah, only the best for my little pig.” Yuma would smirk, a subtle boast in his tone, causing you to blush at his statement.

He likes giving you piggy back rides throughout the house, but he’ll pretend to drop you just to scare you because he’s an asshole.

With all this boredom, Yuma might even get into asking you a few dirty riddles.

"Hey little pig, what's six inches long, goes in your mouth and is more fun if it vibrates?"

"Yuma!"

"Damn, little pig, I didn't know you could be so dirty-minded. I'm just talking about a toothbrush."

"Well it certainly didn't sound that way."

"My god! How could you think such a thing?” He said, acting oh-so innocent, a smirk soon appearing on his face, showing his true colors. “Oh, I get it, you wanted it to be something else."

“What are you-,”

“C’mere, little pig.” He’d say, tackling and pinning you to a nearby couch, starting to tickle you.

"No! Stop!'' You'd squeal, Yuma still continuing to tickle you as you laughed beneath him.

At one point he might grow fed up with the rain and decide to go outside anyways.

"Y’know what, this is stupid. C'mon, little pig. We're not gonna let a little rain tell us what to do." He’d say, taking you by your wrist and dragging you behind him.

"Yuma, wai-,"

He’d continue running and drag you outside in the pouring rain, making you get soaking wet as he picks you up into his arms and spins you around, his lips melding onto yours as he’d hungrily kiss you. He’d soon pull away and put you down, a scowl on your face due to him getting you drenched in mother nature’s tears.

“Yuma! You got me all wet!”

"Damn, I tried to make this romantic and you're complaining about getting wet?"

You’d sigh, “Getting romantic doesn’t mean getting wet!”

“Oh really?” He’d smirk. “Then how come my little pig gets wet every time I-,”

“Shut up!” You’d say, hitting him playfully, causing him to laugh.

Subaru:

Doesn’t care if it’s rainy or not since he doesn’t really go out.

However, if it’s raining at night time and he wants to go in the rose garden, he might be a little irritated about it.

And since he doesn’t have any hobbies, this is a little hard on him.

Plus, since he’s a tsundere, he'll act pretty annoyed in general, even going down to being a total ass.

Compared to Yuma, he gets clingy in a different way--that is, he secretly hopes that you’ll spend time with him since he can’t go out to the garden.

If you’re busy doing your own stuff tho, he’ll attempt to get involved but will act like he’s disinterested in doing so.

But it’s not like you mind him getting involved--that is, if he’s being genuine.

For example, you were once sitting down at the table working on your homework late at night, finishing up the last thing for your assignment when he walked in and came up behind you.

He placed his head in the crook of your neck, being curious about what you were doing as his gaze traveled to the assignment you were working on.

“What are you doing?”

“Homework.” You’d answer.

“Tch! What a pain.”

“It’s not so bad, I’m almost done.”

“Why don’t you just take a break?”

“Subaru, there’s really no point since I’m close to finishing.” You’d say going back to your work, but of course, the white-haired vampire had to persist.

He lifted up his face from the crook of your neck and took notice of your exposed bra strap. A smirk grew on his face and being the tease that he is, he’d take his fingers and use them to pull on it and have smack against your skin just to annoy you and throw you off guard.

“What the hell?”

“It’s not my fault it was right there, you should hide it better next time.” He’d smirk.

If the atmosphere is quiet and he sees you’re busy but doesn’t want to bother you, he’ll just watch what you’re doing whilst you’re busy working and shuffling around doing your stuff. With watching the way your body moves and the look of concentration on your face, it builds up a lot of sexual tension as he'd stand by with his arms crossed in hopes that something intimate happens or is initiated.

Oh the things this bby car imagines xDD.

He’ll also try to get involved in other things you’d be doing as well, such as crafts.

After finishing your homework, you decided to do something a bit more productive, so you decided to go work on a painting you had been working on. You’d get pretty focused and concentrated, that is until Subaru came up behind you and decided to intervene.

“What are you up to now?”

“Painting.”

“Tch! Lame.”

He’d just continue to stand there, his figure still looming over yours. An idea soon hit you. You knew he was bored, so you decided to make painting time a little more fun.

Turning to him, you’d ask, “Hey, why don’t you help.”

“Huh?”

“Help me with the painting.”

“Do I look like Picasso to you?” He’d sarcastically remark.

“Subaru, it doesn’t matter what it looks like in the end. What matters is the fun you have when painting.”

“Tch! That’s stupid.” He’d retort.

“Alright, then. Suit yourself.”

Since he didn’t want to, you turned around and began painting again.

Deep down, Subaru secretly found your offer to be sweet since he really didn’t mind helping and wanted to spend time with you, but because he has a hard time expressing his emotions through his tough exterior, it always came off as if he didn’t care.

The white-haired vampire sighed, feeling torn between the feeling of wanting to do something memorable with you versus him getting caught doing something crafty by one of his brothers, but because you were more important, he decided to help.

“Alright, where do you want me to begin?” He’d say picking up a brush and sitting down next to you.

Taken back by his sudden decision, you’d say. “Oh, um, you can start over here.” You’d say, pointing to a blank space on the canvas. “Just paint it blue for now and then I’ll tell you what to do from there.”

He said nothing and began to do what you asked him, both of you working hard on the masterpiece.

While working, you’d occasionally sneak a few glances at him, seeing how his progress was going.

You honestly had to admit how attractive Subaru looked when he was concentrated on something, the way his eyes angled themselves as they narrowed in on the area he was working on, a few stray locks being in his face, his lips being ajar and lurid in the lighting as he continued to work.

To be honest, you definitely had to ask him to paint more often with you.

He definitely looked busy, an idea striking you again but in a more playful aspect. Since he looked so concentrated, you dipped your finger into the paint and smeared some on his cheek.

“Hey! What the hell?!”

You honestly couldn’t help but laugh, leading him to grin, “Oh, you think that’s funny? Then how about this?”

He’d be quick to dip multiple fingers in the paint and smear it all over your face. Accepting his challenge, you were quick to dip your hand in paint and smear it all over his face as payback, but this was far from over.

This ended up becoming an entire paint war, you and Subaru’s laughter echoing as you chased each other about the room and continued to smear and splatter paint on each other, both of you becoming a colored mess as the walls became vandalized in the process.

“I’m gonna get you, Y/N. You’re gonna look like a rainbow by the time this is over.” He’d grin, his hand fully loaded with paint being ready to rub it on you.

“Catch me if you can!” You’d tease sticking your tongue out, whilst running away from him.

It was all fun and games however, until Reiji came in and saw the mess, leading him to scold you two.

“What is the meaning of this?”

You both would be quick to blame it on each other as you’d talk over each other in unison, but Reiji didn’t care to hear excuses.

“Please see to it that this is cleaned up, otherwise I’ll have to discipline the two of you thoroughly.” He’d say, quickly taking his leave as you both laughed about what happened, soon cleaning it up together.

On rainy nights, he might show a bit of a soft side.

However, bear in mind that he will be quick to lean back into his tsundere side if he thinks the moment is getting too soft.

Likes to lay in his coffin with you if you both want to relax. He’ll act annoyed the entire time due to him being a tsundere, but secretly, he loves the fact that you’re next to him.

Likes to have you sit in his lap, while you’re reading, having a blanket draped over the both of you, whilst he’d rest his face in the crook of your neck. He honestly loves being so close to you, but he’d never admit it.

Here, he might take the opportunity to either place a soft kiss on your neck or bite your shoulder if he’s feeling thirsty.

He likes to cuddle and lay on top of you, but won't let you leave to do anything else because he's so clingy.

"Subaru, let me go."

"Not a chance."

When he’s not being soft, you two are bound to bicker about the stupidest things--like heights, for example, leading him to become a total mess.

"You're not taller than me, Y/N. We've been over this."

"Oh no?" You’d sass, stepping onto his coffin, being slightly taller than him now. "How about now?"

He scoffed, a grin appearing on his face as he’d playfully grab you and pin you onto a nearby wall, giving you the greediest and lustful kisses as you both kept laughing in unison.

Might let you style his hair, such as putting it up into a ponytail or style it in some other way.

You once put bows in his hair and he was so annoyed by it at first, but he eventually started to find it funny and began laughing with you, but that was all until Laito came in and took a picture of him with his new style.

“Fufu~, love the new look, Subaru. I’ve gotta say it suits you.”

“Why you!” He’d hiss, quickly running after him to make him delete the photo and beat the living crap out of him for doing that and seeing him in such a state.

On rainy nights, be prepared for a lot of fun and games because apart from paint wars, Subaru can take things to a whole new level.

Since it was raining and you couldn’t go anywhere, you decided to try out a new makeup style.

And of course, he’d have to get into your business and tell you he finds it stupid.

"Tch! Why do girls even wear that shit?!"

"Oh shut up, you boys like it. Don't lie.”

“Whatever.” He’d retort, saying nothing else.

You sighed knowing he was bored, so you asked the unthinkable once again to help him cope with not being able to go out because of the rain.

“Do you want help?”

“Help? With what?”

“With this new makeup style.”

“Tch! Seriously?”

“All you have to do is add the eyeshadow and lipstick. I’m not asking you to do anything crazy.”

Sighing and knowing it was better than doing nothing, he’d say, “Fine.”

He’d turn you to him so he could have better access to your face to apply the makeup.

“Just don't make me look like a clown.” You’d warn closing your eyes, allowing Subaru to put on the eyeshadow.

This is when he was struck with a mischievous idea, an infamous smirk twisting on his lips as he applied the makeup to your face.

And after what seemed like quite some time, he finally finished.

“Okay, it’s done.”

You’d sigh, “Finally, I can’t wait to see it. I’m sure it looks amazing.”

“You bet it does.” He’d mutter under his breath, it not being loud enough for you to hear.

Opening your eyes, you looked at your reflection in the mirror and screamed. The makeup looked so bad, maybe worse than a clown.

"Subaru!"

“Ha! What a face!” He’d scoff.

“Ass!” You’d hiss, chasing him around the room as he’d laugh.

Now because you couldn’t let him get away with what he did, as payback you decided to draw a mustache on him while he was sleeping.

When he woke up and saw his reflection in the mirror he grew shocked, and instantly knew it was you who had done it.

(Ik vampires typically can’t see their reflection in a mirror, but I’m not sure about DL here, but let’s just assume that he can considering it hasn’t been mentioned (maybe I’m wrong here??); and also because Reiji implied that some human-made vulnerabilities don’t apply to them, so this might not).

“Y/N!”

“Payback's a bitch isn't it?” You’d giggle, standing a few feet away from him.

“Now, you're gonna get it!” He’d say, chasing you around to no end, only leaving you to laugh as he kept running after you.

[discotechque]

but would you tell me if you want me?

pairing: abed nadir/m! reader word count: 1.3k rating: T requested: yes

im really sorry this took so long but i had no idea what to write and idk bc i love abed so much but here it is

Abed is aware of the natural progressions in a relationship ( he’s seen cookie cutter romances blasted through a projector ). It’s always meeting with witty banter or shy smiles which doesn’t correlate with anything he’s experienced. Anxious hands inching towards each other underneath a gingham table cloth and when he attempted it, it only resulted with scraping past wet gum. And casual kisses that appear to be monoliths within relationships.

Films make it seem so easy but those are characters who have people be paid to bring humanity to them. Lacking a certain complexity about the human psyche and varying reactions to unprompted actions. How do you kiss someone without needing to ask? Does asking enhance the experience? When is the right time to kiss someone? It’s a series of questions with no real answer and he’s uncertain if he’s willing to hear the truth.

He thinks that now is better than never but he would never purposely cross boundaries that have not been set. ( He didn’t meet you in a scripted manner, he would not want that. ) Yet, Jeff and Britta have already given him tips; Pierce has starting saying nonsensical things he tunes out; and Troy, Annie, and Shirley are the only ones who seem to understand the natural progression of dating.

Now is better than never. He’s never certain as to when now is.

He sits on the floor of his apartment, slowly watching you shift through his DVD collection. Pondering what you might pick before jumping into his arms again. It’s a domestic scene, one he might’ve missed if he waited. Now is better than never but a kiss is different than a date. It’s different wanting to see what his lips feel like pressed against yours.

“Are you fine with Corpse Bride again?” he doesn’t answer, instead watching as you sit back on the couch and adjust to fit in his arms. He was made to mold around your form. “Abed?”

He blinks. Once then twice.

Nodding even though the question has fallen deaf against his ears. “Totally,”

“Awesome, cause I was worried you were gonna get bored watching this movie again and I was thinking of Kauffman but that just gets you tired. So maybe comfort was a nice go to, y’know?”

Abed doesn’t know, he just watches you ramble about things and enjoys the haven he finds within the action. Knowing what makes him tick and reminding him of it. A saccharine feeling settling within the scene. He loves it, he loves what you do, he loves you.

He rushes in as he catches your wide eyed stare. A yelp leaving you as his forehead bumps against yours and his nose pokes your cheek. “Ack!” The sound leaves you both as you nurse surface level wounds that will wear off within minutes. He’s quick to cover his face, find solace in the darkness so he does not have to spare another thought to this onslaught of embarrassment.

“Abed?” you softly ask but he does not move his shield of fingers until your gently pull them down.

He watched you, he could watch you forever and never be bored by the prospect. Yet, it is not the time for romantic idles that will only keep him stalling from the truth. He tried his hand at unprompted gestures that only failed. Abed Nadir is swearing off from impulsivity ( an unlikely promise ).

“Did you want to kiss me?” you inquire and the soft grin that tugs on your lips only furthers the small pot of humiliation harboring at his stomach. You are a complex being, one he did not imagine and plays along with his endless ideas ( so many that are questionable but you still stay ).

“You could’ve just asked.”

You say as if its the most obvious thing in the world. It is, but he does not want to accept it.

“I—” Abed wants to protest but his lips fail to form any retort that could be reasonable. “I thought this would be more romantic like Pretty Woman.”

He thought romance was chronological. That there’s a right timing as to when moves can be brought out and what would make his boyfriend less upset. However, divine timing seems fictional at the moment.

“Wasn’t Julia Roberts a prostitute in that?” you question, smile only seeming to grow by the second. Ignoring his plight, instead trying a joke to help seal his hurt. You know him like the stars do the moon.

He retorts, “Do prostitutes not deserve romance?”

Your lips purse in thought, only pretending. A small huff leaving him as you do. He wouldn’t trade moments like these for some so formulaic and scripted. ( You’re real and all he’s ever wanted. ) The smile soon returns your lips with a firm nod.

“Very astute observation, Mister Nadir. I think that deserves a real kiss.”

Slowly, you lean in. Unleashing any prior tension as your fingers brush past his face and your mouth finds his. He doesn’t know what you taste like, a bit like toothpaste and chocolate that sit right upon his tongue as it glides along your bottom lip. Everything about this is new and untimed.

It’s the best kiss he’s ever had, he realizes after you lean back. His fingers loosely pressing into your waist as you still caress his face. ( His whole life in his hands. )

“We should do that again sometime,” he adds after and presses another peck to the corner of your mouth.