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ssentimentals · 1 year

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seventeen members as their natal charts: mingyu

sun in aries, moon in pisces

this man appears dominant and powerful, but in reality is very sensitive and anxious; likes to daydream, is competitive and passionate, he's actually very thoughtful towards other people, very creative and enthusiastic, struggles with making decisions, is fun to be around, likes to tease and 'spice up' relationships

you stare down at your boyfriend, unimpressed. 'you do realize it's not fair, right?'

mingyu grins widely in response. 'so you're backing out from a challenge?'

somehow mingyu always finds ways to rile you up; his competitiveness gets better of him most of the times and his imagination knows no limits. therefore, you always get stuck in hilariously dumb bets like this one and despite all your grumbling, you always give in. 'bring it on, mister.'

it's always fun with mingyu: he never fails to turn something mundane into an interesting quest, his enthusiasm is contagious and he shares his passion and energy easily with others. even right now, despite being tired and hungry after classes, you still indulge him in a stupid basketball bet, when you don't even know how to play basketball. mingyu rushes past you with a ball and you groan loudly, hearing his manic laughter. 'this is not fair!'

'don't be a sore loser, babe! or am i dating a quitter?'

'fucker,' you mutter, glaring at him with no heat behind it. mingyu looks so handsome, when he gets like this - all smug and confident that for few seconds you simply stare, enjoying the view. he looks so confident, too confident that you can't wait to wipe this smirk off his face. an idea pops in your mind and you grin, beckoning him to come closer. 'i just need to get the ball from you to win, right?'

sensing that you plotted something, mingyu smirks, nodding. he holds the ball securely in his arms, walking towards you like he owns this place, licking his lower lip as he gives you a once over. 'yes?'

'baby,' you call, dropping your voice lower, smirking at the instant effect it has on him. 'you are too good at basketball.' mingyu takes one more step towards you and you let your hands brush over his chest, enjoying tight muscles undereath his t-shirt. 'how is it any fair?'

mingyu know exactly what you are doing, but he can't stop it, too engrossed in the feeling of your hands on him. this time it's you who takes one more step, standing now so close that he can feel your soft breath on his neck. 'flattery will get you nowhere, princess.'

'but it's true, you are very good at basketball,' you argue, looking up at him. 'just like at everything else.'

fuck. this push and pull is enticing, mingyu is laser focused on your lips, not even noticing how he slightly leans in. not noticing how your eyes gleam with triumph, when you add: 'give me a kiss.'

mingyu can never say 'no' to this demand and his lips are instantly on yours, groaning softly at the way you taste. kissing you is his favorite thing, he gets lost immediately and that's why when you push him back and run away, it takes him a minute to realize what is happening. he watches in slow motion as you throw the ball - the one that was in his hands before he kissed you, the one you so easily snatched from him, goddammit - and his mouth opens in shock as it gets into the net, making you scream loudly in glee. you turn, smirk at him and oh, he's in love. 'i won!' you shout and he only laughs in disbelief. 'i won, i won!'

'did someone say something about fairness?' he questions loudly.

'don't be a sore loser, babe! or am i dating a quitter?' you throw back at him, winking.

mingyu inhales sharply, not being able to fight off wide grin from his face. he loves it when you play along, when you are ready to compete with him his adrenaline spikes up and heart starts beating faster. you are his match, the one he dreamt of meeting all along.

rather impulsive, they need a partner who'll be their oasis of calmness, who'll understand their hidden sensitivity and see through all non-chalant act they put up; tends to put need of others first, dreams of creating a deep and meaningful bond, likes to have 'excitement' in relationships, might argue just for the sake of it

'gyu, you okay?' you ask quietly.

mingyu jerks in surprise and then nods curtly, faking a big smile for your sake. 'of course, darling, why wouldn't i be?'

mingyu always has this 'all is good' front, never wanting to make you worry over him cause you shouldn't; he doesn't want you to think of him as of incapable and weak, because he isn't and it's him who should be worrying over you, not the other way around. anxiety threatens to take him by the storm, but he keeps on smiling at you, even when he knows you can tell that he's lying.

'mingyu,' you call and he barely resists the urge to whine at the gentle way you say his name; you are always so gentle with him and he sometimes fears it's all just a dream, because it's too good to be true. 'baby, you know it's okay to be scared, right? it's okay to be anxious and nervous over such a big thing.'

you come closer and his hands fall naturally around your waist, because that's where they belong and because mingyu needs to hold you in order to stop fidgeting. your eyes are so kind as you gaze up at him and he has to bite his lower lip to not confess all his fears to you. when you lovingly caress his cheek, he leans to your touch, seeking your comfort, always feeling instantly better whenever you're around to calm him down. 'i'm okay,' he stubbornly repeats, only this time his smile is more sincere as he looks at you. he actually is not okay, but he will be, because there's no other choice and because he refuses not be okay when you obviously are so worried for him. 'it's a peace of cake for me.'

he holds his breath, waiting for your reaction. he knows it's obvious how worried he is but instead of making fun of him for this, you smile, nodding and gripping his forearms reassuringly. 'of course, babe, it's a walk in the park for you! you'll ace it, no doubts about it.'

mingyu thinks his heart might burst from the love he feels for you at that moment. he stares at you in awe and your smile only gets wider in response. 'you can do anything, kim mingyu,' you say confidently and then add in the most sweet voice: 'my boyfriend is the best!'

mingyu doesn't know how he doesn't turn into a puddle of goo right in front of you, but somehow he keeps it together. faintly he hears his name being announced and then you usher him to the stage, wishing him good luck. he is still nervous, anxiety still thrums under his veins but it's much subdued now, when your shine brightly at him. 'you can do it!' you mouth at him and mingyu smiles, fully sincere now. with your belief him, with you be his side - his own oasis, his dream - he knows he can do anything.

a/n: me shattering all these 'dominant mingyu' fics with this drabble 🫠 pls forgive me and give love to this baby boy! - nini

tagging @prpldahy

my masterlist is here

#svt kim mingyu #kim mingyu x reader #seventeen scenarios #seventeen imagine #seventeen fluff #mingyu #seventeen reaction #mingyu imagine #kim mingyu #mingyu x reader #seventeen kim mingyu #seventeen mingyu #i am DEVASTATED by this basketball scene BYE #i like to hurt myself like that you know with these kind of imagines #come cry with me

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yung-notorious · 7 days

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🆕 ‘NEVER LOSE ME’ WHAT’S IN MY CLOSET!? - ♡

NLM Cast Wardrobe - (Chapters 1-7)

1. Burberry 'Her' Eau de Parfum

2. Nike 'Dunk Low Casual' White/Laser Fuchsia

3. Huda Beauty 'Faux Filler' Extra Shine Lip Gloss 'Sugar Baby'

4. Victoria's Secret 'Bombshell' Black Shine Strap

5. Louis Vuitton 'Félicie Pochette'

6. Jimmy Choo 'I Want Choo' Le Parfum

7. MCM 'Liz Reversible Medium Visetos' Black Tote Bag

8. Pandora Heart Charm Bracelet

9. Marc Jacobs Leather Small Tote 'Scorched'

10. Marc Jacobs 'Daisy Love' Eau de Toilette

11. Dior 'B23 High-Top' Sneaker

12. Skims Cotton Rib T-Shirt 'Sugar Pink'

#nlm collection #gojo x reader #gojo headcanons #jujustsu kaisen x reader #gojo x baddie #gojo satoru #gojo smut #gojo imagine #gojo fluff #jjk gojo #gojo x black y/n #gojo x yn #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #NLM wardrobe

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mulders-too-large-shirt · 3 days

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s4 episode 10 thoughts

(muffled crying) (sniffing) (conspicuous wiping of eyes) hey guys, welcome back to my liveblog

little did i know! little did past me know what i was getting into when i typed my opening lines below. but presumably YOU, the reader of this post, knew what i was signing up for, so i shall spare my words and just share that i thought it was a VERY VERY good episode, even if it was darker than my usual preference. i tend to like some bantering, but i don't see how bantering could have fit into this one. so let us begin.

i haven’t seen an episode in a few days, which probably explains why this week has been awful. i would wax poetic about how i have missed our agents, but i honestly cannot wait any longer and Need to watch this episode right now. which i think is an emotional one???

(author's note: yeah <3)

i need to TEAR into this, bro. like a bear in a trash can or something.

reading the episode description and this sounds evilllll!!! i still assume everything about samantha is a lie!! it saves time!!

mulder is sleeping… on a BED?? a proper bed?? i can’t tell. it’s so dark. if it is a bed, this is IMMENSE character development.

he sees a red light in the sky :0 and on his walls!! it says “follow” WHAT!!! what does that mean!??

it’s leading him to a car?? wait, he’s at a park? was he camping and that’s why he had a bed? why was he camping? who lured him out here with a laser like a cat… what does “mad hat” mean in this context?

and he is full on chasing this light. i love that for him. the music is super whimsical.

WHAT IS LESS WHIMSICAL is the body of a child sitting in this forest. what the HELL????

okay, tone change, i see you!

but the child sinks into the leaves??

oh girl. they really got me with the whole “it was all a dream" thing, and I FELL FOR THAT!!!

he is actually just sleeping on his COUCH, which i knew had to be the case, because he would NOT use a bed in his apartment. beds are a luxury you only get to experience in motels if your name is fox mulder.

damn, maybe that's why he likes to travel so much... cozy hotel bed... really makes you think

nooo he had a nightmare :( this is sad. he never seems to actually sleep.

he’s gonna find that park he dreamed of and drive there even if it is the middle of the night. in his leather jacket. yes. he means business!!

and he is going to the spot where he saw a body of a child… where now he sees…. dirt

so the next morning, he’s directing people who are digging stuff up. they look like police

ENTER SCULLY!!!! YAYYYYY :D i cheered!!! she wants to know what’s going on

“you called for forensic excavation at 5 am on a sunday, what are you looking for?” (he grabs her arm, looking delirious) <- ohhhh i knew after seeing this moment that this episode was gonna wreck me

he asks her to give him a minute, and when she’s all “you’re out here because of something you saw in a dream?” he gives her this look of “it’s not that simple and you KNOW that”. funny how you can say that with just a look.

but someone calls him over!!! NO! there is the skull of a child in there!!!

omfggggg

wait, we literally haven’t even gotten past the intro yet, and i’m already sat at the edge of my seat…………

we are sooooo back, baby!!!

hey, that intro was different from the standard too, i think. but whatever.

scully is deeply confused, asking to hear about his dream. the forensic investigators are digging, but he is implying they aren’t going fast enough… so he’s digging with HIS HANDS!!!!

oh, he is gonna mess some evidence up this way…

but he insists he knows what happened.

he describes the murder in great detail, and scully asks, you learned all of this from your dream? and he says no, i have this murderer’s MO memorized; it’s a guy named john lee roche.

so it is the power of careful study AND prophetic dreams at work that make mulder such a good investigator

it seems deeply wrong to see mulder in their office with only a t shirt on and not his fancy suits, but it is the weekend, and desperate times. this serial killer- roche- was very hard to catch back in the day. at the FBI, he was nicknamed “paper hearts” because of the heart trophies he took from the victims… oh… i see where this is going. the title is making sense now.

mulder was brought onto the case because he was thought to be able to get into the victim’s head……. omg… his reputation…. and he concluded the killer had to be someone ordinary who traveled a lot, like a salesman. and he was!!! roche was a vacuum salesman!!

(do we still even have those?)

scully points out that it was his profile that caught the bastard, and he just shrugs his shoulders. i would expect him to normally be more “yeah, i did that!!”, but it seems this one is very personal to him. not much to celebrate if you only caught the guy after the horrific murders happened.

he says they never found the hearts cut from the cloth, and he always wanted to count them and see if they really added up to 13. after this, he realizes that there were more than 13. this is really sad.

scully says maybe she can explain his dream!!! and maybe he solved it in his sleep when his subconscious took over! oh, she is a good friend

“you said it yourself once… you said a dream is an answer to a question we haven’t learned how to ask” <- YES he said that in 2x12, right? i always thought it was so poetic, and the fact that it was never mentioned again bothered me a little- BUT SHE REMEMBERED!!!

she’s telling him that he did good work, and they can identify the girl and put her to rest, and what if i cry about the way she leaned in to reassure him?? hey. what if i cry?

it’s time to look at some bones. scully seems to have found an identity pretty quick; her name was addie, and she went missing in 1975.

but mulder pushes back, saying that if that were true, it would mean roche started way before they thought he did. scully points out that the clothes and height match.

oh my god…. the way he’s looking at the bones, and she asks if he’s gonna be okay if they verify it… he shakes his head yes, but it seems hollow. she is trying to be so careful around him. it's making me emotional.

so, they go off to pennsylvania to try and make an ID with addie's relatives. scully does the talking, presumably because mulder is going through a Lot Of Feelings, and the minute they say they’re with the FBI, the dude who answered the door asked “you found addie?” ohhhhh :(

he immediately identifies the fabric pouch they found with the bones as made for addie... he used to slip quarters in it from the tooth fairy

bro, this episode is sad as hell.

“i used to think that missing was worse than dead because you never knew what happened” (cut to mulder) (cut to him looking at the portrait of addie on the wall) i’m gonna scream re: the implications about samantha

addie’s father asks if there were other victims they didn’t know about, and mulder looks very very very sad. i can sense him feeling that he needs to solve this, and that he’s gonna think he failed for not finding the others before. yes, i know where this is going

all of a sudden, he remembers from his dream that the killer drove a white el camino, and he probably kept the hearts in there. the car was sold in 1992. that was a while ago. i am feeling some doubts in terms of them still being in there.

“don’t you think the car might have been searched at least once already?” “not by me” <- DAMN!!! oh my god. his sense of duty. that ancient and primal Guilt in him. yeah yeah, i’m eating this up

they go to visit the car, where a young gentleman has been putting flames on the side. he seems giddy to hear a serial killer once owned his car. which i feel is valuable commentary on the commodification of the true crime industry and how it dehumanizes the suffering of the victims through sensationalism. but mulder is not gonna listen to him blabber, he is gonna get to WORK.

(man, i wonder how these two feel about the rise of true crime as an entertainment industry... i want to hear their thoughts)

they are sleuthing together. mulder takes a knife and cuts right into the seat!!!! he says something is wrong…. and remembers the “mad hat” clue…. he thinks this means it’s in the camper shell??? i fail to see the connection but that is okay, it wasn't my dream

mulder’s acting like a madman, ripping into the fabric of the camper shell, where he finds a copy of alice in wonderland…. WITH A HEART IN IT.

they are leaned in together, counting the hearts, and it would be an incredibly touching moment if it weren’t in such a sad context.

they find 16 hearts :( and he sadly says that means he had two more victims they didn't know about :(

they’re going to go visit roche. or not? someone is playing basketball.

OH. they’re letting this serial killer, who casually addresses him with a "hey mulder", play basketball?? by himself? that can’t even be fun…

they ask roche why he only claimed there were 13 victims. he said 13 sounded more magical. why is this dude at once so Normal seeming and viscerally scary?

oh… “i understand you take this very personally, mulder” oh no. oh no oh no oh no.

“sink one from there and i’ll tell you” (very high pressure basketball shot that mulder makes on the first try) well okay!!! an athlete!

roche says that if he brings the hearts back, he’ll tell him everything, which was not part of the deal. i am of the opinion that he should not get to see the hearts again, and that if he does, it will be very inappropriate.

oh my god. mulder’s at his desk with the hearts, all organized by name, falling asleep with his glasses on as he holds the last two. he can't even stay awake, he's working so hard to figure this out.

another red light moment!! it is guiding him places…. a dream??

NO!!! NO. it’s leading him to the news of watergate. oh no. i know where this is going.

he sees samantha, and he’s quoting what he said back then when The Incident went down, line for line, because he must have rewatched it a thousand times

we relive the scene, including the flashes of lights. he grabs the gun. this time, and opens the door…. and it’s… roche…?

(well, if it is really him behind the crime, how did he do the whole shaking everything and making stuff float bit? really makes you wonder. because i recall samantha's body floating horizontally for a bit)

but back to real world, where mulder wakes up screaming “samantha!” and again. i WILL cry. oh my god…. there’s a terrible realization in his face as he holds the hearts up.

no, no, no, stop making him suffer.

back to the prison. mulder is without scully this time, but with roche, who asks if he has the hearts.

mulder is questioning him about the weird comments yesterday, the whole "it's personal to you thing", then jumps right into “where were you in 1973?” and holy FUCK it’s tense.

“what, the whole year?” “november. the 27th of november. do you know what i’m getting at?” oh my god….

roche claims to have sold a vacuum cleaner in martha’s vineyard to mr. mulder at that time….

he’s going on and on about his father choosing the vacuum. and mulder’s face is so steely. but when he asks “what do you know about my sister?”, his voice is wavering.

again, roche insists that he brings him the hearts before he learns anything. which causes mulder to punch the shit out of him.

when the guards come in and roche snitches on mulder for punching him, the guard is like “i didn’t see it” which is deserved. more than deserved, actually.

but scully saw it go down!!! i thought he went on his own… guess she was outside watching

she is trying to talk sense into him post-prisoner punching, which has happened a few times now and makes me worry about mulder's employability if anyone knew he had a tendency to get physical with these villains, but i digress.

scully is explaining that roche can use the computer to look up anything he likes and find out where mulder’s from (it’s true! be careful what you post, guys!) and she thinks that he is using emotional blackmail. she thinks roche saw mulder’s heart on his sleeve and took advantage of that.

it would make sense that if he knows that he will spend the rest of his life in prison, he would torture mulder for funsies...

“scully, do you believe that my sister samantha was abducted by aliens?” oh my god we’re going there. i never thought we would go there.

“have you ever believed that?” she doesn’t answer, but she hangs her head… because what do you even say to that?

“no. so what do you think happened to her?”

he doesn’t know what he believes, but he has to find out… and that shot of scully’s face…… please kill me, it would be easier for all involved :(

in connecticut, mulder is at… his mom’s house? looking in the basement. did he just show up?

he apologizes twice for waking her up and asks how she is doing :( awww :( he was so worried :( oh this grown man… he is a baby to me….

so he pulls out the fabric hearts and asks if she recognizes them. and when she gets confused and tries to explain her memory isn’t as good after the stroke, he smiles, and hugs her, pats her back, says it’s alright.

OHHHHHH THE WAY HE HUGGED HER AND SMILED................. I WILL YELL. I AM YELLING NOW. AHHHH.

anyway. he falls back on a different line of thinking to try and get answers out of his mother: did dad ever buy you a vacuum cleaner? the answer: yes, he did, a long time ago, and it’s down here. he’s tearing through old decorations to find it, and it is the brand that roche claimed it was. he slams his fist down.

now hold on. i’m willing to bet he just named the most popular vacuum of the early 1970’s. because they’ve put too much work into this whole “samantha was taken by aliens or the government” storyline to debunk it entirely. what about her files in the west virginia archive? what about his father choosing which child he liked better? what about the whole “they took her as insurance so mr. mulder wouldn’t snitch on the cataloguing of humans and planning for alien colonization” thing? too much has been invested in this…. i think it can’t be true, but rather we’re exploring mulder’s emotional state with this sick and twisted excuse

skinner has summoned mulder!!! he is no longer allowed to work on the roche case because he punched tf out of him!!! mulder turns to scully with suspicion and skinner clarifies that she wasn’t the one who reported it (although she should have) but rather the whole thing was videotaped!!!

if i've said it once i've said it a million times: she's real as hell

skinner says that he should have mulder’s ass in a sling (okay, elaborate on that), but he tries to explain that roche might have information on his sister. scully says that it looks possible- he spent most of 1973 in boston, took a trip to martha’s vineyard in october… and it’s adding up.

she loves to do her research. i know she was an academic weapon in college.

skinner says this is even MORE of a reason to get someone else on this case, but scully says that no one knows roche better than mulder, it’s still his case, and we have to find the victims!!!

(angry skinner voice) (forcefully pointed finger at groveling mulder) "you tread very lightly" (forcefully pointed finger at scully) "you see that he does"

he basically said “watch your man, scully, or ELSE”

back to roche. they present to him the hearts, and he has a sick smile. i do not like this

“name them” “well, i think you know one of them already” oh that is evil

(said with the most fury that has ever been concentrated into scully’s voice per word) “prove it” <- she is not gonna let him do this alone, nor will she let him be manipulated!!! she is the best friend out there!!

roche is smiling, talking about watergate, how mulder and his sister were playing a board game that night. he says he was watching from the window. why does he know all of this?

he has this weird fixation on playing games, and says to pick out a piece of fabric, and he’ll give the location of the body it came from. fifty-fifty chance it’s samantha, and either way he gets a victim’s location.

what is up with this dude? why is he so casual about all of this? he does seem so… normal, despite the things he is saying.

at the location roche gives them, they find the words “mad hatter” carved into the rock. uh oh. that is showing up again. he starts digging with his hands.

scully is trying to talk sense into him, saying they need to get an excavation team, but his voice is strained as he tells her to “just help me, scully”. so she joins in, and they find something. he looks like a wild animal.

in the autopsy room, he’s approaching the bones, taking a deep breath as he goes over the case information, trying to prepare himself to see his sister.

there are visible tears in his eyes as he runs his hands over the fabric, then announces (in form of a question) that “it’s not her, is it scully?” there is a sense of relief involved, but still, pain from lack of answers.

samantha broke her collarbone when she was 6 on a rope swing in their backyard, and as he realizes this little girl's collarbone is intact, he’s crying and he’s sighing with relief.

“it’s not her”, she says; “it’s somebody though” is his reply. ohhhh my god. ohhhhhh my god. oh my goooooooood. it's somebody's grief that they have carried with them for decades just as he has. it isn't that much of a relief to know it isn't her if someone else has felt like he has since the 70's.

back to roche. he gives the name of the girl who they did find, with incredible detail on where she lived. scully’s voice is forced as she asks what year this happened, and he’s going on and on about the vacuum he almost sold the victim’s mother.

so mulder presents roche with the last heart, saying that is belonged to his sister. he’s making a big game of this, saying “you need me to lead you through”, to bring him to the place where his sister is buried. to which i think, no tf you don't.

he said he can’t wait to see mulder’s face, and you can hear scully exhale and say “oh god”, and that is how you know things are going to go DOWN.

she says he will see the inside of his cell instead; “you’re going to rot there” (holds the door for mulder) (all things considered, she showed excellent restraint)

she looks incredibly furious at these shenanigans, but softens up to ask if mulder is okay. she says that if they give roche what he wants, he could string them along forever. and it makes sense. there has to be another way to figure out if he is telling the truth.

back at home on his couch, mulder is pondering. he has a few fish in his tank. you need a bigger tank, i think, but idk if people cared about that in the 90's.

NO! he picks up the phone and calls for A REMOVAL ORDER OF A FEDERAL PRISONER!!!!!!!!

he gets on the plane with a handcuffed roche.

what the fuck, i thought we were NOT going to go down this route? what is he thinking?

roche asks to use the bathroom on the plane, but instead starts talking to a little girl, and mulder has to get there NOW, but there’s a stewardess in the way. oh no, what has he done...

scully is forced to tell skinner that mulder did, in fact, let the serial killer out. OH!!! skinner says “you let me down” to her…… oh my god……. that really hurts

she says that she had left mulder to his own devices for one day to get some sleep… do we believe her? honestly, yeah i do. especially because of how furious she became when roche brought up the idea that he could be let out.

she’s trying to advocate for mulder in his absence, talking about the “uniqueness” of the situation with a level voice, and skinner says yeah i know, i said that this situation was really unique the last time we talked, now let’s go and clean up this mess.

oooo skinner is MAD and i don't really blame his anger at mulder, but it's rude af to blame scully for the things mulder did... skinner confirmed anti-feminist, blaming a woman for a man's actions

(i jest. mostly. skinner and i still have beef and we probably always will. every time i think we're past it, he does something else that pisses me off, so we are constantly on uncertain ground. which is very father coded, all things considered)

cut to mulder cam, who is bringing roche to his old house?? roche is unsettlingly tall. he says he sat on the couch when his dad bought the vacuum… and then walks through what he claims happened the night of the murder. mulder’s thoroughly quizzing him, and he’s answering them correctly, even where his parents went once they left. or is he guessing at it all??

he claims to have cut the power, that the door was unlocked, and he walked in….

and mulder tried to get the gun, but he claims he froze…

OH! GAG!!!!!! MULDER BROUGHT HIM TO THE WRONG HOUSE!!!!!!!!!

he says his father bought this house AFTER the divorce… dude, how many properties did this guy own??????

but still. the point is made clear. roche is a fake.

so how did he know these things? perhaps, mulder proposes, that when he got into his head investigating the case, maybe that link goes both ways. that's a terrifying prospect

“and you’re in the wrong house, you stupid son of a bitch” <- this is a powerful line, but you can really hear the massachusetts come out when he says it. i think that’s really cool. i mean, is DD actually from there? i think he is, right? because he went to school with jfk jr. famous boston blood there.

if it’s not a purposeful detail or a inadvertent thing that slips into an actor’s performance when a scene is Emotional, then maybe i need verification: did y’all hear the massachusetts when he said that, too….

roche is scrambling to cover his tracks, saying it was just geography that he messed up, not the actual details, but he has now been exposed as a FAKE and a FRAUD

mulder doesn’t buy it, despite his claims he’s telling the god’s honest truth. hmm. perhaps leave the lord out of this.

then he’s sitting and holding that cloth heart. we hear his sister’s voice in the car, which is pulling away. and he grabs her, holds her close.

BUT HE WAKES UP AND ROCHE IS GONE AND HE IS HANDCUFFED!!! scully and skinner are at the door!!! roche must have manipulated him in his sleep?

omg……..

skinner is letting him have it, saying there’s a predator loose because of him, and how can he explain himself, and. while i agree. if i were in his shoes and there were any chance of getting an answer to the one question that has kept me up at night almost my whole life, i’m not sure if i wouldn't have fallen for roche’s lies as well. it is hard to imagine. i'd like to think i wouldn't, but how can you ever know?

it is a dark and ugly thing that mulder did, letting him out.

but we at least seem to get confirmation that the dream connection theory is accurate?

he asks for skinner’s phone, saying there was a child on the plane, and roche is probably going after her

NO! someone called ten minutes ago with the same name requesting the same information from the airline!!!!

it seems that the girl’s babysitter believed roche’s lies that her mother was in an accident and he needed to pick her up, and she blames herself for letting her go with roche. but mulder says it isn’t her fault, and it’s his fault instead.

oh my god…. he tells scully she was right, and when she asks if he no longer thinks roche took samantha, he says it doesn’t matter anymore………. because that grief that has ruled him forever has now been put onto someone else............. how terrible he must feel...

he thinks that roche will be somewhere nearby, and scully is pulling up his old address. he lived on alice road, and mulder says that has to be it, because he got the idea from alice in wonderland!

(i have never read the actual alice in wonderland book. did the mad hatter kill people and take hearts from their clothing? i thought he just. made tea and said weird stuff???)

skinner is in disbelief, but acquiesces to mulder’s knowledge, rounding up his men.

at the apartment, they can’t find anything. mulder is running in a field, climbing into a huge lot of busses??? old run down busses??? i'm confused at why this exists, but following along in terms of plot

he pulls out a tiny gun hidden in his sock (slay) and sprints towards the sound of a girl screaming, but with so many identical busses, where is she???

he hears some movement in one of them…. and finds roche and her in there together.

and roche is saying that he does think they share that nexus like he claimed. everything is very very tense.

mulder announces that he is going to take this girl home, and when roche points out that he has a gun, he asks the child to do a favor: count to twenty out loud, quietly and slowly. he has a way of talking to kids like they’re equals and i’ve always found it endearing, but now i’m wondering where tf he is going with this.

roche has the gun pointed at the girl… and we know he is capable of pulling it

roche is trying to say anything he can to get mulder to not kill him, asking how sure he is it isn’t samantha who was the last victim. but i don't think that is gonna work anymore.

and when the kid hits twenty, mulder pulls the trigger

JEEZ, we really saw some blood action go on there!

so the poor girl runs away screaming to scully, who is saying that it is okay, and that she has her (and i am emotional when ever they work with kids okay? especially after that convo in home where they talk about wanting families. whatever.)

and i’m left paused at roche’s dead head, which i feel in real life would have a lot more blood and gore, but for the sake of this being TV, it still is kinda shocking!

mulder’s holding the gun out, staring at roche’s body.

wait. we’re back at his office now. i am going to use this time to analyze the articles on his wall.

“strange activity down under” “are UFOs flying in colorado?” “ranchers shaking their heads over mysterious cow deaths” “US reports visits of UFOs to bases” (picture of crop circles, creepy creatures, a list of planets i think? and the famous poster)

pan to a very very sad mulder. scully knocks and comes in. she is staring at him. they are not saying anything for a few seconds that feel very very long.

oh my god. she comes in with the fabric analysis of the heart. all they can say is that it was made between 1969 and 1974.

she assures him it’s not samantha, and that they’ll find who the little girl really is.

“how?” “i don’t know. but i do know you.” (he looks up at her while fighting back tears) <- i am going to bite something. her unwavering belief in him will be the death of me.

“why don’t you go on home and get some sleep?” she asks, so gently (at this, he breaks into laughter, which gets a smile out of her)

and he wraps his hand around her waist, leaning his head into her, while she strokes his hair

then he puts the last heart in his desk drawer.

oh my gosh………

where to even begin....?

first thought: he must be laughing at her saying that because she knows damn well that he will not be able to rest, but also because it is comforting to hear how she believes in him. that, or “go on home and get some rest” is their code for “i’m letting you do what you want and not asking questions”, but i doubt that, because she claims to have said that to him earlier, and i feel scully would never EVER have let him release roche if she had known he was even sort of thinking about it.

second: yowch. this one hurted!

it took me an hour and 51 minutes to get through the 45-ish minute episode because i was SO glued to noting every moment.

i tend to prefer the episodes that are more lighthearted, so i did feel that absence here. that being said, i don’t think it would be possible to explore this side of mulder with there being humor in the plot or script, especially after we have seen how he uses it as a defense mechanism. when he can’t joke about something is when you know he’s hurting terribly.

it was dark. very dark. but i still enjoyed it for the character analysis. i love a character analysis episode, i love diving into what makes someone who they are. there was this sick relationship between roche and mulder where you knew he was going to do anything to get the answers, no matter what the risks were or who was placed in danger. and i think that shows the scary and dark side of mulder that can get overlooked; how his bloodhound-like need to sniff out an answer can and will endanger himself and others. but he is aware of this fact, and seems regretful, especially when he says it doesn’t matter anymore if he finds samantha, because he inadvertently put another child in danger to do so. and he is aware that the suffering he has felt is now going to be passed onto someone else if he does not fix it Right Away. which he does.

getting to see the good parts of a character driven to such an extreme where they become terrible traits is a rare treat. still, it can be hard to see your blorbo do bad things.

i do often wonder about his slapping of criminals and why he hasn’t gotten fired for some of these many rule-breaking sessions, but. shrugs. it’s not real, so we can’t entirely place real world logic on this stuff, i guess.

honestly, we also saw a lot of scully and learned about her character here, too. how she tries to draw the line between her own beliefs and the very real pain that mulder is suffering, and how his pain breaks her heart; how defensive she is of him, in front of roche and skinner or even the whole world, i’d imagine. her courage to look her boss in the eye and ask for mercy on his behalf as he goes out and breaks every rule known to mankind because he wants to bend the earth to his will. that bone-deep righteous conviction she carries with her that i love so much.

and more on how she’s always touching him- they skirt around the emotional issues at hand, asking if he’s okay to make an ID or to see the autopsy and not really touching the sore spot with words unless they absolutely have to. but while they only brush it verbally, she is physically reaching out to him, leaning in, stroking his head, touching his arm… god, the way they communicate kills me. it's like they find it far easier to let their bodies express emotion, which probably comes from the constant need to Be Strong both of them feel in their line of work, but it is really compelling. it's fascinating. as someone who is always going to tell you how i feel at all times, i find it very intriguing. are they afraid to say what they mean? or do they have this connection that words aren't needed for? please let me know what you think. am i alone in this? do you think they are good at talking about their feelings? or am i voicing a popular sentiment that they are mostly pretty Bad at it. because i'm thinking of other times where they are Honest and Truthful, and they tend to keep it very succinct. maybe that's what makes it more impactful.

how he laughed at her after she said she believed in him, and how she smiled back, how he leaned into her????? can i bottle that and drink it when i feel like suffering?

god, i’ve felt that when i read dialogue prompts, they don’t seem to work for writing msr as easily as you would think, because so much of what they say isn’t even said. it’s in glances and touches and leans, and the words tend to be sparse but truthful when they matter and witty and prolonged when it’s nothing of importance. what a strange balance they have. shoutout to people who write msr, because it seems very hard to do when you want to write a genuine tale of them getting up to emotional activities.

overall, i liked this episode, but it was still a bummer. s4 is full of bummers, so far. i have not giggled in a while. i would like to giggle at some point in the future. perhaps that is something we can work toward. i once again request a fic where they go to an apple orchard. perhaps i shall end all of my posts with that, at least until we get some levity back to the game. that being SAID, it was still excellent.

let me know what you think- does everyone agree that this is a good episode? did you feel sad? did you think it was Too Dark? any criticism? any high praise? and the big one that is nagging at me now: how tf do you understand the way they communicate? can it be conceptualized?? please share with me all of your thoughts in as much detail as you can spare.

#very long post is usually an indication of a very good episode. and brother it's lengthy today.#i feel like i have a lot to say but idk how to say it #just ouch. yowch. yowza. pain.#mulder tried his best to do the right thing but i like narrative wise that they let him fail #even if it is hard to watch as a fan because augh he did something so foolish!#but oftentimes he is portrayed as this all-knowing being so. it was good to see him fail on camera #and the wrestle with the feelings that provoked #need to make a longer post about how they communicate and why it baffles me #juni's x files liveblog #the x files #txf

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fluloa · 2 years

Text

my headcanons for the sully family

JAKE:

- has an apron that says ‘kiss the chef’

- has thought about getting an ear piercing and would like to

- always itchy, like will be constantly scratching at a random part of his body during a casual conversation

- had a loner phase when he was in middle school

- doesn’t like fuzzy things, he hates the texture and the way it feels on his skin, gives him a bad type of goosebumps

- adhd. said what i said

- flexes his big dad muscles every chance he can get (good for him tbh)

- finds it so relaxing when neytiri plays with his hair

- is a big purrer, to the point where it’s embarassing and he HATES it but he can’t help it

- cries every single time he watches the start of finding nemo

- hates watching reality tv

NEYTIRI:

- loves watching reality tv

- bites off her toenails (sorry not sorry)

- really likes apple juice

- loves the song cover me in sunshine by pink, every time she plays it, lo’ak screams out in agony

- a sad beige baby mom

- makes weird faces when feeding babies and does the sound ‘nom nom nom’

- loves cats. jake got one for her for her birthday and he doesn’t think she’s ever seen her happier

- wine lover and proud (especially with these little shit of a kids)

- has a collection of perfumes and jewellery that she only touched like once or twice. poor girl just forgets about them bc of all the stress she’s holdin

- the type of mom to demand every kid’s room is clean when somebody is going to be over. lo’ak is always the one to say “they won’t even be coming into our room!”

- lo’ak gets a whooping for that

NETEYAM:

- asks jake for his old band t-shirts

- loves water parks and will say weeee when going down the slides

- lets tuk put makeup on his face. but that stopped after she used some cheap shop makeup on him and he got an allergic reaction from it

- sometimes he wears belt with his jeans and it is funny

- always forgets to knock before opening doors. once caught jake butt naked and has never been the same again

- his favourite color is purple but he says it’s blue so that people don’t make fun of him

- loves playing laser tag even though he sucks ass at it

- he’s a fan of marvel and he’s always first at the cinemas when a movie comes out

- likes to skateboard. surprisingly very good at it since he’s only used it like ten times since he got it for 12th birthday

- for some odd reason, he really likes helping neytiri out with grocery shopping? also a guilty pleasure to pick out some of his favorite snacks and being the perfect little son that he is, neytiri always says yes

- brushes his teeth DAY AND NIGHT without a skip

KIRI:

- definitely plays my singing monsters

- had a monster can collection phase (will not admit to it although)

- that being said, had an ‘indie kid’ phase and begged norm for a couple of unused cds so she could paint them

- listens to mitski and lana del ray and flexes it to people and attacks them if they say they don’t know who they are or they don’t like their music

- wants her septum pierced but by neytiri’s words, “i’d rather die.”

- does her own hair, hence why it’s so messily beautiful

- neytiri cuts her hair though, as much as she doesn’t like to admit it

- would really like a tattoo, but neytiri has said no obviously

- tried asking jake for the tattoo, but jake was terrified of neytiri’s expression so he said no

- then tried to do a stick and poke and it failed miserably (rejected from her skin a week later)

- weirdly insecure of her nose, sometimes she likes it, sometimes she doesn’t

- jumps on the trampoline with tuk until she’s passed out from exhaustion

- plant lover. like seriously has a dozen in her room and will panic if she hasn’t gotten the time to water them for a day

LO’AK:

- plays mortal kombat and has an addiction to it. will yell out fatality when putting neteyam in a headlock

- begs neytiri for waves (she always says no, thank god)

- has got led lights in his room that are stuck to the wall with shitty sticky tape. you can easily see it, too

- always facetiming tsiyera but half of the time she doesn’t answer

- the type to lick chip dust off of his fingers until the last speck is demolished

- SATURDAYS ARE FOR THE BOYS

- has a pet fish and secretly adores her, her name’s shelly and will go into deep detail if you ask about her

- favorite food is doritos and takis

- was a ‘all girls are the same’ type before he met tsiyera

- wears his worn ass jordans religiously

TUK:

- has a pink ipad

- makes her own fake youtube tutorials on said ipad. kiri sneakily watches them when she’s sleeping

- can do an impressive amount of tricks on the trampoline and each time she learns a new one she yells out, “DAD!!! DAD, DAD, DAD, COME WATCH THIS!!!! DAD!! DAD!! DAD!!!!”

- her heart broke when jake with a few drinks in his system decided to jump on the trampoline on a party night and ended up tearing a massive hole in the middle of it

- has a CRIPPLING obsession with slime and neytiri absolutely hates it. always searching up ‘how to make slime no borax no glue’ and always makes a mess of wherever she makes it

- SHE LOVES DISNEY and her favorite princess is moana

- begged neytiri to let her dye the ends of her hair purple. neytiri used one of those ten washes dyes in a box and didn’t bleach her hair before because “no way am i putting bleach in my daughter’s hair” when it didn’t work because tuk’s hair is literally pitch black, she cried

- she literally loves the low space buns hairstyle and will forever ask neytiri to do it for her. but will end up crying because of how hard neytiri pulls her hair (it’s not even that hard)

- has a huge collection of squishmallows (jake got her them all)

- doesn’t actually like chocolate but loves candy

- the type to bounce on neytiri and jake’s bed to wake them up

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spilledbeans116 · 1 year

Text

Taking a Sick Day

(Raditz x Reader)

Raditz x fem!reader - 2,468 Words - SFW

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This fic was a request by an anonymous user! The prompt was as follows:

"Can I request a Raditz one-shot please? Where the reader is sick and he's taking care of her."

I did just that! You can imagine this as being part of the Princess Saga universe I suppose, minus Earth being fine. Otherwise it’s just an alternate saiyan AU! I hope you all enjoy!

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Raditz was pacing back and forth in his room, unsure of what to do. Kakarot was off-world doing who knows what, probably visiting Earth again or something stupid like that. The point was he wouldn’t pick up his scouter, and Raditz was running out of options. Nappa wasn’t answering either, leaving only one more person he could call. He shut his eyes tight as he placed his fingers upon the scouter, clicking the button twice as the transmission was sent out.

“The hell do you want?” Snapped the prince, sounding a bit breathless. A few grunts came from the other end and Raditz quickly realized he must be sparring or something similar.

“I need… help.” He replied weakly, running his hands through his hair.

Vegeta laughed at him, the sound slightly staticy through the scouter’s speakers. Raditz simply sighed, rolling his eyes as he waited for Vegeta to stop making fun of him. “Why the hell would I help you?”

“I- well-“ he groaned, kicking at the floor before flopping down on his couch. “I think she’s sick.”

Vegeta rolled his eyes, grunting again as he dodged the training bot’s laser attack. “You have to be more specific, dumbass.”

“You know…” Raditz grumbled, face heating up as he began to fidget with his hands, “her.”

“Oh right, your woman play-thing,” Vegeta gagged.

“Hey, don’t call her that!” Raditz yelled.

“Watch your tone with me!” Vegeta yelled back before continuing, “Is she your girlfriend yet?”

Raditz paused, “well not technically I haven’t asked her yet and-“

Vegeta sighed, “get to the point Raditz.”

“I don’t know what to do!”

He could practically hear the way Vegeta rolled his eyes, “go take care of her?”

“Yeah, but how? And what if I get sick?”

Vegeta actually stopped training for a moment, wondering if he was actually dealing with this right now. The moment was over as soon as it happened, however, as he was almost zapped by another attack. “Don’t be such a baby and bring her soup or something you idiot!”

“What if she doesn’t like soup!”

Vegeta grit his teeth, “then pick something else! She’s your girlfriend damn it!” At that the call ended, and Raditz rolled his head back into the couch cushions.

“She’s not my girlfriend,” he huffed. What the hell was he supposed to do?

——

What the hell were you going to do? You felt awful; so awful that awful was an understatement. You weren’t sure if this was a common cold being taken to the extreme from lack of rest, or perhaps it had never been a cold to begin with and you picked up some virus while out on a mission last week. The point was you were running a high fever and your nose was running like a waterfall.

Your body ached, worse than training with the boys always felt. It felt as though your skin was on fire, and lounging around in just a t-shirt and underwear still felt as if you were covered in winter clothing. Your tail hung limp behind you as you weakly made your way to the fridge, needing to get something to drink.

You felt awful having to cancel on Raditz yesterday. Hopefully he understood that you just weren’t up for going off-world, as excited as you had both been for it. The last thing you wanted was to get him sick or simply overdo it and get worse.

You felt like you were hallucinating when there was a knock at the door and you stopped to stare at it for a moment, tail barely twitching as you concentrated on the sound. The knock rang out once more, louder this time, as you made your way to it.

“I’m comin’,” you groaned, grabbing a blanket from off the couch and wrapping it around your waist haphazardly. You grabbed the door knob and twisted it slowly, cracking the door open slightly just to take a peak at who it was.

Dressed in a dark-brown tank top and black sweatpants was none other than the long-haired man himself. He was carrying a gift bag in one hand, along with a tray of something else in the other. His smile was gentle as he waited for you to let him in. “Hey sleepy-girl, how ‘ya feeling?”

You opened the door wider, slightly embarrassed of your disheveled appearance. You hadn’t brushed your hair today, but you were glad you at least managed to brush your teeth and shower for a bit so you were somewhat presentable. “Sick.”

“Yeah, I can tell.” He walked in past you, tail brushing against your nose and causing you to giggle a bit before you shut and locked the door to your room.

“Watch your tail, I don’t wanna get snot on you,” you snickered, waddling into the main foyer after him.

“Ew!” He laughed, setting the tray down on the kitchen counter, “don’t say stuff like that, it’s gross!”

“It’s the truth!” You replied, a dopey smile lighting up your features. Raditz stood across from you, leaning against the countertop in your kitchen. Your little room was nothing grand; you had a small kitchen with a barely operating fridge and stove top, and a rounded table with four seats sat right near the edge of where the kitchen ended and the living room began. You had one couch, a small coffee table, and your television was sitting atop a small bookshelf across from them both. The only other rooms were the bathroom and your bedroom, which was a complete and utter mess at the moment.

“Why are you here?” You croaked, moving back into the living and walking up to the coffee table. Your bathroom trash bin sat on the floor beside your couch-makeshift-bed, filled to the brim with tissues. You added another to the pile as you grabbed the box from the desk and blew your nose, Raditz wincing at the sound.

“I wanted to make sure you were taking care of yourself,” he replied casually. “Eating, drinking, breathing; all the good stuff.”

You giggled once more before that evolved into an avid coughing fit. He moved over to you quickly, grabbing your shoulders and steering you to lay down on the couch. “Gods you're burning up! What’s your temperature?”

“You should know I run hot,” you winked, coughing into your elbow as he rolled his eyes and smirked.

“Oh no, and you’re delusional! It’s worse than I thought.” You held in your laughter this time, not wanting to choke on your own giggles again. Raditz was so much larger than you, and often times tougher than most saiyans because of it. Today, however, his touch was gentle, and he pushed you to lay back slowly, situating your pillow behind your back before walking back into the kitchen.

“Seriously though, why are you here? Did you forget something?” You asked carefully.

He simply shook his head, pulling all that hair of his into a messy bun and washing his hands. “What, I need a reason to come and visit?”

You thought for a moment, “usually you have some sort of excuse.”

“What!” He snapped, crossing his arms. “I do not!”

You began to count on your fingers as a smile crept up your face, “well, there was that one time you ‘forgot’ your favorite hair-tie.”

“Have you seen how much hair I have?” He countered, waving at the piled up strands. “The others don’t work!”

“Or you ‘forgot’ your phone but it was really in your pocket?”

“I genuinely could not find it.”

“And finally,” you said carefully. “Two days ago you woke me up early to go on our mission, which wasn’t scheduled until yesterday.”

Raditz shrugged, “I am my brother’s brother. Brains isn’t exactly something my family takes pride in.”

“Isn’t your dad a scientist?”

Raditz grabbed the tray and gift bag and made his way over to you, quick to change the subject, “look, I brought food for you.”

You sniffed carefully, smirking as the scent of a flavorful broth hit your nose. “You made me soup?”

“No, I brought you soup. I can’t cook to save my life, luckily the dining hall had some on stand by.”

You smiled anyway as he set the tray in your lap, the gesture on its own more than enough. “Thanks Raditz.”

“No problem sweet heart,” he teased, ruffling your hair and grabbing your trash bin. He walked it over to your main garbage can and dumped it, setting it back down beside you carefully.

“How’d you know this was my favorite?” You asked, raising an eyebrow and lifting the spoon to your lips. You blew on it carefully before popping it in your mouth, tail wagging weakly behind you as you smiled and relaxed. “Man this is good. Just what I needed.”

He smiled as he watched you eat it, glad you were feeling well enough to get some food into your stomach. “Believe it or not,” he chuckled, walking up to the tv and sticking a usb of some sort into the back of it, “I pay attention to the things you tell me.”

“Sometimes,” you added playfully.

He rolled his eyes and nodded. “Sometimes.” He quickly snatched the remote from the coffee table and plopped down beside you on the couch, causing your body to bounce up a bit and for the soup to slosh around in the bowl. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” you smiled, finishing off your soup and setting the tray on the ground. You tilted your head at him, “what did you put in the tv?”

He shrugged, “just a USB.”

You rolled your eyes and crossed your arms, “with what on it, dummy.”

“Oh! Apologies, Vegeta,” he said quickly, smirking and bowing to you. “I didn’t realize I was speaking to the prince! Had I known sooner I-” He laughed as you shoved his shoulder before you started coughing again. His eyes whipped to yours quickly as he looked you over, concern clear as day in his stare. “Are you okay?”

You nodded, the coughing not subsiding. He grabbed the water from the tray and handed it to you, encouraging you to take a few sips. You did, choking on the water a bit in the process but getting it down nonetheless.

He wiped your cheek carefully, running a thumb over the corners of your eyes to wipe the tears that gathered there away. “Man you’re a mess.”

“Thanks Raditz.” You croaked.

“Come here,” he grunted, turning your body as if you weighed nothing at all. He placed a pillow on his lap and pulled your head down onto it, your legs resting comfortably on the cushions. He looked down at you and swept your hair out of your face before taking his out of the bun. “You need rest.”

“I wanna see what you brought with you though,” you frowned. “What’s on the USB? And what’s in the bag?” He sighed, clicking through the menu options and loading up the video file on it. Your tail thumped happily as you read the title of the movie and glanced up at him. “There is no way you-“

“I know, I know, it’s the WORST movie of all time,” he teased, poking your sides as you giggled.

“How dare you!” You squealed. “This is my all time favorite you ass!”

“Mhm, that makes sense I suppose.”

You glared at him, jabbing his side, “hey!” He laughed again, his voice echoing around the room and making your heart beat wildly in your chest.

“Since it’s for you though I guess I can put up with it. Just this once.”

You wrapped your arm around his leg and nuzzled into the pillow, a shiver running up his spine. He pulled a blanket over you as you relaxed, incredibly comfortable and at peace being taken care of by the large saiyan.

“How’d you even get it?”

“Through a very legal, not-virus filled website.”

You shook your head, “oh, of course.” You glanced over at his feet, where the silver gift bag was laying, stuffed haphazardly with white and sparkly tissue paper. “What’s in that?”

“Well, do you want it now, or when you’re feeling better?”

You paused, rubbing your hand against your chin as you thought. “Is it something I’d want now?”

He nodded, “I think so.”

“Then I’ll take it now please.” You rolled onto your back, staring up at him as he leaned down and grabbed the handles of it. He smelled refreshing up close, his cologne breaking through even your overly stuffed-up nose.

“Here you go,” he replied, handing it to you. “It’s nothing fancy so don’t-“

“Oh you stop that,” you giggled, taking the tissue paper out. “I’ll love it no matter- OH MY GOSH,” you yelled, coughing into your arm again.

“Careful! Geez!” He exclaimed. “If it kills you I’ll feel awful!” You pulled the stuffed animal out of the bag slowly, admiring the pristine fabric and the little red bow around its neck. It was your favorite animal in your favorite color, and you wrapped your arms around it tightly. The fabric was soft and plush in your hands, and your smile lit up your features.

“Raditz, this is the sweetest thing anyone has ever gotten me. Ever.” He waved his hand at you.

“You’re just saying that,” he grunted, the tips of his ears heating up. Your eyes felt heavy laying there like that, and you turned onto your side again to watch the movie, stuffy now clutched closely to your chest and the tissue paper being scattered around the couch and floor.

“You’re a good boyfriend, Raditz,” you sighed. His tail puffed out as he looked down at you.

“I- uh-“

“Thank you.”

“Y-y-you’re welcome,” he grumbled, face blushing bright red. He felt hot now, veins pumping fire beneath his skin. He might have even been as warm as you now. Had you called him that intentionally, or were you simply so out of it from the fever you had no idea what you were saying?

He glanced down at you once more, watching the gentle rise and fall of your chest as you snored softly. The combination of him, the movie, warm soup, the stuffy, and his gentle care having finally allowed you to get some much needed rest. He placed a kiss to your forehead, his tail intertwining with yours as he ran a hand through your hair and you smiled. He’d ask you about it when you were feeling better in a few days. Hell, after he got better. He wasn’t leaving your side until you were healthy again, and that probably meant getting himself sick in the process. That was something to deal with when it happened, however. Right now though? He was just happy you were okay.

#Raditz #Raditz x reader #Raditz x fem!reader #DBZ #DBZ fanfic #dbz fanfiction #dragon ball z #dbz #vegeta #dbz x reader #saiyan self insert #beanbag requests

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vintageshanny · 1 year

Text

Hot Leather

Content: 70s Elvis, smut in the suit pictured below, 18+

Writing prompt:

“Do you mind? I came here to get away from other people.”

You headed back inside the house after a nice walk around the grounds of Graceland. It was a beautiful day, but Elvis had decided he couldn’t join you because he wanted to try on a few new costumes he had ordered. He was thinking of changing it up from the usual white jumpsuits he performed in. You headed up to the bedroom in search of him. “Elvis? Where are you?” There were some rustling noises coming from the large walk-in closet, but the door was closed. You walked over and flung it open, wondering if an animal had somehow gotten in the house. Instead of an animal, you saw Elvis standing in front of you in a skin-tight beige leather suit with metal adornments.

“Do you mind? I came here to get away from other people,” he burst out, sounding embarrassed. “It’s not other people, baby, it’s just me,” you said, looking him up and down. “I-I-I’m sorry, honey, I know, I-I-I just didn’t want ya to see this yet. I’m not sure how I look. Is it t-t-too much?” You couldn’t help smirking at the idea that Elvis would find any outfit to be “too much.” You looked him over again and took in all the details. There was an interesting V-shaped design of metal studs going about halfway down the front of the shirt, with his hairy chest poking out in between. There were more studs in a design around his knees. The suit was almost the color of his flesh, which gave an illusion of nudity at first glance. But what really drew your eyes in was the lace-up crotch.

“It’s definitely a different look. It’s very sexy, very um, form-fitting,” you rambled on while your eyes were laser-focused on his package. He followed your gaze down to the lace-up pouch of fabric that contained Little Elvis and smirked a little bit. “Oh, do ya like my form, baby?” he chuckled. Little Elvis was beckoning to you like a siren song. You drew closer to him, rubbing your hand gently over the outline of him. He breathed in sharply. “Your, uh, form always looks good to me. Maybe I should see if someone needs a little break from all that hot leather,” you murmured as you rubbed a little harder, feeling his length grow under your hand, a soft groan escaping his lips. Pushing Elvis up against the wall of the closet, you got down on your knees in front of him, now face to face with the laces that were starting to look a little strained.

“It’s like opening a gift on Christmas morning,” you whispered excitedly as you started to untie the string. “Yeah? Did you ask Santa for a rock hard cock, baby?” Elvis said, unable to contain his loud hiccuping laughter. “I didn’t even have to ask, he knew I wanted that when I started dating you,” you teased. Peeling down the tight leather pants just enough for his cock to spring out, you leaned in and ran your tongue across the sensitive tip that was peeking out of the foreskin, causing Elvis to shiver with delight. “Goddamn baby, you always know just what to do with your gift.” Taking his cock in one hand, you moved your mouth up and down on it while the other hand gently braced against his waist, your fingertips brushing against the soft skin of his stomach underneath the leather shirt. Once you got a good rhythm, you moved your hand off his cock and let him thrust into your mouth while your hands roamed over his body, squeezing his thighs and butt through the leather pants. He reached down and fondled your breasts while you continued to take him in your mouth, your name repeatedly falling from his lips between groans and whispers of “Oh, god, that feels so good.”

“Baby, I think I’m bout to cum, ya ready?” he called out, never wanting to surprise you with it. You nodded as you moved your mouth up to suck at his tip while the warm explosion poured over your tongue. “Oh god honey,” he groaned out with a shudder, slumping back against the wall while you licked his cock clean. You’d do anything to hear this beautiful man moan out your name in pleasure like that. Little Elvis gave one last little twitch as you kissed him softly and helped Elvis lace the pants back up.

“So is that a yes to this costume then?” Elvis asked, pulling you in for a big kiss. “Mmm, I don’t know Elvis, I kind of want this gift to be just for me,” you patted Little Elvis gently. “I don’t want some other woman trying to unlace you.” “Oh, honey, ain’t no one else could unlace me like you do,” he laughed. “Y’know,” he added a little sheepishly, “this came with a cape too.” Your eyes lit up at that. “Oh, my superhero, huh? Some time you can come rescue me wearing just the pants and cape.” “You don’t like the shirt?” he asked, a little surprised. “I like it, baby, but I want easy access to this.” You reached into the opening of his shirt and ran your fingers across his chest hair, giving his nipple a light pinch, causing him to give a little moan and shiver. “Mmm I love how sensitive you are, daddy.” “You’re a little weirdo, y’know that?” he laughed. “That’s just what you do to me. So damn sexy,” you stared into his beautiful eyes and leaned in for another kiss, feeling on a high from the taste and scent and feel of this man.

Sorry ladies, I had to do it! I couldn’t get this suit off my mind, and now hopefully neither can you! Is it out of my system? Probably not. 😂 Thanks for the inspiration and making me feel like less of a weirdo for being turned on by this suit @thatbanditqueen! The rest of you will come around. @missmaywemeetagain @whositmcwhatsit @ellie-24 @be-my-ally @from-memphis-with-love

#Elvis #Writing prompt game #Hot leather stud suit #elvis x reader #Elvis fan fic #i love this man

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dearheart42regenerated · 11 months

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gritting my teeth and sharing this in the tag in hopes that it'll help me manifest actually FINISHING this fic.......

“I’m still not buying this!” Chuck popped out from the passenger’s side and leaned over the door, pointing an accusing finger at her. “How do you really know about Mutt?” he demanded.

Capri blinked and frowned, giving him a once-over as she crossed her arms. “How do you know about Mutt, Goldilocks?”

Texas cracked up at the nickname, slapping Dutch on the back. “Goldilocks! That’s a good one, hahaha…”

“The name’s Chuck, for your information,” huffed Goldilocks, “and I’ve been hanging with Mikey since elementary school. Where have you been his whole life?”

“Elementary school, huh?” Something bitter flickered in her eyes. “That must’ve been nice…”

Mike tried to calm his friend, slightly taken aback by how riled up he was. “Easy, Chuckles, let’s just–”

“No! I’m not gonna sit back and let some random stranger put you through this all over again, dude! It’s not okay!”

“Look, I appreciate it, but–”

“All she has is a story about your bobblehead. That’s not actual proof she’s your sister!”

“He’s right.” Dutch’s eyes were wary. “Anyone could make up a childhood memory like that. How do we know Kane isn’t paying this one off like he did with your fake dad?”

“Let’s at least hear her out first, guys,” said Julie, exasperated. “You can’t demand ‘real proof’ and then not give her a chance at all! Maybe she–”

“I still say she’s an evil clone!” Texas declared.

The arguing devolved into chaos, everyone speaking over each other to the point where nothing coherent could be heard anymore.

“Heartwarming reunion over, I guess,” Capri muttered, unfastening her thigh holster. She pulled out a laser pistol and fired two blasts into the air. “EVERYONE. SHUT UP.”

Everyone shut up.

She sighed and holstered the gun, glaring at nobody in particular. “Sweet baby gumdrops. Okay. FIRST of all…” She turned to Mike. “You don’t need to take my word for it. I wouldn’t take my word for it, either.” Her com-screen popped up, glowing fiery orange. She scrolled, selected a file with the words “CAPRI C. GENETIC PROFILE” hovering above it, and flicked it over to him. “There you go. The DNA can speak for itself.”

Mike took it but barely glanced at it, still looking at her as if she were a hologram herself – something that could disappear any second. Chuck just stared at the unopened file from the other side of the car, unable to hide his own curiosity.

“Secondly. Goldilocks.”

He jumped and straightened his posture with a gulp. (Texas snickered.)

Her boots thumped in the silence as she strode towards him, cold annoyance in her voice. “For your information, I wasn’t talking about Mutt to prove I’m Mike’s sister. I brought it up to find out if he’s my brother.” She fished in one of her pockets and pulled out a well-worn photograph, dangling it in front of his nose. “There could be any number of ‘Mike Chiltons’ running around and I haven’t been here in a while. I wanted to be sure.”

“Whoa,” he murmured, one hand reaching for it.

Capri snatched it away, eyes hard as steel, and walked back around to Mike. Her expression softened when she handed the photo to him. “I am sure, now.”

It showed a little girl with messy hair and an even messier t-shirt – face scrunched up in a grin, one front tooth missing – and a wide-eyed baby dangling in her arms like a kidnapped puppy, clutching Mutt in small chubby hands, attempting to shove the top of its bobbing head in his mouth. The colors were faded, the edges bent and torn; but the happiness captured in it was so vibrant it made his chest ache.

Any doubts he had left vanished, replaced by dizzying questions he couldn’t find words for. He had a sister. This was real. (What happened?)

“Thirdly!” said Capri, giving the other Burners a smile that bordered on a snarl. “I’m so very sorry if I’m being rude here, it's just that I spent the last seventy-two hours hopping city-to-colony and crossing a gazillion miles of mutants, raiders, boiling heatwaves and radiation pits to get back to Motorcity. Totally for funsies, of course. It's not like I’ve been trying to track down the only family I have left or anything.”

Everyone shifted uncomfortably.

“Point being, I’ve had a long flippin’ day! So how about you nosy little ferrets take that file I just sent, run the DNA test, confirm I’m actually not a lying scumbag, and then y’all can decide on how to torture me next. What do you think?” she growled, shooting “Goldilocks” an incinerating look. “That sound alright to you? Chuck?”

Chuck all but melted into a whimpering puddle of terror and compliance, stammering out a vaguely affirmative reply as he stumbled over to where the unopened file still hovered.

“Great! Glad we could get that sorted out.”

Everything in her demeanor dripped with spite…but Mike was beginning to notice the dark circles under her eyes, the heaviness in her shoulders. How many miles had she really crossed to get here? How many hours had she spent combing the dark labyrinth of Motorcity to find him? (Based on nothing but a hope that it might be him?)

And then they had all assumed the worst of her.

Capri must be exhausted.

“Now, if you’ll excuse me…” She stormed off towards her motorcycle. “I’m gonna check my bike for damage and maybe also secretly plot to sell out your leader to the guy who destroyed my whole childhood. Holler if you need me.”

#motorcity #mike chilton #capri chilton #VERY rough draft lol #made by yours truly #not beta-read and not perfect but I feel surprisingly good about how this is turning out.........#IF I manage to finish this and turn it into the 2-parter I'm imagining I'll put it on AO3 #maybe #god I haven't written anything in ages I feel so RUSTY

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idiopath-fic-smile · 2 years

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ficlet: W.A.R!Enjolras's birthday party

roughly a bajillion years ago, i said i'd write donation fics for people who gave to abortion related causes. i flagged out about halfway through but i'm back, baby, and i'm determined to fill those requests.

this is for @sharki-leftishark, who was curious to see a birthday celebration in the W.A.R universe, either enjolras or grantaire. so today i bring to you enjolras's birthday, following the events of W.A.R. i never did figure out the month in which this story takes place, so please feel free to mentally set it whenever your own zodiac headcanons dictate.

ETA: and many thanks to @consultingreaders and @give-me-a-minute-to-think for the speedy and helpful beta!

Senior year

Maybe three-quarters of the way through opening the presents, Grantaire realizes that Enjolras is saving Grantaire’s gift for last. Enjolras tosses aside the paper from the hardbound journal that Marius got him, thanks Marius with real earnestness even though it’s the third variation of a notebook he’s received today, starts to reach for Grantaire’s sloppily wrapped bundle, sees the tag, and then his hands stutter instead toward a shiny package that turns out to be from Joly.

The package contains some sort of board game. Courfeyrac insists that the game is “Risk in space, it is so clearly Risk in space—we’ve been over this, people. Enjolras is not allowed within ten yards of a pretend army, remember? We voted?” and then Joly waves his cane at Courfeyrac, shouting, “People change! Also it’s a cooperative game, we’d be harnessing the laser eyes for the power of friendship and community!” and a lively debate ensues.

Grantaire follows some of it. He’s mostly trying not to think about how Enjolras, who believes in self-discipline and delayed gratification and all that shit, apparently considers Grantaire’s contribution to be the grand finale of this whole experience. Enjolras, who loves his friends so much. It’s heady to consider: the height of Enjolras’s expectations and the chance of maybe not meeting them, a quick swoosh up and then down. Not that Enjolras would ever be a dick about it or anything, but they’ve been dating, for-real dating, for months now, and if Enjolras doesn’t love the present, Grantaire will probably know.

After a lifetime, the presents-opening resumes. Feuilly has set up an appointment for Enjolras to interview a real-life union leader. Combeferre contributes a tidy set of books by someone named bell hooks. Courfeyrac’s offering is a gift certificate to the impossibly cool indie movie theater two towns over as well as a bubble gun blower, which immediately sparks off another round of debate.

(“Oh, so fictitious simulated pretend armies are verboten, but you get him a firearm?” Joly manages between laughs.

“One that shoots soap bubbles, you maniac!” Courfeyrac shoots back.

“At least it would be a clean kill,” muses Combeferre, and Eponine’s eye roll would be slightly more convincing if they hadn’t clearly slipped away during the division of the birthday cake to make out.)

And then, well. And then it’s Grantaire’s turn. To see his present opened, not to sneak off to swap spit with his boyfriend, which come to think of it sounds infinitely better, and not just because Enjolras’s dedication to self-improvement extends to learning how to kiss Grantaire to the point of incoherence in under five minutes.

Enjolras unwraps the paper carefully and shakes out the fabric. It’s a T-shirt, emblazoned with the words “ENJOLRAS 2024: ARE YOU BRAVE ENOUGH TO CHANGE THE WORLD?”

“For the campaign,” says Grantaire. “I did the math and that’s the first year you can run for president.”

“You need to be thirty-five,” says Enjolras. A smile is flickering at the corner of his mouth.

“I know,” Grantaire tells him. “I looked it up because I had to know the first year I could vote for you. I cracked open my Government textbook for you, so like. Feel honored.”

“We had Government last year,” Enjolras seems to feel compelled to point out. “When did you—”

Grantaire can feel his face burning. He’s not even sure why, really. “Last March,” he says.

“When you first started pretending to date,” Musichetta fills in with relish. Now that it’s public knowledge among their friends, she brings it up whenever she can.

“I thought you were maybe out of your mind,” says Grantaire, “but like. I don’t know. You’re clearly gonna be somebody. And, uh. You had my vote. And still do, obviously.”

Enjolras is turning a little red too. “You should probably see what the other candidates’ positions are before you make that call,” he mumbles.

Grantaire’s heart soars. He shakes his head. “No way, I’m a single-issue voter and my one issue is ‘how much is this guy like Enjolras?’”

Enjolras ducks his head. He lays the T-shirt down carefully, next to the pile of books and notebooks. He opens his arms. Enjolras, who, now that the dating is real, isn’t really about public displays of affection.

“This is so sweet I think I’m going to actually throw up,” says Eponine as Grantaire steps into the hug. He squeezes hard. Enjolras squeezes harder.

“I like you so much,” Enjolras murmurs into the side of his face. “Also, you’re the one who’s out of your mind, nobody just runs for president—”

“Sure,” says Grantaire, “You gotta be twenty-five to run for House of Reps, so 2014’s the first year you’d be eligible. Now, U.S. Senate, you need to be thirty, so you can run in 2018, when it just so happens a seat will be open—”

Enjolras kisses him on the mouth.

#world ain't ready #food mention cw #eXr

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enam3l · 2 years

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my first full little ficlet? or blurb? some lovely fluff of your boy and his new hobby / 1.3k words / sfw

Once Eddie settled into a career and for the first time in his life, had disposable income there was one thing that he spent his money on more than anything... camera film.

You had bought him his first camera for his birthday, wanting to treat him to something special that he'd never let himself buy. But mostly, after everything he'd been through, you wanted him to be able to preserve the new happy memories you were going to make together.

You wanted him to be able to keep mementos of seeing his favourite bands, of Corroded Coffin rehearsals, of the crowds they'd pulled in at gigs, of fun drunk nights your group of friends shared at The Hideout and Steve’s house, or your holidays like the camping trip in California you'd all gone on when you visited Argyle and the trip to New York for your anniversary (which was really an excuse for Eddie to visit CBGBs).

However, these were not the pictures Eddie took.

Well, not really. All these people and places were merely in the background as Eddie insisted that you must be the focus of every picture. No occasion too small or too big, they all required documentation that you had been there. He couldn't help that you were his muse, he would dramatically declare you were the Edie Sedgwick to his Andy Warhol. Edie joined his already long list of nicknames for you. Was Edie your real name? God no. Was it remotely close? Not even slightly.

Standing impatiently by the front door, you waited for Eddie to get ready so you could go to the Sunday market before it closed. After several minutes he appears from your bedroom, infamous camera in hand.

‘Eddie what could you possibly need to take a picture of right now?!’ you scolded him, knowing all too well how this boy was going to delay your plans further.

Shaking his head at your attitude, he calmly explained ‘No baby you don't understand, your outfit right now is fuckin killer. I gotta remember this!’

You're wearing one of his old faded Metallica T-shirts with a satin midi skirt, frankly it was what was clean.

‘Honey, I am literally wearing the first clothes I could find, I just wanted to get out the house so I can make you a meal and not give you Chinese takeout for the third time this week.'

Gathering your shopping bags, you muttered

'When you moved in here, I promised Wayne I'd actually feed you real food. Like actual vegetables and shit!'

‘Alright, alright... but you still look fuckin hardcore. Lucky veggies seeing you like that...’

Now angling his camera at you as you opened the front door he frantically tried to halt your movements.

‘Babe! Stop stop stop! Just wait there, the sun coming through the door is perfect... just turn your head towards me more... mmhmm... oh you can keep that angry look on your face, it's sexy, you're just making my picture better sweetheart'

By the time you got to the market, not a vegetable was left for you to force feed him.

Squealing, you spin around your arms out wide as you take in your surroundings,

'Eddie, we're here! We literally made it to your house of worship!!'

As your gaze returns to your boyfriend, you see exactly where he stands with his camera pointed.

'Why are you taking a picture of me right now?! Don’t aim the camera at me, aim it there! The freaking Ramones carved their names right there!' You point to the piece of iconic music history but Eddie remains unfazed, his eyes and lens laser focused on his favourite icon.

'Yeah well there's four Ramones and only one of you.'

You can't help but smile at his soppy ways however the romantic moment is interrupted as Eddie begins to shoo away an innocent fellow tourist.

‘Sorry Sir could you move out the way? Yeah, I'm just trying to get this picture of my girlfriend… great, thanks man... Okay cool, sorry about that interruption my darling Edie, now just pick up your beer and pose again.’

He proceeded to spend the rest of the vacation only acknowledging the wonders of New York if he could capture you alongside them. Multiple tourists’ days out ruined by Eddie pestering them insisting that his girl was practically supermodel and would’ve made a much better statue than Lady Liberty.

The beautiful moment before you was rudely interrupted by a ring-clad finger poking your ribs and a poor attempt at a whisper in your direction.

‘Psst baby… psst… look at me and lift your bouquet up a little bit.’

Oblivious to the occasion around you both, Eddie stood next to you, camera angled too close for comfort. In horror at his actions, you muster the angriest whisper ever heard

‘Edward! Are you shitting me! Turn your camera away from me this second or so help me…’

Outraged, as if he was the perfect angel Eddie gasped

‘What?! Why!’

Now attempting to discreetly swat at him and half wishing on the seating chart you had sat him at the back of the room with children and toddlers, you chide him

‘Why?! It's our best friends’ wedding. Nancy is literally paying you to photograph her wedding… Oh my god! No! Stop it! Turn it around now, he's putting her ring on! This is like the most important part!’

Thankfully he does as he’s told… for once. As he captures the exchange of rings he timidly whispers to you again

‘...Will you be a runaway bride when I try to take your photo when we're at the alter?’

‘Yes.’

You attempt to put on your sternest voice whilst hoping he doesn’t spot your cheeks blush the same colour as your bridesmaid’s bouquet. Secretly, your more desperate than ever to catch Nancy’s bouquet later on.

After a long work trip, you were finally home. Sick of dreary hotels, you look around to absorb the comfort and warmth of the apartment you’d not long moved into. However, you quickly notice the walls had been filled.

Now hung years of photos carefully arranged into frames. Some in collages. Some arranged into montages. Some standalones. Some with captions like

'My own metal Cindy Crawford at Yosemite.'

You try not to cry as you take them all in, every one of them a memory with you that Eddie felt he had to preserve for eternity. Although, you pray that the photographs you know exist of your more 'intimate' moments did not make it onto the wall. You also hope he got those developed somewhere out of town, you'd rather the spotty teenage boy at Eddie's usual shop did not see photos of what you let Eddie do to you.

Following the walls, you eventually arrive into your bedroom. Now, above your bed are a montage of photos you've never seen before. Arranged in three frames.

The first is you walking down the aisle, towards Eddie behind the camera at the altar.

The second is you sliding a ring onto Eddie's finger as he takes the photo with his other hand.

The third he had turned the camera round to capture the two of you as you kissed for the first time as husband and wife.

On your bedside table in a pretty vase was now the dried and preserved bouquet you caught from Nancy at her wedding.

You had lied. You would never have been a runaway bride.

You knew he'd end up taking photos, it's mainly why you'd made Hopper officiate the wedding. You weren't sure an actual priest would approve of being interrupted by your husband’s camera flash.

Plus, you weren't convinced Eddie could step into a church without bursting into flames anyway.

i loved doing this so much and hope you loved it too!! i am a total sucker for fluffy Eddie! i have lots more stuff coming soon. follow my lil hashtag to see all my Eddie writing and also feel free to request anything. i am open to whatever, as cute or angsty or horny as you want!

#enam3l x eddie #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson #eddie munson headcanons #eddie munson blurb #husband eddie munson #stranger things 4

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thematthewlover · 8 months

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I don’t hate you - Chris Sturniolo pt. 2

pt.1

warnings: Drinking, smoking, smut, cussing, fluff, use of Y/n I think that’s all!

a/n: GUYS HERES PART 2 YIPPIEEE

We arrived at the party and Chris practically ran at the speed of light. “Damn someone’s excited” Nick said. “Yeah no kidding” Y/n responded.

Y/n, Nick, and Matt got into the house that the party was held in and they already saw Chris drinking(GUYS IGNORE THE FACT IM MAKING CHRIS SEEM LIKE A COMPLETE ALCOHOLIC😭) Y/n went to the counter and got herself and Nick a drink. Matt wasn’t drinking or smoking since he had to drive them all home.(don’t drink and drive guys it’s not worth it😔)

Y/n felt Chris’ eyes on her all night, it felt like laser beams. Y/n walked up to Chris and started kissing his neck, Chris then grabbed her wrist and brought her to an empty room.

They soon started kissing as they both started to slowly deepen the kiss their tongues fighting for dominance. Chris won of course so his tongue was exploring every single inch of Y/n’s mouth and she moaned slightly into his mouth from the feeling.

Chris then started kissing down her neck and left a few marks, “Chris you can’t leave marks!” Y/n said. “I gotta let everyone know that you’re mine and mine only” Chris responded.

Chris tugged at Y/n’s shirt “may I?” He asked politely, Y/n nodded. He then ripped hershirt off and unclamped her lacey bra, “so beautiful baby” Chris said, mesmerized by the sight.

Chris took her boobs in his hands and started massaging them and Y/n moaned at his actions.

Chris then tugged at Y/n’s leggings and looked at her, she gave him a reassuring nod saying he could take them off in which he did.

He rubbed his thumb over Y/n’s soaking wet clit from underneath her panties and then ripped them off.

He started pumping his finger in and out of her and she was basically screaming at this point.

“C-chris feels s-so good” Y/n said hardly being able to spit out her words due to the pleasure.

Chris then pulled down his sweats, Y/n could see his bulge pressing on his boxers and could cum just at the sight of it.

Chris ripped off his boxers and lined himself up at Y/n’s entrance.

He slowly pushed himself inside of her, followed by the words “are you ready baby?” “Y-yes Chris” Y/n says.

Chris then starts to violently thrust inside of her. Y/n feelings more pleasure than she ever has before.

“C-chris! I need t-to cum!” Y/n says in between moans, “Me too baby, let it all out cum on my cock!” Chris grants her permission.

Y/n let’s put her orgasm as Chris does the same, Chris then still slowly thrusting in and out of her riding out his high.

He then goes to get a warm wet towel to clean off Y/n and make sure to clean himself off too.

Chris gets into the bed next to Y/n and she snuggles her head into his chest.

“I don’t hate you” Chris says to Y/n.

a/n2: GUYS IM SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG IVE BEEN BUSY😭

SEND ME REQUESTS!

#chris sturniolo #y/n #matt sturniolo #sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #nick sturniolo

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sleepdeprivedsimp234 · 1 year

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~Wholesome New York headcanons~ (maybe I’ll throw some angst in there for fun~)

=======================================================================

-Sometimes if York and Mass, or one the other people he secretly doesn’t mind being around, are just chilling in a room together, he will stare at the other person and just- make this weird little chirp/yip sound at them and it’s the cutest thing ever.

Sometimes the other person’ll make the sound back, or they might just look up from whatever they were doing and give him a smile or confused look.

-it is a universal agreement that York is essentially a cat in human/personification form. He purrs, he scratches/bites people he doesn’t like, he likes climbing on stuff, he has the mf attitude, he curls up in a little ball whenever he decides to sleep or relax, and he has 100% followed a laser pointer with his eyes before

-he really enjoys watching South Park and his favorite characters are Stan and Kenny

-York rambles a lot and gets really excited if it’s a subject that he actually enjoys without knowing it and when he realizes how "over-excited" he’s being, he stops because he thinks that the others will think it’s weird and/or freaky, when in truth most of the others think it’s endearing.

And those that think it’s weird know to keep their mouths shut unless they never want to see the light of day again.

-one of the reasons he got bullied in school growing up was because of how ridiculously skinny he is, when it wasn’t even his fault that he was the way he was. York is literally unable to gain weight no matter what. So ofc he was kinda insecure about his body for a while, but his brothers all helped him through it and now he’s doing much better. Still can’t gain weight, but he is definitely more confident in himself :)

As for the people that bullied him about it along with other things, let’s just say… they ain’t gonna ever mess with him again :]

-despite him being 5’10, he is a victim of having his beanie pulled over his eyes and being picked up out of nowhere by some of the other states

-HAPPY STIMS HAPPY STIMS HAPPY STIMS-

His happy stims consist of: hand flapping, flicking his fingers, fidgeting with random objects such as his rings and zipper (tho this also kind of a anxious stim sometimes), for some reason he will scratch his hand with knowing it (again, sometimes an anxious stim) but his friends and family always stop him from doing this before he hurts himself and lastly, biting his tongue, which is usually stopped as well (Forgive me, I don’t know to much about this stuff 😭👍)

-one of the reasons that this boi will not wear suits is because his brothers are secretly worried that he will accidentally tighten his tie too much and harm himself if he gets too nervous

-he is beyond touch-starved, so if somebody hugs him, he will literally melt into the touch. One time, Florida decided to hug him and nearly put the poor thing to sleep

-just for fun, Texas and Alaska have started picking him up at random times of the day as if he were Simba and it’s both cute and hilarious because he will kick and try to burrow closer to their chests cuz he is now either 6’4 or 7’2 feet in the air and just ain’t doin’ this sh*t

-I believe that I have mentioned this before, but he has a giant scar from a certain event in 2001 that wraps around from the top of his right shoulder, across his back, to the front of his upper left hip, and he is very insecure about it. And I’ve now decided that if he is cuddling with someone that he is comfortable with (a very rare occurrence-), such as one of his brothers, the other person will trace the scar with their fingers through his shirt/hoodie/jacket and tell him how loved and amazing he is and how bad*$$ the scar is.

And this poor baby will just be hiding his blushing face in their chest or pillows/blankets because he doesn’t know how to process the kind words and affection he is receiving 🥺🥺

-York is one of the jumpiest people you’ll ever meet and he gets jumpscared so easily. Sometimes one of his brothers or friends will come up behind him and grab his sides to scare him

-he doesn’t laugh to often, but when he does, it is so f(speaks Midwest)in’ adorable. His laugh varies from squeaky, child-like, honey-sweet giggles to high pitched fox laughs, and it’s really cute, but it’s also not really the type of thing you wanna hear when taking a walk in the forest.

-mans has definitely gotten weed from Colorado and airdropped his conscience to a world that ain’t our own.

-York’s hair is probably one of the fluffiest things to ever exist

Also there’s a picture that I drew of my temporary design for Yorkie <3

=======================================================================

#welcome to the statehouse #welcome to the table #wttt new york #ben brainard #aahhhhh I love him sm #he is so precious #he is best boi #we stan our rat man 😤✊

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remlos · 1 year

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remlo as pet owners

it's entirely possible that they would own either a cat or a little puppy (or both)

the dog and cat in question

the dynamic would be so different for each one but one thing is certain and it's that arlo and the animals will be competing with each other for remi's attention

arlo sleeping on the couch with a cat curled up on his lap <3

remi going out for afternoon runs with their dog <33

with the dog arlo will have it learn every single trick in the book and have it going on daily runs

with the cat it would be chilling while arlo reads another self help book

them trying to have their dalmations 101 scene where they have the dog run while they couples bike 😭

remi entertaining the cat by having it chase a fly-fishing toy or the laser point tool and have the cat run around everywhere trying to catch it

arlo will be malewifing and trying to bake something and then there's a cat dashing all over the cutting board and sending vegetables flying everywhere

their dog will be disciplined as fuck bc arlo refuses to let it run wild and be a public nuisance like those owners who let their dogs act up whenever they run into another dog

but under remi's jurisdiction it would be completely unhinged and jump him affectionately (he gets grossed out every time)

arlo: "we need order over here" so in public their dog is the model of good behavior

he is so proud of the dog as he is able to go on walks with it unleashed and everyone is amazed, plays it off like its no biggie "literally every dog in europe is capable of doing this"

but he can't stop it from pouncing on him whenever he comes home

the cat meanwhile will just jump on the table and there is nothing to be done about that

the dog leaping into bed with remlo 😭 remi doesn't gaf and starts cuddling the dog

arlo hates it because fur gets everywhere and it gets in the middle of them (lowkey he loves it why lie)

arlo sticking his head out from underneath the blankets and the cat popping out right after him

arlo and the cat will be so petty 😭 whenever arlo does something the cat doesn't like it'll start knocking pans off of the countertops

he'll pull it off of the counter and its super pissed bc he's immune to it scratching

remi refuses to let arlo put the cat in his place

she takes it from him like "you're so harsh for NO reason" when she turns around the cat sticks its tongue out at him over her shoulder (their reverse tom and jerry dynamic)

arlo as tom and the cat as jerry

they have a hate-love relationship where arlo cannot keep the cat's name out of his mouth when talking shit but they are inseperable around the house

remi picks up knitting and the cat suffers immensely whenever she pulls it into one of her signature yarn sweaters that could double as a straitjacket

arlo and the dog dual waiting for remi to get home from work

as soon as she unlocks the door the dog is onto her immediately meanwhile arlo hovers around the doorway, she's like. just join us and stop acting like you were doing something else

remi goes out to petco all the time and buys those crazy treats that look like baked human goods

arlo makes the dog do at least 5 tricks before it can even get a fration of a morsel of the treat meanwhile remi spoils the hell out of it and sneaks it extra when arlo is not around

remi would buy those poor animals jorts and a t-shirt so its up to arlo to assemble their society-friendly fits

the dog instantly goes to remi for treats and pets meanwhile the cat jumps onto arlo like a baby bc it knows he won't try to make it dance or recreate silly cat videos

remi has a dogstagram that is spam-updated every thirty minutes to her own insta having posts every other day

#remlo headcanons #remlo #arlo x remi #remi x arlo #unordinary arlo #unordinary remi #unordinary #unordinary webtoon #remlo as pet owners

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untilthenextencore · 1 year

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"Nights To Remember Ch. 3: Bright Lights, Big City, Dark Sylph, Dark Lord~..."

Bright lights, big city. Taillights & headlights. Children of the sun. Suntanned skin & brown bottled beer. And a curvy, dusky skinned sylph a bit too dressy for such casual surroundings heading into the blues pumping nightclub. Cutting a swath through the milling crowd. Bathed in a pinkish glow from the neon curved lights announcing to the world the humble haven at which they, along with Robert & co had found themselves: The Chuco.

A reference to the Pachucos, zoot suiters that a lot of its denizens were birthed to or had otherwise in their family.

The first teddy boys in a way, Robert thought, right down to the flashy clothes & slicked back hair. Some of the kids still sported that "greaser" aka teddy boy look. Though Robert knew well enough to steer away from the former term & used the latter. He recognized the look anyway. Right down to the cuffed jeans & white t-shirts with the rolled up sleeves that had the cigarette packets & matchbook tucked inside.

He had attempted such a look in his youth. In those heady early days. When rock'n'roll first shook him, and blues first seduced him away. Astray.

Astray.

Astray is apparently how he continued to stay. How else would he find himself here? At a small nightclub away from the rest. Away from all others. But Magnet.

And her.

Magnet he saw chatting up a pretty, petite young thing against a nearby wall.

That just left him. And her. And about a few tens of other kids around them. But in his mind they all but disappeared. All blurring into a Renoir like smudgy frame for his gaze. Myopic as ever. Single-minded. Laser focused. His view. His vision. The vision.

Her.

She was bathed in light. A pink light. Blushing violet pink. The shade was a near perfect match to the signage outside. It lit her & everyone else in the room. Making them look like the denizens of one of those pulpy romance comics. All dark features & strawberry light. All dark features except for him. Which, despite his better nature, only served to have him further feel like the protagonist in one of those pulpy romances.

All dark features. And strawberry light. All he saw then was dark features & a figure lit by strawberry light. From the club's tinted lighting, yes. From the rose colored glasses Robert always seemed to sport- especially regarding her - also yes. But also from within.

She lit up.

She came alive here.

She was incandescent.

Her eyes sparkled. Glittered. Shone really. Her mask of previously remote features now fully removed if not shattered. Now her lips curved in the proudest gleaming grin.

She raised her arms in exultation, releasing a cry of exultation from deep within. One which ended up being a cry of call and response. As many around her responded with a similar cry in return.

Thankfully she was far enough ahead - while of course still remaining well in Robert's sight - that no one around them let out any other screams at Robert's striding his 6 foot, blonde, white, English country boy self inside.

Indeed he saw some glimmers of recognition, disbelief, then outright confusion. He could read their features like a book. A silent movie at play before him.

Is it him?

It is!

Why the fuck would he be here?

There's no way!

Little did they know.

There was a way.

One way.

Her.

Robert took a beer Magnet gave him in passing. He then noted with his first sip, that Magnet as he passed, was currently flitting on his way to another girl still with the first in tow. Three's company. His kinda company clearly. Clearly hopeful that a threesome was on the way.

Classic Magnet.

Upon taking this beer, Robert raised it to those eyes of recognition. A toast. In return, he pressed a finger to his lips & gave a conspiratorial smile. Thankfully, miraculously, this seemed to be enough to quell any tongues that might've been set a-wag by his arrival. Smiles were returned. Nods & cheers with their drinks in return. A few blown kisses by some young lovelies.

And it was then that even though Robert found his "cover blown," so to speak, he found himself in the clear.

With his way now clear, Robert made his way to Dahlia. She had hugged a few old friends in warm, enthusiastic greeting, chattering animatedly in a quick catch-up. Catching them as she was arriving & they were leaving. After waving goodbye, she then strolled over to the bar, picking up a beer & taking a swig herself as her bent elbow rested on the bartop she leaned back into.

As Robert approached, the soundtrack of sorts, incidental music, continued to tease him in a way that seemed anything but incidental, accidental, or by happenstance. This time, it was Junior Walker & his All Stars.

"What does it take…

(What does it take)...

To win your love for me?...

(To win your love for me)...

How can I make…

(How can I make)...

This dream come true for me…"

He reached out in what seemed like slow motion. Reaching for the vision in raspberry light. Strawberry light. A brilliant smile that seared itself into his mind at first glance. A lyrical laugh that rang out above the clinking beer bottles & trickled over him like the lightest, sweetest waterfall. And silken, tawny skin that burned him alive simultaneously as his fingers slid across her velvet soft hand. The one without the ring.

Her eyes cut over to him. Her gaze at first flickered in confusion before alighting in recognition, smile back to full strength. She mimicked the song then playing in her greeting.

"Hello, stranger." She then added yet another one of her light, playful teases. "Long time no see." Clinking bottles with him, she continued. "I was wondering when you were gonna amble your way in."

"Ah…"

For once in his life, Robert struggled for a snappy line.

So he scrambled for the closest thing.

A grin curved his lips, easier than he felt inside. "Well I can't very well leave you to the wolves now can I?" His delivery wasn't as smooth as he'd have liked, alas. His voice shook slightly. Hopefully she just took that for barely checked laughter.

As it turned out, she took it in stride. It barely checked. It barely registered.

"Wolves?" Dahlia tossed her head back in a laugh of her own. "What wolves?" Motioning to all that was around them, she stated proudly. "This? This is family! We're among family here, Planty! Don't you see? Can't you tell? We're home!"

Home.

Home indeed.

For her.

Dahlia, the girl from East LA. Hometown girl. Local girl made good. Just as her historian father Alberto Dominguez-Alvarez was a local man made good. His books and scholarly lectures and presentations were full of their glory days, both past & present.

Children of the sun.

Chucos.

Chicanos.

He'd caught one of those presentations & lectures in Birmingham in his Pre-Zeppelin days. That's where he got Alberto's books. That's where he got a primer on Mexican culture. Pre-Columbian & current. On Mexican youth. Past & present. On her.

Her father had used her pictures as an example - if a rather self-indulgent one - of modern Mexicanidad. Mentioning her then current early enrollment in UCLA.

There was a collage of pictures of her with her acceptance letter. In a brown beret uniform in East LA where they hailed from. In her Quince dress from the society page. In a button down & jeans in the slightly more upmarket part of LA the family had then moved to. In a classic, demure dress in Mexico. Using her as an example of possibility, of accomplishment, of their multifacetedness. All in one.

Later, he admitted when questioned that yes, she had been in the Sunset Strip curfew protests that some had termed riots. But he stressed that they were protests. And social engagement, community engagement was not a crime and should not be considered a crime due to a difference in melanin between the protestors themselves or between them & those they were protesting against. A knowing reference to the Civil Rights Movement.

Neither Alberto nor Robert had no idea how prescient those words were. He would later. Later. Later when Dahlia showed pictures of both herself & her father in the East LA walkouts, backing up people back home. Backing up friends. Backing up family.

And again at the Chicano Moratorium.

One of the few Zeppelin gigs she had missed she missed on purpose, flying into LA to take part while they did a gig. She headed back to East LA where her family had moved back to by then. Ready to support. To protest. To be heard. The pics she later showed them showed them looking hopeful. Proud. Expectant.

That was before, due to unforseen circumstances, things went left that day. Dark. Deadly. Black.

As soon as he heard, Pagey was on the phone. Peter too. As soon as he heard from Dahlia herself - thankfully safe at home & able to take the call - that she & her family were fine, Pagey had her fly back out to meet them on their next stop on the next available flight. Pagey had her in his arms. Locked in his room with him. Grant assigned them - her really - a bodyguard, under his, Jimmy's & honestly everyone's agreement.

Saying another silent prayer for Ruben Salazar, the one casualty that day, and any others affected, Robert decided to shake the darkness from his mind.

He allowed himself to be pulled back into the light.

Pink light.

Raspberry light.

Strawberry light.

Warm light.

Her light.

He saw his teen self in his mind's eye as he was then at the presentation. Gawking at the pictures. She was bleeding beautiful. Two years younger than him. Where did they make birds like that? Brains and beauty. Dusky skinned determination. Heaven-sent & hip as hell. LA? East LA? Right then and there, he pledged that if he ever made it to the States, he had to go there, wherever that was. Los Angeles, he knew. How far east he'd have to go, he didn't.

What he also didn't know at that time - not until much later - was just how close just such a girl was to him then. Not just such a girl. That girl exactly. For the time was spring 1967, and not only was Alberto in England.

But so was Dahlia.

Alberto, of course, was lecturing Robert & others in the north in Birmingham.

Meanwhile, Dahlia at the time - as he would later find out - was staying southward in London.

She had left the hotel room her father had gotten her, leaving her to study for a paper she was going to do on English History as he traveled about. The hotel room then stood mostly empty. Instead, she saw fit to stay with another attendee of one of her father's lectures that he'd given in London before coming up north.

A friend.

A penpal.

An on again off again budding potential love & beau.

On Shooter's Hill.

In Pangbourne.

With one who would later - now - be his songwriting partner & close friend.

Yes.

With one James Patrick Page.

There she was holeing up with him. Hitting up his local haunts with him. Scotch of St. James in between her studies. Granny Takes a Trip between corrections of one draft's grammar most likely. Giving herself to him for the first time. First of many. First of many on that trip he figured as well. Knowing Pagey. In the car if he had one. In the boat. In the boathouse. Every bleeding where in the boathouse. Again knowing Pagey, Robert figured there was hardly a surface in the place, down to the couch he sat on that first day when he came down, that hadn't been so christened that time in '67.

Granny's, the Scotch, in bed (and other places) with a dusky, driven & foreign little brunette dish. All the places Robert could then only dream of being.

Now he had his dusky brunette by way of Maureen. But she was back home with the kids. And he'd had others since then. Plenty others. Many others. He even had several around him that day.

All his focus went to only one though.

One that was off limits.

Very decidedly off limits.

The one that was closest to him funny enough.

Or as Brenton Wood sang then.

"I run after you...

Like a fool would do...

But mama didn't raise no fool...

And I should know...

That baby you got it...

That's all I can say to you..."

Brenton even seemed to see in her what he did.

"You got soul, too much soul...

Foxy clothes, the cutest nose...

The greatest shape...

There's nothing fake about you...

Baby you got it..."

But when Brenton continued, Robert felt it once again hit too close for his liking.

"My friends say no can be...

You're not the girl for me..."

Bullseye!

Try as he might to distract himself with another sip of his beer, the next song was no better.

"Just pull them little strings...

And I'll sing you a song...

I'm your puppet...

Make me do right or make me do wrong...

I'm your puppet...

Treat me good and I'll do anything...

I'm just a puppet and you hold my string...

I'm your puppet...

Your walking, talking, kissing loving puppet...

I'm hanging on a string...

I'll do anything, love you 'n' kiss ya..."

"Here…" Dahlia snapped him out of his thoughts. He looked down. A peace offering. Another bottle of beer to replace his now drained one.

Another clink.

"Cheers." She locked eyes with him, pursed lips grinning behind her bottle.

"Why won't you...

Take a chance on me...

And let me show you...

How wonderful to love can really be...

I can love you for all eternity...

Take a chance on me..."

God damn it if it wasn't Brenton Wood again summing it all up again.

"Dahlia…" He breathed her name in more of a sigh than he wanted to allow at that point. Her name always sounded like a sigh. Always. From day one. From the first day he heard it. A sigh. A dreamy sigh. To him. From others. And most importantly from him.

"What is it, Robert?" She slid her hand over his, giving a gentle squeeze again like she had in the car. "You feeling alright?"

That voice.

That hand.

That silken skin.

That touch.

That tenderness.

A tenderness that was always so apparent in her.

A gentility amidst her all-encompassing warmth that ranged from the flickering of a flame, dancing & playful like the mirthful light that shone in her eyes to molten, incandescent, torrid & sizzling. It scorched him. Seared him. Searing him deep within. Burned him. Burned within him. Burned him inside out. Made him feel feverish.

And again, the song playing around them said it all.

"The touch of you (baby, baby, the touches from you)...

Is drivin' me out of my head, oh, boy (baby, baby, out of my head)...

What a touch from a little hand can do (can do)...

Especially coming from you…

Turn my life all around (all around)...

I can't seem to settle down…

Oh, baby…"

"Dahlia, I…" He started before he even knew what he was going to say.

Thankfully…

Mercifully…

He was cut off before he could figure out much more to say.

Both by a random lad in an awed hush. "Holy fuck! Now there's two of them, dude! Am I seeing things?"

But no…

He wasn't…

The lad wasn't seeing things…

Because there he stood in the doorway. All six feet of PreRaphaelitic glamour. A brooding Black Irish English stallion. The dragon. The "Dark Lord" himself.

Or as Dahlia gasped, trotting over to him excitedly.

"Baby!"

James Patrick Page.

Count on him to make his entrance to a song with a twangy guitar intro.

Of course he would.

Jimmy extended his arms, welcoming Dahlia in his embrace with a smile. He hugged her tight. Warmly. Protectively. He mumbled something to her to which Dahlia nodded. Pressing a kiss to her hair, her forehead & lifting her chin, then her lips, he claimed her. Sealing it with a kiss. Or three.

And as ever, Robert was left with the unintentional soundtrack summing it up for him.

"Love...

Love is strange...

Lot of people...

Take it for a game..."

Hope y'all enjoy~!...

As ever, this is forever under construction~...

#untilthenextencore #jimmy page fanfic #jimmy page fanfiction #jimmy page fan fic #jimmy page fan fiction #led zeppelin fanfic #led zeppelin fanfiction #led zeppelin fan fic #led zeppelin fan fiction #robert plant fanfic #robert plant fanfiction #robert plant fan fiction #robert plant fan fic #Spotify #nights to remember fic

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