#not even a little bit tempted to actually watch the movie

[soapbubbles511]

Listening to the Thor:L&T director's commentary again. Have I seen the movie? No. Sorry Taika, not even you can make me actually watch a Marvel movie. But Taika does most of the commentary with his daughters and it's absolutely delightful. Highlights include:

Taika trying and failing to get them hyped for Korg. When Korg first appears Taika goes, it's Thor and his best friend ___, trying to get them to say Korg. When they don't he fills it in himself, "Korg! It's me, your father!" One of them just says that they thought the hammer was Thor's best friend. Sorry Taika 😂

In more Matewa being unimpressed, she apparently fell asleep during both the Sydney and London premieres. When Taika asks if it's because she found the movie boring she says yeah.

Bullet point that I'll just title, why Taika and Rhys are friends. When they first see Thor's hammer again Taika starts doing sound effects and trying to get his daughters to join in. Later there's a beatboxing interlude. Later he's making up a little song about what's happening.

Also Taika realizes that his water glass makes a nice wind chime-y noise when he hits it with his pencil (?) and keeps doing it at random intervals through the movie. There's one section where that's pretty much all they're doing and experimenting with making different noises. Swirling the water first makes a fun noise.

Taika is apparently doodling while recording this. One of his daughters asks what he's drawing. This ends in him giving both of them paper and pens so they can all doodle.

When Russell Crowe first appears they start going on about that time that they all stayed at Russell's farm. Just not paying attention to a good portion of that scene to list all the fun things at Russell's farm.

Dad mode Taika trying to give them life advice about how they don't have to figure out what they want to do with their lives when they're young. They don't sound particularly impressed.

They recorded this shortly after the last season of Stranger Things. His daughters are clearly still obsessed with Stranger Things. Taika is clearly sick of hearing about Stranger Things.

When they get to the bit about Korg's species being comic canonically gay he rambles on a while about how much he loves including a bit of LGBTQ+ representation and wants it to be normalized and thinks it's important that kids see that. It's very sweet. Also, he's quite excited about Korg's boyfriend Dwayne.

One of his daughters (Matewa I think) keeps going ew when Thor and Jane kiss. Taika tries to convince her that there's nothing wrong with kissing but she's firm on it being ew and disgusting.

[mypoisonedvine]

𝙗𝙤𝙪𝙦𝙪𝙚𝙩 || dieter bravo x camgirl!reader

𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮 || being quarantined in his hotel room has dieter getting a little stir crazy, and when the drugs run out, he has to find a new vice. that's how he found you.

𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩 || 5k

𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 || smut (18+ only; phone/video call sex, use of toys, male and female masturbation), sex work (obviously, look at the title), dieter being down astronomically bad with a burgeoning housewife kink, basically nothing to do with the movie he's from whatsoever it's just porn with almost no plot

(my challenge for @the-slumberparty this week was to write a fic that has a bouquet of flowers somewhere in it! leave it to me to find a way to include that in something so insanely smutty...)

He couldn’t stop watching you—both right now, in this moment, and just generally.

Right now, he couldn’t take his eyes off the way your cunt slid up and down on the glass dildo, your walls gripping every ridge and detail of the toy, your arousal coating it and running in droplets down to the base.

And for the past two weeks, your videos had been his obsession.  Maybe it technically qualified as a porn addiction—but it wasn’t just about that.  He didn’t watch anyone else, and he didn’t even jerk off every time he watched one of your videos; sometimes he just liked hearing your voice, feeling less alone in quarantine in his hotel room.

Most people just put on sitcom reruns or the local news to make a hotel room feel less empty, but that didn’t work for Dieter.  Maybe being an actor ruined the illusion of scripted TV for him—and as for the news, well, nobody would be comforted by the news these days.

So he turned to the only comfort he could rely on when all else failed: masturbation.  But he didn’t like to do it without something to watch, and normally he would just find a video he liked and work with that, but something tempted him to try a cam site… and now he was never turning back.

You weren’t the first girl he saw, it took a little scrolling, but something about your channel caught his eye.  It didn’t take even a full stream before he was addicted: you scratched every itch.

First of all, though he didn’t want to be too shallow, he couldn’t deny that your body was just his type.  It felt like he could stare at you naked for hours and never get bored—and it drove him crazy that he couldn’t touch you, couldn’t turn you around and look at every inch of you.  Instead he just had to lay back and let you show what you wanted; in a way, it was like a dominance thing—he was a victim to your whims, he could only get what you offered and that was it. 

That said, you never left him wanting, that was the second thing he couldn’t resist about you.  Your videos were… indulgent, maybe that’s the word he was looking for: it was so much more than just a girl rubbing herself in front of the camera and calling it a night.  You spent a while talking with the viewers and reacting to comments, sometimes while undressing if you weren’t already naked; then, you upped the ante bit by bit, teasing yourself and him until it finally culminated in you bringing yourself to the peak over and over—until neither of you could take anymore.  He wasn’t just satisfied after watching you, he was exhausted, in the best way.

And lastly, this one was probably just him projecting, but you seemed… sweet?  Kinky, sure, but with something real about you—kinda that girl-next-door vibe.  Maybe it was because you started some of your videos in normal clothes—not lingerie, not a sexy nurse outfit or whatever people are into these days—just a baggy band t-shirt and shorts or an old hoodie and pajama pants.  It was hard not to imagine you as his girlfriend during those streams.  Actually, once he let himself do it, he couldn’t stop—and it got him harder than anything else.

Perhaps Dieter had a bit of a reputation, and most would say he wasn’t very… sentimental with women.  They wouldn’t be wrong, but they’d be misunderstanding him a bit.  Truth be told, he was a pretty sensitive guy, and he’d always wanted a real relationship, it was just difficult with his career.  Love is sort of like eating healthy: maybe you like to cook, maybe you like green beans and chicken breasts, but when a bag of potato chips is right there, you know what you’re probably gonna end up eating.

And Dieter really did go through ‘em like potato chips.  It was easier that way.  He got used to expressing his emotions through acting, and when emotions become your career, it’s a lot harder to be vulnerable for free.

Sometimes he wished he’d met you in person, somehow.  (Then again, right now he was wishing he could meet anyone in person.)  But if he’d met you in person, he would’ve probably just hit on you, convinced you to sleep with him, and then gone back to his same old habits—you would’ve just been another meaningless night.  Instead he was trapped in this hotel, using his laptop like a window to the outside world, and you had become his vice.  Even drugs couldn’t do for him what you could; the high you brought him was incomparable.

He told you just as much; sure, he felt like kind of a loser, but he started commenting on your streams hoping to get a reaction.  I think I’m addicted to your videos.  It was just one in a long string of adoring, horny comments that floated up alongside your video that day as you were casually touching yourself—one hand teasing your breast, pinching and circling the nipple, the other between your legs as you gently rubbed your clit.  You hadn’t noticed his comment that time—or if you had, you didn’t say anything—but the next time, you saw it.  You’d been using a vibe, taking it on and off your clit so you could edge yourself: that alone was a feat of self-discipline he couldn’t imagine.  Can’t wait to see you cum, he’d written, too worked up himself to really wonder if it was clever or interesting.

You smiled, a little breathless laugh coming out more through your nose than your mouth.  “Can’t wait to see you cum,” you repeated, “me either, buddy.  Shit.  Need to come so bad.”

Hearing you read his comment made him actually anxious—like an adrenaline rush, like when he was a kid and hadn’t gotten rid of his stage fright yet.  You had such an effect on him; his heart was still racing when he finally came—he managed to wait until you did, only because he didn’t start jerking off until the last minute.  Having to keep his throbbing dick out of his hand was an enormous task, but he knew that once he started, he wouldn’t be able to stop.  And it was worth it, to come with you; he loved hearing your moans as you came, imagining how you’d sound if he was fucking you—imagining all his come painting your stomach or ass or even going inside you…

And now, right now, he was imagining that last thing—imagining filling you with his come.  You rode that glass dildo beautifully, and when he moved his hand at just the right pace, he could watch and feel the way you would ride him.

“Mm, y’like that?” you moaned, looking back at the camera—damn, if you looked back at him like that while you were on his cock he’d be a fucking goner.

“Yeah,” he panted, in real life, because responding to you aloud was a bad habit when he was close to coming.

“Wanna come in me?” you encouraged, and he bit his lip as he nodded; he wanted to shut his eyes from the pleasure, but he couldn’t miss a second of you picking up the pace as you bounced on the toy.  “Wanna fucking come inside me?”

“Yes, fuck, yes,” he panted out, starting to fuck up into his hand when your pace felt teasingly slow (even though it was already getting so much faster).

“C’mon baby, I want it—come in me, nice and deep,” you begged, voice getting shakier as your own orgasm neared.  “Can you come with me?  Please?  Just fill me up right as you make me come—fuck, so good—”

“God, baby,” he whined, tightening up his stomach to try not to come instantly.  Thankfully, he only had to hold out a few more seconds before he heard you start to make those undeniable moans: when you came, you were loud.  He fucking loved that.

“Yes, yes!” you screamed, and he swore he could see the way your pussy squeezed that toy, he could see the shiver that ran up your spine—he’d give anything to feel that squeeze on his cock, to feel that shiver under his hands…

Come painted his hand, splattering onto his chest and thighs; if only he’d had the thought in advance to take his robe off entirely before he did this, now he was going to have to send some very shameful laundry to the front desk.

“Fuck, that was intense,” you laughed breathlessly as you started to recover.  He could tell you were still a bit shaky as you lifted yourself off the dildo— and he winced, the last drop of come squeezing out of his slit, when he saw the way your pussy was left gaping for juuust a moment by the toy.  Then one squeeze and it was like you were back to normal; she’s fucking incredible, he thought to himself, finally taking his hand off of his softening dick.

Panting, he felt the slightest tinge of shame in the back of his mind.  Not just shame, actually, but loneliness: he watched you smile and turn to face the camera again, reading the slew of filthy praises in your comments, and he just wished it was the two of you— in real life, alone, holding each other…

But this was easier, this was so much easier.  Being alone meant there was no one here to judge him, and that was worth having no one to wrap up in his arms in a time like this.

As he snagged a tissue from the bedside table to wipe himself off, he listened to you read and react to some comments.  “Thanks, guys,” you beamed as you were overwhelmed with so hot and I just came so hard and you’re perfect.  “You flatter me, stop it…”

He had to bite his lip when you started to play with your own tits, seemingly out of nowhere.

“They’re so sensitive after I come,” you explained with a giggle, then a moan as you pinched and teased the buds.  “Have any of you ever tried that?  Playing with your nipples?”

Dieter laughed as the comments poured in: what? that’s fucking gay all the way to I’m doing it right now for you my queen

“Oh god, has it been an hour already?  I think I need to hop off, guys,” you announced.

Instantly the chat was flooded with pleas of don’t go!! and ten more minutes and how much do we tip for more time?

“If anybody wants to keep the conversation going, private chats are on sale on my page right now,” you explained with a friendly smile.  “But if not I’ll see you tomorrow!  Or, you’ll see me.”

With a flirty wave to the camera, the image froze and blurred; STREAM ENDED popped up on the screen.  It was already trying to suggest other streamers live right now that he could watch, but Dieter only sighed and shut his laptop.

Seven seconds later, he opened it again.

“Private chats…” he mumbled to himself remembering what you said.  He knew that you offered other services on your page, but something about you mentioning it this time got his attention.  As he considered for a second if he should’ve washed his hands before touching the trackpad, he navigated to your page and looked at the menu of additional services for purchase.  The list was long: private chats, as you’d mentioned; custom videos anywhere from 15 minutes to a concerningly-long two hours; a subscription to daily nude pictures, sent via Snapchat; even used panties available for shipping anywhere in the US and Canada.

He was originally just going to get a custom video, but as he scrolled through more options, he saw one-on-one video chat, and he got that feeling again—the adrenaline rush.  It took him a second to even compose himself enough to read the description.

Do you hate having to share me with all the other viewers during my streams?  I’d love to have some personal time to get to know you better, and do exactly what you’ve been dreaming of.  You can use voice if that’s easier for you than text—top fans can even turn their camera on if they so desire.

A half-hour video chat was only $75— that sounded like a steal to Dieter right now— and they were available to book as soon as tomorrow.  The idea made him feel all tingly and weird, but weird in a good way.

Top fans can even turn their camera on…

His constant engagement with your page for the last couple weeks had earned him the ‘top fan’ badge.  When he imagined showing you his face, his body, he got unexpectedly anxious, though; he wasn’t a particularly shy guy, but this was a delicate issue.  What if you recognized him?  What if you were a fan?  That would be weird— in a bad way.

Or what if you were a fan and you were overcome with the need to send him free videos, free pictures, even being willing to meet up with him sometime?  That would be… convenient, certainly, in some ways; but the thought overwhelmed him, and he decided that if he was going to buy one of these chats, his camera would have to stay off.  Just not worth the trouble.

He decided something else, too; a strange instinct, but one he was too deep in his post-orgasmic haze to resist.  He wanted to send you a gift.  Mostly, he hoped it would set him apart from other viewers— give you two something to talk about during that call.  If he bought you a toy from your wishlist, maybe you could use it for the first time for him… that would be incredibly hot.

Or maybe he’d buy you something more normal, like a nice throw pillow for the bed you laid on for some of your videos… the domesticity of that certainly attracted him.

But then, he had a simpler idea.  When in doubt while giving a gift to a woman, why not stick to the classics, right?

There was a P.O. Box for fanmail and gifts on your page, and he pulled up another tab to search: can you send flowers to a po box?

Just because he was a whore didn’t mean he wasn’t a romantic.

~

“I have to say, I get a lot of gifts… never gotten flowers before.”

His heart warmed to hear you say that— but it didn’t stop racing.  This felt different: having you here, in only a t-shirt and panties as he’d seen you many times, but knowing it was just for him… he loved it, but it was a little scary.  In a good way.  “Do you like them?” he asked.

“Yeah!” you smiled, fiddling with the stems as the vase sat beside you.  “Pink roses, lilies, orchids… you’re gonna spoil me, Hector.”

(Yes, he gave you his real name.  Ironically, he used it to hide who he actually was— but he liked hearing you say it.)

“Not that I mind,” you added with a wink.  “Do you mind if I have these in the background of my next stream?  They'll match the toy I'm gonna use."

"O-oh, yeah, sure,” he choked.  “What toy are you gonna use?”

You smirked a little, to the point that he almost felt stupid for asking that— but you didn’t mind showing him, in fact you had it ready and showed the baby-pink toy off for him.  His throat got a little tighter when he saw the U-shape of the toy; didn’t take a genius to imagine where that would go… and already his mind was jumping ahead to how you’d look with those silicone ends penetrating both your holes—

“Looks like fun,” he managed to get out, and you looked pretty proud of yourself for making him a bit flustered.

“Do you wanna turn your camera on?” you offered suddenly after you’d set the toy aside.  “No pressure, of course.”

He went through a whole rollercoaster when you asked that.  Because yes, he did—sort of.  But would it just make things more complicated?  What if you were uncomfortable with him being famous, thought he might expose you or something—or, more concerningly, what if you exposed him?  Or what if you just berated him with dumb fan questions when he was trying to forget about his life right now?  “Uh,” he stalled, “is it okay if I don’t, this time?”

“Of course, it’s all up to you,” you replied.  “I’m just a little curious… you have a sexy voice.  Gotta wonder if it matches.”

He didn’t even know if you would think he was sexy—he certainly hoped so, but maybe you had a type of your own.  Maybe you were a lesbian, how should he know?  “Thanks,” he hummed, “you too—but, you know, all of you is sexy.”

“Aw shucks,” you said as you struck a pose, putting your hands under your chin and batting your eyes to complete the sarcastic impression of innocence.  He laughed, and it reminded him why your videos were so special— ‘cause you made him laugh like that.  “You know, a lot of people book these chats because they have a specific kink they want me to try for them,” you explained.  “What about you?  Why’d you book this?”

“Is it weird if I just… kinda wanted to talk to you?”

His heart skipped when he saw your reaction—the shy, tender smile that appeared on your face.  “No, that’s not weird,” you replied, and for some reason it was how incredibly sweet you looked right then that made his cock jump in his boxers.  “We can talk about whatever you want.”

“Can we talk about you?”

“Not much to talk about,” you shrugged, smirking a bit; of course you were teasing him, he didn’t even mind.

“I really doubt that,” he chuckled.  “Is this your only job?  Do you do anything else?”

“I, uh, used to do something else,” you answered, “but then they found out about this.”

“Oh, that sucks…”

“Nah, worked out for the best.  Started making way more when I had more time to put into it,” you nodded.  “I like this a lot better, actually.  No sick leave, but no dress code, either.”

“Yeah, that’s a plus,” he nodded, even though you couldn’t see him.

“What about you?  What do you do?”

“Um… I’m an actor,” he replied.  He considered lying, but couldn’t come up with anything else.

“Oh, that’s really cool!” you smiled.  “Wouldn’t have seen you in anything, would I?”

“Probably not,” he laughed off your question.  “Do you, um, have any hobbies?  You must not have a lot of spare time, with people paying for chats and custom videos and all…”

“I take a few days off, here and there,” you nodded, “mostly I just like movies and stuff.”

That made him even more anxious that you would know who he was.  He still hadn’t decided if that would be a good thing or a bad thing, though.

“I like to cook,” you added. 

It was starting to feel like you were intentionally targeting his newly developed girlfriend fetish.  Instantly his mind was flooded with all this domestic bullshit: shopping with you for ingredients, coming home to a fresh dinner, waking up to you in the kitchen wearing his shirt and flipping pancakes.  “I like to eat,” Dieter replied, “we’re so compatible.”

You laughed, and if this was all just some act where you pretended to think he was funny and interesting, it was the best acting he’d seen in a while.  “Are you flirting?” you noticed, raising an eyebrow as if to point out how fitting-yet-bizarre it was for him to be hitting on you—because he didn’t need to, you were his for the half-hour regardless.  But he liked this better, and he loved making you laugh.

“Maybe,” he offered cryptically in return.

“Is that what the flowers were for?  Are you trying to seduce me?” you accused with a grin.

“Those were just to get your attention,” he admitted.

“Hector, honey,” you cooed, making his heart skip.  “You already have my attention.”

That excited him and his dick, which was now making a tent in his boxers as it waited for some of your promised attention; somehow, just casually-flirtatious conversation with you was almost hotter to him than the usual stuff.  Maybe he was just a little burnt out on all that by now— because talking to you had become much more valuable than seeing you naked.

“Just tell me one thing about you,” you bargained.

“Alright,” he agreed.

“Are you hard?”

He swallowed.  “Yeah,” he admitted, his voice sounding weaker than he meant it to.  You smirked a little.

“We don’t have to,” you assured him, “but if you’re interested, why don’t we get off together, hm?  Does that sound okay?”

Was it a good sign that you were initiating this, or did it just mean you were getting impatient with him?  God, it didn’t matter—he was gonna do whatever you wanted.  “Okay,” he answered.  “Yeah—that sounds… more than okay.”

Biting your lip slightly, the way you looked at the camera almost made him feel like you were sizing him up—even though all you could see was a black screen.  “Are you touching your cock already?”

“N-no, I… I still have boxers on,” he replied.  “Should I?”

“No, you should rub it a little through the boxers,” you instructed.  “That’s what I’m gonna do—touch my clit through these panties.  It’s even more sensitive when I do that, don’t ask me how.”

“R-right, okay,” he nodded.  He already liked taking instructions from you more than he thought he would.  His hand spread out over the bulge in the cotton, a sigh slipping from his lips as he started to find the right amount of pressure so he wouldn’t get too into it too fast.

His eyes were transfixed on the way you spread your legs, and he swore your panties already looked a little damp…

Your finger traced delicately over the seam of your pussy, and his balls tightened up at the way you sighed as you teased yourself.  “You should play with your tits, too,” he informed you, his own voice sounding shaky as he tried to hold back from just getting his cock out and jerking off as fervently as he wanted to.

“You’re just full of good ideas, huh?” you joked, taking your free hand and pinching yourself through your shirt.

“Then here’s another one for you,” he offered, “take something off.”

“Shirt or panties?” you asked.

“Dealer’s choice.”

You smiled and surprised him by lifting your hips, pulling your underwear down your thighs before kicking them off to the side.  For some reason, even though he gave you the choice, he expected you to take the shirt off first; and there was something surprisingly sexy about you still having that casual t-shirt on and nothing else.  (Likely, it was because it made it easier to imagine you just wearing one of his shirts…)

It added a new thrill to the now-familiar sight of your pussy— not that he ever got bored of that view.  “Can you— can you spread it for me?” he panted, nearly whimpering when you took two fingers and scissored apart your lips.  “Fuck, got such a pretty hole, baby…”

He saw it flex as you heard the compliment, and he couldn’t help but moan quietly.  “Yeah?  Have you thought about how good it would feel?” you encouraged with a sigh.  “How good this hole would feel on your cock?”

“Every fucking day,” he promised.  

“Then take it out,” you instructed breathily.  “Start touching your cock, and think about what it would be like if I was there touching you instead.”

Though he was glad to do as you’d said, pulling his throbbing erection from his boxers with a sigh, he had to disobey one of your commands.  “No, m’thinking about a lot more than that,” he replied, and you cracked a smile as you rubbed your clit faster.  “Thinking about being— fuck— inside you…”

You hummed happily; after all that teasing, he was so sensitive and worked up that it felt like he was already fighting to hold himself back.  He certainly couldn’t keep his pace down— right away he was stroking himself quickly, struggling to keep it together.

“Thinking about how fucking tight you are,” he added with a groan, loving the little whimper you let out in return.

“Hector, baby,” you moaned, and he hadn’t heard that name said that way in a very long time.  “This might be over sooner than I thought if you talk like that…”

“Good,” he decided, “it’s not gonna take me very long, either— you always make me like that.”

“How would you fuck me?” you asked, panting, rocking your hips against your hand.  “Tell me how you’d fuck me, baby.”

“Fuck, I—hard,” he choked out.  “So fucking hard—”

“Mm,” you moaned encouragingly.

“And I’d eat you out,” he decided, “before and after.  I’ve been dying to know how your pussy tastes.”

“After, huh?  Is that with your come inside?” you wondered.  “Or did you wanna come on my tits?”

“Inside,” he groaned.  “I’d eat my—fuck—eat my come out of you, I don’t care.”

“That’s dirty,” you purred, “I like it.  I like a man who can clean up his mess.”

“Never liked coming inside that much until I started watching your streams,” he admitted.  “Now it’s all I can think about—coming inside you.”

“Fuck,” you moaned, “want you to think about that when you come for me now, okay?  Can you do that?”

“Yeah,” he promised, moving his hand faster and feeling that tension in his gut that told him the breaking point was approaching.

“Think about filling me up,” you continued, “giving me all that come, so deep inside—”

“Fuck,” he hissed, “are you close too?”

“Baby, I’ve been trying not to come since we fucking started,” you admitted— and maybe it was a lie, but he bought it joyously.

“You’re so fucking perfect,” he gasped, “I’m gonna come so hard— fuck yes— gonna come for you…”

“Do it,” you begged, “I want you to, I want you to come, Hector.”

“You— you should come, too,” he countered with a shaking gasp, his cock already starting to flex as he knew he was seconds away from losing it.

“I will,” you promised with a smile, your voice itself turning every word into a moan, “I’m gonna come with you, baby, fuck— lemme hear it, wanna hear you come—”

He came with a grunt, squeezing down on his cock with his fist as come launched out in long pulses; “F-fuck, I’m coming, ahhh fuck,” he narrated— normally he wouldn’t say something like that, but you had asked to hear it, so…

“Me too, I— oh!” you shouted, and he watched with heavy eyes as you tossed your head back, hips rocking up into nothing— your hand was a blur over your pussy but he swore he could see it pulsing and clenching, creamy slick leaking slowly from your hole.

The last of his come came out as a fat droplet running down his shaft, making his fingers unpleasantly sticky as the ringing in his ears subsided and he began to slowly come back to reality.  You were panting, pushing yourself just a bit further until your whole body jolted and you quickly pulled your hand away.

“God,” you groaned, “that was… draining.”

“Yeah,” he agreed, laughing a little at how wrecked his own voice sounded.  

“I wish I could just, like, take a nap right now,” you admitted with a tired grin.

“I mean, you could— we’re almost out of time…” he noticed.

“No, I— yeah, I could, but I have something after this,” you replied, and he felt a little twist in his chest.  He didn’t blame you at all for it, but it made him jealous to think of you hopping right on to your next call— it made him feel like he was just one of your thousands of fans, which is not how he wanted you to think of him at all.

“Another call?” he assumed.

“No, just private chats,” you corrected, which somehow made him feel a little bit better, “and I should probably post a few things for my Snapchat— we’ll see.  I will definitely need a break before my stream tonight, though… will I see you there?  Proverbially?”

He smiled a little.  “Yeah, definitely.”

“Drink plenty of fluids before then,” you winked.  “Thanks for calling, Hector… I hope we can do this again sometime.”

It’s an upsell, she’s not actually into you, she’s not actually into you, he tried to force himself to believe.  But it was so much easier, so much more fun, to imagine that you really liked him— that those flowers stood out enough for you to realize that he’s different.

You both said your polite goodbyes and the call ended.  He was definitely sleepier than he anticipated after all that— you said you were, too, which made him just want to have you here even more so you could fall asleep on his shoulder and he wouldn’t have to be alone in this bed for the seemingly-thousandth time in a row.

Exhausted to the bone, some impossible mix of satisfied and starving for more of you, Dieter sighed and shut his laptop.

Seven seconds later, he opened it again.  He wanted to book his next video call before he passed out.

~

thank you so much for reading! if you're interested in a second part to this, please let me know by reblogging or maybe even leaving a comment! you can read my other works for pedro pascal characters here or check out my full masterlist here

[ceilidho]

you mentioned (probably as a joke) an au where reader wakes up at soap’s wife and it could either be really horny or leave me in tears if you actually create it 🤡🤡

i think about it all the time because (even though the guy was incredibly goofy in this movie) i can't be the only person who watched 13 going on 30 and was like......she woke up with a HOT boyfriend jfc. and was a little disappointed when she was completely uninterested in him.

so i think often of like. not so much a 13 going on 30 au but rather you just waking up in an alternate world - you're the same age, same body, but maybe minor different things about your life like your job, your house, your friends, and oh, married to some random 6' scot with a mohawk who can't seem to keep his hands off you no matter how much you squirm or try to deflect him.

especially if there's some reason you can't let on that you're not the same 'version' of you that was actually living this life - like maybe you just want your other self's life to stay as undisturbed as possible, you don't want to wreck her entire world just because you had a bit of a panic attack, maybe you're up for a promotion at work and you figure you could at least pretend to be that 'version' of you until whatever happens sorts itself out and you wake up in your old life. it's not like it's a stranger, it's just another version of you - like...you can handle pretending to be yourself for a couple of days.

except you hadn't intended on being stuck longer than a day or so, and there's only so long you can brush off your other self's husband. your husband in another world. who paws at your thighs and waist at every opportunity, gropes your ass when you turn around, curls around you in bed and begs you to let him eat you out like he's starved. and you're so tempted because god he's handsome, but it's so wrong - he's not actually your husband. and you're not you. not the same you, that is.

but it's hard to talk yourself out of it when he corners you in the shower or wakes you up in the middle of the night pressing his bulge against you, flushed and panting. already working himself up and making it almost impossible to tell him no :(

[dyns33]

Flufftober2024 - 1 Moon Knight

Heeeey ! I did my best (and I'm not done actually) to write a mini story per day until Halloween about my fav characters !

As also, it will be a longer story on Sundays. We are starting with dear Marc, Steven and Jake !

"No. Steven, I said no. Jake, stay out of it."

Y/N couldn't hear the debate that was going on between Marc and his two alters, but it was obvious that they didn't agree. She first imagined an important, dangerous mission that required a plan.

Until more details were revealed, which forced her to stop herself from snickering.

"We're not kids anymore, there's no way we're finding a disguise, and if I agreed to find a disguise, it wouldn't be a guy from Ancient Egypt."

"Oh, you don't agree on your choice of costume ?" she teased gently.

"There won't be a costume. Steven, no !"

"Let me guess. Mister Marc is an adult, with a soul as black as the coffee he drinks, allergic to fun and therefore refusing to celebrate Halloween. Steven wants to take advantage of the occasion to show his love of Egypt. And Jake doesn't care, but he wants to please Steven and annoy you, so he ganged up on you."

"Bingo…"

"Why don't you want to celebrate Halloween ? It's fun. And it will be mostly Steven, you can sleep while he struts around."

"I said no, it's no. It's for the kids, we have better things to do. Could you be on my side, please ?"

"Well, I could, but spending time with you, disguised too, is tempting."

"You often see us as Moon Knight, it will be the same."

Really, Y/N didn't understand why Marc was so stubborn about such an innocent subject. He often got angry when Steven, Jake or even her suggested that he change his habits.

Most of the time, Marc ended up giving in, because the requests weren't that bad. He was even happy with some changes, even if he was too proud to admit it. He also wanted to make sure that his alters were okay.

Jake didn't ask for much. Even wilder than Marc, he had lived in hiding for so many years that it seemed strange to him to ask for something, rather than taking it in secret. It annoyed the others a little, but since the protector would never put them in danger, they could trust him.

Steven had a lot of requests. Often adorable, easy to do, like having vegan options in the fridge or vanilla-scented shampoo. His happiness was a priority for the system. Sadly enough, Marc stepped aside to give him as much space as possible.

So for once he was giving his opinion, strictly refusing something, it seemed important. Even if it was about Halloween.

A party for kids, he had said. Kids.

As the argument continued, Marc growling at his reflection, Y/N came closer to hug him. That stopped him dead in his tracks, and probably his alters too.

"We won't celebrate Halloween if you don't want to."

"… Really ?"

"Yes. If you really don't want to. I understand."

As always when he received a little affection, Marc panicked, knowing very well what she meant, and immediately Steven took his place, a bit lost and disappointed that she was depriving him of his Halloween.

Even when Y/N offered to watch the movie he wanted, he continued to sulk.

She didn't know how to make him understand the heart of the problem. Luckily for her, Jake seemed to have caught on, catching Steven's attention, who relaxed a bit as he looked at the mirror.

"Oh. Is that why ? Marc, why didn't you say ? I didn't think it reminded you of… What ? There's no need to be rude, Jake. I may not speak Spanish, but I figured those were bad words."

"Jake, be nice to Steven."

"He said, 'Vale, cariño, pero sólo para ti, porque el pequeño Stevie es realmente estúpido en este momento'. No idea what that mea… Thanks for the translation, Marc."

"Is he feeling better ?"

"I think so, they're laughing at me together now."

"If we watch a horror movie, would that make you all happy ?"

"Hmm. Marc agrees. Jake says 'Stevie se va a asustar, pero me gusta la idea de que estés pegado a nosotros.'… Hey ! I'm not going to be scared of a movie !"

The question of disguise was then forgotten, because it wasn't that important after all. They were going to have a good time together, hugging each other in front of the television while eating chocolate, until Khonshu came to ruin this moment as always.

And then, Moon Knight would put on his ridiculous costume, like Marc had said.

[tonyspank]

WH0 R U 3???

Summary: Tara’s worst worries are back. Will they scare you away?

Warnings: kissing (ew! right??), ghostface, violence, and bad writing 😞

A/N: pt.4 finna be a lit crazy movie yall. ALSO WHO’S GHOSTFACE????? who r yall suspecting

part 1 part 2

"That feels so good." Tara groans out, closing her eyes and sinking deeper into the plush covers of your bed. You playfully roll your eyes, continuing to rub her feet. "You're such a drama queen," you tease, a smile playing on your lips. Tara lets out a contented sigh, her body relaxing under your touch.

Tara couldn't be any happier, her worries faded about you. You didn't distance yourself from her, if anything, you were the one who started approaching her, texting her random thoughts throughout the day, and surprising her with little gestures of affection.

She had never felt so loved and cherished before. As the days went by, Tara realized that her heart was slowly healing from past hurts, thanks to your unwavering presence in her life. Your constant support and affection made her feel secure and valued, allowing her to let go of her to fully embrace the happiness you brought into her life.

"Have you thought about it?" Tara asks. You snap your eyes from your daydream and meet her gaze. "I can't come to the party, sorry, Tara."

Tara lets out a dramatic groan, "The frat won't even care! You're a cool professor!"

You chuckle, "Maybe...but that's just unprofessional. If someone reports me to the university, it could jeopardize my job. I can't take that risk." Tara pouts, and then a lightbulb clicks in her head.

"What if you wore a mask?" Tara's eyes light up with excitement as she suggests, "You could disguise yourself and go incognito! No one would recognize you!"

You actually consider her idea for a moment, it could be a fun and safe way to attend the party without risking your professional reputation or job.

"Uhh..." you hesitate a bit, unsure if wearing a mask would fully protect your identity. However, the thought of attending the party without any consequences is tempting, and you begin to seriously consider Tara's suggestion. "I guess I could do that."

Tara's eyes light up with excitement as she hears your response. "Yes!" she exclaims, sitting up quickly before pulling you into a passionate kiss. You begin laughing in the kiss, bringing Tara into a hug as you place more kisses on her cheek.

-

"I'm having second thoughts." You mumble to Tara, now dressed as Batman, her matching as Catwoman. Tara playfully rolls her eyes, taking your hand and dragging you quicker towards the Halloween party. "Come on, don't be a party-pooper," she teases, smiling widely in excitement.

You both enter the Halloween party hand in hand, met with half-drunk college students dancing and mingling in their elaborate costumes.

"There's Mindy and Anika! I'll be right back, I'm gonna go say hello." You watch as Tara weaves through the crowd, disappearing into the sea of costumes. You stand there alone a loud sigh escaping your lips.

You walk into the kitchen, deciding to get a drink for both you and Tara. You don't get too far as you're stopped by a ghost.

"Can you hold this for me? I'll be really quick, I just have to use the bathroom." The girl hands you her ghost costume, rushing off in the direction of the bathroom.

You feel a tap on your shoulder and turn around to see Tara, grinning mischievously. "Changing costumes?" You chuckle and shake your head. "No, just holding it for someone. They'll be back soon." Tara raises an eyebrow curiously. You put the ghost costume over the two of you, smiling.

"I like this mask." You say, tracing over Tara's very accurate copy of Zoe Kravitz's Catwoman mask. Tara smirks and says, "Thank you." You snicker, smiling back at her before bringing her into a kiss.

Tara tries her hardest not to break the kiss with her wide smile. You made her so happy.

Suddenly, the blanket is pulled off of you both, revealing the owner of the costume. Tara ducks away, walking back towards the living room with a bashful expression.

"I'm so sorry! I didn't know—"

You cut her off with a wave. "You're fine, don't worry about it."

The owner of the costume smiles, walking away towards the kitchen. Tara blushes and shyly joins you again, causing you to chuckle. "Why'd you run? I thought the mask helped cover my identity?"You ask in a teasing tone, playfully nudging Tara.

She giggles, grabbing your hand and leading you further into the party.

"Batman!" You recognize the voice calling out to you. You turn to see Mindy, who ushers you over. You exchange a quick glance with Tara before making your way towards Mindy, with a bit of hesitation in your steps.

"Professor Y/LN, are you trying to duck me?" Mindy asks with a mischievous grin, causing you to laugh nervously, your heart pounding in your chest. How on earth did Mindy know it was you?

You try to play it cool, putting on a fake Russian accent—a bad one too. "Uh...Professor? I don't know of such guy." Mindy raises an eyebrow, clearly not buying your act. "Come on, I know it's you. No need for the accent," she says, smirking.

You sheepishly drop the accent, realizing that there's no fooling Mindy.

Anika joins in, "If you really wanted to hide your identity, you shouldn't have matched with Tara. I mean, who else has she been talking to lately? It's not exactly a secret that you two have been spending a lot of time together."

Mindy and Anika nod at each other in sync, leaving you feeling even more exposed.

"Can you guys, like...not pester Y/N? It's a party for Christ's sake," Tara interjects, coming to your defense. Mindy and Anika exchange surprised glances before finally relenting.

You breathe a sigh of relief before feeling yourself being pulled again.

You end up upstairs in an empty bedroom, sitting on the bed as Tara huffs to herself. She seems frustrated and agitated, her hands clenched into fists.

You can sense that she has something to say, but she struggles to find the right words. You take off your mask, sit up from the bed, and walk over to your girlfriend.

As you approach Tara, you gently place a hand on her shoulder, silently conveying your support and willingness to listen. Her tense expression softens slightly, and she takes a deep breath before finally finding the right words to speak her mind.

"I just wish we could be together without everyone judging us," Tara whispers. "It's exhausting constantly worrying about who sees us or what others will think or say about our relationship." You nod understandingly, softly grabbing her hand.

"Me too, T." You rub your thumb against the back of her hand, smiling. "If my job wasn't on the line, I would shout from the rooftops how much I adore you. But even though I can't, I hope you know I do truly cherish you."

Tara smiles. "I think I got that when you started giving me foot massages without protest." You chuckle, slightly rolling your eyes. "Yeah, I guess my secret is out."

Tara places a hand on the back of your neck, leaning in closer. "Well, lucky for you, I adore you too," she whispers, her breath warm against your lips.

Without breaking the kiss, you lift Tara, walking backwards, before laying her down on the bed and taking off her Catwoman mask.

Your favorite sound is heard—Tara's soft laughter playing in your ears. You break away from the kiss, kissing her face and neck. "I can't get enough of you," you confess, trailing kisses down her collarbone. Tara's fingers tangle in your hair as she pulls your mouth back toward hers.

"Tara!" You jump away from the girl, quickly trying to compose yourself. "Chad? What are you doing here?" Tara asks sitting up from the bed, surprised to see Chad standing in the doorway. You find your mask and turn around to see one of your students in the doorway, looking confused.

"Uh...Sam...Sam's here. She's downstairs looking for you." He stammers, his eyes darting between you and Tara. Tara glances at you, grabbing up her mask, before rushing out of the room to find Sam, Chad not too far behind.

You linger in the bedroom, not wanting to face Sam, and when you finally gather the courage to go downstairs, you slip out of the party and make your way home. Hoping your girlfriend isn't in too much trouble with her older sister.

When you're at home, fresh out of the shower, your phone begins ringing. Without even looking at the caller ID, you answer it. "Tara?"

The voice on the other end of the line is not Tara's, but it sounds very familiar. "So sorry to disappoint, but this isn't Tara." You furrow your brow in confusion, trying to place the voice.

"Who is this?" you ask, your heart pounding with anticipation.

"Now, where would the fun be in telling you that?" the voice teases. "You know, you should stay away from Tara."

You remember the voice. Ghostface—was this real? Or was this Laura pretending again?

Your mind races as you try to comprehend the situation.

No, it couldn't be. "Laura? Is this you?" The voice chuckles softly. "Why don't you turn on the news and see what happened to your co-worker? Maybe then you'll begin to understand this isn't some silly prank call."

No, it can't be.

Your hand trembles as you reach for the remote, flipping on the television. The news anchor's voice fills the room, confirming your worst fears - Laura's lifeless body had been found just hours ago.

"You see, Y/N? It's easy to get away with murder. Do you want to be the next professor on the list?" Your heart races as you try to comprehend the chilling words. You might be the next target of this deranged individual.

You run to your kitchen, all your knives are gone. Fuck! They had to be inside your apartment, but when?

Immediately, you run to your front door, opening it quickly, your eyes widening when Ghostface stands there, holding a knife and wearing a menacing mask.

You don't have any time to react. Ghostface stabs you in the shoulder, sending a searing pain through your body. The adrenaline kicks in, and you manage to push Ghostface away, slamming your door shut.

You quickly lock the door, desperately searching for a way to defend yourself.

Ghostface starts to kick on your door, trying to break it down. Panicking, you grab a nearby heavy object, ready to defend yourself if necessary. The kicks grow louder and more forceful, and you brace yourself for what might come next, prepared to protect yourself at all costs.

Ghostface successfully breaks down the door, lunging towards you with a knife. With quick reflexes, you swing the heavy object at Ghostface, making contact and momentarily stunning them. Seizing the opportunity, you sprint towards the front door and down your apartment steps.

You don't look back, you keep sprinting as fast as your legs can carry you. You manage to make it to the crowded streets, where you blend in with the bustling city dwellers.

Your heart pounds in your chest as you search for a safe place to hide, constantly glancing over your shoulder to ensure Ghostface isn't following.

A body clashes with yours, you jump slightly and instinctively brace yourself for an attack, but it's just...Tara?

"Tara?" you say, slightly out of breath. "W-what? Why..? What are you doing here?" Tara looks at you, confused but mostly relieved.

"Sam left the apartment to go to the police station after we saw the news of Professor Crane... I was just worried about you and wanted to make sure you were okay. And I...I was scared and wanted to be with you." Tara explains, her eyes staring into yours, full of vulnerability.

But it's soon replaced with worry, her eyes finding their way to your bloody shoulder. But it's soon replaced with worry, her eyes finding their way to your bloody shoulder.

She gasps and softly pulls you closer to examine the wound.  'What happened? Are you okay?"

"Ghostface called me and attacked me. Fucking lunatic was outside my apartment," you say through gritted teeth, wincing as Tara's gentle touch brushes against the wound. "He said something about staying away from you."

Tara's concern deepens as she hears your explanation, her brows furrowing in both fear and anger, regardless, she stays silent, unsure of what to say.

You clench your jaw. "But that's not happening, T. I won't let him scare me away. I adore you, remember?"

[spence-whore]

Stressful long days

Damien Haas x Reader

AN i lied, i went ahead and finished this little x reader just now. totaallllyyyy not procrastinating working on a final, whaaaaat? couldn’t be meeee. on another note though, this was the first time in almost five years i have written something like this. i actually used to post damien haas imagines on wattpad whenever i was in my senior year of high school. wild. If this is bad, I apologize. I’m kinda rusty. I’m going to try and get some more up asap though! Remember if you have any requests, please send them my way!

.

.

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Today has been actual hell. You work in IT at an office and you usually don’t have much to do besides help people here and there. Today, it was like everyone was having problems with the new program that they were all supposed to switch to. You were technically supposed to go home at 5pm but it is now 8pm. You slowly pulled yourself up the steps to your shared apartment with Damien. The only things you could hear around you were others in their apartments, watching TV and faint talking. It was so tempting to just flop down on the step and just take a break but seeing Damien was the reward of pushing yourself up the steps.

���Just a few more steps, Y/N. You can do it.” You whispered to yourself, trudging up the last few steps and grabbing your keys out of your pockets. The sound of little paws booking it to the door thumped from the other side.

“Hi loves!” You just threw your jacket off and dropped to the ground to love on Zelda and Freyja.

“Y/N? Is that you?” Damien’s voice echoed from the living room.

“Nope, just a stranger, breaking in to rob you.” You shouted back while giving the two cats head scratches.

“Ha-ha, you’re just sooo hilarious.” Damien says giggling, while peaking his head around the corner.

“I know, I truly deserve an award for being the funniest.” You just gave him a half assed smile. He could tell from the look on your face and the fact you weren’t roasting him, something was up.

“What’s going on in that little head of yours? Busy day?” He asked while walking towards you and sticking his hand out, to help you up.

“You could say that. Would you maybe wanna just order food and we could relax and watch a movie?” You suggest hoping that he won’t oblige to the request.

“Of course, go change into some comfy clothes and go get on the couch. I’ll get it all set up.” He said with a smile while helping you stand back up.

You took a few minutes to yourself in your bedroom, before getting changed into sweatpants and an old shirt of Damien’s. You took a little bit longer while in the bathroom because you wanted to wash the grime off your face from the day.

You practically threw yourself on the couch and sighed really loudly into the pillow. “Do you wanna talk about it or do you just wanna eat then watch a movie and cuddle?” You hear Damien ask from the doorway. He had a bag that had takeout in it, in his hand.

“I’m just so mentally drained. We started using a new program at work and it did not want to work for absolutely anyone. I was having to delete it and redownload it for so many people today. I didn’t think they would hold me there that long but nope.” You took a really deep breath before turning around onto your back. It felt like tears were starting to well up so quickly in your eyes, one little comment and they would come flooding out. “Will you just come hold me for a few minutes then we can eat? Please?”

Damien didn’t even give you the opportunity to think about everything going on in your head before you were yanked up off the couch into his arms. He was holding you bridal style while you just giggled. “What are you doing, dude?” You asked.

“Uuuuuh, picking up my partner, so I can lay down on the couch and put said partner on top of me. So, I can fulfill their request. You biiiiig dummmmmyyyyy.” He laid back on the couch with you still in his arms then he let you go, so you can get comfortable.

You turned around, on your stomach, so your chin was on his chest and you were looking up at him. “Okay, one, rude. What did we say about name calling?”

He cut you off before you could continue, “We never said anything about name calling because I like picking on you. It’s the way I show my love.” He said while resting his hands on your back and staring down at you.

“Touché and two, I can’t thank you enough for just being so caring. I genuinely don’t know what I would do, if I didn’t have you to come home to.” A smile flooded Damien’s face, as he yanked you up closer to him and he pressed a kiss onto your forehead.

“You would probably go absolutely bonkers, if we’re being honest.” He whispered, giggling whenever you acted offended

You just laid there, tracing your finger alongside the tattoos, trying to not cry. It felt more and more like a damn starting to overflow.

“I’m really proud of you. You have come so far compared to where you were a few years ago. You didn’t think you would even get this position and was terrified about starting your career. You thought your entire college years were going to just go to waste. Look at you now. You have a job, where you are loved. Everyone comes to you whenever they need help, whenever there are many other people they could go to. You are the sunshine in everyone’s day. They know they will never have to deal with someone rude whenever they need assistance. You always keep up this mask like everything is a -okay, so they won’t feel bad for bothering you. I’ve seen you while you’re at work. Maybe, you should see if you can get a day off here soon and we can just lounge around all day.”

You immediately bursted into tears because of his words. You’ll never understand why or how he can put up with you, constantly being so stressed and drained but he does. You couldn’t be more thankful for him.

“Hey, hey. It’s okay.” He whispered pulling you closer to him and pressed kisses all over your face with dramatic signs in between, trying to draw a laugh from you. “Take a moment to just let it all out then let’s eat because I can hear your stomach growling and it sounds like there is an angry goblin inside of you.”

[vitentia]

MEDDLE ABOUT .lıllıl.

pairings ━━ street racer!ellie x fem!reader

warnings ━━ TOTALLY AND ENTIRELY inspired by the movie Culpa Mia bc I am obsessed, jealous!ellie, illegal street racing, questionably dangerous circumstances, fighting, use of a gun (not against anyone)

synopsis ━━ ellie williams, notoriously infamous street racer, wanted in many countries both by law enforcement and desire. desire for her car, her skills, her money, and especially what she could do with those hands beyond driving. luckily for you, her favorite grid girl was the only the only one she ever wanted.

playlist ━━ literally any chase atlantic song ever

Your friends excitedly pulled your arm, ooo-ing and awing at everything under the neon lights. A girl friend squealed into your shoulder as an attractive racer walked by and gave her a wink.

“Holy shit! You never told me you had such sex symbols walking your job like an all you can eat buffet.” You snorted at her and shook your head.

“All you can eat maybe but I actually have a job to do.”

“Oh, please, you mean to tell me nobody in here has tried to get with you? That you’ve never been tempted?”

You shrugged, “I never said that.”

Walking your friends over to the gathering crowd, you provided them front row seats to the open road arena and stepped away to lean your head into your favorite car.

“Williams.”

The short haired girl whistled lowly. “Aha, there’s my favorite girl. You gonna be shooting for me tonight?”

“Nah, Dina wanted to do it today.”

Ellie clicked her teeth. “Damn, I was hoping I’d see you in something sexy before I race this asshole.” She nodded her head in the direction of her opponent.

Cameron, upper middle class douchebag who thought he could win every race by being reckless and owning expensive cars. He winked at you from outside his car before sitting inside, no doubt trying to rile Ellie up.

You rolled your eyes and faced her again, “Ignore him. His fancy little cars are no match for this baby.”

“No match for my baby, you mean.” You made a confused face. “Hop in the passenger seat.”

“Woah hold on, you don’t let anyone in this car.” You responded, shock and surprise laced in your voice.

She smirked. “I’ve let you on top of it.”

Both anxious and excited, you bit your lip and looked at her blood red car. “Are you sure?”

“No time like the present, baby. Get in.”

You squealed and ran around the front of the car to get into the passenger seat, your friends shouting sexual jokes at you from afar. Once your bottom hit the plush leather seats you nearly moaned, flipping down the upward mirror, opening the dashboard, all of it was just so…exciting.

“You have been in a car before, right?” Ellie said sarcastically, watching your enjoyment.

“Yeah but never your car. It’s like a spaceship.” You gleamed, she smiled at you and shook her head, resting her arm out the window as Dina sauntered over between the two cars.

She read the basic rules and the promised dollar amount to the loser, roughly around 7k and spoke to each person in the car. When she came around you and Ellie, you leaned on the elbow rest and called out to her from the window.

“Your ass looks great in those jeans, D!” She turned around, hair whipping behind her and gave you a wink as Ellie scoffed.

“Why didn’t you tell me my ass looks good?” She asked, offended.

“It looks good, not as good as Dina’s though.” Your smirked.

Right then, she revved up the engine, hands sitting properly at the wheel and her plan already in motion. Dina stood between the two cars, raising the gun high in the air before finally breaking the tension and letting out a shot.

Before you could even blink, the car was already swiveling through the air. Your heart felt like it was in your throat as you grabbed onto the upper handle for support, but your mind was ecstatic over the adrenaline rush you got.

You didn’t even realize you were smiling and laughing until Ellie broke her concentration to admire you.

The moment fell short when Cameron’s sports car bumped roughly into Ellie’s from behind, sending you forward in your seat with your seatbelt forcing you back.

“What the fuck?” She cursed, bracing herself on the steering wheel before craning her eyes in your passenger side mirror to see.

Cameron pushed into the back of the car again, this time, his smirk visible for both of you to see.

Ellie tilted her head menacingly at him through the rear view mirror and revved up her engine, her knuckles turning white against the steering wheel as she prepared for a particularly sharp turn. You clasped the upper handle harder than before and prepared yourself for the increase in speed. Wind blew about the car dramatically and once the car finished its straight illegal turn, your butt planted on the seat and you finally allowed yourself to breath.

Ellie didn’t say a word nor look in your direction, her eyes pointedly eyeing the finish line with vigor. If you weren’t so attracted to her angry face, you’d be slightly worried.

Cameron expensive car rolled up on its side once Ellie made it past the finish line and it’s owner came out of it in anger. He slammed the door shut uncaringly and stomped over to you and Ellie like a child. You slipped next to Ellie but she lightly pushed you behind her and stood to her full height against the prissy boy.

“You fucking bitch!” He cursed

“Calling me names doesn’t help you, upper side. My money is owed.” She responded calmly, scarier than if she yelled back.

Jesse ran up in the middle and inserted himself between them. “Let it go, man. You lost fair and square.”

Cameron scoffed, unbelieving. “I ain’t giving you nothing. You or your little prostitute, Williams.”

Ellie swore her vision turned red as she revved up her arm for a mean right hook before abruptly being interrupted by Jesse holding her back.

“Not now, Els.” He whispered to her.

Cameron chuckled at her reaction and looked you up and down, sending a shiver up your spine. “Maybe I will pay for you, how much you charge a night-“

As soon as the boy started talking, Jesse mumbled something under his breath and promptly let go of the seething girl in his arms, raising them up to his sides and pressing his lips into a thin line. Without anymore resistance, Ellie swung her fist across Cameron’s jaw and a jaw dropping crack was heard from feet away. You gasped and slapped your hand over your mouth as she pushed him to the ground and pressed her black and white converse into his freshly cracked jaw.

“You’ll hear from my lawyers, you bitch.” He coughed out, barely eligible.

Ellie smirked and leaned down, hand against her knee. “I’ll be glad to tell them all you’ve been up to, Cameron Trevor Mallard Jr.” She roughly pulled her foot away and nodded towards Jesse. “Collect my money and bring it to me by tomorrow.”

No words were exchanged as she took your hand in hers and directed you to the passenger seat, opening the door and buckling you up herself before moving to her side and driving away from everyone. You looked back through the window, jaw agape.

“I’ll tell Jesse to make sure your friends get home safe, okay? I just- I just didn’t want to be alone.” She said, breaths shaking alongside her hands.

“Hey, come on, pull over. You can’t drive like this.” You said gently, putting your hand on her shoulder.

Listening to your words, Ellie pulled over to the side of a gravel road and took a deep breath. Your hand slipped under hers and examined the cuts on her knuckles, kissing them softly.

“You shouldn’t have-“

“No, I should have.” She finally looked at you. “Besides, I’ve been wanted to do put that kid in place for ages. You just gave me good reason.”

You smiled and averted your eyes from her intense gaze, but she leaned forward in her seat and brushed her nose against yours, forcing you to look at her.

“Thank you.” You whispered

She smirked, “Ah, you’re such a sap.” Ellie pressed her lips against yours, undecided on whether she wanted to swallow you whole or take it slow. With the moonlight bouncing off her tinted windows and the darkness of the night shielding you both from any prying eyes, she finally decided to do both.

[wholoveseggs]

Christmas Khaos

{Masterlist}

~Five days of Fluffmas~

You settle in with the Mikaelsons for a cozy Christmas movie night, but when movie choices spark a sibling feud, chaos ensues.

1k words - No warnings, no smut! just pure fluff.

You were cautiously carrying your mug of hot cocoa into the living room of the Mikaelson compound, observing Kol and Rebekah putting the finishing touches on the Christmas tree as you sat down on the sofa next to Elijah. The plan for the evening involved watching one of those cheesy holiday movies while snuggling in blankets with hot cocoa or eggnog.

"So, what movie did you all decide on?" you asked curiously.

"Die Hard," Kol smirked as he finished placing the last ornament on the tree.

"We already watched that a few days ago," Klaus huffed as he walked into the room. "I want to watch the Grinch."

"Of course you do," Kol scoffed.

"Those movies are terrible. We should watch a better one, like Love Actually!" Rebekah argued.

You turned to Elijah, who had decided not to involve himself in the argument. As the rest of the siblings bickered, you asked him quietly, "What do you want to watch?"

He looked over at his arguing siblings, then back at you. "I will always vote for whatever you want to watch."

You blushed and smiled, "Awww. That's sweet, but I'd still like to know your opinion. Do you have a preference?"

He was silent for a moment, looking deep in thought. "The Nutcracker."

"Seriously?" Kol said, breaking out of the argument he was having.

"Absolutely, The Nutcracker it is then," you announced, earning a raised eyebrow from Kol.

"Are we seriously going to watch a ballet?" he exclaimed, feigning disbelief.

Rebekah rolled her eyes, "Oh, come on, Kol! It's a classic! Plus, it's way better than your Die Hard obsession."

Kol shot back, "Die Hard is a Christmas masterpiece, unlike your sugary romantic dramas."

"We are watching The Nutcracker," Elijah said firmly.

The siblings groaned, but they still settled into the living room. You got up to put the movie in the DVD player, then returned to the sofa, sitting between Kol and Elijah. You grabbed the remote, and when you went to press play, nothing happened. You tried again, same result.

Elijah let out a deep sigh and stood, kneeling in front of the TV to fix the issue. Kol turned to you, giving you a sweet smile.

"So, darling, have any plans for New Year's?"

"Yeah," you nodded. "I'm going to a party in the Quarter."

"A party," he hummed. "I suppose you will be needing a ride there."

You gave him a questioning look. "Yeah… I guess."

He leaned in close to you, whispering into your ear, "I will gladly take you. In fact, I could take you home as well."

He leaned back, giving you a devious smirk. You bit your lip, feeling a little flustered. Kol was so hot, and the two of you had hooked up a few times. He was always so sweet and charming afterward and was just a good time in general. However, sometimes he was a little too flirty and mischievous for your taste. He had a habit of getting you into trouble. As his hand came down to rest on your thigh, you realized how easy it was for him to talk you into doing something reckless and dangerous. You had already done a lot of reckless things with him.

"H-how's the TV looking?" you asked Elijah, trying not to sound flustered.

"I can't figure out the source of the problem," Elijah replied, looking behind the TV.

Kol's hand started slowly inching higher up your leg. Your breath hitched as his thumb brushed against the inseam of your pants. You looked up to see Kol's smirk widen. He was really enjoying messing with you, and you were tempted to let him.

"Well, if it's not getting fixed anytime soon, I'll go get another hot cocoa," Rebekah announced, walking past the couch.

Suddenly the room erupted into chaos, the beautiful Christmas tree came crashing down, ornaments shattering on impact and scattering across the floor like glittering confetti. The air was filled with the jarring sound of glass breaking and the collective gasp of astonishment from everyone present. Everyone looked at it in shock, then jumped as the TV began blasting Christmas music at an alarming volume.

"Oh, for the love of—" Klaus started, but his voice was drowned out by the blaring Christmas music.

Elijah, still on his knees in front of the TV, frantically tried to mute the sound.

"Klaus, what did you do now?" Rebekah exclaimed, narrowing her eyes accusingly.

Kol, seizing the opportunity, grinned mischievously, "I bet Klaus sabotaged the tree to avoid watching The Nutcracker. Crafty move, brother."

“How am I getting blamed for this? I was standing across the room!” Klaus yelled in defense.

Rebekah crossed her arms, unconvinced. "Convenient, Klaus. Very convenient."

Kol chimed in, "Maybe the tree was threatened by Klaus's Grinchy energy."

Amidst the chaos, Elijah rose from in front of the TV, his calming presence attempting to restore order. "Enough, all of you! Let's focus on cleaning up this mess and salvaging what's left of our evening."

As Rebekah and Klaus continued to argue, and Elijah attempted to restore order, Kol's lips brushed against your ear again, his tone suggestive, "Care to get out of here?"

"Absolutely," you said, getting up from the couch.

Kol grabbed your hand and led you upstairs to his room. The moment you both entered, he pulled you into a kiss. The door closed behind you, muffling the echoes of the Mikaelson drama downstairs. Kol's mischievous grin persisted as he gently pulled away, guiding you backward towards his bed.

"Care to share what exactly you did downstairs?" you asked, a playful glint in your eyes.

"Just a little Christmas magic, darling," he smiled, leaning in to kiss you again.

You were sure the Mikaelsons would figure out it was Kol and come looking for him, but you weren't too worried. You knew how much trouble Kol was going to get in. Maybe you'd let him get away with it for a little while.

Besides, it was the most wonderful time of the year.

Credit goes to Anon for this idea ♡♡

[cybertron-after-dark]

You should write beast wars, can I have some silly predacon headcanons?

I should absolutely write beast wars. Silly Predacon headcanons coming up

-Megatron talks battle strategy with his rubber duck all the time. He considers it his most trusted advisor because it's never said anything stupid and never tried to kill him. Honestly, he's tempted to think of the little dude as his only real friend.

-Speaking of Megatron, the man is a WHORE for a good bath bomb. Lush addiction, 100%. He has a whole hidden stock of bath bombs, bath salts, scented oils, candles, decorative soaps, scented metal polish and flower petals specifically for spoiling himself when he feels like hes completely surrounded by idiots. Which is often. Has he ever tried to eat one of the decorative soaps that look like baked goods? It doesn't count if it's the t rex hand.

-the reason skorponok occasionally reverts into caveman speak for some episodes is the writers couldn't figure out what to do with him he knows talking like that pisses off tarantulas and he thinks his annoyance is funny even though literally nobody else is amused by the bit.

-skorponok actually kind of misses dinobot because he made his job a lot easier. Constantly pitching ideas, suggesting battle strategies, pointing out flaws in plans. He was useful, even if he seemed to hate skorponok. He doesn't really know how to be a good second in command anymore because a crucial part of the dynamic is missing and he just can't adapt.

-waspinator is perfectly capable of speaking in normal grammar and not in the third person but he's been doing it since he joined in with Megatron and at this point he thinks he's in too deep to knock it off. He thinks it makes him sound cuter because it's actually an evolution of internet uwu speak. Memes get weirdly translated from earth to Cybertron and back.

-waspinator is actually really good at baking but he'll get blasted to bits a thousand times over before he lets anyone other than terrorsaur know because none of his other coworkers deserve to try his cupcakes (and also because he doesn't want to get "promoted" to kitchen slave). Dinobot knew, but he didn't snitch. Wasp never found out that Dinobot would occasionally snag a brownie, he always thought he just counted wrong.

-Terrorsaur is not above attempting to seduce a maximal but all his flirting attempts go horribly awry. If they don't outright reject him they just have no idea what he's getting at bc Predacon flirting is usually a lot different than maximal flirting so everyone thinks he's just kind of being a dick like usual. Dinobot knows exactly what is happening and ranges anywhere from amused to disgusted by the cross-faction fling attempts. The flying weasel clearly has no principles.

-Every couple weeks or so wasp and terrorsaur will get together to watch terrible movies over a bottle of highgrade and it always devolves into bitching about megatron. They tried inviting tarantulas a few times but he'd always make things Weird by bringing in slashers with really good special effects and proceeding to gush about how tasty the gore looks.

-Tarantulas knows what just about every living species in the known galaxy tastes like, organic, mechanical and everything in between. If it's made contact with Cybertron, chances are he's he's tried their flesh (or lack thereof). If it's at all possible, he wants to find out enough about the Vok to figure out how to capture, kill and eat one.

-Tarantulas also thinks rampage is a total poser when it comes to cannibalism. He doesn't even look like he's having fun with it. Barely any torturing or teasing beforehand, only dramatic monologues about fear and anguish. Bah! Amateur...

-Blackarachnia has a trash tv addiction. She doesn't know WHY the Darksyde's datatrax has every season of Keeping Up with the Kardashians and like 30 TLC produced shows, but she refuses to stop watching them. Tarantulas fucking hates it. She does not care and if he complains she will turn the volume higher.

-Blackarachnia has incredibly mixed feelings on the story Cinderella. On the one hand, it gives her a degree of hope. A girl reduced to a work slave for terrible people that gets to escape and live it up with a guy that lives her? Great conceptually, but she only got to get out of it because she was a good person and nice to everyone. Blackarachnia? Not quite so disgustingly sweet. She's a bad girl through and through. And evidently bad people don't get to escape bad situations. Oh well. She can always try to fake it til she makes it.

-Inferno has always secretly hoped that when the war is over, his Queen Megatron will settle down with him and repopulate the colony together. He has wildly saccharine domestic daydreams of being with his giant beloved lizardy queen and their 3000+ kids. He has accidentally let this slip around Megatron once, who proceeded to pointedly ignore what he just said.

-Terrorsaur and Blackarachnia got Inferno to watch Drag Race but upon hearing the contestants being called queen, he took it a bit too literally and interpreted the show as the sad, underwhelming way human queens settle disputes between their colonies instead of just fighting the proper way. Lame.

-Quickstrike is so so very sad he can't play video games. He wants to play GTA and cause excessive and wanton death and destruction, but his fucked up hands cannot hold the controller. He forsakes Primus for building him the way he did. He keeps trying to get tarantulas to make him a usable controller but he gets brushed off every time.

-Quickstrike has attempted to ride inferno in his beast mode into battle. It did not end well but for about a solid 18 seconds it looked metal as hell.

-Rampage actually really likes depth charge and wants to be friends sooooo bad but he doesn't know how to handle that in a healthy way so he keeps trying to get his attention by playing up the cannibalism thing and hoping they fight again. Honestly he just kind of likes depth charge holding him, even if it's in a chokehold.

-After losing transmutate, Rampage projected a lot of his grief onto waspinator, which lead to a very strange period of time on the ship where rampage would get very cuddly and protective of wasp, who was incredibly terrified of what would happen if he shoved the crab off. Usually accompanied by Rampage being Incredibly Sad.

-every month the preds have a game night. Usually a board game or card game with Megatron's house rules. Said house rules are specifically designed to make a fight break out for his amusement. These game nights typically end with at least three people in the r-chamber and somebody missing at least one limb.

[kaolovess]

JIMIN DATING HEADCANONS

AUTHORS NOTE: Third post! I also got my first request today<33. Sorry, this one is a bit shorter than the others. Hope this is to your liking, Love you!

WORD COUNT: 448

One word

Flirt

Sometimes it's like it’s all he does.

But he's overall very sweet.

Definition of love at first sight.

Thinks of you as his soulmate :((

You guys are literally the trope “fell first, Fell harder”

Dates are pretty simple, he isn’t a very fancy person. Besides he spoils you enough with just gifts.

Would take you to a cafe or the movie theater. 100% has your order memorized by heart. Knows what movies you may like too. (he never misses)

Also pretty simple when it comes to nicknames (nothing wrong with that) He’s just a simple man.

Calls you “Love” or “baby” or maybe “sweetie”

Texts you 24/7, He just wants to talk to you 24/7 🤷.

Ranges from “How are you?” to “Come home already”

He may be a flirt but blushes so hard when you make a move. Even the smallest thing would make him red. Hold his hand? Red as a tomato, Kiss his cheek? Smiling ear to ear.

Buys you gifts, Buys you many things actually, If he happens to pass by your favorite store he would 100% go in to get you something small.

He’s such a comedian. 

Could have you dying of laughter in one sentence.

Pretty protective of the members so probably the same towards you. Not in a controlling way, but just enough to make you feel safe :)

Doesn’t get extremely jealous, but he does get a little jelly at times. (hates to see people flirting with you:( )

So good at comforting and reassuring you. I mean have you seen that video of him watching over Tae when He and Jin argued??

Pretty clumsy too, You've been tempted to glue his chair to the floor.

He somehow manages to trip on air??

Probably doesn’t post about you online a lot. 

100% cuddles in the morning, I mean doesn’t he look like a love bug?

You guys have a LOT of deep talks, He's genuinely such a good listener.

He definitely writes songs about you. You probably won’t find out till it’s out. (he’s just too shy to show you).

Takes AMAZING care of you when you are sick, Like he insists you lay in bed all day.

Randomly grabs your ass

Likes to hear you sing his songs (even though he gets very flustered.)

He would honestly do anything if you told him to. 

I think he would want you to meet the boys. He’s very close with them so naturally I think he would want to know his lover.

Your besties with jhope

He was also nervous to meet your parents, not because he was worried about what they would think of him, just nervous.

[maskedemerald]

Weaving Webs CH5

Here is chapter five of my Invisobang fic! The wonderful @pricklenettle did some fantastic art that you'll see embedded through out the fic!

You can check out the fic here or on AO3!

If you like this consider dropping us both a follow!

Warnings: Body horror, manipulation, Spectra is her own content warning, Burns, Spider - for like 2 chapters then it goes away.

The Fenton parents were there when the accident happened, they saw Danny die in an act of sabotage. Now they’re just trying to go on with the strange ghost that is all that's left of Danny. While their old college friend is wondering where the subjects of his revenge are.

[First] [Previous] [Next]

Chapter Five

Jack knocked on the door of Jazz’s bedroom. She’d been shut in her room aside from the occasional appearance in the kitchen for meals since the incident. It had only been a few days but he couldn’t help but be worried. She also wasn’t answering. He knew it wasn’t intentionally Danny’s fault, the ghost was downstairs waiting. Add on to that the ghost didn’t seem to have any intentional actions.

“Jazzerincess? We're watching a movie! Something fun!” He called through the door hoping that it would tempt her.

There was a long silence before a strained voice replied, “can't Dad, I've got too much catching up to do.”

He frowned, he should have expected that. She’d always been deep into her school work, it made sense that she’d throw herself into it even more now. What would Jazz call it? A coping mechanism?

“You sure?”

“Yes Dad.”

“Then how about we all help out in the kitchen?” He offered, that would help right?

“… no,” she said quietly, “I… just go away…”

Jack sighed, slumping as he moved away from the door. He’d been hoping for just a little bit of normal. For all of them. He’d managed to pull Maddie out of the lab and actually for once Danny was the easiest to get involved, but he tried not to think about why.

Jack trudged back down the stairs to the living room where Maddie and Danny were waiting. Maddie sat on the sofa, her limbs held close and taught, ready to move at a moment's notice. Her eyes not even straying up to him from watching Danny. He hated how uncomfortable everyone was. Even him.

He dropped onto the sofa, it sagged and Maddie tilted into him. She jolted and then relaxed against him, marginally. Danny looked up at him from where he was curled up on one of the arm chairs. Jack doubted he had legs right now with how twisted up he was. There was a questioning tilt to his head. The lights overhead flickered a little and a line scanned across the TV. It was just a little off from the consistent flickers that Danny caused.

“Is Jazz coming?” Maddie asked.

“She said no… I don’t think she’s doing well.”

Maddie sighed, “I don’t think any of us are. She’ll work through it in her own time. We can’t rush her. Just give her space,” she paused, “it's better that way anyway. At least up there she’s not near the ghost. Not in danger.”

“Right…” he glanced at Danny’s ghost, “you still want to watch?”

The TV fizzed with static, the screen sharply filling with snow. Danny shot off flying past the TV and up through the ceiling. Had he understood what was going on?

“I hope he isn't mad…” Jack frowned looking at where he had vanished.

“You saw how it reacted. We should go find it before it does something,” Maddie said, getting to her feet.

“It's Danny, Maddie. he'll come round,” Jack consoled.

“That was before he was a ghost… we still don't know when the other shoe will drop,” she looked away, “I don’t want it to but all the research says it will happen.”

Jack’s face fell. He didn’t want to think like that either. He wanted to think that Danny was different. He’d seemed so excited to be watching a movie together after everything that had happened but they couldn’t be sure if he really understood what was happening aside from them all sitting together. It was so hard to tell anything with him no matter how much Jack wanted to believe that he was just the same Danny. He wouldn’t be, there was no way that this Danny wasn’t different. Their research was certain of that. Their research said if a ghost didn’t get what it wanted then destruction and chaos was only a matter of time.

“Dad! Something’s wrong with my laptop!” Jazz’s voice called down the stairs.

Maddie frowned, “you check on Jazz. I’ll look for Danny.”

Jack nodded, he wanted to look for Danny too but Jazz needed support. Fixing her laptop was something even if it wasn’t as big an impact as he was hoping for. Both of them headed up the stairs but Maddie turned to go to Danny’s room. One Danny hadn’t been in at all the last few days. He’d mostly been sticking close to the rest of them. The chill that had vanished when Danny left returned at the top of the stairs. A confirmation that he was still upstairs and hadn’t looped back down into another room. That he hadn’t tried to go through the roof. Technically it was ghost proofed but there had never been a chance to test it with a real ghost.

Jazz's laptop screen was completely covered by a snowstorm of static. the speakers sounded like crumpling tinfoil and uncomfortably electrical. It would fizz and crackle as the static distorted Even more across the display. Jack tapped at buttons to no effect. Whatever this was, he was going to need his tool kit and a replacement screen. Maybe even a whole new laptop with the noise the speakers were making.

“Huh looks like your screen’s gone. Oh maybe we have something we can use in the lab!”

Jazz’s frustrated expression dropped and she paled, “no! No need. I’ll… I’ll just plug it into Danny’s monitor. No need for experimental things from the lab Dad.”

Jack deflated, right. Of course that was a bad idea. Even if it was sabotage they still didn’t know if anything else was affected. Jazz would want nothing to do with the lab after what happened.

“Right, okay no lab stuff. How about we check it with Danno’s monitor and if it's still funny I’ll take it to a repair shop tomorrow.”

Jazz nodded and leant over to reach the plug under her desk. She yelped and her chair clattered to the floor. She stumbled backwards leaving a clear view of under her desk. What he had thought was a light from her checking the plug already was actually the glow of Danny. The ghost was huddled under the desk, knees pulled up to his chest in a way that shouldn’t have been possible in the bulky suit if he wasn’t a ghost. His glowing eyes were watching them. His hands tangled in the power cable.

Jack startled, grabbing Jazz and pulling her back before he had a chance to think. Danny was unlikely to be a danger at the moment. He was probably just there because Jazz was.

“Danny?” Jazz breathed.

“Fizzzt crackle Jazz zpt Jazzy crackle fizzzt,” her speakers crackled as Danny twisted the power cable.

The noise was grating like nails down a chalkboard but at the same time there was something he was sure he’d heard in all that crackling static. It had been her name. Jazzy was something static didn’t normally sound like.

“Jazzy? Wait… are you… are you talking?”

“Ghost Speak! The tech interference is Ghost Speak! Mads, mads! Did you hear that!”

He was talking! There had been theories about the interference being an attempt to communicate in the research for years but there had never been definitive proof. Most recordings had just been white noise and the words too indistinct enough to actually be words. Even before this Danny’s interference had just been proximity based. Had he been trying to communicate all that time and only just figured it out?

Maddie whipped through the door, her pistol ready. Still expecting the other shoe to have dropped. Jack was less concerned, if Danny was going to do anything he would have before he was discovered.

“What happened?” she asked, aiming the pistol defensively.

“Danno’s talking!” Jack grinned.

“Talking?” She blinked, surprised. The weapon was lowered slightly.

“Fizzzt crackle lone? zpt lonely? Crackle sad fizzzt.” the laptops speakers garbled out.

Maddie stared. Jack let Jazz go, Danny wasn’t the threat. They were. He was a lonely child, a one that depending how much he remembered had been through something horrifyingly traumatic. And Maddie and him were treating him like a ticking time bomb. Jack had wanted to believe but he was still on edge. Expecting the worst despite his hope. He didn’t even hesitate to pull Jazz away.

Jazz sat down on her bed, more a slump than a sit. Tears down her face. Jack had a feeling she was also blaming herself for avoiding Danny.

“You’re not, we’re here Danny,” she muttered softly.

Jack pushed Maddie’s pistol lower and approached Danny, “it's alright Danno. We’re all here. You're not alone.”

“Fizzt Jazzt… Jazzt fizzt zpt lonely… Crackle”

It was hard to understand the words past the crackle and static. Not to mention the fragmented broken nature of the words. It helped that his eyes were focused on Jazz past him.

“Fizzzt missssss you… crackle Jazzzt alone Fizzt”

“Me?” Jazz questioned, “all this and you’re worrying about me? Oh Danny. I’m… okay okay, I’m not alright. I just…”

That was Danny, or at least some of Danny. A small confirmation that something more had carried over. He knew them, he could communicate and he was worrying about Jazz. Or at least that's what it looked like. He could see it in Maddie’s face. The way she still held the pistol that she was still wary. Still doubtful. It actually gave Jack a little hope that there was more of Danny in there.

“The movie is still on the table,” he offered.

Jazz nodded, “okay… I’ll try.”

[First] [Previous] [Next]

With that we have words for Danny! His mind's not all there and he doesn't know how to people but he speaks.

[justbelievinginmagic]

ariadne's thread ⎯ pt. 10: betrayal.

pairing(s): hyunjin x fem!reader, jisung x fem!reader, jisung & fem!reader, chan & fem!reader, changbin & fem!reader series summary: when tempted by an intoxicating offer by hyunjin the goblin king of the underground, you fight against him to find your own sense of self once more while in his labyrinth. glimpse: with the aid of the king's knight, the quest continues into a humid forest as the party begin to recall their pasts and retrace their steps to the labyrinth; jisung is forced to choose a future. warnings/tags: inspired by the 1986' movie Labyrinth, follows majority of the movie's plot points with lore divergence, 3rd person POV, use of Y/N, faerie lore, world-building, explicit language, no hyunjin appearance fyi, betrayal, hunger, magic, guilt, implied drugging, some relationship building, a lot of lore building tbh, all the labyrinth animals are actually from the dark crystal: age of resistance which i watch to get into the mood to write sometimes, other than thatttttt lemme know if i need to tag anything else :) word count: 4 k previous chapter <- -> next chapter series masterlist

While the Bog was blistering hot, the forest they founded themselves in wasn’t much better. Instead, it’s shade did little to make it cooler. Instead, it became mucky and humid. For the first time since entering the Underground, she sweated. Rolling up her sleeves and pushing her hair back, she fanned herself as they walked along.

“It’s so hot here,” she voiced.

“That’s the Underground for you,” Chris commented. “It has so many different eco-systems. You should see the ice caverns.”

Ice caverns… now that sound hellish. She hoped they would not stumble upon those on their journey. She could handle a light chill; she could handle the dark; she could handle heat; she didn’t know if she could handle snow.

“I remember the first time I saw them; they were glittering for the Prince’s birthday… or was it for the King’s? No, no maybe it was for the Goddess’ Celebration.” Changbin pondered aloud as they rounded a large ivy-covered tree stump.

The dirt beneath her feet was gritty, transitioning from sand to a dirt the further they left the Bog behind. With the rich dirt, the forest bloomed larger. The trees were gigantic; huge redwood-esque trees burst forth with bulging trunks and root bases. Their leaves and branches fanned out, shielding the stalactites and any openings in the cavern’s ceiling from view. Green and thriving. Sunlight from the cave’s opening casted through the branches and leaves, making the forest floor look like a kaleidoscope of greens and yellows.

Squinting at the trees, she could see an electric hum course through them. Magic trickling through the trees like liquid gold, giving them an unearthly glow. As they continued along, some even became a strange transparency. Only the rough texture of the bark was visible in a shroud of golden veins. She could clearly see the magic pathways then, sparkling like crushed diamonds, like the powdered magic flowed in rivers along the ringed layers of the tree. Trickling throughout the plant, trickling down into the roots. It was beautiful.

“It’s been a long time since I’ve seen the Ice Caverns,” Han said. He sounded strange, a bit distracted as he looked this way and that.

“I can’t remember the last time I left my post,” Sir Changbin commented as he trucked along.

Large leaves from an equally large tree crunched beneath their feet, loudly. Changbin’s sword clicked and clanked against his meaty thigh as he stomped this way and that. He had become the unofficial guide through the brush. Leading them around large trees and ivy-covered bushes, he directed them with his loud boisterous voice. Loyally, Chris remained by her side as Han stumbled behind them. The Runner glanced back at him every now and then. Was he still ill from the Bog?

“A lot has changed,” Han called as he caught the Runner’s eye. He was quick to look away, dodging her curious eyes.

She furrowed her brow at him. Was he okay?

“It’s the same Underground regardless,” Chris reassured Changbin.

As they continued along, fauna emerged once more. There were jelly butterflies, all who seemed to still love Chris, swarming him with gentle kisses. He giggled and said quiet hellos to them as he gently swatted them away. Pixies of blues, pinks, and yellows were circling through the air in organized flocks. Han glared at them as they dove down at him, tauntingly. Multi-tailed foxes chased one another as they dodged in and out of large elephant-ear plants.

It was almost peaceful. The sound of crickets chirped in the air.

“Same Underground,” Changbin agreed with a grin.

It was strange to think it was peaceful, Y/N thought. The Labyrinth had been so upside-down, so strange. But perhaps when oddity was reality, was it really so odd?

A rabbit with an odd muzzle, almost like a pig’s snout, hopped across their path. “Oh, a dwaekki,” Changbin exclaimed with a fond look.

“It’s a pig-rabbit?” she exclaimed.

“Or a rabbit-pig, depending on the way you look at them,” Chris commented beside her, shrugging.

“Are all animals… conjoined?” she asked. She had seen jelly-fish butterflies too.

“We have chickens, sometimes dogs,” Chris answered. “But there are also dwaekkis, jellyflies, vindles, winged rakkidas, unamoths, shrookils-“

“I love fried shrookil legs,” Changbin chimed in, eagerly.

Chris hummed in agreement. He had been used to gruel every day for the longest time. He yearned for something greasy and indulgent.

“With a good side of rice and maybe—”

Her stomach growled loudly.

“Oh,” Changbin looked bashfully at her stomach, surprised to hear such a loud noise come from the human.

“Sorry, hungry,” she commented as they rounded a corner.

Chris looked this way and that, scanning the brush for anything edible. Instead, they came upon a roadblock. Twisted and a rusted color, it was a large briar-esque circular plant. Up to their waist, it was tall and full of pine needles, thorns, and even glowing baubles. Without a second thought, Changbin whipped out his sword to slash away the obstacle for them.

Jisung huffed out in outrage as pine needles rained down on them. Changbin turned at the sound and laughed out in short ‘ha, ha, ha’s.

“Things really haven’t changed,” he laughed. “Never would I think I see the Han wandering the wilderness.”

“What do you know of Han?” The Runner asked immediately. Almost teasingly. She knew how private he was and how insistent you weren’t just supposed to ask certain questions.

Han didn’t even roll his eyes.

Now, she was concerned.  

“He was the Prince’s Lord, the Gentleman-In-Waiting. You saw him wherever he went. And the Han I know hated traveling.” Changbin recalled. “Or… was that Hoggle?” He frowned.

“I didn’t need to travel much,” Han clarified, poutful. He plucked the pine needles out of his mussed hair. “And it was done in luxury, not this.”

He plucked pine needles from his clothes – as if he’d look much better. He and Y/N both looked worse for wear with blood stains, dirt stains, and who knows what else on their clothes.

“Luckily, we will be at the Castle in a skip. My lady, you will be good as saved,” Changbin encouraged, smiling at her with such human honesty.

It was clear he wasn’t a fae like Jisung said. From the metal adorning his muscular form to his naïve optimism, he seemed genuine in this place of twists and turns.

“I hope, Changbin,” she agreed.

Changbin’s grin was admittedly cute. He looked always so prideful, almost in the way a peacock strutted about fluffing its feathers out. He wiggled a bit as he began to sheathe his sword once more.

“Yeah, I don’t think it’ll be that ea—" Chris murmured, mostly to the Runner before Han’s voice interrupted.

“The King is dead, Changbin,” Han stated simply. “The Prince has ascended… by the Goddess’ will.”

Changbin paused in his efforts to put his sword away. “The Prince is King…” he repeated slowly.

Han nodded as he pushed past his friend to continue walking.

“But… that means—how long have I been gone?” he whimpered.

“A while,” Han said as began to push past brushes and bushes.

What was up with Jisung? Her brows crinkled. He was acting so strange. He was kind and soft moment before and now… why was he angry? Or upset? She couldn’t understand.

“Oh,” Changbin breathed.

There was a beat of silence as they walked along, pushing flora away. Rustling leaves filled the air until they all spotted something strange for a forest. A large sculpture half destroyed in the middle of the path. A column eaten away by decay. A road overgrown by grass and dirt.

“Wait… no, no, this isn’t right,” Changbin murmured, steps slowing as he took in each object.

Han looked back at them, only for a brief moment. A distant look shadowing his gaze as he plowed ahead, stomping a bit as he rounded the sculpture, a destroyed arch, and broke past the tree line and into a desolate field.

“The castle…” Changbin breathed.

The ruins of a grand castle laid before them. Sprawling over the land, left as a reminder for those to pass. There was a distant smell of fire-smoke in the air as they crept closer.

Sculptures of old were tumbled over into rubble. Large buildings were blasted to smithereens with only their foundations left as a gaping ghostly reminder in the ground. Cobwebs and dust clung to everything. Despite the nearby tree-line looking lush and opulent with life, it was as if a bubble was around the grounds of the Old Castle, making anything that laid there dead.

Twisted trees and barren hedges of bramble frames a once-hedge labyrinth on the grounds like the very Labyrinth she passed through. Splattered about were the remains of life – skeletons of tiny goblins on the ground, twisted gaunt bushes, broken carts carrying jars of honeyed mead and loaves of bread sat molded. A dried-out fountain parched of water in a nearby courtyard remained dirtied. Dust sprites huddled together by a tiny barely lit fire in a corner of a destroyed building. Shadows clung to concrete columns and broken hunks of fire-eaten wood.

The Old Castle was a wasteland.

The Old Castle had been all three of the faeries once-home away-from-home.

“When did this happened?” Changbin breathed horrified.

His gaze jumped from one spot to the next. He could see everything perfectly as it had once been. A beautiful fountain that glimmered in the magical Lamp light with nymphs bathing or blowing bubbles at one another. Goblins chattering about as they ran this way and that. Stray chickens roaming cobblestone roads pecking for food here and there. Towers shadowed over them; sculptures taller than the trees stood proud.

Now, everything had been razed to the ground.

“Jisung?” she reached for his arm. Jisung reacted, kneejerking into attention. Wide eyes flashing to her.

“Yes?”  

“What is this place?”

“This is the Old Castle.” He started. “This was the King before the Goblin King’s domain. Its… also where most of us grew up.” Han remembered chasing Hyunjin around the once blooming hedge maze, something he couldn’t fathom now. The remains of those mazes rested in twisted dried briars.

“What about that?” She pointed to the ever-present castle in the distance, once again visible from the fields.

“It was a symbol—it wasn’t--,” Han sighed. “It was for ceremony – the Challenge, the Spring, the Fall, the Summer, the Winter Revelries, celebrations only. Now, he stays there all the time.”

There was part of a large sculpture of a familiar face buried in the ground – a strong jawbone, strict lips, and a glowering brow – half destroyed as if by a blast of magic. Y/N recognized it. It looked like the man from the tiles outside the Labyrinth. The one she had seen with the girl from another world. Their noses were the same, their furrowed arched brows the same.

“The old King,” Chris whispered to her, nodding at it.

The old King and a human? She wondered. If that was the same person from the tile, it only made sense. Or perhaps another fae? She remembered seeing the tile in the desert sea, and the story seemed so forbidden.

“What happened? Han, what happened?” Changbin was edging on hysterical as he rushed forward to grasp his friend’s shoulder.

“The Prince--- he let this happen,” Han hissed out.

“Where is the court? Where is the Queen? The Champion Queen? Anyone?”

“They’ve moved into the Goblin City. The Queen is simply the Queen Mother, asleep in delirium; the Champion Queen passed. He refused to remain here.” Han answered.

Changbin’s mouth gaped as he looked this way and that. Y/N looked about, taking in the destruction with a heavy heart. It was a large piece of land. It would’ve housed many people – even if it was a castle for a king.

Her stomach rumbled loudly.

“What was that?” Changbin alerted, sword at the ready.

“Y/N,” Chris answered with a pout.

“I’m fine.” She reassured.

She didn’t feel it at first but then she heard its squeak. A tiny sprite made of soot, rotund and no bigger than a lint ball, nudged her sneaker with dusty stick-like hands. Thud, thud, thud.

“Oh, hello,” she murmured.

It knocked her foot again. She stepped aside… was she in its way? The soot sprite seemed to grumble at that before hurrying back the way it came.

“The Goblin City… the Goblin Castle of yore.” Changbin murmured.

“Yeah, lots of memories, huh,” Han mumbled.

They lingered for a moment, glancing about. Han stood far from her she noted. Every time she crept closer, he’d jump away.

“If… it’s there,” Changbin mumbled. “It’ll take til night fall to arrive.”

“If we are lucky,” Han said aside.

Why was he acting like this? It made her brows furrow.

“Oh, fear not, fair lady!” Changbin boasted out, spotting her face.

He approached her with a kind look in his eye. His hand grasped hers dedicatedly.

“Despite this shock, we shall persevere!  The Castle shall be nearer than we think and you’ll be good as saved.”

It was a sweet proclamation but unfortunately it did little to reassure her of Han, their situation, of anything. Still, she smiled and squeezed his hand reassuring.

“I hope so,” she said before letting go of his hand.

“Let’s keep going. This is just a ghost town,” Han commented, glancing at the other three.

There was a ghastly howl from a shadow pressed against a burnt wood chunk. She jumped into Changbin’s shoulder, who pushed the Runner behind him, sandwiching her between the Knight and the Beast-Hunter.

“Good thinking, Lord Han.” Changbin proclaimed.

“Just Han now, Bin,” he said, dejectedly before leading the charge ahead and passing soot sprites with little regard. Rounding broken shards of their once-home. “Just a subject.”

Chris nudged her ahead of him; Changbin in front of her and him walking behind her keeping guard as they continued onwards.

A little soot spirit had returned as they left, carrying a heavy speck of bread only to see the group far in the distance. It squeaked in disappointment before it dropped the heavy bread to its side and crossed its arm.

-

They walked along, portions of the Labyrinth visible once more in the distance. The once-seemingly close Castle now far in the distance once more. She sighed out, rubbing her forehead in frustration. Fuck Magic. She had made such progress only to be sent backwards.

“Halt!” Changbin cried out, throwing out his arms to stop the group from continuing onwards.  She stumbled into his arm, befuddled. The forest in front of them looked safe enough. Large boulders and trees, some creatures dodging in-between plants maybe. “A miracle!”

“What’s—Oh I see,” Chris exclaimed.

“What?” she asked as Chris ducked under Changbin’s arm and approached a series of rocks close together.

“A well!” Chris exclaimed smiling wide as he rushed to it to glance into it. It wasn’t like any common well. It was a series of rocks in a circle, almost like a rudimentary old well. She followed after him and peered in with him. The well was deep and dark, but the Beast-Hunter was used to the dark. He squinted and frowned.

“It’s empty…” he lamented.

“It’s alright,” she reassured.

Her thirst had returned with her hunger after their adventure through the Bog of Eternal Stench. It clung to the roof of her mouth and scratched at her throat. But they couldn’t stop or leave their path for it.

“You were light headed earlier,” Chris reminded scoldingly. “Your tummy…”  

“I know, but there isn’t anything we can do,” she said.  

“All castles needed water; there must be a stream nearby! Please rest for a moment; I’ll find it for you!” Changbin exclaimed.

“Wait—Sir Changbin!” she called, only it was too late.

He had scurried off into the brush to their right. Huffing out a sigh, she raised a hand to rub at her head. A headache was building behind her eyes. Was it the journey, the hunger, the thirst, or sleepiness?  She couldn’t tell anymore.

“I’ll go get him,” Chris reassured her, rubbing the back of her neck soothingly. “We will be okay.”

His smile was kind and sunny like a sunrise.  

With that, he too disappeared into the flora of the forest. Han and her were left alone once more. He frowned at her, pacing this way and that. His feet couldn’t seem to rest around her, picking up and wandering as soon as he paused.

“What’s wrong?” she asked. “You’re acting weird-er.”

In the distance, she could hear Chris trying to convince Changbin to return much to Changbin’s chagrin. He must find his fair lady a drink!

“Nothing.” Han bit back quick. He licked his lips of iron. “Just want to get you out of here is all.”

She smiled, the action feeling bittersweet on her lips. She approached him, rounding around a stump covered in magic dust.  

“Changbin… bled pink,” she commented.

“He’s a Changeling,” Jisung told her, gaze averted from her. “Changbin underwent the same Challenge as you many, many years ago.”

“And… he failed.” She breathed. She glanced over her shoulder in the direction of the Knight’s voice.

“Brother, please I must implore you-!” he shouted in the distance at Chris.

Jisung looked over at the sound. He smiled bittersweetly as well before his gaze shifted, taking in sights he hadn’t seen in forever. He stopped to graze a hand over a flower blooming. Its sap tingled.

“He did fail. But he’s a good Changeling. Strong; an amazing Knight. He’s one of the few Changelings that was trusted to be a Knight. He never served an oath beneath the King; it was on his lifeblood or magic. He’s bound to the Underground’s magic and his own honor. I almost think his brain is protecting him by forgetting. You humans aren’t meant to last eons even with the Change.”

It made her shiver, fear clinging down her spine. Y/N frowned at the thought of losing herself. Of failing. She took a deep breath, shifting to sit on the tree stump. Her feet sighed in relief.

Maybe she’d be a good Changeling, Han pondered. If he couldn’t fight Hyunjin… he could protect her if she was Changeling. Be by her side if he groveled enough. It was strange that he was contemplating groveling for someone other than himself.

He looked over at her. When had she become important to him? His heart ached and he didn’t know what to do with the feeling.

“The stream is dried up!” Changbin exclaimed in the distance.

She snorted at that, leaning back to stretch her back. “Well, that answers the question about water or food anytime soon.”

With a heaving sigh, she moved to stand once more. Her bones creaked and her stomach gurgled again, almost sounding like the Bog.

The peach thrummed against his pocket. Heavier than ever, he held it, pulling it from his pocket. It glowed in the streaming sunlight. He swallowed.

Give it to her. There was that voice that whispered in his ear. He had to give it her. He was the King’s subject; it was his will. He dug his nails into the skin; it didn’t pierce its perfect painted façade.

If he did this, he could try to save her by finding the King? He could beg. Plead. Anything. If she wasn’t a human, it didn’t matter. Changbin was a Changeling. Would she be so bad as one? His head ached. His fingers burned, knuckled white as he gripped the fruit tighter and tighter still. He wished the peach would burst. He wanted to keep her safe. He should just run away.

Give it to her or else you’ll be in the City of the Forgotten, stupid goblin. The voice wasn’t his.

“Y/N,” he murmured, quiet and slow.

“Hm?” she answered, turning towards him.

Her smile of amusement, of fondness for her party in the distance, clear on her kind face. Jisung wanted to vomit. She was good. And he wasn’t.

“Here.” He pressed the fae fruit into her hand quickly.

“Oh!” Her exclamation was one of surprise. Her smile only growing in its wideness. “I didn’t know you saved it! I thought you lost it in the Bog!”

Her mouth flooded with saliva as she looked over the pretty fruit. Relief crossed over her features, grateful. Han closed his eyes and looked away.

It was truly the most perfect peach she had ever seen. Ruby red and sunset orange blended into one another like a water-colored masterpiece. The slightly fuzzy surface tickled her fingers pleasantly. She bet it would taste so good. Her stomach growled loud in agreement.

Han’s face remained stoic, swallowing down the bile that crept upwards especially as she thanked him once more with a grateful tone. He couldn’t watch as she took a big bite.

Sweet nectar dripped down the sides of her mouth, pooling at the tip of her chin in a thick droplet. It felt to the ground with a bubbling fizzle. She chewed once and then twice, slow, and less eager as the taste flooded her tongue until she swallowed it down harshly.

“It tastes strange,” she mumbled.

It lingered and suffocated her throat. It wasn’t like a juicy peach she had expected, nor any fruit she had eaten before. Bitter, acidic, and heavy. Honey-sweet, thick on her tongue. It tasted like a million things, and her head wasn’t large enough to comprehend them. Instead, her eyes grew heavy and her head full of cotton.

“Han, what is this?” Her words were airy as she stumbled, a hand going to brace herself on a branch of a shimmering tree.

“I—I had to, Y/N,” he whispered, glancing about as if Hyunjin would come into the open now with the woman bewildered. His gaze locked on her form, faltering. Weak.

Regret climbed up his back as he saw her lose her balance again, her eyes fluttering with delirium. He held himself back from touching her as a magical glow settled around her like a shackle.

“Han,” she slurred as she stumbled forward to her knees amongst the large flowers of the forest.

Puffs of pollen and magic flew into the air, snowing down over her like a sparkling rain. Her hair was shimmering with it, her cheeks dusty with magic. Red flushed, just like the peach she still grasped in her hand tightly.

“Everything’s – everything’s dancing,” Y/N whispered, widened curse-struck eyes that held the cosmos with Hyunjin’s magic. They searched for Jisung in the whirl.

Their eyes met and she saw his eyes fill with tears. Or was it her eyes? Everything was so blurry, bubbling with a shininess.

“Jisung,” she pleaded as she reached out a hand.

Desperate. Fragile. Vulnerable.

She fell back suddenly, head snapping back as she tumbled to rest in the flowers as if she were nothing but a corpse. Bewitched and asleep.

Oh, how it made his stomach churn in guilt – especially when mushrooms climbed up through the magic-filled soil to surround her in a ring. A faerie ring.

Oh, no. There was no saving her now with a faerie ring about her – she was at the mercy of Hyunjin for good. Oh no, oh no. He didn’t know what to do. He didn’t know what to do.

Jisung glanced about for a moment before he heard Chris calling for the Runner. Sir Changbin was close behind with his loud piercing voice. If they found her like this and him like this --- He felt on fire, burning from within. He wanted to scream.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. I’m so sorry,” Jisung pleaded, his voice weak as he fiddled with her bracelet.

It did little to calm him, in fact, the charms felt like they were burning hot. All his strength was swallowed up like his very being had been chewed up and swallowed down. He felt sick and small. He ripped the bracelet off the charms clinking as he dropped it into faerie-ringed ground.

“I had to; Hyunjin—he told me—” he felt his eyes burn; she looked too still in the flurry of flowers.

He turned away.

“I’m sorry; I’m not strong. I’m a coward.” He whispered before running off.

Leaving the Runner caught, with his jewels, the bracelet she had given him, and their friendship in shambles.

[corinthianism]

everything has changed | dean winchester (2)

pairing: dean winchester/f!reader additional tags: reverse isekai, fluff, crack, meet cute, slight angst

masterlist | previous chapter | next chapter | ao3

CHAPTER TWO: GREEN EYES, FRECKLES, AND YOUR SMILE

Your alarm blared to life at 7:00AM, shocking you awake as the morning sun hit your eyes like it was trying to blind you. The offending sound was cut short by a prompt smack of your hand. You rolled over onto your back and rubbed your eyes, the sleep fading away slowly as you blinked up at the ceiling. The bed was warm and plush under you, inviting you back to the dream world with every passing moment that you didn’t move. You were tempted to accept that invitation. Then, your drowsiness vanished altogether like a popped bubble as you remembered yesterday’s events.

You met Dean Winchester in the flesh, and he was staying at your house.

That was enough to jog you awake, sitting upright and rubbing the tiredness from your eyes again as you contemplated on what to do. A quick glance to the side let you know that your bedroom door was slightly ajar, so you decided to get your robe from the foot of your bed and see if yesterday was just a fever dream.

The fuzzy slippers kept your feet off of the cold wooden floors, though you took great care in making sure your footsteps were quiet as you wrapped your robe tightly around you, padding over to the living room to check if your suspicions were true. At first glance, it seemed that everything was completely normal… until you saw sock-clad feet poking out from the armrest of your couch.

The couch was facing away from you and as you got closer, you saw a wallet and keys on the coffee table in front of it. A few more steps even closer, and there was the familiar mousy brown mop of hair that belonged to none other than Dean Winchester, who was sleeping soundly in your living room. His soft snores filled the room, his right arm hooked under the pillow his head was resting on. His other hand was under the pillow as well. He was wearing one of your exes’ old shirts, which was luckily just his size, and old sweatpants that had belonged to your grandfather. On top of him was a thick blanket that you always kept on the couch, for the nights that you wanted to snuggle up and get warm while watching a movie. It made Dean look a little bit small. If the circumstances that led him here weren’t so odd, you might’ve felt more warm and fuzzy inside at the sight in front of you.

“Should I wake him up?” you wondered. Even asleep, he looked so exhausted. Handsome, yes, but exhausted nonetheless. You reached out to tap his shoulder, only for him to jolt awake and you were met face to face with the barrel of the pistol he was hiding under the pillow.

“WHAT THE FU— DEAN! It’s me!” you put your hands up in panicked surrender, “It’s me! From yesterday!”

“Where am I?” he grumbled sleepily, squinting his eyes despite his gun being perfectly aimed at your head.

“You’re at my house!” you almost-yelled, exasperated. “You were bleeding out on the curb yesterday and we talked at the diner?”

After a few moments of just… staring at each other, he finally seemed to process what was going on, letting out a soft “oh” as he lowered his gun and placed it on your coffee table next to his other stuff, “Sorry ‘bout that, sweetheart.”

“It’s fine— actually, it’s not,” you nearly conceded. “Please don’t point a gun at my face ever again.”

“I thought you were… somethin’ bad,” he murmured, letting his head fall back onto the pillow, those last two words being muffled by the fabric. It took him a couple of seconds to pull himself back up and lean against the couch, looking up at you. “Uh, thanks for letting me crash here tonight.”

“No problem,” you nodded slowly, looking at everything except for him. You cleared your throat, “Coffee?”

“Please.”

Dean was a surprisingly neat house guest, but it might’ve just been because it was his first night here with you. The two of you settled across from each other on the island countertop of your kitchen.

He took a sip of his black coffee, eyes darting around to inspect his surroundings, “This is a nice place you got here.”

“Thanks,” you hummed appreciatively. You worked your ass off to buy this house, which was a near-Herculean feat in this day and age. It was your space, and it was very you. You were proud of that. “Took a while before I got it though. I used to rent an apartment with some friends, but the inheritance from my grandpa helped a lot, too.”

“Oh, well… good for you.”

You wanted the ground to swallow you alive. Small talk hurt you like nothing else, though it seemed the same could be said for Dean, whose gaze was now avoiding yours, much like what you had done earlier in the living room.

“So,” you looked up at him when he spoke, “you know a good chunk about me, ‘cause of that… Supernatural show.”

“I guess? The CW cancelled it back in, what? 2011? When Misha Collins died, so there’s definitely a lot I don’t know now,” you told him, absentmindedly stirring your coffee.

“Misha who?”

“He played Castiel.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah,” you sighed. “It’s a shame, I met him once. He was nice.”

He gave you a sympathetic look, knowing that that man’s death was another life lost because of his job. “So the show just… stopped?” he asked, trying to confirm your earlier statement. “You don’t know anything that happens after?”

You shook your head.

Dean chuckled dryly, “Can’t say I’m complaining, I’d rather not have a whole ‘nother universe watch the literal story of my life.”

That earned him a quiet laugh from you, “I don’t blame you. It’s, um, pretty sad. No offense.”

“None taken, you’re right,” he managed to give you a small smile, “say, I think it’s just fair that I get to know you. Since I’m crashing here in the meantime and all.”

And there it was again: the urge to jump through the window now that he was staring at you, waiting for you to tell him about yourself. Dean motherfucking Winchester wanted you to tell him about yourself. Same dude who went face to face with archangels, regular shmegular angels, demons, and whatever else since it was clear that his life kept going long after Supernatural ended.

You couldn’t stop your anxiety from creeping in, “Yeah, uh, I don’t think you’d wanna hear about it. I’m a pretty boring person.”

“Sweetheart, after everything my brother and I have been through? I think boring is pretty great,” he winked at you, something that you would’ve never thought in a million years that Jensen Ackles would do to you, let alone Dean himself. It was bizarre, the way your hands suddenly got very sweaty and how the words couldn’t really escape your throat.

“I… uh…” you stuttered. “I graduated a couple years ago? Lied on my CV, got this really nice remote job. I… don’t really go out much, which is kinda disappointing, considering my major.”

If he noticed the self-deprecating remark you made, he didn’t mention it. Instead, he got this glimmer in his eyes as he listened to you intently, “What’d you study?”

Your brain nearly short-circuited right then and there. It was pretty fucking sad, how such a simple question had you freezing up like a clam. You scrambled to regain your composure, trying not to mess this up and send this semi-okay conversation into the trash, “Archaeology.”

If there was a glimmer in his eyes before, there were fireworks in them now, “Woah, like Indiana Jones?”

The laugh came out before you could even register it, and maybe it was just in your head, but Dean looked mighty proud of himself for being the one to coax it out of you.

“Yeah, like Indiana Jones. I’m just… not doing a lot of exploring or anything,” you smiled. “But I had a lot of fun studying it, surprisingly. It’s just a shame I never got to actually use my degree for the job I have now. You don’t exactly need to have an archaeology degree to be a customer service provider.”

“It’s never too late to start,” he grinned, before leaning forward and donning this almost-really-serious expression, “wait, how old are you?”

“Younger than you,” you responded in a rare show of cheekiness, taking a sip of your coffee as he rolled his eyes, “but thanks, maybe one of these days I’ll go uncover some ancient mysteries or something.”

“Now that’s something I’d pay to see,” he smiled sincerely.

The next few hours were spent not doing much. Dean’s wound was still fresh, and without the help of a certain angel friend, moving about too much could tear the stitches. There was one perk of not having a life: you had a shit ton of vacation days that you decided to take advantage of after breakfast. You figured two weeks off was enough to help Dean, since there was no way Sam and Castiel weren’t already trying to get him back. And because you didn’t wanna piss off your boss. That was a pretty big factor, too.

Dean was restless, most likely a result of how demanding and taxing his job was, but you stayed surprisingly firm when he mentioned his plan of going back to that sidewalk to see if he could find any clues that could help him get back home. Guilt blossomed in your chest for not allowing him to do much, but the risk of his stitches tearing and compromising his ability to protect you should anything follow you to your home was too great. You had to look out for yourself, too, though the idea of him being in pain again certainly didn’t help convince you to agree to his plans.

He was currently in the living room, where you had set up HBO for him so he could just watch something while you went about your day. You managed to dig out some more clothes for him to wear, just in case he felt like showering. You wanted to go to Goodwill and get him some new clothes, since it seemed he would be staying with you for quite a while.

“Dean?” you called out to him.

He paused the show he was watching, which upon further inspection turned out to be The Last of Us, and turned his head to face you, “Yeah?”

“I’ll just go out for a bit. I’ll be back in thirty-ish minutes maybe?”

“Woah, woah, woah, hang on. What do you mean you’re going out? It’s not safe,” he said, his back suddenly straightening as he stood up. “I’ll come with you.”

“Dean, it’s just a quick milk run.”

“Exactly. I’m probably not gonna tear my stitches on a milk run, right?”

You couldn’t argue with his logic, and also because a very big part of you would feel better with him around, even if you were just going to buy a few clothes.

“Come on, sweetheart,” he got closer to you, placing his hands on your shoulders in an effort to get you to agree, “I’d feel a lot better if I could stay there with you since you’ve helped me so much already.”

You deflated under his gaze, unable to do much other than relent because goddamn it, how could anyone say no to him? Maybe he learned a thing or two about puppy dog looks from his brother. It was infuriating. And it also echoed your sentiments from yesterday, about him staying with you instead of at some run-down motel.

With a defeated sigh, you cocked your head as a sign for him to come with you to the garage. He grinned and got his now-spotless jacket, which you had washed thoroughly the night before.

Now that you thought about it, you decided to go to Target instead, suddenly feeling embarrassed if you were to bring Dean to Goodwill of all places. Not that there was anything wrong with that, but you figured you could afford to spend a little more on the man that saved the world. Well, his world.

“Okay, wait,” he grabbed your wrist. “Do you have a sharpie?”

“What for?”

“Anti-possession,” he explained. “I’ll just try my best to draw it on your arm or something.”

Your eyes widened, simultaneously because you realized that possession was definitely a real threat now, but mostly because he didn’t need to draw anything on your arm.

“Uh, Dean?”

He looked up at you, brows furrowed in concern, “What is it?”

You froze, “I don’t think I’m gonna need it.”

Before he could ask any more questions, you turned around and pulled the collar of your shirt down, revealing a small anti-possession tattoo of your own.

“Please don’t ask. I was young and stupid,” you cringed, letting go of the fabric to cover it back up.

“I wouldn’t say it was stupid,” he chuckled, intrigued by the story behind the tattoo, since you were definitely not getting chased by demons at any point in your life besides maybe now. “It saves us some time, at least.”

You nodded stiffly, opting to head straight to the garage to get your car. He followed after you.

Dean let out a wolf whistle, “Oh, would you look at that…”

In your garage was a cherry-red 1965 Ford Mustang, an all-American car if you ever saw one. Your companion clearly liked what he saw, briefly looking over at you as if asking for permission to swoon over the car, which you happily gave him.

“Hell yeah,” he grinned to himself, immediately going over to look at very little thing the car had to offer. “Oh, she’s beautiful. She got a name?”

You smiled fondly at the sight of him looking so giddy, “Yeah, my grandpa called her Monroe.”

“Like the actress?”

“Yep,” you nodded, putting your hands in your pockets as you walked over to where he was standing. “Wanna take her for a ride?”

That question alone made Dean look at you as if you hung the sun, moon, and stars in the sky. His lips curled up into a soft smile, “You sure, sweetheart? It’s your car after all.”

“Well, how many girls can say Dean Winchester drove them around?” you smirked, tossing him the keys from your pocket.

His hand gripped the keys tightly, like he was holding a rare gem. Or like Rose holding her big gaudy Heart of the Ocean necklace from Titanic. After you opened the garage door, Dean wasted no time in taking the car out and feeling the fine leather seats under him that were so reminiscent of his Baby’s. Only a day has passed and it was clear once you hopped in that he was missing a certain Impala.

“So, where we headin’ to, ma’am?” he cleared his throat, giving you his signature charismatic smile, his eyes still lingering on every nook and cranny of the Mustang.

“Target.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, it’s only a few blocks from here.”

“What’re we doing there?”

You turned to him, flashing him a winning smile, “We’re going shopping.”

He just shrugged, not questioning your choice. The radio beside the steering wheel caught his attention, prompting him to turn it on out of curiosity about what a woman like you liked to listen to. With a press of a button, the radio came to life.

“—For times when my life seems so low

It would make me believe what tomorrow could bring

When today doesn’t really know

Doesn’t really kn—”

“Air Supply?” he asked, surprised. “You listen to Air Supply?”

Your cheeks heated up with embarrassment, causing you to sink in your seat, bracing for some judgment on his part, “...They’re good.”

“Never said they weren’t,” he grinned, leaning forward to turn up the volume as he drove. He began to lip-sync to the rest of the lyrics, fisting the air as the song reached its iconic chorus.

“I’m all out of love, I’m so lost without you

I know you were right believing for so long

I’m all out of love, what am I without you?

I can’t be too late to say that I was so wrong”

He went as far as to nod his head to the music, glancing at you every now and then to see the way your eyes watered from laughing so hard. He cracked a satisfied smile, turning his attention back to the road as Target came into view. It didn’t take him long to park the Mustang, leaving the passenger’s seat to go over to your side and open the car door for you. He’d done it so easily, so nonchalantly, that you almost didn’t think much of it until you got to the main entrance when you felt his hand lightly brush over the small of your back.

When the cool air of the store hit you, so did the realization that he was so close to you. Your shoulders were practically touching as you walked, and you couldn’t help the way your face got hot whenever he gently placed his hand on your shoulder whenever you made a turn.

Finally, you reached the menswear section of Target.

“Oh, are you buyin’ clothes for someone?” he asked, looking around, though you saw the way his eyes lingered on the canvas jackets and the plaid shirts, all conveniently organized together in one area.

“For you,” you patted his shoulder.

“You don’t have to,” he said. “You’re already letting me borrow some.”

“Yeah, like… two shirts and one pair of sweatpants. And you’re only wearing those pants right now because I threw them in the laundry as soon as you took a shower,” you put your hand on your hip, eyeing his jeans.

He looked away, suddenly embarrassed because he knew you were right. You grabbed his wrist, pulling him towards the racks of canvas jackets he was staring at moments before, “What’s your size?”

He took a deep breath, “...Large.”

“Great,” you grinned at him, starting to peruse the jacket options in front of you. Truthfully, the prices made you die inside a little bit, but you wanted to do something nice for Dean. He was your guest and he agreed to keep you safe. You didn’t miss the way he would constantly glance at you as soon as you stepped out of your garage.

And you hoped that maybe, once he went home, it would be like bringing a piece of you and your world along with him. Something to remember you by. It’d only been a day and he was already the best company you’ve had in the last few years.

“Holy shit! Is that Jensen Ackles?” you heard someone say from behind you and Dean. He turned around, immediately putting himself in front of you as a teenage boy got closer. An older man, who you assumed was his dad, wasn’t too far behind. “Dude, can I take a picture with you?”

The boy was no more than sixteen. Thick black-rimmed glasses sat on his nose, where snot glistened disgustingly under the overhead department store lights. Blond hair was stuck to his sweaty forehead, a large dark patch under his armpits: all tell-tale signs of a would-be incel, if he wasn't already.

Dean smiled awkwardly at the boy and sighed, “Sorry, kid. I can’t.”

He must’ve expected the kid to just accept that answer and leave, but to his surprise, the boy was persistent. Annoyingly persistent.

“Come on, bro! It’s just one photo!” the teen pushed. The dad wasn't doing anything to get his kid to behave, too distracted by some phone call.

“Kid,” Dean spoke firmly, “I really can’t right now.”

At this second rejection, the kid got this indignant look in his eyes, his attention turning to you. “Is that your girlfriend?”

“What?”

Without warning, the kid took out his phone and started recording, pointing the camera at you and Dean, “Guys, look what I found! Jensen Ackles is like, alive! And he has a new girlfriend!”

“Fuck,” Dean muttered under his breath. “Hey, kid, can you stop that?”

The boy ignored him, still shakily recording without a care in the world. His father was still busy talking to someone on the phone.

“Okay, you know what? Give me that,” Dean frowned, snatching the phone away. The kid yelped in surprise, his eyes widening comically so.

“Give it back!” the kid pushed his glasses back up. “Give. It. Back!”

Dean sported a shit-eating grin, “Or what?”

If you didn’t know any better, you’d say the kid started reddening like a cartoon character out of anger, steam blowing from his ears. He ran towards Dean, not unlike a rabid animal. Now it was Dean’s turn to flinch in surprise, nearly losing grip of the phone when the kid managed to get his grubby little hands on it. Despite the whole thing lasting about five seconds, it was almost like everything happened in slo-mo.

It was ridiculous to watch. Ridiculous probably wasn’t even enough to describe it. A forty-something man and a pubescent kid playing tug o’ war over a phone. Said forty-something man also being a fictional character that got sucked into your world.

It was enough to write a New York Times bestseller about.

The phone fell to the floor, its screen shattering into tiny little glass fragments. The sound of it hitting the ground finally got the kid’s dad to look; first at his kid, then to Dean, then to you, then to the broken phone.

The matching look of utter anguish on his and his son’s faces told you that that phone was probably incredibly expensive.

You and Dean shared a look, one that confirmed that you both had the same thought:

Run.

And so you did.

He grabbed your hand, breaking into a sprint as the father’s brain seemed to finally catch up with what was happening. The teen boy started cursing at the two of you, using words that he most definitely learned from the darkest depths of the Internet. The boy’s yelling attracted the attention of other customers, and as more eyes turned to you and Dean (who they would only know as the guy who plays Dean), the sight of the main exit of Target had never looked sweeter.

Though the other customers weren’t really doing anything except look at you, it made the whole store feel extremely claustrophobic. Dean tugged on your sleeve, forcing you to run faster and match his pace.

As soon as you got out of Target, very narrowly avoiding the guard thanks to the guy’s delayed reaction to what was happening, Dean fished your Mustang’s keys out of his pocket, fumbling with them a little bit before getting in and inserting the keys into the ignition.

He waited for you to get in, and like so many times before with his beloved Baby, he floored it and drove away with a victorious laugh.

“Oh my god!” you gasped, breathing heavily. The rearview mirror showed the father-son duo from hell jog out of the building, still yelling profanities at you.

Dean was still laughing, having seen the same thing in the rearview mirror from his side.

“I should feel bad but I really don’t,” his laughter simmered down to an amused chuckle. “Kid had it coming.”

“That’s so mean!” you smacked his arm, though you were still smiling.

He turned to you briefly, “Well, we can’t have the world thinking Jensen Ackles suddenly reappeared outta nowhere, right? And with a new girlfriend, no less. I bet that would be a scandal.”

You tried to suppress the blush starting to bloom in your cheeks at the mention of being mistaken for his girlfriend, “Yeah, you can say that again.”

“Sorry about that,” he apologized out of the blue.

“Huh?”

“You were gonna do something nice for me,” he told you. “And then that happened.”

“When in doubt, blame the kid,” you reassured him with a smile. He threw his head back as he laughed at this, before reaching for the radio. This time, “You’re Still The One” by Shania Twain started playing.

And everything was alright again.

author's note: hope you guys enjoyed the second chapter! let me know what you think and as always, likes and reblogs are always appreciated!

taglist: @delfonicstheme-blog @deans-spinster-witch @nancymcl @tiredstrangerr (let me know in the comments if you'd like to be added to the taglist!)

[callmearcturus]

okay the Eye of the Duck for each of the MI films

Mission Impossible:

I promise I really thought about the Vault Scene and I could go on for ages about it and I maybe should since it's the marker of what separates MI from other action franchises.

But my heart lives in this scene as the emotional core of the movie, where Jim comes back from the dead and tries to spin a tale that Ethan is too smart to fall for but is still tempted by. The way Jim says one thing but Ethan's already pieced together what really happened-- and doesn't like the answer, rewrites it in his head to make it fit what he wants.

Ethan's emotions and how much he cares about people is his ultimate weakness and it remains so for the entire franchise, so to see him wrestling with that all the way from the start is crunchy.

Also Ethan soulgazing the camera for that long is very affecting.

Mission Impossible 2:

the point of the EOTD is to find the scene at the movie's center that reflects its core back at you. I think Woo's vision of MI is exemplified by that final fight scene between Ethan and the villain. I remember the first time I watched the movie, this scene made me go "NO" out loud several times.

I mean, mostly because absolutely not that handgun will not fire after being in the sand for that long, there is not enough gun oil in the world.

but since I have wisened up and realized MI2 is not the worst MI movie, I think I get it more. The over-the-top motorcycle jousting, the slow-motion, but especially the cuts to the roiling ocean-- everyone shut the fuck up and let your bodies tell the story, even if the 'story' here is as simple as "I'mma fuck you up." It doesn't have to be original, it just has to be a cohesive vision, and honestly I think people would like MI2 a lot more if they acknowledged Woo accomplished his specific vision here.

I don't love MI2, but I respect it. Way more than, uh.

Mission Impossible 3:

god i hate this fucking movie but the EOTD is really obvious.

The only scene in this movie that works 100% is after the stupid vapid villain is gone and when the movie returns to the two fucking actors who carried this horrible script on their fucking backs.

Ethan has a charge in his head that is about to detonate and kill him. He's asks Julia to kill him and then bring him back to life to defuse it.

I... My hatred of this movie is legendary but I love this scene. I love Ethan staggering around like a drunkard bc he's blinded by pain. I love the way he explains how to shoot a gun to Julia. I love his little "Don't point it at me" and the way he likens the reload of a magazine to the flashlight in their kitchen, something both of them understand. I love the absolute trust here--

Esp bc I think it's clear Ethan could die right now, but he'd rather go out trusting his wife to save his life than to worry about it too much.

And Julia actually fucking saves him, and it's good! It's the only good scene in the movie other than Benji's second scene. And if MI3's goal was to dig into the Emotions of the franchise, then fine, this is the scene that's best at it.

Still the worst movie. Someone stop JJ Abrams from ever writing scripts.

Mission Impossible: Ghost Protocol

holy shit i am stunned someone clipped this bit

I am straight up stealing Brendon Bigley's EOTD scene because he's right.

This moment, right after Ethan and Brandt have escaped the river, there's this incredible lull in the action where Brandt asks "Why would that work?" about Ethan's ridiculous flare trick to misdirect the KGB dudes with the rifles.

Ethan's confused about Brandt's question because... he didn't know it would work, he played a hunch.

Brandt's bitchy lil "'kaaaaay.... so what was your scenario" and the way Ethan actually smiles as Brandt tries analyzing the logic of what just happened and why.

This is the EOTD of GP because it's the film tipping its hat to everything its doing (and everything MI will become moving forward) in microcosm. MI is not about metriculous clockwork plots and spy intrigue, it's about heart and instinct and the fucking motto of the IMF: "I'll make it work." Tacitly, this convo between Brandt and Ethan is Brandt as audience surrogate and Ethan as filmmakers' surrogate.

Why did that work? Don't worry about it, just keep saying yes and we'll get through.

(Also the bit immediately after with the best Tom Cruise Is Short joke in the series, immaculate physical comedy, love it.)

Mission Impossible: Rogue Nation:

fuck all y'all I'm going to pick a single joke and obsess over it

FIRST 15 SECONDS

THAT'S IT THAT'S THE EYE OF THE DUCK

I'm not even remotely kidding, but this is related to BTS info about the gag. The script apparently only said "ethan and benji get into the car" but when it came time to film, TC was like "I can't just get into the car, it's the waste of a moment. hang on, i got it" and for the next take just DID that stupid flail across the car. Pegg's stunned look is real because no one knew he would do that.

As a writer, I love this moment because yes, just climbing into the car would have been a waste. It would have been an opportunity to put in a character moment just forgotten.

This is related to that lovely lil moment in Fallout where the team are meeting up with Walker after catching Lane, and there's no dialogue, but as they come up the stairs, Benji spots Walker, and he immediately flattens himself to the wall to get out of Ethan's way and looks back at Ethan for guidance. Ethan gives Benji a nod to say we're good, don't worry and they continue up the stairs.

These are little moments of characterization that are mostly built from actors who are just very comfortable with their characters, and this expediency of storytelling. Cut all the unneeded seconds, and make sure every second that remains in the movie is doing some kind of work.

so yeah that's the EOTD for RN.

Mission Impossible: Fallout

the EOTD for the entire MI franchise is the scene with the Parisian cop.

Ethan stopping everything to try to convince a bystander to leave and keep them from getting hurt. That's the soul of MI, the same emotional damage Ethan's carried since MI1.

Mission Impossible: Dead Reckoning

"I was hoping it'd be you."

shocker, I'm not picking the moment when Ethan literally Says The Fucking Theme Out Loud, nope. I'm picking the moment Ilsa decides she too will follow the new IMF's batshit "beat the trolley problem by pushing the trolley off the tracks" creed, and gives up everything for a woman she doesn't know who is in over her head.

History repeats, and Dead Reckoning's obsession with closing the loop and creating internal consistency out of a series that has had five directors and seven films works perfectly for me. Venice is a visual recreation of Prague in MI1, with Ethan racing down dimly lit streets to save someone but is just not fast enough.

I also have this personal read on the scene as a refutation of Gabriel and the Entity, who represent an almost Calvinistic philosophy of inevitability and fate. Gabriel tells a lot of fucking lies for a guy fashioning himself to be a prophet, and he taunts Ethan about having to choose between Grace and Ilsa.

But Ethan doesn't chose shit, he's busy getting almost suffocated by Paris in an alleyway. Ilsa is the one who makes a decision, and for a person like Ilsa who literally was the person to ask Ethan to run away with her because all this spy shit is useless and meaningless

Ilsa is the one who picks, and she decides to save Grace. Not Ethan and not the Entity and not Gabriel.

Ilsa died to save an innocent (well mostly) woman, and that's the entire point of MI. There is no such thing as acceptable losses and if you can prevent someone's death, you do it.

AND THEN ETHAN SAYS THAT OUT LOUD TO GRACE BECAUSE "YOU DON'T EVEN KNOW ME" "WHAT DIFFERENCE DOES THAT MAKE?" AND THAT'S MISSION IMPOSSIBLE

okay i'm done

[bleach-your-panties]

Heyyy babe 💗💗 I saw your Valentine’s event and it’s so cute!! Can I please request G + K + N for Yuuji bae? 😘💗 I am sending you lots of love and thank you for this sweet event 💗💗

Hey Winter bae!! 🤍🤍Thank you for sending this in for Yuuji-poo!🫶🏽 Sending more love back🥰

a/n: they are in their 3rd year here and gojo is still their teacher because he just has to be. nobara is also here because she just has to be.

----

❥⋱G- Gift: What did he get you?

Now, it took Yuuji a little time to decide on the perfect gift for you, because we all know our baby is a little dumb and doesn’t actually know much about what girls like. Of course, he had to drag Megumi and Nobara along for this little impromptu shopping trip, much to their (Megumi’s) disinclination. 

So, as they’re strolling through the Tokyo shopping district, Yuuji's thinking hard about what you might like.

“Oh, there’s a video store! Let’s go in here!” 

Megumi scowls immediately and Nobara is very tempted to slap the pinkette upside his head.

“Idiotdori, this is why girls don’t like you.” Nobara told him after following through with slapping him upside the head. Yuuji grimaced and rubbed the bump that was beginning to form through his messy pink locks.

“Y/N likes me…”

“An unfortunate revelation for her, I’m sure.”

Yuuji just decided to let that last comment fly and look around the store. Posters advertising the latest release of his favorite movie, Human Earthworm, were strewn up on the walls, which gave him an idea.

Since Valentine’s Day was right around the corner, the store had a little display shelf of romantic movies set up near the checkout counter, ranging in genres from comedy to horror. How a horror movie can be romantic, well, just ask Yuuji.

He approached the display, started picking though the titles, and came upon a strategically placed box of those friendship necklaces where one person wears half the heart and gives the second half to their significant other.

“Why are you getting her a friendship necklace, she’s your girlfriend.” Nobara chastised as Yuuji went to the counter with his armload of purchases.

“She’s also my best friend, so I think it’s a fitting gift!” The pink-haired male retorted, sticking his tongue out. Megumi was just here so he didn’t get fined.

Gojo then appeared out of thin air, giggling at how flustered Yuuji looked while he waited his turn in line, and even offered to pay for everything. Yuuji declined politely because this was going to be your first Valentine’s Day together and he wanted to do it himself.

—

Yuuji decided to give you your gifts during the Valentine’s Day party Gojo threw for the class (and had catered and everything)

He approached you with a shy disposition; unusual for him, but he was nervous that you wouldn’t like his gifts.

“Y/N! I got you this!” Yuuji thrust a big, rectangular white box with a light pink satin ribbon tied around it into your arms. 

You stumbled back a bit with an ‘oof’ - the box was pretty heavy!

“I really hope that you like it!” He bowed his head with his cheeks tinted pink.

Walking over to your desk, you moved your Valentine cards and gifts from Megumi and Nobara to the side and set the box down. Upon opening it, you let out a soft gasp: inside the box laid a bouquet of small pink tulips, reminiscent of Yuuji’s hair color; the necklace, an assortment of DVDs, and multiple movie snacks.

Your eyes widened as you looked at the arrangement of everything, the time and thought that he had to put into this to make it look nice for you. First, you picked up the necklace, and a soft smile adorned your face as you read what it said.

“Best Friends Forever.”

“Flip it over.” Yuuji now stood next to you, watching with careful eyes.

On the back, one side of the necklace was engraved with his initials and the other yours. 

“We can each wear the opposite, so we’ll always have a piece of each other’s heart.” He said, sounding so cute.

Your throat started to get scratchy; you had to swallow so you didn’t end up crying. Still your voice wobbled a bit,

“Yuu, I love this, and you got…Human Earthworm, all five of them, wow..” You laughed while subtly trying to blink away the tears.

“So…you like it?” Yuuji asked with his honey-gold eyes blown wide.

“I love it. This is so thoughtful; thank you, baby. I can’t wait to watch all of them with you.”

Yuuji was overjoyed that you actually ended up liking his gift! He held you to him as you wrapped your arms around his torso, then flipped Nobara the bird with a triumphant grin on his face.

Nobara rolled her eyes and turned towards Megumi, who was just silently observing from his desk.

“Why did you let him buy that?!”

“What do you mean ‘let’ - no way you’re trying to blame this on me right now…”

Meanwhile, a chibi version of Gojo was in the background snapping photos with his old-school Polaroid camera while pink hearts floated around his head.

Safe to say that Yuuji does know a little bit about what girls like. His girl, at least.

❥⋱K - Kiss: Get those lips ready! Smooches 💋

Yuuji loves kissing you! He gets so excited about it, too. It makes his heart swell with pride and love when you ask him for kisses, and even more so when others are around, because that shows just how much you're into him. Though if you're a little shy, he won’t pressure you into PDA; he never wants to make his baby feel uncomfortable, even with him. French-kissing is his favorite; he just loves the taste of you so much, and the little sounds that you make when he moves his tongue a certain way. He also likes to leave kisses (and hickies) all along the expanse of your neck and shoulder, making sure that you can still cover them with your top.

❥⋱N - Naughty: One thing he’d like to try in the bedroom.

This young man has an incredibly large sexual appetite, so honestly there’s probably not too much that you haven't tried in the bedroom already. Though something that never really crossed his mind was Facetime sex. 

“Yuuji, you’re only a few rooms down from me? If you want to have sex, we just…can.” You asked in confusion.

He shook his head profusely,

“No, babe. I want to try something different. I want to be able to look at you but not be able to touch you. I want to yearn for you.”

You were pretty shocked when he admitted this but decided to give it a go-ahead.

Now, whenever you’re away on long solo missions, you’ll have to be extra careful about accepting Facetime calls from Yuuji, lest everyone around you gets an eyeful of him stroking his long, hard cock for you, whining your name, and saying how much he misses you as he overstimulates himself for your viewing pleasure.

----

valentine a-z ©bleach-your-panties 2024. do not steal, repost, or upload my shit to tiktok! reblogs always welcome!

[laundrybiscuits]

Tagged by @greenlikethesea! Genuinely quite touched that you thought to tag me even though I've basically been MIA lately!

last song: "The Party" by Yuna

favorite color: Celadon and indigo, probably

last book: “Land of Milk and Honey” by C. Pam Zhang—a near-future climate dystopia scifi (I refuse to say cli-fi. I won’t do it. I REFUSE.) that’s sort of like…The Menu meets Venomous Lumpsucker, with bonus toxic yuri and a commentary on "heritage"-oriented conservation ethics and Orientalism.

last movie: "I Saw the TV Glow" which was absolutely right up my alley.

(For some reason, I kept thinking of Chungking Express; they are obviously VERY different films, but there's something about the way both start out with a lot of space and sort of collapse inwards, getting tighter and tighter before releasing the tension in a sudden but understated shift. I don't think this is necessarily a very strong analytical angle, but I might go watch Chungking Express again anyway.)

last show: Does Dropout count? If we’re talking scripted TV, I recently rewatched some IWTV.

sweet/spicy/savory: I think my favorite foods (e.g. nyonya laksa) are actually all of the above! Why pit three bad bitches etc etc. I also genuinely enjoy bitter/sour flavor notes—I don't think my palate is particularly sophisticated, but I do appreciate a little contrast and balance. 

relationship status: Happily partnered!

last thing I googled: "samyang scoville chart"

current obsession: The un-fun answer is work. It is actually a legit character flaw that I get a bit intense about work; I really need to set better boundaries, but somehow I always have an excuse about why this is totally absolutely just a temporary push while [justification du jour] is going on. It's not great.

Fandom-wise, I’ve been a bit tempted to dip into Wicked lately—shockingly, there aren’t that many Gelphie fics on AO3?? Wild. I do not actually have the time or energy to actually do anything at the moment, but I was into the Oz books as a child + Maguire's Wicked as a teen, it was my very first Broadway show, and I just interviewed someone who worked on the movie. Perhaps most crucially, I also recently read an extremely bad take in a professional review that Wicked is boring because it's about not being mean to green people.

Historically, spite has been a VERY effective motivator for me. I don't have time but I keep thinking...maybe I do? I mean, I don't. But maybe I do?

looking forward to: Seeing a bunch of my friends soon! Ever since I moved back to the US about a year ago, my social life has gotten a little, ah, idiosyncratic. My life is in kind of a weird place right now!