#this tv show is from 2008

[panther-of-shadows]

Dude, it's been a couple of years since I looked for anything LotS related, and I can't believe my luck... my most sincere gratitude to all those people who continue to create content in the Legend of the Seeker fandom, especially under the Cara/Kahlan tag on AO3 🫶🏼

[vomittedsoap]

top twelve possibly autistic characters in movies/tv. I love them.

One of these is a murderous psychopath.... the answer may surprise you... (it's Mark Corrigan)

[also Dave from Mystic River and Dr. Nathan Bronfman from Human Nature and the guy from Nothing to Lose but I can't have so many Tim Robbins ones ripppp...he just plays that kind of character too well.]

[leahdrawsstuff]

my hyperfixation on Severance is a first for me bc I’m not used to hyperfixating on relevant contemporary media at all let alone one of the most popular currently airing American tv shows. what are you all doing in my house

[icewindandboringhorror]

Various images of things

[chickenbyday]

Yo if I start being insufferable about leverage do y'all want me to tag it so y'all can block it or am I chill to be insane

[dotthings]

.

[theunholyvirginemilyprentiss]

Awoop! Jumpscare!

I done been telling you guys that CME is just the official fanfiction of CM, this is literally the most AO3 development I’ve ever seen!

[theabstruseone]

I want to push back on the narrative that's already going around that the "Reality TV" boom was because of the writer's strike. It's straight-up anti-labor propaganda attempting to claim the strike didn't do anything.

And it's blatantly false.

1) Survivor premiered in 1997, Big Brother in 2000, Amazing Race in 2001, American Idol in 2002, and that's just the big-name network ones I can think of off the top of my head.

The last WGA strike was in 2007.

The reality TV boom was already in full gear long before the strike.

2) The 2007 WGA strike lasted from November 5, 2007, to February 12, 2008 - Three months and one week.

It takes a hell of a lot longer than that to develop, pre-produce, shoot, and edit a television show than that. No studios turned around a reality TV series in those 14 weeks.

This keeps being brought up because they want to dismiss efforts of the workers by claiming the studios can quickly pivot to something that doesn't need writers (bullshit) and blame what's seen by many as a blight on American entertainment, reality TV, on the WGA strike.

[st7rnioioss]

bestfriend!chris x inexperienced!reader lore fic? like pre smutty smut?

BSF!CHRIS x INEXPERIENCED!READER ₊˚⊹ ᰔ

˚𝜗𝜚 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬... fluff, swearing, light angst, mentions of blood, mentions of reader being insecure and bullying, kissing, p in v, protected sex (short description).

♡ ˖ ࣪ ◟ the summer of 2008

the sun was hot and blinding in the backyard of chris’s house, the sun hat you had on nicely covering you from any sunburns.

you were sitting in the sandpit, legs sprawled out to each side, rummaging around with a cup. your curious eyes kept track of how the sand would ooze out, landing in the spot right in front of you, creating a pyramid-shape of sand.

“hey, i want that one,” you heard chris say from next to you, messily reaching over to grab the cup from your hands.

you were confused at first, looking over at him playing with it after he’d snatched it right from your grip. a pout formed on your lips, furrowing your brows while reaching back for the cup.

“no, chris! it’s mine, i was using it first!” you whined, grabbing the cup from him. chris groaned, standing up to move in front of you, but you held the cup close to your chest, turning your body away from him.

“go away, chris! i had it!” you protested again, but suddenly he sat down, his small hands reaching the other edge of the blue cup.

“give it to me! it’s my turn! you’re done using it, let go of it!” he whined back, pulling on the plastic, but not strongly enough to take it from your grasp.

“chris, i said stop!” you cried, growing frustrated and annoyed by chris and how he didn’t seem to understand you were using it first, how he’d basically stolen it from you.

“i said let go!” he yelled with his childish voice, obviously mad from how his brows knitted together, seemingly not caring about the fat tears starting to prick in the corners of your eyes.

all that went down, until you let go, not wanting to fight further. but chris was still pulling hard, causing him to accidentally hit himself right in the face with the cup, the corner cutting the edge of his eyebrow right open.

“ow!” he yelled, immediately losing his grip of the cup, which you carefully reached for to take it back, all while curiously watching his face twist up in pain.

hot tears ran down his chubby cheeks, his small fingers running across the bleeding wound while he cried from the stinging and ache.

“i’m sorry, chris. i didn’t mean to do that..” you mumbled while looking at him with a perplexed and puzzled look, your wide and confused eyes stuck on his eyebrow that was trickling with blood.

♡ ˖ ࣪ ◟

later that day, chris was sitting in his living room with his brothers, all sucking on a popsicle while engrossed in some cartoon on the tv, a bandaid stuck to chris’s brow.

you had been out in your own backyard after your ran home when chris’s mom told you he was gonna cool down for a minute, picking some daisies for him, pinching them between your fingers.

the doorbell then rang in the sturniolo household, and chris’s mom opened it to find you standing there, shyly waving at her.

“hi, mary-lou,” you smiled, looking behind her to see if chris was sitting on the couch, which he was. “can i play with chris?”

you looked back up at her with big eyes, showing her the flowers you’d picked out.

“oh, sure sweetheart. he’s right in there,” his mom opened the door wider for you with a smile, noticing you seemed somewhat eager to get chris. hastily you made your way to the living room, waving at matt and nick.

“hi chris,” you smiled, crawling up into the couch to sit next to him, shuffling between him and nick.

chris glanced at you, before his eyes made their way to the flowers in your hand, looking somewhat curious.

“hi. why do you have flowers?” he questioned, tilting his head to the side, his brows furrowed. his lips and the corners of his mouth were red from the popsicle, clearly sticky from the sugar too.

“they’re for you. sorry about your eyebrow,” you held your hand out for him to take the flowers, somewhat squished and missing a few petals, but still—it’s the thought that counts.

chris looked down at them in his own hand when he grabbed them, before placing them on the coffee table in front of you to keep them safe.

he gave you a faint smile, before he looked at the lollipop that was melting down his tiny fingers.

“do you want a popsicle?” and that was all you needed to hear in order to know you were forgiven, smiling widely with a frantic nod, swinging your legs back and forth.

“mom, can i grab another popsicle?” he turned to look up at his mom, who was a little too busy with her camera, snapping a few pictures of the two of you.

♡ ˖ ࣪ ◟

sometime in 2017

“mom, you’re not being fair!” you yelled from your room with a pillow clutched to your chest, your mom standing on the other side of the door.

you had a frown stuck to your lips, your brows furrowed in frustration, as well as tears welling in your waterline. you looked down at the small bag you had packed to bring for a sleepover with those few friends you had, only for your mom to tell you that you couldn’t go.

“stop, sweetie. i don’t wanna hear any more. dinner is ready soon,” your mom said before making her way back downstairs, leaving you angry and upset in your room.

sitting on the edge of your bed, you could look straight out your window, facing chris’s. you could peek some movements in there, and that was sign enough to pick up your phone and call him.

♡ ˖ ࣪ ◟

“she was being so annoying! i literally planned it all out with my friends, and then she told me i couldn’t go!” you laid with your back to chris’s bed, staring up at the ceiling. chris was doing the same, laughing lightly along with you when you broke a laugh at your upset self. he turned to look at you, poking your shoulder.

“hey, but now we’re having a sleepover. it’ll be ten times more fun,” he smiled, and you couldn’t help but smile back even wider, nodding along with his words.

“yeah,” you giggled, shooting a quick glance at the bag from earlier thrown onto chris’s floor. then to ruin the moment, your phone started buzzing with an incoming call. you rolled your eyes, grabbing your phone only to see your moms contact name.

“fuck,” you groaned, forgotten all about the dinner your mom had prepared and how’d you snook out. it was like this most days and weekends. whenever your parents weren’t being fair (in your eyes), you would immediately be welcomed in chris’s room and vice versa, spending the night eating snacks and watching some stupid show you never got to finish because you always ended up talking over it.

it was nice to have someone to hold your back, always there for you.

♡ ˖ ࣪ ◟

winter, 2018

the tension in the room was thick—so thick you could basically cut through it and finally get out of the room you usually enjoyed staying it. but not right now, not at all.

you sat on the carpeted floor of chris’s bedroom, leaning against the bedframe, his bed occupied with chris himself and his girlfriend. you had this faint idea she had something against you, but you didn’t know what. did you presence annoy her? was this the typical “his girl best friend” situation? gosh, you needed to leave.

“i’m- i’m gonna leave, sorry.. uh- dinners ready soon, so..” you muttered awkwardly as you stood up, glancing at chris and the girl slung under his arm. chris’s eyes immediately flickered to you. “are you sure? i mean, we just- just started..” his words were quick, almost begging for you to stay.

“chris, let her leave if she wants to,” his girlfriend shot in, giving you a look that spoke nothing close to kindness. embarrassed, you nodded slowly, giving him a hesitant wave before you closed his door behind you.

♡ ˖ ࣪ ◟

summer, 2019

the girls at your school could be.. heinous to say the least. chris had gotten a good handful of friends throughout freshman year who he decided to introduce you to—and lucky, you quickly all got along. but the popularity of him and his friends rapidly grew, and so did the attention from girls.

hot tears pricked in the corners of your eyes, sniffling and trying your best not to cry in the empty bathroom. you were anxiously bouncing your leg, staring down at your fingers while fiddling and fidgeting with them. you just couldn’t get those girls words out of your head.

“they’re definitely more than friends, but i don’t get it. she’s so weird.”

“you could never be good enough for chris, are you kidding?”

“chris would never go for a girl like her, have you seen her? they’re definitely not dating, he’d be dumb to.”

no one understood you were just friends, though maybe, just maybe, you wanted more than that. so with that feeling in your gut already, their words only made you feel ten times more shitty. you truly believed chris would never see you as more than a friend. i mean, at least he was single now, right?

you wanted to ask him out, you really did. but when most days were spent like this, crying and second guessing yourself, was it really worth it? to ruin a perfect and life long friendship?

and were you really that dumb? would chris ever like you as more than a friend? maybe they were right, you weren’t pretty enough.

all those thoughts kept running through your mind until the bell rang, and you hastily stood up, grabbing your bag and making your way out of the stall. quickly, you took a look at yourself in the mirror, attempting to wipe away the tears for your eyes and the few that had escaped to your cheek.

…

“what- justin? are you serious? he’s like, super annoying,” chris gasped, nearly losing grasp of the burger in his hand. you blushed, shrugging while avoiding chris’s eyes, adverting your eyes down at your fries instead. all this talk about chris and whether you were dating him or not lead to you trying to push it away—to find someone else to think about.

chris’s stomach did a weird flip when you said you had a secret crush on a guy, something twisted with jealousy. but he’d never admit it, not to anyone. his brows were furrowed, his head tilted slightly to the side while he stared at you, still struck.

“i dunno.. he’s kinda sweet. and his summer tan is really nice.” you mumbled, stuffing a few more fries into your mouth, looking up at chris. he raised his brows with a smirk, lightly chucking. “you’ve never talked to him, have you?”

your cheeks reddened, but you broke into a giggle along with chris, shaking your head from side to side before you breathlessly spoke up.

“no.. not really.”

♡ ˖ ࣪ ◟

fall, 2019

“i don’t know- i just.. i feel weird. everyone thinks we’re dating. don’t you think so? that it’s a little weird?” you questioned, turning to look at chris.

it was one of the usual friday’s. chris had finished practice earlier, just out the shower, and now sitting next to you in bed. just like normally, a movie was playing, but you had both forgotten about it.

he felt a weird twinge of feelings raise in his stomach at your words, suddenly feeling a little hot and quizzical—wasn’t this the perfect time to tell you? to pull you in for a kiss? no. there’s never be a perfect time, and he knew.

“i- i don’t know. a little?” his words were hesitant, keeping his eyes on the screen in front of you, acting interested. “but i mean.. we’re basically together all the time, so.. i-i kinda get it.”

your ears turning red and scorching when he spoke, as well as your cheeks. he kind of gets it? what was that supposed to mean?

all you could do was nod, giving his face a quick glance, flickering to his lips before a the tiniest, faintest smile pulled on the corners of your lips. “yeah.. makes sense.” your head leaned onto his shoulder, shuffling closer to him.

♡ ˖ ࣪ ◟

spring, 2022

your eyes were avoiding chris’s, mindlessly searching around the café you were sitting in, chris doing the same. your fingers were laced together with his over the table, awkwardly waiting for the coffee you’d just ordered a few minutes ago.

your smudged lips couldn’t help but curl into a smile, your face tinted a little pink—but not as much as his. chris was trying everything against his will to pull you out of the, actually really nice café, and kiss you senseless, just liked he’d done fifteen minutes ago in his car. “um, so.. d-do you think this is a good?” his free hand turned the menu to you, pointing at the name of a sandwich.

your eyes dipped to the card in front of you, reading over the ingredients. “yeah, yeah it does. do you wanna get it? we could share it.”

all the times you’d gone out with chris for lunch never felt like this. but it made sense. he wasn’t just your best friend anymore. this time it actually had a meaning—he’d asked you out on a date.

he nodded, making eye contact with you for the first time since you had sat in his car, blinking a couple times, but keeping his eyes on yours. “that sounds good.. yeah.” swiftly, he leaned closer to leave a loving but soft kiss to your cheek.

you laughed, shoving him off when he continued, finally feeling that wall of awkwardness fall. “chris, stop. you keep doing that,” you continued giggling, finally succeeding in pushing him away. “i’m just making up for all the time i wasted not doing that,” he murmured with a wide, lovestruck smile, his free hand cupping the side of your face to kiss you properly, definitely making a few heads turn.

♡ ˖ ࣪ ◟

february 14th, valentine’s day, 2025

your face was flushed pink, a small layer of sweat beading across your forehead and bare chest. the marks chris had left earlier on your neck and collarbone matched the smudged but red color on your lips—which was now transferred to his chest, burgundy imprints of your lips pressed to his skin.

“gosh, i love you.. so much, you have no idea angel,” chris’s arms were tightly wrapped around you, one draped under your waist, the other one around the back of your neck while he jerked his hips forward, holding up close. chris’s lips occasionally brushed against yours, the moans you both let one mixing together in a harmony.

you hadn’t planned on having some cliché valentine’s day plans together, especially the red petals and balloons on the bed you had seen and laughed at on the internet. sure, you went out earlier to enjoy the friday, but neither of you expected it to turn into this.. okay lie, you both definitely expected this, but neither of you vocalized it.

now you had your legs wrapped around his waist like he had instructed you to do. but to your pleasure, you dug your heels into his lower back with every thrust, pushing him deeper. “ah, chris, i- i love you too.. so good chris,” a whimper left your maroon, parted lips, before they collided with his.

your sweet noises and praise sent a twinge of fire down his spine, groaning loudly into the kiss when yours fingers pulled him closer by his hair. “can’t- can’t believe i wasted more than half my fucking life without you like this.. i- gosh, i’m so crazy for you,” his words sent electricity through your veins, arching your back to let his chest press to yours with a loud cry of his name.

in the end, you knew deep down it was all worth the wait. your friendship had bloomed into something much more beautiful, much more than just friends.

more bsf!chris x inexperienced!reader here!

˚𝜗𝜚 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬... first part is based on a true story. i accidentally cracked a girls brow up, sorry! anyway, it’s valentine’s day so i felt like adding some smut.. just because. sorry😇🤍

۶ৎ taglist: @jetaimevous @missmimii @mattscoquette @pearlzier @witchofthehour @elizasturn @loveparqdise @delilahsturniolo @phone4pills @sturnsmia @hearts4werka @cayleeuhithinknott @strnilolover @sturnvxz @lovergirl4gracieabrams @ifwdominicfike @toftomgmf @emely9274 @sturnioloangell @blushsturns @sierrraaaaxz @slut4chris888 @marrykisskilled @sophand4n4 @sturnihoelooo @unknvhx @chrisslut04 @sturniolossss @slvtf0rchr1s @blahbel668 @starkeysturniolo @miolos @user1smvtysturniolo @lizzyzzn @sturnslutz @decimatedxdreams @chrissturnioloswife88 @sturn777 @sturniolonationsblog @frankoceanfanpage @priscillaog @courta13 @sweetrelieef @loverboysturn @sturns-mermaid @cutseylady @sofieeeeex @sofia-is-a-sturniolo-triplet-fan @mattsturnii @conspiracy-ash

❛❛ © 𝐒𝐓𝟕𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐎𝐈𝐎𝐒𝐒 𝐞𝐬𝐭. 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑 ❜❜

[starkwlkr]

Omfg I need like early on in the relationship between Hugh and marvel!reader where their relationship isn’t public and their papparazzi of them on set together coz they’re visiting eachother and everyone’s thinking xmen X mcu when in reality it’s just them together dating

no spoilers! | hugh jackman

an: ok since their first son was born in 2000 (it’s canon idk what date but it’s canon now lol) and the mcu started in 2008 I’m going to change a few things JUST TINY THINGS like the mcu being in development early on and marvel actress!reader being casted in the early 2000s. does that make sense?? idk this is fanfiction

2005

Getting a call from Marvel was something you never expected. Like many people, you grew up reading the comics and watching the tv shows. But now you had the chance of a lifetime. You were being offered a role in the first movie in the Marvel cinematic universe.

After having a meeting with the marvel executives and your manager, you were asked to keep the news of your casting a secret. The media was already wondering who was going to portray what heroes on the big screen and your name was being thrown around.

While your relationship was still a secret, you often visited Hugh on set of X-Men with Alex and Reese. You tried to keep your little family from the media as much a possible. You would watch Hugh get into his costume and do his stunts. You were always amazed at how much fun it would be to portray a superhero and now you were finally going to be able to.

A few months after you met with Marvel, you found out you were pregnant with your third baby. A girl. Thankfully you weren’t set to film yet since the film was still in development. When it was finally time to film ‘Iron Man’, you were more than ready. Your kids were a bit older so they finally got to watch you beat up bad guys like their dad did.

It was during the filming of ‘Iron Man 2’ when your secret was finally revealed to the world. You didn’t really know how it even happened . . . Your guess was that paparazzi somehow snuck in. Hugh was always careful when visiting you on set. Rumors were already circulating on the internet about a potential X-Men and Avengers team up. It didn’t help that Hugh was sporting his signature Wolverine hair when he visited the set. At least the kids weren’t with you.

“You look much better than me,” Hugh looked at your costume. He couldn’t stop staring, it was starting to make you weak in the knees. “at least you get comfortable suits. Remember the black suits from X-Men? The most uncomfortable shit ever.”

“The kids thought you looked cool.” You reminded him.

“Okay, that makes me feel better.”

As you and Hugh talked, some paparazzi were secretly taking photos. All they could think about was how well they were going to get paid for the exclusive photos. The X-Men joining the mcu? That was big news!

When the photos were published on every magazine, you couldn’t help but laugh. What a way to reveal your relationship. You definitely didn’t want to share the news this way, but you also didn’t want to lose your job.

“Maybe in a few years it’ll come true. You, me, X-Men and the Avengers.” He told you, giving you your morning coffee. The kids were still sleeping so you and Hugh took advantage of the quiet morning. You set the magazine down on the table and drank the coffee.

“It would be nice. Imagine what the kids will think. Mom and dad beating up the bad guys together,” you smiled at him. He took the opportunity to give you a kiss. As he pulled away, you whispered to him. “or it could be me kicking the wolverine’s ass.”

Your characters wouldn’t share the screen until 2024 when Deadpool & Wolverine premiered. Your kids were more than excited to see their parents fighting together.

@kellyxo1 @barnes70stark @ru-kru @flyestvenustrap @evasmlp

[ageofthegeekdotcon]

DEAN DEVLIN IF YOU CAN HEAR US, PLEASE SAVE US DEAN DEVLIN☹️☹️!!

("Save us" meaning stick more pairs of glasses on Christian Kane's face)

Bring back my wife (Eliot's glasses) from the war (tv continuity erasure)

[whorekneecentral]

Tis' The Season

Lewis Hamilton x Fem!Reader

Warnings: old friends reappear, flashbacks in italics, complicated relationships, expensive gifts cause it's lew lew duh, uses roscoe as an in, brocedes mention, alcohol and the consumption of, sexual tension, oral (f!receiving), degrading, the use of 'slut' in a sexual context, penetrative sex (p in v), choking, creampie, soft moments at be end.

Word Count: 2,668

Author's Note: love me some lew lew and he gives fuckboy turned lover boy so here we areeeeee

merry smutmas series

--

An old friend finds his way to your front door and no matter how much you try to get rid of him, you can’t. 

A knock on the door startles you as you hung the ornament on your Christmas tree. You shout that you're coming, grabbing your wallet out of your purse, as you jog to your front door. You assumed it was your take-out delivery guy and that's not who it was when you opened the door.

The man smiles at you, bags in hand and puppy between his legs. "Hi beautiful," Lewis smiles at you, bundled up in his winter coat.

You huff, looking at him. "Hi Lewis.. what are you doing here?"

He lifts the bags, showing you. "Happy holidays, y/n. I come bearing gifts."

"Seriously?" You hold back the urge to roll your eyes, Roscoe barks and gets your attention, you crouch down to pat his side, the dog leaning into your hand before waddling his way into the house. Lewis doesn't stop him, smiling at you.

"Are you gonna let me in, love? Roscoe is already inside, it'd be rude to let me freeze out here."

You don't have the heart to let them freeze, especially since you know how Roscoe loves him so much.

You let Lewis in, the man takes his shoes off by the door and follows you down the hallway to the living room. Roscoe had already made himself comfortable, shaking off the cold, and lying down by the fireplace. Despite you and Lewis not talking for years, you had left Roscoe's dog bed by the fireplace, as it had always been, picking it up to clean and setting it back in its spot.

Lewis sets the bags on the coffee table, hanging his coat off the arm rest of your couch. "I didn't know if you still live here."

"Well now that you do, I'll have to move, won't I?"

He chuckles, smiling to himself - nice to see your sense of humour has remained.

"Go on, open 'em." He nods towards the gifts on the table. You were adjusting an ornament on the tree, "I don't want it, Lewis."

"Oh hush, don't be annoying, y/n. Just open it."

You rolled your eyes, sitting across from him on the couch and picking up the first bag, the shape was a give away. Carefully, you pulled the bottle of wine out of the bag, some expensive French wine that you two had once upon a time when you took a trip to France. You read the label, setting it down on the table gently.

"Expensive," you eye him and he smiles. "Open the other one." He says quietly, watching as you tear the wrapping paper.

You freeze, the orange box staring back at you, the signature black and white ribbon around the box; Hermes Paris written across the top.

"Lewis.." You look at the man and he nods, waiting for you to go on. You carefully undo the ribbon, taking the lid off of the box. There's clearly a bag in the box, wrapped in a dust bag.

You feel underdressed and dirty, as if you should have showered before opening such a gift. You take the purse out of the dust bag, a Birkin in Bougainvillea - the same shade you had seen so many years ago.

His arm rested over your shoulders, the two of you cuddled on the couch as Lewis flipped through the tv channels. Formula One had wrapped up for the 2008 season and your dearest friend Lewis was now a Formula One world champion.

You, on the other hand, were still in med school.

Lewis had come home for the holidays, a yearly tradition of trashy Christmas movies and Chinese take out had commenced, Lewis picking out something for you two to watch as you flipped through the magazine.

"This one," you tell him, nudging him with your shoulder. "I want this one." You show him the bright pink Birkin bag - in the shade Bougainvillea. It's unrealistically, shockingly pink but it was the newest colour in the collection and you wanted it.

"I'm gonna get this for myself when I finish med school and I'm a rich surgeon."

Lewis smiles, "I'll get it for you, love. No need to wait so long, consider it your med school graduation gift." He kisses your head.

They don't make this colour anymore, you're sure it must have cost Lewis a fortune. "How did you even.. they don't make this colour anymore." You examined the bag, setting it back into the dust bag carefully.

"I know people, y/n."

You hum, "it's too much."

"It's your gift, y/n. I promised you, didn't I?"

You smiled, nodding as you carefully set the bag back into the box. "Thank you Lew, really."

The man smiles, it's been years since he's heard you call him Lewis. You two had a falling out a while back, right after his first championship win with Mercedes - you didn't like the way he treated you, pushed you off to the side as if you hadn't been there for him through it all. Lewis was and still is career driven, it has and will always take first priority to him but it ruined your friendship and it had ruined the same special bond he had with Nico.

In this moment, you let all that go.

The doorbell rings, intruding on your thoughts. "Expecting someone?" Lewis asks, glancing at you as you set the Hermes box on the coffee table.

"No.. oh wait yeah, the take out guy." You say, getting up. Lewis waves you off, getting up and fishes his wallet out of his pocket. "I'm not a broke med student anymore, Lewis. I can afford to pay for dinner."

"As can I, so hush." He says, making his way down the foyer to the front door, paying the man.

You can hear bits and pieces of their hushed conversation, the man thanks him before the door shuts.

The bags are taken to the kitchen and you see him looking around, clearly looking for something. You decide to put him out of his misery, getting up to help him look for plates. Lewis stops, leaning on the counter as he watches you get the dishes out of the cupboard.

"I'm sorry." He says, his words catching you off guard.

Your brows furrow, looking at him. "What for?"

"For everything. What happened in the past… That was between us and I know that it was my fault, and I shouldn't have said what I said, but I truly am sorry. You don't have to forgive me, but I would just like to start over if you give me the chance."

"Okay," you nod, setting the plates on the table.

"Okay."

He joined you at the table, the two of you sitting quietly and eating dinner like you've done many times over the years. Tonight was different though, there was a sense of relief in the air as if this tension had been lifted off your shoulders after so many years. The quiet sound of cutlery clinking against the dishes and Roscoe's snores coming from the fireplace filled the house.

At some point after dinner, you were putting the dishes in the sink and Lewis asked if he should open a bottle of wine that he brought. You shrug, reaching into the cabinet to get the glasses while Lewis pulls the cork out of the bottle before filling the glasses half way.

The house is quiet as the two of you sit on the couch, Lewis handing you a glass of wine. It's a comfortable silence, Lewis takes a sip of his wine as he looks over at you; he can't help but notice how you've aged beautifully over the years, not in a you look old sort of way but the maturity you've come into seems to suit you perfectly.

Next to him, you seem to make the same realization but with him. Lewis what is a baby faced, starting to find himself boy when you two had you falling out. Now he was grown, and even more handsome than the day you had walked away from him.

You take the first step, setting the glass down on the coffee table before reaching for Lewis's glass, setting it with yours.

The tension in the room is thick enough to cut with a knife, the two of you sitting there in silence, inching closer and closer with each passing second until he finally closes the gap between the two of you.

Lewis's hands find your hips, the man pulling you onto his lap. You settle against him as if you had always been there. His lips trail down your neck, hands slipping under your shirt.

"No," you whispered, your hands wrapping around his wrists. Lewis looked at you confused, wondering if he had done something wrong.

"What?"

"We can't do this here."

"Why not?" He asks and you nod towards Roscoe, the dog still fast asleep by the fireplace.

Lewis can't help but laugh, his forehead pressing to your shoulder. "Love, he's asleep. It's fine."

"Oh my god," you smacked his shoulder, "that doesn't mean we're gonna fuck in front of him."

He raises an eyebrow, "we're gonna fuck?"

"Don't be a fuckboy, Lew." The man ignored your words, his arms wrapping around you, picking you up with ease, carrying you down the hallway to your bedroom. Despite the years he hadn't spent there, nothing's changed.

Lewis drops you on the bed and you propped yourself up, watching him get undressed before he sits next to you, his hand cups your jaw and you smile at him. “Hi,” you whisper. 

“Hi,” he smiles at you, leaning down to kiss your nose and you scrunch it in response. “You’re cheeky.” 

“You love it,” he says, kissing your nose again. 

Lewis leans down a bit more and kisses you but you pull away, sliding off the bed. “We can't.” You tell him, about to walk away but he grabs your hips, pulling you to stand between his legs. 

Your hands rest on his shoulders, sliding up to rest on his jaw. His beard tickles the palm of your hand as you look at him. Lewis doesn't have to say anything and all the worries seem to slip away in the moment, it was as if you hadn't spent a single day apart.

The man pulls you down on top of him, his hands sliding down your back to rest on your waist as you sit yourself on his lap. 

“We-” you go to remind him once more but he cuts you off with a kiss. Lewis flips the two of you over, letting you lay on your back when he gets off the bed, he pulls you to the edge of the bed. 

Your eyes fixed on the man between your legs, looking at him in awe. Something about Lewis always fascinated you; you could never put your finger on it but he was always an object of fascination, of desire.

He can feel your eyes on him, he reaches for the lace you’re wrapped up in under your clothes and tugs it down your legs, letting it fall to the floor. He shifts to sit on his knees between your legs, leaving a trail of kisses as he works his way up to your cunt.

Your eyes meet his, he knows you’re looking; he wants you to look at him.

Your hips buck when you feel his tongue against your clit, your hand gripping on his hair.

Lewis knew you like the back of his hand, gripping your thighs to keep them in place as his tongue lapped your clit. Your hips buck, your way of saying you want more and Lewis gives in.

Two fingers pushing into you, Lewis glances up to see your head tossed back onto the pillows, eyes fluttering shut and your free hand groping your tit.

Between his fingers and his tongue, your orgasm was teetering on the edge; he knew that much. Lewis pulls his hands away, the sticky fingers on your thighs. A whimper leaves your lips at the loss of fullness.

Your chest heaving, your grip on his hair loosening now that you’re right on the edge, you’re almost there and he just has to - he’s stopped. 

“Why'd you stop?” You sit up, a pout on your lips when you look at the man between your legs. 

“Shush, you love hanging on the edge,” Lewis tells you with a smile, unbuttoning his pants. 

He lines himself up with you, and Lewis lets you take him little by little, pulling out almost all the way each time before finally pushing into you all the way. He's in charge and you both know it, letting him set the pace; slow and steady and it was driving you insane.

You needed him.

You didn’t want slow, you wanted it hard and messy, the type of fuck where you couldn’t keep your hands off each other.

“Lew, come on.” Your hand reaches to rest on his hand that’s on your hip. “Need more.”

“Do you?” He hums, moving a little faster.

You know giving him attitude won’t help but you can’t help but roll your eyes, “more than that.”

“Needy,” he calls, pulling you closer by your legs.

Finally, you get what you want, Lewis’s hips hitting the back of your thighs, he leans over you and your arms are pinned about your head, both legs up on his shoulders now. The angle was enough to push you over the edge but he didn’t care.

“Lew please-” you tried to wiggle your hands loose but he didn’t budge. 

“What’s wrong baby?” he asks, mockingly, “isn't this what you wanted?” 

“It is, but-” your head tosses back, back arched when he hits the spot he was looking for. 

“Oh,” he coos, smiling at you. “Is my baby so fucked out, she can’t even tell me what she wants?” His thrusts are sloppy, you knew he was just as close as you were. 

“Gonna cum-” you barely get out between strangled moans. Lewis finally lets go of your wrists and one of his hands has wrapped around your throat.

“C’mon sweetheart, want you to cum for me.” He says, knowing it won't be long more.

He watches as your eyes flutter shut and he reaches for you with his other hand, holding your jaw and pulling you up a little, your elbows holding up the weight of your body.

“Look at me when you cum.”

You’re forcing yourself to keep your eyes open, focusing on him. A few more sloppy thrusts and between that and his fingers, you’re over the edge.  He kisses you, muffling the noise you were making. The wetness wrapping around his cock, and with a few sloppy thrusts, Lewis follows behind you. 

The two of you are still tangled together, laying in bed next to each other. Lewis looks over at you, you look back at him with a sleepy smile on your face.

"Should I.."

"Should you.." you trailed off, waiting to hear what he says. Lewis shrugs, "should I go home?"

You take a moment to think, not about kicking him out - that was never an option but perhaps the things that lead you here.

There's a noise from outside the door, a sort of scratching. Seems like Roscoe had woken up and came looking for you two. Lewis takes the hint, getting up to open the door for the dog. You put on your shirt and your panties and Lewis lets Roscoe in, the dog jumping up on the bed with some assistance from his dad.

Lewis gets under the covers with you, Roscoe settled at the edge of the bed. You look over at Lewis, his hand resting on yours.

"I think you should." You tell him quietly and Lewis's brows furrow, a pout forming on his lips. "I should?" He asks.

You nod, "you should stay."

Lewis lets out a soft sigh, smiling. His hand squeezes yours gently. "I'll stay."

---

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[thatrickmcginnis]

THEY MIGHT BE GIANTS Toronto 1990

John Flansburgh and John Linnell - known as "the Johns" or "the Two Johns" (a joke only '80s alt-rock nerds will still get) - met in high school in Massachusetts but formed They Might Be Giants in 1981, when they moved into the same apartment building in Brooklyn after attending different colleges. They built up a following playing clubs in the NYC area, a duo playing accordion, saxophone and guitar backed by a drum machine or taped backing tracks. They had just emerged from what we used to call the indie circuit and released their third album, Flood, on Elektra Records in 1990, when I was assigned to photograph them for the cover of NOW, the big alt-weekly in the city.

They Might Be Giants had proved to be deft hands at self-marketing during their years as an indie acts, putting on a theatrical stage show in NY clubs and running Dial-A-Song on an answering machine starting in 1985. Fans could call a number (718-387–6962) and hear demos or incomplete songs from Flansburgh and Linnell. More than a gimmick, it helped establish the band's identity as creative but unpretentious, produced a compilation album and was still in service until 2008 when they had to retire it and the number. (It was revived in 2015 as a toll-free number, a website and radio network.) The band have written themes for TV shows like Malcolm in the Middle, songs for musicals and won Grammys for their children's albums.

It was still early in my time at NOW magazine when I got the assignment to photograph They Might Be Giants for a cover story, which meant both colour slide and black and white. I have no memory at all of where these photos were taken - probably a hotel room downtown - but I know I brought my single Metz flash on a light stand shooting into an umbrella, and used my Nikon F3. NOW covers were shot to a rigorous formula at this time - the subject squeezed into at most two-thirds of a vertical frame with space at one side and the top for the logo and cover type. It was restrictive and tiresome, but we had just innovated slightly by convincing the paper to drop their unofficial (and baffling) ban on white backgrounds.

I had obviously found the white wall in whatever space where this shoot took place, and got the band to tuck themselves into my frame. Flansburgh and Linnell were more than cooperative - they seemed to sense what I needed to convey the quirky energy of the band, and provided me with more than enough material for the cover layout - a big deal since I still felt very much on probation at NOW at the time. This is the first time these photos have been published since the story ran almost 35 years ago.

[doyoulikethissong-poll]

The Castells - Some Enchanted Evening 1963

"Some Enchanted Evening" is a show tune from the 1949 Rodgers and Hammerstein musical South Pacific. The song is a three-verse solo for the leading male character, Emile, in which he describes first seeing a stranger, knowing that he will see her again, and dreaming of her laughter. In the original Broadway production, "Some Enchanted Evening" was sung by former Metropolitan Opera star Ezio Pinza. Pinza won the Tony Award for Best Actor in 1950 for this role, and the song made him a favorite with audiences and listeners who normally did not attend or listen to opera. In the 2001 London revival of the show, Philip Quast won an Olivier Award for Best Actor for his role as Emile, and seven years later, international opera singer Paulo Szot won a Tony for his portrayal in the 2008 New York revival.

The Castells were a male vocal quartet from Santa Rosa, California, best remembered for their hits "Sacred" (number 20 on the Billboard chart in 1961) and "So This Is Love" (number 21 in 1962). Their sound blended light rock with elements of collegiate vocal harmony and jazz.

Their version of "Some Enchanted Evening" was used twice in the first episode of the Fallout tv series; at Lucy's wedding dance and during the raider massacre in Vault 33. It is also included on the official Amazon Music playlist "Music from Fallout" promoting the series.

"Some Enchanted Evening"received a total of 62,4% yes votes!

[andrandiriel]

I was recently talking to my dad, who was in high school and university when MASH was first airing, about how queer this show is. He was a little surprised at some of the examples I gave, but not because he never saw it as queer in the first place. More that it's been so many years that he'd kind of assumed he was remembering it as gayer than it really was. But even in the 70s, he saw what was there. At the very least he saw right through the jokes Hawkeye was making about himself - straight men might joke about their friends being queer, but they don't joke that way about themselves over and over and over. Viewers certainly had the option to dismiss almost all of the queerness of this show as just a gag, but if you were comfortable with what it was telling you, it was telling you very clearly, even then.

you know we’re all rational adults: there’s no way we all hallucinated gay mash narrative out of nothing

[twomiddlefingersforthehaters]

Naruto calling Sasuke a ikemen イケメン which basically means a hot guy; good -looking guy; 'cool guy' as in a pretty or attractive guy. Naruto never fails to compliment Sasuke's looks, as well as his skills (lol).

It's a slang shorthand for イケテル面, where; イケテル => another slang for "cool", 面 => another slangish way to say "face". In addition to that, they crossed the word 面 (pronounced as men) with English word "men" to specifically imply to a male person. "イケてる面", something like "The face being in" or something like that.

Etymology: IKEteru(good-looking, cool) + MENs(Japanese English for man/men)

The term イケメン mainly refer to the beauty of a man's face, but I think it also represents a well-formed face that may be masculine, feminine, or androgynous. And recently, Japanese people also say イケメン to kind and nice guy sometimes.

e. g: あなたの日本語、イケメンやなぁ

Romaji: anata no nihongo, ikemen ya nā

Complimenting the person's Japanese by using イケメン " your japanese is good".

I didn't know there was an interesting history behind the term Ikemen, and it was used in the gay community🥲

"G-men"- First published in 1995, ceased publication in 2016

It is not widely known that the word "ikemen" originated from gay people. It's well known that it became popular as a gyaru term around 2000 (Egg is a style magazine for Gyaru fashion), but it seems to have already been used in the gay community around 1990.

After that, the word ikemen became widely recognized and was included in the book "Gendaiyogo no Kisochishiki (Encyclopedia of Contemporary Words) ( Tokyo: Jiyukokuminsha, 1996 )" published in 2000. Furthermore, the word was included in the sixth edition of the Kōjien dictionary released in 2008 , indicating that it had become commonly used.

In 2009, topics related to "ikemen" became popular, and the word won the grand prize in the "ネット流行語大賞= Internet Buzzword Awards" held by the video distribution service ニコニコ動画 = Niconico Video. One of the popular expressions that year was "*ただしイケメンに限る= Tadashi ikemen ni kagiru= Only if you are a cool handsome guy/ unless you are handsome/ Limited to a cute guy," which shows how widespread the concept of ikemen had become.

Nowadays, "ikemen" are not just about good looks, but are also discussed in various other ways. For example, "雰囲気イケメン = fuinki ikemen= handsome-vibe (guy)" refers to a man who is not necessarily handsome in appearance, but who is attractive due to his fashion sense and aura. On the other hand, there is also the expression "心がイケメン =Kokoro ga ikemen", It used to describe someone who is attractive because of their kind, caring, or good-hearted nature. This term emphasizes inner beauty and personality traits rather than outward appearance.

Many TV dramas have also aired with the theme of "Ikemen." In 2000, "Ike ike ikemen!!" started, followed by "For You in Full Blossom - Ikemen Paradise" in 2007.

Well, for the time being, it seems to be a word that has been used for the past 30 years or so, mainly from the Heisei era.