#sometimes i like meaningless fun in movies

[goryhorroor]

the most annoying people are those people that are so critical of a movie to the point that if you even like the movie or simply don't like it, they throw a fit and go on an essay-length rant about how your own opinion sucks.

bro i'm allowed to like a dumb movies and hate some "brillant movies."

[hiddenreamers]

F1 Drivers x foreign!reader

SUMMARY: When they know social norms and the local language, sometimes it might be hard to spot a foreigner. Even then, there are details to their daily life that might give away their heritage. Whether they're strange, funny or heartwarming, it doesn't really matter. Your boyfriend wouldn't have it any other way.

Featuring: Lando Norris, Lewis Hamilton, Daniel Ricciardo (it's my delulu I set the rules), Max Verstappen, Carlos Sainz Jr, Charles Leclerc, George Russell, Oscar Piastri

Note: I'm a Polish gal, so the examples I've used are quite specific and probably not universal

Lando Norris

You're unsure if his terrible pronunciation is genuine or just a ploy to make you laugh. As time goes on, you're leaning towards the latter. The comedic timing of throwing out mispronounced random phrases and words is almost too perfect to be accidental. Considering the cultural differences, you have your quirks and superstitions that are largely funny and meaningless to him. Despite his lack of understanding, he adheres to them like the letter of the law (except speed limits, of course). While it might seem pointless to him that you have to knock on "something unpainted" after talking about misfortune, Lando will never make fun of you for it. He might laugh, yes, but he just finds those little rituals endearing. Secretly learns to say "I love you" in your first language but this time, he wants his pronunciation to be impeccable. He really means it, after all.

Lewis Hamilton

He's been showing genuine curiosity from the very beginning. While he wants to get to know you better as a person, he also wants to know more about your home. Consequently, Lewis jumps at any opportunity to travel with you to your native country. When you're pointing out different buildings as well as memories associated with them, he feels like he's getting a better understanding of who you are and why. Like Lando, he's mindful of the cultural quirks and sticks to them but doesn't find them as funny. While he's well aware you don't expect him to follow them, Lewis still refuses to kiss you over the threshold once you tell him it's said to bring bad luck. He's not going to risk it, is he?

Daniel Ricciardo

The ever-charming man is interested only in learning swear words and pick-up lines in your native language. Not very surprising. Even less surprising is the fact that you might have (on at least one occasion) taught him nonsense or a silly phrase while claiming it's something sexy or romantic. He is yet to be corrected that a certain phrase is not a heartfelt confession but a simple question of "Where is my sauerkraut?". There's something impossibly attractive about you speaking your mother tongue, according to Daniel. You could read aloud a random Wikipedia entry and he's down bad by the second verse.

Max Verstappen

Practical as always, Max has learnt to read your first language just to occasionally help. You're busy and someone is texting you? Maybe you forgot the next ingredient or step for the recipe but your hands are dirty? Max is there to help. Despite not much practice, his pronunciation is really good. He does, however, have a secret. All the random things he's been reading for you? They got him familiar with the language, at least the basics. Still, Max pretends that he doesn't understand 99% of what he's reading for you because he doesn't want to miss out on all the ego-stroking "Max is wonderful!!" messages you receive from friends and family. The king of keeping a straight face. He's so used to hearing you refer to him by pet names in another language that when he hears it in a movie you're watching, he instinctively looks towards you.

Carlos Sainz Jr

Similarly to Max, Carlos has picked up some of your mother tongue. Pretends he doesn't because he's living for the gossip you exchange with your friends. Most of all, he HAS to know what you're talking about after hearing you say his name. Are you happy with him? Does he fulfil your needs? Although each time you're gushing over him, he can't help his curiosity. Carlos might or might not have overheard you talking to your friends about a sexual fantasy and later on used that knowledge to his advantage. But if anyone asks, he doesn't know more than a "hello" in your first language.

Charles Leclerc

Like many multilingual people, you have a habit of directly translating sayings and idioms or just getting confused about which ones work in what language. Funnily enough, Charles unknowingly picked up some of the phrases you use. He realises only when someone gives him a strange look for saying "happy as a whistle". On another occasion he says somebody "stuck to him like thistle to a dog's tail", which sparked a landslide of memes. Charles insists on you calling him pet names in your first language exclusively. He claims they sound more loving when you say them in your mother tongue but maybe he's suffering from the same ailment as Daniel Ricciardo...

George Russell

As adorable as they are, George's random questions can get slightly annoying. He might be working you up on purpose, not that he'd ever admit. This man has a curious tendency to suddenly point to a random object and ask you what's it called in your native language. When you tell him, he exposes you to possibly the worst attempt at repeating the word. George is trying his best, okay? He might not be able to pronounce or write it but when you say it, he quickly learns to recognize the word. This has lead to seemingly strange situations when you can't remember the English expression and say it in your mother tongue, while George without a problem gives you the answer or passes you the item. Some of the other drivers are now convinced he knows your first language and George somehow can't find the right occasion to correct them. After secretly practising, he says "I love you" in your mother tongue and despite the rather awful pronunciation, it's the best thing you've ever heard. It's not flawless but it's perfect.

Oscar Piastri

Similarly to Lewis, he's genuinly curious about your homecountry. The difference is, Oscar is more leaning towards the literature and pop-culture side of things. He has a list of books, poems, movies and plays that are considered important to your homeland. If there are English translations, he'll at least try to read them (on a few occasions he's settled for the cheat sheets and summaries). Multiple times Oscar has talked you into reading the original to him and afterwards claimed that despite understanding nothing, that's his favourite version. Movies, however, he wants to watch with you. It's a cozy date, yes. But! It is also an opportunity to learn more as you have a tendency to pause the film and explain jokes, give broader context or share a fun fact about something on the screen. Through all of that, he learns certain unspoken social rules and superstitions. You tell him he really doesn't have to follow them for your sake when you notice he refuses to put your bag on the floor or switches seats with you if you sit at the corner of the table.

[letters-to-lgbt-kids]

(Content “warning”, of sorts: unlike most of my posts, this isn’t intended as positivity or advice, it’s just a stream-of-consciousness piece of writing that I wanted to share) 

My dear lgbt+ kids, 

Every now and then, I receive a message like “Share this with your 5 favorite bloggers and ask them to share 5 fun facts about themselves” or get tagged in a post like “Share your favorite movie, song and book, and then tag your friends to do the same”. I read them, I smile and appreciate feeling included in those little games, and I log off without replying - and then I turn around and go „Oh, yeah, I guess I run a somewhat popular blog but people don’t really care about me, you know? I just, like, monologue to people about stuff and sometimes they read it but I as a person do not matter to anyone. I could be replaced by some robot and nobody would notice or even care.” 

As I’m typing this, I think that I could try to turn this into some general positivity and/or advice: on how people with a low self-esteem tend to dismiss signals that other people think highly of them, or on how small „meaningless“ connections like some random internet stranger just thinking of you while forwarding a chain message aren’t so small or meaningless at all, or maybe on how “lonely” can sometimes become a self-identity that stands in our way of connecting to others. 

Or I could talk about how part of the reason I just briefly smile at these messages but do not reply to them is the (re-) emergence of the queerphobic, false rhetoric that “queer adults are much more likely to be pedophiles, so all of them should be treated like suspects at all times“ (statistically not true, btw, but since when do people care about facts when they could just share inflammatory lies?) and all the ways it makes it hard to be a queer content creator with a young audience (and also to just be a queer human being at this point). And how even typing this makes me worry someone will twist all this into me asking minors for comfort and if maybe I should rephrase it, and now I’m thinking how this need to constantly self-censor ourselves fucks with our mental health and contributes to the loneliness epidemic among queer men. But this is getting too heavy and I’m running out of space in this letter. 

Yeah, I could write about any of these things now. I could monologue about it and someone would read it and they might even comment “good point OP” and I would read that and smile. And for a brief moment, we would connect. The same way two strangers connect when one lets the other cut in line at the supermarket and the other says thankyou and they never even look at each other and this small moment will be forgotten in no time but for a brief second it made the world a touch kinder, and it means nothing and it means everything. 

With all my love, 

Your Tumblr Dad 

[scuttling]

Flicker in the Dark - Jacob Black/Reader

Fandom: Twilight Saga Pairings: Jacob Black/Female Reader Word Count: 12,598 Tags: 18+, NSFW, Pining, Unprotected sex, Slightly aged up (Jacob is 20), Fix it fic Summary: My take on New Moon, if all of the characters were a bit more mature and Jacob got his girl. A/N: This is a third-person story that pairs Jacob with a girl who isn't Bella but who fills her role in the story; Bella doesn't exist in this universe because I find she's not as interesting to write as an original character, for me personally. The character has no name and no physical description, so treat her as an OC or a "reader," your choice there. :)

Keep reading below or link to AO3!

Bringing the idea of fixing the bikes to Jacob was the best thing she’s ever done: the best, and one of the dumbest, by far. 

They both have adult obligations now—she has class, and a part-time job, which are thankfully both online, and Jake works full time—so when the stars align and they’re free at the same time, they spend every moment in his garage like a couple of bored kids. They listen to music on his dad’s old radio, eat pizza and tacos standing up much more often than they should; Jacob isn’t twenty-one just yet, but they’re on the rez, so they sip beers sometimes, especially on the rare warm days where the sun shines into the garage and sweat prickles at their hairlines. 

He’s taller at twenty than he was when he was younger, broader and more filled out, like he’d said back on her birthday; she notices, sometimes, things like the tightness of his t-shirts stretched across his back, the way his jeans fit just, extraordinarily well. Those kinds of things you can’t help but notice, even if you’re emotionally, physically, and mentally unavailable, the way she is. 

He pokes fun at her age—forever a sore spot, especially when Edward is and will be twenty-two forever—but she catches him noticing her, too, sometimes, so she’s not a total embarrassment at least.

It doesn’t happen right away, like magic or anything, but hanging out in his garage does make her feel better; he makes her feel better, if she’s being honest with herself. He quiets the chatter in her brain, the anxiety, the self-doubt, and she smiles more when she’s with him, laughs more, gets out of her own head. She’s happier when she’s with him, too, bikes or no bikes—though the roar of the restored motorcycle engine certainly doesn’t hurt—and he’s good for her, there’s no denying that.

She remembers her dad’s advice, even more meaningful now that she’s moved out of his house and living on her own—sometimes, you gotta learn to love what’s good for you—and she even thinks she could, some days. 

That’s easy enough to say to herself, but so, so much harder in practice. She can tell Jacob is… interested, when they go to the movies, with the way he lays his hand on the armrest, palm up, in case she wants to hold it. Part of her wants to, really wants to; part just thinks about Edward and she clams up, can’t do it. She feels guilty, like she’s doing something wrong, even though he left her and not the other way around. 

She still loves him, will always love him, but Edward made his choice; she just wishes she felt free enough to make her own.

She feels guilty when they ride, too, because the one thing he’d asked of her was not to be reckless, and now she goes out of her way to find a rush wherever she can. Anything legal, be it motorcycles, rock climbing, running, skydiving, really, really big roller coasters—you name it, she’s done it, and though none of it ever worked as well as she’d hoped it would, she never stops trying. 

She knows better than to give herself over to things like drugs or binge drinking or meaningless one-night stands, but aside from that the limits to what she will try are almost non-existent. She loves the thrill of it all, loves feeling brave, feeling strong; In the end, she may wind up with a few cuts and bruises, but as long as she’s hurting no one but herself, she doesn’t feel too bad.

When she hurts Jacob, she feels awful, terrible, and she does hurt him—he’s so hurt for a while that he doesn’t want to see her, doesn’t even return her calls. She feels weak for the first time in a long time, like if she’d just been able to be what he wanted, to hold his hand, to kiss him, to get over herself, they both would have been happier. Now she just feels sad, and selfish, hurting the one person who has always been there for her, who’s always eased her pain.

She wants to respect his space, can’t bear the thought of hurting him more than she already has, but her anxiety gets the better of her; no amount of kickboxing or rock climbing has been able to take her mind off of him since that night at the movies, when he left in such a hurry. Even Edward has shifted to the back of her mind, though she has no idea when exactly that happened.

So she goes to him. Against his wishes. In the pouring rain. 

She’s so, so stupid.

He’s so, so shredded, even more so than usual; it’s the first thing she notices only because he’s soaking wet and shirtless and that makes it pretty obvious. The second thing she notices is his hair, no longer long and pulled back with a cord of leather, but cropped short, though inky black as always. The third thing she notices is the tattoo, a large, tribal design on his shoulder that looks well-healed even though she saw him less than a week ago.

She catalogs all of that, and then she remembers he’s avoiding her and that she’s here to ask for forgiveness (she’s willing to beg, but it’s sort of a last resort.)

She calls his name, but he doesn’t turn around at first, not until she’s right in front of him, fists balled angrily at her sides.  

“Jacob, I’m sorry… I’m sorry about the movie. Can we talk about it?” He huffs an unamused laugh, takes half a step closer; that kind of thing used to be playful, but now it seems almost menacing, between the muscles and the tattoo and the deepening frown on his face. 

“This isn’t about that. You–you need to leave. Now.” The tone of his voice leaves no room for argument… but then again, that’s never stopped her before. She steps closer too, more of a challenge than anything.

“Well if it’s not about that, what is it? What happened?” He turns away as if to leave and she reaches for him, fingers latching onto his wrist. She knows right away that when she tugs, and he turns, it’s because he let it happen; there’s no way anyone could force him to do anything now, not with how big he is, how strong, how solid beneath her hand. “Is it Sam? Did he get to you too?” 

“I was wrong about Sam. He’s helping me through it—just like he helped the others,” he says, but it sounds odd to her ears. If something was wrong, if he’d needed help, he would have come to her… right? “I can’t do this right now—you have to go. Please go.” 

Before, he was stern, but this time he’s pleading for her to leave, and that’s just not Jacob—they’d hash it out before he cut her off without so much as a word, instead of ghosting her and making his father lie for him and keeping secrets with Sam Uley.

“Jake,” she pleads too, but instead of tightening her grip on his wrist she brings her hand up to the nape of his neck, to brush through the short hair that lays there, drenched in rainwater. “Please don’t do this to me.” 

He closes his eyes like it pains him, and it very well might; she knows the similarities to the night Edward left are becoming almost too much for her to bear. 

Maybe that’s why she came here, after all, because she could, because at least she still knew where she could find him. Because even if he didn’t want to talk to her, at least she’d know he was okay. 

“I’m not doing this to you, I’m doing it for you. I’m not who you thought I was, I’m not good for you. You can’t be around me anymore.” 

Fuck that, she thinks immediately, because she is so absolutely tired of people telling her what she can and can’t do, what she’s strong enough for, what’s safe. 

She doesn’t want safe. All she wants is Jacob. 

“I decide what’s good for me; I decide,” she says, voice raised and rough, jabbing a finger in his direction, and he grabs both of her forearms and holds them between them. He looks like he wants to shake her, he’s so frustrated, but his grip isn’t tight. “You think you’re going to hurt me, or something? Because look at us, Jake.” Her gaze moves to his hands on her, holding her still but doing it gently, carefully. “It’s okay. You won’t hurt me, I know it.” 

He drops her arms like she’s burned him, like he didn’t even realize he was holding them, and takes two steps back, away from her.

“You’re right, I won’t—because you can’t ever come here again.” 

He turns and runs to Sam and the other guys, leaving her standing in the rain, soaked and alone, her stomach in knots. The chatter is back, the self-doubt, louder than ever now; if they could both do this, both leave her so easily, would she ever be enough for anyone?

She’s not sitting around her house moping about this, not again. She did that with Edward and it got her absolutely nowhere, so this time she resolves to just skip to the front of the line. She packs a bag for the trail and goes hiking, plans to take a long path deep into the woods, away from the bear attacks or whatever’s going on out there. Her dad would have her head if she walked headfirst into danger, and she knows better, anyway, isn’t going to actually risk her life just to get Rocky Mountain high. 

She hadn’t planned on risking her life, anyway, but how was she to know the formerly peaceful Laurent was back in Forks, red eyes and all, and that he was working with Victoria? That wasn’t on her supernatural drama bingo card, that’s for damn sure. 

She listens to him do the villain rambling for a moment, but irritation wins out over fear and she loses her temper, slips up and says that Edward is gone and he’s not coming back, and if he wants to kill her, well no one’s stopping him! 

He looks amused by her outburst, but the smile melts off of his face when an enormous black wolf steps out of the trees, followed by several others of all shades, shapes, sizes. She doesn’t get a chance to count them, just runs like hell in the other direction, but when she risks a look back they are going after Laurent with a precision she wouldn’t expect from wild animals just looking for dinner. 

She tells no one about the wolves—who would believe her anyway?—just runs back to her truck until she’s breathless, goes home and takes a steaming hot shower to rinse away the cold clamminess of his touch. She makes a cup of tea and changes into a t-shirt, a pair of shorts, then parks herself on the couch with her laptop for the rest of the night. 

Until the knock at the door that comes around 1 AM. 

It’s Jacob, and she’s so happy to see him that she forgets all about her day up until that point and wraps her arms around him, hugs him where he stands in the doorway. He hugs back, thank god, his embrace tight and warm and comforting, and then she ushers him in, offers to make more tea while they talk. 

“About the other day,” she begins, filling the electric kettle with water and plugging it in, but he cuts her off, panicked. 

“I wish I could explain,” he says, and he’s almost got those puppy dog eyes that always get him his way; he doesn’t even do it on purpose, just looks like that, and it’s incredibly hard to resist. “But I literally can’t.” 

“No, I know, I… I mean, I think I know.” She has a box of tea in her hand and she’s gesturing a bit wildly with it, so she sets it on the counter, walks closer to him, so there’s about a foot of space between them. “First rule of fight club is you can’t talk about fight club—wait, it’s not an actual fight club, right? Because you’d dominate.” 

He laughs, a real one, with his head thrown back, and she all but grins. There he is. Her Jacob. 

“No, it’s not a fight club, but you’re right. I can’t talk about it, I can’t tell you anything.” His tone of voice hurts her, because it’s clear this is something he wants, needs to share; she moves closer, eyes on his.

“And what if I guess? Is that against the rules?” He shakes his head fervently, rests his palm on the counter beside him.

“No, no—in fact, that’s exactly what I need you to do. Sam can’t stop you, and I know you, you’re smart, won’t stop until you figure it out.”  He reaches out with his other hand, tentatively, and links their fingers together like he did at the movies; when he brings their hands up to his chest, this time, she doesn’t pull away. “It would be so much easier if you knew.”

His face is so soft but so serious, his brow furrowed, and she squeezes his hand.

“I’m going to feel really silly if I’m wrong, but I don’t think I am. I’ve been working on it all night.” With her free hand, she pulls her phone out of her pocket, shows him the same screen she has up on her laptop in the other room. It’s a list of all the facts she has, her own speculation, and finally, in size 42 font, one very important eight-letter word. “You said before that Sam was collecting disciples—a pack of them, Jacob, right?” 

“Yes. Fuck,” he breathes, and though she’s heard him say it in the garage many times, this one is special because it means she’s right. He slides down to a seat on the tile floor, looks so relieved it makes her chest feel tight, and she kneels in front of him, hands on his bare shoulders. 

“You’re a werewolf, Jake, just like the legend—your tribe is descended from wolves. Tell me I’m wrong.” 

He doesn’t say a word, and at first she’s afraid she is incorrect, but then he reaches out and pulls her close, crushes her to his body. He breathes hard into her hair, holds her tightly, and she can’t help it, she cries, hot tears leaving tracks down her cheeks.

He brings his hands there after a moment, wipes the tears away with his thumbs, then holds her face like she’s something precious, lips turning up into a half-smile.

“Thank you. I knew you could do it.” He tips forward, presses their foreheads together, moves his hands to her waist. “You don’t know how badly I wanted you to know.”

“Oh, Jake. I’m sorry—I should have caught on faster. It’s obvious, when you put everything together, when you… You know. When you’ve seen what I’ve seen.” He nods his head and swallows, presses his fingertips into her side. She shifts closer, or he does, maybe they both do, so their breath mixes between them, soft and warm.

“It’s okay, you’re here now. You’re here, it's okay,” he repeats, and she pushes fingers through his hair, softer now that it’s dry. 

“I’m here, and I don’t have to stay away.”

They don’t quite kiss, because she’s still nervous, maybe even more so now—they were so close to being separated, and now that he’s back in her life, in her house, she doesn’t want to risk breaking this delicate, fragile thing between them. His mouth just brushes over hers, more a swipe than a press of lips, and she turns her head so the rest of it catches her cheek instead. 

He sighs, but he’s not upset, and he lifts a hand to smooth through her hair before dropping it altogether. 

“I should go,” he says, but she can’t bear the thought of losing him again already. She stands when he does, takes his hand the way he did before. 

“Can you stay the night? Please?” She squeezes his fingers, tries her hand at her own version of those sad puppy eyes. “I understand if you can’t, but I’d feel… I want you to,” she’s clear to say, and eventually, he nods. 

She makes up a bed for him on the sofa, intends to head upstairs when he’s comfortable; she doesn’t know what stops her, but she stretches out on the other end of the couch instead and they put on a movie, something black and white, volume low. She couldn’t say for sure who’s the first to fall asleep.

She’s the first to wake up, so she takes a quick shower, does some work, brews some coffee. He’ll probably head out the moment his feet hit the floor, so she prepares herself for that—she just hopes that the rest of his pack knows he’s there, that they aren’t worried, or frantically searching the preserve for signs of him like she would be. 

She asks him that when he pads into the kitchen an hour later, eyes sleepy, bedhead evident, and he pours a cup of coffee and sits across from her at the table. 

“Nah, they knew I was coming,” he assures with a sip. “They know by now that if they can’t find me, I’m probably here with you.” That makes her smile, though she looks down into her mug and tries not to show it. He takes a few more quick gulps despite the temperature and sets down his empty cup with a smack of his lips. “Speaking of the pack, I think you should meet them. We gather at Emily’s—that’s Sam’s fiancee—sometimes, and they’ll be there today.”

“Will they be angry that I figured it out?” she asks, genuinely curious. She wants to meet them, wants to know more about the group of guys Jacob is now supernaturally entangled with, but she’s not so sure a house of angry werewolves is somewhere she’s ready to be so soon after her last brush with death. He breathes a laugh and shakes his head. 

“They won’t be angry. They’ll probably be irritated with me, because I couldn’t just let you go…” Their eyes meet, and she thinks of reaching out to touch his hand across the table, though she doesn’t in the end. “But as for you, they’ll probably just be impressed.”

The pack is both impressed by her and slightly irritated with Jacob, but stern glances and eye rolls quickly turn to laughter and playful shoving, as they pile into Emily’s small but cozy kitchen and make introductions around a batch of fresh muffins.

She gets official confirmation on things she’d only read about—like their ability to hear each other’s thoughts when shifted, the accelerated healing, their speed, their power—right from the wolves' mouths, and they learn from her too, everything she knows about vampires like Laurent and Victoria. She doesn’t talk much about the Cullens, mostly because their secrets are not hers to tell, but she can see Jacob’s brain working as she mentions Victoria’s vendetta, as she shows the group the pale, silvery bite mark on her arm. 

“If she’s here, she’s here for me,” she tells them, and Jake tenses, his jaw tight, veins visible, shoots Sam a look that conveys they have a lot to talk about when she’s not around. 

Later, she suggests to Jacob that he take a walk with her, because she can tell how all of those stories have put him on edge. Together they amble slowly toward the beach, close but not touching, and this time she does take his hand, leans in so their forearms brush. 

“It’ll be okay,” she murmurs, tilting her head to look up at him. “You guys are strong, fast. You took down Laurent—I have no doubts you’ll get her too.” 

“Before she hurts you?” he says, staring ahead, voice rough because he’s been mostly silent all day, listening closely to her and taking everything in. “Because if she does…” 

“She won’t. The others are watching her,” she says, hoping like hell that’s still true, “and even if she finds me… I trust you to protect me.” He stops there, on the wet sand, and she turns toward him so she can see his expression, to get a better idea of what’s on his mind. 

“If they come back, I’m not allowed to fight on their land—I’d be breaking the treaty,” he says with a pained look. She understands the words he’s not saying: if they come back, I wouldn’t be able to protect you in your own home.

“They’re not coming back,” she whispers, because she can’t say the words any louder than that, even though they’re true.  “He made his choice, and that’s—that’s okay.” 

“Is it?” Jacob asks, leaning in, and she gets it, gets why; she hasn’t exactly been positive about Edward’s departure, how his choice affected her, took his family away from her too, and now suddenly she’s okay with it?

It isn’t sudden, though, not really. It’s been a gradual acceptance, something she’s been coming to terms with since the day he left. She knows Edward’s decision wasn’t made easily; she knows he didn’t leave because he didn’t love her, but because he loved her so much he put aside his feelings for her and did what he thought was right. 

He went about it all the wrong way, removing every trace of himself from her life, banning his family from communicating with her, taking her choices away, but in the end his heart was in the right place, and she’s found a way to respect that, despite everything. 

Maybe it’s just Jacob. He brought her out of her post-breakup shell, made her smile again, laugh again, feel important and wanted and cared for. Maybe he filled in the cracks of her broken heart so she could use it again, without the need for exhilaration and adrenaline to cover up the pain of what she’s lost; maybe it’s just Jacob, bright like the sun they so seldom see, special and rare and wild. 

“It’s okay,” she assures him, voice steady with her conviction. She raises their conjoined hands and presses her lips to his knuckles, just briefly, before dropping them back to her side. 

Jake nods, accepts her answer, and they walk further along the beach until the sun goes down in a hazy blend of blue and orange and red.

He offers to drive her home, and even though it’s impractical, and she’d usually put up a fight, she wants that extra time with him. Wants to be that close to him. She sits in the middle of the bench seat, neither up against him nor really on the passenger’s side, but close enough for Jake to throw an arm across her shoulders, and they listen to the radio and talk about his pack while cruising down the road. 

“I better go,” he murmurs before she can even unlock her front door, and she tries not to let her face fall; she’d been hoping he’d stay over again, or come inside for a little bit, at least. 

She must fail at controlling her expression, because Jacob smiles softly, like he’s pleased with himself, and leans in, brushing his fingers over the line of her jaw. 

“We’re patrolling tonight—got a vampire to kill. But I’ll call you tomorrow?” 

She nods beneath his touch, and he pulls back and turns to leave, jogging down the street and toward the forest that’ll lead him back to La Push.

He does call the next day, but it’s brief; Victoria’s back, just as Sam expected, so they’re running all night, all day, trying to catch her off guard, taking breaks only to eat and sleep when they absolutely have to. Jacob promises to check in when he can, but after three days with no contact—and a voicemail from her father about locals spotting wolves in the woods—she’s on edge again, less concerned for her own safety, more worried about Jake’s. 

She’s an absolute idiot for doing it—going to the beach, to the tall cliffs that loom over it—but she needs the rush again, doesn’t feel right when it’s just her own troubled voice in her head. She needs to hear the purr of an engine, the hum of a plane, the crashing of pure, white water against rocks… or maybe Jacob’s heartbeat. But the cliffs are the simple option at the moment, and all she can think about until she’s actually there, looking out over the ocean, the gritty scents of sand and salt in her nose. 

She takes several deep, long breaths. That’s the key to these things that bring her so much excitement—using all of her senses, so she’s not just herself but everything around her too. She needs to see the sun on the horizon, taste the spray of seawater and clean, crisp air. She needs to smell the damp earth, touch the frothy bubbles that lap at the shore, hear…

She hears a wolf, actually, howling solemnly in the distance, but doesn’t register the sound until after she’s already jumped. 

The waves are choppier than they’d appeared when she was looking down at them, and it knocks the breath out of her lungs when they crash into her body, pulling her down into the dark vastness of the icy sea. Her arms and legs move instinctively, fighting to bring her back to the surface, but the water is deep and heavy and she’s already so tired of trying. 

She’s so cold all she can feel is cold, her teeth chattering, so even when she hits her head on a boulder and it starts to bleed, she doesn’t realize what’s happened until everything turns black.

She’s warmer, suddenly, that’s all she knows, though the ground beneath her back is rocky and wet, uncomfortable. She thinks maybe it’s a blanket that feels so warm, but quickly realizes it’s Jacob above her, soaked to his bones, a sigh of relief passing his lips. 

“Oh thank god. Can you hear me?” He cradles the back of her head in his palm and helps her sit up, then presses his fingers tenderly to the sore bump beneath her hair. “Your head’s not that bad, but I bet it hurts.” 

“Hmm. Hurts,” she mumbles, her throat raw, temples throbbing. She’s cold and tired and thirsty, but ashamed above all else; maybe she really does need someone making the decisions for her, if this is the kind of stupidity she gets up to when she’s alone. “I’m sorry.” 

“It’s okay,” he answers quickly, and he runs his hands over her arms and legs, her neck, her face, checking for further injury. “I’m just glad you’re alright. The waves are bad today; you could have been swept away.” 

“I didn’t realize that until it was too late,” she admits sheepishly, and when he brings her closer she rests her cheek against his chest, feels tears stinging her already tired eyes. “I’m sorry, Jacob.” 

“It’s okay, I’m here. It’s okay.” His voice is as soft as his hands as they curve around her, holding her against him, and they sit like that for a couple minutes, until Sam runs over and tells him to get her home. 

He drives again, but this time she’s even more grateful, because there’s no way she could have done it herself. She feels so much at once—dumb and scared and childish, but also brave and calm, while somehow her mind races with thoughts of the wolves howling and Jacob’s hands in her hair. Her focus is shot, and even though she’s wrapped in one of Jake’s thick, fleece lined hoodies, she trembles, heavy and cold, as she peers out the passenger side window, watching the trees go by.

“Hundred and eight degrees over here,” Jacob says eventually, with a half smile, and she blinks for a moment before giving in; with a sigh, she scoots closer, wraps an arm around his waist. She can feel the heat of his body even through the layers they wear, and she shivers involuntarily at the pleasant but abrupt change in temperature.

“You still want me this close? Not afraid the bad decisions will rub off onto you?” It’s a joke, a self-deprecating one, and an apology all bundled together. “What I did was stupid, I know. I could have gotten really hurt, and you should have been out there with the pack, with Harry, not saving me.” 

He tilts his head, leans closer so his cheek rests against her hair.

“Well it wasn’t smart, but we all have our moments. And you couldn’t have known about Harry—don’t be too hard on yourself.” A long beat of silence passes, and she turns toward him, pressing her icy nose to his neck with another sigh.

“Mmm. You’re so warm. It must be nice, never getting cold.” 

“It’s a wolf thing,” he says with a shrug, but it’s not, not really, and she can’t let that stand. 

“Maybe, but trust me, it’s a Jacob thing too. You’ve always been warm.” She just sits there, breathes him in, lets him warm her hands and nose, so content she almost doesn’t notice when he pulls up in front of her house.

“This is better. Now that you know about me,” he says, tipping his face down, after he turns off the truck. She pulls back just enough to look into his eyes, to try to gauge his intent.

“But?” He swallows hard, looks away for a moment before returning to her face.

“You saw what happened to Emily. Sam got angry, lost it for a split second, and Em was standing too close. He’ll never be able to take that back.” He shakes his head, as if imagining the two of them in the same situation. What he could do to her. What she would think of him. “What if I get mad and I hurt you?” 

“You’re new to this—even if you are a natural,” she says, remembering a comment Embry had made when they’d last spoken. “You’ll learn how to control it, how to read the warning signs, and you’ll either stop yourself from turning or get somewhere safe. We’ll be okay,” she promises, resting her hand soothingly against his neck, and he sighs softly.

“Sometimes, I feel like I’m gonna disappear. Like one day it will be all wolf and no Jake.” He leans in, close enough that their noses just barely brush, and the way he looks down at her is something like… 

Yearning, she thinks to herself after a beat. It’s a powerful emotion, but she’s never seen it look quite so beautiful before. 

“You’re not going to lose yourself. I won’t let that happen.” 

“How?” he asks, bringing a hand up to cover hers, and she wets her lips, shakes her head to clear it; it’s swimming again, in this small space, so very close to him—especially when he’s looking at her like that.

“I’ll tell you all the time… how special you are to me.” She looks up, feels like she’s showing her soul to him, like this incident has stripped her down to bare bones and she’s letting him see her, once and for all. He stares into her eyes for a long moment, then leans in slowly, tentatively, and this time she doesn’t stop herself from meeting him in the middle, from pressing her mouth to his. 

She can actually feel the relief wash over him when she doesn’t reject his kiss, like he’s been tightly coiled and tense and can finally relax because she wants the same things, feels the same way.

She expects his lips to be warm, soft, but he is scorching against her skin, even more so when he moves his hand to her cheek in a gentle caress. With the palm against his hip, she pushes up his t-shirt, gets her fingers on his body, and they both gasp softly into the kiss, deepen it. 

“Jacob,” she sighs when they part for air; he seems okay, if a little shaky, but she feels flushed, eager, almost vibrating with the need to keep kissing him. She wants more, even though her throat burns like the last time his lips touched hers, when he forced the water out of her lungs and saved her life. 

That’s what he does best, her Jacob—like a flicker in the dark, he always pulls her away from the dangers of her own making and brings her back into the light.

“Is this real?” he asks, his breath a ghost on her lips; his other hand, on her lower back, pulls her closer to his body, and she turns her head and kisses the palm resting on her cheek. 

They kiss again, hands a bit less careful, hers sliding up his back, his weaving into her hair to control the tilt of her head. She gives in to it all, lets him set the pace, gripping him like a life preserver and letting his heat warm her from the inside out. She feels like she can’t get possibly close enough, wants to be pressed skin to skin, but she settles for sliding into his lap, ducking her head so she doesn’t hit it on the metal roof of the truck. 

He groans as she twists fingers into his hair, as she pulls him into her and feels the long, hard line of his body against hers. She kisses faster, harder, and he matches her fervor, wraps an arm around her waist and catches her chin with tight fingers. 

They kiss for a long time, and the cabin heats, windows fogging up as they share breath and saliva, as they murmur each other’s names like prayer. Her lips are red and raw when she finally needs to pause, and she rests her head against his chest and listens to the thunderous, wild beating of his heart. 

“Will you stay the night? Please?” she asks, voice a little broken—rough with need, and soreness from nearly drowning, and breathlessness caused by the most intense kiss of her entire life. 

Jacob nods, and he sets her carefully back on the seat, removes the keys from the ignition and climbs out of the truck. She slides out behind him, and he closes the door, takes her hand in his just like she did on the beach.

He locks the front door behind them when they’re finally inside—as if that will stop anyone we need to worry about, she teases with a soft laugh—and she takes the lead, walks up the stairs toward her bedroom with Jacob trailing behind. 

Despite his surreal body heat and the thick, warm sweatshirt he’d given her to wear, she’s still cold down to her bones, and wet like a drowned rat, so she pulls off her shoes and socks and sets them down by the radiator. Jacob watches her every move from a couple steps away, eyes lingering as she shrugs out of his hoodie, then pulls her damp sweater over her head. 

There’s nothing sexy or seductive about it, it’s not a striptease by any means, but he doesn’t look away when she’s down to her bra, and she doesn’t want him to. He bends down to take off his boots, to line them up next to hers, then bridges the distance between them and leans in for a deep, slow kiss. 

It’s not long before they both sink down onto the bed, and her fingers slip open the button of her jeans, then hesitate, wait at the button of his. She looks up at him, and the confirmation is all but written there, in the darkness of his eyes, the swipe of his tongue over his lips, but she needs to be sure. 

“I want you, all of you,” she murmurs, and then she brushes a hand through his hair, leans in to just rest her mouth against his. It’s delicate like the first time, but full of meaning, and he presses up into her kiss. “Do you want this?” 

“I want this. You. All—all of you.” He nods, licks his lips again, eyes softer but no less hungry, and she flicks open the button and kisses him like she did in the truck: hands on his body, in his hair, her breath all his. 

They don’t part, not really, just fall back against the pillows and tug at clothing, pressing kisses to throats and palms. His t-shirt drops to the bedroom floor, then her jeans and underwear, his, and the room is quiet except for the sounds of eager, wet kisses and soft, needy moans. 

She sits up, reaches back to unclasp her bra, and Jacob drags the strap down her shoulder, helps her take it off, leaving it somewhere in the bed; his mouth moves to hers, then down her neck, over her collarbone, and finally caresses each nipple with a gentle reverence that makes her ache all over.  

“You’re still sure?” he asks when she is shaking beneath his touch, strong arms wrapped around her back, and she nods and shifts up into his lap. 

When their lips meet, the kiss is hard, and she curls an arm around his shoulders, weaving a hand into his hair. They’re both panting when she leans up, guides him inside her, and when she sinks down it’s like a flash of tingling heat takes over her entire body. 

Jacob groans, holding her securely, thrusting up as she works her thighs above him. They kiss, deep and messy, graceless but passionate, her fingers tugging, his pressing hard into her skin. 

It’s not at all how she’d expected her first time to be; she’d imagined it would be with Edward, of course, and slow, but she can’t get enough of Jacob and it seems like he can’t get enough of her either. She’d imagined a cool, pale body above her, but it’s Jacob’s deep, rich, hot skin she presses her lips to, her fingernails against. She’d expected Edward’s hard, marble arms around her, and while Jacob is strong and firm he’s still soft, skin slick with sweat as they move together. 

“Jake,” she murmurs, the taste of him on her lips, his scent in her nose, woodsy, clean. “Jacob.” Her body trembles and he holds her tighter, presses his face into her neck. 

“I’ve got you.” She sighs happily at that, grabs his hair more roughly, rides him faster. 

“You’ve got me. You’ve always got me.” 

Jacob looks up at her, eyes fiery, liquid, then pulls her in with a hand on the back of her neck and kisses her like the first time—soft, nervous, sweet. The juxtaposition of that gentle kiss and his possessive grip makes her dizzy, and when he pulls back his face is all she can see, all she wants to see, all she needs.

“I’ve always got you,” he promises, his gaze tender, unflinching. “Always.”

He’s got her when he comes, holding her tightly with one thick forearm and dragging his free hand over her breasts, then lower, to rub her clit as she bounces herself to climax in his grasp. “Oh, god,” she breathes, voice like a shiver, and her fingernails dig half-moons into his biceps as they both slow, slow, slow, then stop altogether.

He eases them both down against the bed, arms around her, their legs entwined, and they catch their breath, just look at each other until the exhaustion of the day catches up to her. Her eyes flutter closed, and pressed so close to him, so warm, all she can do is sleep.

When she wakes, it’s still mostly dark, and she desperately needs to clean up in the bathroom and get a glass of water. Jacob’s t-shirt is the first piece of clothing she sees—or the first she wants to see—and she pulls it over her head and pads to the bathroom for a human moment—a very human moment indeed. 

She pauses, while washing her hands, to look over her reflection in the mirror. Rationally, she knows nothing has really changed, but at the same time everything has. 

The bathroom water is never cold enough to drink, so she treads down the stairs, across the kitchen, turns on the tap and lets it run until the water is icy and crisp. She fills a glass, takes a couple of sips, then almost drops it when a cool hand is suddenly pressed to her shoulder. 

It’s Alice, and she uses her other hand to catch the glass before it can hit the floor and shatter. 

“Relax. It’s just me.” Her eyes are soft, and it’s clear she is happy to see her, but there’s something else in her expression, something inquisitive. “You’re alright.”

“I’m fine. I’m… good, actually.” She shrugs, which bares her shoulder, in the large t-shirt she wears, that she’d forgotten she was wearing. She freezes—she knows how she must smell to Alice, like Jacob and like… Jacob—but her friend just shakes her head. 

“I couldn’t see you; well, I saw you jump off a cliff, and then you were gone. I thought you died.” 

“Alive and well,” she says with a tone that’s hoping for lighthearted, but… 

She has no regrets about being with Jacob, not one—she just hadn’t expected to be confronted with a vampire she once considered a sister almost immediately after. She doesn’t know what to say right now, how to act. Who to be.

“I was cliff jumping, recreationally. It was fun... for a minute.” Alice rolls her eyes, but it’s clear she’s happy she’s unharmed—though perhaps irritated by her tendency toward life-threatening idiocy.

“That doesn’t explain why I couldn’t see you, why your whole future went black.” Her golden eyes stare seriously, unblinking for a moment, and then she looks away. “Though maybe I owe that to the wolf in your bed.” 

Of all the nights for Alice to come back to Forks, she thinks, a suddenly uncomfortable pit in her stomach. Then she hears footsteps on the stairs.

“Not in her bed anymore,” Jacob says, voice low, from the doorway to the kitchen; he takes half a step forward, an aborted move, like he wants to put himself in between them. 

“This is Alice, Edward’s sister. Alice, this is Jacob,” she explains, trying not to focus on his shirtless torso, or the pained expression on his face. She blows out a deep breath. “It’s okay. She won’t hurt me.” 

“She’s hurt you before,” he counters, no doubt remembering every heartbroken, aching expression she’d worn in the months prior. He takes a step closer, so he is next to her, his forearm grazing hers, and Alice takes a step back. “I’d like to stick around, if it’s all the same to you.” 

He’s posturing, that much is clear, but she can't find it in herself to be irritated, because at least he’s giving her the option, letting her choose.

“I thought you couldn’t protect me here,” she says, turning her face up to look at him, and Jacob’s response makes heat pool low in her belly, just like the night before. 

“There is nowhere in this world I won’t protect you—treaty or no treaty.” 

She wants so badly to kiss him, but Alice is there, Alice, right in front of her after all this time, and she’s conflicted. Torn. He can tell, she knows, but he doesn’t take it personally, just reaches up to scratch his head, sighs. 

“So are more of you coming? Is–is he…?” 

“I came alone. And no,” Alice replies after a moment, but she’s looking at her instead, probably knows that he’s just saying what she’s too worried to ask. “He only calls in once every few months. Says he wants to be alone.” Jacob scoffs.

“Great. He wants to be alone, so you all leave her behind, unprotected? That red headed vampire is after her because of him.” 

That gets a reaction out of Alice, whose eyes darken protectively.

“Who, Victoria? I haven’t seen her.” She stares off into the distance, like she’s searching for memories, visions, sifting through what she’s seen and trying to piece together what she hasn’t. “Just like I didn’t see you get pulled out of the water. There’s a lot I haven’t seen, apparently,” she adds under her breath, and the other girl presses her lips together, sighs. 

Not the time or place for this discussion, and they both know it, but that doesn’t mean it’s avoidable for long. 

“So you can’t see around Jacob. The wolves,” she guesses. “I’ve been with them a lot lately.”

“With him a lot lately,” Alice corrects. Jacob huffs, but it’s not untrue, so she lets her think what she wants. Her silence must speak volumes, because Alice takes a deep, wholly unnecessary breath, and gestures toward the door. “Should I go?” 

“Please don’t,” she says quickly, nearly begging. It’s the first she’s seen of Alice in almost a year and she cannot let her leave as abruptly as she’d shown up. “If you could just give us a minute…” 

“Take two,” the vampire says, and it’s with a half-smile that turns into a smirk. “I’ll go Febreze the living room while I wait: it smells like wet dog.” She turns to leave, a bounce in her step that the other girl can’t help laughing at, shaking her head. 

She sobers up when Jacob turns toward her, takes a step that moves the both of them, so her back is pressed up against the kitchen counter. He looks so serious, and her heart beats for him everywhere. 

“Do you believe her? When she says she came alone?” he asks, and she tilts her head, nods softly. 

“Of course I believe her. She just had to make sure I was okay, that’s all. There’s… there’s nothing for them here.” 

Even as she says the words, she hopes they’re not true—hopes that, even if they really aren’t meant to be together, that she and Edward, she and the Cullens, can still be… Friends isn’t really a strong enough word, but she wants them in her life, potential bloody accidents be damned. 

“So if he came back,” Jacob says, leaning in closer, his lips hovering over hers, “you wouldn’t go to him?” His tone is light, but she understands the weight of his question, takes a moment to find the right words to answer it. 

“If he came back, I’d want to see him. Just like I want to see Alice.” She reaches out to touch him, his warm, bare skin, places her palm over his thumping heart. “But I wouldn’t go to him. Not like this.” 

It’s true, and she wants to say more, to promise him, reassure him, but just after she says it, the landline rings. Jacob sighs, his breath on her cheek, and reaches out a hand to answer it. “Hello?” The person on the other end speaks in a low tone she can’t make out, but she can see the tick in Jacob’s jaw, a hard set to his eyes. “He isn’t here right now, but that’s not who you really want, is it?” 

There’s another moment of conversation she can’t hear, and Alice walks into the room looking stunned; Jacob hands the other girl the receiver, and she looks from him to Alice and then speaks into the phone. “Hello?” 

“You’re alright.” 

It’s Edward, his voice cool and smooth but thick with emotion. It makes butterflies flutter around in her stomach, just like it used to. 

“I’m alright.” She doesn’t give him more than he asks for, doesn’t take more than he offers. She’s aware of two sets of eyes on her, feels more nervous than before, in her oversized t-shirt and sleep-mussed hair.

She’s glad he can’t see her and wonders exactly what that means.

“Good. Rosalie said Alice had a vision…” He trails off, but they both know what he’s not saying: everyone thought she’d given up and killed herself. She crosses her arms.

“The vision was incomplete. I’m fine. Stupid, but fine.” Edward huffs a laugh down the line, and she can imagine the exact cant of his mouth, the glimmer in his eye that always seemed to be reserved for her.

“You are many things, but stupid is not one of them.” There’s more he wants to say, she can tell; as a man of few words, many of their conversations were punctuated with heavy, meaningful silence. Part of her wishes she could see his face, at least. That always helped. “Who answered the phone? Jacob?”

She looks up at him involuntarily, notes the tightness of his mouth, his arms folded in front of his bare chest. 

“Yes, Jacob. He’s the one who pulled me out of the water, the one Alice didn’t see.” 

“Hmm. He still doesn’t seem to like me much.” Her lips turn up at that—understatement of the century—and she wonders if Jake can hear him too. Based on the stoic expression he wears, he either can’t, or he’s not paying attention. 

“No he does not.” A beat passes, then two. “You should call your family more often, go see them. They miss you.” 

“It’s difficult,” he says, swallowing, and she nods at no one. 

“I know, but don’t punish them. Please.” She knows how it feels, to be totally cut off from people she loves, to constantly wonder, always fear the worst; she doesn’t say it because she knows he knows.

“I’ll consider it, if you don’t go jumping off those cliffs any time soon.” She laughs softly, surprised at his humor; this was not how she would have ever anticipated a call like this to go, but she likes it. Likes them, like this. 

“Deal. Alice is looking at me like she’s going to steal the phone any moment,” she warns, which is putting it mildly. “So I’m going to put her on. You can call when it’s not life or death, you know,” she adds quietly. “It would be nice to hear from you. If you ever want to talk.” 

She doesn’t know if he responds, because Alice takes the receiver, winds the cord around her arm, and scolds her brother with love in the way only a sister can manage. 

While they talk, she walks toward Jacob, then past him, toward the staircase, but she takes hold of his hand as she goes, and he follows just like the night before. This time, he closes the bedroom door behind them. 

“I’m sorry this happened like this,” she says, sitting down on the bed, one leg beneath her and the other hanging over the edge. “I’m not sorry Alice is here, but I’m sorry that’s what you woke up to. If you were… worried.” Jacob takes the space next to her atop the rumpled duvet. 

“I was worried when I smelled a bloodsu- vampire,” he corrects quickly, “and you weren’t beside me.”

“I’m sorry,” she says again, this time leaning closer. “But thank you for giving me the phone, letting me talk to him. I’m sure that wasn’t easy.” He shrugs, like it was no big deal, even though she remembers how angry he’d looked at the sound of Edward’s voice. 

“I almost didn’t. I mean, technically, he didn’t ask for you.” She rolls her eyes—definitely guy logic—then stands up, scoops his jeans off the floor and hands them over to him. Her face heats at the memory of removing them in the first place, but she snaps out of that for her own sake and grabs fresh clothes, steps into the bathroom to make herself presentable.

When she’s done, she heads back to her bedroom, where Jacob is now clad in jeans and boots, sitting shirtless on her bed. She deposits the borrowed t-shirt onto his lap, and when he thinks she’s not looking he brings it to his nose, inhales long and slow, before pulling it over his head.

That action does things to her, and she wishes for a moment that she had his senses, so she could smell the two of them the same way he does, their scents deeply saturated and blended together.

They head downstairs when they’re both dressed, and while he rummages in the refrigerator for something to make them for breakfast, she treads into the living room and sits down next to Alice on the couch. 

“So,” Alice says, and then she gestures to a cup of tea. The other girl picks up the mug and thanks her, brings it to her lips. “How long has that been going on?” 

She feels her cheeks heat, and she hides behind another sip of tea. 

“Really? I haven’t seen you in almost a year and that’s what you want to talk about?” 

“Oh, forgive me for being curious about what it’s like to date a werewolf when last I saw you were grieving the loss of my brother.” Alice’s tone is more playful than it would seem, and her eyes smile even if her lips don’t. 

She always knew that Edward wasn’t telling the truth when he said he didn’t want her. He just couldn’t bear it, knowing that being with him put her in so much danger, caused her so much pain. She knew it was worth it, but if he didn’t… there’s nothing she could have done to change his mind, she knows that now. She can’t feel guilty for moving on when it’s exactly what he’d wanted her to do in the first place. 

“Okay, you’re right. Let’s talk about how I’m going to comb the woods, find Victoria, and rip her into confetti for threatening to hurt you.” 

“You don’t have to do that,” Jacob says, walking into the room with… a cup of tea. He looks over at the mug in her hand, then sets the one he brought her down on the table without a word. “The pack’s got it covered.” 

“All due respect, but if the pack had it covered, she wouldn’t be a threat anymore, would she?” Alice tosses over her shoulder. The other girl sets her tea down and sighs. 

“Alright, can we not do this? The age-old vampires versus werewolves thing? Especially if I’m in the middle of it. Maybe you guys could work together for a change; Alice can’t protect this part of the territory all by herself.” She picks up her drink—a drink, the one Jacob made, this time—and takes a long sip, looks up at them over the rim of the mug. 

“The pack could help, if you give us the authority to amend the treaty,” Jacob says to Alice, though he’s kind of looking at the ceiling, his arms crossed. “But wherever she is, I’ll be.” 

“You can’t be with her every second,” Alice counters, and her exasperation makes it  sound like an argument she’s had before. “It’s not good for either of you and could put her in danger; if Victoria picks up on it, she’ll be able to use your scent to track her anywhere. Trust me, yours is a lot stronger than hers is, and it’s all over her.” 

She thinks Jacob makes some kind of noise, like a low growl in the very back of his throat, but it’s hard to hear. Alice raises her eyebrows like she’s trying not to roll her eyes. 

The three of them discuss potential ways to coordinate with the pack, and Alice mentions calling in Emmett and Jasper to see if they could help with the search; the sooner Victoria is gone, the better, is the general consensus, and Jacob thinks he can get Sam on board with that as well, even if it means more Cullens coming back to town. 

She finishes both cups of tea, then a plate of eggs and toast Jacob put together from the bare-bones contents of her kitchen—she reminds herself to make a shopping list, then absently wonders if she’ll have a grand escort to Trader Joe’s. 

“I’ll make some calls while you’re gone,” Alice says as she is taking her last bite; she looks up from her plate, confused, and Alice waves a hand. “I saw a glimpse of you at the grocery store, but then it went dark; I assume that means he’s going with you.”

“I thought about it for a split second, as a joke,” she clarifies with a huff of laughter. “I don’t think I need a bodyguard in the produce aisle at eight AM.”

“Better safe than sorry,” Alice and Jacob say, at the same time, and her lips twitch in amusement. 

Looks like they’re not so different, in the end.

She gives in and allows Jacob to drive her to the supermarket, though not without a long look from Alice as he walks her to the truck with his hand on the small of her back. 

They breeze through the store thanks to the list in her head—she buys a little more than she usually would, because it seems like Jacob plans to be around. She likes the thought of that even more than she’d expected, likes choosing things solely because she knows he’ll enjoy them.

“I think we should talk about last night,” Jacob says, voice low, when they’re nearly back to her house. She cringes internally, because that’s never a sentence a girl wants to hear after a night like that, and he clears his throat. “I know cliff jumping ended up being kind of traumatic for you, and it didn’t feel like it last night, but if I took advantage…”

He looks over at her, his expression pained, and she shifts closer and wraps her hand around his forearm.

“God, no, Jake—that’s not what happened.” He brings the truck to a stop in her driveway, puts it in park, and she presses her palm to his cheek so he’ll focus on her instead of fixing his gaze out the window. “I wanted everything, every moment. I still want it,” she murmurs, and he looks over her face like he’s still not quite sure he believes it.

“You do? Even after… after you spoke to him, and everything?” It’s a fair question, and again, one she answers very carefully.

“I think we needed to talk, he and I, but it didn’t change anything. You’re the one who changed everything,” she admits softly, tentatively, wetting her lips. She hopes her eyes convey the certainty her voice can’t seem to. “Do you want to kiss me?” she breathes, leaning closer, her fingers winding a path through his hair, and he nods his head and presses his mouth to hers. 

She gets up on her knees so she can be closer to him, but she doesn’t climb into his lap like before—she does have some self-restraint, despite what it may seem. She curls one arm around the muscles of his back, pulls him in for more contact with the hand in his hair, and it’s a few minutes later when she remembers they’ve got bags of perishable groceries in the back and a vampire with excellent acoustic abilities just inside her home. 

She pulls back, smiles a little at the soft, unfocused look on his face, then runs her hand down his chest before lifting it away entirely.

“I know we’re kind of at DEFCON 1 right now, but more of that a little later would be nice.” 

“Hmm. Very nice,” he agrees with a nod, his voice slightly rough, and he turns off the ignition and carries all of her groceries into the kitchen with one strong arm. 

Emmett and Jasper do come back, with Rosalie and Esme, to her delight and Jacob’s discomfort. Between the pack, who comes to get the vampires’ scents so there’s no friendly fire, and the family, who split time between her house and the one they left behind, the place is a revolving door of the supernatural for the next few days. 

All of them take turns watching over her house at night, while the others patrol the woods. She catches up with everyone she’s been separated from—even Jasper gives her a crushing hug, so at least the time away was good for something—and it’s wonderful, but it means there’s not much time to be with Jacob aside from planning sessions and the occasional quick check in. The most time she spends with him is when they attend Harry’s funeral, something somber and intimate, with ethereal music and a glowing campfire and endless stories about the Clearwater line. 

She is introduced to Leah and Seth, Harry’s children, and while Seth seems welcoming and friendly his sister is cold, standoffish—though not without reason, she soon learns from the pack. 

“She’s not always like that… mostly just when she’s around Sam,” Embry says where they stand on the edge of the forest, away from the thick smoke that burns her very human eyes. She looks over at the pack leader at the mention of his name. “Now that she’s part of the pack, we have to live the Leah/Sam/Emily painfest all over again.” 

She turns back to him, to Quil, who’s standing beside him, and tilts her head, curious.

“I don’t think I follow—Sam left Leah for Emily?”

“Well, yeah, but it’s not what you think. He hates himself for hurting her, but he couldn’t help it. Emily was ‘the one.’” Quil says it almost sarcastically, with air quotes for emphasis, and she frowns.

“The one?” She doesn’t mean to sound skeptical, but these days she’s not as big a fan of providence and destiny as she used to be.

“Sam imprinted on Emily. It’s kind of like… soulmates, but bigger. Cosmic. They were literally meant to be together.”

“Like fate,” she says, filling in that blank, and then a large, warm hand is splayed across her back, fingertips pressing into the fabric of her dress. 

“We make our own fate around here,” Jacob says tightly, and she looks up, regards him curiously. He’s not just upset about Harry, or Victoria… there’s got to be something else making his jaw tense, his eyes hard. “And I think that’s more than enough of the pack soap opera for tonight. Are you ready to go home?” 

He turns his gaze to her, and it softens, for which she is grateful; he is her guardian on duty tonight, and despite the solemn evening—or maybe because of it—she wants to spend the night as close to him as she possibly can.

She nods, and after they say their goodbyes he walks her to the truck, opens the door for her, closing it carefully when she’s safely inside. He takes the spot behind the driver’s seat—his usual, now—but doesn’t drive straight to her house like she expects. 

“Ice cream?” she asks when he turns off the engine outside of a mom and pop shop selling sundaes, cones, and shakes. She exits the car at his indication, and the two of them walk hand in hand up to the illuminated window that says Order Here. An older couple is ahead of them, pointing at the chalk menu board, and Jacob leans in to speak in a hushed tone. 

“This place was Harry’s favorite. You like chocolate, right?” 

“Has anyone ever answered ‘no’ to that question?” she asks softly, playfully, and it works as intended, lightens the mood just enough to bring a brilliant smile to his painfully beautiful face. “I think this is a wonderful way to remember him, Jake.” She wraps a comforting arm around his, and Jacob nods, lips pressed together, eyes sad.

“Just kind of feels right.” 

He orders for them when it’s their turn, two waffle cones with two scoops of chocolate ice cream each, and they sit at a picnic table on the side of the building, eating their tributes with heavy hearts and looking up at the stars.

The ride home is quiet, contemplative, at least for her; by the time they arrive she has been running through thoughts of mortality, finality, how short life is and how very precious. 

These are all normal thoughts for a person to have, and certainly after a celebration of life like the one on the reservation tonight, but she thinks seriously for the first time about Jacob and his desperate need to protect her, the way he puts himself in danger—stupidly, recklessly, completely—every day to keep her safe.

When they’ve made it inside, she exhales deeply, looks up into earnest, curious eyes, and wraps her arms around him, presses close so she can bury her nose in his clothing.

She breathes him in long and slow, his usual scent of crisp air and rain and oak dulled by the smoke of the bonfire, and then his hands are in her hair, tipping her face up for a decadent, passionate kiss. 

God, how is he so good at this? she thinks as he sips at her lips, glides his own down the tender line of her throat. She sighs and grabs for his arms, something to ground her as her desire threatens to take over, to leave her a whimpering, begging mess beneath his hands. 

Jacob turns them so she’s got her back to the kitchen table, sets her on top of it, and she parts her knees for him, pulls him closer. Her fingers itch with the need to touch his skin, so she tugs at the hem of his shirt and gets her hands beneath it, skims them over the taut muscles of his bare back. 

“I can take it off,” he murmurs against her neck, and she nods breathlessly and helps him pull it over his head. His hands bracket her hips, palms flat on the table, and her arms curve up around his back, bringing him closer; she kisses him eagerly anywhere she can reach—his throat, shoulders, face, everywhere.

She whispers his name into his own skin, presses her lips to his biceps, scrapes her teeth over the lobe of his ear, and he shudders at her touch, tilts his head to look up at her, his eyes dark and almost… dangerous.

What does it say about her, that she finds that look so goddamn attractive?

“I’m sorry, I—I need a minute,” he says, panting through gritted teeth, and she lets her hands fall away, leaning back a little to give him space to breathe.

“Take all the time you need,” she assures him calmly, patiently. It’s the first time she’s ever seen his wolf so close to the surface, and she’s completely unafraid, would hold him and help him ride out the tension in his body if she thought he would let her. “It’s just us, Jake, just me and you.” 

“Just us,” he repeats, his fists clenching and unclenching, taking a long breath with his eyes closed. She breathes with him, has always found that helpful when she herself is overwhelmed, and after a few moments he presses closer and she runs a soothing hand over his chest. “I’m okay,” he says eventually, leaning in slowly for a kiss as though he’s afraid it will be rejected. She brings her hands to his face, deepens it, so it’s still soft and easy but with enough meaning behind it to convey her thoughts. 

“I know,” she murmurs, just to be certain he believes her. “You did so good; so good, Jake.” He nods, pulls back a little so he can look into her eyes. 

“It’s not that I can’t control it, I can, but…” He looks away for a moment, swipes his tongue over his lips. “The instincts are so strong and I don’t always want to fight them. Sometimes when I’m with you, I want to let the wolf win.” He says it like he’s ashamed, and she puts her arm around his shoulders and brings him down for another kiss, this one just a gentle press of mouths.

“I understand that more than you think I do.” His breath on her lips makes her crave more of his heat, but she knows it has to be slow now, or he’ll get too in his head and never let himself enjoy their night together. “I may not be supernaturally inclined, but sometimes making decisions with my body is all I want to do. Especially with you,” she adds, just a sigh between them, then touches their foreheads together. 

They stay like that for a moment, embracing in their own way, until he initiates a kiss that is so thorough it makes her toes curl. She brings her hands to his waist, guides him closer, and he rests a broad palm at the base of her throat and kisses her, again, and again, and again. 

Her arms curl around his body the second they separate for air, and he lifts her from the table, carries her up the stairs with an ease that makes her long for more frequent displays of his strength. 

Getting his clothes off is quick enough, since he’s already shirtless, and his hands are tender and gentle as he sweeps her hair away from her neck, pulls down the zipper of her dress, slides it off her bare shoulders. 

Neither of them bother to pull back the covers, simply lay back on the bed, her knees apart again, Jacob hovering between them and letting his eyes move over her like he’s committing her body to memory. It makes a wave of heat rush through her, and since tonight is less hurried she does the same, lingers over every curve of muscle, every sharp line of bone. He leans in, lays an arm behind her head, glides his lips over her jaw, her cheek, her mouth.

“I was right, before,” she says after another satisfying kiss, letting her fingers press into the flesh of his hips. He looks into her eyes, tilts his head curiously, and she smiles a little, can’t help herself. “You really are beautiful.” 

Jake breathes a laugh, even blushes a little, then kisses her until they’re both panting; her fingertips press harder when he pushes inside, then glide up his back to keep him close while the two of them move together. 

Jacob feels so different this way, is so much deeper, filling her in a way that makes it so she really can’t tell where she ends and he begins. He is heavy on top of her, but not uncomfortably so, and when her body shifts up the bed with every thrust it’s thrilling, incredible—she’s never felt so much in her life.

His face is serious, eyes focused, and she weaves her fingers into his hair and catches his lips in a kiss, moans into the end of it when he finds a spot inside of her that takes her breath away. 

“Oh, god, Jake.” He leans in for another kiss, deep and wet, nods against her lips. 

“You’re perfect—so perfect,” he huffs, breathless; he moves his hand to her hip, runs it over her stomach, then presses his palms to the bed and repeats his previous motion, over and over, her body coiling tight with pleasure. “Can’t believe I get this.” 

“We get this,” she corrects in a whisper, won’t let him think for one second that she’s not as completely in awe of him as he seems to be of her. She skims her nails over his lower back, his ass, tightens her thighs on either side of him and tips her head back just as he makes her come. “Don’t stop, Jake, please,” she whines, shaking, holding him so tightly with her entire body—she never wants it to end, never wants to be separated from him again, and he agrees, if the way his body presses down on hers is any indication. 

“Can’t stop… need you,” he groans, pushing her leg up further, so he feels almost impossibly thick and deep. Her arms wrap around his back, pulling him closer, holding him there as he ruts into her, scorching flesh pressed against flesh. 

“Yes, oh—”

Before she knows it she’s quaking again, gasping when he brings his teeth to her throat, scrapes them over her throbbing pulse. He growls in her ear, a deep, low, animalistic rumble she can feel in her stomach, then comes inside, claiming her with a broken, raspy, “mine.”

He lays half on top of her, half on the bed, after, their skin soft and damp with cooling sweat. She can’t stop looking at his face, his dark eyes, sharp jaw, and he cups her cheek with a gentle palm and gazes just as intently at her. 

“Come here,” she murmurs, a soft smile on her lips, and he kisses her slowly, makes her sigh with a pleasure so complete—mentally, physically, spiritually—it feels like she’ll never be the same. 

He gets up after a moment, comes back with a glass of water and a towel, and helps her clean up well enough to hold her over until she’s ready to get out of bed. She pulls the covers back while he’s gone, slides in between the cool sheets, and he follows her lead, pressing close to her beneath them.

“Are you upset you didn’t imprint on me?” she asks carefully, propping herself up on her elbow and using the other hand to run fingers through his hair. “I noticed that when the guys were talking about it, you got kind of tense.” He shrugs slightly before shaking his head.

“No, not upset… I was just so sure you were meant for me; I really thought it would happen sooner or later.” She understands that, can picture him wishing and waiting for something that would never come to pass. So patient, her Jacob.

“Do you wish it had? Do you think it would make this more real?” Her hand moves from his hair to his collarbone, down his chest, over his stomach, so very low. “Because when I’m touching you like this… nothing has ever felt so real.” 

He presses her against the bed, hovers over her, kisses her breathless, and it goes without saying that he agrees with every word she says. She softens beneath him, tired and pleased, and he shifts into a more comfortable position, laying behind her, that she knows means sleep for the both of them. He drapes an arm over her, and she draws circles into his skin with her fingertips, feels his warm breath on her neck, closes her eyes and revels in the weight of him at her back.

“Anyway,” she whispers, one last thought on her mind before she succumbs to sleep, “I almost think it’s better like this, that we have to fight for each other. No help from fate—just your will and mine.”

A/N: I got my start in fandom spaces by writing Twilight fanfic fifteen years ago, but I never posted it because it was... bad. Last week was a crummy week for me, so I found comfort in watching New Moon, and I literally couldn't help myself from re-writing it in Jacob's favor. There's no Edward hate here, and he'll play a bigger role in the next part I have planned, but Jake took hold of me in this one and didn't let go.

[star-trek-fandom-confessions]

#1136

I'm a multishipper and I always think it's funny when two ships that are "in opposition" of each other have the same exact argument for something. For example I ship both Spock/La'an and Kirk/La'an and one thing I've noticed is both ships use parallels to Pike and Una in the sense of if Pike and Una then Spock or Kirk and La'an because La'an is to Una what Spock or Kirk are to Pike therefore if you ship PikeUna you should ship Spock/La'an or Kirk/La'an. I'm not sure the shippers of these two groups know they used the same arguments and story beats but they do and it's amusing. Another is Spaple, Uhotty and Spuhura (all of which I also ship) all like to call back to implications from TOS to validate their ships over the others because Spock and Uhura flirt, Chaple had a long standing crush on Spock and Uhura and Scotty were implied to be really close in the movies but when all three do it, it kind of becomes meaningless like "yeah, yeah, the TOS validation, we've all seen it". It's just a fun pattern to watch at least when it doesn't get messy (and sometimes when it does because they'll say the exact same thing like it proved something and then the other will argue back like it did).

[cupidjyu]

hi!! could you write about hyunjae falling out of love with reader and falls inlove with someone new while reader is in shambles super angst lawd

see you around

hyunjae x reader (request)

genre: angst, no comfort, falling out love, jeez notes: apologies, i don't have the most experience with angst TT but this was fun either way to write...! also anon are you like. okay. word count: 0.9k

“i’m sorry.”

“are you?” you gazed at him with aching pain. 

“i am. i’m really sorry,” hyunjae hung his head low. he sniffed and you could see the hint of his red-rimmed eyes. 

“i don’t believe you,” your voice stung through the quiet room. it was the same room that held all of your memories with hyunjae. the cuddling in bed together, the laughing at comedy movies together… the kissing when it was just the two of you. “after all this time, all it takes is for someone else to buy you a meal?”

it started with the distance: the late replies to texts, the last-minute canceling on dates, and the fake smile when you would tell jokes. at first, you brushed it off as him being tired from his work. but it became more and more evident that wasn’t the case. it ended with hints that got more obvious as time passed: the pushing away when you tried to peck his lips and the ever-growing space between you and him when sleeping in bed.

“that’s all it took for you to leave me?” you choked. “for you– for you to fall out of love with me?”

“yes, i know,” he pleaded. he reached for your arm as a way to console you but you harshly pulled your hand away. “i can’t be sorry enough. it’s wrong of me but i– i can’t hold the truth in any longer.” he heaved out a deep sigh. “you know me. i don’t like to lie.”

“i do know you. yet you still decide to leave me,” your voice shook with anger. “and i wish that you would have continued to lie to me.”

“do you really wish for that?”

“yes,” you stubbornly replied. you wanted him to keep on lying so that you wouldn’t have to believe that any of this was true. you hoped that it would all be a dream; that the long time you spent together doesn’t just go to waste.

“so you would be okay that i show you completely, fake love?” he furrowed his eyebrows, his voice rising.  “that everything i do from here on out would be meaningless? would you be completely fine with that?”

you froze, your heart dropping to the floor. you were unsure of what to say.

“i… i don’t know.”

“then you don’t wish for it,” he calmly spoke. “sometimes, relationships were never meant to be,” he pinched the area between his eyebrows. “and this relationship isn’t working. please don’t try to make it work.”

tears welled up in your eyes. he turned his back to you, already heading for the door, ready to leave you behind and all your memories together. the smiles, the laughter, and the joy. 

“hyunjae,” you whispered, just barely able to be heard.

he stopped, turning to you, almost regretfully.

“i’ll always love you.”

he stared at you, trying to decipher your words. his eyes drooped with sorrow. he knows that he can’t say “i love you back”.

“i’ll remember you,” is all that he could say back. those three words ignited a harsh fire in your heart as he opened the door slowly.

“i’ll see you around,” you whispered. he looked at you one last time before nodding, wordlessly. when he left, you grabbed a nearby book and threw it at the door as you fell to the floor, heaving sob after sob.

-

after a few months, you were still healing. but, day by day, you feel just a bit better. you no longer cry every day. maybe, just once a week. at this point, you just felt numb. you still find yourself looking at the photo booth pictures that you kept or the selfies where you two were kissing. you sighed.

you missed him. but it would be useless to try to get him back. that was when you heard the entrance door open at the place you were currently shopping at. you caught the familiar sight of him. he was holding hands with the person that you felt a one-sided hatred towards, the person that you always found yourself comparing yourself to, wondering what you were missing.

you quickly averted your eyes, turning around.

that was until you felt a gentle hand on your shoulder. you startled, whipping around. of course, it was him.

he was smiling now, tilting his head. but behind his kind expression, you could see the pity lying there. his eyes were soft, not from love or affection, but from sadness.

“hi,” he greeted, standing awkwardly.

“hyunjae,” you breathed out, feeling your heart pound. 

“i was wondering how you were doing,” he asked, smiling slightly. at least, he seemed okay. but what could you say? should you tell the truth? the truth that you still think about him to this day and some nights, you would cry yourself to sleep, wishing that he would hold you in his arms?

but instead, you opted for, “i’m fine.”

“that’s good,” he nodded. he looked like he wanted to say more so you waited. “do you want to… you know,” he stammered. “be friends again?”

you froze, looking up at him slowly.

“i miss your jokes sometimes, that’s all,” he laughed awkwardly. you were silent for a bit. you so badly wanted to say yes. you wanted to spend time with him again and stare at his beautiful face like you used to. but you knew that if you said yes, you would be hurt all over again.

"i'm sure you have someone else to hear jokes from," you spoke, your voice shaking slightly. 

he rushed to reply but you were quick to interrupt him, grabbing your bag and looking at him still with love.

"i hope i don't see you around anymore, hyunjae."

[qrttt-takk]

Postal Doe x F!Reader HC's

(I fell in love with her from the moment I saw a poostall royale playthrough, she's like a smelly ferret to me (⁠*⁠˘⁠︶⁠˘⁠*⁠)⁠.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡)

🏷️: SFW & NSFW, Established relationship, Just really deranged topics...

SFW

-Doe is really protective of you, she won't outwardly show it though but you can definitely catch it through her actions (having her arm around you, giving everyone else but you a mean look, ECT)

-She's gross. Super gross. If you're with her you're either gross too or into it. Doe can go like maybe 1 week and a half without a shower, realistically she would only shower more frequently to impress you

-She watches LiveLeak videos for fun and also has a shit ton of gory movies on DVD, if you're into that then she'll always invite you to her trailer to watch some but if you aren't she's cool with watching normal stuff or movies at the nearby theatre

-Doe has the shittiest diet known to earth, if you get with her you'll probably feel real bad and start cooking her homemade meals, a major upgrade from her dollar store tv meals (she thanks you in many ways)

-She likes to sleep a lot, longer than you at least, it gives you the opportunity to tidy up her place and maybe do her laundry. Doe has a knack to neglect herself but you do try convincing her not to.

-Despite being pretty deranged, Doe actually has really decent advice if you're struggling through something. She takes both logic and emotion into consideration and does try supporting you and your decisions

She encourages you if you're prone to have self-esteem issues, she tells you just how wonderful and amazing you are and how she's lucky to have someone like you

-Super big on pet names, she calls you a bunch of random things but her main ones are, "Sweetheart", "Darling", "My Girl"

-She likes showing off her dumb arm tattoo thinking it makes her 10x more badass and cool (it does not)

-Doe has really light green eyes, she's kinda insecure about them so that's why she always wears her signature sunglasses. When she has them off she's always squinting and darting her eyes around, not even trying to make eye contact

-She's a smartass, and pretty sarcastic. Sometimes you can't tell if she's fucking with you or not so 70% you're taking her bait, by the time you figure out her deal you've already spiraled into a dumb meaningless argument,

"You know, sometimes we shouldn't take things for granite"

"...You mean granted?"

"What? What are you talking about I know what I said"

-Something so god awful and traumatizing can happen to her and she'll chalk it up as "just not a good day", Doe frequently comes over to your place with a shit ton of questionable bruises and wounds, you patch her up distraught but she kisses you and strokes your hair telling you not to worry

-She likes popping all your hand and toe joints despite how much it hurts, it's a bonding activity

-Play wrestling with you all the time, either at her trailer or your apartment the bed is gonna need to be refitted, you always get your ass put in a headlock but you're not a sore loser. Afterwards you always tell her she needs to get on WWE ᕙ⁠(⁠ ⁠:⁠ ⁠˘⁠ ⁠∧⁠ ⁠˘⁠ ⁠:⁠ ⁠)⁠ᕗ

-She loves pickles on her burgers, if you hate them and make it known sometimes she eats like 5 of them at once and french kisses you with the pickle flavor on her tongue, it makes you gag so bad but she cackles like it's the funniest thing ever. If you do love pickles though then she gives most of hers to you (she's such a good gf)

-Doe is definitely taller than you, her boots just add more to her ridiculous height, she likes to carry you and give you piggyback rides...it's fun until she trips and lands face first on the floor with you (⁠´⁠°̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥⁠ω⁠°̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥⁠｀⁠)

-When you tell her she kinda looks like that one chick from resident evil she either has passionate sex with you or beats you to a bloody pulp no in between (she's crazy)

NSFW

-Doe is definitely into public humiliation, she'll touch you whenever she wants wherever... your reactions and sounds are really cute to her and she'd want to elicit more from you. One day she gets you to wear vibrating panties, it was probably one of the most exciting days of your life

-Shes willing to kill anyone you want gone, of course she wouldn't go crazy or anything but if there's a coworker at your job you've been complaining about for ages she'll ask you if you want them to "disappear" for good. You're well aware that this woman needs to be in an institution but it just makes her sexier

-Doe has a good gun collection, and a gun kink. If you're into it and down to try she'll fuck you with the barrel of her favorite handgun, threatening to pull the trigger and make a fucking mess that you'll be alive long enough to feel and witness

-She's down to try anything. Like, anything. If you have a kink you want to do 9 times out of 10 she's willing to try it out, anything for her sweetheart

-Piss kink. Did you seriously expect any less? The 3rd time she went down on you it was crazy, you begged her that you had to go to the bathroom but it just encouraged her to hold you down by the thighs and coax the piss out of your overstimulated cunt, she made sure not to spill a drop as you bucked and whined against her relentless mouth

-Doe has way too many toys, some you're pretty sure you haven't seen ever in your life... she'd rather blow her paycheck on something crazy she found on Reddit rather than groceries (you give her a bunch of shit once you find out)

ฅ⁠^⁠•⁠ﻌ⁠•⁠^⁠ฅ ฅ⁠^⁠•⁠ﻌ⁠•⁠^⁠ฅ

Hope you guys enjoyed, not enough people make content about this crazy doe...she deserves love too (⁠人⁠*⁠´⁠∀⁠｀⁠)⁠｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+ .... Definitely not done with her, planning to make an X reader drabble eventually

[halucynator]

Hellllooo,

Omg I really needed more swiftie mutuals <3

Please rant about all things you like, i love rants, gosh we seem to have so many close interests, I am not a writer tho, but I do read, effectively making me a reader which doesn't sound as cool, now that I think about it.

My fav Taylor song at the moment is "Slut!". I cannot get that out of my head. I mean "got lovesick all over my bed", I die a little everytime I hear that.

Fav Olivia song at the moment is logical (kinda like you username aah). I still CANNOT get over "can't take a joke, can't get you off". Like please kill me already.

Fav Sabrina song at the moment is probably "because i liked a boy". (damn who hurt me?)

And fav conan song at the moment, "Lookalike"

Tell me yours?

Nyc.

xx

hiiii

omg thank you thank you thank youuuu <33

okay so i love a lot of things some of them are pretty questionable but I'm questionable literally ask anyone on the discord server so its fine. anywhoo, i love taylor, maisie, gracie, phoebe, alix page, lucy (dacus not myself I'm not THAT narcissistic), olivia hardy (from wasia project) julien, conan, liv, sab (and @loserdiaz but that's a known fact) and so many other people to the point that even i cant keep track. oh and i love laufey, mitski and lyn lapid just bc.

my current fav by wasia project is petals on the moon but ur so pretty especially live from the studio is so gooddd

anywayss, reading is really cool thats how i got into writing (which is the best thing ever ik /hj) i also really really like reading bc it makes me smart and it's super fun

which is your favourite book series?? mine is lockwood and co as if you couldn't already tell by the amount of times I've mentioned it i also really love agggtm series bc why wouldn't it its so good. I'm sure i love so many more book series but my memory sucks (it does not but I'm lazy so I'll use that as an excuse)

anywhooo, i love scream which is weird bc i watched the first one when i was 10 (i know, who let me do that???) and i... liked it? (I'm very questionable i know) but i also tend to rant about it as if its real life (like WHY DID THEY KILL OF *insert name of dead character* IM SO MAD) and not a movie so I'm a bit annoying sometimes but pls don't tell me that otherwise I'll start crying /j

hmm my favourite taylor song atm would be "is it over now?" or "now that we don't talk" bc at the moment i resonate so well with those songs (ikr my life sounds like a nightmare: it is but it isn't really? idk) at yes i totally agree with the "got lovesick all over my bed statement but" also "love thorns all over this rose" and omg "you're not saying you're in love with me, BUT !! YOURE !! GONNA !! DO !!" like who gave taylor the right to be such a mastermind (funny, right? no? okay.) like the entire song, heck the entire album is so GOOD. HER ENTIRE DISCOGRAPHY IS SO GOOD. (this is totally normal fan behaviour btw)

favourite liv song atm is probably lacy but i love all of the songs all the album (and yes logical is soooo good i mean i have to love it otherwise my url is meaningless) but my favourite lyric from the entire album is probably "we both drew blood but man THOSE CUTS were NEVER EQUAL!!" from the grudge (also one of my top 3) bc that hits DEEP. (bc the cuts were deep, i know I'm so funny /j)

favourite sab song atm is prolly cindy lou who / opposite (been there) / a nonsense christmas. i cheated but i simply cant choose one shes too good. also super funny bc cindy lou who and opposite are like sad vibes and then a nonsense christmas i want you to [redacted] and [redacted] me on the couch while we [redacted] presents (sorry i just think I'm so funny when I'm not but dont tell me that i wanna be a stand up comedian no I'm just kidding I'm not a failure. IM JOKING) (also regarding bc i liked a boy, I agree. who hurt you???)

anyways, my favourite conan song atm is prolly the best known option "heather" BUT i also like "the cut that always bleeds" the entire of kid krow tbh

okay i wrote a lot asdxcasdcvafd sorry

alsooo, you didnt ask this but my favourite gracie abrams song atm is "where do we go now?" and "cedar" (you arent mine) bc its such a heartbreaking song especially when you can relate to it. ooh and i also love camden, painkillers, rockland and long sleeves but they're all pretty depressing so if you don't like sad songs they're prolly not for you.

and THANK YOU for this ask this was so fun send me more sometimes <333

[navnae]

Steddie First Date

Prompt from @ilovecupcakesandtea !!! ❤️

Thank you for sending in this idea and I hope you’ll enjoy it :)

-

When Eddie envisioned his first date with Steve he wanted to be different. Not the typical movie date where you stare at screen for half an hour and avoid having a conversation. Eddie wanted their first date to be unforgettable and not meaningless, that’s why he signed them up for a couples dance class. It was way out of the box for both of them and that’s exactly why Eddie picked it. During the drive Eddie could tell that Steve was nervous about the whole thing, Eddie took Steve’s hand into his hand then squeezed it lightly. A soft smile appearing on his face as he glanced over at Steve. The nerves he felt slowly started to go away because of Eddie being with him. After arriving to the place they went inside and they joined the other couples that were already there. The instructor went into detail about what the class would be asking for from all of the couples, laying down the rules that everyone is supposed to follow. As the class went on Steve and Eddie giggling messes while they held each other close while stumbling over each other’s feet. Eddie mentally gave himself a pat in the back for being able to see this side of Steve that no one else has seen. His smile widened every time Eddie took his hand and gave him a spin. Sometimes Eddie would dip Steve unexpectedly making him blush in the process but he loved every second of it.

“I feel like a princess.” Steve joked. Eddie laughed as he took Steve’s hand and held it. Their fingers interlocked, Eddie kept his other hand in Steve’s waist and they created this rhythm while swaying slowly.

“That’s because you are one, my little princess.” Eddie said with a smirk on his fast. Steve playfully hit Eddie’s shoulder. His cheeks turned a light shade of pink.

“You’re such a flirt,” Steve said in the middle of a laugh, “Thank you for setting this up. I didn’t think I would have this much fun.”

“You’re welcome. I wanted to do something that wasn’t sitting in a seat for an hour and we barely get to do anything. Doing this instead allows us to connect on a personal level, I know this might sound cheesy but I really like you Steve. I don’t know if that was obvious or not.” Eddie laughed when Steve sarcastically shook his head.

“Really? I had no idea.” Steve said with a fake shocked expression on his face. Both of them laughed in unison before leaning in to make their lips connect. The kiss was short and sweet making both of them smile in between in it. “I really like you too.” Steve whispered against Eddie’s lips.

For the remainder of the class Steve and Eddie were in their own little world as they continued to dance. Afterwards Eddie took them to a nearby diner and they ordered a hefty meal that included, burgers, fries, and whatever Steve wanted honestly. Steve was taken aback when Eddie encouraged him to get whatever his heart desired, he’s never had someone pay for him on a date before and he didn’t take it for granted either. Steve ordered a milkshake for him and Eddie to share, they put two straws in it so both of them could drink it at the same time. They enjoyed each other’s company throughout the entire day and the finished their evening with a nice walk along lovers lake while holding hands. Underneath the moonlight they shared a kiss with their arms wrapped around each other, Eddie held Steve close not wanting to let him close as they kissed passionately. When they pulled away laughter filled the air and loving words were shared between the two. Steve has been on many date but none of them compared to what Eddie have done, it’s safe to say Eddie went around town bragging about how he was at the top of Steve’s list for the best date.

-

I know it was little short but I wanted to try something different for this concept.

[cacaitos]

2023 manga list:

most of the manga i read this year. more or less around 90, but that's also counting short stories, and things i omitted.

bottom text.

beastars/beast complex [3/5] beastars as an action shonen (or a story anyway) is all over the place so don't get your hopes up to much on that front. beastars' main consistent strong point is being Horny and Weird. i've said that sometimes it doesnt compromise with the logical terms of its premise but exploring a variety of odd relationships is imo the most interesting and engaging element of it anyway.

chainsaw man [4/5] overall is a mostly normal shonen if you were expecting for something more alternative. to be honest a lot how you would feel about Pt 1 will be told by how you feel about having very consecutive character deaths, it can feel a bit rushed. but it is indeed a bit distinctive abt how it tackles the topic of intimacy/relationships esp predatory ones in jump-type shonen. can't complain too much on that front. fire punch [3/5] once the berserk-type edgyness aside on the story is aptly entertaining, tho by some stretches it can be disorienting plotwise, in a negative way. it drops Lots of plot points or rushes them... you can really grow to like some characters but there will be a point -you will know- that it just kinda disengages w you. Curious existential ending. good if you're bored.

golden kamuy [3.5/5] also more typical shonen-esque than i expected. it never gets That Much Dark imo, as in total slow downers i mean. although obviously it is 'dark' more on the bizzare part. fun characters.

kaze to ki no uta [4/5] to be honest it does live up to the reputation of making you generally emotionally Unwell. but on my experience the development of gilbert and serge grew more engaging than I expected. tragic banger. terra e... [3/5] also was more than i expected since the one time i tried with the anime i got bored 1 ep in. but the story and tomy as the mc also gave me more heartfelt emotions than I expected. the pacing and amount info conveyed can get exhausting tho. didn't care much abt the ending. natsu e no tobira [2/5] the ova is gorgeous so it has those points on its favour. otherwise the ova and the manga are almost identical. youth and death themes and all i did Nawt care abt that pedo woman. weird story to develop that shoujo theme abt allowing ppl to see your vulnerability but eh i'll take it.

YAMAMOTO: ichi the killer [3.5/5] frenetic and entertaining enough if you're willing to go through knowing the tw's. suprisingly fast to read. if you're looking for the yamamoto Experience, it's a must after hommunculus. voyeur/voyeurs inc [2/5] got awfully disappointed w voyeurs-inc; i got hooked on voyeur (ie the prototype) but the change of cast on inc was a total letdown. don't think it's worth reading of you're a ymmt casual. maybe just the prototype. okama report [0/5] don't even fucking bother. barely passable even for anybody that's very into ymmt. adam & eve [2/5] shit story, curious fights/interactions.

KATSUHIRO OTOMO akira [3/5] a lot of the military and persecution sequences get so annoying and boring sometimes but if you forget abt the adaptations it's a decent enough scifi-action thing. the movie is better at that. the relationship between kaneda and tetsuo- dont like rn to pit which of the two did it better, but from the movie to the manga it's deff not a letdown, especially for tetsuo that has a lot more time. he's interesting. domu [2.5/5] interesting action wise, but as for story I wouldn't bother. kanojo no omoide (memories of her) [3/5] ootomo himself said some of the stories are quite meaningless and nonsensical lol but if you've seen the Magnetic Rose ova you will like some of them. world apartment horror [3/5] 1st didn't care about. liked 2nd. 3rd i didn't get shit. 4th it was cute. visitors [3/5] liked it. short piece/short peace [3/5] i liked it. highway star [3/5] feels like that suicide episode of paranoia agent, that kind of humor lol. boogie wogie waltz [1/5] uncomprehensible. good weather [1/5] eh.

houseki no kuni [4/5] it isn't getting better, the tragedy doesn't stop it's not an understatement. whoa.

dorohedoro [3/5] entertaining seinen, tho sometimes it gets kinda confusing and convoluted. love the characters theyre fun :)

ajin [4/5]

i was surprised that it was a closed off story from what i expected coming from the anime haha. neat action panelling and art. I get the feel that some characters had more to give and develop, but not disappointing.

OSHIMI SHUZO flowers of evil [3/5] the romantic triangle didnt bother me as much as i expected. it is a weird manga know that up front. i'm inside mari [4/5] i quite liked it and was quite surprised abt that fact lol. blood on the tracks [4/5] good family drama at leaston my year'sranking; shuzo's art style does wonders and is v immersive. some said that it felt repetitive and while i can say at some point the went a bit ehhhh, but reading it all back to back instead of weekly i don't feel it's that draggy. backwards i think it could've used more chapters, or content rather. happiness [2.5/5] tbh got disappointed, kinda disperse. like half 1 and 2 don't have much to do... okaeri alice [2.5/5] some individual characters really do make the manga endurable but some bits from the main characters are so...? unnecessary, or unnecessarily long at least. not really shuzo's best work. avant-garde yumeko [-/5] odd.

NAGABE totsukuni no shoujo [4.5/5] i mean, for most of it that i can describe it well with heartwarming but bittersweet, about parent-child relationships, love, loneliness, sacrifice, it's pretty good at that. then It Gets You. monotone blue [4/5] refreshing bl, sweet, the art delivers and the sensitivity. and i say refreshing bl bc it's not weird abt sa or adjacent harrassment.

i read most of his shoujo works, but they're too many to mention if you liked totsukuni you will like them, nothing to lose. some uh moral objections on some..EAT [-/5] it's okay. if you don't mind horny furries. SMELL [-/5] errr..... ok.

RYO SUMIYOSHI/SUZURI MADK [2.5/5] good art as always. more fucked up background things as it goes on but the mako-J thing is kinda crayzay. it has some hasty character developments at important times... torso no bokura [2/5] also good art, nothing too upsetting if at least relative to MADK. kinda enjoyable and entertaining anthology.

NEMUI ASADA sleeping dead [3/5] imo asada's overall best work, or at least to beginners or if you plan to read just one of hers. since the translation of the work is not finished i don't wanna assume the ending, but the starting premise is interesting enough, although we're currently on a less eventful note plotwise which can feel a bit disappointing for the moment. my little inferno [1.5/5] not particularly interesting conceptually, or writing. madara moyou no yoi [1.5/5] noticeable premise for an asada work, it being more action oriented i mean, but it's still to early to say in execution. SKIN [1/5] what the hell. that's asada for everybody/ dear, my god [1/5] odd ending. didn't coincide with how the story was handling at least the preist, imo. i literally don't care about the cactus story. CALL [2/5] surprisingly not so harsh of an asada story. more of a normal kind of depressing bl. ai, sei [1/5] don't mind in any particular direction. loved circle [1/5] did not care for the setting. not as dark as you would expect but not particularly interesting either. whatever ending. to the sea [1/5] ...? that happened i guess.

hikaru ga shinda natsu [3.5/5] it's a manga that has earned a reputation and a set of expectations that (i haven't caught up w latest ch) that delivers on the visual and effective ambientation, but we're to see on the story but good so far.

double (noda ayako) [4/5] veeery expressive art from noda. if you let it be as a normal acting manga it can get you by surprise on some emotional beats. better go in with low expectations, different tastes and all.

my broken mariko [3.5/5] it's a short story, solid. gorg art that adds to the sorrow and bittersweetness.

gunjou [3.5/5] hmmm it can feel a bit repetitive the back and forth at several points of the story, depends of how you read that related to unstable relationships. i don't necessarily want to brand it mainly as a GL but all in all its still one of the most interesting entries on it, with a toxic relationship that commits to the complexity of the situation.

gunjou gakusho [2.5/5] a melancholic anthology with beautiful art. i got to like a pair of the stories.

omoide emanon/sasurai emanon [3/5] personally i preferred omoide emanon (the one the mangaka said was Twitter for people unfamiliar w emanon) and i prefer the lineal story tbh. sasurai ones can be hit or miss, some feel incomplete? or unconcluded. i mean sasurai was cancelled midway so.

bibliomania [2/5] cool art, intriguing initial premise and execution, but i didn't find it particularly interesting by the end part, like thematically.

banana bread no pudding [2/5] didn't care for the main relationship itself, but the protagonist ended up being more engaging than i expected. a mostly soft and bittersweet read, but i would wait ot read more of the author's works to say how recommendable i would rank it as.

petshop of horrors [2.5/5] the individual stories can be hit ot miss from one person to another but imo D is very consistently entertaining and likeable lol.

higashi nishida [2.5/5] not much consistency but they have a nice undertsated feeling personally :). some of its introspection catches you off guard. no high expectations though.

kodomo wa wakette agenai [3/5] it's a nice short story, it's funny if you don't come in expecting loud knee-slappers types of jokes. it's good if you're looking for something light to read.

she loves to cook, she loves to eat [3/5] also good if you're looking for something light to read.

tamen de gushi [3/5] wholesome as you would expect. nice art on later years. depends on your taste.

my solo exchange diary [4/5] actually liked and grew to appreciate the author's organized narration style. it avoids a lot of confusion and she verbalizes her feelings in a relatable way for somethings sometimes so awkward to say out loud.

seibetsu x [2.5/5] this one is much less organized temporally and thematically so it can get a bit confusing, but it's funny on it's own, since the author is very blunt on their feelings lol.

killing stalking [3/5] less Evil than i remembered, just as disturbing, just as mid ending as i remembered. maybe it's bc of being a reread -that helps pick some things better- but reading it out of the heat of the moment in its era it's not as ill intended or deliberately romanticizing as one might have led to believe; it understands that much at least. visually however, still often leans into more eroticism i call inappropiate and unncessary.

boy's abyss [2.5/5] it's a manga that drags and wanders aimlessly too much, it gets repetitive. there are some plots and elements i consider more consistent and interesting, like the family, predatory relationships and the town's seeming unescapability themes, but the suicidal thing gets a bit exasperating when it just goes nowhere. dont expect tooo much. kinda good to binge tho.

himegoto, juukyuusai no seifuku [2.5/5] if you see the premise i know it sounds kinda weird but as i said when i read it my only comment abt is that it's suprisingly more compelling than one would expect, if you dont question much the individual prompts. gets kinda heavy by the end w on character tho.

yuureitou [2.5/5] sometimes entertaining on an adventure mystery type thing. theme and writing quality varying for the first 2/3s, off it's shits by the third that's kinda ehh conceptually. read it for some crazy shit ending. trans-wise, on the mc side, well they're some consistently annoying things all throughout but technically good intentioned but the ending 1/3 is v transmisogynistic, heads up.

uzumaki [2/5] ito's art is good. didnt really get me going much but not hated reading it. didnt get the ending, or didnt like it a lot at least.

fetish, kaoru fujiwara [2.5/5] takes a turn in seriousness by the 2nd story. 3rd story is so 😖 err, and then the rest go down in tone again.

the view beyond, kaoru fujiwara [2.5/5] one of those wouldn't that be fucked up stories. like that sure happened. not precisecly im even a fan of the message of the premise, even if it's technically showing it's horrible results.

raise wa tanin ga ii [3.5/5] t'was funny. all in all, esp towards the last chapters their interactions turn more earnest, personally, than i expected.

crying freeman [2/5] major saving grace is the art, it's pretty good. dunno, it feels however you feel about edgy 007-type 80s stories. personally didnt care abt mafia-clan thing substainance plots.

devilman lady [2/3] lot's of SA till it gets a bit unbearable and boring, heads up. did not care about most of the plot itself but if you liked the og devilman characters, the mains of Lady have the same likeability. save from The Horrors of the end. -shin devilman [1/5] boring. don't lose nothing over not reading it. uh. that first chaper uh.... -amon - devilman mokushiroku [1.5/5] edgy in the usual way dvm is edgy in that usual measure,s o the story is nothing to die for lol. good art (save for Things) and cool visuals, body horror, etc more than anything. the silene storyline is the more interesting part, the other idgaf about. -neo devilman [2/5] it's an anthology. seeing different artist's takes is entertaining enough. usual dvm edgyness. -devilman saga [0/5] boring dear god. not one saving grace of entertainment even for a nagai dvm work.

tetsuo the bullet man [1.5/5] shot for shot as the third tetsuo movie. i liked the manga and its ending more than the movie's tho. not like the movie is good anyway.

dog ningen [1/5] don't let the premise scare you, it's pretty mild. and amateur. and boring.

[lazerv4]

Thoughts on Boy Kills World

Just my raw thoughts not a review or anything

Sometimes you wanna shoot cool action scenes and you need a budget so you make up a borderline meaningless story so that the weird characters you wrote can fight and it can work well enough to pitch it and have it funded. Well this time that worked because what this movie lacks in plot and well sense it makes up for it in raw cool factor and well choreographed all the action is. The commitment to the action over story goes to the point where our main character is just called Boy and there is an entire character who since he can’t read his lips (Boy is mute and deaf) we just hear nonsense from him. If you like fighting games you will also be right at home since Boy speaks in the Street Fighter announcer voice for all his constant internal monologue and a lot of the movie is in general inspired by fighting games.

Another notable aspect of the movie is that everyone looks really cool, the costume designer did a really good job at catching that fighting game je ne sais quoi that makes the characters so appealing since well the movie also got a fighting game that I haven’t played but I’ve heard good things about so maybe someday.

The crowning jewel of this movie is the final fight between Boy and June27 vs the Shaman, which is not to say that the rest of the fight are bad because the culling fight has the fistgun and the first fight has incredible cinematography it’s just unfair because this one has Yayan Ruhian and if you’ve seen any of the two Raid movies you know why, he brings this explosive style to the fight and a somehow simultaneously more grounded type of fighting that the rest of the really out there stuff we saw before but with some really silly stuff that doesn’t break the intensity of the scene like using his long toenails as a weapon. The scene is just so fucking good man it’s a little over shot but Yayan is giving it his all and he can make anything martial arts the greatest thing you’ve ever seen plus both Bill Skargard and Jessica Rothe doing incredible work shoutout to the choreographer Dawid Szatarski who did an absolutely magnificent job with making it readable, cool and brutal as hell.

Fun time, go have a watch if you feel like quenching that craving for insane action that John Wick was tapping to in the later entries.

[signalwatch]

The Marvels (2023)

Watched:  11/09/2023

Format:  Alamo Drafthouse

Viewing:  First

Director:  Nia DaCosta

Marvel has been having some issues, of late, with quality and maintaining a fanbase.  I'm not sure why having a fanbase for sci-fi/ fantasy stuff means eventually that the absolute worst people on Earth feel like their opinions should dictate what the rest of the planet sees and what constitutes a "good" Marvel, Star Wars or whatever movie.  But I suppose it's the same reason that people think they get to tell other people they're the only *real* Americans.

I don't want to define the film Captain Marvel or TV show Ms. Marvel by the audience that manages to mix misogyny and racism into rocket fuel for social media, but I will say - in the event of this year's strike by SAG-AFTRA, it's been tough to get much in the way of promotion out there for The Marvels other than dropping trailers, and that's left a gap in the conversation those folks have filled.  It's more likely we'll see the occasional hit-piece by a major industry publication looking for clicks than Disney doing anything worthwhile to actually promote the film on their own.  We coulda really used the lead cast hitting Hot Ones and Good Morning America.

Look, I agree:  Marvel has put out too much content since Endgame, and that's had a deleterious effect on the overall quality of the material.  Even I have been asking "will this be necessary?" as I hear about each new Marvel thing still in the pipeline.  And sometimes you're watching, say, Loki Season 2, and you're thinking "I literally do not care what happens here" because something like "oh noes, the timelines will all collapse" is both meaningless, up it's own ass of the story being about itself, and insanely old hat to us aging comic nerds who've seen timelines and multiverses collapse and expand over and over for our *entire lives*.  And, yes, Superman will still get printed every month.

Movie superheroes still have to have an antagonist, and they still have to wind up in a big crescendo of a finale, but we've seen this dozens of times in the past fifteen years.  You can polish it, put a new coat of paint on it, but eventually it's someone in a slugfest with their evil opposite who has the advantage on paper (but not the heart of a hero).

So what you have left is what you can do with characters.

And that brings us to The Marvels (2023), Marvel Studios' latest offering.  

The movie has mediocre reviews and is tracking to open badly.  I haven't read the reviews, because (a) I already had tickets and was going, and (b) I kinda wanted to write this before I saw what Chris Spectacles of the Akron Observer thought of the film.*  And I didn't want this review to be me addressing the concerns of reviewers.  

I saw it in a 2/3rds full theater on opening night, and with not a child in sight.  I will say the following up top:  

First - there's no post-post-credits sequence to wait for.  Go home after the first couple of them.  This is not a trick.

Second - Before watching this, yes, you will have to have seen Captain Marvel.  You should see Ms. Marvel.  You will want to just skip Secret Invasion, which this movie pretends didn't happen, and that's fine, because that show was quite bad and more confused the MCU than helped it along.

SPOILERS

The Marvels (2023) is not going to change the world.  This is also not going to "save" Marvel Studios, if, indeed, Marvel Studios needs saving, or the *idea* of saving the studio that means anything at all.  

What I'll argue the movie does is provide a fun time at the movies with characters that are a good hang for the movie's speedy, non-stop runtime.  If Guardians of the Galaxy taught Marvel that what you need is a mix of action, comedy, space and family issues, this movie is absolutely a product of that line of thinking.  The Marvels isn't trying to copy Guardians (despite the fact the villain is a version of Ronan who is a mean lady instead of a mean man), but clearly those items were on a whiteboard somewhere while this movie was getting sorted out.  

The movie knows that the villain's plot is going to fail, and knows we, the audience, are just following the beats on that score.  And so it does the unthinkable of late for Marvel:  it uses the plot as an excuse to tell a three-sided story with three solid characters thrust together an inextricably linked, thereby creating a movie that's character driven.  The problems it addresses are personal in nature as much, or more!, than the need to stop Kree Hammer Lady.**

We catch up with the MCU as Kamala Kahn has settled a bit into her role as teen-hero, Ms. Marvel.  She's still very much a kid living with her family (Marvel understands when they've struck character gold).  Meanwhile Carol is in deep space, living with Goose and part of a network of folks helping keep peace across the galaxy, one supposes.  And, working aboard SABRE's orbital base, Monica Rambeau (I think last seen in WandaVision) is putting her powers to some use and being a scientist/ astronaut type.

But it seems since we checked in during the 1990's, the Kree had a civil war that somehow:  (a) messed up their sun? (b) evaporated their oceans and (c) ruined their atmosphere, creating a permanent state of planet-wide nightfall.  Not-Ronan has taken up the mantle and is trying to restore Hala, the Kree homeworld in a very Kree way - by murdering people.  She's obtained the second Quantum Band (Kamala having the first one we'd seen - there are two) and she's using it to open worm holes to...  

Look, the plot is the villainous plot from Spaceballs, and our villain is MegaMaid.  There's really no way around it.  It's not what *I* would have done as a writer, but Spaceballs was also 40 years ago, so... we may have to let this one go.  What's important is that MegaMaid is targeting planets in which Carol Danvers has an emotional investment and stealing their water, air and sun, and that's personal and mean.  But why?  Well, thereby hangs a tale.

But, like I say, it kind of doesn't matter.  She could be unleashing cooties on those planets.  She exists so our heroes get together and figure out their personal stuff.  And that's what the movie is about.

Monica has to figure out what it means that Carol didn't come back for Monica when Maria fell ill, both the why's and the impact.  Kamala has a parasocial relationship with Carol that Carol feels she has to live up to, even as it inspires Kamala and Carol doesn't feel at all like that hero.  But Kamala's hero-worship is kind of the unspoken opposite of how Monica has reacted to learning she has powers of her own.  And Kamala and Monica are complete strangers, navigating knowing each other while also seeing each other's relationship with Carol.  It's complicated stuff!  You could have made a similar indie movie about a movie star, her old friend and a fan, and gotten much of the same effect.  

But this one is in space, action-packed (I mean VERY action packed) and manages to balance the sincere moments with the incredibly silly moments with the pathos of inadvertently causing the self-immolation of Space Nazis.  And, in my opinion, it all worked.  

I liked the singing planet (but they did need to hold to the concept through the battle), I liked the kitten Flerkens and the absolute chaos of the evacuation scene.  I liked Kamala's family dealing with the nonsense of superhero/ SABRE life.  I liked the kooky three-way fights and the "we gotta synch up" montage.  The fight sequences are very well choreographed and work well despite what absolutely should have been a lot of confusion for the audience - ironically, only the audience is in a position to get what's happening. And I very much liked that our heroes *tried* to reason with the mad despot once it was clear they had the upper-hand and offer a way out of this.

In general, I was already in the bag for Brie Larson's take on Carol, and it's interesting to see a version 30 years older and with a lot of new, self-inflicted baggage.  Iman Vellani's Kamala Kahn is an absolute delight and can't wait to see her again.  And Teyonah Parris is very pretty great as my first Captain Marvel, and with decades of baggage to sort through with Carol, the blip, super-powers and how to be a superhero, which, frankly, she doesn't want to be.

Complaints:

So - did the singing planet die?  I have no idea what happened there.  It would be nice to know.  It seemed like everyone was going to die, and no one seems to care.

They basically borrowed the ending of All Star Superman, but didn't do it as well or with much emotional resonance, which is a real bummer.  Now DC can't use it, and this didn't land as well as it could have for Carol.  Felt like it needed a few more beats.

We gotta find more interesting ways to dress aliens.  Bright robes are very 1990's ST:TNG and it keeps happening at Marvel

Space is boring in this movie.  Marvel space was defined by James Gunn, and it is beautiful. Show that candy colored majesty, not ST:TNG white stars (the new Trek knows this).  There's definitely some more creative design they could have done, but maybe less is more if Quantumania was any indicator

Carol sure is good at astro-navigation and everything is apparently cosmically nextdoor in the MCU

I don't understand how the heroes became disentangled

Kamala uses her powers without her bangle, and I didn't know that was a thing

Spoilery Spoilers

It was fun seeing Valkyrie again, and good use of the character in her current role.  Also, sure felt like she and Carol knew each other pretty intimately...  Close to making that happen as Marvel will get, I guess

I don't know who Park Seo-joon is, but he was swoony.  I guess he's a big star?  Probably make the kids very happy

The first post credits scene was met with audible joy from the audience, so here's hoping that works.

The second post credits scene received an involuntary verbal response from me and a few others in the theater.  I like where they're going with this.  X-Men will not work in the MCU, but as close-universe neighbors, seems like a fine idea.  Also, thank goodness that isn't the last we'll see of Lashana Lynch

I was led to believe Richard Ryder/ Nova would appear, he does not.  

(late edit: this movie has the single greatest needle drop in Marvel history)

I don't think this one landed for me exactly as hard as the origins of either Ms. or Captain Marvel, but if the requirement was "I would like to spend time with these people, and see them together in a fun way" this managed that.  It feels unnecessary only in that it only barely strives to move a universe of stories forward and is, instead, self-contained and about these three people and their family/ friends.  It is very necessary as a "we should have solo stories that advance the characters but not carry the universe forward in obvious and awkward ways" sort of way.

Would I watch four more of these?  Yes.  

And thank god they got Nick Fury into a place where it's not a drag to have him around.

Look, I don't know what you people want out of Marvel, but I want something fun I can rewatch without feeling like I'm doing homework.  I like a good adventure and fight scenes and jokes and characters to enjoy.  I suppose I'll check out some reviews, and I think from my laundry list of nits to pick, it's clear I'm not giving this a 5/5, but when all you hear is "underperforming" and "mediocre reviews" in a world with ten movies about Vin Diesel driving cars fast and the general shit people get enthusiastic for, I won't even pretend to know what people consider a win.

*I swear to god, if I see one more person thinking they've got the edgy take on Marvel by saying "I don't consider Marvel movies to be *cinema*...   Dude, we get it.  You're very special and very smart and you can get your "I'm a very smart person on the internet" cookie on your way out the @#$%ing door

**no one is beholden to remember made-up alien names for longer than the name pass by in the credits

[canenotabeltofunction]

Not to sound like a pretentious hipster but art is not meant to appeal to everyone. Making art purely to appeal to as many people as possible defeats the purpose of creating in the first place. And so much of this has to do with consumerism and a lack of connection to other people.

Because of consumerism art has become something that needs to be as easy to consume by as many people as possible. Books are often heavily filled with tropes and caricatures of characters (ie: enemies to lovers, brooding male lead, sunshine female lead, etc). Songs and poems can’t have personal touches to them- it has to be as vague as possible so as many people can want to hear it. People are forced to make what the masses want rather than things that portray some kind of message. The intention behind the art becomes meaningless and overshadowed by the need for it to be profitable. And most of this is not the fault of the artist but more so in the need to survive in a capitalist hellscape.

The real reason for creating art gets lost. And with it so many people seem to have lost their ability to consume art properly. If it hasn’t been watered down or requires us to think about what it means to us or it doesn’t immediately make us happy then it’s labeled as “bad”.

I would rather listen to a song about a man singing about the ginger with a butterfly tattoo that broke his heart in college than someone sing about some outline of a girl and saying the things that they think will make me relate the most. Because one of those has real pain, real pain from a real person. Just because I was not heartbroken by a ginger woman with a butterfly tattoo I have been heartbroken and I am going to connect more deeply to this guys pain because it’s REAL it comes from a REAL place.

Unfortunately I feel like at least with what I see online, many people have forgotten how to do that. We want to consume it as quickly and mindlessly as possible- we don’t WANT to think about what something means.

And people forget that art isn’t always supposed to make you feel good. Sometimes it’s supposed to disturb you, sometimes it’s supposed to piss you off. Obviously there are times that I want to just watch a fun little movie and not think about the deeper meaning. But just because a movie disturbed me or because I don’t agree with the message of something doesn’t mean it was bad.

Even creating art for the purpose of making things people will like has some depth when you are doing it out of love and the desire to spread happiness or comfort or to make people smile. But often that even gets overshadowed by the need to make things as quickly as possible and removes that emotional aspect.

But overall this is your reminder that your art is meant to be personal. Because making art that is genuine may not connect to as many people but for the people it does it will be in a deeper way.

[vacantgodling]

15 character questions!!

thankuuuu @kudzucataclysm ily. ig i'll do this for chidorky cuz why not :D

tagging @henrike-does-writing-sometimes @magic-is-something-we-create @sarahlizziewrites & anyone else who'd like to do this :D

1 - Are you named after anyone?

No, I don't think so. I think my parents just liked the way it sounded? I never asked either of them about it, to be honest. I was always just Chidori haha!

2 - When was the last time you cried?

HmMMmm. When the mechanic shop charged me like 200 sturges(1) for their last repair part for my boots. I cried so much holy shit, that was my entire paycheck for the past three weeks. If the Bianchi's(2) weren't so good to me I would probably be homeless again, but gooood those mechanics are mean.

sturges are the currency of the world, named after the now extinct sturgeon fish :)

the Bianchi's are amehana's family, they run the medium restaurant chain BIG TOPZ CHIKIN N' SHRIMP. as they've known and cared for chidori since he was young, they look after him like family since he has none of his own :)

3 - Do you have kids?

Nah, but I don't think I'd want kids. That's more Ame's kind of thing, honestly. I can't imagine changing my life to work around someone else’s. To be there and then... potentially be gone. And then make them have to suffer alone. I mean--I've already been through something like that, so I wouldn't want to do something like that to someone who would depend on me. I like kids though! I consider myself a kid sometimes to be honest www

4 - Do you use sarcasm?

Sometimes yeah! I’d like to think I’m pretty good at it :’D

5 - What’s the first thing you notice about people?

A lot of their physical um… form? Usually I don’t pay attention to people unless i’m TMing and that’s usually so like, if something happens I know if I can get them out of harms way or not, y’know?

6 - What’s your eye color?

Ahhhhh *checks mirror* Yellow… Brown? If that’s a color? Like it’s a really light brown but there’s no green so it can’t be hazel… I dunno honestly ww

7 - Scary movies or happy endings?

BOTH! I hate movies that end with everyone being dead and sad cuz that sucks and if I want to live in a fantasy world like at least let the death mean something. I’d say the same thing about real life but sometimes death is so… meaningless. Y’know? It’s really bleak to think about. So, I don’t wanna deal with that in a movie BUT it has to be cool and action packed and a lil scary to be interesting!

8 - Any special talents?

I can break dance pretty well! I have a photographic memory of the city and all of its routes :3c

9 - Where were you born?

I dunno, to be honest. It’s something I never asked my parents about before and I don’t know if I care that much to be honest. I’m here! That’s what matters.

10 - What are your hobbies?

Break dancing, spending time with friends, ummm… Hoverboarding? I guess. I like to do stuff! So I’m willing to try anything :3

11 - Have you any pets?

Nah. I’m not home enough to take care of one, and the permit process to even Get a pet is too tedious y’know? There aren’t really many pets left around, so you have to be registered to have one and like, they can come and take your pet away from you if you’re an unfit owner and shit so like, I’d rather not deal with that.

12 - What sports do you/have you played?

I used to play air hockey(1)! It was a lot of fun but I was never like super good at it. I got cut from the team a lot, but they’d always bring me back on when they needed an extra player! I mostly enjoyed just doing it, I never really got people who cried if we won or lost? I just wanted to enjoy doing it so I did!

air hockey referring to actually using hover boots to play something akin to hockey as we know it in the air. there’s a puck that has its own magnetic field and the sticks are basically just giant magnets that keep the puck aloft.

13 - How tall are you?

5’8”? I think? I haven’t measured recently! :3

14 - Favorite subject in school?

Mm, school wasn’t really for me—like high school. But, the train academy (authors note: that i will properly name eventually…) was everything to me! I got to learn more about the history of our city, trains, combat, how to be a train master and stuff so. That I enjoyed.

15 - Dream job?

Already living it! Train master supreme baby!! :DD

[shpadoinkle-day]

Annoying Trey Parker

If you don't know who Trey Parker is, might I suggest that that huge, dark object over your head is a rock you've been under for three years and you should come out from under it? I've been a fan of Trey Parker and Matt Stone since seeing Alferd Packer: The Musical about four years ago. I missed out on South Park at first, but when I finally did start watching it, I had no idea it was also by Trey and Matt. It did make a lot of sense when someone finally told me...anywho, how did I get ahold of Trey Parker to ask him these questions? Well, back when I first started the old website, I had a bunch of South Park stuff up, and one of the things was a series of questions I'd ask Matt and Trey...but not really. They were mostly stupid things that were just jokes. Well, somehow, Trey found the site and answered all the questions. This is why he got out of my standard Bad Taste and Simpsons questions. Yes, I feel stupid, but since I am so good at looking like an ass, anyway, what's a little help from one of the world's best satirists?

Me: In the song ''Blame Canada,'' Terrance and Phillip are referred to as cartoons, yet they interact with the people of South Park. Does this mean that the people are all cartoons and aware of that fact, or was ''cartoon'' just a better word in the song than ''movie?''

Trey: Shiela said they are actors, but Cartman said they were animated, but the movie IS a cartoon, dude.

M: In the South Park movie, was Big Gay Al cast in an anti-Canadian role as a testimony to the fact that ANYONE can succumb to biases, or was it just a cheap way to bring back a popular character?

T: It's just funny that they like him because it's a gay guy at a USO Show, gay and army usually don't mix.

M: Since it hurts to do Cartman's voice, do you find yourself sometimes conciously reducing his part or writing him out all together?

T: No, Cartman is the one who says the politically incorrect stuff that nobody else has the balls to say.

M: Does it bother you that people are always curious if you're gay even though it has absolutely NO baring whatsoever on your work and is a completely meaningless, stupid thing to wonder?

T: They do?

M: So...are you gay?

T: No, you seem like a big fan, ever heard of Lianne or Toddy?

(Lianne is the horse in Alferd Packer, but I don't know who Toddy is...)

M: How come the South Park home videos are still censored?

T: The people at Rhino are dicks sometimes.

M: Was the re-use of the stage name ''Juan Schwartz'' on the Mr. Hankey CD a signal to long time fans that there will be a Cannibal 2, or was it just a way to try and hide the fact that you two do all the voices?

T: We have long time fans?

M: Why the fuck was Orgazmo NC-17? Was it the dog humping scene? Was that scene fun to shoot? If you had to shoot that scene again, would you pick a different breed?

T: There is an unrated version out there somewhere too.

M: Was South Park: Bigger, Longer, and Uncut always going to be an attack on the biased, idiotic MPAA, or did that just evovle because they really suck?

T: Both, just another group we hadn't offended enough yet

M: Tell me, if a group is an ''advisory'' board for parents, giving out ''suggestions,'' how is it that NO ONE under 17 was allowed into South Park without an adult, when surely a suggestion implies that parents should not allow their children to see it, not that the theatres should become some sort of police state just to keep underagers from YOUR film?

T: Ask the wangs who sell the tickets.

M: Whenever Hitler appears, he is always speaking gibberish. Is this a statement that people will follow along with anything if it's said well, or merely an indication of your lack of German skills?

T: That is all Matt's fault!!

M: How annoying is it when fans spot ''goofs'' that are actually jokes and make a big deal about how you fucked up? Like if someone said that Mr. Garrison's history lessons are very inaccurate or something.

T: Some people are complete retards.

M: DVDA should release an EP or something. You've already got at least 3 songs down.

T: In our spare time, right?

M: I hope you didn't try to answer that last one, as it wasn't a question.

T: I hate you now.

M: Nor was that.

T: I want to hit you.

M: If you two could be any type of fish, would you prefer Scooby Doo or erasable pens?

T: I want to bitchslap you and shoot frozen paintballs at you.

[thatbitchsimone]

I love you I love you

Thank you thank you

It’s a long story of circle of abuse, I used to save her from my father hitting her and few years later I had to save myself from both of them hitting me

I truly believe she’s evil, not what she does to me but to others also, she beats and humiliates not only me but the maids too, the other siblings are not beaten, the brother sometimes rarely but he’s her worshipper so i don’t think he minds.

I will get a job soon but I don’t think I can move out, it’s not very common here you know, and my father is like a influential guy, but hopefully when I earn my own money and cut her off I’ll be happy, we have a big house so living separately is possible.

I found out something today and it made me sick to my stomach, I have my whole life faced disgusting men, but turns out my brother is also one of them, he is after all my fathers and mothers son. he is an Andrew tate fanboy btw so you can guess his entire personality by that lolllllll.

I am so sorry this is alot of stuff to hear on a site where you are supposed to have fun, I am sending you apology hugs, take care 🫂❤️

Btw have you read the bell jar by Sylvia plath? It’s so depressing it’s taking me months to finish HAHAHAH

that is fucking awful and yes, i dont even believe in the whole concept of evil (i was raised without religion in a completely secular country + im very into psychology so good vs evil is not part of my worldview lol) but some behaviors even i just have to describe as evil and ur mom fits that pretty well like abusing ur own children is fucking evil. i have empathy for her to some extent since her behavior is clearly the result of her being abused herself like u said but it gets clouded by the absolute disgust and hatred and rage i feel for her for letting herself become the abuser herself and keeping the circle of abuse going by passing it on to her children. its one thing to not have the strength or power to stop ur husband from abusing ur kids, but straight up joining in on the abuse is a whole other level of disgusting and im so sorry u have to experience this.

but i do have to say that u seem like a genuinely good person like i really feel like u have so much kindness and love in ur heart and u seem like a very strong, sensible and intelligent girl and i get a strong feeling that the cycle of abuse is gonna end with u (as in, u wont be carrying it on and u will break free from it and if u have kids in the future u will be a good and loving mom to them) and i just wanna acknowledge that bc thats amazing and inspiring and i admire u so much like i just have so much admiration for u right now like u are everything u are the moment u are the vibe

anyway, glad to hear that u at least live in a big house so that u can at the very least have some space from her even tho u live together. i get that its not as easy or simple as some ppl think to ”just move out” especially if u live in a very family oriented culture where its not the norm to do so on top of it all so i think the best thing to do currently is to just kind of try to stay out of her way and honestly just not even listen to the bullshit she says bc her insults are kinda meaningless tbh bc lets be real, if u were skinny she would just use something else to criticize u for. she just wants to put u down in any way she can no matter what u look like. u could probably look like a damn supermodel or movie star and she would still find something to pick on and put u down for, bc she has issues. shes disturbed. her words are empty and her opinions on u are just completely irrelevant. why should u care if a deranged abusive sadist doesnt ”approve” of ur body and size? this woman thinks its ok to mentally torment everyone around her, even HER OWN CHILDREN that she just so happens to not just verbally and emotionally abuse but straight up physically abuse. shes a child abuser. actual scum of the earth. like honestly next time she says something about ur body or calls u fat or whatever this psychopath likes to call u just remind urself that this woman is actually disturbed and sick in the head like shes literally a terrible human being lol who the fuck is she to criticize anyone like ok so u got a little extra meat on ur bones meanwhile she is a deranged sadistic child abuser. like girl whatever flaw u may have is nothing compared to the flaws she has like u are so far above her in every way that actually matters like ur literally so much better than her in every way like shes actually pathetic.

sorry about ur brother btw. seems like us women can never catch a break from these male parasites that are crawling around everywhere these days. they just keep getting worse and worse now with all the andrew tate shit brainwashing them. thank god we women have each others backs in this vile current climate. sisterhood is so important, especially now with all this crazy shit going around.

and yes ofc ive read the bell jar! read it for the first time when i was 16 and have reread it a few times since then. its one of those books that deeply resonates with nearly every woman who reads it even now generations later like its truly timeless in that way thats why its so good