#so here's hoping they filmed them now for continuity purposes

[sarah-cam]

the fact that we're probably getting all these scenes in conrad's pov in s3 is quite literally the only thing keeping me sane right now

[rafesaddiction]

It's still not cheating when he's your enemy – Rafe Cameron x Pogue!Reader (Part 2)

see here for part 1 and here for part 2.5

Summary: You just want to make a living, but Rafe Cameron keeps showing up and disturbing you while you're working. He's so damn annoying – and hot.

Concept: enemies, Who did this to you?

Warnings: mdni! – smut, rough sex, p in v, cheating (reader cheats on boyfriend), aggression, violence, manhandling, choking, cursing, name calling (reader is called a whore), mentions of assault (not by rafe), mean!rafe, also dark!rafe and protective!rafe

Word count: 4.7k

tagging those who asked for a part 2 @sublimepenguinpeach-blog @niyahwhoreworld @luvagirlsworld @elizzzzz143 @ghostlycrystobalove @fabienne6656 @noodle81937 @sadexact @marauderssmut @daydreamerblues I hope you'll enjoy this.

“I knew that ass looked familiar!”

You frowned as you heard that dark voice behind you, but you didn't turn around. You pretended not to have heard anything and went on scrubbing the wall with the sponge. You were kinda good at that – not at the scrubbing, but at ignoring catcalls. You had suffered like a lot in the last 30 minutes or so alone. At least half of the dozen cars that had passed behind you on the street had honked at you while you had been trying to clean some graffiti off the supposedly historical wall of this supposedly historical building. They wouldn't let you use any hard chemicals (not that you could've afforded them) to get rid off the paint because they would destroy the precious stone, or whatever. So cleaning the wall took ages. Sadly you were not paid by the hour, but by results alone. The graffiti was actually some insulting – and very true – statement about kooks. You thought that the handwriting looked somewhat familiar. And you almost suspected your boyfriend’s best friend to be the unknown author. You could almost hear him say that he did this on purpose just to create jobs, which was absolutely stupid, and therefore could've been true.

“Hey!” that voice again, and you rolled your eyes, unseen by the one addressing you. You still didn’t turn around to the car that was driving by slowly. And now it seemed to have stopped. You heard a car door open, but you ignored that too as you bent down to soak the sponge in the bucket of water, which was almost black by now from the paint and the dirt from the wall.

It was still early morning, not too hot, but cleaning this damn wall was hard work, and a light film of sweat had gathered on your forehead. You wiped it away with the back of your hand, before stretching your arms high above your head to start scrubbing again. The foamy water ran along your bare arms. You were wearing a cropped top and jeans shorts. You should’ve worn gloves to protect the skin on your hands from the cleanser, you thought, when you heard that voice again. So close, it made you freeze and your breath hitched.

“Did no one ever tell you it’s impolite not to answer when spoken to?”

A shiver you tried to ignore ran down your spine as you felt his presence so very close behind you. You couldn't help but close your eyes for a moment, when you smelled his scent; his dark, expensive cologne filling your lungs, your senses, and as if your body remembered, light goosebumps covered your skin – and you felt that throbbing between your legs.

“Or do you think I'm just a daydream?”

The arrogant tone in his voice drove you mad. You opened your eyes, your jaw clenched, but you continued staring at the wall.

Whereas before you had only felt his presence, you could now feel his touch. He was standing directly behind you, his chest brushing against your back as he leaned closer, his face next to yours, his lips moved close to your ear, while one of his hands found the exposed skin on your stomach. His long fingers slowly travelled under your top, shoving it up.

“I promise I'm real,” he whispered into your ear.

You shuddered, his hand cupping the underside of your breast, and you hated how your body reacted, how your traitorous nipples perked up, how your stupid legs got wobbly. You involuntarily let out a moan as his lips found your skin, touching that very sensitive spot under your ear.

You couldn't have this, not here on a public street in broad daylight, and not with him, not with Rafe fucking Cameron.

You spun around, saw a smug grin on his ridiculously handsome face and shoved the wet sponge right into his arrogant face – and you again wished that you'd have been able to afford more aggressive chemicals.

“What the fuck!” He exclaimed, moved a step back, rubbing his face, blinking, and looking at you both angry and in confusion, his mouth slightly open, his head tilted to the side, as if he expected you to explain your behavior to him when his behavior had been anything than appropriate or normal!

You looked at him with a little triumphant grin on your lips. But your small victory didn't last long.

His hand shot to your throat, gripping it so hard, your back was forcefully pushed against the wall, making you wince. Your hands wrapped around his arm, trying to fight him off, already struggling to breathe. And on top of that, his sudden proximity overwhelmed all your senses as his body was caging you in, making you feel his power over you. The look on Rafe's face was menacing; his brows furrowed, his eyes darkened, he seemed ready to kill.

Rafe moved so close that you felt his breath on your face, brushing against your skin. You could do nothing but gaze at him as you struggled to get out of his grip, in vain.

But suddenly Rafe's tense features changed. His eyes widened for a moment, then narrowed and he tilted your head to the side, inspecting your face, to be precise inspecting the left side of your face. And you knew what he was looking at.

“Who did this to you?”

He was looking at the bruise on your left cheek. Not just cheek, the black and blue mark covered almost half your face, from your eye to your jaw.

Rafe let go off your throat, placing both his palms on either side of your head on the wall. He was in fact caging you in now.

“No one,” you snapped, scowling at him. You tried to cover the bruise with your hair, but Rafe didn't allow it. He grabbed your wrist, held it, made you flinch at his strength. He would probably leave his own mark there.

“Bullshit,” he growled. “Tell me. Who did this? Your boyfriend?”

You detected something strange in his voice, but you couldn't quite place it, it sounded almost like he was being cautious, which was ridiculous. Rafe Cameron was never cautious or hesitant with his words. And despite that somewhat strange tone in his voice, it was commanding and he seemed to believe that he was entitled to get an explanation from you.

“No!” You frowned at him and managed to pull your hand free, so you could use both your hands to shove him away – or try to. He didn't move an inch while your hands lay on his broad chest. You could feel the hard muscles underneath his shirt. You could feel his rapid heartbeat. His chest rising and falling as he stared at you intensely.

“Like you would care anyway…” Your voice soft and unsteady.

You expected him to say something disregarding like that he didn't give a fuck and that would end this conversation – this tense situation. But he didn't. Rafe looked at you with a stern expression and when he spoke, there wasn't even a hint of mockery in his voice.

“Who did this to you?” He asked again.

There was something so earnest in his tone that you just looked at him, stunned, for a second. You felt your heart beat so violently, it felt like he must have heard it too.

You bit your lips and averted your gaze.

But Rafe wouldn't let you. His fingers under your chin, guided your face, made you look at him. And he gazed at you. His blue eyes so dark, so intense, they were penetrating you. And you shuddered.

“My landlord,” you answered his question, unable to resist his demanding tone any longer.

Rafe didn't say anything, but looked at you, waiting for you to continue.

You felt a lump in your throat and your voice sounded weak when you spoke more.

“I couldn't pay the rent and he ‘suggested' another form of payment. But I –” The fresh memory made your voice trail off and you felt tears gathering in your eyes.

“Did you?” His voice was low.

“No!” You glared at him, some of that familiar anger returning and making your voice stronger. “I'm not a whore!”

Rafe's words from the other night were still clear in your mind and fueled your rage anew. You tensed up and suddenly realized that your hands were clawing at his shirt. You kept them there and you looked Rafe straight into the eyes when you continued, “I told him to shove it and kicked him in the balls.”

Was that a hint of a smirk on Rafe's lips?

“But when I tried to get away, he gripped my hair, yanked me about and smacked my face against the doorframe. I wriggled out of his grip and ran. End of story.”

You gave Rafe's chest a shove and this time he moved a little back. So you ducked under his arm and walked off.

But you didn't get far.

His hand caught your wrist. He spun you around and you slumped against his chest, gasping in surprise before his lips covered yours.

You reacted without thinking. Your mouth opened, your lips moved against his. It was pure impulse, so strong you couldn't resist. You felt his strong hand grabbing the back of your neck as he kissed you, kissed you deeply.

Waves and waves of intense electric tension were rushing through your body. For a moment you felt like you could let your guard down and just melt into his touch, melt against his body.

But you couldn't let that happen. This was never going to happen. The harshness of reality woke you up.

You pulled back and smacked his cheek with your hand, so hard, so loud, your palm burned.

Rafe looked at you, his lips parted – so dangerously close to yours…

“I could give you the money –”

His features were so soft, and the way he looked at you, it made your chest tighten and you felt your tears returning.

“Fuck you! I told you I’m no whore! I'm no one's whore! Not his and certainly not YOURS!” You screamed those words right at his face.

And Rafe just stood there. He did not attempt to grab you again, to pull you close, to kiss you, to hold you...

He just stood there and looked at you. Then his mouth closed and he nodded and his lips moved again, but you couldn't hear what he was saying, as if he was talking to himself. And then he just turned around and walked away, got into his jeep and drove off.

And you exhaled, and all tension fell from your body. You were shivering and no longer held those tears back. You cried out and a passing driver looked at you in confusion and you yelled after him to fuck off and kicked at the water bucket – and regretted it a second later. You would have to get fresh water and then start working again. You had wasted more than enough time already. Because of Rafe fucking Cameron.

***

A few days later.

“What you doing here?”

Fuck, was he everywhere? You looked up from your phone and saw Rafe Cameron on his dirt bike, just having taken off his helmet, smoothing down his hair with his free hand – and grinning at you.

You glared at him and focused on your phone again, leaning with your back against the shop window. You tried your best to ignore him, hoping that he would for once get the hint.

It had been only three days since your last encounter; the bruise was still showing on your face, the cheap make up you had wasn't enough to cover it completely, but you had arranged your hair in a way that hid most of it – at least you hoped it did.

“Waiting for clients?” Rafe’s voice sounded closer. Obviously he hadn’t taken the hint.

You didn't look up, but you could see and feel his shadow on you. He had gotten off his bike and walked over to you.

“Fuck off, asshole. I have no time for your bullshit.”

You looked up from your phone to glare at him.

He stood directly in front of you, had stopped about two feet away. It annoyed you how much your body already reacted to his presence. Your skin buzzing without his hands even touching it.

Rafe's hand moved to his head, combing through his hair.

“What are you doing here?” You hoped you sounded as annoyed as you were.

“Buying a new 8-iron.”

You knitted your eyebrows.

“So what are you doing here? All dressed up – like that,” Rafe asked, pointing at your outfit.

You had to admit it was an unusual look for you. You were wearing a white blouse, all buttoned up, and a black pencil skirt reaching to your knees, the fabric stiff and making your thighs itch. It wasn't yours. You had to borrow that skirt from your neighbor.

~~~

When you walked over to your neighbor's door that morning, you looked around nervously, making sure not to accidentally run into your landlord. You wouldn't want to repeat that kind of encounter, especially not today when you had a job interview for a position at a stationery shop on main street. One of those fancy-ass shops where kook parents bought school supplies for their spoiled offspring. With school starting in a few weeks, they had a new position to fill. Though it was just temporary, it was good money, and maybe even a chance for something permanent.

“Try this on, I think it might fit.” Your neighbor held out a black skirt from her closet, handing it to you.

You were standing in her small bedroom, trying not to step on the stuff scattered on the floor. You pulled down your shorts and put on the skirt and frowned at the image of the young woman in the mirror. You did not like it at all, but the skirt looked like something someone working at a kook stationery shop would wear, so it would do.

You thanked your neighbor and were about to leave when you remembered that it had been days since you had last seen your landlord, which was unusual, since he was always lurking around, sitting by the empty pool, shouting at kids or harassing his female tenants. Your neighbor always knew the latest gossip, so you just asked her about his whereabouts.

“Haven't you heard?”

“Heard what?” You frowned at her in confusion.

“He got run over by a car three days ago.”

“Oh,” you said. “Is he alive?” You knew it was bad to wish someone ill, but part of you couldn't help hoping for the worst.

“Barely. He's in intensive care. Can't move a single bone in his body. His jaw is completely crushed.”

“By the car?”

“No. After he'd been hit, the driver got out of the car and beat him up. With a golf club.”

You raised your eyebrows. “With a golf club?”

She nodded.

“And did they, did the police catch whoever…?”

She shook her head. “Strange thing. No one saw anything. Though it happened in broad daylight. On the street right in front of our compound.”

“Huh,” you said.

“Yep,” she shrugged, folding clothes and putting them back into her closet. “And he can't remember anything, he says. Well, he can hardly speak with that fractured jaw. Only liquid diet for him for the next couple of weeks and I guess he won't be around that soon.”

~~~

“I have a job interview, if you must know.”

You put your phone away and pressed your now empty palms against the cool glass behind you.

“A job interview?” Rafe cocked his head.

“Yeah. You know, some people actually do have to get jobs and work for a living.”

You expected him to snap or at least frown at you, but he just grinned.

“So you're nervous?”

You glared at him. “What do you want?”

He chuckled and lifted his hands in a defensive way. “What? Can't I just make friendly conversation?”

The frown on your forehead deepened, your muscles tensing so much, it hurt your damn bruise.

“We are no friends.”

“True,” he shrugged, but he still didn't leave. He just stood there and looked at you. You wondered if he didn't have to be somewhere, but didn't bother to ask, because obviously, the answer would be ‘No'.

You crossed your arms in front of your chest and turned your head in another direction.

Your foot was tapping on the ground, because, yes, you were fucking nervous. This was important and Rafe Cameron standing there and staring at you like that made you nervous in another kind of way. But you couldn't have that now. Or ever.

“I could help you relax, you know.”

Your head spun around to face him, and he looked like he actually meant it.

You glared at him, but fuck, your traitorous body reacted in an instant. Your skin was buzzing, you felt a restlessness that had nothing to do with being nervous about the interview.

“When's the interview?”

You checked the time on your phone. “Twenty minutes.”

“Ah, not nearly enough time,” he said with that cocky grin.

Why the hell could you practically feel his voice crawling under your skin when he was just standing there?

You pressed your legs together, and feeling the rough fabric of that damn skirt on your skin made you even more itchy.

And Rafe just stood there and he looked so fucking handsome, almost sweet with his baby-blue polo shirt, those fucking curtain bangs and that smile. His hand casually touched his lips, effectively drawing your attention to both his lips and those fingers – god, those fingers…

You growled – at least you hoped it sounded like a growl.

“Fuck it.” You exhaled. “Where's your car?”

“I'm afraid the jeep is at the auto shop. I had… an accident.”

Your eyebrows moved up. Did he just grin?

“But I know a place...”

Rafe moved his head, pointing with his chin in the direction before he started walking, and he just grabbed your wrist to pull you along. You mouthed a complaint, but followed him into an alley behind the storefront.

“I’m not gonna let you eat me out between dumpsters.”

Rafe rolled his eyes, but did not say anything. He tugged you along to a door which he somehow managed to open.

He held it open for you to walk inside, which you did, while eyeing him.

“How do you know about this?”

Yet instead of answering, Rafe grabbed your neck and hip and his hungry lips found yours. And this time you didn't push him away. Your hands found his hair, tugging at it as you reacted to the kiss. The moment his lips touched yours, something so hot, so feverish was ignited, and you had no intention to stop it. Your eyes closed and you heard the door fall shut and some clicking sound that must have been a light switch, but you had no intention of checking. Your body and his were so closely entangled, and you just let him move you in the direction he shoved you, practically clinging to each other.

With your eyes closed, you had shut out any rational thinking. All you wanted was feel. Him. Your own hands eagerly slipped under his shirt – under that damn baby-blue shirt that suited him so well. You couldn't wait to get it off of him.

Rafe seemed to be reading your mind – or just your body – he obliged, broke the kiss to take off his shirt.

And you gazed at his perfectly sculptured torso, those abs made you literally lick your lips.

You were slightly panting, when you quickly took in your surroundings. You were in some dusty storage room that didn't seem to be used – except for Rafe's fuckdates probably. The thought should appall you, but fact was, you were so hot for this guy, you were aching for his touch. And the way he looked at you told you, he was as hungry as you were, maybe even more – blue eyes so intensely gazing at you, you felt naked when still fully clothed. That throbbing between your legs was getting unbearable and you knew that your panties must be soaking wet by now. Just from that damn kiss. That damn hot kiss.

You saw him lick his lips and your breath hitched.

“So are you gonna get on your knees now?” You tried to make your voice sound firm when you felt your body trembling with anticipation.

Rafe chuckled and shook his head.

Stunned for a moment, you just gaped at him, but the next moment he grabbed you and turned you around, and you managed just in time to brace yourself with your hands before colliding with the wall. You let out a gasp.

You craned your head back, as you heard him unzip his pants.

“Fuck, you promised to go down on me!”

“Never said that. I said I'd make you relax.” You could only hear his dark voice, but you were sure he was smirking.

You felt the hot touch of his fingertips on your thigh, felt his hand moving under your skirt, moving between your legs that just parted on their own. You shivered, mewled, and your eyes rolled back into your head. Such a light touch shouldn't affect you that much. You frowned at yourself and reached back to slap at his arm, a rather half-hearted attempt to stop him.

“Oh, you don’t want my cock inside you? I can just leave…” The arrogant tone in his voice made you growl. And the touch of his fingertip grazing over the fabric of your panties – your soaking wet panties – made you moan.

This guy made you so incredibly mad – and needy.

You scoffed and mumbled a curse.

You gripped the hem of your skirt and shoved it up over your waist, pulled down your panties, and they dropped to the floor. You faced the wall, pushing your naked ass out, arching your back and spreading your legs.

“Fuck me. And make me cum”, you commanded – hoping he wouldn't realize how much you were aching for his cock to fill you.

You heard him exhale and shuffle behind you. His large hand on your hip, you felt his length brushing along your slit, pulsing.

“And make it quick,” you said, already panting.

“That I can't promise.”

You were about to talk back, when Rafe's grip got firmer and his hard cock pushed into you, taking all your breath away.

And that was everything you felt from that moment on; your whole being was literally centered around Rafe Cameron’s cock buried deep inside you. Your walls clenched tightly around him, but he pushed harder, thrust into you with his whole length. You heard him inhale sharply and he remained still for a moment. Then his cock slowly retreated, before thrusting even harder into you.

You found your breath again, panting, moaning, whimpering as he fucked you.

His arms wrapped around you from behind, one hand grabbing your throat, causing you to tense up more, and feeling another rush flooding your senses. He growled close to your ear. Your back arching, moving at his will. You were burning up and shivering at the same time. His other hand pressed against your lower stomach as he continued fucking you from behind, causing you to flinch. His fingertip rubbed your clit – damn, it shouldn’t be so easy for him to find exactly the right spot right away and to give you what your body craved for.

His touch was rough and ruthless, nothing tender about the way he fucked you and pushed you quickly close to the edge. You couldn't even try to hold it back. Your orgasm hit you hard and you moaned shamelessly as he was fucking you through your high. Your body not feeling like your own anymore but something Rafe was in charge off. And he was in absolute control over your sensations, your body, your desires. You were still riding on that high, legs shaking, when you felt another climax building up inside you.

You lost all sense of time or place or anything. You didn't just feel his cock inside you, his hands on your body, his breath on your skin. You felt him everywhere. Every cell of your body was filled with him, his power, his greedy nature. And you'd never felt so much like yourself.

He made you cry out and whine, moan and whimper pathetically as he fucked you relentlessly, turning you into something he used to satisfy his seemingly insatiable appetite.

When you thought you couldn't take anymore, when your body was nothing but a trembling mess at his mercy, he grabbed you harder, fucked you deeper, and hotly groaned into your ear.

You screamed his name, so loud, your lungs burned.

Your body convulsing as you felt his hot cum spilling into you.

His hand turned your face sideways and he whispered something into your ear, but you didn't get the words, only felt his hot breath, only felt his hard cock pushing again into you, up to the hilt.

You had no chance of stopping all those pathetic sounds coming from you, as your body was convulsing around his.

He held you, for a while. You were panting heavily, as you felt his heartbeat at your back.

Your whimpering sounds stopped and your breathing was eventually calming down.

When he pulled out, you almost collapsed to the floor, as your legs seemed unable to carry your own weight. He caught you. Rafe slowly turned you around and held you.

You looked at him, his face flushed, his lips parted as he seemed out of breath too. There was something in his eyes, something so soft. Something that was ripping at your chest.

He slowly moved closer. And the tightness in your chest was unbearable. You pushed him away.

He stepped back and bent down to pick up your panties, handing them to you.

You watched him through narrowed eyes as you put them on. You winced when you felt his warm cum dripping out of you. You glared at him as he grinned.

“Don't you ever use a condom?”

He grinned more and shrugged. “Consider it a lucky charm. For your interview.”

You froze as reality hit you hard.

“Fuck.”

Hastily you smoothed down your crumpled clothes and checked your phone. You were late for the interview. And looked like a fucking mess. Your hair in disarray, your face glowing, sweat covering your body. You looked like you had just been fucked into oblivion.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” You looked at the camera and tried to at least wipe away the smudged mascara from your cheeks.

You looked up and saw Rafe, who was just standing there, shirtless, his heaving chest covered in a light film of sweat. He looked at you with that look.

“I hate you.” You scowled at him.

And he just shrugged. “I don't care as long as I get to fuck that fine pussy of yours.”

A surge of hot rage was about to make you jump at him, scratch his blue eyes out, kick his balls, hit his handsome face – but you just let out an exasperated growl, and pushed him out of the way as you left the storage room as fast as you could – thanks to Rafe Cameron that wasn't too fast, as your legs were shaking and you were goddamn sore from being fucked so thoroughly.

a/n This got kinda long and has a lot of plot. Sorry. Reader and Rafe somehow wouldn’t shut up. I appreciate all your feedback and thank you for reading!

[recklesssturniolo]

pleaseeee write where Chris and y/n sit in the back for a car video (they’re just friends at this point) and she keep grazing and touching him knowing exactly what she’s doing. Matt and Nick have to run in target after filming and Chris takes the opportunity and gives her a little punishment in the car 😇😇😇 (lots of dirty talkkk)

Car Video - C.S

As requested !! Dom!Chris

Hope you enjoyyyy🫶🏻

NSFW below, leave if you’re a minor

After being convinced by Nick to join them filming a car video, I had now just sat down in the back and greeted all 3 boys.

“Alright now how did you end up in the back? What happened to passenger princess Chris?” I laugh looking over at Chris.

“Oh do not even get him started on being in the back, bro lost a bet with me and hasn’t stopped crying about not having the front seat since we got in the van” Nick says turning around to face me.

“Oh you poor baby” I say to Chris as I place my hand on his thigh and faking a pout.

“Yeah yeah whatever let’s just get the video filmed” Chris mumbles out.

Nick starts the video off and not surprisingly is now on a rant about god knows what. I glance over at Chris and can’t help but notice how good he looks. He was only in grey sweats and a white tank top, but him manspreading with his arms crossed against his chest and head thrown back was doing things to me.

I lean over and whisper in his ear, being aware that the angle I was at he could see my cleavage, “Look any more miserable?”

“If Nick keeps talking I promise I will” He quietly laughs back, but I notice his eyes drop down to my chest for a moment after he speaks.

“Holy fuck Nick okay we get it enough” Matt exclaims.

Thanks to Matt the topic is switched. Chris now talking about his preferred superhero and why, then Matt giving his opinion. Without looking at him I place my hand on his thigh, purposely close to his dick. I feel his eyes flick over to me. I slightly move my hand up and down his thigh as I continuing debating with the 3 of them. Noticing out of the corner of my eye his hands move to seemingly cover his dick.

“Something wrong?” I ask him quietly.

“Nope, just getting comfortable” He responds back with a smile.

I took that as a note that I wasn’t teasing him well enough. I purposely lean over the console, knowing all Chris could see was my ass and pretend to be reading something off Nick’s phone. Sitting back down I hear a slight groan come from Chris as I place my hand now directly on his dick which I could immediately tell was hard. Thankfully, the angle the camera was at it wouldn’t be able to see it.

“Feels like you’re a bit worked up eh?” I smirk at Chris, obviously referring to the fact that he was hard.

“You know exactly what you’re doing Y/N” He says back, his eyes narrowed.

“Do I?” I reply, moving my hand slightly to apply pressure to his dick. At that he thrusts his hips up ever so lightly, only causing me to continue to palm him through his sweats.

“Y/N! Chris! Were either of you even listening to me?” Nick shouts. Causing both of us to flinch slightly and me to remove my hand from his dick - obviously not wanting Nick to see it there.

“Uh” I mumble.

Nick rolls his eyes and repeats himself, “I said, Matt and I are running into target for a few things, do you guys just want to wait in here?”

“Oh yeah that’s fine we’ll just wait here” Chris immediately responds, not even giving me a chance to.

“Alright we won’t be long, text us anything you guys want” Nick replies before both him and Matt get out of the van.

Knowing I had just teased Chris for about 30 minutes, I got a bit nervous, not quite knowing what to say.

“All quiet now?” Chris asks me with his head slightly tilted, moving himself closer to me.

“What?” I respond.

“You think you get to tease me like that and then just sit there all innocent afterwards?” He questions, his lips now inches away from mine.

“I - uh no I was just waiting?” I say but it comes out more as a question.

“Yeah? Waiting for what? To be treated like the slut you are?” He smirks and then connects our lips. His hand around my throat as our tongues fight for dominance. The kiss filled with passion and need, both of us acknowledging how long we’ve wanted this for.

As he begins kissing down my neck, Chris’ hands make their way down my thighs before coming up and brushing against the waistband of my shorts, his fingers slipping under and pulling slightly.

“Gonna let me take these off and fuck you pretty girl?” He asks.

“Yes, fuck please” I moan out, knowing how needy it sounded but not caring.

As he takes off my shorts, I see a smirk come onto his face before he says, “Look at you, so fucking wet. Such a little whore” His fingers slightly rubbing my pussy.

“Chris” I whine out, “We don’t have much time”

“I know baby” He nods, taking off his sweats and boxers.

Pulling my legs gently so I lay on my back on the seats, he opens my legs wider and runs his tip between my folds, using my arousal to slick himself up. Quickly, he lines himself up with my entrance, and pushes himself in.

I immediately cry out his name, my hands pulling at his hair as I did so.

“Fuck you’re so tight” Chris groans out.

Without warning, he picks up his pace and begins slamming himself into me.

“Oh my god oh my god” I moan out, my nails digging into his back in response to the increase in pleasure.

“Such a pretty slut taking me so well. Is this what you wanted?” He questions, his dick still pounding into me.

“Yes my god, just what I wanted” I stutter out, feeling my climax creeping up. “Chris don’t stop I’m gonna come”

“Good, come on my dick baby” He groans out, grabbing my legs and wrapping them around his waist. Dipping his head down after and kissing my chest.

“Fuck fuck Chris I’m coming oh my god” I whimper out. My legs barely able to stay wrapped around his waist as I clenched around him, and he continued to thrust himself in and out of me.

“Such a good girl coming for me” Chris says, earning a moan in response from me. Moments after his dick beginning to twitch inside of me.

“Chris, come in my mouth” I tell him, it coming out as almost a whisper.

“Of course you want that, fucking whore” He grunts out, but nonetheless after a few more thrusts he moves his dick to my mouth, not even giving me a moment to adjust before it’s hitting the back of my throat and his come fills my mouth.

“Swallow all of it, I know you can” Chris moans out, his hand on the back of my head.

He pulls out of my mouth shortly after, my hand wiping the come on my chin that had dripped out as Chris watched, “Fuck I never want that image to ever leave my head”

“Chris that was so good” I state, out of breath but now in a small state of shock that we actually just fucked.

“Yeah it was, I always knew you wanted me” He smirked back. Causing me to smack his chest in response. “Oh don’t worry I’ve always wanted you too”

“Wait shit Chris get dressed I can see Nick and Matt” I practically yell.

We both get dressed again and attempt to look as casual as possible before his brothers got back in.

“Why the fuck does is smell like that?” Matt asks almost immediately.

“Like what?” Chris retorts.

“It smells like fucking sex” Matt tells him.

“Oh my god, there is no way you two just had sex while we were inside” Nick interrupts.

Chris and I both flushed red and unfortunately both struggled to come up with a response fast enough.

“You did! You dirty freaks! I’m the one that almost always sits back there, I’m going to be sick” Nick gags.

“I agree it’s sickening but on a good note for me, Nick you owe me $20” Matt smiles.

“You BET on us having sex?” Chris and I yell out.

“I mean yeah, no one’s that stupid. We’ve seen the way you both look at each other. Nick and I have had this bet going for 2 weeks now” Matt laughed.

“Yeah and you stupid fucks couldn’t wait just one more week and have me win the bet” Nick grumbles out.

“This is so embarrassing Jesus Christ, Matt drive home” I mumble out, my face in my hands.

“Yeah and once we are home, you’re both cleaning those fucking seats” Nick yells.

Chris assures him we will and laughs a bit as he throws his arm around my shoulders.

TAGLIST: @devsturniolo @strniolosworld

[storiesforallfandoms]

play date ~ ryan gosling

word count: 2386

request?: yes!

“hi could i request a ryan gosling x reader”

description: when he goes to pick up his daughter from a play date, he finds himself drawn to the mother of the other girl

pairing: ryan gosling x female!reader

warnings: swearing

masterlist (one, two, three)

Ryan pulled up to a house, double checking the address Eva had given him. It was the day he was supposed to pick up the girls for his week with them, but Eva hadn’t told him that they were over to a friend’s place for a play date. When he showed up on her doorstep, she seemed confused at first, until realization hit her.

“Shit,” she said. “They’re not here, they’re at a friend’s place. I totally forgot you were getting them today and forgot to tell you. Hold on, let me get the address.”

He knew it wasn’t on purpose that Eva let the girls go on a play date when he was supposed to be picking them up. He knew she had genuinely forgot what day it was, and didn’t think to tell him before he showed up. Their separation was amicable, and they continued to be friendly for the sake of their daughters. But that didn’t make the back and forth with the girls any harder. He didn’t want them to have to go through this; neither of them did. They fought so hard to make the relationship work, but in the end they had to make the difficult decision.

It was hard to be away from his girls. Ryan and Eva had come up with a schedule where the girls would go back and forth between them on a weekly basis, and specific holidays, but the schedule was often changed when Ryan had to film or do press tours. There were times when he went several weeks without seeing them, which had always been hard on him but, for some reason, it had been a lot harder since the separation.

No, he didn’t want to take the girls from their play date if they weren’t ready to go, but he was excited to finally get to have his time with them again.

He walked up to the front door and knocked. A few moments passed before a young woman opened the door. She seemed shocked to see Ryan on her doorstep, and he hoped he wasn’t about to have a fangirl encounter by the person who was looking after his kids.

“Can I help you?” she asked.

Ryan waited a moment before responding, trying to figure out if this was her genuine reaction or if she was just playing it cool. “I’m here to pick up my daughters.”

“What are their names?”

“What?”

“Your daughters, what are their names?” Ryan told her, but she continued to look at him skeptically. Wait, what? “Do you have some ID on you?”

A scoffed slipped from Ryan’s lips. “Are you serious?”

“Listen, I’m not just letting kids go with any strange man who shows up on my doorstep claiming to be their dad. That’s how kids get kidnapped.”

What she was saying made sense, and Ryan probably would’ve appreciated her extreme caution with his kids under different circumstances. But right now he just wanted to see his girls. He opened his mouth to respond, but was cut off by two small voices calling, “Daddy!” before two bodies barreled into him. Any annoyance melted away as he wrapped his arms around the young girls.

“Hey sweethearts,” he said, kissing each of them on the top of their heads. “You guys having a good play date?”

“Yeah!” they both said.

“Are you ready to go home? Let’s go get your things.”

He didn’t wait for the woman to invite him in. She had already stepped aside when the girls had come out, so he simply walked past her without any acknowledgement. The girls raced down the hallway and turned to go down a flight of stairs where the voices of other children could be heard. Ryan waited at the doorway of the porch.

“Sorry for the second degree,” the woman said. “I try to be protective over the children in my care. You never know what kind of sickos are out there.”

“It’s okay. I understand,” Ryan assured her. And it was actually okay. He had come to his senses finally. “Are you, like, an at home daycare?”

“Oh, no. I have a boy around the same age as your girls. I usually host the playdates for all the kids in the same grade. So, maybe I am an at home daycare at this point. My name is (Y/N), by the way.”

“Ryan.”

He shook her hand, waiting for her to connect the dots. He expected to see realization in her eyes, followed by the inevitable freaking out over meeting him. But it didn’t come. She shook his hand with a friendly smile before pulling her hand away. She gestured for him to come inside, so he followed her further into the house. He was feeling very shocked by the fact that this person wasn’t acknowledging his celebrity status, but he also wasn’t about to bring it up. This might be his one chance to feel normal for a few minutes, and he didn’t know her enough to know whether or not he could trust her with his kids after she found out he was famous.

(Y/N) led him to her kitchen and went to the fridge. “Do you want anything to drink?”

“I’m good, thanks.”

She gave him a look. “Those girls aren’t gonna be ready any time soon. You might want to make yourself comfortable.”

Ryan chuckled as he realized that she was right. It had definitely been enough time for the girls to get their things together and be ready to leave. Instead, he heard children giggling from downstairs, which he was sure was the kids playing again.

“Do you do all of this on your own?” Ryan asked as they sat down at (Y/N)’s table. “Being a not daycare?”

(Y/N) chuckled. “Yeah, I do. Sometimes some of the other parents will bring snacks and stuff when they drop their kids off, but no one sticks around to help. Not that I really need it, though. There’s not a lot of kids here usually, and they’re all very well behaved.”

“Your son’s dad doesn’t help out?”

She shook her head. “He’s not in the picture. He hasn’t been for a long time. Ever, really.”

Ryan winced. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be. I’m not looking for sympathy or anything. This is how things have been for me since Jake was born. My ex skipped down when I found out I was pregnant, so I got over it long ago.”

Ryan looked down at the glass of water (Y/N) had given him. He suddenly felt guilty for his feelings about his separation from Eva earlier. At least they had committed to remaining civil with one another for the sake of the kids. Even if Ryan didn’t get to see them often due to work, he still made the effort to see the girls and get his time with them. He couldn’t imagine never seeing his daughters, let alone not wanting to see them.

“Hey,” (Y/N) said, snapping Ryan out of his thoughts. “Stop with the internal pity party. I said I’m over it, and I don’t want sympathy.”

Ryan smiled. “I know, I’m sorry. I was just thinking I can’t imagine not being in my daughters’ lives. They mean the world to me.”

“They’re lucky to have you as their dad.”

A chorus of laughter came from downstairs. Ryan and (Y/N) both looked in the direction it came from, mirrored smiles on their faces. Hearing that his daughters were having such a good time made him not worry about how long he’d be waiting for them to be ready to leave. That and the fact that he was starting to enjoy his time with (Y/N).

“I have to apologize for how I reacted to your questioning earlier,” he said. “I didn’t really expect an interrogation when I came to pick up my daughters.”

She waved off his apology. “I took you by surprise. I can’t blame you for being annoyed. I just thought Eva was the one coming to pick them up, so when you showed up on my doorstep I was a little suspicious.”

“I appreciate you keeping the kids safe, though. At least I know I can feel at ease when they’re here. Eva didn’t tell me they were here until I showed up at her place to pick them up, and I guess neither of us really thought about calling you to let you know I’d be getting them instead of Eva.”

“Wait,” (Y/N) said. “Are you and Eva not together?”

Ryan shook his head. “We split up a few months ago. It’s been tough, but we’re trying to stay as friendly and civil as possible for the sake of the kids.”

(Y/N) looked like she was also deep in thought as he spoke. She nodded, but didn’t reply for a few moments. When she finally did speak, she had decided to change the subject and Ryan happily went along with it.

Time passed but neither of them noticed. They had gotten so deep into their conversation that they didn’t realize how long it had been since Ryan had told the girls to get their stuff together to go. They spent the time getting to know one another. After talking for some time, (Y/N) finally did admit that she knew of both Ryan and Eva’s fame status, but that she didn’t really care all that much.

“I met Eva before I knew she was famous,” she told him. “I only found out afterwards when this old re-run of 2 Fast 2 Furious was on TV and I recognized her. But by that point I knew her as the mother of Jake’s friends and I didn’t care to think of her as a big hot shot actress. Of course, upon looking her up I came to find out that her partner - or I guess ex-partner now - was also an actor.”

“But you didn’t know it was me when I came to the door?” Ryan asked.

“Well I didn’t look up pictures of you or anything, and I haven’t seen a single movie you’re in.”

“Not even The Notebook?”

(Y/N) made fake gagging noise. “Oh, I’m the exact opposite of Nicholas Spark’s demographic. The only one of his movies I’ve seen is that one with Clint Eastwood’s kid, and I only saw it because my best friend was going through a breakup and wanted to watch sappy romantic movies.”

Ryan chuckled. “You have no idea how refreshing this is, but also how relieving it is. It’s hard to find someone to look after your kids without worrying if they’ll run off and tell the press personal things to make a quick buck.”

(Y/N) scrunched up her nose in disgust. “That’s terrible. People are fucking awful.”

Ryan nodded his head in agreement. He didn’t have to be told twice. He had known that since he was a child himself.

Over an hour had passed by the time the two of them heard footsteps running up the stairs again. Ryan’s two girls, along with (Y/N)’s son, Jake, rounded the corner into the kitchen. Jake immediately ran up to his mother and jumped onto her lap. (Y/N) began to laugh as she wrapped her arms around him.

“What do you want?” she asked.

“Nothing!” Jake responded. “I love you, mommy?”

She gave him a skeptical look. “Okay, what do you want?”

“Hot Pockets!”

(Y/N) chuckled and kissed the top of the young boy’s head. “Okay, I’ll put them on.” To Ryan she added, “Do you guys want to stay for dinner? I know Hot Pockets aren’t anything super fancy or gourmet.”

“Can we daddy?” Ryan’s oldest asked.

He noticed then that neither of them had their things still. He smiled at the two of them and agreed, which resulted in loud squealing and repeated declarations of love before the three of them ran back downstairs.

By the time the girls were actually ready to go, they and Ryan were the last ones to leave. The other kids had been picked up hours ago by their parents, but Ryan stuck around as long as the girls wanted to. He was enjoying his time with (Y/N) and didn’t want it to come to an end when he wasn’t sure when or if he would ever see her again.

But the sun had began to set and the girls were starting to get tired, so Ryan knew it was time to go. They finally collected their things, said their goodbyes to Jake and (Y/N), and started for the door.

“Thank you for letting us stay over for so long,” Ryan said to (Y/N) after getting the girls into the car. “We didn’t mean to impose for as long as we did.”

“Oh, it wasn’t an imposition at all,” (Y/N) assured him. “Jake loves the girls, and I enjoyed the company as well.”

They both stood in silence for a few moments. There was so much more Ryan wanted to say, but he just couldn’t get any of it to come out. He wanted to ask if he could see her again, maybe ask her on a date but not be so forward that that was what he was doing. But at the same time, he was almost nervous to do that. He didn’t know for sure if she was single, if she was even interested in him that way, if it was a good idea to try and date the mother of his kids’ friend. But at the same time, he really, really wanted to see her again.

“You should come over some other time,” she said, filling the silence. “Like...with the girls or...maybe without them.”

“Oh,” Ryan said, both shocked and relieved that (Y/N) filled in the gaps for him. “Yeah. I would love to.”

They exchanged phone numbers and said goodnight again, lingering for a while before Ryan finally tore himself away to bring the girls home. They were both already almost asleep when he got into the car. He smiled as he looked at the two of them in his rearview mirror, and smiled more as he noticed (Y/N) watching them from the doorstep.

[httplilyyy]

𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄 𝐓𝐎 𝐃𝐈𝐄 || 𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐀 𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐏𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑

pairing: tara carpenter x reader

summary: everything must come to an end

warnings: descriptions of violence, murder, gore, blood (lots of it), multiple character deaths, knives, guns, swearing, scream vi spoilers, bad writing

word count: 4.5k

a/n: the final part for ‘new york, new rules’! I hope you’ve liked this little series as much as I have enjoyed writing it :)

scream masterlist | prev. part | epilogue

007. XIII - crazy lixx 

‘time to die!’

Standing with your feet rooted to the floor, you watched as Sidney made herself known to everyone in the room. 

“I had a feeling you could use my help.” Sidney said, walking over to you, ignoring everyone else. 

“You can’t be here-”

“You just won’t die, will you!?” Jill yelled, cutting you off.

“I could say the same about you.” Sidney rebutted, turning to the younger woman. 

“Well, shit.” Bailey chuckled looking between you and Sidney. “Look who decided to show up.”

“Look,” Sidney sighed, clearly tired after doing this multiple times before, “I don’t know who the fuck you are and nor do I care, so why dont you just leave us be.”

“Oh, you know I can't do that.” Bailey tutted, shaking his head.

“You’ll slip.” Sidney shrugged, looking back at Jill. “They always do.”

“You just got lucky.” Jill snapped and at the same time Ethan lurched forward, his knife stabbing Sam just above her collar bone.

Tara took a hold on Sam's hand, pulling her sister away from Ethan. The boy held a large smile on his face as he followed after the two.

“Now, it wasn’t until I saw the photograph of what you’d done to him that I knew you had to fucking die!” Bailey shouted out from the top of his lungs, watching as Ethan and Quinn surrounded Tara and Sam.

Ethan felt his blood pump faster as Sam and Tara swung their bricks over at him whenever he got too close. Intense thrill coursed through his veins as he playfully swung the knife over at them, purposely missing every single time.

"You had to be punished, along with anyone else who stands in our way." Bailey's loud voice continued to echo throughout the theatre, a scowl on his face as he glared at the two.

Sam's eyes darkened as she glanced up to meet Quinn's eyes, the thoughts running behind them being anything but pure. Quinn noticed the change almost immediately, and she tucked her knife under her chin, lightly placing it against her skin as she tilted her head up. 

"There she is." Quinn whispered, closing some of the distance between them. "There's the fucking killer.”

"Real great parenting job by the way." Tara interjected, realising that their entire family had gone insane.

"Shut your whore fucking mouth!" Quinn screamed, shoving the shorter girl with a hard push, along with Sam who was standing right beside her.

"Have I been the perfect dad? No. Have I maybe over indulged Richie's love of these little movies? Yeah, maybe." Bailey told them, tears on the brink of releasing as his voice cracked slightly. "For me they're just a little dark, but Richie really loved them. He even made a few of his own." 

Everyone’s gaze turned to face the large curtain that was showcasing one of Richie's films. Unknowingly, you felt a scowl form its way onto your face, scoffing at how someone would want to recreate this nightmare.

"Did you- did you know?" Bailey began, walking over to the stage and climbing up the few stairs to get on top of the stage so he could see the screen more clearly. "There's a very special bond between a father and his first son."

Ethan's mouth twitched, the muscle in his jaw tightened as he glanced away from his father. Bailey brought out his hands to showcase the entire room as he told them, "Which is why I helped him build this collection."

"This was all his?" Sam questioned, looking around her.

“What a fucking creep.” You muttered, glancing at Bailey before turning to look at Jill, the older woman watching Bailey with excitement. 

"Yes, he's a very passionate collector, and he inspired others." Bailey gloated, glancing around the room at all the multiple different objects that he had given his son, remembering faintly the way his face lit up whenever he brought him something new. "Oh, we had to kill those two wannabe film students because, well, we had to kill you first, Sam."

"I put the theatre in their name, and then good old Detective Bailey would have just stumbled on it, but I didn't have to because my golly, that Gale Weathers is one hell of a journalist."

At the mention of Gale’s name you felt your body stiffen, a dark gaze swimming beneath your eyes, and it wouldn't take long for any of them to realise it if they simply turned around to look at you. 

"I built a tribute to my son, which is why this is where you have to die, Sam." Bailey's voice thickened, his facial expression blank. "Surrounded by all the things he loved the most."

"What happens next?" Sam asked frantically, glancing around at each of them to get a little more insight on their thought process. "When after you're done with us, what? You just disappear?"

"No, I gotta hurry over to the hospital and make sure Mindy and Gale don't pull through." Bailey scoffed as he walked down the small steps to get off the stage and pulled his gun right at the older girl. "Because everybody dies, Sam! Everyone who had anything to do with the death of my son, suffers and dies!"

"Fuck yeah, they do!" Quinn agreed.

"Yeah!" Ethan shouted, nodding his head along to his fathers words.

"Now put on the mask." Bailey ordered, his words seething through his teeth as Sam glanced down to the floor where the ghostface mask was lying.

"He was," Sam whispered, breathing heavily as she shook her head lightly, "so pathetic."

"Huh?" Bailey's mouth hung open as he tilted his head in disbelief. "Th- that's not true."

"Yeah, your son," Sam continued, eyes holding no regret for the words she was throwing out breathlessly. "He was a man baby who made his girlfriend do all the killing."

“He was a strong feral young man.” Bailey proclaimed, glaring at Sam.

“He was a limp dick, little fuck, who cried before I slit his throat.” Sam said, her eyes hardening as she narrowed them down on Bailey. 

"Shut the fuck up!" Quinn screamed, finally losing control of her anger and running over to Sam with her knife, but Tara was already prepared for her little outburst, and she swung her brick right towards Quinn's jaw, throwing it into her face with full force and watching as a couple of her teeth were knocked out of her mouth as she fell down to the floor.

At that exact moment, Kirby appeared with her gun and shot a couple of bullets over towards Bailey. You ducked down and covered Sidney as you watched Ethan stab Kirby before Sam smacked a brick over his head. 

The older Carpenter took the knife from Kirby and stabbed Ethan repeatedly, the boy groaning in pain as he fell back.

"Sam." Tara called out, glancing back at her sister. “Come on.”

You got up and faced Jill, the woman looking at you menacingly. Sidney stood at your side, her gaze hardening on her cousin. 

Jill flipped the knife in her hand, a grin on her face told you that she had been waiting for this moment for a long time. 

“You really want to do this?” You questioned, getting into a fighting stance.

“You know I do.” Jill replied, her grip tightening on the knife.

“Then let's dance” You said, tilting your head and creating a ‘come here’ motion with your hand.

Jill ran towards you and Sidney, swinging her arm haphazardly, hoping to cut you with the knife in her hand. 

You coordinated your punches with Sidney and you eventually landed a heavy punch to Jill’s ribs, sending the woman back, reeling in pain. 

It didn’t take long for Jill to recover and she was soon running back towards you. Sidney went to punch Jill in the face but she dodged the attack and sent the older woman to the floor with a harsh shove.

Having the wind knocked out of her, Sidney stayed on the floor watching as Jill charged towards you, stabbing her knife towards your face. You blocked it and held her wrists back but got distracted when you heard a gunshot ring out followed by a scream.

You looked to your right and saw Tara grasping onto Sam’s hand as she hung over the edge of the balcony. The older Carpenter held Tara’s hand with all her might but due to the cut on her arm, blood dripped down making Tara slip from her hold. 

“Tara!” You shouted, momentarily distracted and Jill added more pressure to her knife causing it to slip through your hold and into your shoulder. “Fuck!”

Jill then used all her weight to push you down and the pin you to the floor. She straddled your waist and pulled the knife from your shoulder, trying to stab you in the face once again. 

Using all your force, you kept the knife away from your head. Sweat and blood ran down your face, some of it made its way into your eyes, making it hard for you to see. 

“Jill, stop.” You grunted, feeling the tip of the knife make its way closer to your face. “You don’t have to do this.”

“I don’t have to do this?” Jill repeated sarcastically. “I can finally get my revenge and become the famous final girl.”

“Stop with this final girl bullshit! It’s never going to happen!” 

“And what does it matter to you anyway, y/n? You won’t even be here to see it come true.”

“You forgot one thing, Jill.” You said, breathlessly, your arms getting tired. 

“And what’s that?” Jill hissed, grinning down at you widely.

“Never turn you back on Sidney Prescott!”

Sidney came up from behind Jill, stabbing a knife of her own in the younger woman's back. Jill let out a scream, her back arching in pain and she let go of the knife in her hand.

“C’mon, sis,” you sighed, wiping the sweat from your forehead as your hand reached for Jill’s knife, your fingers grasped around it and you plunged it into her side, just under her ribs. “you should know by now, never fuck with the original.”

“How sentimental.” Jill laughed through gritted teeth, groaning in pain as you pushed the knife in deeper with a hardened glare.

“It’s only a taste of your own medicine.” You said, your gaze hardening.

Sidney took the knife out of Jill’s back and you pushed her off you. Getting back on your own two feet, you looked down at Jill, your knife still in her stomach.

You took a step forward, kneeling over Jill as you tilted your head to the side, your eyes boring into hers. You took the knife out of her side and trailed it down from her throat and towards to her chest.

Twirling the knife against Jill’s chest, anticipation coursed through her, your hands itching to dig the sharp weapon into her body.

"Fuck you." Jill launched her fist upwards to try and punch you in the face, but you were the one with the knife, so you pushed the knife in just above her clavicle.

"I should have killed you when I had the chance.” Jill muttered, her words barely above a whisper, blood loss taking a toll on her.

“Probably, but you’re too late now.” You shrugged before you leaned down to whisper in her ear, “hold still.” You raised the knife, digging the sharp metal into her chest. She cried in anguish as you sliced her skin, watching the blood drip down her body. 

Jill placed her hands against your chest, trying to pry you off her body as she struggled to move from underneath you. You brought the knife upwards once more, impaling it into her body, digging it as far into her as the knife could reach.

“S-stop!” Jill stuttered, blood filling in her mouth as she tried to get you to stop in any way possible. “Please. Y/n, please.”

Your chest heaved up and down, you halted your ministrations and looked down at her below you.

“I’m sorry.” Jill coughed, blood splattering on your clothes. “I- I didn’t mean to do any of this.”

You stood up, looking to your side, you saw Sidney look at you with an unreadable expression. She reached behind her and pulled a gun from the back of her belt.

Wordlessly, she handed it to you. You took it from her hesitantly before looking back at Jill, her eyes going back and forth from you to the gun.

“No, no, please. Y/n, don’t do this. Please.” Jill begged, holding up her hands in front of her with all the strength she had left.

You gave Jill one last look before raising the gun up to her head before pulling the trigger. Everything felt numb as you watched your sister's body slump to the floor, blood still pouring from her wounds.

You were soon snapped out of your haze once you heard Tara let out a scream. From behind you, you watched as Tara got stabbed in the stomach by Ethan.

"Gotcha!" Ethan laughed, grinning from ear to ear as he ran his eyes over the girl's wound.

Tara recovered from the stab pretty quickly and shoved her knife deep inside Ethan's mouth, breathing heavily as she watched the pain in his eyes glimmer. 

She let him swallow up his agony for a few seconds before twisting the knife inside, enjoying the painful noises he was making as blood dripped down his mouth. 

"Now die a fucking virgin." Tara sneered, watching as his eyes widened before she pulled the knife out of his mouth. 

His blood splattered on her face and clothing, but she didn't care as she let out a low laugh, lowering down the knife and glancing up to meet your eyes with a smile.

Your eyebrows rose in surprise, a low whistle falling from your mouth as you looked at the younger Carpenter impressed. 

Another gunshot rang throughout the theatre and you looked up at Sam, the girl pointing her gun at Quinn’s body which fell with a loud thud, a bullet wound in the middle of her forehead. 

“I thought she’d put up more of a fight.” You mumbled as your chest heaved up and down.

“It seems that you three didn’t need my help after all.” Sidney said, resting a hand on your shoulder. 

“How did you even get in, anyway?” You asked, looking at the older woman.

“I have my ways.” Sidney smiled. “Being the final girl has some perks.”

You were going to reply but your words got caught in your throat as you watched Sam fall from the balcony and down to the floor below her with Bailey.

You rushed over to Sam, Sidney hot on your tail as the two of you had worried expressions pasted on your faces.

Sam coughed, holding her stomach as she sat up. You placed a gentle hand on her shoulder causing her to turn around and shove you to the floor, immediately regretting it once she saw it was you.

“You okay, there Carpenter?” You asked, looking up at Sam, your hands raised in surrender.

“Sorry.” Sam apologised, holding a hand out for you to grab.

Sam pulled you up from the floor and the two of you stood facing Tara and Sidney, finally being able to take a breath from all the fighting.

“I have a plan to kill Bailey.” Sam spoke up, a hand holding her ribs, still slightly sore from the fall.

“What do you want us to do?” Sidney questioned, looking at Sam intently.

“I need one of you to take these.” Sam said, holding her phone up as well as a voice changer. “And make a phone call for me.”

“I’ll do it.” Tara said, taking the phone from her sister’s hand.

“And what should we do?” You wondered, gesturing between yourself and Sidney.

“You go with Tara and stay somewhere safe until it's okay to come back out.”

“Roger that.” You smiled, sending a salute towards Sam before walking off with Tara and Sidney. 

You turned around and saw Sam putting on her father’s ghostface robe and mask before getting in her position.

Bailey groaned, rubbing his head as he got up from the floor. He looked around and saw that it was only him left in the theatre. 

Pulling his gun from his holster, Bailey jumped at the sound of his phone ringing. 

“Hello detective Bailey,” Tara said over the phone, the Ghostface voice coming through on Bailey’s phone. “I have one question for you.”

“Oh yeah?” Bailey replied, walking up to the stage where the ghostface mannequins were. “What’s that?”

“What’s your favourite scary movie?”

“Favourite scary movie?” Bailey repeated with a chuckle. 

“I’m asking because you’re in one now. You’re in my movie.”

“Oh, and I see you’ve put on your true face, huh? Your birthright.” Bailey said as he shot two mannequins in the head before looking at Billy’s mannequin which didn’t have a robe on it. “Poetic you’re gonna die in it.”

“This is what you wanted, isn't it?” 

“Now you know the truth, huh?” Bailey said after shooting another mannequin. “Murder’s in your blood. Stop fucking around and show yourself!”

“Be careful what you wish for.”

“Alright, I am a fucking police officer, how do you think this is going to go, Sam?” Bailey shouted down the phone. “Who d’you think they’re gonna believe, huh?”

“Probably the one who’s still alive.”

Bailey screamed, smashing his phone to the ground, panting as he shook his head. Sam walked on the stage behind him, tilting her head as he turned around. Bailey stammered back, screaming loudly as Sam stabbed every inch of his body that she could. 

When she finally stopped, Sam let Bailey fall to the ground as she took off her mask. The man looked up at her, choking on his own blood. As Sam was about to finish him off for good, Tara came up beside her, you and Sidney opting to stay back.

“My father was a murderer.” Sam said breathlessly. “No matter what you think, I'm better than that.”

Sam looked down at her sister, the latter tilting her head as she relaxed her face. Sam let a small smirk take over her features before turning back to Bailey.

“But you did fuck with our family, so...” Sam said, gripping her knife harder as she shoved it into Bailey’s eye, the man screaming in pain. 

“Nice.” Tara nodded, watching as life drained from Bailey.

“Thanks.” Sam replied. “You okay?”

“No.” Tara chuckled with a shake of her head. 

Sam gave a nod of acknowledgement as she took off her robe. You watched as the sisters walked to the stairs where they sat down, you and Sidney sitting beside them.

Tara rested her head against your shoulder and you gently took a hold of her hand, rubbing comforting circles on the back.

“Thank you for letting me go.” Tara said, looking at her sister as she kept her head on your shoulder.

“I knew you could take care of yourself.” Sam replied and the two sisters shared a smile between them. “I want to be in your life, but only as much as you want me to be.”

“I want you to be.” Tara said quickly. “I promise you I am going to get so much therapy after this. I’m serious. We're going to get through this. Together.” 

All of a sudden, the peaceful moment was interrupted when Ethan ran towards you four, blood dripping out of his mouth and down his chin. Before Ethan could get near, a broken TV was pushed off a table and onto his head, the boy falling to the ground, finally being killed.

“Saw that in a scary movie once.” Kirby smiled, looking over at Sidney as the woman held a look of surprise.

The doors to the theatre were opened, multiple cops running in as Danny followed quickly behind. Sam quickly got up and made her way towards him, being followed closely behind by you, Tara, Sidney and Kirby.

“Are you okay?” Danny questioned, looking Sam over as he cupped her cheeks with a worried look on his face before pulling her into a quick hug.

“Yeah.” Sam nodded with a small smile.

“I thought you might need some reinforcements. And I called the hospital, Mindy and Gale are going to be okay. Mindy’s on her way here now, they couldn’t stop her.”

“Not bad cute boy.” Tara nodded.

“Thanks.” 

“Let’s get the fuck out of here.” Sidney said, placing a hand on your shoulder.

You gave a weak nod, walking out of the theatre with everyone. Once you got wind of fresh air you were rushed into the back of an ambulance. A medic tending to the cuts on your face along with the stab wound in your shoulder.

Sidney sat beside you, the woman holding your hand every time you winced from the pain. After the medic was finished they gave you one more check up before moving onto something else.

Finally feeling fatigue catch up with you, you rested your head against Sidney’s arm. The older woman let a smile form on her face as she wrapped an arm around you, pulling you into her embrace.

“You’re a brave kid.” Sidney said softly, rubbing a hand up and down your arm. “You should never have had to shoot your sister.”

“She lost the right to be my sister when she started killing people.” You said, moving out of Sidney’s embrace.

“Still, no one should ever have to go through what you’ve been through.” 

“I could say the same about you.” You chuckled, bumping your shoulder into hers.

“At least I didn't get stabbed this time, just a little winded.”

“You’re getting old for this, Prescott.” 

“Watch it, y/l/n.”

“Alright, alright, I'm sorry.” You said, a laugh bubbling up from your throat as you held your hands up in surrender.

“I think someone is looking for you.” Sidney said, nodding her head in the direction of a frantic looking Tara, standing beside her sister.

“I’ll be right back.” You said, quickly getting up and making your way over to the girl.

“Y/n!” Tara said, finally spotting you. She ran towards you, the two of you meeting in the middle. “Shit, are you okay? I- I was so caught up I forgot to ask and-”

“Shut up and kiss me.” You cut Tara off, gently placing a hand underneath her chin, using your forefinger and thumb to tilt her head up.

Tara’s breathing was erratic, her heart practically beating out of her chest but she complied. Tara wrapped her hands around your shoulders and pulled you down for a kiss. 

You both sighed contently into the kiss. Easily getting lost in each other’s presence. Butterflies fluttered all around in your stomach as you finally got to kiss your girl with no matter in the world.

“Sorry, that was a bit forward.” You mumbled pulling away, scratching the back of your neck as you rocked backwards and forwards on your feet.

Tara didn’t care and she placed her hands on the side of your face, pulling you into a kiss that took all of the air out of your lungs. Your eyes went wide with shock but you quickly fell back into reality and placed your hands on Tara’s waist, pulling her closer and letting yourself fall into the kiss.

Tara let out a small gasp once your lips separated and you smiled once you saw her chest rapidly falling up and down with a small blush coating her cheeks and you couldn't help the smile that threatened to break out on your face.

Due to the closeness of the two of you, both your faces barely an inch away from each other, you could see every intricate detail on her face. You admired her for a little while but you couldn’t contain yourself so you crashed your lips back against hers. 

The kiss broke naturally, leaving pecks as you moved your face away from Tara. You rested your forehead against Tara’s, small chuckles falling from your lips.

“Your sister is going to kill me.” You whispered, wrapping your arms around Tara’s shoulders to pull her into a hug.

“One-hundred percent.” Tara replied, wrapping her arms around your waist and resting her head against your chest.

“You’re worth it.” You mumbled, placing a kiss to the top of her head.

“Okay, you two.” Sidney said, walking over to you and Tara. “That's enough sappy shit for now.”

“Sid!” You exclaimed, looking at the woman in shock. “What the hell!”

“Oh come on, let’s go see Kirby.” Sidney said, walking over to where Kirby and Sam were.

You followed behind, hand in hand with Tara, taking your time together. 

“You ever need me, call.” Kirby said, talking to Sam, but turning to you and Tara as she saw you both walk over. “We’re all apart of the same fucked up family now. And also, legacy doesn’t always have to be a bad thing, okay?”

You smiled at Kirby but it quickly vanished once you heard Tara sniffle beside you, the younger Carpenter looking to the ground as her bottom lip started to quiver, tears falling from her eyes.

“Hey.” Kirby said, looking over at Tara, seeing as you pulled her into your arms.

“It’s just Chad-”

“Hey we got another one here!” A medic shouted, wheeling the boy out on a stretcher.

“Chad!” Tara shouted, running over to the boy with you and Sam not far behind her.

“How the fuck are you still alive?” You muttered, looking at him in disbelief.

Chad smiled, holding his hand up and showing five fingers. 

“Core fucking five.” Tara smiled, pulling the boy into a hug.

“Oh my god, you guys okay?” Mindy shouted, running over to you. “I know who the killer is, it's Ethan and Bailey.”

“And Quinn.” Sam said.

“And Quinn, fuck!” Mindy huffed.

“And Jill.” You added.

“Jill? But she was dead? Wait, I missed the monologue again!” Mindy shook her head, not believing it all, holding on to her brother's side as he was wheeled into the back of an ambulance. “Wait, are you okay? You don’t look okay. Oh my god we all survived.” 

As Chad and Mindy were taken away in an ambulance, Sam looked down in her coat that was hiding her fathers mask, seemingly in a trance she was snapped out of it by Tara’s voice.

“Sam.” Tara said, her hand grasping yours. “You coming?”

Sam nodded her head with a smile, dropping the mask to the floor. She walked up to you two and the three of you walked back over to Sidney, the woman standing by herself as Kirby was taken to a hospital too.

“You guys going to be okay?” Sidney asked, her gaze focusing on you for a moment longer.

“We will be.” Sam said, looking over at you and Tara.

“Yeah, we’ve got each other.” You smiled, tightening your grip on Tara’s hand. 

“Just like Kirby said, if you need anything, you call me. Okay?” Sidney said, reciprocating your smile. 

“We will.” You nodded. Sidney gave you one last look before walking off and down the road. 

“So…” Sam trailed off, looking at you and Tara then glancing down to your conjoined hands. “You two a thing now?”

“Oh my god, Sam!”

tag list: @andsoigotabutterfly @dksjskx @dreifhraniquo29 @karsonromanoff @btay3115 @bananasplits-world @youralphawolf72 @beaniiekidd

[skibidilando]

A Day at quadrant: LN4 (Part 2)

Author note: I don’t even know how to post anything on this and never wrote a fic but I hope this is good but I think it’s pretty shit and I haven’t finished it yet and if any writers want to use this idea you can for sure just @ me please oh and if you have feedback please let me know thanks xx

Also i tried to change my like writing style thing cause i feel like it was shit last time but yeah idk

Lando x quadrant fem reader

Blurb: reader is a member of quadrant, she games most of the time but also likes f1 along with her best friend Ria bish. She is friends with all members at quadrant and finds it a good laugh with all her mates, but maybe her view of someone in particular is more than a mate..

Warnings: sexualising, swearing, mention of a gun, leaked tape, sad distraught reader, friends to maybe lovers if I make it a series? Smut-ish? If I missed any let me know (I don’t know how to do warnings sorry x)

Well wasn't last week a fucking eventful week. You still cant stop thinking about Lando right next to you comforting you about what happened. You're starting to feel better about the whole issue and get some support from people online and all the other members of quadrant, but fuck that was just shit. You haven't been in any quadrant videos since, but you're in a better place now and probably need to start participating in them more.

Lando and ethan make the idea of quadrant meeting up at landos apartment and trying to train like him for a day. You aren't exactly looking foward to it but oh well, at least Ria is going. You text your gc back and tell them that you will do it too. Then, you get a message.

Lando: are you 100% sure ur okay to come back and film already? you dont have to if you dont want to.

Y/n: yep. I need to get in more videos and im feeling better anyways, thanks for asking.

Lando: all good

Well that was polite and unexpected of Lando to reach out, but whats more unexpected is for your panties to be soaked right now over 2 text messages. well fuck, oopsies.

That night all you can think of is Lando, it's a bit embarrassing to admit, but he was circling around your head like it was an f1 race. You decide to get your head out of it and call Ria to come over and have a chat, since she is your best friend after all. Shortly she pulls up to your apartment in Monaco, funning in bursting of excitement to see you.

"RIAAAAAAA!" you shout when you open the door for her. "Y/NNNN" she replied back. You give her a hug and make her a cup of coffee just how she likes it. You guys sit and chat about the f1 grand prix in Bahrain coming up, and how you hope Lando continues to have a good season with Oscar this year. "Did you see the chat about the new yt vid we doing" You ask Ria. "omg yes and they are bringing angry ginge in I heard" Ria replies back.

"STOP IT" you yell back laughing. You love ginge and his videos, who wouldn't? he's a very very funny bloke. "OMG i''m definitely coming tomorrow then to the recording are you kidding?".

Unfortunately time goes by when you're having fun, and Ria was the most fun, so she had to go a few hours later which felt like minutes. Besides you both need sleep for the youtube vid you're filming tmr at Lando's. You go to bed and try to sleep as much as you can, which didnt happen lol.

rise and shine love. It's already 6am and time to go to Lando's place to film. Normally you don't have to wakeup early as fuck but for the purpose of the video and "being Lando Norris" you had no choice. You get to his apartment after parking at the front and knock on the door, to which he opens. "hi y/n" he says nicely and gives you a hug. "So good to see you Lando, where is everyone?".

"first here mate" he says almost excitedly. "so what are we actually doing today like playing video games or some shit" you say. "haha your funny mate, we are lifting weights, eating what i eat, using the sim, and neck strengthening" he says laughing at you. "fuck r u taking the piss" you say laughing. "oh my days Landoooo do I look like an f1 driver" you also reply with. "well yeah thats the whole point of the video ya dumb fuck" he replied jokingly.

"hahaha get fucked lando nowins" you snap back. he laughs as you proceed to miss the chair you went to lean on making you flinch and stumble looking like an idiot. he is still laughing which makes you laugh too. "Lando norizz" u reply. "haha you think I have no rizz, funny" he replies egotistically. "yeah i do actually" you don't at all, in fact he hasn't even tried yet he has rizzed you up. "wanna bet?" he snaps out.

you don't have time to think before he pins you against the wall and just looks at you with those hot eyes of his. you can already feel your cheeks burning and your thong getting wet. "you say I have no rizz yet your cheeks are burning, and I bet those panties are more soaked than that porridge you tipped over the counter when you stumbled at my gaze, huh?" he grunts out.

what the fuck just happened, first how did he know and secondly did he just pin you against the wall. not the first time you want that to happen. you know what fuck it if we wants to be like that then he may as well be uncomfortable the whole video.

"how did you know about my tight, black lacy thong i'm wearing over my tight pussy hey? not your first time thinking about it aye?" you tease him, but while walking over to him you see him looking uneasy.

why? because ginge was at the fucking door and heard that, and can see Lando's boner from a mile away. "well bonjour" ginge says laughing. "bonjour mate" lando says as he daps up ginge covering his boner and trying to ignore what just happened.

You already know this video is gonna be the longest set of your life..

sorry its a short one x

[trashogram]

Toon Patrol/Fem!Reader

Rated G for gun violence.

————————

You stood at the very back of the studio, trying not to let restlessness get the better of you. You contented yourself by looking at the set that had been vacated of its cast before your return — a beautiful matte painting of an open field with a frame of oak trees. 

     It was so eye-catching and lovely contrasted with the clutter of camera equipment and occasional crewmembers. A veritable oasis in the middle of a desert. 

You sighed wistfully. 

     Your mentor Cliff had gone long ago, off to help pull together another reel of film post-edit. It was tempting to pout over the injustice of not being invited, since your whole purpose was to observe and learn that very thing. Instead you’d been left to the wolves as a glorified PA, running around town to get whatever was needed by this person or that — all of them higher on the totem pole than yourself. So, you had no chance of refusing, not that you hadn’t tried. 

     You’d been working here for almost two weeks and people still treated you like you were invisible, or a nuisance. First day on the job and your most important lesson was: if you’re not talent or the director, you’re not worth a second glance. 

     With a scrunch of your nose in distaste, you waved away the thought. You’d already browbeaten yourself enough for being so meek. There was nothing for it now but to do better next time.  

-*-

    Cliff pushed a box of random props into your arms. “Here girl. Take these out to the lot and throw ‘em away.” 

You stared down your nose at the contents, spying at least two oversized rolling pins, a ‘toon bomb with a singed fuse, a slide whistle, a white flag and a dozen or so bent cartoon nails. 

“Wh—?” 

“They’re defective! No need for ‘em anymore.” Your mentor continued. “When you come back I’ll bring you to the RCA system, watch ‘em match up the audio.” 

“Oh! Really?!” You brightened. “That’s - I - Really, Cliff?! Will I really get to — ?” 

Cliff cut you off, perpetually watering eyes narrowed as he frowned. 

“Yeah, yeah, now go! Don’t dawdle! We don’t need anymore junk clutterin’ this place up.” Cliff ‘hmphed’ around his stogie. “Got enough clowns runnin’ rampant as it is.” 

Your lips pressed together firmly as you tried to reel in the tempest of emotions in your chest. As exciting as the reward sounded, you failed to see how taking out the trash was part of your job description. 

“Yes, sir.” You muttered finally. 

With another world-weary sigh, you trudged off and headed toward the back door that led outside.

-*- 

The walk over to the dumpsters was particularly painful with not only the distance to account for, but the many stairs as well. You could feel blisters forming on your heels and where pressure pinched at your toes. 

    One would hope that breaking in sensible pumps wouldn’t take long, but then you were constantly on your feet these days. There was little to no time for sitting and healing as you were jerked around from one end of the set to the next at everyone’s beck and call. 

    A siren was going off in the distance, intermingling with the sound of the trolley ding’ing at its next stop. You could faintly hear the clacking of dress shoes and a shout from someone unknown just beyond the gate that separated the studio and the outside world of L.A. 

    The air turned from pleasantly fresh to sour, dragging you back to the task at hand. The dumpsters sat waiting. 

You groaned at the realization that you had to set your box of miscellaneous down to open the dumpster lid. It was the little things in life that piled up and blocked you from a simple, joyous life. 

     Two women costumed to look like Little Bo Peep rounded the corner as you maneuvered the lid open. They didn’t appear to see you, let alone lend a hand as they hurried off. And the same could be said of a man swerving past you, his dress shirt half-soaked in sweat. 

Typical. 

“Did this… box get… heavier?” You groused, lugging it up from the pavement. 

You had to use the dumpster to wedge the box between it and yourself, hoisting it toward the lip. It was merely a coincidence that you decided to take a last look inside before throwing it away. 

The ‘toon frog inside croaked at you. 

     Your scream set him off like a springtrap, and you were knocked back onto the heated road with a hiss. It hurt — your elbow smacked into the ground and the trapped heat from the sun stung your legs through the nylon barrier as you landed on your behind. 

Teeth clenched, you tried to distract yourself from the pain. Above you the frog stood, stretched out to his full height — which was sizable given how he’s squished himself into a standard cardboard box. His attire stood out like something a bandmate would march in during a parade procession. 

The frog trembled from head-to-toe, eyes darting all around. 

“I’m so sorry! So sorry! So sorry! I didn’t mean to knock you over, Miss! I was just looking for somewhere to-to-to-to—!” 

     You got back onto your feet awkwardly, wincing as you brushed dust and dirt from your backside. “To scare me?” 

“—To hide!” He shrieked, fumbling over his own webbed feet. 

You frowned, mouth opening just as the distant siren drowned everything else out. The gate into the studio burst open simultaneously, sending your heart plummeting as a patrol vehicle raced forward. 

     The frog screamed with you this time as he leapt into the air and dove into your arms. His long arms wrapped ‘round your neck and squeezed.

Vision starting to swim, hearing beginning to ring, you could do nothing but stumble back with arms full of terrified amphibian as the car screeched to a halt. 

“Awlright Gills!” A nasal voice called out. “End ‘a the line!” 

The driver’s side door of the van opened, and out popped a ‘toon weasel bedecked in a pink suit jacket and matching fedora. 

    And as if on cue, more weasels filed out from all sides of the car, hurrying to follow the first one’s lead. 

“Oh no! Oh no! Oh no! Please!” The frog stuttered in your ear. “I didn’t hear anything! I didn’t see anything! Please believe me!” 

    It did not block out the sound of guns being cocked. You went ramrod straight at the sound, and stared like a deer in headlights as the group of weasels crowded in. 

    You whimpered, overwhelmed and afraid at the sudden turn of events. The guns pointed at you looked real. 

“Look-it dis, boys.” The weasel in pink snarked. “Froggy says he ain’t guilty, but he’s hidin’ behind a dame! Sure looks like a ‘red-bellied’ snitch ta me!”

    The weasel’s fellow ‘toons all laughed, and you gagged as the frog’s arms constricted around you again. The lack of oxygen was making you dizzy, preventing you from staying still through the stand-off. 

“She don’t look so good, eh boss?” Another weasel asked, eyes trained on you moreso than the frog. 

You began to sway back and forth, a high heel catching in a divot. You pitched forward unexpectedly. 

“No! No! No!” The frog wailed. 

“Uh-oh!” A high-pitched voice exclaimed, followed by a stream of cackles. The spots in your vision and the ringing in your ears prevented you from caring, however. 

Even the sound of a gunshot, and the subsequent cry of the frog as he finally let go of your neck and jumped off of you, took its time catching up to your sluggish thoughts. 

     You gasped, air filling your lungs in short bursts until you coughed. Above and around you, the sounds of a cartoon scuffle filled the lot as the frog attempted another escape.

    He had sprung from you after being startled by the gunshot before you could hit the ground and hit the dumpster, feet landing on a rolling pin and tripping him up. It left him flailing for just long enough to get ambushed by the Toon Patrol, who rushed him.  

The frog bounded over Smartass’s head, ripping the fedora off his head, and leaving the leader to clutch at nothing but air, to slam it over Stupid’s eyes. Psycho took the opportunity to grip the perp’s feet and pull him down harder than gravity could as Wheezy snatched up the cartoon bat that had been dropped in the fray and hit the frog right between his bulbous eyes. 

It sent the poor thing flying back into the dust, legs sticking up in the air as he moaned, stars circling his head. 

-*-

A small crowd of humans and ‘toons alike had gathered yards away from you, but you paid it no mind as the frog was hauled away by the seat of his pants. The amphibian remained unconscious as he was swung back and forth rather merrily by two of the weasels before being thrown into the back of their car. 

The sound of him hitting the interior made you flinch, but you also instinctively grabbed for your neck, and shuddered at the phantom feeling of being choked. 

     You inhaled slowly, willing yourself to calm down. Thankfully, a distraction emerged when you saw the Toon Patrol (per what it said on the side of the cab) leader dithering near you still. His beady eyes roved around the area, combing it for something — something —

“Thank you...” You said when he was within earshot. 

    His ears perked up before that glare was pointed in your direction. You swallowed down your apprehension. 

“… For, uh, for helping me from being strangled.” You continued, gently. 

It felt true enough, even if you felt a little bad about how the situation was handled. From what you could tell, neither you nor the frog had been shot. It must’ve been a tactic meant to scare only. 

You hoped so at least. 

“Wasn’ nothing, doll.” He snapped, claws still feeling for his hat as if it would magically appear. 

You frowned, pushing down the feeling of reproach at his gruff tone. It would seem that even ‘toon law enforcement would rather wave you off than speak to you. 

     Eyes trailing down, you spotted the fedora a few feet away and you quickly scooped it up, intent on remedying your hurt feelings with people-pleasing.

“Well, thank you anyway.” You said sincerely before you bent down and planted a kiss right between the weasel’s little ears. 

     It was funny. You noticed before you could place the hat back on the weasel’s head how his eyes bulged in their sockets. For a split second the ‘toon looked well and truly gobsmacked by your little token of gratitude. 

      The rest of his posse stilled their endless shuffling, fidgeting and slinking about to mirror the bewilderment of their boss. 

     Their leader eventually shook himself free of the shock to whirl about. The permanent scowl on his face deepened as he glared at you. His hat was snatched out of your hands, with the weasel hissing between yellow incisors. 

“Why you—!” 

“Aye!” Your head snapped up, and you blinked rapidly at the weasel in green. “Whattabout me?!”

His narrowed eyes had blown out wide, zeroed in on you while his jaw hung open. The weasel hurriedly clamped it shut when he caught your attention, trying and failing to contain the mix of awe, indignation and desperation on his face. You noticed, idly, how he was the most well-dressed out of his counterparts as he stalked toward you. 

     You were taken aback when he elbowed the weasel next to you out of the way and grabbed your hand before you could back off. 

     The green-clad ‘toon took his hat in his other hand, revealing a shock of slicked-back black hair. It distracted you from his hungry gaze roaming up and down your form. 

“It was an honor to be your hero, bella dama.” His voice was as oily as his hair. “I would happily accept your kiss as ‘thank you’.”

“Oh.” You responded dumbly. “Um, I-I suppose…” 

A squeak left you as the ‘toon kissed your hand, his grip tightening without warning so that he could pull you closer. Suddenly, he was kissing his way up your arm, heedless to your bewilderment at his wildly inappropriate actions. 

     The kisses grew more and more amorous as he continued, openly slavering over you as if your bare skin was an addictive substance he couldn’t get enough of. And every single one was punctuated with a loud ‘MUAH’.

     Blood rushed to your ears as you saw the weasel’s tongue slide across your forearm— 

“Quit messin’ around!” Your sleazy counterpart was ripped away from you with a yelp. 

His entire body snapped back like a rubber band, neck stretching comically as he tried to continue kissing you until the very last second. 

“We got no time for these ‘shenagrains’! We still gotta frog to flay!” The leader spat, smacking Green over the head for good measure. 

   A chorus of laughter followed the strike as the other three weasels pointed and laughed at their cohorts’ melodramatic abuse. 

      The touchy one bared his yellow teeth, spouting what you could only imagine were curses, though they were yelled in what you believed was Spanish. He dove for his leader, and immediately they began to tussle in the dusty roadway. 

You stood up again, grimacing at the scene and wondering if you should intervene or not. Until you jumped out of your skin as the hem of your dress was tugged. 

“Heeheeheeheh…” Swirling eyes met your own, so shiny that they reflected your stunned expression back at you. 

      “You want a kiss?” You asked.  

The only response was more high-pitched giggling from the scrawny thing. You felt nervousness creep up your spine as you took in the overlong sleeves of what you just now realized was a straightjacket wrapped around this one. And there was a straight razor clenched between his teeth, glinting in the early noon sun. 

      Panic crawled up your throat, but you forced yourself to take a big, albeit silent, breath. Toons were made to entertain, not cause harm. At least, not to humans. 

You softened up with a smile, brushing back the weasel’s wildly unkempt hair and pressing your lips to his hairline. 

     “Heehee…” The giggling went on under his breath.

A wet nose pressed against the column of your throat briefly, sniffing over your skin. Hot puffs of air blew back your hair before you heard him inhale deeply. 

     You pulled back to see the loony ‘toon rocking from side to side, his sleeves crossed over his lanky body in a self-hug. Those eyes swirled twice as fast, a manic grin stretching over his long face.

“I li~ike that.” He sing-songed between giggles. “Kissies feel go~od! Eheeheeheehee!”

The laughing, as freaky as it was, was infectious. Laughter bubbled out of you as well, shaking your shoulders and forcing you to press your lips together. 

     You couldn’t stifle it so much when the largest weasel of the whole gang bumped into your side. How he managed to sneak up on you with all his bulk was a mystery. 

“Duhh we did good?” He asked you. 

“Very good!” You laughed, your frame vibrating with the forcefulness of it. “Thank you very much!”

This weasel’s eyes didn’t swirl, but they shapeshifted into hearts once you kissed his furry cheek. You nearly snorted over how he sank into a bashful pose, and at the way the propeller on his hat spun without even a light breeze to push it. 

    “D’awww…” His tongue hung out like a lazy dog’s as he looked up at you through would-be fluttering lashes. “Boss! Did you see that? Da lady gave me a kiss!” 

“Ese idiota got a kiss!” You heard from behind. “You all got a kiss but me! ¡Sois ratas! ¡Estás todos contra mí!” 

Well now, not all of them had. You couldn’t stop laughing, but you managed to find the only other patroller you had not made any contact with. 

     The one that was shades more blue than his fellow ‘toons hung back. He made no move to come toward you; just stood in the haze of his own smoke cloud. 

     You didn’t want to push. Instead, still on that jittery buzz of good humor, you blew him a kiss to compromise. You imagined that if you were a ‘toon yourself, your kiss would’ve literally flown right to him. 

   Blue’s pinkened eyes seemed to widen, reminiscent of his boss’s reaction, before narrowing again to scrutinize you. The many cigarettes in his maw billowed smoke on double time, reminding you of the phrase ‘smoke coming outta your ears’. 

    Perhaps it was just their natural theatrics — admittedly, you’d not been working amongst ‘toons for very long, let alone visited Toontown as you planned to do… at some point. But you had to wonder if these poor creatures had ever been shown affection in their lives. 

Wiping a tear from your eye, you tried to curb your giggles and turn toward that overly — affectionate — weasel. You knew full well that it was a terrible idea but his whining made you feel bad, and you intended to humor him (as long as his boss held him back from the unwanted smooching). 

Intention cut short when you jolted in place at the sight of a man in all black standing behind you. 

“Oh!” You gasped. 

     You felt a chill the longer you stared at him. An imposing man in all black, staring at you from behind opaque spectacles beneath the sharp brim of his own hat. He stood unnaturally still, like a stone pillar, and you got the distinct impression that he’d meant to frighten you. 

Then he smiled, baring uncannily perfect white teeth in your direction. 

[avocado-writing]

Hello, writing req prompt if you're up for it: Aziraphale x reader first time intimacy

Btw I'm eating your every fic they so good!

notes: my fav thing is when people eat my stories. Reminds me of that Maurice sendak story. Anyway hope you enjoy!!!

pairing: aziraphale x reader

rating: E, minors dni

The first time he touches you it’s totally without realising. His mail got delivered to your shop and you’re bringing it over, grateful to have an excuse to talk to the man you’ve quite fancied since you met at the last Whickber Street Shopkeepers and Street Traders Association. As you pass him the small pile of letters your fingers brush together and you feel a little spark of electricity. You’re not sure if it’s static, or something… else. 

He offers you a cup of tea, and you accept it happily. He’s very easy to talk to. Before you realise, the day has slipped into evening. 

The first time he touches you on purpose it’s because you’ve walked into his shop and slipped over, falling heavily on your arse. It’s raining outside and you apparently brought in a puddle with you. The only thing bruised is your pride but he rushes over and offers a sturdy hand to get to your feet, all worry and care. 

“My dear, are you alright?”

“Yes, sorry! I didn’t mean to get your shop floor all wet. I can always mop…”

“Don’t be silly. You need a cup of cocoa and some biscuits on the double. Sit down, I’ll get you both. Oh, but let me take that wet coat first.”

It’s nice to have him fuss over you. You only came round to ask if he could see about getting a book in and, if you’re honest, that was just an excuse to say hello. He helps slip your raincoat off of your shoulders and he must also realise how intimate an action it is, because as he goes to put it on the coatrack his cheeks are flushed pink. 

Another lovely chatty afternoon. He reveals he’s never seen Notting Hill, and you simply can’t allow that to continue unremedied. So the two of you sit on his couch (he seems more than happy to close the store early) and enjoy the movie as much as each other’s company. 

The first time he holds you, it’s on one of the film nights you’ve scheduled with him. It’s your favourite part of the week, closing up your shop and scuttling to the bookstore with a dvd in hand. You’re watching the 1995 Sense and Sensibility, and he seems very tense the entire way through. For a while you’re not sure why until he finally gathers up the courage to put his arm around you. Your heart leaps up into your throat at the gesture, but you snuggle in tight next to him, letting him run his thumb up and down your shoulder in a little caress. 

And the first time he kisses you is as he walks you back to your shop that night - you live in the flat above it, so he doesn’t have to accompany you as it’s just over the road, but he insists it’s the gentlemanly thing to do - and, at the door, you spin and give him a quick peck. He seems dazed, but manages to get ahold of his senses enough to bring you back for a second, proper kiss. 

At your next movie night, you don’t pay attention to Four Weddings and a Funeral. You’re too busy snogging. 

And now, here you are. In his lap. The kissing has gotten hot and heavy, he’s unbuttoned your shirt nearly all the way down; you’ve stripped him of his waistcoat which makes him seem positively nude. His hands slide under your thighs and grip you tightly, moving a little closer to your arse as you breathe hotly into the shell of his ear. 

“Aziraphale…” you gasp, stretching your legs open wide so that he might fit between them better. Your hand runs down his beautiful thick chest to the front of his trousers, where you rub the strained tent. He gasps and his head rolls back at your sure touch. 

“Can I…?”

“Yes. Please,” he chokes. You make quick work of his fly and reach in to take him in your hand. He’s hot and heavy in your palm, throbbing with need, and you give him a couple of pumps just to hear the little overwhelmed noises he makes. 

He slips his fingers away from where they dig into your soft skin and presses them at the sweet point between your thighs. You moan and keel into him, letting his deft and precise movements sweep over you with pleasure. You kiss him again, moving only so that you can take off enough of your clothes to return with your lower half naked. To disrobe further would mean you’d have to stop touching him, and you can’t stand that thought. You need him close. As close as he can possibly be. 

Aziraphale settles his hands on your waist as you take him once more into your grasp. You line him up with your entrance and, checking that he’s ready with sultry eyes, sink down on him. He moans, bloody moans, and it’s the sweetest thing you’ve ever heard; you want to bottle it and keep it for yourself so you can listen to it again and again. He fills you, stretches you, makes you one with him. You’ve never felt so warm and complete in your life. 

Hands on his shoulders you tip forward to be able to rest your forehead against his. You’re both a little sweaty, both a little breathless, but both more than a little elated. His soft curls tickle your face as you begin to ride him with gentle but deliberate motions. You roll your hips and he squeezes you tighter, your name falling from his lips like he’s offering up a prayer to you. 

As the London rain pelts the windows, you make love to the bookseller in the back of his shop, and it’s perfect.  -

Taglist: @angiestopit@dazed-soul @@foolishprincipalitee@smile-eywa@staygoldsquatchling02@underratedboogeyman@cool-ontherun-world@emilynissangtr@cool-iguana@this--is--music @ilyatan

[bengiyo]

Knock Knock Boys Ep 8 Stray Thoughts

Last time, Latte took Almond to the beach so he could relax and unwind. While there, he tried to teach Almond how to pick up strangers, but got concerned when Almond intentionally got drunk too fast. He pulled Almond out of that situation and took him back to their room where they kissed for the first time in a scene full of complex emotional layers. Latte stopped them before it went too far, and later shared his own family beach trip trauma. Meanwhile, Thanwa is back with Max and has decided to move back in with him. Peak waited too long, and so Thanwa is choosing to make pragmatic choices in his life to accept a job he doesn’t like and be with a man who isn’t great to him because he’s wealthy.

Trigger warning for 35:00 to 35:30 for attempted sexual assault.

Ew, is MAX the one who is uploading the clips??

I do love the commitment to using Almond waking up Latte as a framing device for the state of the house.

Oh, Peak, you tried.

What in the Princess Leia is this towel arrangement on his head?

These boys are crumbling so fast without Thanwa feeding them.

Okay, I feel better. Thanwa only intends to stay with Max briefly and is not giving him any suckface.

I’m really glad they got Pak for this role. He put a lot of power into that reconciliation scene with Almond and Latte. I like that they’re letting Almond have both desires: Yes he wants to prove his innocence, and yes he wants to help his friend. These are not at cross purposes.

Thank you, Lukpeach. We gotta actually solve the problem.

Gays, let’s please get it together. Y’all are making me feel awkward and I’m not even at this restaurant.

Peak, I understand you, and I am also so frustrated with you.

There’s something so perfect from the costuming of Thanwa in these clothes. They aren’t sitting correctly on him. He looks uncomfortable.

THIS LOOKING BACK AND MISSING EACH OTHER IS DRIVING ME INSANE.

I am in my 30s and spent my 20s either hustling or working in small businesses. There’s way too much chatter in the discourse about red and green flag human beings that strips them of nuance and personality. Let’s talk about a real red flag from a fucking job: Thanwa has told these food reviewer people that he can’t afford to do this little side gig for them, and then they call him out of the blue trying to pressure him into a 3 month probation for a 6 month job, and he must accept today because they’re the ones in a bind? HELL THE FUCK NO. DO NOT WORK FOR THOSE PEOPLE.

I’m glad Peak called Sean. He’s knows he’s the reliable one in this group.

I see you, Lukpeach. She is reaping! She invested early and it is paying off!

Thanwa is in his 20s. Now is the time for him to take these kinds of risks. I hope this works out for him, but keep your eyes open,

Latte has excellent taste in men. I love how every person we’ve seen Latte reconnect with, they all seem to have enjoyed their time with him and are happy to see him again.

Max, if I see you on the streets it’s on sight.

Goddamn, he’s trying to film Thanwa, too. I’m sick of this man.

Kick his ass, Jumper!!

That’s right, Sean, make sure you get your licks in, too!

Oh, what a messy final scene! Thanwa is totally fine to feel hurt about being accused here, but I also don’t think that Peak is off-base to think that Thanwa is trying to protect Max. He doesn’t know what has happened between them because neither of them has shared the important things.

This show continues to hold together! I’m so relieved. Curious where they go next, and if Max just disappears or manages to use his wealth to circumvent trouble. Also worried about potential video of Thanwa also becoming public and causing problems for him in this new role he just took.

[starlightsalvatore]

avalanche / stefan salvatore x reader

hi hi !! a new fic, slightly different than anything I've put out so far! no romantic undertones here - just good old fashioned platonic love. I'm deep into my rewatch and was inspired by what a good friend Stefan is and here we are. I wrote this super fast and didn't really proofread so hopefully you enjoy !!

avalanche / stefan salvatore x best friend reader

word count: 2.6k

warnings: language, mentions of blood, typical tvdu angst, overall fluffy friendship

The hum of the lights around you was grating, a constant reminder of just how much you could hear now, and you were worried it was going to be the thing to unravel you completely. If this were a week ago you wouldn’t have been able to pick up on the frequency, but this wasn’t a week ago. Every time you shut your eyes the events played out like a horror movie, each scene burned into your memory and igniting a fiery swell of pain every time the film rolled. You’d turned, at the hands of someone who used you to prove a point.

You’d thought the point would be your death… that after holding you hostage and letting your friends chase their tails for days on end the point would be your demise, another loved one ripped from their grasp in order to bend them to your attackers will but you’d been sorely mistaken. The point was making you just like them. The point was to ruin your life, not end it, because now you were frozen in time forever, a walking reminder of how they’d messed up, how they’d failed you. You were reduced to a lesson, your humanity stripped from you yet as you ripped cords from the wall and threw lamps on the ground to shatter you felt every human emotion on overdrive. Anger, fear, guilt… all crashing over you and weighing you down like an avalanche.

You hadn’t left the house in days… you couldn’t. Everywhere you went all you smelled was blood, all you heard was heartbeats and you were terrified. You had urges and desires coursing through your veins you were still struggling to understand and would never be able to rationalize. You never wanted to be the cause of someone else’s pain, the cause of someone else’s death and you knew the second you left your house it would only be a matter of time. Caroline had brought blood bags immediately following your transition, it was enough to keep you functioning and you’d consumed enough alcohol to kill a human a dozen times over in hopes of quelling the cravings for something warmer.

But they were still there, you knew they would be… you’d heard Stefan and Caroline talk about it enough as a human, you didn’t even need the crash course when it was suddenly your turn. You were driving yourself up a wall trying to wrap your head around how this had all happened, how seemingly in the blink of an eye everything had changed. Your best friends were vampires, you didn’t hate them, you didn’t think they were monsters, but you hadn’t wanted this for yourself. You supposed it was just another thing that was a matter of time. Everyone in your life was supernatural, everyone you loved and had laid your life down for dozens of times was just shy of human. Perhaps it was naive to think you ever had a choice, that you had the privilege to want anything.

You hadn’t wanted much before the Salvatore’s came back to town. You were the shy, reserved girl on the sidelines of your friend group… if your parents hadn’t been so close with everyone else’s you knew you would have never been in their orbit, but the childhood bond was difficult to break and you found yourself continually pulled along until you were right in the middle of a world you thought only existed in bad movies. You’d never thought about what college you wanted to go to, what you wanted to study or where you wanted to travel… it wasn’t that you were lost or without purpose, it was just that your parents did the best they could with a surprise kid they never intended on having, and you found yourself shrinking to be as little a burden as possible.

If you were being honest with yourself it wasn’t just the cravings that were keeping you locked inside… you didn’t want to face your friends, and you didn’t want to face Stefan. There was enough going on, everyone had gone through this and figured it out one way or another. There was no need to add your melodrama to everyone’s plates and you knew that as soon as you faced him he’d see right through the facade you’d desperately been trying to piece together the last couple days. The facade that portrayed you as being okay, in control and undeterred by the sourest lemon life had offered you. You knew you needed to push through and get over it, but you also knew you needed time to figure out how to convince everyone you were doing just that while you found your footing.

Stefan knew you better than anyone, as you did him… you reminded him of Lexi so much it hurt, and he brought out the new you, the one no one knew could exist before him. He was your best friend, and he made you fun. He shifted your perspective and taught you how to let go every once in a while… he taught you how to want. When he’d shut off his humanity and given in to the darkest parts of himself, when he’d closed himself off so entirely to Elena, it was you who brought him back. It was you who pushed yourself to the brink of your boundaries to pull him off the ledge, and it had been you who held him when he finally let it all back in… and when you lost your parents and wished more than anything you had a switch to flip it had been him to keep you afloat, to keep you from slipping back into that old version of yourself who was timid and quiet, the girl who went with the flow instead of stopping and considering what she wanted, and what she needed.

Another lamp went crashing to the floor masking a knock on the door and at the sound Stefan let himself in, quickly finding you in your bedroom surrounded by broken glass and still you hadn’t noticed his presence. It had been days since you’d checked in with anyone and while he knew you wouldn’t be in good shape he hadn’t anticipated finding you like this. So wrapped up in your own mind you were completely oblivious to your surroundings and he felt guilt for you being in this position, and guilt for being relieved to see you standing there in one piece.

“Hey, why don’t we sit down?” he asked softly, placing his hands on your arms from behind you and you were quick to react, spinning and pinning him to the wall by his throat before you registered it was him and you stumbled backwards shaking your head.

“Stefan… I’m- I’m sorry, I-” you started but you didn’t know how to finish… you tried to shake it off, to find some bit of calm confidence that suggested you were fine but it was pointless. 

“It’s okay, everything’s okay,” he replied, and it passed over your features so fast anyone else would have missed it but he didn’t… the way you winced at his statement. Nothing was okay, you weren’t okay, and he was quick to cross the room and pull you into him but you weren’t going down without a fight… as Stefan brought you out of your shell, helped you find who you really were everyone quickly realized that was someone who was stubborn and hellbent on seeing things through her way.

“What are you- I’m fine,” you said, pushing him off you and running a hand through your hair. “What’s with the drop-by?” Your breathing was erratic and you were losing your grip on the thread holding you together, with each passing second you were slipping further and further into everything you’d been trying to hold at arm’s length.

“You’re not fine,” he said, “it’s okay not to be, you don’t need to hide this from me,” he tried to reason and despite everything in your body language contradicting you, you dismissed him anyway.

“I’m not hiding, Stefan.” You let out a soft gasp as you tried to walk across the room only to have a shard of glass dig into your bare foot and he reached a hand out to stabilize you but you pushed him off once again. “It’s just glass, I’m not some fragile human anymore,” you said and the words knocked the wind right out of you. It was the first time you’d said it aloud. You weren’t human anymore. Suddenly it all hit you, the avalanche finally smothering you beneath its weight and you felt exactly what you had when your parents died… that wish to turn it all off and of course Stefan saw it clear as day.

“Hey, come on… take a breath,” he said softly, catching you before you fell to your knees. Your chest was heaving as tears welled and streamed down your cheeks, your desire to hold it together outmatched by the relief of finally letting go. He scooped you up and in the blink of an eye you were on the couch, in the only room seemingly untouched by your warpath. “You’re okay, I promise this is normal… you’re adjusting,” he reassured but it did the opposite and you let out a humorless laugh as you whizzed across the room and wiped at your tears.

“That’s the thing, Stefan,” you choked out. “None of this is normal!” Your arms shot out as if to gesture around you. “I died, but I didn’t stay dead. What about any of this is normal?” 

“Everything is heightened right now, and bottling it up isn’t-”

“Don’t you dare with the everything is heightened right now, don’t you think I know that? What choice do I have but to bottle it up? Everything is still going to shit, the wheels of time may have stopped turning for me but everyone is still in danger. My transition doesn’t change anything.” 

“It changes everything, it’s okay to acknowledge that,” he said, cautiously closing the distance between you as if you were a deer ready to bolt at any moment… and quite frankly, he wasn’t convinced you weren’t. “You are allowed to acknowledge that, you do have a choice.”

You laughed again, feeling like you were on the brink of hysteria as you paced in front of him. “I have a choice? When have I ever had a choice, Stefan?”

“You have to say it, you have to let yourself feel it or it will consume you… please, just let me in,” he pleaded, now right in front of you and when you looked up at him with wide terrified eyes he was certain his heart had broken at the sight. 

“I never wanted this, Stefan,” you whispered, voice wavering. “I never wanted to be a vampire.”

“I know,” he said, and this time when he wrapped his arms around you, you let him. He pulled you to the floor and held you close as you let yourself fall apart completely, finally letting go and letting yourself feel what you’d be desperately staving off and his hands soothingly moved through your hair, along your back, down your arms… trying to make you feel as comfortable and safe as he possibly could. 

When your sobs finally subsided and your breathing finally leveled out he pulled back slightly to cup your face between his palms, forcing you to look at him. “I am so sorry that this happened to you,” he said softly, voice thick with emotion and eyes watery at seeing you in so much pain. “I’m sorry I didn’t protect you better, and I am so sorry that you had your choice ripped away.” His thumbs swiped along your cheekbones, wiping your silent tears. “But I promise you, you’re going to get through this and you’re going to be okay. I will help you, you don’t have to do this alone.”

“What if I’m not okay? What if I’m…” you trailed off, not wanting to hurt him and drag him down with you.

“Like me?” he finished and you nodded softly, trying to look down at your hands but he didn’t let you. “Caroline and I will teach you… no one expected you to figure this all out on your own,” he said, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “Why did you shut me out?” 

“I didn’t… Stefan, I don’t know who I am anymore, I don’t know how to do anything anymore, I didn’t want to dump this on your-”

“I know who you are,” he interrupted, voice firm. “I will remind you every day if you need me to… and you are never dumping anything on me, please don’t ever think like that again.” 

You nodded, unsure of what to respond before curling back into his chest and letting out a soft sigh. “Thank you,” you decided on as his hand rested on the back of your head holding you close and you let the sound of his steady heartbeat ground you. 

“Sweetheart, you pulled me back from the depths of hell,” he chuckled. 

“Oh, so this is just repaying the favor?” you asked, looking up to narrow your eyes at him.

“Yeah, figured I owed you one,” he teased and you rolled your eyes. “You don’t need to thank me,” he added earnestly. “You’re my best friend, whatever burdens you burdens me. That’s how this works.” 

“Yeah,” you sighed, laying your head back down, “but it was so much easier when it was always you in distress,” you replied and he squeezed your waist playfully causing you to jerk at the sudden attack. “Am I always going to feel this way?”

“No, you’ve been a vampire for less than a week… this is a major adjustment, it’s going to take time but eventually you figure out how to manage it. You’re going to be okay, you just have to give yourself room to grow… no more disappearing and going it alone.”

“It was a little dramatic wasn’t it?” you chuckled and he couldn’t help but join you.

“No, dramatic was breaking every lamp you own,” he replied and you let out a full laugh now. “Can I ask why just the lamps?” He hadn’t missed the fact that every other breakable had remained intact.

“The hum,” you replied. “It was getting on my nerves.” You both fully succumbed to your laughter over the ridiculousness and it felt good to feel something other than despair… It felt good to poke fun at the situation. 

“Come on,” he said, pulling you to your feet and smoothing your hair back into place. “You need to get out of this house, and I’m pretty certain if you don’t Elena is going to light this place on fire and smoke you out.” 

“Alright alright,” you said, holding your hands up in surrender, moving to head for the front door but he gave you a skeptical look. “What?” He only looked you up and down, which forced you to do the same to yourself.

“I love you, but you need a shower.” He pushed you back down the hallway and you grabbed the nearest object, which happened to be a book, and hurled it at him with expert precision.

“Yeah, fuck off,” you replied, waving your hand at him before disappearing into the bathroom and you let out a sigh as you rested against the closed door. Nothing about this would be easy, and you still had a long way to go, but you felt better than you had in days.

[lover-of-mine]

This is probably my conspiracy brain talking, but your point about someone wanting to shut down the cast/crew harassment and general Tommy mess…

I just can’t help but wonder if that’s part of the reason why this interview dropped in the first place. Seems like odd timing since we aren’t that close to the season premiere yet…

I am right there with the conspiracy, but here's the thing, baby, the pr stuff that's been happening this hiatus is very interesting. First the cameos stopped out of nowhere and then we had Oliver removing an interview from his profile allegedly because of the comments. These two can just be because of the actors, so it doesn't say a lot, we can't know for sure any of those were because someone on the show told them to. But when we think about that along with the way Oliver and Lou did that interview, didn't talk about the relationship at all, and Oliver looked like he was only there because his contract said so, and the way Lou reduced his interactions, there are questions. But sure, let's ignore that, there's the whole war going on. The hacking drama, random crew people and journalists getting harassed, even Joaquin is blocking people, Ryan is getting attacked, allegedly the 911 official account is blocking people, whole comment threads are disappearing, Oliver stuff getting flooded, people keep saying Tim said this, this, or that. Then Lou stops interacting with them as a whole and we get the deleted scene after the whole "there's an I love you scene coming" thing kinda like the way we got the title for 704 after that whole buddie begins thing went viral. That scene doesn't do Tommy any favors, but there is still a lot of talk about how great it is and how bt are soulmates and shit. There's even more Tim said this talk with someone saying we only got that scene because they asked Tim for it. Then we got the bees and the date and no cast changes even though they were still hoping for it. More people mad Tommy is not a main. So they drop that video of Ryan even though he's not telling us anything new, considering the way Ryan has been saying that scene was his favorite since before the season was airing. Comments are all freaking out about buddie and how season 8 should be buddies. With your occasional and very loud no one wants buddie, keep Tommy, still bringing Tim's name into the situation, while talking shit about Ryan and now occasionally Oliver. Now Tim talks explicitly about people using his name to attack other fans. If we get anything new buddie related in the near future, Ryan has an interview this week but no clue when it's dropping and filming is starting, so new content anyway, I will be 100% sure they are monitoring responses trying to figure out the way to go here. Because the deleted scene is trying to get control of the narrative back, if they can't get control of the narrative back, if the harassment continues, keeping this going will only make it worse, yk? The longer you give them hope, the messier this is gonna get. I know at this point contracts are probably already worked out considering filming is already starting, but I legit think someone in the pr team is trying to figure out if it's even worth bringing him back or if it's easier to just to tell the writers to just write him off and figure out some other way to deal with whatever his purpose with Buck is. If it reaches a point where the creator of something is doing interviews saying something like that, there's no way the show's pr team isn't monitoring shit. From a business perspective, something has to be going on, not even because of buddie, but because they keep saying Tim did something, they keep attacking Ryan, there's shit against Oliver, there were even comments against Aisha after the deleted scene. A ship war is good for business, if it wasn't there would be as many love triangles as there is out there. But they lost control of the narrative and a ship war becomes a problem when the ammunition is not from the source material and it's actually creating problems for the production. We fans can kill each other all we want, it's a problem when cast and crew start taking hits this frequently. Does this make sense? They have to be monitoring something.

[cellarspider]

7/30 germs.

(Previous) | (Index) | (Next)

⛬

We return to a movie that disrespects the archaeological importance of roads, Prometheus.

I am still not over that. I will never be over that.

This time, content warnings for continuing frat boy archaeology, cringeful application of racist terms to lily-white androids, me screeching about site contamination some more, and Apollo’s dodgeball striking this movie with a glancing blow about masking.

So, back in the theater in 2012, I had already lost sympathy for the cast. They were being set up as stock horror movie characters, they were doing their jobs in a way with a certain flair for the incompetent.

And one of them, I suspect, the movie intends to make into a “flawed but you feel for him” kind of guy. Or, I hope they intended to make him “the guy in the slasher movie who you hate and want to see die”. That’s Holloway, one of the two archaeologists. He’s robot racist.

Like, seriously robot racist. The whole crew is, David literally gets referred to as “boy” here, which isn’t so much a dogwhistle as a tornado siren. No wonder David is quietly starting to show his disdain for the human crew.

“They're making you guys pretty close [to human now], huh?”

“Not too close, I hope.”

One of the few themes the movie handles halfway competently is the parallel between the humans stumbling all over themselves as they rush to go meet their makers, while David is already experiencing the disappointment of actually meeting his, and finding out they’re a bunch of clueless assholes. Are we supposed to believe the same of the Engineers? I don’t know. They definitely think of humans as lesser, though. More to come on that later.

Because right now, an expedition is barrelling toward the alien structure–again, driving all over the FCKING ALIEN ROAD–and they’re doing it with only six hours of daylight left, because Holloway literally says “It's Christmas [...] and I want to open my presents.”

I cannot communicate how heinous this character felt. The actor did a perfectly fine job playing him, but if Charlie Holloway was real, his name would be said with the same venom as that of the man pictured below: Heinrich Schliemann, the man who found the real, actual city of Troy, and immediately dynamited a trench through the royal palace, destroying who knows how many artifacts from the period the Iliad was based off of. Yes, I picked out the most assholish-looking photo of him I could find on purpose.

Also, Holloway’s an anti-masker, apparently.

I’m going to step back for just one second and list the one practical, movie budget reason why characters might take their helmets off. The costume designers did an admirable job coming up with something that fits the general requirement of a helmet in major studio releases, prior to The Mandalorian: make the actor’s faces completely visible, because without actors with a strong sense of physical presence and voice acting, you’ll lose connection with the audience.

They did a great job with that. Unfortunately, shiny helmets are a bastard to digitally edit film crew out of. 

It’s not impossible to place lights and crew so that the audience won’t notice them. Alien certainly pulled it off. Clear plastic elements in helmets also mean other logistical challenges, though: fogging being the main one. This, and cooking your actors in a fishbowl under studio lights.

Both problems can be simultaneously combated by installing A/C fans within the helmets, but because these helmets are entirely clear, you’re limited to hiding them down near the neck, and anybody who’s done similar for a cosplay or suit will know that it’s potentially noisy and not always effective. You can actually see condensate on the helmets in the movie, though whether that’s from the actor’s breath or a deliberate choice, I don’t know.

All this adds up to increased time resetting actors (i.e. cleaning sweat off of them without disrupting their makeup), more exhaustion from said actors, and the worry that the highest-paid, plot-critical actors may decide they don’t want to do a sequel if the shooting experience is too physically unhealthy.

And then there’s also more time spent carefully arranging crew and lights to hide their reflections, or more time making some poor VFX artist erase a transparent, curved reflection from frame and replace it with something else, or make the actors more comfortable by adding the glass in later with CGI, at the potential loss of some realism. The average modern movie studio would choose one of these VFX-driven options and demand it done in a week, which is why VFX artists need to unionize.

So. I understand at least a few logistical reasons why you don’t tend to make actors wear helmets for too many shooting days. But it has to be balanced with the story. It has to feel believable. It has to fit the story. It has to not make your characters look like mud-witted morons.

As soon as they find liquid water and the oh-so-deadly CO2 levels start to drop, Holloway takes his helmet off.

“Don't be an idiot.”

“Don't be a skeptic.”

Flames on the side of my goddamn face.

Now, this is the moment a lot of people lost sympathy for the human characters, even back in 2012. It was a dumbass idea even then, in the pre-’rona years. Sadly, Millburn the biologist isn’t written smart enough to punch Holloway in the nuts over even thinking of doing this, because we have two problems with what Holloway’s doing here: Biology, and biology.

First, biology.

(https://www.turbosquid.com/3d-models/13-viruses-virus-3d-model/1071200)

Obviously, they don’t know if anything’s in the air. He could find out that humans are deathly allergic to alien dust mites. He could have just caught himself a case of space covid, which he and the lemmings that follow him can then transmit to the entire crew if he’s not kept in quarantine. They can sterilize the sealed suits, but they can’t sterilize the inside of his lungs. Yet.

Second, biology. 

Specifically, Earth biology. Do you know how carefully modern space agencies sterilize anything that’s headed for Mars, or anywhere else that might have a biosphere of its own? A lot! They sterilize everything a lot! Because microbes are hardy little bastards. We’ve never found extraterrestrial life, only precursor molecules that show the capacity for life to develop in other places. How are you going to verify you’ve found alien life, or even those precursors, if you can’t prove that your samples are uncontaminated? What happens if microbes from Earth manage to survive the trip and establish a foothold somewhere? What if they destroy native life?

This movie’s characters treat this with only a fraction of the gravitas that the cinematography does, which is part of why this remains so jarring throughout. The practical sets, the art direction, and the camerawork are all excellent. The editing continues to do its best, though it almost feels like things were cut very tight through this to speed things along and to give more time, unfortunately, to what the characters are doing. 

their crimes against my sanity are not done yet

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As a side note, rounding up some discussion from a previous entry: The most excellent artist @noordzee pointed out that the clashing artistic style of the moon and stars slapped onto the carving of Kʼinich Janaab Pakal I. In the previous post, I focused on the link between that carving and its use in ancient aliens conspiracy theories. But let's dig a bit into actual Maya iconography around celestial bodies instead.

Now, I am not an expert on Classical Maya stuff. Not in the slightest. And there is a lot of information on their art that is linguistically inaccessible to me, as a non-Spanish speaker. But out of the Maya art and writing that survived the book-burning conquistadors, we have some iconography for the moon and stars, and they don’t look like what’s in the movie.

I wasn’t able to find any specific pieces of art that contained stars, but I did find the glyph for star, ek’. 

I was only able to find depictions of a crescent moon in the context of the moon goddess, where she tends to be sitting on the crescent like a chair, or one part of it is shown behind her, almost like a tail (though I can’t be certain whether that’s due to chipped paint).

The moon by itself was somewhat harder to find. I couldn’t find any Maya depictions of it with my limited poking around of the spanish internet, but I did find a (much later) Mixtec depiction of the moon, complete with a lunar rabbit! Much like East Asian cultures, the darker markings on the moon are culturally interpreted as a rabbit shape.

Thanks again to nordzee for pointing out the dissonant art style, because the real mesoamerican art on this subject is phenomenal.

Next time, the movie will hurt me more, so if anybody else has fun facts to share or details to point out. PLEASE. Ease my pain.

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Alt text citations:

None this time. Many ramblings, though.

[spectordameron]

Okay, so now that I am a little more coherent (by a margin), I do very much want to talk about the recurring motif of light/darkness that surrounds Poe's story arc in the trilogy from the beginning to the end, because once you notice it, you can't un-notice it:

the first time we meet Poe, it is at night. He is bathed almost entirely in shadows from the perspective of the viewer, giving him something of a mysterious air - we can see more of Tekka's face here than Poe's, but Poe is surrounded and backlit by soft, amber lighting; he turns his head, towards the map and away from the viewer, towards the light.

Our first close up of his face, our proper introduction to him, is another interesting bit of lighting work; Poe is bathed in amber lighting, with a bright burning lantern/candle to the left of him, and the shadows at his right and just behind him. It fits what is quickly and firmly established: the galaxy is filled with a dark and looming threat that hides in the shadows, and Poe is rooted firmly in the light, keeping it at bay - but he's not immune from those shadows either.

The rest of the sequence on Jakku has similar Light/Shadow plays, with Poe often surrounded by amber lighting/fire, firmly associating him with the imagery that's going to become prominent from a story perspective in The Force Awakens, and then later with the Resistance as a whole.

The light/shadows motif continues even aboard the Finalizer, albeit on the other end of the color spectrum. The First Order is cold and dark, and there's no warmth here: the only warm tones here in this shot is scarlet lights haloing Poe's head and the blood on his cheeks, but even surrounded by the enemy, tortured until he's practically unconscious, Poe is cast in a soft light - even here, they cannot touch his innate goodness.

The biggest threat the Resistance faces in this movie, is Starkiller base, a weapon that, according to Finn -

And it's next target is D'Qar, to wipe out the Resistance once and for all - a plot beat that holds considerably more weight after The Last Jedi and the Rise of Skywalker, as sun imagery becomes synonymous with hope - the lack of which nearly tears the Resistance apart in TLJ, leaving them with a sense of hopelessness in TROS.

"But as long as there's light, we got a chance" is essentially the thesis statement to Poe's characters and his core beliefs, that we see go challenged in TLJ: as long as there's light, there's a chance. As long as good people fight, they can win. They will win.

It is Poe who makes the final blow against Starkiller base, and when it is destroyed, a sun is born in its place. He saves the Resistance, D'Qar, and countless other planets across the galaxy - and in the Resistance's retreat, Poe is shown (more so than any other pilot) to be swathed in the shine from the newly reborn sun:

In this sense, he's restored some hope to the fight too! Sure would be a shame if the next movie challenged his belief when there seems to be no light at the end of the tunnel - oh right that's exactly what happens in the next movie.

But first, the cloaked binary beacon. We're introduced to it by Leia helpfully describing its purpose to bring Rey back to the Resistance as such:

It's a statement rife with symbolism; Rey's never had much to call home before, at least not until the Resistance, and she spends a large part of the movie being drawn to the Dark due to her connection to Ren, and her own longing and inability to let go of the past.

Leia is the one to initially hold that tether to bring Rey home, but drops it following the spacing, and Finn picks it up, who then later gives it to -

Poe, for safekeeping. So, the device that is immediately associated with Light, and specifically the Light that calls to Rey in the film, is given to Poe to protect and keep safe. And the shot immediately after Finn gives the beacon to Poe is

a rising sun on Ahch-To, to really hammer in the light/sun imagery and Poe's association with it (and Rey of course, she's got a lot of that too, but this is a Poe meta).

The next time the Light motif comes up, is during Poe's confrontation with Holdo. While I'm definitely trying to keep this focused on what we see in the movies, I do think it's worth noting that in the novelization, Poe spends most of his time trying to boost morale, helping the evacuations of other ships (until he's randomly and inexplicably grounded by Holdo) and try to keep everyone's hopes up while Holdo remains distant and secretive from her people.

Obviously, Poe is a very proactive character and dislikes being sidelined and unable to help (this is established firmly in the opening sequence of TFA), but I think it's notable that one of the primary things that has him angry enough to confront her - and yell at her, which Poe rarely does even when he's upset - is the fact that their situation feels dire and hopeless, and he's desperate to know there is hope, and they're not just hurtling towards their deaths (in the depths of space, the ultimate darkness), at which point Holdo reminds him:

Poe finishes the saying seamlessly, implying it's something Leia has reminded him time and time again of; it's a far cry from, and nearly the opposite to his thesis statement in TFA, that so long as there's light, they have a chance. He struggles with keeping hope if it's out of sight, which is a character beat that TROS takes and runs with.

(side note: I love how fucking IRRITATED he looks when she brings up Leia. He's like DO NOT. TRY TO CALM ME DOWN WITH MADRECITA RIGHT NOW. I love him.)

Later aboard the shuttles, we see the Light motif once again: ostensibly Leia is talking about Amilyn here (and is, but there's certainly a double meaning here in my mind), but it's overlaid by her reclaiming the beacon from Poe, who has been keeping it safe all this time:

I would say that quote definitely also applies to Poe, as much as it does Holdo - both were doing what they thought was best for the Resistance and what they thought would best protect the Light, whilst not caring if they seemed like a hero or not (for Amilyn, it was appearing cold and distant and like she didn't care, for Poe, it's the mutiny).

The last time the Light motif comes up in dialogue in the film (and I think in the trilogy, at least in conjunction with Poe's arc), is Poe's rallying speech on Crait:

It's of course, a statement he learned from Amilyn; but rather than the return to the status quo that hers implies, Poe's is more focused on ridding the galaxy of its current evil, with no thought of returning to what was, which of course ties into the film's theme of letting the past die, the trilogy's/resistance's message of moving on and continuously doing better than the past rather than stagnate, and rounds us back to Starkiller, I think: because it is about change. They are the Light that will change the galaxy, they are the spark that will change a weapon into a newborn sun.

We also get a play on Lighting, again, with the lifting rocks sequence. Poe is the first character we see react to the rocks being lifted (with Leia in the background), and he goes from being trapped in the shadows to once more being bathed in sunlight:

Hope has, for the moment, been restored to the Resistance, and to Poe, but the fight is far from over.

TROS takes Poe's struggle to keep hope when all seems dark in TLJ, and goes further with it, giving us a Poe who is more emotionally fraught, and near despair that all he has done - everyone he has lost - has been for nothing and the First Order will prevail. As such...Poe is rarely in the sunshine at all in TROS: there is some initial moments on Ajan Kloss where it's clearly daytime (when he's arguing with Rey, and later when he's checking in on her before they leave), and majority of the Pasaana sequence, but the rest of the time, he's usually in extremely shadowy settings such as the sand burrows:

We could take the dick joke and make it serious about him keeping a form of light closeby, but I think the dick joke is funny considering the irony of putting it in the movie where those pants makes it clear he's got nothing to worry about, ahem, anyway.

The sand burrows is an interesting sequence, because it's specifically one of the few moments we see Poe genuinely panicked and afraid. He's easily the most freaked out of the group when they're in the sinking fields, grows increasingly irate with everyone the longer they're trapped (I suspect it might be Crait trauma), and he's just generally anxious about what could have made the tunnels, about the bones, and then he's the most worried about the snake (except Threepio).

The next time we see Poe in the dark, is on Kijimi. I honestly don't even know if Kijimi has a daytime, and I can't find anything on it, but I don't recall it being mentioned much in Free Fall. Either way, when Poe confides to Zorii just how much he's begun to lose hope that they could win, that he's even making a difference, and this has all been for nothing, it is in the middle of the night:

But even at Poe's lowest, there's still Light: it's an inverse to the establishing shot we get of him in TFA, where there was shadows looming just beyond his shoulder; now, the shadows are in front of him, and the Light is behind him, just out of reach - he can't see it, but Zorii can, and she reminds him that this isn't who he is, and that he doesn't truly believe all is hopeless.

However, even after hearing that much needed reassurance, we still don't see Poe around any natural lighting, either. They sneak aboard Ren's destroyer, and then go to Kef Bir to locate the Wayfinder. Here, we see Poe's second lowest moment of the movie: his and Finn's argument, where Finn (unwittingly) affirms Poe's deepest insecurity, that he's not enough because he's not Leia:

Kef Bir is an overcast, rainy planet, so visually, Poe is still without hope. When he, Finn and Chewbacca return to Ajan Kloss, there is sunlight, and I think that's partially to represent that they were going to Leia for help - she was meant to be represented by that sunlight, but then once they find out she's gone, we return to the drearier sets on Ajan Kloss:

And once Poe realizes that he is alone, without his mentor and fellow leader, he retreats further into the darkness:

But he is looking towards the Light, just behind Leia:

As Lando approaches, Poe steps further into the Light, filled with newfound resolve and hope: Zorii and Lando both believe that all they need is each other, that they aren't alone, that there's hope, and that's all that Poe needs.

The lighting isn't so noticeable, but he's not in the shadows anymore. It's even glinting off his mother's ring, which represents a future Poe hasn't gotten to live yet.

Obviously though, this is a story, and the climax requires a falling action before it can rise again, so when they arrive on Exegol (a planet that is nothing but Darkness, with no sun at all due to an ongoing storm) and the situation grows increasingly more dire, the Light/Dark thing grows more prominent.

When the fleet arrives, there's a patented JJ lens flare that goes over Poe, and Poe flies his X-Wing out of the shadows of a stardestroyer, into the light of the fleet:

I'm sure there's probably more instances during the actual Battle of Exegol, but I haven't seen it a lot of times to say for sure because I am allergic to Poe crying and avoid the sad parts of the movie quite a bit, but it's worth noting that once they win, the storm on Exegol ends, and we get the sun again:

And of course, we return to Ajan Kloss for our final celebrations, which bookends Poe's introduction quite nicely. For the entire duration of the sequence, he is surrounded by life: greenery instead of desert sands, people instead of being isolated and alone (no offense Tekka), and sunlight. Lots of sunlight.

In fact, our last closing shots of Poe, are him smiling and utterly bathed in the soft rays of Ajan Kloss's sun:

Poe's sun/light imagery is simultaneously overt, through dialogue, and subtle in the various ways they manage to include it in the lighting of his scenes, and the slow progress of him being surrounded by Light in TFA with the dark looming behind him, all the way to TROS doing the inverse by having him covered in shadow with the Light just behind him.

Poe is inarguably the anchor point of the trilogy, he and BB-8 are the first characters we are introduced to, and he is the sole primary character who's loyalty to the Light is never in question: he is continuously a foil to Ren, who repeatedly rejects the Light in favor of the Dark, and is the one to safekeep Rey's way back to the Resistance/to the Light for the majority of TLJ. In the TROS novelization, Poe is given by Leia the legacy of House Organa, effectively putting him in the most Light Side family of (mostly) non-Force Sensitives in the entire Star Wars franchise, and the trilogy's habit of pairing him up with its primary themes (Hope/Light/Sun imagery) really goes to show that Poe is a critical part of the story, and without him, the trilogy would be wildly different...and possibly even without hope.

[doll-shaped-cyanide]

Update (10/11/24)

What I'm Into Now

MCU (Wanda Maximoff, Agatha Harkness)

Knitting

Progress (Writing and Knitting)

Not much to report this week writing wise, but I am so close to finishing a shawl that I've been working on (pic below)

This was a feat because this shawl is so freaking big and I've been working on it for like three weeks. I'm a pretty slow knitter and I've completed well over a hundred rows (all with many, many stitches) in a relatively (for me) short time frame

For those curious, this is the Boneyard shawl by Stephen West (pattern free on Ravelry) in Wheel of Alpaca from Hobbii yarn (colorway: Film Noir)

Fic Recs

There we go! I'm thinking about also doing knitting updates along with my writing updates as I tend to just do one or the other throughout the week. As the holidays approach, and I've decided to make my gifts this year, I'm going to be doing a lot of knitting. I'll continue the fic recs, or alternate them out with silly YouTube videos that I've been enjoying, as I watch a lot of YouTube when I knit. Either way, the fic recs are staying.

Agatha All Along thoughts under the cut.

BRO THE SCREAM I SCRUMPT

Let's work backward, shall we?

First of all, we been knew that Teen was Billy, but being on the cusp of confirmation still feels unreal. The sudden change between sweet teenager and Wiccan still felt natural and deserved after he watched Agatha kill Alice but at the same time horrifying. I haven't watched anything else with Joe Locke in it, but I gotta say, the guy can act.

The way Billy knocked Agatha out of her trance with her son's name and the little boy's voice so sweetly saying "mama"... *chef's kiss* We are going to get some more Nicholas Scratch in the future and I am here, ready to twist it to suit my fanfic purposes.

I love the appearance of Agatha's mom and her belief that Agatha was born evil, as well as the idea that once Agatha "latches" onto another witch's magic, she loses control. That's such a cool concept, and I can't wait to see how it plays out.

Jen and Agatha definitely have beef that goes way back, and I really hope we get an explanation for it.

The reappearance of the Salem Seven! Their re-intro was so creepy and I loved it so much.

I am going to vibrate out of my skin! I cannot wait for next week!

[setzappersto-pew]

I think we all need to take a step back, temper our expectations, try to have some critical thinking skills, and judge the show for what it is instead of what it could or should be. This is Rick Riordan retelling the story for a new generation (in a new medium, which necessitates change--a novel is not the same as a TV/film script) from a future perspective, knowing what the future holds for these characters. He can introduce themes and ideas earlier and hammer them in harder, work on character development in a different way, create slightly altered scenarios to make more tension and drama...because he has a full plan now, not just a bedtime story. Is this future planning a good thing? Debatable. But I'm here for it if it can be done well.

Let's look at episode 6.

While I like our trio just stumbling into places and being dumb kids about it, just vibing at the arcade games while the world spins on...going to the Lotus Hotel with a purpose gives them more agency and drives the story more, even though they still fall into the inevitable trap because they can't escape that magic. Grover's deep desire to be a Searcher (a theme that comes to fruition in the future) is what keeps him stuck there. Percy and Annabeth find Hermes, which brings the conversation back around to Luke; Annabeth's so close to Luke, and Percy is his literary foil, so naturally that's what keeps them trapped. On that subject, focusing so much on Luke and bringing in his backstory so early really hammers in the theme of the gods needing to step up as parents lest they ruin their children's lives and start wars...and the idea that Luke was right, he just chose to do horrible things about it (while also being manipulated by Kronos, I know). We're setting up Kronos and the idea of something much bigger than just the bolt being stolen, which was likely not on Rick's mind in 2005. My point here is that there's more of a thematic purpose with the deviations, and the themes are indicative of a larger story. The downside of this, however, is Hermes kind of giving them the answer--and also keeping them there--instead of Percy figuring out that too much time has passed. You win some, you lose some.

Percy's been given 4 pearls instead of 3? It's meant to set up false hope. One will likely break or get lost, and Percy will still have to make that choice. We hear him say "Hold fast, Mom" in the teaser for episode 7, implying she will stay behind and he will fail to save what matters most. I also think this shows that Poseidon still cares for Sally and Percy, since he seemingly intended for Percy to save Sally too.

The solstice has already passed? Adds higher stakes. Gives Percy a choice: go back to camp, like he wanted to when they were only in New Jersey, or stay the course. He chooses to continue, to do the right thing and try to stop this war and anything beyond (and to save Sally too obviously), the complete opposite of him at first refusing to even go on this quest. He's seen a glimpse of his father's care, has a different perspective on the gods' parenting from Hermes, knows there are worse things to come thanks to his Kronos-dreams, and chooses to hold fast and brave the storm.

Episode 5 had similar complaints. Hephaestus's trap was different, but the goal here was to showcase Percy and Annabeth's growing fondness for each other and Percy's self-sacrificial tendencies and Fatal Flaw of loyalty, as well as establishing Hephaestus as more of a sympathetic ally. No spiders to show Annabeth does get scared (a logistical nightmare they tried but couldn't get to work, according to Rick), but she is scared of being abandoned and of losing Percy just like she did Thalia. Again, this changes Percy and Annabeth defeating the trap by their own skills, but it emphasizes the mindset that Percy holds about the gods being "correct" and the ability for the stubborn gods to be swayed. Grover was just a sidekick in this book chapter, but here he's unfurling the mystery, using his powerful empathy to understand Ares and subsequently trick him into saying too much, providing the misdirection of Clarisse, etc.

Some people need to have a little more patience with this too. No Fates when Percy's leaving Yancy, but we get them later when they show Annabeth the string they cut--which is Luke's lifeline, not Percy's, further tying her to these two characters. I saw some complaints that they skipped the Oracle, only to get it first thing the next episode. Others were worried about Percy's fugitive plotline being gone, when the first real instance of this in the book was after he gets out of the Mississippi River anyway...so, right where we got it in the episode (there was a small instance before they left camp, but I think that's okay to gloss over). Ares presents them with more of this plotline instead of them catching it on a TV, which is such an Ares thing to do so it works for me. No Iris Message in Denver, but we got it in episode 6 when they have more suspicions to report; Luke is still kinda shifty in the call and now he has another person to blame directly, making the misdirection even more fun. Percy and Annabeth don't have their iconic talk in the truck, but they've touched on a lot of it already in other conversations and maybe they will do more before Percy's fight with Ares (she still gives him her necklace as we can see in teasers, so this seems likely). Percy's getting wet under the water instead of staying dry, and we have yet to see him talk to a horse (the zebra is barely seen in episode 6, which I will admit is just silly given the episode title); maybe we'll get those later when it matters more to the plot, instead of just tacking it on as more stuff he can do.

My point here is this: this is not a beat-for-beat adaptation, and I don't think it should be. This is a retelling with the ultimate series themes and events in mind, not just the immediate events. It's got the vibes and the soul of the world and the characters. The deviations still feel like the characters would have made those choices, they still fit in this fictional world. Some are attempting to fix details that worked in 2005 but don't in 2023/2024, or that were extraneous details that filled the pages but not the plot. Some changes emphasize different themes like the gods being able to be swayed in their mindset, while no longer showcasing our heroes skills and abilities--but their skills and abilities are shown in different scenes. It's a trade-off that usually pays off. There are some missteps and pacing issues and exposition issues, but it's a show aimed at kids who don't know the finer points of Greek mythology with 30-40 minute episodes (the latter is Disney's fault). I see the changes and understand that most of them are used to tell the greater story, the story of Percy Jackson and the Olympians, not just The Lightning Thief.

Bottom line: I'm having a good time! This show is making me really happy, while also nailing the emotional beats to really wreck me, and that's all I expected and wanted out of it. I like that some of the changes are making me wonder how things will play out differently with the same end goal ahead; it keeps it fresh and reinvigorates my love for this story. These kids are ACTING, they are these characters, and they have stolen my heart! Do I wish some things weren't changed? Maybe. But different doesn't mean bad. People are allowed to not like it, but I hope they have a good reason for not liking it besides "it's different than the books", especially when it's very much not different in the grand scheme of adaptations. If people would stop crying foul immediately and have some perspective instead, they might have a better experience.

[fullofmuses]

Hey everyone, the name is 𝘿𝙀𝘾𝙊, he/him, and 28 years-old. I run on Pacific Time (PT) where I happen to be online for vast majority of the day. Definitely way more reachable on discord for chatting & roleplaying purposes. Writing has been an integral part of my life now and it's continued to grow and evolve with time. In between a very busy schedule where I work full-time of roughly 40-50 hours on any given week. My job is flexible and allows me time to be responsive throughout the day, hence why I don't foresee anything stopping our time from writing. Should anything defer me from being active on here for a few days or weeks, any emergencies that would see my time decline, I promise to always be responsive and make sure that whoever I'm writing with is kept in the loop. More about me, I love zodiac signs and conversing about them (ask me about mine), love talking about traveling and nature, goals as writers that we want to accomplish and love films / television. Overall, I'd say that I'm a writer that isn't all about just writing, ooc chat and swapping memes is something I also enjoy doing!

one. The writers that I'm hoping to engage with should be 20+, just for my own comfort based on previous experiences.

two. Male roles are the only roles that I will be playing, preferably roles that aren't a teenager or child.

three. A huge fan of mature / dark storylines as we progress into some unorthodox themes that others might be afraid to play. No children or abuse to any sort of a animal, but open to hearing out what anyone is comfortable with as long as it's consensual for both.

four. Themes and genres that I find myself drawn to happen to be : 𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞, 𝐬𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞, 𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐝𝐲, 𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐥, 𝐟𝐚𝐦𝐞, 𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐦𝐞, 𝐞𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐠𝐞, 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐚𝐥, 𝐬𝐜𝐢-𝐟𝐢, 𝐟𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐬𝐲/𝐦𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐞𝐯𝐚𝐥, 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐜 (𝐃𝐂/𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐥), 𝐠𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐬 / 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐨𝐧. If there are any other storylines or themes that you might want to try out, feel free to let me know as I usually keep an open-mind to anything worth writing.

five. Intimacy & smut are themes that I do write, however, I understand that many don't feel comfortable with so I can also fade to black if that's what you're comfortable. Ship storylines are highly coveted and intriguing as long as we don't make it a perfect fairytale.

six. No godmoding by any means necessary.

seven. Be respectful, this is just a roleplay site where I'm giving my time to you guys … please do not expect me to revolve around your world. I've had this encounter with many writers on tumblr before and it's unfortunate how some use this platform as a means to truly be cruel and weird. Treat me as if you'd be treating someone in RL and not on the internet, do that and we'll have no problem getting along.

eight. Banned face-claims or faces I just don't want to interact with / or use: Johnny Depp, Sydney Sweeney, Jenna Ortega, Barry Keoghan, Timothee Chalamet, Halle Bailey, Justin Bieber, the Sprouse twins, anyone that is deceased.

/ - If you have any other questions, feel free to ask away. I do try to answer all of my messages or asks, but definitely let me know so we can begin writing incredible stories.