#sound the bugle now.. play it just for me…

[nostalgicbones]

[directdogman]

how would the dialtown cast feel abt their respective theme songs, especially with the context that its meant to represent them? do any of them feel like the song accurately represents them?? ive wondered abt this a lot

Off the top of my head, most would find their themes fitting, I think.

Oliver would consider his theme a jam. Karen would agree hers is fitting and like the mechanical bits. In one ending, Gingi DOES describe Randy's theme to him and his reaction is more or less like "...Huh." I think he'd be the most insecure about his theme of the datables, wondering why it sounds sorta comical ("Do people laugh at me and see me as a fuckup?! My fears ARE real!")

Bigfoot would listen to his theme and seem at peace, maybe give a thumbs up if you asked if he liked it.

Norm would 100% be happy about his theme since it's very western-sounding and sounds like it commands respect, but post chapter 3, probably worry it sounds too serious and worry his friends are intimidated by him.

I'm not sure what Mingus would think of her theme. Probably find the cat presence overwhelming, like "I'm the MAYOR of a city, I feel like all I hear in this is the cat. The bugle's nice, though." ironically preferring the Crown bit of the theme to the bit that's actually about herself, which is quite fitting now that I think of it.

God would hear his theme and think "heh... yep, that's me alright!"

Stabby + Shooty would find out they don't have a theme in the basegame and insist they write their own and play it and it would likely sound like ed edd n eddy background music. just chaotic avant garde jazz.

Roger would probably be like "...wait. this music sounds silly. don't people see me as an authority figure? are you sure this is my theme? it's okay if you played the wrong one, we all make mistakes. can you please check again?"

[diejager]

I’m finally working on it @cobwebs-in-autumn

Your Number’s Up Cw: stalking, Ghostface!reader, panic, tell me if I missed any.

The phone rang a third time now, Johnny ignored the first two calls, listening to it ring four five times before it cut to his voicemail, waiting for the caller to leave a message, but they never did. It started getting on his nerves, the fierceness in Johnny only fuelling the irritation boiling under his skin. Before the last beat rang, he picked up the phone, listening to the silence on the other side of the call.

“Hello?”

“Hello, Johnny.”

He jumped, eyes widening at the raspy tone of the caller —unknown and strange. The caller knew his name, something he might’ve shared with many, but the tone they used was similar to one he knew intimately, a teasing and rumbling edge. Perhaps it was a prank, someone he knew wanted to play a prank on him. Maybe Gaz was finally able to rope his LT into pulling his leg, but that didn’t explain the cold sweat that broke on his skin, the rapid raise of his hair and the chill he felt when he heard the voice answer him.

“Funny, LT, ” he forced a laugh out of him, his throat tightening so much that he felt like he was choking, “Did Gaz put yer up tae this?”

the line went quiet for a second, he couldn’t hear the caller’s breathing or any sight of life other than the creepy, raspy voice taunting him.

“Wrong.”

A single word had never sent his heart pummelling down his stomach like this one had, a sense of panic rose in his chest, replacing the tentative mischievous he was preparing to return once he assure who was on the other end of the line. Johnny hadn’t expected someone else to call him with such a menacing air, it played with every trained and beaten instinct into him.

“What’s wrong, Johnny?” The voice on the other side cackled, a cruel and sinister sound, vibrating through his body like an earthquake shattering the earth, “Aren’t you happy to finally meet your stalker?”

His eyes bugled out of its sockets, his nerves were set on fire, mind spiralling out in a frantic search of his memory. He couldn’t remember feeling watched or any indication of him being stalked —Simon hadn’t said a word and that worried him. He hung up without a second thought, his body acting on primal need, to survive and to feel safe, he hung up the phone and quickly sent Simon a message. Johnny needed Simon to call him and to reassure him that this was a mean prank and that he didn’t have a stalker.

When his phone rang, he tapped on the green button without looking for a name, thumb moving instinctively, fully believing he got a call from Simon.

“Why’d you hang up on me, Johnny?”

Johnny felt like his world was crumbling in on itself.

Next

Taglist: @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @bvxygriimes @distracteddragoness @konigsblog @havoc973 @im-making-an-effort @daisychainsinknots @0alk0msan @danielle143 @dont-mind-me-just-existing-sadly @tuttifuckinfruttifriday @kaelysian @notspiders @brokenpieces-72 @petwifed @aldis-nuts @randominstake

[sensei-venus]

WaterPark Blow~ (GirlCock!Tory x Chubby!Reader)

Kinktober Day 6-Blowjob

(Unedited) (Public Sex, Blowjob, Slight Cum Play, Facial, GirlCock!Tory, Hinted at Bully!Tory, Secret Relationship.)

“You better fucking hurry this shit up. Everyone is fucking waiting for me outside, I didn't expect for you to jump me like this.” Tory hissed while grabbing a fist full of Reader’s hair. Reader moaned out around the large bugle inside the other girls swim bottoms. The orange fabric was damp with a layer ofcorian water and spit. The taste was a mix of sour and just plain wet fabric.

Reader did her very best to try and suck at the other girls cock. It twitched under the thick fabric at the chubby girls attention. Her hit set mouth suckling against it. It made Tory grunt out in annoyance and roll her eyes. They darted from Reader to the bathroom door. Just outside that very door, the whole group of cobra Kai students wait for her.

It was supposed to be just a simple outing to the water park. A day to chill without the thought of the up coming practice next week.

But then in the mist of the group showing you to swim, Reader showed you to crash the little party.

Well not really, it wasn't like she was trying to actually mess with the group of mean kids. She just happened to show up at the wrong place at the wrong time. When Tory first spotted her in the crowd of kids she was pissed. The two of them had been fucking for a few weeks now. They swear to keep it a secret from everyone.

Reader because she was scared of the cobras finding out and harassing her even more than they already did.

Tory because she didn't want her friends to know she was fucking the “fat bitch” at school. Deep down it wasn’t because of that, it was because she didn’t want to put the girl under their radar. She knew they would bully her more then they already did. Both of them would be put under a bad light if anyone found out about their little relationship.

“You can’t even go a day without trying to get at my dick can you?” She smirked. She looked back down to Reader who was still trying to mouth at her hard dick. Fat little tongue sticking out as she licked up the fabric. The way her chubby little cheeks and pretty eyes looked from under her bulging dick. It had her rolling her eyes and shoving her harder into her crotch.

With a free had Tory quickly slid the sides of her bikini bottoms down her hips. Wiggling out of them until they meet her mid thigh. Her hard cock sprung out right into the shocked girls face. The wet head slapping her right in the face.

A string of cum beaded across her nose, it snapped as Tory pulled away ever so slightly. She smirked as the chubby girl sat in awe at her feet. Moments later she was licking up the girls shaft.

The skin of her dick was covered in a mix of pre and spit. The longer she spent slobbering all over the fat dick in her face the more Tory grew both nervous and horny.

“Fuck can you just get on with it and suck my dick already! Stop mouthing at it and suck it bitch!” She growled while shoving the girl closer to her dick. Reader moaned around the flesh before moving to the head. She gave it a few hard licks before wrapping her plush lips around the head. She gave a few soft ducks to the fat head before moving down. Quickly gobbling up the aggressive girls meat. She shook her head a little while sucking.

Tears welled up in her eyes as she took more into her tiny mouth.

It started to hit the back of her throat making her gag a little which on speared Tory on. Smirking she tugged at the girls hair. Watching the way she struggles to take every inch of her cock. The nasty sound of gagging fills the tiny bathroom. The wet sound of gargling and slurping made her stomach tighten even more.

Her eyes rolled back as she started using the girls wet mouth. The feeling of hollowed out cheeks and her wet mouth around her. A moan bubbles up from her chest. Heading tilting back as Reader worked her cock. One of her hands started to play with her balls. Lightly scrapping over the sensitive skin. She jerked a bit and her balls drew up, Reader knew every single trick to make her cum. It was like there was some unwritten handbook. One that only she knew about and memorize completely.

The girls fingers traced over a vain under one of her balls just right. Tory felt like her belly was going to explode at any moment. Her head filled to the brim with pleasure.

“How are you this good?” She hissed at the chubby girl.

Reader moaned as loud as she could while bobbing her head up and down. Her pace soon quickened to the point spit started to fly. It splattered over Tory’s naked belly and thighs. It trailed down to her balls and collected at the very bottom. It soon dribbled to the floor below in a small poodle. It was almost as if she was smiling from her position on the floor.

Her big eyes stared up at Tory though her lashes. Eyes sparking as she took what she wanted from the girl, the shudders and silent moans.

Tory though her head back, using both hands she placed them on the back of the girls head.

“Shit get ready!” She whimpered out though gritted teeth. Moments later she let loose with a small howl. Her hips jackrabbit as the fire in her belly finally explodes. Brows knitting together as a rough orgasm shots though her.

Out of no where she rips Reader off her dick. Reader lets out a loud gasp as her mouth is ripped away from the wet cock. Tory let’s go of her hair and holds her dick as it sends out ripe after rope of cum. It’s thick and warm as it lands on Reader’s face. It splashes onto her cheeks, nose lips and forehead. She has to close her eyes as it spurts out across her face. It drips from her brows and over her lashes.

It’s a miracle that it some how doesn’t get into her hair.

She breaths a little bit heavy as she cracks her eyes open to watch the last round of cum leave her girlfriends dick. She gives a breathy sigh as she watches her finally tapper off. The nice dick twitching at the aftermath of it all, completely spent. Balls now completely drained for the time being.

Tory slaps her slowly softening cock across the girls puffy lips.

“Such a good girl for me ain’t yah.” She smirks.



[jedimandalorian]

For the church of Ezrabine/sabezra, have you ever thought of making an actual prayer/hymn?

Ah, sorry, just realized this might sound insensitive on a religious basis, did not mean for it to come off like that. Anyways, have a nice day/night!

No, because I don’t want to be disrespectful of real prayers and religious music. I’m a church musician among other things.

I like to parody secular songs though. I think I am pretty good at it. 😉 Here’s one based on Boogie Woogie Bugle Boy:

🎺

He was a con artist and a thief from out in Lothal way

He had a street rat style that no one else could play

He was the top boy at his craft

But then his number came up and he was gone with the draft

He's in the Ghost Crew now, a learnin’ Jedi skills

He's the Easy Breezy Bridger Boy of Hera’s Ghost crew!

He met the Mando girl when Hera’s crew took flight

And and now he thinks about her every day and night

That boy’s obsessed with Sabine Wren

That Mandalorian girl

She’s got his mind in a whirl

He’s really got it bad

for Spectre 5, it’s true

He's the Easy Breezy Bridger Boy of Hera’s Ghost crew.

They made him learn the light side ways from blind Kanan

Then Maul tried to take him as his padawan

The captain seemed to understand

Because the next day the cap' went out and gathered her crew

And now the Ghost Crew flies when he calls “Save Lothal!”

He's the Easy Breezy Bridger Boy of Hera’s Ghost crew!

🎺

Here’s one based on the folk ballad Lost Lady Found:

🎵

Twas on planet Lothal a Jedi did dwell,

He lived with the Ghost crew, they all knew full well,
'Twas down on the planet where Loth-cats did play,

The purrgil were summoned and stole him away.

Long time he’d been missing, and could not be found; 
His captain she searched all the galaxy ‘round

Till she came to the senate, between hope and fear,

The senate made answer, "He has not been here.

"

The senator declared with arrogance bold,

“I fear he’s been lost, likely dead so I’m told

So we'll have your commission” Xiono did say,

"We'll send you to prison, and there you shall stay.

“There was a young Mando that loved the Jedi,

Oft times through the stars both together they’d fly,

"I'm afraid he’s been murdered, so great is my fear.

If I'd wings like a starbird I’d fly to my dear.

“She traveled to Seatos with her Master and droid,

Till she ventured her life through the endless void,

And she came to a planet where she lodged for a night, 
And on that same planet was her own heart's delight.

When she saw him, she knew him, and fled to his arms; 
She told him her grief while he gazed on her charms.
"How came you to Peridea, my dearest, I pray?"

"The purrgil I summoned had swept me away."

"Our captain’s on Coruscant, in prison does lie,

And for your sweet sake is condemned for to die."

"Carry me to our galaxy my dearest," he cried.

“I will be your husband, and you’ll be my bride."

When they arrived on Coruscant for their captain to see, 
The cart it was under the high gallows tree;

"Oh, pardon, oh, pardon, oh, pardon I crave.

I'm alive, I'm alive, your dear life to save."

Then from the high gallows they led Hera away,

The bells they did ring and the music did play,

Every house on that planet with mirth did resound, 
As soon as they heard the lost Jedi was found.

🎵

Space Aladdin!

🧞‍♂️

I can show you the Force,

Shining, shimmering, splendid

Tell me, countess

Now, when did you last let your heart decide?

I can open your eyes

Take you wonder by wonder

Over, sideways and under

On a magic purrgil ride

A whole new world

A new fantastic place to be

No one to tell us, "No"

Or where to go

Or say we're only dreaming

A whole new world

A planet that I never knew

But when I'm way up here

It's crystal clear

That now I'm on a whole new world with you

(Now I'm on a whole new world with you)

Unbelievable sights

Indescribable feeling

Soaring, tumbling, freewheeling

With this darn jet pack on

A whole new world (Don't you dare close your eyes)

A hundred thousand things to see (Hold your breath, it gets better)

I'm like a shooting star

I've come so far

I can't go back…

Prince Jedi mighty is he, Ezra of Lothal

Strong as ten regular men, definitely

He's faced the Imperial hordes

A hundred Sith Lords with swords

Who sent those goons to their lords?

Why, Prince Jedi!

He's got seventy-five golden loth cats

Purple purrgil

He's got fifty-three

When it comes to exotic-type mammals

Has he got a zoo?

I'm telling you, it's a galactic menagerie!

Prince Jedi Handsome is he, Ezra of Lothal

That physique! How can I speak

Weak at the knee

Well, get on out in that square

Adjust your beskar and prepare

To gawk and grovel and stare at Prince Jedi!

Prince Jedi!

Amorous he! Ezra of Lothal

Heard your countess was a sight lovely to see

And that, good Mandos is why he got dolled up and dropped by

With sixty X-Wings, rebels galore

With his Loth cats and wolves

The Ghost Crew and more

With his forty starships, his droids, his wisecracks

His Convor that warble on key

Make way for prince Jedi!

[towertea]

first post here

listening session two: 

I just took my meds so I’m going to try to be smart at the beginning but whew, it is a lot harder to come up with coherent thoughts before they kick in! Also, I have got Genius in a split-screen with my doc, so I might get some line breaks messed up. Oops. Get ready for 2,700 words of pure nerdery.

(the manuscript)

First of all I really like the tone that the beginning of this song sets! The single horn to me evokes feelings of waking up early in my childhood family trips to the Adirondack Mountains, hearing bird calls echo across the foggy lake. A single horn in Western culture makes me think of my grandma’s stories of playing Taps at summer camp; it sounds to me almost like a bugle, used in historical wartime as a signal. The presence of a single brass in our society tells us that we need to pay attention, and combined with Susan’s quiet, spoken narration, this song strikes a perfect tone after the craziness in the end of “happy/crazy.” 

Another ghost! I’m paying close attention to her behavior; the grandfather’s ghost was clearly stuck in a cycle in his words, and the grandmother isn’t, but I wonder if she will be in some other way. Or, as the original master of the house, maybe she’s the sorcerer with power over the pūķis and the hoard, and she’ll be able to guide Susan out of her struggle. 

(the berries and the plums)

A story within a story!! I’m a big fan of this trope. It reminds me of being a kid and obsessed with mythology and stories. It also reminds me of 1001 Arabian Nights, where Scheherazade has her own story that’s driving the stories that she tells. I’m a big fan of storytelling in general; I used to tell my little sister elaborate fairytales in the car.

Ching Valdes-Aran plays the grandmother. So far I really think she’s perfect for it! I love her voice, and she has a knowing sparkle in her eye. She’d make a badass sorcerer!!

Love the imagery! Nice callback to the line “the birch trees stand like ghosts”,  because now we see that in a way, they are ghosts. They witnessed history that’s passed on.

My English teacher from freshman year is reminding me that “cannon fire coming closer/his eyes so far away” is an example of poetic antithesis, where two opposing ideas are placed in a contrasting parallel structure. Think “to be, or not to be” from Hamlet. Its use here highlights how painful it is to be in this situation: your husband should be close to you. Danger ought to be far away

Also, hay! It’s the first building material in the Three Little Pigs. I hope that for Grandmother, hay hides her better than the first little pig.

Man. Grandmama you’re not the only one whose heart he’s breaking… ough

I’m noticing that this is one of the first songs we get that’s in common (4/4) time! We’ve pretty much entirely been getting waltzes to sweep us along through Susan’s life, and this creates a musical contrast that separates this song as telling a story rather than a story unfolding.

I feel like I can’t get a read on the grandfather’s verses analytically. I mean, I guess this makes sense. It’s supposed to be expressing the fact that there’s some distance between him and the rest of the family that can’t be bridged. I struggle with the fact that I can’t understand him here, which is probably the point. But given that he’s presented as Susan’s mirror, the guy to pass down Susan’s tendencies towards depression and addiction, I hope that we get to understand his motives at some point. Otherwise I sort of feel like Susan’s not ever going to understand herself, and that would be kind of disappointing. Or maybe the point will be that there’s a darkness in all of us that we’ll never understand, and we just have to live with that, which… Yeah, I guess that’s Realistic… But come on man. It would be nice to understand it!!

I like the explicit mirroring on the “I can’t leave yet” and the “some day/when all my troubles here are over” between the Grandfather and Susan. 

What a Roman it would make? I have a real boner for Rome. If y’all ever need Latin translations… hit me up. Ah, I see okay. Someone’s attached a comment from Dave on the listening party: I didn’t know that this was inspired by his own family! That’s interesting. I think that definitely lends to how compelling the story is. 

Crying like a baby.  The tiny quiet dissonant violin. the HARMONIES??? I’m actually dying. 

Yeah, I mean I don’t think my troubles will go away within my life either. 

(blood)

Awww… A little bit disappointed with the pacing here. Suddenly she understands herself perfectly after spending like a billion songs going crazy? I mean I guess that was how lockdown felt: endless and then over all of a sudden. 

Damn, is there stuff on Genius that’s cut out of the song? That disappoints me a bit, I’d like to know why.

I really do agree with Susan here. There is so much more that I want to know too! I guess I’ll have to resign myself to this, but man, I would listen to a whole musical of just Susan and her family. 

I’m drawing a parallel thematically between the “demon” inside of Susan and the monster in Octet. 

Nevermind actually I’m no longer disappointed with the pacing. Spooky sound and a haunting last line. I’m a big fan of works of art that use that unfulfilled feeling that comes when a story doesn’t have a satisfying end, at least when it’s done well. I think if you ever want to read books that give that same feeling, I would definitely recommend Kazuo Ishiguro’s writing; I think his books The Remains of the Day* and A Pale View of Hills are thematically and tonally very similar to Susan’s arc. Many of his books are very character-driven rather than plot-driven, exploring the inner workings of their minds over the course of a novel without having large concrete changes. I think Susan’s arc, at least, is definitely very character-driven in the same way, peeling back the layers of her character without significant changes to her life. I think this artistic choice innately often creates a sense of disappointment and even anger in the audience because after becoming attached to a character we want to see things get better for them; actually, concretely, better. But when done well, it’s a touching, delicate, and realistic exploration of a character. We want there to be a happy ending, but we don’t always get that. When this trope is executed well, it brings a sense of companionship for us people outside of stories who don’t get neat tidy endings. I think Susan’s arc is pretty damn good. *I have never watched the movie and I don’t know whether it’s good. The book is really damn good. Read it.

(intro (ii))

Huge fan of the more electronic sound here! I hope it’ll carry on throughout Sadie’s arc. It’s not the first time Malloy has done this in one of his works; I’m reminded of Great Comet, where the music is more folk and classical inspired and shifts to add electropop when Anatole shows up. 

This is also a waltz! 

Ooh I am in love with Mia Pak’s voice! 

I like the contrast I can see between a desert and Sarah’s forest with her riches in her house. Don’t really have any deeper thoughts on that right now… but I wonder if it’ll show up later.

Okay, we have some more strings in here, so I guess her arc won’t just be electronic. It would be really embarrassing if there were electronic influences during Sarah’s arc and I just plumb forgot. 

(desert)

Oh I super love this organ!! It conveys a bit of energy that I don’t remember Sarah having at this point, and the beat has a pep in its step too. So far, I would definitely put this on my warmup playlist, haha.

OOOH!!! DAVE MALLOY!! The sudden change in the music from the exposition to how great the house was!! I love the way Pak’s voice sounds on “fucking GREAAAAAT!” It goes along with the change in instrumental depth very well. I think I’ll have this song on loop for a while.

In the background here I recognize a super common bass line from playing jazz, blues, and ragtime in piano. I like the decrease in energy when she talks about looking at the stars. 

Just for my own bookkeeping, I would like to make the observation that this is not a waltz. 

I love the melody on “flitter and flutter!” And I’m a big fan of the alliteration and onomatopoeia on “while the windchimes whisper lullabies.” The phrase “colorstorms of dust” reminds me almost of stained glass for some reason. The way she’s describing the scenery it almost makes me feel like it’s a cathedral; when it’s quiet, it’s holy and reverent, and when it’s loud, it’s magnificent and powerful. I think the organ probably is lending to this impression.

Oh! the minor chords! I have a feeling this is not going to turn out all perfect. I really like the transition to a more sparse soundscape instrumentally to highlight how alone she is.

Oh she’s playing video games!! No wonder the sound has an electronic influence! Sarah had her grandparents’ records, so her instrumentals had a classical music influence. Sadie’s just playing video games (me too babe) so she’s got that electronica.

I feel like I should make sure people know I haven’t played music since I was twelve and that this is not the correct language for doing so, probably. I am going off of vibes.

(the village)

Oh! She’s talking about swords and sorcery. Sarah’s grandmother is the sorcerer in her arc, as the master of the pūķis, and she talks about picturing her grandmother with a sword. I love when things tie together!

Dave Malloy would make a banger video music soundtrack. 

OH AND SHE WAS A LITTLE PIG!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! WOAH!!!!!!!!! Because she’s one of the Three Little Pigs!

(the house)

I looked up photos of Vermillion, Ohio, and it’s really a gorgeous place. 

OH! “The house of my childhood summers/the house of my childhood happiness” draws a really interesting parallel not just between being happy and being a child but also summer and happiness! Looking at the pandemic timeline I think she’s probably in the summer right now, and it’s a nice twist of dramatic irony that she’s not happy in this New Mexico summer and has to escape to a video game recreation of her childhood.

I am someone who will spend forever looking at photo albums. 

Wait, so will her grandparents be ghosts too? She’s not in their house though. Will they go into the video game?? Will the WOLF be in the video game??? A game that’s like animal crossing but with this horrifying wolf as an antagonist sounds like a lot of fun to play.

I like the dissonance here when they’re listing objects.

Mention again of OCD, which is also mentioned in Octet. I know Malloy has mentioned before that OCD traits run in his family, and in all of these there seems to be that compulsion to do things until it’s Right. I know that sometimes people say “I’m so OCD” about liking things to be clean and orderly, and that drives me and a lot of people nuts. I think it’s different in this presentation and in Octet because clearly there’s a harmful element to the compulsive behaviors. It’s not just hating when things are messy, there’s a desire to do something to make “everything just right.” I think this distressing quality is highlighted by the dissonance here.

(carpentry)

OH! She says that she chose her specialty as carpentry because her grandpa was a luthier! And Sarah got HER depression and addiction from her grandfather!! Woah!! That’s the same relation! In both characters! I love when things are related!!

Okay, this clears up my question. On the casting on wikipedia it only mentioned one Grandmother and one Grandfather, but the different characters’ grandparents are played by the same actors.

Hurdy-gurdys are really cool. I’d link a video but I’m guessing that he’s going to play it later.

Wondering if these references to playing instruments might also be related to Malloy’s own experience, given that he plays instruments that I didn’t know existed in some of his shows and he mentioned earlier that a line was taken from something his grandmother said.

Oh that’s some really good dramatic irony. A character in a musical is saying that he’s merely a vessel. I don’t know whether that particular parallel was intentional, but I’m rather fond of it.

(planks)

Oh there’s fighting in this game? Animal Crossing got dark all of a sudden. Oh yeah I guess she did mention swords earlier. The possibility of the Wolf showing up and there being a boss fight is slim but Not Zero!

I love the harmonies on “chasing butterflies/doing jumping jacks/practicing for the jousting tournament!”

Self-aware! I love to see it. 

I think it’s real interesting how Sarah avoids contact with her ex but Sadie is looking for it. Wondering what the last pig will have. His name’s Beckett, right?

We plank! we plank! until our mind goes blank! I like the double meaning of plank here. Zippy’s working out and doing planks. Sadie’s character is a carpenter, and she’s building with planks to avoid her feelings in her isolation. PLANKTASTIC!!

(ritual)

Compulsions are often described as rituals. Just sayin.

I like the dissonance when she’s listing the things she needs to do. The way it climbs up the scale as it gets towards the end kind of reminds me of how sometimes video games will have success sounds that get higher as you accomplish successive tiers of tasks.

Gamifying your life is such a scam! I have ADHD and I’ve tried it to no success. You need like the correct amount of executive functioning anyway to execute the game plan, and when I have that it’s easier for me to just… Do the thing. 

I am a bit of a Jasmine myself sometimes. Communication is key. Eggs belong strictly on the middle shelf, though. And dishes need a place in the cupboard otherwise I’ll forget and have to open all of them. Recurrence of the climbing melody! Combined with the dissonance it really creates an atmosphere of building stress.

(mr lupus)

Lupus means Wolf in Latin.

OH MY GOD I WAS RIGHT!!!!! THE WOLF IS IN THE GAME!!! AND HE’S CAUSING ISSUES!!!

Oh my god he’s the capitalist overlord. That’s so incredibly funny. 

I’m sensing some comments on the internet in the vein of Octet. Octet focuses a lot on the victims of internet addiction, but Mr. Lupus seems to be representing more the tech CEOs benefiting off of our focus. He seems like a comment on the attention industry, saying “life is time and time is coins,” saying that Sadie’s value to him goes up when she spends more time on the app. Next thing you know he’ll be making you watch an ad.

So I’ll huff, and I’ll puff, and I’ll blow the house down!

Zippy’s voice here really reminds me of the companion characters in some of the psychological horror video games I’ve played. Bright and chirpy is such an annoying thing in regular video games, but when it’s contrasted with a horror element it’s really fun.

Okay, my headphones just died so I’m wrapping this episode up here. Geez this is a long show! It’s a lot shorter when you don’t analyze it, I guess, but I’m finding the analysis to really be leveling me out. I have a tendency to hyperfocus and get emotionally out of whack when I’m getting into a new work of art, and taking the time to stop and reason through things instead of experiencing it really helps with my emotional baseline. I can feel the hyperfixation demons at the corner of my brain but I can put them away and do other things.

[reidslovely]

Suggestion: Peter has feelings for a reader, but he acts like he doesn’t care because he’s so scared,,, Pure angst!

ahh!! finally got around to this cute little idea. it's not much but it's honest work.

please reblog/comment if you like this post!!

Being in love with someone for years is hard. Hiding it was harder. Especially with an individual who was as sensitive as Peter was. He remembers the exact day she moved into the neighborhood, it was only a handful of weeks after Uncle Ben died. He was still working on his own struggles, he was angry and bitter.

 But never around her. 

She was annoying and pestering in the best way possible, she got him out and did things with him. Even if it was just studying in the backyard, the sun did him somewhat well. Peter listened to her ramble about books she had read as they walked through the bookstore, him offering to carry the ones she picked out. He played the music she enjoyed in his earbuds when they’d share them on the walk or subway ride back. Every form of Peter was in love with her.

Seventeen year old Peter who was torn between two girls? In love with her. 

Bloodied Peter who was in pain and afraid to go home? He was in love with her. 

Peter who had convinced himself he was a killer and undeserving of love? With the way she held him, how could he not fall in love with her? 

It was astonishing to him how she hadn’t caught on. As a teen he thought his love and affection for her was perfectly clear, he was a bit annoyed how she wasn’t catching on. However, the older he got and the more he lost he decided it was for the best. To love her in secret, be her protector in the shadows. Watching her fall in love with everyone but him hurt less that way, if he acted like he didn’t care. 

“So..?” Her voice pulled his gaze off the robotic equipment in front of him and to her scantily clad figure. The dress was a deep purple and hung in the right places, he swallowed hard before nodding his head looking back at the project that awaited him. 

“Nice.” He nods, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye. She huffs and adjusts her dress in the hallway mirror, shifting between pulling the neck of the dress higher and lower. Peter’s gaze danced back over to her fully while she wasn’t paying attention. 

“Who's the lucky bachelor this weekend?” 

(Y/N) glanced at him in the mirror, and for the briefest of seconds he saw something flash across her face. She slid her jacket on and dropped their mirrored eye contact. “His name is Eddie. He goes to ESU and he’s a journalism major and works at the Bugle right now.” “Mhm he sounds nice, not douchey at all” 

“Well he’s more interested in me than any of the last few guys have been.”

 Breathy laughter through her nose shows her annoyance. He drops it. He wipes his hands on his pants and makes his way over to her, he stands behind her in the mirror and for the smallest part of a second they look like a couple. He thinks about what if he is missing out on, he thinks of what their future could be. 

Peter hugs her to his chest with one arm. Cheek pressed against the top of her head. “Be safe. Call me if you need me. I'll get there as fast as I can.” 

“I know, you always do.”

A knock on their front door pulled the two of them from their moment of what if. Peter opened the door and found himself standing up straighter coming face to face with a somewhat familiar face. 

Very douchey. 

“Is (Y/N) here?” Eddie asked looking around Peter who was quick to block his view. 

“She’s finishin’ up. What are your intentions tonight Brock?” 

“Nothing more than being a perfect gentleman, Parker. I’ll have your girlfriend back on time I promise.” Eddie laughs, (Y/N) rushed from the hall, her bag in hand smiling at Eddie. “Ready?” 

“Yeah.” She nodded excitedly, hugging Peter goodbye before shutting their door in his face. 

Similar to how he would as a child Peter threw a tantrum. He pushed the robotics project off the coffee table. Throwing himself down on the couch kicking the table moving it half across the room scuffing the wall. Again, similar to a child he must have fallen asleep after his tantrum because he woke up to his senses tingling, the hair on his body standing on end. He sat straight up looking around the room. This was bad. 

The door pushed open and Peter jumped up, (Y/N) stumbled through the door looking at Peter with tears in her eyes. No words had to be spoken, he engulfed her in his arms patting her hair down. 

“I know bugs, I know.” He sighs sitting her down on the couch. She clung to him, tears wetting his neck. “You’ll find the perfect person one day.” He assures. “I found him a long time ago..but you don't want me.” Peter knew what she meant, and he wishes he didn’t. He wishes he could trust himself to love her fully and the way she needed to be. Instead he wraps her legs around her holding her close, knowing it’s only hurting them more as he covers them up.

_________

tags: @helloheyhihowdyheya @a-lumos-in-the-nox @messymissy @sincericida

making a new taglist go to my intro post to find out how to be included!!!

[thatsmzbitchtoyou]

Tasty- Chapter 1

A new short series for y'all! Mostly smut with plot. #sorrynotsorry ;) Also can we talk about how fucking cute Tom Holland is?? As much as I do have love for Toby McGuire and Andrew Garfield, Tom is my fave. Enjoy!

Summary:  Peter just wanted to have one night of fun.  Then that night of fun almost killed him.  Now it won’t stop haunting him.  And he’s loving it.  *Curvy/plus size, female reader Warnings: mostly smut with plot, some physical pain

Next chapter

It was Peter’s 27th birthday.  His coworkers from his job at The Daily Bugle took him out to a local bar that had dancing bar girls.  It really wasn’t his kind of place, but he went along with it.  It was nice to go out for fun for a change rather than on patrol as Spiderman.  He drank the fifth drink shoved in his hand, the alcohol not doing a lot to his high metabolism thanks to the spider bite all those years ago.  He could drink anyone in the bar under the table.  As the night drew on and his coworkers became increasingly drunk he could feel a slight tipsy sensation edging his brain as they whooped and hollered at the bar girls dancing on the counter.  He had a feeling like someone was watching him and turned, looking around the bar until his eyes met a pair of black eyes staring back at him.

He felt a jolt of his spider sense run through him, making him blink and when he looked at the eyes again they were no longer black but Y/C/E.  Peter shook his head as he took in the rest of the figure.  A woman, shorter than him by just a few inches, curvaceous, and a hunger in her eyes as she stared at him that made him feel excitement mixed with a strange sense of fear.  She gave him a lopsided smile, a smirk that screamed danger, then licked her lips and bit her bottom lip as she gave him a long look up and down.  He wasn’t always one to initiate a flirtatious encounter but felt an urge to go to her.  Peter smirked back at her, shoving down the trepidation he felt and walked over to her.  Happy Birthday to me, he thought smugly.

Peter approached her and leaned up against the wall she was standing by.  “Hey,” he greeted her, hoping it sounded more ruggedly handsome than he thought.

“Hey,” she cooed back at him, her smirk deepening.  “What’s your name, handsome?”

“Peter.  What’s your name, beautiful?”

She giggled at his compliment.  “Y/N,” she said, offering her hand out to him.

He shook her hand but didn’t let go of it, instead twisting his fingers so that he loosely held onto her fingers as he gazed at her.  “You here alone, Y/N?”

“Yes,” she said, her fingers squeezing.  “Looks like you're here with some buddies.  Happy Birthday, by the way,” she turned her body to face him more.

“Oh, thanks,” Peter shrugged shyly.

“How old are you?” Y/N said as she took a small step toward him.

“27,” Peter’s eyes widened slightly as her face leaned towards him, the hand he was holding pulling his arm behind to her lower back and rested it at the top of her pants.  “How old are you?”

“A lady never reveals her age,” Y/N winked at him, her hand now running up his arm and lingering on his neck for a moment before playing with the hair at the nape of his neck softly.

“Sure, but a lady needs to be of drinking age,” Peter said a little more seriously, not wanting to get in any trouble.

Y/N laughed at that, her laugh dancing around in his head, making him feel giddy.  “Of course.  I’m 33,” she said.

“You like slightly younger guys?” Peter asked, his eyes narrowing at her teasingly.

“Sometimes,” Y/N said as she looked up at him through her lashes.  “You like slightly older women?”

“Love them,” Peter said as he leaned down, his nose gently bumping hers, making her smile widen.  She set her drink down on a nearby table and her other hand looped around his neck with the other one, her nails giving his head a good scratch.

“Hm,” she hummed, her eyes darting from his eyes to his lips and back.  “Can I give you a birthday present?”

“I love presents,” Peter said as he stared at her lips, his voice coming out as a husky grumble.

Y/N licked her lips again then pulled him down and kissed him.  Peter’s hand at her back fisted into her shirt, pulling her body closer to his as he deepened the kiss.  She blindly pushed him towards a dark part of the bar, turning so that he was pinning her against the corner of two walls.  His hands gripped her hips as she opened her mouth for her tongue to lick along his bottom lip.  He opened his mouth and tasted her back.  The kiss became increasingly frenzied, tongues licking frantically and nipping and sucking each other’s lips.  He moved to start kissing her neck but she stopped him and kissed his neck first, licking along his jugular roughly and sucking at it as her hands slid down his shoulders, one stopping at his upper back to keep him close and the other roaming down to his pants.

She slipped her fingers past his belt and under his underwear, her fingers grasping his cock and slowly pumping his shaft.  Peter almost buckled, his hands plastering against the walls to keep himself upright.  As she continued to stroke him she moved her lips back up to his mouth, lewdly kissing him then sucking on his tongue at the same speed she was stroking his cock.

Peter moaned loudly, his breathing erratic.  When she let go of his tongue he gritted his teeth and his hand dipped into his pants to stop her.  “Fuck, if you keep doing that I’m gonna cum.”

Y/N giggled.  “That’s kinda the point.”

“Not here,” Peter said, his eyes sweeping around them to make sure no one was looking.

“Your place or mine?” she asked, her tongue licking along his neck again.

Peter quickly pulled her outside and hailed a cab.  He gave the driver his address then turned to Y/N who was already pawing at him to pull him close again.  They made out in the cab, the driver turning the radio up louder so he couldn’t hear their moans or panting breaths.  As soon as the cab pulled up at Peter’s apartment complex he threw some bills at the driver then nearly ripped Y/N out of the car and towards the door.  They made out again in the lobby, the elevator, through the hallway until he was finally able to get his door unlocked.  Once he had closed it behind them he pushed her towards his bedroom, her hands pulling his shirt off.  They reached the bed and she pushed him down onto it first.  “Sit against the headboard, handsome,” she instructed him.  He quickly obeyed and moved himself up against the pillows.  “Good boy,” she praised him, cocking an eyebrow at him.  She slowly removed her shirt, revealing a lacy, bright red push-up bra.  Peter groaned at the sight.  She then pulled her pants down to reveal the matching lacy bottoms, her thighs jiggling as she got on the bed and started to crawl towards him.

“You smell so good, you know that?” Y/N whispered as she pulled his pants and underwear off.  

“Holy shit,” Peter whimpered as she laid down in between his legs.  Her hand returned to his cock, slowly stroking him again.

“I just wanna taste,” she glanced up at him, then licked the tip of his cock slowly.  Peter’s head fell back against the headboard, his hands gripping the blanket beneath him.  She wrapped her lips around the head of his cock and started slowly sucking him, her tongue licking around him as she bobbed her head up and down on him.  Peter had never been given such good head before.  His hips trembled as her fingers dug into his thighs, her head and mouth doing all the work.  She sunk her head down so far that he hit the back of her mouth and instead of gagging she just swallowed, the tip dipping down into her throat.  Peter shook, a deep moan falling past his lips.

“FUCK, how did you…ungh,” Peter whined as she pulled back up and gave him a hard suck before popping her lips off of him.

“Got your blood rushing,” Y/N sighed as she straddled his lap, her clothed pussy grinding down on his cock slowly.  “Feel good, handsome?”

“So good…so good Y/N, God,” Peter gripped her hips, helping her grind against him.

Her hands slid up his torso, giving his nipples playful flicks and tweaks that made him rut up against her.  She kissed him again, her tongue entangling with his again and giving it another suck as her hands then ran down his arms, pulling his wrists behind his back slowly.  “I can smell you…best thing I’ve smelled in a long time,” Y/N licked along the side of his mouth and down to his neck.  “Gonna taste you…you bloody tease,” she moaned as she sucked along his jugular again.

A part of Peter’s brain was screaming at him that something was wrong, the way she was talking about him smelling good was weird and abnormal, but his cock felt so good being rubbed by her underwear, her own wet arousal seeping through her panties onto him making his eyes roll back in his head.  One of her hands tightened around his wrists to keep his arms back, her other hand coming up to grip the back of his neck and pulling it further to the side.  “You gonna cum for me, handsome?”  She sniffed him as he nodded, his hips trying to thrust up into her harder.  “Cum for me,” her voice suddenly changed, a deep resonant command filling his head and making him feel more aroused than he had ever felt in his entire life.  It made him desperate as he felt his balls tighten and he tensed before his cum spurted onto her hips and his stomach.

Y/N suddenly hissed and bit him.  Peter’s mind short circuited.  The confusing mix of pleasure and pain made him jerk against her, his hands trying to pull out of her hold but her grip was unyielding.  His desperate moan as he came morphed into a yelp and grunt as he felt her teeth sink into his neck and she sucked at the vein.  His spider senses kicked into overdrive, making him panic as he tried to fight her off.  Y/N moaned deeply as she sucked from him, her hand at the back of his head almost ripping at his hair to keep him still as she drank from him.  Peter squirmed until he could feel himself start to get tired, his eyes fluttering as his strength depleted slowly.

“What the hell…?” he mumbled as the fight in him gave up.  His body slumped against the headboard.  His vision slowly blackened, the sound of her heavy breathing becoming distant until he was gone.

[theroseceleste]

Vampire Miguel - Part 6 - Now You See Me

The group of vampires work together to learn a new trick and there's trouble with the Daily Bugle, how will you negotiate it?

Minors DNI - Smut and descriptions of violence

Word count - 10,712

Contains - Confrontation with the boss. Smut - oral and penetrative sex

If you enjoy this work, please consider liking, commenting and re-blogging. Many thanks. xx

Enjoy xx

Pt 1 Pt 2 Pt 3 Pt 4 Pt 5

Miguel observes you as you lay in his bed, a content smile spreads across his face as he admires how comfortable you look. You’re sleeping soundly after another passionate evening shared between the both of you. He loves how your hair splays around your head on his pillow, how his sheets cover your naked body, accentuating your curves.

You turn on your side, facing him while you sleep.

He should get up soon; he has to contact Peter and tell him what’s been happening. Parts of him consider having the family of three stay in the shelter too, just to make sure everyone he knows and cares about is safe.

He leans over you as gently as possible so as to not wake you and tenderly plant kisses down your arm before climbing off the bed.

Clothes are all over the floor, making him chuckle slightly as he remembers how the pair of you tried to subtly enter his room without the others noticing. The moment his door was shut, you both were all over each other, ripping clothes off and kissing passionately.

He finds some new clothing to wear and puts his worn clothes in his washing hamper. This evening, he chooses a red, long-sleeved shirt which hugs him in all the right places. Once fully dressed, he quietly opens the door and shuts it, leaving you to sleep on in peace.

As usual, the youngsters have taken root at the communal area, all except one. Miguel steps out of his room and watches in a bemused manner as Miles figures out he can scale the walls.

“Hey, check this out. I’m like a spider!” he chuckles as he manages to get a little higher. The others all lazily turn their heads up to observe Miles. 

“~Spider-Man, Spider-Man. Does whatever a spider can. 

Spins a web, any size. Catches thieves just like flies. 

Look out! Here comes Spider-Man,~”

Miles makes up a super hero theme tune on the spot as he keeps climbing while most of the other youngsters laugh. Hobie, on the other hand, lets out a friendly scoff. “Spider-Man? Sounds bonkers mate.”

Pavitr turns around fully on the couch, kneeling on the cushions to take a look at Miles. “Ohhh, imagine! Slinging webs, swinging between buildings; the sky’s the limit,” he speaks with wonder as he spreads his arms wide gesturing to the vastness of the city skyline.

A cushion goes soaring through the air and smacks the back of Pavitr’s head as Miles jumps back down to the floor.

“Hey! Who threw that?” he asks as he grabs the cushion and looks accusingly at Hobie, who then points at Peni idly playing on a handheld gaming device. “You could have messed up my amazing hair!” he tosses the cushion at Peni which flies directly into her face as she drops her game in her lap.

“ACK!” she yelps as she springs up onto the couch, ready to launch the cushion back at Pavitr. Unfortunately for her, Miguel intercepts by seizing it and raises it up in the air, making her dangle below, kicking wildly.

“Pav; it was Hobie. I saw him,” he says to intervene.

A light growl comes from Peni who wrenches the offending cushion out of Miguel’s grasp and takes a swing at Hobie.

“Tch; snitch!” he retorts as he takes cover from Peni’s onslaught of attacks. Miguel shrugs and heads into the kitchen, leaving them to it while all the others join in with the hilarity and chaos in the communal area.

Lyla turns around after loading the washing machine as she hears Miguel enter the kitchen. Then, she folds her arms and leans against the wall, observing Miguel as he grabs a blood pack out of the fridge. “So? Spill the beans,” she says as she raises an expectant eyebrow while a yelp followed by a crash is heard from outside in the communal area.

He looks at her quizzically as he tosses the pack on a glass plate and shuts it in the microwave. “What do you mean?” he asks as the drum in the washing machine starts to spin, joining in with the sound of the microwave heating his meal. A cushion flies past the kitchen door.

“What really happened at Y/N’s home? You sly dog,” she grins and wiggles her eyebrows.

Apart from the constant noise of the kitchen appliances and the hooliganism going on outside, silence falls between the pair. Miguel, too, folds his arms and sits on the counter. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he replies coolly, doing his damndest not to appear flustered by dragging his phone out of his pocket to type a message to Peter.

A small fist bumps into Miguel’s arm, giving him a friendly nudge. “I saw you and Y/N sneaking into your room earlier. What happened in her apartment?” she grins.

“You’re a smart girl, I’m sure you can work it out,” Miguel sighs in defeat - the secret wasn’t going to remain one for long…

A shrill squeak of excitement erupts from Lyla which fills the tiny room before the microwave beeps. “~Miggy’s got a girlfriend!~” she grins and claps her hands together with glee.

Yanking the microwave door open, he takes out the plate and places it on the countertop to cool. “We’re not official or anything. I just really like her,” he admits as he finishes up messaging Peter and putting his phone back in his pocket.

“You really really like her though,” she grins again as now what seems to be a flurry of cushion feathers start fluttering into the kitchen.

Miguel’s gaze lowers as he presses his fingers against the pack of blood to feel how hot it is. “Yes, I do. Happy now?” he asks as he picks up his meal. “Go on; go to bed while I try to drink in peace - ‘try’ being the operative word with that rowdy lot outside…” he continues as he nods his head towards the communal area.

Lyla eyes the feathers scattered around on the floor. “They’re getting restless; being cooped up in here all the time,” she comments, sounding sympathetic. A frown spreads across her lips.

The vampire lets out a tired sigh. “I know, but here’s the safest place for them at the moment. Morbius is trying everything he can to get to me,” he pauses for a moment as he also looks at the feathers that have wafted into the kitchen. “I’ve told Peter to come here tonight, and instructed MJ and Mayday to travel here tomorrow during the day. I want everyone here where I can keep tabs on you all.”

His business partner nods in response. “Probably the smartest move,” she says as she stands up and unfolds her arms. With a wave of her hand she wishes Miguel good night and leaves the kitchen. “Right, which one of you rascals is buying a new cushion?”

You wake to feeling something much warmer than a blanket covering you. Before you open your eyes, you can tell Miguel has re-entered the room and climbed onto the bed. He nuzzles you gently and holds you close. A soft moan leaves your lips as you slip back into consciousness and nuzzle him back.

His chest is already bare. You can feel the warmth of his skin radiating against yours. It’s clear that he has had some blood to drink recently.

“Time to get up, mi dulzura,” he whispers to you, making you grumble and snuggle him more tightly.

“No…” you nuzzle against his thick neck, “just five more minutes…”

A faint smile spreads across his face. He wants to enjoy his time with you, however there is the underlying stress of what the new day will be bringing. “Okay, but you should get up soon,” he replies before delivering a tender kiss to the top of your head.

Begrudgingly, after a few minutes, you finally leave the bed, but you make the mistake of looking back at the beautiful man you’re abandoning under the sheets. Your heart flutters when you two lock eyes, as you consider maybe you can squeeze in a quick intimate and passionate moment before starting work. His body is simply irresistible… However, you fear that once you start, you will not be able to stop.

After getting dressed, you send a message to your boss to notify him that you’ll be working out of the office again. Then you sit back down on the bed, to give your new vampire lover a kiss before finding a quiet spot to work.

“Sweet dreams,” you whisper to him as your lips brush against his. Long, tanned fingers thread through strands of your hair as you feel his mouth respond to your light kisses.

“Have a good day, Y/N,” he whispers back.

The blissful moment shared between you both is suddenly rudely interrupted by your phone ringing. Looking at the screen, it says your boss is calling you. Perhaps his patience is wearing thin and wants you in the office.

You pick up your phone and answer it, feeling a slight pounding in your heart. “Morning Mr. Jameson,” you say, doing your best not to stutter.

“Y/N; care to tell me why there is a video of you on the internet opening fire at what looks to be a vampire? What’s going on? Explain; now.”

Miguel can immediately see that something is wrong. Your hands tremble so much that you nearly drop the phone.

“W-what?” you manage to choke out in surprise.

Your boss scoffs. “I know it’s you. That much is clear in the video.”

There’s a video? You ask yourself. How the hell do you negotiate this situation? “Mr. Jameson, I don’t know what video you’re referring to,” you ask, doing your best to sound as ignorant and innocent as possible, but your concerned gaze lands on Miguel, who’s eyes widen. After standing up from the bed, you search for your laptop in your bag with one hand while holding your phone to your ear.

“Oh, please, Y/N-”

“Send it to me,” you reply, sounding a little more commanding than you intended. Your laptop clacks down on Miguel’s desk before you open it and turn it on. The sound of the bed creaking tells you that Miguel is coming to take a look too, gathering his sheets around his hips.

“Alright…” Mr. Jameson replies, humouring you as you hear him type your email address and click send.

After your laptop boots up, you log in and immediately open your emails. Your boss’ email is sitting tauntingly at the very top of your inbox in large, bold, black text. A warm hand rests on your shoulder as you take a seat at the desk and open the email. Miguel, too, is very eager to see what this is all about.

You click on the link in the email from Mr. Jameson and it takes you to a YouTube channel called V-Tube. At first glance, it looks like a place that displays supposed proof that the creatures of the night exist. Except, in this case, the video in front of you is in fact, definite proof.

Silence falls on the line as you play the video. Sure enough, there you are, clinging onto Miguel on the back of a bike shooting at a winged creature. Thankfully, the camera angle doesn’t reveal Miguel’s face, but this does land you slap bang in the middle of a whole lot of trouble with your boss and potentially your job. There must have been a car that wasn’t involved in the chase, but a passenger within it witnessed the entire event and recorded it.

“Shit…” you hear Miguel mutter quietly behind you, he steps away and paces the room as he tries to think. Then, he grabs his phone and opens up a news app to check what’s being said there.

“Something’s going on, Y/N, and what I want to know is why aren’t you writing about this?”

You gulp. A lump has formed in your throat and doesn’t seem to want to go away.

“You’re not denying it then? Your involvement in this?” Mr. Jameson probes. How can you deny it? Your face is right there, in that video…

“I- last night I was out with my boyfriend,” you begin conjuring a lie; hopefully a believable one. Miguel turns to face you as you continue, partially because you called him your boyfriend. “We were attacked. I acted in self defence and I know nothing more about what we saw last night than you do.”

“Why would they be attacking you?” he asks, making you pause and panic.

“I don’t know. As far as I could see it was unprovoked. Perhaps a case of mistaken identity?”

Mr. Jameson sighs as he considers your words. He guesses what you said could be the truth… The brief silence is broken once more as he speaks. “Well, at least you’ve got something to write about. A perfect opportunity and your first hand experience will make an interesting read to say the least.”

Your heart lurches, of course he’s going to make that suggestion. “But I-“

“Not buts; I want you to write about this,” he growls as you swear you hear him hit his desk in frustration. “You can do some digging into these beasts too for future articles. Civilians need to know who they are truly residing with,” you hear a series of beeps in your ear coming from your phone, telling you that your boss has hung up. Your hand holding your mobile lowers as your eyes remain fixed on your laptop screen. What are you going to do?

Miguel comes over to see you again, still clutching his bed sheet around his hips. “What did he say?” he asks, his expression full of concern, eyebrows knitted together.

You turn back to look at him, your expression almost mirroring his. “Mr. Jameson wants me to write about what happened last night. Claiming that Nueva York citizens need to know about who else lives in the city,” you reply as you watch Miguel shake his head and turn away to begin pacing again.

“No. You’re not going to - you can’t.”

Placing your cell phone down on his desk, you stand up to meet him across the room. “I could warn the Daily Bugle readers about Morbius?” you offer as a suggestion but he looks back at you, his expression now looking more serious than concerned.

“And cause mass panic? Because that’s what your article will do,” he pauses before adding: “Or make them think you’re mad.”

“So, I just sit and do nothing?” you ask before you point at your laptop. “If I don’t write, I’m out of a job. Jameson has told me I have to write about last night,” as you speak, your voice cracks with emotion, concern and stress, desperate to find a middle ground that everyone can be happy with.

Miguel just simply looks at you, obstinate and resolute.

“You’ve said it yourself: Morbius is getting reckless. He wants to stop you from getting in his way. How far will he go to do that? How many people might die as collateral damage? People need to know,” you argue with passion, although you notice standing your ground against Miguel is actually rather frightening.

He stands silently for a moment before he looks away. “You’ll find another job, I’m sure,” his voice is barely above a whisper.

Your jaw drops at his response and your heart pounds. “That’s it?” you ask incredulously. “I’ll be forced to find another job because you say so?”

Miguel advances on you suddenly. “What’s going on is so much bigger than the Daily fucking Bugle!” he yells as one hand clasps your shoulder while the other remains on the sheet around his hips. “If you write anything to do with the existence of vampires, I promise you there will be pitchforks and lit torches before the day is done,” he gestures to his bedroom door. “Those kids out there, are under my protection. They are my responsibility. Even MayDay would be at risk - an infant!”

His words echo uncomfortably in your mind. You remember how he was treated when a small village found out about him being a vampire. How would an entire city respond? Or even potentially the world? It’s clear Miguel still has trouble with trusting humanity, and you can understand that whole-heartedly.

“What if Morbius doesn’t like what you write about vampires? You could be a target for a different reason other than simply being delectable. What if he targets the employees of the Daily Bugle in response? You want to risk that?” as he speaks, his eyes are wide, desperate to get his point across and for you to understand.

There is a moment where you both stare into each other’s eyes, passion burning brightly between you. As your heart pounds, your breathing quickens and your mind processing what feels like thousands of thoughts a minute.

“You think I’d be the only one writing about this?” you eventually ask as you rest your hand on his which still grips your shoulder. “Others will be looking at that video and writing about this for other newspapers. Whereas I was actually there,” you pause as Miguel pulls his hand away from your shoulder and sits down on the edge of his bed, resting his head in his hands.

“That video is out there for all to see. People know now, regardless of me writing or not-” Miguel looks up at you.

“Then why even bother?” he interjects.

You kneel down in front of him and grip his arms. “Because I can use my voice - or my words, in this case - for good!” you’re so desperate for him to see things from your side, you could shake him. “You should trust me not to write about the kids. I will only report on what is important and necessary.”

“People are going to believe whatever they want. If they want to believe that every vampire is dangerous that’s what they’re going to do,” his voice is low and resentful, but not towards you. You can guess he’s still hurting from the way he was treated all those years ago.

“Then I will feel glad that I have written about my first hand experience being with good vampires like you, who saved my life. I may not be able to convince everyone, but I have gained trust over the years of working for the Daily Bugle,” your hands squeeze his wrists slightly. “Let me use my influence to help sway people in your favour.”

For the first time in a few minutes, Miguel’s furrowed brows relax as a breath he didn’t know he was holding finally leaves his parted lips. He can see the determination in your eyes and it’s getting harder to argue against. Tiredness from a long night is making him cranky and maybe more liable to be uncooperative.

Wrapping his arms around you, he pulls you into his embrace as he lays back on his bed. He kisses the top of your head before he speaks. “I’m sorry,” he begins as he tightens his grip on you. “Do what you need to do. All I ask is, can I see what you write before you submit it?”

That is a fair request. You are going to be writing about him after all. Supporting your weight with your hands on either side of his head, you look down at him. “Of course. I will start working on it right away,” you answer, before bending down slightly to kiss him back. “But you get some sleep first and I’ll show it to you when you wake up later before I email it to Mr. Jameson.”

“Okay, I’ll sleep,” he replies before pulling you in for another kiss.

He finally relinquishes you and gets under his covers, hiding his beautiful body away.

It’s hard, but you tear your eyes away from him and return to your laptop.

Giving it further thought, you decide to write an open letter as you worry sensationalising the situation might make it be taken less seriously. As you type, the sounds of your keys softly clicking on the keyboard lulls Miguel off into a deep and restful sleep.

Occasionally, you hear his soft snoring, sounding so peaceful and about the furthest away from being a threat to Nueva York as he can possibly get. You have to do him and most other vampires justice, for his sake and for the kids.

It takes a little while to compose everything you wish to say. Every word is carefully considered with the vampire’s best interests in mind.

In the afternoon, you take a break and speak with Lyla, who has spent most of the morning running errands and preparing the shelter for the arrival of MJ and MayDay.

It’s becoming abundantly clear that last night’s events scared Miguel. The fact he is calling in anyone who is associated with him shows that he thinks Morbius is a much bigger threat now than he ever was. If anything happens to anyone he has hidden away in this shelter, he most likely would never forgive himself. You know he holds himself responsible for not finishing Morbius off when he had the chance, and you suspect it eats away at him every single day.

During your break, you help set up a room for the family of three to share before MJ and MayDay arrive. You look forward to seeing that sweet little girl again; you’re certain she’s going to make living in the shelter much more entertaining.

By the time you are done with writing your open letter, Miguel stirs in his sleep, a soft groan comes out from a pile of pillows.

“Evening,” you call out as the mound under the blankets pillows wriggles. “I think I’m nearly done if you want to come and check it out.”

The sleepy monster finally rises from the land of slumber, stretching and yawning with dishevelled hair poking out in all angles. “Alright, I’m coming…” he replies, his voice sounding croaky as he emerges completely from under the blankets.

After getting some boxers and dark jeans on, he stands behind you, eager to read what you have written. The warmth of his chest beats down on you as he leans over to take a look.

“From The Horse's Mouth,

In the last twenty-four hours, a video has surfaced on the internet displaying winged creatures attacking me - yes, that’s right, me and a friend. I’m writing this to confirm that this is in fact true and not some kind of doctored footage. I am writing this to provide my story of what actually happened.

The truth is, I have very recently discovered that vampires do indeed exist. Just the other night, I found myself in the jaws - quite literally, of a vampire. That was until the man shown on the bike with me came to my rescue.

I went from living in complete ignorant bliss about vampires to being surrounded by them. Let me be crystal clear, I do not feel unsafe in their midst. In fact, they are simply humans who have recently been turned and wish to live in peace.

Just like humans, there are indeed bad vampires too. And I want to take this opportunity to warn as many as I can that there are several roaming the city. Following the orders of the one I was rescued from. His sights are set squarely on my hero, but I must stress that everyone must remain vigilant.

Do not engage with anyone you do not know more than you need to; no matter how charming they appear to be. If you have to be out at night, or travelling via the subway, be sure to have a trusted companion with you, or if that is not possible, stay away from quiet and secluded areas.

Stay safe.

Y/N, Daily Bugle”

As Miguel reads your open letter, a small smile spreads across his face. Relaxing over the fact you have written the vampires he is protecting in a good light. You are right. The cat is out of the bag, as he feared last night, and people will believe if this is real, or a hoax, or if vampires are good or bad. What you have written won’t make matters worse, but maybe help relieve the situation. And in doing so, you are keeping your boss happy too.

He pats your shoulder and then gives it a firm squeeze. “That sounds fine, Y/N. Thank you, and I’m sorry for being so stubborn with you this morning.”

Looking up at him, you spur him on to lean down and give you a kiss on the forehead. “It’s alright, I understand why you were reluctant,” you reply before looking back down at your screen and preparing it to be sent to Mr. Jameson.

The communal area has never looked so full. Twelve people are now living in the shelter and are in danger of completely cramming the couches. To allow people to spread out, Lyla and Miguel have dragged over some spare mattresses to provide extra sitting places.

On one sofa, you, Lyla and MJ all sit together eating a meal that was pre-prepared by MJ. On another couch, Gwen and Pavitr chat to one another animatedly, while Margo and Miles attempt to backseat game as they watch Peni play her gaming device on the third couch.

One of the mattresses in the communal area is littered with children’s toys as Peter plays with a wide-eyed MayDay. She giggles infectiously as her tower of stackable blocks falls down for the umpteenth time that evening.

In the corner, next to several crates, Hobie sits as he inspects the blades he acquired from the vampire he shot the night before. MJ had banished him there as she knew MayDay would likely want to get involved.

As he half unsheathes one of the swords, he hums the annoyingly catchy tune Miles came up with earlier as he scaled the walls.

The metal of the blade is indeed silver, and he makes a note to get hold of some leather gloves so he can handle them properly. For now though, they should be hidden away and out of reach from certain inquisitive little dhampirs…

As Miguel clears his throat to address the rest of the shelter’s occupants, Hobie struts past to put the weapons away in his shared room.

“Alright, listen up,” he starts as he speaks to everyone, but mostly the other vampires. He begins again when he has almost everyone’s attention. “In my recent run-ins with Morbius, his vampire-mist ability is proving killing him practically impossible. If I’m to learn how to do it and play him at his own game. I think you lot should too-”

“Vampire-mist?” Pavitr repeats in surprise, “we can do that?” he asks with intrigue and wonder as MayDay starts to fly away from Peter’s grasping hands.

Miguel nods. “If Morbius can do it, we can too. Just need to work out how,” he says, ducking out of the child’s flight path as her little wings carry her up to the ceiling behind him.

“Uh, MayDay, honey, come back down…” Peter calls out, his eyes fixed on his daughter as he gets up and scales the wall to reach her.

“What is it exactly?” Margo speaks up with interest as she nudges Peni to make her put her gaming device down.

Before Miguel answers, Hobie comes back out of his room and returns to the communal area, observing and smirking at the shenanigans between Peter and MayDay on the ceiling.

“It’s a form of teleportation. It’s an annoying habit of Morbius’s to use as a method of getting himself out of trouble. He’s engulfed by black mist before vanishing entirely,” he explains, trying hard not to sound too sore about his missed opportunity to kill Morbius two nights ago.

 “Sounds neat. But why do you want us to learn it too?” Miles asks as Gwen and Margo nod in agreement to his question.

“It’ll be beneficial to us all, for self-defence…” Miguel’s voice drones on as he answers Miles’ question.

At the same time, Peter scrabbles about on the ceiling as MayDay slips between his arms, swooping left and right. MJ squeals as she peeps through the gaps of her fingers, no longer paying attention to Miguel.

Peter manages to catch MayDay and triumphantly holds her below his head as he stands upside down from the ceiling. “Gotcha!”

Simultaneously, Miguel turns around wondering what the fuss is all about. His eyes go wide as he walks right into Peter’s face and their lips connect in an unexpected kiss...

Time seems to have frozen in that moment of shock. Both you and MJ nearly choke on your food as Lyla bursts out laughing with the rest of the vampires.

Miguel tears his face away from Peter, spluttering and wiping his mouth with the back of his hands. His wide red eyes twitch as a chorus of laughter behind him fills the long hallway of the abandoned train station.

Peter chuckles as he finally gets himself back onto the floor. “What? I’m not that bad of a kisser, am I?” he asks as he holds an excitedly babbling MayDay in his arms while MJ facepalms with embarrassment on the couch.

With a heavy sigh, Miguel pinches the bridge of his nose as Peter returns to the mattress.

“MJ, you like my kisses, right?” he asks as he sits back down.

“I do, but not everybody does, I’d expect,” she answers wryly.

Once the hilarity has died down, you, Lyla and MJ head to bed. As you enter Miguel’s room, he follows you and wraps you up in his embrace. His lips brush against yours tenderly and sweetly before capturing them completely.

Your hands splayed across his chest as your fingertips traverse over his defined torso.

Reluctantly, Miguel pulls away, ending the kiss before resting his forehead against yours. “I just wanted my last kiss of the day to be with you, mi dulzura,” he whispers as he nuzzles you, rubbing his nose against yours.

His words and his actions are so sweet and loving. It makes your heart flutter and you’re amazed that so much has changed between the both of you in such a short amount of time. Perhaps the drama you both have gone through together over the last forty-eight hours have brought you together and strengthened your bond so quickly.

You nuzzle him back before stealing another quick kiss but a bright smile shines across your face. A chuckle fills the room before you speak. “You haven’t kissed someone for two hundred years and now you’ve kissed two people in as many days.”

His hand taps you lightly on your rear as if it was aimed to be a little spank. Then, he holds you closer. “But you’re the only one who makes me hard.”

A sudden deep, hot pulse radiates from your core at his words. And sure enough, as he holds you close, you can feel him throbbing against you through his clothes. You bite your lip as you look up at him, making him smirk.

Miguel presses a tender kiss against your forehead as his hands gently rest on your shoulders. “Hmm… food for thought before you fall asleep?” he chuckles as you pout slightly. “I’ve got to concentrate on learning Morbius’s little trick.”

You relent and relax the pleading puppy-dog expression and trembling pout, as you understand that Miguel has more important things to focus on. Anything he can learn to improve his abilities as a vampire could make a vast difference to the outcome of their next inevitable clash.

Before wishing you goodnight, he buries his face against the crook of your neck and takes a deep breath. A contented sigh leaves his lips as your scent gives him a buzz of determination.

“So, how are we going to try and learn this vampire-mist thing when nobody here knows how to do it?” Miles asks once all vampires congregate back in the communal area.

Gwen contemplates for a moment as she sits back on a couch. “Maybe it’s a mental thing? Turning into mist when calm?” she offers as a suggestion.

“Morbius can do it when he’s about to be killed, I don’t think he’s calm all the time when he does it,” Miguel replies as he rests his hands on his hips.

Pavitr sits up from lazing on another couch. “It’s an act of necessity,” he says as if a lightbulb has just been switched on in his mind. “The need for self-preservation or to avoid a situation Morbius doesn’t want to be in triggers the ability.”

Everyone falls silent, considering Pavitr’s thinking out loud. A faint rumble can be heard in a neighbouring tunnel as a train passes through.

Hobie shrugs with folded arms, leaning against a wall. “Makes sense,” he says as his lazy gaze wanders over to Miguel who is still thinking.

“Oh! Gwen; throw a cushion at me!” Pavitr exclaims with urgency.

Miguel looks up. “It’s not time to screw around, guys,” he retorts, but as he speaks, he watches Gwen expertly sling a cushion through the air, directly at Pavitr’s face. And to his absolute surprise, Pav vanishes in a cloud of black mist and the cushion flies cleanly through it, landing among some crates behind the couch.

Everyone but Miguel throws their arms up in the air in shock and disbelief that it worked for Pavitr first time round. A loud chorus of stunned laughter and cheers fill the room before the young vampire steps out of his room and rejoins the excited crowd.

“H-How did you…?” Miguel asks with a bewildered expression on his face, a very slight twitch evident in his eye.

“Easy!” Pavitr replies as Hobie gives him a celebratory pat on the back. “I didn’t want the cushion to mess up my hair,” he answers as he runs his fingers through his voluminous black locks.

“Look at you; being smart and fashionable while you do it.” It is now Peter’s turn to clap Pavitr on the back before he faces Miguel. “Looks like we have our answer,” he says as the other vampires start pairing up to try and make the other vanish.

Along the stretch of subway station that once had a constant flow of people all day every day stands pairings of vampires, teaming up to learn this interesting trick. Miles partners up with Gwen, Hobie, with Pavitr, Margo, with Peni and finally Miguel stands before Peter.

They try throwing punches or kicks at each other to see if they can trigger the vampire-mist response. For some, it isn’t quite so easy to do.

“Come on, Miles. You can throw a harder punch than that,” Gwen goads as she dodges a feeble attack.

“I don’t like the idea of hitting you,” he grunts as he takes another reluctant swing. “Besides, you’re not meant to be dodging them!” Frustration rises within him as Gwen steps aside once more.

“As Pav says, it’s an ability used out of necessity,” she says as she blocks Miles’ punch and raises her own fist. “I haven’t needed to use it.” Her clenched hand swings fast, aiming right towards Miles’ face giving him no time to duck. His eyes widen as he yelps before he disappears and reappears behind Gwen who’s now enveloped in mist.

“You nearly hit me!” Miles exclaims in shock before he realises what he’s just accomplished. He steps forward and shoves at Gwen, springing her forward and almost stumbling headlong into a wall. However, she never hits it as she, too, bursts into mist and reappears safely standing upright next to Miles. The pair of them stare at each other in silent surprise.

After already mastering the technique, Pav spends more time focusing on getting Hobie to work it out. He squints cheekily as he plans his next steps of action. Instead of trying to fight Hobie, he hounds him with questions and compliments about his appearance. “You have an impressive collection of badges my guy,” he says as he reaches out to touch a badge that’s pinned firmly in the leather of his sleeveless-jacket.

A hand swiftly swipes away Pavitr’s hand. “Nah-ah; hands off bruv,” Hobie warns as he corrects his badge, twisting it so it’s just how he likes it.

Pav grins widely. He’s spotted a weakness. In a flurry of fast movements, he reaches for the several shiny objects adorning Hobie’s clothing. “How many do you have? What does this one say? Where did you get this one from? Does that say, PM can suck my d-“ (PM = Prime Minister) Pavitr suddenly chokes on swirling black mist as Hobie vanishes before throwing his arms in the air with joy.

It isn’t long afterwards that Margo and Peni both learn how to do it too. Miguel growls with irritation as he sees the six youngsters work it out while he still struggles with Peter. It seems he has the chattiest partner, having almost a full-blown conversation with himself about how adorable MayDay is between throwing punches at Miguel.

Frustration builds gradually as he understands the concept of what’s needed but he realises he’s hardwired into acting with physical self defence, overriding any urge to vanish. “GAH! For fuck sake; what’s the use?” he lashes out and kicks a crate.

Peter’s shoulders slump with disappointment as it seems Miguel wasn’t exactly listening to his talk about his daughter. “Relax, Miguel. It’ll come to you. Just keep trying.”

“Forget it!” he huffs, turning his back on the rest of the room, pinching the bridge of his nose.

As an awkward silence descends upon the room, Pavitr waves to Peter to get his attention and leans in to whisper in his ear. His instruction is met with a grin and a definite nod.

An arm rests on top of Miguel’s broad shoulders as a hand pats him. “Maybe just take a breather,” Peter says softly, as he leans in to kiss him.

Miguel’s eyes widen in panic at the sudden invasion of personal space and to his surprise, he finds himself in his own room in a blink of an eye. He has done it. A yell of elation nearly erupts from his lips, but he sees you, sleeping peacefully in his bed. Instead, he hears the other vampires cheer outside.

“Well done,” Peter says as he pats Miguel’s shoulder after he re-emerges from his room. “Don’t worry. No more unsolicited kisses from me; I promise.”

Miguel huffs with a slight smile of disbelief over his achievement. “Thanks,” he says. “Probably for the best,” he looks down at Peter. “Your turn to learn, now.”

Peter pulls his hand away from Miguel. “Me?” he laughs suddenly. “I learned that trick ages ago. Back when MJ nearly caught me doing something I shouldn’t have been.”

Miguel’s smile drops. “What?” he asks as he tilts his head questioningly, almost like a confused dog. “Y-You’ve known how to do it all along?”

A wide grin forms on Peter’s face. “Yep. But making everyone learn it from scratch has got the younger ones busy and focused on something other than being bored hooligans.”

Looking around the shelter, Miguel observes everyone standing and talking; not lounging around lazily on the communal couches. They all look animated, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed.

A smile spreads across Miguel’s lips as he understands Peter’s logic. “Fair enough. Thanks.”

For peace and quiet, he enters the kitchen and pulls out his phone to take a look at the news. It has now been over twenty-four hours since the news broke out with the video showing you both fleeing and shooting at beastly creatures. His large thumb brushes up his phone’s screen, scrolling for any update until a headline catches his attention.

“Government Officials Claim the Video is Fake.”

Of course the government would say that, but he can’t deny feeling a little more at ease about it. He hopes it will quell any nervousness amongst the citizens of Nueva York.

A soft nuzzling feeling against your neck slowly awakens you. Miguel is back in the bed, being big-spoon and holding you close. The warmth of his bare chest pressing against your back makes you feel safe and relaxed. He sniffs you before leaning his head against yours, letting out a contented sigh.

You raise your hand to cup his face that is next to yours, your fingertips nestling in his silky hair. “Good morning,” you say huskily as your throat tries to wake up from a night of snoring and deep breathing.

Miguel’s body presses against yours again, completely flush as his arms snake around you. “Morning,” he almost coos back, his breath brushing hotly over your ear.

“I didn’t feel you climb into bed,” you reply, your voice sounding a little more clear.

The feeling of his body clinging onto you like a limpet stuck on a rock on a beach makes you smile, if not turning you on slightly. You find it hard to resist pushing your rear back against his naked pelvis to tease him.

“Because I didn’t, mi dulzura,” he whispers as he thrusts his hips forwards slightly like he can read your mind.

It takes you a minute to work it out - mostly because his hips distract you - but finally the penny drops. Suddenly you turn to face him, your eyes wide. “You worked it out?” Your question is met with a small smile, carrying a hint of pride.

“Yes. Helped by an unusual method by Pavitr, but it did the trick.”

You throw your arms around him and roll him onto his back - a position he rather gladly accepts, his large hands resting on your hips. “Well done! I’m so pleased for you,” you say as you smother him with kisses all over his face before his lips catch yours.

Silence descends upon the room, only being broken by the faint sounds of your intimate moment or sweet moans between the two of you. The way his hands move over your body as he gently pushes his hips up against yours, slowly grinding his growing erection along your unclothed entrance.

Your brows furrow as your need for him skyrockets, and you tilt your hips for him to have an easier angle to enter you.

Another moan leaves your lips when you feel the head of his shaft breaching your slicked folds, squeezing past the tight ring.

Just as you’re about to take the plunge and sink down on him completely, the heat of your passion instantly plummets to subzero temperatures when you hear your phone buzz with an incoming call. You hesitate for a moment, your hips stuttering over Miguel, making him groan needily.

“Ignore it,” he grunts as he grabs your hips.

Looking at the screen, you see it’s your boss, making you pull away. “It’s Jameson…” you mumble nervously as you crawl along the bed, leaving an exceedingly horny Miguel behind you. He rolls over to his front on the bed with a groan of indignant protest and proceeds to grind against the mattress to alleviate his building arousal.

“Mr. Jameson?” you answer the call with mounting curiosity as you sit on the side of the bed, the cool air of Miguel’s room embracing you now you’re out from the covers and away from his body.

“Uh, morning, Y/N,” your boss responds, his usual pushy and demanding demeanour now replaced with something similar to nervousness and uncertainty. With the way he sounds, you get a clear image in your mind of him looking rather pale, as if he has seen a ghost.

You’re not sure how you feel about this change. While you’re not fond of his normal behaviour, this new one doesn’t exactly fill you with confidence either.

“Listen; I’m going to have to ask you to step down from writing for the Daily Bugle - just for a little while,” Mr. Jameson begins to explain.

An uncomfortable pounding in your chest starts after he speaks. “What? Why?” The tone of your voice makes Miguel look up at you with concern, forgetting how you just unintentionally blue balled him.

“It’s not my decision exactly-“ he tries to continue but you interrupt.

“What do you mean?”

“The government has asked me to suspend you for writing your open letter yesterday,” Jameson blurts out at you in response.

Your blood runs cold. The government is involved now? However your blood doesn’t run cold for long as you remember who pushed you to write the now seemingly offensive piece. It now feels like fire burning within your veins as you try to gather the right words to speak. “This… This isn’t fair, you-“

“It’s out of my hands, Y/N.”

“You told me to write it! Did you fail to mention that nugget of information to the government?”

“No- I-“ Jameson splutters.

“Just as I thought,” you snap back.

Only listening to half of the conversation, Miguel can still tell something is wrong, and when you mention the government, he starts to worry. Quickly, he peels his body off of the mattress and shuffles his way over to you to put a comforting arm around your shoulders.

“I know you’re mad-“ Mr. Jameson tries to placate the situation, but you’re now feeling unstoppable.

“Damn right, I’m mad! You played a part in this open letter too, but you don’t face suspension? How convenient,” as you speak, you find yourself surprised that you’re able to do this. You’d never say boo to a goose, but at this moment, you’re ripping into your boss, letting him have a piece of your mind. Confrontation and you don’t usually mix, and it becomes rather apparent as your body starts to shudder. Miguel feels it under his arm, spurring him to wrap it around you tighter, keeping you warm and strengthening your resolve.

Mr. Jameson has always been a bully. You told yourself that he was under pressure from higher-ups to keep his division of the Daily Bugle running like a well-oiled machine to excuse his shitty attitude towards you. But now, you’ve finally had enough of how he makes you feel when you work for him. This is the last straw.

“Watch your tone, Y/N,” Jameson’s demeanour seems to be shifting back to how he usually is with you, only serving to fuel the roaring fire within.

“You know what, Jameson? Fuck you. Fuck you and the Daily Bugle,” with that, you rip your phone away from your ear and jab angrily at the end call button on the screen, making a loud tap.

A wave of cold seems to wash over you again for a moment as the fire dies down inside. But you feel relief as Miguel scoops you up and places you in his lap, wrapping his arms around you tightly.

There is no need to ask what happened, he understood the gist of it, and hearing you say ‘fuck you’ to your boss and the company you work for pretty much sounds like you’ve just quit. “It’s okay,” he whispers to you as he rocks you back and forth in his arms.

“Is it?” you ask, your voice shaking slightly with the stress of the confrontation. “I’ve just thrown my job away because of my boss being a monumental d-”

“Oooookay, mi dulzura,” he interjects as he tightens his grip around you. “I know. But you’ll get back up on your feet. I’m sure you will. The Daily Bugle doesn’t deserve you,” his voice is soft and calming as his fingers thread through your hair. Every gentle stroke he gives you soothes the furnace inside.

Eventually, he feels you relax into his embrace, producing a contented smile on his face. He thinks to himself that the cuddle he has you locked in will be so much better for the both of you if you’re ensconced under his covers with him. It’s not like you have work to do today.

Gently, he lifts you back into bed and lays next to you. The warmth of his body mixes in with the duvet that he pulls it over you both.

Miguel’s words echo in your mind as he hides you away from the world. He’s right. The Daily Bugle doesn’t deserve you. You have no idea what you’ll do instead, but at least your sanity will no longer be tested on a daily basis working for a man like Jameson.

You feel so warm in the cocoon that is his arms and his duvet. It’s impossible to hide the smile on your face as you feel him nuzzling and kissing your cheek. And soon, your troubles are temporarily forgotten about as you feel his hand slither its way down your body, the warm pads of his middle and fourth fingers gently running tight circles on your clit.

A gasp escapes your parted lips as his tender stroking re-awakens your core. The heat of mounting arousal spreads throughout your body in pulses with every revolution of his fingers.

Eventually, he feels moisture at the trough of every circular stroke, lubricating his touch, letting his digits slide over your sensitive bud.

You mewl needily for more as your inner walls start to clamp on nothing. Your body, begging to be filled, craving him.

Miguel licks his lips as a thought crosses his mind. “I want to taste you, mi dulzura,” he whispers to you, spurring you to obediently tilt your head to one side before you even really think about it properly.

He shakes his head with a smile. “Not there,” he mumbles with a smirk. “Here,” Miguel’s fingers slip down from your clit, making you moan louder as he halts that sweet stimulation and slides inside you. “Damn, you’re so wet. Please, let me have a taste.”

Just the thought of having his head down there between your legs makes your heart flutter. Then you add the feeling that your mind can conjure of his tongue lapping at your entrance and flicking around your clit. On top of that, you imagine his moans as he hopefully enjoys the taste of you. Of course you’re not going to deny him that experience. You nod to give him the go ahead and you’re met with a seductive grin.

“I can’t wait to see if your arousal tastes as sweet as your blood,” he coos as he begins his descent down your body. His plump lips plant tender kisses along the way.

Miguel’s hands grip you under your thighs and open your legs wide for him, revealing such an enticing sight.

In no time at all, his mouth is now lavishing attention to your tender inner-thigh. This sensation alone is enough to drive you wild.

“So soft…” he purrs with delight. “I’d like to try feeding from here sometime…” he murmurs against your supple flesh as his lips travel higher to the tendon between your thigh and your heat. Light and gentle nibbles are felt along it, making you moan and writhe. How can something feel so good but equally unbearable?

Fingers dig into your flesh as Miguel holds your legs apart before you feel the delicate teasing from his tongue flicking and circling around your sensitive bud. He instantly moans as soon as his taste buds register your essence. The vibrations of his appreciation only serve to heighten your arousal.

He pauses momentarily, making you think he’s about to compliment your taste, but he doesn’t waste his time. Diving in completely, his lips and tongue attack your drenched folds before letting out an incredible groan. No compliments necessary. There is fervour behind his actions, acting as though he is a man starved.

Your fingers clench the bed sheets as Miguel continues his onslaught between your legs, alternating between lapping at your entrance and teasing your clit while moaning. Every time you wriggle and writhe, he fights you to keep you still. “M-Miguel~” you moan urgently as his time on your sensitive bud is starting to feel particularly exquisite.

Knowing that you can feel that tightening in your lower abdomen, he chases your climax down by latching onto your clit and teases it mercilessly. His tongue flicks and swirls around it as he starts to suck, making your back arch and cry out his name again.

To make sure there is no danger of him moving away, you release one of your hands off the bed sheet and grasp the locks of his slicked-back, dark-brown hair. “Yes…” you hiss with pleasure. “Like that, mhmmm…” you encourage him to keep going.

He nods between your legs, only adding to the stimulation, driving you even closer to your release. He can tell you’re approaching the edge, your body’s reaction is indication enough.

Miguel re-captures your swollen bundle of nerves with his lips after flicking it wildly with his tongue and groans deeply into your flesh for his one last bid to push you over the edge.

Your eyes roll to the top of your head, the moment your orgasm hits. A loud moan erupts from your parted lips as your body writhes uncontrollably under the strong influence of your pleasure.

He pushes on, continuing to lavish your throbbing clit with attention through your climax until your mewls turn into high-pitched squeals. And when he can sense that it’s too much for you, he releases you before eating you out once more, coating his tongue in your fresh wave of arousal, languidly lapping between your soaked folds.

“I could eat you out,” Miguel begins before licking at you hungrily again for a few seconds and pulls away once more, “all day, mi dulzura.”

He glances up at you while you pant and look a little dazed from the mind-blowing orgasm he has just put you through. A smirk spreads across his face. “But I need to feel you wrapped tightly around me too,” he crawls up the bed, over the top of you and nestles himself between your legs. “Is that what you want, too? To take me deep inside?”

Once again, the image his words paint in your mind makes you ripple beneath him. Your hips bucking upwards slightly, seeking penetration, searching for the warmth of his hardened length. “Yes, please…” you moan for him as your need to be stretched around his cock increases exponentially.

After two recent nights of intimacy between the both of you, Miguel has already grown accustomed to the sensation of making love with someone again - not like it was ever a problem for you in the first place.

His hand travels down between the both of you to get himself positioned at your entrance. The tip of his member glistens as his pre-cum mixes with your arousal while he teases it up and down between your folds.

Another uncontrollable buck of your hips briefly pushes him in further, making the both of you gasp and moan.

The helping hand now returns to the side of your head before he begins to bury himself inside while he watches you dissolve with pleasure again. His breath dances across your face as he sinks deeper and deeper until he bottoms out.

“You feel so damn good, mi dulzura…” Miguel grunts as he draws his hips back again before starting a steady rhythm of thrusts.

Miguel is by far the biggest you’ve ever had, and you feel so full with him inside, taking up every inch and stretching your walls around him. Not only does he feel incredible, he also looks good on top of you. His perfectly defined form flexing with every movement, and his stunning face etched in pleasure is just the perfect picture to be looking up at while your head is swimming in a haze.

With every strong pump of his hips, he drags his pelvis against yours, generating lusty moans and groans between the both of you.

You feel the sheet either side of your head crumple as he screws his hands into fists.

While you pant heavily, your left hand rises up to the back of his head, tugging at his hair, while your right caresses from his red spider tattoo on his neck down his chest, abs and finally coming to a rest on the small of his back. You feel how his hips thrust that extra bit further forward at the peak of each pump, making your jaw drop as the sensation gets you closer to losing your mind.

“Mhmmm…” you mewl between heavy breaths. He’s so deep inside you that it feels like his tip is kissing your cervix, making you yelp slightly with a little bit of pain mixing in with your irresistible pleasure.

“You like that, mi dulzura? You like how deep I am inside?” Miguel huffs as he maintains his movements, his heavily-lidded red eyes gaze down upon you. He feels your hand pulling him in more with each thrust, and he adds more emphasis and grins widely when he watches you melt further into his mattress.

Every thrust is attentive and fluid in motion, his rhythm is steady and resolute while his movements drive you closer to a second climax.

“I want to feel you clench on me,” he growls into your ear as he lowers his body closer to yours, turning up the heat between you several notches. “Come undone for me again, mi dulzura.”

His words make you feel like they have control over you, or you just simply enjoy him talking dirty while balls deep inside you. Encouraging you to fall over the edge for him. Every word, every syllable sends tingles around your body and winds an invisible key that tightens your walls, building up your next orgasm.

A triumphant smile spreads across his face as he feels that sensation for himself inside you. He can tell you’re close. Your breathing has become quicker and more shallow. “That’s it,” he pants more heavily, his breath hot against your cheek. “Let go, mi dulzura.”

Your back arches tremendously as your body ignites with pleasure for a second time that morning. The combined noises of your moans and his groans fill the air as you release together. Your low spirits certainly feel lifted after Miguel’s skillful treatment.

The pair of you lay together, still intertwined as the remnants of your shared climaxes slowly ebb away and the afterglow begins.

He kisses you tenderly while keeping you trapped below him. His lips wander slowly around your face until they finally meet yours. After pulling away again, he begins to mumble to you. “You are a smart, intelligent woman. Any new workplace should consider themselves lucky having you. I’m sure you’ll find something soon to replace the Daily Bugle,” his voice is soft as his breath plays across your skin.

You pull him close, letting his head rest on your chest, allowing him that sweet treat of him listening to your heart. He settles against you a little more, but is mindful not to squash you.

Before he falls asleep, he lets you go. Allowing you to get up and enjoy your day. Being trapped underneath a weighty vampire is only fun for a little while. Although, he would love to have you around him all the time as his sweet smelling and tasting human. You nourish him in not only your blood sometimes, but with affection and indulge him with experiences he thought he’d never experience again. To say that he thinks of you as a keeper, is an understatement.

The following evening, the vampires have arisen once again while you, Lyla and MJ wind down before bed time.

In hushed tones, Miguel and Peter speak to one another in a quieter part of the shelter.

“I’m telling you Miguel, I want to be involved in bringing Morbius down-”

“No. It’s too dangerous. It’s my fault he’s still around,” Miguel interjects, desperately trying to close off the subject.

Now armed with the vampire-mist ability, he has a much better chance at catching Morbius off guard and destroying him. He wants it to be swift and as subtle as possible. But first he has to draw up a plan.

Miguel thought it was a good idea to involve Peter with gathering ideas, but now a minor argument is unfolding instead.

“You’re not alone this time, Miguel. Stop acting like you have to be the one to fix this mess. In fact, if I asked everyone here, I bet they’d want a piece of Morbius too-”

“No!” Miguel snaps while maintaining a relatively quiet voice. “Don’t you dare ask them,” he hisses while he fruitlessly reaches out to grab Peter as he steps away.

“Hey guys,” he calls out, gathering everyone’s attention in the communal part of the shelter. “Who’s up for taking Morbius down?” he continues as he receives a heavy nudge from Miguel.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” he growls subtly to Peter.

Silence falls upon the old subway station as everyone looks at the two men. Finally, Hobie stands and straightens his leather jacket, his badges glinting under the light above. “Thought you’d never ask.”

After seeing Hobie go first, Gwen stands with him, her face full of determination. To Miguel’s surprise, he watches the entire collection of vampires stand until Peni makes a move.

“No, absolutely not. You’re just a child. In fact most of you are, technically. I can’t allow this,” Miguel shakes his head and starts to pace the room.

“All of us want a go at taking him down, Miguel,” Peter continues his argument, however he speaks in a more calm tone.

An exasperated huff leaves Miguel’s lips as his shoulders slump, his resolve is weakening. It seems arguing with the entire group is going to be an uphill battle. “Morbius is my responsibility-”

“Says who?” Peter retorts.

“He’s fucked all our lives up, man. We should get a say if we want to take part in makin’ sure he can’t destroy anyone else’s,” Hobie joins in, folding his arms, his expression stern. His response is met with nods of agreement from the other younger vampires.

Feeling the pressure mounting on him, Miguel finally folds. “Fine!” he throws his hands up in the air. “Fine, okay. You guys win.” A large hand runs through his hair as he continues to think. “But we need to find out some things. Firstly, where to find him and secondly, how to lure him out.”

Hobie’s hand goes straight for his jeans pocket to fish out his phone. “I can ask my connection with the cops to give us some access to the CCTV network? See if we can spot him movin’ about the city?”

Miguel rests his hands on his hips, deep in thought. “We could start there. Once we get his rough location, we can work out the rest.”

With a nod, Hobie looks down at his phone and starts tapping away, composing a message to his police contact.

“Lyla, Y/N; I’m going to need you both to investigate the CCTV system during the day. It’ll be safer that way,” Miguel’s command is met with Lyla’s salute and your nod. Now that you don’t have a job to go to anymore, you can dedicate more time to helping your new vampire friends.

A buzzing sound fills the air as Hobie receives a response from his friend. “Got a meeting set up with my contact tomorrow. 10am sound good?”

Both you and Lyla agree to the time of the meeting and you notice Miguel seems to relax a little more. A plan is starting to come together. There is a look of determination in his eyes. A drive to put an end to the beast once and for all.

Since Morbius’s return, Miguel has dreamed of releasing Nueva York from his clutches, and he cannot wait for the red of his foe’s eyes to dim before his body is turned into nothing but ash by his hand.

Thank you for reading part 6 of Vampire Miguel. I hope you are enjoying it so far.

Another 'thank you' this week to my brother who came up with the upside-down kiss suggestion which managed to fit perfectly with a scene I had in mind.

I will be starting part 7 in the coming days. Of course I will release it as soon as I am able.

Buy me a coffee! (And gain access to my discord)

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[haveihitanerve]

now listen- i am fully aware how perfect the song Sound The Bugle is for Spirit. I do. But do I also think Bryan Adams took inspiration from Gregor to write it? Absolutely.

"As the seasons change, remember how I used to be" gregor trying to remember who he was before the Underland. 'he was in the band. he had played the sax. he liked running'

"I got nothing left, just an empty heart" lost ares. heartbroken

"I'm a soldier, wounded so I must give up the fight" willing to die. accepts it after ares death. broken

"Or leave me lying here" that scene where he waits holding ares claw and sees the light and wants to go into it

"Without a light, I fear that I will stumble in the dark" literally the underland. 'light. life. the words were interchangable down here'

There's a voice that calls, "Remember who you are" If you lose yourself, your courage soon will follow" literally ripred. ripred calls to him. reminds him he has courage and that he doesnt believe in the prophecies. that he can beat the bane. that hes strong. and stubborn. and has courage.

[cryingpariah]

There's a New World festival held in the beginning of the year meant to honor a legendary warrior known for her wisdom and unmatched strategical skills. Nobody can seem to agree if she was a pirate, a marine, or a gladiator from a country like Dresrossa.

But regardless of her origin, the festival is a time of great fanfare. The hosting island, which differs every year, is crowded with tents of all colors of the rainbow. Traders set up shops and stalls carrying everything from rare gemstones to delicacies like sea king burgers to hunting bugles to open-toed sandals to weapons of every shape and size and sometimes even a Devil Fruit or two. Celebrities and musicians have been known to show up (Soul King played the last one on his world tour), and the sounds of pirate fights can be heard throughout the day. This is a rather chaotic day after all.

The centerpiece is the athletic tournament where representatives from whichever kingdoms choose to participate compete in a scramble for a solid gold owl egg in effigy of the legendary warrior's patron bird. Whoever remains standing with the egg at the end of each round then has to compete in an intellectual challenge to test their wits.

A celebration of both the body and the mind. That is the spirit of the Superb Owl Festival.

It's also a prime time to make off with some unguarded riches and rare loot, so you bet your ass Buggy's all over that. Family trip time!

Buggy's plan was simple: sneak into the festival, steal all their trinkets and doo-dads, maybe take a break for lunch/movie montage of trying on festival-exclusive merch, and slip away undetected! It was foolproof! Or it would be if the boys hadn’t flown off the second they touched port or if Mihawk hadn’t decided that now was the perfect time for his weekly zombie nap! At least Crocodile had his ass in gear, his eyes on the prize, his mind solely focused on their stealth mission-!

“I’m busy with fixing your latest business snafu Clown. If you wanna rob these people blind you’re on your own.”

He couldn’t believe what he was hearing! His own family, his flesh and blood, don’t want to be a part of Buggy's 6! It was gonna be way better than those other ones too! Way more practical effects and less tropey movie magic! Well fine then, be that way! They’d all be flocking to him when he made off with millions!

The plan was going perfectly, just how it was inked! Sure there were some close calls almost getting caught by competitors and local law enforcement but nothing a star clown like him couldn’t handle! He was about to make off like the most jovial thief when he slipped and stumbled down a conveniently opened mystery hatch. He fell and bumped around until he found himself standing before a caged entrance and he felt the whispers of the crowd and a faint wind behind him.

“Oh Davey Damnit! I was so close! What kind of island just leaves giant hatches for the world to fall into? I tell ya…”

Buggy turned around and was quickly struck by the realization that the wind behind him was no crack in the wall but a giant ravenous boar and its giant body was blocking his exit. He quickly put on his best showman smile and gently patted the beast's snoot.

“Hehe. Here good boar, I’m not hear to hurt anybody, especially not you sweetums! How about you let me through and we both forget this ever happen! Good deal, right?”

Apparently not. Thankfully the heavens were taking mercy on him as the gate opened and allow him to begin the Buggy Pirates secret technique: getting the hell outta here!

“Down to our final two competitors and it’s time to turn up the heat with the Superb Owl's ultimate test of will: The Baron Boar! …and a clown? Haha, leave it to our lady to keep us on our toes!”

The rest of this particularly harrowing tale was locked tightly away in the emperor's memory vault but he does remember running and screaming. Later the boys excitedly that they had seen him on the Mushi Monitor and how cool he looked dodging the boar while Crocodile chuckled while silently mourning this new hit to the Cross Guild's reputation! Hilariously, the media (and therefore the world) say Buggy's actions as defiance to the heavens which only tacked on more money to his ever growing bounty.

He did say he was gonna make millions, right?

[verdemoun]

How are the gang when watching emotional Pixar movies? (Specifically Up because I was just thinking about it and then Hosea and Bessie immediately after and it made me sad but Pixar movies are awesome as a whole)

out of touch plays menacingly in the background as i try to remember a single pixar movie

THE OPENING OF UP WILL MOVE ANYONE IN THE GANG TO TEARS they just want the simple pleasure of finding love being in love getting to spend their lives together with someone they are crying so hard they miss the first 30 minutes of the movie like drying their eyes why is there a giant bird now

i'm actually a dreamworks slut can you imagine the gang watching rise of the guardians?? dying for someone you love and wondering what your purpose is? battling with identity, trying to figure out where you belong in a world that seems so neatly divided into good and evil? losing hope? the tears shed

kieran watches spirit stallion of the cimmaron constantly because he's a horse girl but also arthur and charles both bawling over the story. sound the bugle always gets arthur but charles will be sniffling as little creek and spirit jump the ravine like that movie is just peak hurt/comfort for the gang

the gang not being able to fully connect with toy story because they didn't have toys growing up like their childhoods were too warped by era/fighting for survival

finding nemo. sorry but all of them having daddy issues. post blessed are the peacemakers arthur watching a film about a dad that went after his son when he had to ask dutch if they were actually looking for him? all of them feel absolute grief watching that movie but arthur is personally attacked. arthur is personally attacked by most animated movies

kieran gets into bluey as a comfort show and no one is ready. sean trying to warn arthur it isn't a kids show like do not sit down and watch bluey with kieran it will fuck with your mind and arthur brushing it off but it's bluey man. 'you don't need to keep coming back to this place'. Turtleboy? Onesies? Sleepytime? Army? Mini Bluey? Squash? The Dump? Space? Baby Race? Man is wrecked.

also studio ghibli films. toy story might not do it but totoro absolutely makes them mourn for the whimsy of childhoods they didn't get to experience. ponyo, kiki's delivery service, whispers of the heart, howl's moving castle (howl's moving castle man hosea feels the whole loving a man who sold his heart to a demon to become powerful and becoming a monster instead). even when marnie was there gets them a little too close with the playing with time travel

[me-myself-and-my-oboe]

Chapter 3: Lingering Notes

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x original female character

Masterlist

The rehearsal was winding down, the last chord reverberating through the music room. The sound lingered, a satisfying hum that made even Bucky feel like he was part of something bigger. Fury was already standing at the front of the room, his commanding presence silencing the quiet rustle of music stands and shuffling papers.

“Well done tonight,” Fury said, his voice calm but firm. “Most of you followed the tempo this time. Looking at you, Clint.”

“Hey, I’m artistic!” Clint protested, earning a few chuckles.

“Artistic doesn’t mean ahead of the beat,” Fury deadpanned. “Fix it. And for the love of all things holy, percussion, stop trying to outdo each other on volume. You’re not at a rock concert.”

Peter and Steve shared a guilty glance, prompting a low murmur of laughter from the group.

“That’s it for tonight,” Fury continued, waving them off. “Concert’s in three weeks, so don’t screw it up. Dismissed.”

The room erupted into movement, the energy buzzing as cases clicked open and instruments were packed away.

Bucky exhaled slowly, the tension in his chest still lingering even though the rehearsal was over. He carefully removed the mouthpiece from his trumpet, his hands steady but deliberate. It had been years since he’d held the instrument seriously, and while the basics came back quickly, his prosthetic arm added a layer of difficulty he wasn’t used to.

Across the room, Natasha and Wanda were already chatting, Natasha’s flute and Wanda’s clarinet packed away neatly. Sam leaned on his bugle case, teasing Clint, who was balancing his bassoon precariously against his chair.

Bucky’s gaze wandered to Steve, who was stacking sheet music. “Not bad for your first time back,” Steve said when he caught Bucky looking. “How’s it feel?”

“Rusty,” Bucky admitted.

Steve gave him an encouraging smile. “You’ll get there. Remember how awful I sounded on the bass drum the first few weeks in the army band?”

Bucky let out a rare chuckle. “You’re still awful.”

“Hey, I made it work,” Steve replied with mock indignation. “And look at us now. Back in the music game. Who’d have thought?”

Bucky didn’t reply, but the memory brought a small smile to his lips.

Sam ambled over, holding his bugle loosely in one hand. “You heading out, Barnes, or are you sticking around for the after-party?”

Bucky raised an eyebrow. “After-party?”

“We hit the diner after every rehearsal,” Clint chimed in, slinging his bassoon case over his shoulder. “Best fries you’ll ever have.”

“I don’t know,” Bucky said hesitantly, his fingers fidgeting with the latch on his trumpet case.

“Come on, it’s tradition,” Sam said, his tone light. “Gotta properly welcome you to the gang.”

“Think of it as hazing, but with cholesterol,” Clint added with a grin.

Bucky glanced at Steve, who gave him a small nod. “It’s not bad,” Steve said. “And you might actually have fun.”

Before Bucky could respond, Tara approached the group, her oboe case slung casually over her shoulder. She smiled at the cluster of musicians, her energy bright and welcoming.

“Are we doing fries tonight?” she asked, her gaze flitting between Clint and Natasha.

“Of course,” Natasha said, tucking her flute under her arm. “You’re coming, right?”

“Wouldn’t miss it,” Tara said. Her eyes landed on Bucky, and she hesitated for a moment before stepping closer.

“Hey,” she said warmly, “nice playing tonight. First rehearsal back, right?”

Bucky straightened slightly, nodding. “Yeah. It’s been a while.”

“You’re a fast learner,” Tara said, smiling. “Or just naturally good. Either way, it’s impressive.”

Sam, sensing the awkwardness creeping in, jumped in to ease the tension. “Tara’s been playing with us for a while now. She’s part of the reason the woodwinds actually stay in sync.”

Tara laughed lightly. “Steve’s overselling me, as usual. But thanks for the vote of confidence.”

Bucky’s lips twitched into a faint smile. “Well, thanks. I’m still getting the hang of things again.”

Steve, who had been silently observing the exchange, cleared his throat and leaned in a little, his tone light but teasing. “Hey, Tara, don’t let Bucky fool you. He’s actually a natural. Just a little out of practice, but he’ll be showing us all up soon enough.”

Tara raised an eyebrow at Bucky. “I’ll take that as a challenge.”

Bucky chuckled, his posture relaxing. “We’ll see.”

The group started gathering their things, and Tara joined the others as they made their way out.

“Fries?” Clint said as he held the door open for the group, a playful glint in his eye.

“Definitely fries,” Natasha agreed.

As they all filed out, Bucky felt the familiar weight of his trumpet case in his hand, but this time, the weight didn’t feel as heavy. There was a sense of ease now, the spark of camaraderie lighting something he hadn’t realized had been dimmed. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad after all.

[fuck-you-upmusicbracket]

Sound the Bugle (Spirit: Stallion of the Cimarron)

sound the bugle now, play it just for me / as the seasons change remember how i used to be / now i can't go on, i can't even start / i've got nothing left, just an empty heart / i'm a soldier, wounded so i must give up the fight / there's nothing more for me

"I was like seven the first time I heard this song and it was DEVASTATING and it is STILL agonising even to this day. The poor fucking horse is so depressed"

Lifeboat (Heathers)

Everyone's pushing Everyone's fighting Storms are approaching There's nowhere to hide If I say the wrong thing Or I wear the wrong outfit They'll throw me right over the side

Everyone's looking, and the captain is pointing, well who made her captain?

"Welcome to social anxiety town. This is how I felt about EVERY INTERACTION I had from about second grade to maybe last year. It's great for when your character is either in a toxic situation and fear being abandoned, or if they're about to do something stupid and self-sacrificing and is using this song's logic to justify it to themself."

Poll Runner here! I was ELATED when I saw this song had been submitted - it fucks you up so bad. The character singing has staked her entire life on the popularity of her friends, doing everything she can, staying subserviant, just so she can stay at the top. But now all those friends are dead or hate her, and her life is crumbling around her, and there's this utter panic as she slowly accepts that she's doomed and has nothing left. Just utterly brutal

[mashxreader]

Gossip: Trapper x Female Reader

Gossip

One week without a day off was no sweat, but two weeks was pushing it, and three was downright grueling. When a day finally came with no orders from Major Houlihan and no casualties either, you planned to enjoy every minute from the start.

Kellye had promised to loan you her nail polish, so nails were on the to-do list, as was serious time spent with curlers on. There were letters from home to answer, but there weren't so many that it couldn't be done in a day, and there were plenty of things horrid things you'd leave out, probably. And there was talk of a movie in the mess hall that night, which sounded like a nice break from everything - if the equipment didn't break down. It did so often, apparently.

But before any or all of that? A shower, though it took time for you to ease into it; you couldn't help, as the water warmed, keeping an ear out for an ill-timed helicopter or the rattle of an ambulance in a rush. Only after a few minutes passed did you begin to relax, and to give your hair the pampering it needed without worrying you'd have to rinse off in a hurry. Shampoo and conditioner today, yes, ma'am.

It was a boost, as was being able to put on your soft lilac robe from home rather than your uniform immediately. It felt like another sign of a peaceful day ahead, not like you were a few miles from the front lines of a war at all. Or so you hoped it could feel that way, if the springtime sun stayed bright and the skies stayed free of the thwack of helicopter blades. You didn't even mind missing the morning meal, knowing you could still find coffee or when you chose to, not when the bugle blasted the call to line up before breakfast. Compared to the last few weeks, it really was luxurious.

Leaving the shower tent felt like greeting the day all over again, just as happily and far fresher-faced than the first time, but your optimism dwindled a little after a few steps. Even on a good day, nothing could slow one down like an uncomfortably twisted sandal strap, and you had to stop walking to lean down and fix it.

You'd almost untwisted it when you heard footsteps jog nearer, and Captain McIntyre's familiar Boston accent. "Hey! Just the L.T. I wanted to see," he announced, and as he got within handshake distance, leaned in closer and dropped his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "Did you hear the hot gossip going around?"

Huh? You straightened your sandal strap and then your posture, and shot him a look that had to be confused. "Nobody really, uh, comes to me with the hot gossip," you said quizzically. The gaggle of witty, intelligent nurses were all great and most were nice, but you still felt new from time to time. And doctors you thought were boyishly cute? It was even rarer that their gossip would be thrust in your direction, and it was slightly baffling. "So, no, I doubt I've heard…" Was he being playful in some way? You decided you had the time and maybe just enough curiosity to play along. "You care to enlighten me?"

"Oh, well, sorry, I was sure that everyone'd heard," he stated with such melodrama that you were now sure he was being playful, with some rascally motivation or another behind the telling. "Word's out that Hawkeye is going to the movies with Nurse Marino tonight."

"…Oh?"

Captain McIntyre leaned back on his heels and crossed his arms with a nod. "Have it on good authority."

You couldn't help but laugh. You weren't sure what he was playing at, but it had to be something. "Well, I… guess that could be considered gossip, sure, but I don't think anything, uh, guarantees it being hot…"

The doctor laughed as well. "Ye of little faith in Hawkeye? That or you're insultin' both or either of 'em, and I can't tell which," he admitted with a muted cackle.

He was certainly attractive when he laughed, and the way his tee stretched over his arms wasn't half bad, either. But you hadn't meant the latter half of what he'd implied, and that was more important. "No, no, I didn't- they're both… fine-looking, I didn't mean anything by-"

"Hey, ease up. You got a sense of humor, and that's a good thing out here," he assured, and suddenly his arm was around your shoulders as he leaned in close again. "But, listen, them two going out tonight, I do have a problem with it."

You were surprised. You'd worked with Captain McIntyre before, but he'd never so easily gone straight to touching you. You'd heard stories, though. Maybe he simply hadn't had the time, until he'd gotten a day off, too?

Either way, the warm weight and sight of his hand on your left shoulder flustered you for a moment. What had he just said? "…A problem?"

"Mmm… Y'see," he began, with an air of pretend gravity, "Hawkeye was gonna be my date to the movies tonight."

Your date, huh? Funny phrasing. But you were aware you'd parroted him once already, and didn't want to make a habit of that conversational faux pas, even if he was inscrutable.

And suddenly, his arm around your shoulder made a lot more sense. You fought back a smile, and took a step in the direction of your tent. You didn't mean to throw him off, though. No, you moved more to discern whether he'd follow.

His hand didn't falter. He fell into casual step beside you, and you felt at that point you owed him an answer of some sort.

"So, you're lacking a movie date… and that's why you wanted to find me?" It was very flattering, especially from someone you did casually like, but there was one big deterrent to keep in mind… "And why your married hand is on my shoulder right now?"

He only smiled, the absolute cad, and pointed playfully with his free hand. "Hey, now, I didn't say anything about marriage, just we could go see a picture together."

You considered that oddly charming non-answer as you continued to lead the way towards your tent, and once nearer to home, you slipped out from beneath his arm. "Well, Captain, I'll… I'll think about it," you promised, knowing that married or otherwise, you did have a slight crush and may not need long to decide. "If you're sure it's just the movie," you added, and leaned against the tent's corner pole, looking at him knowingly. "I may not know all the gossip, but I… have heard a thing or two, you know…"

He raised his eyebrows expectantly, patiently, cutely even as he met your eyes and prompted, "A thing or two about?"

You might have been blushing, but managed to get the words out. "That a nice, simple, fun little movie night with you has a way of… of ending up in Supply."

Captain McIntyre hummed thoughtfully and scratched his jaw. "Those nurses… Talkative bunch!"

"Mm, they can be," you admitted with a grin, having fun with having the upper hand.

"Guess it all depends, then," he seemed content to conclude.

"On what?"

That broad, boyish smile returned. "Whether ya like what you've heard."

If you hadn't been blushing before, you were now, and rolled your eyes and averted your gaze to try to hide it. "Captain…"

"Well, am I wrong? You either believe gossip or don't, and either like what you hear or don't," he said simply and good-naturedly. "You don't like any of it, you probably won't drop by the Swamp around six, whet your whistle with a drink before all that popcorn. But now, see, now I'm curious, and I gotta ask…"

He'd stepped closer, and you noticed his gaze wandering downward. Men! While you were more flattered than exasperated, you did close your robe a little tighter, but it was out of adherence to propriety in public more than real feeling. So was the unamused look you shot him, one that implied a warning even as you said, "Then ask."

"Well, you heard some gossip about the movies, but, ah…" He paused, and made sure again to make eye contact. "What precisely do the nurses say about supply?"

Oh, crap.

What you'd heard about him, you weren't about to repeat, though your surprise and sudden speechlessness must have given it all away.

And damn him, but he was smirking like he'd known the answer before he'd asked.

What a jerk. Or not a jerk, but at least a very good flirt. Oh, boy, but you had to say something, didn't you? That, or let him know he had you tongue-tied.

"…like I said…" A good and graceful stall as any, you thought. You inched a little closer to the door of your tent, cracked it open and began to slip inside, and gave him a little farewell wave. "I'll think about it."

Once inside, you shook your head with a disbelieving laugh. He was something else! He'd come on strong, too. Oh, sure, he and Captain Pierce did that with all the nurses, but there was something fun about him, and married or not, maybe it wouldn't be so terrible to get to know him a little better, for fun or a fling or… maybe just a movie with that big arm back around your shoulder, why not… It didn't mean anything to snuggle up close to a warm-blooded, charismatic guy for the length of a film, and surely you couldn't be so easily compelled towards the supply room, unless you wished to be…

Captain McIntyre watched the flimsy door close and snickered to himself. He'd let the lovely lieutenant think, that was just fine, but he personally had a good feeling about the night ahead, and sensed that even better feelings might flourish after the credits had rolled.

[dtupdates-archive]

♡—DREAM was active on Dream__Fanart! He liked:

EVEREST

💚If you're in Dreams situation what will you do??🤔

it's tuff out here 💔

It's all just Dream in the drultiverse

1️⃣

butterflies 🦋

he can't see anything 😞

day 3: meetup!

Dreamnap cowboy dtiys!!

to whoever wants to hear: an album poster

dream is being overprotective as always🤭

Please keep the hair long🛐

rivals into the spidervers

Dream at droncert with drom ready to change his driaper

type « 123 »

Day three: among us dream! <3

Sound the bugle now... play it just for me...

I love how we all agree c!dreams voice is hot and so is him...

that mullet was lowkey iconic

Butterflies definitely like sweet things :3

Omg a butterfly

knows nothing not even abcs

DAY 1 MANHUNT DREAM

This is my self care

i need him to buy that suit💳💥💳💥

I dont have any art rn i have only this pls spare me

dreamie!

Speaking of farmer/cowboys

doodled him in the mayday beanie thing 😋

I never know what to write but here is another quick sketch of dream?

Living life like limitless

Dear universe pls give him a break, love smiletwt

sorry guys the mistakes were going to haunt me 💕

our little star.

shining star doodle before i sleep

day 2: Beanies! i need that beanie back 😭😭

more doodles i forgot to post instead of working on Dream bday fanart

What who drew that ahem anyways

Yehaaww! Got Dream as a cowboy!

Droodle

blobs in their natural habitat and their house

to whoever wants to hear,

doodle of the pookie

dream wrapped in bubble wrap