#thomas webb imagine

[eymie]

PHOTOGRAPHER !

pairing: thomas webb x fem!reader

warnings: smut, nudes?? kinda, alcohol, dry humping, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), thats it i think

summary: you were a new york photoprapher and thomas lived in your apartment. and after one frustrating night you invite him into your room.

a/n: WHERE. IS. THE. MF. CALLUM. TURNER. FICS. i’ve been on this game since fantastic beasts. (ive found a few scrumptious callum fics and yk who u r @willyoubemycherryy) also i have not written in a hot minute and none of you expected this.

You lived on the story above Thomas. Not that you ever really noticed him at first, you were relatively new in the complex too. Sometimes you’d hear him having a conversation on the stairs with the old man from 2B. Mix of words you didn’t bother to put together.

Well, you didn’t care until you saw him for the first time. The old man from 2B liked to talk a lot, often chatting you up when you got home from work. Sometimes bringing up Thomas which you didn’t care for.

"He could use a nice girl like you.”

To which you would’ve scoffed. You heard someone running down the stairs, to which you met eye contact with Thomas. Wavy brown hair, pink cheeks, glasses that sort of turned you on.

The real New York type of guy, to be honest, your type of guy. His lips parted as he looked at you, a small nod and than sliding past you.

“Where you going Thomas,” He called out, to which Thomas turned around laughing.

“I gotta go, meeting up with Mimi.” Thomas turned on his heels to leave until he was stopped again by the man.

“I want you to meet me friend.” The man gestured to you, Thomas smiling at you in return.

“No, it’s alright. I have to get going.” You smiled back, walking to the door where Thomas stood. You brushed past him, your clothes brushing his own.

“Where?” Thomas asked, furrowing his brows.

“Around, I’m a photographer.”

That’s how it started. After that, coincidentally you ran into Thomas a lot more after that. Usually alone, and to that he’d usually greet you and say hi. After a specifically draining day, a frustrating one at that, he ran into you in the front door.

He rubbed his eyes, apologizing and then he started talking. Going off about something you honestly didn’t care much about. You liked hearing him talk. You didn’t mean to say it, but you did.

“Wanna talk about it? In my room.” It came out like word vomit, immediately embarrassed. You watched his eyes for a second, not even processing his nod.

You grabbed his hands pulling him up to your apartment, dragging him close behind you. His hand was big compared to yours, you weren’t surprised you had already noticed he was a lot taller than you.

Your anxiety kicked in when you struggled to unlock the door. Him peering over your neck, watching you struggle with your keys. You felt his lips brush your neck slightly, your panties dampening.

You flung your door open a little too excited, a small laugh leaving his lips. He followed you in, to which you immediately grabbed your alcohol off the shelf.

When you turned around, Thomas caught you off-guard, pressing his lips to yours. It was quick, aggressive a bit, which you assumed was probably from nerves. He was quick to shake his head and apologize.

"Shit, I'm sorry." He mumbles, looking down at his shoes. You examine his face, his expression. You hand him the full bottle of alcohol off your counter, to which he takes from you with ease. "Thanks--"

You pull him back down, pressing your lips harder to his than he had before. You threaded your fingers through his hair, slightly tugging on it making him groan into the kiss. He still held the bottle in his hand, but his free hand slid to your waist.

He had you pressed against your counter, nowhere to move. His tongue slid over your bottom lips, you parted your lips allowing him to slip it in. Pressing and sliding against your own making you moan softly into the kiss.

Thomas pulled away, taking a sip of the alcohol, furrowing his brows at the taste. He placed it back on the counter beside you, who was breathless and needy.

He tilted your chin back up, pulling you back into another heated kiss. Both hands now free, groping whatever he could. You could taste the alcohol on his tongue, his kiss was intoxicating.

His hand slid up your skirt, tracing the apex of your thighs. His fingers slowly slide up to the wet patch of your panties. “Fuck, you’re soaked.”

"Thomas," You gasp, pulling away from the kiss. He trails down your jawline and neck, leaving soft wet kisses. He hums into your skin, hands pulling your waist closer to his body. "Wait--"

"What?" He was barely audible, too busy tainting your skin with his marks which you would certainly cover up the next day.

"l don’t know," You gasp, his tongue running over the mark he had just left. You feel him smile into your skin, a small laugh leaving his lips. His fingers sliding over your panties, pressing onto your clothed clit.

"Do you want me to stop?" He pulls away looking at your flustered face. His hand pulling away from the apex of your thighs, sliding up your waist and under your shirt.

“No,” You were too quick to answer, a small laugh leaving his lips. The way Thomas kissed you felt urgent, like he needed you now and he could’ve wait. And if you knew any better you would’ve known why.

You walked backwards to your bedroom, never breaking the hungry kiss. His hands were large, pulling at your waist. Your hand pulled back to push the door open further, backing into your small room. He turned you, pushing you against the white door, shutting it with your body weight.

You let out a soft moan as his knee slotted between your thighs, pressing into your clothed his. His hands travelled down to your hip, pulling your cunt harder onto his rough pants.

“Look at you, getting off on my thigh.” You whined at his words, a wet patch forming on the fabric of his pants.

“Thomas, I want you—“

“I know,” He mumbles against your lips. Thomas was usually quick when it came to sex, at least with the foreplay but he wanted to take it slow so bad. Talk you through it. “Don’t worry, gonna fuck you.”

“Now,” You move your head to the side to give him more room to mark your neck. His hand slides up to cradle your jaw, lips attacking your skin.

“Not yet,” His hot breath against your skin, lips pressing to your neck.

Thomas’ hands slid under your thighs, you jump up wrapped your legs around his waist, His fingers press into your skin, holding you up against him. Your arms wrap around his neck as he tosses you down on the mattress.

“Take off your clothes, okay?” You nod in reply and quickly pull off your skirt and panted as he pulls off his shirt. You pull off your own shirt, tossing it onto the hardwood floor next to his discarded clothes.

You look up to see Thomas, pulling off his pants leaving him in his tented boxers. You suddenly feel yourself getting hotter than before.

It was in a flash, he was on top of you, hot skin against yours. His hands pried your thighs apart then slid up to your bra clad chest. He slid his fingers under your bra while he nipped at your jaw. His glasses were still on and pressed into your skin

Your fingers slid up to pull his glasses off his face, to which he tried to resist. “I can’t see without those.”

“Shut up,” You cut him off with a kiss, fingers tangling in his brown hair. His glasses were held in your free hand, falling against the pillow beside you.

He broke the kiss, still brushing his plump lips against yours before speaking. “Put them on.”

You knew what he meant but you ignored him, pushing him on his back instead. You climbed onto his lap, your hands pushing him down against the mattress.

You placed his glasses on your face, they made your vision blurrier and you wanted to see him. You went to pull them off but he gripped your wrist, pulling your hands away from your face.

His cock twitched through the fabric of his boxers, you slowly grinded your hips in return. A small whimper left his lips, his eyes shut. You slid you hand up his body to his lips, your pointer finger slowly parting his lips.

You watched as his eyebrows furrowed, parting his lips for you. You roll your hips again and you listen as another soft groan leaves his lip. You smiled, leaning down to press your lips to his. Deep in the kiss, your hands slide to slowly his boxers down allowing his cock to spring out.

Your lips parted at the sight of his hard cock, pre-cum drooling down the tip. His large hands slid up your waist and pulled you down onto his cock. Your wet folds sliding across his length .

“Want you inside,” You whined, nails gripping his chest. He bit back any noises, nodding at your request and let go of your hips. You bit your lip, positioning his tip at your entrance.

“What do you want?” He asked with a smirk, a little too amused for your own liking. You tried to sink down but he had a firm grip on yours hips stopping you.

“Please, need it.” You whine, trying against but his grip on your hips stopped you from it. You clenched your jaw in frustration at his lack of sympathy.

“Want me to fuck your pussy?” He asked with a small laugh, you scoffed in return.

“You’re too vulgar.”

“I’m about to be inside you, what type of vulgarity would you prefer?”

“Shut up—“ You didn’t get to finish before his hands were pulling your hips down, his tip pushing past your entrance. Your mouth fell agape and your eyes were shut closed. You whimpered at the slight sting, he was bigger than you expected.

“Yeah, take it like a slut.” He smirked, watching as he bottomed out, stretching your cunt wide open. God, he wished he had his glasses on to see how your cunt looked around him.

You didn’t noticed his hand fumbling onto the night table, grabbing your old camera you retired from taking photos. The flash made you squint through his glasses.

The small photo came up on the screen, your perfect body sitting on his cock, tits full and being held in his free hand. He was saving that for later. He put the camera back on the nightstand, hands trailing up to steal his glasses back but you grabbed his wrist.

“I don’t think so.” You swatted him away, adjusting his glasses on your face. Your vision still just as blurry as his own.

“I wanna see you.” He whined, leaning back on his elbows, squinting back at you.

“The photo for later wasn’t enough?” You tease.

“Come on, give me my glasses so I can fuck you.”

You pushed him back down on the bed, raising your hips before dropping them. A groan slipping from his lips as his head falls back on the pillow, bucking his hips up.

“Fuck me, Thomas.” You whined, grinding your clit into his pelvis. His nails dug into your hips leaving red crescent shaped marks. His lips were parted, head back as you rode him. "Please."

With that he flipped you onto your back, pressing your legs to your chest. The small room was filled with obscene noises and the slapping of skin. He thrusted his length into you harder, pulling you to meet his thrusts.

"Fucking begging for it," He grunted, his tip pressing into your sweet spot. Strained moans left your lips, despite your best effort to keep quiet. New York apartments had thin walls.

Your hand slapped against your mouth to muffle the loud moan that had just left your lips. His hand slid to your wrist, sloppily grabbing it and pinning it above your head.

"Don't hold back," He ordered, lips connecting to yours to swallow your moans and whines. His free hand travelled down from where he pinned your legs to your clit, pressing your sensitive bud.

"Fuck--" You moaned, the knot in your stomach tightening. His thumb rubbed your clit harshly, pressing his thumb hard against it. "So close."

"Come for me, baby." His lips brushed against yours, his saliva coating your kiss-swollen lips.

A gasp left your lips, then a strained whine. Your walls clenched around his cock, the knot coming undone. Your head thrown back against your pillow as he fucked you through your orgasm.

"Yeah baby, just like that. Come for me." His whispered into your skin, your hips bucking against his thrusts. He pressed soft kisses into your skin as you arched off the mattress. His hands travelled to the arch of your back, rubbing your spine. "So good for me."

You fell back to the mattress, soft whimpers leaving you between your pants. His hand left your sensitive clit instead holding your hips as he neared his own orgasm. Pulling out, his hot seed coating your thighs and stomach.

"Give me back my glasses, I wanna see that photo."

[taylormarieee]

Stalker Thomas Webb

Summary: Your the new girl and you've just moved into this apartment in New York to get away from your parents and it seems you have a cute stalker...

Word Count: 1.5k

Pairings: Thomas Webb x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Thomas being a stalker, confrontation, suggestive throughout the entire fic, reader being a tease, Thomas being a needy boy, Thomas playing dumb/ hard to get, Mimi being jealous, almost smut...tehehe maybe part 2?

You were so happy to finally be free of the toxic relationships in your life. Your mom, your dad, and even your ex boyfriend. You were free, finally free.

You loved reading and writing and you felt as though you could achieve your passion, your goal to be a writer here in New York. Your mom never accepted it, a small town girl could never possibly make it big.

But you wanted to prove her wrong. You wanted your name in the paper and to be in interviews and to finally show them at you did mean something, that you had talent, that you actually had what it takes to be successful.

Yea, you were a small town girl but you were going to show them that small town girls can make it big! You finally got an apartment. Your apartment number was 2c. You were so happy.

You even made a friend. His name was Thomas. He lived in the Apartment two doors down from you. He was like you.

College dropouts, suckers for writing, lovers for books, you guys were destined to be friends.

But Thomas wanted something more. Even if he did just meet you 2 days ago, he wanted to feel every inch of your body on his body. He wanted you so close that your souls were touching.

He craved you, needed you. So whenever you went out, he went out as well. Constantly stalking and seeing what you were up too. But what Thomas didn't notice was that he wasn't exactly being sneaky or discreet about his stalking.

You constantly saw him and at first you just thought you guys were in the same place coincidently but then you started noticing him everywhere. Places he usually wouldn't be.

You found it quite cute because you wanted to be more than just friends with Thomas too! Yea, you guys have known each other for like 2 weeks now but he was incredibly attractive and you just wanted to suck the life out of him.

Prune him of every last drop of cum he has in his body. Make his dick twitch with overstimulation and anticipation. You wanted it badly but when was the right time?

Eventually when his stalking decided to get more frequent, you decided to confront him. You hid behind a wall waiting for him to turn the corner. When he did you jumped out with a "Boo!" and he stumbled back.

You began to laugh and his face got red. "Hey Thomas... why you stalking me, hmm?" you asked in the sweetest voice.

He's blushing heavily now, 'dammit you knew, he's screwed'.

"W-What do you mean y/n? I wasn't f-following you." He falters and you find it kinda cute. You smile at him and get closer to him. "Oh really? You've been following me for 2 and a half weeks now baby... why deny it? I'm not mad...I find it adorable actually."

He gulps and you can physically hear his heart beating. You get closer to him and your eyes rake up and down his body. A smirk creeps it's way onto his face as he questions, "Your not mad?" He asks.

You shake your head 'no' and he smiles even wider. "that's good. Was planning on doing it a lil longer." He says.

"Why stalk me when were neighbors. If you wanna fuck me just ask." You respond. His eyes grow wide at your statement. 'You caught him' he thought.

That's exactly what he wanted. For some reason he couldn't verbalize it with you. He wanted to make sure you weren't seeing anyone and now that his fear has been denied, he can have you all to himeself.

"What makes you think I wanna fuck you? Hmm?" He asks with a smirk on his face and it only grows wider when yours falters. You look around and shuffle nervously but then as you opened your mouth to say something, some girl turned the corner.

"Thomas, what's going on here?" She asks. She's short but maye the same height as you. Short black hair and melanin skin that glowed in the sunlight.

"Oh hey Mimi." He says breaking his eye contact away from you to face her. 'So this was mimi... the girl that couldn't get her fucking feelings straight,' you thought. She was pretty but Thomas deserved better in your opinion.

"Who are you? and Thomas what the hell!? You were supposed to meet me today at the cafe. I saw you walk by but you didn't come in so I decided to follow you." she says looking between you and Thomas.

"This is my new friend," he says introducing you by your name. "I'm hanging out with her. I totally forgot about the cafe today, my bad." He says.

You scoot a little closer to Thomas to let a woman pass by she mutters out an 'Excuse me' and you smile and gladly move out her way. You grab Thomas' hand to make sure that the lady didn't have to say it again.

Mimi's line of eyesight drops down and you notice your still holding Thomas's hand. You let go of his hand and smile at him. "Me and Nick broke up. Wanted to tell you that today..." She says looking everywhere but Me and Thomas.

"Did you?" He says looking dead at her. She looks up and makes eye contact with him. "Your supposed to be more excited than that. I broke up with him because I got into Croatia and I want you to come with me!" she says as we stand there.

You can tell she's fuming. It's like right out of a forbidden love story except there usually standing in the rain. Shes mad at you. feels as if you are taking Thomas away from her when he was her's first.

But she can't be mad when she blew it, she is the cause to this whole situation. Thomas wanted her. Badly, and she blew it.

"I have a confession to make." Thomas says. You are looking at Mimi but realize he's not looking at her. He's looking at you.

"I love you. I've loved you since the first time I saw you walk into your apartment. Since the first time we made eye contact I knew. I knew I needed to be with you. So I followed you. Everywhere. More than 2 and a half weeks. I followed you to find out what you liked and what your routine was." He confesses. Your heart swells and you smile.

"I know I seem weird and out of place and I probably sound like a complete creep but, I really do love you. I'm so in love with you that it hurts." He finishes his confession with a sigh and your smile only gets wider.

"I love you too Thomas. I've loved you since I first saw you grabing your mail and talking to that nice old man in 2b. I'm in love with you too Thomas Webb. So much I might cry cuz I felt like I couldn't have you because of her." You say motioning to mimi.

Mimi drops her head as she realizes she's too late. She confessed to Thomas and he found someone else. He really was a good man, guess it was just the right person at the wrong time.

You hug Thomas not wanting to kiss him in front of Mimi to make her feel bad. She says goodbye to Thomas before getting a cab.

He feels bad now but if she’s leaving she most likely won’t come back. He grabs your hand and you both start running towards your apartment as it did start to rain.

When you both got inside the apartment complex, you both laughed as you were both drenched due to the rain.

"I need you... god I've waited so long." Thomas confesses. Your eyes twinkle and you smile.

But you realize that this is all happening a little to fast. As much as you wanted to give into the throbbing between your legs, you needed a tiny bit of time to think.

Before you could answer he kisses you and pushes you against the door. Your hands find purchase on his chest. his muscles and abs being see through because of his wet shirt.

You kiss him back eagerly as you taste cherry on his lips. You break the kiss and suck on that sweet spot on his neck and jaw. Marking him as yours.

He moans in your ear as he lifts you up to straddle his waist. You lock lips with him again before realizing what you were going to say to him.

"T-Thomas baby, wait... wait a second." You say out of breath. He hums and looks at you. "W-What? what's wrong?"

"This is going a little too fast hmm? Lemme just think about this cause mimi is still plaguing my mind and I feel bad. I want you so badly but let's freshen up and come over later tonight yea... to finish what we started ok?" You say with a little smirk on your face.

You kiss him one more time before adjusting his glasses and kissing his nose. He smiles and slaps your ass before he makes his way to the door.

"Your lucky I love you... I'll wait just a little longer for you." He says before smiling and closing the door. You giggle to yourself and make your way to your bedroom.

Oh how you longed to see him again... feel him just one more time...

Taglist: @emmaafinchh @dustbunniess @willyoubemycherryy

[willyoubemycherryy]

➯imagine being Thomas Webb’s pretty shameless neighbor❣︎#𝟙 𝕚𝕟 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕖𝕣𝕚𝕖𝕤

❥𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥𝐲 𝐢𝐬 𝐛𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐛𝐚𝐝, 𝐓𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐚𝐬𝐟 𝐧𝐨 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐮𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐟𝐥𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐮𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐬, 𝐟𝐞𝐦 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐧𝐞𝐮𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐥 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐞𝐥𝐬𝐞 ⚠︎︎MDNI⚠︎︎

ALSO: this is an x reader but I used my name Dollette Watson ie. Doll/D.W for short (my mom was born in the 60’s can u tell?) just because I think the constant y/n is annoying if u want me to change it lmk and I will♥︎

“𝐻𝑒 𝑠𝑝𝑒𝑒𝑑 𝑖𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑟𝑎𝑖𝑛 𝑤ℎ𝑖𝑙𝑒 ℎ𝑖𝑠 ℎ𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑜𝑛 𝑚𝑦 𝑐𝑜𝑜𝑐ℎ𝑖𝑒. 𝐻𝑒 𝑡𝑜𝑢𝑐ℎ𝑖𝑛’ 𝐸𝑚𝑖𝑙𝑖𝑜 𝑃𝑢𝑐𝑐𝑖．．“

When you first moved in, you actually hadn’t seen him at all for almost 3 weeks.

Between settling in, moving your stuff together, job hunting, and being somewhat social, it wasn't until things slowed down a bit that you finally did see him and damn, did you see him.

You had just walked through your buildings door. Tired from work and the tight ass “uniform”, which was nothing more than a button up top with a tiny pinstripe skirt. Huffing in irritation you ready yourself for the trek up the stairs in goddamn heels, when you notice feet and the man attached to them blocking your way.

Raising an eyebrow, you wait a beat for him to move until you realize that he was wearing headphones.

You walk closer until the tips of your shoes are nearly kissing and watch the exact moment he snaps back to planet earth. Startling as he looks up at you.

You were suddenly grateful he had headphones on when you gasped because nothing could have prepared you for someone so attractive.

He was undeniably the finest man you have ever seen in your life, period.

Pretty cut brown hair, thoughtful baby blues behind smart framed glasses that brought attention to his high ruddy cheekbones, and god his nose. You have to blink away the graphic image of how good said nose would feel grinding against your clit before the present dull throb in your core turns into full blown pulsating.

Your efforts don’t matter because it’s game over for you once you drop your eyes to his lips. They were just so…full. Deep pink n plush, that line down the middle of his bottom lip was doing something to you.

You don’t even care if he notices you checking him out. In fact, you want him to. Because you were going to have him one way or another and have a real fun time with it too.

So, you watch his eyes flit to the hem of your shamelessly short skirt before trailing them down your legs, all the way to your heels. Enjoying the heat that his gaze alone lights in you.

Unfortunately, you are tired so playtime will have to wait.

Clearing your throat, you give him a cheeky smile, “Going up? Or are you waiting down here forever?” Tone teasing as you walk up the first two stairs to stand beside him. He watches your every move almost devotedly.

“No, I’m going up. I mean- I live here so that’s…yeah. I was just lost in thought.” His voice is deeper than you thought it’d be as he stumbles a bit through his answer and the raspiness in it makes you want to whine.

But wait.

“You live here too? Because I moved in a few weeks ago actually.” You tell him and he nods.

“Yeah? weird I’ve never seen you around the building though.” you laugh as you definitely would have remembered seeing him.

“That’s probably because you’re obviously a busy guy. Lost in thought in the middle of the stairs. Does this thought have a name?” Smiling, you prod him juuust a little, to gauge if he’s single. He smiles with you and it’s cute. Lightly shaking his head before he suddenly stands.

Fuck you upside down in a full Nelson he’s tall.

“Busy is the last thing I am. The name was Mimi. I’m just the friend that never made it to boyfriend, but I’ll get out of your way…?” He pauses as he waits for your name.

“DW. Dollette Watson. But for what it’s worth,” you hesitate before deciding to just go for it,

“I’m positive you’re the type to talk someone through it so it’s her loss entirely. Try not to sulk too much...?” You know you’re being bold. Innuendo all in your voice but he’s so hot you truly can’t help it. Thanks to his height and close proximity, you have to look up to make eye contact which is hard because of the way you’re trying not to stare at his full lips. And he smelled so good.

“Thomas, Webb. But thank you.” His voice is lower as he looks down at you with hooded eyes and the urge to devour his mouth hits you hard. But, you just walk up the steps until you can look down at him and turn to face him.

“Well, it’s been a pleasure meeting you but…if you ever want to get busy, come to 5b. I’m sure we could find something interesting to do”. You aren’t teasing this time. You mean business. Leaning in to whisper so close to his face that you can smell his chapstick. His eyes widen before they drop and you actually do whine as he bites his lip and comes closer.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Until next time though. Bye Thomas.” You can’t resist and lean forward to nip his bottom lip. His light throaty groan sends warmth all over your body as it tapers into a soft “fuck”.

“Bye Doll”, Thomas mutters after you pull away, briefly noticing how his ears and neck have reddened, before you start walking up to your place.

Oh, he’s going to be fun. You think, feeling his eyes on you while you walk up until you’re out of sight.

Smirking, you hope he saw your panties…and how soaked they were.

[ask-james-erickson]

Imagine having a broken limb

-Definitely not Thomas Webb

[biboocat]

Precious Bane by Mary Webb (25 March 1881 – 8 October 1927), a new author for me. The time of the story is only 200 or so years ago, but the remote, rural Shropshire setting, the dialect & unusual names, and the religious & folkloric traditions create a mysterious mood that seems almost medieval. The mood for example is epitomized by the description of a funeral: the traditional nighttime procession by torch light, the funeral attire with black streamers, boughs of rosemary, funeral cakes wrapped in black edged paper, the macabre role of the “sin-eater”. It took a little time to get use to dialect and learn about some of the folkloric traditions, but then it’s easy to follow. I found three brief videos of Mary Webb by Cath Edwards on YouTube interesting and helpful in explaining a few of the folkloric traditions that appear in Precious Bane. The heroine and narrator, young Prue Sarn is a beautiful creation. Her goodness, wisdom, and spunky nature are in the mold of Maggie Tulliver in The Mill on the Floss and Tess d’Urbervilles, and of course one is greatly sympathetic towards someone who privately suffers from being created differently from others. I love the pervasiveness of nature’s beauty which reminds me fondly of Thomas Hardy’s novels. There is also an indictment against the evil of man: greedy ambition, lust, cruelty, how evil men cloak their hate, misogyny, and murderous intent with religious and other superstitious conventions: “Suffer not a witch to live!”, “Hare-shotten!” Finally, there is Kester Woodseaves, one of literature’s greatest heroes. It’s an amazing novel, one of my favorites of all time. Beyond her impressive technical prowess, Mary Webb gives us a vision of morality to imagine and emulate.❤️

Some memorable excerpts:

He was ever a strong man, which is almost the same, times, as to say a man with little time for kindness. For if you stop to be kind, you must swerve often from your path. So when folk tell me of this great man and that great man, I think to myself, who was stinted of joy for his glory? How many old folk and children did his coach wheels go over? What bridal lacked his song, and what mourner his tears, that he found time to climb so high?

So cruel can folk be and mean nothing. (People can be cruel unintentionally.) This was the reward for my kind act. But those that say good doings are rewarded are wrong.

Was it all of the flesh, as it was with the young squire, or did my soul that was twin to his (Kester Woodseaves) draw him and wile him, succor his heart and summon his love, even, then? For I do think that the spirit makes herself busy about the body, and breathes through it and throws a veil over it to make it more fair than it is of itself. For what is flesh alone?

At the hiring fair: I was glad I worked at whome, and had no need to go and be hired, for certain sure nobody ud have taken me. It was a bitter thought, that.

At a bull baiting: I could see the bull, a little white one, tied to a staple in the wall of the ball ring, which was a semi circle built of rough gray stones. The bright yellow sunshine held them all, as if they were bees in the mid of the honeycombs, and the blue air, the brown water, the green meadow were all so fair, I could not believe blood must be shed on such a day. I wonder to myself, times, if it was fair, clear weather on Golgotha when Mary looked up at the cross, and whether there was some small bird singing, and the bees busy in the clover. Ah! I think it was glass–clear weather, and bright. For no bitter lacked in that cup, and surely one of the bitterest things is to see the cruelty of men on some fair morning with blessing in it.

There’s none so fierce as a loving woman, and it always seemed a strange thing to me that the mother of Jesus could keep her hands off the Centurion, and it could only have been because her Son had given orders afore. But indeed if it had been me, I think I should have forgot the orders.

I’ll be bound, if we could choose our heaven. I’m not very choice of golden streets myself. And I’d like my heaven afore I die.

#marywebb

[lenbryant]

(Long post-NYT) Review: An ‘Our Town’ for All of Us, Starring Jim Parsons

The Thornton Wilder classic returns to Broadway, still brutal and avant-garde after 86 years.

Jim Parsons as the Stage Manager in the Broadway revival of “Our Town,” at the Ethel Barrymore Theater in Manhattan.Sara Krulwich/The New York TimesOur TownNYT Critic’s Pick

The first act of “Our Town” takes place in Grover’s Corners on May 7, 1901. Nothing much happens in the fictional New Hampshire village that day, except that two local teenagers, George Gibbs and Emily Webb, fall in love completely unaware that they do so under the shadow of the granitic pillars of time.

But we are aware. Even in an act entitled Daily Life, the playwright, Thornton Wilder, quietly batters us with the news that we are mortal. Immediately upon introducing George’s parents, he has his mouthpiece, the Stage Manager, convey as if it were part of their names a detail of their deaths: Doc Gibbs’s in 1930, his wife’s on a visit to Canton, Ohio. He blithely jumbles together, like their bones, the joining and splintering of human lives. “Most everybody in the world climbs into their graves married,” he comments without comment.

So if you think of the play as small, sweet or old-fashioned, and Grover’s Corners as a twin town to Bedford Falls or Hooterville, I respectfully offer that you have the soul of a rock. In any good enough production, “Our Town” is titanic: beyond time and brutal.

The revival that opened Thursday at the Ethel Barrymore Theater, the fifth on Broadway since the play’s 1938 debut, is more than good enough. To use this word in the only positive sense I can imagine, it’s unbearable: in its beauty, yes, but more so in its refusal to offer beauty as a cure when it is only, at best, a comfort.

That effect is achieved by writing that is ingeniously mitered, doweled and sanded until it seems as plain as old furniture. Briskly, almost cursorily, we are shown the two main families and told the work they do: Doc Gibbs (Billy Eugene Jones) is the local physician, Mr. Webb (Richard Thomas) the editor of the Sentinel. The lack of outside opportunity for their harried, homemaking wives — Michelle Wilson as Mrs. Gibbs, Katie Holmes as Mrs. Webb — is summed up in a typically pithy, bone-dry quip: “All males vote at the age of twenty-one. Women vote indirect.”

The exposition, of which there’s a lot in the first act, from the prehistoric to the 5:45 train, is always doing double duty fast. When the Stage Manager hurries a geologist offstage once he starts talking about the region’s “unique fossils,” we get the joke about blathering academics but are also left with the suspicion that he’s referring to us.

In Act II, set three years later, every potentially heartwarming premise — the act is called Love and Marriage — is dowsed with the cold water of cynicism. The wedding of George (Ephraim Sykes) and Emily (Zoey Deutch) counterposes the groom’s conventional nervousness, the bride’s existential panic, the ecstatic dithering of the besotted Mrs. Soames (Julie Halston, hilarious) and Mrs. Gibbs’s judgment of the whole ritual as a “perfectly awful” farce. Huge as all these sentiments feel to the characters, the play’s structure objectifies them and, in so doing, makes them small. You are left to sort out the scale in your seats.

Those seats don’t feel so far away; the production, despite its Broadway proportions, does much to shorten the distance. Beowulf Boritt’s set, as Wilder requires, is minimal — mostly weather-beaten siding — but also features a nebula of lanterns that extends into the orchestra. (The spectral lighting is by Allen Lee Hughes.) Also connecting you to the action is a wafting scent-scape matched to the action: heliotrope in Act I for the flowers the women grow, vanilla in Act II for sweetness and bacon in Act III for the longings of memory. (The bacon is a nod to David Cromer’s powerful 2009 Off Broadway production.) Up to 30 audience members are seated onstage, blending playgoers into the community.

Leon suggests that less literally too: The Gibbses are Black, the Webbs are white, the townspeople both and neither and more. Dede Ayite’s costumes freely mix formal period styles with contemporary casuals. (At one point, George wears a tank top.) The first thing you hear, in a prelude, is the Hebrew word “Shema,” part of an interfaith medley of Jewish, Muslim and Christian prayer. And with music that also includes BeBe and CeCe Winans singing “Lost Without You” for the wedding — the sound is by Justin Ellington — the production reaches forward in time and taste as well.

These might feel like anachronistic intrusions in a play bound tighter to its own age. In this timeless one, though, they feel like a mission statement: The “our” in the title means everyone.

That’s completely congruent with Wilder, as Act III, nine years further along, brings home. Boritt’s set undergoes a simple yet breathtaking transformation to deliver us to the cemetery we’ve heard much about, but now some of the characters from the earlier acts are in it. They do not seem unhappy or uncomfortable as they dully chat about the weather, trying not to think too hard about the living.

If only the living could return the favor! But this is where the play goes for your guts. The philosophical extremity to which Wilder has been leading now emerges in a scene of Shakespearean imagination, hubris and regret. His thought experiment is this: What would happen if one of the dead, ignoring the advice of her cohort, sought to return for one day to life? The answer is that she could not endure it. And neither could we.

I would tell you more about what was happening onstage but by that point I could no longer see it. Perhaps if you have lost a loved one, or feared losing yourself, you will feel the same way.

In other words, you will feel the same way.

The effect is almost geological: Push down long and hard enough here, watch an explosion happen there. It depends on the deep repression of emotion that deeply emotional people must master to survive — something that Wilder, a closeted homosexual, knew in his bones. Parsons seems to as well. With his light touch and cynical sang-froid, and the comic timing he has honed for years on television, he makes an ideally shrewd and withholding Stage Manager, placing you just where he wants you during the banter to achieve the greatest vulnerability to the blows.

Ultimately, that’s the trap of “Our Town.” Whether you are an Emily — apple-cheeked and wild-souled in Deutch’s gripping performance — or a cheerful George, a dizzy Mrs. Soames or the dour, alcoholic choirmaster nailed by Donald Webber Jr., you sooner or later wind up at Act III. If you are lucky, you will have valued “above all price” (as Wilder says in the play’s preface) “the smallest events” of daily life so that you will not feel cheated when forced to give them away. In that sense, “Our Town,” a unique fossil itself, is just another small event. But it’s one of the biggest smallest events the theater has produced.

Our Town Through Jan. 19 at the Ethel Barrymore Theater, Manhattan; ourtownbroadway.com. Running time: 1 hour 45 minutes.

Jesse Green is the chief theater critic for The Times. He writes reviews of Broadway, Off Broadway, Off Off Broadway, regional and sometimes international productions. More about Jesse Green

[ulkaralakbarova]

In the upscale Toronto strip club Exotica, dancer Christina is visited nightly by the obsessive Francis, a depressed tax auditor. Her ex-boyfriend, the club’s MC, Eric, still jealously pines for her even as he introduces her onstage, but Eric is having his own relationship problems with the club’s female owner. Thomas, a mysterious pet-shop owner, is about to become unexpectedly involved in their lives. Credits: TheMovieDb. Film Cast: Francis: Bruce Greenwood Christina: Mia Kirshner Eric: Elias Koteas Thomas: Don McKellar Tracey Brown: Sarah Polley Zoe: Arsinée Khanjian Harold: Victor Garber Inspector: David Hemblen Customs Officer: Calvin Green Man in Taxi: Peter Krantz Scalper: Jack Blum Man at opera: Billy Merasty Doorman: Ken McDougall Man at Opera: Damon D’Oliveira …: Maury Chaykin …: C.J. Lusby …: Nadine Ramkisson Film Crew: Screenplay: Atom Egoyan Editor: Susan Shipton Producer: Camelia Frieberg Set Dresser: Linda Del Rosario Set Dresser: Richard Paris Costume Design: Linda Muir Director of Photography: Paul Sarossy Assistant Director: David Webb Production Manager: Sandra Cunningham Assistant Production Manager: Roberta Pazdro Production Coordinator: Roland Schlimme Second Assistant Director: Fergus Barnes Third Assistant Director: Michele Rakich Other: Simone Urdl Other: Hussain Amarshi Assistant Production Coordinator: Carolynne Bell Extras Casting: Scott Mansfield Camera Trainee: Joseph Micomonaco Other: Mark Willis Focus Puller: Paul Boucher Steadicam Operator: David Crone Gaffer: David Owen Electrician: George Kerr Script Supervisor: Joanne T. Harwood Grip: Harper Forbes Boom Operator: Peter Melnychuk Set Dresser: Garth Brunt Makeup Artist: Nicole Demers Hair Designer: Debra Johnson Original Music Composer: Mychael Danna Sound Designer: Steve Munro Movie Reviews: badelf: The best psychological drama I’ve seen in a long time. I can’t even remember anything that comes close. Filipe Manuel Neto: **Something abstract and disconnected, not worth seeing more than once in our life.** This is one of those films that puts such a huge barrier between the audience and the screen that it seems like we’re not even being taken into consideration by the producers. Despite the attempts, there is not a single sympathetic or palatable character, the script does not help and the feeling that hangs in the air is of a lack of connection and solidity in the final product that can only be explained if we think about the way the director wanted to be. abstract by force. Everything takes place around a chic striptease club, Exotica, in Toronto. There is a dancer who enchants not only a client who goes to see her every day, but also the presenter, who is her ex-boyfriend and one of the most possessive and unhappy people we can imagine. Add to this an animal trafficker with problems admitting homosexuality who is forced to participate in a revenge plan, and we have a film that we probably won’t want to see more than once. Atom Egoyan gives us firm direction, but a much less secure and solid script. I like the way it addresses loss, trauma, the feeling of denial of reality and grief. However, to believe that a woman would set up an elegant strip club and her daughter would have the courage to take over the “family business” is to completely ignore the realities of these commercial establishments, where legality and illegality sometimes go hand in hand. A real luxury house would never hold private sessions on tables in the main room for a low price, but in separate rooms for a much higher price, and real strippers don’t usually dance to the same music and use the same stage number constantly. There are also huge holes that the script never explains and that are left hanging. For example, why did Christina decide to become a stripper if it is clear, from the characters’ words, that that is not the place she deserved to be. Bruce Greenwood is the actor who deserves the most praise for his work here. He is the only one trying to break the ice and reach out to the public in some way, and that deserv...

[ao3feed-brucewayne]

Well... that was unexpected (subject to change)

read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/9CYWjzA by scrambleddragonegg When Peter’s tear-filled goodbyes were meant to send him back to another Earth, he thought the wizard meant his Earth. This Earth had a city out of his imagination. A dark city with more smog than New York ever had. A city that crushes spirits before they can even be born. A city home to some of the most extreme villains Peter’s ever seen. This? This is not his earth. Words: 4629, Chapters: 3/?, Language: English Fandoms: Batman - All Media Types, Spider-Man - All Media Types, The Amazing Spider-Man (Movies - Webb), Batman: Wayne Family Adventures (Webcomic) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Categories: M/M Characters: Peter Parker, Peter-Three (Spider-Man: No Way Home), Jason Todd, Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson, Tim Drake, Damian Wayne, Stephanie Brown, Cassandra Cain, Barbara Gordon, Other Character Tags to Be Added, Duke Thomas, Jonathan Kent, Bernard Dowd, Clark Kent, Selina Kyle, Diana (Wonder Woman) Relationships: Peter Parker/Jason Todd, Minor or Background Relationship(s), Bernard Dowd/Tim Drake Additional Tags: Canon-Typical Violence, sometimes?, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Precious Peter Parker, Protective Peter Parker, Peter Parker is a Little Shit, Jason Todd Needs A Hug, Protective Jason Todd, Protective Tim Drake, Damian Wayne is a Little Shit, Protective Damian Wayne, Bruce Wayne is Bad at Feelings, Alfred Pennyworth is the Best, Protective Alfred Pennyworth, Alfred Pennyworth is So Done, Alfred Pennyworth Ships It, holy shit that's a tag???, Explicit Language, it's jason todd my dudes, Bisexual Male Character, many of those, Bisexual Jason Todd, Bisexual Peter Parker, Bisexual Tim Drake, that's canon folks, Semi-Canon Compliant, Peter Parker is a Mess, Genius Peter Parker, Genius Tim Drake, Jason Todd Being a Little Shit, Jason Todd is a Menace, Jason Being Jason, canon-typical jason attitude, semi-canon compliant as in i play fast and loose with what is canon read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/9CYWjzA

[ear-worthy]

Unsung Science Podcast: Giving Voice To Untold Scientific Breakthroughs

Podcasting is particularly adept at science shows. Dope Labs, Science Vs, The Disappearing Spoon, and Unexplained are just a few of the noteworthy podcasts. Perhaps it is the lack of the visual component that challenges these shows to explain the science so efficiently using only words and sounds. It's not like you can wow your audience with an image from the Webb Telescope, and then sit back while your audience "oohs and ahhs."

Since science is such a broad and discursive topic, successful science podcasts have a "hook" that is designed to attract listeners. 

Unsung Science, produced by Simon & Schuster and CBS News, uses as its hook "The untold stories of mind-blowing achievements in science and tech."

What makes this science podcast so ear worthy is its excellent premise, skilled narrative storytelling, and superb host, taking you behind the scenes into the worlds of the people who’ve built the best in transportation, entertainment, food and other areas. What’s unique about these stories is that they veer from the well-traveled path of scientific discovery storytelling.

No Lindbergh, Alexander Graham Bell, and Thomas Edison here. Instead, listeners hear the untold stories of mind-blowing achievements that don't show up in your daily news feed. 

Some of my favorite episodes include the May 19th episode about David Peterson, the one man who makes a full-time living from creating, maintaining and safeguarding invented languages such as Star Trek's Klingon, and Dothraki and High Valyrian from HBO's Game Of Thrones. 

Want to ensure that your first date from a dating app goes sideways? Speak Klingon to your date as you explain your hobbies. 

Another favorite is also a recent one about how scientists at Colgate spent five years and millions of the company's dollars to design a recyclable tube of toothpaste. Then, Colgate made its patent available to other toothpaste makers. Wonders will never cease.

Unsung Science began in September 2021 and is in its second season. My favorite show of season one has to be the Baby Carrots episode. We learn that baby carrots are not really "babies" but the invention of a California carrot farmer and his family. The years-long saga of perfecting baby carrots by this farmer is an uplifting tale of perseverance, ingenuity, and imagination. After listening, you'll never look at carrots the same way.

The secret weapon of Unsung Science is the creator / host David Pogue. You've probably seen him on TV on CBS Sunday Morning, perhaps the best morning show on television. 

Pogue can handle narrative storytelling like Tom Brady could throw a football. He's master-class good at keeping listeners interested. Pogue also doesn't take himself or the subject matter too seriously. There's that sense of good-natured cynicism and raised-eyebrow humor that keeps the show from becoming too science-geeky. 

Pogue has superb narrative balance, explaining science, then waggishly pointing out the idiosyncratic tale surrounding the breakthrough.

Pogue's resume makes me realize that I am a serial underachiever.

 David Pogue was the New York Times weekly tech columnist from 2000 to 2013. He’s a six-time Emmy winner for his stories on CBS Sunday Morning, a New York Times bestselling author, a five-time TED speaker, host of 20 NOVA science specials on PBS, and creator/host of the CBS News/Simon & Schuster podcast Unsung Science.

He’s written or cowritten more than 120 books, including dozens in the Missing Manual tech series, which he created in 1999; six books in the For Dummies line (including Macs, Magic, Opera, and Classical Music); two novels (one for middle-schoolers); his three bestselling Pogue’s Basics books of tips and shortcuts (on Tech, Money, and Life); his how-to guides, iPhone Unlocked and Mac Unlocked; and his 2021 magnum opus, How to Prepare for Climate Change.

After graduating summa cum laude from Yale in 1985 with distinction in music, Pogue spent ten years conducting and arranging Broadway musicals in New York. He has won a Loeb Award for journalism, two Webby awards, and an honorary doctorate in music. 

Enough Pogue, now back to Unsung Science. The show offers listeners a learning experience, a science lesson that doesn't hurt your head, and a sense of things are always not what they seem, all while chuckling and smiling. 

This is one of my top recommendations for a podcast, science or otherwise. Check out Unsung Science and if you don't like it, feel free to contact me and tell me that I am full of it. Of course, I will only accept such feedback in Klingon or Dothraki.

[eymie]

not a request but that thomas webb fic was EVERYTHING oh my god i read it twice in a row wow

OH EM GEE TYYYY (im writing more as we speak)

[willyoubemycherryy]

➯Part 𝟚❣︎ of the Thomas Webb

🎀pretty shameless neighbor series🎀

@missusnora @eymie @eleanorbaybars ( ˘ ³˘)♥︎

❥𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐮𝐭, 𝐇𝐨𝐞𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫, 𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐤 𝐨𝐟 𝐟𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐲 𝐭𝐨𝐱𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐭𝐲, 𝐟𝐥𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐒𝐌𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐍 𝐮𝐫 𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐨𝐫, 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲, 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗰𝗵𝗮𝗽𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝗶𝘀 𝗹𝗼𝗼𝗼𝗼𝗻𝗴 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭 𝐱𝐨𝐱𝐨 ⚠︎︎MDNI⚠︎︎

“𝑊ℎ𝑒𝑛 𝐼'𝑚 𝑎𝑟𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑑 𝑠𝑙𝑜𝑤 𝑑𝑎𝑛𝑐𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑖𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑑𝑎𝑟𝑘, 𝑑𝑜𝑛'𝑡 𝑓𝑜𝑙𝑙𝑜𝑤 𝑚𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝑢’𝑙𝑙 𝑒𝑛𝑑 𝑢𝑝 𝑖𝑛 𝑚𝑦 𝑎𝑟𝑚𝑠...”

𝒙 • 𝒙 • 𝒙 • 𝒙

Apparently that one meeting had the universe’s blessing because two days later and nonstop thinking about the tall boy with the pretty eyes named Thomas; you see him again.

It was late.

Just a couple minutes after midnight. It wasn’t that you couldn’t sleep, you just wanted to get out for a little bit. So, only dressed in a thin cami and cotton plaid short shorts you’ve had since forever, you slide on some flip flops (while ignoring their contrast with your pink nails) grab your key, lock the door and go.

You jog up the stairwell at the end of the hall, all the way up until you get to the emergency exit that leads to the roof.

Stepping outside, the cool air makes your nipples harden but it’s refreshing and you take a deep breath. Looking out at the city, you walk to the little wall and take it in.

It’s relaxing but you sigh once that feeling of missing someone or something, rushes over you. You had moved to New York honestly, to run. Back at home there always seemed to be someone who wanted something from you. Whether it was answers about your personal business, affection, more closeness than you were comfortable sharing, or compliance.

You got tired of never being able to enjoy yourself and constantly guilt tripped for keeping your privacy private, you just said fuck it and left.

And best decision you made yet. Good fucking riddance.

Your thoughts drift back to where they’ve usually been…Thomas. He was so panty droppingly gorgeous. His eyes, the way he looked at you, the way his supple lips had felt beneath your teeth, right down to how they moved when he spoke and his voice. Biting your lip, even thinking about him made both your hearts beat faster.

“Bye Doll”. Damn. You wanted him all over you to the point of madness.

Imagine your surprise when you see said boy out the corner of your eye sitting on the floor to your far opposite.

“DICK ME DOWN SIDEWAYS! FUCK!!” Clutching your chest in shock, he smiles, walking up to you.

“How long have you been there??”. It was somehow slightly embarrassing to have him there while you were thinking about him.

He’d actually been there 30 minutes before you. Thinking of things to write when the door opened and out walked you. Looking just as good as you did 2 days ago when you sent his world spinning by just existing near it.

Taking you in while you silently looked into the night. Smooth skin, the hardened buds of your chest, and cute little shorts that couldn’t quite cover the plump of your ass. You were pretty down to the Barbie pink paint on your toes. Your expression gave away everything and nothing about what was going on in your mind.

“A little over half an hour. Couldn’t sleep.” Oh. You look at him closer and his answer checks out. His hair is tousled and he’s wearing a college tee and…lord have mercy….gray sweatpants. Your breath gets stuck in your throat before you snap your eyes back up to meet his that are already looking at you knowingly.

“What about you?” He asks lowly, standing close to you while you lean back.

“Just wanted to get out. Until I got lost in thought”.

“About what?” That one takes you a second to answer before deviousness gives you an idea.

“You really wanna know, Thomas?” Making your voice a sultry purr, he feels warmth lick up the back of his neck before nodding a weak “yeah”.

“I was thinking about all kinds of things. Favorite songs this week, work, if I should make more friends or stay a lone wolf, life in New York, but more often than not; you.”

Thomas listens and tries to ignore how his heart races. He’s so taken by you that he wants to know everything. But the part where you were thinking of him? More than once? He temporarily resets.

Taking a deep breath he steps closer to you, in your space. Looking down at you with something and the energy shifts as you look at each other.

“Tell me more?” Tilting his head, voice soft. Fuck. His voice.

“For starters, I moved here by myself because life back home got too stifling. Here is more fun and being a bartender isn’t bad either”, you trail off, his gaze making you feel like y’all should be doing more than just talking before you continue,

“right now my favorite song is ‘open arms’ by Sza. I would try to make friends but I don’t have time for mean girls. Y’know the type; always coming around with bad news, say they want you to win but hope you lose. I think about you because…” pausing, you choose honesty, “you light me up. I wanna get to know you and do stuff.”

You two are so close that your chests almost touch. Looking up at him, who’s looking down at you…in your shared gazes, there’s nothing but want.

He actually needs to be his girlfriend after listening to you. He’s always considered himself and his life boring, lacking. But you don’t seem to think that about him or care if that really was the case.

It’s sweet.

Your angelic voice pulls him from his trance.

“Well? Talk to me”, slowly bringing your hand up to caress the hair at the nape of his neck.

Reveling in your touch, Thomas wraps an arm around your waist. Pulling you to him, he takes in how soft you are against him, how good you smell. He inhales, the air sweetened by you and talks.

About anything. Everything.

He likes pastel green, trends aren’t his thing, he likes to write but he tutors for cash in other subjects, he likes poetry, his father doesn’t like him because he doesn’t exactly fit the aesthetic of his family, touches briefly on his sensitive mom, he dislikes unnecessarily rude people, how the internet will eventually ruin the world, that he too likes open arms by Sza but he preferred Bruno Mars and Metallica or just classical music, the old guy in the building he recently made friends with, that he’s boring, he doesn’t go out much and when he does, he’s socially awkward. And lastly…

“I think about you too. Haven’t stopped thinking about you since we met. I wanna hang out with you too. And do stuff.” Repeating your previous statement, he usually doesn’t talk this much but the captivated look in your eyes drive him to.

To you, it’s the way he speaks. What he talks about. The way he sees things. He’s not just skin deep, he’s present. Plus Thomas is actually not as timid as you thought he was. Oof.

You smile up at him as you two continue to chat and lose track of time. Just enjoying each other’s company.

“So why did you pick ‘wh𖦹recore’ as the name?”, he snorts out a laugh as you tell him about how you came up with the name to one of your playlists.

“Because it has most, if not all, of the slūttiest songs known to man on it. Yknow, for the culture. In-house wh𖦹res need representation too”. You sound completely serious for a few seconds before dissolving into giggles. Maybe the name was a touch absurd.

“Why? You got something against wh𖦹res?” Giggling while you tease him, he just shakes his head smiling lightly.

“Not wh𖦹res but home wreckers don’t sit right with me.” The subtle shift in his tone makes you want to smack whoever’s the cause of it.

“Oooh. Is this family related or…?- Wait-, you don’t have to tell me or even talk about if you don’t wanna.” You like him a lot so the last thing you want is to upset him by being too nosy.

Thomas furrows his brows and automatically denies it.

“No no no no no. It’s fine. I like talking to you”, tipping his head down in your direction, grins before it fades and he continues.

“Her name’s Johanna. She’s my father’s mistress.” He’s looking to the side, sounding far off and almost bitter.

“Me and Mimi saw them out together once and she was all over him. That’s how I found out. A few days later I talked to her, let her know that my father’s married, and that it’s fucked up and-“, pausing once he sees the “less-than impressed, let’s get ready to rumble” look on your face. A prettily arched eyebrow, jaw set, with the meanest glare he’s ever seen.

“And what???” Yeahhhh, you definitely did not like Johanna.

“And she said that my mom was giving my father to her because she was lacking….something? So, home wreckers aren’t a favorite.” Thomas tries to laugh that last part off but it doesn’t quite hit home.

“Look, whatever I could say, I’m not going to because I’ll curse a bitch sick from here to Peru. What does miss thing look like?” Well damn.

“A bit older than me, brown hair n eyes, little nose, about 5’6, posh brit, and….beautiful.” Amusement spreads across your face and suddenly he’s nervous again.

“Sounds beautiful. Beautifully basic. That’s a fraudulent hoe if I EVER heard of one. You and your mom deserve better from your father but that’s all I’ll say about that.” Sighing, you try not to let it irritate you too much. Still, it’s something about a manipulative woman with no respect for other’s relationships that makes you itch to put your hands on her. Hmm. Hopefully, for her sake, you don’t ever run into her.

Changing the subject, you lean back into him.

“At least I didn’t attempt to poison my uncle with mint chocolate chip ice cream”. Thomas gasps indignantly at you before picking you up and sitting you on the wall you were leaning against, smiling at your squeals.

“That was one time, smart ass”. Defending himself with a cheeky grin, he rests his hands on your waist.

You nod in mock surrender and settle into a comfortable silence before going back to playing with the short strands at the base of his neck.

He’s back to looking at you and you look right back. It’s comfortable how easy you feel with each other. The attraction.

So when Thomas slowly leans down, capturing your soft lips with his full ones, you fold immediately.

You felt it when you bit his lip before that they were soft but nothing like the full scope.

Soft like melting snow and having the same effect as they melded against yours. The warmth of your shared breaths had your heart beating hard, arousal trickling into your system at the feel of him. Gasping at Thomas, pressing harder against your mouth, tilting his head to deepen the kiss.

Your little sounds were driving him mad. Taking your bottom lip in his mouth, sucking lightly and letting it pop back into place, pupil’s dilating more at the throaty moans that spill from you. Moving a hairs breath back so he could look at you. Wet, swollen lips, heaving breasts, looking at him like that with your blown doe eyes. And before you know it, he’s rushing you again.

Except this time; there’s tongue and your heads move with the sheer intensity of your kiss. He licks hotly into you, almost eating your mouth out, holding you so close that you can feel his erection which only serves to make you wetter. Your whole body was like molten lava with how good you felt. Arousal lighting every nerve inside you.

But, you two can’t…not yet. And if you keep going like this, you will. So, begrudgingly, you tug sharply at the hair of his nape. Clit throbbing when he pulls away with a wet hiss, groaning.

Panting, he presses his nose against yours while you catch your breath.

“Thank god you let me kiss you,” he’s boyish as he chuckles and you smile broadly back.

“Thank god you kissed me period.” Feeling light and giddy as you rub your noses together.

“Got any plans tonight?” It’s husky and suggestive and your nipples tingle with the thought of what plans you could find yourself under.

“None actually…but I could help you unpitch your tent if you’d like?”, raising an eyebrow and making sure he follows your gaze as you look down at his crotch.

Thomas let’s out a hum before pecking your lips again.

“Tempting, Doll. But I feel like you’d be more trouble than help.” He murmurs, looking at you through lidded eyes. You nod, grinning because he’s right.

“True. Maybe later we can get up to our own kind of trouble and help each other out real nice then, hm?” He sharply inhales at that, moving his hands to settle back on your waist.

“Mhmm, I’ll hold you to that”, and this time your tiptoes up to kiss him. Sealing the deal.

“Then hold me tight.” Eyes gleaming as you smile up at him. He’s so darling, and you wish you could stay but it’s so late and you have things tomorrow so you have to say goodbye to him for now.

“Well while I don’t have plans tonight, I do unfortunately have plans tomorrow…so I’ll see you later?” Thomas throws his head back in a whine, pouting all the way as he reluctantly let’s go.

“It’s fine, don’t worry about it. It is really late but yeah, you’ll see me. Until then, try not to miss me too much, yeah?” He’s teasing but he misses you already really. Watching as you walk back to the exit, all light amusement as you look back at him with a playful wink.

“I make no promises!”, he’s blushing at that, heart fluttering at how much he likes you. That you’ll maybe miss him too.

Waving before you open the door and disappear behind it,

“Goodnight dreamboy”.

“Goodnight, Doll.” He whispers after you,

Then you’re gone….

but your scent stays sweet on his lips.

[ask-james-erickson]

Imagine having a broken limb-Thomas Webb

J: …

[biboocat]

“Hate was just a failure of imagination.”

- Graham Greene, The Power and the Glory

“It is a narrow mind which cannot look at a subject from different points of view.”

- George Eliot, Middlemarch

“I believe that this war, upon which I entered as a war of defense and liberation, has now become a war of aggression and conquest.”

- Siegfried Sassoon, Memoirs of an Infantry Officer

“Death is a dark dream, but it is not a nightmare. It is mankind’s lack of pity, mankind’s fatal propensity for torture, that is the nightmare. When a man or woman, confronted by helpless terror, is without the impulse to save, the world becomes hell.”

- Mary Webb, Gone to Earth

“There is no use in hating people – if you hate anything, you should hate what produced them.”

- Thomas Hardy, The Return of the Native

[pr0wlerpunk]

𝑀𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑠𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡♡︎

𝑅𝑒𝑞𝑢𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑠 𝑂𝑝𝑒𝑛♡︎

(You may send in requests but idk when they’ll be finished)

Prompt List

Updated: 1/8/23

Only doing x reader at the moment

Will do: Smut, Angst, Fluff, Poly, etc.

Won’t do: Rape, SA etc.

Nothing that involves bodily fluids/harm,(scat, piss etc)

Unless it’s specified as a kink (ex. Somnophilia, Blood play, Masochism, Dumification etc.

(Dm me privately if you have a request with one of these and I’ll see if I’m comfortable with it or not!)

Jus bc they don’t have their individual masterslists (ex. Mortal kombat masterlist) doesn’t mean their requests aren’t open, you may request anything you see on this list!

Bands

Metallica🎸

Queen

Games

GTA5

The last of us(games)

Until dawn🕕

The Quarry🛶

Mortal Kombat🗡

Apex legends🔫

Detroit Become Human🤖

Movies

Spider-Man into the spider verse/across the spider verse🕷️🕸️

Rio🍃(1/2)

Avatar🌿🌊(1/2)

The princess and the frog ✨

Jurassic World🦖

The Voyeurs🔭

All the bright places👩🏼‍❤️‍👨🏽

Justice league🔱

Suicide Squad 1-2🐀

Marvel🦸‍♀️

Black panther🐈‍⬛

Harry Potter franchise🪄

IT🤡

Let it Shine🌟

Celebrities

Jordan Fisher🐟

Daveed Diggs💋

Justice Smith🍀

Rami Malek👑

Tyler James Williams🧟‍♂️

Jason Momoa🔱

Tenoch Huerta🐍

WWE

Smackdown🔵

Raw🔴

Plays

Hamilton🎭

Hamilton cast🎭

Shows

Chicago fire

My babysitters a vampire🩸

Black lighting

The last of us(tv)

Criminal minds🫡

Ink Master🖋

The Umbrella Academy☂️

The Challenge🪢

The Sparrow Academy🐦

TWD🧟‍♂️

The thundersmans⚡️

Caos🧌

(the reader can be human, MorningStar(Related to Lucifer not Sabrina), demon, witch, vampire, and Hobgoblin or any other mythical creature you might want)

[revolutionary-pirate]

@little-lion-rampant ‘s tags on this post: #but weren't they also involved in some scandals#or were those g-wash's personal guards  The Life Guard was Washington’s personal guard and, yes, the first thing we have on record about George Washington’s Life Guard’s is, unfortunately, an alleged conspiracy regarding an assassination attempt on Washington, his staff, and other officers just a month after the corp was founded as well as the exploding of the magazine and spiking of the canons when the British troops arrived in New York harbour . The first thing that Samuel Blachley Webb wrote in his journal upon being appointed an Aide-de-Camp to Washington was about this plot, which was thwarted the day he joined the staff: June 21st, 1776. Webb wrote that a few days before he arrived, Washington received word that there was a plot underfoot by the tories of the area where the army was encamped outside New York. Many officers and members of the guard were deployed at 2AM that morning in order to root out the leaders of the conspiracy and arrest them, namely Mayor David Matthews. To their surprise, they also discovered five members of the Life Guard were involved in the plot, most notably a man named Thomas Hickey. If you’ve watched TURN, you’re probably familiar with those names from the Finale of Season 2. In TURN, it’s Robert Townsend that sent word of this plot when he heard it being discussed in his new tavern. This is obviously not historically accurate considering the fact that it happened two years prior to when it happened in the show, but the circumstances of Washington finding out about this plot, weren’t too off the mark. A worker at the tavern that the conspirators were meeting in had hovered about in the room next door to eavesdrop and was able to overhear the plot being discussed and he sent out a word of warning and the dismantling of the conspiracy began. Thomas Hickey was hanged on June 28th before of the whole army for his role in the plot, having been the one who drew the others into the plot after having been bribed into it by Mayor Matthews. 

[iamvegorott]

I’ve already made (a version of) this on my blog, but what about a Markiplier Sanders Sides Au?

Morality: Engineer (Since there’s some angst going on with Patton and the other Sides, I figured Engineer would be a perfect candidate for a conflicting Morality. Name: James, after the James Webb telescope)

Logic: Google (runs Mark’s schedule and is the source of his workaholic nature. Name: Apollo)

Creativity: Actor (Roman kinda doubles as Thomas’ creativity and his pride, so I figured I’d do the same for Mark. Name: Marcus)

Anxiety: Yancy (A Tumblr mutual pointed out that as an embodiment of anxiety, Virgil acts tough to hide his fear and is against change, both of which Yancy also does)

Deceit: Dark/Damien (Mark says that he’s a social manipulator, so it only makes sense. Also, imagine him pretending to be Engineer/James and Yancy being wary of him the whole time, like Virgil was with Janus. He’s also the one that convinced Mark he’s not a masochist. 😆)

Intrusive Thoughts: Wilford (I mean, how could he not be? He’s chaotic and…well, that’s pretty much it. But that alone makes him a good pick. He’s the one giving Mark the thoughts of “testing his limits.”)

Oooooooo~~~