#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.

[siriaeve]

“We’ve never backed down from one of Andy’s challenges yet,” Joe said, setting down the second chair so that it faced the first in the middle of the room. “Why would we start now?”

“Because you’re trying to make better life choices?” said Nile from where she was still perched at the dining table.

Joe snorted.

“I mean, it could happen,” Nile said wryly as she popped one last piece of biscotti into her mouth.

“It’s important to keep our faith in the possibility of miracles, Nile,” Nicky said as he sat down in one of the chairs. It was rickety, like most of the furniture in this temporary safe house, and he had to balance carefully so that he wasn’t constantly toppling backwards and forwards.

“Even while we acknowledge certainties,” Joe said, sitting down opposite him. They were so close that their knees touched. “Such as the fact that I’m going to win.”

Nicky arched an eyebrow. “You are so sure of that, my love?”

“Oh my god,” Nile said under her breath, “are they actually going to trash talk one another about this?”

“Why do you think I challenged them?” Andy said as she doctored her coffee with a glug of vodka. “More entertaining than any TV show.”

Then, louder, Andy went on, “The rules are simple. Whichever one of you goes the longest without kissing the other is the winner. May the best man win.” She saluted them with her mug and then sat back in her chair, grinning.

Andy knew what Joe and Nicky would both readily have admitted about themselves: that they were deeply in love, and that they each had a competitive streak as wide as it was stubborn. Neither of them was going to make this easy.

Very deliberately, Nicky braced his elbows against his knees, leaned in towards Joe, and smiled ever so slightly.

“It’s not in any of the history books,” Andy said, taking a sip of her coffee, “but these two invented gay chicken.”

“Is it still gay chicken if they’re both gay?” Nile said, dubiously, even as Joe leaned in very close to Nicky in turn.

Their faces were now mere inches apart. Nicky’s eyes were sparkling and Joe’s lips were trembling and they kept erupting in little snorts of laughter, first one and then the other. Joe’s gaze flickered back and forth from Nicky’s eyes to his mouth.

“You’re an incurable romantic,” Nicky murmured.

“So I’ve been told,” Joe said. “And I will write ghazals and odes in your honour, light of my life, but I’m not going to kiss you.”

They stared at one another. The minutes ticked by.

“Am I the only one to think this is kind of weird?” Nile said.

Andy shrugged.

“Your eyes are very beautiful, my love,” Nicky said.

Joe took one of Nicky’s hands in his and started to rub gentle circles into the palm of Nicky’s hand with his thumb. “If they are, it is only because they are reflecting back your radiance, ya hayati.”

Nicky licked his lips.

Out of the side of her mouth, Andy said in a stage whisper, “Tactical move or a sign that he’s slipping?”

Nicky shifted just a bit in his chair and cocked his head to one side. He dimpled deliberately as he said, “But what light was there in my life, Yusuf, before I understood that you were the other half of my soul?”

“Oh brother,” Andy said with a sigh, casting her eyes up towards the ceiling.

“You started this,” Nile told her. “I was the one who said we could watch a movie or something.”

Neither Joe nor Nicky showed any sign of paying attention to either of them. They were intent entirely on one another now, Joe still clasping Nicky’s hand and the two of them curving close to one another, their lips scant inches apart.

“I’m impressed that you can remember so far back,” Joe said softly, “to our misspent youths, to before I knew how much my heart could love a wild-eyed, sword-wielding Frankish priest.”

“Flatterer,” Nicky breathed.

“But I’m not so up-to-date with my Christian theology,” Joe said, now so close that his beard rasped against Nicky’s stubble. He paused for a long moment, letting his breathing sync up with Nicky’s. “Do I still tempt a priest? Are we being scandalous right now? Do I lead you astray?”

Nicky pulled back a little, just enough to let him look down at their joined hands and then up through his lashes at Joe. “Scandal is only ever a stumbling block in the path of the faithful, my love. But perhaps after all this time, I am the one who has not learned to walk that path correctly.” He bit at his lower lip, making a show of letting it run through sharp teeth. “You might have to… instruct me.”

Andy cackled.

“You magnificent shit,” Joe breathed, delighted.

“How has it been twenty minutes already?” asked Nile.

“Are we allowed to take our shirts off?” Joe asked without looking away from Nicky. He waggled his eyebrows. Nicky snickered.

“Nope,” Andy said refilling her coffee cup.

“Oh my god,” said Nile in hollow tones.

“Ah,” Joe said, very earnestly to Nicky, “the judges believe I have a hotness advantage, Niccolò.”

“I would say that you have the thirst advantage,” Nicky said mildly.

“I am definitely thirsty,” Joe said.

“You are free to drink from my lips at any time, my love,” Nicky said.

“If they start composing poetry to one another,” Nile said, turning to Andy, “it’s on you.”

Andy’s eyes lit up with a spark of mischief. “Oh there’s an idea for the next time. A rap battle!”

Nile buried her head in her hands.

“Do not scoff, Nile,” Nicky said loyally. “My Joe could surely master this rapping skill if he put his mind to it. He is very talented, you know.”

Why this was the moment in particular that broke Joe’s resolve, who could say—only Joe knew, and he was too busy kissing Nicky—ardently, fiercely, Nicky’s cheeks cradled in his hands—to explain.

[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.

[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.”

[yumandoull]

friends to lovers dom!yuma or smth, something simple and basic😔 i have no ideas rn but i’ll definitely send more requests when i come up with stuff

I wanna ruin our friendship, We should be lovers instead (A Nakakita Yuma one-shot)

Warnings: perv!yuma at the start (yes.), bimbo!reader, fem!reader,collage dormmates yuma and reader, a little non-consensual groping and picture taking, use of drugs, hickeys, boob sucking (man loves them on you), slight?? oral (f receiving), reader is whiny and demanding, lowkey bratty!reader, unprotected sex!! (don't), cumming inside, lots of kissing and praises, pet names (sugar, sweetheart, babe, baby), aftercare <3 (this one is ALWAYS a do), implied mutual pining, getting together. This was not proofread again so expect typos and grammatical errors. Let me know if I missed something!

Plot: You thought that Yuma was the perfect roommate, he was so caring and sweet. But little did you know, he was hiding something from you. Something a little...inappropriate.

Message from the doll: Hey dolls!! This has been in my inbox for the past week or two actually uhmm sorry guli 😞 I didn't have much idea for this but hopefully y'all witll still like it. Right after I post this, I'll find some motivation to work on part two for Run, Rabbit <3

• Your dormmate, Yuma, is really kind. He often makes you dinner or orders take out when he knows you're busy with activities or projects for your course, he makes sure you drink tea instead of coffee when it's late since he insists that it's better for you, he even does some of your chores when he knows you're really really busy.

• Now Yuma may be kind to you, he is also a little bit of a perv. How could he not be? You're so comfortable around him that you are fine with walking around in a tight top and shorts with nothing else around the dorm, your lips looks so round and pretty with your lip combo, and those short skirts you always wear around the dorm sometimes.

• One of Yuma's favorite things to do with you are movie nights, especially if there's a new horror movie that came out. You were easily scared and often clings to his side during tense moments. Your sweet and soft scent fills his nose, he can fell your boobs squished against his arms.

• When Yuma is a little stressed out, he will suddenly come up behind you and fondle your breasts. Ignoring your protests and tells you that they're the perfect stress toys and he deserves it for taking care of you.

• There are times when you are in short skirts, Yuma sneakily walks behind you to snap a picture underneath your skirt and the pictures doesn't stop there. You accidentally splashed water on yourself while washing the dishes and made your shirt a little see through? He immediately opens his camera app. You are leaning forward on your mirror as you get ready for a party and a little too much cleavage is showing because of your tight dress? You can almost hear a faint snap sound. You're sleeping peacefully with your blanket kicked off with that sheer night gown? His phone is already out and so is his cock.

Yuma was alone in the dorm while you were out partying, he was watching a show in hopes to distract his mind from you. He saw you getting ready earlier, looking all dolled up and tempting, and he hates the thought of other guys ogling at you at the party. It was around 11PM when he heard some struggles at the door knob and he decides to get up to check through the peep hole to find you. Yuma opens the door and was surprised when you immediately fell trips over yourself and lands in his arms, "Woah- you okay, sugar?" He asks, helping you walk to the couch. "Noo.." You replied, almost like a desperate whimper. "My drink, someone messed with it.."

Yuma tenses up when he heard your words, "What? What do you mean 'someone messed with your drink'?" He repeats, hoping it wasn't what he was thinking. "I mean someone- drugged it. I don't know who it was..!" Your mind was already hazy, you felt warm all over despite the air conditioning in the dorm. Yuma notices your flushed face and your body was so hot, like literally and not because he finds you hot- what who said that.

"Do you...do you know what kind of drug they used? I mean, it's certainly not sleeping pills." Yuma tried to play it cool, acting as if he doesn't know that they were probably aphrodisiacs or something with the same effect and that he really really wants to make you feel better. "I don't knoww~ but I'm feeling so needy, Yuma~" You whined before adding, "Can you help me? Please? I came home since I don't want anyone else there, I want you." Yuma swore his pants dropped right then and there from your words. Him?? You specifically wanted him to help you since you don't trust anyone else??? This had to be a dream but nonetheless, Yuma picks you up and carried you to your bed to be more comfortable. "Of course I'll help you, sweetheart.."

Yuma has been littering kisses and marks around your neck, making sure that you now know who you belong to, but you were getting too impatient because of the drug in your system. "Yumaaaa~ I'm too impatient to take things slow right now." Yuma chuckles and places a harsh bite on your shoulder, "I'm trying to be a gentleman here, babe." You grumbled as your hands are already fumbling with the hem of his shirt, "I don't need you to be a gentleman right now, I have needs to be fulfilled right now! And we both know you're not a gentleman in bed."

Yuma laughs before getting up to straddle your waist, he removes his shirt and throws it somewhere on your bedroom floor. "Alright, alright. I'll stop playing the act." Yuma lifts you up slightly and makes you lean against the headboard of your bed, his hands reaching behind you to unzip your dress and he quick discards it. Yuma fumbles and struggles a little with your bra, he gets impatient and tears it off, the sound of ripping fileld your ears. "You couldn't have asked for help??" You knew Yuma was strong but not that strong. "I'll buy you a new one."

Yuma throws the ripped fabric and his lips immediately finds your one of hardened nipples, his mouth and tongue moves in a starving manner. "Mmh, finally get to do this.." He mumbles, his hand moves up to give attention to the other. He alternates his mouth to the two, his hooded eyes looking up to watch your reactions. After he was satisfied, he trails his mouth down to your stomach. Yuma's mouth connects with your clothed core, his saliva soaking your underwear further. "You taste so addictive..even with something in the way." He continues to suck and lick you through the this fabric, his hands holding your thighs open.

A needy sound leaves your lips, "Yuma, pleasee..I can't take it anymore.." Yuma chuckles and gets to his knees, sliding your panties down to leave you completely bare for his eyes. He's been waiting too long to have you like this. Yuma hooks his thumb to remove his sweatpants along with his boxers, leaving them on the floor with the rest of his and your clothes. "Want me to go in raw?" Yuma asks you, watching as you immediately nod, clearly getting impatient. Yuma leans down, wrapping your arms around his neck. "Tell me if it's too much, okay?" He presses his lips against yours while he lines himself up and slowly stretches you out. Yuma feels you gasp against his lips, your arms pulling him closer against you. He stays still for a moment before pulling away from your lips, "Can I move?" You nod. "Wrap your legs around me."

You complied and Yuma starts off slow, making sure not to overwhelm you. "Faster please.." You requested and Yuma grants, placing his hands on the mattress next to you to cage you in his arms as he thrusts faster and harder into you. "Like this, baby? You feel so warm.." He kisses you on the mouth again, his hips finding a steady rhythm. Yuma can feel you getting tighter, the sounds leaving your lips becoming more frequent and high-pitched. "Getting close, hm? Let go for me."

Your fingers gripped on Yuma's hair, adorable needy sounds leaving your lips as you come around his cock. Yuma groans as he feels you clench around him, "I'm coming, baby. Should I pull out?" He asks, not wanting to do something you wouldn't want. "No, don't- Cum inside me, please. I need it~" You begging in that whiny tone was enough for Yuma. Another groan leaves his lips as he spills his warmth inside you.

Yuma pressed his forehead against yours, his breath warm against your face. "You did so well, do you know how long I was waiting to do that?" He laughs and litters more kisses around your face, seeing you all spent and content before him felt unreal. "I'll take care of the cleaning, just rest and look pretty for me hm?"

Yuma runs a bath for you, washing your hair thoroughly, making sure to use your favorite soaps. He sets you down on the counter and dries your hair with a towel, smiling to himself while looking at you, all pretty and marked up by him. He leaves you for a bit to change the bed sheets, replacing them with clean ones. Yuma puts on your favorite movie and goes back to the bathroom to carry you back to the bed, setting you down before laying next to you and pulling the blanket over the two of you. "Feel better, sugar?" You nod, resting your head on his shoulder. "So much better. Thanks a lot, Yu." Another sweet kiss lands on top of your head, Yuma brushes off stray hair from your face. "Anything for my favorite girl." He murmurs against your hair. You were silent for a bit, thinking about the happenings earlier.

"Do you think this will affect our friendship?" You suddenly asked, turning to look at Yuma. He thinks for a moment, should he tell you the truth or no? Fuck it. "You know what? I hope it does. I don't wanna be friends anymore, I want to cherish you and adore you in a way you deserve." He suddenly blurts out, he freezes when he realized what he said and waits for your reaction. "Wait, seriously? Like...you like me, romantically??" You repeated, you didn't want to jump into conclusion.

"Are you kidding? Of course I do, how could I not fall for you?" Yuma boops your nose, "You're pretty, you're hardworking, you're smart, and after what we did tonight? I'm definitely not letting you go." Yuma's arms wraps around you, he pulls you down to sit on his lap. "So, what do you think? Will you let me be your boyfriend?"

You replied by kissing him on the lips, your hand trailing from his chest to his shoulders. Yuma responds to you, pulling you closer by your waist. The kiss was different from before, it was filled with unspoken feelings and emotions. You could feel his smile against yours, making you smile as well. You pull away with a smile on your face that matched his, you rested your head on his shoulder. Yuma's arm tightened around you in a possessive but loving way, a hand moves up to stroke your hair. The two of you enjoyed the others company during that night, just sitting in the comfortable silence.

You still didn't know who was the jerk that drugged you in the first place but they definitely deserve a little credit for this ending.

Another message from the doll: Soooo this was only supposed to be something short like a drabble but guess who got carried away again lmaoo 😋 I didn't even do this in google docs like I did it straight on the app so there's no word count sorry gang 🙏 and this might be more fluffy and cute than I also expected from myself but we'll roll with it! So as always, let me know your thoughts!! Inbox is always open for requests, thoughts, and feedback <3

Very important message: They dropped Go in Blind while I was finishing up on this and the choreo???? Like woah yuma 😻 ugh love him so much I LOVE THEM ALL SO MUCH ACTUALLY and like harua's part with the blindfold??? EJ BITING ON IT??? HELLO????

[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 ♡♡

[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.

[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.

[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!)

[neaththeheavens]

Get to know me better!

Eee, excited to be tagged in one of these! Thank you so much, @dragonsongmakhali! I'm like to be long-winded in my answers, so I apologize for that in advance!

Tagging: @airis-ray, @candycryptids, @tasaren, @ishgardianskypirate, & @zolfjkimbley. If you've already done this, I'm sorry!! (Please link me to the post, too, because I wanna get to know youuuuu!) <3

last song: Yesterday by Marianas Trench, which is my favorite band in the whole wide world. I was first introduced to them on my 23rd birthday forever ago and I've been a fan ever since! Highly recommend if you like upbeat, pop-y rock!

favorite color: Emerald green! (My hair is like, a true green right now.) Even like to wear the color, or variations of it! Lighter and darker shades. I have this one dress I wear that's a blue-y green that looks like it's straight from an episode of the old Sabrina the Teenage Witch (it's very 90s and I love it).

last book: In the middle of Two Twisted Crowns by Rachel Gillig right now. It's dark fantasy with a little bit of romance ever so slightly sprinkled in. Super interesting world to be in; I love the "powers" that certain people have. It's a unique story! (This is the second book in the series!)

last movie: Good lord, it's been so long since I watched an actual movie. I THINK the last one I watched was the Paw Patrol movie with my niece, lol.

last tv show: An old episode of Spongebob, as that's what I watch to fall asleep at night. Gotta have noise and it has to be something familiar that I won't be tempted to watch. So, Spongebob it is! :P

sweet/spicy/savory: Sweet, without a doubt. My favorite food is strawberries; they're tart and sweet so that counts right? Sometimes I dip 'em in sugar too. GOD, THEY'RE GOOD. I want some now, but it's cold out and I refuse to go to the store just for strawberries.

relationship status: Terminally single! Not by choice, either. I just don't go anywhere. And I don't do dating apps. 🤷‍♀️ And I live in a small enough place that everyone knows everyone so everyone is in everyone's business. Eurgh.

last thing I searched for online: Something for ffxiv? Like where to find a resource, I think. I believe it was dimythrite ore. I was doing my daily round up of stuff for all my DoH jobs, and I couldn't remember where to get it.

current obsession: Besides the obvious answer of ffxiv and my WoL, watching people play Endwalker. I love seeing their reactions to the end. (I'm on my like, 6th watch of watching someone play though it again. Ha!)

looking forward to: My next tattoo. It's gonna be a small but meaningful one!

[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

[screemnch]

My silly little thoughts on "Labyrinth" (1986)

This isn't gonna be well put together at all, but I've just rewatched Labyrinth for the first time in years, and I have some... Thoughts

Watching it, the whole way through I kept thinking "woah, this is such a girlhood movie, damn" and while I think it goes a little bit beyond that, I still stand by this to a degree. Partially because I believe that it contains within itself a few core fantasies that young girls have drilled into their heads. Not to say that there's anything wrong with those fantasies, or that they're exclusive to women, BUT because I feel like it feeds in to the rest of the analysis.

The "I Can Fix Him" Fantasy.

I feel like this is pretty self explanatory, and also not really. I never found the movie particularly romantic (maybe that's just the aroace experience), it always felt deceptive and exploitative to me, BUT: Jareth does very much position himself as some sort of a dark romantic figure. He is being predatory towards Sarah, but in a way exploits the ideas that have been fostered by the books that she's read (or alternatively, he is constructed by Sarah entirely to match the book character, potentially deviating in where she personally wanted him to. But for this analysis, we're taking the existence of the goblin city, as well as Jareth's agency, at face value).

He presents himself as someone who has Sarah's interests in mind, even positioning his acts of malice (shortening the time she has to save Toby) as some feat he accomplished for her sake. If a person were to buy into his deception, at most they could grant him that he's "misguided" - which is where the fantasy kicks in. "If only Sarah could have done something to direct him, reign in his power towards what she actually wants, instead of outright rejecting it" - is a sentiment that I image people could have towards this story. And obviously, I disagree, in the sense that I believe that that is all a facade. It feels pretty textual to me that what Jareth is saying is very much a load of bullshit. The thinking of "if only" that he attempts to encourage in Sarah during the final confrontation is made to make her feel guilty for his actions and instil further compliance. If she doesn't do as he says because she is tempted by what he can offer - perhaps attempting to trick her into thinking that it's all her fault and what she actually wanted all along could work? But more about compliance later. For now, let's move to fantasy number 2.

The Plausible Deniability of Desire.

I don't actually have a name for it, and I don't know if there is one... But I find it to be one of the reasons why abduction, kidnapping, and other such tropes exist in media targeted towards women. You see it a lot in stories, even when it's painted in a negative light - a female character is held prisoner by a character who is either evil, or perceived to be evil, and to get her to cooperate the character offers (or forces onto) her fancy dressed, jewellery and other luxuries. Usually it's seen as the character attempting to "buy" the woman with "vain" items, but... The character still spends some time running around in the fancy dresses, even as she rejects the character's propositions, she still has to deal with all this luxury being thrust upon her. That's not even mentioning the stories where the person forcing these things onto the woman is her love interest.

I believe that there is a certain appeal that these scenes hold for the audience. This appeal is directly linked to how often young girls are raised to look down upon "vanity items", regard themselves as better and unlike those "dumb pretty girls who would sell their souls for a pair of shoes". Girls are also, in general, taught that they shouldn't want things. We see there are stories that focus on girls that want things, but you see way more often the girl that rejects the "vapid normalcy" of girlhood. Media teaches girls to not want things, that they are to be a passive receptacle of the will of those around them, all so that they can grow up to be good housekeepers and caretakers. The less you want, after all, the less the dissatisfaction of your everyday life hurts.

So, girls are taught to not want anything, and yet - they still want. After all, those dresses and jewellery and all that other stuff does look awesome. It's made to look awesome. The way that this is resolved, at least in fiction, is through the fantasy of this abductor/captor, that gives you all these fancy things, sometimes forces you to engage in all these "vain" activities such as dancing and having fun (god forbid) - and that's where you get the plausible deniability of desire. After all, it's not your fault that you're being given all these nice things! They are nice, and much better than whatever you had before, but it's not like you wanted it. The character gets something the audience wants, without committing the heinous crime of wanting.

I don't think I need to explain how that plays into the "Labyrinth". You just have to look at the tag and see all the gifs people share of Sarah in the ballroom scene, with the gorgeous dress and the slow ethereal dancing amidst a fantastical and dream-like masquerade. It's not her fault that she's going along with Jareth's plant at the moment - her memory's been erased! If she also gets to dance with David Bowie in one of the most beautiful dresses that I've ever seen... Well what can you do?

Sooo... Girlhood?

I don't even know how to get into this properly, because there are so many different approaches to this, and I don't wanna show all my cards at once, but...

"Everything you have wanted, I have done. You asked that the child be taken, I took him. You cowered before me I was frightening. I have reordered time, I have turned the world upside down, and I have done it all for you." "I ask for so little: just let me rule you, and you can have everything that you want." This is Jareth's main "thesis" so to speak. His final appeal to Sarah. Summing it up in less fancy and manipulative terms "Um, actually, you wanted me to do all these things that made your life difficult (but surprisingly, none of the things that could've made your life easier), and if you just want what I want, then you can have what I you want" - according to him, Sarah's the unreasonable one for not wanting her brother to be turned into a goblin, and she should've just let Jareth placate her with pretty dresses and parties for god knows how long.

This kinda felt like this... Experience to me. Again, not exclusive to women (if, at the very least, because I am not a woman and I find this relatable), but very frequently present in girls' upbringing. People telling them that they know what they want, and that all these things? It's done for them and they should be grateful. But if you look past the guilt tripping - what Jareth is looking for is a means of control. This is where we bring back the "if I could fix him" fantasy. Because there isn't actually any fixing being done.

I don't wanna go on too much of a tangent, but I find this to be present in a lot of stories where the love interest (which I hate to use for this movie) needs "fixing" - most of the time the "fixing" is just the female character adapting, complying and submitting. The one who's the asshole at most just becomes an "asshole but monogamous" now, while usually also getting to call the female character out for "being a hypocrite" and essentially bullying her into accepting the character with their flaws and assholishness. In "Labyrinth" Sarah did the right thing, which left her without Jareth's illusory offerings of happiness, which in reality was just complacency. Any kind of "if only" speculation, would involve Jareth having a degree of power over her. And then it hit me.

The Anti-Capitalist Curveball

I think "Labyrinth" goes a little bit beyond being a "girlhood" movie, as I've stated at the beginning. In my humble opinion, the "girlhood" aspect of it, ties into the more expansive anti-capitalist, revolutionary messaging of the story. Let me put it like this:

There is a king. He is powerful, and uses this power to push around his subjects, forcing them into misery and suffering, where there is no protection against inter-community violence and those who do not support the king's selfish ideas are punished. The King commits a transgression, a crime - kidnaps a child. His offering to the young heroine to save the child is an empty one - he doesn't believe that she'll get even as far as the oubliette. Once she does, he instructs one of his subjects to thwart her, which doesn't pan out - said subject is at first tricked into helping her, and then forms a genuine friendship with the heroine. All the king has to offer is threats of violence, which does work for quite a while, but does not reach sufficient results.

The girl, it turns out, has befriended those who have been made miserable by the king's rule, so one saboteur isn't enough to stop her. When at first she saw the "unfairness" of the labyrinth as something bizarre, she has since grown to understand it as part of the design, and taken active steps to prevent unfair treatment towards those she considers friends - even if they appear monstrous.

So the king takes a different approach - he offers her something that none of her friends could offer her, nothing that she could possibly achieve on her own (at least as long as she plays by his rules). He grants her an escape - a special status away from her responsibility (induced by amnesia), where she can have the fairytale setting she had always wanted. It's stuff - dresses, jewellery, dancing, masquerades, decoration. Even he is there, a figure of authority and power. Within this "escape" - he is reachable to her, they are almost on the same level.

But the heroine manages to break out of this dream, this... False consciousness, one might even say, and (getting really heavy handed with the metaphors) finds herself in a junkyard. She is placated again with complacency - go back to her regular life, focus on the things, focus on the material, objects, do not think about what you were searching for, what you wanted, what injustice has been committed against you. Do not think of the crime that has been done. But that doesn't work either.

After storming the castle, the heroine goes to confront the king alone. Her friends are always there for her, as she is there for them - they have found solidarity, and therefore no longer need to push each other down in an attempt to climb further up the ladder. All that remains is to confront the one who made this horrible labyrinth. Metaphors even more heavy-handed than before find the heroine meters away from rescuing her brother, except no matter where she runs, the labyrinth is set up in a way that she will never get to him. There is no way to win, when following the rules that the king has set. So she jumps.

And the whole thing comes down.

We can bring back the feminist messagings with phrases like "my will is as strong as yours, and my kingdom as great." But we can also acknowledge that Jareth's power is perceived, when Sarah's is denied up until the very end (when it's suddenly all her fault). Jareth can only be in power if she allows it, which is what allows him to present himself as better than her. But having seen through the lies of things meant to placate her, come together with those who actually do care for her, Sarah is finally able to defy the rules of the game and bring down the made up system that protects this man from the consequences of his own transgressions. He has no power over her.

And look, I'm not saying that this is how it is in the real world. Obviously things are a lot more complicated, and the goblin kings of this world will most likely just kill those trying to defy them, rather than turn into an owl and fly into the night. I'm also not denying the main theme of "growing up" present within the film. I just think that it's an interesting viewpoint to take on. For most of the story Sarah cannot see a solution, because believes in an answer that doesn't involve deconstructing the walls around her, and I find that this mirrors the current sentiment of a lot of people. The regular everyday person (from my experience) can hardly picture a future without capitalism, without oppression, without division. And this "taking things for granted" is how Sarah is set up to fail. If she doesn't believe that the walls are illusory, if she doesn't defy the appeal of the material things offered to her, if she doesn't break the rules - she doesn't rescue her brother.

All this to say - yeah, I like this movie.