#the rewatch is going well as you can see (crawls up the wall)

[dudeyuri]

This moment in EP3, after Pat forces Pran to break his silent treatment by telling him he deleted the video of his friends bullying Wai at the bar. It's everything to me. It's a major, pivotal moment that changes the trajectory of their relationship. It happens entirely on Pat's face.

Pran, very seriously, tells Pat to stay away from him. The music is serious. His words are serious. His expression is serious. Pat's reaction is serious. Their relationship thus far is warming up, but it's still tenuous and volatile, as evidenced by this scene.

Then, as Pran walks away, we have Pat's subsequent face journey. His initial reaction seems to be: "Well shit, he really told me to get off his case, and he might have meant it." And in a matter of seconds, in a choice conveyed completely by his face, Pat decides: "No. I'm actually going to be in your life for the rest of it!" The music shifts to lighthearted. There's no reality in which they can stay away.

I swear, this face journey marks a change in his behavior toward Pran. Pran essentially telling him to fuck off did him in. It made things that were complex before suddenly very clear to Pat. All of the tension between them was instantly boiled down to its bare bones: He could either leave Pran alone, or not leave him alone.

We see how easy and obvious and, most importantly, how JOYFUL this decision was for him. He made it in about .5 seconds. No-brainer of all no-brainers. And now everything has changed. (Cue the devilish grin, cue Pat ignoring Pran and proceeding to tease him/help him in the library, cue the pre-feelings flirtation era, cue everything that makes Pran say to him in EP5: "You can't keep doing this to me.")

[marvelous-slut]

Bad Girlfriend - Happy Lowman x reader

Y’all. I’m back. I’m rewatching sons and I can’t contain myself. I LOVE THIS MAN. And I love ALL OF YOU. Life’s been busy, haven’t wrote in months but I come back to see the love y’all have given me even tho I’ve been MIA? Y’all are AWESOME. Thank you guys from the bottom of my heart. Hopefully these can be a regular thing.

Trigger Warnings - minors DNI. Go far away. Smut. Angry sex. Cheating. Wrote this on my iPhone notes and didn’t proof read it the best, sue me.

“Hales a lucky bastard. I mean look, how’s a woman with such a nice rack with a guy like him? Total dork. Must be for some kind of show. Has to be.” Tig says as he thinks Happy heard all his words. Happy stopped listening after the first sentence. He turns to Tig, confusion plastered all over his face.

“What?”

“You know, it’s just weird seeing a hot chick with a nerd.”

“No, the first part.” Happy says, getting annoyed with Tig.

“Oh! Hale, yeah? That’s Hales old lady, Unsers niece, well more like a daughter he raised her, and you’re not listening.” He finishes as Happy stands up to go confront you. He wasn’t one to let emotions get the best of him, but when a taken woman was basically throwing herself onto him every time she saw him, he needed to know what was going on. Teach her a lesson.

You say with Jax, Clay and Unser. You’d went with Unser to make sure he was okay, the man practically raised you. It was hard watching cancer rip him away. There was more to it, you enjoyed being around the club. It gave you a thrill, watching these men and their old ladies, watching how they destroyed anything that dared step in the way of them and their women, them and their brother hood.

Truth is, it was easier being with David. It made things smooth, he was a nice guy, Unser cared for him. There was just something that didn’t do it for you with him, you couldn’t tell if it was the vanilla sex, or the rumors you’d kept hearing about him eating some ATF woman’s pussy on the clock. Either way, running from chaos never worked for you, and that was evident with the familiar face of Happy Lowman come to you and grabbed your arm away from the group as they were conversing among themselves. Happy had become someone in the MC you enjoyed, you liked the way he carried himself. How people were afraid to even look at him the wrong way. The way his gun hung off his hip. He was everything that your boyfriend was not and it drove you insane. He drug you to his room despite your protest, he gets you inside and shuts the door locking it behind him.

“What is this about?” You ask, confused as to why you’d been drug away.

“What are you doing? Trying to get intel out of me.” He backs you against the wall, his face inches away from yours. “Come in here flaunting your shit all over me, whole time you have an old man at home? A cop none the less.”

“It’s not like that.” You begin, Happy chuckles and pushes into you further. The two of your bodies no longer having any room in between.

“Tell me what it’s like then? Cop not get the job done for you?” You feel your skin crawling, in the best way possible. Also, a little fear crept in. As much as you liked Happy and seeing him, you knew he was dangerous.

“He doesn’t.” You let out softly, he grabs your face and places his lips onto yours harshly. Almost as if he’d needed this like you did. He pulls you back from the wall and lays you down on his bed instead.

Happy knew he had you right where he wanted you, and right where you wanted him. He spreads your legs as far as they will go, he’s on his knees in-between them. His hands go to your thighs, under you dress. He finds your entrance covered by a wet laced fabric. He runs his fingers up and down the sorry excuse of fabric that covered your wet folds. You moan softly, he pushes them to the side and shoves a finger into you with no warning. You arch your back, hoping he’d get the hint to add another finger. His finger is covered with your wetness.

“Happy.” You moan out, leaning your head up to make eye contact with him. He’s still in his kutte which makes your pussy pulse even more for him.

“Beg.” He lets out, moving his finger slowly in and out of you. “Tell me what you want.”

“I want you to give me more, fuck me with your fingers.” You keep eye contact with him, he still hasn’t moved any faster or added any digits. You sigh, throwing your head back. “Finger fuck me, please Happy. Please, I’m begging you.” He is a bit more satisfied with this response as he adds another finger, pushes himself over top of you, keeping his fingers inside you. He’s hovering over you now, a hand in your hair tugging it lightly. You moan, closing your eyes. The pleasure from his fingers was enough and he knew that, he pushed you to your limit and then he stops.

“I don’t think cheating whores deserve to cum.” He says, licking his fingers as he keeps eye contact with you. You’re desperate now, you grab him by his Kutte, slamming your lips onto his like a greedy bitch. You move your hands down to his belt, undoing it as you pull away to kiss his neck.

“Maybe I don’t, but you do.” You whisper to him, he feels the heat from your mouth on his ear. He pushes you back onto the bed, ripping your dress over your head, leaving you exposed to the cold air. He rips his shirt off, then his jeans and boxers all in one motion. He slams his cock into you with no warning, you let out a moan as he begins pumping himself in and out of you. You feel like you’re being fucked into his mattress. You gasp loudly as he begins rubbing your clit, you felt fuzzy in the brain. You couldn’t believe you were doing this to yourself, to Happy, to David? You reach a hand up to cover your mouth as the pleasure of him drilling inside of you is becoming harder to contain. He rips your hands away, pinning them above your head as he continues ramming into you.

“No. You don’t get to be quiet. I want everyone to know what’s happening. I want them to know I’m fucking Hales old lady. Making you take me, what do you think he’d think? A dirty biker fucking his innocent girlfriend?” He asks, his face is driving you crazy, he has his eyes shut head tilted to the ceiling enjoying this moment too much.

“Oh my god Happy.” You scream out loud enough anyone around could hear. “Fuck. Fuck.” You moan out, your arms still pinned above your head. He bends down, licking the side of your neck, biting it softly yet rough enough it would leave a mark. “Oh god Happy. I can’t ever get off with him. Please let me cum. Please.” You plead with him, sadly what you told Happy wasn’t a lie at all. Most times it was a 7 minute fuck and a fake orgasm to get David off of you.

“Not surprising. You need a real man to do that.” He finally lets go of your hands, moving one of his to your throat grasping it gently. He moves the other back to your clit, giving you chills all over your body. “Good thing you’ve got me inside of you right now. Good thing you can obey like a good girl too.” With the final words, you feel your eyes roll back in your head. You arch your back, bracing yourself for the first orgasm you’d had with a man and not a toy or your own fingers in years.

“God damn it.” You scream out, feeling yourself release around him. You feel your face flush, he notices and it’s enough to send him over as well. “Fuck.” He mutters, releasing himself into you. You lay there on his bed, feeling light headed from the mind blowing orgasm you just received. Happy stands up, cleaning himself up. He throws your clothes onto the bed.

“May want to clean up before you go back to your old man.” With that, he throws on a shirt and leaves the room. You lay back on the bed looking at the ceiling, realizing what has been done can’t be undone.

The chaos you tried to avoid would ensue before you knew it.

[webbywatcheshorror]

Webby Reviews Horror: Terrified/Atterados (2018)

I’ve seen this movie at least three times and each time it’s been fantastic. Terrified, also known as Atterados, is a Spanish-language movie about a neighborhood plagued by the supernatural; it is visited by three paranormal investigators hoping to learn more about these phenomena. It introduced me to a terrifying concept and doesn’t rely on cheap jumpscares or shock value to bring the fear. (Not to say there’s no jumpscares or shocking things, of course, but they’re well-done when used.) 

My long review/analysis/word vomit is under the cut. Spoilers ahead!

I’ve divided this movie into two halves and then smaller sections within those halves so it goes something like this:

1. The Hook  a. Juan  b. Walter  c. The Kid 

2. Reeling In  a. Investigation  b. Contact

So starting with The Hook, we are given three stories of the weird shit going on in the neighborhood with Juan as our focal point to begin with. Within the first few minutes we get an incredible shot of something in the sink drain breathing, and inaudible whispers, as Juan’s wife is doing the dishes. When he gets home, and she tells him what she heard, he dismisses her experience, but we do get a mention of another weird occurrence- a dog that had been run over is running around, totally fine. This could just be that the dog pulled through, but with what happens later, I’m inclined to believe that’s not the case. It’s subtle on first watch, but on a rewatch it caught my attention- I’m a sucker for subtle details that hint at later horrors. 

The first big scare comes without much warning- Juan, hearing banging, goes into the bathroom to see the brutal murder of his wife- an unseen force is slamming her against the walls of the shower which are already painted in her blood. It really sets the tone for the rest of the movie- Juan is helpless, forced to watch as something tosses his wife so hard against the walls you can hear the sickening crunch of her skull with each pass.

Part b is about Walter, Juan’s neighbor. Walter’s sequence is the funniest, but also the most fucking terrifying of the three cases. Some time before Juan’s tragedy, Walter has been having trouble trying to sleep, due to something rearranging his furniture as he lies in bed. This includes the bed, which, to me, is where the comedy is: it gave me the impression of a ghost who hated how he redecorated the place and was making its displeasure known.

The comedy does not last long. There’s a particular shot that creeps me right the fuck out every time: Walter checks under his bed and he (and we) see nothing. The camera angle changes and, right beneath Walter, is a pale humanoid creature, legs bent at ENTIRELY the wrong angle, and it begins to unfold itself as we watch. Walter is completely unaware. We are treated to one or two more shots like this. The idea of a home invader, especially one you can’t seem to see, just makes me want to double check every door and window in my house. Not that it would help, as we will find out later.

Walter’s tale is also tragic. He tries to get help, but the one specialist he’s told that can help, can’t take on his case, as she needs proof. He sets up a camera to try to capture something he can send to her so he can finally get some god damn sleep. 

This entire scene fills me with dread- he is awoken by banging, and finds his camera on the ground, knocked over by something. His furniture is, of course, all clumped together again. He reviews the footage and finds, to his (and my) absolute horror, a tall, thin, pale, nude humanoid intruder has been standing beside his bed, staring down at him, before slinking away to hide in the wardrobe. That he is, currently, kneeling beside. He confronts the wardrobe which is devoid of intruders, so he rewinds the footage more to find that the creature had crawled out from beneath his bed before towering over him. 

It makes me incredibly glad my bedframe is on the ground. 

The third case is the most devastating. Some time before Walter’s demise, he warns a little boy to stop drinking from the tap outside Walter’s house, to leave. The Boy, whose name I never caught, backs away from the house slowly, until he reaches the street. He is immediately hit by a bus, and hopefully, dies on impact. I’m guessing it wasn’t just the moving furniture keeping Walter up at night.

Four days after his funeral, The Boy is sitting in his mother’s kitchen, still very much a corpse. Sheriff Funes calls in his old friend Doctor Jano to help him figure out what the fuck is going on. Apparently Jano is no stranger to reanimated corpses. They determine that his mother Alicia didn’t dig him up in her grief, so they return him to his grave and add a nice new concrete lid so he stays put.

Funes is an interesting character, especially for being a cop. He’s willing to keep an open mind regarding possible paranormal explanations, and later we see that despite his health condition and his absolute terror, he is a brave man, and willing to do what needs to be done. He feels like a real person, which can sometimes be hard to find in the horror genre (or movies in general I guess lol)

During his short investigation of The Boy, Jano finds a peer of his across the street at Walter’s house, Doctor Allbreck. When you have two separate paranormal investigators in the same place at the same time for different cases, it’s probably a good idea to team up. They, and another investigator, obtain permission to each stay at one of the affected houses for a few days; Juan’s, Walter’s, and The Boy’s.

Thus begins the second half, Reeling In. The movie really ramps up in the second half, introducing one of the most terrifying concepts to me personally. The three doctors split off and begin the short Investigation section of the movie. I’d like to note that the three investigators are people that I kind of wanted to see succeed. They’re smart, professional, courteous, and brave, though perhaps a little TOO brave. I’d love to know what all their equipment does, too.

After some mishaps and readings with various methods from each investigator, we are told that there are separate universe that sort of overlap, but unless you have the right point of view, you can’t see it. You can’t hear it. From the wrong angle, it doesn’t even exist to you, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t there.

This is demonstrated by Funes looking under the bed, first from one side, which shows it as empty, then being an absolute clown car of a space when viewed from the end of the bed. I mean that bitch is either packed with weirdos OR one really, really long, folded up weirdo. Another example comes in the form of Jano being able to see a man in the window of Walter’s house from across the street- but only when he stands in the right spot. He goes back and forth multiple times, resulting in one of the few but GOOD jumpscares as the figure appears directly in front of Janos’ window during the next pass. This starts the final section, Contact.

Each house’s monster makes itself known, drawing the researchers deeper into the dark, until it’s too late for them to realize they’re, metaphorically, already in the fisher’s net. More good scares in this sequence, including a really good one of a huge gnarled hand coming out of a crack in the wall to grab Allbreck by the head and snap her neck just after she explains to Funes that the creatures can enter our world as microscopic entities living in water, and they can take over our bodies this way. (On my second watch, I did in fact note that each victim had some kind of contact with the tap water before disaster struck.)

Funes, bless his weak heart, keeps trying to do the smart thing and get the hell out of the Hell House district, but he keeps going back inside to try to help the researchers. There’s a really good and tense scene where he’s having a heart attack, and behind him in the blurry background, you see a Creature approaching. 

One of my favorite moments is when Funes finally makes it to his car, intending to leave, and the mutilated body of Allbreck shuffles quickly from the front door and slams against his window, her neck twisted and stretched so far that her head hangs upside down looking like the world’s worst candycane. I believe the movie Smile makes an homage to this moment, or at least, it’s an incredibly similar scene.

Funes, being the smartest character, decides that arson is the only way to be sure, as he doesn’t have access to nukes from orbit. There’s an INCREDIBLY good moment where he’s trying to light the match, but it keeps going out. The angle changes and we see Jano, eyes full of glass shards and blood, blowing out the next match. 

The final scene is set a year later, and Juan, still in custody (poor guy), is talking to a set of investigators and a local cop. We learn the fates of those we’ve just spent an hour and twenty minutes following- Funes is missing, and the others are dead. After some questioning, Juan points to an empty corner and asks if ‘he’ came with them- he identifies him as Rosentok, one of the researchers, only his face is horribly burnt. The others can’t see him, but Juan insists. He came in with them. 

It raises the question, if there are converging, coexisting universes, how could you ever possibly know you were safe? What if you just haven’t found the right point of view? What if there’s something lurking just over your shoulder, face inches from your cheek, filthy clawed hands reaching to seize you, and unless you find the right spot, you’ll never even know.

If the idea of something only being detectable to you if you’re in just the right angle isn’t terrifying to you, then I don’t believe you and you’re lying. (Just kidding. I admire your ability to not let it stop you from walking around your house in the dark.) For me this is one of the worst scenarios imaginable, right up there with ‘monster is only visible in the shadows’ and ‘you can’t trust literally any of your senses’.

I give this one a 10/10. 10 what? I dunno, ghosts or something. I didn’t think that far ahead. I have no complaints. Unique setting, great utilization of atmosphere and camera work to instill a sense of dread and paranoia, offers a refreshing change from your more typical protagonists, and sticks with you long after the movie ends. Is your closet really empty, or are you just looking at it wrong? 

[ramblingdisaster73]

Rambling thoughts as I rewatch 4x09 “Road Kill”

I thought it would be a younger version of herself from the promo & Natacha’s interview before the episode aired – BUT – I FUCKING LOVE how they did it. This is my favorite of all the ‘begins’ episodes from both 9-1-1 & LS

“Is that Marjan?” x3 – trying to figure out if the 2 Paul ones were the same one and the edited it weird or if it was in the script that he said it twice

You helped with that Tumor cake Marj.

I love that he doesn’t believe that she sold the bike & got $200 more.

So not subtle about the party – but these people are so happy to get her back and I love it.

Acts of service really is her love language

I love that the girl made it out of her relationship – I also love how they showed her doubts – that was so real. It isn’t easy leaving bad relationships – but in the end she overcame her fear – with the help of Marj.

The season of sisters – so funny. I am trying to figure out who is next – We know that Grace has 2 (Sierra’s irl sisters), Carlos has 2, and Marjan has at least 1.

As someone that performed in those 4-hour recitals – I agree -they get long and tedious – but can be absolutely adorable and hysterical at the same time.

This is actual a pretty decent spread – but yeah – that is kinda a lot of canapes

You are ALWAYS extra

They are so fucking adorable – they definitely dodged an LED bullet

Once again – they kill it with the music.

The thing about the red car – my guess is from Marjan’s memories – did the Mom crawl out of the car and die, then the father moved to the passenger side of the car? Because Marj was in the back on the drivers side behind her friends Dad. The placement when adult Marj checks them out confused me.

This is her second accident in 2 seasons

How long did she have to sit with her dead best friend and his parents after their accident?

I love her origin story – so much of who she is, why she is who she is, is so beautifully consistent with her character the last 3.5 seasons

We learned so much new info about her

Mateo gets very emotional when the people he loves are in distress – he showed us this in the first season when they found out Owen had cancer, it has continued through out the seasons. It makes sense that he would be as worked up as he is.

Good thing Grace is always at work when they need her

Kinda find it funny that the cop stays at the house while 3 firefighters go investigate.

Sucks for Rick – getting murdered for being a nice guy.

How does this cop NOT see the dead body or blood?

Grant did not cover it up that well

I also thought Grant was for sure going to kill the cop when he started walking back to his car.

The makeup department did an amazing job

TK reliving the events of who knows how long ago – this timeline taunts me daily – from Carlos’ kidnapping and now this

The acting this season has been phenomenal

“I hate to ask you this, but was she the victim or the perpetrator?” Carlos Reyes – I mean, it’s a fair question.

How the fuck did this dude bail himself out? Was the bail amount $5?

I think it is interesting that Marj was called Mouse when she was younger, but how that accident changed how she presented herself. She took her BFF’s mom’s advice and lived her true self – not as someone that was remotely quiet or shy.

This cop wasn’t at all suspicious of this dude? Like didn’t even bother running the plates?

She lost so much blood – I love that she used some of it to put up the ‘126’ on the wall.

Get a sister – Get a killer = season 3 of LS

This whole episode is so well done

“That girl can’t just see the sites like a normal tourist?” Paul ‘exhausted’ Strickland

Of course Grant borrowed his dad’s RV for a trip – guess he just never said how long that trip would be.

Survival instincts are crazy

“Are you a liar?” – child Marjan to Adult Marjan

His constant use of the word ‘friend’ gets super annoying after like the 3rd time he said it.

It is awesome how they had every part of the 126 (with a late cronut assist from Tommy) helping to find Marjan – and similar to 4x04 – Marjan saved herself – but had help in finishing the job

So I guess it is: get a sister – get a killer – save yourself from the killer – your family assists you getting medical help

The scene in the tunnel – The terror in Marjan’s eyes was something I FELT. Not just saw – but FELT

Flare to the neck – nice way for an abusive killer to die

Kinda happy it was extra painful, even if it was quick

Off topic – but I have been watching A LOT of Stranger Things – so the scene of Paul, Judd, and Owen all being on their radios made me laugh and think of the kids/teens (mostly the never-ending story scene)

Now Kylie will never have to look over her shoulder for her abusive ex again.

Owen’s face at the truck after they find the old man’s body – perfect expression of fear and grief.

I am so glad they cut the Nanteo scene in the hospital

Give them development, but this wasn’t the time

Super cute TK sleeping on Carlos

I do hope that they do something with what they have been sorta building up for them

SO FUCKING OVER THE DIET/NEGATIVE FOOD REFERENCES

None of these people do well with R&R – not a single one of them – But I think Grace and Owen are the worst

“It could be that our daughter just don’t got no interest at all” Judd Ryder – good luck buddy

“Who is here for Marjan Marwani” EVERYONE

“Why you guys first? Fine just don’t take too long.” Mateo being the youngest brother.

Another great quotable episode

I did love the reveal of it being a younger Marjan, showing us her parents

This was such a strong episode – from top to bottom, every member of the cast & crew really gave it their all – and it shows.

She looks so small in that hospital bed with her found brother & adopted dad, then her smile when she gets the flowers from her parents – such a great ending scene.

Looking forward to the rest of the season – It just keeps getting better.

[queen-of-mandalore]

Em’s Star Wars Rewatch part 17:

The Clone Wars #15 - Droid Factory (2x04, 2x05, 2x06)

2x04: Senate Spy

The scenes of Padme and Anakin together at the beginning were actually so cute. The show really made me see them as a couple which the movies never really did.

I love that by Anakin telling her she can’t do something, Padme instantly becomes intent on doing it.

Anakin having zero chill around Clovis.

Padme plays the innocent love sick girl so well, she manipulated Clovis masterfully.

Honestly I think Clovis took a page from Anakin’s book of pick up lines - ‘if you get tired, you can rest your head on my shoulder’ 🙄😂

Padme’s dress was stunning, although I think it was using the force to stay up 😂

The Trade Federation are such real villains. Like they are the bad guys but they aren’t overtly evil, just playing both sides and acting in their own self interest. I could easily see them existing irl.

2x05: Landing at Point Rain

This is one of those episodes that remind us just how fucking brutal war is. This isn’t our heroes rushing to victory, it’s violent and messy and all their plans go wrong. The direction of this episode is so good and gives you a sense of the pure chaos.

I love how Anakin tries to make the war fun for Ahsoka with their little competition. She is literally a child and it melts my heart that he’s trying to keep it as lighthearted as he can (plus Anakin is a child at heart as well haha). Plus it was hilarious when Mundi throws in his total at the end.

I love to see the different nose art on the LAATs. You can imagine the troopers gathering around painting them between campaigns.

The sand trooper armour was very cool.

I love Ahsoka’s sass towards Anakin.

Poor Rex being thrown off an exploding wall. His scream of pure terror is too funny 😂. He really must question what he did to deserve Anakin as his general. I also love that Ahsoka was thinking the exact same thing as Anakin when they threw him off.

The way Obi-Wan’s men fall back in a circle to protect him and the way he struggles to his feet to make his final stand 😭

2x06: Weapons Factory

I find it odd that Barriss introduces herself to Ahsoka - surely they would already know each other from growing up at the temple?

You can really tell that Anakin and Ahsoka have an unorthodox padawan/master relationship. It’s a stark contrast to Barriss and Luminara. But honestly it’s even different to what Anakin and Obi-Wan had. Ahsoka and Anakin are siblings, they bicker and they love each other.

Ahsoka and Barriss crawling through the catacombs whilst the bugs were sleeping was straight out of a horror film.

I think Luminara gets more hate than she deserves. At no point does she tell Anakin they shouldn’t search for Ahsoka and Barriss, she’s just more realistic about their prospects for survival. She cares if Barriss is alright, but she’s not going to become unstable and turn to the dark side if she loses her like Anakin would. I also think she just expresses herself differently to Anakin, she doesn’t wear her emotions on her sleeve like he does, so on the outside it might seem like she’s uncaring but I think she really does care a lot.

[dameronscopilot]

okay, so I’m rewatching Triple Frontier right now, and every single time Benny speaks (or SINGS! completely blocked that out somehow) I’m caught off guard by how deep his voice is. Thoughts on him attempting to get his girl hot and bothered by just talking softly/low in his register, and absolutely zero touching when he realises what it does to her? 👀

so the fun thing about me is that you can send me an ask about Benny, expecting that just i'll toss back a few spicy thots about him. and instead, i'll sit here and go so incredibly overboard!

because, well, this is Benny Miller we're talking about.

wanton intonation

Benjamin "Benny" Miller x f!reader

Summary: Benny realizes just how much the sound of his deep voice affects you one morning.

Word Count: 1.3k

Rating: 18+ EXPLICIT

Content: NSFW, smut, unprotected p in v, masturbation, voice kink, praise kink, dirty talk

Roused from sleep by the feeling of movement beside him, Benny's eyes fall open, and he smiles to himself as he watches you yawn and languidly stretch across the sheets, soft traces of the morning sun peeking through the blinds and falling across your serene face. Your body slips out from under the comforter as your feet nudge it off, and he runs a hand through his sleep-tousled hair as his eyes rake over the dips and curves of your form, clad only in a tank top and a pair of panties.

An appreciative groan falls from your lips at the pleasant feeling in your limbs as you stretch in a nearly feline manner, not yet aware of your audience as your arch your back up off of the bed.

"Fuck, honey," Benny comments, voice still rough with sleep.

An amused noise leaves your mouth when you realize he's been watching, and you repeat the movement with your fingers splayed over your sternum, eyes still closed.

Benny's breath is hot against the shell of your ear when he leans in and murmurs, "Keep doing that, and I might have to make you late for work."

A thrill crawls up your spine at the implication behind his words, and you turn your head sideways, nose brushing against his as you ask, "And how might you do that, Benjamin?"

There's a glint in Benny's blue eyes as he reaches out, tracing the curve of your jaw with his fingers. "Wanna see you come for me again like you did last night."

Your face heats up at the memory of the way you'd gushed, liquid spraying from you and a cacophony of whines falling from your lips as Benny's fingers sought out your sensitive bundle of nerves while he rapidly drove his shaft in and out of your dripping cunt from behind, hips snapping into yours at a brutal pace.

The way he'd gently spread you out on the mattress afterward, lapping broad, firm strokes through your sticky folds with his tongue until your legs were trembling and your mind was fuzzy as you came for him again.

The way he'd eased his throbbing cock into you once more, finding his own release while he pumped his length through your tight, slippery walls, dragging one final, dizzying crest of pleasure through your limbs as well whilst you repeatedly cried out his name.

"Tell me what you want to do to me," you breathe out.

On any given day, Benny's deep voice and smooth drawl have a tendency to leave you breathless anytime, anywhere, though he's seemingly yet to catch on to his ability to weaponize it as such in the bedroom.

Until now.

He presses the tip of his thumb against your bottom lip, and you can hear the good-natured amusement in his tone as he suggestively asks, "You like hearing me talk, sweetheart?"

"Maybe," you answer softly, nipping at his thumb.

Benny pushes it into your mouth slightly, his pupils dilating as you close your lips around the thick digit and swirl your tongue over it. Groaning, he lets you lap at his thumb for a moment longer before pulling it from your mouth.

Tipping your chin up with a finger, his gaze is hooded as he says in his soothing, low register, "I think you do."

His lips brush across yours chastely as he leans in, mussed blonde hair tickling your face, but when you try to press your mouth to his, he pulls away.

"Benny," you whine quietly at the teasing touch, your body still hypersensitive and tender from the lingering dredges of sleep.

"Lay flat on your back," he tells you evenly, gesturing toward where you've rolled onto your side, having been naturally pulled toward the solid warmth of his body next to yours.

You comply, looking over at him with your cheek resting on the pillow, skin prickling under the weight of his gaze as he studies you, head propped up against his hand.

"Now touch yourself for me," he murmurs, those words and the sound of his voice rapidly stoking the embers of the growing ache between your thighs.

Though you know what he wants you to do, you reach a hand up under your tank top instead, pushing it up just far enough for him to see a peak of your breasts. You bare your neck to him as you do so, letting a delicate little sigh leave your mouth when you lift the material higher so he can see the way you're caressing yourself.

You don't miss the hitch in Benny's breath, the way he adjusts himself slightly as he watches you palm at your tits, stroking your pebbled nipples. But he doesn't let himself stay distracted for long.

"You know where I mean, honey."

Far too turned on now to do anything but, you leave your top rucked up, breasts exposed as your fingers skate down your stomach, flirting with the waistband of your underwear. You slip your fingers inside of the material, letting them slide through the slick arousal dripping from your folds.

"Good girl," Benny breathes out in a husky tone.

The tension in your gut coils tighter at the praise, and you keen as you sink a finger into your wet cunt.

"You're probably fuckin' soaked for me already, aren't you?" he asks, and you can't help but spread your thighs wider as you roll your hips into your own touch, drunk on the way his deep drawl purposefully caresses each syllable that rolls off of his tongue.

You nod, biting down on your lip hard as you insert a second finger and begin pumping the sopping digits in and out of your tight walls.

Benny can't hide the moan that rumbles up through his throat as he watches you finger fuck yourself, and out of the corner of your eye, you see as he presses the heel of his palm to his erection.

"Gonna fuck me, Ben?"

He pauses, the corners of his lips curving upward in a smile as he scoots closer to you, but he keeps his hands to himself. "Not yet. Let me see your fingers."

You whine at the loss of contact on your throbbing cunt, pulling out the digits to show him the sticky mess you've already made of them. Knowing Benny, you're half certain it's taking everything in him not grasp your wrist and lick them clean.

Instead—

"I want to watch how sexy you look when you make yourself come first, then I'll fuck that pretty pussy," he whispers roughly, and your empty cunt clenches down on nothing, your limbs boneless at the way his voice effortlessly grazes its way down your spine.

And so you let him see.

You let him see the way you shamelessly writhe and moan as you plunge your fingers back into your needy hole, your other hand coming up to tease at your waiting clit.

You let him watch the way your own desperation grows as he grunts while palming his shaft, as he calls you beautiful, as your name falls from his lips.

You let him know just how fucking affected you are by the sound of his voice alone when he finally pants out, "Come for me."

And you do.

Molten lava floods through your veins when your orgasm crests in a hot, roiling wave of pleasure, legs trembling as you firmly plant your feet against the mattress while you ride it out.

Benny looks absolutely fucking wrecked when you turn to look at him, eyes wide, chest heaving nearly in time with yours.

A low whine teeters at the edge of your lips. "Benny, please."

This time, he doesn't hesitate to climb on top of you, lips crashing against yours in a bruising, desperate kiss.

Benny hooks a finger in your panties, pushing them aside as he pulls his achingly hard cock from his boxers and buries himself inside of you.

—

Comments, reblogs, and/or asks are always appreciated!

» GARRETT HEDLUND MASTERLIST » BENNY MILLER MASTERLIST

[katytheinspiredworkaholic]

I’ve been rewatching CM and god, what I wouldn’t give for them to bring TG back for this revival. I haven’t even watched seasons 12-15 yet because I’m in denial about him being gone 😭😭😩

omg I haven't watched it either xD I've been holding off watching s11e22, The Storm, for like a month I swear. Which, I know is going to be amazing but I also have heard it's the beginning of the end and I'm not readyyyyyyy.

I would give anything for TG to come back. A n y t h i n g. But idk what CBS feels is the appropriate amount of time to be blacklisted or whatever the hell they did 🤷‍♀️ despite how it would be so easy to write him back in, and the missed opportunities is already making my skin crawl.

Okay. This was going to be a quick answer, but I've been THINKING about this way more than I should lately, without ever having watched 12-15 but I feel like I know enough, and with all the projects I'm going to be finishing/starting soon I know I won’t have time to do anything with my ideas. So I'm just going to type this little beginning I have plotted out and maybe one day I'll make it into the fic I want it to be:

(I know you didn't ask for a hc/blurb thing but surprise you get one xD)

CW: Spoilers for season 11-15 that are probably inaccurate af, fighting, violence, bit of blood and injuries talk, some profanity. 

-

((I legit have this all plotted out like a full season, and picture everything as shots and scenes and I know exactly how I would want to bring Hotch back.))

-

It would start in a small suburban town in Indiana, legit white-picket fence, middle of nowhere, off the grid town. With the most pedestrian name ever, we might as well call it Mayberry. Typical weekend morning, bright green grass and trees and summer sunshine lighting it all up, they still get papers delivered it’s that picturesque. And it’ll pan to all sorts of people on this street of nice, two-story houses, and finally zero in on not the man picking up his paper from his front porch, but the jogger slowing down that the man calls to next door, calling him a name we’ve never heard before -- but the jogger answers with that dark eyed squint and a nod... and it is Aaron Hotchner. Or the man who used to be Aaron Hotchner. He hasn’t gone by that name in years, WITSEC provided him and Jack with new ones.

His house isn’t even really decorated like a home, he’s been in enough over the years to know tell-tale signs of what a happy home should entail. Photographs, memorabilia, nostalgia tucked away in corners -- they don’t have that. He has a couple of photographs he keeps in his office, the only two in inconspicuous view being a photo of Haley and Jack when he was two years old, and a photo of his team the day he completed the FBI triathlon and they all showed up to support him. Everything else of their old life is in boxes in a storage facility in downtown D.C., under another false name that can never be linked back to them. 

Mr. Scratch was a poor excuse for why he and Jack were still under WITSEC, but he hopes near daily that it was enough of a reason that no one would question why he didn’t return once that monster was dead. That no one smart enough to read between the lines would go digging for more reasons, or worse -- try to find him -- and they pictured him living a happy retirement very similar to the charade he is living now. 

But Aaron Hotchner was never meant for retirement. No matter how easy and simple his days have been the past few years. It was only a matter of time. 

He walks through his home that looks more like the insides of a Home Living magazine, to his kitchen which is bright and spacious and tiled white that he knows Haley would have loved, getting a glass of water from the sink and chugging it all in one go. It isn’t until he’s getting a second glass that he hears it. The faucet was supposed to have masked any disturbance, they were careful in when they moved, how they placed their feet, the slowness of the their approach -- but not enough.

Hotch keeps his shoulders relaxed, his spine still ram-rod straight but that’s just how he stands and it keeps tension ready at a moment’s notice. Keeps him on alert, which he needs as he takes slower sips of water and lets all his other sense shift to a heightened awareness. Knows this house like the back of his hand, even if he’s never allowed himself to consider it home, so he knows which floorboards creak and where all the furniture is strategically placed. Always prepared for something like this to happen, even if he never imagined someone would be so bold. 

Their mistake.

With a careful tick of his head, peripherals his only guidance, he strikes before the intruder gets to. An iron grip and momentum that propels their face into the metal of the sink basin, shocking them that what their file was so misleading about their target. Retired FBI agent, almost 60 years old, living in Pleasantville with a picket fence and a vegetable garden. This should have been easy. The intruder is stunned by the blow, attempts a quick recovery where they lash out and get a few good body shots into the older man -- but he’s built like a brick wall, can take a blow and give it back twice as hard -- a few more precise hits and another crack of their face to the sink that shatters the bridge of their nose leaves the attacker slumping to the floor. 

“You didn’t do your research,” Hotch tells them, breathing a little heavy, opening up a drawer usually deemed for junk and pulls out zipties and an ancient looking cell phone buried deep at the back. “Sloppy. I expected more from him.” 

The attacker kicks out Hotch’s knees in a fit of rage (at having his skill set insulted so), leaving them both crashing to the floor. They grapple and fight a bit more, knocking dishes from the counters and pots and pans to the floor from the grill top island, but Hotch is so well-trained in take downs he gets the slighter man pinned with only a split lip and a single hitch in breath. He barely broke a sweat. Knocks the guy out clean, two solid punches to his face, and he stops because he knows better. Has been there before, and they need to question whoever was sent to his house to kill him. 

He’s barely off the floor, the intruder binded and stuck in a corner when Jack walks in from early morning soccer practice. Takes one look at the kitchen, his dad with blood in the corner of his mouth, and the guy all in black bound by zipties and already knows what happened. Sixteen, nearly as tall as his father now, he looks only mildly worried for all of two seconds until he sees that his dad has an old flip cell phone held up to his good ear, awaiting a connection with their handler in Indianapolis. 

“... Does this mean we get to go home?” 

The shot would pan back to Hotch, and he wouldn’t answer him, just tells the person on the phone to ‘patch him through, they have a situation’, and there would be no very obvious look in answer to Jack’s question. But all of us who know him, know the subtle changes in expression and the slight softening to that stern frown, knows what his reply would have been.

-

The very next scene would be the BAU. JJ and Emily walking at a brisk pace covering a debrief, since they basically run the department now. Everyone has been called in, everyone, retired and moved away and even the ones who cut all ties have been contacted. JJ has just gotten off the phone with Elle, who is working as a liaison in Rome and assured her that if anyone showed up in her home to attack her that they would be leaving in a body bag. But she appreciated the heads up. 

In the bullpen it’s more like a family reunion than anything. Garcia has just gotten off the elevators, a flurry of color and blonde curls and bright as ever, Morgan and Savannah are trying to corral Hank and the twins (both girls and pure chaos now that they can walk) while still making introductions with the new team and their families, and asking if Reid or Rossi know anything about what’s going on as JJ gets there and asks for everyone’s attention. 

“Not everyone is here yet, Kate and her family are on their way from upstate, Will’s getting the boys from school, and Alex and her husband are on a plane, but we need to get started as soon as possible.”

“What’s is going on, JJ?” Morgan asks, passing off one of the twins to Penelope who is in full baby fever mode despite what is obviously a very bad circumstance that has brought them all together. It’s a juxtaposition that has put everyone on edge. It doesn’t help when JJ and Emily look at each other as if in confirmation, trying to decide who is going to tell them.

“Okay, that doesn’t inspire confidence,” Rossi points out. “What happened?”

Emily sighs and makes a gesture for JJ to take the floor, since she has been on point for most of this.

The bull pen is silent in anticipation.

“Earlier this morning, Hotch was attacked in his home in Indiana,” she says, and whatever anyone thought was going on -- that wasn’t it. The shock across the room is like a bomb has detonated.

Rossi curses something out in Italian, looking down, and JJ immediately realizes how this all sounds. But doesn’t even get to backtrack as Reid looks completely devastated and Garcia like she’s about to cry and everyone else starts shouting questions at her. 

“What happened to Jack?”

“How did they even find him? What the fuck is wrong with WITSEC?!”

“Is he okay?” asks Tara, the only intellectual who can see the panic now blooming on JJ’s face.

“Yes, yes! He’s okay, sorry, no -- Hotch is fine. The guy who tried to kill him... not so much, but he should be conscious soon so they can question him.” 

“Jesus Christ, JJ,” Morgan says looking like he just aged ten years in the past 30 seconds. “Lead with that.”

“Sorry, I’m sorry. He’s okay, Jack is okay, they’ve been picked up. But... there’s a lot we need to be filled in on,” she admits, which quiets the room once more. “Apparently, the WITSEC had nothing to do with Mr. Scratch. There’s something much bigger and more dangerous going on, and he went under to keep us all safe. As well as himself, and Jack.” 

“What is it?”

JJ makes a gesture with her hands splayed as she looks a little lost. “I only know bare bones, we have to wait to hear the specifics and get everyone somewhere safe.” 

“You think we’re going to trust WICSEC after this?!”

Emily intervenes this time, “We have a plan, or... Hotch has a plan, I think. We’re just learning about everything as we go, he’s really the one that knows the most about it.”

“Then where is he?” Morgan speaks up again. “If he’s been pulled out, and we’re all in danger, why isn’t he here explaining this to us himself?” 

It’s a good question, and everyone looks expectantly at the two women leading the informal briefing. 

“Will he come back at all?” Reid asks, speaking up for the first time. It’s been years, that’s a long time to rethink a life like the BAU, and everything it entails.

JJ takes a deep breath. “He’s... in--”

“Out-processing.” 

Hotch is at the back of the room. Everyone turns to him, even JJ and Emily look surprised to see him so soon.  ((But we all know the CM cinematography love that kind of return shot, so I’m catering to it. For situational parallels if nothing else. Imagine the gif sets.))

“I pushed it as fast as they could go, but WITSEC always drags their feet.” The familiar drone, dry barely-there-humor, breaks whatever spell that had been over the room at the sight of the old Unit Chief. Disbelief and relief and stunned surprise litter every expression, and although Penelope looks like the first to say something, her words change course just as she opens her mouth. Because  Hotch is still in civilian clothes, a duffle-bag over his shoulder he used as a go-bag for decades, and beside him with a bag of his own with messy dirty blonde hair is--

“Oh my God, is that Jack!?” she near sobs, the teenager smiling at her in a way that looks so much like Haley, and she goes to hug him first with the boy meeting her halfway. “You’re so tall! And so grown up, look at you!” There’s definitely tears and the team converges on the Hotchners all at once. Reid hugs Hotch first, as tight and bone-crushing as that night in Atlanta all those years ago, followed soon after by Rossi who looks like he might shake the man but just hugs him tight and plants an absurdly embarrassing kiss on his cheek that finally cracks Hotch’s expression into something like a smile. Everyone hugs, everyone, Savannah calls him Aaron instead of Hotch because that was how he’d introduced himself all those years ago, the twins wave shyly and he shakes hands with the newer members that never got to meet him but have heard very tall tales about him for years and years. 

(And y’all, it would be the best damn scene and I would sob like a baby watching it.)

Morgan would be the one that would hold back and let the others go first, but it would also be the most profound when Hotch goes to shake his hand and the other man uses that to pull him into a tight hug of his own. 

“I’m glad you can still hold your own,” he’ll tease with nearly no heat behind it. Hotch hears it for the caring that it is.

“Like hell I would let that happen twice in my own home,” he assures him. 

Everyone settles down, and Emily leads some finer points of what’s going to happen with everyone in the next few hours. Days. Weeks, even, because there’s no knowing what is going to happen next. Hotch observes her, and there HAS to be a shot where she glances over to him and they share a look of understanding -- because she is Unit Chief now, and he approves of what he sees. 

But she turns the floor over to him, and Hotch explains what’s going on.

((I’m going to leave the finer points out about the case and the unsub, mostly because I haven’t finished ironing them out yet and I hope once I watch the remaining season I will be able to much more easily))

But at SOME POINT in the briefing, when Hotch is explaining what happened with the assassin in his home and how he apprehended him, and Emily maybe interjects with the injuries sustained and that they are still waiting for the man to regain consciousness. Penelope will 100% lean over to where Jack is sitting beside her and say without flinching, “Your dad is such a bad ass.”

((I also plan on bringing up Reid was in prison in this scene but it will be more humorous than anything because of Hotch’s reaction, stay tuned on that one. Again I’m not there yet))

((and where I’m taking them is also a secret because I need to do research and it will be so damn cool, but Hotch has everything completely planned out -- like he does. Goes as far as asking the few who question him “Secure enough for you?” when he drops where they will be staying and the protection they will have. Full blown mic drop moment.))

“So gather all of your belongings that you have here. Secure pets and homes, call the kid’s schools, whatever you need to do,” Hotch informs them, stepping back into his old shoes as team leader without even meaning to. But no one tells him to stop. “We need to be in the air ASAP, the jet is being prepped as we speak so we need to move on this.”

He leaves it at that, and everyone doesn’t move. Watching, waiting, smirking a little bit (Penelope, maybe even Reid), until he gives in.

“Wheels up in 30.”

Garcia giggles so much she near cackles with it. “Oh, I just got goosebumps!” And by Emily’s smirk and Morgan’s shared grin with Reid, a million watts between them, everyone is up and moving and pulling out cell phones to get their affairs in order.

Rossi sidles up to Hotch at that point, also openly smirking that they got him to say those four time-honored words. “Welcome back, Aaron.”

And Hotch, well -- he looks around the room at the family he had to leave behind without any hope of seeing them again, and feels every hardened edge in his face and demeanor soften. Before he looks to Dave and tells him what’s been going through his head ever since he walked back through the doors of the BAU.

“It’s good to be home.”

((END SCENE))

[modern-vellichor]

Helloo :) I hope it's okay to request an imagine 🙈 maybe a bucky one where you're both in love with each other but didn't talk about it. Then maybe at the party (at the beginning of age of ultron) you both spend a great and fun time together until ultron breaks in and the fight begins. You get hit and hurt terribly and Bucky freaks out when he sees your broken body. Then he stays by your bedside until you wake up and you both finally confess your feelings. Later then he cares for you and all fluff ❤️ I hope it's okay

hey there! I would just like to say: I have seen most of the marvel films. I was a child of marvel, but I cannot remember anything that happens before like Ragnarok so I’m sorry :) I did rewatch the scenes and i took some lines directly from them so spoiler alert ig. it also took me a fat minute to realise that Bucky isn’t in the scene lol but enjoy doll xx Warnings; graphic description of injury, blood, Bucky fluff :), minor age of Ultron spoilers soz

The dress hugged your form perfectly. It glittered in the dim light of the party. You had found home next to Bucky. He kept a hand loosely on the small of your back, and you leaned into his side. A sparkling smile graced your features for the duration of the party. 

You loved Bucky with your whole heart, as a friend and more. You wanted him to grab your hips and pull you in for a searing kiss. You wanted to feel his teeth against your skin. you wanted your touch to roam the vast expanse of his chest.

You had a wonderful evening. You spent the night attached to Bucky’s hip. You danced and laughed and drank. You were drunk on each other’s presence. The night began to quiet down and you settled next to Maria. Bucky on your other side. Your smile was wiped from your face as you brought your attention away from Bucky and to Maria. A deep frown suddenly landed on your features. Bucky watched as you listened, whispering for Maria.

You heard a metallic thunk, and then mechanic whirring. You pulled a gun from a holster on your thigh, silently cocking the gun and turning the safety off. You were ready to attack. The thuds and the whirring grew louder, you stood up, alerting the team of your anxiousness. They saw the gun hidden behind your back and readied themselves.

The disembodied robot rounded the corner, your breath caught in your throat. It was mumbling cohesively under its breath. You studied the beast, worry growing as you assessed the situation, and it didn’t look good.

“No,” it grumbled. You took a defensive step forward, it was small as you tried to quell your shaking. “How could you be worthy?” Your eyes widened and you opened your mouth to respond, but stopped yourself. Perhaps it was a simple malfunction. “You’re all killers.” It pointed at the group, but its wired finger lands on you, it lingers. It stays on your person, almost as if the thing had a grudge against you.

Steve and Stark mumbled quietly behind you, but it was frantic. Words fell from your lips before you could stop them. “Its justified, is it not?” It gazed upon you with a broken smile, it ignored your question. Maybe it was a malfunction, a simple prototype acting up. It didn’t respond to you, it wasn’t coherent.

“Sorry, I was asleep,” it said. It turned its head away from you, as if in thought. Was it confused? “Or, I was a dream.” It shook its head. Parts of it were missing. Wires were exposed in all its joints, the voice box was breaking. Fluid dripped from its arm as it swung about. Surely, it was about to fall apart. One bullet in the right place and this would all be over.

“I had to kill the other guy, he was a good guy” it said, hunched over. It acted like it was in pain.

“Who?” You asked. It ignored you once again, but when Steve spoke to it, it responded. It stood up, towering over you as you gripped the handle of your gun even harder. You took another small step forward. You were looking for a weak spot. 

“Ultron,” Bruce mumbled.

“In the flesh,” it confirmed. An idea dawned upon you, you scrambled away from the being, desperate to put as much space between you and it as possible. It laughed at your feeble attempt to flee, unaware of the plan being formulated. It finally addressed you.

“Scared, little one?”

“Not of you,” you said coolly, a small smirk on your lips. Maria stood up, and so did Bucky,

“You should be.”

Suddenly, two other robots came flying through the drywall. You launched your attack. You used the couch, using its projectile to fling you towards the bot. Ultron grunted as you landed on its back, your thighs tightened around the makeshift neck. You began to frantically cut any wires you could, but it was no use. It grabbed you with one hand and flung you across the room. You hit the wall, crumpling to the ground in a pathetic manner.

Bucky shouted for you, but you ignored him. You grabbed your gun from where it lay a few feet away from you. You began to shoot at Ultron, but it seemed invincible. You continued to launch your attack. You tried to escape, tried to find a control panel, or an override button. But one of Ultron’s sidekicks kicked you square in the chest, sending you stumbling backwards.

Bucky called out for you, tried to help you, but it was to no avail. You were immersed in the fight, there was no distracting you now.

No matter how many hits you took, you never stayed on the ground for long, Blood was soaking your dress and dripping from your face. It was matting in your hair and dripping into your mouth. You walked with a limp and your breath came wheezing out, your chest was heavy. You didn’t relent in your ruthless attack on the enemy.

Some of the team ran, others were flung from the building. But you stayed and fought. While Tony had gotten his hands on one, Thor had stunned another. It lay on the floor. You quickly jumped into action, removing plates and fumbling with wires as you tried to rewrite its code in such a small time frame. But the light in its eyes sparked again and it flung you off its back. With the help of Steve and Thor, you successfully managed to ‘kill’ it. You were probably going to use it for parts.

Three robots had fallen, and you were injured the worst. You weren’t superhuman, and you weren’t a god. You had been the first to launch yourself at Ultron without any protection, you had been the only one to get near Ultron. The other bots had thrown you around like a ragdoll, but you were stubborn and refused to give up the fight. 

“That was dramatic,” Ultron wheezed. He paced back and forth. He gazed at you as you stalked slowly towards him. “You don’t know when to stop, that’ll get you killed.” He stated nonchalantly to you, but you ignored him. He continued his monologue. “I’m sorry, I know you mean well, you just didn’t think it through... There’s only one path to peace,” he grunted, discarding the body of one of his own, it sparked on the ground. Thor threw his hammer at the villain, he hit him square in the chest. Ultron fell apart as if he were nothing.

You breathed a sigh of relief and collapsed. You fell onto ground covered in shards of glass that tore open your skin. Shards of metal and live wires sparked dangerously close to you. You panted as you let out a strained and pained groan. Bucky was quick to your side, helping you off the floor. Your vision was going, you had lost a lot of blood and your veins were still oozing.

“Hey, Bucky,” you grinned, your voice breaking as your eyes began to shut.

“Yes, doll?” He asked, frantically trying to keep you awake as he dragged you away from the scene, with Steve’s help. 

“I think its time for bed.”

Bucky opposes your proposal, but Bruce insists that sleep is the best thing for you right now. And Steve says that Bruce can be trusted, and that Bruce knows what he’s doing. So Bucky allows you to slip into a deep slumber while he slumps into a chair next to your bed.

You woke up after a few hours. Your body was stiff and bruised but the bleeding had stopped and Bruce had reset your ribs.

“Good morning, soldier,” you smiled at Bucky as he crawled gently into bed next to you. 

“Good morning,” he mumbled back, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “You’re an idiot.”

“We won, didn’t we?”

“You nearly died.”

“So, what? I signed up for this, you’re gonna break a couple ribs fighting killer robots. Haven’t you ever seen terminator?”

“What would I do without you?” He scolds. “You were just prepared to leave me? Without a proper goodbye?”

“You would have moved on,” you scoff, attempting to roll away, but his grip on you tightened and you winced. “Its not like we’re married, Barnes.”

“What if I want to marry you?” He interrogated. He raised his voice, and you lost yours completely.

“Do you want to marry me?” You asked slowly, gazing into his tired eyes.

“Not yet, i mean. I’d like to-”

You cut him off by pulling him into a heated kiss. He was gentle with you, wary of your broken body, but sparks flew, and you weren’t worried about anything else.

[capsicletho]

Sledding Away

​

a reader x tony stark and morgan stark one shot by @beaubatns

gif credit: @marvelgifs​

trigger warning: Get ready for a whole bunch of fluff!

word count: 1.3k

summary: It’s snowing at the cabin and Tony and Morgan loved spending time in the snow, but when dad has to help mom prepare for dinner, Morgan has other mischievous ideas.

author’s note: This my first time rewatching Endgame after I first watched it in theatres and I choose to focus on Tony’s happy domestic life instead of the sad ending. I don’t know if this has been done before, but here’s my take on this little headcanon! 

“Alright, Little Miss, Daddy’s gotta go help Mommy make dinner,” Tony groaned, his own weight straining him as he pushed himself off the ground. “Are you gonna be okay here for a while?”

“Yeah,” Morgan grinned, comfortably sitting on the little bean bag chair Tony had fit inside the igloo they built while watching an episode of Doc McStuffins that was projected on the wall.

“Okay. Don’t go anywhere, okay?” Tony reminded her before hunching out of the cramped igloo.

From the kitchen, you could see Tony crawl out of the igloo he had made with Morgan. Well, Tony did all of the work with the help of Dum-E and U; Morgan mostly just sat on her little chair for moral support with some snickerdoodles and the hot cocoa that Tony had poured into a small thermos cup lid. Then again, Dum-E mostly knocks holes into the walls while U records the whole thing, so really it’s just Tony.

You smiled as he spotted you staring out into the playground from the kitchen. Tony glanced back one more time into the igloo to make sure Morgan is safe before heading into the house.

“She’s having fun,” he chuckled, immediately washing his hands and then checking the oven where a pie crust was blind baking.

“Is she gonna be okay there alone?” You asked, placing sliced Granny Smith apples into a bowl to start the pie filling. 

“Yeah, Dum-E’s feeding her snickerdoodles as we speak,” Tony eased your worries by placing his phone on the countertop which displayed your daughter lounging on her tiny bean bag chair with blankets and dolls watching her favourite show and drinking some cocoa while Dum-E held a small plate of snickerdoodles right next to her.

You smiled, your worries assuaged because of course Tony knew to put his surveillance cameras as baby monitors inside the igloo before leaving his daughter alone there to help you out in the kitchen. 

“Where do you want me?” He asked.

“Get started on the pasta for me,” you said. Tony was not exactly the best cook, but the chances of burning pasta is minimal and all he has to do was get them out of the box and wait for 8 minutes, so you knew it was a task you could trust him with. 

“Alright,” Tony obeyed and began to work. Once a while, he glanced at the monitor displaying Morgan and then out the window at the igloo.

You continued with the apple pie filling, combining all the ingredients in a pot. “Oh, I walked by the tower the other day,” you told him. Although you were living the quiet life now, you still come to work every now and again just to make sure things are in order and you happened to walk past the Stark Tower. “People were coming out dressed as Elvis Presley, I think they’re having a contest or something,” you laughed.

“What?” Tony looked at you, incredulous. 

“Maybe there’s a lookalike contest or something,” you giggled.

“Jesus Christ,” Tony shook his head. “That tower used to be where a puny deity from outer space gets his face bashed in, but sure, Elvis Presley is a legend,” he remarked sarcastically.

You and Tony very invested in the Elvis Presley lookalike contest and laughters that the two of you missed the scurry of little snow-boots-clad feet leaving the igloo and making its way into the garage. You turned around as the oven dinged, signalling that your pie crust was done and took them out, placing them on the counter when you noticed the flash of a familiar red and blue against the white snow.

You looked up to see Captain America’s vibranium shield floating on tiny little legs. The scene did not register to you until Morgan set the shield down on the snowy ground, star spangled-side down.

“Oh my God, Tony. Babe!” your right arm flailed around to catch Tony’s attention from across the room and pointed out the window. Abandoning the strained pasta on the countertop, Tony looked out the window with you to see Morgan sitting on the concave of the shield and pushed herself down the little hill of your cabin.

You yelled her name and Tony cursed, immediately running to the door and ignoring the fact that neither of you were wearing anything thick enough to keep you warm against the freezing weather. It was too late, however, because the little Stark spawn was already zooming past you and Tony with her gleeful giggles echoing across the property. U was right across from the two of you, recording everything as the two of you ran after Morgan. It would have been comical if it was not for the fact that you are getting a heart attack over your daughter’s antics.

“Tony, do something!” You pleaded in panic, but he was already one step ahead of you. Red and gold flashed right next to you, enveloping Tony’s form and he flew off in high speed to catch Morgan before she could make it to the barriers of the property.

You slowed down and stopped running as soon as Tony caught up to Morgan, floating right in front of her and putting his hands on the rim of the shield to overcome the inertia as smoothly as he could.

“Where do you think you’re going? Didn’t I tell you to wait in the igloo?” Tony reprimanded her with the gentlest warning tone a parent would ever use. It is part of the reason why Morgan was as mischievous as he was, because not only did she inherit the trait from him, but she also knew that her Daddy did not have the heart to be stern with her.

“Hehehe, hi, Daddy,” Morgan giggled as Tony lifted the shield off the ground, carrying her back towards you in it. 

Tony landed in front of you as you put two hands on your hips. God, you were turning into your mother; you always hated when she did that because you knew what was coming, and Morgan did too. She put on the best puppy eyes and little pout that she could muster to get into your good graces.

“Morgan H. Stark, what did you think you were doing?” You lifted her off the shield and onto your hips.

“I’m sorry, Mommy,” she hid her face in the crook of your neck. Tony’s suit disappeared to reveal a smirking and proud father as he brushed the snow off the shield. You shot a look at him, not wanting his proud smile to encourage the behaviour.

“Do not do that again, okay? Not when there’s no one to watch you, because you might have been hurt,” you told her, brushing her hair back in order to look her in the eye.

“Does that mean I can do it again now?” Morgan reasoned now that the two of you are there to supervise her.

It took all your strength not to laugh. “No, because dinner is almost ready,” you said and Morgan pouted, leaning her head on your chest to look away from you. No matter how hard it was, you had to let her know that what she did was not okay and letting her do it again would only encourage her more. 

You turned around and trudged back into the house, Tony right next to you, gently poking on the girl’s waist to catch her attention. Morgan’s head did not move, but her eyes were trained at him.

“Tomorrow,” Tony mouthed quietly and Morgan’s face lit up with a smile. You looked at the two of them and shot them a warning look, but your lips could not hide the smile you have been holding any longer. Tony pressed his index finger to his lips and Morgan stifled a giggle as the two of you entered the house.

[brandstifter-sys]

Carry On

Five Times Remus Swept Virgil Off His Feet (and One Time Virgil Returned the Favor)

That's a FOB title if I ever saw one

Word Count: 2927                          (Ao3)

Characters: all sides

Pairing: Dukexiety

Rating: T

Warnings: self-doubt, sex mention, swearing, mild gore mention, undertale references, dc comics references, charlie the unicorn references

inspired by @sanders-sides-uncorrect-quotes‘ post linked here

One…

Sans. Virgil truly hated this battle, but he was set on finishing this run to get to the true ending the next time around. Too bad he was getting his ass handed to him by a punny pile of bones!

He growled to himself as his fingers frantically danced over the keys. He didn't care if anyone came into the common area while he was there, he couldn't afford the stress from his room and everyone knew to stay away from him or else.

Remus was not one of those sides who did what he was supposed to do all the time. So when he popped up in the common area, he didn't think twice about lounging on the couch next to his favorite emo.

"Oh come on!" Virgil snapped at his computer as he lost again. He clawed at his hair and let out a long, agonized groan before flopping back on the couch. His hands were shaking and his heart was racing. He was one more loss away from committing murder.

"Uh oh!" Remus giggled and got up. He closed the laptop and grinned at Virgil as the emo tried to murder him with his eyes.

"What do you want?"

"Me? Well I have to make a delivery to the Grand Duke of the Imagination! And you have what I need!" Remus hummed and wiggled his shoulders. Virgil scowled and crossed his arms.

"What are you talking about?" he huffed, ignoring the mischievous twinkle in Remus' eyes. That was a mistake!

Remus swooped down and scooped him up bridal style, laughing at Virgil flailing in his arms and squawking like a gull. He would never drop him out of nowhere! Silly emo could trust him!

"I'm taking you to the Grand Duke so he can spoil you and cheer you up! By any means necessary!" Remus purred and winked, bringing a delightful blush to Virgil's face.

"What the hell?"

"You are my damsel in distress and I don't even have to slay a monster to make sure you're okay—unless you want me to, there's definitely a monster I want to see, in your—"

"No. I am so done with monsters today. Don't even make that joke. Just do what you were planning," Virgil huffed and averted his gaze, no longer squirming to get away. Remus could live with that as long as he could keep holding this tall drink of water!

Two…

Remus was just polishing his morning star when he decided it was a good time to harass his brother and talk about the only thing they seemed to agree on: butts!

He appeared in the common area to the sound of a Disney movie, it would have been perfect, but Roman was not alone on the couch. Oh no, he could clearly distinguish a mop of purple hair next to the prince’s own preened locks. Neither one seemed to notice the duke looming behind them, which was good. Surprising Roman was way too much fun!

“How can you claim this isn’t romantic and charming?!” Roman grumbled as Prince Philip and Briar Rose began to dance and sing in the forest. Virgil snorted and shook his head.

“There’s nothing more romantic than a total stranger in his 20s swooping in and interrupting a 16 year old girl’s furry fantasy without an introduction or asking,” Virgil droned sarcastically. He snickered at the offended gasp that came out of the prince’s mouth and shifted in his seat.

“You wanna pause this and grab some popcorn? My leg fell asleep.”

Before Roman could move Remus struck.

“Hello there! The angel from my nightmares, the shadow in the background of the morgue!” he sang and scooped Virgil into his arms, twirling around with the brightest grin imaginable. Virgil squeaked and clung to him, more out of surprise than fear. He should have seen it coming.

“I think my point stands,” Roman teased, smirking at the pair like a cheshire cat. Virgil shot him a death glare, daring him to say anything more while Remus giggled impishly between verses.

“Perhaps you should take care of that leg and we can continue later. I would hate to rob you of a moment like this!” the prince continued, making Virgil flush and plot his end. Remus laughed and brushed Roman off.

“Looks like I’m the dashing heroic prince today! Better luck next time Hoe-man!” he sang and sunk out for some much needed cuddles. Roman rolled his eyes, ignoring the sleight in favor of appreciating how cute those two could be. Plus he could rewatch his movie without critique!

Three…

Virgil was exhausted. After a long study session for the next video, making sure that Logan knew his lines and keeping Janus from making them take a break, all he wanted to do was fall into a coma. But he was still in the common area and he would have company if he didn't move, but that meant moving. He drooped, letting his limbs hang off the couch, wishing he had the energy.

That was a mistake, and he knew that he would regret it. Especially when something slimy glided up the back of his hand.

"Gross," he grumbled, not bothering to look at the culprit. Remus giggled and licked his hand again before kissing it. He got off the floor and on one knee, smiling at his emo.

"You know you love me!" he teased and brought Virgil's hand to his lips again, "You're like my personal damsel in distress and I just love saving you and making you feel like a princess!"

"I'm not a damsel, just tired. Can I take a nap in peace?"

"Not out here, Scare Bear! You know it gets crazy with the others around!" Remus giggled and scooped him up without any struggle.

"If you take me to your dungeon to do horrible things to me in my sleep, make sure I have both kidneys intact."

"No promises, Charlie!" Remus teased and resituated Virgil so he could rest his head on his shoulder, "But I can promise you a comfy bed and the best snuggle buddy ever!"

"You're bringing Winary? Hellhounds don't make for great cuddles. They stink of brimstone," Virgil mumbled against his neck.

"Nope! You get to cuddle with a stinky dukey!" Remus countered and walked towards his room with his precious cargo.

"I'd rather cuddle with you," Virge mumbled and curled into Remus' chest.

"But I am a stinky dukey!" he said, fighting back the urge to squeal. Virgil huffed and wrapped his arms around Remus.

"I like your scent. It's comforting, like a puppy that likes mud."

"You Sir are exhausted!" Remus declared, "And you are taking a long nap with me so you can get that snark back!"

"You better be there when I wake up," Virge answered, barely able to keep his eyes open. Remus was happy and he was sure to be there the whole time.

Four...

"Virgil, you can't just call Remus every time something mildly inconvenient happens. He's not your footman," Janus huffed as Virgil curled into himself. He was going to summon Remus for a good reason. It wasn't his fault that the duke showed up every time he stubbed his toe!

"I know that, Snake-face," he huffed, "I don't actually summon him when they happen. He just knows."

"And you do nothing to stop him. It's not good for you to be dependent on him for everything. There's a fine line between self-care and sinking into bad habits."

"I'm not sinking into bad habits, Janus. I'm fine with being toted around if it makes him feel like he's being heroic instead of a villain."

Janus sighed and shook his head. Virgil had a point, Remus needed to feel wanted and needed. And who better to provide that for him than Virgil? Remus adored him!

"And I want him to show up right now," Virgil mumbled and hugged his knees. His skin was crawling and he was freezing. Was it too selfish for him to want to have Remus hold him and keep him close? Was he taking advantage of Remus wanting to be someone's hero? Was he even good enough to get that kind of attention from the duke?

"Remus!" Janus called out, rather than sit by and watch Virgil spiral. He sank out at the same time Remus appeared.

Remus got one look at Virgil and immediately pulled him into his arms. Virgil melted into him and let out a contented sigh.

"Scare Bear!" Remus cheered and spun on his heels, "My spider sense was tingling! What's wrong, Bitter Sweetie?"

"I just need some creature contact," Virgil grumbled, "and you're the most comfortable creature I know."

"So no slaying your demons or disemboweling anyone?" Remus giggled and dropped Virgil on the couch before flopping on him. Virgil shifted and wrapped his arms around Remus' waist.

"Nah, just don't leave. I need a Cuddlefish."

"And you got me for as long you want!" Remus giggled and nestled his head under Virgil's chin.

"You're gonna be here for a while," Virge hummed and soaked in the warmth Remus provided.

"I don't mind," Remus said, "I like it here!" And that was an understatement.

Five…

Remus was just going to the kitchen for a snack—he had some prairie oysters with his name on them! But he paused in the middle of the hallway when he saw Virgil on a step ladder, painting a wrought iron fence mural over his door. He was so focused, so pretty, Remus had to stare.

"You know, creeping on someone who's on a ladder is considered a bad idea."

"Do I look like the guy who has good ideas?"

"No, I should know better, you like me."

"No talking bad about yourself!" Remus growled and loomed closer.

"Oh, that's not what I meant. I mean you like the one guy who can kick your ass and you keep calling him a damsel. Last I checked, I saved you from the Dragon Witch twice this week alone."

"It was hot!" Remus agreed as Virge bent over to get more paint on his brush, carefully holding onto the wall, "But that doesn't mean you can't be a damsel too! You're like Dick Grayson—perfectly capable of kicking ass, but also very much in need of some saving every so often! Plus I think you'd make those shorts look good! Almost as good as I'd look getting into them!" Virgil jolted away from Remus as he was getting up again and lost his balance.

It felt like forever, falling backwards with nothing to grab onto. He was sure the impact would be annoying, but not terrible. If he were any higher up his instincts could have easily taken over and he wouldn't land on his back. But that impact never came. Instead he landed in a pair of strong arms.

"I knew you'd fall for me and my feral mojo!" Remus giggled down at him. Virgil stared at him for a second before swiping his paintbrush over Remus' nose.

"Sure, Puppy, you tell yourself that," Virgil said with a smirk, "It's not at all because you had the audacity to call me Dick Grayson when I'm more of a Jason Todd."

"You're more of a hottie who needs to snuggle with me after that kind of fall!"

"You really need to consider just asking like a normal person," Virgil jeered and kissed his cheek.

"Why would you ever consider that? Boring! You need some excitement in your life and that's where I come in!"

"I thought you came in—"

"Dirty jokes are my job!"

"I thought you came in like Peter Parker on a wrecking ball. Chaotically trying to save me from every mild inconvenience," Virge reiterated and wrapped his arms around Remus' shoulders before kissing his cheek again. Remus was a happy boy.

And then...

It was just perfect! Remus was so excited to finally have a gift for Patton that he would like! He appeared in the common area in the kitchen, just out of sight of the duo watching Looney Toons. Patton and Virgil were in for a treat!

He set Fluffy on the floor and motioned towards the couch. The little thing sprinted off in a pale pink blur and Remus waited for the cooing and squealing from Patton.

His heart shattered when all he heard were horrified screams coming from the father figure. He sank out to his room and fought the urge to cry. Fluffy would be able to get back to the Imagination without him.

Virgil paused the show and watched Patton scoop up the hairless cat with tears in his eyes.

"Look Virgil!" he cheered and held up the cat like she was Simba, "A kitty I can pet!" Virgil blinked twice, confused as to how a cat found her way into the commons. That's when he spotted the green collar around her neck and the silver tag hanging from it.

"Can I keep her Virge?" Patton pleaded as Virgil checked the tag. He had a hunch that Fluffy was meant to be with Patton.

"You're asking me?" he jeered and got up, "Let's find the guy who made her and ask him. I'm pretty sure Remus set her loose to find you."

"Remus? He made this little angel?" Patton gasped and cuddled her to his chest. She purred and kneaded his hoodie, getting him to squeal again.

"I'll go get him, and let you two get to know each other," Virgil said with a half-smile. Patton beamed and him and sat on the couch, cuddling his new best friend. Virgil sank out before the cuteness became sickening.

But any mushy feelings faded when he appeared in Remus' room. Amid the weapon racks and canopic jars, Remus was curled up on his bed, hiding his head between his knees.

"Octopuppy?" Virgil asked softly and sat next to Remus. The duke looked up at him with his makeup running down his cheeks.

"Scare Bear?"

"What's wrong?" he asked and brushed a stray piece of hair from Remus' face. Remus shook his head and let out a ragged sigh.

"I can't make anything good."

"Your dog is not gonna be happy to hear that."

"She's a hellhound with three heads. She's not good or normal. But she's a good girl," Remus grumbled and wiped his eyes. He was not about to cry again. Virgil coaxed Remus into his lap and pressed a kiss to his forehead.

"What makes you think you can't make anything good?"

"I made a cat for Daddykins and I really tried to make her perfect for him. But he screamed at the sight of her. You know, you were there," he pouted and hid his face in Virgil's hoodie. Virgil pouted and held him closer.

"Can I show you something?" he whispered, "Something that can prove you can make something good."

Remus nodded and clung to Virgil as he stood. The emo cradled him to his chest and smiled down at him.

"Looks like you're my damsel this time," he teased and sank out, adoring the blush that crossed Remus' face.

They appeared in the common area kitchen to the sounds of giggles and cooing. Remus looked to Virgil for answers only to get a smirk in return.

"Hey Pat!" Virgil called out and carried Remus into the next room. Patton was curled up in his hoodie, using the string to play with Fluffy. Remus had never seen him so genuinely happy.

"Virge!" he cheered, only to coo at the sight of the gruesome twosome.

"I found Remus, so go ahead and ask."

"Remus, can I keep Fluffy? Please? I'll take good care of her! I promise!"

"I made her for you, so yeah, of course you can," Remus answered, completely stunned. Virgil knew that tone all too well. He had only a matter of seconds before a tsunami of feelings crashed over the duke. He would need cuddles.

"Thank you so much Remus!" Patton squealed and hugged Fluffy, "I'm gonna show her my room!" He sank out, leaving the pair to claim the couch.

"You good, Pup?" Virgil asked and hugged the duke, leaning into the cushions. Remus nodded and nuzzled into his chest.

"Good, because right now you're stuck cuddling with me until my legs fall asleep," Virgil mused and kissed his head. Remus shuddered and his breathing hitched.

"I did good," he whimpered, "I finally did a good and made a good thing."

"Finally? Remus, you make a good thing every day—you make me feel loved. You're my knight in slimy armor."

"That's just cuz I love you."

"I love you too, and I think it's only fair that I get to be your dark knight for a while. Because it's okay to need a little help, even if you don't think you deserve it."

"Who taught you that psychiatry crap?" Remus pouted and hid his face in Virgil's hoodie so no one would see him crying.

"You might know him, he's a wily little imp with a lot of passion, a flair for the dramatic, and macabre tastes. He's a handsome sweetheart and don't even get me started on his butt."

"He sounds like a pain in the neck!" Remus giggled.

"Only if he bites," Virgil snickered, "and he's my hero. So don't you dare try to talk shit about the Grand Duke of the Imagination."

Remus giggled and clung to him. He couldn't ask for a better boyfriend and he was pretty sure he didn't want to either.

[aesthetic-uni]

*crawls my way in* I’M STILL NOT FUCKING DONE BABEY YOU GOTTA DEAL WITH ME FOR AT LEAST TWO MORE POSTS

Alright, Walten Files again. Okay let me be clear, I actually haven’t seen ALL of The Walten Files, because it terrifies me. I’m obsessed with the story but I don’t want to watch it and I’m even scared of looking at fan content. That’s a compliment by the way, keep up the amazing content I’m too scared to see it :D

I’ve only seen the episodes that GT Live has done, because I’m too scared and MatPat’s interruptions make it a lot easier. So I haven’t seen the Halloween Episode, and I think there’s a Christmas Episode? I dunno, but this is to say if I’m missing any known information please let me know I would love to find out more :)

Anyway back to the theories and over analyzing shit. I want to go back to the theory I had in the last post but didn’t really explain.

I believe that Jack was not stuffed in Bon’s suit. I believe rather he was stuffed in the White Bear’s suit, but he was stuffed poorly and had to be hidden in the backrooms. So whenever anyone goes to the backrooms and goes too far, they find Jack’s body. Meanwhile, Bon was programmed to kill anyone who finds his body. Maybe there’s some sort of alert when they find his body, I don’t know, but it’s basically why a lot of the characters were killed (Brian, Ashley, etc.).

This is further proved by the line Bon says “The Shadow Man feeds me.” The Shadow Man, Felix, is luring people out to Bon subtly. Sending people for his relocating project to actually fix Felix.

But what about the line “He thought I was her.” said by Brian? Well that’s actually referencing the White Bear, and how Jack is possessing it. It probably still works, and Jack can possess it and move around. It just so obviously has a dead body in it. And that’s also what Brian was probably screaming about too, “What was that thing?” was the amalgamation of Jack and the White Bear’s bodies.

Although I do also think that Bon’s “Shadow Man Feeds Me” could lead to even darker paths than a program to kill. Some sort of other possession we don’t know about yet?

ANYWAY LETS MOVE ON

Did you know that Sophie was missing too? No? Well now you know! Martin Walls revealed a missing poster of Sophie! However, it was back in 1974, when Sophie’s entire family died. What’s interesting is that she never went missing when the restaurant was open, rather after it went close. And of course, as we know, she was found. This does beg the question if she simply tried to run away because of grief, or did she see something?

If I may propose a crack theory….could she have found her sibling’s graves? I don’t think why she went missing had to do with the restaurant at all, but it could just be before or after she ran away she went to the forest and found the graves of Molly and Ed. Maybe she even found Rocket. And when she was found, not only was Rocket taken away and put in the K-9 facility, but she was then put on pills, probably as a disguise for dealing with depression and grief, but in reality it was to erase her memories.

Which would be why a lot of Bunny Farm centered around Ed and Molly! Sure part of it was because they were the start of everything, but another part of it is because Sophie already knew. She already knew what happened and was made to take those pills to forget! Remember in the Hide and Seek game she chose to check the forest first, and then chose to hide in the forest. That a minor detail but I’m rewatching it and I noticed that. But also when the White Bear appears, he asks Sophie what’s her most repressed memory, and then began showing her what happened to Ed and Molly. I don’t know the full timeline, but Sophie ended up knowing the truth about Ed and Molly way before Bunnyfarm. Maybe she even up finding the truth of everything else that happened.

Unfortunately she ended up forgetting it too.

[szynkaaa]

I more or less watched The Boy!!! And by watching, I mean I skipped more or less through the jump scare parts because I cannot do horror movies at all. I haven’t watched one since 2015 and The Boy was like the first horror movie after five years

Full disclosure, the ONLY reason I started watching the movie was because someone posted a gif of Greta standing close to Brahms who was all sweaty and breathing heavily n I was like “oh shit who dat he hot” and here I am 

Can anyone explain the sandwich scene to me? So Greta was scared shitless and locked herself in her room, but why did Brahms make her favorite sandwich for her?

I did some digging for interviews and generally what people have been saying about the movie, took some screenshots from youtube to put my thoughts and musing together too! 

Can anyone explain the sandwich scene to me? So Greta was scared shitless and locked herself in her room, but why did Brahms make her favorite sandwich for her? 

So first of all, let’s start with a low resolution photo I found on IG of James Russell without mask:

which brings me to my first musing/thought/question? 

It’s all under the cut, very screenshot and text heavy, you can find more Brahms drawing at the bottom though  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

So at the end of the movie, we are shown a Brahms with a broken mask and his face being burned, indicating that he was in fact in the fire.

I assumed first that the fire was created by the parents to fake their sons death and then he had to live hidden inside the walls? 

But I’ve also heard apparently it was Brahms who set the fire to fake his own death or maybe an eight years old kid really was trying to burn himself down?? 

My other theory is that his parents made the fire and tried to kill Brahms and it did burn him but he survived, and the parents didn’t wanna go to jail sooo to hide everything they made their son live in the walls

i mean the responsible thing would be to turn their kid in and have him treated and stuff;;; listened to a murder podcast about two cases where kids murdered enough kids and how they are doing now interesting read Brahms made me think of those two cases 

I also do not think that the previous nannies were killed. Like, c’mon. You’d report a person missing and sooner or later it would go back to the Heelshire mansion and if the body counts piles up? Can’t look good and I doubt that the Heelshire wants the police investigating them close up. 

Also, when the mom was like “He’s chosen you if you’ll have him” to Greta? Is it just me or the wording or does it sound like a marriage proposal/arrangement xD 

Brahms is a brat and he sees the people around him as his possession or to toy around. But I also do think that he has some abandonment issues but not in the sad tragic kind of way lmao. Even if he was the one controlling and manipulating his parents from behind-the-scene (quite literally I suppose?), he was still told as a kid to live in hiding and that no one can know he is alive. I don’t know much about the human brain, but I can imagine how damaging that must be to his mental growth and set him back in some way? We don’t know too much about his relationship with his parents - but I assume that he must have still loved them in his own twisted way. Can’t imagine that he would have been indifferent about his parents suicide. 

The scene before Greta manages to back out - first he uses the child voice to beg her to come back and promises he will be good. That’s his manipulating Greta, but when that doesn’t work and she tries harder to open the door, he becomes more desperate to keep her there and then completely loses his temper and threatens to kill Malcolm if she doesn’t return. I’m pretty sure homeboy would have killed him anyway. And then later when she returns and he is all heavy breathing and smelling her hair and then jumps up when she shouts Brahms? Idk I def think there is some sort of abandonment issue going on. 

I don’t think he is a child stuck in a man’s body or manchild or whatever. I think that he does know how to take care of himself - but he just chooses to manipulate people with the facade of a kid to do his bidding and cater to his needs. 

Anywhomst, but clearly Brahms is also a very manipulative and controlling person based, based on how the mother was reacting on the destroyed bedroom, she really seemed to be at the end of her wits and just breaking down with her “you promised you’d be good”. It was very heartbreaking to watch and also scary because it really makes you realize just how much power Brahms holds over them?? idk maybe it was just me.

Next point: the CGI mask  + the burns 

So according to some interviews with the director stated that at the first test streaming, people weren’t really scared of Brahms because he was too handsome so they had to slap a mask over his face. The face was done after everything was filmed. I’m thinking the face burns were also added post-production when they were adding the cgi mask. Otherwise, James would have needed to go through the makeup department for some wicked face burns and it would have been visible during the filming and test screening too? Which would imply that at first the fire was supposed to be just  a cover story that their son is dead and it was changed later

Observation/thoughts on Brahms Heelshire

Love how he stands there with his hands behind his back and then nods when Greta tells him to go under the cover

James Russell is 191cm tall. So like. Brahms is really fucking tall. But I notice that most of the time he stands with a slight hunch. Could be due to him crawling through the walls and crawling out of places that requires him to do a lot of crouching. His bed in his hideout made me really sad, I’ll get to it later. 

Since James didn’t get many lines in the ten minutes that he appeared, I do think that his eyes did all the acting. They stand out even more with the mask on, there is just this crazy look on it. I also noticed during my rewatch that he doesn’t seem to blink much or at all. 

Oh yeah, he also peeped on Greta and Malcolm making out on the bed and then cockblocked them. We been knowing that he made a Greta doll and very likely jerked off to it. We also been knowing that he very very very likely wanted to bone Greta at the goodnight kiss scene still waiting for the maskeless kiss scene gimme gimme. I also highly doubt that Brahms has much first-hand experience with kissing n stuff. High key thinking he was trying to do copy Malcolm and do what he observed lmao

When I first watched the scene, I assumed that the hole behind the mirror has always been and it’s just another one of the hidden passages Brahms to slip in and out, but now that I’m looking at the shape of the holes, it seems to me more like the mirror and brick wall were broken at the same time?? If that is the case holy shit boy is s t  r o n g. I mean, he also punched through the closet door like no big deal so really what have the parents been feeding him. 

I’m also leaning toward the fact that he ran there because Greta screamed loudly. I don’t think he was in the room as them when everything went down there, it seemed more like he heard the scream and had to nyoomed over and then punched a way through to get out of the wall. And then went on to attack Cole. He must have known that Greta wanted Cole gone, since that what she whispered to the doll before going to bed. 

Tbh, I fully expected him to murder Cole in his sleep, but Brahms wrote a warning message in blood to tell him to get out soooooo like. Cole you were warned and now you gotta live with the consequences ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Brahm’s sleeping corner

This scene was shown at the end after Greta and Malcolm escaped. We also see them briefly during the part where Greta and Malcolm are trying to find a way out and stumbled into Brahms’ hideout. I’m not sure why the rules are slapped on the walls. It seems to me that Brahms is very very very set on that the rules / routine should be followed. In the movie, he called Greta and suggested to her that she should follow the rules, to which she then started doing it.

I headcanon that that’s the routine that he grew up with as a kid and it’s just very very very very very hard to break out of it - not that he is trying to break the routine. 

I’m failing to find a good way to put my thoughts into words, but I guess the rules and routine is sort of his coping mechanism? 

I suppose if you had an OC that you ship Brahms with and want to change stuff around the house, the OC would have to very slowly introduce new rules and routines. Baby steps, yknow.

Brahms has a violin hanging there! Honestly I would be surprised if Brahms didn’t know how to play at least one instrument. The family also has an old ass piano/clavichord (?) and Brahms loves classical music soo yeah. Love me a boy who appreciates classical musical hehe

I suppose the egg boxes are there to soundproof the room more - maybe so he can play the violin? 

There’s also music sheets hung around his attics, it’s not clear on the screenshots but when you rewatch the scene and shove your face close to the screen. Some are hanging next to the violin and there are some taped on the wall next to his bed and porn too

nice to see he has a fridge and microwave, I was concerned that he wasn’t well fed and that leftovers might not be enough, but then again. Dude is 191 cm so clearly he has been drinking his milk

Didn’t take a screenshot of his vanity, but there is a crocodile magnet stuck to the mirror hehe. I do think that he shaves and stuff, otherwise his beard would be much longer??

We can see more music sheets stuck to a pillar on the right. 

Loving the christmas lights that he has hanging there above his bed. It’s cute. 

On the shelf he has a bunch of tupperware and empty bowls. Most of hte things are neatly organized. We can also see some books and a pen

There’s some sunlight streaming inside - I do hope that Brahmsy stays warm during winters.

Here we can see more of the food that he has there - there is also a sink but I didn’t snatch a screenshot of it. I think those are potatoes in the pot? Maybe he does know how to cook some basic stuff, I do wonder if he has a functioning kitchen up there. Probably not for fire safety reasons lol

Yall see that thing on the note sheet covered pillar? Ngl, that’s a whole ass aesthetic right there.

He got a few potted plants up there. Took a closer look at them and it seems like they were healthy. So he knows how to take care of plants, which is nice to know I suppose?

Yes, we all know what he was doing with the doll and what the tissue balled up tissue implies. However, has anyone noticed the size of the bed??? 

If you scroll up a bit to the screenshot of Greta seeing the doll, it looks t i n y. The make shift doll takes up more than half of the space. 

Yall. this breaks my heart. Dude is a beanstalk. I’m pretty sure the bed is from when he was a kid shoved by his parents to live inside the wall, does he have to sleep there in his adulthood too??? 

Even though Brahms strikes me as someone who probably doesn’t sleep much or during normal times, that bed must be so tiny for him. He must be sleeping with his knees bend and shit unable to stretch out :((( 

Brahms: is a psychopath that smashed the skull of a girl and very abusive tormented his parents and then Greta Me: omg he needs a bigger bed that poor thing :(((

Brahms’ DIY corner 

Ah yes, Brahm’s little DIY/creative corner. 

Homeboy got lot of animal traps, cages and taxidermies hanging around, pointing strongly toward that it’s a hobby of it? 

Also at the end where we see him fixing up the doll, we can get a better shot at his desk, and I gotta say the threads and stuff are all very nicely organized. Brahms’s table looks more organized than mine does lmao. 

So we know he is a crafty boy. Not sure how difficult taxidermy is but I imagine it does take a lot of time to learn? Well he had all the time in the world anyway.

So yeah, that’s a wrap. Congrats if you made it to the bottom of my incoherent thoughts and ramblings, have a bonus drawing of Brahms wearing different masks: 

[theimpossiblescheme]

The Rebirth of Lupin III

(I was rewatching Part 4, and this plot bunny took me hostage after watching Episode 14, “The End of Lupin III”.  After what was probably Lupin’s most harrowing near-death fakeout yet, I couldn’t help but wonder about the aftermath, and before I knew it I’d written this.  I hope everyone enjoys it!)

It wouldn’t have been the first time Lupin the Third “died.”  Hell, given his track record, it probably wouldn’t be the last either.  But damn if he hadn’t put on one hell of a show.  Old Pops had been wrapped around his little finger the entire time—the discarded meals, the weakened voice, the repeated talk about the end being near… that final scene with the shared cigarette… the genuine sorrow in Zenigata’s voice, even moreso than all the other times… it was his finest performance yet.

It might also have been his stupidest.

Turned out skipping meals for multiple months, only eating what he absolutely had to in order to finish the painting on the cell floor… that kind of stunt tended to really negatively impact your health.  Go figure. The amount of times he’d blacked out midway through mixing his makeshift paints, or he’d felt the acid from his own empty stomach rising into his throat as he worked… he’d honestly lost count.  Walking made him dizzy, and that last cigarette tasted like nothing so much as burning tar on his lips, even as he forced himself to finish it.  That final scene, hearing his ears ring as Pops spoke and feeling his hands shake under his blanket, really did feel like one.  Empty stage as Lupin collapses before he can even unveil his master plan. Before he can live up to Pops’ faith in him.  Lights out. Curtain.

It had been an honest to God miracle he’d made it farther than that.  Standing to gloat over his victory as Zenigata finally opened the cell made his legs teeter dangerously, and his throat still felt raw, but if he was going to live to see the finale, by God he was going to make it an unforgettable one.  He’d managed to walk away smiling as Pops could do nothing but laugh in hysterical disbelief, and Lupin felt a bit of that hysteria bubbling up in his own lungs, too.  He’d actually pulled it off… damn, somebody up there must really like him.

Somebody out on the bay liked him, too, apparently.  As soon as Rebecca and Robson’s motorboat sped into view, Lupin wasted no time leaping into the water after it.  Finally, another familiar face—even if his limbs felt like they might snap at any moment, he was still going to make it out to them.  To know that Rebecca had made it out alive, that she hadn’t given up on him even after so long.  When she hauled him up into the boat, his head lolled onto her shoulder against her neck, and he noticed her perfume had changed.  Some new label must have sent her fresh samples… she smelled nice, like a fruity cocktail on a summer day…

Rebecca brushed a lock of hair out of his face, and he suddenly became very aware of how long he’d let it get.  “You look terrible,” she said with a very faint smile.

Lupin managed a wheezing chuckle in response.  “Yeah, probably.”

And then he blacked out again.

*

When he came to, he was in an actual bed.  With sheets and a pillow.  What a difference it made on his neck—sleeping on concrete had done him no favors.  On the endtable beside him was a bowl of stew, still hot, and a cup of what smelled like lemon tea.  Not his favorite, but beggars and choosers and all that, and Robson really didn’t have to go to the trouble.  Besides, after so long actively avoiding any food provided him, it smelled goddamn delicious.  Even with his arms and legs still feeling like matchsticks, Lupin still managed to sit up and help himself.  The stew was gone in nothing flat, and the tea was half-finished and cooling by the time Lupin felt strong enough to stand up.  The Rosselini’s guest rooms were comparatively plain next to the rest of the house, but they could still stand up respectably with any of Fujiko’s favorite upscale hotels.  

(Where the hell was Fujiko… or Jigen or Goemon for that matter… best not to think of that right now. He’d only just woken up, after all. There was still time… there was nothing but time now.)

And of course, the décor was hardly the highlight.  Propping himself against the wall, he turned the latch on the window and opened it, letting the morning breeze waft in and the sun warm his face for the second time in God knew how many days.

San Marino was still beautiful.  A jewel too big to pocket, but not too small to admire.  Lupin stood for a long moment drinking in the view before turning to the guest bathroom.

The sight that greeted him there was less than beautiful.  He still had the damn beard and long tangled hair, but that wasn’t the worst of it.  His cheeks had hollowed out into nothing, and his skin had gone so grey and cold from darkness and malnutrition it may as well not be there at all.  A skull framed with dark hair stared back at him from the mirror, and it took all of Lupin’s self-control not to hurl the half-digested stew and tea into the sink.  Of all the times he had to actually almost die, it had to be when he didn’t even look like himself.  A disguise would be one thing—his true face and body would still be underneath—but this…

This wouldn’t do.

Luckily, a razor and shaving cream had been left on the counter for him.  Lupin immediately snatched them up and began to fill the sink with hot water, actually tapping his foot impatiently as it didn’t fill fast enough.  He needed to see his face again, needed to know that it was still him under all this. When the sink was full, he wet the razor and hurriedly slathered the shaving cream across his chin and cheeks, even carelessly getting some into his hair.  This would be fine.  He’d be fine. Good as new, even.

If only his hands would stop freaking shaking…

He lifted the razor to the underside of his chin and instantly felt his hand slip.  A few seconds of panic preceded the bolt of pain as he felt blood drip into his fingers.  Damn it all… dammit dammit dammit, why’d he have to let it go this far?

“Lupin?”

The voice didn’t come from the door, but instead the window.  Lupin barely even processed that before wheeling around, knees weak and face burning with embarrassment.  He couldn’t let anybody see him like this, not even—

“Goemon!”

His samurai still had one leg out the window as he climbed through, but he froze in place upon seeing Lupin framed in the bathroom door.  A hundred different emotions warred in his eyes, and Lupin wanted so badly to run over and hug him before Goemon’s face settled into its usual stoicism. “Is this where you’ve been all this time?”

“Ah… not exactly,” Lupin said sheepishly, reaching a hand to the back of his neck and internally cursing the cold sweat that had gathered in his hair.  “I’m not really sure how long I’ve been here.  Rebecca and her butler came to get me after I got away from Pops.”  Another poor excuse for a chuckle wheezed out of him.  “Lemme tell you… they don’t half kid around locking somebody up here if they want ‘em locked up… it’s a lot worse if you don’t have the key.”

“I can see that.” Goemon finally drew closer, studying Lupin intently.  “You don’t look like you had an easy time of it.”

“Honestly, does anybody have an easy time in prison?  That’s why I try to stay out of it, y’know.”  But it was hard to keep even a weak smile in place, looking at Goemon now… God, he really could have died.  He could have never seen him again, or any of his gang.  Faking a grand exit for the benefit of Interpol, knowing he could return when the coast was clear, was so much different.  And Goemon looked so healthy next to him—he’d even put on a bit of weight for once, which told Lupin that Jigen must have found him a nice Japanese place outside San Marino.  Hell, compared to Lupin’s sorry state, he looked downright beautiful.  It felt like it had been years… Lupin could stand there staring at him for even longer than that.  How must Jigen and Fujiko look at this exact moment?  Were they worried about him?  Were they okay?  All at once, he wished they were all here, together, and that he didn’t look like the freaking Crypt Keeper when he went to greet them.

Goemon reached up and touched Lupin’s cheek with his fingertips, and Lupin tried very hard not to lean into the touch as he had with Rebecca.  “I’m not sure if the beard suits you, though.  Or the long hair.  You look a bit like something else crawled onto your head and died.”

That got a stronger, if extremely wry, smile out of him.  Nice to know both their senses of humor were intact.  “Yeah, not a fan myself… I don’t suppose you could…?”  He raised his eyebrows.

“I’m not using my sword to give you a shave, Lupin.”

“No, not with Zantetsuken, dummy—just use the razor.”  There was the arch, fussy side of Goemon… he had to admit, he’d missed that, too.  Nodding as if he’d understood all along, Goemon picked up the razor and washed away the blood before cupping a hand around the back of Lupin’s neck and letting him lean back as he worked.  His hands were much steadier, almost gentle in their grip, and he was always a few degrees warmer than Lupin himself.  Endless physical exercise would do that, Lupin supposed—ironic, considering how much time he spent under freezing cold waterfalls and out in the snow. Fujiko’s hands were always just on the comfortable side of cold, but she avoided that kind of exertion if she possibly could.

“Where are the other two?” Lupin asked, trying to move his jaw as little as possible so he wouldn’t obstruct Goemon’s work.  “Are they--?”

“They’re both fine.  Fujiko had rented out a beach house on the Italian mainland to wait for you, and Jigen had been spending time at one of the casinos. When I called to let them know you’d escaped, they told me they were on their day—they should be here this evening.”

Thank God…  “So you finally figured out that phone I gave you, huh?”

“I’m not actually from the Sengoku Period, Lupin—I know what a cell phone is and how to use it.” He paused to wash off the razor again, and a very light pink stained his cheeks.  “Fujiko also helped a great deal.  Especially our first night in San Marino.”

“Oh, I’ll bet.”  For once, Lupin hadn’t meant it with any lewd intent, but it didn’t stop Goemon from yanking his head back a trifle harshly as he found a new angle with the razor.  “They’ve gotta be pretty pissed, too… that I took so long.  I know I would be.”

“They’re upset, certainly. But no more than usual for you.” It wasn’t said with any real malice, just as a blunt statement of the truth, but it still stung.  Did it make it any better or worse that for once—out of all the times he’d faked his death—he actually feared it might be for real? Instead of just an act he’d strung them along on for the sake of the greater plan?

Probably worse.  At least all those other times, the plan was to come back.

“I’ll do better next time.” And he really did mean it. Although he’d probably stave off the “next time” for as long as he could—one impregnable prison cell full of rotten uneaten food was enough.  “And I’m definitely not gonna let it go this far.  Believe it or not, the beard isn’t even the worst of it.  With my hands the way they are, I’d hate to think what’ll happen when I need to pee.”

“As long as Jigen doesn’t have to hold you up.”  There was no smile on Goemon’s face, but there was one in his voice.  “And I know for a fact he’ll hold you to that promise.”

Lupin couldn’t help but grimace.  As much as he’d love to see his gunman again… “Yeah, not looking forward to that conversation.  Not just ‘cause I’m gonna bruise like a banana if he punches me.”

“I’ll do my best to separate you.” There was the smile—it softened up the prematurely harsh lines of Goemon’s face as it always did, and Lupin had to remember to keep his head still and resist the temptation to kiss his cheeks until his lips went numb.  Rinsing off the razor again, Goemon tilted Lupin’s head slightly to his right.  “I might be at this for a while—please promise me you’ll never grow a beard again.”

“You got it, man.  And I got all the time in the world.”

[bxthharmon]

Never Go Home Again, Pt. I || JJ Maybanks x Reader

Words: 2667

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

Pt. Warnings: self harm (kind of?)

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

Pt. Summary: the second time she saw him, it was at a kook party.

A/N: Okay so I KNOW i havent finished WB (im not even halfway lol) but i got this idea from rewatching euphoria. you dont have to look too closely to see that ive mirrored a couple of seens, but the plot, while inspired by euphoria, wont be the same. let me know what you think, or if you wanna be tagged!

Chapters linked in my masterlist.

“masterlist”

This story does follow the plot, so beware of any spoilers.

This town seemed too perfect. Sure, you were on the poor side of the town, but the houses were well kept and everyone was happy and friendly. It was as far from home as you could get. You hated this. The boxes stacked up in the boot, and the bags piled up in the seats behind you. The fact that you were over two and half thousand miles away from home. The fact that this was a new beginning you were sure you didn’t need. 

You watched as people loaded boats with shopping bags or crates of beer, and how they all seemed to be happy with their small roles in this small town. It was everything you hated and more.

You looked at your dad, in the seat next to you. He kept his eyes on the road, glancing down while he tried to find a radio station with decent music. He settled on reggae track by Bob Marley, and hummed along. You rolled your window down, smelling the salty air that blew in from the coast even as you wound your way further into the poor housing of this end of the island.

That was when you saw him.

He was on his bike, no helmet, his longish blonde hair waving around his face, and a baseball cap slung backwards over his head. You drove past, pushing your head out of the window to keep the view, and his eyes found yours in a way you couldn’t describe. You held his gaze until the car turned, pulling into a driveway. Your new house.

Your dad turned to you with a long sigh.

“I know you’re not happy about this.” he started, and you looked at his concerned face.

“I just don’t understand how moving almost three thousand miles will change anything.” you reasoned.

“Well, you know why. She’s not here, and you won’t have to deal with all of that shit that happened at school.”

“So we’re running away?”

“Y/N, just give this place a chance.”

You nodded. “Dad, how can we afford this?”

He looked at you defeatedly.

You continued, “I mean, with the divorce, and what she did, how could we afford the moving fees and the house? Cross-state moving fees are mad, let alone when you’re on an island too.”

“Hey,” he shook his head, “I’m the adult, I’ll worry about that.”

In your first week on the island, you made friends with a girl called Sarah. She was from Figure 8, but had explained the dynamics between the pogues and kooks to you, and invited you to a party. It was her boyfriend, Topper’s, but she explained that plenty of pogues and tourons would crash anyway.

You arrived without her, a pair of cycling shorts and a crop top thrown over your bikini in a minimal-effort kind of way. Your one stab at an effort was the blue and purple glitter dabbed over your cheek bone to recreate a highlighter effect. When you got there, you could immediately tell you were underdressed. Everyone else were in shirts and dresses, and your glitter was definitely too ‘city’ to be cool here, so you stuck out, obviously the only pogue there. You spent twenty minutes trying to find Sarah, picking up some vodka on your way around. 

Eventually, after leaving a few texts, you sat down on the kitchen counter and nursed your vodka. You had no idea how long you sat there for, but at some point, Sarah’s brother stormed in. You recognised him from one of Sarah’s instagram posts, but you knew he’d never seen you in person. He looked high. And angry.

“Get out of the fucking kitchen!” he was yelling, and people began to filter out, but due to your obscured path, you couldn’t get out. He turned on you.

“Who the fuck are you?” he demanded, “‘Cause I don’t fucking know you!”

“Uh,” you mumbled, “I’m Y/N, I got invited by a friend.”

Where the fuck was Sarah?

“Well I don’t know any Y/Ns. And I don’t see any fucking friends!” He yelled, slurring and stumbling. “Does anybody know Y/N?” 

You looked around the gathering crowd, trying to spot Sarah, hoping she would appear and get you out of this.

“I said, does anybody fucking know Y/N? What the fuck are you doing in this house?” He cornered you, and you were beginning to panic. How the fuck do I get out of this situation?

You didn’t even realise what you were doing, but you felt yourself grab a knife from the counter and thrust it towards him. He stumbled back and you stepped forwards.

“Don’t fucking yell at me!” you shouted, watching him lean back against the wall in fear. You didn’t even register doing it but you felt the blade slice your arm.

You stepped back, addressing the shocked audience. “By the way, I’m Y/N,” You looked around, finding those blue eyes you’d seen a week ago. “And I just moved here.”

You dropped the knife on the counter and pushed your way out of the house, pulling your phone out when you got to the pavement. You checked your messages with Sarah.

You: just got here, where r u?

You: girl, where u at?

You: sarah, i dont know anyone, where r u?

You: im going home, shit turned sour. Msg me later.

Putting your phone away, you looked around. You hardly knew where you were, and you were desperate to get home.

“That was quite a show.” You heard a voice behind you. Shit.

You turned, and saw your blonde haired boy. “Well I knew someone was gonna get hurt either way, so I chose to deescalate the situation, you know?”

He nodded, reaching for your arm, looking at the cut. “You need to get that looked at.” 

“You offering?” you asked, pushing down a smile. 

“Sure.” he shrugged. You looked at him. He looked at the ground, an uncharacteristic shyness taking him over, “Can I stay at yours?”

You watched him stare at the ground, and however much you wanted to ask, you chose not to. “Sure, we just gotta be extra quiet.” 

He grinned, “‘Course.”

“Okay,” you sighed, “This is where I confess that I don’t actually know my way home.”

“We’ll work it out.” he grinned.

When you reached your house, learning that it was only a minute down the road from the blonde boy’s friend's house, you opened the door as quietly as possible, the pair of you pulling off your shoes and carrying them for extra quiet. You snuck up the stairs, trying to avoid the creaky stair boards, and pausing in terror every time there was a creak. By the time you’d made it to your room, the only other room upstairs being a bathroom, you both relaxed. You searched your moving boxes, finding your brother’s old sweat and tee for him, and going to the bathroom so that you could change into an oversized top and old gym shorts.

When you came back, a first aid kit in hand, the boy sat you down on the bed and began to address the cut.

You watched him work in silence. “What’s your name?” you whispered, and he glanced up at you, a smile on his lips.

“JJ.” he said simply, a small smirk adorning his lips as he finished dressing your arm.

You flopped down, so that you were lying on your back in the bed, and he looked at you with an odd sense of curiosity. “Lie down.” softly, you coaxed.

“Usually I get to know a girl before I get in her bed.” he joked, and the way you laughed made him want to freeze the moment in time. 

“Why do I feel like that’s not true?” you snarked.

He gasped, putting his hand to his chest in feigned hurt, “Oh Y/N, I’ve known you for an hour and you’re already breaking my heart!”

“What can I say?” you bantered, “I’m just pure femme fatale.”

He crawled onto the bed, resting his head on the pillows above you. “Oh,” he replied, “I’m sure.”

You flipped onto your stomach, looking at him, relaxed, head on the pillows, gazing down at you. “At home, there weren’t any guys like you.”

He laughed, unsure of himself, “Love, there aren’t any other guys like me.”

You hummed, fiddling with the corner of your throw blanket, looking at him through your lashes, you giggled. “You’re so full of shit.”

He grabbed a pillow and threw it straight at your head. You picked it up, your face scrunched up from the impact, and he laughed. You sat up, crossing your legs, and threw it back at his face, only he caught, laughing, saying something about you having a bad throw. He put the pillow back, and you crawled back up the bed, lying on your back, your arms touching as you both stared at the ceiling.

You glanced at him, taking how his warm tan contrasted the blue light of the moon that shone through the large window above your bed. You took in the way his muscles gave him definition, and how the top stretched slightly over his chest, and how his long blonde hair splayed over the pillow, your own, waist-length hair tickling his arm as you lay there. You took in the curve of his nose and the tiny, mischievous smirk that never seemed to leave his face. You took in his long eyelashes and the blue of his eyes and the pink of his cheeks.

At some point, you drifted off.

When you woke up, you were tucked into him, your legs tangled in his, hair spread over his arm. His eyes were still closed, and you didn’t move from your spot, keeping your eyes on his face.

“You know,” he murmured, “If you take a picture, it’d last longer.”

Blushing, you pulled away. “I don’t know what you’re on about.” you sat up, feeling his fingers trace the curve of your back as you moved out of his reach. You left the bed, looking back to see him sit up, rubbing sleep out of his eyes, and you watched him take in the way your top fell over your frame. You searched your moving boxes again, looking for an outfit for the day. You really needed to move everything into the wardrobe. Eventually, you pulled out a bikini and shorts. You looked back at him, and he grinned at you.

You looked at him curiously, “What are you doing today, JJ?”

He thought for a second, electing against going home, but rather to go to John B’s for a day of weed and joking around. “Introducing you to my friends.” he shrugged, “The one who lives a minute down the road.”

You nodded, “What are we, in a relationship?” you joked, “Introducing me to your friends? Next thing I know I’ll be round for dinner.”

He felt dirty when you said that, shrinking into himself, hoping that you would never experience the shit that came with meeting his dad. You must have realised you’d hit a nerve, because you backtracked, saying you’d been stupid and whatever you’d said to upset him wasn’t intentional. When he looked back up, he saw how the tears of worry were building, and he immediately changed his demeanor, rushing forwards to hug you, assured you that it was all good. 

You went to get changed, leaving him in your room. 

He looked around. The corner was full of boxes yet to be unpacked, the open ones mainly clothes. There was a desk under the window, with some makeup, a book and a notebook thrown on top. The wardrobe doors were open, revealing that the few clothes that were in your wardrobe were very messily so, most either hung up or on the floor. There was a shelf above the hangers, with a shoebox pushed carefully to the side. He pulled it out, conscious that he was snooping. He pulled the lid off, and saw a set of pictures.

The first - you at a funfair when you were a little, a boy two years older (must be your brother) and a woman, almost identical to you, hugging you close. The second, you were older, perhaps twelve - you were wearing a Christmas onesie that matched the woman’s, your brother and dad laughing as you and the woman - your mother - danced around. The third - you were in a hospital gown, and your mother was crying, holding you close. 

There were more, but he didn’t look. Under the photos, there was a tiny crocheted rabbit and a baby blanket with little elephants on it. He heard your bathroom door open, and rushed to put the lid on, putting the box back. You walked in, smiling at him as you checked your phone.

Dad missed calls (6)

Bro missed calls (3)

Sarah missed calls (11)

You sighed, checking Sarah’s messages.

 Sarah: Sorry!! I heard what happened, i should hv been there. Meet up 2day?

You: Rain check? I met a guy last night and he wants to introduce me to his mates.

Sarah: U go girl!! Enjoy urself, msg me if u need me <3

You flicked off Sarah’s messages, glancing back at JJ, who was looking at your make up.

Mom: Darling, call me when you can.

The last text made you want to throw up, and you tossed your phone on the bed, drawing JJ’s attention back to you. “You okay?” he asks, and you nod, grabbing your purse and picking your phone back up, and getting ready to go.

“Okay, I’ll go down first, I’ll signal if there’s no one there so you can come down.” you ran down the stairs, checking the kitchen and living room, then giving JJ the all-clear. You left the house, letting him walk you to his friend’s place.

He took your hand, guiding your through the front door and into the house. You wrinkled your nose at the mess, food, clothes and empty cans littering the room. “This is a mess.” you muttered, stepping over an empty packet of sweets.

“His mom left when he was three and his dad’s missing, the lack of adults means… well, you can see what it means.”

You nodded, only just noticing a boy asleep on the sofa next to you. JJ leans over, sighing. “That’s Pope, I’ll go get John B and see if Kiara’s here.” he let go of your hand, walking down the hall, leaving you with the sleeping boy. You watched the boy shuffle and then open his eyes, jumping at the sight of a stranger standing over him. 

“Who are you?” he asked, sitting up and staring at you. 

“JJ’s friend.” you said, and he raised an eyebrow. 

“You’re the girl who cut herself.” he said, recognition relaxing his features.

“My reputation precedes me.” you laugh, and he stands up. 

“Food?” he offers, walking to the kitchen.

“Y’all have food here? It looks like you live off Swedish Fish and beer.” 

He grins, “That’s the life.” he jokes, pulling a slice of moldy bread from its packet, and then throwing it straight in the bin. “That said, John B does need to get groceries more.”

“I do?” you heard a voice behind you. You turned, and were met with the sight of a tall brunette boy. He stares at you for a second, and rather than Pope’s blunt recollection, he grins, “You’re Y/N, right?” You nod, “You left quite the impression at Topper’s party.”

“What can I say?” you laughed.

JJ came back from the hallway, accompanied by a girl. “You must be Y/N!” she greets, smiling brightly, “I’m Kiara.” 

“Well…” JJ pipes up, “Let's take the HMS out to the marsh and introduce Y/N to the OBX properly!”

“I’m down.” Kiara shrugged, “I don’t have any shifts today.” 

“Sure,” agreed Pope.

“Leave in twenty?” John B offered.

[sevenkittensinatrenchcoat]

1998 Film Rumpleteazer Rewatch Part 4

This has been one of the more interesting part 4s, surprisingly. I believed the plot has thickened...

For The Moments of Happiness, the chaos twins are found where they usually are: together. Jerrie is still lying on the ground because Grizabella interrupted nap time and he’s still tired. 

Here’s where it gets interesting. After the verse of Memory that Jemima sings, we see close-ups of various cats repeating the line and contemplating it, trying to figure out what Old Deuteronomy’s trying to tell them. Most of the cats in close-up are either confused or just calmly repeating the line.

But, Rumpleteazer looks up, moved, but also as if she’s figured something out. She has some understanding of what’s being said. Since she’s barely seen anything of Grizabella, there’s no way she could know that Old Deuteronomy’s trying to explain why Grizabella’s the Jellicle Choice. He’s made the choice by this point, but the Jellicle Choice is more democratic than the cats seem to think that it is. They all have to understand and make the choice.

Why does Rumpleteazer, of all the cats, seem to be one of the ones who “gets it”? No other cat has this strong of an emotional reaction to what Old Deuteronomy and Jemima are saying, so this has to mean something to her, but I have no idea what it could be.

Jerrie also looks a bit moved, but he doesn’t look up like Teazer does, so he might just be responding to the emotions of the moment. This is a very emotional moment.

Anyway, the chaos twins stay quiet and off-screen during Gus the Theatre Cat, which was probably for the best. They come back for Skimbleshanks and Teazer is one of the more fun characters to watch.

It doesn’t take long for Teazer to get right up front behind Skimble, but she doesn’t try to make any trouble for him. Skimble, as rule-oriented as he is, should be a fun cat to mess with, but she doesn’t. She enthusiastically participates in his number without causing any chaos.

As for that enthusiastic participation. She imitates Skimble’s movements quite a bit. It’s not part of the group choreography, because Etcetera isn’t doing it. Teazer is just copying Skimble because she wants to. She’s not trying to attract his attention by mocking him, either. She’s just following along for the fun of it.

She copies Skimble’s “all clear” move. This is just another example.

I get the feeling that Teazer just really likes Skimble. I’ve theorized before that Skimbledad might actually be Teazer’s dad. She respects his authority more than the other elders.

Jerrie and Teazer much sense as Skimbledots kids. Skimble is a ginger, Jenny is a ginger, the twins have a lot of ginger on them. Jenny’s also said to have tiger stripes and the chaos twins, striped orange, black, and white, look more tiger-striped than any other characters. Also, back in Jenny’s number, Teazer mocked Munkustrap and was kind of a brat, but she stopped misbehaving when Jenny came out. Teazer likes driving authority figures up the wall as a chaos twin, but she has exceptions to the rule: Old Deuteronomy, Jennyanydots, and Skimbleshanks. Everyone respects Old Deuteronomy, so that’s no surprise, but the other two stand out a bit.

Still, Teazer is not happy when Skimble nearly crashes into her, but nobody’s happy when someone nearly crashes into them.

This is the Iconic Sneeze. Teazer most likely did it on purpose to line up with the lyrics of Skimble’s song. This was clearly not planned, because Victoria looks downright disturbed.

The moral of this portion is that Teazer is a Daddy’s Girl.

When Macavity shows up, Teazer is out in the open, so she doesn’t immediately huddle with the other cats like you can see Victoria and Etcetera doing. The run off to the side and stay together. Teazer just freezes in place.

But, almost right away, Skimble’s on the move. Instead of a Leg Tent, he forms a Leg Tunnel so that Teazer can get behind him. He stands between her and the danger and she’s down on the ground, hidden with the other younger cats.

Teazor cannot be seen in this picture. That is because after crawling through the Leg Tunnel, Mungojerrie had he get down on the ground with him standing over her. Like Skimble, he plans to stand and fight after ensuring the safety of more vulnerable members of the tribe. Skimble took responsibility for the two nearest kittens and Jerrie took responsibility for his sister, even though they’re the same age.

Then Macavity does an evil laugh and Jerrie ducks his head. Now he’s not so sure about fighting. Demeter hasn’t called “Macavity” yet, I don’t think, but Jerrie knows Macavity and probably recognized his voice. 

My headcanon for this whole situation is that Jerrie, as he was becoming a grown-up, wanted to turn his mischief into something profitable, so he started stealing stuff for Macavity. He did this behind Teazer’s back, because Macavity basically runs the feline mafia and he knew that it was dangerous and didn’t want his sister, who might be younger than him by five minutes, getting involved.

But, living a double life is hard. He stole for Macavity and he stole with Teazer and he had to keep them from knowing about each other. But, Macavity found out that Jerrie had been stealing without giving Macavity a cut of the profits, like he’s supposed to. He had to reveal that he was still stealing for fun with his sister. Macavity, realizing that the twins work better together, requested that Teazer work for him as well and Jerrie wouldn’t have it. It was too dangerous and Macavity had already done some things that Jerrie didn’t want any part in. He’s a literal cat burglar and vandal, but he’s not violent. Besides, he’s seen how Macavity treats women.

So, Jerrie left the feline mafia. But, leaving organized crime isn’t something you can just do, so he might believe that Macavity’s still mad at him for walking out. Macavity doesn’t actually care, since Jerrie wasn’t important and didn’t know anything about him that wasn’t already well-known, but Jerrie, now that Macavity’s here, gets a bit paranoid

Still, this is Teazer’s recap, not Jerrie’s, so going into all of this right now isn’t completely necessary. I’m explaining it because I’m trying to figure out how much Teazer actually knew. How much does she already know about Macavity?

We know that Teazer didn’t work for Macavity. Demeter mentions Mungojerrie and Bomba mentions Griddlebone, but they leave her out, when it would be an important detail. This is one of the few times one twin did crimes without the other.

During the Macavity number, Demeter and Bombalurina get in the faces of the girls they’re explaining this to from time to time and we see some reactions to their stories. When Bomba approaches Victoria and even Tantomile, an adult queen, the tremble in fear. Teazer, as seen here, doesn’t. Macavity doesn’t frighten her. She saw how frightened Jerrie was, she can see how frightened Demeter is, and the same fear in those around her, but she’s still calm.

The only time Teazer reacts to what’s being said is when Bomba sings about Macavity stealing milk. Stealing milk sounds like the sort of thing Jerrie and Teazer might do together. They’ve bragged about stealing food before. Perhaps she’s a bit upset that someone stole the milk and it wasn’t her and Jerrie. I don’t actually know.

But, though she turns her head away, Teazer doesn’t flinch or cringe. She’s still not scared. Whatever emotion she has about this, it’s not fear.

Demeter and Bomba are in close-up when it’s revealed that Jerrie worked for Macavity, so we don’t see Teazer’s reaction, but it appears like she doesn’t have one. That would suggest that this is something she already knew about. She spends the rest of the song just going through the motions of the choreography and back-up vocals.

My guess about Teazer and Macavity:

Teazer found out at some point that Jerrie was doing crimes without her when they usually do everything together. She felt a bit betrayed by this and Jerrie hand to explain Macavity to her. He thought serious crime would be fun, he got in over his head, but he knew better than to drag his twin down with him. So, Teazer knows who Macavity is and what he does and because Jerrie did a bunch of work for him and lived, she’s not that intimidated.

[probably-writing-x]

Early greetings, late nights.

Andér x Reader (Gender not specified)

Request from @isthatmaryanna : hi!! could you write a imagine with ander? where he’s not gay and fall in love with the reader at a party and the finds out she’s the new girl from las encinas and then their first kiss

Gif is not my own (But this gif is literally my favourite thing - I’ve rewatched it so much😂😭)

Requests are open❤️

“Okay but I’m not saying I’ll hate it,” You defend, “But I definitely won’t fit in.”

Omar laughs from beside you, “Definitely not, please don’t become one of them.”

“Do you think it will be that bad?” You ask as you hand him another one of the glasses to set up for the night at the club.

“It will be worse, (Y/n),” He grins, “You’ll forget all about me!”

“How could I ever?” You gasp, handing him the final glass before tossing the kitchen towel over your shoulder, “You’re already ditching me for this shift so you owe me one. When I need saving at school, you need to be there.”

He grins and steps through the opening of the bar, “Of course, I’ll be your knight in dodgy-shiny armor.”

- - - - - -

It’s a busy night at the club and you find yourself counting down the minutes until Omar would return for his late shift so you could escape for the night. It felt like you were serving carbon copies of every single person - the same drinks, the same smug looks as they assumed you’d never be able to pay for it.

“What can I get you?” You ask the same question as you clean off another of the taps and toss the towel over your shoulder.

When you look up, the eyes looking back arent like the rest. They’re piercing and lit up by a light smile as you look back. He looks about your age, dressed in an open shirt and white tee - a simple, understated look. But the curls on his head give him a boyish, friendly characteristic.

You swallow the lump in your throat, “What would you like to drink?”

He smirks gently, “I’ll take a scotch please... Omar?”

You glance down at your uniform and chuckle, “Not my uniform, but nice try!”

You go about grabbing the bottle and glass to make his drink, trying your best to not notice how his eyes followed you for the entire time. He seemed interesting. Like he had a personality beyond the money his parents bank account held.

“Shall I put it on the tab?” You offer, going to tap the screen to put his drink through.

“I’ll be back for another soon enough,” He raises the drink to you and turns away, only glancing back once as he takes a second take in your direction.

You try to stop yourself from getting too flustered as you serve the next customer, and the next.

- - - - - -

“Alright (Y/n)!” Omar calls as he comes behind the bar, “You’re done for the night, go home and feel bad for me.”

“So it’s (Y/n).”

You go to reply to Omar but stop instantly when you hear the words. The boy from earlier was stood at the bar, evidently expecting a second attempt at learning a little more about you. And Omar handing that attempt to him with ease.

“Maybe you won’t be going straight home,” Omar wiggles his prominent brows, “Give me my name tag and get out of here.”

You laugh and unclip it, untying your apron and handing that to him too, “I’ll see you tomorrow, Omar.”

The boy walks the length of the bar until he pushes through enough to meet you where you’d be exiting for the end of your shift.

“What do you say to having my second drink with me?” He suggests, leaning close to ask you the question.

You glance at him once more and smile a little, “I say I’ll have whatever you’re having, I’ll be back down in five.”

Hurriedly, you push through the staff door and grab your things to at least make yourself a little more presentable. You comb your hair through and try to perfect your appearance just slightly - though there was only so much it could improve by whilst you were still wearing this uniform.

When you get back downstairs, the boy is leaning against a nearby wall with two glasses of scotch in his hands. He pushes off and grins a little when he sees you.

“I thought you might have found a back exit and left me alone,” He comments, handing over one glass to you.

“I tried, it was locked,” You joke, having to yell over the music blaring through the room.

He gestures over for the two of you to go to one of the emptier corners of the club and settles a hand on your back with such ease as he leads to over.

“You seemed so set on knowing my name, you never told me yours,” You point out, taking a sip of the drink and wincing at the taste.

“Ander Muñoz,” He responds, dipping his head to speak to you.

Muñoz. That name sounded oddly familiar.

“You enjoy working here?”

“Serving a bunch of snooty rich people that just complain about us not having the right champagne or not making their drinks fast enough? It’s a dream!”

He laughs and it makes his eyes crinkle and dimples appear on his cheeks, “Is it really that bad?”

“They pay me so I can’t complain,” You shrug, “And I have Omar.”

“So am I one of them?” He raises his brows, “The snooty rich people?”

You laugh a little and shake your head, “You tell me Ander Muñoz.”

Before he can say anything more, somebody knocks into the back of him and causes him to stumble into you, tipping his drink onto both of you a little.

“Do you want to get out of here?” He suggests, setting down the empty glass onto a table.

“Yeah, definitely,” You nod, swigging back the rest of the drink with a hiss and setting your glass next to his.

- - - - - -

It’s another three quarters of an hour later when you find yourself still strolling around the empty streets with him. You’d talked about anything and nothing and were yet to get to a point where the conversation ceased.

“Okay, where in this town do you go to then?” He asks you, having grown jokingly tired of you mocking his ‘rich boy’ lifestyle.

You laugh a little, “You want to see how the other half live?”

“Please, do tell, (Y/n),” He smirks, looking at you expectantly.

You reach out a hand for him to lace with his own and tug him out of the path you’d been following, “Down this way.”

Your hands stay locked the whole way as you eventually reach the docks and you lead him up the steps to the top of the bridge.

“Isn’t this just where people do drug deals?” He laughs, stumbling behind to catch up with you and hold your hand a little firmer.

“Well, yeah,” You admit, “But at night, you get the best view of the stars.”

You let go of his hand and push yourself up onto the edge, shifting your weight until you sit on the edge with your legs dangling over.

“Woah, woah, careful!” He holds out his hands like he’d have any hope of catching you.

“Don’t worry,” You laugh, turning and laying down on the hard surface so you could look up to the sky above.

“Isn’t there a much safer way of seeing the fucking stars?” He mutters to himself as he mirrors your actions opposite you.

“Nobody ever did anything good by being safe,” You roll your eyes, glancing up to watch as he cautiously lowers himself to lay against the rock.

You two stay in silence for a while as you watch the stars stationary in their movement, until one comes shooting across as if by fate.

“I think that’s a good sign,” He comments quietly, voice a little raspy from the lack of conversation.

“So, Mr Muñoz, was this up to scratch for showing you what I do for fun around here?” You raise yourself to sit on the stone and swing your legs back over.

He hops down and dusts off his jeans, “Id say you need to find yourself some friends and get yourself to some parties.”

You laugh and can’t help your heart from bubbling as his hand finds yours again.

“I should probably get home, I have a big day tomorrow,” You comment, walking slowly back down the steps from the bridge with him.

“What’s happening tomorrow?”

“Let’s not talk about that,” You shake your head with a half-laugh.

“Then I should get you home as soon as possible,” With that, he dips down in front of you and hoists you onto his back until he has a firm grip on your thighs, “Your carriage has arrived.”

He somehow manages to carry you the whole way home, complaining whenever you made him laugh as you found yourself in hysterics - blaming it solely on the fatigue and that scotch in your empty stomach.

“Well, I’ve had a very good night, Ander,” You smile as he sets you back down, “You’ve slightly restored my faith in the other half of society.”

“Slightly?” He cocks a brow.

“There’s always room for improvement,” You smirk, leaning in to kiss his cheek, “Goodnight Ander.”

He stops you there until you’re close enough that your nose knocks against his. And he musters every piece of courage he had left in him to kiss you for the first time - soft and very much aware that you could easily pull away. When you don’t, his courage dials way back up and he cups your face in his hands with ease, like they were always meant to be there. It’s longing and you regret not starting this earlier in the evening.

“Goodnight, Ander,” You repeat as you pull away, slightly more breathless now.

“Can I get your number at least?” He asks as you go to walk towards your apartment block.

“Something tells me I’ll see you very soon anyway,” You confirm, heading inside before any other part of you could convince you otherwise.

- - - - - -

You’re shown around school by one of the admin staff who explains to you what to expect from your new student role at Las Encinas. You’d already noticed a few people that you’d served at the bar multiple times and tried to avoid too many peoples prying eyes on the new kid as you reach your new class.

“Class, we have a new student joining us today,” The teacher stands up as you go to walk in, “I’m sure you’ll all be very welcoming to (Y/n).”

There’s only one student that you’re focused on as the name is spoken. Sat in the back on the far side of the class is none other than Ander. That’s where you’d known the name from - his Mum was the fucking principal! He glances in your direction and quickly turns away, unable to stop the smile from crawling onto his face as he shifts a little in his chair.

“There’s a seat beside Ander if that’s okay,” The teacher mentions, gesturing over to the boy you were meant to not know yet.

You nod and take the adjacent seat to him, setting your book onto the table.

“So, last night was fun,” He smirks, handing you a pen, “Maybe now would be a good time for me to get that number.”

You roll your eyes, “When I said soon, I didn’t think I’d be seeing you the next morning.”

Nevertheless, you scribble down your number onto some paper and hand it back to him.

“Definitely seems like we’ll be seeing more of each other now, (y/n).”

And it suddenly becomes impossible to complain about his slightly cocky demeanour.

“I guess we will, Mr Muñoz.”