#OR getting hired and then someone who’s better than me shows up to shoot for fucking free

[idsb]

.

[houseofanticipation]

You're sitting with your friend Sam at a coffee shop, catching up. She's telling you about an instagram ad she keeps getting for some audiobook streaming service. "It's just crazy," she says, "because I was just telling Lucille I wanted to start reading more books but I never have the time, and then it's like instantly I'm getting these ads all the time."

"So what," you say over your steaming mug, "you think they're listening to you?"

Sam shakes her head. "Honestly I think it's almost scarier than that. They have so much information about us, they don't even need to listen to our conversations. They just know, based on everything they've gathered about me, that I'm probably someone who wants to listen to audiobooks."

"Well they can't be that smart," you say. "Because the only ads I've been getting lately are for something called Slut Cream."

Sam raises an eyebrow. "You must know I'm going to need more details."

You take out your phone and find an ad to show her. It's not difficult; literally all of the ads you see on instagram are like this. They're even showing up in other places now, on webpages you visit or apps you use. This one is one you've seen before: a beautiful woman in a crop top that just barely covers her nipples is proudly displaying a squeeze tube of the kind you'd buy sunscreen or toothpaste in. The caption says, "Being a slut isn't a hobby—it's a lifestyle! Step up your slut game with Slut Cream! Shop Now"

"I don't even know what slut cream is," you say. "All you get when you look it up is a bunch of porn."

"Well, obviously it's a way to step up your slut game," says Sam sagely. "What does it say on the website?"

"Oh, I'm not clicking the link," you say. "I don't want to encourage them! What I want to know is why suddenly this ad is all I can seem to see!"

Sam shoots you a wink. "Maybe you're just a slut. These data brokers know us better than we know ourselves."'

What neither of you know is that it's actually quite easy to buy online ad space, and they let you get pretty specific with your intended audience.

I live in the next apartment over from you. I've been watching you for a long time, studying you, listening to you through our shared wall. We've talked a few times, some terse conversation at the mailboxes or in the hall, which is how I knew enough about you to place those ads, with audience parameters so specific that probably only you and about five other people would see them. I had fun making them; hiring the model to do the photoshoot, dusting off the skills I picked up in that college graphic design course, creating a website for this fake business (though I'm disappointed you still haven't clicked through to see it). If you actually tried to buy slut cream, the website would tell you we're currently closed due to high traffic, and to check back later. Nowhere on the website does it explain what slut cream is.

A number of strange things happen to you over the course of the following day. On your lunch break you walk down the block to the deli by your office. You're in here every weekday, but today the energy here is different. People are staring you, side-eyeing you, having whispered conversations that stop abruptly when you get too close. As you're walking back to work, an old woman spits on the ground as you pass, you'd swear you heard the word "whore!" hissed under her breath. You wonder if you should say something, stand up for yourself, but she's elderly, probably confused, and you decide to be the bigger person.

In the hours after lunch, you're propositioned by no less than seven of your male coworkers. You've had to refuse a few invitations to dinner in your time, but seven in a day is completely out of the ordinary, and the things these men are offering to do to you go way outside the bounds of first date stuff. One guy tells you the conference room is empty, if you want to go for a quick fuck; another guy tells you he hasn't cum in a month, and if you sucked his cock he'd pump so much cum down your throat that you wouldn't need to eat dinner. Your boss even tells you he and his wife are looking for a third and he thought of you first, like he's offering you a big promotion. The strangest thing is that all of these men seem genuinely surprised when you turn them down. Like this sort of thing usually works with girls. One guy even says, "sorry, I was just trying to help."

It was pretty easy to hire actors for the deli and the street. You go to the same place every day, so I knew where they'd have to go and roughly when they'd need to be there. The harder part was getting your coworkers to play along, especially because I was picky about getting people who could sell the act. For a few of them all it took was money. A few of them I had to blackmail. For your boss I had to call in a favor, get his boss to threaten his job. He protested, but I think it made his cock hard, thinking about fucking you alongside his wife.

I keep this up for a few weeks. Anywhere you go I have people watching you, talking about you behind your back. I have people approaching you on the train, at the park, in restaurants, offering to fuck you like they're doing you a favor. You stay firm in your refusal—I wouldn't have expected any less from you—but I can tell it's beginning to eat at you. I watch you try to figure out what you're doing that seems to give all these people the wrong idea about you; you start to dress more modestly, talk less, even walk a little less confidently. But none of this will change anything. All it will do is make you feel more repressed.

After a month, I decide it's time to make my move. I could probably wait longer, but the anticipation is getting too much for me, and besides, you're beginning to get a little wild around the eyes. I'd hate to break you before I've had my fun. One evening, when I know you're home, I unlock your apartment with the duplicate key I had made two months ago. You're in the kitchen, washing dishes with headphones on; you didn't hear me come in. I leave the door open as I approach you, admiring the way you shake your ass to whatever it is you're listening to. I get right up behind you and stay there for a moment, lavishing in your innocence, feeling my cock strain at my belt as I imagine taking it away from you. Then I reach around front of you with both arms and plunge my hand into your panties

You shout in shock, fight back, try to push me off as the headphones fall off your head. But I've got you pinned against the counter, my full body weight against you, one hand down your pants, the other groping your breasts. Once you realize that fighting won't help, you stop struggling and ask me what I want. "Please," you say. Just hearing that quiver in your voice almost makes me delirious with lust. "Please, let me go. I don't want this, please."

I bury my face in your neck, kissing and breathing you in. You smell incredible, like fear and sweat and sex. I bring my lips up to your ear, let them brush against you as I speak. "Of course you want this, baby. You've been trying so hard to hide it, but you don't have to hide with me. Look, you left the door open for me." I let you turn your head enough to see the door hanging open just as my fingers find your clit. I'm rubbing you gently, tenderly, just the way I've watched you touch yourself through the webcam I have in your room. My other hand is under your shirt now and I'm squeezing your breast, rolling your nipple between my fingers, feeling it slowly grow full and erect. You try to stifle a soft moan and I kiss your neck again. "It's okay, baby. You don't have to be ashamed. It's okay to want to feel good. Let me make you feel good."

You clutch your face in your hands and let out a cry of frustration and humiliation and agony and pleasure. You barely know me; I'm the guy next door who sometimes looks at you a little too long. The guy you speed up to avoid in the hall. But that feeling radiating from you clit... You think how exhausting it's been, doing everything you could think of to change people's perception of you, get them to stop looking at you as a slut, how none of it has done you any good anyway. You wonder if you'd have had more fun fucking Jim in the conference room, or swallowing Dylan's cum, or having a threesome with your boss and his wife. And that throbbing in your clit, the agonizing pleasure...You remember that beautiful woman in the ad: "Being a slut isn't a hobby—it's a lifestyle!" You think about how happy she looked, how fulfilled. You remember Sam's words: "These data brokers know us better than we know ourselves."

It does feel good, doesn't it? To let me touch you, pleasure you, to let go of this act you've been holding on to. Isn't it okay to want to feel good? Why did you ever let anyone make you ashamed of that? You try out another moan, letting the pleasure well up through your chest and out your mouth. It feels good, so you try another, and another, and then you're leaning back into me, grinding up against me, delighting in the feeling of my hard cock against your ass.

"Good," I say. "You're letting go of those silly hang-ups. Now we can have our real fun." My hands still around you, controlling you, I half lead-half carry your trembling body to the bedroom. I throw you on the bed, face up so I can get a good look at your eyes, see what I've done to your mind. Those same eyes that have avoided me in the hall so many times now gaze hungrily up at me, wanting me, needing me.

Who am I do decline?

I pull off your pants and panties as a single unit, letting you take care of your shirt for yourself. I kick of my own bottoms, letting my throbbing cock slap against your leg as it springs from its confinement. Don't think I don't notice the way your whole body shivers when it touches you. I lift your legs and push your knees up towards your ears; you're remarkably flexible. It must be all that yoga I've watched you do at the place downtown. I've greatly enjoyed your visits to that place, so it's nice to see they weren't in vain.

You're afraid of me, all of a sudden. Maybe some part of you is seeing sense, realizing you'd have to be crazy to let a guy like me come into your home and fuck you like this. But what was the alternative? Have me rape you? Let me tell you, darling: I would have raped you. You feel the head of my cock gliding over your skin, exploring your inner thighs and pubic area, and tremble at my touch. I want this, you tell yourself. This is what a slut like me needs.

All the same, you cry a little bit when I penetrate you. It's not because it hurts—it does hurt a bit, but you're wet enough, and it's not entirely a bad pain. It's not because you're afraid—well, maybe in part, but that's not the core of it. You cry because you're finally letting go. Letting go of the person you used to be, or thought you were. It's the relief of knowing you don't have to pretend anymore, wrapped up with the mourning you feel when you lose a potential version of yourself. I lean across you as my cock fills you up, and tenderly, I kiss away your tears. "Hush, my darling. I'm here. I will always be here. I will love you despite what you are, when everyone else turns away in disgust."

My weight on you feels good, comforting. The way I press down on your legs, stretching you out, driving my cock so deep inside you that it brushes your cervix. It hurts a little, but is that any better than you deserve? Could a slut like you really expect to find better than this? Better than unconditional love and a desire to give you the pleasure you need?

I'm speeding up now, my face something like an animal, furious and insistent as I gaze down at you. There's darkness behind my eyes, you think, something cold and cruel. You thank God I'm on your side. My hips are like a hammer on your pelvis now, and with each thrust you feel my cock bulging inside you, throbbing and pulsating with anticipation. When I finally plant my seed in you, groaning and growling and pressing you further into the bed, you find there's something comforting about the warmth of my cum inside you. Maybe my seed will take root, make you swell up with me, make you mine. As I roll off you, huffing and panting, the tears begin to stream down your face again, this time from joy.

What did a slut like you ever do to deserve someone who loves you like I do?

[raineandsky]

#106

“[Villain].”

The villain lets out an audible groan that inevitably raises their manager’s eyebrow. A short ball of fury, basically straight out of college. Not too unlike the villain. “Is it in my contract that I’m allowed to ignore you?”

“It’s not.” He gives them a moment where he clearly expects them to turn around. They don’t. “I need you to train up the new guy.”

“Do I have to?”

Their manager nudges someone forward as they turn. “‘Fraid so. You’ve been here the longest.”

No, that’s you, the villain’s about to say. But then their eyes fall on the new hire, who looks like she’s already regretting every life decision she’s ever made. What the hell is a hero doing in a burger joint?

“Okay,” the manager adds after a long moment, “staring is rude, [Villain]. Let’s dial it back.”

Their name jolts them out of their stupor. “I– yeah, sorry. I just, uh, recognise her from, uh…” The hero waits expectantly. Their manager tips his head curiously. “… high school.”

“Oh! Old acquaintances.” The manager claps his hands like this solves everything. “Lots of catching up to do, huh? I’ll leave you guys here then—and [Villain], please, for the love of god, train her up at least a bit amidst the chatting.”

The manager gives the hero a friendly pat on the back before throwing the villain a quick smile and disappearing around the door again.

The hero stares blankly at the villain. The villain stares equally blankly straight back. “Do you work here?” the hero asks eventually.

The villain doesn’t feel too inclined to answer that. “Do you?” they shoot back.

The hero clicks her tongue, shuffling on her feet. “Why don’t you show me how the fryers work before I have to kill you for getting too personal?”

“Ah, yes, the fryers.” The villain turns to the bubbling pot of oil next to them. “Hot enough to cook chips and to dissolve a body in.”

The hero’s face scrunches up seemingly on instinct, and the villain can’t help but laugh. “Don’t worry,” they say with forced friendliness, “I change the oil before I cook food in it.”

“Okay,” the hero says like she’s three seconds from throwing up. “Is there someone else here who can show me stuff?”

“You wish,” the villain jeers. “Manager’s busy, you saw him. Only other guy here only works on Thursdays and Sundays.”

“It’s Thursday today.”

“Exactly. Not what I’d call reliable. I, however” — the villain does a twirl for dramatic effect — “am here… more often than I am willing to tell you.”

“Well.” The hero smirks, the kind of expression no one wants to see on a hero’s face. “I’m sure I’ll figure out when you’re here if I stop by enough. What, is it full time? Does villainy pay peanuts?”

The villain refrains from the urge to punch her. “Does the agency?”

The hero’s mocking expression turns flat. “I’m here undercover,” she says plainly.

“I recognised you immediately.”

“Well, I’m not here for you.” The hero pushes past them to figure out the fryer on her own. “I’m not telling you any more than that.”

“I better warn my friends you’re here, then.” The villain snorts as the hero fiddles with the knob. “Are you here to give whoever you’re looking for food poisoning?”

“I know how to cook, [Villain].”

“You’re turning the heat too low.”

The hero pointedly pulls the knob back up. “Just show me how the kitchen works, please, and I’ll consider not telling your manager who he’s working with.”

The villain fixes her with a long stare. “I could blow your cover too.” But they roll their eyes and beckon her over to the griddle anyway. “Okay, so, wrong me and I’ll shove your entire face on this.”

The villain shows the hero around the kitchen, each bit of apparatus accompanied with a lovingly detailed description of how the villain intends to use each one against the hero if she pushes her luck. The hero listens with distaste mashed into her expression the whole time.

“Let’s try and keep things civil, okay?” the hero says when she’s clearly had enough of all the different ways the villain has on hand to murder her. “I don’t fancy fighting in a kitchen, and I’m sure you don’t either.”

Oh, god, how wrong the hero is. They’re itching to grab one of those knives off the hook and just—

No. They have to play it safe to begin with, keep it lowkey, make her feel a little too safe. So they just roll their eyes and, with all the authenticity they can muster, simply say “agreed.”

[laundrybiscuits]

“Eddie,” Robin says, eyes wide in a way that means trouble. “Edward Munson, I sincerely hope your last will and testament is in order, because you are going to completely and totally die when I tell you who just got hired at Scoops Ahoy.”

Eddie groans. “Don’t tell me Tammy Thompson is giving up on her Nashville dreams.”

“No, I hate you, shut up forever, you’ll never guess.” Robin pauses, then in a dramatic whisper she’s definitely picked up from Eddie himself, says: “Steve Harrington.”

“Jesus. No shit?”

“Yeah, I have to train him. Oh my god it’s the worst. He’s so bad at, like, everything.”

She shoves at his shoulder until he moves out of the doorway of the trailer, and flings herself backwards onto his couch. “Like! Okay! I showed up to my shift thinking it would be a completely normal day in which I would be bored out of my skull distributing frozen dairy products to the flotsam and jetsam of Hawkins, and Ned’s like, hey Robin, you’re showing the new guy the ropes today. And then that freaking jackass has the freaking nerve to say—” Her voice drops a full register. “Uhh, nice to meet you, I’m Steve. Nice to meet you! God!”

Eddie cringes sympathetically, sucking air between his teeth. There’s a special kind of indignity to being so completely and utterly below the radar of Hawkins High royalty, even former bearers of the crown. It’s not as if Hawkins is a big town; Eddie’s pretty sure he could pick every single person in the graduating classes of ‘84 and ‘85 out of a crowd. He’ll probably be able to do it for ‘86 too, though he’s trying not to think about it too hard. So he’ll be a senior again (again) this fall, whatever. It’s fine. It’s whatever.

Once in a while, he wastes some time really, really wishing he’d gotten to know Robin earlier in the year. Maybe even last year. For undying friendship reasons, yeah, but also because with her in his corner, he might’ve actually passed enough of his classes to fucking graduate on his second fucking try.

But he’d only actually met her, like actually met her for real instead of passing her in the hall sometimes, when he’d let himself get suckered into rejoining band. It wasn’t like he could’ve brought his guitar in, but he let it slip to Miss Genovese that he could read music and keep time, and they needed someone to wallop the bass drum, and he figured a little experience fucking around with percussion might be the one thing he could salvage from the year. He’d just…been so goddamn tired of feeling stuck, spinning his wheels. Music was something he could actually handle; something he could actually get better at. Something he could master. He's man enough to admit he needed a win.

The actual songs were all stuffy Holst and Sousa numbers, but they’d had some fun technical bits he spent his evenings hammering out for a couple weeks. And then right around the point when he’d gotten good enough to get bored and think about quitting like last time, it had somehow wound up that shooting the shit with the gangly weirdo in the trumpet section was one of the best parts of his day. Unfortunately, by the time they’d gotten close enough for her to start bullying him about homework and shit, it had been way too late to save his chance at walking that ‘85 stage with assholes like Steve fucking Harrington.

Not that Harrington would’ve even noticed, apparently.

“Anyway, the one singular saving grace about the entire situation is that he looks even dumber in the sailor costume than I do, so at least that will make me feel better about my life until he gets fired for burning down the ice cream freezer or something like that. Eddie, I cannot stress this enough: he is so bad at this job.”

Eddie very tactfully does not bring up the litany of screw-ups that Robin’s admitted to over the last couple weeks since she started at Scoops; he just says, “Buckley, it sounds to me like you might be in need of some quality relaxation time this fine evening. I can offer you a nice cold beer, some herbal refreshment…or a fiendishly weird new song to learn with an intro riff that'll make you cry.”

Robin, inveterate nerd of his heart, sits up immediately and chirps, “New song, please!” just like he knew she would. She’s going to run off and elope with his acoustic one of these days, and he’s not even mad about it.

“Coming right up, m’lady,” says Eddie. “I promise this entire Harrington situation will be over before you know it, and neither of us will ever have to think about him again.”

(ETA: First chapter of this fic has been edited/expanded and posted on AO3)

[wavypotatochips]

i love sergio so much, can u write another one? maybe where he likes to tease reader a lot but she’s very shy and introvert so sometimes he stops doing it because he might be scared he could offender her, like he’s very soft and lovey with her and maybe they both have a crush on each other ?

𝐀𝐝𝐨𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 | 𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐠𝐢𝐨 𝐑𝐚𝐦𝐨𝐬

𝘗𝘢𝘪𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴: Sergio Ramos x Female Reader

𝘞𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘊𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵: 2.4k

𝘚𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺: You are a shy, introvert photographer who PSG hires to take pictures of the players. You have always had a soft spot for Sergio Ramos, even before you were hired. With more time spent together, your crush is just growing, especially considering how sweetly he treats you. One day, He believes he has overstepped the mark one day when he does something that makes you flee.

𝘈𝘶𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘳𝘴 𝘕𝘰𝘵𝘦: I am so sorry for the wait!! (college has me in a chokehold rn) Of course I can write another! Thank you so much for requesting (: I'm not truly sure how to convey a very shy/ introverted individual, but I tried my best! Hope you like how I represent your idea ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚!!

[Translator Spanish is used- Note that translation may be wrong.]

(っ◔◡◔)っ ♥ REQUESTS ARE OPEN ♥

With just a few seconds remaining, the striker has  a chance to score and is going to kick, but Sergio stops him, giving PSG the victory. You smile to yourself and raise your camera to your eyes while shooting pictures of everyone as the boys rush over to him to celebrate. In order to capture Ramos alone, you keep the camera raised while you wait for the ideal opportunity. As your wish is granted a short while later, you start snapping quickly. He turns to look at you and gives you a wink as you peek through the camera lens to take the picture. Your heart starts to beat quickly as a flush spreads over your cheeks. "Got any good shots?," Ricardo, one of the other photographers for PSG, inquires. Ricardo, who is your age, constantly makes an effort to start a short conversation with you despite the fact that he is aware that you might not be interested in talking. But, because you two work side by side all day, you are closer to him than the other employees. You don't say much to him; you just nod your head in return as you look down at the camera and start looking through the pictures you've shot. You are a PSG employee recruited to photograph them for the social media department. As you are far from an extrovert, it comes as a surprise to you that you even got the job. Yet, social media is to thank for your opportunity. As several of the player photographs appeared on the explore page and started going viral, someone from PSG's social media team came across your profile. The next thing you know, an interview has been scheduled, and the rest is history. With butterflies in your stomach, you take a bit longer than necessary to look at the picture you just shot of Sergio Ramos. As a spectator, you have always found Sergio Ramos to be handsome, and your emotions have only gotten stronger now that you have the chance to meet him in person and get to know him better. He never appeared to mind that you were shy, and he always adjusted how he interacted with you to make sure you were at ease, which was especially important given that you spend more than half of your time with guys. He always made sure you were comfortable, whether it was by ordering the boys to step aside when he knew you were too afraid to speak up or by leaving blue raspberry jolly ranchers on your desk when you weren't looking after noticing that you were thrilled to find a blue raspberry-flavored one day in a candy jar. He always shows you the greatest kindness, but you can never tell if it's because he likes you or is simply being nice. Even though you have the largest crush on him, your mind keeps tricking you and making you overly anxious to communicate with him more than half of the time you two speak. Despite your best efforts, it seems difficult for you to make a change.

“Y/N The team is heading back through the tunnel! We should make it back before they do tunnel shots.” Ricardo exclaims, giving you a small smile and then begins to jog towards the team tunnel. You give Ricardo a small smile as you nod your head, mentally thanking him for removing your focus from the picture of Sergio Ramos. 

Sergio Ramos looks up at the bleachers and waves to everyone before gazing straight, his smile widening as he spots you walking into the team tunnel. He takes off his shirt and slings it over his shoulder, the adrenaline pumping through his veins from the exhilaration he felt. He sees you gaze down at the camera and as you move towards the tunnel, he starts to lightly jog in your way. He hopes you would compliment him on his outstanding save. Thousands of voices in the stadium have undoubtedly already applauded him, but the only words that will truly resonate with him are those that come from your mouth. He has always had his sights set on you ever since you were hired. As he is frequently surrounded by pretentious models, something about your timidity makes him feel like you are a breath of "new air," which makes him feel compelled to protect you. There hasn't been enough talk between you and him to qualify as a conversation. While he sees you as a fragile flower, he is unsure about how to approach you. The majority of the time, he makes an effort to imply that he is interested in you by showing you small acts of kindness. Other times, though, he will playfully tease you because he enjoys seeing how you respond, whether it be with a smile or a blush to the cheeks.

You hum to yourself as you enter the tunnel, keeping your distance from the players by walking close against the wall. Ramos' voice can be heard saying "Hey Y/N!" as his arm is wrapped around your neck and rests on your shoulder. You flinch a little in surprise at what he does. Your heart beats fast as you swallow anxiously and look up. Your body begins to heat up as your eyes contact him, your eyes instantly scanning down to his tattooed, shirtless torso, which is gleaming with sweat. When you glance up into his eyes, he smiles and winks at you from above. He smirks and leans in to whisper into your ear, “Me desempeñé bien hoy porque sabía que estabas mirando (I performed so good today because I knew you were watching.)”  You let out a tiny laugh since you didn't know what to say or do. You look away as your brain begins to process how close you are to his bare chest, your heart is pounding rapidly as if it is going to burst out of your chest. You look around to try and find a way out of the circumstance you are now in, your breathing starts to get faster. Sergio obviously has no malicious intentions, but this is simply how your body responds. When he notices your irregular breathing, his smirk suddenly vanishes. "Y/N are you o-" he begins, but you hurriedly push his arm off your shoulder and move swiftly in the direction of the closest restroom. Ramos was unable to do anything but watch as you almost ran away from him, his joy leaving his body and being replaced with remorse.

And the fact that he did not see you for the rest of the evening only made him feel worse. 

Meanwhile, in the restroom, your smile never fades as you recover your breath before squealing. “Oh my gosh,” you mutter to yourself, "Oh my Gosh, I can't believe that just happened!” You start whispering as you begin to recount all that just occurred. “I performed so well today for you, Y/N.” "Oh?-" you exclaim as you put your hand on your chest, “-for me?... How sweet of you. Deberías mirar las fotos que tomé hoy, te ves tan sexy(You should look at the pictures I took today, you look so hot.)” You remember the warmth that radiated from his covered in sweat body and giggle as you put your hand on the shoulder that his arm was on. That may seem disgusting, but hey, Sergio Ramos is Sergio Ramos, so even that is acceptable. Your grin then fades as you realize you are in the restroom and you glance in the mirror. You ran away from him yet again. A few weeks ago, you made a vow to yourself that you would talk to him and return his flirtations, but once again, your feet move more quickly than your lips. You groan and run your hands through your hair, too ashamed to even step back outside to see him at this point. "Next time you better speak out!," you say, pointing in the mirror at yourself. “You can do this!" You sigh once more as you realize you must return outside in order to provide the pictures you took on the field to the social media department. You expected your next opportunity to come later that night, but as soon as you went out of the bathroom, you ran into the manager of the media department and immediately began assisting them with their needs. The following day was a rest day, so there was no team meeting. Yet, as the day of the next team practice drew near, he didn't approach you to chat as he typically does. He might occasionally wave or crack a little smile at you, but he hardly ever even blinked an eye at you. You were saddened by this because you assumed that since he now thought you were awkward, he had lost interest in you.

Days have passed, and it is now officially two weeks since your last 'regular' interaction with one another. The guys are practicing right now, and you're back in the restroom, trying to convince yourself that you can talk to him. You are holding your camera and are dressed in black leggings with a PSG windbreaker because it is a little chilly outside due to the wind. You're pacing back and forth while telling yourself, “Okay Y/N…. you can do this…. How hard can it be? You talk to people all the time…. Maybe you can practice with Ricardo first…” You bite your bottom lip, trying not to let your nerves get the best of you because you haven't even attempted anything. You sigh and check your watch, realizing that practice is about to end and that you should head back to the field right now to take any last-minute shots. You give yourself one final nod of approval before heading outdoors to the practice fields.

You go down the hallways, your eyes widen as you start to hear a lot of voices, and you start to walk quickly. Of course they end practice early the day I don't need them too, you think to yourself. You witness Ramos pouring water into his mouth outside, still without a shirt. You want to scream at the sight, but you decide against it and carry on walking. YAs you start to move, you are too preoccupied with your thoughts to notice that you are walking right toward him. “Y/N?” You become aware that you are once more in front of a shirtless Sergio Ramos when he asks a question.  Your mouth starts to open and close as if you are a fish out of water as you attempt to conceal the sound of your rapid heartbeat. Come on, say something! Your mouth starts to open and close as if you are a fish out of water as you attempt to conceal the sound of your rapid heartbeat. Come on, say something! Sergio Ramos observes your frozen state for a few seconds before smiling and shaking his head. Before leaving, he puts his palm on top of your head and slightly messes up your hair. As you turn around and watch him walk away, you are upset with yourself. This time you pushed back instead of giving in, even if your neck feels like it has been sewn shut. “Sergio!,” You call out to him. He swiftly turns around with a smile on his face as he realizes you are speaking to him first. He answers, "Yes?," back. You take a sharp breath and swallow, hoping to get rid of your nerves. “You s-should put on your shirt…. I-I don't want you getting sick.” "Alright," He nods and chuckles as he quickly pulls the practice jersey back over his head. With the last inner power you have at this moment, you approach him as he was putting his shirt back on. “Sergio, I also want to apologize,”  there is a brief pause as you glance down and start to play with your camera,“I know I don’t always show you how thankful I am for the things you do for me, but I truly am. It's just my inner thoughts getting the best of me, and I believe that if I don't know what to say- then you shouldn't say anything at all.. I'm so-" "Y/N, you don't need to apologize," Ramos interrupts you and says,  “I should've never made you feel uncomfortable by invading your personal space last game… I just didn’t know how to apologize to you so I did what I thought was best and kept my distance in hopes that it made you feel better.” You give him a puzzled expression. "I didn't feel uncomfortable at all; I just responded that way because you were too hot to handle."   Your lips are swiftly covered with your free hand as you think to yourself, there is no freaking way I just said that. Your eyes widen. Ramos' eyes light up with amusement as he approaches you, hoping to taunt you a little,"Oh yeah? So, am I too hot to handle, or did you really want me to put on my shirt because you didn't want me to get sick?” You use your hand to conceal your face as much as you can because your other hand is still holding the camera. Ramos wraps his arm around you and gives you a big bear embrace as he laughs at the sight of you feeling embarrassed. "I'm sorry, Y/N, but you are just too cute. I can't help but to mess with you a little." He glances down, but all he can see is the top of your head as you continue to mentally swear yourself out and conclude it's better to remain silent. "How about we go eat ice cream and I meet you in front of the staff housing in about two hours? He asks as he begins to rock you back and forth, "¿Eso te haría sentir mejor? (Would that make you feel better?)” He smiles once he feels you nod your head against his chest.“Great! Then it's a date.” "¿E-espera qué?(W-wait what?)" you ask, raising your head to look up at him, your chin pressing against his chest. He simply winks and releases his hold on you. "I'll see you later, princesa (princess)," he says as he turns to walk away. All you could do was look in disbelief because your brain was unable to comprehend what had just transpired. 

The one time you speak first, you get a date with your biggest crush. I suppose there are some risks that are worthwhile.

A/N: Part 2 with the ice cream date, maybe? c;

[notbecauseofvictories]

Halloween Week of Horror (Games)

It's that time of year, and as someone who (a) loves horror, but (b) hasn't had much of an appetite lately for full-length horror films, I've been struggling to find a way to embrace spooky season. Then I hit on it---text-based games!

Even I, a known video game hater, love a good text-based game. Half poetry, half clicking, and all artistry, they're one of the great, underdiscussed treasures of the modern internet. Therefore, come join me for a week of indie horror "games" about haunted houses, ghosts, secrets kept, and also Mary Toft.

My list of games is cribbed from this post and this post.

DAY 1: childhood homes (and why we hate them), vacant, i am still here, flesh, blood, & concrete, domvs

childhood homes (and why we hate them) 

after a decade, you return home

Starting with this particular game was ingenious---it plays to exactly my weaknesses: poetry, unreliable narrators, unhappy families, and the house as locus of memory/witness to horror/horror in itself.

That being said, I feel like this would reward subsequent walkthroughs even more. I took it too quickly, wanted to rush to the end when there’s too much ambiguity for that. Did Lottie kill her father? Is the house still whole and there, even after all these years, or is that a fever dream? How long was her returning? Is she there still? (....and given the mention of the house being a “second son” are we meant to understand that Lottie is trans?) I also played “my brother; the parasite” from this same creator, and would say it's even better---that kind of identity/body horror ambiguity, wrapped up in twisted maybe-love, maybe-hate, is very much my speed.

SPOOKY LEVEL: 6/10, though it's largely uncanny and reality-bending rather than actively frightening

OVERALL GRADE: A-

vacant 

Film a ghost-hunting show.

Of all the games on this list, this one felt the most lived in, the most normal-devolving-into-horror. The set-up is reasonably familiar: you are a camera woman hired at the last minute to help a ghost-hunter with her local shoot. You meet her out in what seems to be the middle of nowhere, explore an abandoned hotel that was home to some weird stuff (cults, mysterious disappearances, more than one death), crack some sarcastic jokes---

Unfortunately, it gets even weirder at that point.

Despite getting tripped up on some of the mechanics (it took me too long to figure out that there was another room on the main level) this ended up being haunting, resisting easy answers. The sudden randomness of the violence bursts through, and the ending in particular is sharp, lovely, and even more unsettling.

SPOOKY LEVEL: 4/10, aside from some sudden noises (things breaking, etc.) the horror is largely atmospheric

OVERALL GRADE: B

i am still here 

a short, unconventional ghost story and vignette reflecting on the end of a long lockdown.

Unlike some of the other entries on this list, this is not a horror game at all. Perhaps a little uncanny, since it's just you---a purple thing on a screen---wandering around a pandemic-emptied Melbourne, musing about the way the world has changed. Still, as someone who did live through lockdown, it was surprising affective.

Brief, but moving. When the screen fades to teal blue, and it’s just the ambient noise of a small pond? That was lovely.

SPOOKY LEVEL: 0/10

OVERALL GRADE: B

flesh, blood, & concrete

you find yourself in a vast, empty apartment complex.

I have gone back and forth on this one. On one hand, the central story is affective---the main character's car runs out of gas in an unnamed town, in the middle of a snow storm; she finds help in a strange apartment complex, seemingly abandoned except for a lone girl, and her "parents." The more you explore the complex, the more you reveal about the woman's intentions, and the more uncanny, unworldly, the scenery becomes.

(I would have given anything to “see” the scenes of destruction, decay and otherworldliness in full color---even in 24-bit, they were lovely.)

On the other hand, the concept and the worldbuilding had such potential that the "frame" story (a little boy, sent out to play in the snow) and the ending came as something of a let-down? Or...maybe not the ending itself (a melancholy, depressed woman driving off into the snow and being swallowed alive by meat that is love---that's a good story) but the framing device made no sense. And why could you collect items if the aim is to surrender to that powerful, overall lure?

Still, I think the replay value here would be immense. Scrolling through the comments afterwards, there are a lot of people who got very different endings, so it's a game that rewards that exploratory path.

SPOOKY LEVEL: 6/10, and mostly for body horror (meat/blood) and uncanny worldbuilding

OVERALL GRADE: B+

domvs 

a gothic mystery game in which you rely on your environment to uncover the truth.

A lovely little story, where you play madlibs and discover why an unnamed hero chose to sell their soul to the devil—and the thing it makes them into, the tragedy that finds them regardless. One of the shorter entries on this list, and less a game than wandering through an abandoned house to admire its poetry.

Also, I loved the Latin. More games should incorporate Latin.

SPOOKY LEVEL: 2/10

OVERALL GRADE: B

[charmwasjess]

So, let's say George Lucas was more self aware producing/directing the prequels and hired you to reign him in/keep him on track. How would the prequels be different?

What a fucking FUN question. :D I've been chewing over this in my inbox for a couple days.

Honestly you couldn't pay me enough to write for Star Wars, and that's not just because I'd be fired on my second day for making it so gay. I think there absolutely are problems in the prequels, but I also think no matter what films they made, it was going to be a difficult tango of trying to keep an existing fanbase happy while attracting new ones, doing the old story homage but also not just retreading stale territory, and the fact that an entire generation came up with headcanons for what the Clone Wars or young Obi-Wan or Vader was like in that era, and no matter what you do, someone was going to be disappointed.

I also have a ton of sympathy for Star Wars writers in general - I see stories like Mike Chen who wrote the Brotherhood novel having to get the book together in three months over 11 drafts or the Rebels writers working unpaid nights and weekends to try to land the story they loved decently because they weren't given enough time or money. I don't know what it's like to write or create content for Lucasfilm, but I can't help but think of Warren Fu, who created the iconic General Grievous design for Lucas, later drawing himself as Sifo-Dyas being drained of blood to create Grievous. The metaphor he chose there is, um, interesting, to say the least, and I wonder how it reflects on his time at Lucasfilm. I see these anecdotes all the time of writers and creators working incredibly hard for little money or recognition and then their passion project gets changed or sidelined by the powers that be within the franchise.

ANYWAY THAT SAID HERE'S HOW I'D FIX THE PREQUELS- I think it's really a matter of redrafting what's there because so much of it is really good and has great potential. I just rewatched the Phantom Menace, so that's on my mind. Yeah, I remember being little enough that Jar Jar Binks was funny to me - I love Ahmed Best - but having just rewatched it, Jar Jar gets a ton of screentime and that could be better balanced. AND oofa-doofa, the racist accents/stereotypes. Cut cut cut. Rework.

Otherwise, I think there's a tendency - and some of it was the popular movie tropes at the time the films were going out - to rely on Idiot Plot. OOPS, Anakin didn't mean to go to the big space battle!!! He just won the day on accident!! To a lesser degree, many other characters make it through the movie by just sort of guessing and lucking their way into it as a narrative choice. Just going by the fact that the films need to be about the good guys losing because it's a prequel for a saga with no Jedi, I'd like a little bit more agency for them. More moments of saying "yes, I want to do this" and less "wow, what the hell is going on?!"

The other big change I'd make is give Obi-Wan a much larger role in the Phantom Menace, and Padme a bigger part in both AotC and especially RotS. (Actually, she really kicks ass in TPM. That moment where she shoots through the window and the duel of the fates music swells? Ascension guns!! I'm getting goosebumps just thinking about it.) I think Anakin is the most sympathetic when he's seen through the eyes of characters who love him and vouch for him. And Obi-Wan is honestly barely in TPM - it's all Qui-Gon, who I love, but I could see the film being really successful through him as our perspective/focus character instead. The way that Luke Skywalker takes us with him on this adventure and shows us the story. Obi-Wan could do that very effectively. And as much as the prequels are about Anakin's fall, they're also ultimately a story of Obi-Wan's survival.

And I'd cut Count Dooku, for no reason other than I don't like how weird I got about that guy.

[laylawatermelon]

Please please read this and give it some love but I had an inkling of this feeling but never mentioned it cause I thought it was absurd.

Basically its a tweet of a reddit post (inception ik) basically of how Tim is basically rewriting the characters back to the way they were.

More below 👇🏾

Everyone's been mentioning how the characters have been more in character and the actors are happy and that makes sense.

He's been making them more in character than they ever were.

And with the Buddie situation (yes not everything is about them but i am a buddie fan who happened to find and grow to love this show because of it) it makes the most sense.

Now that Oliver mentioned the love story and everyone assumed it was the shooting and being in live it made the most sense.

Who else was he going to be falling in love woth at the time? It surely wasn't Taylor. Their romantic relationship was always doomed to fail and it was a great friendship they had (ehhh sideye for Bobby situation and Jonah eventually) that lasted if they weren't too persnally involved in each others lives.

She'd have been a perfect friend for him to gossip about the drama at the 118 (not work cause you know she'd make a story). That relationship wasn't going to work. He's too honest and she's too opportunisic.

If it hadn't been Jonah it'd be something else and he'd feel the same sense of betrayal (also Buck kissing Lucy was betrayal but that also felt a lil like assult cause she got him reallllly drunk and if the roles were reversed people wouldn't be that enthusiastic about it).

The only other love story that's been written logically as a will they won't they tragic and emotionally complex story is Buck and Eddie's.

Season 2 he replaced his love intrest! Like come on!

But in all seriousness, the Ana breakup and ll the vague dollow your heart is basically being rehashed.

I remember someone mentioning that Marisol is just another Ana (whoever you are if you see this send me hit I'll put it in here) and that's actually true.

Yay Marisol no last name haters your time has arrived cause it's official she's done!

There's no worry because we're getting a conclusion on the fact that was supposed to happen years ago.

She's not a permanent structure.

This storyline can go two ways.

One Buddie confirmed season 8.

Or two, Eddie realizes what his family could look like and its a single parent home with a support system from work (and Buck but we're gonna just gloss over that for now).

Meta linked above I just talked about Eddie and its coming to fruition (hire me abc im getting better at screenwriting!).

For the first one it's juicy storytelling.

For the other it makes sense as development for Eddie becoming comfortable with himself apart from his identity as a husband/widower, son, Catholic, and father.

He'll learn to bebhimself which he hadn't had the opportunity to do as he had fell into adulthood with his kid and then added on having a child with a disability that needs a lot of monetary support he ended up losing the chance to figure out who he is without all of that.

Even if it's not romantic (😔) it's great for him to realize he doesn't really need to be with anyone or fulfill a role he's not ready or willing to fill due to duty.

He can just be a father and work it iut that way.

Chris only wants his dad happy and I sense he knows his dad isn't happy at times or even worse he's not happy but is pretending so that his dad can be happy as he feels he has to give him that space/approval.

Chris is getting a storyline and he's always been observant so he'll most likely either explode in his feelings and tell his dad or tell him in a misunderstanding (he is getting to be a moody teen after all it's not going to be an adult reaction).

He's been close to death, heard his dad lose it and loat his mom. He's more mature than people give him credit for but the story hadn't included him much recently so we'll just have to see.

[rizlowwritessortof]

Centerfold

It’s 1973, and you are the assistant to the most famous photographer in the U.S., who just happens to be doing the photoshoot for Playgirl Magazine’s first-ever centerfold. Who better to start things off with a bang than America’s favorite superhero?

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Reader

Word Count: 2823

Warnings: None except the usual smut 😊

Fic header was made for me by the FANTASTIC @editsbymichele (Instagram) - thank you again, my friend, you ROCKED IT as always!!!💕

1973 was a wild year.

U.S. troops pulled out of Viet Nam. Secretariat won the Triple Crown. The Supreme Court ruled on Roe vs. Wade. The Watergate hearings began and Nixon swore ‘he was not a crook.’

And Soldier Boy became the first Playgirl centerfold.

The magazine launched in 1973, putting men on display in a way that had always been reserved for women. And what better way to kick things off than to get the country’s biggest supe to pose buck naked for every thirsty fan to see?

Your 1973 had been eventful so far, as well. A struggling professional photographer, you had applied to be assistant to the eccentric and extremely famous photographer Giada Ricci, never dreaming that you’d get the job. But she had been impressed by your work, hired you on the spot, and you had never worked harder in your life. You were grateful, absorbing everything you possibly could about her technique and tucking away any advice she gave to be used when you moved on to be on your own once again. Being known as a first assistant to someone like Giada could make a photographer’s career.

The first few weeks with her were a whirlwind. You helped move lights and props, made adjustments on models’ clothes and poses, loaded film… the list was endless. You got a phone call the morning of a shoot with the address you were to report to that day, and you simply hailed a taxi and showed up there, preferably early, to await your orders. When you arrived at the address on this particular day, however, you stopped dead in your tracks in front of the building. Playgirl Magazine. Well, fuck.

You walked inside, smoothing your hands over your plaid miniskirt, your white button-down shirt tucked in, your platform sandals clacking against the polished floor as you made your way to the reception desk. “Can you tell me where Giada Ricci’s photo shoot is happening? I’m her assistant.”

The receptionist smiled, giving you directions to the studio, then sighed. “I wish I had your job today! Imagine getting to see him naked, in person!”

You smiled back, not bothering to ask questions. You’d know soon enough. Today was going to be an interesting day.

“Ah, bella! Come, help me set up these props.” The older woman was rushing about, directing the male aides on loan from the magazine to move the heavier items into place. You have never been able to determine her age, but you’d guess she is near 70, although you’d never know it from her energy level. She was wearing her usual shapeless, flowing garb, made of some brightly-colored silky fabric, looking for all the world like a giant parrot, her hair dyed an absolutely hideous shade of red. You fell in beside her, following her instructions, helping decorate an obviously very patriotic scene for the shoot. Before you could ask who the subject was, his voice rang out, loud and clear, as he entered the room. “Giada!”

“Ben, darling!” she gushed, rushing towards him, enthusiastically kissing him on both cheeks. “You look positively wonderful!”

“So do you, gorgeous! Missed you at Herogasm this year, though.”

“Oh, you silly boy, I’m getting much too old!”

“Bullshit! Never too old.”

You listened, teeth clenched to keep your jaw from hitting the floor. It was him. Soldier Boy. In a silky gold kimono and sandals. And you were going to see him stark-ass naked. Oh. My. God.

He walked up to you next, a knowing smirk on his face. “Well, hello there. And who are you?”

You managed to stutter out your name, somehow. “I-I’m Giada’s assistant.”

His smile widened. “Well. I’m looking forward to seeing more of you today. And you’re gonna see a lot more of me.”

You managed to smile, even though your cheeks were probably glowing. “I guess so.”

The shoot began shortly after that, and you were too busy to think about anything but your job. You were running for this or that, or adjusting the draping of the fabric on the backdrop, or putting film into the camera, barely time to even glance at the delectable form of the man being photographed. Giada took shots of him standing, holding his shield; sitting with his legs sprawled in front of the American flag; and holding a huge gun braced against his hip, one foot propped up in front of him. You were definitely going to buy a copy of this magazine.

Finally, it was time for the centerfold shoot. The patriotic background still in place, she instructed him to lie down on his side, propped up on one elbow, the other arm draped over his hip and his back leg up, bent at the knee. She had him move a tiny bit here and there until she declared it “Perfect!” and you had to agree. The man was an Adonis, the most perfectly-formed man you had ever seen. And then… “Almost perfect - darling, go perk him up.”

You looked at your boss, your eyes wide. “What?”

“The nipples. They should be perky. We are going in close up, I want them to be all lovely and perky.”

“Perky?” You could hear your voice crack a little, and from the corner of your eye, you could see him smirk.

“Yes, perky. Go!”

You cleared your throat, walking a little hesitantly towards the reclining superhero, who was watching you approach with absolute mirth in his eyes. “Well, princess, perk me up.” You closed your eyes, then stared at his chest and reached out slowly, jumping when he spoke again. “I’m not gonna bite you. Unless you want me to. Later.”

Oh, he was enjoying this way too much. You took a deep breath and brushed your fingers over his nipple, trying with everything in you to ignore his soft moan, done solely for your benefit. You refused to look into his grinning face, continuing to the other nipple, trying to do as you were told with as little contact as you could manage. When you glanced up, he was staring intently down your shirt, his tongue peeking out between his teeth a little. “Good! Perfect!” Giada called out, and you took a relieved breath. “And now the penis.”

“The - the what??” Panic bubbled up in your chest, your heart pounding, and Soldier Boy’s deep, low chuckle sent goosebumps up your arms.

“His penis. It should be lying up on his thigh, not tucked behind. People want to see him in all his glory. Don’t tease it, I don’t want it hard, just in full view.

“Can’t he – um – adjust his own penis?”

“No. I don’t want him to move, he’s perfectly arranged. Except for the penis. Come now, bella, you’ve surely touched a penis before.”

“Yeah, princess – you have touched a penis before, right?” he teased, the tone of his voice sparking your temper.

You cleared your throat. “Yes. Of course,” you managed to say with a little glare at the thoroughly amused man. You leaned over, then hissed, “Stop it,” as he growled softly at the even better view down your shirt.

“Bet you’re a little perky right now, aren’t ya, kitten?”

This had to be the most humiliating thing you’d ever done in your life. And he was practically laughing at you. But Giada was waiting, and you had no choice. You reached down and grasped him lightly with one hand, telling yourself to stop thinking about perfectly shaped his cock was, and how large he was even without an erection, and how absolutely glorious he must be if he was hard… You forced yourself to focus on laying the impressive organ on top of his thigh, wondering what other task she could possibly come up with to add to your abject embarrassment. “Splendid! Well done, bella, now come back.”

You forced yourself to walk, not run, back to her side. She snapped shot after shot and you watched, acutely aware that his eyes were focused on you with an intense smolder that made you clench your thighs together. Giada finally finished, declaring the shoot a smashing success, and you barely heard her tell him she was finished and he could put on his robe.

Soldier Boy approached Giada and you immediately walked away, beginning to gather the props that belonged to her and avoiding the man completely. You’d never be able to look him in the eye, let alone speak to him. You busied yourself, refusing to even look his way, until Giada called out to you. “Come here, my darling, I need you.”

When you turned, he was gone, and you breathed a sigh of relief as you hurried towards her. “Yes, Giada?”

She put a hand on your arm with a smile. “You have made quite an impression on Ben. He would like you to join him in his dressing room. He said he’d like to get to know you better.”

“He – wants me to…”

“Completely your choice, bella. I would never demand such a thing from you. But you really would like to go, I think? You may never have a chance like this again, my girl. Consider your answer carefully.”

She was right. Of course, you’d just go and talk to him. Who wouldn’t want to spend a little time with America’s favorite hero? So you found yourself knocking on his dressing room door, and stepped inside when he called out, “Come in.”

He was still in his kimono when you walked in, sitting on a red velvet sofa with a glass of some kind of liquor in his hand, and he smiled when you entered, closing the door behind you. “Hello, princess. Glad you decided to accept my invitation.” He nodded towards the small table nearby that held another glass and a decanter. “Help yourself to a drink. It’ll calm your nerves.”

You smiled, nodding. “Good idea.” You poured yourself a drink, taking a swallow, then two. “So. What made you decide to pose for Playgirl?”

“They asked me. And they told me Giada was doing the shoot. She’s the best. Besides, Burt Fucking Reynolds posed nude for Cosmo last year – I can put that son of a bitch to shame. Couldn’t pass up the opportunity.”

You laughed softly, taking another drink, feeling the warmth begin to bloom in your belly. The rest of your body began to catch up when he spoke again, his voice low and tempting. “Come here, princess.”

You moved closer, standing in front of him, letting him take your hand in his. “Why don’t you slip off those shoes and come sit on my lap.”

Yeah. You’ll just talk to him. Well, fuck that.

You bent to slip off your shoes, his eyes glued to your cleavage. Then you straddled his lap, your knees tucked up close on either side of him, letting out a little squeak as he grabbed a handful of your ass with each hand and snugged you up tight against his hard on. His fingers went to work on your buttons, opening your shirt wide to his hungry gaze. He tugged the cups of your bra down, humming in approval as he filled his hands with your breasts. “You have got some beautiful tits, kitten. If I had more time today, I’d fuck ‘em. But my schedule’s kinda tight, and I’d rather be in that warm pussy.” He leaned you back a little, sucking a nipple into his mouth as he tugged and pinched at the other. When you were writhing on his lap, panting helplessly, your fingers gripping his hair, he bit down, making you gasp. He soothed it with his tongue, then latched onto the inside of your right breast, sucking a dark mark there. After leaving a matching bruise on the other side, he lifted his head, moving his fingers between your thighs, stroking them over your slit. “Bad girl, got your panties all wet. Better take them off.”

You stood again, your legs shaky, and did as he asked, his eyes never leaving you as he opened his robe. You had been right – his erection was glorious. “Well, hop on, princess. Let’s see if it’ll fit.”

You climbed over him again, up on your knees, your hands on his shoulders for balance as he ran his fingers through your slick and then shoved two thick fingers inside you. “Gonna be tight.” He pumped his fingers into you a few times, then pulled them out and put them in his mouth. “Mmmm, fuckin’ delicious.” You lifted yourself a little higher as he took his cock in hand and bumped the head against your clit a couple of times, smirking as you whimpered. The whimper soon became a moan as he notched into your opening and you began to lower yourself down, the stretch intense.

“Oh my god,” you whined, wondering if you’d be able to fully take him in, and he gave a low, dirty chuckle.

“You can call me Ben, doll. Come on, keep going. Take it all.” You worked yourself down slowly, until there were only a couple of inches left, but he was done being patient. You gasped as he grabbed your waist and shoved you down, burying himself inside you to the base. “Breathe, princess, don’t want you passing out on me.” He grinned. “At least, not yet.”

“Very funny,” you managed to force out, slowly beginning to relax, the sensation of him filling you completely making your every nerve sing. You shifted just a little, and he moved his hold to your hips, bucking up underneath you. You moaned, loud, and Ben laughed.

“Keep that up and everybody in this place is gonna know what we’re doing in here.”

“Everybody already knows what we’re doing in here, so I might as well enjoy myself.”

He laughed again, then thrust up hard, big hands and fingers pressing bruises into your hips as he began to hit a rhythm. “My kind of girl,” he grunted out, then focused on driving up inside you, forcing lewd moans from you, interspersed with the filthy words spilling from his mouth. “Squeeze that pretty cunt around me, princess, feels so fucking good.”

Fifteen minutes later, he was still going strong, he had wrung two orgasms out of you and you were on the edge of a third. “Ben… Please… I can’t…” you managed to rasp out, and he reached down between you, rubbing rough circles on your clit.

“Give me one more, and I’ll fill you up, doll.” You began to moan, one long, endless wail, and you wrapped your arms around his neck, holding on for dear life as he bounced you hard on his cock. You shouted his name as you began to shake again, clenching around him, and he let out a low roar as he  began to throb, his hot seed spurting inside you.

You clung to him, sweaty and spent, his hands stroking over your skin. “That was nice, princess. I should get moving, though. Much as I’d like to spend more time with you – so many more things I’d like to do to you. Maybe I’ll do another shoot for Giada sometime and we can – uh – continue where we left off.”

“Maybe.” You wince as he lifts you from his lap, pulling himself free, his come beginning to trickle  down your thighs. “Is there a bathroom in here?”

He smirked, his eyes on the mess he’d left, then gestured with his head. “Yeah, just past that wardrobe.” You gathered your clothes and headed that way, avoiding looking at him.

You cleaned up as best you could, dressing again and straightening your hair. When you came out, he was dressed except for his shirt, another drink in his hand. “So, I suppose I should go,” you said with a tentative smile. “I know you’ve got things to do.”

“A superhero’s work is never done. C’mere,” he said, downing his drink and setting the glass on the table before circling an arm around your waist and pulling you close. He kissed you for the first time, his lips claiming yours possessively, his hands roaming over you again. When he finally stopped to let you breathe, you looked up at him, eyes wide.

“I thought you had a schedule to keep.”

“Well, you know what? I guess they’ll just have to do whatever Vought bullshit they have to do without me today. I think you and I should spend a little more time together, at my place. Unless you have somewhere to go?” He was kneading at your breast, his thumb rubbing over your nipple through your clothes, and your legs were beginning to feel weak.

“Can’t really think of anything better than spending the day with Mr. June,” you answered breathlessly.

He smiled, a look in his eyes that sent heat flooding through your veins. “Knew you were my kind of girl.”

Tags for my lovelies (a couple of tags that weren’t working have been removed - if you need a tag, please send me an ask!):  @saenalife​    @deanscarlett​    @jensensgotyoudean​    @jinkieswouldyoulookatthis​    @deansdirtylittlesecretsblog​    @geeklibrarian​    @leatherwhiskeycoffeeplaid​     @star-spangled-man-with-a-plan​    @mrswhozeewhatsis​    @littlegreenplasticsoldier​    @sleep-silent-angel​    @darcia22​    @winchesterprincessbride​    @ellen-reincarnated1967​    @eyes-of-a-disney-princess​      @deanslittleangel2y5​    @melanie451​        @spectaculacular-sammy​     @bookchic20​    @jodyri​    @selma-jean-blog​           @savingapplepie-eatingthings​    @kittenofdoomage​    @masked-maiden42​    @lean-mean-deanwinchester​    @ericuhlorain​    @undecided-garden​    @ceeceewinchester​    @typicalweirdbookworm​          @callmesweetheartifyoumeanit​    @youtoldalie​    @tanithlowisabamf-blog​    @deandoesthingstome​    @jxackles​    @nerdwholikesword​    @soivebuiltupaworldofmagic​    @kreweofimp​  @gabavaldman​    @chaos-and-the-calm67-blog​    @darkx143​    @disassociativedogma​    @ioanashalala​    @jencharlan​    @deansthirstblog​     @dorky-and-i-know-it​    @mischief-maker1​    @winchestersandwordprocessors​    @percussiongirl2017​    @bringmesomepie56​   @akshi8278​     @torn-and-frayed​    @sandlee44​   @wingedcatninja​  @evansrogerskitten​   @emoryhemsworth​  @peaceinourtime82​  @dean-winchester-is-a-warrior​  @sarcasmqueen74​        @mrsjenniferwinchester​  

[itsclydebitches]

When Trent asks about writing the book and everyone is frantically getting Ted to say no literally behind Trent's back, do you think Trent knew what they were doing?

I do! On both a textual and a "realistic" level.

Meaning, if this were an irl scenario their reactions would be pretty hard to miss. Not only are Rebecca, Higgins, and Keeley saying 'No' with gestures grand enough to draw any eye, but Ted keeps shooting them very obvious "I'm uncomfortable with what they're doing over there" looks. As much as the Tedependent lizard part of my brain likes to read Trent's stare in this moment as heart eyes and heart eyes alone—why would he want to look at anything other than Ted??—I think, under the circumstances, it reads more like him deliberately staring to give Ted as much agency as he can in the moment. If Trent catches the others in their lies + insulting "Get him out of here" display, that puts him in the position of the victim, for lack of a better word. Ted then feels super guilty and he says "Yes" to Trent as a way to try and smooth things over. Trent doesn't want that. He wants to be here because Ted wants him here and though he can't control the others potentially influencing him, he can control his own reaction to the events: keep calm, open expression, non-judgmental, don't beg for it... just let Ted decide on his own.

However, to get back to the point about realistic scenarios, this is a comedy-drama where the characters often don't engage in realistic reactions. Emotions and responses are often deliberately exaggerated for the sake of comedic effect, so they definitely could have made Trent an Oblivious™ character who somehow misses the three people losing their minds right beside him and isn't that funny to watch? But I personally don't think Trent is that character. The show has never shied away from acknowledging what an ass he's been (see: his entire relationship with Roy) and Trent is more than aware of that reputation. He's cultivated it. There's really no version of these circumstances in which a very intelligent, emotionally aware Trent Crimm goes, "Hmm. I'm going to try and write a book about Richmond, the team made up of footballers who have avoided and cursed me out for years, a gaffer I threw to the proverbial wolves, and an owner who once hired me BECAUSE she knew I tear people to shreds in print. Besides, everyone loves having the press dog their steps for a season and then judge them in a permanent medium! Everyone's gonna be thrilled about this offer." Uh huh. Trent knows. He's not stupid. He's actually lucky that Rebecca went the polite route and passed the responsibility onto Ted Forgiveness Lasso. Ted's superhuman optimism was the very opening Trent needed.

Plus, I think Trent's knowledge of how he's really being received is shown throughout his first few weeks there. It's telling that Trent engages in a reversal of what's just been done to him, wherein he calls Rebecca out on why she really wants Zava: he can tell when she's lying and he knows when others in the room—this time Keeley, Higgins, and Ted—are trying to sway someone. Trent is already nervous when he walks into the changing room (you can see his fingers fluttering in his pocket) and he's a little shocked, but not surprised when Roy puts a ban on anyone speaking to him. We have that running joke of people going, "Don't put that in the book," the first instance of which is in Rebecca's office right after he's hired, yet again, there's no surprise along the lines of, "You're concerned about what I'm including? This is making you nervous, Rebecca? Why? I thought you wanted me here and the only thing keeping you from saying yes on the spot was respect for Ted and a belief that he should have the final call? 🤔" This girl was under NO delusions about how everyone was really receiving him. This is the face of a man who is very deliberately NOT looking behind him.

[invisibleraven]

11. Of course I know the way you like your coffee. Reggie/Carrie please.

"Okay, we've got the Today Show at eight, and the Cosmo photo shoot right before lunch. This afternoon we've got your live stream for your channel and this evening there's a benefit for Save The Children," reggie outlined as he and Carrie walked from the apartment to the town car.

"Ugh, sounds like an insanely long day," Carrie groaned. "I'm gonna need a triple shot-"

"Hazelnut latte with extra foam, caramel drizzle, and extra hot, I know," Reggie finished. When Carrie looked at him he snorted. "Carrie I've been your manager for over a year, of course I know the way you like your coffee."

"Yeah but it sounds so extra when I heard someone else say it," Carrie replied.

Reggie shrugged. "I've heard worse, and you like what you like. Now I've got everything sent to Kayla's phone so she can keep up with it while I go get you some java, but message me if you need anything before then."

"You're the best," Carrie stated, giving him an air kiss before getting in the car and driving off. Honestly she didn't know how she survived without Reggie-he kept her life and crazy schedule organized. Before him she had tried to go on her own for awhile after suffering through a handful of awful managers who didn't have her best interests in mind.

Maybe it was crazy to hire her best friend to manage her, but she knew he would always put her first, before any deal, sponsorship, and song. He would make sure she wasn't too overbooked or burned out to keep going.

Plus where Reggie had a music background, he could help her flush out songs, she could bounce ideas off of him, and he could throw ideas to her as well, enhancing her sound and making her even better.

She got through her day-thanks in part to the coffee Reggie got her, and the lunch he arranged for her and the crew. Honestly everything that he did for here-and the gratefulness washed over her.

And maybe a feeling that had always kind of been there-simmering beneath the surface that she never dared act on. Maybe it was time she changed that...

"Hey Care Bear, ready to go over tomorrow?" Reggie asked her as they hung out on her couch over take out Thai.

"Please tell me it's lighter than today was," Carrie groaned.

"Afraid not, but I can shift some stuff around to later the week if you need," Reggie offered.

"I think I need a Carrie and Reggie day where we can just veg out, enjoy something trashy, and not have to worry about appearances or obligations," Carrie confessed.

Reggie hummed, pulling up her schedule and typing a little bit. "Okay, how's Friday? The only thing I can't get you out of is the movie premiere for Kayla's new flick, but otherwise we can totes have a best friend day."

"Sounds perfect," Carrie sighed. "And you can come to the movie with me, it'll be way more fun with you."

"What about Nick?" Reggie asked, referring to the latest model she took to events-low pressure arm candy and nothing more.

"Think I'd rather have a real date," Carrie said, looking at him meaningfully.

"Oh... Oh!" Reggie said, then grinned. "I'll be sure to fit it into my schedule."

"See that you do," Carrie said before pulling him in for a kiss.

[radi0activesmile]

Thoughts under the cut!

1. I’ve loved Andrealphus since the moment they dropped a picture of him, so I’m psyched we got to see him finally. HOWEVER...

The fact that they dropped that image of him months before season 2 dropped, and Stella name-dropped him in episode 1 of season 2 making him out to be this big threat that Stolas did not want to anger... seems like they were building up a lot for a guy who was just sorta... there. 

2. I think if this episode had been longer (it’s like seven minutes shorter than Exes and Oohs) that would have helped a lot. If scenes had like 30-40 more seconds in them, I think it would have flowed a little better. Like. Andrealphus was clearly trying to accomplish something by playing up Stolas cheating on Stella, but Striker came in before we could do it. Maybe we could have seen how easily he can get under Stolas’ skin, or maybe he could have said something to help us understand why Stella uses him as a threat. 

3. I like the idea of Millie and Moxxie going to take someone down without Blitz, but I wish it was someone other than Striker. Not that they didn’t have personal beefs with him, but when we last saw Striker, we kind of got the idea that he had almost convinced Blitz to join him, and I think that emotional scene at the end would have been waaaaay more effective if Blitz had been there to save Stolas, and Striker had offered that same deal, and Stolas could get to see Blitzo falter again. 

4. I think this episode suffers the same way Seeing Stars suffered in that, I get why they wanted Blitz to be away from the main plot, but I think the way they got him away... needed some work. Maybe if they’d been on a mission and Loona had been really hurt, and that’s why he needed to take her to a hospital? I know Helluva’s a dark comedy but the tone shifting so drastically from ‘haha dog getting shots’ to ‘man is getting tortured to death’ was a biiiit... extreme? 

5. I do like us getting to see how other hellborns treat imps... and seeing Blitz nearly lose it when someone mispronounces his name is a nice callback. 

6. Shoutout to the boyband imp. I love him. 

7. With how rushed things already felt, I don’t... really understand the scene where Millie and Moxxie stop at the gas station. Seemed like that time could have been better spent developing one of the other scenes. 

8. I’m all for Stella being a jaded girl boss who wants her husband to suffer for cheating on her (which he did, no matter how he tries to justify it, and no matter how loveless the marriage was, he did cheat on her) buuuut why was she okay with Striker shooting him last time? This seems like something she would want done quickly-- and quietly. She’s a noble with an image to think of, right? 

8.5 Then again, they’re clearly trying to paint her as someone who isn’t thinking this through (even though she clearly did think it through the first time she hired Striker? When she waited until he was an entire ring away from his castle and his guards? And could easily pin it on someone else? Rather than getting him abducted in public and not even pretending to be surprised?)

9. Really hope we get some Striker backstory, ‘cause the man’s clearly got some issues with nobles/overlords and I’m dying to find out who hurt him so badly. 

10. There’s so many scenes I wish were longer, but the Loona getting a shot scene could have been cut by a loooot. 

11. Did... did the person who wrote the scene between Andrealphus and Stella forget they’re siblings? Did they think Andre’s her sassy best friend? Because he does strike me as the type of guy who talks like this... but not to his sister. 

12. I like that they’re seemingly painting Andrealphus as this deep thinker who’s out here playing the long-game, but I don’t like that they had to make Stella so oblivious to the obvious to show that. Don’t tell me this woman, who has been plotting this for months (probably over a year) was so blinded by wanting Stolas dead that she didn’t consider anything else. She was raised a noble. Her marriage was arranged in childhood. Don’t tell me she isn’t very aware of what would happen to her status if he died. Don’t tell me she didn’t think of a way around that waaaay before she found an assassin. Why is she a whiny child all of a sudden?

13. STOP. CALLING. YOUR SISTER. THINGS. LIKE. THAT.

14. Edward Basco does an amazing job as Striker and I love the level of so done with these blue blooded dumbasses he brought during that phone call. 

15. That fight scene is absolutely gorgeous. 

16. I’m so confused about how Blitz got Loona into the car and into the doctor’s office only for her to suddenly put up a fight? I get her being freaked out but knowing it’s something she has to do to keep herself alive, and I could see her fighting Blitz the entire way there. The sudden flip just seemed... again, tonal shift. 

17. Love Doctor goat’s design though. 

18. Music is a bop!

19. So M&M get no credit for absolutely saving Stolas’ ass huh?

20. Stolas’ doctors being legit Plague Doctor demons is fantastic and I have no complaints. 

21. He can get hurt?

All jokes and gripes aside I really do like that line. Blitz clearly has a fear of people leaving him either by choice or by being taken away by death, and I bet thinking Stolas was this immortal being that, while annoying, he was likely comforted by the idea that Stolas physically can’t be taken from him. Then suddenly that security is jerked away from him. No matter what other feelings I have about this episode, that was really well done. 

22. Glad we’re finally getting some clarification on what’s been up with these two since Ozzie’s. It looks like Stolas is trying to give Blitz space and prove their relationship is not just you wanting me to fuck you and Blitz is being dismissive and guarded. They’re acting like nothing happened when they’re in front of others but it seems we’ll eventually get them talking about what happened that night. 

23. Why do you insist on hurting me with these character breaks after looking at phone endings, Viv?

All in all, I didn’t hate the episode. It absolutely wasn’t one of my favorites, and I don’t think it was a good follow up at all to Exes and Oohs, but it wasn’t terrible. I’ll admit my hopes and expectations were high AF because I’ve been dying to see Andrealphus and also dying for Striker to come back. 

So far, in season two, I’ve:

Really enjoyed episode 1

Had... thoughts about episode 2.

Loved episode 3.

Thought episode 4 was meh. 

Soooo, if the pattern keeps up, episode 5 should be great!

[lancelotscloak]

Chronicles of You - Ikemen Revolution Lancelot Kingsley’s playlist 🌹

Note: After 1.5 years of making countless changes to the playlist, I think I’m confident enough to post it now. It was meant to go public on his birthday this year, but better late than never, amirite? Lol

A character study is what I wish to convey in this playlist, diving deep into the nuances of his personality and traits that made Lancelot who he was. It captures his internal struggles to do what is right without putting lives in danger. It provides a genuine insight into his mind: how he thinks of the Magic Tower, and how he made himself believe that he had lost his humanity and turned into some kind of a “villain”. It shows how confused he was with his emotions when Alice slowly worms her way into his heart, and how he tried to push her away to protect her. The last six songs focused on how he is like in both endings, event stories, etc. when he’s learning to be “alive” again.

I highly recommend you listen to the playlist in order while digesting the lyrics of each song. I have provided a YouTube link for non-Spotify users.

TRACKLIST:

Man or a Monster by Sam Tinnesz (feat. Zayde Wølf)

When you close your eyes, what do you see?

Do you hold the light or is darkness underneath?

In your hands, there's a touch that can heal

But in those same hands, is the power to kill

Animal I Have Become by Three Days Grace

But there's still rage inside

Somebody get me through this nightmare

I can't control myself

So what if you can see the darkest side of me?

No one would ever change this animal I have become

Blood // Water by Grandson*

We'll never get free

Lamb to the slaughter

What you gon' do when there's blood in the water?

The price of your greed, your son and your daughter

What you gon' do when there's blood in the water?

*for the Magic Tower

Stomp Me Out by Bryce Fox

You can't stomp me out

You know you can't even slow me down

You know I spread this wild around

So if you're sure, you better shoot me now

[...]

If you find a change of heart

I might forgive you (I might forgive you)

But if you keep running that mouth

It just might kill you (Just might kill you)

Seven Devils by Florence + The Machine

Holy water cannot help you now

See, I've come to burn your kingdom down

And no rivers and no lakes can put the fire out

I'm gonna raise the stakes

I'm gonna smoke you out

Autoclave by The Mountain Goats

I am this great, unstable mass of blood and foam

And no one in her right mind would make my home her home

My heart's an autoclave

[...]

When I try to open up to you, I get completely lost

Houses swallowed by the earth, windows thick with frost

And I reach deep down within, but the pathways twist and turn

And there's no light anywhere, and nothing left to burn

Moondust by Jaymes Young

Nothing can breathe, in the space

Colder than, the darkest sea

I have dreams about the days

Driving through your sunset breeze

But the first thing that I will do

Is bury my love for you

Goodbye My Love by Fox Academy

Goodbye my love

I wish things were different

Don't spend your time

With someone that doesn't deserve it

The Dark Side by Muse

I have lived in darkness

For all my life, I've been pursued

You'd be afraid if you could feel my pain

And if you could see the things I am able to see

[...]

I hail from the dark side

For all my life, I've been besieged

You'd be scared living with my despair

And if you could feel the things, I am able to feel

Fallen Angel by Zaradiah

They don't like when you go against their way

Learn your strength and watch as you become the prey

Born from pain, fueled by fear, you see it clear as day

It's a game of cat and mouse I refuse to play

Break the chains

I changed my fate

Accept the stains

That I left behind

My Life For Hire by A Day to Remember

Somebody give me a sign that everything's going as planned

And then everything falls away into the darkness of this shallow place

The detail is striking, the room's cold and frightening

You'll kick and you'll scream, you'll try everything to survive

But you should know your fate by now

[...]

But I swear I'll be the one

To let the world know what you've done to me

Headstrong by Trapt

Now I see the truth, I got a doubt

A different motive in your eyes and now I'm out

[...]

I see your fantasy

You wanna make it a reality paved in gold

See inside, inside of our heads, yeah

Well, now that's over

Let It Breathe by Water Liars

There's a room inside my heart that no one ever goes

It's been boarded up and locked for years and everything is gone

Then you come along and cut yourself a key

Swept the floors and opened a window, said ‘baby let it breathe’

Golden by Harry Styles

Golden, golden, golden

As I open my eyes

Hold it, focus, hoping

Take me back to the light

I know you were way too bright for me

[...]

I can feel it take a hold (I can feel it take a hold)

I can feel you take control (I can feel you take control)

Of who I am and all I've ever known

Loving you's the antidote

Indigo Puff by Sundara Karma

I feel the light surrounding me

I'm open now and feeling free

[...]

I see the sound land on my skin

A passion moves me from within

[...]

You're the one, you're the one, you're the one

In my heart, in my bones and in my soul

You're the one who keeps me on my own

[maxverstepponme]

Was kinda just thinking / playing around with the fact that this blog goes so in depth about how awful of a person, mom, and “girlfriend” Kelly Piquet is I’m really surprised no one here has made its way to a blind item / a bigger gossip forum because YALL ARE DOING THE LORDS WORK ON FINDING THE STEAMIEST ☕️☕️☕️

but then i seriously think about it and Max is a C(+) list celebrity with the raising interest in F1, while Kelly is Miles and miles behind him. Which is very funny because considering how she talks to photographers and other ppl who’ve had interactions with her she definitely thinks she’s up there with max. Modeling is a super hard industry to get into and many many ppl get hired for agency & contractors but not all of them are ppl like Kendall Jenner, the Hadid sisters ect. Her biggest shoot was the Dutch Vogue which from my understanding did not reach the performance it was intended because the contents only really focused on her being a trophy gf and very obviously didn’t point out anything she’s actually done in terms of motherhood, trying to make a name in the modeling world while trying to set herself apart ect, it was about max this and max that and my dads a world champion. She can attend all the fancy Fashion Weeks she wants but just showing up doesn’t actually do anything.

It’s very hard to be come relevant when you don’t have any substance and leeching off a boyfriend is probably the worst way to be come relevant. I 100% believe she tried to baby trap Daniil K and will probably do it to Max. When she had P she had a wonderful working mom in the paddock vibe (bc at time if I’m not mistaken she was in charge of running some f3/ lower junior series’ instagrams / socials) but got rid of it after they split and TRIED to be back into mommy blogging with Max but she cares way to much about furthering her modeling career and using her kid as an accessory to keep up with the stay at home stichk.

There’s soooo many ways Kelly could market herself but relies heavily on F1 fans from max to further her career which in all reality, as someone who just got in the sport a year 1/2 ago and is a female, I’ve had other female friends in the sport WAYYY longer than me and no one really cares about the girlfriends and wife’s. It’s fun too see them in the paddock yes but Most f1 fans are watching for the sport and to cheer on their favorite driver than to be investing in a struggling modeling career.

I also think it’s very psycho to try and alter the reality of a relationship to the point Kelly does. Maybe it’s just me being the type of person who doesn’t feel the need to flaunt / post a relationship (me and my partner have been together 3 yrs and I personally don’t see the point of posting about the relationship/ giving up dates 24/7 because I believe that those moments are better spent between the two of us and not the entire internet). When it gets to the point of faking posting about something as simple as flowers or posting old photos to make it seem like she’s in his apartment/ with him when the detectives on here clearly point out she’s ran off somewhere else is very concerning. She’s 30+ and displays the same type of relationship insecurity as a 16 yr old. Normal people shouldn’t feel the need to constantly verify their relationship with complete strangers online. Its also not that hard to respect the privacy of your S/O but not showing key features of their house, because the fact fans have seen photos of Monaco and now are able to point out max’s apartment is very concerning but it wouldn’t have started If miss K hadn’t obsessively showed off the place.

I definitely don’t think Kelly is stupid, and I know that she knows that once her and max break up a lot of the opportunities she had like meeting maya musk ect will be gone. ANYWAYS BACK TO THE OG POINT I think some of the work ppl do on this blog about the Kelly time lines should definitely try submitting something to a blind items blog because IG seems to be her main platform of outreach and it would be interesting to see how she would respond. This blog holds valid criticism of her /(with other wags but K seems to be the most problematic) and accurate descriptions and timelines of her sketchiness. Keep doing the lords work ladies and gents 💛💛

Skilled nonnies

[mystery-star]

Whumptober 2023 - Day 7 | Alleyway

Characters: Jackson Healy, Holland March

Words: 954

 Warnings: violence

A/N: Day seven for Whumptober, today’s prompt: Alleyway

-

Healy was by no means a coward or even scared. After all, observing people was almost a daily chore in his ‘new’ job. But he definitely preferred if they took place during daytime and not in what seemed to be the darkest alley in LA, was all. And especially not when he had been watching that damned street for hours already when nothing was happening. At the same time, his partner was out interviewing some people of interest. He stifled a yawn and stretched a little before reaching out to his drink he had placed beside him. As if on cue, he caught a movement in the corner of his eye and while his hand went for the gun at his hip his head shot around too. But he could see nothing in the darkness. Not taking his eyes away, he drank a few sips, putting the bottle away and wiping his face. If only he knew where March was again so he could take over like they had agreed. It would seem his partner had once again forgotten. Or simply didn’t want to and then claim he’d forgotten if Healy mentioned it. Again something caught his attention but this time it was a sound. A gunshot that came from the direction he thought to have seen the movement just before. Should he check it out? After all he didn’t know if it was what he was looking for. On the other hand, he was on the lookout for anything unusual and suspicious. So he took out his gun, opened the car door as quietly as he could and stepped out. Leaving the door open, he slowly moved towards the place the action he wanted to investigate took place, making sure to use his vehicle as cover.

“Someone’s here!” a deep voice shouted and he suppressed a curse. So much for using cover. Although only a moment later bullets were flying and he did crouch down, happy that the car saved his life but also annoyed that he would need to have it repaired yet again or get another one. He tried to find out how many people there were but all the knew was that there probably were more than two shooting and God knew how many more there were. Then, to his surprise and relief the shots stopped and he heard hushed voices. For good measure, he stayed down another couple of seconds before he dared a little glance over the back of the car and deciding he wanted to check it out further. He hadn’t even made it around the back of the vehicle when three men stood there, pointing guns at him.

“Drop it!” one said with a nod towards his own pistol and he complied. Almost in that moment, a fist collided with his jaw. But it took way more to take him down and so two of the men started beating in on him, while the third one still held him at gunpoint until Healy went to his knees “What are you doing here? And who are you?”

“Must have lost my way and then fell asleep in the car” the hit told him that they didn’t believe him.

“What are you doing here? You a cop?”

“A cop? Me? Never” one of the men seemed fed up and started rummaging his jacket until they found his wallet which also contained is ID and PI license. He showed it to his friends. Of course they did not like it and could literally feel their wrath.

“Who sent you?”

“My partner” he replied with a slight grin. This time, when the blow came, he grabbed the guy’s wrist and twisted it until it broke. He only let go when he heard another shot and pain spread through his arm. It would seem they still needed him (at least his answers) or else they might have just killed him.

“Who hired you?”

“Now that is confidential…” the gun was pressed against his temple. He better get an idea how to get away or this would be his end. Maybe if he played for time or made them think they needed him alive for longer he’d have a chance to flee. Or perhaps even March would come look for him or to finally show up and relieve him. “Alright so we didn’t ever get his name. Just called himself R. I never met him but my partner did. Came to him three days ago”

“Why?”

“Well to hire us”

“Why did he hire you?” he gave him a glance

“Does it matter? He pays, we deliver. At least that’s what my partner thinks”

“Your partner?”

“Yeah. He’s a couple of blocks away, observing there” when the one with the gun sent the others away Healy had to hide his smirk.

“That all you know?”

“At least concerning this case. Sorry, nothing more for you to beat out of me”

“That’s alright” before he had even finished speaking, Healy shot up, tackling the man to the ground and hitting him a few times for good measure. As if on cue, he heard police sirens and also March’s car was coming into view a short while later. He jumped out of the car almost before the police could even stop and hurried over

“Took you long enough” Healy said with a rise of his eyebrow, getting up to retrieve his own gun

“Figured you had it under control and seems you did. Or more or less. Except for some wounds that can heal. But you managed and survived and that counts. We all should have a drink on this newest successful case” Healy could only shake his head over his partner, as usual.

[girlwithshipsshitshow]

COLIVER SEASON TWO THOUGHTS!!

2x1

Connor moving in to show Ollie how serious he is is so cute lol. He doesn’t even want to hear Ollie’s protests. 🩷🤣.

C: “right now you’re the only part of my day I look forward to” 🥺🥺

C&O kissing *connors phone rings* O: don’t answer it

C: it’s my Annalise ringtone.

O: OH GOD ANSWER IT.

Also Connor calling Oliver Ollie is my favorite thing ever!

2x2

Michaela and Connors friendship is definitely one of my favorites on the show.

Oliver stop putting yourself down, you’re handsome too. Yeah Connor is beautiful, but so are you babe.

The way Connor blames himself for Oliver getting AIDs. .

2x3

C: only 1 day till D day and D stands For-

O: I know what D stands for

C: I was good ollie

O: you’ve changed

C: yeah, cause of you 👉🏼👈🏼🥺

2x5

C:Just know that meeting you, and everything we have, It’s everything. You mean everything. I love you Ollie.

Connor talking about his feelings for Oliver because he’s scared is so Like we already know how he feels about him, but he’s also someone who doesn’t trust a lot. But he is very vulnerable with his feelings when it comes to Ollie.

Everytime they call each other boyfriends. 🥺💕

2x6

C: less nerd more information. 😅

Oliver is a good hacker and he loves to be involved, especially if it means spending more time with Connor, but all Connor wants to do is protect Oliver because he cant have him go down for anything, he feels guilty enough for everyone, and having Oliver go down or get hurt doesn’t help.

2x7

Connor getting mad that frank got Ollie involved in the case is adorable. He’s so protective of him. 🥺 like he already has him involved enough, he doesn’t want him anymore involved. He feels bad that he got him Involved this far in.

C: you didn’t text me

O: I knew you’d say no

C: I don’t want you more involved then you already are, you’re putting yourself in danger.

O: so are you. Everything you guys do here is way more fun than my job.

C: 😒

Connor panicking for Oliver. Then showing up to protecting him instead.Then that guy follows him home. 😬.

2x8

Ollie 😭😭

Connor having a panic attack when he thought Oliver was missing. And then threatening to hurt everyone if something happens to him. Thank god he was okay.

Oliver taking the straw Philip was drinking! 🙌🏼🙌🏼. Nice one Oliver.

C: do it

O: I still have some stuff I need to save.

C: this is serious. *smashes computer* I feel better, don’t you?

O: 🫣🫣

C: since you need the thrill, welcome to criminal law 101. I’m going to teach you a lesson.

They kiss.

They’re dorks.

Having sex in the classroom is thrill.

O: what was that?

C: I don’t know, probably the janitor.

O: we’ll let’s give him a show.

*they laugh*

They’re my dorks.

2x9

Annalise wanting Connor to shoot her and threatening him to do it by telling him she’ll put Oliver in jail if he doesn’t. What an angle man.

2x11

Look, they love ash, and Connor is going through the same stuff but coliver needs time together too. Asher needs to talk to someone, he’ll so does Connor. They all need therapy at this point.

They shouldn’t have been talking about Asher like that, but Asher should give them a break. It’s their house.

C: the whole reason I got through any of this was Oliver.

2x12

Them talking about their future. 🩷

2x14

C: I have a resting bitch face, that’s probably what you’re reading as “distraught”

My bitchy baby! 💕💕

O: I quit my job! Do you think Annalise would hire me?

C: no Ollie, you don’t wanna work for her. I won’t let you.

O: because whatever you say goes?

C: *because whatever she says goes, you’ll find out everything. And at some point you’ll do down like the rest of us*

2x15

Ollie, I know you didn’t wanna move, but definitely getting Red of his acceptance email was a dumb move. You should have a conversation like adults. Also Conor, using sex to decide, also not a good idea. 😒😒. Dumbasses.