#watch western movie lover

[lucysartworks]

[hotvintagepoll]

Propaganda

Ava Gardner (The Killers, The Barefoot Contessa)— She's so goddamn hot. Her and Frank Sinatra could've sandwiched me and I would've thanked them for the privilege

Anna May Wong (The Thief of Bagdad, Shanghai Express)—Wong was the first Chinese American movie star, arguably the first Asian woman to make it big in American films. Though the racism of the time often forced her into stereotypical roles, awarded Asian leading roles to white actors in yellowface, and prohibited on-screen romance between actors of different races, she delivered powerful and memorable performances. When Hollywood bigotry got to be too much, she made movies in Europe. Wong was intellectually curious, a fashion icon, and a strong advocate for authentic Asian representation in cinema. And, notably for the purposes of this tournament, absolutely gorgeous.

This is round 5 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]

Ava Gardner:

Ava Gardner is one of my favorite actresses of all time. Although a lot of her roles in movies are about her being beautiful and nothing else, there are some films where her acting truly shines.

Gifset: https://www.tumblr.com/pelopides/721438308726603776/ava-gardner-as-pandora-reynolds-pandora-and-the

Gifset 2: https://www.tumblr.com/portraitoflestatonfire/731899355804598272/if-the-loustat-reunion-doesnt-look-like-this-then

HER FACE. LOOK AT IT. Also was a life long supporter of civil rights and a member of the NAACP, had lots of fun love affairs with other stars, bullfighters, married several times but was also happy in between to just have lovers and was unapologetically herself.

I literally gasp every time I see her.

Between 1942 and 1964, Ava Gardner was credited in no less 50 films, and is still considered by some to be the most beautiful actresses that ever graced the silver screen. Despite life-long insecurities regarding her talent as an actress, she weathered public scandal, industry hostility, and outright condemnation by the Catholic Church with fearless grace. She would later in life talk candidly about the reality and pain of living through two (studio approved!!) abortions during her short marriage to Frank Sinatra, and while the two of them could not make their relationship work, they remained in each other’s lives for nearly 30 years. She would forever describe herself as a small-town girl who just got lucky, but always felt like a beautiful outsider.

Really genuinely one of the most beautiful human beings I have ever seen. An autodidact. Had amazing chemistry with Gregory Peck to the point where I do think about watching On The Beach again sometimes because they're so good together even though that movie did destroy me. Was a great femme fatale in many movies.

Anna May Wong propaganda:

"She so so gorgeous!! Due to Hollywood racism she was pretty limited in the roles she got to play but even despite that she’s so captivating and deserves to be known as a leading lady in her own right!! When she’s on screen in Shanghai Express I can’t look away, which is saying something because Marlene Dietrich is also in that film."

"SHE IS ON THE BACK OF QUARTERS also she was very smart and able to speak multiple languages and is a fashion icon on top of the acting/singing"

"Paved the way for Asian American actresses AND TOTAL HOTTIE!!! She broke boundaries and made it her mission to smash stereotypes of Asian women in western film (at the time, they were either protrayed them as delicate and demure or scheming and evil). In 1951, she made history with her television show The Gallery of Madame Liu-Tsong, the first-ever U.S. television show starring an Asian-American series lead (paraphrased from Wikipedia). Also, never married and rumor has it that she had an affair with Marlene Dietrich. We love a Controversial Queen!"

"She's got that Silent Era smoulder™ that I think transcends the very stereotypical roles in which she was typically cast. Also looks very hot smouldering opposite Marlene Dietrich in "Shanghai Express"; there's kiss energy there."

"Hot as hell and chronically overlooked in her time, she's truly phenomenal and absolutely stunning"

"A story of stardom unavoidably marred by Hollywood racism; Wong's early-career hype was significantly derailed by the higher-up's reluctance to have an Asian lead, and things only got worse when the Hayes code came down and she suddenly *couldn't* be shown kissing a white man--even if that white man was in yellowface. After being shoved into the Dragon Lady role one too many times, she took her career to other continents for many years. Still, she came back to America eventually, being more selective in her roles, speaking out against Asian stereotypes, and in the midst of all of this finding the time to be awarded both the title of "World's Best Dressed Woman" by Mayfair Mannequin Society of New York and an honorary doctorate by Peking University."

"Incredible beauty, incredible actress, incredible story."

"-flapper fashion ICON. look up her fits please <3 -rumors of lesbianism due to her Close Friendships with marlene dietrich & cecil cunningham, among others -leveraged her star power to criticize the racist depictions of Chinese and Asian characters in Hollywood, as well as raise money and popular support for China & Chinese refugees in the 1930s and 40s. -face card REFUSED to decline"

[rebelliousstories]

Faces of Old, Faces of New

Relationship: Cooper “The Ghoul” Howard x Reader

Fandom: Fallout

Request: No

Warnings: Fluff, Angst, Insecurities, Suggestive Themes, Strong Language

Word Count: 1,268

Main Masterlist: Here

Fallout Masterlist: Here

Part Two of: Not On My Watch

Summary: Holing up in some abandoned movie theater, Cooper is shocked to find one of his old films still in the projector.

“Ooo, we hit the mother load, baby. Look! Our very own movie theater!” She giggled as she ran inside like a child. There were still bodies scattered about but what place in the Wasteland did not have them? Cooper followed after her and chuckled as he watched his partner sprint to the theater.

He looked around in the lobby at the abandoned food and drink stations that had long since been wiped cleaned. It was sending him back in time; back to before the bombs and life was simpler and safer. To when he would take his daughter to the theater to see a picture, sometimes even his, because “daddy was her hero.” Premiering his new picture at a theater and being able to meet his adoring fans. The thought alone made his feel self conscious.

Cooper turned his head to see his partner stalking her way up a set of stairs that led to the projection room. His spurs clicked as he followed her up the old stairs. Surprisingly, the theater’s projection room was left seemingly intact, save for a bit of dust coating the surfaces. She giggled as she sat in a chair and began to spin around in it.

“Well, we can have us a little movie night, darlin’.” The Ghoul drawled, stopping her spinning with a mischievous grin on his face.

“You don’t know how long I have waited to be able to have one. I’ve always heard about movies but I’ve never seen one.” She commented, looking wistfully out to the theater room.

“Well, let’s see if we can’t get this baby to work.” He replied, beginning to dust off the different surfaces across the room. It reminded Howard of his very first job at the movie theater in his home town that allowed him to be paid to watch movies. He could not hear the dialogue for the most part, as the speakers were not n the projection room, but it did not matter. Cooper could quote most of the movies he saw word for word with deadly accuracy.

Finding familiar switches and knobs, he began to fire up the old machine. When it roared to life, he was shocked by the startled scream let out behind him. Turning, Cooper locked eyes with his partner.

“Sorry. Didn’t expect that sound to come out of that machine.” She muttered sheepishly. Cooper turned back to his work of getting the film up and running. He got the film starting its projection and flipped the speakers on.

“Come on, let’s go find us a seat, darlin’.” And with that, while the previews were going, Cooper took her by the hand and led her down the rickety stairs. They snagged their seats and waited for the feature presentation to start. It once it did, Cooper’s giddiness disappeared. He saw his name and face pop up on the silver screen, and saw how the story began to unfold. Even after all these years, he still remembered some of the lines.

“Hey, it’s you baby.” She pointed out happily. Her eyes glazed over as she watched her partner from years ago in the western.

“That ain’t me no more.” He grumbled, unable to keep his eyes off of the screen.

“Course it is. You’re just taking the role more seriously now.” She joked, finally looking at the current state of her lover. His deep voice echoed through the theater, throwing her off since she had only heard it right in front of her before.

“Hey,” she rubbed his arm gently, “what’s goin’ on in that head of your handsome?”

“Now how can you say that?” Cooper abruptly got up from his seat and began to pace in the isle beside them.

“Baby, what is going on?” Following his lead, she abandoned the moving picture in favor of trying to calm down her partner. Grasping his arm gently in her hands, the woman slowed his pace till he was just standing there, looking at the floor.

“You gotta talk to me, Coop. Ain’t gonna drive me away and it’s just us. We are the only ones here to hear this.” Her hand moved from his arm to his face in a delicate cradle. Far more delicate than he was expecting.

“You can’t say that to an old, ugly cowpoke like me. I ain’t deserving of that.” He lamented. Howard sounded so unlike himself. He sounded defeated. Like he has finally come face to face with his worst fear after all these years.

“Now why in the hell do you think that? I think you’re handsome, and attractive. Is it cause of your film?” Turning around, she saw the face of her lover up on that silver screen. His skin was smoother and his nose still in tack. Teeth pearly white, a gorgeous crop of har underneath his Stetson.

“Don’t look like that no more. Ain’t that same man. Not even close on the inside or the outside.” Cooper still had yet to pick his eyes up off of the floor below them when she turned around. Taking a deep breath in, and letting it out just as slowly, she began to speak.

“Coop, I don’t care that you don’t look like a movie star anymore,” he looked up at her with her words, “at least you still got the eyes. You got the voice. Sure as shit still got the build. You’re still you baby.”

“How could you still think that after looking at that and then looking at me?” Cooper looked so sad as he mourned his previous life.

“Because I don’t know that version of you, Coop. But I do know this one. The most badass, gunslinging, son of a bitch Ghoul to ever stalk the Wastelands. And I don’t care if you had everyone doting on you and now you feel that’s gone. But that doesn’t matter. I just want you right now. Not you of two hundred years ago.” She hugged him so close to her that he thought he was going to pop a radiated lung. Wrapping his arms around her, he squeezed her tight with the same force she gave him.

“Now, you gonna make this old cowpoke go soft again. Can’t have that.” Cooper pressed a kiss to the side of her head, and let her draw back.

“Never goin’ soft. Still as hard and beautiful as ever.” She pressed her lips to his.

“I’ll show you something hard and beautiful.” He smirked as he drew her into yet another kiss, this time deeper, and she smiled with him into it.

“Oh no, no, no. I wanna watch you be a sheriff for the next hour and then you can show me that something hard and beautiful, huh?” Teasing her partner, she took his hand to drag them back to their seats. However instead of occupying two, Cooper sat down first and dragged her into his lap. They wiggled around just a little bit to find a more comfortable position, which only made Cooper growl lowly into her ear.

“You stop that wigglin’ right now if you want to continue this picture right here.” Sending a swat the the outside of her thigh, she stopped for a brief second as the pain registered, but continued to find the right spot. Once she did however, she looked over her shoulder to her partner.

“Shh! The movie is playing.” Her harsh whisper caused a chuckle to come out of the ghoul behind her. He tightened his grip on her waist, before settling down to watch the feature presentation when his features were more present.

@imtherain

~

Tags:

[bookyeom]

A/N: Merry Christmas to all who celebrate, and a special Merry Christmas to my boo @gyuminusone. This is my Christmas gift to you!! I hope you have the best holiday, M! Sending love across the country!!!

Parties and Pickup Lines

Pairing: Mingyu x Reader Genre: friends to lovers Rating: PG (because of the swearing.. i think that's the only reason? also alcohol consumption) Word Count: 4.3k Warnings: kissing, alcohol consumption, reader & squad celebrate Christmas somewhat traditionally (Westernized)? Um... there's a kiss and some swearing also

“Mingyu.” You drag out the last syllable of his name, aggressively dropping your head against his arm as he continues to carry on conversation with Joshua, your host for the evening. He had hosted a dinner party that, in true Joshua Hong fashion, was full of expensive and foreign wines. It was great, but now you’re sufficiently tipsy, tired, and ready to go home, and Mingyu and Joshua just won’t shut up. 

“Are you giving her a ride?” Joshua nods in your direction and you narrow your eyes at him from your place against Mingyu’s side. All he does is smile back.

“Yeah,” Mingyu responds with a dramatic sigh, and you can feel him shift as he turns to look down at you. You want to lift your head to glare up at him, but you’re tired. 

“Of course you are,” Joshua quips. “Don’t know why I even asked.” He’s teasing, and you can’t see Mingyu’s reaction, but you imagine he uses his free hand to flip the other man off. 

You’re used to it — the way everyone teases you and Mingyu. Sure, you’re a little bit in love with him, but isn’t everyone? Sure, you’re always together, and you take care of each other, and sure, every time he looks at you, or smiles at you, or laughs because of you, you feel yourself falling just that little bit more. Sure, the two of you might be on the edge of something more than friends, but you don’t know what, and you don’t know how to get there. 

All you know is that right now, you want to go home.

Mingyu finally stands up from the couch, pulling you with him while bidding farewell to an amused Joshua. As he tugs you by the hand through the apartment towards the door, he calls out goodbyes to everyone you pass. You somehow manage a few hugs and waves yourself before you reach the exit, where Mingyu hands you your coat, and then you’re finally out in the fresh air.

“Our Uber is two minutes away,” he informs you. 

You nod and regretfully let go of his hand, pulling your gloves from your coat pocket and squinting down at your fingers as you clumsily put them on. You can feel him watching you as you wait, and you meet his eyes. The corner of his mouth turns up when you catch him looking, and you can’t help but stick your tongue out at him.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer,” you manage — quite smoothly if you do say so yourself — but all he does is smile bigger.

“I have lots of those.”

You gasp. “Blackmail is a crime.”

He ignores you and looks away, eyes scanning the road for your ride as he says, “It’s not my fault that you’re so nice to take pictures of.”

You stare at him, and even in your tipsy state, you feel it again — the overwhelming affection that blooms in your chest. You want to push him on it, you want to know, but for the millionth time, you can’t seem to get the words out. So you say nothing as your Uber arrives and drives the two of you back to your place.

Your apartment is basically Mingyu’s second home, and the same goes for you with his. “It’s just easier, convenient to know someone on the other side of town when you need to crash,” is the excuse you tend to use the most. You never say that it has a lot more to do with the way he looks in your kitchen in the morning as he makes your coffee, or the way he always makes you take his bed while he sleeps on the couch, or the way he knows exactly where you keep the popcorn for movie nights.

He knows where you keep everything else, too — makeup remover included.

“I personally don’t care if you take your makeup off or not,” Mingyu points out from his spot by your bathroom door, “but you are going to care in the morning, and I am going to be on the receiving end of your wrath if I don’t make you do it now.”

“Well then, help me,” you say, and it comes out as a whine. You’re too tired to care, and you say as much. You miss the way Mingyu’s entire being softens when you pout dejectedly, exhausted, and lean back against the mirror from where you sit on the counter. He lets out a dramatic sigh, but you know you’ve won when he moves to stand in front of you.

“Sit up,” he instructs, reaching over your shoulder to open the cupboard above the mirror as you do what he says. He’s careful not to hit your head with the door as he takes out your makeup wipes, doting as always. You watch as he opens the package while you sit there waiting, eyes intent on him and his movements. You try to stay still as he lifts a hand to your face, holding your breath as he gently begins to clean your makeup off. His free hand lifts to your chin to steady you after a moment, eyebrows furrowed in concentration. You wish you could blame the alcohol for the intense desire you feel to just… kiss him, but it’s not the first time, and you’re sure it won’t be the last. 

You realize it again, then, as you watch him — that your feelings for him run so irrevocably deep. 

You don’t know how long it takes as he stands between your legs, thoroughly cleansing your face with gentle motions. Once or twice, he catches you staring; the first time, he teases you, and the second, he pulls a face that’s meant to make you laugh (it works). When he announces that he’s done, adding on something about how grateful you should be for his hard work as he leans down to find your trash can, you can’t help it.

Your hands have a mind of their own. As soon as he straightens from throwing the cloth into the trash, they gently find his face, and he stills. He doesn’t pull away. He just waits, eyes wide and imploring, and you let his silence spur you on. You don’t say anything as you begin to map his features out with your fingertips, and you can feel his eyes on you the entire time. The high of his cheekbones, the beauty mark on the very edge of his nose; his mouth, lips softly parting as you brush over them, barely noticing the breath he’s holding as you do.

“You are so beautiful,” is what finally breaks the silence. “I think about you and how beautiful you are all the time.” It’s you that says it, and it takes you a second to register that you said it out loud. You vaguely register an alarm going off in your brain, a loud fuck! Fuck! Fuck! in quick succession, but you don’t take it back, because it’s true.

Mingyu blinks, staring back at you for a few moments before he finally looks away. 

“Thank you,” he says as he grasps onto your wrists to pull your hands away from his face. “And you’re drunk.”

“Both of these things can be true,” you quip, and he lets out a laugh at that. 

“Come on, brush your teeth. I’m not doing that part for you.”

A week passes, and you’re not avoiding Mingyu, per se, but you’re not not avoiding him, either. 

The morning after your slip-up, when you wake up sober and embarrassed, you think maybe you’ve fucked up your friendship for good. You get a text from him, explaining that he’d gone to the gym and that he’d text you later, and all seems relatively normal — everything except for the fact that you’d blatantly ogled him and called him beautiful to his face the night before. He doesn’t say anything else about it. 

Throughout the week, his texts seem to be coming in slower and fewer, though you imagine that might have something to do with the short and accidentally-on-purpose delayed responses from you. He hasn’t asked, and you’re grateful. Thankfully, your work had actually been a welcome distraction in the daytime since you were rapidly approaching a deadline. You had only needed to fill your evenings so that you weren’t thinking about him. Today is Friday though, and that means another work week is over — and another holiday festivity is waiting for you at Seokmin’s. 

Unfortunately, your feelings for one of your closest friends are waiting for you there, too. 

You don’t know if it’s better or worse that Mingyu is already a few drinks deep when you arrive.

He greets you at the door as if the place is his own, ushering you in before pulling you in for a bone-crushing hug. You sink into him, eyes squeezing shut briefly before he pulls away, eyes bright as he holds you by the biceps.

“Hi!” He beams. “I missed you.”

That thing in your chest shifts and jumps around as he smiles at you. You are my favourite person in the entire world, you think. And I have no idea what to do about it. 

“I missed you, too.”

You had wondered if Mingyu would notice the space you’d taken from him over the week, the space you’d needed to try and gather your feelings, but if he had, he doesn’t show it. He’s just Mingyu, who stays close to you the whole night while remaining the life of the party. Tonight, he doesn’t comment when you don’t return his physical touches or flirtations. You wonder if it’s because of the alcohol or just how excited he is at the idea of Christmas being so close — because Mingyu usually notices everything, especially when it comes to you.

You finally get a reprieve when he’s called into the kitchen to help clean up a spill, and you let out a sigh as you sink further into the couch cushions. You would never have the heart to ask him for the space you need, not when you know how affectionate he always is, but at least you can breathe a little right now. He hasn’t said a word all night about last weekend, and you’re not sure if that’s a good or bad thing. 

“Gyu said you had a busy week. You okay?”

You’re startled when Seokmin plops down next to you. 

“Yeah,” you affirm, smiling tiredly over at your friend. “But the project is finally over now.”

“Congrats!” Seokmin lifts his glass in a toast, and you lift your wine glass to clink it with his. His eyebrows furrow as he eyes your drink. “Isn’t that the exact same amount of wine you had an hour ago?”

“No.”

You’ve never been a good liar. 

“What’s up? You don’t have to drink it if you don’t want it, obviously. No sober shame here.”

You laugh at that. “Yeah, thanks, Seok. I know.”

He continues to look at you, and you wish this was one of those times that Seokmin decided to let something go, but you’re not so lucky. Curse him for loving his people so much. 

“You sure everything’s okay?”

You get distracted when your eyes catch a glimpse of Mingyu as he pops his head out of the kitchen to call for Seungcheol, and they linger on the doorframe long after he’s gone. 

“Ah.”

“Hm?” You turn back to Seokmin, cheeks flushing at being caught.

Instead of teasing like you’d expected, Seokmin’s smile is gentle. “You should tell him.”

You almost drop your wine. “Seokmin—“

You don’t get a chance to say anything else because Mingyu reappears over the back of the couch, his arms lazily hanging around Seokmin’s shoulders as he rests his cheek on the other boy’s head. 

“Can we go home? I’m tired,” he pouts.

You don’t hesitate for a second.

You stand up with a nod, all wariness from the moment in your bathroom last weekend flying out the window as you take his hand. Because this is what the two of you do. He takes care of you, and you take care of him. No questions asked.

“Bye, Seok,” you offer, and he sends you another smile as he lifts his glass. “Thanks for hosting.” He glances between the two of you, at your joined hands, and you shrug with a sad smile before turning to leave.

The walk to Mingyu’s from Seokmin’s isn’t very long. It’s cold, but you’ll manage. You feel warm all over from the way he refuses to let go of your hand, anyway.

“I love Christmas.”

You smile over at Mingyu, who’s been fairly quiet since you left Seokmin’s apartment. 

“I know.” You squeeze the hand he has attached to yours, and he smiles back. You ignore the ache in your chest at the sight of it.

It’s quiet for another few minutes as you walk slowly down the sidewalk before he speaks again, pulling you to a stop and catching you entirely off guard with his words.

“What does Santa say to Mrs. Claus when she dresses up nice?”

You hold back a laugh. “What does he say, Gyu? Tell me.”

He giggles, and then with a wiggle of his eyebrows, he leans in close and he says, “‘Ho ho ho-ly shit, you look good’.”

“Incredible. Great joke.” You tug on his hand, hoping he’ll decide to keep following you — because you’re not getting his ass anywhere without him wanting to go — but he plants his feet even more and shakes his head.

“Wait,” he whines, “hang on. I’m Santa!”

You snort. “Of course you are,” you try to appease, gesturing for him to start walking. To your relief, he finally takes a few steps, but his hold on your hand only gets tighter. 

“No,” he pouts, and you almost groan as he pulls you to a stop again. “I mean, I’m Santa in this story! And you’re Mrs. Claus!”

“Gyu, I’m not following. And it’s cold—“

“‘Ho ho ho-ly shit, you look good’,” he repeats the punchline, but this time, he uses his free hand to emphasize your outfit. “Do you get it now? I’m Santa and I’m saying that to you!”

You blink as you process. A pickup line?

All night, you’d managed to avoid… this, for the most part, because people were around and he was busy. Now, it’s just the two of you. Your body feels warm all over at the silly flirtation, at the insinuation, and you’re not sure how to respond. You don’t even get a chance to open your mouth, though, before he’s speaking again. 

“I don’t care what Santa says… you’re at the top of my nice list.” He winks, pulling you in closer to him so quickly that you stumble a little. It’s freezing outside, but you suddenly feel far too warm. 

“Can we please go home?”

Mingyu begins to giggle, and you half think he’s going to kiss you as he leans in. Then his forehead is falling into the crook of your shoulder, laughing into your scarf, arms sliding around your middle. You can’t do anything but hug him back while he calms down, your cheeks burning, until he stands up straight again and nods, smile still on his lips.

“I’m sleepy.”

You don’t know how you make it the rest of the way, but you do. When you arrive, you head into the bathroom to try and compose yourself.

“Hey!” Mingyu says abruptly, startling you when you exit his bathroom. He’s got his phone in his hands and he squints down at it, giggling to himself before meeting your expectant gaze. “Are you the Grinch?”

You blink. “Pardon?” 

“Because you’ve stolen my heart.”

You groan, ignoring the tingling feeling that shoots through your entire body at the stupid line. “Get changed,” you order, turning around to give him — and yourself — some space. “Where the hell are you getting these from?”

“From my brain,” he attempts. When you don’t say anything, he admits, “from Soonyoung.”

“Can you tell Soonyoung to shut up so we can go to sleep?”

“We?” 

You turn back in surprise to find him already in his bed, sheets pulled up around his waist. He’s beaming.

“Yeah,” you stammer, “you in here and me out there.” You jut your thumb in the direction of the living room, and Mingyu pouts again. 

“Oh. Well, hang out with me in here for a bit longer, then.”

“Fine. Fifteen minutes.” You cave, moving to sit next to him on the bed, leaving as much space between you as you can. 

Mingyu isn’t having any of it, though, as he rolls over and snuggles into your side. He holds up his phone, giggling, canines on full display as he wiggles his brows, before he says, “Mind if we take a picture? I need to show Santa exactly what I want for Christmas.”

“Remind me to kill Soonyoung for this.”

“Rude.” Mingyu is suddenly pouting, the change so quick that it takes you a second to process. “I asked him to send them. I wanted to tell them to you.”

Oh.

“I’m going to go to sleep,” is what you respond with, praying that he doesn’t notice how flushed your cheeks are as you stand up.

He catches you by surprise though, his fingers reaching for yours as he speaks, gently closing around them in an attempt to keep you close. “How come you won’t talk to me about it?”

You tilt your head in question. “Hm? Talk to you about what, Gyu?” 

His eyebrows furrow, and his frown deepens. With a tug, he’s pulled you back onto the bed next to him, his arm thrown over your legs as he presses his face into your side. You let yourself tangle your fingers in his hair, just one more time.

“This,” he murmurs, squeezing you gently on your thigh.

“Huh?”

You can feel it when he hums against you. “Us.”

Your hand stills its motions against his scalp, and the blood rushes to your ears.

“I’ve given you so much space,” he continues, his voice so sad that your heart sinks even lower. “And I don’t know what else to do.” 

“Mingyu—“

“Do you like me?” He interrupts, sitting up abruptly. His honey eyes are piercing as he asks it, as he delves as deep into your soul as he can go. You can tell he’s sobered up quite a bit as he looks at you, as he waits for your answer. 

“Yeah, I do,” you finally say. It’s quiet, soft, but he hears you.

Mingyu tilts his head, voice low as he presses on. “And do you really think I’m beautiful?”

You feel your cheeks flush even deeper. “You are.” 

Mingyu sits back, shoulders suddenly deflating. “Then why won’t you talk to me about it? Why do you keep it to yourself?” He looks away before he adds, quietly, “I don’t want to keep it to myself anymore.” 

His name comes out in a whisper. “Mingyu…”

He sighs, falling back down onto his bed and throwing an arm over his eyes. “Y/N,” he mumbles back.

You’re frozen. Your mind is racing, heart stumbling over itself as you search for the right words. You can’t find them. “Goodnight,” you say softly.

Mingyu nods, but he doesn’t look at you again as he responds, rolling over and away from you. “Goodnight.”

Needless to say, you don’t sleep very well.

Y/N [9:13am]: morning

Y/N [9:13am]: I had to go home to prepare for Jeonghan’s party. I didn’t want to wake you up 

Gyu [9:47am]: you should have woken me up.

Gyu [9:52am]: I’ll see you there 

You’re a bundle of nerves when you reach Jeonghan’s, every nerve standing on edge as you try and prepare yourself to see Mingyu. You know that tonight is the night – you can’t ignore what’s happening, not when he means so much. 

You greet the rest of your friends, trying to play it cool. You follow Chan into the apartment and to the table, freezing when you catch sight of Mingyu. He’s got on an ugly, green Christmas sweater with bells attached, and his hair is gently falling across his forehead as he chats to Jeonghan. Everyone turns as you walk in, but your eyes can do nothing but find him first. All he does when he sees you is raise his glass in your direction in acknowledgement, before he’s turning back to his conversation. It hurts, but you can’t say you don’t deserve it. 

I don’t want to keep it to myself anymore. 

His words replay in your mind over dinner and during the entire movie afterwards, where you happen to somehow be sat across from and beside anyone but Mingyu. It’s funny, you think, how you’re finally ready to face this, and you can’t even get close to him tonight. 

The entire night, you can feel him watching you from across the room. Every time you look back, he just smiles a bit and looks away. He doesn’t go out of his way to try to come find you, and you can’t say that doesn’t hurt. Should you have stayed this morning? Should you have talked about it? Probably.

You miss him, but he’s in the same room. 

I don’t want to keep it to myself anymore. 

You know you have to be the one to initiate this time – you know that he was vulnerable with you yesterday. It’s your turn now.

When the movie ends, Mingyu is the first to start cleaning up. You follow him into the kitchen, ignoring the stares from your friends as you practically trip over yourself to get to him. 

“Mingyu.”

He turns around from where he’s placing dishes in the sink in surprise. “Hey.”

You take a deep breath, debating starting with small talk – but you can’t do it. “Will you come outside with me?”

His hands stop halfway to the sink when you blurt the words out, abrupt, and you hold your breath. You don’t know if you’re imagining how tense he is. You hate this. You’re sure you’re about to be sick when he doesn’t respond for a moment, before he nods and dries his hands off on a towel. 

“Yeah. Let’s go.”

When you step outside, the awkward silence continues. Then the two of you are speaking at once.

“Mingyu, I need to—“

“We should—“

You let out a nervous laugh, biting down on your lip, and gesture for him to go first. He looks down, kicking at the ground with his boot, but your eyes are rooted to his face. Snowflakes are getting stuck in his hair as they fall, his lip drawn between his teeth, and you can’t look away. 

“Did you mean what you said last night?”

Your heart leaps into your throat. “I was the sober one, Gyu. Of course I do.” you try to joke to lighten the mood, but he doesn’t take the bait. 

“Did you say it just to shut me up, then?” His eyes fly to yours again, piercing. He’s tense, jaw clenched as he waits, and your stomach flips.

“Why would I do that, Mingyu?” 

He shrugs. Then he shoves his hands into his pockets, the bells on his ugly Christmas sweater chiming as he does, and you’d laugh if you didn’t instantly recognize his reaction for what it is: a defence mechanism. A defence mechanism to protect him from you. You can practically feel your heart begin to shatter.

“If you meant it,” he says, voice soft and low, “then say it again.” 

“Mingyu—“

You’re caught by surprise when he takes a step forward, cutting you off as he says, “I like you, and I need you to say it back right now if you meant what you said. If you don’t, I’ll never bring it up again, but I’m not going to keep guessing how you feel about me.”

“Of course I meant it.” The words come out so quickly, so desperately that you stumble over them a little. “I really, really like you, Mingyu. So much that I feel sick to my stomach about it sometimes.”

Another step closer. “So why did you leave this morning?” He doesn’t sound angry anymore. His voice is soft, almost uncertain. It’s you that closes the final step.

Your arms wrap around his waist and you pull him in tight, face muffled against his coat as you murmur, “I’m terrified about what this means for us.”

He moves back just enough to see you, hands finding your face. “What are you so scared of?” 

“I don’t know.”

“I like you,” he says again, eyes intent on yours. Your eyes flutter shut as he leans forward to rest his forehead against yours. “And you like me.” 

You nod, your hands lifting to rest on his chest. “Yeah,” you whisper.

“I know you better than anyone else.”

You open your eyes, leaning back so that you can look at him this time. “You’re my favourite person in the world,” you say, and you watch as his smile begins to grow. You feel all sorts of giddy, fingers grasping the material of his coat tighter as he beams down at you.

“Yeah?” He teases, and your eyes fly to his mouth.

“Mhm.”

His expression grows serious again, eyes flickering across your face as he asks, “Do you want to give this a shot, then?”

You hope the kiss you press to his lips answers his question well enough. 

A/N: please please please reblog if you liked! it's what us writers rely on :)

TAGLIST: @gyuminusone @minisugakoobies @starsstuddedsky @hopeinthebox @tae-bebe @eoieopda @savventeen @wqnwoos

Message me if you want to be added to the permanent taglist!

[lucrezianoin]

So one of my mutual on twitter was saying that it seems like in Western animated shows (a part from a general lack of queer romances) FF romances have higher numbers than MM. Because I wanted to check, I made a list so I thought it would be nice to share both FF and MM romances in Western animation, so people know where to find them!! FF ships are here.

Most of these are canon and main ships, but sadly there is truly a lack of number compared to FF ships, and I hate when the pictures number is unbalanced, which is why I added the last four, you can see I added a question mark on some of them so I will explain in the description.

There will be SPOILERS (especially for: Did they kiss? Did they end up together?)

In order (top to bottom, left to right):

Lacklon and Roland (Dragon Age Absolution): Lacklon and Roland are both main characters in this one season show, unsure yet if we will have a second season. They have a flirting/teasing relationship through the whole show which ends up with them kissing (so yes, they do kiss!). They are implied to stay together as they also discuss what they will do after the mission!

Ballister and Ambrosius (Nimona): This is an animated movie, and Ballister is a protagonist and Ambrosius a main character. They are ex-boyfriends turned enemies and then reconcociling with an enemies-to-lovers once more! Do they kiss? Yes! They also have a happy ending and they are together.

Runaan and Ethari (The Dragon Prince): Runaan and Ethari are both secondary characters. They are already in a relationship when they appear (together and raising a child), mostly shown in the comics and through flashbacks (where yes, they do kiss!). They are separated from most of the show as Runaan is trapped in a sort of prison since S1. In S6 Runaan is finally freed, and S7 will be the last season of the show so I fully expect them to be reunited. The protagonist of the show (Rayla) is their adopted daughter.

Blitz and Stolas (Helluva Boss): Blitz is the protagonist of Helluva Boss and Stolas is a main character. They have an ongoing sexual casual relationship turned into real feelings, with a lot of misunderstandings about how real the feelings are/how they see each other's. Their relationship is very graphic, so yes, they do kiss, and there is sexual content. The show is still ongoing, with them finally dealing with their feelings (maybe!) after a quick break up. They are the main romance of Helluva Boss and the creator of the show confirmed they will be endgame.

Fizzarolli and Asmodeus (Helluva Boss): They both are secondary characters in Helluva Boss, with Fizzarolli probably having a bit more screentime than Asmodeus. They are already in a loving relationship when introduced, and have two full episodes also dedicated to them and their romance.

Gary Prince and Marshall Lee (Fionna and Cake): Fionna and Cake is an AU of Adventure time, so this is the genderbend version of Bubbline set in a modern Fionna and Cake setting. Only one season of Fionna and Cake is out, and I have yet to watch it, but I know they date through the whole season and become boyfriends. Do they kiss? Yes! A new season is set to start in the future.

Korvo and Terry (Solar Opposites): This is another ongoing show with a sixth season coming out. Terry and Korvo are the two protagonists, and they start as colleagues/mission partners and progress into a romance. As I have not watched the show, I am unsure how the pace is, but I know that yes, they do kiss and then they marry and become husbands in S5!

Barney and Logan (Dead End paranormal park): Another show I did not watch but I did watch their scenes on youtube! Barney is the protagonist and he is a trans man (and gay) and Logan (also called Logs) is one of the main characters. The show has only two seasons before being cancelled. Barney and Logan meet in the show, and Barney is immediately attracked to him. Do they kiss? Yes!

Benson and Troy (Kipo and the Age of Wonderbeasts): The show has three seasons and is complete. Benson is part of the main cast and Troy a secondary character and appears in all three seasons. They start to date in season 3. Do they kiss? Yes!

Kaldur'ahm and Wyynde (Young Justice): This is a complete four season DC show. Kaldur'ahm is Aqualad and one of the protagonists. If you checked my FF romances post you know I am not familiar with DC, and it was pretty hard to find information. From what I can tell, Wyynde appears in S3 and S4 and they are already in an established relationship.

Steve and Benji (Q Force): The show was one season and then it was cancelled. Steve is the protagonist and Benji is a secondary character. They meet in the show itself, start dating and seems to have a happy ending even if the show was cancelled. Do they kiss? Yes!

NOT CANON

Angel Dust and Husk (Hazbin Hotel): The show only has one season out, so I think this might fall into the category of "Will they? Maybe? Looks promising!". They are both main characters, and Angel Dust often flirts with Husk. At least from Angel Dust's side there seems to be both attraction and affection. We will have to see!

Soren and Corvus (The Dragon Prince): The last season will release soon, and I think this ship is a "Who knows, maybe... we'll see" category. The Dragon Prince already has a M/M ship, so if this is meant to be they would not shy away from it. The two characters meet pretty early in the show, with Soren being one of the main cast while Corvus a secondary character. There are some interviews from the creators that seem to confirm this will be the direction. I guess we will see!

Jayce and Viktor (Arcane): This is more in a "Interpret it your own way" category I guess. It heavily relies on tropes used in other popular queer-interpreted shows (copying the whole of Magic Madoka's very popular cosmic scene). Creators of the show seems to be on different sides of it, with some saying they have a brotherly bond and the ship cannot happen because Viktor is asexual (misunderstanding asexuality and spreading acephobia at the same time), other saying that the bond was never written as romantic but they can see it as a possibility after seeing how the animation studio decided to write them. The ship heavily leans on "only you can save me"/"only you in all timelines and possibilities", and it ends with both characters dying/disappearing and cosmically linked. So I guess we will see if they will be left "in the brace of the arcane" or if they will be revisited.

MEH

Shiro and Curtis (Voltron): I am sorry, I said I would only post main ships, and this is not it. But it felt wrong to exclude given I posted a few "fanon maybe will be canon" ships, and Shito is one of the protagonists. Still, this is a lazy case of "let's give him a random character so he can marry and kiss him at the last minute". I would hardly consider Curtis a character at all.

FF SHIPS HERE

[katsona-the-katsequel]

Persona Fun Facts Pt. 2

Everyone seemed to like the last entry so here's the sequel. Reminder that all these facts were taken from Atlus' fanbooks and novels (and some even from the Persona Stalker Club).

Another reason Mitsuru worried about Minato was because he had a tight schedule, was pale, and never complained about anything nor mentioned if something was bothering him 🥺

Iwai likes to watch reruns of old Western films (I wonder what's his favorite movie).

Ryuji's mother has the personality of a loud, older sister.

Lisa knows how to snowboard.

The necktie Adachi is wearing is probably Dojima's.

Shiho is "drawn to what she doesn't have".

If he won 700 million yen, Akechi would travel the world.

Tatsuya's handwriting is shit.

In his briefcase, Akechi carries a set of student supplies, food, water, and free samples of sweets and cosmetics people give him.

Yu was the type of person who wanted to be seen as wise beyond his years and more of an adult than he really was. He grew out of it by the end of the game by becoming an actually mature person.

Chihaya redesigns clothes.

The first thing Ulala did after realizing her ex was scamming her was call Maya to a restaurant where they got drinks.

Yusuke would be okay with crossdressing if he felt it would help him discover the secret of beauty.

Junes wages are 690 yen per hour for high school students and 900 yen per hour for the rest.

Jin was the member of Strega in charge of raising funds and taking care of meals.

Maruki is aware of the relationship between food and mental health, so he always tries to eat a balanced diet (with cheap ingredients that won't affect his mental health by being a financial burden).

Yukari's mother, Risako, was financially blessed and came from a good family associated with the Kirijo Group.

The Shiroganes have a butler named Yakushiji who has served them for three generations. He, along with Grandpa Shirogane, was Naoto's main caretaker growing up.

The place where Ken's house used to be is now a parking lot.

Junpei's father failed in business.

Akechi's ideal type of lover is "someone who can give [him] space".

Dojima bought Nanako's clothes at Junes.

Maya always keeps a can of crab in her purse... that's her lunch at work. 😔

Futaba is more specific when it comes to her ideal lover. I'm just going to copy and paste here: "Their specs must be just as follows: must be more of an indoors person more than an outdoors one, won’t barge selfishly into people’s room to clean without the owner’s consent, old fashioned romantic and can sing all the theme songs of Neo Featherman."

Yosuke and Kanji aren't the only ones who dye their hair. Chie also dyes hers.

Kandori sealed his deal with Nyarly by strangling his lover/coworker, Mayo Miyashita, to death. He seemed kind of in a trance while he did so (a lot was from Mayo's POV), so it's up to you to decide how much agency he had in that murder.

Members of Strega don't even know their real names (this won't deter me from the "Chidori is Natsumi's daughter theory"). They also steal household goods and clothes during the night.

Elly has twin sisters.

I can't remember if I included this one in the last post, but here it goes again. After Makoto pointed out how difficult taking care of lobsters would be, Yusuke ate them with tears in his eyes.

[punishereditz]

7 Years

Pairing: Jake Seresin x f!reader

Warnings: None. Just a lot of fluff and nerdy stuff. Childhood best friends to lovers. Do not copy!

AN: I absolutely love incorporating songs with my stories and I have this song on my playlist, and I got this idea. I have been at a terrible writer's block, but luckily, I was able to get this story done just in time for Valentine's.

Summary: All the times Jake asked you to marry him and all the times you turned him down... until one day it was different.

~

7 years old.

Jake runed through the yard and back to the tree house even though his mother specifically told him not to run. He had quickly climbed up, plates in hand. He sat by you, grin wide, you could tell he was up to no good like he usual his. The question was what was he is up to now?

His legs swinged as he happily ate the sandwich his mom made him for lunch, and you ate yours that she made for you. Luckily that day, she let you eat outside.

He giggled and smiled next to you, not being able to contain himself. He turned to you. "Will you marry me?" He finally said what has been on his mind.

You gave him a strange look as he held his arm out. Flower in hand. He patiently waited for an answer from you.

"No! We're to young." You spoke as if it was the most obvious thing.

His arm fell to his side, and before his smile could fall, he quickly snapped back with confidence, "But you will one day."

"No way Jake!" You shook your head and your refusal only made Jake want it more. Even if it would be a challenge, it was nothing he couldn't figure out. Jake knew right there and then that you were going to be his girl one day. He is going to stop at nothing until you are his.

11 years old.

Jake had searched the entire house, and there was no sight of you. After asking your mom, he made his way to the barn in hopes he would find you there. And he did.

He made his way to the top of the hay-bales where you sat up high. Head down in your notebook. He peaked his head over your shoulder. Trying to see what it is your drawing now.

"Whatcha drawing?" He asked.

"A cowboy Jedi." You answered without looking up at him. To focused on the shading, you were doing.

"A cowboy Jedi?" He repeated your words.

You turned the notebook so he could see it better. Using the pencil to point out each detail to him, explaining it. "See?"

He looked down at the western style Jedi that you have been working on for no telling how long. He only smiled widely at you. He didn't understand your obsession with all those Star Wars movies, but he knew it made you happy and he loves seeing you get all excited about something.

Looking away from the drawing, he reaches into his pocket, pulling out a ring-pop, he held it out to you. "Will you marry me now?"

You laughed at him. Looking at him, then the candy. "Um... no. Nice try though." You smiled at him as you turned him down.

He let his head fall back, sighing. "I really thought the ring-pop would work. How could you say no to a ring-pop?" He said dead seriously, and you died of laughter.

"Will it make you feel better if I take it?" You somehow managed to speak through giggles. He said nothing as he handed it to you. His smile growing as he watched you go back to your own little world you have created in your notebook. You will be mine one day, He thought to himself.

18 years old.

Jake knocked on your bedroom door. Shortly after, you peaked your head out, then you fully opened the door for him to come in. Allowing him to see the mess you are. Your hair is tied up in a knot on top of your head. Mascara running down your cheeks and you wear an oversized shirt that swallows you whole.

You crawled back into bed, holding a pillow tight to your chest. Jake sat at the edge of the bed. Sitting two bags in front of you. He hated seeing you like this. It's rare for you to be this upset. Even when your sad, you usually still had a smile on your face, but that night you only frowned.

He pulls all the candy out of the bag. Trying to focus on cheering you up and not his anger. If you didn't ask him to come over when you called, he would have gone straight to the guy's house that did this to you. The guy you have been going out with standing you up for another girl.

"I got your favorites." He finally spoke. Handing you a bag of milky-ways. He reached into the second bag, pulling out a cd. He smiled as he handed it to you.

You gasped, eyes growing wide as you looked down at the Limp Bizkit's greatest hits cd. "Where did you find this? It's been sold out at every place I've checked."

"Well, a magician never tells his secrets." You roll your eyes. Tossing the pillow at him. He laughs.

"I'm sorry." He suddenly speaks. "You didn't deserve that." His voice is comforting. Soft. It catches you off guard. Tears threatening to fall. You stand up. Walking over to his side. As if he read your mind, he wraps you up in his arms. Holding you tightly. He gives you the comfort you need.

"You know... you wouldn't have to deal with assholes like him if you were married to me." You slap his chest.

"But then I would be married to an asshole- that I would never get to see."

"That's true..." He trails off.

"And before you ask, no." You speak. Knowing he will ask. And you know your answer. You're not dare going to say yes because you know once he joins the Navy, you will never get to see him.

"Do you really have to leave tomorrow?" Your voice cracks. Your terrified for him. But you won't let him know just how scared you are.

"I do, sweetheart." He fights off the knot that grows in his throat as he looks into your pain filled eyes.

"Well... may the force be with you." He chuckles.

"And may the force be with you." He puts up a smile for you. He wants to pull out the little round box with the ring he bought, get on one knee and beg you to marry him, but before he could even ask, you said no. And that's fine. He plans to try again.

35 years old. Presents day.

Jake's not paying one bit of attention to the movie. He looks down at his girlfriend in awe. You're laying against his chest, his arms wrapped around you. He watches carefully as your eyes light up and your smile grows as you watch A New Hope.

He's never cared for the movies but yet he knows everything about them because of you. He is willing to suffer for two hours just because he knows you love them so much. Even though you have seen the movies thousands of times, you still squeal and squirm in excitement when a part you love happens, and that's what he loves to see.

He loves his metalhead, Star Wars, comic book loving, nerd of a girlfriend. You're still the exact same person you were when you were 7. Even though you two have been dating for three years now, he is still in shock that he got you. That you are his and he is yours. He jokingly mentioned dating one night, and you said yes. Completely confusing the hell out of him. But he quickly pulled it together and asked you out. You've been dating ever since. All his dreams have come true. And yours to. Jake's a fighter pilot for the US Navy, a job he loves, and is dating the woman he has been in love with for his entire life. Things couldn't be better.

While Jake was off in the Navy, you were working your ass off in college, getting a degree in art. Now you're a comic book artist, dating your childhood best friend. Everything is perfect. But Jake knows a way it could be even more perfect. He reaches into the pocket of his sweatpants. Pulling out the death star ring box he has had since he was eighteen.

He sits it on your leg. Not saying a word. You pick it up and he tenses under you. You open it. Looking at the two sliver bands. You pick up the smaller one, noticing the words 'I know' printed on the inside. You grab the other ring, and it says, 'I love you'. You immediately realize that he printed what Leia said to Han in the rings. Your heart sinks, your throat tightening and tears coming to your eyes. The rings are Stars Wars, and the box is as well. Even though he doesn't like it, he did it for you.

Tears fall from your eyes, and he looks at you confused. You hand him your ring, looking into those emerald eyes. "Yes." You say softly.

He didn't think it was even possible for his body to tense even more, but it does. He moves his head back to look at you better. His eyebrows furrowing.

You chuckle, "Don't make me change my mind." You tease. He clears his throat. Breathing deeply. His body starts to relax as he takes your hand in his. Sliding the ring onto your finger. Before you can say anything, he smashes his lips onto yours. His hold on you tightening. Holding you impossibly close to him.

You finally pull away from him to catch your breath. Looking into his eyes, tears threatening to fall. "Mrs. Seresin... It's got a ring to it." His words make your smile grow. He holds and loves you the rest of the night. Never letting go of you.

[sailormew4]

Happy International Lesbian Day!

Here are some of my favorite Sapphic Ships and awards to them. (Reblog and add your favorite sapphic ship with your own award to them)

Lumity! Congrats for being one of the few Sapphic Ships that ended up being Canon with No Margin to Deny It. You get the Fuck Disney Award!

Anthy and Utena for being the THEE Yuri Ship for Anime. Creating so many tropes as well. Also for being the start of Pink x Purple Ship for me. You get the Trope Starter Award

Bubbline! For being the Slowest Queer Coded Turn Canon in Western Animation. Award for "My Ex Keeps Missing Me, But Her Aim Is Getting Better!"

TogaChako! Congrats for breaking the internet this past weekend. Award for Making Me Scream, Cry, and Throw Up Everytime I See You (I will make them Canon every chance I get in fics)

Catradora! Congrats for being my introduction to Childhood Friends to Enemies to Lovers Ship (this definitely didn't affect my future ships at all). Award for Winning a War with Gay Love!

HaruMichi! Congrats for finally having your love story shown without censors for western audiences. You get the "And Censorship Will Call Them..." Award

Korrasami! Congrats on jump-starting Sapphic (and maybe even LGBT relationships) in Western animation. We salute you! You get the Hand Hold as an I Love You Award

And here's a surprise contender. ZakuMint from Tokyo Mew Mew. You gave the Vibes in 2000s and now you're fully Gay Coded Congrats! You get the Upgrades People Upgrades Award!

It's not as surprising but needs to be mentioned. But here's a Liana and Alexa from Barbie and the Diamond Castle with the award of "Baby's First Gay Coded Movie"

MadoHomu for being my first Doomed Yuri Ship... pray for their safety in the next movie. You get the "Was It Casual" Award.

Harlivy for showing that Men (specifically men like Joker) ain't shit and healing from toxic relationships. You get the Award also for "Be Gay, Do Crimes"

Sashannarcy: To show you what's better than one girlfriend? TWO Girlfriends. You get the "She Has Two Hands" Award

And we'll be closing out with Rupphire! The first Sapphic Wedding I watched on screen. May you live as Garnet forever happily!

And Honorable Mention to Kugisaki Nobara! For being the Most Lesbian of Lesbian to the point where I knew to multiship her with Maki, Mai, and many more. You get the award of "Most Girlfriends" Award

Along with Velma Dinkley who had the Best Lesbian Coded to Canon Lesbian Development. Shout Out to being played by Lesbian Jesus Hayley Kiyoko in a live action!

[waddledeedee]

MHA Characters and their Favorite (Western) Romance Movies!

Doing this for funsies! :) let me know if anyone wants a part 2 I'll more than welcome keep going HAHAHAHA

Kendo is DEFINITELY an enemies to lovers girlie, I just know Kat is her IT girl and she aspires to be her I don't make this up people! Her and the class-b girlies always have romance movie binges together and gush over them like crazyyyy (they are all single romantics) (and don't think the boys in their class are just down bad asf for all of them) (anyways!)

This is an American staple you guys I know this man appreciates the hell out of this movie (more for the history / ship itself and less so for the romance) (this may or may not be my favorite movie of all time but I'm totally not projecting here). Anyways, he definitely sits Izuku down to watch this with him one night after Izuku insisted that Toshinori choose the movie for once! (because dadmight and his son totally have ritual movie nights kk)

chat I'm pissing my pants right now DID I LIEEEEEEEEEEEEE (unironically he would enjoy the fuck out of this movie he would act like he fucking hates it as if he doesn't shut up and lock in as soon as the plot gets going oh my god katsuki i know what you are)

this is HER movie ok!!! I just know she went through the motions while watching this rollercoaster of a story unfold and she's obssessed with the vocals and the dark depiction of fame it's one of her favorites guaranteed <3

[beomcoups]

Now that’s 90′s- A Seventeen Collab

Hosted by @beomcoups​ and @mingsolo​​

Drive in theaters... mall hopping on the weekends... confessing your watching TRL and Daria on MTV. The 90s were all about being fresh, nostalgic and keeping it real. Who better to star in this 90′s collab other than SVT?  Below are the authors that are going to be taking us through the decade, one Seventeen boy at a time. 

S. Coups

→ Cry-Baby by @duhnova

→ pairing: biker!choi seungcheol x fem!reader

→ genre: fluff, angst, opposites attract, drama, kind of college au, smut

→ summary: decked out in leather and riding a harley davidson like he’s got business with the devil, choi seungcheol was the talk of your small town. everyone looked down on him and when you come home for the first time since starting uni you find it hard to believe that the pouty lipped kid you tossed off the merry-go-round when you were six was some slick haired delinquent. → rating: 18+

Jeonghan

→ [he Emperor and I] by @flurrys-creativity

→ pairing: emperor!Jeonghan x Reader

→ genre:  the king and I au, royal au, teacher au, strangers to ? au

→ summary: Taking on a job as a teacher in a different country already had its own problems, but becoming the teacher of the emperor himself seemed to have a whole lot of extra struggles.

→ rating: pg-13

Joshua

→ [Stop, Kiss] by @hobeemin

→ pairing: joshua hong x poc!(f) reader

→ genre: romance, angst, drama, fluff, college au, 90s au (based on Can’t Hardly Wait)

→ summary: joshua wasn’t what you called popular back in high school, in fact, he was practically invisible. what happens when he runs into his childhood crush in college after growing into his looks? awhole lot of shenanigans ensue.

→ rating: 18+

Jun

→ Ugh! As If!  by @ wongyuseokie ​ → pairing: College Student Junhui x Female Reader

→ genre: established relationship, pwp, fluff, smut

→ summary: Your boyfriend decided to take you into a drive-in movie for date night, only problem? He looks scrumptious, and now your task is to make sure he knows just how good he looks, without the others knowing.

→ rating: 18+ 

Hoshi

→ [Caller #17] by @beomcoups​​

→ pairing: jock!Hoshi x college radio dj!reader (femme)

→ genre: 90’s au. strangers to lovers au, fluff, angst,

→ summary: You could name 10 things that you hate about him easily. But when you bond together over music, those things slowly turn into love instead.

→ rating: 18+

Wonwoo

→ [PAUSE + PLAY] by @mingsolo​​

→ pairing: wonwoo x gn!reader

→ genre: 90s au, fluff, humor

→ summary: Your new job at the VHS store starts to get interesting when a handsome young man comes to the counter with a bunch of interesting picks.

→ rating: nc17

Woozi

→ You Drive Me Crazy (But It Feels Alright) by @wooahaeproductions​

→ pairing: Lee Jihoon x Female Reader

→ genre: angst, fluff, smut

→ summary: You and your neighbor, Jihoon used to be best friends as kids. As time passed, unfortunate events and the cliques of junior high tore the two of you apart. Several years later, you find yourselves in the same college but the two of you actively avoid each other and some people would even say you were enemies. As fate would have it, breakups lead you both to wonder if there's ever a chance to rekindle the friendship.

→ rating: 18+ read here

DK

→ 60 Billion by @onlyseokmins pt. 1 pt. 2​

→ pairing: Lee Seokmin x Female Reader

→ genre: smut, action!au, apocalyptic/post-apocalyptic!au, space western!au, enemies to comrades to lovers!au, angst, fluff

→ summary:  How did a legendary bounty promised for turning in the wasteland's most infamous outlaw transform into a sick, little inside betting joke amongst your traveling companions? Though you have no idea why they're doing it… you sure as hell don't want that very same gunslinger comrade worth sixty billion double dollars to know anything about it either — but oops — looks like he already does! Damn you and your temper, some unhelpful lip-loosening alcohol, and one no-good, sorry excuse of a preacher you sometimes think of as a friend.

→ rating: 18+

Mingyu

→ Hot Wheels by @milfgyuu​

→ pairing: Kim Mingyu x Fem!Reader

→ genre: 90's AU, Fluff, Humor, Smut

→ summary: There has been something brewing between you and your part-time co-worker (full-time hottie), Kim Mingyu. Endlessly flirting on the clock at Wheelies, making out in the back of the movie theater, rolling around in the sand with a mighty good man...no other 90's dreamboat could ever compare. 

→ rating: 18+

Minghao

→ BREAK AND RETURN by @cheolism

→ pairing: brother's-bandmate!minghao x f!reader

→ genre: 90s au, smut, fwb/fucking your brother's friend 

→ summary: last week minghao did what he thought was best and put an end to your fling. he sees you again before band practice and can't help but give in to his desires.

→ rating: 18+

Seungkwan

→ once upon a summer by @the-boy-meets-evil​

→ pairing: Seungkwan x fem!reader

→ genre: 90s!au, summer love | fluff and some angst

→ summary: Every summer kind of goes the same. The population of your usually sleepy beach town doubles and you bust your ass to make enough money to last through the slow season. But a new face blows into town like a whirlwind and he’s determined to catch your eye. Only one problem: he’s here for the summer and you’re married to this town. 

→ rating:18+

Vernon

→ Natsukashii by @flurrys-creativity​

→ pairing: Vernon x Reader (probably fem)

→ genre: Jurassic Park AU, 90s AU, acquaintances to lovers/distant friends to lovers, Fluff, Angst

→ summary: It should have been a fun weekend trip but after the boat got caught by a storm and crashed on one of the dinosaur islands, you got separated from the group. You nearly despaired until Vernon found you.

→ rating: sfw and 15+

Dino

→ Four Page Letter by @shuadotcom​​

→ pairing: Lee Chan x Fem!Reader

→ genre: Fluff, smut, mild angst

→ summary:  Chan has always been just one of your step-brother’s best friends. He’s also been in love with you for as long as everyone remembers, but you never paid him much mind - that is until you decide to return home after many years away and you see the man he’s become. He goes from being your little brother’s best friend to being the perfect man for you in a matter of months. Now the questions are who wants who more and will either of you do anything about your feelings?

→ rating: 18+

[kcokaine]

i needs to know daisuki’s entire lore..👽👽

Well he was born in zenin clan, obviously strict family so before he joined jjt he was real well behaved. He wasn’t happy about that. Then he met his girlfriend as a first year. She was very rebelious sorcerer student, special in every way from others. (Liked to dress punk, liked western music and media in general, used english slangs and watched western movies) so daisuki immediately fell in love with her wild spirit. They started dating and everything was well, daisuki became more delinquent, started getting piercings and dress like some punk cowboy, cut his hair into short wolf cut he has now. He basically based his personality on her and she taught him how to. Later he’d start breaking out of the house at late hours and breaking rules more, his family really disliked his girlfriend and since the zenins are kind of insane, his parents pretty much did everything they can to break them up. Eventually she did, thinking they are not meant to be and Daisuki didn’t take that well. It was around third year in jjt that they broke up and month later, during his depression phase Daisuki got talking w Gojo which quite helped him cuz Gojo in fourth year was already without Geto. Later Daisuki saw his ex gf with some guy, her new bf. Anger and jealousy got better of him, challenging the guy to fight (a non sorcerer) ofc his ex defended his new gf so instead daisuki and her fought. Daisuki invetably winning by shooting her right through the heart. (Powered up hollow point with cursed energy pretty much made a hole in her, it wasn’t survivable injury for sorcerer on her level) she fell to the ground and soon Daisuki regreted his choice pretty much loosing his mind at that place, coping that if he couldnt have her no one could but he still had that empathy for someone he loved unconditionally and murdered. Thats where he also discovered his passive Cursed Energy power up from shooting hearts. Before that point he was only shooting curses, sometimes through heart that gave him little to no bonuses, but killing a sorcerer made him strong enough to use his technique “divine weapon exchange” (turning his 2 desert eagles into the metalic wings) due to his base CE being low this was a significant update but at the cost of his lover’s life that he took in jealous rage. 💔

Then as years went on he graduated jjt and just kinda wandered around. Doing side hussles for money, though eventually came back to be a teacher for jjt students. Not as full time but getting to throw kids at danger and then just watch to call it teaching sounded appealing to him. Also its fun to round up buildings as an excuse of “oh well there were curses”. (He had lots of fun on the demon parade in kyoto)

[xxpukemygutsoutxx]

Mccoy Headcanons

Mccoy (TOS) x fem!reader

Bones is a simple guy who does not express his love in elaborate ways. More so he would express his love through small acts of kindness, you’re hard at work well he’d drop by to leave you a bottle of water or greeting you with a kiss on the cheek.

He seems to have a weak spot for beautiful women so expect some special treatment from him before you two are together. He would be eager to help you (he mainly just wants to spend time with you and will try to find an excuse to do that).

Masks his flirting as just professional concern ( like concerned about your health or making bigger deals out of smaller problems in life if you have a cut he’d make sure that he’d be the one to clean it and bandage it) Everyone can see right through him though especially Kirk, he likes to make fun of him. Bones will just feign ignorance though.

He’s not very in tune with his emotions so deep conversations aren’t his cup of tea, he would much rather watch some old western with you than ponder the meaning of existence. Expect to be the emotionally mature one in this relationship because he sure as hell doesn’t want his masculinity threatened. Speaking of not managing emotions well, he is also a very grumpy guy so bitchy comments are to be expected. Don’t take it personally though he does genuinely care he’s just bad at expressing it.

He reserves physical affection for when it’s just you two, PDA is not his thing. That does not mean that he won’t show you off because he’ll be the first to brag about how “He’s still got it”. 

He’s a sweet boyfriend really. He’s more traditional and would like to take the leading role in your relationship. He prefers to plan the dates and pull your chair out for you. He’s a gentleman in that sense. He invites you to his quarters regularly and he enjoys waking up to your face first thing in the morning. 

His favorite things to do with you are the mundane, drinking a cup of coffee together in the morning. He of course likes his black but if you prefer your coffee a special way he would make fun of you. He’s the kind of guy to post memes on facebook about how cool he is because he drinks black coffee and is old. 

Definitely someone you can confide in. If you ever need someone to tell you like it is, that would be him. He doesn’t sugar coat anything especially when it comes to you. He wants the best for you which means he is going to be brutally honest. If you don’t have thick skin after dating him you’ll develop it. He expects it to go both ways though he wants you to be 100% honest with him even if you think it’d hurt him. 

He jokes about his age alot but he isn’t insecure about it. I think that he would prefer to be a little older than you. In general to just be a little older and taller than you would be his ideal. It makes him feel like he is in charge (he likes to be the one who leads, he is NOT a follower!!!!!!). 

Def a big lover of old school human classics like in movies and music. Does not enjoy romcoms but would watch them with you because you like them (will roll his eyes and talk about how dumb he thinks it is though). 

He is very Lana del Rey coded literally daddy, will buy you things and hold you tight fr.

The end lol

[jadedbirch]

Well, I've seen the thing! Don't worry, I didn't pay for it. But if anyone is interested, here are my (extremely deep) thoughts about Formed Police Unit.

This is a movie that once again proves that China is incapable of subtlety when it comes to propaganda and self-promotion. Taking place in the fictitious country of "Santa Leonne", where the hard working salt-mining Proletariat has been oppressed by the two-headed monster of White Colonialism and Capitalist Greed leading to bloody uprisings, our Heroes arrive literally blazing the slogan CHINA IS HERE FOR PEACE. And it only gets sillier from here. At one point, a member of the FPU even says "Every life is equal and justice knows no borders!"

#AllLivesMatter? Sign me the fuck up 😂

I'm not going to talk about the "plot," instead I'm going to talk about how many times stuff happens to Wang Yibo's character, Yang Zhen.

(Spoilers under the cut)

1. He uses his helmet to cover a BOMB and when it blows up in his face says "I'm fine."

2. Then the vehicle he's in gets blown up and flips in the air

3. Then he gets shot

4. And blown up again

5. And then he drowns a little, but don't worry, he's still fine!

6. And then he gets a little bit tortured by some Evil Whitey.

Have I mentioned all of this happens in a typhoon?

Anyways, he obviously survives all of this because China Never Surrenders, and because his boyfriend Captain loves comrades him very much. In fact, their chemistry is so transcendent that the power of their gay love Chinese Bravery stops a sniper from fulfilling his mission of shooting the hostages they've been protecting. Long story short, Justice Knows No Borders, and therefore the good people of Santa Leonne prevail and are never bothered by evil Westerners meddling with their land ever again, or so we are left to presume.

But look, I'm sure you already know that Wang Yibo has intense chemistry with all his male costars. What I was NOT expecting was that the infamous and horrible blackface scene was COMPLETELY UNNECESSARY. They could've left it on the cutting room floor, along with poor Zhang Zehan's footage, and nothing about the plot would have been affected. It's really fucking pathetic that they chose to risk international goodwill for a 30 second nothing-burger 🤦🏻‍♀️. Get your shit together, China.

Was this movie worth watching? Honestly? Not really. But it helped to watch it with some like-minded Yibo fans who contributed much to my enjoyment with their own delightful shit talk 😂♥️.

I now leave you with this final look at the lovers comrades. Aren't they just 😍😍😍?

[sombredancer]

Recent visually beautiful and generally watchable Russian fantasy movies

(because I start forgetting they exist at all) Ironically, all of them are adaptations of books/comics.

I Am Dragon / Он — дракон (2015) This movie is a very free adaptation of the novel "The Rite" / "Ритуал" by Maryna and Serhiy Dyachenko (Марина и Сергей Дяченко). It's a reinterpreting of an ancient tale about a maiden, a hero and a dragon. I don`t like the novel because it's very postmodern, wracks the typical fairytale plot and hurts my escapist feelings by ugly reality, but the movie is pretty fairytale-ish and nice. Firstly, it is visually beautiful and represent Slavic pseudo-medieval lore the way it should have always been in Slavic fantasy.

Secondly, as a love story between a monster and a maiden, it has got A PLENTY of tropes I'm usually looking for in Chinese dramas, so I understand very well why it was pretty popular in Asia.

Thirdly, when I said it's visually beautiful I wasn't joking. The main hero is played not by an actor, but by a male model, who is shirtless all the time (and sometimes pantless) and has a very fit and good-looking body. It's something unbelievable that someone in Russia made a movie to please women's eyes! Really, it's insane!

The folk-rock band Мельница wrote an insanely beautiful song "Обряд" (The Rite) for this movie (more matched to the book plot, though), but it was never used as OST, which is a shame. The song is about a black sheep girl, who is denied by society and asks a dragon to come for her and to take her away, because the dragon is denied by this world just like her. You can listen to it here. The band also has a song "Змей" (The Wyrm) (based on Lev Gumilev's poem), which is more accurate to the plot of the movie: the wyrm kidnaps maidens to make them its wives, but they are all dying during the flight; at the end of the song a hero-knight is ready to shoot it in order to stop it. Listen to it here.

It ends with HE, which is better than the book's obscure ending, so it is pleasure for me to rewatch it till these days.

Major Grom: Plague Doctor / Майор Гром: Чумной Доктор (2021)

It is an adaptation of Russian comic series "Major Grom" by Bubble comics. I am traditionally not very happy with the source material, but it is very good reworked to be the screen play of this movie.

It's very beautifully made in terms of director's, cameraman's and screenwriter's work, which is a rare thing for Russian movies. Also, the actors are young and handsome, especially the villain, which is a rare thing not only for Russian movies, but for the current Western movies, too. It has got a lot of allusions to Russian reality and a lot of beautiful views of Saint Petersburg, the second capital of Russia and one of the most beautiful Russian cities. And it has got some unusual visual solutions that turn it into a comic it should be.

The plot revolves around a mysterious serial killer (kinda bad Batman), a black sheep police officer and Russian Mark Zuckerberg (kind of). Mark Zuckerberg is the best guy of this movie and I like him a lot! Серёёёёжа! 🧡🧡🧡

This movie wasn't popular in Russia because of political situation in the country by the moment of its release (the both sides found out in there something insulting for them and banned it), but even if it has something like that, I honestly didn't pay attention to it. It's just a nice blockbuster with a tragic and handsome villain. The villain also has got his own BL-drama (in the comics they are really lovers, it`s as obvious as it could be shown in a Russian comic).

By the way, the villain is hot, insane, ruthless, sensitive and suffering. How does he contain all of this character treats in one personality? you may ask. He doesn`t. He has dissociative identity disorder, I would answer.

I don`t know if it works by now, but some time ago you could watch this lovely movie on Netflix.

The Master and Margarita / Мастер и Маргарита (2024) This is a loose adaptation of Russian classical novel "The Master and Margarita" by Mikhail Bulgakov. I genuinely hate this book, but the adaptation reinterprets it, divides it into very interesting layers and makes it understandable and beautiful.

It`s layered, so it will probably be hard to understand what layer are we currently on if you are not familiar with the original story. The first layer is an ugly Soviet reality, the second layer is a plot of the novel that the main hero is writing, a story within a story. The third layer is the insane intertwining of the first two layers. On the reality layer the Master loses his job and freedom because of friend's denunciation and becomes star-crossed lovers with a married woman. On the novel level he meets devil, who visits Moscow by chance, and the devil gives him and his woman opportunity to live their lives being free from everything that usually tortures people IRL. Somewhere among those layers is a little plot about Jesus and Pontius Pilate.

The movie is visually beautiful. Although it feels pretty anti-Soviet, Soviet visuals of the movie are gorgeous. There were used the Stalin-times concepts of Moscow of the Future, the CGI buildings in frame came from the real architecture projects of those times. The Stalin Empire architecture style and views are typical for Moscow (but as I know, ironically, this all was shot in Saint Petersburg). It seems to me that this movie is heavily stuffed with visual allusions to the Western works: devil's escort looks like bunch of Pennywises, Margarita is Enchantress from Suicide Squad I, the scene of blood dripping is from Blade I etc. Usually, when I see it in Russian movies, it feels like plagiarism because I can recognize the reference but there is nothing except for these references . But here we have got the plot, so the allusions work as allusions and don`t irritate me.

The movie is dark, disturbing, uncomfortable. It really makes you feel as if you watch devil and his escort marching around you; they ravage, kill and destroy everything and you can only breathlessly, helplessly and in fear watch them. The German actor playing devil is insanely good. He stole the movie and I understand why it should have been named Woland (the devil's name) instead of the current movie's name. You may want to watch it, because it's very unusual in terms of plot and visuals experience, especially when you are not familiar with the book.

[eatmangoesnekkid]

I have a mostly heterosexual readership but my number of queer readers are growing exponentially by the week. I am grateful for any human soul who adores the frequency I channel from and feel expanded in any capacity by my work.

I do not try to fit it with the heterosexual community because I am not a heterosexual person in my thinking, perceiving, or feeling. I do not care to fit in with the queer community either because I don't sense myself queer. The queer community is too wounded in oppression, locked into the mortal mind, and generally moves through the world too victimized for my taste and archetypal texture, not in full ownership of their divine power and light, which can also be said for the conscious black community. I have never felt aligned with the Western word "queer" as I feel more undefinable--which means-- indigenous and rootsy, a frequency where "sexuality" wasn't rigid and had a natural range, depth, spirit, and viscosity, a primordial mother so lighthearted and sensitive to subtle energy that she could make passionate love to the universe and repair her aching knee joints with the provisional light received. There is a great gift in not defining, boxing, or organizing every part of us into a system of language. Thank you, Mother Sobonfu Some, for courageously authoring range and clarity in your divine work.

I am merely who I am, and that person, that playful, creative, dancing, beautiful, womanly spirit in female form, a medicine woman and sensual Priestess, is enough.

I have lived in a 3rd lane for most of my life because I generally do not feel inferior to anyone or any system, which assisted me in unplugging the limiting programming and dogmatic thinking from my tissues and building more real grounded confidence in myself and my unique imprint without having a whole entourage around coddling me along the way. I didn't need to be part of the "feminist" crowd. The "witch" group. The LGBTQIA crowd. The conscious Black crowd. I participated in everything that I wanted to without any labels attached to my personhood. I was free. I still am.

The more anonymous you walk around, the brighter you shine.- Mother Caroline Myss

I care deeply about what's real--true love, the brightest expression of the power of God/creation running through our bodies, lives, and experiences.

I have dedicated myself to embodying love imperfectly. I am devoted to the chaotic and vulnerable journey of living full and plump and loving innocently. And it is a journey because all the programmings and conditioning baked into my mind, body, and psyche, and even the TV shows and movies I watched in my youth, have to come undone. And it can be chaotic because you are literally letting go of everything, shifting your perceptional field, changing frequencies, growing consciousness, growing new tissues, and evolving your mind. True chaos is the structure of the divine feminine. Surrender is key.

I also care about real nourishment and lubrication/hydration. And a range of intimacies and passions. And real human emotion. And authenticity. And relaxation, playfulness, and groundedness. And truthful, thoughtful, vulnerable relationships. And regeneration.

I am a Lover Archetype through and through.

I care about how to inspire people to love themselves (their cells) better and to love other people (and the cells of other people) better. And the only way to know love is to muster the courage to move through addictions, obsessions, shadows, and other blockages to love.

My desire to always be myself and not fit in if the harmony was not truly there has also been my superpower that has kept my body ripe life force energy, that juicy love, innocence, and aliveness. It has also kept my mind sharp and clear. I was never meant to fit in. And I am willing to bet that neither were you.

—

Trust the ones who don't try to fit in.

The ones who seek to evolve into new imprints.

The ones who weave the deep magic of full body sensual explorations into practical life.

The ones who come out from the limiting programming of ancestors and heal unseen kin. The ones who harness the courage required to live their best lives.

The ones who tread through the mud of race, class, sexuality, and gender and stack river rocks as offerings to nuanced femme Gods.

The ones who do not shrink in order to make other people feel comfortable.

The ones who descend into the underworld, slough through discomforts, and come back with otherworldly solutions and next step directions.

The ones who burn with flames so red hot that their mere presence, without words or the any need to profess, illuminates.

The ones who dare to dream so big that they appear brilliantly naïve and beautifully childlike.

The ones who know that their knowledge is only a fraction of the whole truth.

The magical ones with soft strength and deep vulnerability, heat and humility, love and compassion, and drive and kindness. See them. Welcome them. Honour them. And most importantly, recognize them in you.

None of us are not supposed to do this work alone. --India Ame'ye, Author

[pennyserenade]

YOU CAN(T) ALWAYS GET WHAT YOU WANT

pairing: dieter bravo x you, dieter bravo x ex-actress!reader rating: explicit (oral sex (female receiving), fingering, pinv, unprotected sex, light dirty talk (not degrading), references to previous sexual encounters, mentions of rough sex) tags: angst, hurt/comfort, talk of drugs (weed), drug usage (weed), dieter & reader are a little toxic - i cannot lie, talk of parents  word count: 4.8k+ summary: your relationship with dieter (albeit the very loose definition of the term) has finally landed you in the tabloids. he attempts to make it up to you  a/n: unbeta’d. i don’t know what possess me when i write dieter but its very real and active right now lol. if you want to get updates on whenever i write, follow @belovedinfidels​

The weight of knowledge wears you thin.

Dieter is a tabloid on page six, the embodiment of Hollywood idiocy sided up against a woman far too young for him. Half his age? the byline reads and the bitter laugh you let out earns you a concerned glance from the old lady in front of you. In his madness, he takes you with him, right there in the middle of the grocery store. You pay eight dollars to read the shit all week, like the spurred lover you can’t claim to be.

Your devotion is too incredible, but that’s the way you are. A strange concoction of bitter and sweet. You’ve never forgotten a wrong-doing and you choke what you love with sheer force of your eagerness. Dieter doesn’t know what he wants and yet he commits himself anyway. Which is why, usually, he is good for you. His touches are seldom chaste and his presence is hardly long-term. If you think you love him, he will disappear and you will remember that you don’t–or rather, that you can’t. It’s a convenience until he makes you remember you aren’t the only thing he occupies himself with in his spare time. Then it is a dull ache in your soul and a reminder of everything you don’t have.

In anger, you fuck a stranger on Tuesday. It’s a reckless moment that is the exception, not the rule, but it feels good. Your body isn’t past expiration, you learn, not an ugly thing. It is older than the girl Dieter was with in that paper, sure, but this stranger is so attentive to it. It responds in all the right ways. You are healthy, you are wanted. There is hope for you yet.

On Thursday, half guilty for no good reason, you tell Dieter congratulations on his new television show. You watched it. You liked it. You can’t help but confess it. He calls you after and you don’t answer, still full of some random man’s want. He doesn’t text you back but he hearts the message to show you he’s really seen it.

By Friday night, he’s got you bent over his kitchen table, his body strong, masculine and warm above your own. Whoever that girl was, she isn’t anymore. He doesn’t tell you this, but you know it to be true, for he is Dieter, and Dieter is consistent in his inconsistency.

He fucks into you with ferocity and you know he is trying to amend for some of his sins. The slick, obscene sound of his cock filling you, the way he presses into your shoulder, pinning you forward into the cold, hard table, the soft, guttural moans that he empties into the air—it is a form of devotion, albeit a slightly demented version of it.

It might be a little twisted, what the two of you share. It’s not love and it’s not necessarily friendship, but it is something akin to the ritual of opening one’s palm and sharing blood with another in a fit of childlike devotion. Forever, it yells with violence, but at the end of the day it merely remains a mess only on the surface. You wonder when you will grow out of it and start doing reasonable things.

When he easies out of you, he rewards you for your loyalty and asks if you’d like to watch an old movie – maybe even get high with him. The movie is an old western and the gunslinger dies in the end. The weed makes you tired.

When you wake the next morning, LA sunlight peeking through the blinds, you’re in his bed. His body is turned in the other direction and a lone pillow separates the space between you. You smile at the way this thoughtless man thinks. All your anger dissipates and he is right for you, all over again. —

On Sunday, you’re the tabloid story.

Finally, you’ve been caught in the act. A sneaky camera in the bushes, that lone photographer with a hungry belly and nothing better to do than explode your life. Half of twitter regals you with hate messages and the other half spouts encouragement. People discover you, search the depths of your online existence and find out more than you would like about everything you used to be.

By Monday morning he’s calling you.

“I’m sorry,” comes his hushed, apologetic tone, “I tried to do something about it but you know how those things are.”

You can’t believe this is the first time you’ve ever been caught. Dieter has been your… your whatever since you stretched your acting muscles briefly in 2012. It was that shitty little pilot that didn’t even make it to cable, but you got him, that up and coming actor with an extensive background in theater. You’ve become several different people since then, changing occupations like clothes, and now you sit halfway between writer and unemployed. It’s okay, though. You have money. Once upon a time you were famous too; a child actor who worked too much and didn’t understand what was real and what wasn’t for far too long. Your mother was kind enough not to exhaust your funds. You think instinctively she knew someday you would be this way.

You shrug, coming to. “It’s okay,” you mutter, trying not to think of all the mean things you’ve read. “Hell,” you joke, “Maybe they’ll finally do that revival now. I’m famous again, so why not?”

He laughs too, so easy. “I’m glad you’re taking this okay. I thought you’d never talk to me again.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“I know but still. It’s shitty and you don’t deserve shitty. One day you’ll wise up to it.”

Betrayal curls up inside of you, makes a newfound home. All the unspoken things between you, and he must bring up this today: the way you do this to yourself. “Not all of us can readily admit to the things we know, can we?” you say evenly. “Listen, Bravo, I’ve got to go respond to some of your fans on twitter now, if you don’t mind. They’re asking for your dick pics.”

You hear his laugh. “Oh, knock yourself out. What’s mine is yours or whatever.”

“I don’t feel similarly, just in case you get the same kind of messages this week.” He doesn’t respond, and you furrow your eyebrows, letting your smile drop. “Dieter?”

“I know what they’re saying—“ he pauses, weighing out his words. “I know they’re not all being kind to you. I’ve seen it, and I’m sorry. Really. If I could do something about it, I would. I’ve been trying,” he repeats, sounding far too exasperated for your liking.

You pick the phone off the counter and turn it off the speaker. No one lives here but you, but some things don’t feel like they should be put out in the open air. “It’s just a photo,” you tell him evenly. “I’ve been in this business longer than you. I know how to handle this.”

“I just don’t want you to think you shouldn’t see me anymore. We can be more careful.”

“Where are you?”

“Wherever you’d like me to be.”

You snort. “God, nowhere near me with a line like that.”

“Oh sorry. I forgot you’re not into that sentimentality bullshit.”

You smile, liking the way his voice has turned from sober to playful in a matter of seconds. “Here I’ve been, thinking you’ve got my number. If you don’t know by now what gets me going—”

“—a good fuck, a single cigarette on a bad day or a drunken night, and most photos of Fiona Apple.”

“Well done, Bravo.”

“Can I come over?”

“Sure, but you better make a couple of wrong left turns on the way here for safe measures. Hate for you to get caught with the same woman twice in one week.”

“Oh ha, ha,” he says deadpan. “Unlock your door. I’m outside already.”

—

The public expects you to break. They always have. As you hand Dieter the badly rolled joint, you think about how pleased they’d be to know this is how you spend your time. The little girl wonder grew up just as fucked as they expected, from pigtails to ill suited relationships and drugs during the week. That’s how they’d see it, anyway. You think it’s a little more nuanced than that, but the public hasn’t ever been particularly good at leaving room for it in their judgments.

Dieter sits on the ground between your thighs, his back to your stomach. Your fingers weave their way through his thick, slightly curly hair, catching every now and then on a stray knot. “Fuck,” he mutters when you land on a clump near his ear. You grin, coltish. “Let me cut it,” you tell him.

“I have a girl,” he says as an answer.

You wrap yourself around him, your face on his back. “Always do,” you tease, humming softly.

He covers your arms, allowing you to envelope him. “I’m getting the vibe that you’ve grown a tad bit possessive of me.” You scoff, loosening your grip. He clinches down, trapping you. “I’m like that with you, too,” he adds.

You hear the confession racket through his body, your ear pressing to some part of his rib, and yet you are the one who feels transparent. “That’s fucked up,” you answer simply, unable to find the right words in this state. He’s always too coherent for you when you smoke weed together. It’s better when you just fuck; it’s a language you communicate best in, even when perfectly sober.

“It is fucked up,” he says, setting the joint down on the ashtray. He blows out a cloud of smoke and runs his thumb affectionately over one of your forearms. “And I think in a fucked up way, you enjoy it. I do. I don’t know why — probably something therapy could sort out.” He laughs, though it sounds a bit hollow. “I mean, it makes me miserable. I know when you’re with someone else. I can just feel it. It’s in the way you text me—or the way you don’t text me, actually. You grow so distant and I think ‘This is it. She’s a smart girl, and you’ve done it this time.’ And then, like with Friday, you come back and you let me have my way with you and it’s awful and it’s nasty and yet…” He clicks his tongue, hesitating. “It’s great. I want you so bad I’m…I don’t know. Overcome with it. All the misery leaves my body and it’s just me and you, and it doesn’t feel nasty or degrading, does it? I don’t mean for it to. I just…It feels like I’m on the edge of the rest of my life when I’m with you like that. I want to tear you apart and I want you to tear me apart and then I want to put us together again, just to show you it can be done. And it’s always done, isn’t it? I leave you feeling whole again, like I’ve just righted this terrible wrong.”

“Dieter,” you manage, voice heavy. “You’re a secret romantic.”

“That’s the most fucked up part about it,” he says poignantly. “I think a lot of screwed up people do a lot of the screwed up shit they do in pursuit of love, and yet they can never quite allow themselves to have it. I’d love to stay put but it makes me itch. I don’t know why.”

“Were you parents fucked up?” You lean back. He lets you this time, but he moves back with you, laying his head on your chest.

“Sure,” he responds. “They fought all the time, but most people did back then. I knew they loved each other, though. They liked to dance and they always used to have these lively conversations about everything. They were serious people, to the point that it was almost unserious.

“My mother, she was educated and my father loved to read and watch movies and talk, and I think she fell in love with him because of it, despite the fact he came from a more…less wealthy background than she did. They begged her, her family, to get a prenup but she never even married him, you know? They didn’t care. They just lived together and they were perfectly content with it.”

You stare up at the ceiling, listening. “Why do you say it like it’s over? What happened?”

“I am?” he asks. “I guess I’m talking in past tense, ‘cause that’s where I existed with them, in the past. I don’t speak to them much anymore, not because I don’t want to, but just because life got busy. They’re still together. Probably fighting or having a conversation about something trivial and unimportant right now.” He smiles, filled with fondness and nostalgia. “What were your parents like?”

“I don’t know. I’ve tried to remember, and I’ve tried to piece it together from what I have, but I can’t. I don’t think I ever could.” You close your eyes. “They love me immensely and they love each other immensely, but things happen. Good and bad things. I’m just their kid.” You shrug. “I feel like a terrible person a lot of the time because of it. Like, what did my mother want from life? Surely it wasn’t me. This. She must’ve wanted something and I’ll never know it.”

“Did she want to be an actress?” he asks curiously.

“No,” you say softly. “She wasn’t the projecting type. I wanted to be an actress. I loved it. She just put me in the theater to keep me busy during the summer and I took off. She encouraged me. She was and is the encouraging type.”

“And your dad?”

“He’s…well he’s there when he’s there and isn’t when he isn’t. I love him and I wonder about him and I feel like I know him more than myself. But I also feel like he’s a perfect stranger.”

“Hm,” Dieter surmises.

“I don’t have daddy issues,” you add. This makes him laugh and you feel it vibrate through you too. It’s so comforting, warm.

“I wouldn’t tell you that,” he says.

“I didn’t even want you to think about it. It's a cheap analysis that men have been pining on women for years. I’d sooner admit to fucking up myself. I mean, I’m sure he didn’t help me any but he didn’t do all the work. I’ve had directors more involved.” You crunch up your nose, remembering. “One of them hated me because of my mom. He had a crush on her and she wouldn’t go with him. I think he’s the reason I have a problem with authority.”

He breathes out through his nose and slaps his hand softly against your thigh, laughing. “For what it’s worth, I do not think you’re terribly fucked up. Just a normal amount, no worse than the best of the most successful. Hell,” he continues, “Maybe even a little better than them.”

You sink back into the sofa, feeling the room move beneath your eyelids. “Dieter, I’m so high,” you whine.

“It’s nice, isn’t it?”

“I can’t talk anymore,” you say. “My brain wants me to say things I shouldn’t.”

He lifts an eyebrow. “Like what?”

You groan. “Sentences I’ve already said, just worded differently.” The sincerity of your words makes him laugh — so heartily you squeeze his forearm in appreciation. It touches you everywhere, with your chest against his back like this.

“It’s okay,” he tells you, “Just close your eyes and I’ll keep talking.”

“Mm,” you acknowledge him.

But he doesn’t keep talking. The two of you fall asleep right there in your quiet contentment. You enjoy the peace that comes from soul purging confessions.

—

Tuesday afternoon and he’s still with you. It’s a record, almost. If there hadn’t been that five night stint you had pulled together during one particularly lonely holiday weekend two years ago, this would be the longest you’ve ever seen him. It’s certainly the longest you’ve been together and not had sex.

The pungent, sour-sweet smell of marijuana invades your home, clings to your clothes, and makes you feel like the love-sick, abandoned teenager you were at 17. It’s been a long, long time since then, but there’s a quality about Dieter that puts you back there. Tempting as it is to blame on his perpetual immaturity, you know it’s more to do with your own lack of control. The world spins and you spin with it—a fact that you’ve still yet to gulp down bravely and accept—and Dieter merely reminds you of it.

He thumbs through your record collection while you sip gingerly at a Coke on the couch. Under his breath, he whispers the title of albums that have made up your life, ignorant to just how intimate the act really is. Dieter sees a plethora of intricately organized vinyls and you see half your life; it is a collection made up of poor decisions, lovers’ gifts, and tokens of another life. He plucks out a Rolling Stones album and puts it on the spin table.

Domesticity threatens to choke you for a second before Dieter looks in your direction, sloppy grin on his face. “Let It Bleed,” he says, heading in your direction. “It has You Can’t Always Get What You Want at the end. I think it’s better this way, too, because you have to work for it.”

“What do you mean?”

He takes the Coke out of your hands and steals a sip, voice plugged with passion as he says, “Nowadays you can just listen to a song whenever you want but used to, you had to sit through the whole album. We’re losing the art of the music album because people don’t do that anymore.”

You take your Coke back and shake your head. “That’s not true. After David Bowie died, vinyls became popular again. Albums are very much still in.”

“So maybe they are.” He shrugs. “Regardless, I think they’re better this way. Don’t you?”

“Sometimes. But sometimes I just want to listen to one song.”

He lays his head on the back of the couch, pouting out his bottom lip in consideration. “You’re angry with me,” he surmises after a moment.

You frown. “No.”

“You’re something with me, and it’s certainly not pleased.”

“I was just saying my opinion.”

“You want me to leave?”

“No.”

“I can’t quite reach you in there—“ he points to your head “—so if you want me to do something, or say something, you’ve got to tell me.”

“I don’t want anything from you,” you tell him evenly. He narrows his eyes suspiciously. “I don’t,” you repeat, trying to soften out your features. “I’m feeling…I don’t know. Awkward. You don’t stick around this long and I guess it’s making me feel odd. Especially because you haven’t touched me.”

“Ah,” he says, straightening himself. “I didn’t know if you wanted me to.”

“Have I ever denied you?”

“No, but I figured you might like to know I don’t mind seeing you with your clothes on too.” He offers you a kind smile and his fingers reach out and intertwine loosely with a few of yours. This is completely uncharted territory that makes your heart beat ferociously against your chest.

You tug him closer and he comes, his body leaning into yours as your lips meet. The shirt he wears is slightly too big on him, and the fabric brushes against your stomach as you open your legs to make room for him. His fingers press into your hips, positioning you beneath him, and you open your lips slightly, permitting him access.

For lack of a better word, you think: Homecoming. But it isn’t. This isn’t home. This is Dieter Bravo, page six, Mr. Half His Age. You smile against his lips and he pulls back. “What?” he says, smiling too. You feel his breath on your face, warm, and you lean up to press your lips to his again. “Nothing,” you tell him, knowing the joke won’t be funny.

He doesn’t seem to mind, allowing himself to be swayed away by the suggestive rock of your hips. He leverages himself with a hand on the back of the couch, and you pull him down, further and further, latching your legs around his waist. He is warm, burning, and as you deepen the kiss, you can feel the way he grows hard above you.

“Fuck,” he mutters, nodding his head up, disconnecting the two of you. Your lips feel rubbed raw, bruised, but you want more. He grunts softly when you press yourself into his cock and you look at each other for one dizzying second. Then he is kissing the underside of your jaw, his large hand palming your covered breast.

You try desperately to figure out how to shed the layers of clothing that separate you but he is quicker on his feet, pushing the college shirt you wear up above your stomach. He puts it behind your head, pinning your arms up. You watch as he licks down your chest, warm tongue flattening between the valley of your breasts. Then his breath ghosts over the nipples he exposes, his long, thick fingers pulling down the fabric of your bra quickly, desperate, hungry. He takes one in his mouth and you squeal.

Dieter isn’t usually patient. He fucks for leisure but never really revels in it for too long, so it surprises you when he licks  down the rest of your body, swirling his tongue above the place where the band of your sleep shorts begins. You raise your hips for him and he sheds another layer, but again, just barely. Leaving you in your underwear, he worships you on the way back up, kissing your ankle, your calf, the inside of your thigh, even the place where your thigh meets your cunt. His fingers dig, eager to find skin full enough to grip; breasts and thighs, your hips, your ass when you respond to the hot breath that cascades over your cotton covered cunt.

He presses his hot mouth to you, underwear still in the way, and that’s it, you're ablaze and you are starved, crammed full of lust with an appetite that knows no bounds. You want to bare yourself to him—to spread yourself wide right there, and let him into the wetness of your cunt while you whisper dirty things into his ear. His words from yesterday echo in your mind — I want to tear you apart and I want you to tear me apart and then I want to put us together again, just to show you it can be done — and you think God, that’s it. The pulse point, the center, the raw and unbridled truth. You tear one another apart and it is tender, trusting. You’ve been getting him wrong. Over a decade and yet you’ve miscalculated it all.

He slips aside the fabric of your underwear, licks you, finds you wet and wanting. You are dripping. You feel it, know that his eager tongue is only adding to what his mere presence has caused.

That other man, he was lovely, young, flexible, all calloused hands and the taste of reckless mystery you thought you needed, but Dieter is ritual to you, like waves slapping against the rocks or the slow, inevitable spin of the planet around the sun. It happens and yet the sheer ferocity of the change it brings leaves you shocked. He is the taste of half smoked tobacco, the sweetness of a stolen sip of Coke, the warmth of an almost-orgasm rushing to your head.

His lips are coated with your slick, glossy beneath the warm living room light, but he doesn’t seem to care. He bites down on his bottom lip, pressing the pad of his finger to your entrance. Watching with heavy lidded eyes, he finds it in himself to smirk.

“Dieter,” you pant out, not taking your eyes away.

“You want it?” he growls, voice low and lust-filled. “Beg.”

You don’t hesitate. “Please. Fuck Dieter. Please.”

He sinks it in and the sound of your cunt welcoming him makes you both groan. It’s so deliciously obscene, the entirety of it. Your brain sputters, confused and overwrought, and you think: oh, I would never deny you anything. Never. Never.

His finger curls inside of you and his thumb presses down on your clit, focused and determined, the evidence found in the way his forehead crinkles. You note, even in this state, the way the front of his sweatpants tent and a dark spot where he’s leaked forms. He’s not wearing underwear and his finger is in you, above you, on you. You are warm, a beautiful burning thing around his thick finger. He enters another, says, “Fuck, you are so wet. Look at you.”

You shudder beneath him, a wordless moan escaping as you grip his tattooed wrist. The orgasm wracks through you, leaving you panting, pulling at his hand. So fitting - so ironic - that this is where he would mark himself with the symbol for femininity. Mother nature. That hollow triangle, pointed in the direction of you, sister to the darkened one pointing at him on the other forearm. That one means sun, masculine. They are earthly and complex, harmonic and just right.

Dieter puts his fingers flat on your tongue and you suck your own juices off of him, acidic - sour-sweet. He watches for a moment before he replaces them with his own tongue. There’s more of you there. As you work his sweats below his hips, dragging the fabric across his sensitive cock, he groans deep and you drink it up, hungry for more.

When he pushes into you, he does so with such ease, your body allowing him to sink into you like you’re his home, the missing half. It’s too romantic of a notion for you to carry in real life but somehow, like this, it fits. You crave the truth of it. As he rolls his hips into yours, deep as he can, you pull his shirt over his head and cover his lazy, soft lips with your own. You breathe each other in more than you kiss, bottom lips connected, top lips flirting, and tongues meeting each other as he seats himself fully inside of you.

Dieter is thick, makes you feel full in a decidedly feminine way as grinds himself against you. You clench around him, fingers thrusting into the skin of his back. He nuzzles into your neck, presses wet kisses to the sensitive skin.

You bury your hands in his sexed-up hair, let your body wrap entirely around his frame as he finds a rhythm inside of you. A soft flow of up and down, in and out, lacking ferocity but conveying a desperate need. He drags his cock through you, pierces you with it, and you take it gratefully, eyes shut and senses flooded. When nibble on his ear, you taste the metallic of his lone earring and his breath grows more ragged. “You feel so fucking good,” you whimper, voice high, “I feel you—I feel you everywhere. God your cock—you make me so fucking wet.”

You kiss him fully on the mouth again. Everything feels taut, moments away from being over, and you cling to him, wrapping your arms around his neck, your legs around his waist. You are one, a complete thing. Then he is pulling you apart before you know it, the twitch of his cock happening precariously inside of you. But he knows himself, well enough to pull out just in time, spilling his warm seed across the canvas of your exposed belly. A wordless sob escapes him and you reach out to hold the forearm he’s moved to the back of the couch again.

This is when it ends, the place where the two of you separate, go your own ways. He will hand you a tissue, wrestle out a pathetic ‘thank you’ or ‘see you later’ and the illusion will be broken–

“Do you mind if I spend another night with you?” he says, chest rising and falling. He sits back on his knees, looking at the milky white substance on you with a mixture of curiosity and fascination. He fingers it and you take it, bringing it to your lips. Dieter offers a lopsided grin, that dimple of his showing again.

“What’s mine is yours or whatever,” you echo his previous words, smiling too.

“That means a lot,” he says.

“More than you know,” you agree, “So don’t fuck it up.”

He presses his lips to your knee, the silence deafening, but you trust him despite it. This is different. He is different. He has to be. Please, you plead silently, running your hands through his hair again, Don’t ruin this for me.

He catches your eyes, smiles softly. “I won’t.”