#(same with the 'Minor Monogram' time) | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

jaws-and-canines · 2 years

Text

Clay Pigeons

A Count The Days story. Contains depictions of emotional abuse towards a minor, abusive parenting, homophobic language and said underaged character getting mildly injured and mentions of religious abuse.

---

Haskell walks with a little hesitation, trying to keep his father where he can see him, despite the grip on his sleeve he knows is going to bruise. "You're hurting me," he says, wincing as his father digs his fingers into his forearm.

"Don't you dare tell me I'm hurting you," snaps his father back. “You’ve hurt me today. You’ve hurt me beyond belief.”

But you are, thinks Haskell. He doesn’t say it. “Dad, please,” begins Haskell, and glances behind him. They’re in the middle of the forest now. Nobody for miles around except maybe the groundskeeper. “I wasn’t… we weren’t…”

“The last thing I want to hear, when I spend my life toiling away to send you to that wonderful school is that you’re spending your time in the changing rooms behaving like a goddamn whore with the other boys. Kissing them. Braiding each other’s hair. That is disgusting. I hesitate to even call it intimacy. It’s just disgusting.”

Haskell itches at the back of his head, a nervous tic of his. Of course it had to be the most conservative and traditional teacher in the school who’d stumbled upon him and Liam the single time they’d dared to even broach the topic with each other. He clears his throat. “Master Arlington is making it seem worse than it is, it was one time-“

“Shut up!” screams his father, voice breaking, and hits him, hard, across the back of the shoulders. He doesn’t resort to getting physical often, but the threat is always there when he loses his temper. “Just shut the fuck up! I work my life away for you, how dare you take the proverbial! How dare you!” They reach the shed at the edge of the gun range, and Haskell winces as his father kicks the door open, throwing his keys down on the counter. “Get in here, boy,” he says. “Get in here.”

“Pick up your fucking shotgun. Pick it up.” His father practically shoves the thing into his hands. Haskell breaks open the gun and checks that it isn’t loaded. His father picks his up, with the silver monogram on the butt of it, and doesn’t do the same. Haskell tries to nod towards his father’s gun, to warn him to check it is unloaded.

His father looks at him like the dirt on the bottom of his shoe. “Stop that,” he snaps, and keeps the tight grip on Haskell’s shoulder as they walk up to the shooting range itself. “Don’t you dare treat me like a fucking idiot.” He waves to the groundskeeper to start the clay pigeon launcher going, then immediately rounds on Haskell again. “We’re back here again, aren’t we?” He starts to load his shotgun. “I’ll tell you where homosexuals end up. Drug-addicted prostitutes. Dying of AIDS on some piss-sodden mattress in a crackhouse somewhere. Else, worse, you end up in prison. In either of these cases I’m not coming to save you.”

He passes a handful of shells over to Haskell, who doesn’t load them just yet. “Sort yourself out,” he says to Haskell, and turns around to get ready to take the shot. "Man up. Do something with your life. I try to teach you all I know, from a silver fucking spoon, lad, and this is how you repay me?”

Haskell thinks, briefly, about cracking his father over the head with the butt of his gun, but pushes away the thought.

His father, oblivious, carries on. "No son of mine will grow up to be a filthy fucking queer, you understand? You want to do that, you’re not my son." He hears the launcher fire and tracks the clay pigeon across the treeline. With a squeeze of the trigger, he fires. Missing, he tuts and fires the other barrel. The clay pigeon sails on, unharmed, and falls to the leafy ground. "Damn," he grunts, then takes it out on Haskell. “If you can’t man up and straighten out your head, you’re not my son. You can leave right now. I’ll make sure everyone knows why you left.”

Haskell swallows the lump in his throat and tries to tell the truth. “We were just… experimenting,” says Haskell quietly.

His father crosses his arms, a twitch in his jaw telling Haskell to not even try to go down that route, lest he get one hell of a screaming at for it. “Focus on the fucking shoot.”

Haskell checks his shotgun is loaded and raises it. Listens, waits, and as soon as the clay pigeon appears, fires once. It bursts into a cloud of clay dust and shards. Haskell steps back and says nothing. His father steps up again, continuing his tirade. "Did I not raise you right? Did we teach you something wrong? Did your mother and I not pour enough blood, sweat and tears into your education?” He tuts.

Haskell furrows his brow, meaning to say something impolite, but barely gets it out of his mouth. “I don’t think-”

"Listen to me!" his father bellows. Haskell steps backwards, free hand up in surrender, the other hand clutching the shotgun, open and unloaded, under his arm. "Listen to me! You’ve been corrupted by the agenda of these… these “people”.” He draws quotation marks in the air. “That’s what they do. They corrupt other people into being like them, and it’s my duty to put you back to how you should be. You like women. You do not even consider liking men. You are almost sixteen. You should understand this.”

Haskell nods frantically. “Yes.” His father holds onto his collar, twisting his shirt so tight that Haskell can feel his heartbeat pulsing under the white fabric. He realises that his father wants an apology. He stumbles over his words. “I- I- I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”

“Do you understand? Do I have to beat the devil out of you? Do we have to call a priest? Both, perhaps?" Haskell shakes his head, paling at the thought. His father laughs, furious, at his obvious discomfort. "No? You get it?”

“Yes.”

“You know I’m good to you. Some parents would beat their kid over this. I won’t. You’re smart enough to get it, aren’t you?” His father smiles. It’s not a nice smile. “Now go and put another round of pigeons in the launcher before Smithson gets here. We’re having a meeting so you better get out of our way.”

Haskell clears his shotgun and puts it down. Thank god Smithson has his own, because the man can barely shoot. He always makes a peculiar little whistle as he focuses to shoot, which is in Haskell’s opinion, one of the most grating sounds on the planet.

He picks up a box of clay pigeons from the shed and walks through the forest like there’s a dark cloud over him. He’s almost furious about how it’s all been misrepresented. He knows that he’ll get another proverbial- hopefully- kicking over it from his mother, and then another on Sunday, but really, did it matter? He was just playing around.

Nobody would blink twice when the girls at school braided each other’s hair- from the few glimpses he’d gotten of the girl’s school, they were always doing that sort of thing. Maybe at fifteen he was supposed to have outgrown that. Maybe he just wasn’t allowed to do it.

Kissing Liam, on the other hand? Maybe that was out of line, he thinks, and swallows sharply. But it had just happened. He hadn’t really meant to. He scratches the back of his head again. Had he?

Haskell blinks with uncomfortably dry eyes as he gets to the clay pigeon thrower and starts to load it up. The horror of it all, he thinks, is not that he got caught, not really. The fact that he was a thousand times more okay with Liam’s hands on him than any of the girls his father tried to pair him with- that’s the horror of it all.

But, that’s a problem for later, he thinks. It’s a problem he’s been putting off for the last few years.

Well, he thinks, if it’s waited that long, it can wait longer. He sighs, and stands up, wiping his hands on his trousers, trudging back towards his father.

He hears talking. Then the whistle Smithson always does right before he fires. What the hell, he thinks.

The thunderous crack of a shotgun being fired echoes through the trees. Haskell almost jumps out of his skin and throws himself down to the floor, almost slipping in the mud, and presses himself against a tree trunk. "Oh, fuck," he breathes, his hands trembling. "Hey!" he yells. "I'm still here, watch your fire!"

No response. He takes a few deep breaths, clenching his hands into fists to steady them, then crawls along to the next tree, keeping low. The mud practically cakes all over his black boots and tweed trousers, but he decides he'd rather be muddy than dead.

The next shot whistles over his head, taking a chunk out of the ancient tree with a shower of wood chips. He bites down on his hand, drawing blood, to stifle a scream and starts frantically crawling again, praying that he can’t be seen and the next hit isn't going to be him.

The next shot goes well over his head, something which he’s relieved for, and eventually he gets off of his knees and simply sprints for the break in the treeline where he knows his father and his business partner will be.

He stands in front of his father, blood dripping from his fingertips, caked in mud and shivering from fear and exhaustion. “You shot at me!” he cries.

His father just laughs at him. "Man up, Haskell," he says. "Just an accident. It happens. Are you hurt? You’re not hurt. Stop being dramatic."

He looks at his father, his heart pounding in his chest. He looks at his father’s business partner, at the groundskeeper, at all three of them stood together, at all three of them complicit.

“That’s it,” he says. “I’ll tell you something, I’ll tell you something,” He points at his father with a shaking, bloodied hand. “You two… you two have the worst gun safety I’ve ever seen!” He raises his voice, almost ragged. “I’ve never seen people more incompetent in my life!”

His father’s jaw twitches again. Haskell’s seen it a thousand times before. He just walks past, back towards the house. He’ll ground himself before his father has a chance to do it, he thinks.

#count the days #cw minor whump #minor whump #cw homophobia

4 notes · View notes

derbenclove · 1 month

Text

Elevate Your Professional Style: Discover the Best Luxury Leather Laptop Bags

One of the primary reasons people invest in luxury leather laptop bag is their remarkable durability. Unlike synthetic materials that can wear out or tear over time, genuine leather is incredibly resilient. It can withstand daily use, including exposure to the elements, without losing its structural integrity. The natural fibers in leather give it a toughness that synthetic alternatives can rarely match. When properly cared for, a leather laptop bag can last for decades, often outliving the trends and fads of fashion.

As mentioned earlier, genuine leather develops a patina over time, which is a key aspect of its charm. This patina is a soft sheen that develops on the surface of the leather, reflecting the bag's journey and the life it has lived. It’s a testament to the authenticity of the material and gives each bag a one-of-a-kind appearance. Scratches, minor scuffs, and natural wear contribute to this unique look, making your leather messenger bag truly your own.

The design of a leather messenger bag is often centered around practicality. The size and layout of the compartments are usually well thought out to maximize space and organization. Whether you’re a student, a professional, or a traveler, a leather messenger bag offers enough room to carry essentials like laptops, books, documents, and other personal items securely and comfortably.

Some messenger bags also feature specialized compartments lined with soft materials to protect electronics, ensuring that your devices remain scratch-free and safe from minor impacts. The adjustable straps and ergonomic designs further enhance comfort, making these bags suitable for long commutes or travel.

office laptop bags bags have a universal appeal that transcends age and gender. They are versatile enough to complement both formal and casual outfits, making them a staple accessory for a variety of settings.

Professional Setting: In a corporate environment, a leather messenger bag exudes professionalism. It pairs well with suits and business casual attire, making it ideal for office use or business meetings.

Casual Outings: For more relaxed settings, such as a day out in the city or a casual meeting, the same bag can be worn crossbody or over the shoulder with jeans, a sweater, or a casual jacket. The bag’s design adds a touch of sophistication to any casual ensemble.

Another appealing aspect of luxury leather laptop bags is the potential for customization. Many leather artisans offer personalization services, such as monogramming, which adds a personal touch to your bag. Some companies also offer custom-made options, allowing you to choose the type of leather, color, and design features to suit your specific needs and preferences. This level of personalization ensures that your leather messenger bag is not only functional but also uniquely yours.

A luxury leather laptop bag is more than just a purchase—it's an investment. High-quality leather products, especially those from reputable brands or artisans, often appreciate in value over time. Collectors and fashion enthusiasts recognize the enduring appeal of well-crafted leather goods, sometimes treating them as heirlooms to be passed down through generations.

#leather laptop bag #luxury leather laptop bag

0 notes

annleejust4you · 11 months

Link

Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: LOUIS VUITTON TRAVEL BAG/ DUFFLE BAG/ WEEKEND BAG.....

0 notes

digitalkorbaxllc · 2 years

Text

Why go for a Monogram Design Online?

Monogram Design Online

A lovely monogram is a powerful logo that you can use for both business and individual projects. Going to look at a graphic symbol is like starting to read a powerful story about your company's policies and vision. Hire us for Monogram Design Online services with a little patience and dreams. For our experts, the most important thing is to keep an open mind to new ideas and promising innovative approaches! Logo design creates the most visually appealing and distinctive logos that can help your startup thrive so get connected to us & get a quote for Logo Design Service.

Professional Monogram Design Online Services Add a New Confidence:

How can you write a tale quickly while still being successful? How can you express the goals of your company with just one icon? Doesn't it sound like a true Professional Graphic Design? Monograms are an example of mastery in the precise translation of a concept into a sign. They're simple motifs of overlapping or distinctive letters that form a single symbol. You must understand that your monogram serves as a symbol for your brand, and a minor error or incorrectly depicted monogram can jeopardize your brand's core idea. Logo Design understands the importance of having the right monogram, so we provide high-end Monogram Design Online services to our valuable customers. If you want your company to stand out among other businesses in the same industry, the best thing you can do is look at other monogram logos and hire professionals for this purpose.

Why is Monogram Logo the best for Your Business?

There are millions of instructions for creating the perfect and successful monogram logo for your business. Because monogram logos are ideal for narrating and presenting your firm's core identity, you should consider them when planning your logo. Once you have got the Perfect monogram Design, it can stay in the minds of your customers for a long time. Furthermore, monogram logos will powerfully represent your company's culture and morals. Determine how your monogram logo will be used – will its intended location work with this type of logo? Will it be used in ads, pamphlets, business cards, or on a t-shirt? Remember that monograms are created with letters and specific lettering representing the brand accurately. For instance, not everyone wants to wear a t-shirt with a Monogram Logo. Perhaps the full name will be preferred.

It's All About the Fonts and Designs:

Before we go any further, let's look at what elements can improve the level of your monogram and how much you can add to raise the bar. So! When it comes to monogram design online, your choices will determine whether it is better or worse. You must carefully examine the real physiology of your business before selecting the appropriate plan and font to communicate the true meaning and results to prospective clients. Logo Design can put you on the right track because we only collaborate with famous designers and makers who will talk about your initial concept and offer ways to help you achieve success. Another thing to remember is always to pay attention to the initials. Talk to our professionals, and they'll make it a reality for you.

Professionals are Available for Online Services:

Individuality is only possible through creativity and innovation. If you are unwilling to try new things, you will not be able to enjoy the results. Monogram Design Online is an area that encourages you to be brave enough to carry your company's correct title in the most stylish way possible. At Logo Design, a professional and qualified crew of designers and artists is available to assist you in achieving the results you desire. From selecting the appropriate letters to combining them in a creative and innovative manner, all require expert focus to eliminate the challenges that could hinder the true purpose. You can get your tailored monogram styling online, which will give your company a new and improved identity, allowing it to compete for more possibilities in the respective area. Contact us, and you'll soon be having fun with your new digital identity with renewed confidence.

Reference

#3D Logo Design #Initial Logo Design #Best Logo Design Ideas #Real Estate Logo Maker #Monogram Design Online #Graphic Design Services In USA #Custom Logo Design Services #Custom Business Logo Design

1 note · View note

iloverodrigo · 2 years

Note

Hey! Cant believe that ive finally found my people!! i didnt think anyone else liked him as much as me 🙂🙂 quick quest: how’d you get into him? for me it was when i watched minor monogram for around the 3rd time and really paid attention to him!!! Ive literally been stalking all rodrigo related tags since… lol. Cant believe someone made a full stan account!! Was considering it myself but was scared of nobody being interested. Love! 🥰🥰

hi omg!!! so basically how it all started was that I wanted 2 binge the whole phineas & ferb series bc I only saw like maybe half of the eps as a kid. i was so attached to him the moment I saw him, I rlly like supervillain / extremely genius characters in general (ex i also had a huge L/DeathNote phase) & also im a teen & he’s a teen so it’s kinda like same age attraction partly lmao! i def think him & vanessa wouldve been such a cute couple, i rlly didn’t like that she ended up w ferb in the timeskip </3. generally i thought at first there would b a huge fanbase 4 him, since he’s like the standard “cutish smart villain” but there wasn’t, which was lowk disappointing tbh bc i was soso looking forward 2 consuming all the rodrigo media I could find lmao. so since there wasn’t a lot of things abt him on the internet, i thought I could make an acc to like hype him up and in general js express how much i lvoed him in hopes of finding some1 else who also did !!! so yeah, v open to making new friends and stuff who also love rodrigo!! u should def make that stan acc id b so interested in following lol! thanku 4 asking *_*!

#i love rodrigo

0 notes

forgottenpnffacts · 5 years

Note

I know perry is technically certified fearless but we all know that’s bull. Do you know which episodes show him genuinely scared?

Hmm, it’s kind of hard for me to parse out “scared” from “shocked” or “panicked,” but when considering context: he was scared enough from Doof’s driving to be left shaking in “The Doonkelberry Imperative,” the way he wakes up and the fact that “Phineas and Ferb Get Busted” was his nightmare indicated that he was scared of losing the Flynn-Fletchers as his host family, he looks scared when being chased by Professor Parenthesis towards the end of “O.W.C.A. Files,” he’s scared when being chased by the thugs in “Phineas and Ferb Save Summer,” the scare cords indicate he was horrified when Doof initially showed off his platypus form in “Doofapus” and by the escape-proof trap in “Blackout!” he’s shown to be scared in “Spa Day” when Doof falls off D.E.I., he seems scared several times throughout Phineas and Ferb the Movie: Across the 2nd Dimension, “Night of the Living Pharmacists,” and “Primal Perry,” he gets scared in “Act Your Age” when Doof zapped himself with the Mid-Life Crisis-Inator, and the time when Doof fell off of D.E.I. in “Last Day of Summer” was arguably one of his most terrified expressions in the series!

#he's definitely shocked whenever the A and B plots mix in a way that threatens his cover but i don't think that counts #(same with the 'Minor Monogram' time)#basically i counted as scared whenever he has wide eyes and an open mouth #i'm not even entirely sure if the horrified ones i mentioned count but that's subjectivity for you #if something's open to interpretation there's a lot of different answers #asks #anon

59 notes · View notes

juletheghoul · 3 years

Text

Silk (Part 3)

So... I've gone off the deep end with Mob Din, I love him so.

reblogs are appreciated

Din Djarin x F!Reader (sex worker)

Pairing: Din x F!Reader

Word Count: 5K (chonky)

Warnings: **TW READER IS A SEX WORKER** Smut 18+(NO MINORS) p in v sex-wrap it up, oral m & f receiving, language, dirty talk, some light choking, there is a threesome in this. (slight daddy kink-it's tiny)

(please let me know if I missed any)

Masterlist Series Masterlist Next Chapter

--------------

You admired his face while he slept, his arm slung over you, tightening whenever you made the slightest move. Even asleep he was claiming you. The heavy velvet curtains blocked out most of the light, but there was a sliver of sunshine cutting through the early dawn - illuminating his features.

His face was beautiful in this light, it was beautiful in any light if you were honest. His lips were plush and you ran a finger over the bottom one, pillowy and soft and you couldn’t help but press your lips to his quickly and you hated yourself for it.

I can’t get sentimental, this is a client - not my boyfriend

“Give me another one.” His eyes were still closed and for once you felt self-conscious, like you’d been caught.

“Another what?” You tried to play it off but you saw the little smile dancing on his face.

“Another kiss, now please.” He cracked one eye open and you smiled, obliging him. “You up for good? Or do you want to keep sleeping?” He rolled onto his back, pulling you to tuck you into the crook of his neck.

“You tell me, what are we doing today?” You rubbed his chest while you spoke, pressing soft kisses to any part of his golden skin that you could reach.

“I’m free this morning. No meetings until later - so I want to spoil you. We’re going shopping. Then we’re going out later on, wherever you like.” He was well and truly up as he listed the day's itinerary.

“You don’t have to spoil me.” You were a little surprised, you never actually thought he’d be serious about buying you a new dress.

“I didn’t say I had to, I said I wanted to.” He placed a quick peck onto your forehead before getting up to head to the bathroom.

—-

Watching him dress shouldn’t have excited you as much as it did, he was hiding his beautiful skin; tucking away the topography of him that you loved to map out with your mouth. While it was true that you preferred him naked, there was something about seeing him dressed up in a suit that made you sweat. Made your pupils dilate, made you bite your lip.

You studied the care he took, the confidence in his choices. Cream coloured slacks, deft fingers buttoning up a crisp white shirt. Foregoing the tie and leaving a few buttons undone almost as a tease. Cream coloured blazer on top despite the Vegas heat. It never seemed to bother him.

His cuff links were made of a silvery metal, something you’d never seen before. It looked darker than the regular silver you yourself sometimes wore, it looked sturdy and shiny - cold. You could see the monogram on them, the first letter of both his first and last name.

It was almost there as a challenge. Say my name, I dare you.

He saw you staring at them, a confused little frown on your face.

“It’s beskar.” Your expression flashed up to his eyes, caught for the second time today. “It’s very rare, but it’s important to me.” He said the words softly, reverently.

“I’ve never seen it before, they suit you.” You smiled at him and he smiled back.

“Ready?” He holds his arm out to you, his eyes still warm and inviting and you nod. His request had been unexpected, forcing you to wear the same dress as the night before and he frowned when he spotted the blood staining it. “I should have had something here for you to wear.” He reprimanded himself but you waved it away.

“I should have thought to pack a bag. It’s nothing.” You speak as he leads you out, eyes hardening once you’re in the presence of the guards outside.

——

Imperious. That was the only way to describe him while in public.

He was above everyone, except you. It was almost as if no one else existed with the way he carried himself and if you were honest, it was completely addictive.

Walking through the high end department store, you could see the faces of the workers appraising him - taking stock of his little entourage. Taking stock of his clothes and the air of superiority. They took stock of the proverbial dollar sign flashing above his head.

He commanded attention and the employees rushed to give it to him. Within a few minutes he had a handful of them bringing the both of you champagne, had them clearing out the ladies section for the two of you to privately shop.

“What do you want to see first?” He was sitting beside you on a chaise lounge, legs crossed and relaxed as he watched them bring out designer dresses, pant suits and skirts.

“I- I don’t need this much.” You were a little overwhelmed with the sheer amount of clothes being paraded in front of you. You saw designer brands you never would have been able to afford, things you might have seen on Cher, or on the strip. Women on the arm of the high rollers, you supposed that was you- for right now anyway. He ignored you.

“Let's start with a dress. I want to replace this one, and I’d like to get you some for day time.” He spoke to them, but he watched you. “Go, try them on and show me.” Imperious.

They brought out dresses of every colour and style, confections made of tulle and lace. Gorgeous silk numbers and skin tight catsuits. He chose a few that you knew would accentuate your best features. A halter number, a gauzy dress with beautiful puffed sleeves. A shimmery dress dripping in sequins he said you had to have. His tone booked no argument and the few ladies helping you dress had a look that said you are so lucky in their eyes, and you were.

“Some trousers, whichever style you like. Some blouses as well.” He spoke, the man you usually saw with him had brought him the newspaper and he was skimming it between changes.

“Are you getting me a whole new wardrobe baby?” You were giddy, so many pretty things you would have had to work years in order to afford were yours with a nod of his head.

“I’m getting you whatever I want, whatever I want to see you in.” He said it with a smile and wink and you could have floated with the way he made you feel. “Shoes next - some lingerie and panties too, whatever she wants. I just have to make a call, darling. Pick what you like.” His man led him to a phone in another room while you picked out your accessories.

You had everything picked out by the time he came back and he smiled at your choices, raising an eyebrow at a pair of gorgeous sky-high heels. You had panties and intimates picked out, they were wrapped up in tissue paper and in neat little boxes. Not the kind of thing this store liked to just fold up and toss in a bag. It was better this way, he had no idea what was in there.

“I’m done!” You smiled brightly at him.

“Almost done-” He gestured to the manager “-I want to see the jewelry.” His hand came up to rest on your lower back, sliding around to rest on your hip. You looked up at him, ready to tell him it wasn’t necessary but he raised his eyebrows at you. A look on his face that clearly said I’m not asking and you sighed. He was incorrigible.

The ass-kissing manager was practically vibrating beside your escort, guiding you through to the fine jewelry counter.

You stood there staring at everything on display. So many precious jewels glittering back at you. A necklace with a ruby the size of a chicken's egg, pearl earrings, tennis bracelets. So much gold shining against the felt they rested on. Your hands came up to feel them almost involuntarily.

“Diamonds. Diamond earrings and a necklace - show me what you have.” He waved away the gold and the jewels. The smile on the manager was borderline manic and his hands shook as he unlocked a separate display, bringing out a tray of pure starlight. Crystal clear diamonds set in every type of jewelry you could think of and while your eyebrows shot up into your hairline - his expression remained neutral and impassive. Critical of the cut and clarity of the stones set in front of him.

“These.” He took a pair of diamond studs out and held them up to your ear - appraising how they look against your skin. “Definitely.” He put them down separated from the rest. He zeroed in on a thick band of tiny diamonds, a choker.

You saw a little smile on his face as he lifted it and held it at your neck.

“This one.” He was looking at you, but you could imagine what he was seeing and you licked your lips at him. “Pack it up, we’re done.”

---

He didn’t let you carry anything. He had men for that, they carried everything up to the hotel room for you and when the door closed he pushed you up against the door, his thigh coming up between yours as he licked into your mouth insistently. Your heart raced as he caged you in. one hand grabbed at your ass and one came up to hold your throat. It made your heart race and your pussy throb.

“I have a meeting, but I’ll be quick baby girl.” He was holding your throat a little tighter now, enough to get a whimper out of you. He spoke as he kissed you softly, little open mouthed kisses between sentences. His tongue peaking out and catching your lip each time. It was dizzying. “When I come back, I want to lick your pretty pussy.” Another kiss. “Want you to ride me.” another slow lick into your mouth, you felt your cunt aching. Arousal burning low in your belly as his firm thigh pressed up against your core. “I can fuck you outside again if you like.”

He smiled as he kissed you again, softly - and pushed away from you. You almost sagged down but he caught you around your waist, pulled you up for one more kiss.

“Hurry back, I’m already dripping for you baby.” You licked at his neck, meaning every word.

“Good, your panties better be soaked for me when I get back, and I don’t think I have to warn you not to cum until I get here. Daddy will have to spank you if you do.” He winked and walked out the door, closing it as you laughed.

I’ll be waiting for you daddy you thought to yourself, a plan already forming in your mind.

You didn’t think he’d actually be quick no matter how much he wanted to. You understand that, so you take your time in getting ready for him. You took a quick shower, wanting to smell good. It was hard not to linger on your clit when you washed, you were so turned on. The thought of him spanking you only added to it but you resisted. You tried your best to fix up your hair, smoothing it out as much as you could without your rollers.

You put on one of the new bras he’d paid for, sheer cream coloured lace so fine you could see your nipples through it. A silky pair of high waisted panties that did nothing to cover your ass along with your new high heels.

You put on your jewellery, the choker and the earrings. You looked at yourself in the mirror and you were happy with what you saw but you were missing something. You check in your bag and find a little pot of rouge and put some on your lips.

Perfect, time to wait.

---

“Baby, you better be naked - “ You heard him speaking and when he caught sight of you the words died in his mouth. You knew instinctively that it took a lot to surprise him, rendering him speechless was a victory and you fought hard to keep your face neutral.

“You took a long time. Almost got tired of waiting for you.” You raised your eyebrow at him.

There was a little smile on his face now that he’d recovered, and he made his way over to where you were on a plush chair in the little sitting area.

“Did I? Am I about to get punished?” He was standing in front of you now, towering over you but you raised your chin, defiant.

“You might.” You brought your leg up to press your heel against his chest, stopping him from lowering down to your level and he groaned deep. Your little display turned him on more than he let on.

“I didn’t say you could touch me.” You pushed him back but he caught your ankle. Pressing a kiss to your calf before letting you lower your leg. You got up and he expected you to kiss him but you stopped him, you could see how dark his eyes had gotten and you turned him around to all but push him into the chair.

“What am I in for now baby?” He sat with his legs open, giving you room to stand in front of him and his hands were itching to touch you, restlessly rubbing at the chair and his thighs.

“You are going to sit there, and take it like a good boy.” You straddled him, you picked this chair because it was big enough for your legs to fit between him and the arms. He brought his hands onto your thighs to rub them and as much as you loved the feel of them you grabbed them and placed them onto the arms of the chair.

“Hands to yourself.” You pressed yourself up against him. “Do you like my necklace?” You wrapped your arms around his neck and gave him those same little open mouthed kisses he’d teased you with before he’d left. He moaned into your mouth.

“Yes baby, I like your necklace. Want to see you in nothing but this necklace.” You could feel how tense he was, how badly he wanted to take control but he let you carry on.

“Soon daddy. Soon as I cum.” You smiled at him. Watching his mouth as you slowly unbuttoned his shirt, running your hands over his chest and stopping to pinch his nipples. He rewarded you with a growl. You could feel how hard he was underneath you.

“You’re playing with fire, little one.” He was smiling, but you could hear the iron in his voice. Could see the strain within him to let you do what you wanted to do. You were drunk on the power he let you have.

“Something-” You rolled your hips over him, feeling him stiff beneath you “-tells me you like this.” You couldn’t help but giggle, his eyes were black pools of lust and the element of danger was making you giddy. You had no idea how far you could push him.

“Mmm.” He was watching your hips, licking his lips as he took in your body, the silk barely covering your soaked pussy, the sheer lace barely covering your nipples. You took advantage and scooted back a bit and undid his belt and trousers. You got up to pull everything down a bit, you wanted all of him exposed.

His cock was so hard, it looked painful. Red and oozing precum, you licked the tip quickly, unable to resist it and cherished the pained groan he let out. When you straddled him again you lifted up a bit, moved your panties to the side, and lined him up. You lowered yourself much slower than necessary. With how wet you were there was no resistance.

He groaned when you sat flush to him. There was a light sheen of sweat all over the skin of his chest and on his forehead. You imagined it was from the tension of holding himself still. Your hands were braced on his chest and you could feel your slick seeping out of you, soaking the curls at the base of his cock.

“God you’re so big, how do I feel?” You rolled your hips slowly, far too slowly.

“Feel so good, getting me all wet baby, but you’re going too slow.” he bucked up harder than he had any right to and the force of it sent a shiver down your spine. Made an angry flush crawl up your chest and onto your cheeks.

“You’re such a bad boy.” It felt too good for your words to have any conviction. He smiled, and did it again.

“Am I? Seems like someone-” He slid his fingers in between your bodies, feeling the wetness leaking out of you and bringing it up to his mouth to lick it. “-likes it.” His smile was wolfish, and he pushed against your little game. He bucked up again and you moaned loudly.

“Come on baby, you were doing so good, fuck yourself on my cock like you wanted to.” There was a shift, and he was in control again. Despite you being on top of him, despite him keeping his hands to himself he was running the show. You brought your hands up and grabbed at your tits through your bra, pinching your nipples so he could see and his resolve crumbled slightly. Another shift.

“You like my tits baby?” You pulled the cups down to show him, rolling your hips a little faster now and his expression was serious, he was focused on your fingers. “Want to taste?” You grabbed at his hair rough, like he liked and pulled him towards you. He broke.

His hands shot out and grabbed your ass, lifting up off the chair while holding onto you, his dick still inside and he walked you over to the bed.

He kicked off his pants as he went - the two of you tumbling into bed and you quickly wrapped your legs around him. He paused momentarily to shrug off his jacket and his shirt and once he was free he pulled your arms up roughly, holding them both above your head while he licked at your nipple. He bit at it, making you hiss and then smoothing it out with his tongue.

“You liked teasing me huh?” He lavished the other with the same attention, your pussy fluttered around him, another wave of slick drenching him. You yanked him up by his hair, felt him groaning underneath you before you kissed him, it was messy and you were both breathing hard and you gasped into it when he snapped his hips forward. Your whole body moving up the bed. He set a brutal pace and you knew you were going to feel it later.

You were moaning into his mouth, your brows were scrunched up against his assault and the coil in your belly was about to snap.

“You like it like this huh? You like when I fuck you hard? Just-like-this?” He accentuated every word with a hard thrust and it was too much, there were no words left, only incoherent sounds and the sweat between your bodies. The feel of him and wet suck of your pussy, the noises from his thrusts, the sound of his breath. He snaked one arm behind your head, resting onto it to reach down and rub your clit with the other.

“That’s it baby, soak me, cum on my cock like a good girl.” He burrowed his face into your neck while he sped up, his fingers gliding against the little bundle of nerves and you shattered. The clench of you was almost painful and you whimpered.

“Jesus christ, gonna fill you up baby, gonna fill you full of me.” His thrusts were becoming erratic and you felt him spurting, felt him painting the inside of you with his spend. You laughed after, giddy from the release and he smiled at you.

----

You were sitting at the lounge a few hours later.

The sequins on your dress were reflecting the light, breaking it up into a million little pieces through the smoke and haze of the club. He was speaking to his man, the assistant that kept him up to date on everything from the temperature outside to important business matters.

You wanted for nothing when you were with him and your glass stayed full in the VIP section you were currently in. The velvet rope kept you separate from everyone else. You could feel eyes on you, patrons in the club curious about who he had with him, about his arm around your shoulder. You watched them back.

You watched the expression on the faces of the servers and the security. Watched them eye him when he wasn’t looking. You saw awe there, saw their eyes dart nervously ready to look away if he noticed. You saw fear there too.

Maybe it was because he had his mean face on, despite the warm softness of his hand on your shoulder - his eyes were dark. Hard and unyielding. You watched him now, watched him ignore everyone except his assistant. His eyes drifted though, you followed his line of sight seeing another working girl at the end of it. A gorgeous girl you knew named Maggie. What he didn’t know - was that you and Maggie had been together before. Both in and outside of work.

You weren’t jealous- you never had been, there was no reason to be. Not in your line of work.

She caught your eye and a thought occurred to you.

“Baby, we should invite her in.” You cooed in his ear, knowing he was looking. He gave you a sly smile and nodded his head. He signalled to one of his security guys and within minutes she was led over to you. You smiled and pulled her down beside you and quietly whispered your plan into her ear. She was a little nervous but excited.

He was a little more distracted now, it was hard for him to pay attention to anything aside from your hand on Maggie's thigh. The way she whispered into your ear, plush pink lips kissing your neck. Soft giggles and murmurs beside him and he was utterly entranced.

He tried, you could see how hard he tried to focus on whatever his assistant was saying but his eyes were glued to the two of you.

“Why don’t we head back to the hotel?” Your voice was angel soft, making sure he watched you as you kissed her. Her lips were much softer than his and you could taste the lip balm she used. His eyes were lust blown and within a few minutes you were all headed out.

“I think you should tell the driver to take the long way back.” You spoke to him as you got in. The two of you flanking him, the two of you pressing soft kisses to his neck, you on one side and Maggie on the other.

“What are you two plotting?” His arms wrapped around both of you.

“Just want to make you feel good.” Maggie was lowering down and you followed. Her big doe eyes focused on him.

You took charge and started undoing his belt, pulling down his zipper and pulling his cock out. He was half hard and you stroked him a couple of times, while she kissed your neck. Her hands rubbing at his thighs and he was watching the both of you.

“Isn’t his cock gorgeous Maggie? You should taste it.” You gently guided her towards him, angling his dick towards her mouth and when she took the tip of him in her mouth he moaned.

“Does her mouth feel good baby?” You cooed at him as she hollowed her cheeks prettily.

“Yes, it feels good, but I want your mouth too.” He rubbed at your bottom lip with his thumb and you smiled, dipping down to take one of his balls into your mouth. He moaned watching the two of you go to work on him, alternating between each one of you taking him fully and laving at him with your tongues at the same time. Moaning as his hands came up to grasp you both around the back of the neck. Sharing him with her was turning you on more than you could say and you could feel your slick soaking your panties. You could feel them sticking to you with every movement.

He was so slick, the velvet skin of his cock sliding against your tongues. Maggie licking up, and you licking down. The alternating rhythm of it driving him into a frenzy.

“You gonna cum baby?” You were stroking him against her tongue and you could see his stomach clenching, could feel his balls tightening up.

“Yes, yes open your mouth.” He grasped himself and started pumping while the two of you waited with your mouths open, tongues out and when he came you tried to catch all of it. Whatever landed on your face was licked up by Maggie, and you did the same for her. The two of you kissed messily as he recovered and you could hear him groaning.

You pulled her towards you on the floor of the limo so she lay with her back against you. Both of you staring up at him. He looked wrecked.

His cock glistening with your combined spit against his belly as you spread her thighs over yours. You pulled her dress up so her panties were exposed, kissing her neck while you watched him.

“Look how wet she is baby, look how wet her pretty pussy got from sucking your dick.” You pulled her panties to the side to show him. You glided your fingers along her slit, dipping into her slightly while her pretty moans filled the cab of the limo. You lifted your fingers and put them into your mouth.

“Tastes so good.” You moaned around your fingers, stopping to kiss her neck. He said nothing, just watched you, his cock hardening once more as you pulled the straps of her dress down, her breasts spilled out and you palmed them.

“I think she wants your fingers, why don’t you show me how deep you can get.” He palmed himself as he spoke to you and you obliged him, slipping two of your fingers into her cunt. She moaned and threw her head back onto your shoulder.

“Kiss me.” her voice was so soft in your ear and you couldn’t deny her. You kissed her as your fingers speared into her, your tongue licked into her mouth. You could hear how wet she was.

“Make her cum, I know you can.” He was stroking himself, watching you bring Maggie closer and closer to the edge and you reached down with your other hand to focus on her clit. Both your hands worked in tandem and when she came you could feel her clenching around your fingers. “Good girl.” He was speaking to you as Maggie caught her breath.

You barely made it up to the room before he was practically ripping your dress off. The three of you frantically undressed each other as you made it over to the bed.

“Maggie, why don’t you lay down, and open your legs. I want to see your pretty little cunt.” His voice was honey sweet and she scrambled to obey. He turned to you then and guided you onto your hands and knees on the bed, your face inches away from her cunt.

“You want her to eat your pussy?” He was looking at Maggie “She’s real good with her tongue aren’t you baby?” His hands were at your hips, sliding down to your ass, spreading it to see how wet you were. You could feel him rubbing the tip of his cock through your folds, dipping into your wetness.

You scooted closer to Maggie, the lips of her sex blushed with her excitement and you could smell her arousal. It was making you drip onto him and you couldn’t help but dive in. Her hands threaded through your hair as you parted her with your tongue, tasting her arousal and focusing onto her clit.

“That’s it, make her cum I know you can.” He buried himself into you, his hips flush with the plump swell of your ass. He reached around to glide his fingers against your clit and you moaned onto her skin. You sucked her clit into your mouth and by the sounds she was making you knew she wouldn’t last long. You slid your fingers into her, trying to keep still as he thrusted into you. When she came she pulled you up, kissing you as she clenched around your fingers, soaking them with her slick.

She kept kissing you, her tongue sugar-sweet in your mouth as he fucked into you. The force of his thrusts was brutal, wet and obscene and you were whimpering into her mouth.

“That’s it, swallow up those pretty sounds while I ruin her tight little cunt.” he rubbed at your clit between pointer and middle finger, surrounding it in a deliciously wet glide and you broke. You floated away with her tongue still in your mouth. You felt him curl around you as he came, his cock twitching inside you.

You lay there panting, trying to catch your breath when he walked over to his jacket, naked and confident.

He was gentle with her, slipping some money into her hands as she got dressed. You heard him telling his man at the door to drive her wherever she wanted to go, to make sure she got there safely. You were still laying there, satisfied and sated when you heard the shower turn on.

You were both quiet as you bathed each other, a little frown on his face. His hands were gentle, holding you close to him as he rubbed at the smooth skin of your back. The steam enveloping you both and you got the sense that he wanted something else right now. You could feel the need for tenderness. For something other than sex and you gave it to him.

You ran your fingers through his hair, you wrapped your arms around him and pressed your face to the wet skin of his chest.

"You okay baby?" You were looking up at him with a soft smile, through the wet strands of your hair.

"Call me by my name when we're alone, call me Din." You didn't think it was possible but his eyes were softer, wide and kind.

Oh fuck.

----------

Tag list: @frannyzooey @foli-vora @danniburgh @sambucky21 @greeneyedblondie44 @lola4pedro @ezrasbirdie @221bshrlocked @artsymaddie @supernaturalgirl20 @sleep-tight1 @softdindjxrin @wheresarizona @sherala007 @marydjarin @cannedsoupsucks @thirstworldproblemss @ilikechocolatemilkh @lori-tovar @freeshavocadoooo @hrk-fic-recs @greeneyedblondie44 @maxwell--lord @princessxkenobi @the-feckless-wonder @kirsteng42 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @thisshipwillsail316 @feministfanboi @dihra-vesa @gaiuswrites @stevie75 @sweet-creature98 @readsalot73 @tobealostwanderer @elegantduckturtle @diogodxlot @alczysz17 @evyiione @absurdthirst @beskarboobs @andruxx @littlemissoblivious @1800-fight-me @goldielocks2004 @maievdenoir @gracie7209 @omlwhatamidoinghere @bellaorisa @hellovanessax @magikfanatic @frankiecatfish @mrs-ghuleh @pedritoispunk @librariantothejedi @studythoreauly @missswriter @prostitute-robot-from-the-future @pintsizemama @mswarriorbabe80 @a-trial-run-on-paper @giizhkens-cedar @la-le-lu @writerdee1701 @dobbyjen @rosiefridayrogersunday @ajeff855 @anaaaispunk @johnsrevelation @the-witty-pen-name @zombiesnips-blog @quica-quica-quica @sarahjkl82-blog

#mob boss!din #silk #din djarin au #din djarin x female reader #din djarin fanfiction #din djarin x you #din dijarin x reader #din djarin #din djarin smut #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal

391 notes · View notes

awanderingdeal · 3 years

Text

Never too late - 8

An eternity later and it is here! Part 8 of 'Never too Late'. How much of this is me projecting? You'll never know.

CW: Food, alcohol, feelings of queer exclusion at prom, coming out, [very minor and it is shut down] compulsory sexuality.

Please message me if you feel I missed anything out.

Just a note, that due to the POV of this fic, there is a lot of linking between relationships and romance to prom. I just want to reiterate that prom absolutely does not have to be a romantic event if you do not want it to. The beef is more that queer kids do not always have the choice to go with their partners safely, and the stress of not knowing whether it would have been okay or not.

I hope that all of you that wanted to were able to have the prom you wanted and if you weren't able to, please know it is just ONE day. Throw your own if you want to. Don't if you don't want to. I know for myself, I have a lot of feelings about it, so please don't read this if it going to upset you.

Rating: T

Previous and future chapters can be found on my masterlist.

All credit for Sweater Weather and these characters go to @lumosinlove

8. Go to a dance. Kiss your first love. Well, at least you think they are anyway. But remember kids, consent always.

Leo was excited, to say the least. Sprawled on his bed, laptop in front of him and his cell to the right, he knew it was getting late, but he wanted to research a little longer. He had a venue and a catering team locked down; the latter he had done reluctantly, after yet another person had told him that he absolutely could not cater the event himself.

His phone buzzed insistently, and Leo grunted. Why would anybody call when you could just text? He grunted again when he read the caller id.

Regulus. What a traitor.

“Hello?” Leo answered, rolling onto his back. He felt a tightness in his lumbar region, and made a mental note to mention it to Hestia in the morning if the sensation was still there when he woke up.

“Go to sleep.”

“ I will soon,” Leo hummed. “Did you look at my text?”

“Leo. It’s 2am.”

“Yes, I worked very hard to learn to tell the time, thank you.” In truth, the last time Leo remembered checking the time, it had still been the previous day. Logan had a popped his head around the door to tell Leo that he and Finn were going to crash in one of the other rooms, and that Leo should get some sleep soon. Leo had nodded and assured Logan he wouldn’t be too long.

Regulus’ sigh on the other end of the phone interrupted his memory.

“And you’re getting cranky,” Regulus said. Leo could imagine the smooth raised eyebrow that accompanied the words. “If I tell you which theme I like, will you go to sleep?”

Leo shifted, pushing himself up against the stack of pillows. He nodded eagerly, before remembering Regulus couldn’t see him. “Yes. I promise.”

“I like both -”

“That is not helpful!”

“Wait a second. Merde. You should combine them.”

“That’s,” Leo wrinkled his nose, contemplating the idea. “That’s actually kind of genius.”

“You can thank me later,” Regulus offered smugly. “After you’ve got some sleep.”

***

“So Reg, who’s the lucky person who gets to be your date to this thing?” Finn asked, plucking a brownie from the plate in the middle of the table, before settling into the seat opposite Leo.

“It’s not a thing!” Leo protested.

“Sorry, babe. This prom,” Finn grinned.

Regulus worried his lip between his teeth, looking first at Leo and then turning his gaze back to Finn. “Do I have to go with someone?”

“Yes,” Finn said resolutely, at the same time as Leo shook his head, giving the opposite answer.

“No,” Leo repeated, narrowing his eyes at Finn. “People go to prom with friends all the time.”

“Okay, yeah, fine. You don’t have to,” Finn agreed, giving a placating smile. Leo hated that it worked. If he were being honest, they should probably utilise the O’Hara smile in diplomatic relations. “But don’t you want to have the quintessential prom kiss?”

“Finn -”

“I was actually thinking I could borrow Leo,” Regulus rolled his eyes, voice dripping with sarcasm.

Apparently Finn didn't catch it though. His face contorted into a thousand different expressions in the space of a second. Conflicted. Contemplative. Accepting. “Well...I guess I’d be okay with it, if Leo is, but Lo-”

“That was a joke, Finn,” Regulus laughed.

“Oh, right,” Finn laughed as well, the tips of his cheeks tinged pink. “Well. Yeah. Prom kisses are nice. I had sex for the first time on my prom. Although, she did cheat on my two months later, so maybe I’m not the best example to follow,” he rambled.

“That was a lot to learn about somebody in a very short amount of time," Regulus commented, clutching his mug between his hands.

Finn shrugged, leaning forward to grab another brownie, seemingly uncaring about the wealth of information he had just offered.

***

“Hey, Le?”

Leo looked up from his phone, finding Regulus hovering next to him, shifting his weight from foot to foot. He cocked his head slightly in question.

“Can we talk?”

Leo frowned, setting his phone down on the coffee table and patted the seat next to him on the sofa. “You don’t usually ask,” he smirked.

Regulus’ smile back seemed strained, but Leo didn’t comment on it. “Earlier,” Regulus started as he took a seat, playing with the tips of his fingers before he stopped abruptly, placing them in his lap. “In the kitchen? What Finn said?”

Leo sighed gently, “Ignore him. Finn’s mouth and his feet are well acquainted. You know Finn. He just doesn't always think before he speaks. I’m sorry if he upset you.”

“You shouldn’t apologise for your boyfriend. If I wanted an apology I would have gone to him.” ” Regulus chided. His expression softened, his next intake of breath larger than usual. “Can you just listen?”

“Sorry,” Leo turned to look at Regulus properly. “You were saying?”

Regulus gave a small nod. “I don’t think I want that.”

Leo opened his mouth to speak, remembered Regulus’ request and snapped it shut again.

“Not the kisses. Not the sex. None of it. I think I’m asexual” The words came out in a single, hurried burst, but Regulus seemed to stumble over the last one, as if it was unfamiliar to him, unpractised. Leo could picture his friend frantically asking google questions, refining each search as he learned new information. He’d been there himself once.

A silence hung in the air, the two of them staring at one another, with an intensity that was making Leo feel uncomfortable, but he didn't want to be the first to break eye contact.

“Désolé," Regulus blinked. "Say something. Please."

Leo shuffled forward, his arms outstretched. “I’m going to hug you now.” He waited a beat to allow Regulus to protest, before pulling him close. Regulus sat stiffly, taking a moment to relax into the embrace and when he did, Leo squeezed him a little tighter. “Thank you for telling me.”

“I knew you’d be okay with it,” Regulus grumbled. Leo was sure he heard a hint of relief despite the attempt to appear ambivalent. He let Regulus go, putting some space between them again, knowing his friend had more personal space boundaries than Leo was used to dealing with.

“It’s still scary. Even if you’re almost certain it’s going to be alright. And just in case you need to hear it, I love you, you’re valid and even if you decide that’s not the right label for you that’s okay too.”

“What are you? Like, gay Yoda?” Regulus gave a small laugh, but he sniffed wetly. “Thanks.”

“A Jedi uses the Force for knowledge and defence, never for attack,” Leo made a fist, wrapped his other hand over the top and bowed his head.

“Nerd.”

“Wait, can I ask you a question?” Regulus’ consenting nod was slow and tentative. “Does this mean you’d prefer if I stop sending you half naked photos every other day?” Leo let the corner of his mouth curl into a smirk.

Regulus barked a very uncharacteristic laugh, deep and loud. “While I can appreciate the aesthetic appeal of Chris Evans, yes, I’ve seen enough of that man to last me many lifetimes .” He punched Leo lightly in the knee. Leo raised an eyebrow at the very frat - boy inspired action, and Regulus made a face that suggested he wasn’t quite sure where it had come from either. “I’m sure company is not an issue for you in this household, but don’t worry I’ll still watch The Avengers with you.”

“A real hero,” Leo drawled. “Hey.” He met Regulus’ eyes, his tone taking on a more serious note again. “You know you can tell Finn. And Logan, right? If that’s what you want. Whenever you’re ready. They’ll be cool.”

“Yeah,” Regulus breathed. “I don’t doubt it.”

“And if they’re not. I’ll personally kick them in the balls for you.”

***

Leo fussed with his bowtie in the mirror, tilting his head this way and that, trying to decide if it was straight.

“Stop. You look great. They’re going to die,” Regulus declared, making Leo jump slightly. He’d known the man was in the room, but his best friend had a habit of just appearing beside him unannounced.

Leo took another look in the mirror, running his fingers over the slightly raised texture of his initials monogrammed into the teal suspenders. “Yeah, I guess I’ll do,” he hummed, turning to face Regulus, scanning his eyes over him. Even Leo had been surprised by Regulus’ choice of attire, knowing now why he had kept the outfit such a secret. “Bold choice,” he remarked.

“Too much?”

“No,” Leo shook his head. Maybe it would have been on somebody else, but Regulus wore the mustard yellow three - piece effortlessly. He reached out to touch the blue sapphire that embellished the lapel, a gold chain linking it to the breast pocket. “Not at all. I’m just jealous.”

“Alright boys, are we ready?” Alex asked, clapping his hands together.

“Yeah.”

“As we’ll ever be.”

“Ready!” Kuny boomed, making a show of checking his pocket watch, the gold chain attaching it to his vest was somehow, even more ornate than Regulus’.

The four of them turned to glance at Remus, the only one in the room left to reply. Shrugging his jacket over his shoulders, Remus smiled. “I guess I can’t play with this tie any longer.”

“Alright then. I don’t know a lot about you guys, but I want to see my boyfriend,” Alex rocked on his feet, Leo chuckled, the man pretended he was so much more chill than his younger brother, but excitement seemed to bubble under his skin all the same. Leo didn’t blame Alex though, separating the partners into different rooms had seemed like a good idea earlier in the evening, but now he just wanted to see Finn and Logan, ideally before he exploded with anticipation. He couldn’t help but feel a little sorry for those of them that had to wait for their partners to arrive from the Potter’s house, where the ladies had opted to get ready.

“Yes. I want see Jackson,” Kuny nodded resolutely.

“Lord, help me,” Regulus whined. Leo just laughed, wrapping an arm around his friend’s shoulders.

***

“Cap! Stop undressing Loops with your eyes, he put a lot of effort into finding that suit.”

“Kuny. Put Nado down. There are people here.”

“Harzy. Are you crying?”

“You can close your mouth now, Leo.” Regulus tapped a finger lightly against Leo’s jaw. He would have tried to defend himself from the accusation, but he couldn’t deny the quiet clink of his teeth snapping back together.

“I’m just going to need a minute,” Leo mumbled, dragging his eyes over Finn and Logan’s bodies.

“Take your time,” Regulus chuckled. “Is-” Regulus leaned forward, squinting slightly. “Does Finn’s jacket match the invites.”

“I think they’re flowers.” Although, from afar, the swirls of blue and silver painted over the jacket did resemble the night sky artwork the two of them had settled on for the invites. Leo had insisted they needed them despite Regulus’ very valid point that saw all of the attendees at least once a week. “I’m going to go and check,” Leo waved a hand towards his boyfriends. He could see Logan’s lips moving, Finn’s grin widening with each word and Leo wanted in on that conversation.

“Sure,” Regulus hummed. “You go and do that.”

Leo stole a glance behind him as he crossed the short distance of their lounge, feeling a pang of guilt about leaving Regulus so easily on what was supposed to be his night. He needn't have worried though, he had barely taken a few paces before Regulus was swarmed by Thomas and James. Leo huffed a laugh at Regulus' disgruntled expression as they fawned at his suit.

***

“Leo. Regulus. Welcome! These must be your guests.” Estella, the only one of fifteen event planners that he and Regulus could agree on, smiled wide. “Is everybody here? I can always have somebody come and meet any stragglers?”

“No, this is all of us,” Leo confirmed. Corralling everybody into the two limos had been a task, but somehow they had all managed to make it to the museum without anybody being left behind.

“Alright then. Follow me. I think you’re going to love what we’ve settled on.” Estella turned on her heel, tight curls bouncing behind her as she led them up the grand staircase. Leo had been to The Natural History museum many times during the day, but the place had a strange sense of awe without the usual bustle of visitors, and he couldn’t wait to see what the events hall had been transformed into.

Estella pushed the ornate double doors open, blocking the entrance with her body. She must have noticed how Leo’s feet itched with anticipation because she gave a small smirk as she stepped aside. “Enjoy your evening, gentlemen. I’ll be around should you need anything."

Leo looked back at the group behind him; his team, his friends, his family, and felt the pool of anxiety that had been bubbling in his stomach all day, churn again. This evening had started off as being for Regulus, but it had quickly grown beyond that. While prom wasn’t inherently romantic, the traditions that came alongside it were embroiled with ideas that had marginalised so many of them, even if they hadn’t realised it at the time. A part of him hated that a high school event that was truly insignificant in the grand scheme of things could hold so much weight. He wanted to rebel, to not let it be important at all. Another just wanted to be able to give them all the night they had wished for back then.

“What’s the delay?” Natalie’s voice shook Leo from his head, and he glanced to his left at Regulus before moving into the room.

Estella and her team had really come through. They had weaved Leo and Regulus’ ideas on decoration into something spectacular. He had to force himself not to pause again, waiting until he was less of an obstruction to the rest of them, to stop and look up at the ceiling. There were hundreds, maybe thousands, of tiny lights strung to look exactly like the night sky. Right in the centre, Leo recognised the pattern to be that of his namesake, one light slightly brighter than all the rest.

“Hey,” Sirius clapped a hand on Regulus’s shoulder. “How come you get to be up there and I don’t.”

“Can’t stand not to be the centre of attention can you, big brother?” Regulus shot back and Sirius just shook his head with a laugh, hurrying after Remus.

***

“This one is for all you loved up folk out there,” the DJ’s voice rang through the room, the music slowly fading from a thuddy beat into the tender piano notes of the next song.

Leo winced as Marlene squealed, tugging Dorcas from her chair, the latter almost tripping over her train in the rush, although she regained her composure quickly. She moved just as swiftly in her heels as Marlene did in her black and white oxfords. He watched the two of them leave, Dorcas’ emerald green dress almost sparkling as it caught the light.

“Go on,” Regulus nudged Leo, tilting his head in the direction of where Finn and Logan had already procured a spot on the dance floor. “Go dance with your boys.”

Leo glanced at Regulus, before turning his gaze to meet his boyfriend’s eyes. He contorted his features into a series of faces that to anybody else probably seemed nonsensical, but they caught on perfectly, answering his silent question with simultaneous nods of their heads.

“Or,” Leo placed his hand, palm upright, on the table. “You could do me the honour?”

“I’m not,” Regulus wrinkled his nose. “You don’t need to -”

“Indulge me, Reggie.”

“Only if you stop calling me that,” Regulus sighed, grasping Leo’s hand. “I’m leading.”

Regulus, it turned out, could dance. Leo was passable. He let himself be led around the floor, laughing with his friend at all the couples that weren’t quite as accomplished, his boyfriend’s included.

The music flowed seamlessly from the deep tones of John Legend into the lighter ones of Taylor Swift.

“Yes! My girl, Tay Tay. Now we’re talking.”

Regulus rolled his eyes playfully, “Calm down, Le. I think your gay is showing.”

“Okay, Karen.”

“I am wounded,” Regulus clutched his hand to chest, placing it back on Leo’s hip without missing a beat. He looked up, smiling at Leo softly. “You should go and dance with them now. I think they could do with your help.”

“Non!” Logan argued, stumbling over Finn’s feet once again. “I know how to dance. It is Finn who is a liability,” he added, as they came to a halt beside Leo and Regulus.

***

Reg! Did you see Kam sent the link for the photos?

I did. You want to look at them together, non?

Oui, Oui! Come over now?

Leo waited to receive the confirmation text, before he hurried into the kitchen to compile a selection of snacks, as well as a jug of lemon water for Finn. On his final trip, he added the ever-present jug of sweet tea from the fridge to the tray, setting it all up on the table in front of the TV in the lounge.

“Baby Black is coming over then?” Logan teased, sprawling onto the sofa next to Leo.

“Sssh,” Leo whined, pressing a finger to Logan’s lips. “Otherwise no doughnuts for you.”

Logan gasped, launching himself at Leo, his hands finding the spot below Leo’s ribs where he was most ticklish. “How dare you threaten me with such things?”

“Stop it,” Leo spluttered between laughs, squirming away from the assault. Thankfully the doorbell rang just as Leo thought he was going to have to tap out, Logan letting him up to go and answer it.

It took a few minutes to get all four of them settled on the couch and the photos casting from his cell to the TV, but eventually they managed it.

Kam, and their assistant, had done a great job of capturing the entire night, from everybody getting ready to a very drunk James and Evgeni snoring softly against the giant moon structure. James was swamped by Evgeni’s checked suit jacket and James’ pinstripe one hung from Evgeni’s arm.

“Did you three plan this?” Regulus laughed as a photo of Sirius, Logan and Pascal appeared on the screen. The three of them had chosen to go with a classic tuxedo, albeit with slight variations.

“We did not. We just all have impeccable taste,” Logan retorted.

“Oh my God!” Finn sat forward, squinting at the screen. “They definitely planned that though.” He waved at the image of Alex and Kasey, their suits the same but in reverse; Alex’s jacket a navy blue with a checked grey vest and Kasey the opposite.

“Finn babe,” Leo frowned, sliding Finn’s glasses onto his face. “How did you go the entire night without noticing that. Aren’t you supposed to be the fashion connoisseur, here?”

“I was distracted!” Finn protested. “By…” he beamed as a photo of him, Leo and Logan replaced the previous image. “That.”

Regulus faked a gag, swiping at the phone to get a new photo. Any argument that was about to ensue was abruptly ended as they all burst into laughter. On the screen, a sheepish looking Pascal was being berated by Estella, her finger pointing to the sign to the left of the vine covered swing that Pascal was sitting on that read, ‘For decorative purposes only’.

They went through hundreds of photos. Some of them were sweet; Natalie with her arms wrapped around Regulus’s waist pressing a kiss to his cheek. Some of them were silly; everybody sat in rows on the dancefloor, their arms out to side. Some of them staged; Regulus and Leo sat on the big arm chairs beneath the origami stars. All of them captured tiny moments that none of them wanted to forget.

Leo tucked his head against Regulus' shoulder, trying to stifle his tears. He wasn't upset, not at all. It was just a lot. Seeing it all again. And then he remembered that all the decorations had been donated. Most of the woodland pieces, including the huge faux tree that had stood in the middle of one of the tables had gone to a local young theatre troupe that were struggling to finance their show, and the starry night pieces had gone to a group that were organising a Queer prom for the region's high schoolers that maybe didn't feel accepted at their own. For Leo, knowing that young kids like himself could take their prom photos with whomever they wanted, could truly decide whether they wanted to go with friends or their partners without fear, was the best part of all. Regulus wrapped his arm around Leo, pulling him closer.

"Thank you, I had the best prom ever."

#regulus black #leo knut #sweater weather #lumosinlove #rating: t #food #alcohol #compulsory sexuality #prom #coming out

38 notes · View notes

heloflor · 4 years

Text

Doofenshmirtz and hugs

So there’s a ‘trend’ that I noticed about Heinz and Vanessa. First off, they hug a lot. All the examples I can think of : “Finding Mary McGuffin” during the song Not so bad a dad ; at the beginning of “Hail Doofania” ; near the beginning of “Minor Monogram” ; during the third act of “Night of the Living Pharmacist” ; when they reunite in “Candace Against the Universe” ; at the end of “Last Day of Summer”.

But there’s one thing to notice : In every. single. one. of those instances, Doof never initiates the hug. In all these, it’s either Vanessa who hugs first or they hug at the same time (like in “Night of the Living Pharmacist”, which is understandable given the situation). Aside from that, the only thing that comes close to Heinz hugging first is when he opens his arms a bit (”Hail Doofania”) or when he looks like he expects Vanessa to hug him (”Last Day of Summer” ; “CATU”).

And in general, Heinz isn’t that glued to Vanessa. The only other ‘big’ examples of contact I can think of are in “Hail Doofania”, “Finding Mary McGuffin” and “Doof 101” in which he puts a hand on her opposite shoulder (opposite from him) and in “My Sweet Ride” in which he gets concerned and tries to take her forehead’s temperature. But as soon as she tries to get away, he lets her go and doesn’t protest.

I see two interpretations here (there could easily be more ways to interpret it) :

1. Despite still seeing her as his baby, Heinz understands that Vanessa is older and has her personal space; and he respects that.

2. Given his past, Heinz most likely received very little physical affection, if not none at all. In other words, he grew up not being used to be hugged. So while he does know the gesture, it’s not a reflex for him to initiate contact like that. Also, depending on how physically abusive his parents were, he may not like opening himself up like that. Although, Heinz seems fine with fighting Perry and getting hurt in the process while at the same time being extremely attached to Perry.

Finally, the fact that Heinz isn’t a hugger might explain while he and Perry never truly hugged (they were moments when they ended up in each other arms but never as an actual hug). And sadly, between Heinz not being a hugger and Perry trying to remain professional, we might not see them hug unless Perry decides to do the first step (again based on these two interpretations, especially the second one).

For all I know there might actually be moments in the show in which Heinz is extremely touchy with someone, thus debunking this; and I just somehow forgot about it but not the rest.

#Phineas and Ferb #Heinz Doofenshmirtz #Vanessa Doofenshmirtz #PnF #Flor talks

142 notes · View notes

buzzdixonwriter · 3 years

Text

Gimme Them Olde Tyme Movies…

As posted earlier, I’m in the research stage of my next two big projects; I won’t start writing the first until January 1, 2022 and while I’m shooting for June 1 as the start date of the one after that, don’t be surprised if it gets pushed back to New Year’s Day 2023.

When I’m actively writing a new project I tend to stay up late to work, 10:30pm to 2am being the most productive times for me.

But when I’m researching, well, then I can take time in the late evening / wee morning hours to read or watch TV.

I’ve been watching a lot of old movies in my spare time recently, primarily old comedy shorts plus murder mysteries and horror films from the minor studios of the 1930s such as Monogram, PRC, etc.

Let’s be generous and say a lot of old movies are very deliberately paced. Watched at normal speed they seem to drag on forever even if their actually running time is only a hour or so (B-movies were frequently only an hour or less in length to fit them easily into double features with previously released A-features).

There’s actually a technical reason for this: Before television movies were meant to be projected on large screens 20 to 40 feet across. While the relative image size may be the same as watching on a TV screen, the human mind / eye psychologically reads the image at a larger size when projected in a theater.

The most obvious example I can give of this is It’s A Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World which was directed / filmed / edited to be enjoyed in Cinerama. On even the best home TV system it moves slower and seems less funny than when projected in a theater; on the Cinerama screen the same movie zips along at a breakneck pace, every joke landing perfectly.

Fortunately YouTube (where I find most of these movies) offers a speed option for films: You can run them slower to study them frame by frame but you can also speed them up to x 1.25 / x 1.5 / x 2 times their normal speed.

This really helps a lot of these old movies, moving them along at a more modern pace. Seen at x 1.25 or x 1.5, an hour long feature can be enjoyed in only 48 or 40 minutes -- and in most cases that’s a plus.

Silent films often have the opposite problem: They tend to run too fast.

Most silent films were shot and projected at 18 to 21 frames per second; slower than that and the flicker effect becomes apparent.

Sound movies need to run at 24 frames per second in order for the audio portion to be heard properly, so silent films often appear to be jerky and sped un when run at that speed.

That problem is typically handled in modern transfers by smoothing out the frame rate with additional in-between frames generated by computer.

Of course, the bane of modern audiences is black and white photography.

They’ll forgive it in small doses such as music videos and short sequences within a film, but a typical modern viewer won’t sit through a black and white film, preferring a colorized version instead.

In fairness, colorization has improved dramatically since first introduced a couple of decades ago. Older films play into colorization’s weaknesses, turning them into assets.

Many older films are now colorized with an eye to making them look like color films from that era, not the lush vibrant 3-strip Technicolor™ of big budget Hollywood productions but the cheaper alternatives.

By leaning into this and giving the movies a faint underlying sepia tone, older films become far more accessible to modern audiences.

And there are a few older films that are genuinely helped and enhanced by colorization. Laurel and Hardy’s The March Of The Wooden Soldiers (a.k.a. Babes In Toyland) was designed to be shot in Technicolor but last minute budget slashing eliminated that possibility; its colorized version feels like an old fashion storybook and so is perfect for that film.

Likewise Things To Come and a few serials have really benefitted by being colorized with a pulp magazine palette, giving them the garish feel of old school mystery and sci-fi magazine covers, The Crimson Ghost finally seen as red, the Martians of Zombies Of The Stratosphere really being green.

Decades ago a now infamous creep denounced colorization, saying it altered the original creators’ intent.

Well, that was a load of horsesit then and now.

The original black and white versions remain for anyone who wants to study them in pristine form.

Had they been able to afford it, virtually all creators of black and white films would have shot in color.

Many of these films are now in the public domain, so that means people can do whatever they like with them (because after all the originals are still untouched; see point 1 above)

And finally, the creep then and now was a huge hypocrite because one of the creep’s earliest successes was a foreign language film that they erased the soundtrack to and redubbed with American jokes.

Which leads us to another point: Sound.

Thanks to Sonny Bono’s meddling, there are some sharpies who got their hands on old movies from the 1930s then in the public domain (primarily Westerns, but others as well), added in a few bits of modern synthesizer music in a few places, and copyrighted that version as a “new” work.

Okay, give ‘em that; they kept the movies in circulation among TV stations and home video, so let ‘em rake a few shekels in.

There are several silent films that had original orchestral scores composed for them, replaced by generic organ music when transferred to 16mm for private rental and later kept when transferred to laser disc and VHS.

Since that time the original scores have been uncovered, re-recorded, and added to the silent films.

And nothing precludes adding modern music to old movies, either. The first time I saw the 1925 version of The Lost World was at a sci-fi convention where somebody played Frank Zappa’s music.

As George Harrison once noted, all music fits any film. It may provide a counterpoint to the image onscreen, it may boost the intensity, but it will work in some fashion.

The Swedish horror faux documentary Haxan (a.k.a. Witchcraft Through The Ages) is available in several different edits, including one where the original intertitles were stripped out, replaced by William S. Burroughs narrating the film.

In the 1960s Jay Ward produced Fractured Flickers, which overdubbed old movie footage with narration and non-lip synched dialog. With modern ADR there’s no reason silent films can’t be dubbed well enough to disguise their original limitations.

There are other technical marvels to be applied. Thanks to high resolution scanning, scenes shot in a single wide angle can now be broken up into closer shots. Three-D technology can artificially add depth to flat productions. Vast libraries of sound effects and music can bolster earlier lackluster efforts.

Actors of old can be digitally duplicated and replaced.

None of the technologies above seriously impedes either the enjoyment of an older film or alters its message.

If we’re serious about informing modern audiences of the creative past, we can’t expect them to come to the material first; the material needs to be brought to them.

#media #movies #Things To Come #Laurel And Hardy #The Crimson Ghost #Zombies Of The Stratosphere #Haxan #Witchcraft Through The Ages #Its A Mad Mad Mad Mad World #Fractured Flickers #Jay Ward #colorization #YouTube

5 notes · View notes

sweetlittlevampire · 3 years

Text

Okay, I know that I don’t owe anyone an explanation, but I feel like giving one nonetheless. Or maybe I just wanna talk into the void that’s the internet, because it’s easier than talking to an actual person, but -

I don’t like May 15th.

Which is an odd thing to say, because the day per se isn’t a bad day. I have very dear friends who were born on that day. I am trying to think about them on this day, about making them happy. I am trying to make May 15 th a nice and happy day for myself. And most years, at least the past few ones, I succeeded in doing so pretty well.

But on some years, I do get remined that May 15th was also my father’s birthday, and it leaves a sour taste in my mouth. Especially if my mother decides to casually forget that there are things you simply do not say to someone else, even in jest, thank you very much.

(Heavy mentions of mental/emotional/psychological as well as physical abuse and mentions of suicide under the Read More. Proceed at your own discretion.)

If you’ve been around for long enough, you probably know that my relationship with my father was not the best. He lied to my mother about wanting children because he thought he could get her to stay with her that way. He told her he never wanted kids when I was fourteen; he successfully hid that truth from the whole family the whole time.

He didn’t hide it from me. Every minor inconvenience, every deviation from what he deemed his “standard” - and I mean even minor things, like not wanting to wear the colour socks he’d picked out for me - was met with degrading and humiliating comments, yelling, and sometimes even a beating. Every hobby I picked out - drawing, reading, crochet - every choice I made academically - pursuing languages and linguistics and literature - was met with comments that were aimed at making me feel completely worthless as a human being. Because what I love doing most was worthless to him, so anyone doing those things was a worthless person by default.

(If you ever wondered why I am so unreasonably insecure about my art and my writing at times? here’s your answer.)

I got severely ill during my teen years, which was stress-induced, and my father didn’t believe me for one second that I really was sick, despite of having an actual diagnosis, meds to take, and being unable to eat food or drink without breaking down crying because I was in so much pain (oh yeah, trying to beat your kids so they stop crying when they’re in pain does not work. We tried that too.)

It might seem super trivial, but the yellings and the beatings were so bad that I was afraid to come home from school. My father developed heavy alcoholism in his late years - he literally drank himself to his grave - and there were days on which I was begging for him to be extra drunk. Because it meant he’d probably be asleep and would leave me alone.

(Drunk enough that he was still semi-conscious was...a whole different thing,)

He wasn’t nice to my mother either. She has Multiple Sclerosis, and he tried to make her believe that she was faking it too (didn’t work). He had zero respect for neither me nor her and got physically violent with her as well, as if the whole stress wasn’t taking enough of a toll on her health as is. I remember her legs stopping to work completely for a couple of weeks because of it all when I was around six or so.

(Side note: If you’re wondering why my mother never left him - both my parents were on disability pension, but because my father got his disability pension years before my mother did, she would’ve had to pay him a special alimony, which she could never have afforded back then with her meager job and a child. She knows this because she actually consulted a divorce lawyer about it.

That, and fear. It’s a paralysing thing.)

I didn’t like my father. I think it’s safe to say that he didn’t like me either. He still expected birthday gifts on May 15th.

Which were either met with indifference, or with disgust. “That’s all? So that’s what I’m worth to you, huh? Thought so” he said while actually tossing it into the trash. ...it was an expensive stationery set with a fountain pen, a ballpoint pen, and a mechanical pencil. Emerald green with gold accents. Monogrammed.I remember this so distinctively because I had saved my allowance for almost a whole year to get the thing, simply because I foolishly thought “Hey, he always uses fountain pens. He likes those. Getting a quality one that is personalised will maybe make him like me too? Just a bit?” ...an idiotic thought in hindsight.

I still think about the birthdays. I often think about my father - I look like him. On particularly bad days, I look into the mirror, and all I see is him.

I know I sometimes behave like him, in the sense that...I kind of have a bad temper? And I tend to get loud when I’m upset. I don’t know if it’s genetics, or if it’s learned behaviour. I have told most of my friends and family to tell me whenever I’m doing it, because sometimes I do it without noticing...and I’m actively trying to unlearn it. Sometimes there are slip-ups, and I make mistakes. It happens, but please tell me if I mess up, so I can apologise and do better next time.

Now my mother is equally hot-headed, equally stubborn, equally as loud. So when we argue, it tends to get messy sometimes.

Like today. It was because of something minor, I don’t even recall what it was about, but I ended up raising my voice in frustration and anger, which frankly, was a bad move. I need to work on that.

So my lovely mother, who already told me once that I am but “a ruined human being” to her, proceeds to look me in the eye, and says:

“You are just like your father.”

And leaves the room.

And I know that she probably meant “You are just as loud as him”, but it sent me spiralling.

Because my father was a manipulative, self-absorbed, irascible, abusive human being who didn’t shy away from driving his daughter into depression and to the brink of suicide with his words and his fists.

And I’ve been wondering for the last few hours: what if she’s right? I already adopted some of his behaviour and am having a hard time unlearning it. What if there’s more? What if I am a manipulative, self-absorbed, irascible, abusive human being and I don’t notice it?

What if I’m hurting and scaring my mother in the same way that he did? What if I’m hurting my girlfriend in the same way that he did? And just cannot see it?

Look. Objectively and logically I know it’s not the case. But my brain keeps circlimg back to “But what if it IS the case?” and I am disgusted and scared and insecure and just want to crawl into a hole and never to come out again because what if my brain is right?

...May 15th, yall.

#Sweet is rambling #tw: abuse #tw: suicide mention #it's literally just the word being mentioned though #it's a long read so feel free to ignore #but I'm in a really bad place right now #so if I go quiet for a while that's why #which I don't know if I'll do yet bc socmed is distracting me #but yeah

13 notes · View notes