#fun fact i straight up skipped anything that was from the movie

[navree]

how to take part: go to pinterest, search "[your name] core aesthetic" and create a moodboard from the first nine images!

coziness, countryside, couture, all with a dash of frenchness — the amélie moodboard

tagged by my dearest @snckt and tagging whoever wants to!!!! if you see it you're tagged go do it <3

[les4elliewilliams]

Syrup.

making pancakes with Ellie ( ꩜ ᯅ ꩜;) 

cw/wc: 3.5k ! loser!ellie, dry humping, fingering + oral (e!receiving), kind of sub!ellie? oilin' her up 'cause pretty girls deserve special treatment. [not really mentioned because I rushed it towards the end.]

!!mdni!!

daily click・palestine masterpost・neil druckmann is a zionist・more daily clicks.

Skipping classes with Ellie usually meant sleeping in and cuddling the whole morning, basking in the soft glow of your favorite movie or TV show. But not when she was ovulating and going feral over you. Ellie was perfect, such a fucking good girlfriend, never pressuring you into anything you didn’t feel like doing—but there were times when all you needed to do was hide from her. Especially when she was ovulating, it was as if she were reliving the raging hormones of puberty all over again.

What kind of girlfriend would you be if you didn’t help your girl when she most needed you? Letting her ride your fingers whenever she needed, her moans filling the room as you praised her sweetly, or letting her sit on your face for an hour straight until her body couldn’t take it anymore and you could barely breathe. You didn’t mind; in fact, you loved it.

She tasted so fucking good, and knowing she had gotten all wet over something as simple as a few words you’d said or some dumb shit she found utterly irresistible—even when you thought it was stupid—only made it better.

That particular morning, she woke up much earlier than you, her body already humming with need. The poor loser tried to wake you up for cuddles before classes, something you usually did daily before parting ways, but you didn’t budge. Her soft whispers and gentle shakes eventually turned into hungry kisses and wandering hands. Her breath was hot against your ear as she murmured how much she needed you, her fingers tracing the curve of your jawline. 

But you still shooed her away, “Five more minutes,” you mumbled, but five minutes turned into an hour and then two. You were so sleep-deprived, burning the midnight oil on your schoolwork, that you wouldn’t even hear your alarm in the morning if it weren’t for Ellie. Patiently, she took time out of her morning to shake you like a cocktail until you finally woke up.

You could hear her sigh and huff, shifting around uncomfortably, perhaps bored. “So, you don’t want cuddles before class?” she asked, her voice tinged with disappointment. But you ignored her, too exhausted to respond. “Fine, whatever,” she muttered, slipping into a slightly pissy mood because you pushed her away every time she wrapped her arms around you and planted soft kisses on your neck to rouse or wake you.

“Ellie,” you grumbled, still half-asleep, “Let me sleep.”

“Wake upppp,” she drawled into the crook of your neck, her warm breath caressing your soft skin. “I wanna cuddle,” she repeated, pouting, though you couldn’t see it because your eyes remained stubbornly closed. Her desperation and neediness grew as she clung to you.

“Nooo—’s too hot for that,” you whined, scooting away from your girlfriend once again.

When you finally woke up on your own and suggested skipping classes together, she was more than excited at the idea. Of course, she didn’t complain. Why would she when she’d get to spend the whole morning with you?

Let’s say she had different intentions from yours. While you just wanted to sleep in and spend the whole day in your cozy apartment to relax, she stayed home with you hoping for morning sex—but she didn’t get it.

“Skip classes? Fuck yeah, I’m in,” she exclaimed excitedly, her arm hooking around your waist to drag you closer to her. “There are maaany more fun things we could do instead...” Her voice shifted from excited to teasingly sultry, her lips ghosting over the shell of your ear.

“Hmm... like what?” you mumbled sleepily, rubbing the sleep from your eyes.

“Well, I could give you a massage,” she whispered, planting soft kisses into the crook of your neck, making their way up to your jawline. “Or we could make pancakes.”

She was a little disappointed when you picked pancakes over a massage, but you were so hungry that you didn’t even notice. You padded to the kitchen with her walking closely behind, her green eyes glued to your ass as she let out a sigh. 

She was starving. 

Ellie was usually never that blunt when it came to these kinds of things. You’d usually pick up on her body language, or she’d let you know subtly, always careful not to make you feel pressured. She was a gentlewoman, after all.

“Get the flour and the eggs. I’ll get the rest.” You instructed her quickly, bringing her back to reality and pulling her out of her thoughts. She quietly complied, gathering all the necessary ingredients and placing them on the white countertop in front of her. Meanwhile, you grabbed a bowl from one of the nearby cabinets.

“Okay,” You scooped up a handful of the fine white powder, your fingers brushing against the cool, smooth surface as you measured the exact amount needed. The powdery substance was light and fluffy, and its scent was faintly sweet as you poured it into the bowl. “Dry ingredients first,” you said out loud, mostly speaking to yourself. 

You’ve always been terrible in the kitchen, managing to burn everything you touched or getting the ingredients completely wrong. Thankfully, Ellie had been there to help you improve over the years, guiding you through the basics and teaching you little tricks to make your cooking less disastrous. 

“Mhm,” she hummed back almost proudly. You could feel her presence lingering behind you, her breath warm against your neck. Her hands rested on your hips, fingers tracing small, lazy circles. The intimacy of the moment was palpable, each touch sending a shiver down your spine. You could sense her frustration; her body pressed a little closer, making her need evident in every movement. 

You started by pouring the powders into the bowl, but as you did, she began to tease you, planting soft, innocent kisses on all your sweet spots, making your breath hitch each time her lips met your skin. 

“And then we add the wet ones…” 

“Yeah, I know, I remember,” you said casually, trying to focus on mixing the different powders in the bowl. But Ellie’s attentions made concentrating difficult, her teasing kisses and soft touches getting the desired effect; she knew what she was doing.

“Can’t wait to taste your syrup on my tongue.” Her whispered words made your breath catch in your throat, and your stirring motions slowed in response. Her mouth was right by your ear, her breath warm and teasing against your flesh. 

“Ellie.” With a frustrated huff, you scolded her, your wispy brows furrowing together as you tried to appear stern. You could feel her lips twitching in satisfaction at your reaction against your epidermis.

“What?” she asked, her voice full of false innocence. She pulled away from your neck, resting her chin on your shoulder as she watched you work on the pancake mix. “I meant the syrup that comes with pancakes.” Her voice shifted back to its usual playful tone as she spoke, her words casual and light-hearted. Her hands rested gently on your hips as she leaned against you from behind.

“Yeah, obviously.” You responded sarcastically, rolling your eyes at her comment. But you couldn’t help but suppress a small smirk that threatened to form on your face, grateful she couldn’t see your expression.

“We’ve gotta mix the dry and wet together, and then we’ve got the perfect…consistency,” The last word was an alluring melody whispered directly into your ear, her soft lips brushing against your neck ever so gently. One of her arms moved from your waist, her fingers trailing softly along your arm until they wrapped around the handle of the whisk in your hand, bringing your motion to a halt.

More kisses were pressed to the side of your neck, making you tilt your head to give her better access. Her tattooed arm was still wrapped around your waist, holding you close and rocking you slightly from side to side.

“Hmm—you’re distracting me.” You couldn’t help but sigh softly, surrendering to her damp smooches and touches. Despite your best efforts to maintain your composure, you felt your body melt like butter against hers, your muscles relaxing in response to her gentle ministrations.

“Still want to make pancakes instead of getting that massage? ’m good with my hands, y’know.” Her husky voice was like silk in your ear, rich and smooth. Every word that left her lips was soothing and comforting, her tone gentle and seductive, making your heart skip a beat. “You might need my touch more than you think…” Her hips ground gently against the plushness of your ass, a subtle motion that made your clit twitch. 

You could feel the heat of her body pressing against you from behind as she continued to kiss and nibble on your neck. The sensation was soothing and arousing, making you lean into her embrace, your eyes closing blissfully as you surrendered to her attention. Lost in her kisses and nibbles on your neck, you suddenly remembered the pancakes you were mixing,

The whisk still clutched in your hand. With a reluctant huff, you shook yourself back to reality, forcing yourself out of the trance she had put you in.

“You’re such a fucking horndog.” you jokingly chided her, swatting at her hand as it crept toward your chest, but truth be told, you loved the attention. It was comforting knowing how much she wanted you, how much she needed you.

“Like you’re any better,” She let out an exaggerated scoff, her hand returned to your waist, joining the other one. 

You added eggs and milk, intently stirring and mixing the pancake batter, when you suddenly felt her grind against you again. The sensation sent a thrill through you, and almost instinctively, you pushed your ass slightly into her, making her breath hitch.

“Fuck,” she muttered under her breath, her hands gripping your hips as she guided your ass against her crotch.

“We’re supposed to be making pancakes,” you mumbled incoherently, letting her use your body to get off.

Ellie’s hands roamed your body with a growing urgency, her touch both gentle and demanding. She pressed herself closer, her breath hot against the back of your neck, the mixing bowl almost forgotten in your hands.

“But you feel so good,” she whispered, her voice low and husky, sending waves of desire coursing through your very core. Her lips brushed against your ear, planting soft kisses along your jawline, her fingers tracing the curve of your waist. “And I’m hungry for something else,” she purred, her cold hands slipping under your shirt, her touch making your nipples harden almost immediately. She moved against you, her hips creating a rhythm that left you yearning for more.

Despite your best efforts to focus on the bowl in your hands, you found yourself pressing into her embrace, “Ellie,” you uttered, barely recognizing your own voice, “we should really  finish making breakfast.”

She scoffed, her voice tinged with a playful defensiveness. “You’re the one pushing your butt into me like a cat in heat!” Her breath was already starting to come in labored gasps. Her cheeks were a beautiful sight, flushed with a delicate rosy pink hue that complemented her complexion, although hidden from your view.

“That’s because you sound pretty,” you argued with a pout on your face, making her whimper at your words. She was so sensitive it was ridiculous; she could feel herself getting wetter with each passing moment, the dampness in her boxers becoming impossible to ignore. Your ass pushed into her again, intensifying her need.

“And I’m the distracting one?” she quipped, her breath catching. “God, you’re just as distracting.” She added, her head dropping onto your shoulder as she continued to roll her hips against you, her hands squeezing your boobs from underneath her your shirt.

You snorted at her words and at the whole situation, finding it amusing. “What’s gotten into you today? You woke up horny or something?” you taunted her, your voice dripping with sarcasm, though the answer was obvious.

“You’ve got me all riled up,” she mumbled softly, a groan slipping past her plump lips. Her rough hands pushed your ass further into her as she began to suck purple marks on your neck, her eyes closing as her movements became more desperate and rushed.

“You’re a fucking loser, El,” you teased her, yet still letting her do as she pleased with your body. 

Her whimpers turned into soft mewls as she ground against you, the friction sending jolts through her and making your pussy ache agonizingly. Her breath felt like the sea breeze against your skin; her soft lips left a trail of moist, open-mouthed kisses along your neck. She was losing herself in the moment, her body responding to every push and pull, every tease and taunt. Ellie’s hands roamed all over your body, her fingers digging into your flesh as if she couldn’t get enough of you.

“Need you right here, baby.” She uttered as she guided your hips, her breath hot and ragged as she pressed her forehead against your shoulder. The fabric of her boxers clung to her wet folds, every movement making the dampness more pronounced. It was as if her walls were pulsing your name in Morse code, each beat a desperate plea for you, for your fingers. “God… feels so good.” her voice barely a whisper.

“Does it?” Her hands gripped your hips, guiding you with a desperate urgency that made your pulse race and your head spin. The smooth and unyielding countertop offered a reassuring stability for the both of you as you leaned into it, your fingers splayed wide, seeking purchase on the slick surface. Her movements were frantic. The dampness of her boxers pressed against your unfortunately still-clothed ass, and you could feel your own slickness seeping through. 

“Yeah… so… so good,” she breathed out, humping against the fat of your butt as she held you tightly in place, afraid that you might vanish at any moment. “My brain stops working around you.” You could feel her body tensing against you, her movements becoming more erratic and rushed as her orgasm approached.

“Does that little brain of yours ever work?” you shot back, a sly smirk playing on your lips—one she couldn’t see, but knowing you, she could sense it. She hated how easily you could turn her into this desperate, needy creature, and she hated even more how you always made fun of her when she got this weak for you.

“I swear to-” She released a frustrated huff, her voice strained and tinged with annoyance as she spoke through clenched teeth. Her nails dig into the soft skin of your hips, leaving imprints of crescent moons behind.

Her reaction only fueled your playful cruelty. “Aww… what? Is my baby mad?” you crooned, a smirk playing at the corners of your lips. “So fucking pathetic.” you hissed.

“Shut up,” she muttered quietly, her voice low and uneven, her clit throbbing madly at each word that came out of your mouth, “I’m-’m close,” she whimpered into your ear, burying her face between your neck and shoulder, feeling the cold tip of her freckled nose press against your skin.

“That’s it? Gonna cum in your boxers from a little friction?” you chuckled, her grasp tightening on your hips, your eyes darting to the bowl of pancake batter, lying there, forgotten and abandoned.

At your small chuckle, her head rose from your shoulder, and she shot you a look that you would’ve missed if you hadn’t turned your head ever so slightly at her sudden shift in position. She gazed intently at you, her brows drawn together in a slight frown. Her mesmerizing green crystalline eyes seemed unusually dark, while a rosy flush adorned her face.

“What are you… what are you gonna do about it?” A valiant effort was made to gather her composure, but her attempts were in vain as she struggled to stifle the whimpers that involuntarily slipped from her trembling lips. The muscles in her abdomen tensed beneath the gentle fabric of the oversized shirt.

“Hmm… I could move and not let you finish.”

Ellie let out a shaky exhale at your playful threat, her pace becoming desperate, and she could feel her legs starting to give up. “Don’t you dare,” she warned, trying to sound intimidating.

You smirked at her words and slowly moved away from her grasp, making her whine like a lost puppy.

“No, no, no,” she repeated frantically, her mind and body instantly going into panic mode as she reached for your arm again, yanking your body back against her. “Please, please, I’m so sorry. So sorry,” she muttered out a series of apologies and sweet nothings, kissing your neck pleadingly, trying to get what she wanted.

You clicked your tongue and shook your head, a taunting chuckle slipping away as you edged just out of reach of your girlfriend’s frantic kisses. Her kisses, fervent and pleading, missed their mark, and you couldn’t help but enjoy the power you held over her at that moment. You had her wrapped around your fingers when all she wanted was to ride your fingers. 

“Only good girls get to cum,” she groaned at your words, “Now, how ’bout you help me make pancakes?” Your question was accompanied by a lively and playful tone, which starkly contrasted her frustrated mood. Your eyes sparkled with mischief as you gazed at her, fully aware of the turmoil you were causing within her and enjoying every second of it. She was desperate for touch, for release, but you denied it to her. So fucking cruel.

Ellie looked at you through dark, full lashes, her face a canvas of desperate need, adorned with a constellation of freckles that dusted her pale skin. “Whatever, be that way,” She grumbled and scowled as she moved out of your personal space, giving you attitude.

“Get to work, slave,” You joked, watching her saunter over to the stove. She turned the fire on, her movements smooth and practiced as she reached for the pan, the soft clatter of metal on metal filling the kitchen. As she poured some oil, its golden stream glistening in the morning light, you couldn’t help but let your mind wander to what was to come.

In your mind’s eye, you saw her back on your bed, her skin slick and glistening, her breath coming in quick, heated pants as she begged you to fuck her hard, just as she needed.

The thought of her beneath you, oiled up and ready for you, brought a sly grin to your face and a flutter in your pussy stomach.

Breakfast was just the beginning, after all.

She gave you a constant onslaught of attitude throughout the breakfast. She pouted and glowered, her sour mood a bitter blend of disappointment and indignation. Occasionally, she huffed or muttered something under her breath, her annoyance growing with each passing moment. She gobbled down the fluffy pancakes as she shot you glares. Poor thing, all flustered and needy, sitting there, denied of something she craved so desperately.

It was more than obvious that you would satisfy her urgent needs right after satisfying your own appetite. After all, you were starving and would need all the energy you could get for the intense workout in store for the two of you. 

You pulled as many moans and gasps from her as you could, your manicured nails slipping on the soft, slippery skin of her thighs as you eagerly lapped at her folds.

You kept taking and taking, relentless and insatiable. Ellie was a fucked-out mess, babbling nonsense as she teetered on the edge of yet another release. You were fucking her dumb, and you weren’t even close to being finished with her.

“Another one, Els. C’mon, be a good girl for me,” you pleaded with a breathy voice, coaxing her with every word until she gave you precisely what you wanted. She was that good of a slut for you, and you loved every second of it. 

“I know, babe,” you cooed sweetly, your fingers knuckles-deep inside her, her moist and abused walls pulsing around them.

She was a whiny mess, squirming so much that you had to pin her down, her teeth harshly biting her bottom lip, her green eyes teary from the overwhelming pleasure you were giving her. “I know, I know- but it’s gonna make you feel better,” you murmured, knowing her mind was too far gone to focus on your words.

“Just need to cum on my fingers, ’s all.” and all she needed to do was just lay there and take it. Take what she had wished for the whole morning like a needy brat.

Only after about ten orgasms did you decide it was time to let your poor girlfriend recover. Her skin was flushed, and a fine sheen of sweat glistened in the golden light that tiptoed through the window, her chest heaving as she struggled to catch her breath. Her whole body trembled like a leaf, and the sheets beneath her were damp, ready to be thrown into the washing machine. Your thumb trailed down her happy auburn trail, her bush glistening with her own juices; her pearlescent sweetness dripping down onto the mattress, just like syrup.

daily click・palestine masterpost・neil druckmann is a zionist・more daily clicks.

[they-call-me-emmy]

Stars

JENNA ORTEGA X GN! CO-STAR READER

"Work buddies, that's all."

........................................................

Y/N POV:

God, you never expected to actually get the job. You'd auditioned almost for fun.

You were a small actor. usually played background characters, or main characters in lesser known movies. So when you signed up for Wednesday, season two, it was almost a joke.

Until you made it.

You'd been told only a month before shooting. Which, this alone shocked you deeply, as now you had to travel to Romania. What shocked you even more was the fact they didn't give you the role you had auditioned for.

They'd given you Wednesday's crush.

They told you it was a big role. One of the leads. You'd be an important character, so if you couldn't accept the role, tell them now.

So you accepted it.

......

Meeting Jenna Ortega was probably the most exciting moment of your life. She was excited to meet her partner for season two, and had come bounding up to you happily, headphones around her neck and a big smile on her face.

"I'm Jenna!" She told you excitedly. Her dimple was deep, her eyes sparkled with happiness.

"Y/N" you grin back, reaching out your hand to let her shake. She accepted it, your hands gracing each others, sending a spark through your arm.

"You're gonna be my crush in the show, right?!"

You nod, confirming her suspicions.

"Here, you can go over there to get a script. They want us to read them a lot, and if you need anything, I'll be in the make-up room." She told you, pointing to a table filled with stapled papers, and then to a room labeled "MAKEUP AND SPECIAL EFFECTS"

You nod again. "Thank you!"

"No problem!" She said, before skipping away. She must have had caffeine this morning, she'd never seemed this hyper in any interview or video you'd seen of her. She'd always seemed so laid back and chill.

Emma Myers suddenly stood next to you. You'd met you yesterday, and the two of you had quickly bonded. She read the confusion on your face easily.

"She definitely likes you." Emma stated, rolling her eyes.

"I would hope so, since we're working together for the next god knows how many months."

"No..." Emma sighed, facing you. "She LIKES you."

"No she doesn't!" you respond, scrunching your face up.

"She's never been that hyper in her life."

"She probably had coffee today." you tell Emma. "Like, a lot."

"She doesn't like coffee."

"Energy drinks."

"She has to maintain the sleep deprived Wednesday look anyways."

"Isn't she like, 20? No 20 year old I've ever met still leaps around because of a crush."

"She's 21." Emma sighs.

"We barely know each other."

............

"CUT!"

Jenna sighs, looking at you. "I swear, if we have to do this take one more time, someones losing their tongue."

"Woah!" You exclaim, tossing your hands up. "Don't go all Addams on me now, Ortega!"

She giggles and shakes her head. "I make no promises."

Time with Jenna was nice. You'd never thought a big-time celebrity like her would be fun to hang out with. You always thought they were work, 24/7.

But she was cool.

..................

"So...uhm, I was wondering if you'd...maybe you would...go...would you go to...to the cafe with me....like...the cafe with me...on a...on a...a date maybe?"

(Me speaking to my boyfriend be like)

You giggled, the actions reminding you of her scene last season where she had to ask out "Xavier".

"Yes Jenna, I would love to."

Like a scene straight out of a fucking show.

.............

"Hi Y/N!" She said, clutching herself tightly and smiling.

"Hi Jen!" You respond. She blushed, from the cold or the nickname, you couldn't tell.

She was wearing a brown jacket, her nose pink from cold. She had headphones around her neck and a smile on her face.

"So, the cafe..." She started. Pointing to a small shop, she said, "That way!" She quickly bounded off, leaving you in the dust.

"Jenna, wait!" You cry, quickly speeding after her. Luckily for you, she had short legs and you easily caught up with her.

Out of breath, you both stop in front of the cafe. The cold allowed you to breathe out puffs of chilly air. Jenna's cheeks were pink.

"We made it!" You mumbled, leaning forward and pushing the door open. You held it open and let her pass through.

"Thank you." She whispered to you as you followed her inside.

"No problem, m'lady." You joke, spotting a table for two and rushing to grab it.

You both sat down, facing each other.

"Do you wanna go order something...?"

Jenna nodded. "What do you want?"

"Uhm, just like a muffin or something."

She nodded, running into the line and shooting you a smile and a thumbs up.

You chuckle and wave back at her.

She orders and sits down at the table, handing you a muffin and seems to have bought herself a cookie.

"How much do I owe you?" You ask, taking a bite of your muffin.

"My treat." She whispers, wide eyed as she bit into her cookie.

....................

"I had fun today," Jenna said happily, skipping on the pavement.

"Me too," You chuckle. "We should do this more often."

She squeals and nods.

"Definitely!"

.......................

WOW MORE TRASH!

fuckn sucks ass bro

its okay tho because im 13 and suck at this shit.

[pascaloverx]

UNREQUITED LOVE

Summary: Being a new student is already complicated. But when you end up developing an unwanted crush on a schoolmate, everything seems to get worse. This particular schoolmate is romantically involved with someone. And to make matters worse, the popular school quarterback starts to bother you.

Author's Note: This fanfic will be short and set in the universe of the movie Bottoms (2023), directed by Emma Seligman, using the characters from the film. The characters do not belong to me. The fanfic will not strictly follow all the situations from the movie. I hope you enjoy it. Initially, there will be no adult content. There will only be inappropriate language and scenes of violence.

TWO

THREE

You don't want to be dramatic, but your first day at the new school is a much bigger challenge than you imagined it would be. After chemistry class, you had math with a teacher who spent more time flirting with Jeff than actually teaching anything. During the break, you couldn't avoid Josie and her group. It's not that you wanted to avoid her, but spending the time you should be using to eat in peace watching adorable couples seemed like something that would make you sad. Besides, from a distance, you saw Hazel's girlfriend with her at the table. The last thing you need is to see the girl you might be attracted to with someone else. So you ate alone in the bathroom, which is kind of gross, but you promised yourself that you would pretend it never happened. The rest of the day was almost as if you were invisible. That is, until after your last class, when you ran out because the bus that would take you straight home was about to pass near your school. But as soon as you turned, you collided with someone. The moment your body hit theirs, you fell to the ground.

"Can't you watch where you're going, damn it?" you mutter furiously. It had to be the number one enemy of peace: Jeff, the jerk quarterback.

"Look who's got a sharp tongue. Little nerd, you were the one who ran into me. But I think it's cute that you want to crawl on the floor to get to me." Jeff says, striking a pose like he’s Superman. You roll your eyes and try to get up. Without success.

"Your stupidity is honestly infuriating. I would never crawl to you. In fact, every interaction I’ve had with you today has been against my will. And since I’m being honest, calling me a nerd isn’t as groundbreaking as you think. There are a thousand other ways you could address me that would be more insightful and creative." You say as you struggle to get up from the ground. Your other classmates are already leaving the class you were in, and thanks to the idiot in front of you, you missed your bus.

"You should worry more about getting off the ground than giving me tips on what to call you, nerd," Jeff says, winking at you. Before you can think about kicking him, he moves away from you, almost skipping. How infuriating. As you finally manage to stand up, you notice Hazel watching you, as if she had been waiting for you.

"How long are you going to keep looking at me?" You ask as you brush the dirt from the floor off your clothes. The anger you're feeling right now could make you go after Jeff and kill him. But the truth is that you already have enough problems and don't want to be transferred again.

"I thought you'd want a ride. And it was a little fun watching you get up by yourself." Hazel speaks while exuding an air of amusement at your humiliation. You instantly roll your eyes.

"You don't need to give me a ride, walking home is the icing on the cake of this horrible day at school." You’re out of patience, especially since it seems you can’t avoid either Jeff or Hazel.

"Are you so afraid of being alone with me?" Hazel asks with a mischievous smile, which makes you a little indignant.

"Try to decide what you want to accuse me of doing, either I'm in love with Jeff or I can't resist you, Both aren't worth it." You say while looking straight into Hazel's eyes. Your concentration is all on not looking at her mouth and imagining what it would be like to kiss her lips.

"I'm still getting to know you. I can't say exactly which option is right. But come to think of it, you probably like me." Hazel is very confident while suggesting that you like her. How can someone you’ve known for less than twenty-four hours already deduce that, and be right about it? It’s insane.

“Alright, you win. I’ll accept your ride if it means you’ll stop talking and we can move on.” You say while trying not to admit any attraction to Hazel.

"My car is the one to your left. If you’d follow me, mademoiselle, I’ll take you home." Hazel says, pointing to her car while accompanying you to it. She seems eager to impress you, even opening the car door for you.

“You know, I can open a door myself. And I just noticed that you offered me a ride without knowing where I live. What if it’s out of your way?” you say while getting into the car and fastening your seatbelt.

“I think I mentioned wanting to take you to my place before dropping you off at yours so we could work on the chemistry project together, remember?” Hazel says with a mischievous chuckle as she starts driving. You look at her with a judging stare.

“You know what I think? That you’re taking advantage of the situation to spend more time with me. Which doesn’t make much sense since you were accusing me of liking you, but it’s actually you who wants to spend your free time with me, even though you’re already committed.” You emphasize while turning to look at Hazel, who is focused on driving but glances at you with a sideways smile for a few seconds.

“First of all, I’m not committed. PJ and I hook up sometimes, but it’s not a serious or exclusive relationship. And I never said I wasn’t interested in you; I only accused you of being interested in me. Don’t blame me for stating the obvious.” Hazel replies with such calmness. You regret bringing up her commitment status, realizing it might come off as jealousy.

“Well, whatever. Your personal life is none of my business. What is my business is where you’re taking me.” You say softly, trying to appear uninterested in Hazel’s life. Wherever you’re going, there are beautiful gardens along the way.

“Actually, it was cute to see that I sparked jealousy in you so quickly. You must be the type who gets attached easily, which is sweet. And we’re almost at my place.” Hazel says, glancing at you briefly as if to reassure you.

“As long as we only talk about the project, it’s fine with me.” You say, still trying to appear disinterested. Hazel chuckles and then parks the car in front of a large house.

“And what else could we do besides talk about the project?” Hazel asks, getting close to your face as if she’s about to kiss you. You, foolishly, close your eyes as if expecting the kiss. But instead, she simply removes your seatbelt for you.

“Are you trying to mess with me?” you say, still with your eyes closed, thinking Hazel has already pulled away. But when you slowly open your eyes, you find her watching you, not in a weird way, but as if she’s enchanted by you.

“I am. And I hope it’s working,” Hazel says, then moves towards you, pulling you in for a kiss. The kiss is gentle and surprising, yet overwhelmingly captivating. Her lips touch yours as if both of you were starved for it. For a moment, you lose yourself there in Hazel’s car, savoring the sweet taste of her mouth. Then her phone rings, and after trying to ignore it, she answers, interrupting the kiss. Noticing it's PJ, you decide to wait outside the car. So, you stand there, next to the car of someone who interrupted a breath-stealing kiss to answer her situationship.

[secretswiftymarvelfan]

The Interview Series: Agree to Disagree - Chris Evans x Reader

A/N: Not all opinions in this oneshot reflect my own views

Summary: After working on an animated movie together, you finally get to meet your co-star and find out exactly how much you agree on.

Pairing:  Chris Evans x British!Actress!Reader

Word Count: 1.8k

Warnings: Fluff! Dialogue Heavy! Mention of current political climate!

Dividers by @firefly-graphics​

Masterlist 

You had to admit you were slightly nervous this morning. It was the first day of the UK press tour and today was the first day you’d be meeting your co-star. Because that was the way with animated movies, you’d spend your time in the recording booth all alone with only the director and technicians. Sometimes you’d hear your co-star's voice if they’d already taped their section of the conversation, but you’d never meet them.

 So far during the press tour, you’d either been alone for the interviews, or you’d been with other members of the cast. You’d yet to meet your fellow lead actor, the guy who voiced your character's love interest, the one and only Chris Evans.

 You had to admit you had a teeny tiny crush on the man that once played Captain America, and you were worried that he’d never meet the expectations you had in your head because they do say never meet your heroes. Yet you were pleased to report that Chris lived up to every expectation, he was the perfect gentleman and you’ve never had so much fun doing interviews. And this was him suffering from Jetlag, leaving you to wonder what he’d be like fully energised.

In the few hours you’d spent together, it felt like you’d already established some good foundations for a friendship, however that could be about to crumble with the next interview.

 “is it weird that I feel nervous?” you say as you sit down at the agree to disagree table.

 Chris chuckles as he sits down “why are you nervous?” he asks.

 “I mean we’ve only known each other a day, what if we end up disagreeing over something that destroys this friendship,” you say gesturing between the two of you.

 “you guys have only just met?” the director of the shoot asks surprised.

 “Yeah, that’s the thing with animated movies, you do all your parts alone and don’t meet anyone until the press or the premier” Chris explains nodding his head.

 “Yeah and I had to skip the LA premier because I was so poorly, I think I ate some dodgy plane food,” you say with a small grimace.

 “It's a good thing these guys know how to pull together a good cast, imagine if you had to do press with a diva or something,” Chris says shaking his head.

 “well….” You say your voice high as you tilt your head side to side.

 “oh is that how it is?” Chris asks laughing, you just smirk and wink back at him.

 “okay we’ll start off easy: stealing movie set props is totally normal” the director reads out “3, 2, 1”

 Both you and Chris instantly move your glasses over to the strongly agree sections of the table.

 “I mean I haven’t done it myself” you smirk making Chris laugh “but I mean if somehow things find their way back to my place then who am I to say anything?” you say holding your hands up.

“Totally, I mean I’m just into theft in general” Chris states shrugging his shoulder.

“yeah I mean finder’s keepers” you laugh, Chris nodding along with you.

“what have you stolen?” the director asks.

“Everything!” Chris says shaking his head.

“hearts, mind and souls” you laugh.

Chris grins nodding his head “oh yeah definitely hearts” he smirks.

“okay next one: I am excellent at karaoke” the director reads out.

You move your glass straight to the strongly disagree while Chris moves his to the agree section.

“whoa, whoa, whoa hold up! I call bullshit!” Chris exclaims pointing to your glass.

“I am terrible! Absolutely terrible!” you laugh shaking your head.

“no you are not,” Chris says pointing over at you “I’ve seen that video of in that karaoke bar with Scarlett”

“she showed you that!” you exclaim in disbelief.

“Yup, and you brought the house down!” Chris exclaims “you can sing, very well in fact, much better than me”

You shake your head in disbelief, not only at the fact Scarlett showed him that video, but that he remembered it well enough to bring it up and compliment you’re singing abilities.

“she’s a traitor, I will be having words” you state shaking your head.

“Next question: the US office is better than the UK office” the director reads out.

Once again you and Chris are on opposite sides of the table, you firmly on strongly disagree while he’s on strongly agrees.

“well you’re just wrong” Chris states shaking his head.

“no I’m not, the OG office will always be superior, I’ll admit the US office is better than other copycat shows but you guys just don’t understand our humour and repeatedly murder our beloved shows” you argue.

“isn’t imitation the best form of flattery?” Chris points out, arching a brow.

“Not when you take everything that’s good and completely disregard it, and create the monstrosities you guys make” you state firmly.

Chris nods his head “agree to disagree?” he asks holding his hand out.

You throw your head back laughing “deal” you say shaking his hand.

“Next question, Captain America has the suit of any superhero” the director reads out.

You move your glass to the agree, while Chris moves his to disagree.

“I have to disagree, of course, I’m a little biased, but we have to play by our truths” Chris starts “it's not the best suit”

“I mean it's not the best overall but I think it’s a pretty good suit” you argue.

“it’s the suit that's best for him, and it works for him, but if we’re measuring against all the avengers, it's not the best suit, they’re all better than his” Chris says shaking his head.

“I guess, does good things for your tooshie though” you point out making Chris laugh.

“my tooshie?” he laughs.

“Yup,” you nod smiling back at him.

“Next question: American football is better than Rugby” the director reads out

You and Chris move your glasses to opposite ends of the table, him strongly agreeing, you strongly disagreeing.

“I mean of course we’ve grown up watching different sports, and I just don’t understand American football, you don’t even use your feet!” you say.

Chris laughs shrugging his shoulders “I mean nobody’s perfect”

“I did use to preach that American football was more dangerous but then I did see a six nations match, and all these guys are massive and the tackles are insane” Chris explains.

“yeah they could rip you in half, and we don’t wear any padding” you point out.

“True, true” Chris nods “I just grew up on American football and I don’t understand Rugby enough to enjoy it,” Chris says shrugging his shoulders.

“Exactly, and I think with any sport if you don’t understand the rules of it, you will never enjoy it” you agree.

“Definitely, tell you what, let's watch them together and explain the rules to each other” Chris suggests pointing between the two of you.

“deal” you nod shaking his hand.

“Next question: A difference in political views is a red flag,” the director says.

You keep your glass on the neutral line while Chris moves his to the agree “I think this is kinda the UK vs US again” you say gesturing to the glasses “cause here in the UK while there is a political divide, its nothing like the US”

“Right,” Chris says nodding along.

“Like I have liberal political views, but some of my best friends are tory voters, we have different views of how the country should be run and where the money should go but when it comes to the big things like basic human rights we generally agree” you explain “that being said I would never be able to date someone who’s political views infringe on people’s basic human rights, abortion and gay rights”

“yeah I completely agree with that, small differences are fine but with issues like that you kinda have to agree if you wanna move forward together,” Chris says nodding his head.

“okay we’ll go a little lighter for the next one: the British accent is the sexiest” the director reads out.

“I don’t think we’ve agreed once,” you say as you move your glass to disagree and Chris moves his to agree.

Chris laughs shaking his head “only once so far, but I mean your accent is pretty sexy I have to say” he says his voice deepening as he leans forward.

“I mean I guess it’s alright,” you say shrugging your shoulders.

“It's very sophisticated, but not I poop on a golden toilet posh,” Chris says making you laugh loudly.

“Thanks, but saying British accent is too broad, and not all of them are sexy,” you say shaking your head “you have the scouse, Geordie, Brummie, west country accents that are generally a lot harsher and less melodic than the British accent you hear on screen, I mean I know I hide a lot of my accent because it doesn’t translate well to screen” you explain.

“Really?” Chris asks surprised.

“Yeah I mean I wasn’t born there but I spent a lot of my life in the west country, so you pick up phrases and pronunciations, if I spend too much time over there I go full farmer” you chuckle.

“Now that is something id like to see” Chris laughs.

“And I mean your accent,” you say before whistling “damn sexy, it's no wonder they cast you in this movie,” you say making Chris laugh loudly.

“Okay, last one: cats are better than dogs,” the director says, both you and Chris moving your glasses to the disagree.

“hey look we’re finally agreeing again!” you exclaim pointing to the glasses.

Chris smiles warmly over at you, nodding his head “I’m not gonna strongly disagree because I respect cats, they’re beautiful animals but I’d rather have a dog” 

“same, I feel like a dog just wants to be your friend while you really have to work with cats, gain their respect,” you say nodding your head.

“which is respectable, to be honest, gotta earn their trust,” Chris says nodding his head.

“exactly, but even then, you can feed them every day of their lives and they still don’t wanna be in the same room as you” you point out shaking his head.

“Yeah, they’re assholes” Chris states making you laugh loudly.

The director then called cut, allowing you and Chris to stand back up and start making your way offset.

“Okay I have one more question,” Chris says putting his hand on your arm to stop you “I enjoy spending time with the person next to me, and want to spend more time together”

You smile up at him “strongly agree”

“good me too, follow up question I want to spend my time after the premier tonight getting drinks with the person opposite me” Chris grins looking down at you, his eyes making you melt.

“strongly, strongly agree” you grin nodding your head, biting your lower lip slightly.

“Great, it’s a date” Chris winks.

Sharing is caring so reblog if you enjoyed this!

Let me know what interviews you want to see!

Masterlist / Series Masterlist

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[pearlparty]

Goodbye, Angel

Austin!Elvis x Reader, Elvis x Reader

Summary:  Break ups are tough, especially when no one did anything wrong.  She wants Elvis’ career to reach the heights he deserves, even if that means breaking his heart.  

Warnings:  Angst, very light smut (if you can even call it that lol), some negative self-talk, the Colonel is a dick, mild language, reckless driving, no use of y/n

Word Count:   5.3k (I went a little overboard sorry lol)

Note:  I tried something a little new with this and have this in 3rd person perspective because I wanted to do more of an omniscient POV to get everyone’s emotions and stuff, so please let me know if you hate it--like please be mean to me about it.  Bully me.  Roast me. Let me know if you prefer 2nd person perspective (the one that uses you/your)  I want to improve lol.  This is meant to be a reader fic, so our MC is only called Baby by Elvis.  Idk if that technically makes her an OC or not--I’ll let you decide on that one. 

The headlights stretched down the road, the lonely beams reaching out in the night only to find nothing but a few trees reaching toward the stars.  No wandering eyes.  No other drivers.  Just her and the car coasting down the lonely backroad, with a sense of dread settling into her stomach and tears streaming down her face as the radio played and the moon watched.

 Tears welled in her eyes, blurring her vision, as the Colonel’s words echoed in her mind.  He’d stopped by her small apartment a couple of hours ago, and she was far too polite to slam the door in his face and send him on his way.  Mama had always taught her to be gracious to guests and “do what Jesus would do” so she allowed him to waddle in, plop into one of the armchairs, curl his chubby fingers over the creepy clown on his cane and say what he needed to say.  The bizarre situation had her wondering what this man would have to say to her, but she’d never have guessed he had the audacity to insult her to her face.  

It was a quick conversation.  He skipped over pleasantries and got straight to the point by bringing up Elvis’s popularity with the younger female fans, and flat out said that if she continued her relationship with him, things wouldn’t work out like they could.  “He needs to be available,” the fat man had put it plainly, “and with you in the picture, he can’t be.  Besides, a backwater, country girl like you can’t compete with the love of his fans.”  If he noticed the emotions flitting over her face, he didn’t comment on it and instead pushed further.  “You are no good for him, or his career.  You need to leave him, or he will not be able to achieve the success he deserves.”  He’d said the words so matter of fact in his stupid voice that she almost wondered if it was a cruel joke. 

It wasn’t.  

“You don’t want to be the reason that he can’t live his dream do you?” His question rang in her ears and an intense guilt settled into her stomach.

It was crushing, but nothing she hadn’t heard before.  She’d occasionally listened to the insecure voice in the back of her head--the one that reminded her that she didn’t really deserve Elvis--her angel--or how he’d swept her into his arms and given her an escape from her drunken mother all that time ago.  

Their friendship had begun when they were so young; she'd stopped a few of the other boys from poking fun at his stutter in 9th grade and they’d bonded over their love of comics and music.  He’d made time for her outside his friends and loved inviting her over after school.  He’d say it was so they could read Captain Marvel Jr. or do homework together, but she knew he was trying to help her get away from her chaotic homelife for a little longer.  It had blossomed into something more after graduation when they shared a night of stargazing, confessing their secrets to the moon.  

He’d stolen a kiss and her heart in the same night. 

They had it all--giggling and wandering hands in movie theaters, disagreements about the condiments that belonged on hot dogs, and soft reassurances after long crying sessions.  He’d become her safe haven, a piece of tranquility in her hectic home life. He always listened intently and did what he could to help where he could, even if she said she’d be fine and could do it herself. He even helped her when she moved out and got her own place--a shitty little apartment with creaky floorboards and a faucet that dripped a little too loudly at night.  He’d offered to spot her some cash for a better place, but she declined.  The apartment wasn’t the Ritz, but it was hers.  All hers.  They’d spend hours there, away from the prying eyes of family, talking about everything and nothing.  She supported his dream for the arts, encouraged him to take risks.  Once he’d landed a deal at Sun Records and gotten more attention, that small voice prodded again.  

What if I’m not good enough for him?  

The voice nagged that she’d be bad for his image and prevent him from climbing to the heights that he wished to see.  She usually dismissed the thoughts, but hearing them out loud and from another person only seemed to confirm the worst of her fears. 

She was the worst thing that could happen to him right now.  She was holding him back.

The fat man had finished things with a simple, “You understand don’t you?  It’s just business.” She forced herself to nod before calmly ushering him out of her house, a whisper of stale cigar smoke lingering in the air.  

It was only after his car left the parking lot that she allowed herself to cry--a dull ache erupted in her chest and spread to her extremities as she considered her options.  Stay with the love of her life but jeopardize his career, or leave and break both of their hearts to help him succeed?  Would he resent her if she became the reason things tanked and he couldn’t afford to give his family a life of luxury?  What if she was worrying about nothing and everything would be fine?  Maybe they could have it all:  the glamor and the love.  But it wasn’t guaranteed.  Nothing ever was.  The road to success is paved with sacrifices, and while it holds promises of fortune and glory, it always takes its toll along the way.

But the Colonel was right, wasn’t he?  About everything.  Elvis had just gotten a taste of fame, and the adjustment was already harder than she’d expected.  She could barely keep up with it all now.  How could a little backwater country girl like her follow him to more?  She was just a simple girl meant for a simple life--built to drift along the wind on the trees.  He was born for greatness--ready to spread his wings and fly.  He couldn’t coast along the wind currents along the tree line with her, not when he was meant to soar with the angels in the clouds.  She wouldn’t let him.  She wouldn’t be the one to hold him back.

Racing to the car, throwing it into gear, and speeding away wasn’t intentional on her part.  It might have seemed like eagerness and excitement, but that couldn’t be further from it.  She loathed the idea of what she was about to do, dreaded it the whole way over, but her chest was so heavy and filled with emotions that she felt like it would burst.  She needed to get it over with and fast or she’d suffocate.  “Rip it off like a bandage--act like a grownup,” she’d told herself.  

The high beams flickered over the sign ahead, its white lettering a stark contrast to the red surrounding it.  STOP.  A wet laugh left her lips.  

I can’t.  

She didn’t hit the brakes or let up on the gas--she floored it.  The engine groaned with effort, accelerating to a speed well above the limit, but she didn’t care and blazed through it without a second thought.  Her car zoomed into the intersection, and a pair of headlights beamed into her passenger window.  A horn blared, but it didn’t matter.  She was reckless, angry, and secretly hoping that something would come along to prevent her from reaching her destination.  The tires screamed as they scraped the pavement, the back bumper kissing the asphalt with a flash of sparks as the car climbed the small hill.   The other driver zoomed through the intersection behind her, likely shaking their fist in the darkness, but still in one piece.  

She’d made it through unscathed.  Dammit.

A sudden burst of fury bled through the sharp sadness and left her skin hot.  She smacked her fist into the wheel.  “This isn’t fair!” she cried, angry tears burning behind her eyes.  “Why can’t I have the things I want?!”  No one was there to hear, though.  Just an empty road and the moon spying through her back window.  

A light orchestra faded in over the radio followed by Bing Crosby’s jazzy crooning.  It was a ballad. 

Be careful.  It’s my heart.

It’s not my watch you’re holding, it’s my heart.

It’s not the note I sent you, that you quickly burned.  

It’s not the book I lent you that you never returned.

Remember, it’s my hear--

The guilt in her stomach crawled up her throat as she slammed the radio in the dashboard, silencing Bing and his pleas.  It seemed everything was telling her to turn around.  To give the Colonel the finger and continue loving her dark haired angel, consequences be damned.  

But she knew she couldn’t.  

***

A sharp knock on his door cut through the still house caused Elvis to jump.  His brow furrowed as he glanced at the clock.  About a quarter after nine.  Who would be stopping by now?  He wasn’t expecting anyone, and Mama and Daddy wouldn’t be home until tomorrow afternoon when they’d finished visiting a family friend.  

He closed his book and set it on the side table as he rose from the armchair and padded over to the door.  He’d gotten home only about a half an hour ago after rehearsing with the guys.  He needed a little peace and quiet after the long week, and reveled in being able to kick off his shoes and relax in the empty house.

The sweet, humid southern air fell around his sock clad feet as he pulled the door open to see his girl on the welcome mat.  His lips curved into a smile at the pleasant surprise.  She was wearing that little yellow flower sundress that he loved--the one with the sweetheart neckline and ruffled skirt that brought his attention to her hips whenever she moved.  She’d paired it with a white cardigan tonight, even though the heat wave didn’t allow the temperature to drop below 85.  God, she was beautiful.  

His smile dropped when he saw the tears in her eyes, the quiver of her chin, and the way her gaze never left his.  Something was wrong.  

“Baby, what--”  He moved to step forward, bring his hand to her face and wipe the tears from her cheek, but she swept into the apartment and pressed her lips to his before he could get a chance to do or say anything else.  He stumbled back for only a second before he found his footing, melting into her.  Another pleasant surprise.  Her trembling fingers grazed their way across his face, caressing his cheeks before tangling in his hair.  On instinct, his hands planted themselves firmly to her waist.  The tang of salt ran over his tongue as she took his full lower lip between hers.

She’d never kissed him like this before.  There was intensity, fervor, yes, but something was off.  She had given him gentle chaste kisses when he bought her flowers for her birthday.  She’d nipped, sucked, and kissed down his jaw to his collarbones when they’d gone stargazing after a midnight swim in the pond near her house.  She’d grabbed him by the collar, pushed him against the kitchen wall and slammed her lips into his after a heated argument about jealousy (which he’d won, by the way).  She had breathed moans to his lips when he stole open mouth kisses during a night of passion after he’d been away for so long.

This was different.  It was desperate.  Needy.  And something else that he couldn’t quite put his finger on.  Sorrowful, maybe.

A quick sob fell from her lips before she pressed them up to his again.  Her hands twisted his curls, gently tugging.  His breath hitched and he tightened his grip on her hips.  As much as he wanted to continue kissing her (and he really wanted to after what she just did), he needed to know what had happened to make her so upset.  He wrapped his fingers around her wrists and gently eased her backward, feeling her chase his lips as the distance grew between their bodies.  

Her eyes were still screwed shut, and the light in the foyer made it easier now to see the puffy, red irritation in her face.  A pang of sorrow bit into his heart.  She’s been sobbing, he thought.  She bit back another cry when her small trembling hands dropped to his chest, gripping his black button down.  He hated seeing her like this.

“Baby,” he cooed, letting his hands move to her shoulders before he brought one up to caress her cheek.  She didn’t move to look at him--she focused on his shirt as his fingers ran over her splotchy skin.  “Baby, what’s wrong?  Did something happen?”  He kept his voice soft, low, afraid that he might scare her off with anything louder.

A wet, wry laugh escaped her chest.  Ironic, she thought.  She came here to do the worst thing imaginable and he was still looking out for her.  She shook her head.  He’s too good to me.  She steadied herself, fixated on his shirt as she rolled the soft fabric between her fingers.  Finally, she met his concerned gaze.

The deep blue oceans in his irises threatened to pull her down into their depths.  She wished they would.  Maybe then she wouldn’t have to do this and everything would be alright.  His fingers stilled on her cheek.

She could practically feel the dread growing in his chest.  

A light breeze ghosted over the two of them, the door still agape.  He didn’t move to close it, though.  His only priority was the girl in front of him.  She’s all that mattered.

She sucked in a breath, gathering every ounce of strength she had in her body before speaking.  “I’m sorry.”  It came out more as a whisper.  “I just had to kiss you one last time.”  She allowed her thumb to graze his lower lip and chin before settling on the sliver of exposed skin on his chest.  

“‘One last’?--” he shook his head as if dismissing the words because he’d clearly misheard her.  “What are you talking about, baby?” Both hands were cupping her face now.  “Just tell me what’s wrong, and I’ll fix it for you,” he urged.  Panic almost crept into his voice, but he kept it soft and low as he tried to understand.  He searched her face for any kind of clue, something that told him that she really didn’t mean what she’d just said.  His heart caught in his chest.  

Surely, she couldn’t mean one last time, right?  

“Oh, angel,” she breathed out as she brought her fingers to his cheek, “you always were much too good to me.”

“Baby, what’s goin--” 

“I have to leave, angel,” she cried, almost in pain.  The words cut him off and struck him to the bone.  Leave?

“For how long?” he asked, brow furrowing.  

She shook her head, tears spilling over her lashes, not wanting to say the words.  It was too painful.  Please, don’t make me say it.

“For how long, baby?” he repeated, locking eyes with her.  Her heart sank at the nickname.  He loved calling her that--more than her real name.  

“Forever.”  She had to force it out in a whisper.  

“‘Forever’?” he repeated.  Why was she being so cryptic?  “Baby, what the hell you talkin’ ‘bout?” She held his gaze, another tear staining her cheek, but didn’t answer.

He stared at her for a moment, processing it all.  Leaving?  Forever?  But that would mean…

The realization hit him like a ton of bricks.  His eyes flitted over her face for any sign that it wasn’t true.  Her glassy gaze was unwavering, serious.  Final.

“No,” he whispered, shaking his head and dropping his hands.  He barely even noticed her apologizing again as he backed away, knocking into the wall behind him.  As if escaping would make this all go away.  His quaking hands raked through his hair, grasping at the roots to try to rationalize the scene playing out before him.  

“No,” he repeated the whisper, sadder than the last one.  His mouth fell open, trying to find the right words, fighting off the tears burning behind his eyes.  “You c-c-can’t--you’re not--why--no,” he stammered, swallowing thickly. “You’re l-leaving me?”  His stutter always seemed to come back when he was stressing out.

He was hoping, praying for her to shake her head no.  Say it was all a cruel joke, or a moment of panic--something that said she really loved him and it was fine.  Pull him into her arms and sit there for a moment as she whispered soft reassurances in his ear.  

But that moment never came.  Her small fingers played with the hem of her cardigan as she nodded and muttered, “I have to.”

“No!  No, you don’t have to go!”  he yelped.  The panic crawled over his skin.  “I-I-I can-- I-I can fix this!”  He couldn’t lose her.  “W-w-what--whatever’s wrong, I can fix it, baby!  We’ll figure it all out t-t-together, just like we n--we n--we n-n-normally do.”  He grabbed her hands, begging her to reconsider, but she slipped from his grasp and took a step back, silently shaking her head.  

“No, angel… I have to go--you need to let me go.”  She couldn’t meet his eyes.  

His future shattered.  Heart dropped.  He’d made so many plans for them.  He was going to marry her--they were going to have a summer wedding and a beautiful honeymoon somewhere nice, far away from home.  They were going to spend a few years worshiping each other then start a family--two boys and a little girl that he was going to spoil rotten.  They were going to get a dog and play in the backyard while she baked a pie in the house.  He was going to steal kisses from her when she came around the corner with a basket of laundry.  They’d put the kids to bed and stay up late dancing to old records.  He wanted to send his kids outside to play while he made love to his wife inside after he’d been away from her for too long.  They were supposed to grow old together and then die a few days apart because life would be unbearable without each other.  

He’d wanted it all, and here she was throwing it in his face.

“B-but why--?”  He’d barely breathed the question out when she cut him off.

“I’m not good for you, baby,” she rushed the words out, resisting every urge to reach out and touch him, hold him, make him feel better.  Dammit, why did this have to be so hard?

“What?”  How the hell could she think that?  “No, b-b-baby you’re--you’re--you’re everythin’ to me,” he reeled off, desperately grabbing her hands again.  Maybe there was still a chance to fix this.  “You’re so good for me, you d-don’t even realize--you make me so much b-b-b-better.”

The worst part about his words was how true they were, and she knew it.  They both made each other better, but she still vehemently shook her head, hoping to stop this whole thing--end it now before she had to say something she didn’t want to.  

“I have to do this,” she squeaked out.  A new wave of sadness broke over her, more tears gathering on her lash line.  “Please, let me do this.”  

It was like a knife to his heart.  Their fate was sealed.  There was no negotiating.  Once she’d made up her mind, no one, not even he could convince her otherwise.  He suddenly found himself full of regret, another emotion to add to the cocktail of feelings in his bloodstream.  Maybe he did something wrong--didn’t appreciate her enough or let her know how much he cared.  

The blue in his eyes only seemed to intensify with the glassy tears shimmering back at her.  “But,” he choked out, his voice small, almost meek, “I love you.”  The tears in his eyes finally spilled onto his cheeks, streaking down the soft skin and towards the corners of his lips.  

Her heart squeezed, chin quivered.  Oh, how she wished to say it back.  She squeezed his hands and pressed a gentle wet kiss to his knuckles, the cool metal of his silver ring briefly soothing the heat in her cheeks.  She sucked in a shaky breath, and pressed her forehead to his, breathing in his scent, committing it to memory.  

“That’s why I have to go,” she murmured, a wave of tears falling over her lashes as her voice broke.  “I promise you, angel, it’s better this way.  It’s better if I go.  I’m sorry.  I’m so so sorry.”  

She gave his hands a tight squeeze before letting go and turning to walk back into the warm night air, but stopped short at the door’s threshold.  Tentatively, she turned back towards him, her heart beating fast and loud in her chest.  His chest rose and fell quickly, biting back another round of sobs as he ran his ringed fingers through his hair.  Steel blue eyes met hers.  

Just one last kiss, she told herself before turning on her heel.  

He met her halfway, pulling her into his arms and crashing his lips to hers, arms wrapping around to pull each her impossibly close.  Despite feeling so good to have her pressed against him like this, he couldn’t ignore the ache in his chest.  It seemed that knowing this was their last kiss made it more painful. Each second that passed meant she was one second closer to walking out of his life.  

They moved with the familiar rhythm they’d perfected over their time courting.  He breathed her in, hoping God would show him mercy and slow time just long enough for him to savor every last second with her.  He wanted each one burned into his memory.  The feel of her soft flesh beneath his fingers, the sound of her breath, the scent of her hair, even the taste of her tears on her tongue as they kissed--everything.  He didn’t want to miss a single detail.  He deepened the kiss, gripping the fabric on her waist as though she might disappear if he loosened his grip.  

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled into her mouth, a tear slipping from his eyes and melting between the mess of kisses.  “Oh, baby, ’m so sorry,” he whimpered.  His hand cupped her face, sorrow and regret lining his features as a sob raked through his chest.  A pang of guilt hit her square in the chest.

“It’s not your fault, angel,” she gently corrected him, tugging on his hair and pulling his lips to hers for a quick kiss.  “It’s not your fault that I had to ruin this.”  Her voice broke, quaking at the thought.  “I ruined this, not you.  You…” she paused and sucked in a shaky breath, looking to the stars for strength.  “You are, and always be, my angel.”  She could only leave and wish him the best with his career--with her out of the picture it would be fine and he could reach for the stars like he wanted to.  “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

She brushed a tear from his face again, hoping that he could read the sincerity in her eyes.  He never did anything wrong--it was simply against his nature, but that didn’t stop him from beating himself up.  

He kept her close to his face, his hand firm behind her head as they soaked in the moment, foreheads resting against each other softly.  His breath shuddered through his lungs as he looked at her through his dark tear soaked lashes.  The word slipped from his lips before he had the chance to stop it.  

“Please,” a whine edged into his voice as he begged her with his eyes.  Begged her for more time, a chance to celebrate what they’d once had.  She read him like a book, understanding immediately.  His fingers tangled themselves in her hair as she looked up at him, hesitating to indulge both of their desires.

“I don’t want to hurt you anymore,” she whispered.  As painful as this was for her, she knew it was worse for him--she never even gave him a real reason.  Her angel didn’t deserve this kind of torment, not when he’d done so much for her.  He’d welcomed her with open arms, and she wrenched a blade through his heart.  

“I don’t care if it hurts,” he rasped, his voice coming out a little more husky from the crying.  “I can’t end it like this,” his voice broke as he pressed closer so their noses were touching.  He wanted to delay her departure as much as possible.  He needed to be in her presence a little longer.  End it right.  They couldn’t part ways like this: sobbing messes clinging to each other in the doorway.  “A little more hurt won’t kill me, baby,” his soft voice fluttered into her hair.  “I just need you here a little longer.”

She didn’t want to end it this way either.  If their story was going to end, at least let it be bittersweet.  Close this chapter of their lives on something a little less heartbreaking than weeping in each other's arms.  She could be with him one last time, really appreciate what she had before she let him go, and show him how much she cared.  

Maybe it could be the salve that soothed the agony of this moment.  Maybe they could fool themselves that delaying the inevitable wouldn’t hurt more than leaving now.  This can make us feel a little better about it all.  

It was a lie, and she knew it, but she didn’t care.  She just wanted to be with him one last time.

Her lips met his again slowly, and she allowed herself to twist the knife.  

It was a mess of lips, teeth, and tears.  Needy hands roamed the hills and valleys of the bodies they each knew so well.  They tumbled backwards towards his room, never taking their hands off each other.  Any moment without physical contact was a moment wasted.  Garments slipped to the floor, gently discarded with almost a reverence.  

He was always so gentle with her, but tonight he’d treat her like glass.  Feather light kisses brushed her sternum as he laid her down, cherishing each gasp and moan.  He worshiped her with his mouth, slowly whispering sweet nothings in her ear as he took his time.  Slow love always seemed more meaningful, like a chance to showcase their affections and prove their love to each other.

She pressed hot wet kisses to his jaw and whispered his name like a prayer.  Her nails scraped over his skin, pulling his body, his essence, his soul closer to hers.  She gazed in his eyes, silently hoping he knew how much he was worth to her.  She pressed her face into his neck, breathing in the scent of sweat and cologne, nipping at the soft supple skin.

They kissed away the memories, breathed away the pain.  Their plans faded into the moonlight on the floor.  The hopes and dreams that they’d wished to see each other fulfill, tucked away to a chest of regrets that they could visit on sleepless nights.  Each gasp drawn from the other celebrated what had been.  Each cry was a token of gratitude to the universe for allowing them to love and be loved.  

Strings of praise, pleas, and panting floated into the air as they reached their highs, soaring in the clouds of ecstasy with each other’s names on their lips like a mantra.  Time froze as they relished the moment, taking their time to sink back down to earth with slow sensual kisses and forgotten whispers, collapsing into a mess of tangled limbs and twisted sheets.  

Back to reality.  Bitter reality.  

Muscle memory took over and she wrapped herself in his arms, pulling his warm chest to her back.  She couldn’t bear to look at him now.  The guilt swallowed her whole, drowning her slowly.  She couldn’t imagine the pain she’d experience if she looked him in the eyes.

They laid there for a moment, each knowing what came next.  Each dreading it and hoping something would change so it wouldn’t happen.  She’d barely even shifted under his sheets when his hands tightened on her ever so slightly.  She winced when she dared a glance over her shoulder.  Puffy, bloodshot, cried-out eyes met hers.  Why was she so cruel to someone so good?  

“Please?” he whimpered, his hair falling into his face.  They both had another sob creeping up their throats. This was the end.  Their time had run out, and neither of them wanted to leave the sanctity of this moment.  His voice sounded again, small like a child.

“P-p-please, can I h-hold you just a little longer?”  Tears spilled over his cheeks, his shaky hands pulling her even closer to his chest as he buried his face into the back of her shoulder.  Guilt racked her body.  This was her doing.  She was responsible for making her angel cry like this.  Heat flooded her face as she swiped a tear away, biting back a sob of her own.

“Of course, angel.”

****

He woke up to a cold and empty bed only a few hours later.  He rubbed the sleep from his eyes, glancing around the room as he set his feet on the cool floor.  Moonbeams peaked through the blinds, illuminating the room in a soft blue.  His clothes had been picked up from the floor and neatly folded on the desk.  A soft glint in the corner of his eye tore his gaze from the room to his bedside table.  A small, sad smile crept to his mouth, barely turning up a corner of his mouth.  The glass of water shouldn’t have made his heart clench, but it did.  She’d always made sure to take care of him.  He tentatively reached forward, but gulped the cool water down quickly, welcoming the soothing sensation to his dry throat.  

As he set the now empty glass back, his hand found the nape of his neck, rubbing the skin and tugging on his hair.  Her scent still lingered on his sheets, his skin, gripping his heart in a vice, haunting him.  It all cemented the reality:  he was alone now.  

A gentle breeze oozed through the open window, fluttering the translucent curtains in slow waves.  The airflow was nice--it almost helped break his trance of the same thought echoing in his mind on repeat.

She’s gone.

As much as he wanted to sit up and replay the night’s events in his head over and over, exhaustion settled into his heavy limbs and nearly pulled him under right there.  The bed seemed to welcome him into its warm embrace.  

He could think about it and grieve tomorrow--yes, he could properly come to terms with it all in the morning.  Tonight, he could drift into a wonderful reality where everything was alright.  Perhaps, it was silly, wrong even, to try to delay reality with dreams of soft touches and warm kisses, but he didn’t care.  He’d done it all night, so what was a couple more hours?  

He wouldn’t even notice the scrap of paper on the table until the next morning.  It wasn’t much, a few words scrawled in her delicate handwriting on the back of a newspaper ad for laundry detergent is all:

Love you always.  Goodbye, angel.

Strangely enough, the five little words provided some kind of comfort as he picked up the shattered remains of his heart.  It couldn’t undo the damage or magically make his heartache go away, but it wasn’t supposed to.  All the note could do was make the transition a little less… painful.  It became a little piece of her to carry with him as he tried to move on, a reminder of what they’d had and how good it had been.  He didn’t need a monologue of reasons for why she left, he didn’t want one because this note said something far more important than all of that:  she loved him.  

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

Let me know how you hated it!  I want to improve so literally ANY feedback is welcome (especially the mean stuff lol)

Love y’all lots! xoxo

[nerdycrusadecomputer]

You're pretty <3 | Casey Jr Rottmnt

Oh mah gawd i just got the cutest Idea and I'm not losing it so I'm writing it rn (even tho it's like 11 pm)

This fanfic is about Casey giving compliments to the reader aka u and asking u out (⁠ ͡⁠°⁠ ͜⁠ʖ⁠ ͡⁠°⁠)

Btw this is set a while after the plot of the rottmnt movie and sorry if the rottmnt characters are a bit oc i barely pay attention to any characters when i watch a movie ;-;

We need more fanfics about this boi!!

Key words: y/n - your name; f/f - favorite flower

Rottmnt Casey Jr x fem!reader (I'm sorry ;-;)

Warnings: tooth rotting fluff

Enjoy

---Authors pov---

"hey y/n." Casey called

"yes?" Y/n questioned, turning to the boy, giving her full attention to hear on what he was going to say

"i like your eyes." He said and turned away leaving the room he was just in

"y/n, are you sure you're not dating?" April questioned as she leaned to see where Casey was headed to

"at this point i don't know if he's dropping hints or trying to be nice." Y/n groaned, as she put her face between her hands and leaning back against the couch

"well what if he is dropping hints? You're gonna lose your chance!" April yelled towards y/n

"well what if he's just being nice! I can't just embarrass myself like that!" Y/n yelled towards her friend, pulling her hands off of her face, April noticed the red flair on her cheeks and smirked

"do whatever you wish y/n, just remember, time is ticking." April sang as she turned to leave as well

Y/n just sat there dumbfounded, she grabbed a pillow and pulled it against her face as she screamed in it out of frustration

Meanwhile with Casey:

"What do i do master Leonardo! I kept giving her compliments and 'dropping hints' but she still doesn't get it! Maybe it wasn't meant to be." Casey said as he plopped down on Leo's bed, defeat written all over his face

"no, you're not giving up that easily, you know what, now you're going to be straight forward, kiss her lips!"

"WHAT!?!"

"Okay that is it! This was fun but Leo, you know nothing about dating." Donatello exclaimed

"oh yeah, what do you know then?" Leo teased as he turned to his twin brother, arms crossed

"well most definitely way more than you do, Casey you just gotta tell it to her straight forward, if she doesn't like you back, then just be friends it's that simple-"

"oh what are you guys talking about!" Mikey butted in to the conversation, Raph behind him seeming interstated as well

"Casey has a crush on y/n and doesn't know how to tell her." Leo said as Casey's face turned beat red, embarrassed of the situation, he tried to leave but Mikey stopped him

"oh no, you're not going anywhere untill we get you ready to ask y/n out!" Mikey exclaimed as he pushed Casey towards his room, that they of course built for him a while back when they defeated the krang

"or you can leave him to me." April said as she slid in front of Mikey, right before they could get through the door

"you turtles sure know nothing about dating." April sighed as she made a waving motion for Casey to follow her

"i mean she is right-"

"oh and what do you know miss know it all?" Leo questioned, stopping his older brother, Raph, from finishing his sentence

"i know that you're not supposed to kiss a girl without her consent, in fact you're not supposed to do anything to anyone without consent." April said as she turned to leave

"Wait! Maybe we can help you? We might not know about dating but we can be great when it comes to outfit picking."

"and flower picking!"

"and-"

"okay! you can help! But leave all of the talking practice to me." April said as she pointed her thumb towards her chest proudly

"no problem, now let's go to the mall to get Casey a new outfit!" Mikey yelled excitedly as he pointed towards the ceiling and started running towards the exit

"yeah!" Everyone yelled as they started to run, Casey being pulled by the wrist by April

---time skip---

"go get em tiger!" Leo whispered as he gave Casey a beautiful bouquet of f/f pushing him to the living room

Casey took a deep breath and straightened his outfit as he hyped himself up, as if the turtles, and April, didn't do that just seconds ago

'okay Casey you got this, just remember what you practiced with commander April' he thought as he sighed and walked towards y/n

"heeyyyy y/n." He said as y/n turned towards him

"hi Casey- oh nice flowers, and outfit." She started, "am i forgetting an important occasion or something?" She questioned

"no you're not, hey do you umm... what to- to... Go out with me?" Casey asked as he held out the bouquet towards y/n "oh and these are for you!"

The turtles, including April, cringed at Casey's poor attempt of asking you out

"that wasn't even how we practiced!" April whispered, as she pulled on her hair

"oh- uhm- i mean yeah! I would love to Casey." Y/n smiled as she took the bouquet of her f/f, she grabbed the flustered boys hand as they went out of sight, presumably to go on their date, or for y/n to get ready first

"ah what a beautiful sight, it makes me so sick." Leo said as he fake gagged, "anyway I'm gonna go to my room and take a nap, peace!"

"I'm glad they got together, where did you even get the flowers Mikey?" Raph asked as he turned towards his younger brother

"from the flower shop where else?" Mikey said

"how much did it cost?" Raph asked

"y'know i sould probably also take a nap-"

"Mikey!"

And that is all, sorry that it is kinda shit but I'm fairly new in the fandom, oh and sorry if everyone is kinda oc

Anyway hope you have a great day/ night/ afternoon

Bye!!!

[aquaburst3]

I'm starting my own take on Pomefiore. That means Neige is coming into play a lot more. While I seen posts saying why they enjoy him and think he's a fleshed out character, I still think he's the complete opposite.

He has almost no personality. His good personality traits are similar to the Golden Aged princesses and princes. Charming, kind, gullible and easily forgiving. There is nothing inherently wrong with this. I enjoy Cinderella. I don't mind Snow White for what she is, especially given the fact it was one of the first animated movies ever and was created at a time when male writers didn't know how to write female characters yet. The problem is that none of Neige's similar traits are examined or developed. He is as static and bland as they come. Hell, Snow White from the 30s movie is a better developed character than him! That REALLY says something...

He has done some pretty shitty things in the arc. He picked his buddies to be on his team, slamming the door on anyone else at RSA with actual talent. Instead of working on his routine, he came up with a half assed on. He relied on the dwarves' cutesiness and childlike appearance to win over the crowd, going against everything the competition stands for. Do I think Neige is a bad person for this? Absolutely not. However, like Kalim, I think he's an inconsiderate, thoughtless and selfish person, who is like a Disney prince who just skipped straight to his happy ending without earning it. Unlike Kalim who learns that how he's acting is hurting others, especially Jamil, and tries to improve himself, Neige is treated as being in the right and never learns anything, despite hurting many other people. That is anger inducing.

He's also rather dumb and gullible. He takes the drink from Vil without even questioning it.

His connection with Vil is all "tell" and no "show." We only get Vil's perspective on the situation. While I love Vil and he's one of my favourites in the game, even I admit he's extremely biased. We never get a chance to learn anything about Neige from his own words. Vil and Neige never directly interact till the climax, despite Neige being the antagonist of that arc.

The same goes for his acting ability. We're told that he's an amazing actor, but are never shown any examples other than two commercials. Let's face it. Acting in a commercial is different than in a movie or tv show.

Honestly, the canon doesn't show us anything that proves that Neige is more talented than Vil in regards to acting and singing. If anything, it seems like the exact opposite. It comes across like Neige is coasting by on only his looks.

I'm 95% sure that Yana pulled that info about Neige right outta her ass after Rook's VA received death threats from the Japanese fandom. For one, all of that info came out AFTER this incident instead of being woven in organically into the previous book. None of it was even remotely hinted at in advanced nor makes any sense when you think about it more than a few seconds. It's so tacked on that I don't even consider it canon. (Seriously, why the hell wasn't Neige taken away by Child Protective Services if he was a minor living with seven other kids, who don't seem all there? What the hell happened to his parents?)

Any opportunity to give them a deeper connection is completely dodged by the narrative. Again, why aren't they stepbrothers? It would make them resemble the original story more and have Neige's backstory make far more sense.

At the end of the day, Neige is just a cardboard cutout for Vil to sneer at and that's it. Ironically, Neige's such an underdeveloped and boring character that Vil is better Snow White analog than him, despite technically being based on the Evil Queen. Both Vil and Snow White are adaptable, capable, stern, value hard work, and want to help out other become their best selves.

Honestly, it's a damn shame. Neige could've been an interesting and fun character, but that was all dodged in favour of lazy and shitty writing. Hopefully my take on his character with his new backstory will improve him a lot, including making Neige Vil's stepbrother.

[jasperakalucy]

hello, gamers, comrades, foes, freaks, losers, gay people, and cowboys,

welcome to the Best Answer Awards of the RTumblr Secret Santa 2022 Google Form!!!

no you don’t win anything and I’m not saying who said what. because this is my award show and I make the rules

Question 1: tumblr username: and the best answer is........... “jasperakalucy”! because I am based

Question 2: are you. interested in this: “no. i am just here to watch. do not give me a gift. i'm just filling out the quiz for fun” someone actually put this and i was so unbelieving that i forced them to join /hj

Question 3: how active are you on rtumblr/are you new (can pick multiple): “I did something of value once and never again. One day I will return and you will all regret forgetting me” mysterious! i love it!

Question 4: what kind of art can you do? (can pick multiple): “i can kill you over and over again in minecraft” that is an art and I’m so proud of you

Question 5: what do you plan on giving as your gift? (elaborate on above question): “Whatever the person desires. I cannot however: Make anybody fall in love, kill somebody, bring somebody back to life. I will most likely write or draw.” damn. poetic honorary mention: “The most important gift: friendship And a piece of carrot”

Question 6: do you have a c!self (can pick multiple): “girl help his face is my fucking pfp his look is straight up just 'onceler’” girl help indeed, why would you ever want to be like the onceler /hj

Question 7: if you answered yes then drop your c!self explanation (image upload at end): “It is literally just me as a rat with no roleplay or lore or anything, I hope this appeases the rumblr tumblrs (/pos)” the rumblr tumblrs joke is funny every time. i still think about the time i called RTgodot rumble tumble gumble

Question 8: what is. your gift prefernece (for your gifter to gift to you) (can pick multiple): a solid 50% of you told me i spelled prefernece wrong. i am still amused by this

9: what is your number 1 preference gift this one’s boring SKIP

10: elaborate on above (give as many details as you want. literally go buckwild) (this will be sent to your gifter): “I don’t have specific preferences I just think rt’s cool:) do whatever your heart commands of you, take artistic liberties, feel the rain on your skin” the person in number 5 and this one are the same brain and i love that for them honorary mentions: “[taps on microphone] magistrex” “Draw whatever you want. Just draw. Draw something. I would like a civet/dog. why isn't my four key working”

11: would you rather post all of this art or send it privately? BORING SKIP

12: STILL BORING

13: AAAAAAAAAA

14: questions comments concerns: “you people seem insane but that's okay, who *isnt* in the RT fandom. I'll draw anything exept from magical john in a maid outfit or a bunny costume. i hate that little freak of nature” the fact that your hatred of magical john came so quickly out of nowhere made me laugh. you’re right, he is a freak of nature honorary mention: “gay gay homosexual gay. can i call you jasper? or aka...i like aka. unless you don't like it.” yes you can call me aka that sounds rad as fuck

(also people were very nice to me in this question and i do appreciate that)

AND FINALLY THE FREE SPACE QUESTION

15: free space. copy and paste the bee movie for all i care: “i have a homophobic slur to say!” I have not stopped thinking about this since it happened. you sound so excited. you never said the slur. you just said you were going to, and then left it. why? i laughed out loud when i read this the first time. what the hell does it mean? is it the f slur? is it a fun new slur you made up? what the fuck! in my memory this had a “:D” next to it, and that’s how i read it in my head. I literally know your username. I’ve never talked to you. what is going on inside your head? i love you. you really have guts. in questions comments concerns you said “do it fart” and only now have i realized that was a question, and not a command, calling me a fart. thank you for giving me such joy and confusion. i will never forget this.

honorary mentions: two different copypastas that reference al-qaeda two different meows (“meow” and “nya”) two different people saying i should not encourage bee movie posting (cowards/lh) one “according to all known laws of aviation,” one secret code from the “schrodingers cat” who ended up dropping (“9 1/13 14/15/20 23/8/15 9 19/1/25 9 1/13”) some screams (“WAAHAHJHKKK EAWERRRRWW WWEEEEEE”) a funny joke (“[insert funny joke.mp4]”) and of course

magistrex magistrex magistrex magistrex magistrex magistrex magistrex magistrex magistrex magistrex magistrex magistrex magistrex magistrex magistrex magistrex magistrex magistrex magistrex magistrex magistrex magistrex magistrex magistrex magistrex magistrex magistrex magistrex magistrex magistrex magistrex magistrex magistrex magistrex magistrex magistrex magistrex magistrex magistrex magistrex magistrex magistrex magistrex magistrex magistrex magistrex magistrex magistrex magistrex magistrex magistrex magistrex magistrex magistrex magistrex magistrex magistrex magistrex magistrex magistrex magistrex magistrex magistrex magistrex magistrex magistrex magistrex magistrex magistrex magistrex magistrex magistrex magistrex magistrex magistrex magistrex magistrex magistrex magistrex magistrex magistrex magistrex magistrex magistrex magistrex magistrex magistrex magistrex magistrex magistrex magistrex magistrex magistrex magistrex magistrex magistrex magistrex magistrex magistrex magistrex 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[espresso-lessdepresso]

HEYYYYY GIRL!!!!! its me anon sofi after SO LONG, I’ve already finished my first semester so I just started winter vacations yeyy (bc here in Argentina is winter and super cold lmao) sososo I’m going to catch up with everything you’ve written and cheer you on. Let me tell this month was SO stressful, with finals and all, but thank god I got the best grades (your girl is smart, got a total of 9,5 this semester（＾ν＾) ). Still, im very tired BUT I got the best writer in the world in front of me who put out a fic while I was gone, which means I’m gonna get relaxed and read it cause I know it’s going to be the very best ever. Now lets stop talking about me and TELL ME ABOUT YOU!!!! How’s your day?? How are you?? What are you up to??? Have you listened to a new song or discovered a new artist??? Watched a good movie recently?? Tell me everything and anything. I’ll read allll of it, even if it’s 15k words, I’ll take my time and read every single letter. You’re amazing and it makes so happy seeing so content and energetic, you have no idea. Remember to take care of yourself, stay safe and ilysmmmmm. Sending you goodie vibes all the way from here to wherever you are (⌒▽⌒) ♡

Helloooo anon soffiiii ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝

This is going to be a bit of a long one~

 It has indeed been a very long time since we last talked!!! [though much to my fault I've not been good at answering at the moment] I hope your vacations go well and that you’ve got some fun plans for the winter [which I should add is the best season in my opinion]. I'm a big soup enjoyer so I hope you get some good soup in your system to keep you warm. 

I have not written much since my ‘return’ [if can even call it that], but I hope you enjoy it. There is a very late Valentine’s Day post with schlatt, a part two of the Charlie fic and two Ted headcanons [head canons, me doing hcs? crazy. maybe I might get into it].

Im assuming that the 9.5 is out of a whole marking of 10? I’m thoroughly impressed just have to say, you are indeed a very smart girl, especially in college since many [including me] are just trying to get by with passing grades. It’s nice to see when someone works hard and gets the fruit of their labour- you did amazing, proud of you dude ☆ദി ᷇ᵕ ᷆ )☆

As for me, I find myself still getting back into writing, like im walking up a steep hill to get back to where I used to be. I don’t know, I feel like I’m not writing the same as I used to but maybe that’s all in my head. Fun fact, I often read a lot before I write- sure I may only read horror, but it helps get the brain juices flowing. I’ve been pretty occupied with personal stuff and college and my brain not braining, which isn’t super fun to talk about so I’ll just skip that. Other than that, I’ve been playing quite a few games when I’m in the need to procrastinate. My goodness- I’ve had sessions where I play for 8-ish hours straight of Terraria or Stardew Valley. It’s not the healthiest, I know, my discord buddies have given me earfuls and many scolding as if I were a little child because of this (ᐡ ᐧ ﻌ ᐧ ᐡ) But in my defence, it’s so easy for me to play for hours because I have some Jaiden or Schlatt vod playing on another screen so the vibes of that gaming sessions are immaculate. I sit on the chair with my little blanket, water and a snack, one earphone playing the game sounds and the other is playing the vod, the lights are dim and everything is so cozy. 

Oh, I’ve also been drinking these days. I never thought of touching alcohol in my entire life but here I am. I’ve been occasionally drinking some whiskey, which is considered a big boy drink for someone like me, a noob. But that is the only alcohol I can get my hands on. My mother does not know of my drinking and is promptly against it so I have been very careful with how much I drink. I do not condone drinking btw. I simply feel very silly when I do. Here is a little breakdown of how drinking affects me. When I’m two shots in, I start feeling it pretty quick. I drink between 5 to 10 shots and the way it affects me is by giving me a debuff of movement accuracy. Being a very articulate person, I have not been slurring when drunk. But I am walking a little silly lol, and swaying a little. Does this make me a lightweight? I have no frame of reference. But yeah, I think that was the most interesting and/or significant thing I’ve done.

It's always a pleasure hearing from you, our interactions are nothing less than sweet and its always welcomed. I hope you enjoy your vacation. Remember to take care of yourself and stay safe as well! Sending all the good vibes back to you ♡♡♡ ٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و ♡♡♡



[This is an answer to an old ask, written 8th April ( ˊᵕˋ ; ) I did not send it back then bc my brain was, unfortunately, giving me a hard time] 

I hope you're doing well. I read your post asks (which was so so long ago im so sorry) and I hope you've found a new apartment. Since you mentioned Argentina's summer being so suffocatingly hot, you should be drinking ample amounts of water throughout the day. Where I live, it gets ridiculously dry and hot during the summer, so I keep quite a few bottles of water near my desk. Being in college myself, third year for me, trying to stay on top of all my classes is difficult but so rewarding at the same time. Almost too many people have said this but it's true, time management is everything. And of course, giving yourself breaks is important as well to not burn yourself out. You have truly been so sweet to me, even when I have failed to write and post anything for months, so I thank you very much. It is hard to come by such kindness on the internet.

[mariautistic]

Anyways uh. There's probably a bunch of endgame shit I've missed and. The Alan Wake part of the game that i guess i have to go play. So i wouldn't considered it "over" but the main story is uh. A little lacking tbh. It's very straightforward despite how much they invest on it being a mystery/horror/thriller and doesn't particularly care to invest in any character? I guess Jesse is there but she's so Nothing despite them constantly trying to tell you she's weird and Dylan. But the story doesn't rly do much for their relationship at All and overall the character writing is just not there. And the themes it has going on are really lacking or rarely end up anywhere interesting. I feel if you're gonna make a game about how the one thought you think is interesting is about how little we actually know of the world then like. I don't know do something with that? The "life is a prison with a poster on it" is more about how in the universe there's so much Shit that you just never know and people are just content with their poster and not just that life sucks but at least make Jesse an actively interested person in the supernatural then??? Instead of being annoyed every time she learns something new.

The combat has a lot of variation depending on which skills you find and level but i honestly just leveled upmy hp and telekinesis and had almost no trouble finishing the game right up to the end game. It's a shame how many weapon variations they give you only to let you just gloss over them, but i don't particularly cry over it because I hate shooters.

The ambience is very impecable and really like how scared i am of every new area despite never having struggled with fights particularly. Also an addendum to my complains about the combat is that the AI is particularly bad at doing its job and you rarely get hit if you just run in one straight direction. The only enemies i struggled much against where those floaty guys with shields bc i couldn't spam telekinesis but then I found out you actually CAN but you just gotta repeatedly throw things until they can't dodge them. So there's that.

I liked a lot the things you find around the place i think it's really funny seeing the daily complaints between departments and how toxic of a work environment it is, but after a certain point i was just inundated with the content and it felt like a chore rather than fun addendums to read. Specially the board/landline calls where i just had to watch the whole thing and couldn't just skip through some of the dialogue -_-

The level up system is just kind of bad for a lot of reasons, mainly that i just think it's stupid that i could do what i did and simply level HP and telekinesis and skip through most of the game without much struggling, and the fact the items you get are rarely relevant unless you want to level up the guns much and the in game money system is just. Ever used and there's not much punishment for dying and losing 10% of your whatever the hell if you have more than you can spend at any point in the game

The graphics are both really good in the building portion and the monsters have fun designs. However the animations leave a lot to be desired and wanting to go for an impressive realism always carries the cost that it might look stupid. Also Jesus Christ they need help from a cinema guy the shots in this game are fucking awful every cinematic where they focus on anything makes me feel crazy. The overdone close shots every time Jesse has an inner thought or the shot to shot back and forth between Jesse and whoever she's talking to is so bad i feel like if you want it to be ~cinematic~ you actually have to know about movies. At all. Literally just hire an annoying film guy to ask him what he thinks of the talking portions. Anything.

All of this to say that it's a bit of a lackluster game that tried to do a very big concept and to be fair. They did a lot of justice to it and it was fun to play despite all of this I'm complaining about. I still think that it's not a very good game for a lot lot lot of reasons but i would be lying if i didn't see the amount of effort put into it and how much i enjoyed the things it did well so i have a hard time writing it off as subpar or anything like that

[icantcountthereasonsishouldstay]

73!

Born This Way by Lady Gaga (an excellent choice if I do say so myself)

It's Greendale's first official Pride Event, and everything is going great!

Annie is planning everything, of course, but what she wasn't planning on was finding her own queer identity. She had been so busy (and kind of a loser) in high school and during rehab she had other more important problems. But now she was finding herself and growing into the person she felt she was meant to be, and when she saw the bi pride pins in one of the boxes she was unloading, she couldn't help but stare at them. Something about them just felt right, like it was her. She grabs one for herself but doesn't wear it. She's not quite ready to embrace it yet, but someday, she thinks she will be.

Troy loves Abed. He knows it, Abed knows it, everyone knows it. They're best friends. And that's why Troy doesn't want to say anything about being in love with him. It's not that Troy is ashamed of it. He'd embraced his bisexuality years ago, even if he'd didn't always tell people about it. No, he was more worried about ruining his friendship with Abed. They have something great, and friends to lovers never works in real life, only in the movies. So, he decides to stay quiet. At least, until he sees someone flirting with Abed at the Pride Event and realizes he'll regret it forever if he doesn't at least tell Abed about his feelings. What's the worst that could happen?

Abed knows Troy has feelings for him. Abed also has feelings for Troy. It's super obvious, but Abed can't figure out why Troy hasn't told him yet. There must be a reason, but Abed doesn't want to push Troy into saying anything before he's ready. As much as Abed would like to be with Troy, Abed is more than happy with their friendship. As much as Abed would appreciate being part of the friends to lovers trope, he knows life isn't the movies. Still, he wishes it could be.

Frankie hates pride events. Well, actually, that's not entirely true. She understands why they're necessary, but she hates the fact that they're needed. She resents that she can't just find a woman to date without it automatically being A Thing. She just wants to live her life, in private, without being bothered. Which makes her feelings for Britta inconvenient, in more ways than one. Frankie is pretty sure Britta is straight, and even if she weren't, Britta is loud and in everyone's business. Not hers though. For some reason, Britta has always respected her boundaries. As she watches Britta dance at the Pride Event the Dean required her to be at, her heart skips a beat. A "crush" is such a childish concept but unfortunately accurate in this situation. She has a crush on Britta, and she doesn't know what to do.

Britta is confused. She's not homophobic, actually, she's proud to be an ally, but she's straight. Right? If she weren't, kissing Paige would have been no big deal, right? So, she had to be straight and was fine with that. Until Frankie came along. Frankie was no-nonsense, all business, and never shared anything about her personal life, but Britta could not stop thinking about her. And maybe, if Britta was really honest with herself, she wanted to kiss her. And hold her hand. And be near her constantly. And of course Frankie is at this stupid Pride Dance the Dean has set up, looking incredible. Britta decides that instead of thinking about Frankie, she's going to drink and have fun with her friends as a distraction. And it works, until she sees that bitch Slater giggling with Frankie. First Jeff, and then Frankie? Sober Britta might have assumed it was just two colleagues talking, but drunk Britta took it as an intentional slight by Slater. So, she decides to go over there and give Slater a piece of her mind.

Aside from Britta cursing out Professor Slater (seriously, let the feud die already), the Dean considered the Pride Event to be a wild success! The Dean would take the secret to his grave, but he saw Annie sneak the pin. It had been nice to see Annie grow and accept herself over her time at Greendale, and this was another good step. Troy and Abed were official now, and they had recreated several romcom scenes across campus. Honestly, the Dean was surprised it had taken them this long. And even some good had come from Britta drunkenly yelling at Slater. Britta had, more or less, confessed she had feelings for Frankie, and while Frankie didn't confirm she felt the same, she did offer to take Britta home, which she wouldn't do for just anyone.

Even though pretty much everyone else mocked Greendale, the Dean was proud of his school. Tonight had truly shown no matter gay, straight, or bi, lesbian, or transgender life, everyone had a place at Greendale.

Send me a number 1-100 and I’ll tell you which song you get AND what fic I’d write based on its vibes

[moony-ghoul]

0, 15, 19, 21, 44 <3

(any i skip is just cause i’ve already answered)

15. fav movie

i watched ‘the menu’ a few months back and it instantly made its way to the top of my fav psychological horror list the chef was created to be someone who doesn’t look or sound ‘scary’ straight away but the audience watched as he manipulates ppl in a way that is terrifying he has (or thinks he does at least) full control of everything and sees the guests as nothing more than puppets (slight spoiler ahead) he is built up to look as tho he is this evil god but it’s his heart and empathy that get the better of him in the end he is evil but he’s still human and i think that was captured amazingly

19. A fact about your personality

idk really how to answer this ig a fun fact about me? uh i’ve lived in 8 different houses in 4 different states and 2 different countries so if i live in one place for too long i get restless

44. a random fact about anything

manta rays are filter feeders so divers used to think that when they swam through the bubbles caused from their breathing they got the bubbles confused w plankton but then they noticed that the rays never opened their mouths SO MANTA RAYS JUST LIKE PLAYING IN BUBBLES (this is one of my favourite facts)

[steviebears]

Love Me Part 2

PART 1

SUMMARY: After Eddie leaves you for someone else, he realizes he only ever loved you and wants you back.

GENRE: angst

a/n: the highly anticipated part 2 is here! I know a lot of you had all sorts of good ideas for part 2 but I decided to go on my own route with it. I hope you enjoy!

It's still taking you a lot of time to try to get over Eddie. You at least had stopped breaking down at school after seeing him in the hallway. Those days are the hardest. Even if you never really saw him with Chrissy, it didn't matter. Seeing your love without you is painful on its own. Having to suppress the urge to go up and talk to him like nothing had changed, to kiss him just one more time, was excruciating.

You found some new friends. Friends that weren't connected to Eddie. You'd started watching lots of movies at home so you routinely visited the family video store. Steve and Robin were so fun. They were lighthearted, never took anything too seriously. That is except for Steve's attitude toward Eddie.

When you explained why you were spending so much time alone at home watching movies Steve was ready to beat Eddie's ass. You and Robin calmed him down, but he still held a lot of resentment for Eddie. He couldn't believe someone could break the heart of someone as sweet as you. A catch like you.

Eddie eventually asked out Chrissy, but she said no because of her boyfriend, Jason. She became distant after that, not meeting Eddie anymore. Time away from her had Eddie getting ahold of his true feelings.

Guilt. He felt overwhelming amounts of it. He kept replaying the look on your face when he told you, the sound of your voice, the shakiness of your hands. He remembered how you didn't show up to school for a week. He thought about what you were feeling, what kind of heartbreak he inflicted on you. He started to feel bad, truly.

His attraction to Chrissy dissipated and all he was left with was his love for you. He missed skipping first period to go out to breakfast with you. He missed driving you home and he missed the kiss you'd give him at your door. He missed your enthusiasm during the D&D campaigns, and the boys missed you too. In fact, they gave Eddie an earful for losing you. He missed you at his shows especially. He missed you letting loose and head banging just to support him.

He knew he'd made a huge mistake.

He decided to go to your house and see if you were there because he couldn't handle seeing you in school and not talking to you anymore. He wanted to hear that precious voice of yours.

He knocked and nervously waited until the door opened, you instantly looking surprised to see him at your doorstep.

"Eddie?" He opens his mouth to say something but he can't find the words, so his mouth just stays slightly agape. Finally though, he gets there.

"Can I come in?" He missed seeing you up close like this.

"I guess..." You step aside to let him in.

"What's this about? And keep it brief because I'm expecting Steve." You say with your arms crossed.

"Steve? I thought you hated guys like that." You keep a straight face.

"I guess I've changed then."

"Listen, Y/n. I know when we lasted talked I was saying stuff about Chrissy and us and I just- I don't actually feel that way. Anymore." You hated hearing his honey-like voice. It hurt. You were confused. He waits for you to say something but the words never come. So he continues,

"I miss you, Y/n. A lot. I'm bad with words- you know that- but I'm just..." Your frustration bubbles and your eyes start to well at his confession.

"I'm just so sorry." A tear finally falls.

"Baby, please don't cry I hate when you do that." He says, taking a step toward and laying a hand on your shoulder. You shrug it off and step back.

"You didn't seem to hate it so much when you told me about Chrissy." You whisper and sniffle. He doesn't know what to say. He did hate it, but why didn't he say anything then?

"You hurt me, Eddie. You can't just expect me to fall back into your arms because you miss me." Your voice gets more confident and loud with each word you say.

"I love you." You make a genuine frown and look away.

"Not enough." The words seemed to hurt your mouth as you spoke. How could he tell you he loves you after having left you for someone else? It was infuriating.

"Let me show you. I'll love you harder, just give me a cha-"

"No! I am not giving you the opportunity to hurt me like that again. I cant even look at you, Eddie." You start to break, all your frustration started to come out. The doorknob starts to turn and Steve enters your house. The second he sees Eddie and your tear stained face, his anger was visible. He felt the thick tension in the room.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Steve approaches Eddie.

"I-" You bite your nail and the tears begin to rush out faster.

"Get the fuck out. Now." Steve spits, shoving Eddie toward the door. Eddie leaves and you fall into Steve's arms, he holds you tight as you sob into his shoulder. You miss Eddie, but he hurt you too bad.

tagging: @boundtomyfate @letmebeyoureuphoria @pineapplechuncks @simonsbluee @lokiswh0reeee @frogtits1

I'm sorry its not a happy ending 😭😭

[frracturedjaw]

Heyoo idk if reqs are open but..

I haven't seen anyone do anything for Thomas(2003) when his arm got chopped off in the movie. Maybe the reader seeing the injury and fussing over him ?

convalescence (thomas hewitt + reader)

summary: you look after tommy through a rough recovery

warning(s): BLOOD, mild-moderate body horror, mention of infection and illness

an: the song reader’s singing is reaching for the moon by Ella Fitzgerald. also fun fact, i first saw the 2003 version on vhs :)

Luda Mae wouldn’t let you touch him. He’d stumbled through the front door and whacked the bleeding stump on its frame by mistake, wailing hoarsely. even as she bore his weight up the staircase, blood soaking down her dress, her teeth were bared at you.

“don’t you lay a finger on him.” she’d hissed. the agonizing noises Thomas made were making it hard to stand idle, but you held your tongue. no matter how much you loved Tommy, he was still her baby boy first. once she’d all but dragged him into the bathroom, you found yourself alone. the stairs dripped. the smear of his blood on the doorframe already turning sticky. it was that hungry kind of quiet that doesn’t let you sit still. so, you grabbed an armful of rags and the jug of peroxide from the kitchen and set to scrubbing. it was the only thing to keep you from breaking, sitting there and listening to him howl in agony.

that had been a little less than a week ago. that girl — Erin, you think her name was — had skipped town with that hitchhiker’s baby in Hoyt’s car. Luda Mae had done what she could to clean up his shoulder. Monty wouldn’t shut his mouth for the first few days, until she set him straight with a cast iron pan. Hoyt was barely in the house at all, spending most of his time out scavenging for a new vehicle. as much as she wanted to be by his side, the world didn’t stop turning. Luda Mae had work to do. that left you to watch over Tommy.

he was near unresponsive for the most part. fever wracked his whole body and the stump was a different sickening color every time you went to change his dressings. he’d hum lowly whenever you wiped his body clean with a cool cloth, maybe his way of saying thanks, maybe just unconscious relief. you were hardly sure he was awake half the time.

but you sing to him. there weren’t a lot of records in the house — nobody really had the time for that kind of thing — but you made do. pulled a few off the dusty hall shelf, plucked some more out of the pile of abandoned luggage out back. most of them were warped to the point of being unplayable from the heat, but a few good ones survived.

the moon and you, appear to be

so near and yet, so far from me

you try to lower your voice to a croon, but you’re tired. so, so tired. you’re not sure you’ve slept in the days since.

and here am i, on a night in June,

reaching for the moon and you

i wonder if we’ll ever meet,

my song of love is incomplete

it’s fucking corny. you know this. you know. but your voice breaks. your own sharp inhale takes you by surprise. you hiccup. you hold your breath, hoping the overwhelm will go away.

i’m just the words, looking for the tune

reaching for the moon and you.

heat is swarming behind your eyes. this is stupid. you shouldn’t be the one crying, with your two arms by your sides. not while he sweats and aches and whines in his sleep.

scooting in from your perch at the edge of the bed, you lay beside him. it’s unnatural, him flat on his back, the space between you. somehow, he senses this. somehow. his fingers curl, and he swats weakly at the space beside him. the dip in the mattress where you’d usually be. his hand, clammy and visibly shaking now, finds your leg and grips it, pulling. you slide down closer to him. the record player crackles. it’s only when you drape his arm around your shoulders and press your head to his chest that he seems satisfied. his breaths slow, lengthen. you can hear the rhythmic thud of his heart. he’s alive. he’s alive.

[crazycookiecrumbles]

How Parker Met Stark (2)

Masterlist

Pairings/Characters: Peter Parker x Stark!Reader (Andrew Garfield’s Peter)

Warnings: Swearing, graphic depictions of violence, end fluff

A/N: COMMENTS/REBLOGS APPRECIATED/ENCOURAGED: Because, honestly, I don’t know if anyone likes it otherwise so I can continue or not.

Summary:  Yet another prequel to my Hard Enough one-shot, and the third installation of my Crumble!Verse work: 

You just couldn’t get enough of Peter Parker. Once wasn’t enough, and now you were determined to see him once again. Unfortunately, it seems like someone else might get in the way of that.

This is definitely post-college, adult Spider-Man

“Well, if it isn’t Peter Parker.”

Peter’s eyebrows flew up to his hairline. He did not expect to hear that voice again, especially not so soon after hearing it for the first time in-person. He slowly stood up straight, no longer leaning over and into the shelves in the supermarket to get the last tub of cream cheese. He spun around and spotted you standing there with a little smirk on your face as you studied him.

Peter smiled a little nervously, “Ms. Stark! It’s nice to see you again.”

“Please, it’s just Y/N.” You smiled and glanced down to see the cream cheese clutched tightly in his hands before looking back up at his adorable face. “I saw those pictures in the newspaper, Parker. Very nice.”

“Well, you did say to make sure I gave them a good picture. Lucky for me, I had a very photogenic subject. They were all great.”

Your cheeks burned as you saw Peter blush a little upon realizing he was, in fact, actually flirting and seemed to not have blown it so far. You nodded your head and took a step closer to Peter, watching as he stepped backwards, his backpack pressing against the display and brushing into a few containers of butter and knocking over a few. You chuckled at him.

Peter gazed at you, “How did you know where I was?”

“I’m very, very good at getting information, Parker,” you told him. “And I actually was looking for you.”

“What? For me? Why?” Peter balked. “I—I—uh, sorry. I’m just confused here.”

You smiled brightly, “I wanted to see you again.”

“I’m still confused as to why.”

“You’re cute,” you told Peter who turned red and seemed to be absolutely giddy and vibrating with delight. “I’m going to a premiere tonight. Small indie movie, but an old friend of mine wrote it so I want to go support her, get a little tipsy, listen to all these artsy, bullshit snobs act like anything they say matters. Are you interested?”

Peter cringed instantly. It wasn’t that he didn’t feel like going. He absolutely was keen on spending another night in your presence. After all, you were witty, a little dark, but you oozed charm, and he was a complete sucker for it. Unfortunately for him, and perhaps you, he had plans that night. See, the 3rd Avenue Boys were planning a robbery. He’d been staking them out for some time and learned that they were going to hit one of the jewelry stores near the Roxy. As much as he craved more attention from you, he couldn’t put innocent people at risk.

“Ah, that face told me all I needed,” you laughed a little nervously, embarrassed to have gotten such a reaction from him. Before you could turn around and just quietly make your escape, Peter reached out and gently grabbed your wrist, prompting you to stop turning to leave and face him.

“I’m sorry,” he began. “I would love to, truly, but I have work to do tonight. The lab I’m working at is close to a breakthrough, so…”

It was the way that his heart skipped a beat ever so slightly that made you feel like he was lying. You believed him, too. You believed Peter up until he said that they were close to a breakthrough. That was when his heart skipped a beat, and that’s when you could feel that he was lying.

You offered him a tight smile as you pulled your wrist away and shoved your hands into your pockets, “My bad, Parker. I think I misinterpreted some things. Have fun at work.”

You spun on your heel and away from him as fast as you could and ignored the stares from Peter, and two men who had been secretly watching you both from the ice cream section, listening in intently on your conversation without you or Peter ever realizing it. The two men shared a look and nodded before one took out their cell phone as the other grabbed their stuff and started to leave.

Meanwhile, Peter groaned and let his head fall back to hit the top of the shelves, “Stupid, stupid Peter,” he mumbled to himself. “How did I mess that up? Oh, right, because I’m an idiot who forgets she can feel vibrations. Damn it. Way to go, Parker.”

~*~

At your friend’s film premiere, you were giving yourself some time to be pathetic. You really thought you had a spark with Peter. You didn’t think the man was going to lie about his whereabouts and what he was doing just to not have to go out with you. Fuck, I mean, why couldn’t he just say something to you along the lines of him not being interested? A flat-out ‘no’ would’ve been better than the lie that he came up with.

Ugh, men. They were a plague.

You downed the shot and pushed the glass across the bar in a silent indication that you wanted another. Tony offered to go with you to make the event a little more ‘fun’ but you did not want to hang out with your dad that night. You didn’t want a girl’s night with Natasha and Wanda, and you certainly didn’t want two overbearing super soldiers and lovely ol’ Sam to join you and act overprotective of your feelings the entire night. 

You really just wanted to disappear into the alcohol and the movie.

Which, at the rate you were drinking, you hoped you were going to be able to remember it. The movie had been delayed an hour so far because one of the ‘stars’ wasn’t there for the Q&A. Your friend was panicking and running around every which way possible. You attempted to offer your services in any way you could, but she wanted to handle it herself.

So, here you were, all dressed up and alone and not even a movie to get lost in.

Meanwhile….

Peter was dressed up in a suit of his own. Of course, his was red and blue and somehow more formfitting than your clinging outfit choice for the night. He swung and landed off the side of a building, his eyes darting down to watch the van he had been tailing for some time now.

“Why are they all the way up here on Sixth Avenue?” Peter muttered to himself as he watched them drive for a bit before leaping off and swinging once again. “This wasn’t the plan.”

It wasn’t! They had gone past every single jewelry store in the area and hadn’t stopped. What were they doing, looking for a good parking spot? There were a few alleyways they could have ducked into. This was so strange.

And, ugh, you were right there. Peter could see the glowing lights of the Roxy. He could see the setup for photographs outside, the small red carpet, the foot traffic in the area for the small premiere that night. You were so close to him, and yet so far away, because he could do absolutely nothing in the moment to get rid of that disappointed look that was burned into his mind when he rejected your offer to go out tonight.

In fact, Peter was so lost thinking about you, he momentarily lost sight of the gang. He floundered for a moment as he was web-swinging around to find their vehicle. Eventually, he did find it. It was parked in an alleyway, as he predicted it should be, right by the back entrance to the Roxy Cinema—oh, oh no…

They must have somehow learned about the premiere and the type of people that were going to be there and decided that live targets were going to be more fruitful than hitting up a jewelry store that probably locked everything away as a precaution anyway. 

Peter landed on the roof of the building softly and looked around for the best entrance. He needed to get in quickly, quietly, and without alerting anyone that he was there. The last thing he wanted was for them to take hostages, or, worse, start shooting in fear and risk you being hurt before he could even step into the fight.

Although, you were a pretty god-like Avenger. You should be fine, right?

~*~

You were so not fine. Well, at least not fine enough to be trusted to use your powers without accidentally collapsing a building. You slammed your hand into the container of popcorn, shoved a few kernels in your mouth, and chased it with a cocktail before excusing yourself from the less-than-riveting conversation you were dragged into by a few people who recognized you.

You made your way to the restroom to freshen up and take care of yourself. Looking in the mirror afterwards, you shook your head and sighed. Men. You dumped one at a party, thought you met a new, nice one that very night, only to be lied to in a supermarket. Honestly, what the hell? This was utterly disappointing. Why the hell would your father go through so many women back to back — oh, right, he was a black hole of emotion for awhile.

Well, there’s that.

You left the restroom and could faintly hear shouting and orders being given. Finally, the star must have arrived and the night was going to proceed as promised, right?

However, when you left the hall and entered the main room, you could see several men with guns out. One was walking around with a collection bag, and you could see another one was separating some of the wealthier attendees away from the rest, likely trying to extort them for more money.

But then you saw the zip ties come out for that group, and you knew that this was going to go downhill incredibly fast.

Then there was you, drunk as a skunk standing there wide-eyed and knowing you were in no condition to be fighting. It wasn’t like you had the element of surprise, either. Your heel slammed into the ground when you skidded to a stop and made the most obnoxiously loud clicking noise. You were the new center of attention as everyone turned to you.

“Hey, Checkers was right, Y/N Stark is here,” one of them leered as he aimed a gun at you and started to walk towards you.

“Hey,” you swallowed back the urge to belch loudly. “I’m an Avenger! You don’t want to do this, man.”

“Actually, I think we do,” he placed his finger over the trigger and aimed at you. “Take off that nice jewelry, Ms. Stark, and get over there with the rest of ‘em.”

“I’ve got a better plan,” you hiccuped and clasped your hands together. “Why don’t we let everyone go, and I don’t snap your spine in half.”

He fired a warning shot at you. Your hand flew up to stop the bullet in its path, but in your inebriated state, you were just too slow. The bullet skimmed your shoulder causing you to hiss in pain. The shot, plus your current state, kept you at a disadvantage. Rather than stopping the bullet, you accidentally blew back one of the other victims into a column and knocked them out cold. You cringed at what you accidentally did while the gang roared with laughter.

“God, this really is like taking candy from a baby,” he laughed and switched how he was holding the gun as he marched towards you. He swung it into his hand so he was holding it like a bat. You stepped backwards to make some space and try to figure out just how coordinated you were at the moment and the best way for you to fight back. 

Just as he got closer and wound back to take a swing, something jumped in front of you. You jumped backwards in alarm. Your hands were already up to try to catch the gun, but it never came to that. You stumbled backwards as your eyes stared into a back clad in red and blue. Glancing up a little more, you saw the back of Spider-Man’s head as his hand grabbed the gun and squeezed, the gun snapping in two in his hand.

“Well, that’s just no way to treat a lady, right?”

“Sp-sp-Spider-Man’s here!” He shouted.

“I know who I am, no need to yell!” Spider-Man quickly pulled him forward and tossed him far to the left and webbed him to a wall. He looked around at the rest of the gang. “So, do you guys feel like dancing or…? How do we want to do this, fellas?”

They all opened fire immediately. Without even turning, one arm reached back and pulled you into him just before leaping into the air and avoiding the gunfire. He shot a web and used it to pull the two of towards a spiral staircase. When you two landed, he stayed low and kept you law as well as he ran until you were able to hide behind the railing.

“Why don’t you stay here and get your bearings, Ms. Stark. I’ve got this.”

Within a second he was up and jumping over the railing. You listened to gunfire and people screaming. Slowly, with Tony’s inability to listen to anyone pulsing strong within you, you ignored Spider-Man’s suggestion and peaked over the barrier to see what was going on.

The attendees were all running and rushing out the building while Spider-Man was fighting. He was webbing their guns up so they couldn’t fight anymore, and he was taking them out so easily. A punch here, a dropkick there. It was like watching an interpretive dance as he had the entire gang webbed up and incapacitated.

“Didn’t even break a sweat. You guys are getting slow,” he chuckled as he dusted his hands off and quickly glanced up. He could see you peaking over the railing before you had a chance to duck. When you did duck, he smiled to himself and leapt into the air. 

By the time you had turned around, back pressed against the railing, Spider-Man was standing in front of you. You looked ahead to see a gloved hand reach down to you. Carefully, you took his hand and let him pull you up to your feet. You exhaled slowly as you backed against the barrier again and slowly examined him.

For as many years as Spider-Man has been around, you two had never actually crossed paths. The types of things you both did for your superhero antics was just too different. He stayed close to the streets, his ear to the ground as he saved the everyday citizens of the city. You, however, did things that were a little more global or had a taste of aliens sneaking around. Your worlds just never really collided until now.

Standing before him, looking up at his mask as he tilted his head to the side and studied you, you could see how scary he was. The deafening silence of Spider-Man just staring at you would send a chill down your spine. He was clearly very strong, and fast, and when he wasn’t running his mouth with little jokes, he was incredibly intimidating.

And yet, this hero seemed to be soft as well as he reached out and carefully grasped your chin. He seemed to do a quick once-over of you for any other injuries before letting go and letting his hand drop to his side. Spider-Man cleared his throat, “Why don’t I take you home, Ms. Stark, so you can get that shoulder cleaned up?”

You exhaled slowly. The sudden jumping around wasn’t sitting well with you, and you couldn’t lie, your shoulder definitely stung, “You know who I am.”

“How could anyone not?” He replied. “The ethereal Y/N Stark, you’re kind of legendary. Can’t say I’ve ever seen you drunk in public, though, I thought that was a Tony Stark thing.”

“Bad day, Spider-Man,” you huffed, not noticing how his shoulders sunk. “I should go —“

“Let me —“

“It’s fine —“

“You want to go out where all those people are waiting to see the drunken avenger who accidentally knocked someone out?” he questioned. “Come on, let me spare you. I think the shoulder’s enough for tonight, isn’t it?”

You thought about it for a moment before nodding reluctantly, “Do you even know where to go?”

“I figured the giant tower that used to have your last name on it was a start.”

“Okay. Fair point,” you mumbled in agreement.

He snuck the two of you outside onto a fire escape. He turned around and glanced at your shoulder first. He webbed the injury to keep anything from getting into it, then he turned around and crouched down as he offered you his back. Before you could even climb on, he suddenly spun around and was scratching the back of his head as he faced you.

“Actually, given your gunshot wound I think you should put less strain on your arm for now.”

“Uh, okay — “

“So, here,” he cleared his throat and put an arm around your waist. He put your undamaged arm around his shoulder. He exhaled deeply, for reasons you were unsure of, before he continued, “you can, um, put your legs around my waist if you want, you know, more support. But you don’t have to, I’ve got you, but, you know, optional. Heights are, uh, big.”

The poor man was screaming at himself internally for sounding like such an absolute moron with you once again.

“I feel that, maybe, I shouldn’t be drunk and risk accidentally flashing someone my vagina while we’re swinging around,” you explained. “I can see the headlines now, bare starkussy on spider-waist.”

He had no idea if this was a sober or a drunk thought, but he thought he could die with the imagery.

“Also, I just didn’t wear underwear with this dress. That’s TMI, sorry, but, yeah, probably unsanitary. Who knows where you’ve been.”

Okay. He was going ot have a heart attack.

“Good to know,” his voice cracked and he mumbled for you to hang on as he jumped off the fire escape and began to swing from Lower Manhattan back up to Midtown to take you home.

You shut your eyes tightly when you were nearly at the tower. He ran across the top of one building and jumped off the side of it. You were free-falling together before he shot a web near the top of the tower and as he was falling, he started to swing and propelled the two of you up to the landing. You didn’t move until he whispered that you were home, his hands resting on your waist to keep you steady as you slowly adjusted to being on solid ground once again.

You opened your eyes and looked up to his masked face. You stared up at him for an uncomfortably long time before shaking out of your daze.

“Sorry,” you apologized, your hand sliding from around his shoulders and neck down to his chest. It was hard as a rock, and when you once again realized you were being kind of weird with him, you quickly retracted your hand and uttered another apology. “Thanks for the save, Spider-Man.”

“My pleasure, Ms. Stark,” he murmured “Maybe I’ll see you around sometime.”

“I hope so,” you replied.

The two of you turned for different reasons. You could feel vibrations rushing towards the deck, and he could hear frantic voices. You both could just start to see Tony and Steve talking, or shouting, at each other as they approached.

“Goodnight, Ms. Stark,” he bowed his head and walked backwards until spinning around and diving off the side of the building.

“Oh, thank god I don’t have to hold this in anymore,” you rushed out quickly before keeling over and vomiting everything you ingested at the party.

By the time you were done vomiting, you were standing upright and wiping your mouth with the back of your hand just as Tony and Steve surrounded you.

“Now, I am so proud of you for pulling a, well, a me,” Tony explained. “But Cap’s a little worried. I’m not, not at all. Is that a gunshot wound?”

“Right. You weren’t worried at all,” Steve rolled his eyes. “Come on. Let’s get you inside. Someone should try to get a way to contact Spider-Man, say thanks —“

“Seems like spawn wants to give her thanks,” Tony remarked under his breath.”

“Shut up, dad,” you groaned. “I need water. And a bed. And a bucket. Also, maybe some food.”

“Ah, that’s my girl,” Tony squeezed your shoulder and kept his arm around you as the three of you got inside.

At least the night went by successfully. You had successfully pushed your troubles behind you. Peter Parker who? Spider-Man was just so much more enticing right now.