#this is literally a marty moment

[martypilled]

[cheriboms]

quick staff is asleep, post back to the future 3 (FULL MOVIE)(REAL)(NOT CLICKBAIT) to tumblr !!! 🤫

[fragilelovelythings]

“No buddy, without me there is no you” ARGGGHH it kills me how Rust even under all his nihilism and peculiarities, still seems more aware of their relationship, as if he’s been waiting for years to Marty to catch up on his own, to face, accept and give in to his real feelings about each other.

The best part is how Marty can’t say anything after that and just let him goes, as if he knew too but wasn’t AGAIN ready to face his feelings.

It’s amazing how time being a flat circle works with them as well, taking to know the other so well and develop their bond trough years, even those they spent apart to of course, circle back to each other.

Marty is Rust’s heart and Marty is rusted from the inside without him.

[aliferous-ly]

rewatched the "running up that hill" animatic 4 times and thinking about DL again

[mysticicefire]

sup bitches time for mystic rants in the tags

[cainsau]

Can you do (Platonic) Homelander X reader. Like in S4E4, you were the only scientist that actually treated homelander as a actual human child and not a experiment, but then were fire for interfering with an experiment. And years later when he grows up and invite everyone back to the lab including the reader

Consequence || The Boys Imagine

(Platonic) Homelander x Scientist!GN!Reader

Summary: You are one of the scientists who worked on Homelander many years ago. One day he brings you back to the lab, for old times' sake, he says.

Warning: Canon typical violence and gore (not explicit)

Author's Note: Im so sorry but i dont fully understand your request! I hope this is close enough to what you're asking for :]

Masterlist

You recall the elevator ride from many years ago. It didn't use to be this long. Or maybe that's because you just witnessed Homelander shooting lasers at the security guards upstairs, all that to let you and him into the old lab. He probably can hear your heart beating abnormally fast.

"Do you think everyone will be there?" He asks.

You take a long breath, "Maybe not. Some of them probably don't work for the company anymore."

There is a moment of silence before he asks again, "Do you miss them?"

You think about it for a minute. His question feels like a test somehow. But, you've always been honest with him, and you're not going to stop now. "Not really, since they fired me."

"Right."

Homelander is a ticking time bomb. Since the beginning, you knew he was going to grow up with so much negativity from all that experimentation, and eventually explode. The least you could do was be kind to him, considering he was a literal child. Even now, you still feel a little bit of sympathy for him. But, it probably doesn't matter since he might have just brought you there to end your life along with the other scientists'. After all, there's no denying that you did work in that lab.

You sigh quietly. You didn't even get to say goodbye to your family when he picked you up at your current workplace.

The elevator dings, and the door opens, revealing the very same lab that you remember working in. The old faces try so hard to look delighted, but you can tell that they're as horrified as you.

"John?" Marty exclaimed in surprise.

"Homelander." The supe corrects him with an unending smile. "Just, Homelander." He then glances at you, putting an arm on your shoulder. "But [Y/N] is here too, y'know? You should greet them too."

You and Marty exchange a look. It's been years since the last time you talked to him. Though he's glad to see you after all these years, it is far outweighed by the horror of Homelander's presence.

Marty gives you a nod, "[Y/N]."

You return the nod, "Good to see you again, Marty."

"Well, well, well," Homelander steps forward with the box of cake while looking around, "I see that this place hasn't changed much."

He starts to talk and talk about his days in the lab. To the others, it might be an enlightening experience as he exposes their faults and... avenge it. Even if they didn't believe in god, they start praying inside their heads. Frank is the first to go, then Marty second. Thankfully, Barbara shows up before a third victim comes. But, oh, how wrong you are.

You stand there, breathing heavily, as Homelander closes the door to the Red Room. There's blood everywhere on his suit and hair, then as he turns around, his face is also covered in blood. But, the most terrifying part? His smile.

You hide your trembling hands behind your back. As much as you dislike how the other scientists treated him, you'd never think they'd end up like this.

"You alright?" You attempt to be nice to him, even if it's the last thing you do.

He laughs and approaches you slowly, "There should be more people like you in this world."

"You're one of a kind." He continues. "Most people are inconsistent. They're very prone to change, depending on where they are in the wheel of life- up or down- but, you? You're the same all around, then and now. That's great!"

He pats you on the back, leaving red stains on it, and guides you out. Apparently, he respects you enough to let you live, and not lock you in that room of corpses with Barbara.

As you arrive home safe and intact (physically, at least), you sigh in relief, feeling indebted to your alma mater for forcing you to take a class in ethics.

[gilverrwrites]

I don't fall, I fly.

⇐⇐⇐ Chapter [2/?] ⇒⇒⇒

Circus playboy [AU], Dick Grayson/Reader, 6.7K words AN: SMUT, WHOLE LOTTA SMUT! This took longer than I'd hoped, but I hope ya'll enjoy it regardless ♥︎ Anon Joey, I promise I forgot I named a character Joey in this story I swear this was not meant to be any kind of representation of you lmao Warnings: Swearing | teasing | pre-mature ejaculation | lying and manipulation | denial 

Joey is a sturdy-looking guy with a skinhead and a stubbly beard. When you tell him you’re there ‘for Dick’ he licks his lips and flits his eyes between you and your bestie with a suggestive wiggle to his brows.

“You?” He grunts, pointing from behind the plexiglass. “Or them?”

“Um, me?” You’re not sure exactly what he’s asking but you presume you are the right answer.

He tears your tickets off the reel, but when you reach into the opening to take them from him, he grasps your hand in his meaty one and scrawls ‘DG’ on the back of it in black sharpie before letting you go with the orange slips.

“Shows at 6.30. You wanna head straight up that way, turn right at the main entrance, Marty will let you through the second entry. There's plenty of food carts on the way if you’re hungry but you gotta pay for 'em.” He gestures each direction with two fingers before sending you off with a wink. “Have a good night, peeps.”

“D-G? Are you like, officially a groupie now?” Your friend questions you jokingly over mouthfuls of shared candyfloss moments later. Since inviting them along you’d filled them in on the events of Tuesday afternoon.

“I guess.” You shrug, looking at the lights, breathing in the smell of popcorn, listening to the thrum of the crowd. You hadn’t been to a circus in years, so this is like a nostalgia trip. You’re enjoying yourself to much to really care about being branded with a marker. It was weird, no doubt, but a small price to pay for what would hopefully be a good show. “Hope it’s worth it.”

You’re too lost in conversation to realise it straight away but the further you walk, the smaller the crowd grows until eventually the only people around seem to be cast and crew.

“Maybe we missed it?” Your friend suggests when you finally notice.

You’re about to turn tail when you hear a familiar voice call out over the distant buzz of spectators. “Hey, it’s you!”

“Oh, hi!” Warmth immediately graces your cheeks as you watch Dick approach with long strides and open arms. 

“You made it, awesome.” He grins, his hands are already on you, fingers snaking down your back to settle snuggly on your hip. He looks starkly different, but just as captivating as when you’d first met. His tight blue leotard is partly covered by an open hoodie that still shows off his shapely pecks. His hair is slicked back, and he literally sparkles under the string lights that line the big top. You’re so focused on the glitter that adorns his skin that you almost forget where you are until he prompts; “Whose your friend?”

“Oh-“ You follow his gaze, eyes strolling over his broad shoulders, along his other arm which is conveniently hanging over your bestie's shoulder. You’re almost envious as they take over introducing themselves. 

Your time with Dick before the show is understandably short, but sweet. You hadn’t taken a wrong turn, as made apparent when he walks the two of you to the performer's entrance, bypassing Marty and telling you how to find your seats.

“When the lights go up, and Haly leaves the ring, come back this way and I’ll show you around backstage.” Dick tells you with a wink, dipping out before you can even consider declining his offer.

“He’s gonna show you his mini me.” Your friend laughs, wiggling their finger as you climb the steps to your seats. “Lil Dick, ya know.”

“Shut up.” You reply with a grin you can’t shake. Unable to deny that they’re probably right, and if he does, you’re most certainly not going to stop him.

“Whatever.” They continue. “Thanks for the ticket, but I’m not hanging around while you get dicked down, you good getting home alone?”

The lights come down as they ask their question, and your eyes excitedly lock onto the ring as you whisper back. “Sure, but don’t you wanna see the backstage stuff?”

“No, I don’t want to third wheel the pretence of your hookup.” They answer deadpan and though you’re a little disappointed for them, you’re mostly relieved that should anything happen between you a Dick, you won’t have to worry about ditching your bestie.

Had you actually paid to watch the show, you’d say it was worth every penny. The Ringmaster, Haly really knows how to build a show, the clowns aren’t too scary, and the whole thing is jam-packed with ‘spectacular acts’ as promised by the flyers. The firebreather in particular was memorising. The true showstopper, however, was The Flying Grayson. He sails and twists through the air, shining under the spotlights as he performs death-defying after death-defying stunt. It’s easy to see why he’s the headliner. Towards the end of his performance, Dick waves at the crowd, showboating and encouraging them to cheer louder, and finally blowing a kiss before swinging out on the trapeze.

Your friend fake swoons when they notice how you’ve leaned forward in awe to watch, and the teasing persists right up until you’re saying your goodbyes after the show.

You feel like such a rebel as you slink through the crowd, sneaking away to the performer's entrance once more, looking over your shoulders periodically until your eyes finally lock onto Dick. He doesn’t spot you straight away, eyes pensively focused on something off in the distance while he kicks his feet, and brushes the gel from his hair with his fingers, but eventually, he turns to see you and it’s like flicking on a light switch, the way his face shifts into that sunny smile. His arm easily drapes over your shoulder once more as you approach, and you just as easily melt into his side, allowing him to drag you off to God knows where.

Dick likes this bit, even the cager girls unknowingly become a little more malleable, a little star-struck after watching his routine, and you’re no exception. It’s too easy to fall under his spell, and you’re all too aware of it. No matter what wonders he shows you, or who he introduces to you, your eyes rarely leave his form, and he basks in the attention.

“This is cute.” He mentions, pulling at your skirt and stepping close enough that you can smell his sweat beneath his rich, sweet cologne.

“Thanks.” You feel flushed immediately under his roaming gaze. He’s clearly using it as a guise to get closer to you, but you have some spunk in you yet. “I like this.”

You snap the taut strap of his leotard, he fakes a yelp and a pout.

“Ouch.” His nose brushes yours, stray hairs tickling your forehead as he leans down. “You might need to kiss that better.”

You run your finger under the strap once more, pulling it aside and baring his toned muscles. You playfully hum in consideration before pulling the sleeve back into place and looking him in the eye. “Maybe later. If its bruised.”

“Later?” He quirks a brow as you step back, content to make him work a little more for it.

“Later.” You confirm. “After the tour.”

He stares you down with his deep blue eyes, and you think you might break until he finally sighs, yielding to your demands with a complacent grin.

It’s not until he’s holding your hand as he guides you through a myriad of caravans that you finally think to ask; “By the way, what is this?”

You wriggle your hand out of his to show him the Sharpie mark you’re hoping you can scrub out in the shower before your shift tomorrow morning.

“Oh, that.” He takes your hand once more, gently rubbing his thumb over the back of it, looking very nonchalant. “If I wasn’t there, it’s just to show Marty that you’re on my guest list.”

You’re not convinced. “Can’t you just have Joey write it on the tickets of something?”

“Nah.” He shrugs, but there’s a hint of mirth in his tone that has you doubting him. “Were not supposed to save seats or let people in though the performer's entrance. When you leave, you take the evidence with you.”

Suspicious. Very suspicious.

What he neglected to mention is that, of course, the entertainers’ are allowed guests and reserved seating, it’s only Dick who's on a tight lead because he does it too often.

Before you can voice your doubts, however, Dick stops in his tracks, tapping his free hand on the trailer beside him and turning his whole body to you with a coy look. “Last stop, home sweet home.”

Home sweet home is strangely whimsical for an average sized mobile home. It has lights around the roof and painting, old and new decaled onto the metal exterior. One piece in particular grabs your attention. 

“The Flying Graysons? Theres more of you?” You ask earnestly and Dick steps beside you to follow your eyeline, dropping your hand in favour of stretching his arm across your shoulder and leading you to lean into his chest.

“There was.” He answers quietly, eyes remaining focused on the image even when you angle your head to watch him. “My parents. Kind of a family business, you know?”

“They must be proud of you. You’re amazing.”

He smiles as he looks down at you, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

“I hope so.” He sounds glum. Clearly, you’re not privy to something and it isn’t your place to pry so you decide not to push the subject when he moves it along. “Do you want to come inside?” 

“Yes!” You’d known the invitation was coming, but you don’t think to mask your enthusiasm at all, happily following him inside, taking your shoes and socks off at the door as requested, and allowing him to hang up your jacket. “I can’t stay though, I have a shift early in the morning.”

“That’s fine.” Dick hates when they stay over anyway. “We rehearse pretty early too.”

Inside, you notice an array of protein powers along his kitchen counter, and a stack of old records piled up beside an even older-looking couch. That’s the entire extent of any interior features you have time to examine before his lips are on yours.

You gasp when you first feel his soft lips on yours. You’d expected forwardness, but damn he moves fast; almost enrapturing you with his minty-sweet lips and feather-light touches until you feel your back hit what is presumably the door to his bedroom.

“Ahhh.” You can’t help stuttering as you pull away, captivated briefly by the sensually blissed-out look on his face as he chases your lips, settling for sucking and nipping at your throat when you turn your face away from him. “Fast!”

He stops at your objection, his whole body freezing but for his fingertips which have already crept beneath the waist of your skirt to teasingly massage your lower back. “Do you want stop?” He sounds confused.

“No.” You answer decisively, shivering when you feel his breath deliberately brushing against the sweet spot in the crook of your neck, fanning the fire that’s currently simmering between your thighs. You were into it, his speed had just caught you off guard and you need a moment to collect yourself. “Just, slow down a bit. Show me around first?”

“You know this is a one-night thing, right?” He scolds himself internally for snapping, it’s not an unreasonable request. There's just something about the sweet smell of your perfume, the taste of your lips, and that damn skirt. He’s been dying to get you here all night, and you’re so close. But now you’re pouting and narrowing your eyes and while he’d love to fuck the admittedly adorable petulance out of you, he knows his chances are rapidly depleting.

“Sorry, sorry.” He lets go of you, throwing his hands up in surrender and turning on his best, most charmingly sheepish smile. “I just haven’t stopped thinking about you since we met the other day. I’m getting too excited.”

His shoulders sag. Scratching the back of his head as he steps further into his living space. He knows he’s winning you over because your expression softens.

“That’s the kitchen, and this is the living room.” He gestures to the two sides of the open space.

“That room back there was my bedroom when I was a kid, but now it’s just storage. Old suits, photos, stuff I don’t want to get rid of.” He points to the door at the other end of the trailer before turning back to the door you’re currently still resting against. “Bed and bath are through there.”

You chew your lips as you turn to look at it, fingers tracing the hard plastic until you find the handle and gently open it. Dick leads the way, stepping around you and into the small space. He fiddles with the switches on the wall until the room lights up and it is very much what you’d imagined. Mostly it’s an extension of the outside, the light source is yet another sting of lights despite the bulb that hangs from the ceiling. Posters, photos, and souvenirs from all over the world line the walls.

“I’m sorry there isn’t more to see.” He offers as you follow him in, unconsciously wrapping your arms around his waist and melting into him as you approach. There isn’t much space for the both of you to stand, almost all of it is taken up by the dresser and the bed which is lined with blue sheets, and literal notches in the wooden headboard.

“I think there’s plenty to see.” You comment, nodding at his abused bedframe and he laughs but doesn’t deny the implication.

“It’s getting late.” He points out, and you know what he’s really getting at. There’s no more to show you, it’s now or never.

Feeling bold you slide two fingers under his sleeve once more, slowly brushing it from his shoulder to expose his unblemished skin. He watches every move half-lidded and unshakingly as you press your lips to the spot you’d snapped earlier until his fingers splay across the back of your head, tilting you to face him once you’re done kissing his non-existent wound so he can draw you back to his mouth.

As if he’d taken your prior hesitations to heart, he kisses you slowly this time. Cupping you with warm hands as he tenderly works his plump lips against your own in a series of deep, ardent kisses that you hadn’t expected from him. It’s you who takes things further, quickly getting lost in his embrace. You part your lips, only half fighting for dominance before you concede and allow his tongue to explore unimpeached until he starts to paw at your hips, pulling you close to him so he can grind his compressed arousal against you.

Teasingly slow, you dust your fingers across his chest, dragging your fingertips downward along his spandex suit until he firmly takes your wrist in his hand. You pull back from the kiss to take in his heated expression. You have no idea what you’re doing to him with your blown-out eyes and open mouth. Impatiently, he directs you half a step back, until your knees give against his mattress, and you drop down. Exactly where he wants you, he releases your hand, and you continue your slow veneration of his body until you settle your hand on his bulge. Your touch sends a shockwave through his body that has him bucking his hips in an instant.

He definitely made a good choice picking you, he thinks as he takes a moment to admire your form. You’re so fucking pretty, looking up at him from the edge of his bed, biting your spit-glossed lips while he grinds against your eager hand. He’s pressing hard enough that you have to make an effort to keep your hand in place, partly from desperation, partly because the pressure is needed to be felt through his dance belt.

Not content with the current state of things, Dick is quick to start undressing. His clothes are barely around his ankles before you wrap your hand around his shaft. You’re not sure what you’d been expecting but you’re pleasantly surprised by his uncut cock and intentional hairlessness. There's already a drop of precum on his tip and your mouth practically waters as you lean forward to taste him only to feel long fingers curling into your hair.

“No no no, not yet.” Dick pleads beneath his breath, holding you still by your roots and watching you with fire in his eyes. He bites the corner of his lip, tilting his head as he thrusts languidly into your open hand. “Use your hands for a bit longer.”

This is his favourite part. The fucking is always good, and he’s hungry to find the position that will make you call his name over and over again, begging for an encore, but there’s something so erotic about this bit that drives him crazy. Doesn’t matter how many girls he brings back here, he’ll never get enough of seeing them work his cock in their marked hands. Right now, you’re already claimed by his initials, by the trail of swollen little bitemarks he’s traced down your neck, but by the time he’s done with you, you’ll be completely ruined. Inside and out, totally smothered by him.

You’re not exactly sure what’s going on in his head but damn he’s hot you think as you watch him from below. He hadn’t kept the body glitter to his just his arms. Under the warm light of his bedroom, his whole body shimmers, extenuating his toned, lean muscles. Stray pieces of dark hair fall to frame his fevered expression. His deep blue eyes are squinted intensely and he’s biting down on his tongue as he watches you work your hand along his length.

“Fuck, you’re beautiful.” You can’t help but speak your mind, and he looks down at you puzzled for a moment, clearly not expecting your compliment, but eventually smiling genuinely at you in response, a hint of pink dusting his cheeks.

No matter how much praise Dick hears, he’ll never get enough. God, and you mean it too, he can tell by your wide eyes, by that little smile you can't bite back, by how you’re watching him religiously. Fuck. He’s gonna need 5 more of you.

Another, sizable bead of precum spills from his head, it drips from his length, trickling down your arm and before either of you can process it, you dip down, not once breaking eye contact as you soak up every drop, slowly lick it up from your hand, working your way up his cock.

Neither of you see it coming, but your little show of debauched worship has Dick's whole body twitching. He tries so hard to hold it back, but as soon as your lips part over his crown to drink up any remnants of pre, he instantly starts shooting the real thing into your open mouth. Cursing through his climax, suddenly grabbing your head and holding you in place as ropes of hot, sticky cum hit your tongue.

“Shit, shit shitshitshit.” He mutters, averting his gaze when your brows raise at him in surprise. “Shit, never happened before. I’m sorry.”

His knees buckle at the intensity of his climax, causing him to lurch forward. The last of his cum dribbling directly into the back of your throat before he stops altogether. Drops of the fluid spill back out of your mouth when he wrenches back from you, the speed at which causing your body to sting with rejection as he hurries from the room, locking himself in what must be the bathroom.

“Diik- wouate.” You try to call after him, mouth still dripping with his cum. Before following you rapidly search the room for a box of tissues or a waste bin to spit into, when you find nothing, you bite the bullet and swallow, cringing at the taste and the metallicness it leaves on your tastebuds before you head over and knock on the door, once, then once again but he doesn’t answer. You can hear him moving around, hear his hushed voice presumably talking to himself. “Dick, are you okay?”

When he still doesn’t reply you continue, choosing your words carefully. “It- it’s okay. It’s normal. Could happen to anyone really.”

It’s not okay. It could happen to anyone, but not him, he’s not anyone.

“It kinda makes me feel good about myself actually.” You’re not sure if this is going to help or make things worse. “You know? Hand job so good I made you pop before… yeah.”

Your awkward laugh falls on deaf ears. Good for you, he thinks bitterly. Thankful when he hears your footsteps retract, he listens intently as you slowly make your way through his trailer. Relieved when you stop in his cramped kitchen space. He’s not ready to face you just yet, but he’s certainly not done with you either.

He’s not sure how long he spends in front of the mirror, trying to ease his embarrassment, to pep talk his cock into getting hard again, but seemingly it’s long enough that you get tired of waiting. God, this is a disaster. He has to turn this around he decides as you knock once more and announce that you’re leaving. Now, or live knowing that you’re the one who got away. If he can’t fuck you tonight, then he has to ensure you’ll come back before the show moves to its next location so he can prove himself.

“Don’t go yet.” He says as he finally opens the door, displeased to see your sock and jacket have made a return. If anybody asked, the shrillness of his voice was intentional, part of his plea to make you stay a bit longer. “We can still do other things.”

You’re sceptical, it’s evident from the frown on your face and the way your eyes flick between him and the door. Dick does not like that at all.

“Come on, girly.” He urges, turning the charm back up as he leans in closer, gathering the fabric of your top in his fist and using it to tug you the last few inches until you’re chest to chest. Already your skin is starting to tingle again, excitement curling in your guts as he brushes his cheek against yours, pressing fresh kisses to your skin as he works his way to your lips.

Deep blue eyes bore into yours, begging you for permission and you easily crack under his gaze, stretching up on your toes to initiate a kiss so heated it’s like you’d never stopped. How he turns it on and off so easily should be studied, you swear. He doesn’t tease this time, only pulling away from your lips long enough to pull your top and coat off. He unclips your bra with a speed you only possess on your best days before lifting you by your ass and hauling you the 4 feet to his bed.

Once your back hits the mattress he leans back to look at you, his hands clutching onto your thighs, causing your skirt to ride up and giving him a spectacular view of your damp panties. Instinctively your hand darts down to cover up, but he latches onto your wrist, guiding it to his mouth where he plants chaste kisses to your knuckles as he looks you up and down, over and over.

“God, you’re beautiful.” He repeats your earlier reverence, taking a few more seconds to admire your body before letting you go and dipping down to trail more kisses up your stomach, his calloused fingers cupping your breasts, squeezing as he draws closer. “We should make you the main event.”

“What a fucking line.” You quip, but the look of adoration on his face never wavers and you start to grow bashful under it. Averting your gaze until you feel his tongue on your chest.

“I mean it.” His speech is slurred as he draws circles on your bosom with his spit, you’re on edge as he grows closer and closer to your nipple but never hits the target. If that wasn’t enough to make you lightheaded, Dick pushes the weight of his thigh between your legs, eyes still trained on every little movement you make as his knee shimmies against your heat. “You’re gonna be the prettiest notch on my bedpost.”  

He's so smooth, even the glib reminder that this is just casual sex makes you feel flushed. 

“W… ” Your response to him is hampered when he finally fixes his mouth over one of your nipples, his hard fingers pinching down on the other until you arch your back, pressing yourself deeper into him.  The inadvertent pressure on your clothed cunt making you moan aloud.

“You gonna say something, pretty girl?” He gently holds your nip between his teeth as he talks, blowing his hot breath against the sensitive bud.

“Fu- fuck you’re good at this.” You breathe, eyes rolling back as he starts to bounce his legs, eyes narrowing smugly at your praise. “W-was gonna ask where you got that sharp tongue fr-from?”

Dick smiles around your bud once more before drawing it in for once last, torturing suck and releasing it when a wet pop.

“Oh, you like it, do you?” He drags the tongue in question between the crevice of your breasts before working it leisurely up your throat and into your open mouth where you weakly knead it with your own, too focused on the way Dick has worked his knee up onto your clothed groin, pulling your panties taut between your folds in the process. It hurts, but in a way that has you desperate for more. You almost don’t notice when he retracts his mouth to murmur in your ear. “You’re already shuddering and we’re not even at the best part yet.”

“Will we get there soon?” You roll your hips, meeting the tweaking of his leg and he grins at your enthusiasm. You’d thought your skin ablaze until Dick rakes his nails down your torso, igniting more fervour in his wake until he finds the waistband of your skirt and panties.

“Oh yes.” As he speaks, he sits back on his knees, taking your clothes with him. He can’t help the way his jaw relaxes at the sight of your exposed pussy, wishing he was hard enough to plunge right into your dripping hole. But watching you, as beautifully depraved as you are, come apart even more from his hands and mouth is a more than satisfactory consolidation prize. And if he sticks the landing, he’s sure he can win you back here for a second performance. “Just stay still and lovely like you are, an’ let me make you feel real good.”

He runs his pointer finger between your folds, brushing your clit gently before delving straight for your entrance. He slips right in, down to the knuckle with no friction at all and your cover your face, mortified by the wet squelching noise your pussy makes as he twists and turns his finger inside you, tightening the coil in your centre. When he withdraws you peek through your hands, watching the wicked grin on his face as he examines the string of wetness that follows, snapping a few inches above your sex. 

“You’re so messy, baby.” He purrs, dipping back in to spread your wetness around, rubbing two fingers against your clit until you start to moan aloud. “I love it.”

Gradually he teases the two fingers into your entrance, the added digit causing more stretch than the last time. You can’t help clenching and whining, especially when he uses his other hand to caress your clit once more. “Oh fuck, Dick. I think I’m gonna…”

“Already? That was easy. I haven’t even tasted you yet.” Despite his teasing, your quiet neediness is making him fucking feral on the inside. Hurrying your orgasm along, he drives a third finger into you, biting his lip, grunting and goading as he watches you come undone. “Go on then. Cum on my fingers baby, make an even bigger mess.”

As if on command you do exactly that. Dick can barely decide where to look; your preciously scrunched-up face, your chest which is jutted out and shaking due to your arched back and heavy breathing, or your greedy little pussy as its walls clasp around his digits, sucking him in as you spill onto his palm.

As soon as he’s certain he’s ridden you through your climax, he pulls his fingers from you and your whole body jolts at the resistance. He checks that you’re watching him through your foggy, post-nut daze as he proceeds to lick and suck his hand clean.

You moan at the way his loud, pornographic enjoyment of your juices revives your libido. It’s really not fair that you should be ready to go again so soon, while he’s unable. You can only imagine how good it would feel to have his cock buried inside you right now, but you don’t want to press the sore subject. Instead, you move your trembling body, enjoying the perplexed but amused look on Dicks face as you climb closer to him.

“Want to kiss you.” You inform him, startled by your own breathlessness.

“You’re cute.” Dick patronises, finishing licking up his middle finger before reaching out and clasping his moist hand around your neck. “Come kiss me then.”

He squeezes just tight enough to send a chill down your spine as he pulls you closer, locking you into a short but heated kiss, eagerly sharing the taste of your bittersweet ejaculation. When you pull back to breathe, he pushes on your chest and you fall back against his sheets once more, your eyes zeroing in on the vintage stickers that lace his ceiling as you try to calm your sudden headrush.

At the same time, Dick drops off the bed, kneeling on the floor. Just when you’re coming to, he grips your hips, pulling you to the mattress's edge until you’re close enough to feel his breath in your sensitive core. 

“Not done with you yet.” He laughs, the extra air on your folds making your toes curl. “Still gotta give this sharp tongue a firsthand taste.”

Before you can protest, not that you really would if you could, Dick practically dives, mouth first into your folds. The moment his hot tongue grazes your already tender clit you jerk, bucking your lower body away from the salacious intrusion but Dick swiftly follows, not letting up for a second as his arms loop over your stomach, fingers digging into your hips and forcing you back down. 

“Don’t fight it, you’re gonna feel so good.” He murmurs, tongue still working between your twitching folds, mouth twisted into a wickedly obscene version of a smile before he latches his lips around your bud. Moaning loudly and closing his eyes as he savours the taste of your slit. He’d called you messy, but within a few minutes of working you with his tongue, his chin and neck are drenched with saliva. He can’t help it, you taste so deliciously bittersweet, he can’t get enough, and the cherries on top are the beautiful, sinful little sounds you can’t choke back.  

Overwhelmed and shaking, you reach down and hook your fingers in his thick dark hair, pulling it tight in an attempt to ground yourself but it does nothing to dampen the waves of pleasure that pulsate through your body. Very quickly the pull of your hips increases tenfold, your face squeezing tight, and Dick knows you’re about to cum again.

The only thing sweeter than your needy little pussy is the tortured wail you release as he shimmies down your folds, leaving your clit unstimulated in favour of stuffing his tongue into your tight hole just before you topple over the edge. At the intrusion, your walls convulse around him, forcefully throbbing around him despite the betrayed, wet-eyed look you’re giving him. Oh, you are so coming back, and he is going enjoy fucking that sullen look off your face while you milk his cock for all its worth.

“What’s that look for?” Dick asks, taking his tongue out of your folds and nuzzling into your inner thigh, intent to prologue his teasing just a little longer. You gasp when you see the collection of slick on his face, shocked and aroused by the muddle of fluids. Between that and your hopeless need for him to finish what he’d started, you can barely comprehend him speaking to you. “Do you want something, baby?”

“Please…” You start, barely able to string your words together. Feeling more and more frustrated as Dick shakes his head at you, grazing your folds with his cheek as he does so.

“Please what? Come on, you can do better than that.” His encouragement only vexes you more. 

“Please let me cum, Dick! I’ll do anything.”

“Anything?” The look that overwhelms his handsome features should put fear into your heart, but all it really does is make you ache for his touch even more. “Will you come back here on Saturday night and let me use this pretty pussy all night long?”

“Yes!” You don’t even hesitate, anything to feel his mouth on you again. Your lack of inhibitions works though. Dick immediately compensates you by twisting his tongue into your slit again, lapping and sucking at your sweet spot, fervid and hungry. Intense blue eyes locked closely on your every move as he swiftly falls into a rhythm that has you right on the edge in no time, the denial only having heightened your sensitivity. 

His grip on you remains steadfast, supporting your wild movements as your legs buckle and wrap tight around his neck, squeezing him as you wither and reel against him. He swallows every drop of your release, gulping it down, his groans of appreciation loud and explicit enough to rival your own. Goddamn. You can’t recall a time anybody ate you out with as much shameless passion and he keeps going until your body falls heavy and slack.

“How’s that for taming your pussy?” He remarks, ego pouring from every syllable but you’re too out of it to care. Body completely jellified, head empty, unable to think of a witty comeback. You lay still but for the rapid rise and fall of your chest as Dick crawl up your body, goading you once more. “Too effective?”

Again, you’re too preoccupied to care as he leans in to brush his lips along your nose. You’re vaguely aware of his arm moving beside the bed, but you’ve no thought or motivation to care as you soak in his attention, chasing him until your lips find his, joining into an equally smiley kiss that is laced in your juices.

“Here,” he says as he ends the kiss, pulling a handtowel from somewhere? And dropping it on your chest. Presumably, that’s what he’d been fiddling for. “You remember how to clean yourself, right?”

“Oh, shut up, Dick-head.” At last, you find your voice, Dick having egged you a bit too much. Playful you throw the towel back at him as he makes to stand, but he easily catches it and drops it between your legs.

“Okay, okay.” To emphasise his surrender, Dick holds his palms into the air as he backs away, you’re not expecting him to leave the room entirely however until he’s gone.

Unsure how to respond, you sit up and grab the towel, cleaning off. He isn’t gone for long though, returning a moment later with a glass of water, grabbing your discarded clothes from the floor and tossing them toward you as he approached.

“It’s getting cold out, probably.” He comments, placing the cup down beside you and beginning to rummage around in his drawers. He finds and pulls on a pair of joggers as you too begin to redress. “You wanna borrow a thicker jacket? Swap them back on Saturday?”

“Oh, about that.” His head snaps to you, brows creased. Bar the concentration on his face as he’d sailed through the air during his performance earlier, this is the closest you’ve seen him to looking serious and even though he’d clearly been trying to get rid of you only seconds ago, you feel bad for what you’re about say. “I can’t come on Saturday.”

His annoyance is evident, face falling even more as he stares at you. 

“I can do tomorrow though?” You offer, but that’s no good to him. Fridays are the big night, Haly likes him to schmooze the VIPs, and he can manage that while he’s thinking about bouncing you on his cock, but it if you’re actually there the temptation to sneak off and make good on his fantasies would be too great. “Saturday night I have a thing.”

“A ‘thing’? Like a date?” Oft. Dick can hear how he sounds, totally pissed, maybe even a little jealous. He’s not. He can sympathise with the fact that you got caught up in the height of the moment, only God knows how many promises he’d made in the throes of lovemaking that he’d never intended on keeping but he was so sure he’d hooked you around his finger. He needed you to be. Need you to come back so he can finish the job.

“No, nothing like that. It’s a family thing.” Your attempt to consol might have seemed more genuine were your skirt not hiked up around your stomach. You’d redressed completely but for your underwear which you were now fruitlessly searching for.

“What time does it start?” Dick sits on the edge of the bed, reaching out across the small space to grab your hand and pull you closer.

“5.30” You answer, allowing him to pull you to him. You straddle his lap, instinctively draping your arms over his shoulders. When you’re face to face, he cracks a smile, you’re starting to recognise this specific grin, with its sparkly teeth and crinkled eye. It’s the smile he’d given you when you’d first crossed paths, and later when he’d invited you to his show. This is the smile he gives you when he wants something.

“Come to the matinee then.” He instructs, angling his knees up until you fall further into him, allowing him access to ghost soft little kisses to your already well-marked jawline, breath tickling your skin when he speaks. “Show finishes at 3.30.”

“And what time will you be finished with me?” Your voice notches up a pitch as you try to speak through your retrained giggling. Dick hums into the crook of your neck, making a show out of thinking up an answer. You’re not expecting it when he suddenly grips your rear, and it makes you yelp. He uses the globe of your ass to support your weight as he stands, carrying you through his trailer until you’re at his door.

It's decided then, it would seem. You’re leaving now and coming back on Saturday.

When he despots you onto the floor, you bend over to slip back into your shoes, swaying your butt around as Dick pulls down your skirt and presses up behind you, impishly grinding on you even as you stand up straight once more.

“You didn’t answer my question.” You remind him when he nestling his nose into the crook of your neck, sniffing your sweet, sweaty smell before you stop moving and prompt him once more. “Dick?” 

“Hm?” He hums dreamily before letting out a dramatic sigh and spinning you around to face him as he finally answers. “If you’re late to your ‘thing’ because you can’t resist my charms that’s on you, pussycat.” 

“Ick!” You protest to the awful nickname, both of you laughing as Dick opens his door and slowly but surely leads you out of it.

Dick rattles off a list of directions, advising you on how to get back to the main gate. He offers to walk with you, but you decline.

“Goodnight, kitten.” He jests in farewell.

“Goodnight, dick.” You reply.

He was right, it is cold. A gust of wind blows against you, reaching between your legs to your still damp centre and reminding you that you’d never found your panties, but Dick has already closed and locked the door behind you. Returning to his bedroom, he retrieves your missing underwear from where he’d kicked them under the bed and props it over the corner of his headboard for later.

If you're reading this, I wan't you to know that you are beautiful and I love you!

[thewulf]

Wild Child || Jake "Hangman" Seresin

Summary: The four times Jake catches you in precarious situation plus the one time you catch him in one.

A/N: A request from a friend.: I’m sooooo sorry if your name is Heidi (You’ll see why). Really unedited but I wanted to get you guys something out. Please enjoy!

Pairing: Jake “Hangman” Seresin x Y/N

Word Count: 6,200+

The First Incident

A wild child is how your family always described you. You liked ‘free spirit’ better. Wild child made you sound unhinged. You didn’t like to consider yourself unhinged per say but you couldn’t stand to be tied down to anything. One minute you were a white-water rafting instructor at the Grand Canyon, the next you’re teaching people how to paraglide in the Alps. You craved adventure. Loved it more than anything in the world.

The thought of a corporate job holding you down made you gag, literally. You knew this lifestyle wasn’t maintainable per say but you just couldn’t seem to give a damn. You let the wind blow you to your next opportunity. That’s how you ended up in San Diego as a water sports instructor. You’d been working as a ski school coach in Colorado when you got word help was needed on the West Coast. You approached the guy who needed help and the rest was history. You were on a plane to San Diego the next day with a job running the little shack on the beach.

You loved it. It might’ve been your favorite job to date. You got to hang out in the sun all day and rent Jet Ski’s, paddle boards and kayak’s to people. Your favorite days were the ones you got to do jet ski tours on. You’d spend endless hours on the open ocean having the time of your life. Your least favorite days were the ones when you had to do maintenance on all the equipment. Usually, Doug or Jim your coworkers would take on changing the oil out on the jet ski’s but naturally they were both off when one needed to be done.

It didn’t take long before you found yourself in a less than ideal situation. You’d forgotten to put the oil cap back on before cranking the engine on. Well, the entire contents of oil you just dumped in the chamber was now all over your face and clothing, the engine spitting it back at you.

“Fuck!” You cried jumping back away from the machine. Ripping off the safety glasses you used your hands and clothing to try and get the oil off your face. Without much success you paused trying to assess the situation.

You realized you had two options. Jump in the freezing ass Ocean or run into Penny’s place. Deciding on the latter option you pulled your shirt off leaving you in your bathing suit. Luckily, most of the oil was on your shirt avoiding the rest of your body.

It was only five so the bar had just opened, “Penny!” You called loudly for the woman as you walked into the Hard Deck.

“Y/N!” She called back before turning to you. When she did her face displayed every emotion. Her smiley face turned to shock as she took in your oily black appearance. Then it turned to confusion as she took in your entire appearance. You must’ve looked like a horror story walking into her bar. No shoes, no shirt and certainly a problem.

“The damn jet ski blew up on me. Marty’s cheap ass won’t upgrade them. It’s certainly nothing that I did!” Crossing your hands over your chest with a pout on your face making your way over to a bar stool you gave her an overly exasperated look.

The last and final emotion that crossed her face was with hilarity. She couldn’t stop laughing once she realized it was more than likely a self-inflicted casualty, “Did it now?”

Nodding your head, you gratefully accepted the rag from her. Beginning to wipe away some more of the oil from your face you heard some commotion from the front door.

“Penny!” A male voice you hadn’t recognized rang through the bar just as yours had seconds prior.

Her brows stitched together in confusion as she had just seen that same scene play out with you not a moment before, “Jake!” She replied, just the same as she had with you. Spinning around in the bar stool you were thankful the rag was covering your mouth because you were sure it would have dropped right then and there. The most devilishly handsome military man just walked through Penny’s doors, and you had your eyes set right on him.

He too, had his eyes set right on you but you had a sneaking suspicion it was from the engine oil that caked your face and upper body, “You have a little something here.” Jake pointed to his forehead giving you a cheeky smirk.

“Oh, thanks.” You rolled your eyes, “So helpful.” Dramatically you took the damp rag wiping your forehead free of motor oil, “Did I get it?” You quipped back.

He nodded smiling, enjoying how much of an attitude you already had with him. It made the game way more fun when they didn’t get off on the right foot, “You got it.” He nodded his head down, “Jake Seresin. Don’t think we’ve met.” The stupid cheeky grin never left his face. Only growing wider when he saw your irritated expression grow.

Quickly, you ran your hand along the other side of your face making sure to coat your hand in oil before accepting the handshake. His grin broke out into a full smile seeing your play. A low chuckle reverberated from his body as your hand coated his in oil, “Sorry, I thought you said I got it?” Giving him a wink, you snatched your hand back from his grip. Easy to do since they were both coated in the slippery liquid.

He tipped his head in your direction, “Fair play ma’am.”

“That’s all I do, Mr. Seresin.” Taking the rag, you fully wiped off your face. You knew your hair was coated but opted to throw it up in a bun until you’d be able to shower it off. Penny gave you a new clean one while she handed Jake a napkin after seeing the exchange between the two of you.

“Did you need something Jake?” Penny interrupted the two young adults who were seemingly very into each other. Penny could tell. She always could. It didn’t help that she hardly knew either of you. You’d just started at the shack two weeks ago, only occasionally crossing paths. You worked early and she worked late.

“I did.” He nodded looking back at you, “But for some odd reason, I can’t remember what that was.” He threw you a wink taking a seat next to you.

You wanted to roll your eyes, but something drew you into him. Like you wanted to know just a little bit more, “Cheesy.”

“She doesn’t like cheesy, noted.” Jake leaned back looking you over. He’d noticed you were just in your swimsuit, not really mad about it.

“Well, I didn’t say that did I?”

He took the beer Penny had poured from him, “Noted.”

The Second Incident

“No, no, no!” You yelled out while you running around the beach trying to collect the umbrellas that got pulled up by the rather strong gust of wind. You’d gotten three before the fourth got caught in another gust and took off.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” You sighed before jogging along the water hoping to catch it before it went out into the ocean. You loved this job, but you didn’t love it that much to go swimming for it.

To your delight the blonde boy from the bar caught it before you did. Coming out of nowhere he grabbed the end of it before quickly closing it. After catching up to him you took the awkwardly large umbrella from his hands, “My hero! Thank you. Might’ve saved my job.”

He smiled back at you almost immediately, enthralled you were chatting with him so easily. It wasn’t that often he came across a woman that could hold her own with him. Natasha being one of the rare few. He had a feeling you were just like her with your quick remarks and witty comebacks, “You’re welcome…You never told me your name.” He frowned looking at you expectedly.

“I didn’t?”

He shook his head, “No ma’am.”

“Hmm.” You began to walk away knowing he’d follow right after you. You were oddly good at this game. Truth be told you hadn’t a clue where your confidence came from. Even with men as attractive as Jake you knew how to wind them up and get them to do your bidding. A unique skill not only reserved for the men. You mom always said you’d make for a great politician because you were a master at manipulating people to do what you needed them to do. She always made it sound cooler than it was. But you sure did use that skill to your advantage in these situations.

“Aren’t you going to tell me?” He caught up to you with ease. Your smaller frame and the gigantic umbrella slowed you down.

“Now, what’s the fun in that?” You gave him a wide grin already seeming to know how to reel him right into you.

He paused for a moment before making his way back to you, “I’ll go ask Penny.”

“Go for it. That’s cheating but it’s fine.” You knew military men had a weird thing with cheating so again, you used it against him.

“That’s not cheating!” He took the umbrella from you, tired of seeing you struggle with it while he knew he could carry it so easily.

“Thanks,” You smiled up at him before heading back to the shack. A nasty storm appeared to be rolling in that wasn’t on the radar that morning. You wouldn’t have set out the umbrellas had you known it would be coming in so quickly, “But it so is cheating!” You couldn’t drop it either.

“In what world?”

You shrugged, “Mine.”

“Fine.” He nodded his head placing the umbrella down in the shack, “What’s it going to take for me to get your name?”

Returning the smile while tapping your finger on your chin you answered him, “I don’t know yet Jake.”

Slumping over slightly he looked a tad defeated, “Well this is impossible.”

“Giving up already Mr. Seresin?” You challenged him. Another thing you knew military men loved, a good challenge.

Shaking his head vigorously he turned the frowned back into that charming smile you already loved, “No, didn’t say that did I?”

Shaking your head, you could only answer, “Fair play military boy.”

“Navy.” He corrected you. Not that you were wrong per say but you weren’t specific enough.

“Navy boy.” You nodded at him, as a touché, “What do you do for the Navy anyway?” You wanted the conversation to continue. Jake intrigued you. Not many people did. You’d come across all sorts of fascinating and downright boring people as you traversed the world. But few captured your attention longer than a few hours.

“If I answer, will you give me your name?”

Shrugging you answered, “Maybe.” You respected the little game he was playing. It was fun. Fun intrigued you. Fun kept you engaged with him.

“I’m a pilot.”

“Ohh, you get to fly fast planes?” He’d really got you now. Planes had always fascinated you. You loved adventure more than anything in the world, but planes always seemed to be off limits, especially fast ones.

“Something like that. We call them jets.”

You nodded along enthralled by the admission, “That’s really cool Jake.” It was a high compliment from you and Jake knew it. He knew he intrigued you as much as you intrigued him. You wouldn’t have tolerated his presence if you felt otherwise. Something he picked up on quickly, you spoke your mind and you weren’t afraid who heard. A rare quality he rarely saw in people.

“It is. I love it.” His smile softened for the first time around you. You noticed how the cheeky grin downturned ever so slightly into a more genuine smile. One you knew that likely didn’t come around often.

“Y/N. That’s my name.”

“Y/N.” He repeated back, “That’s beautiful.”

“You should tell that to my mother. My dad wanted to name me Heidi. She saved me from that childhood torture. Bless that woman.” Smiling you leaned back against the shack.

Jake smiled a bit wider taking in the small bits of information you were willing to share about yourself. He had a feeling you were a closed book masking being an open one. He understood, he was the same way. An extroverted persona on the outside and a hidden softer side that only came out around people that wee trusted. There was nothing wrong with this per say it was just exhausting. Having to put a wall up 24/7 wasn’t something you particularly enjoyed.

“Maybe one day I’ll get the chance to Y/N.”

You giggled. A sound you hadn’t heard in so long. The last time you felt this stupidly giddy from a boy’s comment was ages ago, back in college when you were tied down, “Maybe Mr. Seresin. Just maybe.”

The Third Incident

The day was brutal. The sun beamed down at you all morning and afternoon. You could hardly sit in the shade because almost all of your equipment was rented out. It wasn’t a bad thing. You were raking in tips. But it made for a long and exhausting day. That paired with no air conditioning made you feel like you were starting to go a little crazy.

So, when you turned over the key in your vehicle and it didn’t start you all but lost it. You let yourself yell once and shed a tear out of frustration before heading into Penny’s place. Lucky for you she opened up a bit earlier on the weekends to attract more customers from the beach who wanted to day drink.

You spotted the woman quickly before making a beeline straight towards her, “Penny, please tell me your mechanic of a boyfriend is around.”

She frowned, “No, he’s out of town. What’s up?”

“Damn.” You sighed taking a seat at the nearly empty bar. You hadn’t seen Jake and his Navy buddies sitting in the back as you made your way straight to the bar. But he saw you. He always noticed you. The simple chats started turning deeper as both of you tip toed around what you both wanted but neither wanted to admit, “This one’s going to cost me. Car won’t start. Hopefully it’s just the starter or the battery.”

Both of you were terribly afraid of commitment for one reason or another. But sometimes that spark that you find can’t be put out. The flame couldn’t be diminished. It needed to be explored. The spark was slowly growing into a flame and neither of you wanted to extinguish it but neither brave enough to let it grow. To let the flame, turn into a fire. For that meant commitment. And commitment was terrifying.

It made sense for Jake. He was always on the move. Always going from one base to the next. Early in his career he would try but it got too hard. It was hard to fall for someone and then have to move because he was reassigned to a new base. It was way easier being an asshole who was there for the hookup than commit to someone. But it was different now. He’d completed all his goals. Done what he wanted to accomplish as a pilot. If he ever wanted to be an admiral, he needed to clean up his act and excel as an instructor at Top Gun. Show Naval leadership he was meant to be a leader too.

It made sense for you too. You were in an amazing relationship throughout college. You’d met a boy early on in your freshman year and stayed with him through your senior year. He’d even proposed. But then he got sick. The sickness took him away from you. So, you ran. Your wild child was let out. You couldn’t be tied down again. You couldn’t go through that again.

“Oh, shoot. I’m sorry Y/N. How about a beer on the house?” She smiled as sweetly as she could. She knew how shitty the feeling was. Unreliable vehicles were the worst. Lucky for you it wasn’t a far walk home worst come to worst. The only downfall of the lifestyle was never having enough money. A tow was certainly out of budget. It needed to be fixed in the lot. You’d figure it out. You always did.

Sighing and lifting your head from the bar top you gave her a thumbs up, “Thanks Penny.”

Her eyes widened spotting the blonde pilot making his way over to you. Penny was many things, but she wasn’t dumb. She certainly wasn’t blind. She didn’t know Jake well, but she’d heard about him. Heard all the rumors of the fuck boy that he supposedly was. She’d yet to see it. Over the last few weeks, he’d had nothing but eyes for you.

Penny had also gotten to know you a whole hell of a lot better as you spent the last bit of your day here all too often now. There were usually hardly any customers and Penny lent the best conversation you’ve come across in San Diego. So, you started coming to the Hard Deck every day after work. She realized quickly that you were damn near oblivious to Jake’s feelings. Always flirting back but never agreeing with Penny about his intentions.

“Why the long face, sweetheart?” Jake had begun using those sweet terms of endearment a few days ago. Finally finding the courage to make his feelings a little more obviously known. But of course, you hadn’t a clue. It didn’t mean anything for you. Your way of deflecting, naturally.

“Jake, hey.” You straightened up a bit, “Car won’t start.”

He frowned, “That’s no good. Let me take a look.”

Your eyes peaked up in curiosity, “You know cars?”

“I know jets. How different can cars really be?”

Laughing you nodded, “I’m pretty sure they’re really different actually.”

“You have no faith in me darling.”

“Oh, have at it. Just don’t break it any further.” You smiled taking a sip of the beer. He stood for the stool waiting for you.

Giving him a quizzical look, he continued, “After you.”

“You were being serious?” You set the glass down. It wasn’t very often that people went out their way to help you. That was another problem with the nomadic lifestyle you’d become accustom too.

“As a heart attack. I’ve got some tools in my truck. I can figure it out.”

Hopping down from the stool you gave Penny a wave. She gave you a knowing head shake waving you off. Leading Jake to your car you popped the hood to give him a look.

“Can you turn it over?” He asked. Giving him a nod, you tried to start the engine only to be met with silence, “Just a dead battery. Let me go get my truck for a jump start.”

Another few moments and a jump start later you were met with a started vehicle. Jake parked the truck next to yours. Getting out you were too afraid to turn it off before driving to a car shop to swap out the battery.

“This time you’re my Knight in Shining Armour.” You gleamed up at him as he made his way to the driver’s side of your vehicle.

“I’m honored, really.”

“Thanks, fly boy. I gotta go get a new battery now.”

“Fly boy?” He smirked.

“Mhmm, heard you and your friends talking the other day. The girl said it and it stuck. I like it. Fly boy.”

He opened your car door, “Then you can call me fly boy. If you like it.”

“Didn’t know I needed your permission.” Again, you challenged him. You always seemed to challenge him. Making him second guess that smoothness that always seemed to work. Not on you though. You got the better of him all too often now.

The Fourth Incident

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” You grumbled taking a seat in front of the knotted mess before you. You’d let the boys take the parasail up only for them to come back to you with a sheepish grin on their faces and a very tangled parasail before them.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N.” Doug, usually your favorite co-worker replied seeing your very annoyed expression.

“It’s fine… just go help the customers. This is going to take me a while.” You let out a frustrated groan. At least it was a mindless task.

“Yeah, okay.” He nodded and quickly left, not wanting to get another earful from you.

“They certainly don’t make this job easy.” You sighed leaning back against the shack. You didn’t have a particular talent for untangling things, but you knew the boys certainly didn’t have the patience to even try. So here you were stuck with a loopy mess of ropes and cables.

“You always talk to yourself?” That now-familiar voice of the blonde pilot spoke out startling you from your focus.

Jumping slightly, you slapped his ankle, “You always stalk me?”

“I do not.” He scoffed sliding down the wall to sit down right next to you. He was close but neither of you made the effort to move farther apart.  Not even a little. He let his thigh rest against your bare one. It was a hot one, so you were without shorts, just bathing suit bottoms. He was testing your boundaries and you were more than happy to welcome him right on in.

“I didn’t say I was complaining about it.” You quipped back.

You earned a hearty laugh from him. A sound you’d learned to cherish over the blossoming friendship you wished would turn something more, “You never cease to surprise me Y/N.”

“Hopefully that’s a good thing.” You grinned up at him momentarily forgetting about the mess laid before you.

“It’s a great thing.” He answered quickly not wanting to place doubt into your head, “You’re incredible. You know that right?”

Heart stuttering you snapped your head back up to him. What was he saying? What was he trying to imply? Was he trying to get you all sorts of flustered because it was certainly working. You’d always been awkward when receiving compliments so when Jake threw that one at you it made you want to disappear right then and there.

“If you think so.” You nodded your head gingerly making sure to focus your attention on the rope and not the gazing eyes of the man you’ve been crushing on a little too hard.

He took your hand in his, “I know so. You’re beyond fascinating. Every time I get to know a little bit more about you, I’m infinitely more intrigued by you. Rooster called me out on it, said I never seemed to shut up about you.” He admitted. He wasn’t all too sure why he was telling you this. It was easy with you. He wanted to tell you things. Things he’d never dream of sharing with a girl before. But with you it felt so natural. So effortless.

It wasn’t often somebody could make you blush, but Jake was doing an exquisite job of it. A fiery blaze crested up your neck settling on your cheeks. Thankful it was warm out you could just blame it on the sun, “Rooster?” You questioned. You’d yet to meet any of his friends but that didn’t seem like a terribly common name.

“Bradley. The one with the stash. It’s a call sign. We all have one.” He smiled knowing just how odd it sounded when he said it out loud.

“What’s yours?” You asked wanting the conversation to go on. He too intrigued you. You seemed to get lost in conversation whenever you ran into him. It too felt natural with him. Like two puzzle pieces just waiting to be linked together.

“Hangman.”

You smiled wondering where in the hell that could’ve come from, “That’s an interesting call sign.”

“You think?” His eyes stitched together in curiosity.

“For sure. I wonder what mine would be? I’m not cool enough though. I’d never make it.” You admitted to him looking away afraid you’ve overstepped.

He studied you up and down as if trying to come up with one on the spot. Not a second later he responded with one, almost as if he’d thought it through before, “I’d call you Bird.”

“Bird?” You grinned curious as to why.

“You’re a free spirit. Like a bird. Floating through the air making it look effortless even though you’re working harder than ever. You have a certain ease to you that makes you so free.” He paused collecting his thoughts, “And you’d make it just fine. You’re more levelheaded than half the guys I train on a regular basis.”

“Oh, that’s frightening Jake. I’m not even that levelheaded!” You laughed feeling a bit concerned over the state of who was employed by the Navy.

“I know.” He winked at you letting his leg full press into yours. The closeness let goosebumps ripple down your legs sending a shiver over your body. It frightened you how easily he affected you both mentally and clearly physically, “It’s terrifying who they let fly those things huh?” He laughed taking a cable in hand beginning to help you.

“Suppose you have to be some level of crazy, eh?” You giggled picking up another cord after untangling the first.

“You bet sweetheart.” He turned his body more towards you, pressing his thigh further into yours. You were sure you were about to explode from the contact. Hopefully it didn’t look like it. You had to play this cool. You’ve been doing so damn good over the last few weeks. But he was making it hard, very hard, “So.” He continued before pausing again giving you a look as he picked up another tangled cable.

“So.” You responded by looking back at him. He was giving you a look you had yet to see from him just yet. Almost nervous?

“Where are you off to next? Doesn’t seem like you stay in one place for too long.”

You shrugged, “I’ll be honest. I don’t have a clue. I like it here though. Usually something just falls into my lap taking me onto the next thing…” You smiled reminiscing through some memories before continuing, “But like I said. I like it here. The weather is amazing, and the people are even better.”

You really hadn’t thought about moving on. Not yet at least. It felt like you’d finally gotten into a rhythm here. Normally that’d terrify you. But it felt so damn right here. Like something was begging you to stay. That something might have been sitting there in front of you. Even if you’ve only been here a few months and known him less than that it still felt right. If there was one thing you always did was trust your gut and it was telling you to stay. Screaming at you to stay. It was a foreign feeling for you, but you welcomed it. The nomadic lifestyle was utterly exhausting and somewhat lonely. You were ready for change as you approached your thirtieth year.

He cracked another smile at your last statement, “Yeah? Even better than the Swiss?”

“Mhmm.” You nodded looking up to him again. You could’ve melted right then in there if humans could. The look he was giving you could make a strong man weak, “Way better than the Swiss. Much cuter too.” You chimed in making sure he knew you were talking about him.

“High praise.” He smirked leaning his whole body just a bit closer. You’d usually protest as it was so fucking hot out but this was a dream for you. Jake was practically on top of you this time. It must have looked funny from a distance. Two sweaty young people lost in each other’s eyes almost on top of each other on the beach.

“It’s only the truth.” Your face was so close to his. God you’d give anything to just kiss him. But you wouldn’t dream of making that move. That’s far too bold even for you. And what if he didn’t want it? You’d never be able to live down that kind of embarrassment.

“Y/N?” He asked.

“Yeah?”

“I’m planning on staying for a little while too. I’m tired of jumping base to base. I just want to stay somewhere for a while you know?”

“It’s tiring.” You agreed with him, “I get it.”

“Would you stay here?”

You nodded your head vigorously, “I would. For the right reasons.”

Licking his lips while looking at yours he mimicked your head nod, “Good to know.”

The Fifth Incident

Standing waist deep in the ocean you wanted to be annoyed but the man standing in front of you was making that very difficult to do so. His cute little grin and snickers only made you laugh along with him, “Which one’s the gas again?” Jake asked leaning back on the jet ski you were trying to get him to take out.

“Right hand is the throttle, for the fourth time Mr. Seresin.” Playfully rolling your eyes you walked around the jet ski to do the final checks ensuring it was up to snuff before he took it out on the ocean.

Grinning from ear to ear he knew he had you. He had you wrapped around his pinky finger. Not that he was any different. You had him whipped and you weren’t even dating yet. Instead, the two of you were dancing around deeper emotions every time you saw one another. And the two of you sure did see each other as often as possible. After he helped you untangle the mess that was the parasail the two of you made it a point to see each other every day. He’d come find you while you were wrapping up work or you’d meet him at the Hard Deck.

You’d even gone so far as to meet a few of his Navy friends, at his request. Being far too nervous and not having a clue what the relationship was with the blonde pilot you were nervous to meet them. He wouldn’t take no for an answer though, bringing them to you instead.

As unshy as you were with your opinions it was becoming harder and harder to have the ‘what are we?’ conversation with him. You were having far too much fun in this stage that you didn’t want to ruin it. You started to have legitimate feelings for the flighty boy. It terrified you a bit. The last time you allowed yourself to feel things it ended horribly.

But even you had to admit you were exhausted of running. Running from feeling things. Afraid to commit to somebody. Afraid to tie yourself down.

“Thank you, Miss Y/L/N.,” Wiggling his eyebrows he leaned over towards you as you finished up the pre-op checklist.

“You’re welcome, Hangman.” This time you were smirking, loving to throw him off his game whenever you could. Initially refusing to use the call sign you decided to only throw it out there when you felt like you needed to one up him.

Eyes raised in curiosity he broke out into a grin seeing your expression. He’d never felt like this before. Felt so effortlessly comfortable around somebody. Like he knew you’d never judge him for a thing. You’d be there for him no questions asked. The two of you just clicking like nothing he’d ever experienced in his lifetime. He had to admit it terrified him a bit. But he was also excited. To try something new. To dive into a relationship with you headfirst. So long as that’s what you wanted. That’s why he was playing it so cool. He knew how much of a flight risk you were if he moved to fast. He couldn’t bear the thought of losing you before he even had the chance to try it out. So, he decided to let you get comfortable and hopefully make a move. If you were too afraid to do so he’d do it eventually. He had nothing but time with you though. So, he wasn’t going to rush it. Terrified to mess it up before it started.

“So how long do I get out there darling?” He was testing your boundaries now. Wanting to see how you’d react.

Your heart rapidly picked up pace hearing that term of endearment escape his lips knowing that you could really get used to hearing it, “Thirty minutes. Then I have paying customers booked. So don’t be late.” You eyed him making sure he got your message loud and clear. He’d been begging you to go on one, but you’ve quite literally been booked out. Busy season was mad. But you had a customer cancel on you last minute which gave Jake the opportunity.

“Got it. See you soon pretty.” He shot you a wink before speeding off. Making sure to splash you with the throttle. Flipping him off you rung your hair out as you walked out of the ocean.

You’d only noticed he’d been gone for a little too long when the next clients walked up. You searched the ocean spotting Jake drifting a little bit further out than he should’ve been. Hopping on the reserved Jet Ski for staff you took off in his direction.

“What the hell Jake? I said thirty minutes.” You frowned at him pulling up beside his weirdly quiet one.

“I would’ve darling but well, it died on me.”

“Hop on.” You sighed annoyed the stupid thing gave out on you. It always reminded you of how cheap the dude who ran this place was.

You hooked the tow line up to it, getting good at it now, before towing everything in, “Looks like you caught me at a bad time.” You felt him chuckle as he pressed his chest into your back. Taking full advantage of being the passenger. You were thankful you couldn’t see his shirtless chest, that’d surely send you over the edge now.

“At least it’s you this time.” You laughed along with him. You felt as his arms tightened around your waist. Pulling him all that much closer to you.

Much to your chagrin you reached the beach before you knew it. Jake waited around as you got the family off on their adventure. Approaching him with a grin on your face you sat next to him at the picnic table by the shack, “Have fun at least?” You asked.

“Absolutely. Any time I get to spend with you is a good time.”

Pushing his side lightly you hid your gaze away from him, “Cheesy.”

“Only for you.” He snaked his arm around your waist. Not forcing you to look up to him but letting you know he had you.

Another goofy grin graced your features. He always knew what to say, “You’re sweet to me Jake.”

He nodded, “Because I like you. A lot. You know that right?” He admitted straight out. He let you go at your own pace, but he wanted you to know now. He knew. He adored you. He’d never felt this type of way with anybody before you. He thought he had but he realized he hadn’t. This was something special.

“You do?” Confusion then joy broke out from your face

“I do.” His smile turned up even further seeing the recognition cross your face. Had you really not known? Or were you in your own head like he had been so many times before?

“Like more than friends like?” You asked to confirm.

“Way more than friends.”

“Oh, wow.” You turned away heart racing. Sure, your face was as bright as a cherry tomato it was now or never. He’d laid it all out on the line for you. You could do it.

“Hopefully that’s a good wow.” Smirking he leaned a little closer to you.

It felt like your heart stopped for a moment, “It’s a very good wow.”

“Yeah? Then you’ll let me take you on a date?” Jake didn’t often look nervous, but he looked terrified now. He hadn’t expected this. Not even in the slightest. But he’d roll with it.

“You’d want to?” You returned your eyes back to his.

“Oh darling, I’d love to.” He reassured you taking your hand in his.

“Then I say yes.”

“Tomorrow?”

“You that excited?” You teased him.

“Sweetheart, I’m more than excited. Whatever that is.” Tossing you a wink he stood from his seat, “I’ll pick you up at six. Can’t wait to see you pretty.”

[cormorant-red]

I played 999 recently at @xivu-arath's recommendation, and I had so much fun that (inspired by that one polygon video) I illustrated my liveblog about it!

If you haven't played 999 and you are even a little bit intrigued by a puzzle/mystery visual novel with multiple timelines that all guide you towards wild plot twists...probably don't read the text! 999 is the kind of story that is best experienced with no knowledge besides the basic premise.

Transcript below the cut:

Cormorant: characters in this game really just say shit like "have you heard the story about the crystallization of glycerin?"

as a matter of fact i haven't, june, please enlighten me

Storm: "I know we're stuck in a freezer but. let's talk about weird mythical science!"

Cormorant: it's also killing me that junpei is dressed like marty mcfly and isn't sharing any of his jackets

-----

Cormorant: this game is leading me to arrive at mathematical concepts on my own. what the heck

Storm: kshgushhsg

I take it you're having a good time then

Cormorant: trying to check lotus's work and it turns out that no matter what group i arrange to take through a door, the people left behind will always have the same digital root

so to get through door 7 with snake missing, i could either send a group with sum 16 (junpei, ace, clover, and june) or with sum 25 (clover, june, seven, and lotus), but it doesn't matter because the remainder always have root 9 and can't get through doors 3 or 8! wild!

Storm: yeah the numbers and which doors end up barred to you is so cleverly deliberate

-----

Cormorant: i'm glad i finally checked what novel mode meant, because this is way more fun

Santa cocked his head to one side, like an inquisitive bird, and looked at them.

After several long moments, during which it became apparent that Santa had no idea what the cards meant, June took pity on him.

i'll have to go back and redo the beginning after i get to the first ending

Storm: oh yeah! as I recall that was done differently when it was originally a dual screen game... but it's much better when in novel style. gimme all the descriptions

-----

Cormorant: I had a long day of sitting though presentations and so I entertained myself by calculating digital roots

I discovered that adding 9 or any multiple of 9 to a number has no effect on the digital root, which is awfully interesting bc I got to the part where snake gets killed. Assuming door 3 was opened with 12 and not 21, the options are 7+3 (motive?), 6+4 (they’d both have to be REALLY good actors), or 9+1. And if bracelets work without a body attached, and if ace picked it up in door 5…

That would be a really useful tool to get around the 3-person minimum without altering the digital root

I’m also very intrigued by the theory that zero is also in the game but I don’t know what to do with that yet

Storm: forlornly having to keep myself from saying literally anything

Cormorant: Understandable, please don’t give me any hints! I’m just calling shots for the joy of being wrong

-----

Cormorant: and how do you know that, my traitorous friend?

Santa: “The RED doesn’t need a person, you know.”

Santa: “All I need is the bracelet.”

-----

Cormorant: y’know what i think he’s bluffing. he does need June specifically and that’s why he refused to consider leaving her when they first found door 9. if all he needed was a hostage, he could have grabbed junpei and forced ace to come along, and then he would be dealing with two people under duress instead of three

i peeked at a guide and apparently i found the ending adjacent to the true ending(?) first, oh well. time to see the others!

santa: i said i don't want to leave seven alone

me: bud you can't do a heroic sacrifice too, it'll mess up all the math

reader, he was not doing a heroic sacrifice

-----

Storm: got any character opinions or theories to share so far?

Cormorant: hmm I’ve got soft spots for santa and lotus maybe just because they were in the first group I went with. I like that the game makes a point of showing that lotus is quick with the math/technical knowledge. I warmed up to clover and seven more than I expected to! I have no evidence to mistrust ace….but I don’t trust him

Snake died before I before I could say two words to him

Or…didn’t. Forgot clover said he didn’t

I got info about the previous experiments from clover and I wonder if we’re like…reenacting the past somehow? Experiencing morphogenetic resonance with the last voyage?

Again no evidence i just wonder where the pseudoscience is going

Storm: santa was so my type as soon as I started playing that I just picked all rooms with him on my first run skugrhsghu

Cormorant: AHAHA that makes me feel better about going “yeahhh door 4 I like the cut of this guy’s jib”

-----

Cormorant: “the bracelet comes off when your heart rate reaches zero” interesting then that we’ve brought up cryostasis

-----

Cormorant: i simply don't trust him not to have a spare bracelet in his pocket!!!

They climbed into the elevator and Junpei listened to it creak and rattle its way to the bottom deck. Only Junpei, Ace, and Lotus were left.

As the elevator rumbled out of sight, Ace spoke.

Ace: “Lotus, would you be so kind as to go with me?”

Cormorant: “bad end” YEAH I’LL SAY

Storm: lkksghr yeah there's a few of those!

Cormorant: santa was really quick to declare that he, june, and seven needed to go with clover. waht's his game

june and ace could have done it just as easily

Storm: they could have! good catch

maybe he just thinks seven is cooler than ace,

Cormorant: i'm imagining clover taking all her grisly trophies to the door only to find it already engaged, because lotus needed no persuading,

and regarding the true ending requirements, it's also funny that santa's like "i hate this bookmark! get it out of my sight!" and this is a huge help in junpei befriending the girl who's otherwise about to snap

Storm: load bearing bookmark

Cormorant: good thing you threw that tantrum bud or you would have been killed with an axe

-----

Cormorant: in my suspicions i forgot a critical detail, which is that he didn't actually go into the door with the body this time

of course seven has been propping doors open, so it really could have been anybody

-----

Cormorant: "where have these 16 boys and girls disappeared to?" eight for each game and then an experimenter? again with the idea that zero might be in the game...

-----

Cormorant: bad endings complete! on to the normal ending, which hopefully has less of junpei getting stabbed to death

puzzling over who could have done all those murders, especially in the sub ending...or did everyone get killed? clover thinks that snake's death was faked. or did snake do all the murders, since he was the only one unaccounted for?...and then i remember what kind of game i'm playing. can't discount the ice mummy as a suspect.

Storm: you truly cannot ignore the possibility of the ice mummy

-----

Cormorant: ah no, so santa's sister was the kid that died...

i can't figure out the connection between events! why did the last games have the veneer of a science experiment, while this one has no context given? why was it all kids last time, and a random mix of ages this time, with some repeat subjects?

-----

Cormorant: called it!!!!

Junpei: “Ace, Guy X, and the 9th Man’s bracelet.”

Junpei: “That was all you needed to open door [3].”

Cormorant: called it before i even got to an ending ehehe

what i’ve been saying!!

Ace: “(9) is a potent ally in the Nonary Game.”

Ace: “Adding (9) to any set of numbers won’t alter the digital root.”

Ace: “As you can see, (9) is a very useful number here.”

Ace: “With it, one can go anywhere, with anyone.”

Ace: “It is, I suppose you could say, a game changer.”

-----

Cormorant: okay, normal ending finished! junpei did not get stabbed but we also didn’t resolve much…I’m now thinking that ace with his pocket drugs could have easily played dead in the sub ending

glad to see that snake is okay and hopefully can stay okay in the true ending. where did clover get that riddle, and will she still have it?

0=6. how much do I read into this

still don’t understand how we get from here to santa hostage situation. he’s been so consistent about not even considering betraying or abandoning people, so either he’s a better actor than ace…or it’s staged. are he and june in cahoots

Storm: augh so close now!! soon I can actually say things

-----

Cormorant: O FUCK

Seven: “Santa’s always in the room with her. That’s what you’re saying, isn’t it?”

Snake: “Yes, that’s right.”

Clover: “What about it…?”

Snake: “That’s quite simple, really.”

Snake: “You told me that the first time you came to this room…”

Snake: “…Santa was the first to refuse to leave June behind.”

Snake: “Now, doesn’t that beg the question “why?” Why would Santa do such a thing?”

Snake: “The answer is easy.”

Storm: B)

Cormorant: i've been thinking of them as a pair because it makes the math easier! if you've got 3 + 6 + 8, just cross out the ones that make 9 and don't even bother with the addition, your root is 8

Storm: B) B) B)

Cormorant: but god!! they are a pair, do not separate (or the jig is up)

Storm: they hid it soooo well

-----

Cormorant: was wondering when we would see the last cradle guy and oh duh, he was guy X

i did think it was odd that santa phrased it as "i need to leave two of you behind" rather than "i need three of you to come with me," but if he was responsible for everything (most things?), he knew that snake was there, and he was setting up a group that could follow him. excited to see where this is going!

[dreamy sigh] this game is so elegant. what a little puzzle box

Storm: yeah it is, it's just so wonderfully crafted. so little is wasted!

-----

Cormorant: oh boy [akane vision label]

"through the morphic fieldset we were resonant, and we were as one" i don't think i've mentioned it before but i'm constantly pleasantly surprised by the narration in this game. it's not flashy but it's evocative in a way that's really working for me

Storm: this is where the port falls short a bit of the original version... the ds really worked well with this aspect

-----

Cormorant: the number of times i thought "this will be totally wrong but i'll say it to storm anyway"

hello??? [arrow pointing back to the message “I wonder if we’re like…reenacting the past somehow? Experiencing morphogenetic resonance with the last voyage?”]

Storm: Y E A H

Cormorant: laser-guided spitballing

-----

Cormorant: man i said that 4+6 would have to be really good actors if they were the ones that opened door 3...and while they didn't kill snake, i sure underestimated our queen of the stage akane kurashiki

the baseline was NOT where i thought it was

Storm: no one does it like her

[greenfiend]

Will Byers the Love Guru

In Stranger Things 3, he’s the one who’s “not gonna fall in love”, yet he’s out there fixing every one else’s relationship problems…

Lucas/Max

Jonathan/Nancy

Dustin/Suzie

Hopper/Joyce

and even…

Mike/Eleven…

So come along on this wild journey with me as I explain Will’s influence on those pairings…

Before I begin, I must remind you that everything is intentional within this show. If Will suddenly appears within a shot or someone says or does something that doesn’t seem relevant… it is still relevant but just not in the way you might initially think.

I’m going to start with the more simple “fixes” and end with the most complicated.

Lucas/Max

Their relationship in ST3 was fairly low key. Their “breakups” were not serious and were always temporary. Lucas does mess up at times though.

Oops! Code red! Code red! Lucas needs some help asap!

Well that was a close call! Thanks to Will of course, who magically appeared in this shot and clearly influenced Lucas.

Will understands the mysteries of the female species better than these guys clearly. Not sure what they’d do without him.

Jonathan/Nancy

Jonathan and Nancy had a major fight in ST3, and Will is having none of his big bro’s BS! He instantly calls him out for not being there for Nancy.

Will strikes again! Thank goodness for his influence. What a good little bro!

Dustin/Suzie

Okay, things are getting stranger now.

No one believes Dustin has a girlfriend… except for our dear lil Will! But I can’t really blame the others, she did seem unbelievable. I mean she did come from “Camp Know Where”. Sounds pretty made up to me.

Did Will conjure her up? Well… let’s just say it’s interesting that the first ever shot we see of her involves her holding up a book about a wizard… I’m not ruling this out as a possibility… 🧙🏻‍♂️

Hopper/Joyce

Oh Will… sweet sweet Will. He’s worried about his mother, and doesn’t want her to be alone anymore… so what does he do, you ask? Well…

He Marty Mcflys it! He influences Hopper by “flaying” him and pushes him together with his mom!

Things get a tad awkward though. But his intentions were pure!

Mike/Eleven

So… this one is the most complicated one because Will is very biased here obviously. He’s hopelessly in love with Mike. In the beginning, he had a hand in Mike and El’s breakup as he was pulling the strings behind Hopper’s intervention. Hopper “threatened” Mike due to Will’s influence. Now, don’t worry, Will didn’t actually threaten to kill Mike, Mike made that very clear.

Mike and Will have their epic rain fight and things are tense.

Until… Will has a change of heart.

Notice how Will is clearly in the shot here? Well it’s because he is wanting to give his “olive branch” to Mike. He’s tried of the tension between them and wants to make things right.

Look at the words here! These are not Mike’s words. They’re Will’s words to Mike!

Both of these moments are Will putting words into Mike’s mouth, just as he did to Lucas, Jonathan, and Hopper! But he’s not as successful.

The first moment was just bad timing as El was not even present. The second time, the connection was poor, that’s why Mike was literally drawing blanks and unable to complete his sentences. We know this because the walkie talkie call from Dustin provided the subtext for it.

Mike actually doesn’t even remember saying the words because Will said them for him…

In conclusion, Will is a great love guru, but still cannot fix Mike and El’s problems. Dunno if even the most powerful wizard could successfully fix their problems…

[lunarriviera]

the huo daofu round-up post i have been threatening for a really long time now

Thinking about this man, I was just admitting to chat "honestly cannot believe how much life energy i have invested in such a minor character" but the truth of the matter is, I was mildly obsessed with Huo Daofu from Reboot alone; his odd unresolved backstory in Sha Hai just cemented my mental formation. Because let's be real, in a world of overly earnest tomb raiders, this man is a goddamn catty delight. The dainty bitterness! The barely concealed eye-rolling! So many impeccable That Bitch vibes. And his unimpressed snark is honestly such a refreshing antidote to Wu Xie's whole everyone-loves-him Marty Sue thing that even when you discover Huo Daofu secretly ALSO loves him, you don't mind, because by that point Dr. Youtiao is a savage queen who can do no wrong.

And He Longlong clearly made this guy up. In the novels he's just sort of a vaguely beardy guy who drives a truck, that's literally all I remember him ever doing. But someone cast this man, and they gave him some rubber bands and pizza coupons and chewed gum of a script to work with, and he promptly decided: I will make him extremely gay. And staggeringly bitchy. AND IT WORKS. He devours every frame he's in, he steals every scene. It's a performance worthy of Alan Rickman and yes I will die upon this hill.

We all know the bitchy-ex-boyfriend scenes in Reboot—"oh my god I literally can't wait for you to perish from lungs" and then Huo Daofu spends like every moment trying to keep Wu Xie alive, sheltering him uselessly from the rain with his hand, rubbing his back when he coughs, looking (when no one's watching but the camera) like he's maybe going to stop breathing himself, when Wu Xie does.

Apparently Huo Daofu's name sounds very silly in Chinese which I think is appropriate for someone who apparently (?) grew up in Germany (?) and went to the University of Heidelberg (?) (honestly don't waste time trying to figure out DMBJ canon, NPSS has thoughtfully ensured that will only be exhausting and futile). Spurious medical qualifications aside, he's super handy in fanfic, too, when you need a sketchy doctor, as all tomb-raiding mob families invariably do.

[someone once pointed out to me that this combination of degree topics basically translates into "how to dispose of bodies"]

I could also hold forth on him and Yang Hao—like, Su Wan alone makes it REAL clear that Huo Daofu's interest in the kid isn't just avuncular or entrepreneurial:

"Are you working for him, or are you working for him?" And Su Wan should be protective, because Yang Hao is honestly kind of an idiot, and probably doesn't realize he's being assiduously groomed not just as a mob boss but as a potential boy toy. (NB by the way that there are 44 fics in the Huo Daofu/Yang Hao tag, and disappointingly, not a single one of them is in English. Western fandom needs Jesus.)

But the thing is, Huo Daofu SAVES his ass in Gutongjing. Everyone forgets that. There's easily half a dozen times where he grabs Yang Hao's shoulder and hauls him back from danger. And Huo Daofu is the one Jiumen member smart enough to get out ahead of disaster, and to take Yang Hao with him. Here he is looking fabulous in a completely unnecessary but dramatic scarf.

And, at the end, he lets Yang Hao go. Because he's secretly decent.

Sure, he has some vaguely sketchy take-over-the-Huos plans, plans that clearly go awry at some point no matter how dramatically and villainously he makes tea. Sure, he exudes a scurrilous sort of evil. But he's COMPELLING and that's all I care about. Look at his pretty little face here, sourly plotting things, in a windowpane-checked suit which should be ridiculous but just winds up looking snazzy as fuck compared to the rest of the Jiumen. This is a man who understands the value of a pocket square. Thank you so much, He Longlong, we didn't deserve you putting your entire snatch into this very minor performance but some of us are extremely grateful.

So here are seven ficrecs, with a podfic and a meta from AO3. Please let me know if I should add anything (Tumblr meta?)—this post WILL be updated, because I have too much time on my hands and care unreasonably about the mean-spirited little bastard.

‡

Remember how this used to be (3569 words) by achray Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: 盗墓笔记重启 | The Lost Tomb Reboot (TV) Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Huo Daofu/Wu Xie (DMBJ Series) Characters: Huo Daofu (DMBJ Series), Wu Xie (DMBJ Series), Wang Pangzi Additional Tags: Missing Scene, Angst, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Background Wu Xie/Zhang Qiling, Wu Xie being a gremlin, Canon-typical references to illness Summary:

“That wasn’t a no,” Wu Xie said, his smile widening. “I thought you still wanted me.”

Notes: How is this both hot and sad? I don't know, that's the magic of fanfiction. This was the first Wu Xie/Huo Daofu fic I ever read and frankly the genre needs more entries, but this is a good one.

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the rime dictionary of Wu Xie (7433 words) by scherzanda Chapters: 6/6 Fandom: 盗墓笔记重启 | The Lost Tomb Reboot (TV) Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Wu Xie/Zhang Qiling, Wang Pangzi/Ye Piaopiao, Wang Pangzi & Wu Xie & Zhang Qiling Characters: Wu Xie (DMBJ Series), Wang Pangzi, Zhang Qiling, Ye Piaopiao, Huo Daofu (DMBJ Series), Xiao Mei, Wu Erbai, Li Jiale (DMBJ Series) Additional Tags: Piaopiao lives, Post-Canon, Canon Flashbacks, canonical illness, fun with the common cold, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Handwaved SI Recovery, Canon-typical Ershu Infodump, Quasi-History-Compliant, Yuletide Treat Summary:

This is why (even now) Wu Xie shouldn’t be let out alone—one trip out to the provinces, and he comes home with a bad cold and an unsolved mystery.

Notes: this is one of my very favorite Huo Daofu writers and here's why—read this little excerpt. The angst. The PAIN. Wu Xie absolutely broke this man's heart at some point and honestly Huo Daofu is really only himself if he's suffering, love that for him:

“Easy,” he said, when Wu Xie couldn’t seem to stop coughing. “Here—” and reached for the rest of the tea, except that it wasn’t on the table any longer.

Zhang Qiling was holding the mug; he had somehow gone around to the other side of the bed, moving in that flowing now-you-see-it-now-you-don’t way that never seemed quite human, to sit down cross-legged on the bed by Wu Xie so that their shoulders touched. Huo Daofu snatched his hand away from Wu Xie’s back as if an electrical current might flow through the double contact.

“Wu Xie,” Zhang Qiling said, and then something else so quiet it was inaudible, holding the tea so Wu Xie could drink.

Looking at the open tenderness on that remote, beautiful face, utterly focused on Wu Xie, made Huo Daofu feel as if his flesh was trying to part ways with his bones. It was a pain his medical texts didn’t have a word for, deeper and more primitive than jealousy or resentment.

Wu Xie, getting his breath back, looked sideways at him with one of those sudden grins. “Sorry, Xiao Huo. You’re still out of luck when it comes to watching me die. Maybe next time.”

Huo Daofu’s voice would not quite leave his throat. Instead, Xiao Mei said crossly “Tianzhen-shu, that’s dumb.” Most of her attention was still on her phone screen. “Why would Dr. Huo want to watch you die.”

Wu Xie looked at him, still smiling.

“It’s a long story,” said Huo Daofu, “and it doesn’t matter now.”

‡

even through hesitation (10407 words) by naiwong_bao Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: 盗墓笔记重启 | The Lost Tomb Reboot (TV), 沙海 | Tomb of the Sea (TV), 盗墓笔记 - 南派三叔 | The Grave Robbers' Chronicles - Xu Lei Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Huo Daofu & Huo Xiuxiu, Hei Xia Zi/Huo Xiuxiu/Xie Yuchen Characters: Huo Daofu (DMBJ Series), Huo Xiuxiu, Yang Hao (DMBJ Series), Hei Xia Zi (DMBJ Series), Xie Yuchen, Wu Xie (DMBJ Series), Wang Pangzi Additional Tags: Found Family, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Character Study, Alternate Universe - Fantasy Series: Part 3 of this is where we live Summary:

He’s a boy so Huo Daofu knows from the beginning that there are no expectations for him, he can do as he likes. So he plays, he cries, he does what children do.

Then his parents die.

No one wants him, no one has time for him, so his family sends him to Germany for school. It’ll be a good opportunity, his family says. He can do whatever he wants, be free of the family business, they’ll take care of him over there. He doesn’t want to go, he doesn't know who they are, but he doesn’t get a say.

So he goes to Germany where the language is strange, the food is strange, the people are strange, and he wants to go home so badly that his teeth ache.

Huo Daofu builds a life for himself, but at the first sign of trouble, years and years and years later, he rents out his apartment to an acquaintance, and flies home.

But.

The language is strange, he doesn’t know the slang, the food is strange, the people are strange.

His family is cold and he still doesn’t get a say. --- Huo Daofu between the end of Tomb of the Sea and when he reappears in Reboot. AKA Huo Daofu learns to care a little.

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The Mark of a Man (2279 words) by JhanaMay Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: 沙海 | Tomb of the Sea (TV), 盗墓笔记 - 南派三叔 | The Grave Robbers' Chronicles - Xu Lei Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Huo Daofu & Yang Hao (DMBJ Series) Characters: Huo Daofu (DMBJ Series), Yang Hao (DMBJ Series) Additional Tags: Loneliness, Found Family even when it makes you want to scream, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Huo Daofu is a mediocre role model Series: Part 8 of The Art of Conversation, Part 7 of The Art of Conversation Side Stories Summary:

When Huo Daofu inducted Yang Hao into the Huo family business, he wasn't expecting to become the boy's de facto babysitter.

Notes: a poignant little vignette in which Huo Daofu has a heart.

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[META] Huo Daofu's Youtiao Stand (739 words) by Thimblerig Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: 盗墓笔记 - 南派三叔 | The Grave Robbers' Chronicles - Xu Lei, 沙海 | Tomb of the Sea (TV), 盗墓笔记重启 | The Lost Tomb Reboot (TV) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Huo Daofu & Huo Xiuxiu, Huo Daofu & Wu Xie (DMBJ Series) Characters: Huo Daofu (DMBJ Series) Additional Tags: Meta, Worldbuilding, Huo Daofu's Delicious Fried Snacks Series: Part 2 of DMBJ Meta Summary:

Huo Daofu is a supporting character in Sand Sea. Ambitious, wily, hungry, he’s far from one of the main villains of the story but he’s not nice, either. By the end of Sand Sea Huo Daofu has exploited the chaos caused by the ill-founded expedition to Gutongjing to take over various of the Huo Family operations.

When he appears in Reboot: Sound of Providence, he is a purveyor of delicious fried bread snacks. He’s clearly not hurting for money, so why…?

Notes: this is one of my favorite little HDF explorations, theorizing that Huo Xiuxiu busted him down a rank, and I think that's beautiful.

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starting in darkness, like a pure line of light (10167 words) by scherzanda Chapters: 5/5 Fandom: 盗墓笔记重启 | The Lost Tomb Reboot (TV) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Huo Daofu/Bai Haotian, Bai Haotian & Wu Xie, Liu Sang & Wu Xie (DMBJ Series), Bai Haotian & Liu Sang Characters: Wu Xie (DMBJ Series), Huo Daofu (DMBJ Series), Bai Haotian, Liu Sang (DMBJ Series), Wang Pangzi, Zhang Qiling Additional Tags: background pingxie, background Iron Triangle, past Wu Xie/Huo Daofu, Post-Canon, hurt/sarcasm, Fade to Black, Dialogue Heavy, meta-adjacent, Self-Indulgent Use of Chinese, Emotional Hurt/Comfort Summary:

Some emotional loose ends are never going to be tied up, but at least they can be recognized and shared. Or, a selection of the worst best only ways to comfort one another in the aftermath.

Notes: absolutely nothing makes me, a Huo Daofu stan, happier than scherzanda's fics featuring him. You would think this is an odd pairing, but it's really not—the two people who love Wu Xie most and are left behind by him? They have so much in common. Also, this fic has a podfic!

[PODFIC] starting in darkness, like a pure line of light, by scherzanda (701 words) by Thimblerig Chapters: 3/3 Fandom: 盗墓笔记重启 | The Lost Tomb Reboot (TV), 盗墓笔记 - 南派三叔 | The Grave Robbers' Chronicles - Xu Lei Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Huo Daofu/Bai Haotian, Bai Haotian & Wu Xie, Liu Sang & Wu Xie (DMBJ Series), Bai Haotian & Liu Sang Characters: Wu Xie (DMBJ Series), Huò Dàofū, Bai Haotian, Liu Sang (DMBJ Series), Wang Pangzi, Zhang Qiling Additional Tags: background pingxie, background Iron Triangle, past Wu Xie/Huo Daofu, Post-Canon, hurt/sarcasm, Fade to Black, Dialogue Heavy, Meta Adjacent, Self-Indulgent Use of Chinese, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Podfic, podficcer not a native chinese-speaker but is doing her best, Podfic Length: 1-1.5 Hours

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do the work, love the work (1616 words) by scherzanda Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: 盗墓笔记重启 | The Lost Tomb Reboot (TV) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Characters: Huo Daofu (DMBJ Series), Wu Xie (DMBJ Series), Wang Pangzi, Zhang Qiling, Liu Sang (DMBJ Series), Bai Haotian, Wu Erbai Additional Tags: Mid-Canon, Missing Scene, Character Study, Post-Canon, Yuletide Treat Summary:

It doesn't always look that way, but Huo Daofu is doing his best.

Notes: once again I just have to excerpt, so you'll GET IT:

The train had nearly reached Hangzhou by the time Wu Xie spoke to him beyond the commonplace. He was still sitting in the corridor, staring dreamily at the growing suburbs, while Zhang Qiling gave Wang Pangzi a hand in the cabin. He looked up as Huo Daofu came back from the hot water dispenser. “Xiao Huo, xinkule. Sorry you never got that chance to watch me die, eh?”

Huo Daofu closed his eyes and looked away from Wu Xie’s smile, unshadowed now with death, brilliant and painful. “I’m sorry too,” he said, eyes still closed, and did not say any of the things he was sorry for.

‡

not only the sugar, but the days (3000 words) by A Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: 盗墓笔记重启 | The Lost Tomb Reboot (TV), 盗墓笔记 - 南派三叔 | The Grave Robbers' Chronicles - Xu Lei Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Bai Haotian/Huo Daofu Characters: Huo Daofu (DMBJ Series), Bai Haotian Additional Tags: Mentions of Death, Healing, Getting Together, Youtiao as a Metaphor, Also Actual Youtiao Summary:

His gaze meets Bai Haotian's, who's trying so hard to keep it together, and he knows that Wu Xie will break her heart when he dies, and it won't even be his fault. He never fucking means to.

Notes: another recent entry in the HDF/Bai Haotian post-canon and I love it unreasonably. They both love Wu Xie SO MUCH and it's just taking them OUT. Their subsequent connection is natural and it's funny as hell, the author loves them both and it shows:

"Are you really sure?" Bai Haotian says softly, and Huo Daofu looks up.

"What?"

"About the week."

"At best," he says, then winces. Fuck it. "It'll be three days," he says, loud enough to carry through the bedroom door, "if he keeps pulling these stunts!" There's a muffled noise and some very clear profanity from Pangzi, which Huo Daofu ignores. "See if I care!" he adds, but it's just not the same without Wu Xie there to grin at him, unrepentant.

He can feel Bai Haotian's hand covering his own, just loosely, where it's half curled into a fist against his thigh. He turns his head. The look she gives him is so full of unquestioning kindness, of understanding, he almost has to close his eyes against it.

"I'm sure," he says quietly, not really looking at her. "But he's proven me wrong before."

He can see her nod as she takes that in, and then they just sit there in silence, her hand over his, not moving.

‡

In conclusion, just because I can, from some of my favorite posts:

[ohyka]

[jeong-guwon]

[januaryisnotanartist]

Please also do not fail to check out the magnificent Dr Mal Practice post, as well as "it's not his fucking birthday" and "I'll fucking do it but christ alive." These users truly understand the essence of Huo Daofu.

PS also don't sleep on Huo Daofu and Liu Sang having a fabulous bitch-off in Hua Mei, a Sha Hai side story ft. haunted Wushanju. Another side story, Ran Gu, also has a swooning Kan Jian. Quality entertainment!

[martypilled]

I’M GOING TO EXPLODE MARTY WITH MY MIND I LOVE HIM

[palmviolet]

true detective s1 rewatch: thoughts on the finale

— our theme for this final masterpiece of an episode is: fiction. the series has skated near this before, of course, with its context themes of seeing and image, but this is the episode that really dives into an awareness of genre and storytelling. we begin with an in-depth look at errol childress and his home, the way he lives. he truly inhabits the southern gothic archetype — the grand, decaying house, the incestuous dynamic with reference to the 'cane fields' (something i haven't really discussed yet is the role of louisiana's history of slavery, which hangs over the narrative most conspicuous by its absence; angola, for example, that fabled threat used most often to imply sexual violence, is named after the slave plantation that once occupied the same plot; the place they filmed carcosa was an old civil war fort), the faceless dolls and the mummified father kept in a shack with horrors literally inscribed on the walls (including 'cassilda', another reference to the chambers work).

— childress also watches the television and apes the aristocratic british accents on display. he absorbs fiction and inhabits it, in the same way that he puts on an irish accent to flirt with betty, in the same way that he has her tell him the story of her assault while they are 'making flowers' (a metaphor that once again suggests we are beyond the realm of reality). he and betty are deliberately, exaggeratedly gothic, full of rot — they are designed not as fleshed-out characters, as most of TD's cast is, but as avatars for a gnawing belief in the void that consumes all in its path.

— this is the crux of rust's own beliefs about the futility of selfhood — that identities are illusory defence mechanisms against the void, that all we are is 'sentient meat'. (will be talking more about this line in my reply to an excellent ask by @queixumes, so look out for that.) that life is just a story we tell ourselves. and so with the childresses the veil grows thin: as rust follows childress into carcosa, childress's impossible taunts ("come die with me, little priest") echo around him less as character moments and more as authorial interjections, a manifestation of rust's own nihilistic belief and suicidal ideation. thus when rust does not complete the narrative ("take off your mask"; rust doesn't say the corresponding, "i wear no mask") he is breaking type, paradoxically defying the vacant literary formula in which he's trapped by expressing a self.

— the final scenes of the series entail rust's struggle with this newfound self. he has turned away the offering of the cosmic void; more than that, he has been to the void and found it not as empty and personality-less as he thought, but rather a void 'like a substance', a darkness that held the love of his daughter and his father in one. their selves persevered after death — and now finally he begins to recognise his own selfhood as well.

— this is reified by marty as a sounding board. for the first time, rust experiences recognition through the other with marty as that other — marty who listens to him cry ("talk to me, rust"), marty who encourages him to tell his stories of the stars. this is the other side of storytelling — the side that is not corrupt or empty, the side that has meaning because it is sincere, because it is earnest and with feeling. childress's storytelling is directly opposed to rust's, with childress an empty caricature of the rotten southern gothic and rust as a person looking to the stars: storytelling that does not suck inward to the void but looks outward to the world.

— i think it's significant that our final image of marty and rust is marty helping rust escape the hospital several days early. marty reifies rust's selfhood by something so simple as recognising what he likes — buying him his brand of cigarettes. but this is also in opposition to the medical institution. should someone with a hole in their guts be smoking? doubtful. but that's not the point — the point is that they have to "get out from under this [hospital] roof" in order to see the stars, that rust's lasting glimpse of hope ("the light's winning") is as he flees the institution, propped up not by its mechanics, in the form of the wheelchair, but by marty himself.

— as i've discussed in the past, TD's implications of the medical institution as a further corrupt branch of the state are very veiled, but they are present. there's a further signal of this in one of the hazy, slowly cross-fading shots towards the end: we see a doctor in the hospital hallway, carrying the image of a human body, fading into a shot of the childress shack with a human body drawn on it.

placed directly one after another, this is a juxtaposition that only associates the two. the shack is where childress keeps his desiccated father, talks about bringing him water, hosing him down — in some perverse way, treating him as a patient. this isn't designed to say explicitly that the hospital is involved in the conspiracy to the same degree as the tuttles, but it implies a broader institutional sweep of wrongness. within the medical institution is where most of us will experience ourselves at our most powerless; out of necessity, medical treatment strips identity and agency away, regimenting schedules and meals and visiting hours, labelling patients with identifying bracelets. in the same way that childress's narratives of southern gothic were a seductive call to the void of nothing, the absence of selfhood, the hospital, too, denies personality and self.

— this is why we finish with marty bringing rust his cigarettes against medical advice; this is why rust leaves the hospital, if not exactly on his own terms then at least on his and marty's. it is a final reclamation of the selfhood he has been denying himself all along — and an escape into a world that contains only one story, "light versus dark", as our final shot is of the stars winking into light. he is beyond our (potentially corrupting, as sight and image has been throughout the series) interpretation; he is in the void, yes, but it is a void with substance, a void with love.

[pettypiastri]

playing house

arber xhekaj x fem reader

wc: 2.6k

warnings: swearing, minor injury/tending to injury, reader is disappointed in themselves, financial insecurity, hurt/comfort

a/n: injuries are not accurate to the specific fight mentioned, idiot as a term of endearment :) feedback is always appreciated, my inbox is a safe space and anons are on!

You’ve been playing house with Arber for the past few weeks now. After Marty gave Arber the disappointed look for being tardy to practice once (literally, just once), he used it as the perfect excuse for you to half move in with him. He’d slyly placed a pink toothbrush next to his black one and bought duplicates of your favorite products. He later admitted– with a scratch of his neck and blushing cheeks– when you asked him in a mini panic why he had the Laneige lip mask on his bedside table, that he’d snooped around your apartment and snapped pics of your drawers when he was over.

“It’s not a big deal baby,” he’d cooed, bundling you up tightly in his arms. “Think of it like a test run since your lease is ending soon. If you like being here you can just move in then!” You’d held your protest on the matter back for once in your life when you cast your eyes around and saw the room riddled with your presence: hair ties on his bedside table, your shirts cuddled up neatly next to his in the closet, extra firm pillows stacked on one side of the bed, even your bra, discarded hastily, that you really did need to pick up. The idea did make logical sense.

However, it still gave you pause. You knew Arber would insist on paying for the rent in full. You’ve always hated him spending anything on you for fear that if things ever went sour, it might be something you’d feel guilty about. Arber just didn’t get it. He should, coming from a blue collar background, but at the first whiff of being able to provide for himself and the people he loves without worry, he did just that. He takes pride in doing that. Though he is not very long removed from the lifestyle that you still find yourself in, your hesitations ring foreign to him sometimes. Your insistence on buying things for the apartment and yourself, saving for months and still having to scrounge to fly out for the odd away game, and skipping drinks at the bar to keep your tab down, have all been points of contention in your relationship. Arber just wants to provide for you, keep you from worrying about the aforementioned things, but maintaining financial independence is something you’ve emphasized, potentially too many times, as being important to you. 

Still, Arber is unrelenting. Sneaking his credit card over the counter while tempting you to look at the cute dog across the street, food for two (well, three with how he eats) appearing in his fridge, the odd designer piece being placed in one of your drawers, be it at your place or his… He always insisted, with a damning kiss to your protesting lips, that you’d pay him back in other ways.

And so tonight, you guess, is one of those ways. Arber had dummied Zach Kassian in the first. You watched with held breath as he rag dolled the older man to the ice and marched himself right to the box, arms pumping the air with testosterone riddled adrenaline. While in the moment, you always watch his fights through split fingers, his time in the sin bin and any replays you might sneakily watch before he gets home, ignite a different set of feelings. Arber had found out about your little secret after his first preseason fight; you’d had three cups of tea the next day and took a half day at work. Unfortunately, you think you’ve Pavlov’d the idiot into fighting more. Much to the dismay of your Arber’s medicine cabinet. While you’re resolute on not giving in tonight, you saw his split hand leaking blood onto the penalty box floor and know it will need more tending to when he gets home. 

Home. To your shared apartment. The one you have a set of keys to that is on a ridiculously high floor of a beautiful building in downtown Montreal. A sigh escapes your lips as you forcibly push down the guilt creeping up your throat like heartburn. 

You busy yourself with menial tasks until Arber gets back: empty and reload the dishwasher, put a load of towels in the wash, shower and do your skincare, write a grocery list for the week… Even the chores remind you of your grievance. The realization of how much Arber’s little plan has caused codependence to permeate your lifestyle releases a huff from your chest. 

Fear has driven your active prevention of this type of lifestyle well thus far. But clearly not well enough as you take in the sheer amount Arber has spent on you, as exemplified by the apartment, and how interconnected your daily lives are. Your frustration mounts at being incapable of upholding multiple things so morally important to you. Arber is not to blame. Not for loving you fiercely and wanting your life to be comfortable. You just wish you’d been more perceptive of the changes and flimsiness of your backbone. 

With your annoyance peaking and all the timing of a dumbass idiot, Arber waltzes through the door. He radiates cockiness as he takes in your form standing mere feet from the front door.

“Waiting for me were ya sweetheart?”

You can’t stop yourself from rolling your eyes; your childish annoyance at how much you love your boyfriend and love living in his stupid fucking apartment with him, taking over. You turn on your heel and begin a pouty stomp up the stairs. Curse him for being so pretty and confident and stupid and and– just absolutely everything you love to hate right now. 

“Baby that was my best fight yet and you’re gonna make me work for it?” His voice drifts up the stairs after you but your pace is unrelenting. And it’s the fact that if you weren’t currently in the middle of an unjustified rageful spiral, you’d have already jumped him (and he knows it) that has you retaliating,

“Jesus Arber! Maybe you should stop assuming that doing your job entitles you to sex!” 

Yet down by the doorway, Arber, the self proclaimed kind and gentle guy, accustomed to the sharpness of your hangry tongue or the unpredictability of your insecurities, gives pause rather than rising to your jab. He’s still for a moment. After a heartbeat, the arc of his confused brow accompanies him toeing off his dress shoes and his dissipating cockiness. He pauses before following you up the stairs, unsure if he should take his tie off or leave it on for you to loosen like always. He sets his keys in the bowl on the entryway table, something you’d brought over the other day. He notices a pink gel pen list hanging on the fridge, pinned by a magnet from your favorite coffee shop. 

With assured steps, Arber makes his way upstairs, following the warm white glow toward your en suite bathroom. He peers cautiously around the doorway. Your eyes, filled with an annoyance similar to that of a rain dampened cat, meet his. 

“Well come on then. I saw the cut on your hand.” You mutter, emotionless, eyes darting back toward where you’re rifling through bandaids and antiseptic. 

“Still gonna play nurse even when you’re pissed with me?” Arber’s question lifts at the end, forced upward reactionarily by a squeeze of his heart. He knows then that you’re not really upset with him; he’d have had the door slammed in his face promptly after a pillow and blanket were tossed in his direction if you were. He takes a cautious step toward you, arms swirling around your torso and head dropping to the perfectly shaped crevice in your neck. 

The last remaining shreds of petty protest against a crime Arber himself hasn’t even committed, have you writhing gently in his grasp. 

“Arber–”

“Shhh,” he hushes softly, “ ‘M not tryna get with you. Put those claws away will ya?”

Your head rolls back against his ducked shoulder. You refuse to meet his eyes as the last of your anger bleeds away into tepid frustration; your love for being in his strong arms at any time grows to outweigh your desire to maintain this cold front and shrug him off. The stillness of your frame urges Arber to press an unassuming kiss against your soft skin.. and another… and maybe one more for good luck.

“What’s going on baby? Something happen?” The roughness of his quiet voice causes your pulse to hum. This feels like home, you think, which fuels a surge of fresh frustration. 

“I– just take your shirt off would you? I’m tired and wanna get this over with so I can go to bed.” You surge forward to break from his grasp. Spinning on your heel, you cross your arms indignantly to accompany the pointed look you give him. You watch Arber pick his words carefully. 

“You always do it for me…” 

It’s obvious then that he’s not nervous or frustrated or treading carefully with you. He’s being his normal teddy bear self in hopes that his vulnerability will encourage yours. Your permafrost layer melts at the realization. Now shy under his honest gaze, your eyes fall to his dress shirt and tie. You’d picked this tie for him before he left. Arber always claimed he was color half-blind. Really he just wanted to try and kiss you while your focused face was so close to his, your tongue peeking out in concentration. Nimble hands reach to unthread the knot he haphazardly retied postgame.

He’s silent as he watches, though his eyes speak loudly of his love. With self assuredness he has come to expect, you place the unraveled tie on the counter behind you and move swiftly to unbutton his shirt. 

“Can’t get blood on this damn thing again. Dry cleaner can’t get the stain out my ass…” Arber smiles at your muttered musings. Your hands slip over his now bare chest to rid him of the garment. Without instruction, he turns to sit on the closed toilet. With sure hands, you reach for the isopropyl alcohol you’ve singed his skin with many times now and prepare a cotton round. You notice you don’t have to prod at his knee with your own: he’s already created a space for you between his legs.

“Why are you upset baby?”

Your eyes flick to his for the first time in a few bated minutes. Arber’s stare is so genuine you chew your answer a few times before opening your mouth. Having to say it out loud causes you to bristle one more fruitless time. 

“Cause we’re like… so fucking domestic its ridiculous.” Your hands fiddle restlessly with the drenched cotton pad, not moving to press it against his skin. 

Arber’s endeared smirk is immediate. He thinks it's cute when you’re frustrated. Unafraid hands reach for the back of your thighs, tugging gently to place you well within his personal space. His strong fingers brush up and down your legs. You reach to thumb at his collarbone, looking for something to do to dissipate your uneasy energy. Arber gives your ass a gentle squeeze, drawing you impossibly closer to him. 

“Soo.. you’re pissed about a pink gel pen list on our fridge…” His teasing tone has Hades flames sparking in your eyes again. Without hesitation or remorse, you press the cotton pad idle in your hand to a cut under his left eye. 

“Oww shit! Fuck baby give a guy some warn–” 

“Your fridge!” You hiss, before gasping and falling slightly forward. You catch yourself on Arber’s shoulder and try not to blush at the way your boyfriend’s hands squeezed and pulled at your body on reflex. 

“Y/N we’ve been over this.” Arber groans softly, both in pain and frustration. 

“Okay and? Don’t get pissy with me about it if I wanna make it clear that this is your apartment and–.” 

“Sweetheart, you just shoved rubbing alcohol so hard into my face I felt it in my ass okay? Gimme a break here.” His sigh is muddled by a breathy chuckle, his grip loosening a fraction. 

Arber creaks his eyes open slowly to find you sheepish and blushing. Your stare however, in contention, remains confident, unwavering. Arber’s hands skate over the curve of your ass up to your waist. His eyes are kind. 

“Come ‘ere. White flag baby… truce.” Always bending at the will of his strong hands, you let him move you to straddle his hips. His hands roam innocently, Arber finding comfort in your closeness. A gentle drag of the cotton across his cut has you setting the piece aside. Your arms come to reach around his neck, flicking his backwards hat off his head. His nose brushes yours. You fiddle gently with his damp hair. 

“Soo… it’s not our house?” Arber asks gently after a few beats. Your bangs fall from behind your ear as you shake your head softly. With careful fingers, Arber drags his hand over your cheek to replace your hair behind your ear. As you lean into his palm a feather light fraction, Arber hums.

“Alright… that’s okay sweetheart. I get it.” Another pause. “Are you scared about it being our house? What is it that’s upsetting you?” His voice is sure, even. 

You try to craft your explanation but it’s wildly distracting looking into Arber’s eyes and seeing the moon he’s hung for you. Even worse when he places the softest kiss on your lips.

“You can do it honey, it’s okay.” With an encouraging tap to your ass, you find your voice.

“I… I’m worried you’ll resent me for taking so much from you.” 

Your head droops before you can see the confusion quickly overridden by love in Arber’s expression. His nose bumps your forehead.

“You’re my home… what’s mine is yours.” 

He says it like it’s simple.

The unassuming kiss on your forehead and then cheek makes you believe maybe it is.

You’re sure it is when you see the purity of Arber’s expression. Your thumb reaches out to brush his cheek in hopes to see if he’s real; that a man could look at you the way Arber is right now.

“You can still be as independent as you want, I’m sorry if I’ve been too much.” You shake your head insistently, not knowing how to articulate verbally that the way he loves you is already more than you think you deserve. 

“That’s why we’re doing baby steps though, right? Until you see I’m for real.” He adds.

A snort follows a few moments later as does a teasing squeeze from Arber.

“I mean you’re the one who brought the onion chopper over and that ridiculously specific laundry detergent.” He smiles at you as he jostles you in his lap, boyish glee making him the most handsome you’ve ever seen him. Your armor falls without your consent, a smile to match Arber’s betraying you. 

“You told me you love the onion dicer…” At this Arber laughs. You lean forward to kiss the smile off his lips, getting lost for a moment.

“You’re right I did.” He pulls you back with his hand splayed across your neck and thumb under your chin to kiss you deeper. The feel of his hard chest against yours and his locks slipping through your fingers distracts you for a moment. You’re so in sync with each other you’re not sure if your hips roll over his on your own accord or if Arber does it for you.

But he’s not done. Suggestive hands reveal the answer when he murmurs lowly, “Now finish up so I can take care of you.”

[bobcatmoran]

So, I went to see Back to the Future: The Musical today. The special effects (including an Actual Delorean) were top-tier, with very good use of multiple layers of projection to look like the Delorean was going up to 88 mph and then traveling through time. I cracked up at the pre-show "Please turn off your cell phones, they did not exist in 1985" projected messages.

The choreography for the dance numbers was also very good, and I have zero complaints about any of the actors except the guy who played Doc Brown with so much Comedic Mugging and Funny Voice that I wouldn't have been able to understand even half of what he said if so much of the dialogue wasn't ripped direct from the movie. The actor for George McFly excelled at physical comedy, the actor for Lorraine (Marty's mom) played her character as EXTREMELY horny while the Marty actor dug into the "aghghghgh nononono" response. And there was some very funny bits with diagetic chorus suddenly becoming non-diagetic (i.e. what seemed like the extras just doing a song and dance number because this is a musical being noticed by the main cast).

They also replaced the Libyan Terrorists storyline with Doc Brown having a failure in his antique radiation suit while handling plutonium and dying of acute radiation poisoning while Marty drives the Delorean over 88 mph in an attempt to get help (the alternate final timeline has him surviving it because he gets a Very Modern Radiation Suit vs the OG movie storyline where he buys a bulletproof vest to counteract the Libyan Terrorists shooting him). They also skipped over the "Hey, Chuck Berry, listen to this white boy inspire you to create an early classic Rock 'n' Roll song" nonsense.

But. The script. It was just the thinnest of scaffolds to go from moment to moment of, "Hey, do you remember this famous line from the OG movie? Here's another line that you probably remember! Oh, remember this moment? We're recreating it on stage, yay!"

Overall, aside from a few peak special effects moments, it all came off as a theme park show, and not a particularly good one. I salute all the actors for their efforts (except the guy who played Doc Brown, good grief, he ruined every scene he was in, including the post-intermission song which I literally couldn't understand because he insisted on doing a Humorous Voice), but I stand by my decision to be one of the few people in the theater who didn't give it a standing ovation.

[knickynoo]

HELLO, EVERYONE! I SAW THE BTTF MUSICAL YESTERDAY, AND AM READY TO POST SOME (SEMI) COHERENT THOUGHTS!

[Fair warning that some things here may spoil parts of the show.]

• First things first: It was so good. It was so, so, very good. Incredible show. I'd been hearing great things about the show since it first came out in London, and I've been listening to the music since it dropped, so I pretty much went in knowing I'd like it but it still managed to be even better than I thought.

• Just the setup of the theater itself and the ambiance prior to it starting was so cool. The way everything is lit blue and there's all the electrical zapping and humming. THE CONSTANT TICKING OF CLOCKS THAT FILLED THE THEATER. Nothing had even happened yet, and I was like, "This is such a good show."

• My one big cause for hesitation was Casey playing Marty. I know absolutely nothing about the guy, but Marty is just so dear to my heart, and MJF's energy and physicality isn't something easily captured. I had my doubts about seeing someone try to bring Marty to Broadway, but Casey walked onto the stage, called out, "Doc?" and I went, "Yeah, okay. There's Marty."

• For real, though, Casey was phenomenal as Marty. He had the vocal inflection down. The right amount of crackliness. Very good balance of cool kid and disoriented mess.

• Um. HUGH COLES?!? Talk about brilliant casting. I mean it when I say that he somehow seemed more George than George from the movie. The audience reacted with a sense of awe when he started speaking and moving around the stage. It was like Crispin Glover had been plucked straight from the film and injected with More Georgeness. When he did the laugh, the audience went nuts. His physical acting and the way he captured George's gestures perfectly was amazing to watch.

• As I'd expected, Musical Doc is ten times more chaotic and unhinged than Movie Doc. Roger Bart's comedic timing is impeccable. He earned himself frequent howling laughter from the audience from the moment he appeared on stage.

• His "Good thing I kept this radiation suit from my Manhattan Project days" line was a nice touch.

• "Despite my fear of heights, I was standing on my toilet," was such a gem of a line.

• THE DELOREAN. WE NEED TO TALK ABOUT THE DELOREAN. I had no idea how they were going to depict a car speeding to 88mph on a small stage, but THEY DID IT. Astounding. Honestly might be the coolest effects I've ever seen done on a stage. Also, I wasn't sure how I'd feel about the addition of it being voice-activated and talking, but it worked nicely!

• The musical obviously had to trim some parts of the movie—and even omit parts entirely—but it was done so well that you either didn't even notice or miss they were gone. The change from George being hit by a car to simply falling out of the tree was one of these changes. (Marty's under the tree trying to catch him, btw, which is how he ends up getting knocked out)

• I couldn't tell if this was an ad-lib from Casey, but when he was trying to get his pants back on in the Baines house scene, he started struggling a bit with the tangled suspenders that were wrapped around one of the legs of the jeans and muttered in frustration, "Why do I wear suspenders??" Very funny little moment.

• Great chemistry between Bart and Casey. The connection between Doc and Marty was THERE. The musical GOT IT RIGHT. So many hilarious moments between them in the form of completely unintelligible banter, where they're just talking over each other and having like...verbal tennis matches of nonsense. It's hard to describe in writing, but trust me, it was so good. It went something like this:

Doc: "Marty!"

Marty: "Doc!"

Both Simultaneously: *literal gibberish*

• There's a beautiful little addition to the scene when Marty shows up at Doc's house in 1955 and tries to convince him he's from the future. After Doc asks him to take him to this supposed "time machine" Marty goes, "Sure, hang on, I just gotta grab some flashlights." Then he goes straight to a cabinet and quickly retrieves two flashlights without a second thought, to which Doc is like, "How did you know they were in there??" Marty knows!! He knows exactly where the flashlights are because of course he does!!

• Perhaps one of the funniest moments of the show was right at the end of the "Future Boy" number, where the music stops and there's that breaking of the fourth wall moment. Doc and Marty look around in confusion at all the backup singers and dancers awkwardly standing around his house (one of the singers continues dancing/singing long after the others has stopped lol) and Doc wordlessly opens the door so they can all scurry out.

• Doc's dream of visiting the year 2020 where everything is perfect and there's "no disease" got some very loud laughter from the audience.

• Oh. Oh, the scene at Doc's house at night after the demonstration with the toy car. The way everything gets solemn for a moment, and Doc is doubting himself and worried about failing. Marty's lovely little speech about how everything will be okay because he believes in him. He trusts Doc. He knows it'll work and they'll get him home. The way Marty is the one looking after and taking care of Doc in that moment. When he asks, "Do you need anything, Doc? Can I make you a sandwich?" And then when he says softly, "Goodnight, Doc. Pleasant dreams."

THE MUSICAL GETS IT RIGHT. THE WARMTH. THE LOVE. THIS WAS SUCH A NICE ADDITION.

• "PUT YOUR MIND TO IT" !!!! I loved this sequence so, so much. Marty gets to strut his stuff while George flails around trying to imitate him. It was funny, the choreography was great, and we get such a nice Marty and George hug at the end! Why didn't they hug in the movie??

• The audience was super engaged and reactive through the whole show, but it noticeably ramped up in the latter part—starting with the night of the dance. There was such an excitement as people anticipated George swooping in to take down Biff and protect Lorraine. When Biff went down, the audience whooped and clapped and cheered so much.

• EARTH ANGEL! THE MOMENT GEORGE AND LORRAINE KISS. It was just like the movie. The music suddenly swelled, Marvin belted out, "The vision of your happiness", George and Lorraine kissed, and the audience. Lost. Their. Minds. It was as if people were experiencing the story for the first time—that's how strong the reaction was. So cool.

• Audience also went wild at the start of Johnny B. Goode. That was a neat sequence as well. Huge laughs at the "But your kids are gonna love it" line.

• The clocktower scene! Marty handing Doc the letter and saying, "I wrote you a thank-you note; don't read it until you get home!!" LOL. So many amazing effects going on in this one. For those of you who have seen the show, you probably remember Doc running up the clocktower stairs, right? Did the audience nearly die of laughter like they did at my showing? That was truly one of the top 5 funniest moments of the show, in my opinion. It had me giggling hours later once I was home. For those of you who have not seen the show, I don't think I can adequately put into words what was happening during this scene, but it was incredibly funny. It's good there wasn't any dialogue during it, because no one would have heard it with the way everyone was laughing.

• The fire trails on stage got quite the awed reaction. Super cool.

• The hug! We get our Doc and Marty hug at the end! I'm so glad they realized that moment was missing from the movie.

• I liked the shift from Marty waking up at home to him waking up on the bench in town instead. The "George McFly Day" part was a fun addition, and it flowed nicely into Marty's "Power of Love" performance.

• THE CAR FLEW. IT FLEW UP IN THE AIR AND THE WHEELS TURNED IN AND IT WENT OUT OVER THE AUDIENCE. HOW DID THEY DO THAT. IT DID A COMPLETE ROTATION UPSIDE DOWN WHILE CASEY AND BART WAVED TO PEOPLE. If anyone knows of any videos or articles explaining how they did things with the car, please let me know because I can't find anything and I would love to know how they did it! You couldn't see anything holding the car, and i'm so confused! The effects were so good.

• Love how, when the show ended, the giant screen on the stage just said, "Make like a tree and get outta here."

...I think those are all my thoughts. I was planning to write up a post with just a couple of bullet points of highlights and instead. Well. This is what you get from me, and if you've followed my blog for any length of time, you know that. But really, the show was so well done. I had a blast. I bought a pin that says, "Whoa, this is heavy" and I'm going to put it on my denim jacket :)

For those who are planning to see the musical, I hope this helps hype you up for it. And for those who can't see it, I hope this gives you a good look at what it's like!