#please I’m begging the theater gods

[gatorinator]

HELP I’m trying to read the play version of “The Ocean at the End of the Lane” and I cannot for the life of me find a script. Please I’m begging anyone where can I find this play.

[the-lesbian-orpheus]

I love and cherish by edits and stuff of my dramatic high fantasy guys, my minecraft guys, my silly little monsters, my dramatic sci-fi guys, my animated guys

But can we please also normalize making edits and stuff of like regular ass sitcom guys

Like where are the badass edits of Rosa Diaz, the crush edits of Tahani al Jamil, the ship edits of David and Patrick, the comfort edits of Chidi Anagonye

I say this as a person who lives in fantasy and whimsy content

I feel like we deserve both

(Ps I rambled a lot about this in the tags so maybe check them out :3 👀👀👀)

[milo-is-rambling]

We are cancelling having a crush for forever bc I just remembered the concept of eye candy exists

[literaleyekon]

MOVIES N FLIRTING D.A

Pairing: [daniela avanzini x fem!reader]

Genre: [fluff, flirting]

Word Count: [2.9k]

Notes: [i hate children :3]

Now Playing: [the perfect pair / beabadobee]

reader is spending the worst afternoon ever at the movie theaters, daniela smiles and flirts through it all.

You were so not built for this.

Standing in the middle of the concession line, surrounded by chatter, sticky floors, and the faint smell of burnt butter, you glared at the oversized menu like it personally offended you. All the while, your sister and her swarm of 12-year-old gremlins were huddled back by the ticket counter, giggling about God knows what.

“It’s just one movie,” your mom had said. “They’ll behave, I promise.”

Lies. Absolute lies.

The impatient line inched forward, and you shuffled with it, your face set in an expression of thinly veiled irritation. As you reached the front of the line, the bright-eyed worker behind the counter greeted you.

“Hey there! What can I get for you?”

You blinked, caught off guard by her sunny tone. She looked about your age, with a warm smile and a playful glint in her eyes. Her nametag read Daniela, but she didn’t carry the same fake enthusiasm you’d expect from someone working a shift at a movie theater.

“Uh, large popcorn. No butter,” you muttered, digging into your pocket for crumpled bills.

“Big order,” she teased, sliding a bucket toward you with practiced ease. “Need drinks with that? Maybe a stress ball for backup?”

You stared, the smallest hint of a smile breaking through your annoyance. “I’ll take four sodas and an escape route if you have one.”

Daniela chuckled as she punched the order into the register. “Sorry, no escape routes here. But tell you what—you keep coming back, and I might just find one for you.”

You raised an eyebrow at her as she handed over the drinks.

Was she flirting with you? Or was that just some top-tier customer service? Either way, you didn’t have the brain space to think too hard about it—not with the popcorn bucket balancing precariously on your arm and the sodas clinking together in your hands.

“Thanks,” you said quickly before heading back to the group of chaos incarnate.

You barely made it back to your seat when your sister’s friend, Maddie, tugged on your sleeve with all the urgency of someone whose life depended on snacks.

“Uh, we forgot the Sour Patch Kids,” she said, giving you the wide-eyed look only a 12-year-old could pull off convincingly.

You stared at her for a long moment. “You couldn’t have mentioned that five minutes ago?”

She shrugged, unbothered. “I didn’t want them then.”

With a sigh so heavy it could’ve powered the movie theater’s air conditioning, you trudged back to the concession stand. The line was shorter this time, but as you reached the front, Daniela’s grin greeted you like she’d been waiting for this exact moment.

“Back already?” she asked, leaning forward slightly on the counter.

“Forgot something,” you replied curtly, keeping your expression neutral.

She tilted her head, her eyes sparkling with barely concealed amusement. “Let me guess—Sour Patch Kids?”

You froze. “How’d you know that?”

“Lucky guess,” she said, her grin widening as she grabbed a bag and set it on the counter. “Or maybe I’m just psychic. You think about that?”

You couldn’t stop the corner of your mouth from twitching upward. “Right. Psychic movie theater employee. That’s a new one.”

She chuckled, ringing up your order. “Hey, you never know. Maybe I’m here to make your night a little easier.”

You didn’t have a response to that. Instead, you handed over the money, took the candy, and muttered a quick, “Thanks,” before heading back to your seat.

You barely sat down when one of the other kids leaned over. “Can we get nachos?”

You stared at her like she’d just asked you to explain quantum physics.

“Seriously?”

“Please?” she begged, her voice dripping with faux sweetness.

By the time you dragged yourself back to the counter, Daniela looked like she was actually holding back a laugh this time.

“Nachos?” she guessed before you could say a word.

You sighed. “Yep.”

“Thought so.” She started prepping the order but kept glancing at you out of the corner of her eye. “So, how’d they rope you into this gig? Babysitting, I mean.”

“My mom,” you replied flatly. “She promised they’d behave.”

Daniela snorted. “Bold of her.”

“Right?”

She slid the nachos across the counter with a wink. “Well, at least they’re keeping you busy. I’ll see you again in ten minutes?”

“God, I hope not,” you muttered, but the smallest smile broke through as you turned away.

By the time the movie hit its halfway point, you’d made four more trips to the stand. Each time, Daniela’s teasing comments got a little bolder, but you couldn’t tell if it was just her personality or if she was actually flirting. You weren’t exactly an expert on this kind of thing, especially when you were on the edge of losing your patience.

“More popcorn?” Daniela asked, raising an eyebrow when you reached the counter again, the popcorn bucket somehow lighter than it had been the last time.

“Yeah,” you muttered, running a hand through your hair. “And can you add some butter this time? I’m starting to think my soul is being drained from all these trips.”

Daniela leaned forward, her eyes twinkling with mischief. “I’d say I’m sorry, but you keep coming back. So, I guess I’m doing something right, huh?”

You couldn’t help the laugh that escaped you. “I don’t know. Maybe it’s just that I’m a glutton for punishment.”

Her smile widened as she grabbed the popcorn and dumped a generous amount of butter on top. “You sure you’re not just looking for an excuse to see me again?”

You blinked at her, momentarily thrown off guard. Was she being serious, or was this just her usual way of talking? You opened your mouth to respond, but the words didn’t come out right, so instead you just grabbed the popcorn and shrugged.

“Thanks,” you muttered, trying to act nonchalant, but the heat in your cheeks was undeniable.

The movie finally started to pick up pace, but just as you thought you might be able to relax, your sister’s friend, Bella, tapped you on the shoulder.

“Hey, can you get me another drink?” she asked in that sweet, high-pitched voice that made you feel like a human vending machine.

Your eyes narrowed. “Really? I just got you a drink like ten minutes ago.”

“Please?” she begged, practically pouting.

You groaned, a deep sigh escaping your lips. It was official—you were never going to make it through the movie. With one last look at the screen, you hauled yourself back out of your seat and headed for the concession stand.

Daniela was already there when you arrived. “Back again?” she asked with a teasing smile.

You shot her a tired look. “I swear, you and I are becoming way too familiar with each other.”

She raised an eyebrow. “You sure you don’t want to hang out more?”

You froze. Did she just say that? “What?”

She laughed at your confused expression. “I’m kidding. But hey, a little more time together wouldn’t be the worst thing, right?”

You blinked, unsure of how to respond. “I—uh—yeah, sure.” You cleared your throat awkwardly, reaching for your wallet to pay for the drink.

Daniela’s fingers brushed yours as she handed you the soda. “On the house,” she said with a wink.

You made it back to your seat, the drink in hand, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that Daniela’s comments were starting to stick in your head more than they probably should. Every time you returned to the counter, it felt like there was a little more energy behind her teasing, like she was genuinely trying to keep you there longer than necessary.

Still, you didn’t let it show. You couldn’t afford to let yourself get distracted—not with your sister’s entourage of hyperactive tweens demanding more snacks.

As the movie dragged on, so did your trips to the stand. But on the eighth time, something was different.

As you approached the counter, you could already see Daniela’s familiar grin. This time, though, her eyes lingered just a little longer than usual, and you couldn’t quite figure out why.

“Back again?” she asked, her voice light, but with that underlying warmth that made your heart skip a beat.

You leaned on the counter, exhaling in frustration. “I know, I know. I’m sorry. I must be the worst customer ever.”

Daniela raised an eyebrow, setting the popcorn refills down in front of you. “Nah, you’re not the worst. Not even close.” She slid them over with an easy motion. “You’re actually kind of a regular now.”

You chuckled dryly, grabbing the popcorn. “Right. I should just move in.”

She grinned, her eyes glimmering with something you couldn’t quite read. “Well, that would make things a little easier, don’t you think?”

For a moment, you froze, and then the words spilled out before you could stop them. “I’m sorry. I know it must be annoying, having to see me come back for refills all the time. You must be so sick of me by now.”

Daniela shook her head, a soft laugh escaping her lips. “Honestly? It’s fine. I like having you around.” Her voice was casual, but there was something else in it now—a subtle warmth that made you second-guess everything.

Before you could respond, she slipped a folded piece of paper under the edge of the popcorn bucket, hiding it from view.

“Here,” she said, as if nothing was unusual. “In case you need anything else.”

You looked down at the bucket, but before you could react, you turned to leave.

The movie finally finished, and you were more than ready to escape. You stood up, stretching your legs, hoping you could make it to the exit without any more distractions. But of course, as you passed the counter, Daniela was there.

“Leaving already?” she asked with a playful smirk.

You nodded, trying to keep your cool, but your heart was beating way too fast. “Yeah, I’m done. Gotta get these kids home.”

“Well,” she said, her voice dropping just a little. “Maybe next time we can hang out outside of here. I’d love to see you again.”

You hesitated for a moment, trying to find the right words. But before you could say anything, she winked at you, and the weight of her gaze made your stomach do a little flip.

“Take care,” she said softly, a smile tugging at her lips.

You stumbled a bit, your breath catching in your throat. “Yeah… take care.”

As you walked away, your hand brushed against the popcorn bucket. Curious, you peeked inside, and to your surprise, you saw the folded paper at the bottom.

In case you need something else ;) - Dani

A number on the top right corner?

You blinked at it, the note in your hand suddenly feeling like the heaviest thing in the world.

And just like that, you realized—maybe, just maybe, you weren’t the only one who had been looking for an excuse to come back.

[greengoblinswifey]

hey, babes! can you make fratboy!nick but a theater/movie geek please i’m begging. i’m talking like him spewing facts, giving commentary, theories, minor details, and he even wants to recreate an iconic love scene with you. like the pottery scene from ghost it would eat down so hard. that’s if you’re up for it!

Fratboy!Nicholas Chavez x Fem!Reader

warnings— nicholas being a cutie, fluff, L bombs, unprotected sex, praise kink, creampie.

a/n— i love this, def need more fratboy!nicholas requests🤭hope you enjoy <3

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿

Nicholas led you upstairs to his room at his parents’ house for the first time, his hand wrapped around yours, his grin wide as he opened the door. “Okay, don’t judge me,” he said, stepping aside to let you in.

The room was big and full of character. Shelves lined the walls, filled with DVDs, Blu-rays, and vintage cassettes, alongside stacks of theater playbills. A massive movie poster for Titanic hung above his bed, while smaller posters for Scream and Beetle Juice were tacked up on the other walls.

Your eyes widened as you ran your fingers over the spines of the cassettes. “Nick, you have so many movies. This is crazy.”

“It’s a collection, not just movies,” he corrected with a playful smirk, leaning against the doorframe. “I’ve got everything. Horror, romance, thrillers, musicals, you name it. This right here is a lifetime of excellent taste.”

You laughed, pulling out a cassette with a faded cover. “Pretty Woman? Really?”

“Are you kidding me?” He stepped forward, taking it from your hand and holding it like it was precious. “This movie is a masterpiece. Julia Roberts practically redefined what a rom com could be. The jewelry box scene? Improvised. That’s the kind of magic you can’t plan.”

“You’re such a geek baby,” you teased, putting the cassette back.

“And proud of it,” he said, grinning as he reached for a DVD case. “This? The Notebook. I dare anyone to watch Noah and Allie kiss in the rain and not believe in love.”

“You’re serious about all of this, huh?”

“Dead serious,” he said, his voice softening. “Movies and theater are everything to me. They’re not just entertainment, they’re moments. Like, take Phantom of the Opera. The chandelier crashing, the Phantom singing Music of the Night, it’s pure, raw emotion. And horror? Don’t even get me started on Halloween. That single shot of Michael Myers standing behind Laurie Strode? Chills. Every time.”

You couldn’t help but smile as you traced your fingers over another row of his horror DVDs. “Do you ever stop thinking about this stuff?”

“Nope,” he said, unapologetic. “And I’ll die on this hill, Dirty Dancing is the greatest romance of all time. That final lift? Cinema history babe.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “You’re so over the top, Nick.”

He grinned and took your hand, tugging you toward a small box beneath his bed. “If you think that’s over the top, wait till you see this.” Inside the box were old theater programs and ticket stubs. “This is everything I’ve been to, plays, musicals, even little community theater stuff. My first was The Lion King on Broadway. I was like ten, and when Mufasa appeared in the stars? I cried like a baby.”

You leaned against him, flipping through the programs. “It’s kind of adorable how passionate you are about this.”

“Adorable?” He raised an eyebrow. “I’ll take it. But, for the record, I’m also very serious about recreating iconic movie scenes. You, me, and a pottery wheel? Ghost style. It’s happening.”

“Oh my god,” you said, laughing. “You’re obsessed with that scene.”

“Because it’s perfect!” he said, his hands flying. “It’s intimate, romantic, and ridiculously sexy. Tell me you wouldn’t want to try it.”

You raised an eyebrow. “You don’t even own a pottery wheel, baby.”

“Not the point,” he said, taking your hand. “Come with me.”

The two of you ended up in his parents’ basement, where a table was covered with an old sheet, and a small hunk of clay sat in the center. Nicholas grinned as he set up a Bluetooth speaker, scrolling through his phone. “If we’re doing this, we’re doing it right.”

A moment later, Unchained Melody began to play.

“Nick,” you said, laughing as he dragged a stool over. “You planned this?”

“Of course,” he said, motioning for you to sit in front of the clay. “This is the ultimate love scene. Come on.”

You sat down, shaking your head as he moved behind you, his arms slipping around your waist to guide your hands to the clay. His touch was warm, his breath brushing against your ear as he whispered, “Relax. Just follow my lead.”

Your boyfriend’s arms stayed wrapped around you as he guided your hands over the clay, his voice low and playful. “You know this is how it starts in Ghost.”

You laughed softly, turning your head slightly to look at him. “Are you going to start quoting it?”

“Oh, absolutely.” He grinned, leaning in to nuzzle your neck before his voice dropped into a soft, dramatic tone. “‘It’s amazing, Molly. The love inside, you take it with you.’”

You rolled your eyes, giggling. “You’re so corny.”

“And yet,” he whispered, his lips brushing against your ear, “you’re still here. You love me.”

He wasn’t wrong. His warmth pressed against your back, his hands still covering yours as the clay spun beneath your fingers. The intimacy of the moment, coupled with the deep sound of his voice and the soft strains of Unchained Melody playing in the background, sent a shiver through you.

Nicholas noticed. “Cold?” he asked teasingly, his lips moving to the curve of your shoulder.

You shook your head, your voice barely above a whisper. “No.”

“Good,” he murmured, his hands leaving the clay to slide down to your waist. He turned you slightly on the stool, his gaze locking with yours. His brown eyes were soft, holding the weight of the moment.

“You’re not even paying attention to the clay anymore,” you teased, your voice shaky as his hands rested firmly on your hips.

“That’s because I’m paying attention to you,” he said, leaning in closer. His lips found yours, gentle at first, before deepening the kiss. His fingers went to your sides, pulling you closer as he whispered, “You’re so beautiful.”

You couldn’t stop the smile that tugged at your lips as he kissed you again, his passion matching the way his hands explored your waist and ass.

“Nick,” you moaned when his lips trailed back to your neck, planting soft kisses along your skin.

“Mm?” he hummed against you, his voice warm and teasing.

“This isn’t exactly like Ghost anymore,” you said, laughing softly as your hands tangled in his hair.

“Better,” he murmured, pulling back just enough to meet your eyes. His lips quirked into a mischievous grin. “Way better.”

His lips found yours again, soft, as he cupped your face. The clay on your hands was forgotten, smudges left on both of you, but neither of you cared. The air around you felt hot, the faint strains of Unchained Melody still playing in the background.

“Are you okay with this?” Nicholas whispered, his forehead resting against yours, his breath warm against your lips.

You nodded, your hands sliding up to his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your fingertips. “I’m okay baby,” you said softly.

“Tell me if you’re not,” he murmured, brushing a strand of your braids behind your ear. His hands lingered on your waist, his thumbs stroking gentle circles.

“I will, baby,” you assured him, your voice steady, though your pulse raced.

“I love you,” he said, the sincerity in his voice making you feel like the only person in the world.

Your cheeks warmed as his hands moved from your waist to grab your ass guiding you closer. His kisses deepened, slow and steady, leaving no doubt about how much he wanted you.

His lips found their way to your neck again, pressing gentle kisses along your skin. “You’re perfect,” he whispered against you, his voice thick with emotion.

Your hands slid to his shoulders, feeling the strength there as he leaned into you. “Nick,” you whispered, his name slipping out like a prayer.

“Yes, baby?” he murmured, pulling back just enough to look into your eyes, his thumb brushing against your cheek.

“I want you so bad. Please fuck me,” you admitted, feeling a shiver run down your spine as his gaze softened further.

“God, you’re so beautiful when you’re needy like this,” he said, his lips curling into a small smile before kissing you again, his hands caressing your ass.

He stood, lifting you effortlessly in his arms. “Come with me,” he said softly, carrying you toward the couch in the basement. He sat down, pulling you gently onto his lap, your legs straddling him.

“You’re so beautiful my love,” he whispered, his hands sliding up to cup your face again. “I want to make you feel good. Tell me if I’m doing too much, okay?”

You nodded, your fingers tangling in his hair as you leaned in to kiss him. “I trust you baby, you know that,” you said softly, feeling his hands settle on your hips.

He groaned softly, his head falling back as you pressed kisses along his jawline. “You’re driving me crazy, you know that?” he murmured, his hands squeezing your waist.

Your laughter was soft as you leaned back to look at him. “Good,” you teased, feeling more confident under his gaze.

“You’re the most perfect girlfriend ever,” he said again, his voice full of awe as his hands roamed your back, pulling you closer. “You feel so good in my arms.”

Nicholas moaned as you straddled him, your short dress riding up your thighs as you settled onto his lap. His hands slid up, gripping your hips, his breath already coming in shallow gasps. “You’re going to kill me,” he whispered, his lips brushing against yours.

“You’ll survive,” you teased, your fingers slipping into his sweats to pull out his hard and leaking cock.

When your hands touched his cock, he hissed softly, his hands gripping your hips. His fingers moved to the hem of your dress, hiking it higher as his dark eyes met yours. “Do you have any idea what you do to me?”

You smiled, leaning in close enough for your lips to brush his ear. “Why don’t you show me?”

His breath hitched as he slid your thong to the side, his movements hurried yet careful. He reached down to position his cock, his jaw tightening as you took him and guided him to your entrance. The stretch was slow and deliberate as you sank down onto him, both of you moaning softly at the sensation.

“We don’t have much time before my parents get back,” he murmured, his voice thick with urgency, his hands gripping your waist.

“Then we’d better make it count,” you said with a sly smile, rolling your hips and eliciting a low, guttural moan from him.

You began to move, bouncing on his cock, your hands braced on his shoulders before one slid to wrap around his neck. His head fell back, his hands sliding to grip your ass as you picked up the pace. “Y-you feel better than Heaven,” he gasped, his words breaking apart as his hips bucked instinctively.

“Just sit there and take it,” you whispered, your tone dripping with authority as you ground your hips against him.

“Yes, ma’am,” he moaned, his hands squeezing you tighter. “Anything you say.”

His praises spilled from his lips between moans, his eyes locked on you as though he couldn’t get enough. “You’re so perfect, so beautiful. I can’t get over how good you feel.”

You smirked, leaning forward to press a kiss to his jawline. “You’re doing so well for me, baby,” you murmured, your voice sending shivers through him.

His breathing grew more ragged, his grip on you desperate. “I— I’m close," he stuttered, his head falling forward to rest against your shoulder. “Please, baby. I’ve been your good boy. Please let me cum.”

His tone made your heart race as your own orgasm began to build. “Cum with me,” you urged, your voice soft but commanding as you wrapped your arms around him, pulling him closer.

When your climax hit, it felt like a wave crashing over you, leaving you breathless and moaning. Nicholas followed moments later, his body tensing beneath you as he moaned your name and his cum exploded inside you, his face buried in your neck.

“I love you,” you whispered against his skin.

“I love you more,” he replied, his voice low but sure as he pressed a kiss to your shoulder.

Before either of you could fully recover, you heard the unmistakable sound of a car pulling into the driveway. “Oh shit,” you breathed, glancing toward the window.

Nicholas’ eyes widened, and he helped you scramble off his lap, both of you moving quickly to adjust your clothes. He pulled you into a quick kiss, his smile soft and adoring despite the rush. “You’re amazing,” he whispered before stepping back to make himself presentable.

By the time his parents walked through the door, the two of you were seated on the couch upstairs, your hands intertwined and matching smiles on your faces as though nothing had happened.

[nalyra-dreaming]

COMMENTS on 2x07 - SPOILERS

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . *FIRST OFF: GOD HAVE I CRIED *No breath, no relief, all the pain This… contains a lot of swearing. . . . . . . .

The fucking rat box - there is a significant time gap between Claudia being shoved in there and her on stage. I BET that will become "that" time frame later, when Armand.... finally gets to it.

Btw, the iron boxes... an iron entrapment. I'm not sure if deliberate, but there is a piece of lore from Blood Communion that could come into play here IF they should pick it up again, later on

I’m glad they made the mental influence clear right away. Like… it’s not even subtle. And Lestat acting weird AF isn’t subtle either. It’s clear. It’s scripted. It’s the “last play”. It’s been “designed, and rehearsed.”

The Achilles’ heel slashed is so… vicious

Louis sensing and smelling Lestat… oh honey

Like that they referred to “the old place” for the other theater

Them making him swear on her diary is sooooo…💀

Santiago is so PLEASED when Lestat returns to script lol… we don’t see it but I wonder how many of the jury it took

A story of love... 💀

They are using the music box music … the fuckers

Awwww Armand being “punished” to watch… nawwwwww glad Daniel is not buying it either... and by Sam, the playwright... with a scythe... nawww. Okay, everybody buying that after that little restaurant display raise their hands, lmao.

That Lestat sleeping in the dirt is just... wrong. We already KNOW he returned to Paris twice. Another hint!!!

The repeated hint at the “ancient blood”… very on the nose

Their eye contact

Them trying to make it seem as if Louis “hunted” Lestat… lmao. As if Louis could have if Lestat would not have wanted him to????

Santiago prompting Lestat…. they seem to have pushed the narrative into his mind

on a random note: the blue contacts look so much better this season???

Oh…. Lestat SNAPPING at “fags” - loved it - so fantastically intense and creepy

“where lies their disgust now”?

Lestat making that man feel what he feels - WHY didn’t you just show this to Louis?????

THE HAIR CHANGED!!! There is that strand again! And the perfect hair in other scenes!!! INFLUENCED!! Manipulated!! I’ve been fucking saying.

OOOOHHHHH MY GOD Claudia’s turning … Louis knowing about the laws, did Louis really promise to stay???? I mean that’s just bargaining, and Louis just… begging… oh god, AND THEN THE FUCKING CUT TO ARMAND’s LOOK OH YOU FUCKER

“you were manipulated into it”… yeah. Say it, Santiago

God. Lestat there. And Louis the way he sees him.

Lestat confirming that Louis did not share affection with him anymore, as said, for years

Yeah, no, Lestat’s pose there for the Antoinette reveal is totally… natural 💀

God, Claudia cackling at Lestat saying “she’s the best of my vampiric self”… 😭

Ep5 revisit. Uhhhhh boy did they expand on what we already knew. And I KNEW something happened in the coffin room that made Lestat snap!! I KNEW IT! Okay, they kept the weird logistics of the fall (for now at least), but… yeah. This makes at least… more sense than before, I guess. Also, Lestat fully breaking script and admitting it. KNOWING he had hurt Louis there. Knowing. (I still stand by the Amel theory for the outside part and the comment in 1x06. Since they are taking from Prince Lestat….)

“A wolf congratulated for not killing her pup”!!!!!!!!

Louis is wearing something other than black again!!!!

“and then - something real” - and Armand chiming in… how… inconspicuous 💅🏼

A Stoning. Indeed.

I’m not sure how much I believe of them waking Lestat tbh… like... with the supposed trial rehearsals... and the crossing over... nawwwww

That eating blood with a spoon is so… inefficient. Like, they drink so much more???? What kind of blood is that to savor it like that? Must be special??? Or it's just show.

Oh god. Madeleine choosing Claudia. She is my coven. God.

Ugh. Lestat breaking script for Claudia. AND BY GOD I HOPE CLAUDIA FULFILLS THAT PROMISE

Oohhhhwwwwwww and Armand working SO HARD ON SAVING LOUIS!!!!! YOU LITTLE…. GNAAAHHHHH I don’t even have a word. "bites something"

God the pebbles/rocks. The entombment. And the SAME stones at the Dubai tree…

Lestat, swaying on his feet

So. Armand tells us of Claudia facing her death bravely. And defiantly. And the stare of shock and pain on Lestat’s face. Armand… the last to know the truth… for now. -.-

PREVIEW

And Armand getting Louis out.. afterwards. When… the coven did not care anymore, right??????? Mh hmmm.

Louis getting their asses

Louis going to kill Lestat??? MHHHH

EPISODE INSIDER

"it’s a fake setup - props in a play". Yeah. THAT.

Claudia doesn’t give an inch - "she knows she’s right"

“She has Lestat’s blood - if they do anything, it’s come back with a vengeance”!!!!!!!!!!! YES PLEASE 😭

Claudia’s death represents Louis’ last connection to this world

“[Claudia] was a brilliant vampire.

IN - fucking - DEED

God, what an episode.

I am... somewhat irritated that the reshot the turning and did not really revisit murder night, because the discrepancies there still stand. Except they have always intended to return to it in s3, which might make sense. Still. A bit weird, all of it. And Lestat breaking out of the control and script to admit to hurting Louis. 😭

God.

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

Hello! I’m not sure if this has been requested yet. But could I request an Ethan Landry imagine with the prompts 1 & 4. “How could you betray me like that?’’ & “I’m not gonna let you get hurt.’’ Could the reader be Gale and Dewey’s daughter too? Please and thank you!

I've been waiting for a request that could fit this scene idea that I had and this one was perfect!!

my taglists are here  + you can requests here at any time

—

Your eyes welled with tears as the ghostface on detective Bailey’s right took off their mask, revealing the face of your boyfriend.

‘’No,’’ you cried, barely audible.

The ghostface reveals are known to be shocking, but this — you did not see this coming. Ethan had always been sweet, loving and awkward. He was the perfect golden retriever boyfriend. You really thought you had him figured out.

Yet, here he was, black robe on and bloody knife in his hand after stabbing his roommate to an imminent death.

You felt sick to your stomach. This couldn’t be happening.

You were starting to believe that your life was cursed. You were the daughter of two survivors of the original Woodsboro massacre, it would make sense. Cursed by the bloodline.

Would this ever stop? Or were you destined to die by the knife of a masked killer? You were so sick of these fucking ghostfaces. One of them had taken your father’s life last year. Now, your mother was severely injured and one of the killers turned out to be the guy you were in love with? Your father was right — never trust the love interest.

Beside you, Tara was frowning at who she thought was her friend. How could he have done this to Chad?

Sam’s attention shifted to the second ghostface that had yet to reveal himself. Please don’t be Danny, she silently begged. She had gone through this once, she didn’t want to be betrayed the same way again. She would probably go ballistic if the second ghostface revealed to be Danny.

Everyone was on the edge as the remaining ghostface removed their mask.

Quinn.

‘’Hey roomies,’’ she greeted with a smile. ‘’Didn’t see that one coming, did you?’’

‘’Because we thought you died,’’ Tara said, deeply confused.

‘’Yeah, well it was a way to get off the suspects list.’’

Detective Bailey and Quinn went on about how they faked her death, but you weren’t listening. Your attention focussed on the boy who completely shattered your heart.

“How could you betray me like that?’’ you said as a tear slipped down your cheek, looking right at Ethan.

His eyes were filled with guilt and regret, but you didn’t put your guard down. You couldn’t let yourself be fooled by him — not again.

‘’I’m sorry, baby.’’ Ethan’s voice had shifted to the soft one he used with you, dropping the ghostface act. He made a step to you, but before he could reach you, Quinn did and held her knife against your throat.

You gasped and went completely still in Quinn’s hold, your life one move away from ending.

Rage filled Ethan, glaring at his killing partner. ‘’Don’t touch her!’’ he warned, pointing his knife at Quinn. ‘’She has nothing to do with this.’’

‘’Uh-uh. Come any closer and I’ll kill her,’’ the ginger haired girl defied, tightening her hold on your frightened figure.

Quinn’s threat was not an empty one and Ethan knew. She didn’t care about you or your life.

‘’Falling for the enemy. God, you’re such an idiot!’’

You begged Ethan for help with your eyes, the fear in his mirroring yours.

Suddenly, the sound of a gunshot echoed in the theater and you saw Kirby, back on her feet, firing at Quinn. The bullet hit her shoulder and fell back from the impact, just enough to allow you to slip from her grapes and flee with Sam and Tara as Quinn cursed from the pain.

The theater was large, so you separated. Sam took Tara's hand and dragged her in one direction and you took the other. It would have been smart if there weren't three killers, but staying together made you a bigger target. There wasn’t really a smarter plan, they both sucked.

You pushed a door and took a left, hoping to find a room to lock yourself in, but instead ending up in a long hallway that was a deadend. Fuck. If any of the killers found you, you would be doomed.

You leaned against the wall, catching your breath for a short moment as you asked yourself what your mom would do in your situation. She’s Gale Weathers, she’s intelligent and resourceful — she always finds a solution.

During your thinking, a hand covered your mouth.

By elimination, it wasn’t Quinn — she would have stabbed you immediately. It also couldn’t be detective Bailey because all the man could do was use a gun.

Your eyes widened in fear, thinking this was your moment, but instead you heard Ethan’s voice.

‘’It’s me.’’

A sound that should reassure you and make you feel safe instead made fear rise in your chest.

You pushed his hand off you. ‘’Don’t touch me.’’

Your words hurt like a dagger to the heart. You were scared of him.

He raised his hands in surrender. ‘’I know you're scared of me right now—’’

‘’You murdered people, Ethan. You...you stabbed my mom and killed her boyfriend.’’

‘’That wasn't me! It was Quinn,’’ he exclaimed, quickly innocenting himself. ‘’I could never do this to you.’’

His eyes were pleading that you would believe him, but to which extent had he put an act on?

‘’Was any of it real? You and I?’’

Tears filled your eyes again as flashes of the time spent with him hit you. All the nights watching movies cuddled on his bed, the study sessions that turned into making out and the softest smiles he gave you. The intimate moment spent beneath the sheets. Helping him tape his strange knight costume for the Halloween party because it kept falling apart. When he comforted you after the attack at Sam and Tara’s apartment or accompanied you to the hospital when your mom got stabbed numerous times. You had cried into his chest, wrapped in the protection of his strong arms while the doctors were taking care of your mom.

‘’Yes!’’ he affirmed, coming close but you stepped back, making his heart ache. ‘’Everything between us is real, I promise. You're the only good thing in my life I've ever known. The only person I’ve ever loved.’’ He was pouring his heart to you, not caring if he sounded desperate.

There was nothing he wouldn’t do to get your forgiveness. Hell, he would get on his fucking knees and beg if needed.

‘’And I believe that.’’ You put a hand on his face gently, feeling his baby-soft skin. ‘’I love you, Ethan. I love you, but I can't forgive you. You…you killed Anika and Chad.’’

‘’I had to! My dad— He made me do it.’’ Tears filled Ethan’s eyes. ‘’I-I wanted nothing to do with this.’’

He rarely ever evoked his father — or his family. All he had said to you was that he constantly had to fight to gain his father's love and approval because he wasn't the favorite son. Was this why he participated in his father's revenge plan?

Your heart ached for the boy who begged for his father’s attention and love, but it didn’t change anything to the fact that Ethan had killed in cold blood two people who called him a friend.

‘’I’m sorry.’’ Your hand slipped from his face, getting flashes of Anika’s body falling from the ladder and hitting the ground. ‘’You’ve gone too far. I can’t—’’

‘’I’m sorry. For Chad and Anika and all the people I’ve hurt.’’

‘’Sorry is not gonna bring them back.’’

Ethan didn’t say anything. Sometimes, silence is best.

‘’I’m still gonna keep my promise.’’

You drew your eyebrows together. ‘’What promise?’’

‘’To protect you. It doesn’t matter if you hate me, you’re not going down tonight.’’ He rested his forehead against yours, looking right into your eyes as he promised. ‘’I'm not gonna let you get hurt. Ever.’’

—

Scream taglist: @misfityanii @beautybyfire @iluvscream191 @mariposa555 @bella7866 @o638 @lulubelle14 @luvvtxinityy @frasersgf  @Eddiefrickenmunson @jasperr-the-friendly-ghost @ghostf4cee @thesebitcheslovesosadotcom @wandaswigglywoos @xjennyx2 @jennasslut @thatonesblog 

All and more taglist: @spiokybirdstarfish @kenqki @liidiaaag @hawkegfs  @gillybear17  @areaderinlove @acornacreacure @black-rose-29 @fudge13 @cece05 @rosie-cameron @Caxddce @laylasbunbunny @gemofthenight @beautyb1ade  @hi-bored-as-fcuk-rn  @lovelyy-moonlight @mellabella101 @vxnity713​  @marzipaanz

[noonew1lleverask]

Over and Over Again

Hello people. I’ve literally never posted on tumblr before, but I really really wanted to because I had this Spencer Reid idea. This sucks, and if you have any critic or advice for me, PLEASE LET ME KNOW. I hope you like it. There’s no warnings, besides a storm, maybe? Again, never posted before, yes, the banner is huge. I know. I do not know how to fix these things. I’m yapping.

ANYWAYS: this blurb was written based off of the song Would You Fall in Love with Me Again from EPIC (dog, listen to it, it’s the best musical ever). Loosely based, really. I hope you love it.

“I’ve changed,” he insisted. He persistently insisted, pacing his living room floor, expertly dodging books left face-open on the floor , words subject to dim lighting above them, watching like a crowded theater as he stood before her, laying himself bare. He wasn’t a man anymore— couldn’t she see that? He was a monster.

She watched him with wrinkled brows, mentally undoing the puzzle she’d spent all of her time knowing him trying to solve. She couldn’t understand it. Why did he think he had any right to tell her this? She knew he changed, it was obvious, it was natural, considering what happened. Yet, he spoke of his shift in demeanor as if it wasn’t obvious, as if she wasn’t aware of the yellow warning signs flashing by her as she drove down the road, speedometer reaching unsafe levels, but she couldn’t stop. She didn’t want to.

Stepping forward, toes catching against the corners of his precious literature now tossed aside in the face of his internal storm, she caught him by his wrists, stopping him. “Spencer—“

The words burst from his mouth, drowning her out. “I’m not the man you fell in love with. What I did in there?”

Despite his insistence, his hands slid down, entwining their fingers together and holding tightly, too afraid to let go, too desperate to cling to a lifeline suddenly cast toward him, a precious lifeboat of brilliant orange in a raging sea, waves of resistance keeping him at bay.

“What I did in there… it’s not… you have to understand. I did what I had to do—“

“Then that makes you more man than monster— that makes you human. You lived— the human instinct is to live— stop trying to… to dissuade me! Spencer, I—“

“Please—“

The desperation sat heavily in his eyes, glimpses of a lake hidden deep within a dark forest, a glimpse of heavenly seas of emerald spoke of in Revelations. They flickered, flashing between adoration and aggravation, desperation and deprivation. Duty and desire warred inside his mind, a voice near the back of his mind reminding him of his sins, of his transgressions. She didn’t need that. She needed clean cut and safety. How could she find wealth of any kind with him?

Electricity crackled between them, rolling like the breaching thunder outside of his apartment.

He didn’t believe in fate. He didn’t believe in destiny or signs, but this? This seemed to perfectly concocted. If there was a God, He was making his opinion known of the situation inside of Spencer’s apartment, expressing his vehement hatred of the private world they’d come to build together. He would tear it down if Spencer didn’t first.

Her eyes flashed to the window, and snapped back to him, mirroring his desperation; destruction; adoration; anger. She held his hands tighter, nails digging into the flesh of his knuckles. The singe of pain was needed, it tied him to her, fed his selfish desires to have her, to keep her inside of him, tucked securely into the empty cavity of his chest.

Her voice was a rasp as she seemed to beg, all but falling to her knees to clutch to his pant leg and sob like a child. “‘*Please*’. You keep saying ‘please’. Stop saying that!” She exclaimed, holding his hands tighter. Her body felt rigid, tense with all of the emotions tightly wound inside of her, aching to be let free in a cacophony of rage, explosion of lust, a torrent of emotions. “Spencer, I love you! I will fall in love with you over and over again, and I don’t care what you did. I don’t care who you hurt— do you think I haven’t hurt people, too?”

“Not like I have,” he attempted to intervene, and she quickly shushed him.

“What you have done in moments of desperation doesn’t matter to me!… Okay, it does. It matters to me because I… you’re here with me. You’re with me, holding my hands, telling me not to love you— but you told me I was the only thing keeping you sane. My letters were your anchor. Was that not true?”

His silence was answer enough. The thin press of his rose lips told her everything she needed to know. With a grating strength, she released his wrist, and drew her hand to his face. His stubble tickled her palm as she cupped his jaw, watched him lean into her touch like a sunflower towards the sun.

“Stop fighting me,” she whimpered. Her voice had lost it’s strength, but not it’s conviction. “Stop trying to keep me away from you… If I wanted to leave you, if I believed, truly believed you were a monster… I wouldn’t be here, would I?”

He looked so tired. When he smiled it was torn. This wasn’t the same man as before, but it was Spencer. Spencer fucking Reid, and she’d be damned if she didn’t love him just as much; maybe more.

“I love you,” she whispered, her voice thick with tears she hadn’t realized began spilling over her cheeks, collecting at her jaw and running down her neck in hot rivulets.

His pupils swelled at the sight.

Her words began to snowball, as did her volume as it rose and rose with every word, her strength returning under the clear dilation of his pupils; a solid tell he was just as affected as her. “And I won’t stop loving you, because you will always be the man I fell in love with. No matter what you’ve done, where you’ve been— damnit, Spencer—!“

His head dipped forward suddenly, lips catching hers in a powerful press of lips that she’d yearned for since he first delivered her a smile that broke through clouds over her head, offered one of his relentless facts of seemingly infinite wisdom that drew her deeper into this… well of adoration she’d fallen headfirst into.

Heat blossomed at the base of her spine, racing up her back to leave her lightheaded as she fell into him, hands falling to loosely clutch his shirt. His arms wound around her waist to capture her weak form, clutching her to him, his fingers curled into her shirt, wrinkling the fabric.

His lips perused hers with a desperate leisure, a slow hunger that threatened to tear him limb from limb. His seams were already loosened, and she was tugging, whether she knew it or not.

Pulling back reluctantly, he breathed heavily against her mouth. Bursts of moist, warm air hit her skin. She felt it curl around her cheeks, sink into her ears, her temporal lobe soaking in the lingering tingle of his lips on hers, leaving her drunk.

“I love you,” he whispered to her, his voice barely audible over the rain slamming against the windows of his living room. He had forgotten about God’s wrath looming outside of his windows.

She laughed softly, her voice still hiccuping around her steadily falling tears. “Do you know how long I’ve been waiting for you to say that?”

He smiled, a genuine, full smile of exuberant happiness. “Too long.”

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING IF YOU DID! <3 Even if you didn’t, thanks so much anyways! Remember, you are loved and appreciated by someone. You are loved and appreciated by me, and I hope you have a wonderful day wherever you are.

[dark-frosted-heart]

Beauty and the Beast’s Last Theater - Azel Radwan (part 3/4)

As usual, can’t guarantee 100% accuracy on this

I wasn’t sure how much time had passed since Prince Azel covered my eyes with his hand.

Emma: Are we done yet?

Azel: Not yet.

Emma: …Just what…

Azel: Be quiet.

Fingers suddenly pinched my lips shut, stopping any words.

(Prince Azel mentioned “mercy”, but what kind of mercy is this?)

(...I closed my eyes and stopped speaking, and am now oddly aware of the warmth coming from his hand)

The living god’s hands felt rough, just like any other man’s.

This awkward moment only filled by the sound of breathing continued—

He soon removed his hand without any warning. I blinked a couple of times at the light from the moon shining through the windows.

While my vision was slowly adjusting to it, Prince Azel retreated to a wall and crossed his arms.

Emma: Um?

Azel: Come on, just practice already.

Emma: …I get nervous when I’m being watched.

Azel: Want to know how many will be watching that day?

(I won’t get any sleep if I do)

I shook my head and turned back toward the window, feeling a nasty stare.

(I’m not sure what happened just then…)

(In any case, let’s just dance in front of Prince Azel. Maybe he can give me some advice…)

I made up my mind, shook away any bashfulness, and tried to move my body again.

(Huh, I think I’m dancing better than I was before)

My body was nimble and I thought my awkward movements were more graceful.

(I see, I let go of a lot of stress)

(All thanks to Prince Azel’s “mercy”)

After going through the dance, I looked over at Prince Azel who was smiling gently—

Azel: You’re still terrible.

His words didn’t match his tone.

Emma: How blunt.

Azel: Would being indirect help you at all?

Emma: …Well when you put it that way…

Azel: Straighten your back, don’t bend your fingers.

Emma: L-like this?

Azel: No.

Prince Azel didn’t even bother hiding his exasperation when he sighed before coming up behind me.

(Woah…)

He lifted my hand and fixed my posture.

Emma: I see…

Azel: It’s a simple task of bending your knees while maintaining your posture.

Emma: I’ll try.

Azel: …You’re not doing it.

Emma: Woah…!

While he was supporting me, he gently pushed the back of my knee with his foot.

As I squatted down to bend my knees, I saw Prince Azel smirk from his reflection in the window.

Azel: Are you planning on showing off a dance while bending forward to tourists around the world?

Emma: O-one more time!

Azel: Now you’re straining yourself, dummy.

(I can’t help it…Not when this close distance is making me feel funny)

I could feel his warmth on my back and his breath against my ear. Despite being some holy god, Prince Azel was no idol.

The moment I realized this, I could feel my heart race.

(No, don’t think about it. He’s just guiding me…He’s just guiding me, so stop thinking about other things—wait, guiding?)

Emma: Prince Azel, I realize it’s late to ask this, but… Will you practice with me?

The moment I asked, I felt him sigh against my ear, causing my shoulders to jolt.

Azel: I suppose trapping you in debt for a night wouldn’t be so bad.

Emma: You're pushing that on me!

Azel: So what?

Emma: Scammer.

Azel: You don’t really have a choice, do you? Unless you want to embarrass yourself on stage.

Emma: Ugh…

Azel: You should be thankful for God’s mercy.

(I can’t even think of a response)

(I’m scared of the bill afterward, but my movements have made a lot of improvement thanks to Prince Azel…)

Emma: Please…

When I begged him reluctantly, Prince Azel’s godly smile lit up.

Azel (polite): Please leave it to me. I will bear the responsibility of turning you into a full-fledged dancer.

—Several hours later.

Emma: Did you see that, Prince Azel! I did well, didn’t I?!

Azel: Yeah, sure, nice, you did it.

I was out of breath and hurting all over, but my movements were a lot better than when I first started practicing. 

I was so thrilled that I couldn’t stop smiling.

Emma: Thank you! I didn’t expect to improve so much.

Azel: You were terrible in the beginning.

Emma: Even though it’s true, I don’t think that’s necessary.

(But I’m happy. I’ll at least be able to do the bare minimum while dancing on stage)

Emma: It’s all thanks to you. I didn’t expect you to be so good at teaching.

Azel: Yeah, I put a lot of time into this. I’m going to double the bill and tack on a late night fee.

Emma: I’ll take it. I’m ready for manual labor.

I smiled triumphantly, but for some reason he turned his handsome face away.

Emma: Why are you looking away?

Azel: I can’t bear to look at how pitiful you are.

Emma: Pitiful…?

Azel: With all this mistreatment, how can you still smile optimistically like that?

Emma: Was I getting mistreated?

Azel: …The fact that you didn’t even notice is a pretty huge deal.

(It’s true that he has a sharp tongue, is Spartan-like, and is strict enough to make me miss Sariel’s lessons, but…)

Prince Azel kept practicing with me until the moon outside changed positions.

Even if he is going to bill me later, it doesn’t change the fact that he patiently taught me.

Emma: I…felt that you were more caring than I thought.

Azel: You got the wrong idea.

Emma: …Are you feeling embarr—

Azel (polite): Ah, would you like your bill now? Of course, I’ll bring it to you later.

Emma: I didn’t say…Ack.

When I thought I finally got him to turn his head, he pinched my cheek.

Prince Azel scowled.

Azel: Let me tell you one nice thing. Including those that won’t be able to fit in the venue, there will be at least 50,000 people coming to see the performance.

Emma: 50,000?!

Azel (polite): Good night, sweet dreams.

(He dropped that information at the last minute!)

Prince Azel quickly left.

He disappeared in an instant, leaving me with the huge moon.

(...In the end, he was still as mean as usual)

(Seriously…)

(Was his aim just to put me in more debt?)

--

Several days later—The creation myth festival was thriving.

I wanted to enjoy my first festival in Tanzanite, but even though I was a dancer with a minor role, the thought of being on stage in front of tens of thousands of people made me very nervous. When the beautiful moon rose, my heart was pounding.

(...There really is a lot of people)

The overwhelming excitement from the crowd around the stage made it hard to breathe.

Female dancer: Emma, it’ll be alright. Besides, that outfit suits you!

The one who tapped my shoulder while I stood at the edge of the stage was an actual dancer, someone who instructed me. 

Emma: T-thank you.

Female dancer: Hehe, we still have a while until our performance, so it’s too early to get nervous.

Emma: Ugh…Is the living god going on before us?

Female dancer: Yeah. The living god’s the star. He appears at the end to get the crowd excited. I’ll let you know when it’s our turn, but until then, enjoy the performance as a part of the audience. Since you’re not from here, you probably don’t know Tanzanite’s creation myth?

Emma: I’m embarrassed to say…Actually, I was looking forward to it.

(Perhaps the myth’s related to Prince Azel? I wonder what kind of story it is)

The sound of footsteps echoed on stage.

Everyone fell silent as the actors appeared.

Male actor: ‘This is a story from long, long ago—’

[jujumin-translates]

★ Main Story | Act 13 - Budding Spring | Chapter 33 - Budding Pink

Towa: …

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

momo has entered the chat.

shiki: Welcome back! Done already?

Iv: how was it?

momo: I’m doing it

Kar: You’re doing IT? lmao

Iv: it ain’t funny when you say it

shiki: What are you doing?

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Kumon: Five minutes until they post the rankings…

Juza: Five minutes, fourteen seconds to be exact.

Muku: Every second that passes feels like an hour…!

Yuki: Chill.

Azami: Are y’all gonna do this every time?

Izumi: They’ll be announcing it on the official page, right?

Kazunari: They should be.

Homare: Now, why don’t you have a cup of tea and take a breather?

Izumi: Thank you so much!

Sakuya: It’s almost time…

Tsuzuru: Oh God…

Itaru: We’ve come this far, so the results are already set in stone.

Citron: We are but ducks sitting in the palm of the hand of fate~.

Tsuzuru: That’s poetic, but also not an actual saying.

Masumi: Are you trying to say we’re at the mercy of fate?

Muku: Ah, it updated!?

Kumon: Huh? What? But my screen’s still blank…!

Itaru: Is the server down?

Chikage: It must be because everyone’s rushing in all at once.

Kazunari: I’m in! MANKAI Company’s…

Juza: 70… 60… 50…

Kumon: Still nothing?

Muku: There’s no way we dropped below 70th, right…?

Tenma: Knock on wood.

Sakuya: 30th! MANKAI Company’s 30th!

Izumi: Really!?

Chikage: We didn’t make it to the top ten, but it’s still quite the improvement from 70th.

Tsuzuru: Thank God… At least we’ve got a fighting chance now.

Itaru: Now we’ve definitely safely passed the baton to Summer Troupe.

Juza: Hyakka ‘n GOD-za moved up the ranks too.

Sakyo: Theater companies with merit must’ve gotten a sizable amount of Theater Votes. If we’re near them, we’re doing good.

Kazunari: That said, that influencer’s new troupe is also in the top 30~.

Juza: We can’t let our guard down.

Izumi: Well, but doesn’t rising up the ranks call for a bit of a celebration…?

Citron: Let us all celebrate together~! Citrun will put on a new comedy snow for you~!

Tsuzuru: Comedy show. Oh, you mean the thing I wrote during my training camp?

Citron: It is just the right thing to show off!

*Doorbell rings*

Manager: I’ll get it.

*Door closes*

Tsuzuru: Helloooo, good afternoon. We’re Citrun.

Citron: I am Tororo.

*Door opens*

Manager: Minagi-san, you have a visitor.

Tsuzuru: Huh?

Towa: Pardon my intrusion!

Izumi: Huh? Towa-kun?

Towa: …Tsuzuru Minagi-sensei!! Please write a script for my theater troupe!! I’m begging you!!

Tsuzuru: Huh? …WHAT!?

[ ⇠ Previous Part ]

[loverontheleft]

Don’t Take Me Home (revised)

Original request: oooh maybe car sex with b? perhaps teen!Brendon and you need a place bc both of your houses are occupied so you take this long romantic drive out into the middle of nowhere and just…

Brendon x reader

Warnings: dirty talk and language, car oral and sex.

Word count: 4.9k➡️5.5k

-||-

“Brendon,” you murmur, clinging to his hand with both of yours as you leave the theater. “I don’t wanna go home.” He turns to you and meets your eyes, biting his lip. “Don’t take me home yet.” You’re practically begging now. “It’s a Thursday night, tomorrow is a teacher workday…don’t take me home.”

“But your parents…” Brendon’s hesitating, understandably so, and you squeeze his hand.

“Are at that wedding three hours away, and are staying the night. They got the sitter for Henry for the whole night.” You give him a suggestive smile. “So they won’t know when I get home. But…” and you tug him closer as you get to his car, leaning up against the side so he presses against you. “Home is also not an option. We’d never make it upstairs without the sitter noticing, and the couch is therefore obviously not a viable location for making out.”

“Hmmmm.” Brendon’s face tells you he’s seriously considering your request. “Well, I do want to make out with you.” You nod and tip your head up to kiss under his jaw. He groans and presses against you more. “I really want to make out with you,” he murmurs, his arms tightening around your waist, fingertips brushing the waistband of your skirt. “Damn, I mean…Y/n, I…fuck,” he sighs helplessly.

“What about your house?” You look up at him hopefully, and he shakes his head, pushing a hand through his hair. You can feel the frustration and regret rolling off of him. “Oh wait, your parents are having that dinner party, aren’t they?” He nods, eyes shut. His cock is stirring against you, and you rock your hips, seeking more. You love the pressure, and he leans against you more firmly. “We should at least get in the car,” you tell him, lips moving over his neck again.

“You’re right…get in the car, Angel,” he tells you, moving his hands down your back and over your curves. “Get in the car, please.” He shifts you slightly so he can open your door. “God, get in the car so I can kiss you, darlin.” You slip under his arm and settle into the seat while he crosses around the front of the car and yanks open his door. “Come here.” He beckons you urgently and you clamber over the center console to settle in his lap, your skirt spreading, as he reaches down between his legs and slides his seat back.

“Hi, B,” you giggle, cupping his cheek. He turns his head slightly to kiss your palm before brushing a finger down your jawline to curl under your chin and draw you close. At his touch, you weaken. At his kiss, you melt into him. You can feel his groan rumble through his chest as your tongue teases his; he clutches you closer and you rock against him as he murmurs how much he loves you.

“I love you too,” you tell him. “I love you so much.”

“So much. Let me keep kissing you,” he begs, snaking an arm around your waist and rubbing back against you, matching your movements. He’s urgent now, thrusting up, pressing his cock right where you want him, and the friction against your underwear is incredible; it’s driving you closer and closer to the edge, and you know he’s got to be just as desperate as you are. “I gotta—Angel, please.” The petname sends a thrill through you. You nod, telling him yes, and he freezes. “Yes?” He doesn’t want to sound too hopeful, but you can feel his body tensing under yours.

“Yes,” you repeat. “I want you too. Fuck, I need to come too.” At his stunned silence, you pause and look at him carefully. “Shit. That isn’t what you meant; oh god, Bren—I’m—” and you cover your face with your hands, blushing deeply. The two of you have only been sleeping together for a few months now, and you’re obsessed with the way he can get you worked up with just a single look or touch. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t think about sex with him all the time.

“Hush, Y/n,” he says softly, kindly, moving your hands and crushing your mouths back together. When you part for air, he stares at you longingly. “That is what I meant—but we can’t—not here.”

You glance around, confused, and he clarifies. “I mean. It’ll have to be here in my car I think…I mean, if you don’t object…we don’t have a lot of options,” and he grins ruefully, nuzzling your nose with his. “…but not here. Not in the movie theater parking lot. We need to go…somewhere else.”

“So take me somewhere else,” you whisper, nuzzling his jawline. “Take me somewhere we can be alone.” He nods and kisses down your neck, hands squeezing your hips and tugging you down against the bulge in his jeans for a brief moment before urging you back into your seat.

“We might be driving for a bit,” Brendon warns you, his hand moving up your skirt and over your thigh. “But I’ll try to be quick.”

“We’ve got nothing but time. Just get me somewhere we can be alone safely,” you tell him, resting your head on his shoulder and shifting slightly so his hand slips between your thighs. He groans and nods, fingers flexing gently. “Need you,” you murmur, resting your hand over his. “Bren, I need you so badly.”

The drive is agony, and you’re both silent; his eyes are fixated on the road while yours are on his face. His thumb is rubbing soft circles over your inner thigh, and you’re subconsciously spreading your legs so he can move his hand higher. You’re both tense, and you know as soon as he parks the car, you’re going to be on top of him. It isn’t long before he pulls off the road and kills the headlights; as he does, you’re unbuckling and scrambling into his lap. “My sweet girl,” he says softly, caressing your cheek. “I love you, you know that—right?” He looks at you seriously, and you nod, nuzzling his palm. “Good,” he whispers. And with that, he leans in to kiss you softly as your hands move to his jeans. Quickly, you unbutton and unzip them so you can reach inside and wrap a hand around his erection. “Fuck,” he groans, letting his head drop back on the headrest. “Your hand, baby; your hand is so good.”

You stroke him firmly and he grunts, hips bucking up to your grasp. “If you think my hand is good, wait til you see what else I have in mind,” you tell him, and he laughs a little desperately, wrapping an arm around your waist to hold you in place while he leans to rummage through the glovebox. When he produces a foil packet, you take it eagerly and rip it open, meeting his eyes as you roll it over his hard length. “Need you,” you murmur, rising up above him slightly so you can guide him into you.

“Fuck, Angel,” Brendon groans, fingers flexing against your hips as you sink down and settle into his lap. “You’re my fucking angel; I love you so much.”

“I love you,” you tell him, resting your forehead against his. “I love you too; fuck, you feel so good in me.” You gasp when he moves against you, lips finding yours. “Oh god,” you whisper, clutching his shoulders. “Brendon, I can’t—I can’t like this—” you’re at a loss for words, your thighs burning and back starting to hurt. You look at him helplessly, frustration and discomfort evident.

“It’s okay, we can stop,” he tells you, and you protest, whining and shifting so you’re resting against the steering wheel, telling him to fuck you like this.

“Yeah?” Brendon watches you carefully, staring at your face as you work yourself down against his cock. “Is this okay? Is this better?” You nod, and he leans over to kiss your neck. “My dirty Angel, begging me to fuck her in my car; she’s such a bad girl, but just for me, isn’t she? She’s my bad girl, my best girl. Love her so much.” He’s whispering this against your skin as he nibbles along your neck and collarbone. “My girl gonna come for me?”

“Yeah,” you moan, back arching off of the wheel as you press yourself against him. You’re both fully clothed, with his jeans down just enough and your skirt bunched around your waist. “Yeah, I’m gonna—”

“Be my sweet girl and come for me,” Brendon pleads, hips moving faster now. You close your eyes and nod, clinging to him. “Baby, you gotta—I can’t hold—you feel too good,” he murmurs. “You gotta come first, oh fu—yes, fuck!” His voice drops into a guttural moan as you clench around him, coming hard. “Yes, Y/n, come for me,” he encourages, panting and thrusting urgently.

“Fuck! Brendon, yes, yes, yes!” Your eyes are wide, and you’re moving against him eagerly. “Your…fuck,” you manage. “Your turn.” He bites your shoulder and you feel him pulse with his orgasm, the heat—even with the condom—spreading through you. “Oh god yes, Brendon, yes!” He’s gasping your name as you tug at his hair, both of you moving gracelessly, frantically against each other. “Holy fuck,” you whisper when your pulse evens out. “That was…”

“Yeah,” he agrees, pushing his hair out of his eyes as you can launch yourself forward and kiss him hard. “I love you,” he repeats, your lips moving together tenderly. “I love you so much.”

-||-

“Brendon!” You squeal with laughter as he lifts you off your feet and tosses you over his shoulder outside the bar where he’s just finished a small acoustic set. The rest of his bandmates laugh and turn away, giving you some privacy. “Urie, you’re drunk,” you declare, beating your fists against his back gently. “And I’m drunk. Put me down.” Obligingly, he places you back on your feet and looks at you.

“Are you actually drunk?” Brendon’s examining your face closely. “You know my rule, Y/n.” He wags his finger at you playfully. “No sex if you’re inebriated.”

“Well now I know you’re not drunk,” you shoot back teasingly. “Getting ‘inebriated’ right on the first try.” He laughs and pulls you close, burying his face in your neck, murmuring that he’s high on you, but not drunk. “I’m not either,” you promise, scratching at his back idly. “Definitely tipsy and in love, but not drunk.”

“Yeah? You wanna hang out for a bit more, sober up, then get out of here?” He looks at you suggestively and you nod, wrapping your arms around his waist. “My place is off limits; Shane is hosting game night,” he tells you, and you frown.

“Hannah is doing some Mary Kay party,” you say with frustration evident. “So it sounds like both of our places are off the table.” You’re both visibly frustrated by this, until you see an idea register on his face. “What?” You look at him suspiciously. “You’ve got your thinking face on…”

“Mmmm,” he agrees, kissing your jawline. “Thinking about senior year, when we fucked in my car after the movies.” You blush, and he gives you a teasing look. “You remember, don’t you, Angel? You begged,” and he stresses the word ‘begged’ with relish, “me not to take you home yet. You were desperate for me.”

“I always am,” you murmur, tipping your head back to give his lips more space to roam. “Don’t you know your girl is addicted to you?” He grins, grabbing your hips and pulling you flush against him. “Shit, you can’t do that,” you warn him. “Feeling you start to get hard like this gets me all worked up, you know that.” He mumbles that he does know that and he likes it. “Tease.” You give him a playful shove, and he bites at your neck in response. “Fuck,” you groan. “You gotta stop, Bren. You’re making me want you more and more, and now I know I can’t have you. We don’t have any place to go.”

He pulls back and gives you a curious look. “Angelbaby, didn’t you hear me say that I was remembering senior year?” You nod, and he grins when he realizes that you clearly aren’t getting it. “We’ve got my car,” he tells you. Your eyes widen. “Yeah. Exactly. We’ve got my car. Give me twenty minutes and a bottle of water, and I’ll be good to get us out of here and somewhere we can be alone.”

After he’s sober enough for both of your liking, he loops an arm around your waist and pulls you close, leading you back out into the parking lot. “Take me somewhere we can be alone,” you tell him, running a finger down his chest. “Want to be someplace private with my man.” He nods and opens your door for you, closing it after you. He settles in the car and inhales sharply when your hand rests over his erection. Without commenting, he puts the car in drive and leaves the parking lot, fingers wrapped tightly around the wheel. “You doing okay there, Urie?” You tease, squeezing lightly. He nods, giving you a quick glance.

“I’m doing great. Thinking about eating out my girlfriend in the backseat of this car, getting her hot cunt all over my face. You?”

“Fuck,” you mumble, letting your head roll back as your fingers trail over his erection. “That wasn’t what I was thinking, but it sure is now.” He grins, telling you to keep thinking about it. “I will,” you promise. “The way you kiss my inner thighs and along my pussy, letting your tongue tease me…” you close your eyes. “Damn…want you between my legs, baby.”

“I want to be there,” he reassures you. “Want to taste my sweet girl as she rubs against my face. Wanna make her come with my fingers and my tongue. Wanna lick her clit and make her squeal, wanna see her lose control from my mouth. Wanna watch her from between her pretty thighs, wanna hold her hips and kiss her all over…”

“Brendon,” you moan, wriggling in your seat. “Need you. Hurry.” He nods and, scanning the road once more, pulls off into a deserted clearing. “This isn’t sketchy at all,” you remark as you climb into the backseat. He laughs as he follows you.

“Do you want me to go back to driving so we can keep loo—oh god.” He cuts himself off when you slide your jeans down your thighs, leaving you in his favorite pink lace underwear. “If you don’t mind, I’m not driving anymore,” he tells you, kneeling between your legs on the backseat.

“You look horribly uncomfortable,” you remark, watching him try to bend down far enough to taste you. “We can reevaluate positions if you need.”

“Yeah,” he groans, rolling his neck. “I love eating you out and that position was going to ruin it. I’m just gonna—” and he slips off the seat so he’s kneeling in the foot space, back against the back of the passenger seat. “Now if you’ll scoot down and—” he beckons you and as you move, he reaches up and spreads your legs while coaxing you forward. “Is this comfortable?” He pushes one of your knees up so it’s parallel to the back of the seat.

“Yeah, I’m fantastic. You?”

“Definitely better. It’s a tight fit, but I’d put up with far worse circumstances to get my tongue in your perfect pussy, Angel.” He grins at you and rubs his thumb over the dark center of your panties. “Right through…damn…” Brendon sighs, and you watch his eyes dilate in pleasure at the mere thought of tasting you. “So wet, Y/n…”

“I am,” you agree in a low voice. “You should do something about it. It is your fault after all.” You grin at him and he laughs appreciatively, pressing warm, open-mouthed kisses to your thigh as he shifts higher onto his knees to get closer and work your underwear down your legs. “This is an interesting change, you being on your knees for me.”

“You make it sound like I don’t—” Brendon starts to protest, clearly insulted at the idea of him not loving to eat you out, and you shake your head quickly.

“No, no—I just mean this position. You’re very generous with your mouth, baby, and I love it—and you. But we’re usually in bed or I’m on top of you. You’re not normally literally on your knees. That’s all.” You tug his hair affectionately and roll your hips towards his mouth.

“That’s better,” he comments with a grin. “Didn’t think you were taking my mouth for granted or anything…but I’d hold out on you if I needed to prove a point.”

You pout, and he laughs. “We both know I wouldn’t last long.” He gives you a teasing lick, letting the tip of his tongue move in a quick circle over your clit. You gasp and your back arches; you tug at his hair and he makes a soft sound of approval, switching to deep, slow strokes while his fingers slide into your heat.

“Oh fuck, don’t stop,” you groan, rocking under him. “Brendon, baby, so good; lick it honey, just—oh god, so fucking good!” His fingers curl while his thumb rubs; his eyes meet yours as he mouths over you, tongue rolling repeatedly against your clit. “Oooooh shit!” The squeal is practically ripped from your body and your eyes snap open wide. “Brendon, yes! Yes yes yes!!” The leg that is parallel to the seat back drops and pins his head between your thighs; he groans, pressing closer and keeping his fingers moving. “Oh god!” Your voice is high and tight, and you’re rocking eagerly against his mouth, holding him in place with your grip in his hair and the pressure of your thighs. “Making me come, oh fuck!”

“Come for me, Angel,” he begs in a muffled voice that sends you over the edge, shrieking and moaning and swearing. “That’s my good girl,” Brendon murmurs when your hips stop moving and your legs part, freeing him. He starts licking your inner thighs idly, watching you with dark eyes. “My Angel knows how much I love her coming on my face. Love tasting you, licking you, sucking you…my best girl.” He places a soft kiss against your hip before crawling up on top of you, propping himself up on his forearms over you.

“Kiss me,” you say softly, craning your neck to reach his mouth. “Need you.” You throw an arm around his back and press him to you; he grunts as his full body weight comes down on you and your legs tighten around his hips. “Any chance of you whipping that cock out and fucking me while we’re back here?”

“You did not just use the phrase ‘whipping that cock out,’ did you?” Brendon looks at you in amusement, body shaking with suppressed laughter. “I cannot take you seriously with those words coming from your perfect mouth.” You blush, and he laughs, catching your lips again. “I will fuck you, but only if you promise to never ask that way again.”

“That’s a more than fair deal,” you agree, before zipping your lips shut. “I got a little carried away, sorry. I was going for ‘desperate,’ but in hindsight, not my most sexy phrasing.” He laughs again and kisses you hard, one hand cupping your face while the other works between your bodies to unzip his jeans. When, together, you’ve worked his jeans down his legs, he grips your thigh and rocks into you slowly. “Oh god,” you moan, closing your eyes. “That feels so good.”

“Yeah,” Brendon groans, face buried in the crook of your neck. “Oh god, yeah. Angel, you feel so fucking good…” He’s moving at a painfully slow pace, and you squirm under him, trying to get more. “Patience,” he chides, lifting your leg higher on his waist so he can fill you. “I’m gonna take care of you, Y/n. You know I’m going to take care of you and make it so good for my girl.”

“Yeah,” you manage, both hands clawing at his back through his shirt. “Yeah, feels so good; Brendon, my god, yes!” His mouth is moving over your neck and the way he’s holding you, keeping your hips tipped up so he can go deep, is sending you closer and closer to the edge with each thrust. “Brendon, baby, you’re gonna make me—oh god, please don’t stop, please, please, please!”

“Yes, Y/n, oh god, your pussy feels so—you feel so—oh fuck, Y/n, I’m gonna come,” Brendon groans, picking up speed and biting desperately at your neck. “Can I come, Angel? Can I come in you?”

“Fuck, please!” You scratch at him desperately, the pleasure you’re feeling evident in every breath and word and movement. You two have only recently made the choice to stop using condoms, and you’re still enthralled every time he asks to come inside you. You can’t get enough of him. “Come, Brendon, come for me. Come in me.” You feel his body shudder against yours; it pushes you over the edge. You let yourself tense around him as your back arches. He groans, and you whimper when he comes. “Yes,” you moan, clinging to him. “Oh fuck, yes!”

“Angelbaby,” Brendon murmurs, breathing hard. “My sweet girl, my good girl, my perfect girl looks so good coming on me…” he’s stroking your hair now, lips pressed to your forehead.

“Brendon,” you whisper, tipping your head back to kiss him. “I love you so much.”

“I love you,” he replies, twisting a lock of hair around his index finger. “I love you so much. Goddamn, I want to marry you.”

You freeze and look at him with wide eyes. “You don’t mean that.” Your voice is soft, and he raises an eyebrow in amusement, though you can see the nervousness reflected in his own eyes. You pause. “Do you mean that?”

“Yes,” Brendon tells you without hesitation, his voice steady. “Yes, I mean it. I—but this isn’t me asking—I’ll do it better, my love; I’ll make it so romantic and special for you, and I’ll—dammit, I’ll have a ring too. Fuck, I’ve ruined everything by saying something now—ah, shit Y/n, I’m so sorry; you deserve—”

“Yes,” you murmur, kissing him. “Yes. Yes, Brendon. Yes.” His face lights up, and he takes you in his arms, peppering your face in soft kisses, laughing when you squeal in pleasure. “Yes, I will marry you!”

-||-

“Y/n Y/m/n Urie, your husband needs you!” Brendon’s voice rings through your bedroom, and you shake your head with a laugh, heading for his closet. “Hi, Angel,” he purrs, opening his arms for you to step into his embrace. “You look gorgeous. Love this dress on you. Will you pick out a jacket for me?”

You both look at the pile of clothes on the floor. “B,” you say with a smile. “You are thirty-four years old and what’s more, you manage to pick out clothes for and dress our children every day. You can’t pick out your own jacket?”

“I just want to look good,” he grumbles playfully, swinging your entangled hands back and forth. “Throwing my Angel a birthday party tonight, and I just want to look good enough to be on her arm.”

“You’re sweet, Brendon,” you murmur, hugging him. “You know you’ll look good in anything.” He looks at you expectantly and you smile, bending down and selecting a black jacket with metallic detailing. “This one. This will look good with my dress.”

“I hope you know I don’t mean to make it about me,” Brendon murmurs in your ear as he slips his arms into the jacket. “I just—” but you silence him with a kiss.

“It’s all good, B,” you assure him, kissing his neck and pushing him back against the wall of the closet. He groans and rolls his head back, letting you step closer so you can keep working your lips up his neck and behind his ear. “Want you to be comfortable. Want the photos to look good—know we’re gonna be taking photos, so…” you nip behind his ear and let your hand slide down between his legs; you grin when he grunts and rocks forward into your palm.

“Angel, don’t tease me right now,” Brendon pleads, wrapping an arm around your waist and rubbing himself against your hand. “You know I want you.”

“And I want you,” you retort playfully, flexing your fingers. “You want me to drop to my knees and take care of you the way we both want?”

“That,” Brendon manages in a strained voice, “sounds more like a birthday present for me. Today is your birthday.”

“True,” you murmur, nibbling at his earlobe. “But neither of us have ever needed a birthday in order to get the other on their knees.” Brendon laughs appreciatively, and you think you may have won and are moments away from talking your husband out of his pants, but instead, his hand comes up and tangles in your hair.

“We can’t be late, Angel,” Brendon whispers, and you can hear the regret in his voice. Instead of pushing him, you slip out of his grasp and coax him to the door, curling a finger as you linger in the doorway. Without hesitation, he follows you, all the way out to the driveway.

“Does it ever amaze you that we’ve been wanting each other for seventeen years?” You look at him with a sweet smile once you’re both settled in the car. “We started dating the night before my seventeenth birthday. And here we are now.” You rest your hand on his thigh, squeezing lightly.

“Here we are now,” Brendon agrees, moving your hand higher. “Married with two beautiful children; meanwhile you don’t look a day over twenty-two.” You laugh and thank him for making you old enough to drink; when he kisses you, you palm his dick through his pants gently, rolling your hand to hold him in place while still driving him wild. He wraps a hand around your wrist to keep your hand against him. “God, you get me so hard,” Brendon groans after a minute, and you flex your fingers. “Fuck, Y/n, teasing me so good…”

“Me? Tease? Never. But my husband is so hard for me…really I’m just teasing myself…” you moan and squeeze his erection. “Seventeen years with you and fucking you, and I’m still insatiable.”

“Like I mind,” Brendon says, watching you through heavy eyes. “Wanna fuck my Angel good for her birthday…” you both glance ahead of you, gauging the distance to the venue and then at the digital display clock. “I think we have time,” he tells you. “I’m gonna pull over now.” Brendon guides the car off the main road, into a shopping center and parks behind one of the stores, positioning the car behind a loading dock.

You smirk at him and open your door so you can crawl into the backseat. “You’re bad, Urie,” you tell him.

“You love it,” he shoots back, following you. “Now, I want that dress up, the panties down, and you should brace yourself against the window.” You obey and put a hand flat against the window, raising your hips in offering to him. “That’s my good girl,” Brendon murmurs as he rocks into you from behind. “Seventeen years together, so she knows exactly how she likes me to fuck her. Such a good girl, my Angel. But she’s my dirty girl too, isn’t she? Look at her, on her knees in the back of this car, showing me her wet pussy, spreading herself with two fingers, showing me exactly where she wants my cock. Yes, honey, yes, you know I’m gonna give you my cock,” Brendon groans as he starts moving slowly.

“Brendon!” You yelp his name, and he spanks you gently. You give a small squeal of pleasure at the contact and push back for more; he obliges and moves faster, moaning your name as he works. Carefully, you move your other hand to the window so you can fully brace yourself against the glass. You spread your knees slightly so you’re more stable on the cushion of the backseat; Brendon shifts with you and just the feeling of his hands on your hips as he thrusts into you hard is overwhelming your senses. “Yes, Brendon, yes!” Your voice breaks with pleasure and he moans, kissing your neck and digging his fingers into your hips.

“My - Angel - gets - fucked - good - for - her - birth - day,” he pants, filling you fast and hard with one hand moving to rub your clit while the other wraps your hair around his fist, tugging gently and making you moan louder than you have yet. “That’s right,” he murmurs in your ear. “Let me hear how much you love getting fucked in our car like we’re still horny teenagers. Desperate for each other, can’t keep our hands off each other; just want to fuck you til we both collapse—you like that, Angel? You gonna come on your husband’s hard cock?”

“Brendon! Love it, love you, love your cock, oh fuck fuck fuck! Brendon, make me come!” You’re gasping and moaning and bucking back against him, head tipped back so he can hear you clearly. “Fuck me, make me come!”

“My Angel wants to come all over my cock?”

“Please!” You’re whimpering now and he bites your neck lightly, making you squeal and tighten around him as he thrusts hard.

“Good girl, begging for it. Come,” Brendon tells you, doubling his pace before bending over you and resting his hand on the window to keep himself upright. “Oh fuck, Y/n, I’m gonna come, gonna make me come!”

“Ooooh shit!” Your words come out high and loud, and you push back onto him as you come. “Oh fuck shit Brendon yes fuck fuck fuck!”

“Angel, fu—” Brendon just manages his pet name for you before his body tenses over you and you feel him come, fast and hot. “Yes, fuck yes…”

Both of you are breathing hard and trying to steady yourselves when he pulls back and out of you. “Fuck,” you say with a breathless laugh as you turn around and curl into him. “The car has changed, but we have not.” He laughs too, dropping a hand down to fix your hair. “Do we have napkins or anything? We have to go be polite and civilized and appropriate at this party, don’t we? And I’m fucking soaked and have your cum dripping out of me. God.”

Brendon groans, settling into the seat beside you and running a hand through his own hair before he guides his pants back up into place. “Fuck, you’re so damn sexy. I think there’s a pack of tissues in the glove compartment. I’ll check.” Leaning forward now, Brendon rummages through the glove box and center console, finally producing a few napkins. “Here we are. But I’ll be honest, the thought of you wet and dripping with us all night is not a bad one,” he says with a laugh. “Just think about it; the two of us slow-dancing, my hand pressed to the small of your back, mouth dipping down to your ear to ask if you’re still wet for me. We both know you will be.” You whine and swipe between your legs before tugging your panties up into place.

“You’re being a tease,” you tell him, pushing your dress down before resting your head on his shoulder.

“Maybe a bit. Should I be sorry?”

“No, probably not.” you smile up at him, snuggling into his chest as he drapes an arm around you. “We broke tradition,” you point out, tracing hearts on his pant leg. He gives you a curious look, and you smirk. “We always fucked in the car after whatever we were at because we couldn’t or didn’t want to go home.”

“Oh no,” Brendon says in mock horror, grinning a little. He pulls out his phone and sends a quick text and when he catches your inquisitive look, he laughs. “I just asked Steph to stay later with the kids.” You raise an eyebrow, and Brendon squeezes your thigh affectionately. “I asked because it sounds like I’ll have to fuck my perfect wife in the car again before we get home to our beautiful children. My life is so hard, clearly.” He gives you a faux-longsuffering expression, making you laugh.

“Mmmm, your life is hard,” you agree, kissing his cheek and palming him through his pants. “Just make sure that when we leave this party, your cock is too.”

[crimsonnsstuff]

Destroy me

TW: eating out, dom!Xavier, degrading, fingering

————————

“ Please, baby”

You and your boyfriend were at the movie theaters. Xavier was begging to go home, as you were running your hand up and down his thigh. He was extremely needy for you. You went a few minutes ignoring him.

“Baby, I need you”

you finally snap. You lightly smack him across the face. You grab his face and force him to look at you, making him pucker his lips.

“Whine one more time ,Thorpe. You do and you won’t get anything.”

You say through your teeth. There were only 3 other people in the theater. You and him were sitting in the far back row.

_______________________________________

You open the door to your dorm and run to your bed. He stands in front of you. You grab him my his hair and pull him down to your level, kissing him deeply. He groans on your lips as you pulled his hair, knowing it was a turn off. Xavier tugs on your shirt, signaling to take it off.

“Who said you where in charge?”

You grab his shoulders and push him onto the bed. You take off your shirt and pants. You finally get to your bra and underwear. You look your finger around your waistband. Xavier looks at you in awe. You stop.

Y/ns pov

“Hm, I don’t know. Should I take these off”

he nods. I take them off and kick them to the side. I kick my legs over him, straddling him. I start to grind on his clothed cock.

“Hey, uhm, y/n”

“Yes?”

“Do you think maybe I can..take control tonight?” He asks nervously. I smile and nod.

He smiles back. I continue grinding on his clothes member.

“Sit on my face.” He says. I look at him with a shocked look.

“W..what..?”

“Did I stutter.”

I can tell Xavier has been holding this in forever. He lays down on the bed, waiting for me to sit on his face. I go onto the bed, hovering above his face.

“Sit, slut.” He says. Chills run up my spine at his words.

I sit down, still kind of hovering.

“What the fuck did I say” he growls through his teeth. He pulls me down onto his face.

He licks a strip up my whole and to my clit. He starts flicking his tongue over my clit multiple times. He then starts to eat me out, like it was his last meal ever.

I grab onto the headboard like my life depended on it. I buck my hips trying to get away from his touch. He wraps his arms around my waist, pulling me back down.

“Deal with it, whore”

He starts to suck on my clit. I pull back and succeed at getting away from his tongue. Not like i didn’t want him to eat me out. He was just to good.

I sit on the other end of the bed. He gets up and crawls over to me

“You really think you can fucking do that?”

I close my legs, tight. He pulls them apart and dives back in. My eyes roll back.

“Oh my fucking god!” I yell.

“That’s right. Be loud for me”

He takes his mouth away and starts to rub on my clit.

“Open” he says.

I open my mouth and he shoved his fingers into my mouth. He pulls them out and shove them into me, going painfully slow.

“Fuck! Xavier, please go faster, I can’t do this anymore!! Go as rough and hard as you can. Destroy my pussy!” I yell

He looks up at me and smiles. He goes rough and fast. I yell in pleasure as his other hand still circles my clit, extremely fast. That sent me over the edge.

“I’m close.” I say panting. He puts his mouth back down onto my cunt. He sees a drop of my pre cum drilling down my pussy. He takes his fingers and shoved it back in.

He starts to tounge fuck me.

“Im cumming!” I squeal. I open my eyes and see Xavier in between your my legs. His face was soaked in my juices. He looks down and sees a puddle on my sheets. He gets up.

“I think I need to clean this up” he says sarcastically.

“Sorry.” You say, laughing.

[skzimagines]

Part 14

Characters: Hyunjin x Female reader | Leeknow x female reader | all of Skz | y/n’s friend Ash. |

Genre: obsessive!Hyunjin | Polyamory!relationship |

Warnings: 18+ minors dni | threesome activity | smut | cursing | use of alcohol |

Summary: After Hyunjin comes up with the plan, things go on as normal between the three, until the rest of the group catches up, growing suspicious. How will they tell the group?

—————————————————————————————

“We really need to figure out a room situation, because I’m not doing this again, I’m too old.” Minho groans, sitting up from laying on the couch.

The three of us camped out in the living room last night after our conversation. It was the first night all three of us slept together. It was awkward at first, given the past issues and all, but once we warmed up and started talking, it actually turned into a good night. We all ended up on the couch cuddling watching a movie, before we all fell asleep.

“You’re not old, shut up.” I say, smacking his leg with a chuckle. “Yes he is.” Hyunjin groans while stretching. Hyunjin sits up next to me and kisses my cheek, causing a blush to form across my face. “Morning my beautiful girl.” He whispers in my ear, wrapping his arm around me. He sticks his fingers into my side, causing my body to jolt back and I laugh. “Oh god, please don’t.” I beg through my laughter and he continues to tickle me. I scream with a laugh as he gets on top of me and hold down my arms above my head. He brings his face close to mine. “I love you..” he whispers before pressing a kiss against my lips. I smile into it. “I love you too hyunjin.” I say as he pulls away.

We heard Minho clear his throat and we both sit up to face him. “I’m going to make breakfast, do you guys want some?” Minho asks, throwing the blanket off of himself and standing up. We both agree and Minho begins to walk toward the kitchen. I quickly grab his arm, pulling him back to us. “Wait..” I say. He comes back, sitting down next to us. I move closer to him, wrapping my arm around his shoulders, using my other hand to guide his face towards mine. “You love me too right?” I whisper, giving him an innocent look. “Of course I do.” He whispers back. He places his hand on my cheek, pulling me in. Our lips land on one another’s, and it feels like sparks are flying off the both of us. He grabs my waist, pulling me closer to him. I climb on top of him, straddling his waist. I wrap my arms around his neck, deepening the kiss. We both moan into each others mouths. I pull away to catch my breath, I rub his hair out of his face, rubbing my finger down the side of his cheek. “You’re so beautiful….” I whisper. “No, sweetie.. that’s all you.” He whispers back. “Now, let me go make you some food.” He smiles. Flipping me over and laying me on the bed, he leans over, planting a kiss to my temple before walking into the kitchen. I lay there smiling, biting on my fingernail. “You’re acting like a giddy school girl.” Hyunjin chuckles, coming closer to me, laying his head on my chest and wrapping his arm around my stomach. I sigh, rubbing my hand through his hair. “You can’t love him more than me.” He whispers with a chuckle. I sit up, causing his head to fall and he sits up with me. I grab his face in my hands, setting my forehead against his. “I’ll never love anything more than you my jinnie.” I whisper. A shy smile spreads across his face.

•

Minho makes breakfast for everyone, we’re all sat around the big dinning room table, sharing a meal. Talking about what we were going to do for the day. I’m sat in the middle of Hyunjin and Minho, of course. “So what’s the plan for today?” Jeongin asks, shoving an entire piece of bacon in to his mouth. “Well, there is a movie theater about thirty minutes from here… we could all go see a movie?” Chan says. We all agree, saying that it sounds like a great idea. Giving us some time to relax and finally enjoy each others company, and finish our breakfast. “The baby of the group gets to pick what movie we see.” Ash says, taking everyone’s plates to the sink. Jeongin shouts a loud “yes!” And whips out his phone to look up what movies are playing. He searches for a few minutes, before finding a horror movie playing tonight. “This is the one.” He says excitedly. Everyone agrees, excited for tonight.

•

“I’m not going, I’m staying in bed.” Minho says, throwing himself on to the bed in our shared bedroom. I say ours because we still haven’t figured out the room situation, to be able to stay with Hyunjin, yet. I’m currently standing in front of the mirror hanging up in our room, finishing up my makeup. “Oh no.. you are coming.” I say, looking over my shoulder at him. “I need you there, I’m not good with horror movies.” I say with a chuckle. I smirk plays across his face. “You’ll be alright, you’ve got Hyunjin.” He says teasingly. I scoff. “I love hyunjin, with every ounce of my heart.” I say, looking at him through the mirror. “But.. I feel safer when you’re around.” I say quietly, blushing at my own words. I see him smile at me through the mirror as he gets out of bed, walking up behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist and resting his chin on my should. “I’ll always make you feel safe.” He whispers, before planting a sweet and gentle kiss to my neck. His hands slide underneath the bottom of shirt, rubbing his fingers lightly across my stomach, tickling me slightly, causing me to move back into him. “Minho.. we’re not supposed to do anything without Hyunjin..” I whisper as he continues to kiss up and down my neck. He takes a breathe before attaching his lips and pulling my skin between his lips, sucking a red and purple bruise into my neck. “He does have to know..” he whispers after pulling away. His hand slowly makes its way down the front of my pants. His fingers rubbing slow circles over my clothed core. “Minho.. he’ll be mad.. We- we shouldn’t.” I softly moan out. He chuckled and continues rubbing. “He won’t even know baby, as long as you keep your pretty mouth shut.” He whispers into my ear. I’m quiet as he continues to rub me through my sweat pants. I feel a tingle in my stomach, telling me I’m close. I begin to rut my hips against his hand. “Cum for me sweetheart.” He whispers, rubbing faster. His words send me over the edge, I cum. Leaning against the wall for support as my knee shake with pleasure. “That’s it baby, you’re such a good girl.” He whispers, brushing my hair away from my face.

“Guys let’s go! We’re leaving!” We hear Felix yell from downstairs.

•

After a short drive, we make it to the movie theater. We’re waiting in line to buy our tickets and snack. When Hyunjin comes up behind me and wraps his arms around my waist. “Mmm.. my princess.” He breathes into my ear. A blush forms on my checks. I reach behind me, playing with his hair. “Sit next to me?” I ask, turning around to face him. He smiles, moving my hair to the side. His smile quickly fades, to which I notice. “What’s wrong?” I ask. He brings his hand up, rubbing his fingers on the side of my neck. My heart skips a beat, remembering that Minho had been kissing me there earlier. “What is this?” He asks sternly. “Jinnie.. We didn’t.. we didn’t fuck.” I whisper. “I told you not to do anything without me y/n..” he angrily whispers back. “I’m.. I’m sorry hyunjin.. let’s just please have a good night. Yeah?” I say, squeezing his hands into mine, trying to calm his nerves.

“We’ll have a good time here… but you are in so much trouble when we get home. You understand?” He says.

—————————————————————————————

Part 15

Tag list: @greysweaters-blog @mimihwang248 @armystay89 @berryberrytan @multeciahucho @poetrycassie @s4torii444 @nobody3210 @straykids5star @mabysblog

[i-smoke-chapstick]

HELLO WORKAHOLICS WRITER?!1?11 PLEASE SOME BLAKE HENDERSON FLUFF I BEG I’m torn between making out with him and playing with his hair TY!! ☺️

‘RED WINE SUPERNOVA,

-BLAKE HENDERSON X READER-

⋆ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 ; blake general fluff hcs <3

⋆ tags/warnings. Blake Henderson x female reader. PURE FLUFF <3 This song is SO him, thank god for chappell roan!! making out, playing with his hair (ofc), canon typical drug talk, some vague spicyness. anons i love u pleaseplspls keep sending these requests in im FLOORRRREEDDDD

♫ “I don't care that you're a stoner / Put her canine teeth in the side of my neck / Okay, maybe it's a twin bed, and some roommates.” Red Wine Supernova by Chappell Roan

He is such a BABE

I know I mentioned pet names before, but this man NEVER stops. Ever. There is a never ending list of all the sweet things that come out of this guys mouth. We see him through almost every single season say the word “sweetheart” at least once. It’s his favorite.

And of course, the obligatory “my love,” and “dude” and “brajette” he says 24/7

Getting the craziest stupidest texts with all the ideas he comes up with. Having to talk him down, or if you wanna stir the pot, go ahead and encourage him.

“Babe, you won’t believe the idea I had today. What if we opened a petting zoo, but for people? Like, you pay to come and pet really nice people.”

“Blake, No-“

LOTS of physical affection. Especially showing off infront of the guys. He’s got a girlfriend (probably his first…) and he is in LOVE. He wants to scream it from the rooftops. Besides, out of all the guys, he might be the most insecure deep down. Que his hands wrapped around your waist ALL the time, or hugs from behind. Tackles you with kisses.

Insists on being incredibly chivalrous. Type of guy to run up to any door you need to open JUST so he can open it up for you first. Or, if you and the boys are out on the roof, he’s keeping an arm secured tightly around you. Just so you don’t fall.

Also insists on dragging you along with him everywhere he goes.

Get’s really nervous and excited whenever you reciprocate the affection, but he melts right into it. Seeing you wearing his clothes gives him a heart attack /pos

He’s just so caring. Type of boyfriend to check in on you, make sure you’re eating. He’ll give you a high-five if you eat a taco in two bites, incredibly impressed and just wowed by you. You have his utmost support in everything you do.

The dominant energy and he’s a golden retriever boyfriend LAWD

Him getting reallllll back into theater, wanting to act out some monologues. Attempting to read off Romeo and Juliet, butchering the old english. He’ll have you hold whatever script he’s got, wanting you to check his lines and prompt him.

Talking about dreams with eachother. Getting highly philosophical while he paints your nails, both of you high off your asses. Listening to whatever music CD you two play.

“You know, I think I missed my true calling as a nail artist.” When he’s done, admiring his handiwork.

He just loves DOING things with you. You guys will need to get Der’s to drive you out somewhere, and he’ll take you to a nature park or arcade with the boys. Or if it’s a one on one date thingy, he’ll try his absolute best to cook a frozen pizza. When he inevitably burns it, he’ll take you late night snack shopping and push you around in the cart.

Would love to have you in his WoW guild <3 He’s such a giant nerd ahhh

You’re the ONLY person he lets touch his hair. Anyone else he immediately gets defensive with. But with you? Oh my god, he feels honored. And it feels good. Especially when you snake your hand through his curls while you two are sneaking kisses at some strangers house party.

Speaking of kisses…

Ultimate neck-kisser. That one scene, when he’s with the girl in the pool, and he flips her around kinda roughly so he can kiss her neck? Yeah, it’s those small slight acts of dominance that come out when he knows you’re comfortable with him and just as horny as he is.

The heavy breathing, the way he clings to you. He just can’t keep his hands off of you. One on your face, one on your waist, letting you climb into his lap. When he notices it’s getting real hot and heavy, he’ll flip you over so he’s on top ;)

Those little high-pitched moans he lets out with no shame. The little soft utterances of “Oh god,” and “Damn, you’re so fucking hot. Like, crazy hot.” Quickly muttered between open mouthed kisses he plants on you <3

Mmm the french kissing, the shotgunning smoke out of his mouth while he holds you’re chin, his sharp little canines brushing up against your neck when he bites down softly.

You know that little meme thats like, “If I was a worm, would you still love me?”

If you turned into a worm he’d build you a little sanctuary and take care of you everyday.

[optimistic-autistic]

Another thing I’d like to say about a potential Hadestown movie is that, regardless of it being animated or live action (but hopefully animated and please not live action I’m begging) they don’t cast huge household name celebrities as the main characters unless it really works. I gave it a pass with Ariana in Wicked because she actually loved and wanted the role and genuinely gave it her all, but unless it’s just like her case they should just go for lesser known people with a background in theater. Perhaps they could reprise some people from the original show if they have experience in the new medium.

I also hope the movie wouldn’t be horribly over-marketed, either. That was one of my biggest issues with the Wicked movie. Don’t get me wrong, advertising is definitely beneficial and I don’t mind a bit of merch that are in good faith, but… if I end up having to see my beloved Orpheus and Eurydice commercialized and plastered on literally every store product just like Elphie and Glinda this year, I’m gonna throw up.

over-marketed hadestown movie haunts my nightmares. i'm not sure if a movie would be a good thing in general but if it has to be made, please get someone who knows about the show. please get someone who knows about theatre and understands the play. and dear gods please make it animated. and have a good cast.

[hekateinhell]

Lestat pov ddg and knifeplay pt 2 please!!! <3

Anything for you! 🥹

Here's what I have for knifeplay pt 2 (this is pt 1):

Never, in all his years, has Armand ever seen another immortal in such a delirious state of ecstasy that was not induced through the swoon as Lestat is now.

He listens, taking great care to maintain a separation of his senses. Drags his finger over the concave beneath Lestat’s eye—the same one that had been taken from him and then restored—gathering up the fluid there and licking it off his fingertip. Permitting himself a single suck to ensure no residue was left behind. 

Of course Lestat’s tears would taste as sweet as the rest of him.

Fascinating as ever to bear witness to emotions and sensations taking form in the minds of others, especially one Armand loved and valued such as him.

The echo of their willing victim’s shallow breaths swirl in the air to meld with the wet sounds of Louis slicing into Lestat’s immaculate flesh with the loving precision that a butcher bestows on his most prized cut of meat fit for a royal feast. Lestat’s thoughts had become less pronounced until they lost shape entirely, falling apart some time ago like a poorly constructed dress on a mannequin, tattered scraps held together by nothing but rusted pins and hope. Distorted without word or sound, mindless flashes of color and static, the useless dreams of a beast who does not realize it can dream. His grey eyes fixed open, glassy but bright, tinted with a reddish film reminiscent of something violently killed until enough tears have amassed that they spill over, permitting the cleansing cycle to start anew.

“You do so well, Lestat, so beautiful,” Armand murmurs praise into his ear, caressing the spot where his hairline meets his temple, the blood sweat staining the white-blond baby hairs. It is for Louis’s benefit that he speaks at all, seeing as Lestat is well past hearing either of them through any means.

For now Armand is content to speculate and facilitate, dipping his hands in and out of each wound to coat his fingers a warm and sticky crimson, the liquid seeping underneath his nails, greedy and wretched as a gluttonous child left unattended in a candy shop.

----

I hope to have it finished sometime this summer! ♥️ I'll slide Lestat POV DDG under the cut!

Lestat’s sophomore year—she’s had more than enough first days of school at this point—and yet somehow the anxiety in her stomach never goes away. She’s already anticipating the frustration, the tears, the begging Nicki to help with her papers because flunking a class would mean losing her scholarship to the theater program.

And Nicki has being so irritable with her lately, “Just go to the fucking tutoring center yourself, Lestat! Even you aren’t that dumb” she would snap, storming away, leaving Lestat staring numbly at the screen, unable to translate the thoughts in her head into words on the page in a way that made sense to her or anybody.

I’m not dumb...

“Lestat!” Eleni yells, waving as she bounds up the short steps outside of the liberal arts building. “What’s wrong with you?” She’s still catching her breath, god knows Eleni’s never been anywhere on time a day in her life.

“Nothing,” Lestat lies, shaking her head and taking one last hit of her vape, tilting her head back to blow a strawberry-scent cloud into the air.

Eleni narrows her eyes, but she doesn’t say anything. She’s met Nicki. She knows. That’s the shame of it, isn't it? Everyone knows.

And how had this happened? Was there truly nothing to spare the daughter the fate of the mother? How could Lestat not see it coming when she’d grown up knowing the warning signs before she even knew her ABCs and 123s?

“Come on,” Eleni puts her hand on Lestat’s arm like she’s guiding a lost child—her touch that careful, her tone that gentle.

Nicki aside, Eleni was her closest friend. Truth be told, Lestat didn’t have many friends. More acquaintances than she could care to remember, much less name.

Try as she might, she had never really stopped being the gangly little girl curled up in the corner with a book she couldn’t read, staring at the pictures until she saw spots dancing and her vision blurred, pretending she hadn’t even wanted to play with the other kids anyway. Who wanted to be friends with the kid with ratty hair and torn up clothes, eight-years-old and still unable to read because none of the adults in her life gave a fuck? Nobody wants you… Why should we?

Except Eleni had. Nicki had.

----

And that's as far as I got before I realized the story needed to go back to Armand's pov! Not that I wasn't happy with it or anything, but it was just starting to tell an entirely different story than the one that I wanted to!