#oh shit they made the lighthouse from the movie the lighthouse

[pettybourgeoisblues]

just went to look at lego sets and dang i forgot about the harold the goddamn magical liberal ones. also why do they have lego funko pops.

[sunraies]

idk if u take smut requests, buuut i was thinking ab passenger princess rafe fucking u in the back of his new car

Passenger Princess Rafe is making me weak.

Lighthouse Grove

Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings - +18, MDNI!! (Please don't, I will start blocking). Smut. fingering, overstimulation. squirting, praise. Crying. Car Sex.

As requested above

Lighthouse Grove (made up). Is a lookout point known for hookups and drugs.

I'm nervous about this one. All proofread once.

Passenger Princess has 2k. Holy shit!

"Rafe, I'm as comfortable as I can be." You pulled his chin gently towards you. "Hurry up and kiss me before I start to overthink."

-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-

"Comfortable, baby?" Rafe tucked his hoodie behind your head, providing more comfort leaning against the hard door.

"Yes, ma'am." He chuckled and captured your lips with his.

As his tongue ran over your bottom lip, his hand trailed up your leg, gently lifting the hem off your dress up. His tasted of fries and soda from long since discarded drive-tru meal.

It was meant to be a drive to help clear his head. Rafe had texted you at around midnight. He needed to get out of the house as everyone was driving him insane. You suggested going for a drive and getting some food.

Which was how you ended up in a secluded part of Lighthouse Grove. A look-out point, known mainly for hookups and drugs but an amazing view of the ocean. A night, the lights of boats looked like stars mixed in with the lights from the mainland bordering the horizon.

"No panties?" Rafe pulled away with a raised eye brow as his fingers brushed against your folds.

"No bra, either." You breathed with a small smirk. "Perks of having to throw a dress on, in the middle of the night."

"God, baby. You are fucking amazing" He moved to get a better angle before bumping his head on the roof "Ah, shit!"

You laughed a little before kissing his head as he buried it in your chest. "Oh, poor baby." You cooed as gently ran your nails over the base of his hair. "You ok?"

"Shit looks so much easier in the movies." He grumbled, kissing any exposed skin he could find on your chest, neck, and shoulders.

"We can stop?" You offered, but you really didn't want him to as his hot kisses started to form a small fire in your stomach, burning to your core.

"Did you want to stop?" Rafe sat up more carefully and looked you in the eyes.

He always made sure you were comfortable, and if you needed to stop, he would.

"No." You smiled at him and cupped his cheeks, running your thumb over his bottom lip. "Use me to distract your mind, baby."

"Fuck, I adore you" He stared at you, suddenly crushing your lips in a bruising kiss before trailing his lips along your jaw and neck.

His ringed finger pulled down your dress strap as his kissed right down to your nipple. Your breath hitched as his lips closed around you while his fingers moved between your folds, his thumb rubbing your clit in small circles.

Your eyes fluttered closed as your hands roamed his back and head, nails combing over the buzzed hair. Your hips bucked as he continued to tease you while you could feel him growing hard against your thigh.

"Look at me, baby." He said softly as the tips of his fingers teased your entrance.

You opened your eyes to meet his gorgeous blue ones. His smile turned to a smirk as he slipped two fingers into you, curling them.

"I'm going to make you cum all over this backseat, baby. You are going to keep those pretty eyes on me the whole time." He said, so intensely it made butterflies bloom in your stomach.

He mimicked your open mouth expression as he pumped his fingers slowly while his thumb worked your clit.

"Rafe, shit. Please, baby. I can't. " You whimpered as his hand held your thighs from squishing together.

You were close to tears as you felt at the edge again. Rafe expertly used his fingers as you tightened around them, but every time you were close, he stopped. Building your orgasm to a point, you thought you would explode.

"In a minute, pretty girl." He kissed your forehead. "I know you can do it. I know. "

You shook your head but looked him in the eyes, pleading as you arched your back, desperate for realise.

The car windows were completely steamed up. The air was so thick as you panted and whimpered.

"Doing so good, my beautiful, gorgeous girl," Rafe cooed before smiling. He seemed to know your body better than you. "Let go, baby. I got you. Let it go. "

You orgasm hit you like a rocket ship as you cried out. An explosion of stars, clouded your mind as Rafe helped you ride it though, drawing it out as much as he could.

"Fucking incredible" He breathed in awe as you had soaked his hand and the seat.

"Fuck" You sobbed, catching your breath as he kissed the tears away before kissing your cheeks and lips. He knew they were overstimulated tears.

"You're ok, babygirl." He whispered and pulled you into his lap as best he could while sitting in the back seat. "You did so amazing."

You slowly regained control of your emotions and sniffled, your head rested in the croak of his neck. His warm hand smoothed your back as he placed kisses on your temple.

"Do we have any soda left?" You asked, looking up at him as he chuckled.

"Yeah, baby." He reached over to the cup holders in the front and held the straw to your lips.

"You're going to have to get the car valeted." You murmured as your cheeks burned a little.

"Don't worry about that, right now" He smiled before smirking. "Maybe I'll keep whatever stain it leaves."

He laughed when you hit his shoulder before whispering in your ear. "Plus, we aren't done yet, pretty girl"

You could feel how painfully hard he was underneath you, creating a whole new spark of excitement in your stomach.

[phoenixwatchesmovies]

Dracula Season Watch Party: The Lost Boys (1987)

After moving to a new town, two brothers discover that the area is a haven for vampires. - Dir. Joel Schumacher

Let's get one thing straight: this movie isn't. Stick a pin in that because we'll get back to that in due time.

In that case, though, WHERE DO I START? This is a fucking great movie and I'll fight anyone who says otherwise. (I didn't say you have to like it. Quality is objective and personal taste is not. Go forth with that nugget of wisdom.)

Starting at the beginning, then, we get one of the best movie themes ever written (as evidenced by the amount of covers that exist), some of my favorite establishing shots ever filmed, and the character entrance that made me say out loud, "OH SHIT 👀"

YOU SEE WHAT I MEAN. As the top comment on the video says, "you know it's awesome when you click just to watch the opening."

The entire movie is like that, TBH. It's almost as quotable as The Princess Bride Thee Greatest Movie Ever Made, and is matched only by The Shining for scenes I'll just watch on their own because I love them that much. Like this one, for instance, that I'm linking because I'm going to bring it up again later:

^^ the music, the camera, the lighting, the transition from the headlights to the lighthouse... It's so good...

Other great music moments include the "People Are Strange" montage of slice-of-life style clips of folks going about their day in Santa Carla intercut with all the posters of missing people hung up around the boardwalk, "I Still Believe" featuring Tim Cappello, Tina Turner's former saxophone player, "Walk This Way" as the boys close in on the surfers on the beach, and ENDLESS uses of "Cry Little Sister."

Brief moment to talk about the Emerson family dynamic. Script, performances, and direction all work together in all the best ways so you never doubt how much they care about each other, or how far they'll go for each other. You can argue for family being one of the core themes of the story, whether it's the one you're born into or the one you're...well, born in a sense, into. Either way, it's about the bonds you make, be it for a lifetime or an eternity.

Grandpa gets his own bullet for being such an icon, and for having the absolute #1 best last line of a movie in history. We waited an hour and a half for the punchline of a joke we didn't even notice we were being told. 🫡

Suppose I'll move onto the Frog brothers. Their antics are where most of the comedy comes from, and if there's one thing I have a problem with in this movie, it's the way the two halves don't quite fit together. Michael and David and Co. work on their own as an edgy, stylish, coming-of-age story. Sam and the Frog brothers are the most obvious giveaway that the original concept was something a bit more similar to The Goonies. And it's probably because I like the vampires a lot more, but the kids just aren't that interesting. They're funny and necessary, but I'm not as invested in what they're doing.

Which brings us back to the Lost Boys themselves. The name is a deliberate reference to Peter Pan, and that's where the tragedy of the whole thing comes in. Screenwriter James Jeremias, after reading Interview With The Vampire and the character Claudia in particular, ran with the idea that the reason Peter and his gang never grow up is because they're vampires (which came first, this movie, or the theory that Peter and Co. are the souls of dead children?). You can see that influence throughout the story, and apparently David and the boys were meant to contrast with Michael in the way they represent adolescence, given they're eternal teenagers.

Buuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuut I don't get that very much. I'm sure it's there, but in terms of x vs y, the vampires and the Frog brothers have always stood out more to me. Compare the two kids trying so hard to appear grown up (Edgar even puts on a deep voice that fools no one) and the four kids who will literally never grow up.

I also called this a tragedy, at least as far as the boys are concerned. What else could it be, being a horror movie, but you watch scenes like the bike ride and it's fun and exciting and you understand what Schumacher is going for. They're alive and living in the moment, free in the way only kids seem to be. As you learn what they are, you realize that, for them, at least, this freedom is forever. Life will always be one big party going from one thrill to the next. The tag line is literally "never grow old, never die." And only one of those is true by the end of the movie. The gut punch about David's death (aside from the fact that he dies at all, what can I say, I'm obsessed with him) is that he doesn't go out like the others do, with blood and melting flesh and explosions. He just...dies, as that child choir kicks in one last time, and you see him for what he always was--a dead kid.

In conversation with tragedy is the theme of monsterhood as a whole. When Michael is faced with the reality of what his new friends are and what he himself is becoming, David has this to say: "You'll never grow old, Michael, and you'll never die. But you must feed." Spoken after the vampires have slaughtered half a dozen beach bums, we have the cost of immortality underlined for us. We've also seen Michael struggle against his new nature when he nearly attacked his own brother earlier in the movie, and it's not like he chose to go after Sam because he's evil. It's instinct. Hunger. A matter of survival. We see him alternatively warning Sam to stay away from him and pleading for help to stop what's happening to him because he doesn't want to become a monster, a killer like David. And that's what makes David and the rest of the boys the antagonists, because their survival depends on killing and feeding on other people, but that's all they're doing, is surviving according to their nature. That's the tragedy of monsterhood.

Along with the realization that someone had to have done that to these kids. Someone chose to make them what they are, and that's the real evil of the story.

And speaking of Max, I appreciate the fake-out approach to revealing him as the real Big Bad. It's very Scream, where you were pretty sure it was Billy the whole time but there was that one scene that threw a temporary wrench in your theory. But Star's line about Max being a secret David was protecting comes out of nowhere in a way that feels like there was a bit more context for it initially, but it never made the final cut.

Which leads me to my other gripe. The pacing and timeline don't seem to be in obvious cooperation. Again, it feels like more was there at one point, but transitional scenes were left out, so it's hard to tell how much time passes between the Emersons moving to Santa Carla and the final showdown. Things could either happen very quickly in which case the escalation is on a level with Romeo and Juliet, or it's more spaced out and the space isn't apparent. And I'm leaning towards the "spaced out" approach.

Now. Allow me a few more indulgent moments, because we gotta talk about David.

Look at him.

LOOK AGAIN.

Istg, he stepped around the bend of that merry-go-round and I said, out loud, with words, "oh shit." I had a crisis for days afterward due to the gender envy. I STILL don't know if I want him or if I want to be him. (I'm too fond of my hair as it is to even think about whether or not I'm brave enough for a bleached mullet, so at least I don't really have to think too hard about the answer.) All this to say, can you really blame Michael? One look at this guy and I didn't know what kind of egg joke I wanted to make, so I'm not surprised our boy Mike was trying so hard to fit into this group.

(Yes, you're correct, I'm circling back to my opening statement.)

You can read this as straight up, pun slightly intended, guys being dudes and Michael just wanting to be accepted by the local cool kids. Makes sense, really. They are cool. He's the new kid in town, and that folds right into the usual coming of age narrative with finding your place in the world along with discovering your own identity, etc etc. But if that's the case, then why all the long, frequent, intense eye contact?

@verified-villain-fxcker gets it. 🥂

Look, I'm sure if you tried hard enough to find a heterosexual explanation for the homoerotic tension I'm seeing, you could. But you're on this site, browsing the tag for this movie, so do you really want to? I've got a whole thesis statement on how Schumacher being a gay man/identity influencing one's art/motorcycle clubs being part of queer culture rattling around somewhere in my head, but to keep mostly on topic, I'm sticking with this: part of the coming of age story is discovering your identity, which includes your sexuality. Therefore, it's hardly a stretch to say this is a movie about gay awakening as much as anything else and that Michael Emerson is a disaster bisexual. Of course I'm not the first person to see it that way, but Pride Month is almost over. What else was I going to end on?

He's queer, your honor. Happy Pride. 🏳️‍🌈

[cordycepsfem]

Pageboy Readthrough, Part Four

Previously

EP talks about her complicated relationship with her mom

Mom made her do things like wear dresses and tights and barrettes

Mom was worried about EP's future as a GNC person/potential lesbian/little strange kid

your reviewer says that's normal, even if it's unkind

we learned that EP's mom thinks boys should not be friends

your reviewer says that's not normal

your reviewer got maudlin at the end of it all and it was kinda a bummer

You can find previous parts of this readthrough here.

Now

Chapter Five

Jesus Christ we start off with this boat thing again

I am so sorry Halifax that for the short time I was in you I was eating waffles and buying doughnuts and trying not to get a parking ticket and not paying attention to your obviously super important maritime disaster issue

I will do better next time

EP should just write a book about this disaster - it can't be any less readable

but if you want to read an actual book about the disaster that's already written may I recommend this one

anyway sorry what was the point of this?

oh: the anchor from this ship explosion is 2 minutes away from where EP's dad lived

we learn more about maritime history - seriously, EP, think about it

Dad was a graphic designer with a mini golf hole thing in his office

EP imagines herself as the next Ernie Els (and yes I am proud that I didn't need to look up the name of an actual golfer, you are correct)

as far as I can tell no one tells EP that women also play golf

it goes from ships and golf to "oh, shit" in the way that one reacts to a sad disaster, because I now feel bad for EP who is clearly not well:

Really, lady? You published this? I can't decide if this is a "Buddhist one with the whole world" thing or a cry for help, because when I felt this way - that I was a meaningless speck in the universe - the people who loved me got me help.

Also, last time I checked meaningless specks don't get acting jobs or book contracts, so... perhaps not so "almost nothing," hey, EP?

EP gets a stepmother

the stepmother comes with two children

the stepmother had a waterbed (the only one EP has ever seen) and works as a food stylist

as a digression here, has anyone ever seen more than one waterbed? because I was thinking about it and I have only seen exactly one waterbed in my life

EP has a crush on Sandra Bullock, who stars in a movie that EP's stepmother "food styles" for

later in life she has dinner with Sandy and Sandy is great

EP starts to tell us about how she was a picky eater but for some reason devolves into a story about a Canadian lighthouse

we eventually get to the point that she was a picky eater and she was forced to eat things she didn't like

EP and her dad and her stepmother and the two stepsiblings all move in together

we learn more Canadian history here which I swear I would be very into if that was what kind of book I was told this would be

the one boy I ever dated before realizing I was a lesbian was super into Canada in a way that is extreme for someone who is not Canadian, and I enjoyed experiencing Canadian culture with him rather than trying to come up with new excuses why I didn't want to kiss or hold hands, so please believe me when I say I am all about Canada

like any human with a new room EP is excited to decorate

EP gets dreamy about having a stepbrother

like, really dreamy

by this we can infer that no one told EP the following things:

girls can remove their shirts that way as well

girls also have torsos and can wear dangling chains

anything you can buy in the supermarket will not change your sex, including Old Spice

ETA: I came back here because a "dab" and a "dollop" are two specific unspecific measurement units that don't interact, like ounces and inches, and it finally got to me that I didn't include it. You can "dab" cologne, you cannot "dollop" cologne unless you are literally pouring it over yourself in a ladle. If EP was doing that, I retract my remark.

the next part makes me super unhappy as someone who knows how physically capable boys, especially boys who play sports, are and how powerful they can be

but Scott manages not to paralyze EP

he just continues to be a prick, as does EP's stepmother

also, I have two siblings and we were never rough in the way that EP says Scott was - maybe because they're both female?

EP enjoys Playmobil and still likes to play alone

EP gets ready to go on an adventure, like a normal kid might, only to have her terrible stepfamily tease her

I am so sorry, EP, please go back to Canadian history

Dad was nicer when Linda wasn't around (shocker, men are a bummer)

also a bummer: this step mom

at this point I will now fight anyone EP directs me to fight on her behalf

I know it's a whiplash but seriously:

I was a weird kid. I was a lot. And yet never did my parents make me feel like I was wrong. They pointed out that I did things differently, or liked different things, and that the things I liked and did might not match up with what other people thought someone like me should do. But mostly they let me do what made me happy, to an appropriate extent.

They never mocked me when I was caught up in a world of elaborate fantasy. I went on lots of "adventures" to the point where I still call any unexpected journey, especially one I get to choose, be it to the 7-11 or the pharmacy, an "adventure," because it shakes up the day a bit.

They didn't shield me from some social consequences of being weird but they taught me that being myself was really more important. And they never asked me Why aren't you like them?

In fact, as the years have gone on and I've struggled with my mental and physical health, with employment, with my sexuality and my body, with living close to poverty, with everything - I have been the one asking my parents Are you ashamed I'm not like them? in regards to their friends' kids. Not a doctor, not a lawyer, not a mom?

And every single time, No. You're the one we love. You are on a journey that is uniquely yours and we are blessed to be a part of it. Unconditionally, without a second thought.

And as the designated "weirdo" in all of my growing-up-school years, I would have been EP's friend in an instant. We could have bonded over our short haircuts and picky eating and been the two weirdos together. Then neither of us would have been alone.

... and I guess we end this part same as we did the last one, with me super bummed and marginally more educated about Canadian history.

[whimsicallyreading]

Eight Second Ride

Part Three-

(Part Two)

“So you are telling me-“ Aedion scowls from the other side of her bed, “you ditched me for a sweaty bull rider and didn’t even last an hour into the date?”

Aelin shoves a spoonful of cookies and cream ice cream into her mouth and sniffles. “That’s all you got from my story?”

He slings an arm over Aelin’s shoulders and she lays her head on his chest gratefully. She’d caught an Uber back to her apartment where Aedion was already camped out waiting for her.

One look at her mascara smeared face, and he’d made a pillow fort on her bed. Complete with ice cream and “Little Women” playing on his phone.

“No, I got the whole chauvinistic asshole, bit.” Aedion stabs his spoon into the container and breaks up a particularly large piece of Oreo. “I just decided to focus on the part that doesn’t make me want to leave you hear and go and kill him right now.”

“I thought cowboys were supposed to be classy.” Aelin watched Jo play with her sisters in their attic on Aedion’s tiny screen. “Take city girls into the country to ride a horse and show them a bigger purpose in life, kind of shit.”

“Hallmark is such a liar.” Aedion huffs and squeezes her shoulder a little tighter. “I’m sorry, Lin. I know going out tonight was a big step for you. It’s a shame he acted the way he did.”

It was rare Aelin acted on a whim these days. Not like she used to do when she was in high school. She felt a pull to go with Rowan, but her gut had led her into a situation that could have gone south very quickly.

It’s a hard thing when you can’t trust yourself.

“No. I shouldn’t have gone. Especially not alone.” Aelin’s feels her thoughts drifting. Creeping towards that iron box of memories she keeps locked tight. “It’s my mistake.”

“No.”

The fervor in Aedion’s voice draws her attention up to his face, and Aelin is jarred by the intensity of his expression. “Aedion-“

“It’s not your fault.” His voice is gravely, and his blue eyes flicker like the heart of a flame. “I don’t give a shit what that bastard thought you accepting his invitation meant. You don’t owe him sex because he buys you a drink.”

“Aedion-“ Aelin tries to interrupt again. A new wave of tears burns her eyes, but Aedion is on a roll and he isn’t going to quite down until he gets out what’s on his mind.

“You don’t deserve to be treated like an object that can be bought.” Aelin can’t look him in the eyes any longer, but a calloused hand guides her face to the crook of his neck.

“His friends are shitty. He should have made them shut up. Ogling you, and making you feel unsafe and uncomfortable aren’t funny jokes.” Aedion goes on as Aelin sniffles into his shirt.

“You deserve respect. It doesn’t matter what you are wearing, what he buys you, or what his expectations are. His behavior isn’t your fault.” Aedion whispers against the top of her head.

Aelin wraps the arm that isn’t squished under her, around his waist. “I love you, Brother Wolf.”

“I love you too, Fireheart.” Aedion kisses her forehead and tugs her closer, the old terms of endearment are exchanged between them with ease.

“I know you are still dealing with everything that happened a couple years ago. I’m happy to remind you how worth it you are whenever you need.”

Aedion was an island of safety in the turbulent ocean of her life. Even when Aelin was small, she’d often go to him before her own parents with her problems. He was steady, and calm. The exact opposite of her own personality.

After the incident, he hadn’t rested until she was safely at his side again. Aedion stood by her faithfully as she picked up the broken pieces of her life and held her hand as she tried to make something new from them.

“How come you already had this movie downloaded onto your phone?” Aelin teased lightly, trying to lighten the mood. “Did you suddenly develop a sense of taste?”

Aedion purses his lips. “Lysandra said this movie is, and I quote, the most accurate depiction of the female experience.” He shakes his head. “I’ve tried to watch it three times, and I still can’t figure out what it’s even about.”

“You are a simple minded creature, cousin.” Aelin grabs her spoon and scoops a melty bite of ice cream into her mouth. “Thank you for coming over.”

“Anytime, Lin.” He leans his cheek on her head as the scene on his phone shifts from the cooler grey tones of the present, back to the warm colors that represented better days. “Anytime.”

~~~

The day started off better than she expected.

Aedion was gone when she woke up- he had to rise at an ungodly hour to make it to the fire station on time.

Yet, he set her alarm clock for her so Aelin woke up in time to get ready for work. He’d also set a glass of water and an Advil tablet on her bedside table to curb the headache she was sure to have from crying.

Aelin made it out the door with enough time to stop and get coffee on the way. She even splurged and got a chocolate hazelnut Frappuccino with enough sugar to smooth her wounded feelings.

It was going so well, Aelin should have known it was the universe winding up to screw her.

It was only a couple hours before she closed shop when Lorcan Salvaterre stepped through her front door.

“Holy shit, it’s you.” Were the first words from his mouth. His dark eyebrows lifted in surprise. “Rowan is going to flip when I tell him I actually found you.”

“What are you doing here?” Aelin’s slammed a stack of books on the counter.

Lorcan looked pensive. “Rowan said you mentioned owning a book store-“ he drags a hand through his dark hair. “I felt like I ruined his chance with you, so I thought I maybe if I apologized-“

“Let me stop you there,” Aelin didn’t bother looking at him as she labeled books and organized them into stacks. “You didn’t ruin anything, you didn’t help, but he screwed up all by himself.”’

“He realizes that,” Lorcan quickly defends, his voice gruff with irritation. “If I can give him your number I’m sure he will grovel for himself.”

Aelin rolls her eyes and slides another stack to the end of the counter. “You don’t get it.”

“Get what?” She can tell he’s losing his patience with her. Lorcan’s remorse only went so far, apparently.

Aedion’s words from earlier rang in her ears as she repeated them back to the man. “He was overbearing the entire time. Had double standard opinions about my life, and disrespected my boundaries.”

Aelin watched as Lorcan shifted on his feet, itching to say something but obviously refraining. Measuring his words carefully he looked her dead in the eye. “Look. He was just trying to impress you. Rowan doesn’t go out often. Don’t you think you are blowing this a little out of proportion?”

Red. Aelin saw red. Tasted it. Like iron in her mouth. Or maybe that was just the blood from biting her tongue so hard. “I’m working right now. You don’t strike me as extremely literate, but I have to ask for you to either buy something or leave.”

Lorcan glowered at her. “Fine.” He turns to walk out, but Aelin hears him call her a bitch under his breath.

Just then, Elide walks inside the shop doors. A backpack slung over her shoulder, finished with her classes at Rifthold U and prepared to work the evening shift with her.

Aelin is relieved for the interruption and about to take full advantage of it, when the small, brown-haired girl catches sight of Lorcan and beams like a rutting lighthouse.

“Lorcan! I didn’t know you were coming into my work, what a surprise.”

Elide. One of her best friends, runs up to the six-two tower of misogynistic cow boys and flings her arms around him. Hugs him.

Ellie she recalls the name being thrown out last night. She hadn’t put two and two together. Ellie was a common name. Of all the people in this city it had to be Elide, Aelin mentally bemoans.

She wonders if Elide knew how her cowboy behaved when she wasn’t around.

It doesn’t matter. Lorcan is all too aware of Aelin’s eyes boring into his skin, and knows he needs to make a quick get away.

“Ellie,” Lorcan pulls away from her. “I just had to see this book shop you are always talking about.”

He kisses her head, and looks at her with feigned remorsefulness. “I must have gotten your shifts mixed up in my head, though. I’m afraid I have to go. We booked a training time for six and I need to brush down Nettie before we start.”

“Oh,” Elide says, a look of genuine disappointment on her face. “That’s fine. Are we still on for a movie tomorrow?”

“Wouldn’t miss it,” he promises. He pecks her one more time on the lips and tips his chin towards Aelin. Anger still bubbling in his eyes. “Good day, ma’am.”

Aelin releases a breath when the doors close behind him.

“I’m so sad I missed him.” Elide frowns, tossing her back pack behind the counter. “At least you got to meet him. What did you think? He’s absolutely dreamy, right?”

Aelin chokes back a gag. “Yeah. He was really charming.”

“And get this,” Elide smiles. “He’s a cowboy. Like an actual, real life cowboy. He rides pulls and does team roping. It’s sexy.”

Aelin can’t hide the grimace this time. “You are like my baby sister. I never want to hear the words sexy from your mouth again.”

At least, never in the context of Lorcan. They’d had plenty of boy talk before.

“He even carries a rope.” Elide wags an eyebrow. “Better to tie me up when we-“

Aelin holds a book over her face. “I’m not listening to this! I will file a report with HR.”

Elide laughs. “You are the boss, Lin. You know we don’t have an HR.”

“I need to get one now,” Aelin grumbles. “I don’t need an image of yours and Lorcan’s naked asses in my head.”

She wanted Lorcan out of her head entirely. Along with Rowan and the rest of their cadre.

“Fine,” Elide sighs wistfully. “One day you will be in love and I won’t hold it against you when you want to talk about whatever babe you wind up with.”

Her eyes get a mischievous glint. “Actually- Lorcan has some really cute friends. I could set you up with?”

Aelin’s brain banks. “No. No thank you. I like being alone. I’m more than enough company for myself.”

“Come on, a double date would be fun!” Elide whines and tugs on her arm. “You never go out any more. We could have a great night out.”

An image of the twins cutting lines on the bar flash across her mind and make her shudder.

“I said no, Elide.” Aelin says a bit more harshly then she intends, but Elide gets the point and backs off.

“Sorry. I won’t mention it again.” Instead of anger she looks at Aelin worriedly.

She kind of hates that more.

“Thanks.” She shakes her head and tries to clear the residual stress from her head. “I have to set up a new shelf display. Want to help?”

Elide lights back up at the prospect. She loved designing and organizing. They have a great time setting displays up together and Aelin knew it would take her mind away from the tension she’d created.

She just really hoped that Elide dating Lorcan wouldn’t drag any drama into her own life. Aelin didn’t care what half asses excuses Lorcan made, she wasn’t interested in seeing Rowan again.

Hello! I’m so glad I got this posted today. 😂 I’m hoping to get the next chapter of DRNS out tomorrow. After that, my birthday is next Tuesday and I reaaallly want to do a mass update of all my fics then as a hooray to 21. (Yes. That is what I’m doing for my 21st 🤣) Hope you enjoyed it!

Tag List- (Let me know if you would like to be removed or added!)

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[fandomdaydreamer]

The Lighthouse and The Ocean

Pt 8

You Love Me

Pairing: Pedro Pascal/OFC

Warnings: mature content

Summary: Just two friends battling a hangover and trying to make sense of their last encounter. Their very unsubtle feelings for each other will make it impossibly harder for them to try and make their sex scene less weird.

Notes: Also find this fic on Ao3 -here- or the series' Masterlist -here-

Hiii, I know this chapter is late af, forgive me. The four main reasons are my finals, my job, plotholes and.. a fucking flood?? I also feel guilty about the tease (again) but when I said slow burn... I meant slow burn, ehehehe!

Length: 9.2k

~

You Love Me

Two painkillers hit the bottom of my glass and fizzled up into the water. The birds outside were chirping a beautiful melody I couldn't even appreciate. I was disorientated and an utter mess, dropping back on top of the sheets in nothing but my underwear.

The first signs of an upcoming heatwave made me anticipate that everything would soon become twice as uncomfortable. I groaned and folded my pillow over my ears and eyes. It was too loud... everything was too loud, too bright, too unreal.

My phone's alarm went off and I scrambled up to look at the clock. "Kut!" I cursed and almost fell off my bed to find my laptop. I knocked over my guitar and the noise almost burst my head. Focus, I told myself. I would miss my skype call with Tom in the next two minutes if I wouldn't get online right fucking now.

I turned on my old, noisy laptop, threw on a t-shirt and combed my hair with my free hand to make myself the least bit presentable. My quick movements made me dizzy and sick.

The skype chime rang and I hit the receive button to see a sweet baby faced and friend shaped man appear on the screen. His smile and waving hand dropped instantly when he took one good look at me. "Hey happy late birthday, Nin- Oh dear, you look like absolute shit." he laughed at my crappy appearance.

I whined with my hand clutched onto that abominable headache behind my eye, he leaned in closer to the camera. "Are you alright?"

I couldn't really smile at my best friend, even though I was happy to see him. "Agony." I dramatized.

"Well, sounds like a perfect birthday hangover."

I was horrified about what I saw in my own window on the screen and I wiped my thumb under my eyes to get rid of the remaining mascara. "I suppose it is."

I changed into a delighted singsong, sounding like an overexcited child. "You wouldn't believe it, Tom. I thought I was about to have the most miserable, sad one-woman birthday party far away from home but then Pedro and the others threw a surprise party for me!"

He beamed. "No way!"

"We danced and talked until early in the morning and we got so pissed. Booze. 'Massive' amounts of booze." I accentuated my words by exaggerating the amount of alcohol we had consumed by spreading my arms wide apart. After Tom's laugh ebbed away, I dropped my hands back into my lap. I felt like my thoughts only caught up with me a second later and I felt like I had forgotten something important. "Actually, I think I might still be drunk."

"I'm sorry I couldn't be there." "Yeah, you could experience this hangover with me. Thank you for the new laptop by the way. You're amazing." I grabbed the package that had been delivered to me yesterday morning and held it in front of the webcam. It contained a brand-new laptop from Tom. How considerate of him.

"You're welcome, remember not to download anything before you haven't installed an antivirus first." He joked, recalling our last movie night.

"I know." I leaned over to grab the glass of water on my nightstand and slowly drank the remedy, ignoring the bitter taste of painkillers, which was still a million times better than whatever other taste I had left in my mouth. I wanted to return the glass but the cute photograph of Pedro and me on my nightstand stopped me in my motion. Why did it startle me so much?

"Are you sure you can work today after that legendary night?" Tom asked, connection slightly lagging.

I slowly turned back to my laptop. "I don't know, love. I used to handle the mornings after better. I guess I'm getting older." I managed to both frown and smile. Why did I have this lingering feeling of uneasiness? It was like I was missing a part of my memory but I couldn't put my finger on it.

My gaze drifted over to the vase with the beautiful pink rose Pedro had given me yesterday morning along with my present. A nagging feeling of dread began to slowly catch up with me like my brain was slowly trying to put two and two together.

I mentally counted yesterday's events. There had been this wonderful morning when Pedro had gifted me this rose and the most adorable picture frame ever... my anxiety during the day, thinking it all went to shit and then the lovely birthday party, eating, dancing, drinking, playing the guitar... absurd chatter concerning a deal with Third Man Records... something else had happened. I didn't even remember how I got into bed. I remembered laughing with Pedro but it was all a hazy dream.

"Nin?" "Huh, what?" I snapped back into reality.

Tom was eying me in suspicion. "Are you even listening?" he asked. "Yeah, totally." I lied.

"No, you were miles away. What did I just say?" He quizzed me, leaning closer to the webcam.

"Something about work?" I guessed wrongly.

"What happened?"

I was trying to figure that out myself. A fleeting image of Pedro’s face up close to mine crossed my mind and I recalled his hands exploring my skin, the heat between our bodies and tangled limbs... WAIT, WHAT? My head snapped back towards my door and a hand flew up to my mouth. "Oh, no!" I squeaked as it violently came rushing back to me.

"What? What is it?" Tom yelled.

I could only repeat my previous exclamation, over and over. Embarrassment about what happened last night seeped into the deepest pit of my soul. I couldn't believe my dazed memories but they were most definitely not lying. I folded my body and crumbled under the realisation of what had occurred between the hallway and my bed.

Tom urged me to say something. "Nin? You're scaring me."

I dry heaved and forced myself to calm down. "I'm sorry!" I tried to excuse my actions without giving Tom any context yet. "Oh, I... I was really drunk."

"Yes, yes, I know that." "I wish I had either drunken less or significantly more because my current situation is not ideal." "Why, what did you do?"

"You whAT?" Tom yelled, flabbergasted. There was a rumble and something tipped over on his desk. It was like he tried to stabilise his body by gripping the edges.

Memories of heated kisses invaded my mind. I sought out the feeling of his lips tracing my neck. His hips had thrust into mine when I dug my fingers into his hair. I had been dying to meet the bulge underneath his denim jeans. I let out a high-pitched sound.

"I just- we uhm..." I stuttered and gestured towards the door. "Pedro and I- we... we were making out. My memory is a bit wonky but I think we almost hooked up, I-"

I would have laughed at his comedic reaction if I hadn't been so mortified. I remained silent until I heard Tom calling out my full name.

"We didn't go any further but- oh my goodness, he has officially ruined every other man for me. Just kissing him was the best feeling in the world." I tipped my head back and let out a sound of frustration.

"Wait, he kissed you back? Nin?"

My eyes remained closed as I lolled my head down again. "He's such a good kisser. I can't stop thinking about his-" I wet my lips, not giving a damn about how I kept dumping unwanted intimate details on Tom. "Strong grip and dominance. I fucking knew he had this in him! Did I beg at one point? I-"

Tom interrupted me with a sour expression on his face. "That's it, you belong in horny-jail."

"And I should get a life sentence too because the way I threw myself at him was embarrassing. He was so sweet yesterday, making me feel so special and we've been such good friends and what if I have ruined that now? I have to go down for breakfast in a minute and I think I'd rather let someone take me out, right now. Just-" I mimed blowing my brains out.

Tom sighed deeply. "Darling, it sounds like you're falling in-"

"Don't say it."

"I'm gonna say it." I hid behind my hands and peeked at him like he was about to rip off a band-aid. "-falling in love. Accept it. Frankly, I saw it coming."

His words struck a chord in me. It was true. "I am. I am utterly and completely in love with him. Oh, Tom, what am I gonna do?" I sobbed, really not knowing what to do with myself.

"Well, don't look at me like I got answers. I'm sure you'll figure something out. Sounds like you got to take care of-" he pointed his finger up and down at me through the screen and cackled. "that... first."

I glared at him. "Rotjoch."

"Gesundheit." There was a sudden racket on Tom's end and he got distracted by a noise in his room. He stood up from his chair and revealed that he was not wearing any trousers. "Hey, sod off, I'm on a bloody skype call!" Somebody was yelling out a rude reply.

I leaned over like I could spot the person who had entered Tom's room, probably his little brother. "Was that Henry?" I inquired.

He leaned back over the webcam. "Yeah, I think he needs help or something. Call you next week?"

"Yea, I think I'll-" the connection broke and I was left with a blue screen. I dropped my shoulders, posture deflating. "-need it."

"Say hi to your family for me." "I will."

"See you, Tom!" "Don't do anything I wouldn't do. Good luck."

One step at a time. First, I really needed to pee, take a shower and put on some clean clothes. Then I'd worry about Pedro.

~~~

When I came down for breakfast, looking more like myself and less like a swamp monster, I glanced around the corner into the communal area. They were sitting at a table inside to escape the scorching morning light.

I let out a sigh of relief when I realised the gang was missing the presence of one particular member I wasn't keen on facing so soon. I relaxed and left my hiding spot. My hand was still clutched onto my forehead in a hopeless attempt to stop the throbbing pain.

Two third of them were wearing sunglasses and the rest was still missing. The look wasn't anything unusual for Jim but he was oddly quiet behind his mug of coffee. "My boys." I greeted them.

"Speaking of the devil." Old tomcat Waits was his usual self. Either the alcohol didn't have a lasting effect on him or he didn't have as much to drink. "We were just talking about how nobody should mix tequila and beer, ain't that right, Chiwetel?" he teased him.

"Beer before liquor, never been sicker," the Brit replied in a tired voice.

I sat next to Bill and decided not to comment as I watched him crack one raw egg after the other out of a full carton and into a glass of milk. I shared a concerned look with Chiwetel, whose dark skin seemed a bit grey this morning. He moved slowly and grabbed a carafe with orange juice.

He poured a second glass and shoved it over to me. "Have some vitamins, dear. You need it," he said lowly, pushing his shades back onto his nose.

"Thank you." I sniffed at the drink and felt a sharp smell stinging my nose. "That's... not orange juice." I noticed with hoarse breath and coughed.

"Ayurvedic bullshit." Bill snapped, movements thrice as quick as anything I could comprehend. He shook some kind of salty smelling dark liquid into his own hangover cure and stirred it with a spoon. It turned a greenish-grey colour and I almost gagged.

The corners of Chiwetel's mouth turned downwards in disgust. "How can you drink that, you daft old man?" he asked Bill like he was out of his mind.

"You get my age and see how good you can handle a hangover without this stuff." Bill pinched his nose and gulped down half of his tall glass. Chiwetel, Jim and I watched in horror. Tom laughed.

"Excuse me, what exactly is this?" I asked Chiwetel, pointing a finger down at my drink.

He raised his own oddly coloured, spicy juice while Bill recovered. A chill went down the older man's spine and he jerked his head, shaking his entire face.

Chiwetel continued. "That, my dear girl, is orange juice with ginger, lemon, cayenne pepper and curcuma. Now that works wonders- Oh hello, Pedro. Good morning." he got distracted.

I knitted my eyes shut at Chiwetel's words. A familiar presence approached our table and I took notice of his heavier than normal motions behind me. Pedro was pulling out a chair and sat down right next to me with a deeply tortured groan. I didn't look. I couldn't.

"Mornin'." he rasped out. "I don't think Tilda is going to make it down anytime soon. Can't even blame her."

Jim slowly massaged his temples. "I guess that means we can't shoot today. But... I thought maybe we should take it slow anyway. As fortune has it, some kind of critter has chewed through the pool hydraulics and it doesn't pump any water. We will have to have it fixed." he sat his mug down and sighed. "There's always something. No pool scene for a couple of days, at least."

"Oh," I exclaimed, sounding too pleased. The others looked at me. "-I mean..." I changed my tone of 'oh' to a sad one and quickly gulped my orange juice. It burned my throat and I felt like I was able to breathe fire. My spine straightened, suddenly I was wide awake. "Bloody hell, and she's back, hello!" "Told you."

I couldn't handle spicy things very well but I already felt better after the second sip. It gave me something to focus on.

"I'll have what she's having," Pedro said in awe and Chiwetel poured him the remaining juice.

Jim continued like he hadn't heard us. "-Which also means that we're going to switch the scene schedule and shoot the sex scene-" I choked on my drink, slowing Jim down in his announcement. "-between Raguel... and Starling this instead of next week."

I coughed a few times, swallowing harshly. Pedro gently clapped on my back in an attempt to help me use my windpipe. When I finally looked at him for the first time after last night, I saw a mixture of bemusement and mild concern on his face. He was in quite a rough shape himself, hair a mess and dark shadows under his eyes. He was probably not done using pain pills just like me.

"Spicy." I rasped out, trying to put it on my drink. "Sure," he was unconvinced and sipped his juice like it contained only oranges. He knew me well enough that my eyes silently begged him to kindly fuck off.

Jim continued. "The change of schedule won't interfere with our due date. If you two are up for it."

To be honest, everything but the pool scene. I took a deep breath to make sure I was able to speak again. "Yeah, of course." I agreed in a professional business tone.

Pedro cleared his throat and leaned forward to let his elbows rest on the table. "When?" he asked.

"Friday. We all feel a bit... under the weather. I might just find a cool, dark place somewhere and make adjustments to the camera instructions."

"Yeah, it's really hot already. I think I might hit the hotel pool." Pedro announced. "Anyone care to join?" he looked at me after he had stood up from his chair. How gladly I would have taken him up on his offer but there was this issue with me and chlorine, which he didn't know about.

I stammered, looking back and forth between his face and extended hand. "I, uh..." When I tugged my hands under my armpits in a protective manner, he dropped his arm, slight confusion and maybe a little bit of disappointment evident on his face.

"I will!" Chiwetel threw in and stood up.

I gave Pedro an apologetic smile as both got ready to head outside. "I think I'm good, thank you," I replied in as much of a light tone as I could muster.

A smile tugged at his lips. "Ok. Well... see you around then." He looked like he wanted to say something else, mouth opening and closing and hand flying to the back of his head, ruffling his chocolate curls. When he turned and left down the hallway, without grabbing a single bite to eat, I was left wondering if I had hurt his feelings.

I couldn't read Tom's face but something told me he was the kind of empath who immediately knew what was going on. Before I stood up myself, I downed my glass and without another word, I left towards the empty hallway, wondering what I'd do with my day off. I decided I could maybe head towards the library but when I turned around the corner, I almost ran into a broad chest.

Pedro leaned against the wall in an expectant manner. I gave him a half-hearted smile and turned to find another hiding spot. "You're avoiding me," he called after me.

Instead of running away, I faced him with a clueless expression. "No, I'm not. I have no idea what you mean."

Pedro raised his hands, signalling he didn't mean any harm but he soon relaxed and let his arm lean above him while the other rested on his hip. He was somehow towering over me without being threatening. "Yes, you have. You're mad at me." he insisted, tilting his head with a slight pout.

I cooed, saddened by the fact that he honestly thought I held some kind of grudge against him. "No. Oh, lieverd." I used the endearment, slightly squeezing his arm. "I'm just... awkward and hungover and... embarrassed. And I expect that won't go away for a bit, not after the way I behaved last night. I don't know what to do." There. I had said it.

Pedro’s pout twisted into a wicked smile. Oh, no. I knew that face. "Well, I can think of one or two things." he mused.

I raised my eyebrows. "Oh, do you now? Me too, you know."

He was almost irresistible with his hooded eyes and the slight flex in his jaw. "Entonces pregúntame, nena. If there's anything I can do to help then all you gotta do is ask."

I didn't know how obviously I was struggling to keep in a moan. Luckily, I managed to swallow it and act like he didn't know how to turn me on in an instant. He was giving me a hard time when he was eye-fucking me like that. "I got a better idea. How about you just leave me alone?" I suggested with feigned bitchiness instead. I proudly crossed my arms and began to turn away from him.

Pedro managed to keep me with him by capturing my chin with his finger and thumb, grinning like a smug devil and making it clear to me he wouldn't let me off the hook that easily. "But that's not what you wanted me to do last night, am I right?" he murmured. I could only hold my breath and try to focus on something else other than my fleeting heartbeat underneath his fingertips or the throbbing in my lower regions.

Ok, that was it. I swatted his hand away, whispering inches away from his lips and I looked up into his mischievously glinting eyes as I spoke. "You're a terrible, terrible person and I want you to know that." I pressed out. He laughed lowly. "Oh, no, you love me."

I raised my voice in disbelief at this bold assumption. "Love you?"

"You love me and you just won't admit it." he bickered with me, back and forth. How dared he rub in the truth? I wanted to leave again but he caught my hand and made me spin around back at him just like our dance the night before. The look on my face made his shoulders shake with laughter. "Don't worry, I'm just messing with you."

My mouth had become a desert nevertheless. "You, sir, can suck it forever!" I hissed and grinned as I twisted my body out of his arms, betraying that I still adored him no matter what a cocky bastard he had become all of sudden.

"I'll think about it," Pedro replied before I was about to leave him behind.

Oh, I couldn't let him have the last word, could I? I took brisk steps back towards him. "You! You..." I lowered my voice again, making sure nobody would be able to hear us. It was my turn to back him up against the wall with a slight shove of my finger. "Let me remind you that it was 'you' who decided to leave me all alone last night. You have no right to be so... so..."

The corners of his lips curled up in amusement. "So... what? Tell me."

"Infuriating! You drive me crazy, Pascal. I am still mortified about the way I behaved, ok? I am enormously sexually frustrated. I wish..." I couldn't say what I really wished for. I wished he hadn't left. I wished I could someday wake up in his arms the way it had been denied from me this morning.

For the first time, Pedro seemed serious. "Call me old fashioned but I don't think one shouldn't take advantage of a drunk woman. No matter how tempting she is."

I hummed impatiently, secretly knowing that he was right and I would most likely not have remembered it if we had ended up shagging. "Always the gentleman. I suppose I should thank you but I won't. Not after that cruel exit you made."

I would have been able to cut the atmosphere between us with a knife and I felt his gaze prickling my skin. Now that we both had confirmed that we wanted each other, everything we said and did only emphasised that we were due. It was like a ticking clock hung above our heads that counted down every second until we would eventually end up in bed together. I would have to decide if I wanted to save our friendship and return to the way we used to be or dive headfirst into... whatever this foreplay was.

Pedro’s fingers brushed mine and I wouldn't dream of pulling away now. "Too bad, I suppose you won't let me make it up to you." he guessed, head tilting like he was trying to find the best angle to kiss me. His deep voice and the sheer proximity was maddening.

I let go of my lip when I realised, I had been biting it sore. "Certainly not. It's my turn to leave you high and dry." I pulled away from him and he pouted again. If this had been a game of chess, my move would have been checkmate.

He smiled like a good looser as we parted ways. "Fair enough," he said.

"See you at dinner?" I tried a compromise in a chipper tone and we grinned at each other as if nothing happened. It was nothing special, we dined together almost every night.

"Count me in." Pedro was already out the door when he threw a wink back at me. He stepped out into the sunlight and put on his sunglasses.

It took me several seconds to recover. When I was sure he was gone, I let out a shuddering breath before I was able to collect my thoughts and remember what my original destination used to be. I needed a distraction and some solitude.

Time passed and the day only became hotter. I had been engrossed in my crime novel when I heard a noise coming from the garden. I stood to investigate when I heard Pedro’s familiar laugh.

I approached the window with my book tugged beneath my arm, a fond smile playing on my lips when I took in the scene before me. I chuckled to myself at the sight of Pedro in a t-shirt and swim trunks as he played with the hotel owner's two small children in the shade. The little girl and her older brother were kicking a football across the grass and they were giggling and squealing as they fought over the ball. Pedro played the defeated adult after he had captured the ball and he let the kids climb his back like a mountain. They had forced him to the ground and buried him under their small bodies.

Just when I thought I couldn't possibly fall any harder for that man, I was proven wrong again. I couldn't understand what he was saying to them in Spanish but he seemed to have given up. He raised his hand and groaned out a sound of fake misery. The children adored him for it.

"He's quite something, isn't he?" A smooth voice beside me commented and I jumped. Tilda stood beside me, looking out the window herself towards Pedro and the children. The taller woman, who I thought had been upstairs in her room with a terrible hangover was sipping on a cappuccino, steady gaze fixed onto them playing together. She was equally delighted at the trio and I looked back to see that Pedro was kneeling in front of the little girl. He put the ball down on the grass and encouraged her to kick it.

He was unaware of our observation. Pedro cheered when she kicked the ball. "I had no idea he was so good with children," I replied with a hint of a happy sparkle in my voice.

He had picked up the giggling toddler and pretended to snap his teeth at the chubby little hand she pat him across his face with, nearly poking out an eye.

"Look at them," Tilda said in amusement and I was startled again, sorry that I almost hadn't heard her above the sound of my exploding overies. "He likes you very much, you know."

"Yeah, me too," I replied quietly, almost choking on my words. Pedro ruffled the boy's hair with one hand as he carried the little dark-haired girl on his other arm. Their mother looked up from her rose bushes to meet them halfway with a winning smile.

I already knew he was a wonderful person and I was sure he would have been a great father too. I was saddened by the fact that the child who would have been absolutely spoiled with his love didn't exist. The realisation clouded my mind a little. I hadn't really thought about being a parent myself since the man in my last relationship already had four children and before that, being a mother just never occurred to me- but now? Pedro was everything a good man ought to be. I was surprised to find myself considering a domestic life all of sudden... with Pedro. A warm feeling spread from my heart through my whole body. Maybe... one day.

~~~

I spent the time before the shoot mostly in denial until the very moment I was presented with my costumes. The first was a nice white dress and the second... well... fitted into the palm of my hand. I suddenly became hyperaware of the fact that I would be practically naked in front of Pedro.

I distracted myself by memorising the tiny scribbled notes I had written next to my lines. It was a method I always used to create little impressions and help me picture my characters' inner turmoils better.

*The angel runs over my dead-end feelings*, it read.

I stored my script away and stepped onto the tiny green 'x' that marked my initial position. Pedro stood on the yellow cross.

"And... ACTION."

Raguel's hair was still tousled by the desert wind when he had come to visit Starling in her room. We picked up the scene where we left it. His eyes were full of sorrow as he eventually told me the truth. "You were killed, Starling. This is the afterlife. Or at least... a trial."

I smiled for a second, convincing the camera that I thought this was just a poor joke. I continued to collect my stuff around the room. "What are you saying? I'm going home tomorrow." I stopped packing when I noticed he was staring at me. My smile faltered as I tried to understand what this was about. "Raguel?"

He replied slowly, choosing his words carefully, in his always poetic way of speaking. "You set out on your journey back home, runaway girl, with regret weighing on your mind but there's no baggage to tow anymore and no trail ahead of you. You will never return."

It slowly started to dawn on me that he wasn't lying. "Killed?" I repeated weakly and then I seemed to remember. My eyes drifted into nothingness as I recalled the past. "That man..." It was true.

He nodded sternly.

Panic started to crawl under my skin. "-I just woke up in this bus that brought me here. What will my family do? My... father. Oh, why did I go? Why did I go?"

"I'm sorry." "Who are you?" "I'm an angel."

"Yes, I suppose you are." I made a face like it all made sense, trying to protect myself with a final but failed attempt of irony behind my veil of tears. "If I'm dead then why does this feel so real?" I almost asked aggressively. Starling recalled the darkest place she had ever been. There, deeper, all the way deeper where she refused to look, there was a light.

The angel stepped closer. "You are. Still real. You are the quintessence of the things left undone, unsaid, not lived, not loved. Only deep regret leads people to Azazel. She judges who is fit to follow the dark path."

"So there is a destination meant for me after all." I choked out a bitter laugh.

Raguel seized my arms. "I waited for you to make a decision, to do something. I waited for you and I burned in return. I didn't expect you to be... so lovely. I want..." He reached out to touch the warmth of my skin. "I want... to disobey. These times I learn I'm tortured." "Angels don't talk like that," I whispered.

"They also shouldn't feel the way I do." "What do you want from me? Smuggle me into your heaven? Don't make me laugh." My voice was laced with bitterness and deep sorrow. I cracked. "It's too late to fix me and rewind the damage I've done. You have to give me up."

In his own, intensely gloomy way, he became nearly desperate. "I can't."

Now stronger than ever, Starling felt like a stranger with a name she couldn't remember. "I don't even know what I am to you," I said, hugging my arms around me.

He gently connected his forehead with mine, closing his eyes, he tore my last protective wall down. "You are... my obstacle, my blessing, an ever-lasting memory that summons my thoughts towards my infatuation. Knowing that I can't save you tears me apart."

A tear rolled down my cheek. "But you already have." I sobbed, grieving that I had found love without a future. "How can I mourn the loss of heaven when you are right here?"

His thumb gently traced my cheek to wipe my tears away and the expression in his eyes send warmth through my entire body. "How can they not see how beautiful the light inside of you is?" Raguel said as he stared into my soul and the cameras didn't see me breaking character, for his words had melted the real me right then and there.

Pedro looked at me through his eyelashes, love and adoration so magically real. Why did I keep falling into his eyes? I snapped back into my role and only Pedro himself could have seen the subtle change.

For the first time, Starling felt home when he kissed her. I felt a familiar pull in my stomach at the sensation of his lips on mine, moving slowly and sweetly. It was easy to forget the cameras when I closed my eyes and poured my entire love for Pedro into the kiss.

My head was spinning when he stopped to look at me but I had a job to do.

No words were spoken as my fingers dove under the shoulders of his leather jacket to pry it off. His eyes never left mine and calmed my grief about my lost life. I stood to watch his reaction and when he didn't push me away, my hand travelled to the first button of his shirt. His eyes never left mine as he let me undress him.

Starling was vulnerable, her bravery leaving her the moment Raguel slipped his finger under the strap of her dress and let it fall off her shoulder. A tear spilt onto my chest and I sealed my sob by kissing him like there was no tomorrow. I put all my yearning for a real connection into the contact as he pulled me impossibly closer. Soon his black button-down had followed onto the floor and Raguel only momentarily separated from me to pull my dress over my head and attack my lips with more eagerness. He lifted me so I could wrap my legs around his hips as he carried me towards the bed, where he crawled on top of me. We surrendered.

"CUT!"

Maybe it was the nerves but Pedro and I both started giggling at each other.

I tilted my head despite the limited space for me between his forearms. "Was that ok? I didn't hurt your back, did I?" I asked, distracting us from our half undressed state.

Pedro shook his head. "No, don't worry. I did stretch before this." He was still looking down at me but eventually shifted into a new position, arm supporting his weight next to my body. I ran my hand through his hair tenderly. I would have loved to imprint his soft smile into my brain forever.

"Then let's do it again."

Eventually, Jim was content with the build-up and we moved on to the third and final part of the scene. Pedro and I were both in bathrobes, hiding our state of undress from the skeleton crew and ourselves. There were only a couple of essential people including him, me and well... the sex scene choreographer. Betty was a sweet person but with all these people present, it never wasn't weird.

It wasn't like I hadn't done this before. Sex scenes were part of the job and just like any other scene so why was this so awkward and hard and so... exciting? The latter, I had never experienced before under these circumstances.

I wished we wouldn't have to do this.

I wished we would do this in real life. Alone. I had wanted Pedro so bad, especially these past few days that I felt the need to slam my fist against the wall or sink my teeth into a pillow and scream. I had long lost count of the many curses I had repeated in my mind while I was crouching on the floor and petting Besos, the set-cat.

Pedro made jokes, he made me laugh and part of me knew he was only being this goofy to calm my nerves and make me more comfortable. He had turned his back to me and flashed Besos.

The cat looked up at his open bathrobe and yawned, which made me laugh so hard they had to reapply my makeup.

"Somebody get the cat out of here," Jim ordered in a bored voice while checking the camera angle and Pedro chimed in. "Yeah, this isn't a fucking peep show, Besos. Vete!" we chuckled at the cat, who skedaddled away.

Betty stepped in. "It usually helps to just hang out naked for a while, but you already know that, right?" I noticed the other crew members left the set to give us some privacy. "This too." she offered us a tray of shot glasses with a clear liquid.

"Ah, no thanks," I said and Pedro shook his head as well, gesturing for her to take them away.

"Ok." I jumped up and down like I was getting ready for a box fight. "Ready?" I stood in front of Pedro, gripping my bathrobe around the edges. He grinned and raised his shoulders. "Ready when you are."

"Three- two-" I counted backwards, and after we both said 'one' we dropped the robes, revealing our nudity.

I got rid of the bathrobe to reveal... well... almost everything. I was only wearing a tiny nude vag-pad and I couldn't help but cross my arms in front of my chest. Pedro on the other hand was looking into my eyes and eyes only. But Betty gave me an encouraging look and I dropped my arms.

I let out a huff of breath. "No big deal. Boobs, whatever." I gestured to invite him to take a look at me, so he glanced down and I was relieved at how chill he seemed to be.

He on the other hand wore something they called a modesty pouch which male actors used to cover their... crown jewels with. Otherwise, he was just as exposed. When I stole a glance, I barely managed to not widen my eyes. He surely was 'packing' underneath that horrid piece of cloth.

We both started laughing awkwardly.

Jim stepped in, blessing us with a distraction. "Hey, are we feeling cool about this? Betty, wouldn't you agree that we should slightly cover them with a thin sheet when they're on the bed? I want to reveal more by showing less."

"Yes, please lie down, you two. I wanna see your arms around him, mainly his shoulder and head area and you Pedro, just worship her like your life depends on it." Betty ordered. She continued to run us through every movement in a way that was about as sexy as following a road map.

I hopped onto the bed, ruffling through my open hair like Betty instructed and making room for Pedro. Before we could be tucked and torn into the right position, I pushed him back into the pillows one last time while I was still being myself. He looked surprised at my initiative but didn't seem like he was able to comment. I stared down at him, hoping he would catch the amused twinkle in my eyes. For a moment, we were hidden from the world by the curtain of my hair.

"This one isn't for the cameras," I told him before I gave him a chaste kiss. His lips were left pursed when I lifted myself off him after I had lingered for a second longer to keep staring into those lovely dark eyes.

"Look at you. I think we're done being nervous about this, aren't we?" he noticed with a smirk. Pedro regained control by flipping us around, making me squeal when he accidentally tickled my sides. His eyes widened. "You're ticklish." he noticed for the first time. "No?" I lied. Too late.

I automatically tried to defend myself but he was squeezing my sides again. He elicited another high shriek from me and chuckled at my newly discovered weakness.

"Pedr- Please, n- no!" I was a giggling mess. It felt like he was wrestling me around until he had finally trapped me underneath his body. Both his hands were pinning mine down into the mattress, right beside my head. He was much stronger than me and therefore, my chances of struggling free were limited. But it also meant he couldn't continue tickling me. I recovered slowly, laughter still rolling off the both of us and I realised I had never in my life felt more comfortable with a scene partner. Pedro freed me before I could start enjoying our position in a whole different way.

Betty chimed in from somewhere behind the cameras. "You ready?"

I tried to block out the cameras following us, already filming by now. "Yeah!"

"Do you wanna go for a beer and cheeseburgers when we're done... dry humping?" Pedro asked innocently as he positioned himself between my legs.

"Absolutely," I answered and he gave me a radiant smile. My hand was a fleeting motion across his smooth, toned chest, curiosity getting the better of me and I stole a glance down his happy trail, seeing his hip resting against mine in a harmless position. Betty was draping the thin white bed sheet over my legs which I used to wrap myself around him until our lower halves were covered.

"Scene 45, take one." someone said. The clapperboard shut and Jim announced. "Action."

The mood shifted in an instant as Pedro transformed into an angel desperate for the girl lying underneath him. He planted longing kisses on my breasts while grazing the soft skin with his thumb.

Of course, I was aware of the team, the cameras and the lighting but I couldn't help myself; every single one of his kisses felt like he was jump-starting my heart. The instructed gasp came naturally to me when he brushed against my nipple but he didn't give me a moment to breathe before he pressed his mouth onto mine. Skilled fingers kneading, first at my torso, then my hips, my ass and eventually inner thigh.

How on earth could this not be real? His lips were moving so sinfully over mine, tongue diving into my mouth, teeth nipping at my bottom lip and sucking. I would soon call myself addicted to the feeling of his moustache tickling at my skin and I sighed, delirious from the sensation of his hand lifting my knee higher.

I needed to focus on our characters and recite my own notes in my head.

- He is a man poisoned by love, his look of steel, elusive. Under that moody and rough exterior, lies a gentle lover able to worship every inch of my body and soul as he runs over my dead-end feelings.

Dear God, I hoped my little pad was reliable enough to hide the growing clamminess I was unable to control. Even with the cameras, just Pedro touching me was more than my body could handle without risking my urgent need to give in to my primal instincts.

He smelled a million times better than any perfume or other scent in the entire world. He tasted better than anything my tongue had ever experienced. His kiss was searing hot and so close to the real Pedro. This was exactly the way he had kissed me on the night after my birthday. His tongue was probing mine, showing me I would never crave another man's kiss ever again.

His hips ground forward and- oh.

Feeling his hardened cock underneath the bundle of cloth against my thigh made me buck my hips upwards into him involuntarily and I met his covered length with the heat between my legs.

Raguel... Pedro groaned against my lips. We couldn't do this over stimulation but he had to raise his body a little higher, this time... and I emitted a short moan as we acted out the intrusion.

We were limbs, wet kisses, stolen friction, heat and arousal and I tried to fool myself into thinking that I was just really being my character. It was all too much and it wasn't even real. If this fake intimacy was this intense, how would the real Pedro act, I asked myself.

The sheet slowly flowed off our bodies, revealing more and more of our pretended connection while he moved his hips in a steady rhythm. It was then that Pedro lightened up the mood by humming a melody I recognised. He was singing a Fleetwood Mac song while he was humping me and I messed up the take by breaking into laughter. We had to stop filming.

Pedro immediately rolled off of me and hid a shy smile behind his hand. He rolled his eyes in annoyance with himself, covering his crotch with the sheet. "I'm so sorry about that. That's unprofessional." he excused his erection. Betty approached and sprayed us with more fake sweat.

Poor man, I thought. "Hey, have I told you the story about the day I found my grandpa's dentures in my yoghurt?" "What?" Pedro got startled by the mood swing and he looked at me like I had grown a second head. He soon began to wheeze and triggered my piggy laugh with it.

After our little break, things got easier and the atmosphere sterilised. I had told him all the gross details, which made Pedro smile at my subtle attempt to turn him off. It worked though and we were soon ready to continue our scene.

I met each and every one of his thrusts with Starling's need to cling to a soul that radiated the warmth of the sun. Raguel seemed to treat every second like there was no time and we had to speed up the truth in one magic rush.

I had to tear my eyes open when he groaned one final time as his very convincing orgasm rippled through his body. He melted into the arms of a fire that was meant to fade out without him. I cradled his neck as he buried his face into my shoulder. Pure bliss and pleasant morphine dreams illuminated my face as I pretended to calm down from the highest possible feeling in the world. Raguel exhaled with a shuddering breath, hips bottoming out like he could still chase another rush of endorphins. I held him like he was the only real thing left in my world and we just lay there panting softly. The largest part of our scene was all about the afterglow and I actually enjoyed doing that.

I felt worshipped by his gaze alone.

The camera was nearly poking into our faces.

"CUT!"

I propped myself up onto my elbows, still panting and looking like I had been properly ravished. I had long stopped caring about our nakedness. I smacked my lips, trying to regain my ability to articulate. "By the way, why 'The Chain'?" I recalled his random musical addition to our scene and we laughed. "Just an attempt to distract myself." he dropped into the pillows and exhaled deeply. Then he chuckled. "Though your story was better."

"Hey, it's alright," I propped my hand under my chin and let my arm rest on his chest. "Stupid human bodies and automatic functions. I told you I was comfortable doing this with you, didn't I? I trust you. You have full permission and I'm not weirded out. Don't worry."

His awkwardness was soon replaced with a growing fondness in his eyes. "Thanks. You know, I've never told you how nice you are."

"Hm, you love me." I parroted his words back at him, earning a genuine smile. I got into a sitting position. "But seriously, you think you're the only one? How do you think I feel? Jesus Christ. All of this for a thirty seconds scene." I would have to excuse myself to go clean up and change my pad.

Jim walked over, interrupting Pedro’s revelation by subtly clearing his throat. "We will need a few more takes to make sure we don't have to come back for a reshoot but you were nearly perfect. Try a little less tongue next time."

"Got it." Pedro and I both said. "Jinx!" We added simultaneously, pointing at the other.

We were up for the next round.

~~~

We hadn't forgotten about our little cheeseburger plan and I was famished by the time our shoot was over. The hotel didn't serve burgers though and I figured we would have to go somewhere else. I anticipated the evening beyond measures when Pedro told me to meet me in the lobby in one hour.

With the sun gone, the temperature dropped to a comfortable level. The night offered a tiny bit of relief from the sweltering heat throughout the day and yet it stayed gloriously warm and clear.

I spotted Pedro waiting by the entrance and he looked twice as I descended the marble stairs in my light and flowy summer dress.

I blushed at the way his jaw had dropped a little. "You look wonderful," he told me and I grinned as I tucked a strand of hair that had escaped my braid behind my ear. "Thank you. You clean up nicely yourself."

"Thanks." Pedro looked down at his attire like he hadn't realised. He had rolled up the sleeves of his deep purple button up and I had to admit that it stretched rather nicely across his chest and biceps.

"I'm curious where you're taking me. I've been wanting to hit the town for a while now. It seems perfect tonight."

The expression on his face though was apologetic. "Well, there's something I got to tell you. Do you want to hear the good news or the bad news first?"

My face fell. "Oh, dear. The bad news is that I have to make a decision first." I joked and made him laugh. "The bad news, please." I cringed as I took the arm, he offered me. We walked in the opposite direction towards the hotel's gardens.

"They won't let us go downtown for safety reasons. You know, high risk of crime, possibly kidnapping, especially after dark. I'm sorry." Pedro said and I let out a tiny 'oh'. If I was being honest, I wasn't surprised and maybe a tiny bit relieved. That did sound logical. After all, Mexico wasn't the safest of all places but the rebel inside of me had thought Pedro had maybe found a way to smuggle us out of here and hunt for cheeseburgers.

But now I didn't know what the plan was. "So... we're not going out?"

"The good news, however-" he led me outside towards the rose garden. Quiet Latin music played somewhere in the near distance and I squinted my eyes to investigate the hidden light source behind the bushes. Pedro lifted a branch and revealed a magical place.

Soft candlelight illuminated the area around a table for two underneath the tree that had been conquered by white roses. The garden had been transformed. Colourful lampions hung above our heads between the branches and I was purely mesmerised and entranced by the sheer beauty of it all. "Pedro..." I began but words failed me. Nobody had ever done something like this for me.

Pedro on the other hand was watching me closely, lights dancing in his dark eyes. "Do you like it?" he asked, awaiting my reaction.

I knew my eyes were sparkling with too much emotion. "I love it. I can't believe you did this."

He pulled out a chair for me. "With a bit of imagination, we could pretend to be in a restaurant somewhere downtown." He suggested. When I was seated, he silently offered to pour me a glass of ice cold cerveza and I nodded, still in a slight daze from the romantic ambience.

"Was this what you meant when you said you wanted to make it up to me?" I asked.

"Maybe," Pedro answered mysteriously as he sat down opposite me.

We lifted our glasses for a toast above the neatly placed dinner table. "Well, it's a bit fancier than I expected but I guess we can get some cheeseburgers another time." I winked at him in good humour, raising the glass to my lips the same time as he did. What did he look so happy about?

The familiar waiter, a young lad I had come to know as Miguel came out of the bushes. He carried a tray topped with one of these fancy silver lids you would normally expect to be presented with in a place like Buckingham Palace. "Oh, what's thi- AH!" I interrupted myself with a sound of astonishment. There were steaming cheeseburgers and chips underneath. "Surprise!" Pedro cheered and laughed at my perplexity.

I could kiss him right now. "You're without question, the most amazing man I've ever met!" I told the delighted man in front of me.

It was a wonderful dinner, just the two of us. We talked and shared stories as we ate and it wasn't the first time that I thought I could spend every night with him, just like this, for the rest of my life.

He chuckled. "I enjoyed myself too. Who knew that working here would feel more like a holiday sometimes?"

It was late in the evening when Pedro escorted me through the garden back towards the villa.

"I had the most wonderful time," I spoke out my thoughts as I walked side by side with him. I leaned against his shoulder as I held onto his arm and he covered my hand with his.

"Certainly, with rendezvous like that. I could get used to it." I snuck my hand into his broad palm and felt butterflies ignite within me when he held it in return.

"I should take you out for dinner more often then." "It was a date, then?" "If you wanted it to be." He gave me the option.

"Yes," I replied as we reached the stairs. I was still holding his hand by the time I felt him tugging me back.

Pedro didn't move further and I turned around, a little confused why had stopped following me. I stepped down again, finally understanding. It wasn’t like my response had killed the mood; it had just made him more cautious, now that we weren't fighting our attraction towards each other anymore.

I didn't need to ask him why he decided to stay, for I knew he wouldn't want to let it seem like he expected to immediately take me up to my room after our first official date... not after the scene we just finished shooting. He was just being considerate and indeed, we were in no rush. I saw by the look on his face that he understood what was going through my head as well. If my impression was correct, we both cared too much for each other for this to be just a brief fling.

He smiled softly when I stayed on the first step of the stairs. Now at eye level with him, I rested my arms on his shoulders. "Thank you for tonight," I said and felt his arms sneaking around my waist to pull me closer.

"My pleasure." he purred. It felt like the right thing to do when I placed a soft kiss on his lips. He returned it for this brief moment that left me with a slight tremble to my hands. It was a short, innocent kiss that only mystified what we were. Our fingers were the last to part before I went upstairs alone.

~

Part 9

Translation notes:

(dut): kut - (eng): cunt

(dut): lieverd - (eng): darling

(dut): rotjoch - (eng): little shit/punk

(ger): gesundheit - (eng): bless you

(sp): entonces pregúntame, nena - (eng): then ask me, baby

(sp): vete - (eng): get out

[step-on-me-khun]

Valentine’s Day

SFW/NSFW

Warnings: Smut

Word Count: 4,339 I hope you’ve all got some patience, it says it’s a 17 min read 

Current Requests: 4

WIPS: 5

Ask Box: Open as always

This is a Khun x Reader lemon which I had planned to write for Valentines Day

-----

The sun shone brightly into your room as you awakened. Turning to your left, you noticed that Khun wasn't beside you. 

You sat yourself up and stretched your arms above your head, eyes scanning around the room for anything that appeared just a little bit off. 

You shuffled the blanket off your legs, swinging them so that you could stand up. 

Looking back at the bed, you noticed a ripped piece of paper had been set on Khun's side, your knees pressed on the bed as you stretched over to grab at it. 

"Look around and you might find something," was all that written on the paper. 

Your head tried imagining places where Khun could hide something from you, not like he could use his lighthouse at a time like this, it would be too cruel. 

Why on earth would he surprise you like this? It was morning and you were not in the mood to scour the room for something that might end up being one of his sick games. 

You shifted yourself off the bed, hand reaching the bedside table, opening the first drawer. 

It looked like he meant what he said on the paper, your eyes concentrating on a box, something that looked like it could easily fit in your hand. You reached your hand over and picked it up, it looked like it was some sort of perfume. He didn't mind spending a lot on you. You would never let him if it was up to you. But he was a persistent bastard who always insisted on it. You closed the drawer and continued to think of places where he could've hidden something. 

Your feet slowly walked around the room, giving you a chance to question everything around you. Walking past the chest of drawers, you notice one of them open a little, your hands pulled on it an exposed what lay inside it, another box. 

This box was a bit smaller than the other one, and there was nothing that gave away what it could be, not writing on it on anything. 

A sudden ping came from your pocket, which distracted you from opening the box. 

"Let me know when you've found everything, then I'll come back to you and we can spend the day together," it was from Khun, he wanted you to find everything yourself without him being there to ruin it all, "and by the way, there are only three things,"

Oh, okay, that was good to know, now you didn't need to feel bad if he had only got you that amount, it would feel a lot weirder if there was a whole lot more than that. 

The pocket vanished and you went back to opening the gift, a necklace lay inside, it was gold, the pendant on it was the shape of a star, there were sparkling clear crystals embedded on the star. It did make you smile, it wasn't over the top, but it was enough to make you immediately happy with it. 

Now there was only one, and it almost made you dread what it would be, there was one of a few things it could be: flowers, which you didn't want to find hidden anywhere, chocolate, which he could just easily hand you, or the one thing you were kind of apprehensive about finding, lingerie, and it was one of the things you expected him to get you. 

You wandered over to the wardrobe, it was the one place you presumed any hidden clothing would be, and you expected it to be lingerie, so you were reluctant to open the doors to it. Your hands pulled on the door, revealing nothing but the clothes that were already hung up. It made you a little reassured. You then migrated to the opposite end, opening that door, again you were greeted by hanging clothes. 

Eyes wandered down and saw it, you sighed and anxiety rocketed as you noticed that he had bought you lingerie. Shit, you knew he wanted you to wear it, on today of all days, but you couldn't help but be a little nervous about it. 

It wasn't anything like a bodysuit, which made you calm down a little, but it was still something you weren't eager to get into. A pair of panties and a bra, both the same amethyst purple colour and were lacey. Beside them was a note, presumably from Khun. 

"We can stay in your room all day today if you want, so it doesn't matter what you wear over this," that was it, all that was on the note. 

You exhaled a sigh of relief. It wouldn't be as bad as you imagined it would, but it still wasn't something you wanted at all, but you thought about grinning and bearing with it to just give him what he desired. It would only be for one night, and it might end up with you choosing to wear it again if his response to you wearing it was good enough. 

---

The both of you were laying in the centre of your bed, heads on the left side of the bed, feet at the right. A movie playing on the TV not far from the edge of the bed. You were more engrossed in getting some rest, as you knew you it was one thing you were going to need in the morning. 

It was nice and comfortable, the two of you being so close beside each other, you were on your stomach head facing the television screen, Khun's chest softly pressing on your back as he lay beside you. 

His fingers shifted some of your hair from your right shoulder, providing him with enough skin to place light kisses there. 

You giggle as you feel his mouth peppering you with affection, it was tickling you. 

"Khun, I'm trying to concentrate," you explain. 

He doesn't listen, his fingers travelling up your back, pulling on the back of your bra, then releasing it. 

You move yourself up and scowl at him, a smirk lined his face as he observed how you positioned yourself on the bed. 

"Take a hint already, not yet," you whine. 

"It's a bit difficult taking you seriously, especially when you've got yourself in that position," his voice says in a low husky tone. 

"You're such a pervert,"

"I'm allowed to be like this with you,"

You lay back down on the bed, your stomach back on the soft blanket again. Your eyes stare daggers into his. He was lying on his back, his blue eyes looking right into yours. 

It was nice just being the two of you, not that you didn't appreciate being around the others, but you knew that Khun would always try to have things his way, even on today of all days. 

With every second that dragged by, finishing every movie that was put on, Khun was getting more and more restless, and you could tell. He would start to fidget now and again when your eyes met his, you could see in his eye just how desperate he was for you. 

It had been the fifth movie on, which was only just finishing. You turn onto your back and stretch your arms off the side of the bed. 

You could hear Khun sigh, "I've had enough of this," he complains, moving above you and pining your arms beside you. 

Your face became red, body still as his breath hit your face. God was he attractive, he smirks at you again. 

"I've been waiting all day for this," you say, placing a trail of soft kisses on your face. 

It was never really worrying to you when he was rough with you, but with it being Valentine's Day, it did make you question just how he was going to be with you. Normally he was rough and merciless with you, but with how he was right now, you felt like you didn't need to worry so much. 

His hands release yours, mouth placing a quick peck on yours before travelling lower down, from your jaw to your neck, then sitting up on the bed. 

You relax a little, his hands gradually pulling the fabric off your stomach, you move your arms up as he removes from your top. Realising that you had put on the lingerie, you close your eyes, not wanting to see his reaction. 

Instead of earning a comment from him, his hands move down to your pyjama shorts, moving them down your legs just as slowly. 

You open your eyes again, not even daring to glance at him as he tugs your shorts off you. 

"You're so damn beautiful," he compliments you. 

"Shut up," you say quietly, moving your arms over your face. 

He chuckles at you, "I'm being serious," his mouth goes back to planting soft kisses on your skin, starting from your collarbone, and going lower to your breasts. Your breathing hitched as he moves the straps off your shoulders. 

You stare up at him, eyes set on his face. 

His hands then move to the bottom of the bra and tugs it down, revealing yourself to him. The cool air hitting your chest makes your nipples perk up. Khun's mouth travels down your mounds and onto your right nipple, flicking it around with his tongue before kissing it and heading lower again. A whine escapes your mouth as his mouth left your chest. 

You knew what he was intending on doing, you just wanted him to hurry up and stop teasing you already. 

Kisses were placed down your stomach, his eyes look quickly at your before proceeding. 

"These look so good on you," he says, pulling down your panties, "I guess you'll just have to wear them again another time." His fingers yank down the panties and let them fall on the floor behind him. 

He moves between your legs, his arms under them as he reaches for your hands and links his fingers with yours. 

His gaze n you as his tongue finds your bundle of nerves and flicks it, creating a shock that ripples through your body. 

"Khun," you cry silently. 

His tongue stops its assault, his teeth gently graze your clit, then bites down a little, making you jolt a little. 

"Stop it,"

His teeth let go of you, his mouth drifts closer to your entrance. "You love it really," he murmurs against you, his tongue hungrily poking inside you. 

You shut your eyes, throwing your head back, his mouth proceeding to turn your body and mind to mush. 

His fingers clamp down on your hands, preventing yours from attempting to reach for his hair, which was still tied. 

"Oh my god, Aguero," you cried, his tongue still circling your insides. 

It was rare that he would give to you, he would just rather receive, but there was the odd time where he just thinks of you and gives in. It seems like this was one of the times. 

His mouth became rougher with you, wanting to give you as much pleasure as possible, which he was doing. He was never someone who'd you consider boring, if it looked like you weren't enjoying yourself, he would just end up being unfair to you. 

His right hand let go of your left one, snaking his hand down towards your clit. 

"Don't grab at my hair, okay?" He says. 

"Okay, I won't," you cry. 

His fingers rub furiously on your clit, causing a string of high pitch moans to escape your mouth. Your hand grab at the blanket, gripping it tightly. 

You could feel it nearing, his fingers working vigorously on your clit, letting the knot in your stomach to build up quicker. 

"Fuck," you moan as you release onto his mouth. 

His hand left your other hand, he hovers over you again. 

"Was that good enough for you?" He asks cockily. 

"Yes," you reply quietly. 

He smirks at you before lifting the hem of his sweater quickly, his blue hair somewhat messy. His top half now revealed to you, his hands hurry to do the same with his tracksuit bottoms and boxers. 

His rushing made you panic a little, which was he did notice. 

"You're not scared, are you?" He asks softly, his feet kicking his trousers and boxers off. 

"A little," you reply. 

His face hovers over yours, capturing your lips with a quick kiss, "you don't have to be scared, I'll never do anything to hurt you." 

His length lines up to your hole, thrusting inside you slowly. His eyes watch your body as your back arches up, hands clutching the blanket around you. 

All you could do was moan as he moves slowly and gently inside you. Fingers find your face, the palm of his hand cupping your face. 

"I wasn't expecting you to be like this," you moan. 

He chuckles a little at you, "were you assuming that I'd be rough on you from the start?"

"I was worried that you would be," 

His lips kiss yours sweetly, "I do love you, why do you think I'm being gentle with you?"

Your head turns to the side, wanting to avoid his eyes. No answer forms from your mouth. 

"I love you too," you say softly. 

He was amused by your embarrassment. His lips plant several soft kisses on your face. 

"Please, Aguero," you cry out almost inaudibly. 

"What is it that you want?" He asks. 

"Please go a little faster,"

Your legs wrap around him, guiding him closer to your core as he thrust inside you. 

He takes the hint, his arms laying on the bed, lips pressing gently onto yours as he does what you asked of him. 

A soft moan escapes your mouth and vibrates onto his, he takes the opportunity and slides his tongue into your mouth. 

Your arms left your sides and wrapped around his neck, your fingers tug gently on his strands of blue hair. 

"Oh, Khun," you moan into his mouth. 

His mouth lets go of yours, "you like switching between names, don't you?" He teases. 

"I can't help it, you're driving my brain crazy."

His chest presses onto yours, head sinking into the crook of your neck as he picks up more speed. 

"Fuck," you moan, teeth grazing your lower lip. 

Your toes curl as he reaches further inside you, squeezing your eyes shut as your arms fell beside you again, hand trying to grip his arms. 

A coil was starting form in your stomach again. 

"Fuck, Aguero," you cry, your nails burrowing into his skin. 

You could feel his breath hitting the skin of your neck, sending shivers down your spine as you neared your release, walls clenching around his dick. 

A long hiss leaves his mouth as you release on him, his thrusts become lazy. He lets out a groan as he comes inside you. 

The both if you were left panting from your release, your grip on his arms loosened. 

"You're so amazing," you whisper into his ear. 

His head moves from your neck, now hovering over yours. 

"Where's this coming from?" He teases. 

"Shut up, I'm allowed to say nice things about you, aren't I?"

"Is this in general, or are we talking about how I make you feel while we're having sex, huh?"

"You're such an asshole," you protest, rolling over so that you were on top of him, "I didn't just mean in terms of sex, I meant everything that you've said and done to make me feel loved,"

He tuts and pulls on your arms, bringing your chest down near to his. 

"You're pretty damn amazing yourself," he praises. 

"Is this in general, or?"

"Shut up,"

His hips snap up to meet your roughly, making you gasp out at the unexpected feeling. 

"Ah, fuck!" You nearly screamed. 

"I never said that I was done with you yet," he whispers, wrapping his hands grabbing onto the skin of your hips, finger pressing tightly onto you. 

"How long do you intend to go on me?" You ask. 

"As long as I want, you're my priority at the moment, so don't think I'm going to go easy on you after this,"

His hips continued to snap up as his hands kept you in place, often bring you down onto his dick. 

"Dammit," he moans, face flustered as his movements pick up his pace and speed. 

You high pitched moans were released onto his face as you kept your body close to his. 

His teeth tug on your lower lip, pulling your face down level with his, your mouth then enveloped with his. 

He was now being rough with you, he had given you what you wanted before, and was giving in to his urges. 

Your mind was incapable of thinking of anything, like the only thing that mattered was what he was doing to you. 

Your hands rested on his chest, fingers curling, leaving scratches on his skin. You shut your eyes as he rammed into you, hitting a certain spot inside you, turning your vision blurry. You pull away from his mouth. 

"Oh my god, Aguero," you cry loudly, "please,"

His hands let go of your hips, fingers tracing a line down you spine before grasping onto your ass. 

"Is this making you feel good, beautiful?" He teases, his low voice whispering into your ear. 

He slams you down onto his, making you almost scream out. You felt the knot quickly forming again the more he uses you. 

"Mmm," you moan, "dammit, I'm close,"

Your nails scraped across the skin of his chest, making him groan out. 

"Fuck," his mouth sobs against your neck, he finds your sweet spot and plants a few kisses there. 

You came fast, your head drooping onto his neck. 

His rough hands let go of you, the left one travelling up your back and to your hair, brushing it softly. 

The both of you lay there panting, filling the room with the sounds you were creating. You couldn't move, your body refusing to listen to you as you sought to move just a little. 

"Are you exhausted yet?" He asks, his fingers pushing your hair out of your face. 

Your eyes glance up at his, "a little," you say, your body finally listening to you as you sat yourself up on him. "Am I alright to do something?"

"If you want to, I won't stop you," he replies. 

You grin at him, your face moving down to plant your own kisses on his face. 

He chuckles a little, "you're too affectionate for your own good,"

"You love me for it,"

He smiles at you, his eyes following your face as your mouth travelled lower, from his face down to his neck, finding his sweet spot. He lets out a long, shaky breath as your teeth graze his sensitive skin. 

"Stop it," he says bluntly, "just get on with what you wanted to do already,"

You let go of his neck and instead proceeded to kiss lower and lower, onto his stomach, and down towards his groin. He was being a lot more vocal than he usually was. There weren't any groans, just desperately shaky breaths escaping his mouth as yours moved away from his stomach. 

Blue eyes were still on yours as you sat between his legs. Your tongue licks slowly from his balls to the head of his dick. 

"Stop fucking teasing me and get on with it already," he complains. 

Your hands begin o stroke his length, your eyes looking innocently into his. 

"I don't think I've heard you beg before," you say smugly. 

"Don't get used to it," he snaps at you. 

Him begging gave you a sort of confidence boost, a sign for you to keep going with what you began. 

Your hands let go of him, your wet mouth taking a hold of his head, tongue swirling it. 

He closes his eyes as you bob your head up and down on him, slowly at first. 

You kept your eyes on him, watching every expression his face made as you continued to give him what you guessed he wanted. Receiving all the shaky breaths, hiss and groans fro him was a bonus for you, they gave you enough motivation to give him more of you. 

"Fuck, you're so good," he groans silently, his hands obtaining your hair, grabbing on tightly to the strands. 

You were anticipating this, so you try to release him quickly. 

Your eyes met as you breathe in enough air. You were both flustered, red with your arousal. 

Your mouth goes back to engulfing his length, his hands still grasping your hair tightly. 

You close your eyes as his hips snap, his length thrust into your mouth, making you nearly gasping for air. 

His hips pause for a moment, his entire length inside your mouth, causing you to choke on him. It was uncomfortable. Your fingers tap on his leg. 

"Not yet," he says, still holding you in place, "you look so pretty with my cock inside you mouth,"

His hips then fall back down to the bed below, your pulling mouth away from his length, giving you a chance to breathe before you were pushed back onto him. 

This was when he could be merciless with you, he like watching you struggle, it was the one thing that boosted his pride. It didn't matter whether it was in bed on not, he always wanted to get a reaction from you. 

His hips snap up more violently than before. You close your eyes and held on tightly to his legs. The lack of air was made it difficult, you tried to breathe in through your nose. 

He lets out a loud groan as he releases himself inside you, his head just at the start of your throat. He held you still again for a few seconds as he waited for you to swallow his load. 

"You're such an asshole," you complain, wiping your mouth as he lets go of your hair. 

"What position do you want to be in now, then?" He asks smugly. 

You tut, turning your back on him as you got into a new position. You slid your legs under his and shift backwards, glancing at his length from under your body. 

"This is different," he comments. 

"I'm trying to do something new, just don't complain about it," you say. 

"I'm not going to," he says, his hand grabs at your ass as you reached for his length. "This is a great angle to watch my cock disappear into you,"

You glare over at him, a little embarrassed. He was good with his dirty talk, it did make things a lot more exciting. 

You move your hips down, his length entering you again. Your arms move in front of you, hand clenching the sheets as you moved backwards onto him, then forwards. 

But he couldn't deny that you were giving him a good view of you, his hand still on your ass, guiding you down onto him. 

"Shit, you're so good," he praises, moving his hips up slowly. 

It was a weird angle, but it made him reach further inside you, making you cry and moan out more. 

You felt his hand give your ass a soft smack, his hip stopped moving. His other hand moved onto your ass, taking control and forcing you down onto him again. 

"Oh my god," you cry, your eyes glancing back at him, "Aguero,"

A string of hisses leaves his mouth as he pushes your ass onto his length more. It wasn't too much for you, his length hitting you g-spot and causing you to see stars. 

You tried to lay your stomach on the bed as the continued to push you down onto him. 

"Ahh, mmm," you cry as you hid your head in the blanket. 

His hips snapped up again, making him hit that spot inside you a lot more violently than before. 

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," you moan into the bed, your body began to shake as the speed and pace pick up. 

You felt like you were melting into the bed, your mind completely blank by how he was using you. You halted your sounds, desperate to hear more from Khun, who was letting out groans and hisses now and again. 

"Uhh, shit," you moan, your climax quickly building again. 

Yet again, he was merciless with you. His hands still gripped onto you tightly, the sounds of skin slapping just about filled the room, along with your moans and groans. 

With the position you were in, your walls tighten around him at a weird angle. 

"Fuck," he nearly screams as you come on him. His hands let go of your ass, his hips slowly moving up to meet yours. 

Within a few short thrusts, he comes inside you. His length falls out of you as you move your back end up, making all the come inside you drip down onto him. 

"Damn," he says, grabbing your ass again, then spanking it. 

"Can I move yet?" You ask sarcastically. 

He smiles, "I'm not preventing you from doing that,"

You turn around and sit in between his legs, catching a glimpse of the come that had coated his length. 

"Fuck," you complain, "now I'm worn out. 

"Well, I should think so," he says, pulling you down onto him again, his arms wrapping around you tightly, "damn, you can't expect me to do nothing when you instantly start being the top, can you?"

"What if I wanted you to do nothing, and let me take the lead once?"

"One day," he places kisses on your hair, "just not yet,"

"You and your damn pride,"

"You wouldn't be with me if I didn't have any,"

"You don't know that," you say playfully, placing soft kisses on his chest and arms. "I've loved you this long, after all," 

"Stop being all sappy. I love you, idiot,"

You turn onto your stomach, chests nearly touching. Your mouth curves into a smile as your arms move under your chin. 

"I love you too, asshole,"

Khun smiles, his eyes close as you lay there. You felt comfortable and happy, just like how you wanted to feel. 

[parcai]

what would be the perfect day for you, activity and schedule wise, and then what does a day of relaxation look like for u irl

i don't like to 😭 oh god i don't like to relax NFHDKDGSKSGSK i like to DO shit and travel and explore and 😈 but if i must stay here and chill ☹:

1. the birds do not wake me up 😑 this step is essential to being able to sleep the fuck in for once and begin our soothing experience 💆‍♀️ once we have successfully shot down those motherfuckers 🕴, we rise ready for the day in an empty house w no one to bother me 👼🌞

2. 🚿, 🖌🦷

3. i like to cook when i am left alone actually 🥰 so maybe i will make a waffle as a treat, topped with some fresh fruit, homemade whipped cream w some lemon zest, be all snazzy 😚💯 watch some comedy while enjoying it

4. a nice morning walk and chat w my friend and her dogs at the nearby state park. she likes to bake so maybe i would skip breakfast before and we'll share cake together or smth idk 🥰 she's 12/10 ramsay should be afraid of his own baking skills (she made key lime pie from scratch for a party in 6th grade that's so extra ily 🤨)

5. i would drive up to a great lake of my choice. go shipwreck searching (we almost never find anything but it is a great deal of fun 🥰), tour the lighthouses even tho ik them all at this point, but i find them enjoyable. lunch out there is always excellent bc of the fresh seafood. i may bring a friend but only one and only a chiller one for relaxation sake 🧖‍♀️

6. by the time i get home it's evening. hmm homemade dinner brought outside (maybe pizza? that seems summer night outside worthy. but i like asian food and mexican better so ☹ this would be a difficult call), call over the gang, start up the firepit and grab marshmallows and the Good chocolate, drop down the white sheet on the deck, project a stupid movie everyone loves and have lots of fun w that, then kick them all out by 3am so i can sleep in peace 💀

[bxthharmon]

Never Go Home Again, Pt. V || JJ Maybank x reader

Words: 3628

Series Warnings: violence / talking about abuse / toxic relationships / talking about nudes sex tapes and sex tapes / drugs / underage drinking

Pt. Warnings: underage drinking / drug use

Series summary:  A new girl, a shoebox of old memories, a past she’s trying to forget coincide with a hotheaded, but selfless, boy.  teenagers getting in way over their heads

Pt. Summary: A trip to the cemetery and talks of the future

A/N: Okay THANKS FOR THE SUPPORT and as always, let me know what oyu think and if you wanna be tagged <3

Chapters linked in my masterlist.

“masterlist”

“I mean it’s obvious, right?” John B looked around at the group, “A family heirloom, what better place to hide a message? He had to know it was gonna get back to me, right?”

“Yeah, it’s possible.” Kie assured her friend, looking back at Pope’s skeptical face and you and JJ, currently sharing a spliff.

“It could also be possible that you’re concocting wild theories to help,” Pope started, “you know, deal with your sad feels.”

“Bro, you know how I process my sad feels?” JJ piped up.

“Do we want to?” you quipped, taking a hit off the joint.

“Dank nugs and the stickiest of ickies.” he continued, making you snort., “That’s how I do it.”

“You know,” you looked at him, as if about to make a psychological evaluation, “you’re like, such a stereotype?”

“I’m not concocting, okay?” John B snapped, cutting off your tangent, “My dad’s trying to give me a message.”

“If it helps you believe, John B.” Kie assured.

“Look, I - I don’t need a therapy session, okay? I’m not trippin’ out.”

“It’s okay to trip out, bro, but-”

“Look my - my dad is missing, okay? Missing. You don’t know what it’s like to have the person closest to you vanish and then have no idea what happened. To just wake up every morning wandering.”

“It’s been almost a year.” Kie soothed.

“Hey,” JJ piped up, again, “He could have been kidnapped - that’s definitely a possibility.”

“Yeah, could be in a Soviet sub being interrogated by the KGB somewhere.” Pope offered.

“Absolutely. Or Atlantis!”

“Because a fictional, Ancient Greek allegory is the most plausible option.” you deadpanned.

“Y/N,” Kie warned, turning back to John B, “What do you think the message is?”

“Redfield.” he thought for a second, “Redfield Lighthouse, that’s my dad’s favourite place.”

He pulled into the woods, the group leading you to a picket fence overlooking the grey and white tower and the platform of rocks it stood on.

“I didn’t even know there was a lighthouse on this island.” you muttered, shielding your eyes from the sun.

“Alright here’s what’s gonna happen,” John B walked over to JJ, “You’re gonna post up and look out for bogeys, okay?”

“Wait,” JJ frowned, “why me?”

“‘Cause you’re not coming.” Pope said, as if it was obvious.

“Why?”

“Look JJ, there are independent and dependent variables.” Pope explained.

“You’re an independent variable.” you confirmed.

“We don’t know what you’ll do.” Pope added.

“Shut up!” he yelled at you both, “just shut up!”

“Listen to me for a second!” John B shouted over him, “Just listen. Pope and Y/N, stand look out with JJ, okay? If we get split up we’ll meet back at JJ’s house.”

You made eye contact with JJ, thinking of his dad, passed out on the sofa the night before.

“Great.” Kie interrupted your thought, walking away with John B.

“I’m gonna work on my merit scholarship essay.” Pope excused, “and I’m tryna keep felonies down to a minimum.”

“A’ight, will you just shut up?” JJ said, kicking around his hacky sack. You pulled yourself up onto a joint between a tree and its branch, watching JJ kick the sack around. You watched for a couple of minutes, admiring the way his eyebrows pulled in when he concentrated and his blonde locks fell over his face, or the way he pouted when the ball fell into the crisp leaves,  before twisting around and kicking your feet out to rest on the branch. He looked up at you, a determined curiosity in his eyes. You looked back down at him, bracing yourself for the oncoming question. “What happened last night?”

You glanced over to Pope, who was too busy thinking to pay any attention. “My dad got drunk and started saying shit, I didn’t wanna stick around and I had no clue where to go. Thanks, for all of that.”

“It's nothing you haven’t done for me.” he reminded you. “You know you can talk to me about anything, right?”

You smiled a tight-lipped smile, nodding quickly, “Of course.” 

You dragged Pope into a game of hacky sack, and he was beginning to get the hang of it (after much teasing from you and JJ) when you heard the sirens. You swore, running to the Twinkie as the cars pulled closer, sirens wailing and lights flashing. You all jumped in, driving away despite your point that “Pogues don’t leave pogues behind, right?”

--

John B had picked up you, Pope and JJ, and after a short delay caused by Kie’s refusal (you explained to the boys that John B had kissed her and been rejected, which was all Kie had told you during your shift at the Wreck) you found yourselves on the way to the cemetery. 

“You mind if I just relax on this one?” JJ spoke up, “It’s been a long day, and a lot of weird stuff’s gone down. I’m just gonna lay low,” he turned to you, “Did you want a hit of this?”

You took the blunt, inhaling the weed and exhaling the smoke. You offered it to Pope, who shook his head. You groaned. “Popey, you’re a total buzzkill!”

“How much have you had?” you flipped him off, “I keep the signal clear.” he shook his head, and you handed the blunt back to JJ.

“Dude, okay.” JJ leaned forwards like an old mage about to give the wisest advice of the century, “Do you understand that your problem is that you don’t get creative? If you got creative, then-”

“Look, John B interrupted, sparing you all from JJ’s wisdom, “I - I know I was wrong about the lighthouse, alright? And wrong about everything else going on. But I was right about one thing, okay? My dad is trying to tell me something.” 

“Come on.” you hopped out of the van, and turned, grabbing JJ’s handed and trying to pull him up from the floor with all your might, frustrated when he giggled at your efforts, not having moved an inch. Kie scolded the pair of you, so you let John B lead you into the cemetery, tickling Pope on the back of the neck with a bit of long grass so that he panicked, spinning around like a deer in the headlights, searching for whatever ghost he thought had touched him. You and JJ giggled.

“This place is scary.” Kie shuddered, the torch lights swaying in time with the footfalls. “John B, what are we doing?”

“Shut up!” he hissed, “Okay, so you know how you’re trying to remember a song,” you prepared yourself for an unnecessarily long explanation, “and you can’t remember who sings it?”

You all hummed in understanding.

“So. Redfield. This whole time I thought it was a place, right? But it’s not a place.” He held up the light to show the word “REDFIELD” written over the door of a tomb, “It’s a person.”

“Voi-effing-la.” JJ snarked, and you elbowed him playfully.

“See,” John B continued, “My great-great-grandmother, Olivia Redfield.” he glanced back at you, “That was her maiden name. Look, help me with the door, come on.” he stepped forwards, him and Pope beginning to push on the count of three. JJ joined.

“Are you pushing?”

“Yeah, I’m pushing.”

“Hold on, I got it.”

“This door is, like, 700 pounds man,” Pope sighed, “it’s not gonna budge.”

“We didn’t come this far, to get this far, alright?” JJ countered. You and Kie looked at each other, fighting back giggles at the macho-man display in front of you. Your stifled laughs were interrupted by a hissing, the pair of you squealing slightly as you stepped back.

The boys pulled back as well, JJ throwing his arms out dramatically in front of you. “Snake!” he yelled.

“No shit.” you whispered.

“That’s a moccasin, alright.” he confirmed, “Ye olde Dr. Cottonmouth. Death in tall grass.”

He barked loudly at the snake, crouching slightly.

“JJ, Shut up!” Kie hissed, “Shut up!”

“You’re gonna wake the frickin’ dead, man!” Pope whisper-shouted.

“They’re afraid of dogs.” JJ shrugged like it was common knowledge, ignoring your confused faces, “Everyone knows that, man. Wait, hold on.” he pulled Kie and John B back, the four of you turning back to him with unimpressed faces. “If there’s one, there’s probably dozens.”

“What?” Pope fretted.

“JJ,” you groaned. “Stop being dramatic, it was just a snake.”

Pope and JJ looked at you almost offended, with terror stricken faces.

“Can you stop? You’re scaring me.” Kie begged. JJ started barking again.

“Oh my God, Jay.” you seethed, “stop fucking barking!”

“Just making sure it’s clear!” he argued, making you roll your eyes.

“Shut up!” Pope finalised, “John-”

“It’s a snake!” JJ countered.

“We’re not gonna get in there.” Pope continued, as Kie nudged you, pointing to the whole in the door. “It’s not budging. We should probably just go.”

“I can get through.” you spoke, Kie glancing at you with a worried smile.

“What?” JJ stared at you, concern striking his face, again.

“What?” echoed John B, “No, no, you think you’re gonna fit through the hole?”

“That hole?” JJ confirmed, and you nodded.

“Look,” you turned to face John B, “I know we only met like a week and a half ago, but I can see how much this means to you. If this helps you find him, or, at the very least, find out what happened, then of course I’ll climb through that whole. You deserve to know the truth. I’ll do it.”

Kie went forward to clear the vines away, and JJ frowned at you. “Are you sure?”

“For John B,” you reminded him, “I’ll try not to get possessed, you know, like the Tutankhamun shit. Though, if I did, I’d take all of you down with me.”

With that, JJ helped pull the vines to the side, allowing you entry. “I’m gonna boost ya,” he said, leaning against the wall in a crouch position with his fingers interlocked, “I’ve seen it in the movies several times, ready?”

You turned to John B, “Remind me what we’re looking for?”

“You’ll know when you see it.” he said, arms crossed and staring straight on. You nodded, not really assured, but ready to go in.

“Hold my flashlight.” You passed it to Pope.

“Okay,” JJ instructed, “Put your hand right there, and your foot. Alright, on three.” 

You ignored him, pushing yourself up and clambering through the whole, jumping down onto the dusty ground on the other side. You brushed yourself off in the darkness, hearing JJ mutter “Okay, nevermind, just forget about three then.” the lights from outside were moving, and you saw the shadow of JJ moving away, and Pope moving towards the gap.

“Okay, flashlight?” you called, and are greeted by the feel of Pope thrusting a flashlight in your face, barely an inch away. You took it from him, clicked it on and shone it around. You could see the shapes of the individual tombs, and shuddered.

“You alive?” John B called, “Got like a - a heartbeat, and everything?”

“So far. No Howard Carter shit yet.” you confirmed, hearing JJ mutter something about Tutankhamun, and you slowly turned, looking at the dusty tombstones and plaques for clues. “Uh, I need some more light.” 

“Yeah, yeah.” He handed you another light, “I got ya.”

You shone it towards a gap between two stones, stepping forwards slowly, trying to make out exactly what it was. An envelope of some sort?

“You got something?” JJ asked, “Is there gold?”

“Oh my God.” you muster, picking it up. You read the front, “FedEx”, and then next to it, in handwritten block letters, “FOR BIRD.”

You stepped towards the hole, holding the envelope and light out blindly as someone took them from you. You heard Pope say “That’s not gold.”

“Holy shit.” You heard John B murmur as you tackled your way out of the tomb, tumbling out of the whole with JJ’s help, “This is from my dad.”

You and Kie smiled softly, turning at the sound of a vehicle. JJ took a hit from his Juul, “Code red.” he called, “Code red. Square groupers. Square groupers!”

“Go!” Kie said, the five of you running from the headlights.

“It’s the guys who robbed your house!” JJ yelled as you all collapsed behind some tombstones, leaning around to try and see who they were. 

“Lights!” You hissed, as the boys struggled with their flashlights. You clicked JJ’s headlight off for him, and he smirked in the shaky light. “John B - your light!” he tried to stuff in his shirt, making you smirk, idiot.

You could hear shouts, “Do you think it’s them?” Kie asked.

“Homie’s got a gun.” observed JJ.

“Screw this.” You grabbed Kiara’s hand, pulling her up with you and ran towards the gate. You let go, grabbing the gate and climbing, throwing your legs over one by one, and then hopping down the other side, only then noticing that the boys had, in fact, followed. Kie jumped down beside you, then JJ and John B. You looked back, seeing how Pope’s shorts were hooked over a loop, and he was stuck. You could see him panicking, and ran back to him, grabbing his waist as he yelled complaints. You pulled him back, stepping away from the gate a cackling at the sight of him standing awkwardly in his pants.

“Nice,” JJ commented, “It’s a little tootsie roll!” 

Kie grabbed your forearm, the pair of you jumping in the car in fits if barely-contained giggles.

“Dumbass,” you mumbled through your laughter, helping him in, “Ain’t you ever jumped a gate before?”

“I have limited experience!” he countered, John B driving away.

“Guys,” you wheezed, you and JJ still giggling your heads off, “I’m pretty sure that was just the cemetery guards.”

--

You watched JJ spread jam over two slices of mouldy toast, disgust pulling at your features.

“That bread had mould on it three days ago.” Pope said, in passing.

“I’ll just pull off the bad parts,” JJ shrugged, “Plus, mould is good for you, it’s just a natural organism.”

“Jay, deadly nightshade is also ‘just a natural organism’, and, clue in the name, it’s deadly.” you pointed out, and he shrugged, joining you next to John B as Kie called to him.

“Hot damn, let’s do it.” he came, watching as John B pulled the seal off the envelope. He took a bite from the bread, and immediately gagged, spitting it back into his hand, and going to throw the bread away. Your face contorted in disgust, again, but softened at the sight of his sheepish grin. John B unfolded the map, and the five of you leaned over to check it out.

The map showed the island, a hurricane and ‘x’ marked in with a black marker.

“Holy shit.” John murmured.

“Well, ‘x’ marks the spot.” you pointed to the ‘x’ situated on the sea.

Next, John B pulled out an old fashioned tape recorder.

“What’s that?” JJ asked.

“A tape recorder, dummy.” you chuckled, “Where’d he get it, the 90s?”

“Dear Bird,”

“Who’s Bird?” you asked.

“That’s what my dad called me.” John B explained.

“I hate to say ‘I told you so’, but I told you so. And you doubted your old man. I suspect, at this moment you’re filled with guilt and self-loathing about our last fight, but don’t kill yourself just yet, kid. I didn’t expect to find the Merchant either.” you looked at the others, seeing their matching expressions of shock and wonder, “You were probably right to call me out, I wasn’t exactly father of the decade. What can I say, kid? I could smell the barn. And hopefully we’re listenin’ to this in our brand new sugar-shack down in Costa Rica livin’ off passive investments and pulling on permits. If not, and you find this for less optimal reasons, well, that’s what the map is for. There she is, the wreck of the Merchant. If somethin’ happens to me, finish what I started. Go for the gold, kid. I love you bird, even if I didn’t always act like it. I’ll see you on the other side.” 

The tape went static, and you could see John B tearing up, your heart breaking for him. He clicked the recorder off, standing up and grabbing onto a door frame, sobs racking his body.

“Holy shit, he did it!” JJ grinned ecstatically, “Big John - He found, he found the Merchant!” 

You slapped his arm, eyes widening in warning as you nodded over to John B. “Can you… can you please?” JJ nodded, looking down and muttering an apology. You could hear John B’s sobs from feet away. You watched Kie hug him from behind, and leant your head on JJ’s shoulder.

--

You lay between JJ’s legs, head resting on his chest as he played with your hair, and you watched Kie strum at the ukulele, your faces lit up by the fire beside you, the soft, glowing light illuminating your small circle.

“How much was it again?” JJ broke the relative quiet.

“Four hundred mil.” You responded in a low murmur, looking up at his golden face.

“Alright, let’s talk the split.” he lightened up, hands leaving your hair and coming down to meet your hands. “Now, before we say ‘evenly’, may I remind you that I am the only one that can properly defend us from those groupers who are after us.” he lifted the gun to show you all, ignoring the collective groan, “Protection, not cheap, okay?”

“You haven’t trained.” Pope pointed out. “You’ve done zero training.”

“Nada.” You emphasised, “Zilch.”

“Youtube, bro!” JJ justified. “That’s at least a five percent bump right there. Any objections?” he ignored you and Pope’s muttering, “Didn’t think so.”

“Yeah.” You and Pope said in unison, and you sat up, twisting to face him.

“Complaint right here!” you leaned away from him.

“I don’t hear any.” He pouted as you pulled away, reaching out for your waist and pulling you back down to how you’d lay before.

“Guys,” you twisted your head to look at the pogues. “I’m like, new here, and y’all don’t really know me, so like, are you sure you want me in the cut? ‘Cause I’d understand if not-”

“Y/N,” Kie shut you up, “quality over quantity. You’ve helped us, we’re all getting 80 mil, JJ.” she glared at him, making you snort. “what are you gonna do with your 80 mil, Pope?”

“Pay for college in advance. And also textbooks. Those are expensive.”

“What about you Kie?” you asked.

“Yeah, what does a socialist do when she’s rich?” Pope smirked.

Kie chuckles, shrugging, “Just wanna make a double album. About OBX, the pogues. You know, the way Catch a Fire’s about Kingston. Record it at Marley studio, Peter Tosh producing.”

“Peter Tosh is dead.” Pope said.

“Peter Tosh is dead, I know.” Kie grinned, “Spirit of Peter Tosh will never die.” she toasted with her beer, “What about you, Y/N?”

“Pay off my brother’s student loans.” You paused, “And travel. I wanna see Europe. And Asia, and South America. I wanna see other cultures, you know? Might come back here, one day, I might even go back to LA for a bit, but probably not, just come straight home after a couple of years, and go full kook.”

“Yeah,” JJ agreed, “I’m gonna get a big ass house of Figure Eight and go full kook.”

“You’re gonna go full kook?” Pope asked.

“Yeah.” JJ nodded. “Gonna get a marble statue of myself and then I’m gonna get a koi pond.” You giggled, grinning up at him. “Put a bunch of those fish-”

“I’m never visiting.” Kie laughed.

“What are you gonna do, JB?” Pope brought your attention to your other friend.

He looked back around at the group and toasted, “To going full kook.”

“To going full kook!” you all cheered, all of you laughing, drinks raised, and heads stuck in your temporary bliss.

Eventually, John B clocked out, heading to his room, and Kiara gave Pope a ride home, leaving you and JJ alone for the first time since last night. You had been drinking and smoking all night, while he had stopped uncharacteristically early. As a result, he was almost sober, and you were nearing wasted as you went to grab your stuff and head home. He put his arm around your waist, letting you lean on him as you ambled slowly towards your house.

“Jay?” you mumbled, and he hummed, helping you further down the road, “When we go full kook, we should combine our money to get an even bigger house.”

He smiled at the thought of sharing a house with you.

“You wanna share a house with me?” he stopped by your door, and you turned to face him.

“Duh.” you slurred, blinking up at him.

“I’ll warn you, I’m a messy person.” he gazed down at your drunken smile.

“I’ll manage.” you mumbled, leaning up into him.

You pressed your lips to his, feeling pure bliss for a split second, but sobering when you felt him move away, punching against the kiss. You stepped back, cheeks reddening as you realised what you had done, feeling stupid and embarrassed, wanting to disappear. You felt your vision go cloudy, and he was talking but all you could hear was the voice in your head screaming that you had ruined this perfect, happy friendship You frowned, trying to keep the tears in as he stepped away from the door, backing into the road.

“JJ, I…” you watched him walk away, his shape turning into a smudge that crawled away, and disappearing completely when he turned the corner. Then, you let yourself fall.

Tags: @tangledinsparkles​ @jellyfishbeansontoast​ @lolitstiana​ @ilikealotofpeople-younotsomuch​ @teamnick​ @thoughtsofthestars​ @obxmxybxnk​

[fipindustries]

ok so pro tip: if anyone ever says “[art form] is dying” you can immediatly dismiss them as a dumbass. in my experience every person who says that is actually someone who has no knowledge or interest in the art form itself and just consumes it in the most passive  way imaginable by absorbing mainstream pop culture through osmosis.

in the world of art, particularly, people bemoan how “modern art” is taking over museums and will share a hundred billion articles about someone who threw a piece of trash in a museum and people thought it was an art installation. is like, mothefucker go to pixiv, go to artstation, holy shit, go anywhere online, classic techniques, composition, lighting, perspective, anatomy, all those things are alive and thriving online, buy art books where you can see the concept art for videogames or animated movies, go look for artist on twitter, go to fur affinity for all i care.

same with movies, everyone is saying movies are dying, movies are dying, there is only disney aproved amrvel sludge, and is like, well, yes, if all you keep up is with marvel movies and surface level normie core popcorn brain rot garbage then yes you’d think movies are dying but for christ sake david villeneuve is about to get his masterpiece DUNE out, wes anderson is going to get out the french dispatch, the cohen brothers made buster scruggs last year on netflix, david lynch is still working, robert eggers made the lighthouse only two years ago, i implore you go to YMS youtube channel and check out his top ten lists from every year, you have well over a hundred incredible movie recomendations there that will keep you busy for at least a couple of years

MUSIC! oh my god! if i have to listen one more motherfucker whining about mumble rap and pop im gonna blow a gasket, here, there is a tiny website called soundcloud dot com, or perhaps another little hipster rag known as you tube, just put in the search bar what you are looking for. it will not be instantaneous, it will probably take some trial and error, some refinement, some research about the exact terms you are looking for but i assure you you will get there, you wil find some band which will turn out to have a ten year lond discography with exactly what you were looking for that you never imagined even existed. and you know what else? even if i granted you that fine, music is now dead now and forever, are you telling me you have actually exhausted the last hundred or even fifty years of musical tradition? are you looking me in the eyes and telling me with a straight face that you have listened to every band and every song there was to discover in the last fifty years of music all around the world and now we have to give up all hopes of ever hearing anything new?

so what you like is not mainstream, so fucking what? all it takes is just a little effort, just a tiny ammount of searching online for a good forum or subreddit to look for good recomendations! even 4chan is good for this if all you are looking for is recomendations! but you have to do it yourself, you have to go out there and look for it because if all you do is sit on your couch and expect good art to come to you, you are going to be so terribly dissapointed

[saharamae21]

Never Ran Smooth (Part 7)

Hey everyone! Working really hard to try to update more! Let me know what you think! | Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | 

__________________________________________________

Give me your hands, if we be friends,

JJ’s POV:

After hours of blaring music and yelling, my dad had finally passed out. This is why Savannah can never get involved with me. I would tear her down to my level. I would just ruin her life. I winced in pain as I brushed against the bruises my dad had given me and roughly packed a bag. I needed to get out of here. As I slipped past my dad on the couch, a wave of rage overcame me. I can’t do this anymore. He makes me miserable. He’s given me nothing. He’s the reason I’m worthless. I shook as I pulled out the gun and aimed right at his sleeping body. I felt tears well up in my eyes and moved away quickly, shoving the gun back into my bag. In the end, he was still my father.

When I got to John B’s there was someone already there. They watched the house from a car as we slipped into the Pogue and took off.

“First, I almost get strangled to death by Kooks,”I started. “and now I'm on the hook for 30 grand. We should just dip.”

“Okay, where do you wanna go? Hm?” John asked with a hint of annoyance.

“Yucatan,” I said, earning a laugh from the boy. “No, I'm dead serious right now. Surf all day, and then we can just live off lobsters we catch with our bare hands.”

“You just wanna leave 'cause you got your ass beat?” he asked, rolling his eyes. No. Maybe if I just left, Sav would be better off. Maybe if I left, my dad would get his shit together. Maybe if I left, everyone around me would get by a little easier. Not only that, maybe if we left I could save John B from becoming like the two guys who were fed to the sharks.

“You didn't see the photos,” I mumbled.

“Think about it. They're willing to kill for the gold,” John B paused. “then it's gotta be out there.”

“One hundred years, people have been tryin' to find this Royal Merchant,” I said raising my voice. “and no one succeeded. And you think you are gonna be the one that actually finds it? When will you get it in your thick skull? If you keep goin' down this road, you're gonna end up just like your dad!”

I felt him shove me. I saw the anger on his face. I watched as he began to struggle with his own thoughts and actions.

“I can't give up, JJ!” he screamed back at me. “The last time I saw that dude, we got in an argument, and then he took all of our rent money and dipped for this Royal Merchant. And then I told him he was a shit father. and you know how the rest of the story goes.”

“Bro, that wasn't your fault,” I said softly. I just wanted him to stop blaming himself for this.

“It doesn't matter whose fault it is, JJ!” he yelled. “Do you not understand that? I can't give up on the hunt, man. I don't care who's out there, who's gonna try to kill us. Do you understand that? I can’t just leave. I get you think you have nothing here JJ, but that isn’t true. What about Pope and Kie? What about Savannah?” I cringed when he said her name. I remember the look on her face when I told her we would never happen. She deserves more than me.

“What would Savannah do if you just left one day JJ?” he asked me. I avoided his gaze. I felt guilt well up in me as I imagined her looking for me. “When are you going to stop thinking you're bad for her and realize how good she is for you?”

His words burned me. They sat in the back of my mind for the rest of the day. I had made my decision to prevent her from being hurt by my lifestyle. Now night was upon us and the Midsummers event was in full force. I was dressed the nicest I’ve ever looked as we pulled the boat up to the dock of the hotel.

“Okay, look, I need you to get this to Sarah,” John told me.

“Ooh! Can I read it?” I asked, already sneaking a peak. “Hold up. Are you mackin' Sarah Cameron?”

“Would you shut up?” he asked, clearly embarrassed. This new information made my stomach churn. He was macking on a Kook and I couldn’t even accept the fact that I might like one.

In the end, I agreed to be his little messenger and sneak into Midsummers. I made it into the backyard and admired the decorations Sav had thought about. She really had a talent when it came to picking out things that sparkled. Then my eyes landed on her. She looked radiant and fresh like the decorations themselves. She was beautiful from head to toe and every single part of me wanted to go up to her and ask her to dance, but then my eyes found their ways to hers. There was her black eye. The one she had gotten while trying to protect me. The guilt began to overwhelm me. Where there was me, there was bruising and hurt, and she wasn’t an exception to that rule. I was a danger to her.

“Hey!” Pope yelled. Thank you for interrupting my thoughts.

“Dude, don't sneak up on me like that right now,” I said awkwardly as he embraced me. “Whoa. Unexpected PDA there, Dr. Spock.”

He looked so distressed, but it made me happy to know he was okay. “But, uh... hey, love you, too, man,” I said while placing a quick kiss on his cheek.

“Did Shoupe do that?” he asked, motioning to my face.

“Oh, this? No. This is-- It's my dad. You know? Has that right jab,” I said jokingly. I didn’t want him to worry. “Can really snap it off at times. It's nothin' that hasn't happened before.”

I explained that we were going to be rich. I explained that John had a plan. And most of all I explained to him that nothing that happened to me was his fault. I smiled as I left him to do his job and went back to the mission of finding Sarah Cameron. As I dodged my way through the crowds I found Sarah dancing with her little sister. I awkwardly slipped her the note and tried to get out of there as quickly as I could, but felt a hand grab mine. It was soft and warm and I knew exactly whose it was before turning around.

“Are you okay…?” her voice was shaky. Princess.

“I’m fine,” I said as I turned around. I heard her gasp and instantly her hand was on my face. I winced in pain and pushed her hand away. She muttered an apology, worry filling her eyes.

“Who did this to you?” she asked. I saw a single tear slip down her cheek. I wanted to reach forward and wipe it away, but at this moment she seemed a million miles away from me.

“Don’t worry about it,” I scoffed. She wasn’t going to let this go though. I opened my mouth to give her an explanation, but was interrupted by the last person I wanted to see.

“I'm wonderin' if you could get me a mai tai, my friend,” Rafe’s voice rang out.

“Grow up Rafe,” Sav said, defending me no matter what.

“You guys look spiffy,” I joked. “You know, uh, I got a couple of orders ahead of you, so why don't you guys just go ahead and wait by the bar?”

“No, we're going…” Rafe started. “help yourselves to hors d'oeuvres.”

Then a guy I didn’t know spoke up. I had seen him around a few times, but never once has he picked a fight with me.

“Guys, JJ's gonna serve us some hors d'oeuvres,” he smirked, but not at me. He was looking past me, right at Savannah. I saw the anger on her face.

“That’s enough Jasper,” she said, her hands balled into fists. “Leave him alone.”

“I'll be right back, okay?” I said. I was going to do anything to get Sav out of this situation before it got ugly. But then they followed me. I ran through the hotel and into the locker room. I sighed and tried to find a place to hide, but there was nowhere to run. Next thing I know, I’m being escorted out by security. At this point I might as well make a scene.

“It's okay, everybody! Do not panic. Leave it to the men and women in uniform,” I yelled as I looked up. My eyes met Savannah’s dad’s who looked disgusted by my actions. It was too late to go back now though. “Let's hear it for them. Rose! You look like Lady Liberty.”

My eyes once again fell on Savannah, who laughed at my joke. She looked like she was building up courage for something. I hated when I was right.

“Let go of him!” she yelled. I watched as she ran up to where I was. “You can't boot him! I invited him here. I'm a member of this club.”

“Savannah!” her dad yelled and marched down to where she was. Kie and Pope followed shortly after. When her dad finally made it to her, he grabbed her arm roughly. She pushed him away and then a sound echoed through the silence. If this wasn’t a scene before, it certainly was now. Nicolas Stryker had just struck his daughter in the middle of Midsummers. “You will not embarrass this family anymore.”

I knelt down beside her, expecting her to be in full tears like at the movies. Yet, there were no tears. No emotion was in her eyes as my fingers guided along her cheek. She pushed my hand away and got up, looking at Kie, Pope and I.

“C’mon…” she said quietly. “You guys have somewhere to be right?”

I grabbed her wrist, making her come with us. The only thought going through my head was: I have to get her out of here. I have to make sure she’s okay.

“If you leave, don’t bother coming home,” he dad muttered after her, but she kept walking. I held her wrist tightly and just kept my face forward, not checking on her in the slightest. If I looked at her, I would be filled with rage at everyone. Is this how rich kids were treated too?

The rain was whipping through the air as we drove to the lighthouse. Kie was arguing back and forth with John B over the Sarah Cameron predicament, but Pope and I focused our attention on Sav. She sat silently, staring out the window even though we weren’t moving anymore. Her knees were hugged into her chest and there was no emotion on her face. I felt Pope nudge me and gesture towards her. I gave him a look as if saying no, but there was no arguing with him at this moment. Finally giving in, I went and sat next to her. I couldn’t bring myself to say anything though. She just sat there unfazed by me. I slowly reached up and moved a piece of hair from her face. God, she is so beautiful. Unable to make the words come out, I just pushed her head to lean on my shoulder. “You don’t need to force yourself,” she mumbled and leaned her head back up.

“I’m not,” I said and placed her head down once again. “I’m just trying to be a good friend.”

She kept her head there and closed her eyes, squeezing them tightly like she was going to cry. I felt her wrap her arms around my neck. Her hot breath against my neck made my heart pound.

“Just let me stay like this for a second,” she whispered, pain echoing inside her voice. She clung to me as if she needed me by her side. What she needed was love and if I gave her that, only bad things would follow. Instead of loving her, I reassured her everything was going to be alright, but even that must have been too close, because John B almost died less than an hour later.

___________________________________________________________

Tag List : @jjmaybangme

[6blackfilin9]

Just decided to show that I'm still alive over here

So guess it's LongShitpost Time

A very long post about The Batman's (2004) Penguin

And well, I've been thinking about making it for about a year, so.. here we are, watching me behaving like an easily surprised kid babbling about Oswald and how much I admire him and why

Actually nothin' important or highly moral here. If you still wanna read then just forget it's talk about a character from a kids show, I take this sh🐧t seriously and barely speak English

I like to take a lot of screenshots but can't use here all of them uuUUuUuuUUUUUGH

It's all about the 1st episode of 2nd season of The Batman (mostly, I also mention other my two fav episodes with Oswald)

I like it so much cuz this all just starts with "cat-mouse play" kind of cooperation which leads to "well guess you two will be chillin' in jail in pure mammalian harmony" and ends up with "oh no no no, this is your thievish girl, so you take her back"

"— You two pointy-ears make such a cute couple: his and hers."

"— Hm, made for each other."

I just crack up at this plot line so much

But well, being more serious, this episode unveils some of Oswald's personality traits quite vividly.

Going back to the first episode when he appeared, from the first sight it looked like the most of the time he acts like a mindlessly arrogant jerk who has no clue about what he’s doing, as most of kid-show villains, and tends to lose his temper fast , but if you look closer you’ll see that huge amount of his conduct lines are just a part of the games he plays

Like, he came to the Bruce's party just to take the damn list of guests, that’s the goal

But because of his behavior in public's eyes he wasn't the "strange quiet guy who's been looking around for all the time, than took the list of rich guests from butler and than left while there are robberies of rich people occurring in the city". He was "arrogant snobbish freak who thinks he's some sort of royalty (despite his family lost its place at the top of Gotham's society) so he acts around them as if they were peasants", so, for everyone it looks like the only thing he came for was attention, plus, influenced by negative emotions, people didn't notice such a potty movements as putting some paper in his jacket. I mean none even managed to notice that he stole the motherf🐧cking tray

(Well, for sure Oswald's quite snobbish about his family and it's "blue blood", can’t deny that, though he doesn’t behave that defiantly all the time and the only time when he completely loses it, cracks and explodes about this was when he became enraged hearing Alfred's words whom he took hostage in Bruce's house. That was a very bad day for him)

And come on, Oswald had patience and intelligence to figure out how to teach different predatory birds like ravens and owls, who actually tend to be wayward and even agressive time to time, to steal damn stuff from houses and how to make those f🐧cking badass high-tech umbrellas himself

So, cool man

If that episode showed his enormous arrogance, devotion to his family, resourcefulness, intelligence and hidden potential, this one shows how cunning, selfish, cold, ruthless and at some point insightful he can be

Back to the episode, it literally opens with the start of the strategy competition between Oswald and Selina

First they meet they start with a direct verbal flight for the Cat statue, which Oswald wins. So Selina, willing to get what she wants, desides to get down on a more manipulative subtle level playing love interest

So, of course Oswald gets stunned at first, I guess not every girl treats him this way every day, but he effectively uses this state to figure out his following plan and actions, and immediately starts behaving as a school boy in love.

So the man literally changed his tactics in a couple of seconds and figured out the new plan with the new “puppet” involved. Selina didn’t even notice anything thinking that she managed to hook him up easily so she now can manipulate him as she wants.

(guess Bruce was right, these two are worth each other: both prideful as heck)

So later their game enters the new fervent phase: they both play love interest in front of each other, and Oswald nailes his role just perfectly, making Selina even more convinced of his naivety so she reduces her alertness completely.

But guess he enjoyed this at some point. Like, Selina is a charming beautiful woman able to maintain a pleasant conversation with couple of dry sarcastic notes, so, I think this shade of sincerity helped him to play his part

And well, for quite huge amount of time Oswald makes that devil face with crooked grin which makes him look like a f🐧cking Satan, or just beings grumpy hardened journalist who had seen some shit which makes him look like he's about to have a severe breakdown, but here as he is around Selina in the first part of the episode he's completely calm like a damn fat cat, serious, focused and straight-faced, that's just gorgeous

He cracks up a bit ahead of time just once, when she manages to get the Bird statue

But as it goes to the showdown he doesn’t show even a hint of genuine sympathy or regret, he’s just like “well get reked Selina” and takes English leave

Well, I know it’s a kids show, Bruce saves the day and stuff, but Oz did literally put the bomb in the f🐧cking handcuffs so in case one of the two tries to put them off before the police arrive they actually f🐧cking die. I mean, that's kinda rough. But at the other hand it’s quite nobly but shortsighted of him to leave his enemies alive having a chance to interfere him later

And well, maybe Oswald isn’t good at etiquette, but he have never beaten Selina or any other lady if it came to close fight, while Batman did. Ozzie is a gentleman, shame on ya Bruce

And just to be said, the motherf🐧ucker didn’t even blink when the f🐧king half of his god damn umbrella was cut off right in front of his f🐧cking face. And oh my god, how f🐧cking firm Oswald's grip is that the hella heavy umbrella all made of f🐧cking metal didn't even swayed from the impact in the most stout place. Badass.

And just for a second, Oswald managed to dig to the bottom of that legend about the Bird and Cat statues and started putting the plan into action only after he had found all the necessary information about it (which he had to translate himself from ancient Egyptian), so that the first time he used it, it didn't turn out that he missed something and summoned some ancient shit so now the whole world is in danger (as it happens with villains in movies sometimes).

(The saddest part is that the only single thing that prevented the shit from happening was immense amount of luck. mean Bruce has all kinds of gadgets for literally any situation and knows literally everything just in case. Like, it was very useful of Bruce to study ancient Egyptian just in case someone decides to use egyptian artifacts for evil stuff. And they were so f🐧king lucky the the birds weren’t hungry and didn’t try to peck their faces off while they were climbing the god damn lighthouse which is already hella dangerous even without the maniac birds trying to knock you down)

Well, what do we have so far

Even if Oswald does have some temper issues, he's capable of making some keen psychological tricks, making strategies and keep his head above water, the only thing that actually hampers him is his own pride (like in the episode with Team Penguin. He does have some leadership qualities but he turns from leader into boss quite quickly thinking of himself only)

And, importantly, he is being at some level realistic and objective realizing that none actually takes him seriously.

He understands that for most of the people he’s just a deformed and depraved man with a funny voice, who’s also a descendant of the aristocratic family which ran out of money and lost former authority.

And he uses it for his own good. He couldn't if he didn't, otherwise he'd choose way less twisted ways of behavior

He knew what would the people at the party see in him, so he could predict what behavior would cause the result he needed.

He understood Selina wouldn’t take him as a serious opponent, seeing him as a lonely slow-witted man or whatever, being sure that she can hook him as any other in such an unpretentious way she thought she would be able to make him do all the work instead of her. His awareness made her plans all exposed and clear

But all this negligence combined with his pride does hurt him though, no doubt. There’s a whole episode about it, when he occupied Bruce’s house.

He has his own reasons to envy and hate Bruce, by the way. They both are from rich families, both intelligent, strong and talented, but Bruce is more young and handsome, plus, his family business remained successful. At this point he is much more luckier than Oswald

I mean even if it gets to falling Bruse safely falls on tent and Oswald falls on the dirty ground through hell, fire and high boiling water (I don't give a shit that it had been made for the comedy matters)

Basically, the only thing Oswald is doing is trying to restore not only the family’s honor, but also his own with help of money and growth of his authority. Maybe even to show others and himself that he’s something more than just a garbage. That he's something more than he seems to be at the first sight

But as far as I can see Oswald has never been that type of poor kid with low self esteem crying in a shower with the lights off and who then starts to hide behind the wall of arrogance as he grows up. I mean right in this episode he says that his mother had always told him that he was a handsome one, so I think his parents loved him, maybe even spoiled at some point, and gave him confidence and warmth he needed.

Though well, to be fair, children are cruel, and of course they would react to the child who lookes like a victim of a crazy geneticist's experiment in a very specific way. Some would avoid him no matter what it takes, for sure some would get used to him and communicate normally, but some would mock and bully him severely. So of course he would start to protect himself

But sadly he went in wrong direction, since his confidence became arrogance and his ways became much more twisted and radical

Even as an adult he’ve chosen a really slippery slope, though. He could've chosen a different path, but (as I guess) he couldn't overcome his sense of injustice and his resentment towards people around him, who actually neglected and loathed him. So he just sank in his negative experience and sharpened himself as the lone survivalist, which made him egotistical to the point when he doesn't care about the others and can actually stumble in some situations, being sure he can't be wrong

His actions can't be justified, but they can be explained. Oswald is really very understandable character

So

There is actually no moral of the post

Just me coming to conclusion that The Batman's Oswald appears to be quite deep in the first seasons

Yes, I just wasted about 5 minutes of your life, and you can't take those back

But I can leave you with a question besides frustration

Why in the bloody hell are they holding each other?!

I mean come on

Few hours ago they revealed mutual betrayal, he almost killed her, dropped her on the froor so she couldn't run away with the thing he needed, and now they hold each other flying away on a jet-umbrella

And don’t f🐧cking tell me they do this because of the fear that if one of them falls the other will too

No f🐧cking way

Just imagine flying on the f🐧cking jet-umbrella, you will cling to it so tightly that one day you will take it into your grave with yourself because you will not be able to unclench your f🐧cking fingers after a single flight, but instead of holding the motherf🐧cking umbrella they hold each other

So is it a weird joke or a very thick hint?

Who knows

[doing-all-write]

lighthouse

Ben and reader are doing a puzzle during a thunderstorm. Major fluff ensues. 

Warnings: None! Just lots of fluff and mentions of sex on a One Direction blanket 

Word Count: 3K 

This is my first fanfic I’ve written and posted on here so any comments, feedback, anything! would be much appreciated! 

"Ben."

"No, no. I got this."

"Ben. Seriously. Don't worry about it, it's not even worth it."

"Babe, we've literally been at this for two hours, there has to be -"

"Benny, we've checked EVERYWHERE. That puzzle piece is straight up gone, I'm sorry."

He looked up from his crouched position on the floor, green eyes squinted in determination, "No, this is a fresh puzzle. I refuse to believe this would happen to us."

She rolled her eyes, "Okay but it DID. I think we need to start processing the other stages of grief and hang up the towel on this one."

His profile lit up infrequently as the candle they had lit earlier threw light, and the smell of lavender, haphazardly around the room.  The storm outside building as though sensing Ben's dejection. Thunder rumbled closer, rain beat the roof relentlessly as he turned his head up and stared deep into her own eyes. 

"You really want to give up this easily? After all this time? Sweetheart...what does that say about your commitment to this relationship?"

She scoffed and bit her lips to contain a smile as Ben stared back, barely able to hold back his own smile. 

He wished she would let the smile break free. He did everything in his power to make her smile as often as possible. It was one of his favorite parts of her. When they first met and he encountered her smile for the first time, he knew immediately he was a goner.  

"Well, it means that I know when we're fighting a losing battle which is more than can be said for you-"

"Alright I said ONE time that I preferred DC to Marvel-"

"Which is one time too many! Babe, you were IN a Marvel movie for fuck's sake. I talked about how much I love Captain Marvel for an HOUR on our first date, how could you possibly not think I wouldn't take offense to that?" She crossed her arms and stood up straighter in a futile attempt to make her diminutive frame more intimidating. 

Ben sighed and shook his head as he slowly rose up and stretched his arms over his head, "I know, and honestly I feel like even in the afterlife you'll be giving PowerPoint presentations on why I'm wrong and you're right." 

"Well, yeah. Because I AM right and I DO have a PowerPoint to make that exact point because we had that Passion Party where we had to make a presentation on something we love."

"Yeah, I'm surprised you didn't make it about me." Ben shot back and smiled broadly when he saw her scrunch up her nose and turn her head as she fought back another smile. He knew the right thing to say to fluster her. 

Her index finger coaxed her bangs out of her eyes as she studied Ben, who in turn, was studying her. 

She smiled, cocking her head, "What?"

He smiled back, "What do you mean, 'what'? Can't I just stare at my beautiful girlfriend?"

Her eyes flicked down, then back up to meet his gaze. "You really think so?"

His arms were around her in less than a second.

"Of course I do. Almost as beautiful as I am." he teased as she rolled her eyes and he bent down to plop a kiss onto her forehead. 

She rested her head against his chest and let out a breath. He saw her shoulders sink down as the tension fell from her bones. She had been working so hard at the office. A new project at work had kept her late most days. Coupled with his shooting schedule they hadn't had much time to just, be with each other. 

But they did now. 

And that's when the power flickered off. 

"Oh, you've got to be shitting me." 

"Babe, you know I would never shit my favorite turd"

"I really regret ever telling you about that phrase."

"Why? It's so good, plus Joe thinks it's hysterical so he's picked up on it..face it sweetheart, you're a trendsetter."

"Yeah but why couldn't I have set a trend in, like, respecting women or having empathy?"

Her head rattled as Ben's chest shook with laughter, "I don't know darling but soon you'll be setting those trends, don't worry."

She sighed and rested her chin on his broad chest as she stared straight up at him. His face flickered in and out of the faint light the three wicks of the candle threw into the darkest corners of the room.

Thunder boomed directly overhead. The couch, chair and TV stand were ominous sentinels as lightning lit up the room periodically. 

The floor felt comfortably solid as the apartment shook. What was really solid were the strong arms wrapped around her waist. She absentmindedly ran her hands over his forearms, back and forth. Feeling the fine blond hairs get coarse then smooth, over and over again. 

"What are you thinkin' abou'?"

"Hmm, nothing really. I think I've reached nirvana."

"Really?"

"Yes, I'm totally at one with the universe."

"Hmm, and what does the universe say to you, my love?"

"It says that you should kiss me."

Ben exhaled a laugh that she felt break across her face. She grinned up at him as she stood on tip toes, presenting her lips to be kissed.

Ben took a moment to admire her lips. Her cupids bow, how full they were, the color of a rose. The first few times they had hung out, he assumed she was wearing lipstick but he was surprised to find out the first time she stayed the night that her lips were always that color.

When he had admitted this to her, she had laughed and buried her face in his chest as he wrapped his arms around her. He hadn't told her, but he had fallen in love with her in that moment. 

And here they were. Wrapped up in each other and he was still madly in love with her. 

A sliver of her pupil lit up in the flash of a lightening bolt, "Are you really going to go against the universe like this? You can't afford to give up some sweet karma. You have that audition in a few days and wouldn't it suck if you didn't do well, all because you wouldn't kiss me?"

"Jesus woman, alright, I'll kiss ya. Can't a man just admire his pretty girl?"

"Well, when you put it like that..." she grumbled as Ben's lips met hers. 

One hand stayed glued to his shoulder while the other moved up to cup his cheek. The pad of her thumb smoothed out the tension that lived under his eyes. She could always tell when he was particularly stressed, his eyes carried the stress. The light in them, dimmer than normal, was the surest sign that he needed a night in. Maybe a massage. Definitely a blow job. 

He pulled back and leaned his cheek into her hand. So soft, smelling faintly of the rose scented lotion she had put on earlier ("It's nice to smell nice! Plus then it's easier for Frankie to pick up my scent if I ever go missing" she had explained once as she walked out of the bathroom smelling like a botanical garden.) He grabbed her wrist and pulled the palm up to meet his lips as the thunder crashed around them.

He pressed his lips into the center of her hand (he always felt like his hands were comically large next to hers. Which she always made sure to give him grief about when he carried more glasses than she from the dishwasher.)

She hummed contentedly and smiled at him as he opened his eyes and met hers, dropping one of them into a wink as he lifted his head up and a soft smile cracked open. 

God, he thought, we don't need any lamps. He just needed her smile. That would be enough for him. 

"We should probably find more light sources." she mumbled begrudgingly, not wanting to move from Ben's embrace.

"Hmm, probably. Or..."

"Or...?"

"We just wait this one out and snuggle together?"

"You, Mr. Hardy, are a gentleman AND a scholar. Let's do it. WAIT." She had snatched his hand as he turned away to head toward the couch. 

Ben's brows collapsed in towards each other as he took a step closer to her, "What is it, love? Is there something we forgot to do?"

She shook her head vehemently, reaching up to rake her fingers through her bangs to flatten them back into place (It was that damn cowlick. She could have sworn she had never had one before she had a particularly rough month and showed up on Ben's doorstep with them.) 

"Can we use the One Direction blanket? You NEVER let m-"

"I NEVER let you use it?" He brought up a hand to his chest in a mock horrified gesture, "Need I remind you, I was the one that suggested once we have SEX on it because I know how much you love them-"

"Okay yes, that was an inspired idea. HOWEVER, you don't need to bring it up NOW-"

"Well I felt like my character was coming under ATTACK so, yeah, I'm going to defend myself!"

"Alright well-" she flung her hands up, and bugged her eyes out. Ben knew these signs, it meant that he was right, she just couldn't think of a better argument against him. 

He smirked and walked away from her to the ottoman where he popped the top off to grab the bright pink blanket, emblazoned with all the members names of One Direction. 

(He would never admit this but he was sure clouds wouldn't be as soft as this blanket. And so what if he napped under it sometimes when she wasn't home? That was nobodies business except his.) 

He swung it around his shoulders and she thought that he would make an excellent king in a period piece. It would be all swirling capes, low lighting, hushed British accents talking urgently about who was going to invade who's land first. It would be boring as hell but with Ben in it, she would watch anything. 

He walked over to her, opening his arms wide with the corners clutched in his hands. He engulfed her and her senses were blocked by fuzz, Ben's steady breathing and the feeling of being totally, and utterly, at peace. 

"Alright, I'm going to start walking over to the couch, you're my eyes."

"Oh that's rich. I can barely see over your shoulder when I'm standing on my tip toes, how am I supposed to see when it's dark AND you're blocking my line of sight SIR?" She huffed as her words became clearer as she poked her head out of the cocoon.

He looked down and saw her bangs sticking up all over the place (why she got bangs when she had a cowlick he would never understand), tiny sparks glinting in her eyes as the lavender candle burned lower as time pressed on. He felt incredibly lucky in that moment. To be with the woman he loved was something he didn't take for granted. 

He smiled and pirouetted around so he was looking over her shoulder, "Don't worry love, 'm gonna guide us. Your lighthouse, if you will" He heard a groan from the blanket.

"Oh babe, that's terrible."

"Yeah and you went all soft on the inside, didn't ya?"

The silence was all the answer he needed as he dropped a kiss to the crown of her head. 

"Not my fault my boyfriend knows that I'm always a slut for cliches."

"I'm always a slut for you, my darling"

She gasped, "The height of romance!" as he laughed.

"Alrigh' love, we've arrived at our destination. How would you like to lay down?"

She took a moment. Ben knew she was staring off into the middle distance. It's how he always knew she was far away from him but he always knew she would come back.  

They always came back to each other. 

"Can I be laying on top of your chest?"

"Of course lovie, c'mon" he flipped them so his knees hit the back of the sofa. He untangled the blanket from them and handed it off to her with a solemn face.

"I'm giving this to you and TRUSTING you to spread this over us equally."

"Oh my god Benjamin, it was ONE time I ALLEGEDLY stole the covers and now I'll never be able to live that down."

"It only needs to happen one time!" He protested as he lowered himself onto the sofa, one arm tucked behind his head. She shook her head and clambered on top of him, blanket draped around her shoulders. She arranged the blanket, taking extra care to make sure they were both covered. (Grumbling the whole time about "picky boyfriends" and "defamation of character". She finally stopped when she felt his long fingers tickling her sides.)

She slotted her legs in between his and snuggled her head into his chest as she felt the comforting weight of his arm across her back. She reached her arms up to loosely wrap them around his neck, "I'm glad you're here with me." 

He stared down at her, "Of course, love. I'm glad I'm here too. Dreadfully lonely at my place most of the time." 

She felt her heart flutter in her chest. She suddenly became interested in the grain of Ben's t-shirt as she adopted a mock casual tone, as if the thought had just popped into her head and not a subject she had been desperately trying to broach for months, "It wouldn't be lonely if we moved in together." 

The air stood still. Even the rain seemed like it was falling more softly. The thunder only distant booms as it marched on to the next town to terrorize. 

She was ready to open her mouth and tell him it was a joke, something she had heard in a cheesy rom-com and wanted to see if it would work when suddenly,

"You want to wake up next to this ugly mug every day huh? Even when I'm hungover and grumpy as hell?"

She inhaled sharply and looked into his eyes, hoping beyond hope she wouldn't see any teasing there. 

She found none. Just adoration, a softness, the faintest pinpricks of warm candlelight reflected back to her. Like lights guiding her home. 

"Even your hungover face is obnoxiously cute, I can't even stand it. How can one man be so damn attractive?"

He chuckled as he brought his other arm around to hold her even closer to his body. "One day I'll teach you my secrets."

She hummed and snuggled deeper into his embrace. 

As the thunder rolled away and the rain petered out into a trickle and finally stopped altogether; the sun rose and bore witness to two people, in love, content with the idea that home was no longer a place but a person. 

And luckily, the sun wouldn't tell anyone they were under a One Direction blanket. 

~~~~~

She woke the next morning, feeling lower to the ground than she remembered being upon falling asleep. 

Her eyelids glowed with a warm light as the sun streamed through the blinds. Ben wasn't under her anymore. 

She slowly pushed herself up and smacked her lips together a few times, trying to rid herself of the sleepy taste in her mouth. 

One arm reached towards the sky as the other scratched her side. She blinked sleepily as she took in the room. All of her appliances flashing 12:00, indicating that the power had flickered back on late last night or early this morning. The candle had finally died out, the only sign it had been lit was the lingering scent of lavender.

Her feet hit the floor with a thud, and grasping the blanket around her shoulders to not let any of the warmth escape, she peeled her body up. 

Her muscles loosened with every step as she went over to the table where they had abandoned the puzzle last night. 

As she walked over, she felt something sticking to her foot. She crossed her ankle over her knee and bent down to peel off whatever had been stuck.

She brought the item up and realized, it was the last piece they needed to finish the puzzle.

She bit back a smile and caressed the rounded edges of the piece as her eyes meandered over the puzzle, her exploration paused by a post-it note stuck in the middle;

Went to my place to pick up some things and bring them over. xx

The smile broke free as she leaned over and slotted the last piece into place under the note. As she stood over the table surveying her work she heard the key in the door, Ben's voice wafting through the door as he called out to see if she was awake. 

As she turned to him smiling, he stopped in the threshold, a box in his arms with two Starbucks cups balanced precariously atop. 

They stood there, smiling at each other when Ben finally broke the silence to say,

"Hi, roomie."

She barked out a laugh, "Hi, roomie." She glanced back at the puzzle letting her finger tips drift over the ridges and valleys of the image they had put together, "I found the last piece."

"You did?" He asked as he set the box down and carried both cups over to her, offering her one. 

"Yeah, it was stuck to my foot." She clasped the cup between her hands, letting the warmth seep into her fingers, studying Ben's profile as he examined the image, a slow smile creeping over his face. 

"I bet you hid it from me last night just to convince me to move in with you." 

A thousand half formed words spluttered through her lips as Ben calmly sipped his drink and slipped an arm around her shoulders.

"I-, no! That's not-Ben, I would never-"

A kiss to her temple finally halted the words, "I know my love, I know. I was joking. Though if we're half as good at living together as we are at puzzles then this whole thing will be smooth sailing."

Her head thudded against his shoulder as they stood, examining their handiwork. Sipping their coffee as this day, and the next, and their whole lives together, unfolded before them. 

[spadesinglasses]

Agents of SHIELD (Series)

I finally finally finished the series. Figured a reaction post would be nice to air out all my sentimentality about the show.

Disclaimer btw, throughout this post, I would be writing shit that I hate. It might include character hate from specific situations to seasons. If you don’t want to read people hating on your fave characters, click away. If you want to change my mind about my hate, please just move on, we’ll just be wasting each other’s time.

Years ago I stopped watching AoS around season 5 episode 3.

Just this week I decided to pick it up again from the start. It was a roller coaster of emotion. From having to go through Season 1 again and how different they all are, dealing with Grant and the other arcs.

I’ve rewritten this post so many times now. One time I would be writing so much, even doing it per season only to delete it all and do it per arc, only to again delete it all and start over again.

I don’t know anymore how to write this down. But ya know what, I’ve never been that serious or technical with my reactions. So i might as well just whine about it lol.

So here ya go, a rant.

In my blog I gifed a total of 3 scenes for AoS.

The Spy’s Goodbye.

Hive and Lincoln’s death.

and Enoch’s death.

A lot of scenes made me sob like a fatherfucker but these three was too much.

The Spy’s goodbye scene was a bittersweet good bye. Not seeing Bobbi and Lance anymore was such a devastating reality, but it’s good to know that at least they do not die or sth tragic like what they did to Triplett.

Hive and Lincoln’s death was devastating in a way I wasn’t expecting. Daisy’s acting during that scene was fucking too much. THAT SHIT HURT. Lincoln’s sacrifice was something of an expected scene but god does it not have to be like that.

ALSO Hive just taking it all in, letting his death be is the most unexpected thing there. To him just saying that he just wanted connection, to make the world better was fucking sad. I understand what he said, Lincoln did too. 

Enoch’s death was fucking unappreciated.

His death was silent, he died without his best friend by his side, without Jemma, without even Deke. No, he was left with Daisy and Coulson who if I remember correctly, didn’t even have that much scene with him.

And how he just accepted it and understand that It was a necessary sacrifice was soo fucking bad.

HIS LINE ABOUT ANY OF THEM SACRIFICING THEIR LIFE FOR HIM? AND HIM JUST WAS SO SURE ABOUT IT? IT HURT BECAUSE ITS A LIE.

Y’all can tell me how the crew can do that sacrifice for Enoch, but it won’t change my mind. None of them barely even tried to understand Enoch in more ways than what was just presented in front of them.

Maybe its the curse of being a minor/side character, but that shit was sad. I wonder if that sentence was more for himself, to comfort himself in his death than him being confident about it.

Again, y’all can fight me about it, tell me off how wrong I am but nope nope nope.

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

warning : Mackenzie Daisy Hate 

Now I can’t exactly remember what season or arc it was anymore. If it was during the lighthouse with the kree arc, or after or before, but damn Mackenzie really pissed me off.

His hypocritical holier than thou attitude pissed me so much. He’s a conflicting mess that adjusts his morality based on what’s in front of him. Everyone going against Elena was a fucking hard pill to take because she really was in a different sphere compare to where the others are.

I see her as doing her best to fit in with the group but unfortunately she didn’t just have that same experience with the others to be on the same wavelength as them.

Coulson agreeing with her was a small comfort. But Daisy and Mack and May? Dang that shit hurt.

There was a season where Daisy and Mackenzie annoyed the fuck out of me. I couldn’t stand a scene with them on it. I just can’t remember it much. I think it was after the framework scene.

Now that I finished the entire series, looking back to it, it’s not exactly OOC of them to act that way. But it sure was hell annoying and just ugh.

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

warning : Fitz Hate

This portion would be ranting about how sucky Fitz became after his trauma. I’m not even technically talking about what Fitz did to Daisy with her limiter and his whole “Oh Dark Fitz is doing all this bad shit, oh no wait its me all along” schtick.

I’m talking about how he responded to Deke throughout the series.

He was shitty to him. I’m not sure if its because of his immature ass, his fucking issues with Nazi Fitz, or whatever. He was shitty.

Deke did his best to connect with Fitz in anyway possible, DEKE IS STUCK IN A GODDAMN WORLD HE DOESN’T KNOW SHIT ABOUT, A SIMPLE SOFT WORLD EVEN COMPARE TO HIS OWN WORLD, and for Fitz do be that shitty to him?

I don’t even think there was one scene where Deke and Fitz even did not butt heads off.

YES them bantering, sniping at one another can be funny but damn was it draining after Deke chose to stay behind.

Deke did his best, but let’s face it, only Jemma truly accepted him in the group.

Not fucking Coulson, not fucking Mackenzie or May, not even Daisy and Elena. SPECIALLY not fucking Fitz. I hate what he did to Deke, and I hate all of them for not reaching out more.

I don’t think I’ll ever forgive Fitz ever anymore.

I truly enjoyed his character but after framework, or it was just too much.

Yes, he was traumatized by his own actions in the framework, all of them are but goddamn.

I don’t even want to drag Sousa in this but we can all agree that they all embraced Sousa quicker, and much warmer than how they all did with Deke. 

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

I think the arc I hated the most was the Lighthouse/Kree arc. The crew acted so fucking ignorant despite seeing what the circumstance is. They acted in ways that could’ve endangered the lives of the people who live in the Lighthouse, and yes sure if they solved the problem none of that would’ve happen in the first place but fucking hell they were all so ignorant.

Mackenzie’s shit with the guy with the baby was fucking unnecessary. I hated that scene so much.

Let’s talk about Season 7 which was fucking great.

After the seasons I felt meh about because of reasons written above, special mention to season 5 and it’s shitty ass, let’s finally talk about good stuff.

Let’s talk about young Malick first. Freddy opening that door was a fucking revelation. At this time I didn’t know he’s a big baddie, but goddamn was the actor so fineeeee. Like literally I was on my phone when the scene came up, and when I looked up, my jaw dropped.

ALSO LET’S TALK ABOUT THE COMICAL SEXISM AND RACISM IN THE SEASON. 

Time travel to the past has always been an iffy plot for me. Because I don’t really wanna deal with people being sexist and racist out in public, (pfft as if the 21st century was any better about it)

But they deal with it with a comical spin. Daisy and Mack threatening shitheads back was fucking awesome. THE SCENE WITH THE WHITE DEFENSE GENERAL WAS MAGNIFICENT EVEN. DEKE WAS SO FUCKING DONE WITH HIM. HAHAHA.

In season 7 the editors really had fun changing the title sequence to accomdate each time period. It was really great!

Let’s talk about Daniel Sousa, our cinnamon bun of a man who is the only one that will now hold the title “Man out of Time” now that Steve Rogers time traveled his ass back for some fake ass moving on shit.

UGH I THINK WE ALL FELL IN LOVE WITH DANIEL SOUSA IN THIS SEASON. His go to attitude and just so ready to be with Daisy was fucking great. I love Daisy and him together. After all the shit that Daisy went through, FUCKING FINALLY SHE FINALLY GETS THE HAPPY ENDING SHE DESERVESSSSS.

I want a Daniel Sousa myself. He seems to be like a traditional man who isn’t sexist and racist and homophobic ya know. (side eyeing some traditional male actors who I thought would not be shitty only to be proved wrong by them)

Anywho their kiss was fucking satisfying. And I hope that they will fucking have a great long life with Kora. 

OH I WANT TO MENTION AGENT PIPER AND AGENT DAVIS BEFORE I END THIS REACTION.

THIS TWO DUMBOS ARE FUCKING GREAT. Still not sure about reviving Agent Davis as an LMD but at least they didn’t keep it a secret that he isn’t a real person anymore.

OH SPEAKING OF AGENT DAVIS.

I shipped him one with Agent LT Koenig. I know Davis is already married and probably has a child based on his interaction with Elena but daaang.

ALSO ALSO I WANNA SAY THAT THE ENDING WHERE ELENA IS WITH DAVIS AND PIPER? THAT WAS FUCKING GOOD SHIT.

Earlier I wrote something about Elena trying to penetrate the Coulson group but not exactly being able to?

Honestly, it makes sense to me that Elena is closer to Piper and Davis than she is with any of the core 6. And I truly love the fact that Davis and Piper is Elena’s new squad. I wish they interacted more honestly.

Also I miss Agent Fox, he was a fucking cutie. Agent Keller was also damn hot lol.

I think I’m done. I can’t think of anything more to say. Oh wait maybe the bit where the guy who acted as young Garrett was actually the son of the actor of old Garrett. Lol I was shooked when I watched them have the same smile. It was eerie without knowing they are father and son lol.

Okay im done, I’m happy that I finally finished AoS. I miss the scenes where they still reference the MCU movies but it seemed like after the gravitonium arc, they didn’t do any of it anymore. Sad truly.

[robdelicious]

How Robert Pattinson And Willem Dafoe Made It To The Lighthouse

Out of a swirling fog emerges the prow of a boat, knifing through a foaming sea. Two figures, shadows in the murk, stand silhouetted on the foredeck, confronting the horizon, their backs to us. Presently an island swims into view. No more than a crag, really: lonely, battered, forbidding. Then a lighthouse can be made out, blinking in the gloom.

Now we see the men head-on, a striking dual portrait in high contrast black and white: a double exposure. They are wearing sailors’ caps, greatcoats, and hefting wooden trunks. One is younger, taller, moustachioed. The other, more deeply crevassed, sports a wild beard, out of which pokes a small wooden pipe, like Popeye’s. Theirs are, by any standards, remarkable faces, extreme faces, unyielding as rock yet sculpted with great delicacy, skin stretched tight over jutting bones: sharp noses, strong jaws, deep set eyes. And, oh, the cheekbones! And would you look at all those teeth?

Before anything else — before they are handsome faces, or expressive faces, or famous faces (they are all of those things) — these are photogenic faces. On first inspection they appear impassive, almost blank. And yet an air of foreboding is struck. The older man’s features are fixed in a roguish grimace. The younger man is wary, tense. These might be the faces of a father and son, or brothers separated by decades: hard, thin, stern faces, built for hard, thin, stern lives. Lives filled with mean disappointments, festering resentments, blood feuds. Here are men who have seen trouble before and will see it again. Maybe they’re looking for trouble. Maybe they’ve found it. Is this a dual portrait — or the portrait of a duel?

Whatever has thrown these men together in this place — fate, karma, the thirst for adventure, the desire for escape (in the case of the characters, but perhaps the actors, too?) or (in the case of the actors specifically) the need to stretch oneself artistically, or to challenge oneself physically, or the reputation of the director, or a really good script, or all of these things — one senses they are aware already, as they square up to the stinging reality of their circumstances, that they may have got more than they bargained for. What we can be sure of from the off: there will be weather. There will be conflict. And there will be acting.

The film is The Lighthouse, the second feature film from the 36-year-old American writer-director Robert Eggers, who made a stir with his debut, The Witch. Eggers, who is based in Brooklyn but grew up in rural New Hampshire, is a man possessed of a rare and creepy gothic sensibility. The Witch was an arthouse horror film, a twisted fairytale with the insidious power of a nightmare. It concerned a family of 17th-century puritans banished to the woods of New England, and it involved possessed children, birds pecking at human flesh, and an unholy bond with a goat. It cost $4m to make and earned that money back 10 times over, making Eggers not just a critical darling, but a coming man in commercial cinema.

For The Lighthouse, Eggers is reunited with A24, among other production companies, and with much of his crew from The Witch, including his director of photography, Jarin Blaschke, and composer Mark Korven, who between them do as much as anyone to set the eerie mood. His co-writer is his brother, Max Eggers. The actors were new to him.

Those faces that I have been at pains to describe, then, belong to Robert Pattinson and Willem Dafoe. They play lighthouse keepers on a wind-slapped, rain-lashed rock off the Atlantic coast of North America. The year is 1890. Pattinson is, or appears to be, Ephraim Winslow, the taciturn apprentice. “I ain’t much for talkin’,” he says early on — a statement, like so many in this film of shifting and unfixed identities, that turns out to be not entirely true.

Dafoe is Winslow’s irascible, peg-legged senior partner, Thomas Wake, an experienced “wickie” and a cruel taskmaster, obsessively enraptured by the beacon he tends. “The light is mine!” he declares, mad-eyed. Wake consigns Winslow to the bowels of the building, where the younger man stokes the fire and swabs the floors and nurtures his grievances, while indulging in some quite epic, mermaid-focussed masturbation. Winslow and Wake are to spend four weeks alone on the island before they are to be relieved. But when a storm blows in, the odd couple are stranded — maybe, or maybe not, because a violent act on Winslow’s part has brought down a curse upon them. Slowly, and then in spasms of ultraviolence, they unravel.

The Lighthouse is a twisted buddy movie, a surreal black comedy, a psychological thriller set at the hysterical pitch of Grand Guignol. It was filmed in the spring of 2018 on sound stages in the city of Halifax, Nova Scotia, on Canada’s Atlantic coast, and on location on the tiny fishing community of Cape Forchu, nearby. (“People tend to spend up to 45 minutes here,” Google Maps tells us of Cape Forchu. This fact might, or might not, amuse the filmmakers who spent weeks there, battling Biblical conditions. “It snowed in May,” notes Dafoe.)

With the exception of the Moldovan model Valeriia Karaman, who makes a number of brief, though memorable, appearances in her debut film, Pattinson and Dafoe are the only members of the cast, and their seesawing power struggle is the film’s entire focus, with point of view switching sides like a sail boat’s boom in a storm. Its success or failure rests heavily on their shoulders.

Pattinson and Dafoe are big stars, both. They are also men from different generations, different backgrounds, different countries and traditions. The Lighthouse was not an easy film to make for a number of reasons — the remote location, the raging weather — but not the least of the filmmakers’ challenges were the contrasting approaches of the two actors.

“They really did have incredible chemistry on screen,” director Eggers tells me on the phone, “but it was chemistry through tension. I know there’s been discussion about their different acting techniques and the trying conditions on set…” He pauses. “That couldn’t have been better for the movie.”

If you happened to be out and about in Halifax, in the early spring of 2018, you may have noticed a slender young loner stalking the streets day after day, muttering to himself. Noticed him, and felt concern for his emotional wellbeing. Had you followed him, and listened closely, you might have heard the same words repeated over and over again, in a gravel-voiced near-grunt: “Woyt poyn, woyt poyn, woyt poyn…” Come again? “Woyt poyn, woyt poyn...”

“White pine,” the slender young man enunciates into my voice recorder, 18 months on, in the accent of a nicely brought-up southwest London boy, rather than a 19th-century working man from a highly specific part of Maine. White pine — I’m sorry, woyt poyn — is one of the trees which his character lists when telling his colleague of his past misadventures as a lumberjack. Pattinson developed the accent with the help of a dialect coach and by speaking to a contemporary Maine lobster fisherman on the phone. “It’s one of those accents where if you say one syllable wrong it’s suddenly Jamaican, or something,” he says. “So it took ages.”

Pattinson arrived early in Halifax, before his director and co-star, to psych himself into the role of the saturnine Ephraim. Having approached Eggers after seeing The Witch, in the hope that they might at some point work together, Pattinson had declined the director’s first suggestion, for a part in a more conventional, mainstream film that the director was then developing.

“He said he was only interested in doing weird things,” Eggers says. “So when The Lighthouse came around I said that if he doesn’t find this weird enough, I guess we’ll never work together.”

It’s true, Pattinson says, that at that time, in 2016, he “wanted to do the weirdest stuff in the world.” (Mission accomplished, Rob!) Still, he spent a good deal of time agonising over whether or not to take the role in The Lighthouse. “I remember reading it and I thought it was very funny, but I was also thinking, ‘I don’t understand how the tone would work?’”

When Dafoe signed on, Pattinson was excited. “I knew Willem could bring that kind of anarchic energy,” he says, “but I really didn’t know how I would do it at all.” Dafoe, he says, in one of his many moments of self-effacement, “has one of those faces where he can literally sit in any room in the world, doing almost nothing, and it’s fascinating to watch. Whereas I sort of blend in with the chair I’m sitting on.”

Before filming began, the pair spent a week in rehearsals. Pattinson dislikes rehearsing, preferring to do his experimenting on camera. “It was very, very frustrating,” he says. “I just couldn’t achieve what they wanted me to achieve in that room. Robert [Eggers] was getting furious with me because I was just sitting there, completely monotone the whole time. He could not stand it.” Pattinson tells the story with no rancour whatsoever. He knows it sounds funny, but it wasn’t at the time. “I just don’t know how to perform it until we’re performing it. By the end of the week, I’m thinking, ‘I’m going to get fired before we’ve even started’. I definitely feel like, with the rehearsal period, we were quite angry with each other by the end of it. Literally, we’d finish for the day, I’d fucking slam out the door and go home.

“I knew that there was diminishing expectations of me throughout the week of rehearsals,” he says. “I definitely became an underdog. They’re like, ‘Wow, this was a big mistake. He’s really shit.’”

Pattinson and I talk on a sweltering August morning, in the comfort of a private members’ club in west London, near the flat he’s rented for the summer on Airbnb. (He’s in town to shoot Christopher Nolan’s new sci-fi spectacular, Tenet, about which he is permitted to tell us, with fulsome apologies, precisely nothing.) Rather than swigging kerosene and chaining tobacco, as in the film, he orders a banana smoothie, and when he’s finished that, an apple juice. Occasionally he sucks on a Juul.

Pattinson is 33. He grew up in affluent Barnes, the son of a dealer in vintage cars and a model booker. More or less untrained — unless you count some teenage am-dram — at 19 he was cast as Cedric Diggory, the hero’s doomed frenemy, in Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire. But his Hollywood breakthrough arrived in 2008. Twilight was a teen B-movie, but it became a pop cult phenomenon, spawning four sequels of diminishing charm, making an otherworldly $3.3bn worldwide and creating megastars of its leads, Pattinson, who played a sexy vampire, and Kristen Stewart, who became his girlfriend on screen and IRL, as they say, before, in an unseemly frenzy of prurient salivating, she became his ex-girlfriend.

While for some he may always be the pallid tween heartthrob, in the six years since the final instalment of Twilight, Pattinson has worked hard to reinvent himself. His post Young Adult years have been cussedly uncommercial and impressively adventurous. In that period, Pattinson has worked with some of cinema’s most fêted directors: David Cronenberg, Anton Corbijn, James Gray, Werner Herzog, the Safdie brothers. Most recently, he was an intergalactic castaway in High Life, an enjoyable, if bonkers, dystopian sci-fi from the French director Claire Denis.

“Even in the Twilight years I never said, ‘Oh, he’s just a pretty boy,’” says Robert Eggers. “I always thought there was something interesting about him. I could tell that he wanted to be a great actor. And in the past years it’s been very clear that he is.”

The attraction of more avant garde or outré material, Pattinson says, is it allows him to let rip in a way he never could in real life. Pattinson compares the experience of acting in a film like The Lighthouse with joyriding. “A lot of the movies I’ve done recently, you literally feel as if you’ve stolen a car and you’re kind of careening through stuff.” (Such are the fantasies, perhaps, of a boy who grew up with a father who imported American sports cars for a living.)

In person, Pattinson is a mild-mannered English actor, albeit a slightly eccentric one. On set, however, “because you’re playing a mad person, it means you can sort of be mad the whole time. Well, not the whole time, but for like an hour before the scene.”

What does he mean by being mad? “You can literally just be sitting on the floor growling and licking up puddles of mud.”

This sounds figurative. He really means it. On The Lighthouse, in the scenes in which his character is meant to be drunk on kerosene (there are quite a few of them), he was “basically unconscious the whole time. It was crazy. I spent so much time making myself throw up. Pissing my pants. It’s the most revolting thing. I don’t know, maybe it’s really annoying.”

It’s hard not to speculate that yes, it might be really annoying. “There’s a scene,” Pattinson remembers, “where Willem’s kind of sleeping on me and we’re really, really drunk and I felt like we’re completely lost in the scene and I’m sitting there trying to make myself gag and Robert [Eggers] told me off because Willem’s looking at him going: ‘If he throws up on me, I’m leaving the set.’ I had absolutely no idea this whole drama was unfolding.”

In some ways, Pattinson concedes, all this acting out is a reaction to his terrifying early super-fame. He speaks of himself in the second person when talking about it. “For a long time you’re very self-conscious in the street. You’re hiding a lot, so [on set] you have an excuse to be wild. It’s like being an adrenaline junkie. And also, when you don’t know how to do something, why not just run headfirst into a wall? See what happens. I haven’t got any other ideas.”

On The Lighthouse, he spun in circles before each take, to make himself off-balance. He placed a stone in one of his shoes, to increase the already considerable physical hardship. He can see — from my disbelieving laughter, apart from anything else — that all this strikes non-actors as funny, even preposterous. It may be that it sounds this way to some actors, too.

The most famous story (possibly apocryphal) of an encounter between an adherent of the Method — in which actors don’t so much pretend to be someone else as try to temporarily become them — and a more traditional, outside-in actor, who puts on costume and makes believe, is Laurence Olivier’s withering put-down of Dustin Hoffman, when they were working together on John Schlesinger’s Marathon Man. At some point, Hoffman, a graduate of the Actors Studio, confided in the great English Shakespearean that, in order to bring the correct verisimilitude to a scene in which his character has not slept for three consecutive nights, he had forced himself to stay awake for the same period. “My dear boy,” Olivier is said to have smoothly replied, “why don’t you just try acting?”

Eggers says that any suggestion of that kind of relationship between Dafoe and Pattinson is wide of the mark. “The idea that Dafoe is outside-in and Rob is this method actor, that’s not the case. I think maybe they lean the tiniest bit into those directions but they’re both combinations of things.”

ESQUIRE: https://www.esquire.com/uk/culture/a29300396/robert-pattinson-willem-dafoe-interview/

[bomberqueen17]

did he just say ‘making fuck’??

Sorry, I’ve realized that when these replying-to-replies posts crosspost to DW they’re basically incomprehensible, but if I try to add any formatting to make it obvious when I’m quoting a reply and when I’m actually replying to it, the whole thing just truncates. So... apologies, my DW lovelies, if you click through you can see I’ve got it all carefully blockquoted!

sugarspiceandcursewords replied to your post “replying to replies witcher playthrus edition”

Oh shit I have not heard or even thought about “Ber-SER-KER!!” in years and now I’m cackling. “Did he just say ‘making fuck’?”

God that movie is so good. I rented it from the indie video store that also had all the anime, and a bunch of friends lay on my bed with me and watched it on my computer, including I think both DF and my Dude before he was my Dude and was visiting for a weekend. It’s a weird lil memory to have! oh college. those were. such weird days. I can’t imagine now trying to cram eight or nine full adults into a double bed and having it not be weird, but that was just sort of how we lived once we didn’t own a TV anymore. (Which means it’d’ve been senior year, so, 2001, in the winter, which yeah, that’s when Dude came to visit his former roommate who was then my roommate who is now, fun fact, an NCAA fencing coach at a large university, and that’s when I met Dude.)

nogling replied to your post “now it’s time for that leisurely swim in the sewer outlet”

I cannot tell you how many times Geralt fell to his death off the top of that stupid, stupid lighthouse before I said fuck it and used a god-mode mod to make him immune to falling damage.

ohhhh hey. (WAIT does that mean you HAVE to fight the wyvern from the tower top???? Oh my god that was ridiculous.) You know, I have no idea how mods work but what I thought was really funny was that, I don’t remember what I’d Googled, but I found a  predictable thing about a mod someone had made so Geralt would be Super Shredded, but then I immediately found another mod someone had made to give Geralt a more realistic “dad bod”, and I was like, you’re all right, modding community, I don’t understand you at all but you’re all right. 

stele3 replied to your post “now it’s time for that leisurely swim in the sewer outlet”

There’s a barber on the right-hand side of Novigrad who is very drunk all the time and if you go to him for a haircut the first time he gives you something you did NOT ask for. You can also give Geralt short hair, a mustache, and a

soul patch. (Accidentally clicked Reply too soon.) it is a very Cursed Look and I recommend you get it at least once.

shit I gotta talk DF into Drunk Barber. Probably funnier if I don’t tell him why first. We’ll see if I’m up to the challenge.

I dunno I’m hard-pressed to think of a more Cursed Look than the muttonchops-and-mullet look DF originally went with.

brotherhoodoftheslice replied to your post “now it’s time for that leisurely swim in the sewer outlet”

Hahaha! The fork-throwing line is straight from a short story, except the problem there wasn't that no one could see him hit the rat, but rather how unnerving it was that he could 1. Obviously see in the dark, and 2. Throw random cutlery that hard and accurately. Geralt: Check this out :D Humans: O_____O Geralt: :C

wait you mean people aren’t super impressed with your freaky mutant powers??? Oh Geralt :( :( :( Poor baby just wants friends and the whole time he was growing up showing off your Freaky Mutant Powers was how you socialized, how’s he to know that’s not something outsiders are going to find awesome???

Them not being able to see that he’d succeeded is much funnier, though, I get it.

akilah12902 replied to your post “now it’s time for that leisurely swim in the sewer outlet”

Radovid isn't in charge of Novigrad, but he likes and supports the church of the Eternal Fire, so they (who are doing the mage burnings) have free reign anywhere in places ruled by him. And the church is centered in Novigrad. also, sorry, do go ahead and do Novigrad dreaming; there's a point where the quests diverge, and you get a Main Quest to try and find Dandelion, you wanna do all that first (like uh, if you were wondering where the point of no return was)

ALSO: Geralt! He's just so happy to talk to a friend!

Gotcha. And poor bb. He’s so lonesome, he’s just so lonesome. 

Oh my gosh now I kind of want to mash him up with the puppeteers in Martha Wells’ Wheel of the Infinite-- her Badass Solo Character (who is a grandmotherly devil-priestess) has interrupted her Solo Sulking Journey Across The Wilds by falling in with a troupe of itinerant puppeteers and it’s fantastic because the whole plot winds up set in motion because she has to go forage for an herb to make a medicine for a sick toddler and in the process rescues the Hot Young Barbarian Swordsman In Distress from certain death, and she’s this utterly terrifying badass and all the itinerant puppeteers love her and now there’s this barbarian swordsman stalking them in order to repay the life debt he owes her (and occasionally inappropriately bathing in temple pools and such because as a barbarian he doesn’t know better), and it’s just such a good first chapter to a novel. I wish more people had read that book, doing a rewrite of parts of it with Geralt as Maskele and Jaskier as the main puppeteer guy would be so entertainingly rewarding. But nobody’s read that book, which is a fucking tragedy and entirely a failure of marketing. (The first edition made the dark-skinned protagonist have green skin because alien is apparently more marketable than Black, and the second edition flipped the cover so the barbarian swordsman, who is white, was on the front cover and the protagonist was on the back. Sigh.)

mikkeneko replied to your post “replying to replies witcher playthrus edition”

I plan to play the game as soon as I have enough free time so I appreciate these posts!

Oh good! I hope this is in any way useful. There are like, way more comprehensive walkthrough strategies available of course, and even great videos that give you a wonderful idea of what to expect, but I figured-- well, this is how I’m getting entertainment and if I write it down it’s even more entertaining, y’know? I’m going for atmosphere more than accuracy though so like, don’t necessarily take my word at 100%, my notes aren’t all that careful. 

akilah12902 replied to your post “replying to replies witcher playthrus edition”

re: the eyes, that may just be the cutscene or something? I recall the full black eyes the one time I wound up with a ton of toxicity

It could just be you gotta hit a particular percentage. and DF hasn’t devoted any skill points to increasing how much toxicity he can take; I think during the convo the lil 💀 slider bar was a bit over halfway full but not, like, super close to the top, and I don’t think he’s set it up to take any more than baseline. His health bar was a funny color too.