#maybe i should just watch movies hes been in....the natural progression for me i think . ..

[todayisafridaynight]

we heard of the tokugawa song sung by mine's va (shidou nakamura ii) but have we heard of the one where mine's va sings as saigo takamori cause i think thats just great

[flusteredtuna]

YES, CHEF!

Carmen Berzzato“The Bear” x !fem! reader

Contains: ( 18+ Mature Only ) praise, first kiss, head, and x-men movie.

Words: 2k+

Summary: Carmen, a good friend, shows up unexpectedly at your door late at night. Tipsy. And things obviously take a turn as he sobers up and you learn the true nature of his visit. ( no under the influence… do not fret )

I used a scene from Netflix’s series ‘Good Girls’ season 4 episode 6, as a main plot point and used the begging dialogue. I won’t name the scene as to not spoil the show ( it’s not a big plot point and the fanfic does not spoil it either. ) you can watch the clip here.

This was written for a friend 💕 ( and i had to repost due to an error ) This is also the second fan-fiction I have ever completed, so enjoy.

It’s a relaxing Saturday evening in your quaint charming little apartment on the third floor. Warm lighting, antique cabinet, quilted blanket covering your lap, and a warm homemade mug of Earl Grey tea in your hand as you read your book.

knock. knock. KNOCK.

A heavy and lazy hand knocks on your landlord’s special white front door. It’s 10 p.m., who could be knocking on the door? You un-tuck yourself from your spot on the couch and with tea in hand, you head toward the door and open it.

It’s Carmen. You’ve been friends for about a year now, friends with feelings for half that time. You met through a mutual friend, one who works at his restaurant. The relationship between you two is close and has only gotten closer with having the same friend group. But even with the tension in the room during every group hangout, he’s never made a move. And neither have you. Maybe it’s because of his girlfriend. Who didn’t show up to game nights.

And yet here he is, making an unexpected visit to your apartment.

“This isn’t my house,” he says. He smells of beer and is definitely not sober. Both his arms hold his body up as he leans in your doorframe.

“Hey yourself…” your face is twisted with confusion. Carmy never came over, at least not by himself. “Are you…tipsy? Fried? any other word for not sober?” You try to figure him out enough to make him go away before it turns into something else.

He chuckles a bit, “Just a bit buzzed”.

“Why are you in my doorway, Carmen?” You lean against the open door.

“I was at the bar, with friends. Karaoke bar.” He huffs as he finishes his sentence which seems hard to get out of his mouth.

“I don’t even know who to feel sorry for there” you respond. A look of worry mixed in with your confusion.

You stare at each other for what feels like the longest five seconds of your life. His mouth hung open a little.

“I can’t be with her anymore” You wince at his words and your heart drops to your toes. Did he just say that? Has he told her?

“You should go home,” trying to prevent something from progressing.

“I don’t want to go home” he quickly responds

“Then you should go somewhere else” You grab the door leaning away, ready to close it on him. Although you don’t want to, you know you should.

“Can I uh- just please come in?” Starting to close the door he pushes back a bit “No, Carmy. Please trust me, just go home.” He places a firm hand on the door and abruptly says, “I think I’m gonna crap myself.”

You stop and look at him. It’s unbelievable that this is what made you stop. You swing the door open and do the same with your other arm, gesturing to him to enter. He walks in, and heads for the bathroom.

Setting your tea down you sit on the couch waiting for him to come back, you try to think of anything else other than the fact that Carmen is in your home. Possibly with the intention of cheating on his girlfriend with you. Attempting to stare at the patchy rug to find some sort of escape. The goal now was to just make sure he didn’t do anything crass.

He walks out of the bathroom and immediately slumps himself on the floor against the couch right next to you. “I wouldn’t go in there for at least 30 minutes.”

Raising your brows and giggling, “Feeling any better?”

Carmen doesn’t even look at you, he just looks straight on. “Not really.” He rubs his hands together.

“I broke up with Sarah.” He says quietly. Yet another string of words that makes your heart drop.

“Oh, I’m sorry.” You try to be reassuring but you’re not sure how to be in this situation. “Do you want to talk about it?” Carmen looks at you, his eyes glossy from his buzz.

“Nah.” You tilt your head at him and then look over at the TV, catching the slight reflection of your two figures lounging on the comfy yellow couch. “Do you want to watch something?”

Carmen’s nods face towards the black screen of the TV, and you reach for the remote to turn something on. “X-men?” you suggest as he gets up and sits on the other end of the couch. One person’s width away from you.

“X-Men it is.” He slurs his words a bit as he gestures to the TV with a hand and flops it back down in his lap. Turning on the movie, you make yourself comfortable by shifting your legs to bend and your feet resting on the middle cushion, pulling the blanket over you. Even with him sitting glued to the arm of the other end, you both are still somehow too close.

As the movie passes, the tension stands. Seeing each other glancing out of the corner of their eyes now and then doesn’t help. Finally, Carmey opens up a bit and starts to comment on the movie, “You know, I don’t know why they cast Evan Peters for this when he plays that other guy in that Wanda show. Fuckin’ stupid.” He sounds more like himself now, which eases the tension, making this situation a little more comfortable.

“Yeah I think there’s a theory about that,” You both continue to talk throughout the movie, he seems to sober up. It’s nice hanging out with him like this. Although the circumstances aren’t 100% preferred, you don’t seem to mind it anymore.

The movie ended with you both laughing at a conversation completely unrelated. Whatever it was it was something way more entertaining to both of you. So long of a conversation that the credits end. You both look over to the screen again. A prompt asking “How would you rate this film?”.

“Well, I guess it ended.” You chuckle a bit but look over at him, seemingly back in his head again. Maybe you shouldn’t have said that.

Now sitting up against the arm of the couch and crossing your legs, you feel like you should say something.

“You know the best wa-“ he interrupts you “I broke up with her so I could see you.”

Your eyes meet as he looks over to you, now sitting up a bit more. “Carmy I-“ interrupting you again “Y/N, I don’t want you to feel guilty or anything. I know this is a lot,” he puts a hand to his temple and starts to get a little more passionate in his speech. Almost defensive. “Shit. I just couldn’t see you without leaving and not feel fuckin’ guilty!” His hand gestures around as he speaks, like he’s in the kitchen talking to his staff.

“Carmen!” You try to steer the conversation away from him getting louder, “Why would you feel guilty?” You know the answer to that.

He rests a hand on his lap and his other on his temple again. Releasing a deep exhale, he looks at you. “Maybe I wanted to uh-,” he hesitates for a moment to look you up and down. “Feel something…else.”

You can feel the flush rushing to your cheeks so quickly after he says this. With wide eyes and raised brows, you try to pull out your best response, “Feel what? Pressed about…Marvel casting?”

He chuckles and moves a smidge towards you, putting a bent leg up on the couch, “No no no. no. Jesus. That, that’s ridiculous.” You smile a bit at his amusement, “Then what is it, Carmy?”

Rubbing his face and letting out another huff, he sounds like he’s holding back. And you aren’t sure if you want him to keep it bottled or release it.

Continuing to look at you with starry eyes, he rests an arm on the back of the couch. “Fuck. Look. I don’t want to be too forward and I definitely don’t want to make you uncomfortable,” You press your lips together in anticipation of what he’s about to say, “It’s something that I’ve felt for a while and I’ve been fucking ignoring it.” He pauses again and takes another huff, taking a look at the door. “I should just go.”

As he gets up you grab his wrist, stopping him dead in his tracks. “Carmy,” his eyes soften as he looks at you, “you don’t need to leave.”

As you let go of his wrist he sits next to you, closer. “It’s kind of obvious.” You chuckle a bit through your words. It is obvious. You’ve noticed this tension for a while now, he’s only just confirming it.

“What is? That I like you?” His tone is almost defensive like he was caught. A smile creeps on your face, “I mean…Marcus has noticed it too.” He raises his brows, surprised. “He said the tension is thicker than his dark chocolate mousse.” Carmen laughs at this, and so do you. It’s a sweet moment.

He pushes his hair back from falling more in his face, “I uh, I’m sorry I showed up like this.”

“If you mean showing up drunk at my door to use my bathroom and then sobering up while watching X-men with me…” You make it sound like a bigger deal than it is just to tease him.

“No yea, shit. I’m sorry I-”

“Then it’s more than fine.” Laughing again, like you are the only two people in the world. You both exchange a smile looking deeper into each other’s eyes.

“You’ve always had a nice laugh.” He says putting his arm back on the couch, and leaning in a bit.

“You do too.” It all feels like a dream. The fact that he’s here, making a move on you.

He brushes a strand of hair out of your face, so effortlessly, that you wish you could stay in that moment forever.

You look away for a moment, clearly a bit flustered, “Are you sure you aren’t still tipsy?” turning back you notice he’s gotten a little closer.

“I’m positive I’m sober.” He chuckles again.

You start to lean in a bit, not realizing that you have until your noses are about five inches apart from one another. His hand was still near your face, resting on the back of the couch beside you.

Looking at your lips he begins to say, “I uh. Just-”. He doesn’t even finish his thought. He’s too distracted by his lips on yours.

It was a soft kiss, one you’ve been waiting for, for the longest time. Pulling back you find his hand on your cheek caressing it. “You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting to do that.” He says, with a breath of relief that the hard part was over.

Jaw dropped, you look at his mouth again. He catches this and charges at you for another kiss, this time more intense. You hold both of his cheeks in hopes of him staying put. He almost hovers over you as you both continue to make out.

Soft and quiet moans escape your mouth as he reaches down one of his hands to feel the sides of your arms. Then tracing back up to your cheek. He pulls back. Your lips burn with sensation.

“Carmen,” the words escape your mouth through heavy breathing, “are you sure this is okay.”

He puts a hand to your chin, “Yes.” he kisses your cheek. “I wanna take care of you.” Your brain swarms with ideas of what he could mean.

You smile in approval while taking his free hand and putting it to your breast. He smirks as he follows his hand and where it landed. “Then take care of me.”

With a firm squeeze, he touches you through your shirt, while he moves his face towards your neck and kisses it. He takes his time reaching under your shirt to explore you with more satisfaction.

Caressing your nipple with his pointer and his thumb, already making you weak. And he watches as your face curls in pleasure.

Carmen then lifts your shirt to sit just above your breasts and kisses the center, making his way over the hill of your other breast and biting the peak. It makes you gasp. He puts a hand under the curve of your other breast and messages it.

Your soft moans only make him want you more.

He moves away for a moment, and you open your eyes to watch him, “wha- what is it.” He smirks and lifts the blanket you’re under, just enough to reach his arm in to place a hand on the side of your thigh. Scooting closer he leans over you now slouched on the couch.

Suddenly you’re kissing again, passionately. He feels your thigh up and down gripping it, then moving to the inside. Parting your legs he reaches a hand up from the bottom of your shorts, under your panties to grab your hip. Like it’s his. Then firmly and slowly sliding it back out.

“Take… them off.” You whisper through kisses. Pulling away he smiles and looks at your drowsy eyes. Without saying anything he lifts the blanket further and now using both his hands he tugs on your waistband, taking away the sleep boxers you had been wearing.

Touching you again in that spot that’s so sensitive, he teases you. Denying the pleasure of having the fabric between you and his fingers, out of the way. Your moans continue, still soft, as he caresses you further. The intensity builds as your lips meet again.

Backing away, he lifts the blanket once more, but now going in head first. Your heart drops, you know exactly what he has in mind.

With his head between your thighs he kisses your soft spot, and then taking both his hands on either side of your drawers, he pulls them off revealing you.

Carmen uses his fingers to carefully open you up like a flower, kissing the bud. He’s so gentle that you do feel like you’re being taken care of.

But then you suddenly feel another sensation. His tongue is on you. Swirling around. It makes you moan louder as your back arches. Ribs reaching for the sky. You grab onto the couch to try and ground yourself, but it doesn’t help much.

“You’re so wet for me.” He feasts upon you and now takes two of his fingers and plays with your entrance, spreading your wetness around like butter on a hot skillet. His free arm is wrapped around your thigh, holding on tight to keep you steady.

As he tastes you more and more. The finest dish. You lift your end of the blanket with the small strength you have and watch his head back away from your clit to look at you as he puts two fingers inside you. He starts to push them in and out of you and you throw your head back moaning in absolute hot delight.

“Look at me.” His demand is so dominating. Again, sounding like he’s in the kitchen.

“Make me.” You say through a heavy moan. He pulls his fingers out making you gasp grabbing your chin and pulling your face down to meet his eyes. “Yes, Chef”. He chuckles a bit, letting you get away with that one. You knew he might be thinking about that during his next shift.

You watch as he goes back down, shoving his fingers back inside. Gripping the couch once again louder moans escape your mouth. Picking up his pace you can feel him hitting your walls in the best way. “Fuck, Carmy…” You manage to moan out.

The closer you get the more you surrender to his pace as it gets faster. Your body clenches around him, making it tighter and tighter for him. “Cum for me.”

You nod your head rapidly as you’re too stimulated by the pleasure. Your back arches even further and you become stiff in your position as he hits the spot so perfectly. This is what you’ve been waiting for. The peak of your gratification inches closer and closer.

Finally…you gasp in ecstasy, his fingers still inside you pounding. “That’s it.” He whispers moving away from eating you out, to just using his fingers. Watching you as you finish on them.

Carmen pulls his fingers out slowly, watching your overstimulated body heave heavy breaths. He scoots your legs to the side to lie beside you on the couch. Between catching up with your lungs you manage to speak. “Carmen, you…” You take a clarifying breath as he props himself up on his arm, looking at you as he lays beside you. “You’re really good at that.”

He chuckles, “Of course I am, I eat for a living.” He tucks your hair away behind your ear, and you both take a moment to be present as your tummy buzzes with butterflies.

[hornyforherbert]

Stay, if you want. (Justin Herbert) ✧

Prompt 25. Stay, if you want too

CW: Fluff

WC: 1498

"I really should be going," I said, my voice barely above a whisper. I stole a glance at Justin, and my heart skipped a beat at his earnest gaze. Justin's brown eyes locked onto mine, and he took a step closer. "Or..." he started, his voice trailing off as he looked down at the ground for a moment.

"Or what?" I prodded, unable to hide the curiosity in my voice. Justin took a deep breath and looked back up at me. "Or you can stay if you want to," he said softly, his eyes searching mine for any sign of agreement. My pulse quickened, and I felt a warmth spreading through me. "Stay?" I repeated, the word feeling foreign on my tongue. "Yeah, stay," Justin confirmed, a hint of uncertainty in his voice. "I mean, if you want to, of course. I just thought it might be nice to spend a little more time together."

I couldn't help but smile at his awkward charm. "I'd like that," I said, surprising myself with the sudden confidence in my voice. Justin's face broke into a relieved grin, and he motioned toward the couch.

"Great. Let's watch a movie, or we could order some food. Whatever you're in the mood for." "A movie sounds perfect," I replied, feeling a surge of excitement at the prospect of spending more time with Justin.

As Justin sorted through his collection of DVDs, I admired the cozy decor of his living room. Soft throw pillows adorned the plush couch, and warm, earthy tones filled the space, creating an inviting atmosphere. "How about this one?" Justin asked, holding up a classic romcom. "It's a bit cheesy, but in a good way." I chuckled and nodded. "Cheesy is perfect, especially on a cozy evening like this."

We settled onto the couch, and Justin hit play on the remote. The opening credits rolled, and I nestled into the cushions, feeling relaxed and content in Justin's company. As the movie progressed, I found myself stealing glances at Justin. His focused gaze on the screen, the way he chuckled at the funny moments, and the soft furrow of his brow during the emotional scenes—it all made my heart flutter.

“I can grab some snacks if you'd like," Justin offered during a brief pause in the movie. "Or maybe some popcorn?" "Popcorn sounds great," I agreed, feeling a surge of fondness for Justin's considerate nature. Justin nodded and slipped off the couch, making his way to the kitchen. The sounds of cabinets opening and the hum of the microwave filled the air, adding a cozy rhythm to the evening. As he returned with a heaping bowl of popcorn, I grinned in appreciation.

“You're a mind reader," I teased, reaching for a handful of the warm, buttery snack. Justin chuckled and settled back onto the couch, our arms brushing against each other as we shared the popcorn. With the movie coming to a close, I felt a sense of reluctance at the thought of leaving. The comfortable silence between Justin and me seemed too perfect to disrupt.

"So, what did you think?" Justin asked, casting a sideways glance in my direction. "The movie was great," I replied, finding myself lost in Justin's gaze once more. Justin's lips curved into a gentle smile, and he shifted his position, facing me more directly. "I'm really glad you decided to stay," he said, his voice carrying a hint of vulnerability. I felt a jolt of nervous energy coursing through me, but beneath it all, there was an undeniable warmth in Justin's presence.

"Me too," I admitted, my voice quieter than before. Before I could process what was happening, Justin's hand reached out, gently brushing against mine. My breath caught in my throat at the unexpected contact, and I turned to meet his eyes. "Can I be honest?" Justin asked, his gaze unwavering. I nodded, feeling the anticipation building within me. "I've been wanting to do this all evening," Justin confessed, his voice barely above a whisper.

In one swift movement, Justin closed the distance between us, pressing his lips against mine in a soft, tender kiss. My entire body hummed with a rush of emotions, and I found myself leaning into the embrace, savoring the moment. When we finally pulled away, Justin's eyes held a silent question, searching for any hint of discomfort or hesitation.

"Wow," was the only word that escaped my lips, but the smile on Justin's face told me everything I needed to know. "Wow, indeed," Justin echoed, his voice filled with warmth. "I've been wanting to do that since the moment you walked into my house." My heart swelled with a mix of joy and relief. "I'm so glad I stayed," I murmured.

The evening melted into night as we continued to talk, laughter and deep conversations intertwining in the air around us. With each passing moment, I found myself falling deeper for Justin, and the feeling in his eyes mirrored my own. It wasn't until the late hours that I realized how late it had become, and a yawn slipped past my lips, surprising me.

"I should get going," I said, forcing myself to stand despite the reluctance in my heart. Justin nodded, understanding flickering in his eyes. "Yeah, it's getting late. Let me walk you out." We made our way to the front door, the night enveloping us in a gentle embrace. The quiet hum of the neighborhood surrounded us, adding to the intimate atmosphere.

As we reached the threshold, Justin turned to face me, his expression tender. "Thank you for staying," he said, his voice holding a hint of vulnerability. "Thank you for inviting me," I replied, a soft smile gracing my lips. Justin hesitated for a moment, as if contemplating his next move. "Would you... like to do this again sometime?" he asked, his eyes searching mine.

My heart skipped a beat at the hope in his voice. "I'd love that," I admitted, feeling a spark of excitement at the thought of seeing Justin again.

A genuine smile blossomed on Justin's face, and he leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to my cheek. "Goodnight, y/n," he said softly, his gaze lingering on mine. "Goodnight, Justin," I whispered, feeling a warmth spreading through me at his lingering presence.

As I made my way home, the night felt alive with the memory of Justin's touch and the warmth of his gaze. Despite the late hour and the weariness tugging at my body, I felt a renewed sense of hope pulsing within me.

In the days that followed, Justin and I found ourselves drawn to each other like two magnets, unable to resist the pull of our connection. We shared laughter, deep conversations, and quiet moments that seemed to stretch into eternity.

However, as our bond deepened, I couldn't shake the sense of uncertainty lingering at the back of my mind. It felt like standing on the edge of a precipice, the thrill of the fall mingling with the fear of the unknown.

One evening, as Justin and I sat across from each other in a café, the weight of the unspoken lingered between us, casting a shadow over the warmth of our shared laughter. "What's on your mind?" Justin asked, his eyes searching mine with a hint of concern.

I hesitated, feeling the weight of my thoughts pressing against my tongue. "I... I've been thinking," I started, my voice hesitant. Justin's expression softened, and he reached across the table, his hand finding mine. "You can tell me anything, y/n. I'm here for you." The warmth of his touch emboldened me, and I took a deep breath. "I'm just... afraid," I admitted, feeling the vulnerability unraveling within me. "Afraid of what?" Justin prodded gently, his gaze unwavering.

"Afraid of getting too close," I confessed, the words feeling like a weight lifted from my chest. "Afraid of getting hurt." Justin's eyes softened with understanding, and he squeezed my hand gently. "I understand," he said, his voice gentle. "But y/n, I want you to know that I'm not going anywhere. I care about you, and I want to be here for you."

[lailyn]

Sharing Is Scaring

A Frostshield Hurt/Comfort Christmas Fic.

“Are you alright? You are wearing an expression one can only describe as…” Loki tried to think of a kinder word but was unsuccessful. “Constipated.”

"Ouch." Steve winced. His waistband dug painfully into his gut, which was becoming more and more bloated with each passing minute. “I may have overindulged a bit.”

“I thought you had a cast-iron stomach,” Loki teased. 

“Not against Tony’s cooking, it isn’t,” Steve grunted. “I swear the guy still has a grudge against me.”

Loki rolled his eyes. “Sure. Because his special, family-recipe manicotti makes such a lethal weapon that you couldn’t help having seconds.” 

“I didn’t want to be rude,” Steve muttered. He sighed and squirmed and sighed again.

“You didn’t take your Lactaid, did you?” Loki asked knowingly.

“It slipped my mind,” Steve said sheepishly. “Guess I was too distracted tonight.”

“By what?”

“Whom,” Steve corrected. “You look amazing, by the way. You’ve got good taste.”

Loki snorted fondly as he ran a hand down the Christmas sweater he had decided to permanently borrow from Steve. "I’m sure that’s humble bragging, but I appreciate the compliment nonetheless.”

Steve couldn’t help but smile; the soft green wool highlighted the gold flecks in Loki’s eyes, and the ruby neckline his cheeks, made ruddy by the many, many aperitifs Loki must have sneaked in before dinner. 

“Make way for your dazzling host!” Their host breezed past with an armful of snacks and drinks. “Settle down, you two. The movie’s about to start.”

Tony unburdened his load of indulgences onto the coffee table. A bottle of wine tumbled onto the floor and rolled under the couch where Loki and Steve had been comfortably ensconced for the past half hour. “Do you mind getting that for me?”

“What are we watching? Wait, let me guess.” Thor did not have to think very hard, for the choices for good Midgardian entertainment were few and far between. “Die Hard?”

“You guessed right, sweet cheeks.” Tony said.

A collective groan rose; curiously, but not surprisingly, the sound that emanated from Steve was one of discomfort, instead of dismay like the others. 

“Hey, it's either that or Baby’s Day Out!” Tony pointed at Loki and Steve. “And I don’t want those two lovebirds getting any ideas!”

Red-faced, Steve placed the bottle of wine he had painstakingly retrieved back on the table. “Don’t know what you’re talking about, Tony.” 

Loki only smiled a beatific smile, and snuggled just a little deeper into Steve’s side. “Everything comes from an idea.”

His smile faded slightly when he felt Steve stiffen. Before Loki could probe further, the clamour of protests around him grew.  

“Oh come on, there must be hundreds of movies you can choose from!” Natasha exclaimed in exasperation.

“We’re doing things the traditional way this year. That means no cable, no satellite TV, and definitely no streaming."

“Not DVDs!” Bruce groaned. “Tony, we are living in the digital world, you do know that, right?”

“Not even digital, people,” Tony said mischievously as he waved something glinting in the air. “Think older. Think analog.”

“That’s crazy.” Bruce plucked the laser disc out of Tony’s hand, unable to contain his excitement. “I haven’t seen one of these in ages!”

The good-natured protests died down eventually and everybody, as tradition would have it, made the same comments they made every year.

"Hey, ever noticed how Bruce Willis' shirt's blood-spattered one second, clean the next?"

"Continuity's not really that important, Tony."

"The hell it isn't. My fantastic brain's not good at ignoring all these gaffes - "

"Then maybe we should have watched something fun and mindless. The Holiday, Bridget Jones, Love Actually..."

"Oh, don't get me started on Love Actually."

Throughout all the chatter, Steve remained very quiet. The pain in his stomach had grown steadily worse as the night progressed, and halfway into the movie, he was positively sweating.

As if sensing his discomfort, Loki slipped a hand underneath Steve’s shirt and began to rub his stomach in slow, circular motions. 

“You are very warm,” Loki commented, eyebrows knitted in concern.

“It’s really hot in here,” was all Steve could say. Moments later, he felt the first, tell-tale tingle of Loki’s magic burn his skin.

“It’s okay, Loki.” He gently peeled Loki’s fingers off his tender abdomen. “You don’t have to do that.”

“It goes without saying that everyone wants to enjoy their Christmas presents,” Loki murmured. “And you…” He leaned in to whisper in Steve’s ear, “ - are mine.” 

Delighted at seeing Steve shudder, Loki merrily added. “I want to enjoy my Christmas, Captain. So, by hook or by crook, I will have you in tip-top shape tonight.”

“But you’ll be taking on my pain. I don’t see how that’s any fun,” Steve whispered back.

“I think I can handle a little tummy ache, Steve,” Loki said dryly. “I’ve taken on far more dire maladies than that.”

“Alright,” Steve finally relented, albeit not without heavy reluctance. “But only if you’re really sure it won’t hurt you.”

“It won’t,” Loki promised. “Now relax and let me work.”

The potency of Loki’s spells never ceased to impress, and the sharp pangs in Steve’s stomach eased within seconds.

He breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank you.”

“I’m glad you’re feeling better,” Loki said lightly. “Maybe next time you’ll remember to take your medicine. Or was it your intention all along to distract me from Alan Rickman?”

Steve laughed, and dropped a playful peck on Loki’s temple. “You caught me.”

Now that he was finally rid of all his aches and pains, Steve settled in to enjoy the movie,  but it was evident before long that Loki did not share his enthusiasm.

“Are you alright?” Steve asked after catching Loki fidgeting for the hundredth time. He did a double take when he noticed Loki’s pallor. “You look pale.”

Loki’s smile was tight and wan. “I’m always pale, or so you people keep telling me.”

Steve frowned. There was something in the tone of Loki’s voice that did not sit well with him. “Is something wrong?”

Loki may be the God of Lies but he had long lost the ability to school his expressions around Steve.

“I am in terrible pain,” Loki admitted, suddenly out of breath. “I don’t know why. How are you feeling?”

“Me? I’m fine, thanks to you.”

“Good,” Loki grunted. “That’s - that’s good.”

“Wait.” Steve’s heart began to race. “Did something go wrong with the transference spell you did earlier?” 

“I don’t know.” Beads of sweat dotted Loki’s forehead as he clutched his stomach tighter. “This has never happened before.”

“Hey, Romeo, can you and Juliet take it down a notch? We’re kinda trying to watch a movie here.”

Steve ignored the jibe. “Jarvis, lights on, please.”

“Hey, what gives?” Irritated now, Tony swivelled in his seat to look, but his annoyance quickly turned into alarm. “Games, you okay? You don’t look so good.”

“Just an upset stomach. I’m fine,” Loki gritted through his teeth.

Thor, the ever reliable Loki-speak decipherer, sighed. “He’s fibbing. I can tell by his colour. You’re looking very grey, Brother.” 

“Was it the eggnog? The turkey?” Tony gave the room a surveying sweep. “Is anyone else feeling sick?”

“I ate everything and I feel fine,” Thor said. 

“You’re an outlier and therefore cannot be the point of comparison against which other people’s digestive systems are measured,” Tony deadpanned. 

Steve was already helping Loki to his feet. “Is there anyone still working at the medical lab?”

“It’s Christmas eve, genius,” Bruce said cheerily. “Guess who you’re stuck with?”

*************************

“How are you feeling now?” Bruce asked. “Any better?”

Loki shook his head. If anything, he felt ten times worse. “It feels like I’m being stabbed over and over.”

“Strange. The painkillers don’t seem to be working,” Bruce said. He bit his lip, appearing deep in thought. “But the bloodworks and the scans appear normal.”

“Meaning?” Steve asked.

“Meaning…” Bruce took off his glasses. “This is not medical. It’s magical. And there’s only one guy I know who’s an expert in both.”

The Avengers looked at each other with dread.

“Oh, boy,” Tony sighed. “He’s going to love this.”

*************************

The expert, as Tony had predicted quite wrongly, did not love it after all.

“Doing back-to-back shifts on Christmas, covering for your colleagues just because they have kids, dealing with drunks and delinquents…” Doctor Stephen Strange grumbled as he waltzed in through the door. “I thought those days were behind me.”

“Yes, we all know how busy you are,” Tony said sweetly. “Allow our resident Trickster to apologise for pulling you away from your festivities tonight.” 

“Nothing festive about Die Hard, but apparently it’s a Sanctum tradition, so.” Stephen shrugged. “In a way, you did me a favour.”

“Let me guess. DVD.” 

“Hah. VHS.” Stephen gave Tony a triumphant smile. “Wong’s a tech dinosaur.”

“You said he can help,” Steve criticised loudly, frustration evident in his tone. “Loki’s hurting and you’re standing around chatting.”

“Calm down, lover boy,” Stephen said easily. “Tell me your symptoms.”

Steve frowned. “Loki’s the one - ”

“I’m not asking Loki. I’m asking you, since you were the one who was sick in the first place.”

Everyone turned expectantly to Steve.

“What is he talking about?” Natasha asked. “Steve?”

“Oh, no, you didn’t,” Thor groaned. “Loki, how many times must we talk about this?” He shook his head sadly. “My brother has no sense of self-preservation.”

But Stephen paid the ever-dramatic God of Thunder no heed, focusing instead on his patient, who remained deathly quiet and still.

“Captain,” he urged again. “Your symptoms, now.”

Steve recounted his experience, beginning with feeling unwell right after dinner, putting it down to his lactose intolerance.

“So the pain started out dull and more centrally located, before it became sharp and shifted to your right side? And you felt nauseous as well?" At Steve's nod, Stephen turned grim. “These are all classic symptoms of acute appendicitis.”

Steve’s jaw dropped. “But I thought it was just - are you sure?”

“What is that?” Thor asked in alarm. “Is it serious?”

“It’s only the commonest surgical emergency in us humans,” Stephen said nonchalantly. “On average, I did ten appendectomies a day back when I was a resident.”

“I don’t get it,” Thor said. “If it’s so common then why can’t Loki heal himself?”

“I said it was common,” Stephen said. “I didn’t say it wasn’t serious.”

The doctor proceeded to sit down very carefully on the edge of the bed so as to not jar his patient.

“Hello.” 

“Second-Rate,” Loki returned the perfunctory greeting with a solemn acknowledgement. “How kind of you to come.”

“Well, you are a being of diplomatic importance,” Stephen replied cattily. “And Tony’s paying me by the hour. Holiday rates apply, of course.”

“Of course.” Loki’s throat bobbed up and down. “As you can see, I seem to have found myself in a bit of a bind.”

“I can see.” Stephen gestured at Loki’s midsection, the source of all troubles. “Mind if I?”

Steve pulled the privacy curtains around the bed before leaning against the wall to wait..The others showed no sign of budging either, each absorbed in their own curiousity and varying degrees of concern.

A minute later, a hand poked through the curtains. “Doctor Banner, can I see the full body scan again?”

Bruce placed the folder into the doctor’s awaiting hand. 

“Do you want the good news or the bad news?” Stephen asked when he finally emerged from behind the curtains moments later. “You know what? Don’t bother, because they’re all kind of bad.”

Appalling bedside manner aside, the Sorcerer Supreme's demeanour had taken on a confident, no nonsense air, allowing the others a glimpse of what the doctor must have been like back in the day.

“The transference spell worked beautifully, and had Loki been equipped with all our accoutrements, the inflamed appendix would have resolved itself, and you would still be gorging on pies and cookies and what have you.” Stephen paused for dramatic effect. “Unfortunately…”

“Unfortunately?” Steve echoed fearfully.

“He doesn’t have one.” Stephen said simply. “An appendix, I mean.”

Bruce frowned. “So…”

“So the inflammation has nowhere to go. There is nothing for me to cut into, or cut out. The magic cannot close its loop.”

Steve swallowed hard. “So what can we do?”

"About that." Stephen hesitated visibly. “Theoretically, as the spell has not reached its natural conclusion, it can be reversed.”

“So what are we waiting for?” Steve drew the curtains back and grabbed Loki’s limp hand. “Loki, undo the spell.”

Loki turned his head away.

Steve's tone grew hard. “Loki, give it back.” 

Once again, his plea fell on deaf ears. 

Steve turned to the doctor. “He can give it back, can’t he?”

“Yeah…it’s not as straightforward as that, I’m afraid,” Stephen said. “The guarding, the rigidity, the severity of the pain…it’s all pointing towards a ruptured appendix. Now you may be Captain America and all, but generalised peritonitis generally has a very poor outcome, and to transfer it back to you at this stage would be a very, very stupid idea.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning you can die,” Stephen said plainly. “Brave, I give you that, but stupid.”

“It’s not stupid if it means saving Loki’s life,” Steve growled.

“It still is if there’s another way that doesn’t involve you going through the worst agony you’ve ever felt in your life,” Stephen retorted. 

Steve’s face blanched. “Help him. Please.”

Stephen sighed. "Loki."

Loki reluctantly turned his head a fraction.

“You’re a shapeshifter. You know the insides of your body down to every last cell. Do you have a redundant organ, a vestigial piece of organic tissue you can spare?” Stephen asked.

Loki stared at him blankly.

“If you do, we can then divert the disease process into that organ, and take it out as you would a human appendix. Problem solved."

Feeling everybody’s incredulous gaze on him, Stephen felt compelled to defend his sound, professional opinion. “It’s a valid question. Doctor Who has two hearts.”

Despite the seriousness of the situation, Natasha could not resist offering her services. “I can help answer that.”

“Now that is a tough choice,” Tony said with a sympathetic grimace. 

“Guys, this is serious,” Bruce rebuked. “Can’t you see that Loki’s really sick?”

For once, Loki had to agree.

“Can all of you get out of here and let me die in peace?” he moaned.

“Brother,” Thor chastised. “No talk of death, please. I am barely recovered from your last one.”

“You know what’ll help with the pain? Vodka,” Natasha said. “Lots and lots of vodka. I sewed a hole in my stomach once and I hardly felt a thing.”

“Everybody, please!” Steve shouted. “Out. Now.”

“That’s right. Listen to the Captain, everybody," said Stephen drolly. "Everyone out but the next of kin."

Feeling the burn of Loki’s venomous eyes on the back of his head, he cleared his throat. “Correction. Everybody out, especially the next of kin. I need to have a private discussion with my patient.”

Tony tsk-tsked. “Way to go, Bambi. You’ve really ruined Christmas now.”

“Sorry,” Loki gasped.

“Don’t be,” Tony said, eyes softer than anyone had ever seen them. “We’ve watched Die Hard like, what, five years in a row? Besides, I’ve got it on hard copy, it’s ours forever. Unless I buy Netflix, of course.” 

He gave Loki’s knee a pat, awkward but gentle. “So try not to die, huh?”

Loki could only nod, the intense pain robbing him of speech and breath.

Stephen waved an impatient hand. “You too, Captain. Don’t worry, I won’t do anything to him you won’t do.”

At this point, Steve was too distraught and sick with anxiety to appreciate the doctor’s dark humour. 

“I’ll be right outside, Loki.”

Loki’s eyes followed Steve and lingered on the door long after it closed behind him.

With a majestic sweep of his cloak, the Sorcerer Supreme dropped into the chair and crossed his legs expectantly. “So. What will it be?” 

When Loki remained silent, Stephen decided to stop beating around the bush. “I know you’ve got the answer. I can see it in your eyes.”

Loki licked his lips. “Stark’s right. It isn’t an easy choice.”

“It’s only a choice between aesthetic perfection and survival, Loki,” Stephen said, frowning. “We have implants, prosthetics - ”

“I am not talking about breasts or testicles, Doctor. I couldn’t care less about them,” Loki interrupted. “Only that external endowments will not do. The poison is inside me.”

Stephen waited patiently; something was coming.

“I guess it was a blessing in disguise,” Loki sniffed, cursing the threat of tears stinging his eyes. “We could have watched Baby’s Day Out and made this a lot more difficult than it needs to be.”

“Oh.” Stephen’s shoulders slumped when the truth about Loki’s dilemma sank in. “Oh, dear.”

They stayed in an uncomfortable yet somewhat companionable silence for a while, before Stephen spoke again.

“Look. I don’t know much about your anatomy, yet,” Stephen said haltingly. “But if you consent to it, I’ll see what we can do about salvaging your reproductive potential. How’s that sound?”

“You will not give me false hope,” Loki said in a hard voice. “Not you.”

“Not me,” Stephen agreed. “So here’s what we’re going to do...”

*************************

“How long does this usually take?”

“It’s a key-hole procedure, it shouldn’t take long…”

“Didn’t you tell me Strange was in an accident and it ruined his hands?’

“That was years ago, maybe he got better.”

“No, he still has the shakes. But maybe it’s one of those things that gets better with alcohol?”

“Strange is drinking and operating on my brother??”

"Settle down, kids. Uncle Tony’s got it covered. He made your Uncle Stephen a new set of hands for Christmas.”

“You did what?”

“Ever heard of biomechanically loading muscle fibres to suppress involuntary tremor, Doctor Banner?”

“Only in theory.”

“Oh, it works, I assure you. It’s medical exoskeleton technology at its best. Well. Tony’s best.”

“Tony…”

Now he can quit his day job and go back to being a brain surgeon if he wants. Oof!”

“Damn you, Stark.”

Pat, pat. “Love you too, Rogers.”

*************************

“Hey.”

“Hey.”

“How are you feeling?”

“Okay, I think.” Loki listened to his body. It still pulsated with magic, his and Stephen’s combined, but where there once was fire, there was fire no more. “Yeah, I feel okay. I don't hurt anymore.”

Steve’s sigh of relief warmed his skin. Warmer still was the press of Steve’s lips on his knuckles seconds later. “You scared me.”

“I think I scared myself.” Loki smiled weakly. “And I’m not easily scared.”

“Hey, give yourself some credit. You were really sick.”

A nonchalant shrug. “Yes, well.”

“I’m serious, Loki. You nearly died.”

“Death doesn’t scare me, Captain,” Loki said gently. “At least, mine doesn’t.”

Steve was quiet. “Think I was scared enough for the both of us.”

“Sorry,” Loki apologised. “But everything’s okay now, isn’t it?”

“Is it?”

Loki tilted his head and observed Steve's stiff demeanour.

“Did the doctor tell you?” he queried tentatively. “What he did in the end?”

Steve shook his head. “He couldn’t get out of here fast enough. The minute he was sure you were going to pull through, he left.”

“Of course he did,” Loki said with a roll of his eyes. “I suppose I must visit him in that dreadful place of his and thank him properly.”

“Once you’re better,” Steve said firmly.

“I am better, Steve,” Loki said. “In all the ways that matter.”

“Yeah? Care to tell me more?”

Loki stiffened. “What makes you think there’s more?”

“There’s always more with you,” Steve exploded, his voice raw with emotions. “What did you sacrifice in the end, Loki? What did you have to give up to save my life?”

“I didn’t sacrifice. I bargained.”

“You bargained.” Steve clenched his fist, the one not still holding Loki’s hand. “Stop talking in riddles, Loki. Just tell me the truth.”

“Do you remember what I said? About how everything begins with an idea?” Loki asked softly. “Me joining you, fighting the good fight. Us, living together under one roof. The idea of you and me.”

“Yes. It was the best damn idea I’ve ever had in my life.”

Loki heard the conviction in Steve’s voice and his resolve crumbled. 

“Well I had an idea too, you see. I’ve had it for a while now. But tonight I thought - ” his voice caught in a throat thick with tears, “I thought the idea had turned into an impossibility.” 

“And what is this idea, Loki?” Steve asked, his heart pounding in his chest.

“A family,” Loki exhaled shakily. “With you.”

“You don’t mean - ?”

“My womb. I thought I had to give it up,” Loki confessed. “That’s why I hesitated. I fought the pain for as long as I could.”

Steve had turned as white as paper. His hand darted out and palmed Loki’s bandaged abdomen. “No, Loki. Tell me you didn’t.”

Loki placed his hand atop Steve’s. 

“I didn’t,” he said reassuringly. “Apparently I have - had - lots of women bits. Some I even had extras of, according to Strange.”

Steve still couldn’t speak, so Loki rambled on. “Something called ovaries? Yes, I think that’s what they’re called. He said even if one is removed, there’s a good chance we could still…well. You know.”

Increasingly perturbed by Steve’s continual silence, Loki took it upon himself to sit up -

Jolted out of his reverie, Steve quickly put a hand on Loki’s chest. “What on earth do you think you’re doing?”

It could be the close brush with death, or the lingering effects of the drugs still circulating in his veins, but Loki could feel the desire surging, the need to know what Steve Rogers was really thinking in that perfect head of his.

“Captain. My Captain,” Loki called quietly. “Does it scare you? My idea?”

Steve pulled Loki in so fast his head swam -

“You idiot,” he felt the rumble of Steve’s voice in his chest, the warmth of Steve’s kiss on his head, finally a whisper, fervent and frantic.

“The only thing that scares me is losing you.”

Everything about Steve was so warm. 

Somewhere in the mansion, a clock chimed twelve. 

After he was done kissing Loki to his heart’s content,

“Hey, since it’s officially Christmas and neither of us is dying…” Steve broke into a suggestive grin. “Wanna watch something?”

"Not Die Hard again,” Loki groaned. 

Steve shook his head. He waved a disc in the air. “Try again.”

Loki smiled at the sight of its cover. 

“Baby’s Day Out, it is.”

[shakyhandz]

The Dead Three’s Chosen - Re-Animator Style

Okay so, big thoughts are happening.

I would like to propose this quaint imagine. Please suspend your disbelief for some out of character ness that may occur in this scenario.

We’ll start with Doctor Herbert West, Chosen of Bhaal, wizard interested in the re-animated living - necromancy. He would be an unwilling chosen from the start. Not because he’s adverse to murder, really he doesn’t mind, but because the blood of Bhaal makes him a bit more impulsive, and he ends up killing his test subjects before he can progress his research. It’s all very inconvenient, you see.

I feel like Bhaal would like West as a chosen, for the most part. I don’t see him as a murderous beast, lusting for blood, and committing murder sprees. But I do see him killing people and using their corpses to kill more people. And being a bhaalspawn, I’m sure there’s a dark urge that drives his curiosity to disassemble bodies and put them back together. I imagine his lab looking a bit like Balthazar’s lab.

Bhaal himself can animate the dead and talk through them, and I just have this bit in my head of Bhaal possessing some of the corpses West re animates so that he can talk to West, as West isn’t going to pray/commune with him anytime soon. The dynamic is like a rebellious son ignoring his father, “stop ignoring me, son” Bhaal would say, and it would piss West off every time.

While I’ve seen it be said that Bhaal hates necromancy, as it’s giving life to something already dead, I’d argue that Bhaal would see the necromancy as a good thing as long as it was a means to more death. “Life is strength if it means you can use it to end more lives” - Bhaal, probably. And we know that West has no problem mixing murder with his necromancy.

But that’s the thing, West doesn’t want his re-animated corpses to be mindless murder zombies, he wants to actually perfect the art of necromancy, create actual life. And it drives his father absolutely mad. The deity painfully hand sculpted this man to make him his perfect murderous son, only for him to become obsessed with the one thing he’ll never grasp for long - the living.

Enter, Doctor Daniel Cain, Death Cleric and Chosen of Myrkul. Cain didn’t start out as a Myrkul worshipper, he first was a life cleric of Kelemvor. However, a particularly traumatic event (perhaps a girlfriend dies, driving him to madness. or maybe he starts to dabble in magic that Kelemvor doesn't approve of and causes something horrible to happen) leads him to switch his faith. Those who turn to Myrkul usually experience a lot of death in their lives. It has to be something very upsetting for him to switch like that.

If you have other ideas as to how he came to be Myrkul’s chosen, feel free to share.

Those who worship Myrkul typically have these views - death is inevitable, natural, and should be embraced, but also respected- feared.

Perhaps Cain is fueling his faith for Myrkul due to a personal fear of death that he holds. More so for the fear for others. Or perhaps Cain seeks a way to extend the life of other people through Myrkul, I know the deity is all about the acceptance of death, but the deity has been known to extend lives of the living if it suits his cause.

I can’t really think of a solid reason as to why Cain would choose to worship Myrkul, at least not before all the events that go down in the movie, LOL, he’s a lot more jaded after.

It is also said that worshippers seek to give comfortable deaths to people, so perhaps in this scenario instead of Cain being a “healing” doctor, he’s more of a “quality of life” doctor. He’s going to manage your pain levels, sit “death-watch” beside you in your last hours, and make you as comfortable as you can be for when you inevitably pass.

Perhaps he finds an odd peace helping others in this way, easing the suffering and burdens that many carry to their end.

Next, we have Doctor Carl Hill, Chosen of Bane, a paladin who has broken his hippocratic oath, LOL (idea was given by a commenter on a previous post.)

Hill actively chooses to worship his god. He’s a powerful hypnotist and specializes in matters of the brain (idk what people of Faerûn would consider a “brain doctor” but he’s that.) He’s controlling, conniving, and holds political clout inside of Baldur’s gate.

If we are following the story of the game, I’m imagining him coming up with the idea to enslave the elder brain instead of the durge. Or maybe he does peek at West’s notes and steals some of his ideas about it. I’m also thinking about the brains that are hooked up to the steel watch, very Dr. Hill coded.

Now, when the summons for these three chosen are issued by their gods, West is very keen on ignoring the call. Perhaps West also has a butler in this scenario that desperately tries to convince him to work with the other chosen, but West really isn’t interested.

So the ever diligent butler takes it upon himself to go knocking on the doors of the other chosen (spawning into their abodes unannounced) and, agonizingly, asks them to seek out West themselves.

Hill will think himself above such a task, more concerned with his work than for that sorry excuse of a chosen, at least by his standards. Really, does Bane not consider him powerful enough to do this on his own? Ridiculous.

Cain, on the other hand, agrees to fetch West. He could seek him out for many reasons, maybe he doesn’t like the idea of working with Hill and wants to see what this other guy is all about. Maybe he knows about West already, or has heard about his research. And then they meet.

I’m thinking they meet while West is animating one of those hairless cats, maybe many of them, and it’s running around, bouncing off the laboratory walls, and Cain kills it dead with a spell. And West gets so pissed and upset at this absolute nobody coming in and crushing one of his experiments. And Cain’s all like “oh sorry, I thought you were in trouble, here” and revives the dead cat again for him. But West is like “No! It’s not the same! There’s a better way” or whatever because I assume Myrkul’s magic isn’t gonna do what West wants. Myrkul’s magic is more about bringing back the body rather than the mind, if that makes sense.

So Cain is like “oh, better? For real?” Because Cain got into the whole Myrkul business (I assume) to bring back a loved one or something along those lines, so he’s like “tell me more.” And so West goes “okay” and then he kills the cat again. And then shows Cain some of his experiments. And well, I’m sure it doesn’t take long to become “roommates” again.

Let’s bring it back to Dr. Hill. In this scenario there is no Orin to throw a wrench in everyone’s perfect plans. Hill is our Orin. If we are going straight off of the game events, He’s going to be the one to go after West and try to off him. He’s going to steal all his research and leave him for dead. Whether or not he loses his memories, I’ll leave that for you all to decide in your own imagines.

I’m also thinking, if West gets wormed and tossed aside, Cain is gonna have some inner turmoil. To combat the loneliness or whatever, I’d say Cain brings Megan back to life, sorta like Isobel. During this time of West being M.I.A, Hill steals her away, leaving Cain seething mad and grief stricken all over again. That’s the emotional state Cain is in when West encounters him again.

If West doesn’t remember Cain, I feel like Cain would lay it all out for him. And tell him what Hill did. And so West is ofc going to seek revenge, and Cain is all for it.

If West does remember all the events upon meeting Cain again, I feel like he would be a bit miffed that Cain decided to turn to Megan instead of looking for West’s dead body and re animating him instead. I doubt he’d tell Cain that but I feel like, deep down, he’d be a bit jealous of his dead girlfriend. And so ofc he’s going to want to kill Hill, but also, he’ll probably plot to get rid of Megan too lol.

And that’s it! Those are my thoughts on the topic for now. Ofc I have little mini scenarios in my head about everything but that’s rough idea as a whole. Personally, for this scenario, idk if I would have it follow the game story line, I like to imagine these three on the set of a morbid rom-com doctor show where they run the most diabolical hospital in the name of the dead three LMAO.

Anyway, as always I’d love to hear your thoughts and input. If it inspires you to create your own art or stories, regardless if it follows this imagine, I’d really like to see because I’m so into this crossover.

[mostlylurkinbarelypostin]

Mike’s S3 Arc

AKA, the most misunderstood arc in all of television history (JK, probably not but it feels like it and this is coming from someone who was very much in the general audience during my first watch of S3)

Mike’s arc in S3 gets me in my feels every time I think about it. After going through everything with Will in season 2, he ends up at the snowball where he’s coming to realizations and having to make heartbreaking decisions. He watches his friends slowly leave him until he’s completely alone. From Mike’s perspective, he’s being left behind as his friends seemingly conform easily. Lucas goes off with Max, Will leaves him to dance with some random girl, and Dustin leaves to go find a girl as well. Mike is left alone at the table, and he faces a decision - conform or be left behind. El, who is literally paralleled to Superman, walks in and Mike does what is expected of him. He packs up his true feelings and desires and makes the same decision his mother made. He chooses the person that society has been telling he should. It doesn’t matter what he truly wants. It probably doesn’t feel like much of a choice though when he’s operating under the belief that the only alternative will lead to him being abandoned by those he loves.

In S3, Mike fully throws himself into his relationship with El because this is his chance to be normal, and if he can’t make it work with a literal superhero, then what does that say about him? El also saved his and his friends lives so he probably feels like he owes it to her as well. It doesn’t come naturally to him at all though, and no matter how hard he tries to be “normal,” he can’t change who he is. He starts hiding out of fear that his friends will see through his facade. He pulls away from the group, and Will in particular, opting to hide away at the cabin with El where he doesn’t have to do as much pretending. He can pull her hands off of him without being questioned and he doesn’t have to be scared that someone will notice the way he looks at and gravitates towards Will.

It’s heartbreaking though, because not only is he depriving himself of time with his friends and the boy he really loves, but El doesn’t even like Mike when he’s being himself. He gets shut down, like when he tried to sing with her. So Mike can only really be himself in dark places like the movie theatre where no one else is paying attention and him and Will can sit close together and look at each other without fear that someone will notice.

It gets progressively harder for Mike to keep pretending though when Will gets a little too close to the truth during their fight in the garage. He gets scared and ends up projecting onto Will, not realizing just how much his words would hurt him. At this point his girlfriend, his safety net, has left him, and he just lost the person that means the most to him. This time it wasn’t because of some outside force either, but rather from his own actions. So now Mike is alone again, despite trying his hardest to be “normal.” He did what he thought was expected of him and everything came crumbling down anyway. By the end of season 3, Mike is finding his way back to Will and seemingly hasn’t tried to get back together with El. He has a sweet moment with Will in the kitchen where he feels like maybe he hasn’t fully lost him after all. He then walks into Will’s room in a good mood, only to have El throw him the biggest curve ball ever as she tells him, out of the blue, “I love you too”. It’s fitting that he’s framed in front of a closet because he was thrown so far back into it that he may as well be in Narnia. After all that, he then has to say goodbye to Will, his best friend of almost a decade, who he still feels like he hasn’t fully repaired his relationship with, hence why Mike is focused on during Hopper’s voiceover. As implied through the voiceover, Mike has felt Will pulling away from him since their fight and it scares him. He realizes that all the changes that he’s made in order to be “normal” aren’t what he wants. Rejecting who he was didn’t make him happy and he almost lost Will as a result. It’s all a little too late though as he stands in the Byer’s driveway, watching Will leave to move across the country.

Like damn :(

Kinda unrelated, but sometimes I wonder if what happened during the time jump was a parallel to Jonathan and Nancy in S2. Nancy tells him that she waited before getting back together with Steve, to which Jonathan says “like only a month.” Like Nancy, did Mike maybe wait for Will, and when he didn’t hear from him, threw himself back into his relationship with El? Just a thought.

Anyways, all of this has been said before but I just enjoy putting it together into a stream of consciousness 🌚

[misterradio]

okay here are some tron 2.0 thoughts TEE HEE....... you have been Spoiler Warned for REAL!

tron fans talk abt this game with me okay 🥺

THIS GAME IS BEAUTIFUL .... MWWWWWAH!!!!!! i just love all the different environment designs, the color coding that went into the different computer systems was really cool too. my main takeaway is that the visuals Rule.

the npc designs were cool too but i kind of wish there was More variety (visually as well as voice acting)... but i really enjoy the design direction here ::-) why so many bald antagonist though? lol (AND WHY SO MANY MEN?)

In regards to gameplay i felt like it was pretty standard? i ended up using the basic disc weapon for most of the game because switching weapons takes Way too long if youre actively fighting, which is kind of a shame cuz there are so many weapon options... i did really enjoy the energy claw though 👍also the light cycle racing SUCKED and there was a graphical glitch that made it so that a bunch of visuals to my cycle were missing so i couldnt even enjoy the new design that was hyped up lol. as complicated as gameplay felt up front it definitely felt much better as it went on so it was pretty good.

game progression was very straightforward which i didnt expect..? go do this and then do that, etc. i thought it would be more open. this isnt rlly a complaint bc at least i wasnt lost or anything.

finding all the build notes was thankfully not hard but i enjoy poking around as much as i can in games already... and i liked the mechanics of searching archive boxes and being able to read emails between people ::-) YAY NOSINESS !!! despite finding all the build notes i still didnt end with the highest version i couldve...🤔 no idea how that works then...

moving on 2 story...

all the characters felt a bit flat so that was unfortunate... i wouldve liked to see some more emotions from everyone, bit more personality, etc...

i dont rlly know where jet's attachment to mercury came from, is he in love with this girl, if so why?? im thinking that since she was the first program to really reach out and help jet, that he latched on to her. but as the player i was kind of neutral on her SORRY although her design is cool

i was in disbelief that lora died and i was thinking she would just have been digitized and b in the computer somewhere? and there are allusions to her at least being superficially present in the program ma3a/ma2a etc (they have the same actress ^^__^^) but neither jet nor alan mention this which really shocks me??!!!??? thats your deceased mom or wife can u show a bit of tenderness or something..... maybe this can be cooked up more in an AU or something . idk i was really hoping she (and yori) would be around. i held on to hope for so long ✊️

OBVIOUSLY WISHING TRON WAS THERE... but omg alan being in the digital world shocked me so much i really liked that HEHE. him wearing tron's outfit was fun. i saw someone else in the tag say this, but if tron is "retired" then where is he?? INQUIRING MINDS WANNA KNOW !! he and jet werent very fazed by being digitized which surprised me buuut they also have to adapt fast given the urgency of their situation..

i felt rlly bad that thorne died SNIFFLE SNIFFLE jet and alan just watched a real guy die in front of them thats MESSED UP!! he was really cool too i enjoyed the corruption concept ::-) i was really worried the three fcon employees were gonna die too but im glad they implied that they could be repaired and manifested again.. (what is the word for un-digitized..?)

evil ma3a was really cool 👍 tbh all the antagonists are cool except im neutral on the kernel. i was confused that he was red i thought he was evil like in the original movie with the MCP's soldiers.. but i think hes just a guy who happens to be red. and also trying to kill u but just bc you (jet) are a freak of computer nature and should not be there. thats fair. i enjoyed his boss fight too.

THE FCON MONSTER WAS RLLY COOL HOW AM I NOT SEEING ANY FANART OF THEM.... ::-( i have to fix this... ALSO I WISH they had dialogue. like are they even aware of their situation. missed opportunity !!

okay thats all i can think of now.

WAIT UM I READ THE COMIC CONTINUATION(?) the ghost in the machine AS WELL and i dont have many thoughts on it bc it was really confusing BUT i did enjoy the layers of horror and unreality which i really did not expect. was also expecting the titular ghost to have more to do with lora (SIGH I REALLY WANNA SEE HER AGAIN) but it didnt but thats okay. i really liked the art of the first book specificaly.....

do any tron fans also like soma (2015) haha just wondering [TWIRLS MY HAIR

[pussyfootmaneuver]

6 and 7!!! i want hot takes if u got em :)

6. Which saga is your favorite? 

oh god, having actual opinions on things. this is tough... the saiyan saga is super nostalgic and very interesting to look back on as this Moment where DBZ defined its own identity at a time before that identity got like, repetitive or way over the top. but the namek saga IS that toppest peak of insanity brought to its natural conclusion, with the following androids/cell saga being kinda like. not bad but weird, pacing wise, when you think about how natural the progression from raditz to frieza went.... i've never even SEEN the majin buu saga but the fact that ssj3 goku is there makes it the greatest of all time AND BUU TOO i like buu :) weird creature. the tournament of power was cool and enjoyable to watch and i liked all the characters that were designed who we'll never ever see ever again.

the best super dragonball heroes manga is the first one, demon realm mission, that tells the story of how xeno trunks and the time patrol came to be- it was NOT adapted into a full little anime arc which is BULLSHIT considering it's the greatest one and crucial background info for the entire concept... i love it and the characters it introduces so much. WAIT I FORGOT ABOUT GT the baby saga is so interesting and expansive and huge in my mind and ssj4 is awesome so there. those are some of my favorites

7. Which saga is your least favorite?

resurrection F did more damage to dragonball than literally any other super media. it embodies the absolute nosedive of derivative pandersome (not a word?) rubbish that the series shoveled out in lieu of doing anything more interesting. bringing frieza back like that was comparable to like, the 4d movie where broly shows up to kill goku and now he's GOD BROLY so you can take him seriously as a threat at this point, it's the same thing. super saiyan blue has grown on me bc it's so stupid but scrapping super saiyan god immediately was a bad move too. everything abt that arc is totally limp and purposeless. super was at its strongest when exploring new universes and their fighters, and at its weakest when bringing back stuff from Z like frieza or future trunks (altho i do like what zamasu has going on, it's just why did you have to lean on future trunks for this ? marketing)

ig my controversial thoughts on the android/cell saga make it the lowpoint of z for me?? but it has its own swagger that i can appreciate... i'm only just reading the original manga so maybe i'll come to appreciate it more. it'd also probably feel bigger if like, the majin buu saga didn't kinda shit all over the stuff it changed about the series LOL super 17 is an incredibly weird part of GT that could easily be cut all together without losing much. i appreciate the androids getting some screen time and emotions and stuff but it's so out of the blue. the worst super dragonball heroes arc is-- and im very sorry to a very special friend for saying it, but it's prison planet. literally just have a grudge with it bc it's where the ""anime"" starts and i got so tired trying to watch it at various points before reading the manga... it's been too long honestly i should reread it, i'm sure the manga version is better and more fun than i remember, i just have the anime version stuck in my brain. cumber is awesome and his power cannot be contained and all but we get More cumber later anyway, along with his whole gang... like tch... cmon

[bh-writingdump]

Grass

Chapter 3

Out of all the ways you’d thought you’d spend you’d spend your evening, being drugged and kidnapped into attending a movie night was not one of them.

 Laying along the couch in the smaller skeleton’s lap. Logic alone dictates you should be able to roll of the couch and walk away. Okay, maybe stumble away… worm away.

If you’d ask, you’re sure Red would’ve stopped all this nonsense and let you sleep it off.

Unfortunately, in the ensuing hour since Red drugged you, you’re having trouble even raising your head, much less flipping a 100-200 pound skeleton off a couch. It leaves you against him. His around you neck in an oddly comfortable head lock. A fan pointed at your legs, keeping the two of you cool with an ice back on your head does the rest.

“Why even do this? You already tell everyone you’ve fucked me.”

“you wanna?” He pinches your nipple.

“Owwww, not funny.” You whine, tensing up only slightly. He’d teased you for fucking hour. “Give my nipples a breaaaak. Is this it? You just want to torture me? Cuz let me tell you, you only have yourself to blame for making an ass out of yourself.”

Red flicks aimlessly through the channels. “Nature documentary?”

His hand leaves your sore nipple. You sigh. “Sure. Why not.”

He flips to another channel.

“Why ask if you’re just gonna—never mind.” You lean back. Fuck it, might as well rest while you’re on the good stuff. Damn, when was the last time you sat still without a pencil in your hand. Days? Weeks?  Even when you sleep, you barely remember dozing off, always just waking up covered in ink with sticky notes plastered across your cheeks. Maybe you’d even be lucky enough to fall asleep.

Wishful thinking but a joy can hope.

“wasn’t crime… something else..” Red murmurs.

By now, the ice had all melted, setting it aside on a nearby plate, you nuzzle into the crook of his arm sighing. A rattle reverberates through him. Heh, for all the time’s he’s begged you to come over, guess he doesn’t know what that entails.

“Did I hit a nerve?” You press a light kiss to his ulna.

He gives a light jerk, making you cough between giggles. “how ‘bout this one?”

The moment you see the golden H you recoil into his arm.

“c’mon, starry night. ya like it doncha?”

The channel doesn’t change.

“Couldn’t we watch something else?” At this rate, if you fall asleep, you’ll lose an entire day’s worth of work to a history documentary.

“Why?”

“Work never sleeps, Red. Unlike your work ethic. I have a show or two in me, after that, I need a ride back to work, alright?”

Red doesn’t reply, leaving the channel where it is. It’s something set in the Civil War with actors playing while a dull narrator reads off the teleprompter.

“No. Red. We’ve been over this. No history.”

“thought you liked the founding daddies.”

You shudder. “one, don’t call them that, EVER. Two, I read history. Watching it is a bastardization of interesting history into a droll of medium like TV.  For the first time since arriving, you legitimately attempt to sit up. You get as far as raising your head before you realize while the intensity of the weed had lessened somewhat in the hour since you’d taken it, it still felt like you were moving sixty miles per hour whenever you moved.

You groan, burying your face into his elbow. “next time, half dose.”

“heh, more like 16th dose. ya didn’t say ya had no tolerance.”

“I have an edible or two.”

“bet it’s 1 to 1.”

“It is.”

“figures.”

 “jackass, change the channel.”

He does. It’s to another history channel, this one set further back. “how ‘bout cave daddies?”

“Why must you do this to me?” You grumble.  “I have work. It’s due tomorrow. I need to make some sort of progress or… or…” His phalange runs along your jaw, stealing your breath away.

“taken care of.”

For some reason in your drug addled mind, it seemed acceptable.

Soon as his hand rests on your head, you know your done for. His head scratches always felt like they were drowning in good vibes. Your mind would cloud up and take long minutes to piece together any single idea.

The neanderthals shifted from group dynamics in a cave to something about hunting a wooly mammoth. You barely get a few words in before being interrupted by yawning spelling. “Not watching—a history thing—just so you can skimp of on work.”

“heh, not true.” He drinks in your confusion like it’s the best weed. “doing it with you s’ just a bonus.”

You frown, trying to figure out why playing hooky with work with you would make it more rewarding. Whatever, his arm is comfortable so there’s no point in arguing. You press your cheek into it again. It had since gone warm, making you grumble about ice.

Red disapears from beneath you. You grumble sub-vocally like a todder until the familiar weight shifts back and something cool gets pressed to your cheek.

“so you will sleep with me?”

If it weren’t for the drugs, you’d definitely be burning up with embarrassment. Now? You just huff.

“heh, knew it. ya like sleeping with me.”

“no… fucking.”

You can see his stupid smirk. “kay.”

“Nobody will believe you.”

“pictures don’t lie.”

You get enough strength to lift you head to fix him with a glare. Admittedly, when he had bragged in the past, he hadn’t showed any co-workers pictures of you he had taken. Still, something about him taking pictures while you were sleeping and sharing them felt more intimate than any teasing he’d done in the past on camera.

“no sharing.”

With your last brain cell, you snake a hand out from your lump of limbs. Your body feels so alien and apart from you as you rip a nearby water. No, that’s not what you want. Your hand crawls to the remote. You even get so far as changing the channel to something about baking when Red’s hand ghosts over your wrist, forcing you to drop the remote.  

“No. history.”

He forces your head back so you’re staring into his eyes. “Remember whose house yer in, kitten.” For a moment, you’re not sure what’s going to happen. Then, as if he did it all the time, he lets your head go and resumes scritching. The movement of your peach fuzz back and  forth wiping away the patter in your heart. “Now, who’s yer daddy?”

You murmur sub-vocally, hiding your face.

He stops petting.

You try to grab his hand and press it to your head but nothing happens. God, you hate this sadist. “More.” You say, tongue thick as cotton.

“ya know how ta ask, doncha?”

With renewed strength, you flop over, using his musty old tank top to hoist up your swaying form. Your eyes can’t focus but the knowing smile is telling. You know what he wants. He’s never hidden what he wants but damned if you were to give it to him. “More now.”

“ah, ya know better.”

His hand rests on your neck, stroking your jugular, forcing your breath to hitch. “M…dunno… weird man. Only scritch-scritch.”

His wiggles his fingers, a glob of crimson viscous magic shifting around it like syrup. “ask nicely and i’ll help ya wherever ya like, kitten.”

You sigh, swallowing hard against his hand. “Please… more scritches..” You don’t meet his hungry gaze. What you do meet is his knee conveniently positioned between your thighs.

“Really?”

“i can make ya beg.” He draws his magic covered hand across your cheek. You’d never felt so intoxicated by another’s touch than then.

“no.”

Red sighs, his knee drops and he sets you back on his chest. “virgin.”

In lieu of remembering sufficient insults, you blurt, “hrmigiger.”

“shit.. hehehehe, I dosed ya good, didn’t I?” Still, he doesn’t touch you again.

You know you could just watch the documentary. He wouldn’t force you to play but.. then he’d be asking about how breakfast as and if you wanted to sleep in next time at work. Even that didn’t persuade you to do it. Though, the idea of being in his lap without being touched for the rest of the night drove you absolutely nuts.

But if you begged a little, you’d get something. Now that you’re here.. a few minutes of sleep doesn’t sound the worst.

“Daddy?” Your voice breaks as you pant.

A skeleton kiss skims your cheek. You freeze until the scritches take the worry away. “now that wasn’t so hard, was it?”

Though the channel hadn’t changed. You’d have to ask again. Smug bastard. “Daddy,” You nearly choke on your own words but it’s easier this time. “I wanna-I want to watch discovery channel.”

He chuckles. “Do you now?” he scritches around your ear until your eyes flutter shut.

“Yuhh.. yup.” Your mouth feels like it’s full of syrup like the way his magic super charges every sensation.

“now that’s too bad, isn’t it?”

“no please, red! Uhh daddy?”

“Fuck, try one more time. Maybe I’ll change my mind.”

Doing your best to wiggle your ass and sit up, you struggle to keep eye contact, forcing him to cup your chin so you don’t eat shit into his pelvis. “Daddy, pleeease change the channel. Pwetty pwease with a chewey on top.”

He gags. “fuck, don’t say it like that.” Bursting out into laughing.

“waaah? Wha dat daddy? Yo don like me talky walkie like—” He covers your mouth and secures you with a head lock while you laugh.

The channel’s on a documentary on cheetahs. Despite how sad it is, you somehow still manage to fall asleep in his arms.

.

.

.

[Grass Ch3, end]

[lettersfromcats]

August movies!!

hi doreen !!!

ive decided to watch at least one film a day this month for no reason, but i have been having fun. since i don't use letterbox to give proper reviews i thought it'd be fun to start documenting my thoughts on each one for the month :) (ratings based on intuition alone) (this will take a while/ in progress)

-the cabin in the woods: 6/10 i really wanted to like this cause i liked the vibes and it seemed right up my alley- i love a horror comedy; but i found myself really bored halfway through. i do like the premise but i think the characters were a bit too archetype-y for me, which i get is the point. i still found it enjoyable and i would watch it again- just probably with other people, i think it's a group watch film.

-the virgin suicides: 9/10 i'm using this to work through some of my watchlist and this was on there for a while, we talked about watching it and i was not disappointed. the exploration of grief from the peripherals really struck me as well as the depiction of girlhood. i understand the criticism of the girls stories being told by the boys but to me the film seemed very self-aware and deliberate in that depiction (and i do love an unreliable narrator). the utter foreboding that hung over the mystical haze of memory throughout the film was enchanting and i mean the cinematography and soundtrack, impeccable. i can't move on without mentioning the symbolism of the elm trees, it's as if a literary technique was designed specifically to get me to like a film. the elm in itself has such interesting mythos and history which maybe wasn't deliberate beyond the obvious symbols in the film, but still is really interesting, for example, in norse mythology, the first woman was made from an elm and in america elms became a symbol of war and liberation during the revolution.

-girl, interrupted: 10/10 started with simon and garfunkle and still got better. incredible performances from any lesbians idea of a stacked cast and jared leto dies at war so win-win. the depictions of illness while i can't say are flawless, never feel like the intentions are wholly mocking- (though i obviously can't speak for everyone) and are devastating when brought to focus. and there's a homoerotic friendship so i was always gonna like it.

-purple hearts: 0/10 i dont even want to talk about it, i was watching it ironically and i couldn't even bring myself to have fun. the politics are beyond confused and seem to boil down to a centrist mush of love everyone despite their flaws (racism) and war's okay if the soldiers are big pouty white men. the romance was even rushed i don't know how anyone enjoyed it.

-the lighthouse: 8/10 exactly my type of artsy bullshit, robert pattinson and willam defoe shine in this weird, gross, claustrophobic, anxious masterpiece and i was having a great time. so much and so little happened but the delirious descent into madness was wonderful and a little bit gay so score.

-saw: 10/10 i finally watched it and as i predicted am obsessed, i just love a horror that is just a little ridiculous. i want to keep billy in a cage and feed him carrot sticks, (is he an animatronic or a puppet? how does he cycle???) jigsaws motivations make no sense and honestly good from him, i'd go batshit crazy if i were him too. the editing is so 2000s i can't stop thinking about it. the bathroom trap is where i want to go when i die. the horror was a lot less visceral than i was expecting; i think the contained nature of the traps really just creates such tension, especially between the characters stuck together, which is so compelling to me. the reverse bear trap is crazy i love it and what lesbian horror fan isn't a little in love with amanda. im so glad i hadn't had the twist spoiled for me because oh my god. also score slapped: hello zepp.

-old: 4/10 so silly i think more rich people should pay out of pocket to make bad films unintentionally. i watched with my siblings and i love nothing more than tearing apart this sort of thing with a captive audience who have to find me funny or be bored.

-extra ordinary: 8/10 i didn't know this was Irish until it started and what a pleasant surprise it all was. such a fun watch i really enjoyed it. the supernatural elements were the good side of corny and the romance was cheesy but heartfelt, with quintessentially irish humour just a really easy to watch, fun little film.

-piggy: 7/10 i really enjoyed this despite the not-great dub i was watching. i like how the bullied girl revenge trope was subverted and saras character felt very real, her reactions to events came off as very genuine and the suspension throughout is pulled off really well. i do get the criticisms of it being a drawn-out short cause i did find it a little slow at times but not having seen the short i didn't find the plot at all diminished. i liked the aspect of detachment from the killings emphasized by none of them being on camera while the emotional impact remained as well as the almost haunting presence of the killer and his intentions.

-the florida project: 9/10 another one that's been collecting dust on my watchlist for a while now i was absolutely enchanted by every aspect of it. the honest depiction of childhood and a very american poverty was striking. the gorgeous use of colours brought the vibrance of childhood back even in the dilapidated americana of it all. the acting really shone, willam defoe slayed of course but the kids are what make it special. and that final shot.

-we're all going to the worlds fair: 8/10 such an interesting film, nothing has ever quite captured the echoing loneliness that existence on the internet can create like this before. i loved the aspect of the accidental acting in search of connection, to me the lead-caseys-personal experience reads as completely honest without necessarily pointing to the spooky aspects being beyond her own mind. the film's atmosphere remains evenly eerie throughout, actually spooking me a little at times. the incredible, universal isolation of each character was really well portrayed with no conversations taking place without some barrier (a screen, a door) and i loved the framing of the fair itself, especially in contrast to the bleak monotonous world of empty snowed-in woodland and soulless frosty towns that casey occupies. the lead actress did such a good job portraying casey and her shifting identity and breakdowns. the director's transness cannot be ignored and the film as an allegory for dysphoria works so well. all this set to the droning instrumentals of alex g creates such a foreboding ambiance i couldn't help but love. definitely one of my favourite watches so far.

-shiva baby: 8/10 oh boy so stressful but also really fun. im starting to really like rachel sennott, looking forward to seeing more of her in stuff soon; speaking of bottoms looks like it's gonna be so good.

-red, white and royal blue: look, we know this is not my kind of thing, i get why people like it but for me this one especially with the indescribably weird political message is just not good, i didn't like the book and i don't like the film. gay people should have cheesy bad films though so its fine.

-when harry met sally: 9/10 this is one of those films i always thought i'd get round to eventually and i was suprised how much i liked it. really really cute, made me believe in love again or something. meg ryans hair was stunning also.

-marry my dead body: 7/10 i definitely enjoyed watching this but if i was being haunted by a twink drastic things would happen and they would not be good. i liked the characters well enough and the mafia(?) plot was fun, action sequences were okay and i'll be charmed by most ghost plots plus a kooky grandparent? great film recipe.

-juno: 10/10 knew i'd love this and boy did i! everything about it was just so charming, the dialogue and mannerisms of the characters (except jason batemans who was so so scary), the soundtrack, the aesthetics and did i mention the soundtrack!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! i love kimya dawson so much. just a wonderful little film.

-submarine: 8/10 i'm a fan of richard ayode but i think this is his only directorial work of his i've seen and i have to say i really enjoyed it. the cinematography was really cool, i liked the use of symmetry and colour, especially the assigning a colour to each character, that's my shit; stand-out shot for me was the dream sequence over the dam drain thing- i love a water motif used to represent inner turmoil of a character- olivers basically kendall roy if logan was welsh instead of scottish. i know people love the score but i never got into the artic monkeys cause i'm not a huge fan of alex turners voice so a series of songs written and performed by the man didn't exactly stand out to me, but they seemed lyrically cool. i love the awkward stilted dialogue and the oddity of the main characters, they're not exactly likeable but that for me doesn't detract from the film. also his dad was a freak called lloyd and i love him.

-bound: 10/10 i mean what can i say, it's a lesbian crime thriller and if you don't think im gonna love that you're crazy. the plot is really compelling and corky and violet are an even more compelling. i enjoyed it. (also add this to my list of really good films made in 1996)

-bombshell: 2/10 lazy liberal feminism, i watched for margot and kate

-bones and all: 10/10 cannibalism in media <3<3<3 i also really enjoy a bit of Southern Gothic in my films so this was always gonna be a hit with me, even if i had to look past timothys presence. from the start the atmosphere is intense, the rural desolate setting, the immediate social and then literal isolation of maren really keeps the foreboding building only broken by the sudden violence. cannibalism works so well here as queer coding (and everywhere else, don't get me started). the weird balance of such realistic settings and this unchangeable almost supernatural aspect of biological 'survival cannibalism' is so interesting; and the romance element of the film worked really well for me.

-werewolves within: 6/10 a fun little horror comedy, i thought i would like it more but the humour wasn't quite my thing, a little millenial maybe. i still enjoyed it and it was a nice film to watch with my mam.

-as above, so below: 7/10 subpar acting and script writing made up for by such a good concept, Dantes Inferno as the catacombs absolutely slayed, and i was actually pretty spooked a couple times which doesn't usually happen to me beyond overreacting to jumpscares, which while im on the subject the jumpscares here were really well done, didn't feel lazy to me at all. it does need to be said that it really feels like they had a good concept but needed to work the script and plot more, the horror could use some backup from a better-written storyline and better justification for the character's endings.

-primal fear: 8/10 young edward norton was a real standout here. definitely an interesting legal mystery thriller, i think the twist would probably be more impactful back in 1996 (good year for film), it felt a little played out at this point but still very well done.

-slums of beverly hills: 7/10 i love a good coming-of-age and also natasha lyonne so i definitely enjoyed this. don't love the way some topics were glossed over but what can you do.

-fifty shades of grey: bad.

-vampires suck: 6/10 a funny little parody, mentioned the black eyed peas.

-weird: the al yankovic story: 7/10 daniel radcliff as a freak strikes again. definitely my favourite musician biopic i've seen so far. charming in its ridiculousness.

-ginger snaps: 9/10 a coming of age horror which conflates the begining of puberty to the transformation of warewolfism. i really appreciated the body horror elements as a cronenberg fan and i just think the horror was done really well. the two main characters were played so well and it was quite funny at times. i liked the interpretation of lycanthropy as a disease and the route of cure the characters used. would definitely recommend!

-insidious: 5/10 while i didn't find it especially scary i think the horror was well done and the plot was actually quite interesting! astral projection is quite a unique look at a ghost story and i loved that it was a person being haunted not a house, it was a good subversion. i did watch for leigh whannell and he made such a fun supporting character among some pretty meh main characters. definetely not a bad film!

-no hard feelings: 6/10 so fun! im so glad more stuff like this is coming out again and i mean jennifer lawrence slayed so hard. weird how people are such prudes about female nudity still, it wasn't like she was being overly sexualised in the scene but people are making such a huge deal out of it, i thought it made for a funny moment. i really enjoyed the characters and their relationship felt very real and cute! also depicted modern teenagers as very scary which i approve of.

-ghost world: 8/10 a really interesting look at two girls stuck in limbo between high school and adulthood. i really liked the depiction of enid avidly avoiding confronting moving on and how she inadvertently hurts everyone around her by being so casually selfish and how shes contrasted by rebecca (also scar jo slayed here gave absoloutely nothing, such a good character). the aesthetics of the film were really fun, with the delapedated city really highlighting the girls and also how fun the costuming was. steve buscemi also had a standout performance in which he was an awkward freak and a pretentious asshole about music! what a slay.

i really enjoyed doing this, it kind of forced me to actually engage in the media i was consuming past the casual level i usually find myself on. and it sure beat watching tiktok for six hours before bed.

[modelbus]

gaytoadwithapopsicle asked:

Hi!!! I’m new but ur so talented!!! Can I request CC!Tommy with a vv outgoing reader who also has social anxiety?

Like they yell and are themselves out in public but then get scared they annoy people?

It’s cool if not but just know you’re great at writing hun!/p

Hello!! Thank you so much! And thank you for the meme also, it is much appreciated. My apologies that this isn't long, AP classes are killing me slowly.

Pier Panic

Pairing: CC!Tommy x Gn!Reader

Hanging out with Tommy always meant fun. There wasn't a second where you weren't smiling when around him, in public or in private. Which was why, when invited to mess around at pier with him, you just couldn't refuse.

You two were goofing around, being general public nuisances. He had stumbled upon a topic you were both passionate about, so you two had just been progressively getting louder and louder by the minute. Yelling, accompanied with waving hands, wasn't new to you two at all.

That didn't mean other people weren't bothered though.

Standing on a bench to gain height on Tommy, you throw your arms wide as if motioning to the entire world before spinning around. He laughs as you do, loud and carefree.

While spinning, you catch sight of all the eyes on you. It was a lot, even for you two. When your spin completes you push it out of your mind for now. It shouldn't bother you. Besides, you're with Tommy!

Joining in on his laughter when you nearly fall, you turn your back resolutely towards all the stares. You were just being yourself, there was nothing wrong with that. Right?

Before you have the possibility to even go down that rabbit hole, Tommy's changing topics.

"Race you to the end, loser gets to tweet something from the others phone!" He screams, running.

Shit, he could and would do a lot of damage. You had to beat him.

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

Later, when the day tips into night, dark blue splashing against the perfect canvas of light blue, you think back on earlier. Even though it's hours later, it just won't leave your mind.

Were all those people glaring at you?

They were definitely staring, but you're pretty sure you saw someone glaring at you. Someone who hated you so much that they put in the effort to glare.

Were you that annoying? Were you too much?

Being yourself always came naturally in public, where you'd push the opinions of others aside. But now, essentially alone (save for Tommy), all those opinions started pressing on your mind. No, not pressing. Pounding.

Even with Tommy in the other room the thoughts didn't seep away. You were on his couch, waiting for him to finish something on his computer so you two could watch a movie, when your mind turns against you.

Maybe you were too annoying today. Too much. Too... you. Should you have been that loud?

"Fucking finally." Tommy sighs, walking out of his room. "I thought the stupid video would never render."

Caught up in your thoughts, a swirling storm of anxiety, you don't answer for a moment. When you finally do, it's not what you meant to say at all.

"Do you think I'm annoying?"

Despite the vulnerability shining through your words, the fact they aren't what you wanted to respond, you wait for him to answer. Because you do want to know. He'll answer honestly, you're sure of it.

You turn your head to catch sight of his expression. His eyes are wide, disbelieving.

"No!" He says adamantly. "You're yourself!"

"But is being myself annoying?" You clarify.

"No. And anyone who says other is just a- a- a fucking wanker. Their opinion doesn't matter." A grin spreads across his face slowly. "Mine does, obviously, and I say you aren't."

You laugh, the flurry of anxiety calming. You weren't annoying, not according to Tommy. And like he said: his opinion matters.

"Thanks."

"Course. Now I say we watch Up."

[mikalara-dracula]

Rainy days with their s/o

ft. Yuma and Subaru

Warning: 18+ content below; don't read if you're a minor.

Yuma:

Well, since he can’t garden that day, he’s quite bored and out of ideas as to what to do.

He’d be kinda grumpy about it, especially if he was planning to plant something new that day.

“Man, out of all days it has to rain today.”

“You say that every time it rains. It’s mother nature’s way of doing things. You can’t change it.”

“Tch! What does she know?!”

He’d eventually get over the fact that he can’t garden and would sit down and watch a little TV with you, however, he’s always judging everything that’s on.

For example, if a movie or show is on and he doesn’t really like it, he’ll criticize the characters he finds stupid.

“That guy’s an idiot. That’s not how you get a girl.”

“Oh, and I suppose you know?”

“How do you think I got you, little pig.” He’d grin, making you hit him playfully.

On days like this, he tends to get clingy because he has nothing else to do.

Basically, without his garden he’s lost on what to do and will constantly tease and bother you throughout the day.

For example, since it’s rainy outside, you figured you’d make yourself a nice hot chocolate since it corresponded well with the weather.

However, as you were drinking it in the kitchen, he came in and decided to bother you about what you were doing.

“What are you drinking, little pig?”

“A hot chocolate.” You’d smile.

“Oh good, maybe you’ll gain a little and it’ll go where I want it most.” He’d grin while reaching behind to clutch your ass xDD.

“Yuma! Is that all you care about?!”

“Hey, this little pig’s ass belongs to me, so I get to decide how big I want it.”

If you two are cuddling on the couch, he absolutely refuses to let you go. He literally treats you as if you’re his body pillow.

“Yuma, let me go.”

“Fight your way out of it, little pig.” He’d grin, finding your struggle funny.

Since there isn’t much to do on days like this, he might allow you to style his hair any way you want and might even do yours.

Believe it or not, he's an expert at braiding. His favorite style is a fishtail braid and he thinks it looks beautiful on you.

His talent for braiding is so versed that even his brothers might comment as to how pretty it looks on you.

"It looks so . . . nice, Y/N." Azusa would comment.

"Wow little maso-kitty, it looks great on you. Did Yuma do that?" Kou would add.

"As expected, Yuma's known for such styles. You display it well." Ruki would admit.

“Yeah, only the best for my little pig.” Yuma would smirk, a subtle boast in his tone, causing you to blush at his statement.

He likes giving you piggy back rides throughout the house, but he’ll pretend to drop you just to scare you because he’s an asshole.

With all this boredom, Yuma might even get into asking you a few dirty riddles.

"Hey little pig, what's six inches long, goes in your mouth and is more fun if it vibrates?"

"Yuma!"

"Damn, little pig, I didn't know you could be so dirty-minded. I'm just talking about a toothbrush."

"Well it certainly didn't sound that way."

"My god! How could you think such a thing?” He said, acting oh-so innocent, a smirk soon appearing on his face, showing his true colors. “Oh, I get it, you wanted it to be something else."

“What are you-,”

“C’mere, little pig.” He’d say, tackling and pinning you to a nearby couch, starting to tickle you.

"No! Stop!'' You'd squeal, Yuma still continuing to tickle you as you laughed beneath him.

At one point he might grow fed up with the rain and decide to go outside anyways.

"Y’know what, this is stupid. C'mon, little pig. We're not gonna let a little rain tell us what to do." He’d say, taking you by your wrist and dragging you behind him.

"Yuma, wai-,"

He’d continue running and drag you outside in the pouring rain, making you get soaking wet as he picks you up into his arms and spins you around, his lips melding onto yours as he’d hungrily kiss you. He’d soon pull away and put you down, a scowl on your face due to him getting you drenched in mother nature’s tears.

“Yuma! You got me all wet!”

"Damn, I tried to make this romantic and you're complaining about getting wet?"

You’d sigh, “Getting romantic doesn’t mean getting wet!”

“Oh really?” He’d smirk. “Then how come my little pig gets wet every time I-,”

“Shut up!” You’d say, hitting him playfully, causing him to laugh.

Subaru:

Doesn’t care if it’s rainy or not since he doesn’t really go out.

However, if it’s raining at night time and he wants to go in the rose garden, he might be a little irritated about it.

And since he doesn’t have any hobbies, this is a little hard on him.

Plus, since he’s a tsundere, he'll act pretty annoyed in general, even going down to being a total ass.

Compared to Yuma, he gets clingy in a different way--that is, he secretly hopes that you’ll spend time with him since he can’t go out to the garden.

If you’re busy doing your own stuff tho, he’ll attempt to get involved but will act like he’s disinterested in doing so.

But it’s not like you mind him getting involved--that is, if he’s being genuine.

For example, you were once sitting down at the table working on your homework late at night, finishing up the last thing for your assignment when he walked in and came up behind you.

He placed his head in the crook of your neck, being curious about what you were doing as his gaze traveled to the assignment you were working on.

“What are you doing?”

“Homework.” You’d answer.

“Tch! What a pain.”

“It’s not so bad, I’m almost done.”

“Why don’t you just take a break?”

“Subaru, there’s really no point since I’m close to finishing.” You’d say going back to your work, but of course, the white-haired vampire had to persist.

He lifted up his face from the crook of your neck and took notice of your exposed bra strap. A smirk grew on his face and being the tease that he is, he’d take his fingers and use them to pull on it and have smack against your skin just to annoy you and throw you off guard.

“What the hell?”

“It’s not my fault it was right there, you should hide it better next time.” He’d smirk.

If the atmosphere is quiet and he sees you’re busy but doesn’t want to bother you, he’ll just watch what you’re doing whilst you’re busy working and shuffling around doing your stuff. With watching the way your body moves and the look of concentration on your face, it builds up a lot of sexual tension as he'd stand by with his arms crossed in hopes that something intimate happens or is initiated.

Oh the things this bby car imagines xDD.

He’ll also try to get involved in other things you’d be doing as well, such as crafts.

After finishing your homework, you decided to do something a bit more productive, so you decided to go work on a painting you had been working on. You’d get pretty focused and concentrated, that is until Subaru came up behind you and decided to intervene.

“What are you up to now?”

“Painting.”

“Tch! Lame.”

He’d just continue to stand there, his figure still looming over yours. An idea soon hit you. You knew he was bored, so you decided to make painting time a little more fun.

Turning to him, you’d ask, “Hey, why don’t you help.”

“Huh?”

“Help me with the painting.”

“Do I look like Picasso to you?” He’d sarcastically remark.

“Subaru, it doesn’t matter what it looks like in the end. What matters is the fun you have when painting.”

“Tch! That’s stupid.” He’d retort.

“Alright, then. Suit yourself.”

Since he didn’t want to, you turned around and began painting again.

Deep down, Subaru secretly found your offer to be sweet since he really didn’t mind helping and wanted to spend time with you, but because he has a hard time expressing his emotions through his tough exterior, it always came off as if he didn’t care.

The white-haired vampire sighed, feeling torn between the feeling of wanting to do something memorable with you versus him getting caught doing something crafty by one of his brothers, but because you were more important, he decided to help.

“Alright, where do you want me to begin?” He’d say picking up a brush and sitting down next to you.

Taken back by his sudden decision, you’d say. “Oh, um, you can start over here.” You’d say, pointing to a blank space on the canvas. “Just paint it blue for now and then I’ll tell you what to do from there.”

He said nothing and began to do what you asked him, both of you working hard on the masterpiece.

While working, you’d occasionally sneak a few glances at him, seeing how his progress was going.

You honestly had to admit how attractive Subaru looked when he was concentrated on something, the way his eyes angled themselves as they narrowed in on the area he was working on, a few stray locks being in his face, his lips being ajar and lurid in the lighting as he continued to work.

To be honest, you definitely had to ask him to paint more often with you.

He definitely looked busy, an idea striking you again but in a more playful aspect. Since he looked so concentrated, you dipped your finger into the paint and smeared some on his cheek.

“Hey! What the hell?!”

You honestly couldn’t help but laugh, leading him to grin, “Oh, you think that’s funny? Then how about this?”

He’d be quick to dip multiple fingers in the paint and smear it all over your face. Accepting his challenge, you were quick to dip your hand in paint and smear it all over his face as payback, but this was far from over.

This ended up becoming an entire paint war, you and Subaru’s laughter echoing as you chased each other about the room and continued to smear and splatter paint on each other, both of you becoming a colored mess as the walls became vandalized in the process.

“I’m gonna get you, Y/N. You’re gonna look like a rainbow by the time this is over.” He’d grin, his hand fully loaded with paint being ready to rub it on you.

“Catch me if you can!” You’d tease sticking your tongue out, whilst running away from him.

It was all fun and games however, until Reiji came in and saw the mess, leading him to scold you two.

“What is the meaning of this?”

You both would be quick to blame it on each other as you’d talk over each other in unison, but Reiji didn’t care to hear excuses.

“Please see to it that this is cleaned up, otherwise I’ll have to discipline the two of you thoroughly.” He’d say, quickly taking his leave as you both laughed about what happened, soon cleaning it up together.

On rainy nights, he might show a bit of a soft side.

However, bear in mind that he will be quick to lean back into his tsundere side if he thinks the moment is getting too soft.

Likes to lay in his coffin with you if you both want to relax. He’ll act annoyed the entire time due to him being a tsundere, but secretly, he loves the fact that you’re next to him.

Likes to have you sit in his lap, while you’re reading, having a blanket draped over the both of you, whilst he’d rest his face in the crook of your neck. He honestly loves being so close to you, but he’d never admit it.

Here, he might take the opportunity to either place a soft kiss on your neck or bite your shoulder if he’s feeling thirsty.

He likes to cuddle and lay on top of you, but won't let you leave to do anything else because he's so clingy.

"Subaru, let me go."

"Not a chance."

When he’s not being soft, you two are bound to bicker about the stupidest things--like heights, for example, leading him to become a total mess.

"You're not taller than me, Y/N. We've been over this."

"Oh no?" You’d sass, stepping onto his coffin, being slightly taller than him now. "How about now?"

He scoffed, a grin appearing on his face as he’d playfully grab you and pin you onto a nearby wall, giving you the greediest and lustful kisses as you both kept laughing in unison.

Might let you style his hair, such as putting it up into a ponytail or style it in some other way.

You once put bows in his hair and he was so annoyed by it at first, but he eventually started to find it funny and began laughing with you, but that was all until Laito came in and took a picture of him with his new style.

“Fufu~, love the new look, Subaru. I’ve gotta say it suits you.”

“Why you!” He’d hiss, quickly running after him to make him delete the photo and beat the living crap out of him for doing that and seeing him in such a state.

On rainy nights, be prepared for a lot of fun and games because apart from paint wars, Subaru can take things to a whole new level.

Since it was raining and you couldn’t go anywhere, you decided to try out a new makeup style.

And of course, he’d have to get into your business and tell you he finds it stupid.

"Tch! Why do girls even wear that shit?!"

"Oh shut up, you boys like it. Don't lie.”

“Whatever.” He’d retort, saying nothing else.

You sighed knowing he was bored, so you asked the unthinkable once again to help him cope with not being able to go out because of the rain.

“Do you want help?”

“Help? With what?”

“With this new makeup style.”

“Tch! Seriously?”

“All you have to do is add the eyeshadow and lipstick. I’m not asking you to do anything crazy.”

Sighing and knowing it was better than doing nothing, he’d say, “Fine.”

He’d turn you to him so he could have better access to your face to apply the makeup.

“Just don't make me look like a clown.” You’d warn closing your eyes, allowing Subaru to put on the eyeshadow.

This is when he was struck with a mischievous idea, an infamous smirk twisting on his lips as he applied the makeup to your face.

And after what seemed like quite some time, he finally finished.

“Okay, it’s done.”

You’d sigh, “Finally, I can’t wait to see it. I’m sure it looks amazing.”

“You bet it does.” He’d mutter under his breath, it not being loud enough for you to hear.

Opening your eyes, you looked at your reflection in the mirror and screamed. The makeup looked so bad, maybe worse than a clown.

"Subaru!"

“Ha! What a face!” He’d scoff.

“Ass!” You’d hiss, chasing him around the room as he’d laugh.

Now because you couldn’t let him get away with what he did, as payback you decided to draw a mustache on him while he was sleeping.

When he woke up and saw his reflection in the mirror he grew shocked, and instantly knew it was you who had done it.

(Ik vampires typically can’t see their reflection in a mirror, but I’m not sure about DL here, but let’s just assume that he can considering it hasn’t been mentioned (maybe I’m wrong here??); and also because Reiji implied that some human-made vulnerabilities don’t apply to them, so this might not).

“Y/N!”

“Payback's a bitch isn't it?” You’d giggle, standing a few feet away from him.

“Now, you're gonna get it!” He’d say, chasing you around to no end, only leaving you to laugh as he kept running after you.

[discotechque]

but would you tell me if you want me?

pairing: abed nadir/m! reader word count: 1.3k rating: T requested: yes

im really sorry this took so long but i had no idea what to write and idk bc i love abed so much but here it is

Abed is aware of the natural progressions in a relationship ( he’s seen cookie cutter romances blasted through a projector ). It’s always meeting with witty banter or shy smiles which doesn’t correlate with anything he’s experienced. Anxious hands inching towards each other underneath a gingham table cloth and when he attempted it, it only resulted with scraping past wet gum. And casual kisses that appear to be monoliths within relationships.

Films make it seem so easy but those are characters who have people be paid to bring humanity to them. Lacking a certain complexity about the human psyche and varying reactions to unprompted actions. How do you kiss someone without needing to ask? Does asking enhance the experience? When is the right time to kiss someone? It’s a series of questions with no real answer and he’s uncertain if he’s willing to hear the truth.

He thinks that now is better than never but he would never purposely cross boundaries that have not been set. ( He didn’t meet you in a scripted manner, he would not want that. ) Yet, Jeff and Britta have already given him tips; Pierce has starting saying nonsensical things he tunes out; and Troy, Annie, and Shirley are the only ones who seem to understand the natural progression of dating.

Now is better than never. He’s never certain as to when now is.

He sits on the floor of his apartment, slowly watching you shift through his DVD collection. Pondering what you might pick before jumping into his arms again. It’s a domestic scene, one he might’ve missed if he waited. Now is better than never but a kiss is different than a date. It’s different wanting to see what his lips feel like pressed against yours.

“Are you fine with Corpse Bride again?” he doesn’t answer, instead watching as you sit back on the couch and adjust to fit in his arms. He was made to mold around your form. “Abed?”

He blinks. Once then twice.

Nodding even though the question has fallen deaf against his ears. “Totally,”

“Awesome, cause I was worried you were gonna get bored watching this movie again and I was thinking of Kauffman but that just gets you tired. So maybe comfort was a nice go to, y’know?”

Abed doesn’t know, he just watches you ramble about things and enjoys the haven he finds within the action. Knowing what makes him tick and reminding him of it. A saccharine feeling settling within the scene. He loves it, he loves what you do, he loves you.

He rushes in as he catches your wide eyed stare. A yelp leaving you as his forehead bumps against yours and his nose pokes your cheek. “Ack!” The sound leaves you both as you nurse surface level wounds that will wear off within minutes. He’s quick to cover his face, find solace in the darkness so he does not have to spare another thought to this onslaught of embarrassment.

“Abed?” you softly ask but he does not move his shield of fingers until your gently pull them down.

He watched you, he could watch you forever and never be bored by the prospect. Yet, it is not the time for romantic idles that will only keep him stalling from the truth. He tried his hand at unprompted gestures that only failed. Abed Nadir is swearing off from impulsivity ( an unlikely promise ).

“Did you want to kiss me?” you inquire and the soft grin that tugs on your lips only furthers the small pot of humiliation harboring at his stomach. You are a complex being, one he did not imagine and plays along with his endless ideas ( so many that are questionable but you still stay ).

“You could’ve just asked.”

You say as if its the most obvious thing in the world. It is, but he does not want to accept it.

“I—” Abed wants to protest but his lips fail to form any retort that could be reasonable. “I thought this would be more romantic like Pretty Woman.”

He thought romance was chronological. That there’s a right timing as to when moves can be brought out and what would make his boyfriend less upset. However, divine timing seems fictional at the moment.

“Wasn’t Julia Roberts a prostitute in that?” you question, smile only seeming to grow by the second. Ignoring his plight, instead trying a joke to help seal his hurt. You know him like the stars do the moon.

He retorts, “Do prostitutes not deserve romance?”

Your lips purse in thought, only pretending. A small huff leaving him as you do. He wouldn’t trade moments like these for some so formulaic and scripted. ( You’re real and all he’s ever wanted. ) The smile soon returns your lips with a firm nod.

“Very astute observation, Mister Nadir. I think that deserves a real kiss.”

Slowly, you lean in. Unleashing any prior tension as your fingers brush past his face and your mouth finds his. He doesn’t know what you taste like, a bit like toothpaste and chocolate that sit right upon his tongue as it glides along your bottom lip. Everything about this is new and untimed.

It’s the best kiss he’s ever had, he realizes after you lean back. His fingers loosely pressing into your waist as you still caress his face. ( His whole life in his hands. )

“We should do that again sometime,” he adds after and presses another peck to the corner of your mouth.

[xiaojusaur]

7 Minutes in Heaven

Pairing: Friends to Lovers! Hendery x Reader

Genre: Fluff, Angst, Smut, Comedy

Warnings: car sex, fingering, squirting, dirty talking, multiple orgasms, mentions of masturbation, mentions of alcohol consumption.

Word Count: 6K

Description: Hendery was the new guy in class who didn’t know how to talk English well, that’s how you first start talking and then became good friends. You had a crush on him, but he didn’t know. Everything changed at a frat party; you shouldn’t have played 7 minutes in heaven with your friend.

You were accustomed to arrive early to the classroom because there was a certain desk you liked, plus you didn’t like being either too close or too far to the professor. Sometimes you really didn’t feel like paying attention, and today was one of those days.

On the way, you met with your best friend, but you couldn’t enroll in the same classes this semester, so she had to leave quickly.

When you got to the classroom, there was a new face and he was sitting on your favorite place. The shock froze you in place, he hadn’t noticed you were there as he was writing something down on his notebook and his dark mane was covering his face.

You decided to be nice and just sit on the desk on his left. When he was aware of your presence, he turned his head to you, your eyes meeting when you raised your glance. You smiled and he smiled back. He was cute. You both kept quiet until the rest of the classmates and the professor arrived.

“Class! We have a new student with us! Hendery, please say hello!” Your professor introduced the new guy to your right. He waved shyly. “Please be patient with him, he doesn’t know much English. He came all the way from Macau. If you guys see him struggling, please give him a hand,” your professor continued.

So that’s why he was so silent! He seemed so nice and you having a lot of empathy, could feel he was feeling anxious. It must’ve been hard not being able to communicate well.

The class continued and you were distracted with the fact that maybe Hendery couldn’t understand well what was being discussed. He looked so focused, you didn’t dare to interrupt him because maybe he was trying to do his best. So you waited for the class to be over and when he was about to leave, you stopped him.

“Hey, wait a minute!” You whisper-shouted.

He turned around and his face seemed to light up.

“Are you okay? Did you understand the class?” You asked him.

“Yeah, I tried my best,” he shrugged and then giggled.

You giggled with him and then said, “If you ever need help to understand something, just ask me, okay?”

“Alright! Thank you!” He seemed genuinely happy that you were willing to help him.

“Do you know anyone around?” you didn’t want him to be alone.

“Yeah, I have a friend. I will meet him now to get lunch,” he explained.

“That’s good!” You nodded.

“Do you want to join us?” He asked you.

“That’s alright! I’ll meet with my best friend too,” you answered.

“Oh okay, see you later then,” he was about to leave when he remembered he didn’t know your name. “Oh! Wait! What’s your name?”

“Y/N,” you smiled to him one last time before he nodded and left.

The months went on like that. Hendery occasionally came for help, he liked teaming up with your for group projects, and he even invited you to lunch a few times. You liked spending time together and slowly, he merged into your group of friends, bringing his group of friends also.

His English got better and better, he was almost and expert, even though he had a cute accent.

You found yourself having a huge crush on him, but you swore you would never tell him. For you, he was way out of your league, you weren’t his type, and you didn’t even know about his language, though he had tried several times to teach you some words and expressions.

“Hey!” He arrived to your apartment without notice to find you curled up in your sofa watching a movie.

“Hi! What’s up?” You said while checking your phone to see if he had texted you, finding an empty screen.

“So, tonight’s there’s this frat party from the frat house Yangyang is in, do you maybe wanna go?” He then smiled widely, trying to convince you.

“I don’t know... I’m not in the mood for partying today,” you replied while cuddling the cushion.

“Come onnn!” He flopped by your side on the couch, “Lyndsey is gonna be there! She’s gonna stalk me the whole night!” He groaned.

“Well, that’s your own fault! You dicked her down and she got addicted,” you shrugged, laughing at him later.

“Hey! I was in need!” He explained unnecessarily.

“You guys can’t last a week without pussy, that’s sad, you know,” you were mocking him.

“It’s in our nature, what can we do? Plus, how long has it been since you got laid?” He was smirking, trying to make fun of you.

“Shut up,” you pushed him playfully.

“So come on!!!! Let’s go to the frat party!” He started shaking you by the arm.

“Alright! Alright! Ugh! You’re so annoying!” You jumped to your feet and went to your room to change, your quick choice being a pair of jeans, a turtleneck shirt, a bomber college jacket, and some sneakers. You texted your best friend.

Hey! Are you going to that frat party?

Idk... are you?

Dery is making me go. Something about Lyndsey and stuff

Sucks. I can accompany you

Please! It’s possible he finds someone else and leaves me alone there surrounded by strangers

Fine, I’ll throw something on and see you there.

You got out of your room and Hendery was there, laying back on the couch while watching the TV. He looked so cute. You couldn’t believe you had a crush on him and he hadn’t noticed.

“We’re ready to go,” you announced and he looked at you from head to toe and back up. He catcalled you as a joke, “Look at my bestie gooo! She’s gonna seduce some men!”

You rolled your eyes and said, “Let’s go before I change my mind.”

“Fine, let’s go!”

At the party, you met with your best friend while Hendery went with his friends. Everyone was wilding, playing beer pong, dancing, drinking, making out on the corners.

You stayed by your friend’s side, dancing and drinking. Hendery found you in the crowd and started dancing with you too, after all, you were that comfortable with each other. He grabbed your hips and was grinding on you while you followed his hips. When the song finished he said he was gonna get more alcohol while you ran to your best friend again.

“Are you not gonna tell him ever?” She asked you, talking about your huge crush in Hendery.

“I don’t think I will. I mean, we’re okay as we are,” you shrugged. You didn’t want to lose his friendship and you thought that if you told him, everything would turn awkward, so you just decided to keep it to yourself.

As the night went by, people started to get sleepy, some passing out on the couches, others disappeared who knows where. Only a few were still alive and among them were Hendery, your friend, the infamous Lyndsey, and you. Someone had the bright idea of playing 7 minutes in heaven just for the sake of relieving high school memories, so you all sat on the floor in circle. Some random guy looked for an empty bottle that would choose the lucky couples. You were sitting across Hendery, who looked spaced out, probably drunk already and being stalked by Lyndsey. The poor girl’s eyes were shining with high hopes of getting a chance to be alone with Dery again. You were mocking him and he was acting annoyed.

As the game progressed, many random couples got to be locked in the darkness of the closet. Your friend matched with the very hot Jaehyun guy from English class but she didn’t spill anything. While you were teasing her, you heard Hendery’s name along with some noise by his friends. You were about to start mocking him too when you noticed the bottle was pointing at you.

You swear your surroundings froze in time. Your friend’s eyes widened because she knew how you felt. Hendery tho, was excited because after all, it was you and he wouldn’t feel so awkward.

“Aren’t you going?” Said the guy who had the control of spinning the bottle, Lyndsey looked at you and then to Hendery, expecting you to not go. Hendery actually helped you to stand up and basically dragged you into the closet with him. Before locking the door, the guy with the timer said, “Whatever you do, you have 7 minutes. Nothing more,” and with that, he left you two alone in the darkness of the closet.

You were holding into Hendery’s arms, maybe to know he was there, maybe as a support, or perhaps because you wanted to feel him close.

“Well, at least I’m saved from Lyndsey,” he laughed nervously.

“Yup, once again, I am your savior,” you remarked.

Being alone with Hendery wasn’t awkward usually, but there was some weird tension going on in the tiny space of the closet.

“What should we do?” He asked in a whisper, the air emitting from his lips blowing you right on the face because he was too close.

“I don’t know... talk? We’re friends, this isn’t weird,” you tried to convince yourself.

“I mean... yeah...”

“These had been the longest seven minutes of my life,” you stated.

“Let’s kiss, maybe that would make it less awkward and the time will go faster,” Hendery suggested and you swear the butterflies in your stomach made a tornado.

“You think kissing between friends is less awkward?” You asked confused.

“Well yeah, I mean, we’re friends. It shouldn’t be weird, it’s only a kiss,” he said, ignorant of your feelings for him.

“Okay then,” you agreed, “but let’s not allow this to make us awkward after, alright?”

“Promise,” he gave you his pinky to hook with yours.

In less than a second, his lips crashed on yours. You thought it was just gonna be a peck, but then he started moving his lips, and automatically, yours responded. His tongue darted between your lips, looking for yours to tangle with. Your arms snaked around his neck, while his wrapped around your waist, bringing you even more closer. Having him like this sparked the feeling inside you more: you were in love with this guy without remedy.

When you two were getting comfortable with it, you heard the alarm outside, indicating time was up. You detangled from each other, fixing your hair and your clothes to make it seem that nothing had happened. Everyone knew you two were best friends and to give the tiniest hint that you had done anything in there would be enough for your group of friends to start teasing you. When the door opened, you went on with your normal friendship and acted as if you haven’t kissed passionately a few minutes ago.

You were too overwhelmed, so you decided to leave with your friend. Hendery stayed. He was probably gonna crash in with the boys.

On the way back, your friend was telling you about her experience with Jaehyun, and then she remembered your time with Hendery.

“Did anything happen in there? You two looked pretty normal to me,” she inquired.

“Well... we kissed,” you shrugged.

“I knew it -wait what?!” She was shocked! “You kissed? As in a peck or-?”

“As in full tongue,” you nodded.

“Oh my God...... how do you feel?” She was concerned now.

“Like I’m in love... I feel like as soon as his lips touched mine, I was done, I completely fell in love with him,” you confessed.

“Oh no.... what you gonna do now?” She asked.

“Try to not be awkward and act as if it was nothing. Friends can kiss right?” You fake-smiled.

“No they cannot! Friends with benefits do... but I don’t think you’re there yet,” she scratched her neck.

“I’m fucked aren’t I?”

“Very...”

You tried avoiding Hendery until you felt better and collected your thoughts, but that was kinda impossible since he was everywhere and he looked for you everyday. So you did your best to not looked like you were having a turmoil of feelings every time you saw his stupid, beautiful face.

There you were, having lunch all together. He was talking about how he wanted to talk to a cute girl who was a few tables away. Your friend placed her hand on top of yours in silent support.

Honestly, you didn’t know what was up with you. He usually talked to you about his affairs with other females and you weren’t this affected, but today you were bothered by it. While his friends celebrated that he was going to get her number, you stood up and left with the excuse of having to study because of a test. Your friend followed you.

“I think you need to talk to him,” she suggested.

“I don’t know. I feel is going to be useless,” you grunted.

“Y/N, it has gotten to a point where you’re always fuming. He will start noticing your behavior soon if you keep this up, so my advice is that you two sit down and talk this out,” she stepped in front of you.

“There’s nothing to talk about! He doesn’t feel the same way I do. I’m the one trying to ruin our friendship,” you said as you threw your hands in the air in frustration.

“First of all, you don’t know that. Second of all, if you keep bottling it, you’re gonna explode and it’s going to be worse. And that’s not ruining a friendship, it’s only natural you like him. You spend time together, he knows you well, he brings you snacks...” Your friend was trying to talk reason back to you.

You whined, “But how am I supposed to tell him? I can’t just sit him down and tell him, ‘Listen, I have this huge crush on you, please love me back’, he’s a guy, he won’t understand.”

“Well, if he feels the same way he WILL understand,” she said matter-of-factly.

“That isn’t helping! Ughhh! I need to plan something... something that looks casual but it’s the right moment, you know what I mean?”

“How about... how about you invite him to watch a movie? That’s something you guys do often, right?” She suggested and you nodded. “You watch a movie, you have your snacks, you cuddle as you always do, and then you tell him. What do you think?” She wiggled her eyebrows and you laughed.

You gasped, “How do you know we cuddle? Are you spying on me?!”

“Come on, let’s be realistic. You two look like cuddly people,” she rolled her eyes.

“Yeah true... your plan sounds good. Imma try it. You’re the best! I don’t know how my life would be without you,” you embraced your friend in gratitude.

At night, you texted Hendery to start with your plan:

Hey, dumbhead

Sup, headache

Do you have plans on Friday night?

Not yet, 为什么？(weishenme - Why)

Why are you texting me in Chinese?! You know I don’t understand! I mean, I’m deducing that means why.

🤪🤪🤪

Anyways! What do you think if we watch that new movie on Netflix?

Sure, I’ll bring snacks

Kay

好！

Now that you had everything planned, you started thinking about what to say and how to say it. You couldn’t just shoot it.

A few hours later, when you were about to go to sleep, you received another text from Hendery. It said it had an image attached. It was strange but you decided to open it. And then regretted it.

Hendery had sent you a spicy picture. It wasn’t a nude but it was pretty suggestive. He was holding his member over his pants, as if to show how big he is without actually showing. Almost a dick pic.

You panicked, you were sure that wasn’t for you. A sudden jealousy took over you because, why was he sending these pics to someone else? But also, your friend-self told you to keep calm and let him know.

Wrong number! Dumbass! Look at the number before sending these kind of things!

He didn’t answer for a while, but then he appeared

I’m sorry!!! Oh God! I’m so embarrassed!

It’s all good. At least you’re not showing anything. My eyes aren’t bleeding yet!

I’m really sorry!

It’s okay! We’re friends...

And you left him with that.

Friday arrived and you were nervous already, waiting for Hendery in your apartment. Around 8PM he knocked on your door and you yelled “Come in!” Too lazy to get up from the couch. He looked comfy but so sexy at the same time.

Hendery brought a lot of snacks and placed them on the low table.

“I brought your favorites and mines, to fix your day!” He said excitedly.

You smiled and replied, “Thanks! I really appreciate it.”

“Let’s get to it!” He yelled and you shushed him laughing, he was so noisy and your neighbors would complain.

You were cuddled up with each other while watching the movie. You were leaning on his chest while he played with your hair with one hand and ate popcorn with the other. You felt his eyes on you, so you looked up and your eyes met. He smiled to you and you smiled back. You didn’t know if it was your imagination but you felt he was getting closer to your mouth. In your panic you didn’t move and opted to let it happen, maybe this was a sign that he liked you back. But then, his lips never touched yours and only centimeters away he said, “Haha, gotcha,” with a groggy voice.

You got angry and couldn’t conceal it anymore. So you got off the couch as quickly as possible.

“What’s wrong?” He asked confused.

The ticking bomb inside you snapped.

“What’s wrong?! You dare to ask me what’s wrong?! Hendery! You just pretended you were going to kiss me and then told me it was a joke!”

“Hey! Calm down! I thought it would be funny! Since you know, we kissed in the game as a joke” His eyes widening in concern.

“So the kiss was a joke to you?” You said crossing your arms tightly.

“I thought it was just a game, it didn’t mean anything,” he explained.

“It did to me!” You blurted, your mouth talking before you could think straight.

He froze and gulped, “What?”

“Nothing,” you turned around and walked to the kitchen.

“Y/N!” He walked behind you, “talk to me! You’re acting really strange lately. You’ve been avoiding me, you get angry about everything... what is wrong? What changed?”

You leaned on the counter, trying to find the correct words. “What changed is...” you gulped and then continued, “My feelings for you, Hendery. That changed.”

He was so puzzled. “I don’t understand...”

“Hendery, I’m in love with you,” you confessed, feeling a relief within you.

You looked at him, his eyes were alarmed, not quite the reaction you were expecting. “I- I- I don’t know what to say...” he stuttered.

“You don’t have to say anything, Hendery...” you muttered.

“I- I’ll be right back...” he walked slowly to the door and left without his things. He didn’t come back.

“Great Y/N, great! You just ruined your friendship,” you said to yourself, running your hands through your hair.

You cleaned your apartment and curled up in your bed, regretting everything you just did.

You two didn’t talk for a week straight, not daring to approach each other. Hendery went to Xiaojun for help because he felt he was losing you and he didn’t want that, but he felt bad for leaving you hanging that night. You were expecting an answer from him, but at that time, he didn’t think you were going to say what you said.

“This is simple, Hendery,” said Xiaojun while cooking something. “How do you feel about her?”

“I don’t know!!!” He whined, pulling his long strands of hair.

“I think you do know, you just don’t want to accept it,” Xiaojun chuckled. “You can be honest with me, you know.”

“Ughhh! Okay,” Hendery groaned. “I think I’m pretty accustomed to her as my best friend that I didn’t think I could actually like her. But now thinking about it well, I feel like my best self when I’m around her. I can be myself and she won’t judge me, she follows my weird behavior, she shares snacks with me...”

“Let me change the question a little bit,” Xiaojun interrupted, “the day of the party, how did you feel when you kissed?”

After thinking about it a little, Hendery answered, “I wanted to keep kissing her. I felt so comfortable in her arms. She’s a great kisser btw,” he drifted away.

“Focus!” Xiaojun yelled.

“Okay, okay! I don’t know, I feel like I would be able to tell if I see her again... but I don’t know how to go back to her,” he sighed.

“How about you do a non-date date, something simple like going for a late night drive,” Xiaojun suggested.

“You’re a genius!” Hendery exclaimed.

“I’m a romantic, which is different,” he pointed out.

It was 12AM on a Friday and you we’re already cuddled in your bed when there was a knock on your door. You threw a hoodie on, to not wear a bra just in case, and went to see who was it.

You felt like the air was punched out of you when you opened the door and saw Hendery’s figure. His hair was disheveled and he was wearing a cream-colored shirt, black joggers, and his glasses: the best look on him. “Hendery...” you said softly.

“Um... hi!” He smiled awkwardly, making him look so cute to you. “Listen, I know we haven’t talked this whole week and I didn’t have the best response to what you said and I’m sorry about that,” he was talking too fast.

“Hey... it’s okay,” you patted him on the arm. “You want to come in?”

“Actually, I came here for you. Do you want to go for a late night drive?” He was swinging, looking pretty nervous.

You sighed, “Do I have to change?”

“Not really, I mean, look at me,” he extended his arms and turned around. You giggled.

“Fine, let me get my shoes,” you ran to your room and put on the first sneakers you found and you both got in his car.

He was just driving around town, both of you being the old friends you were, singing loudly to the songs on the radio, laughing out loud, and watching the neon lights of the places that were open. He got down on a station to buy snacks for both and then kept going.

You ended up on a lonely hill with a view to the city lights. Sitting on the front of his car, you listened to Hendery talked about his life in Macau and what he missed. Then you were playing, trying to guess where were the places among the tiny lights at sight. Like magnets, you cuddled against each other without noticing; the night was getting cold after all. In the chit-chat, the clock marked 3AM. You got in the car again but Hendery didn’t started the car, instead he talked.

“Y/N... I’ve been thinking about what you told me.” There was a long silence between you two, so he continued, “I like the version of me when I’m with you. It’s so easy to not think about what to do or what to say, I can just speak my mind. I really appreciate you.”

“Same here, Dery,” you placed your hand on top of his, which was on his thigh.

“Im sorry for making you feel bad. I really didn’t think straight, I was in utter shock,” he apologized.

“It’s okay, I shouldn’t have said that the way I did,” you accepted.

“So no hard feelings?” He asked, looking at you now.

“No hard feelings,” you smiled.

But then the air changed between you two. A force was drawing you together and neither of you stopped it. Your lips touched, sparking the flame inside you again. And like that, Hendery knew he loved you too, because the butterflies in his stomach wouldn’t stop dancing. His hand traveled to the back of your head, holding you softly. He pulled back first, mumbling, “I’m sorry, is this okay?”

“Only if it’s okay with you,” you whispered.

“I love you,” he muttered before kissing you again, this time deepening the kiss. Your arms quickly wrapped around his neck, bringing him closer. It turned to a passionate make out session and you were gasping for air. You smiled because you were kissing your best friend and Hendery smiled because you looked so cute.

“Should we take this to the backseat?” He suggested with a groggy voice.

“Here? Right now? Really?” You joked.

“I’m sorry! I’m desperate for you,” he shrugged. He jumped first, to lean the seat back for more space. Conveniently he had some sheets there. Then he beckoned you with his hands, inviting you to jump with him. You did as told but your foot got stuck on the front seat so you landed flat over him. You both started laughing at your disgrace but then started kissing wildly again.

He rolled over so you were under him. He fitted perfectly between your legs, as if you were made for him. Quickly, clothes started to be bothersome and he took off your hoodie. Then, Hendery’s hands ran underneath your shirt, reaching your breasts. He squeezed them and then started playing with your hardened nipples, rolling them between his fingers. Soon enough, he asked you, “Can I take this off?” Pulling your shirt. You simply responded, “Please.” He also took off his, revealing his beautiful body and threw both of your shirts to the front seat. One of his hands ran down your body, feeling all of you while he enjoyed your lips. You sighed in satisfaction, feeling yourself getting wetter with every touch and each kiss.

Hendery knew when to start touching you and he asked for your consent, “Can I touch you?”

“Please Dery, I’m so wet already,” you said in a needy whisper.

He groaned in response, his fingers not loosing time in snaking inside your shorts. First he touched you over your underwear and then he slipped inside your panties, finding your clit easily. “Oh my god,” you said in a breathy murmur.

“Fuck... you’re so wet,” he hissed. He took out his hand to pull down your pants and underwear, all in one go, helping you shimmy out of them. After all, none of this was being awkward between you, you felt comfortable with each other. Once he had you all at his mercy, he kissed your neck, his mouth going down and down while his hand went to your south. His lips enclosed your nipple at the same time his fingers got between your folds. God! He was so skilled! Your hand played with his hair while his did unholy thing to you.

He sticked his middle finger in you, going in and out, then he added his ring finger and started moving them fast and deep inside, making you whine. “Fuuuuck! Dery! Feels so good!”

He let go of your nipple with a pop, “You like my fingers, baby? Yeah?” His voice was lower than usual and breathier, it had your head spinning.

“Ooh! Yeah, I love them,” you cried and kissed him. You could hear the squelching sound coming from between your legs. You couldn’t believe Hendery was the one making a mess of you.

You felt your orgasm bubbling inside you, “Hendery I’m gonna cum,” you said in a high-pitched whimper.

“You wanna cum on my fingers? Do you like them that much?” He panted.

“Mmmm! Yes!” You moaned.

“Come on, baby, let go,” he commanded you and started thrusting his fingers faster.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,” you said in a shattered chant and then you felt the delicious tingles all over your body, your eyes rolled back, and your back arched. Something unusual happened this time: strands of water gushed out of you and your legs started to shake. You cried loudly loosing all control of your body. Hendery was amazed of what he just did, “Shit! So hot!”

You, on the other hand, were embarrassed. “Oh god... I’m so sorry...” you hid on the crook of his neck.

“It’s okay, that was so hot! I’ve never achieved that. Did you know you could do that?” He caressed your hair in assurance.

“No... it’s the first time that happens...” you whined in embarrassment.

“Baby, it’s okay,” he chuckled, “wanna know something? I’m harder now.”

“Deryyy!” You gasped.

“Can you take it?” He hummed.

“I can take all of you,” you smirked.

“So naughty, I like it,” he pecked your lips and proceeded to kneel in front of you, all bended to avoid smashing his head with the hood. He slipped his pants off easily, along with his briefs, his hardened cock springing free. Your mouth watered at the sight, the tip so pink, shinning with wetness, all ready to take you.

You opened your legs, inviting him, you couldn’t wait for him to be inside you.

He hissed when seeing your still wet core, “Fuck, I could’ve beat that long time ago,” to which you laughed. “Well, you decided to keep boundaries.”

“You’re my best friend, wasn’t it going to be weird?” He raised an eyebrow.

“Maybe?” You shrugged.

“I’m a man, you know. I’m weak. Do you think I didn’t wish to rearrange your insides some of those nights where we cuddled in your couch? It took the best of me to calm this little guy,” he grabbed his length. You burst out laughing.

“Are we really having this conversation when you’re about to wreck me?” You rolled your eyes.

“You started it!” He complaint.

“Oh, shut up and fuck me,” you taunted.

“Condom or no condom?” He asked.

“Wrap your weiner, I don’t know where you have sticked that thing in,” you commanded him.

“I’m clean! I always protect myself, who do you take me for?! I offered myself since I trust you as my best friend, but okay. And don’t call him a thing! He has a name!” he sounded so offended.

“Oh my god! Don’t take it personal! Maybe in the future I’ll let you fuck me raw,” you winked, “but for now, let’s do it this way.”

“Alright,” he said as he looked for his wallet in the pocket of the pants he just discarded. Finding the tiny foil square was fast and he was even faster rolling it down his shaft.

“Come here,” he pulled you closer by your legs, making you laugh. This whole adventure had been a fun ride for both of you.

He kissed you passionately again, one of his hands ran to your leg, bending it a little to have better access to your entrance. He then hold his length, rubbing the tip up and down your pussy, teasing you, making you bite your lip. You were shaking in anticipation.

He pushed himself in slowly, both of you moaning. “Mmm, 操! (cào - Fuck), you’re so tight for me, baby,” his said in a shaky whisper.

He went as deep as he could, making you feel so full. “Hendery,” you breathed, “I feel so full.”

“Yes baby, I’m gonna make you feel so good,” he assured you in hoarse groan.

He kept thrusting you slowly, passionately, enjoying every inch of you. The car was full of shaky breaths, low moans, occasional grunts, and the sound of kisses. Never in your life you thought you would share such an intimate moment with Hendery, but you were loving every second of it.

“Can I go faster?” He asked softly.

“Yes please,” you pleaded.

Hendery caged you in his arms and started snapping his hips faster. His lips whispered filthy praises in your ear, adding up to your want for him, “So good, your cunt feels so warm baby, wanna fill you up with my cum. Do you want that? Yeah? Mmmm... Making love to you feels so nice. I love you, I love you, I love you. This is the only pussy I wanna fuck for the rest of my life.”

Your hands hugged him back, running all his back, tangling in his hair, he had you crazy for him with every word. If you weren’t out of breath, you replied to his words with moans and mewls. “Mmmf! Hendery! Fuck! I love you so fucking much! Please keep fucking me, it feels so good!”

A few minutes later he panted, “I’m gonna cum.” He tried to go faster and he drove his hand south, finding your bundle of nerves skillfully. He was drawing circles while pummeling into you fast, making your second orgasm arrive with force, tightening around him. A sharp scream left your throat and you hugged him tightly. Hendery came with a guttural growl, “Ughhh! So good!” You could feel him pumping in you while he filled the condom.

When you both could breathe again, he embraced you and peppered you with kisses, making you giggle. “How are you feeling, my love?” He smiled.

“I like the sound of that coming from your lips,” you cuddled with him. He sighed, satisfied with the thought that you were his and he was yours.

“Then I will call you that all day just to see you happy,” he kissed you on the forehead.

“You’re my happiness,” you purred.

“I love you, I really do,” he confessed.

“I love you too, Dery,” you raised your head to kiss his lips.

“Do I need to pop the question or are we clear?” He joked.

“Imma torture you and make it pop it,” you chuckled beaten.

“Would you be my girlfriend?” He asked confidently.

“I’d love to,” you replied.

After a moment of silence, Hendery suggested, “Up for round two?”

“Oh my god, you’ll be the death of me if your sex drive is this high,” you sighed.

“My sex drive with you will always be high. Imagine having to hide your boner for so many years and then finally getting the pussy of your dreams?” He was such a character.

“Stop!! That is not true” you shoved him with your elbow.

“Not true?! Do you wanna know how many times I masturbated after arriving home from our movie nights?!” He could be brutally honest sometimes.

“You masturbate?” You wanted to see him snap.

“Listen, Y/N, if I didn’t, my dick would’ve fallen off by now because holy fuck! I wanted to rail you so bad!”

You just exploded in laughs. He really was the man you loved.

“How many rounds can you make?” You asked him.

“I have a whole box of condoms to use with you. You decide,” he shrugged.

“So that’s 3?” You jeered.

“Very funny,” he said sarcastically.

The car kept rocking, the windows were fogged and Hendery almost could last till dawn making love to you. The rest of the night became an orgasm feast for you two.

You fell asleep, beaten thanks to the activities. When you woke up, the sky was painted in pastel colors, announcing dawn. You were wrapped under the sheets, naked with Hendery, on the back of his car.

You looked at him, he looked so cute sleeping soundlessly, you didn’t want to wake him up, but the sun was about to rise and you were away from the city.

“Baby,” you whispered softly.

“Hmm?” He hummed, as if asking what was wrong.

“Baby, I’m cold and the sun is rising,” you explained.

“Mmm... really?” His sleepy voice was making your head spin.

“Yes my love, we should go home. We can continue sleeping at my apartment if you want,” you suggested.

He yawned, “but then I’ll have to make love to you again because I want to be like this with you.”

You giggled, he was so cute talking while sleepy. You kissed his cheek. “We can just get naked and sleep.”

“It’s not the same,” he groaned. Hendery sat and stretched, then, he passed you your clothes.

You guys bought breakfast on the way home, you ate it and then went back to sleep. You spent the majority of the day in bed watching series, glad that you belonged to each other now.

[qqueenofhades]

did you watch lucifer season six and what are your thoughts pls and ty

Ahaha. Yes. Yes I did watch it. Then I cried for a literal hour and attempted to compose myself, only to start crying again when I lay down and kept on thinking about it. Then I had more feelings. Then I slept like the dead due to emotional trauma. Then I reblogged gifsets and had More feelings. Then @buffaluff and @flynnanimal watched it and also required emotional support due to drowning in their own tears. So, uh... we're all fine here now. How are you?

My main takeaway from the final season was the sheer amount of love for the characters, story, and fans that you could feel shining through all the episodes, and which made SUCH a refreshing change. I had feelings in my tags the other day about how a show about the devil was constantly goofy, hopeful, loving, and uplifting, rather than all the grimdark nonsense they could have easily done with it. (As I said, just imagine it as written by the GOT idiots?? NO THANK YOU.) The writing really loved everyone and wanted to give them a proper ending and emotional journey, and it wanted to show the fans that they weren't stupid for having invested six seasons of effort and emotion into this, and just... that is so much rarer than it should be? Compare all the movies and TV shows that treat their fans like the enemy, that want to outsmart them at all costs even if it means changing major plot elements, that ferociously guard spoilers and think that "shock value" means good writing, by throwing hackneyed cliche upon cliche and making everything Depressing, and just... Lucifer had its hiccups and slow points and missteps, of course, but I am SO glad they didn't do that. The entire show consisted of Lucifer slowly but steadily progressing toward being a better man, despite mistakes and setbacks and sometimes a little too much will-they-won't-they. (Season 3 was the only one where I got bored and skipped over the filler episodes with Pierce/Lucifer/Chloe in order to get to the end).

That is an essentially simple premise, but they stuck to it, and they didn't try to create more drama by randomly wrecking what they had already established. I wrote a fic all the way back in mid-season 2 (In Nomine Patris) that ended up predicting quite a few of the future characters who had not yet appeared on the show at that time, including Eve, Michael, and Azrael, and several plot points, including the very major one of Lucifer returning to hell for the sake of his daughter with Chloe. And while this might mean that I am just that good at guessing TV shows (I would like to think this....) it also means that the writers set expectations, followed through on those expectations, and didn't suddenly derail everything or turn it totally on its head just for the sake of cheap shocks. As we can all attest, they certainly caused PLENTY of drama, anguish, pain, and suffering, but they did it in a way that remained faithful to the overall premises of the story and the characters, and wanted to see them become the best versions of themselves. I cried my eyes out at the end and then thought, "hey, I might want to watch the whole series again," which, if you ask me, is the mark of doing your job right. There have been so few TV endings recently where I didn't immediately swear off the whole thing or have to pretend that canon didn't exist, so yeah.

As I said, it was just refreshing to watch something that had that essential deep generosity at its core, where the message is that everyone is worthy of love if they make the hard and painful effort to change and become better, and that even if earthly things feel small next to all this messy celestial drama, they still matter, and that you are loved no matter what. I loved that Amenadiel became God and Lucifer returned to hell as a choice in order to help all the trapped souls be able to work through their guilt and go to heaven. There were obviously certain echoes of The Good Place in that ending; I don't know if it was something they had planned all along or if the success of TGP, another series asking deep questions about life, death, morality, and human nature within the framework of a goofy heaven-and-hell sitcom, influenced it, but either way, it worked so well. Even if it tore my heart out and stomped on it on the ground, it was fitting and oh so lovely to see Lucifer, once the most selfish being in the entire universe, following in Linda's footsteps and becoming selflessly dedicated to helping other people. Just. Chef's kiss.

And of course, Deckerstar. The Hades and Persephone vibes were IMMACULATE this season, and while it did take Lucifer and Chloe the best part of four seasons to get together, they never significantly backslid, never had third-party issues or cheap cheating storylines once they were officially a couple, and Tom Ellis and Lauren German REALLY killed it this season in particular. It was never easy for them and sometimes the drama went on a little too long over the course of said six seasons, but the love story was beautiful and incredibly meaningful and always true to the fact that the actors and characters and writers (not to mention the fans) all loved it so much. They were so much the emotional heart of this, and when they went to hell together in episode 6x03 (where they turned into cartoons because wHAT even IS this show), Joe Henderson said in an interview that this was to give the fans a view into Lucifer and Chloe's future (after) lives post-6x10, and to offer them a basis to write fanfiction. I mean... the showrunner saying to the fans "here, we love you, have something to write fic about!" is likewise pretty shockingly rare. It's again an example of how this show always audaciously poked fun at itself, never took itself TOO seriously, and was always welcoming its fans and the people who loved it to do so, rather than making them feel stupid or taking joy in wrecking beloved characters or plots.

Obviously, I loved Rory, the badass lesbian half-angel goth Deckerstar child straight out of My Immortal (seriously, she was SO edgy, it was amazing), because of the fact that Lucifer's entire arc was always about feeling abandoned by his father and that he was going to have to face it for himself. Dorky Devil Dad Lucifer trying his absolute HARDEST to bond with his daughter was simultaneously hilarious, adorable, and heart-wrenching, and yet again, the Growth. We all remember when he could barely tolerate Trixie touching him, and now we're here. Also, any variation whatsoever of "this is just a brief moment of time that we must be apart, love is eternal and stronger than death and we will never really leave each other" as a line is guaranteed to make me bawl my eyes out. So that was fun.

I got a big kick out of Ghost Dan running around and trying to get everyone to see him, and had feelings about seeing him in heaven with Charlotte and his beloved Pudding Pops at the end. I had feelings about how they handled Ella finding out the truth (or rather demanding to know why nobody had told her) and of course, I obviously loved Maze and Eve and their goth/femme wedding and the fact that they got a good three-season romantic arc (indeed, I wanted more of them). My god, Trixie is SO BIG, she used to be a tiny little nugget. I love that Linda was the moral and emotional rock all along, from the first episode to the very last, and that Amenadiel was Deeply Vindicated when Charlie's wings appeared at his first birthday party. I love how Lucifer in s6 is absolute thousands of light years from Lucifer in s1. And as ever, Chloe was Perfect. I am happy that I spent six seasons with these characters and saw them become better, and that I was never made to feel like an idiot for trusting the writers to end everything in a beautiful and emotional way. Because, well. They did. Sure, maybe I could go back and pick at a plotline here or a detail there, but I don't terribly feel the need to do so? It might not have been perfect, but it was perfect, and I am so grateful that it existed.

[seasonofthewicth]

nobody does it like you do - act 2

Thank you so much for all your reactions to part 1! I hope you enjoy part two just as much :)

CW: mentions of past minor character death (incl. a pregnant woman)

7.3k - masterlist - ao3

--

Her first day of shooting isn’t great. It’s not bad by a long way, but it could have easily been better. They’re on location in a forest somewhere in the outskirts of Rifthold and she didn’t even know there were places in the city like this, she’d assumed it was all the sprawling metropolis of skyscrapers and crowded streets, but apparently not.

She’s cold. There’s a machine beating down torrents of fake rain on her and Fenrys where they stand opposite each other on the muddy path through the trees, they’re filming the scene where their characters first meet. Her feet are soggy inside the canvas trainers she’s wearing and they keep spraying water on her hair to keep the wet look running throughout all of the takes and she hates it. She’s uncomfortable and stiff but she comforts herself with the knowledge that Fenrys is the same if the frown he wears whenever the camera isn’t on him is anything to go by.

It helps, barely.

She keeps having to spit water out of her mouth between lines, she swears it never rains this heavily in real life but who is she to comment, and she watches Rowan’s lips twist in displeasure where he sits behind the camera every time she does it. Aelin’s not sure what else she’s supposed to do, he can sit there out of the line of the water all fine, but she can’t speak with her mouth full.

It can take time to fall into the natural rhythm of shooting a new project, even the shitty ones she’s done in the past have shown her that, but there’s something about the way Rowan watches her that prickles the back of her neck, his stare intense and heavy as he watches, that adds the pressure. She wants to show him that she can do this. She wants his approval.

She ignores the reasons why.

After they finish and Rowan has called cut she sulks back to her trailer, she’s only just managed to change out of her sodden clothes when there’s a knock at the door. It’s Fenrys, warm and dry now in his own change of clothes.

They’ve sort of become friends recently, after swapping numbers after the table read he had texted her first. The studio has put him in the same complex as her and they’ve shared a car back there a couple of times after some of their meetings. She likes him a lot actually, and while she knows his reputation of infamy with the ladies follows him around like a bad smell, she feels comfortable with him.

“That could have gone better,” he tells her as he flops down onto the two-seater sofa at the end of her trailer, the other half has a mound of clothes dumped on it that she hasn’t bothered to sort through yet.

She just shoots him a look that she hopes says tell me about it.

“Tomorrow will be better,” he tells her, reassuringly. He would know she supposes, he has far more experience than her.

“I hope so.”

“How’re you finding it so far, working with Rowan?” he asks, and she frowns, bristling at the fact that he somehow knows the worst question to ask already. Aelin doesn’t think she’s behaved weirdly around Rowan since the day at the table read, in fact she’s tried to avoid him where possible. Maybe that’s it.

“Fine,” she says, but that’s not quite true. It messes with her in a dangerous way every time she knows he’s watching her. She should be able to turn that part of her brain off during a scene, she trained for years to learn how to do that, but he gets to her. She’s working on it.

Fenrys laughs, seeing right through her.

“He’s not bad once you get to know him, the first time we worked together I thought he was a total dick.” She gives him the same look as before as she clears the clothes and sits down next to him.

“I swear he’s not that bad. He’s just-” Fenrys pauses, weighing her up with a look, and something that he takes in from the way she stands, gnawing on her lower lip with her hair still wet, has him saying; “He’s got a lot riding on this.”

“Why?”

It doesn’t feel like he has a lot riding on this, his last piece was nominated for the Oscars, how much higher than that can you get? It’s not like he’s in the same position as her, desperately clawing herself back to a place where she can be cast in a role and it not be followed by a stunned, oh?

She knows there were articles written when her casting was announced that were doubtful of her ability to do this movie, that questioned whether she’s up to the task and whether she’s good enough to be standing next to names like Fenrys and Rowan. Some of the articles were straight up mean, and she only knows that because she searched them up like a masochist when all the ones Elide sent over were far too nice.

A dark part of herself can’t help but fall prey to some of the headlines. The ones that throw around words like nepotism, the ones that question whether Aelin is talented enough to be where she is cut deeper than any knife, and only half of it is because she sometimes wonders the same. She should be better than that, but the reminder catches in her throat that she really does have a lot riding on this.

“It’s not really my place to say.”

That’s a load of shit, and she tells him so. He only shrugs, not willing to so openly gossip about their boss.

“How well do you know him exactly?” She’s fishing for any details, but it definitely could be passed off as casual curiosity.

“He directed my debut, we keep in touch every so often.” He’s nonchalant. “He asked me to audition for this.”

“Nice humble brag.”

Fenrys only flashes her his movie star grin, in combination with the wink he throws at her it’s almost an effort not to blush.

“He wanted you cast, you know?” That she didn’t know, but it’s nice to hear.

“Why? He doesn’t know me.”

“You’re hard work, you know?” He’s joking but it doesn’t sit quite right. She knows it’s true. “Come with us tonight. There's a group of us getting dinner, and you can ask him yourself.”

It’s an olive branch. She knows it’s obvious to everyone that she’s uncomfortable, still hasn’t quite found her feet on set after taking such a break, and it’s one that she’s grateful for. No matter how closed off she knows she still seems to them.

“Okay,” she says and Fenrys’ smile is genuine and a part of her lifts, it’s a start.

They share a car to the restaurant and he fills the journey with easy chatter. She appreciates it because she feels really fucking rusty. It’s been a while since she spoke to anyone outside of her immediate circle of friends and family, and it’s always been easy with them. This is different, but not unwelcome.

Sometimes she worries that, as much as they love her, Aedion, Lysandra and Elide are inclined to tread lightly around her. She’d like to think that she’s not that fragile, that she could take the full front of their humour and teasing like she used to, but then remembers when Fenrys’ joke fell flat for her in the trailer and she thinks again.

Either way, the cast and crew here don’t treat her like she’s broken, or even breakable, and it’s refreshing.

Fenrys leads the way into the restaurant, and there’s definitely paparazzi down the street snapping away at them as they cross the short distance from the car to the door. She tries to ignore it, she’ll text Elide once they’re done here, even though Elide will probably be overjoyed. It’s probably (definitely) easier to publicise your talent when she’s out there doing things with other famous people compared to staying inside her home alone.

Fenrys greets the staff on the door and they lead them through the restaurant to a staircase at the back of the room and it leads up to a private space with only one table. Right, privacy. Some of these guys are proper celebrities.

They’re the last ones there, and there’s two seats left at the table. Manon is here, so is Rowan and one of the executive producers who she thinks is called Gavriel.

“Alright guys, you all know Aelin,” Fenrys says and she smiles as they greet her.

Fenrys holds a chair out for her, the one next to Rowan, and she slides into it as he takes the one on her other side.

Rowan offers her a quirk of his lips, one she returns as she takes him in. He’s wearing short sleeves this time and she gets a good look at the tattoo snaking the whole way down his left arm. It’s in the Old Language and she can’t read it, even though her father had spent hours trying to teach her when she was a kid, but the lettering is beautiful and neat. She wants to reach out and touch, to trace the lines that roll down his golden skin.

She doesn’t. Obviously.

A waiter comes over to take their drink orders, Fenrys gets a beer, Manon and Gavriel opt for wine, but Rowan asks for an orange juice. He’s not drinking either and she wonders if it’s related to the reason he needs this movie to go well. So she’s nosy? So what?

She sits back and observes as the conversation flows, laughing along at the easy banter that flows between the three men and the sarcastic quips Manon throws in. Fenrys clearly understated his relationship with Rowan, they seem tight and have a clear fondness for one another. It’s easy to slot herself in as the night progresses, snarking with Manon and joining in with the general light-hearted mockery of Fenrys.

She thinks maybe so far she’s got Rowan wrong.

Tonight he’s quick-witted and charming, and he makes his best effort to include her in the conversation which she appreciates. It’s a contrast to the dark and teasing side of him she’s seen so far in the hallway and the table read. Maybe he’s decided to just start again, pretend they never met before she was cast, and she can do that too.

“So, Aelin.” Manon turns the spotlight to her after a while. “Tell us the scoop. I’ve not seen you in anything for a while.”

It’s not a nasty question, Aelin can just tell from the way she asks it, nothing more than genuine curiosity lies in her tone even if the phrasing is somewhat harsh. Manon might not be the bubbliest of characters, she’s blunt and doesn’t beat around the bush, but she’s not unkind, and Aelin doubts if she knew the truth she’d ask that question in such a way.

Elide managed to keep the worst of her… career break? One could phrase it more like breakdown, out of the limelight. She somehow managed to keep the worst of it hidden, and Aelin will owe her that for the rest of her life.

All the world knows is that Sam was murdered when they were both still newbies to their respective industries, neither of them had had their big break yet, and after that she took a break. For three years.

She remembers the headlines from the time, most were in smaller magazines, Sam wasn’t famous enough to make the front pages. Her mouth tastes like bile.

Singer-Songwriter Sam Cortland, 20, murdered in random street attack in Orynth, girlfriend Aelin Ashryver unharmed and working with police to identify suspect.

No one knows she knelt there in his blood begging for him to open his eyes, not even Aedion, or Lysandra or Elide, and she blinks back the image now. Her hands are curled into fists below the table and she forces herself to uncurl them and lay them flat against her jeans.

“Yeah,” she says after clearing her throat. “I took a break from it all for a few years, but I’m back now obviously and really excited for it.”

Manon nods and Gavriel raises a glass. He’s been nothing but kind to her all night. He kind of reminds her of her father, though he’s not that old, probably not even forty yet. He’s softly spoken and counters each snarky comment from Fenrys or Manon with something softer but no less amusing.

“Good to hear,” Fenrys says with a grin, clinking his glass against Gavriel’s.

The way Rowan watches her as he raises his own glass in a toast to her, careful and without speaking, tells her he knows. At least the basics about Sam, and it seems like maybe he did google her just like she joked back at the table read.

Their meals arrive then, mercifully taking the attention away from her. She needs to find a better way to deal with the attention than shutting down, especially if this film is going to be as big as everyone thinks it will be. She should call her therapist.

She will.

Eventually.

They leave the restaurant not long after, Fenrys covering the bill, emphasising that this was a celebration and an initiation for Aelin. She almost blushes for some unknown reason at his words, but she likes it. It sounds good. Like she really is back, or at least will be.

They each give her their numbers, and she likes the way he’s in her phone now as Rowan rather than Rowan Whitethorn, it feels like he’s not just someone from work. Not just her boss.

They each say goodbye and share a series of embraces, ignoring the small group of paparazzi that follow, desperate for any kind of incriminating image of any of the five of them. It’s clear that most of them are here for Fenrys, but she still makes sure to keep her expression clear and guarded as Rowan wraps her into a one-armed hug when they leave. It’s not just for the paparazzi.

Back in her apartment, when she’s tucked up in bed knowing she should be asleep, she can’t stop herself from googling him. She’s honestly surprised she’s lasted this long.

The first few news articles to come up are all about the movie and she scrolls past them, instead pulling up his Wikipedia page and scrolling straight to the personal life section. Maybe this is the weirdest way anyone’s ever got to know a friend, but she’s intrigued and still slightly flustered by him so it will do.

The section on his personal life is relatively bare, and it doesn’t surprise her. His Instagram account alone told her pretty explicitly that he’s a private kind of guy. She almost scrolls away after the first few lines, they don’t give her much information other than the college he went to and the languages he speaks, but she reads the final few lines of the section anyway.

In March 2018 Whitethorn’s fiance, Lyria Woods, passed away as the result of a road traffic accident. The driver of the other vehicle was found to be under the influence of alcohol at the time of the accident and was later sentenced to 6 years in prison for death by dangerous driving. Woods was 12 weeks pregnant with their child at the time of the accident.

Only a couple of weeks after the Oscars that she and Lysandra watched. She does the maths and realises this is his first film since then and thinks she knows what Fenrys meant.

Fucking shit.

Her second day of shooting goes better than the first, just as Fenrys said it would.

She’s more relaxed when she crosses the set from her trailer with a coffee in hand and she thinks she knows her place a little better now, even after only one night spent with the others.

She lies back while her make up is done, chatting to the make-up artist instead of sitting silently like the day before, and she’s almost ready for the discomfort that her wet hair will bring. The weather adds to the atmosphere of the film, dark and dreary and moody, and she gets why they’re doing it, but it still sucks.

Fenrys is ready when she gets there, and while she’s not avoiding Rowan today after finding out about his… past, she just finds it difficult to look him in the eye knowing what she does. He probably wouldn’t be surprised that she knew, if it’s on Wikipedia it’s public knowledge and they have made jokes about googling each other, but she feels weird in a way that she didn’t learn it from him. It feels intrusive, or invasive, to find out about something like that through Wikipedia.

But even though they bonded somewhat last night, and he greeted her this morning with an easy hey, they’re still not close. No matter that she thinks she might want them to be. She’s trying again to ignore the way she feels drawn to him, the way her eyes seek him out without her permission.

She knows she kills the take. Knows it from the high five Fenrys slaps against her palm once Rowan’s called cut and from the swift nod he offers her when she glances towards him.

There seem to be two Rowan’s too, there’s the award winning director Rowan Whitethorn, and then just Rowan.

Rowan Whitethorn is cool and calculating and distant, quiet while he watches their scene from his place behind the camera, the big black headphones he uses pushed down around his neck. His eyes are as sharp as a hawk’s while he watches for all the minute details of their expressions and any improvements they could make. He doesn’t give her that many she’s pleased to note.

The way he instructs them is impressive, with clear directions and thoughtful analyses. She’s been here two days and she knows how he got the Oscar nomination, he’s scarily intelligent and seems to know exactly what’s off about a performance before she figures it out herself.

The other side to him, the side that is just Rowan is…

Just Rowan is the one she likes more.

She suspects the smile he gives her later, after they’ve nailed the bulk of the scene in one take and she’s being twirled around by Fenrys, comes from him.

She has two full days off in a row, and she decides the best use of her time is to go and stay with Aedion and Lysandra. Fenrys isn’t free, and the reason she is is that he has a load of solo scenes to shoot, and she doesn’t envy him at all.

Lysandra is ecstatic when she announces via a group text to her and Aedion that she’ll be at their house for lunchtime, and she loves it, but it makes her feel a little guilty. That she’s let it get to the point when her friend reacts like that at her promise of a visit is quite frankly appalling, but she finally feels as if she’s taken the first step. She’s on the bottom rung of the ladder, and it’s taken her a while, but she’s there now.

Aedion and Lysandra live in a disgustingly big house in a gated part of the suburbs, and she knows the house isn’t exactly what they would have chosen in an ideal world, it’s too big and garish and grey, but there are gates by the entrance and 24 hour security.

It still messes with her head that Aedion is that famous. Aedion. Her gangly cousin, always too tall for his own good, who used to pull her hair when they were kids and sneak her extra helpings of cake at family parties before her parents divorced. She doesn’t know that much about football, so little in fact that her dad and Aedion teased her relentlessly for years, but everyone tells her he’s good.

Like really good.

The salary he gets from the Ravens is more than enough proof.

She rings their front door bell and she can hear Lysandra’s quick steps before the big wooden door is pulled open.

Her friend is glowing. Her dark hair falls into waves near the end and her staggeringly beautiful face is free of any make-up and unblemished and dewy. She’s had time to get over the insecurities that come from being friends with Lysandra so it barely phases her as she wraps her arms around her friend.

“I’ve missed you,” she whispers into Lysandra’s hair. It smells like coconut and citrus and just Lysandra.

“I missed you too. So much,” Lysandra sighs as she pulls back, dragging Aelin into the house and shutting the door.

Their hallway is grand and open but there’s a pile of their shoes by the wall and a rack of coats that make it feel more homely. There are framed photos carefully arranged on the sideboard in the entry way that show the two of them with their whole family and all of their friends.

There’s one on there of Aelin and Lysandra at eighteen, their arms thrown tightly around each other while they grin massive, excited smiles at the camera, or more likely Elide behind it. She remembers the day it was taken, Lysandra had signed to her first agency and arranged to move to Rifthold, and they had taken her out to celebrate.

It was around the same time she signed for her first movie, a tiny role with two lines and twenty seconds of screen time but it got the ball rolling with her first proper acting credit, and she’ll never forget it.

A head of golden hair pokes around the kitchen doorway at the end of the hall and she lets her cousin sweep her up into a hug, swinging her up and around so her feet dangle above the floor.

“Alien, we’ve missed you.”

A stupid nickname from when they were young, the kind of young where he thought it was hilarious to replace her name with an extraterrestrial, but it only makes her smile now, squeezing her cousin tight before he puts her back down.

“Yeah, I bet you’ve been lost without me.” She beams at them, taking a moment to soak in how it feels to be with them even as Aedion rolls his eyes. “I’ve missed you both too.”

“Lunch is ready, come on,” Aedion tells her as he takes her case and drags it through the house, leaving it by the bottom of the stairs. It’s then that she spots the frilly pink apron tied around his waist.

“Alright,” she laughs. “I can’t wait to try what the domestic goddess has in store for us.”

Peals of laughter burst out of Lysandra and she grins back at her, forever grateful that they managed to keep their relationship with each other from ever impacting on their relationship with Aelin. At first she had been worried that Aedion and Lysandra would become AedionAndLysandra and that she wouldn’t have a place left with them, but she needn’t have worried, and they worked too well together for Aelin to have ever wished for anything different.

“Gods, shut up,” he mutters, slinging an arm around her shoulders and leading her to the kitchen. “So annoying, both of you.”

She grins as she hears Lysandra smack an overly dramatic kiss to his cheek.

Aedion’s a surprisingly good cook, the lunch he’s made is tasty despite being carefully planned to fit into both his and Lysandra’s strict meal plans. If they’re the cost needed to be able to live in a house like this, Aelin doesn’t want it.

“So,” Aedion says after he’s finished chewing a mouthful. “How are things going?”

He asks it with a gentle kind of sensitivity that she understands what he’s really asking. She knows it’s code for are you still sober? but she also knows he hasn’t asked it because he doubts her. Aedion and Lysandra have always been in her corner, even in her darkest moments they were there.

She never wants to put them through anything like that ever again. Never wants them to experience anything as terrifying as the last night she ever touched a drug. That night, almost a year ago now, will forever be the bottom of her pit. She doesn’t remember much of it, other than the devastation on Aedion’s face as he carried her out of the men’s toilets of a seedy nightclub in Perranth. The way he’d bitten his lip as he picked her up off the sticky floor, pulling the hem of her dress down to cover her underwear where it had ridden up.

The thought makes her sick.

He’d had to skip a game, leading to a bollocking from his coach, but he’d done it for her. Had carried her out of the club and into a car, waiting to take them back to his house. Lysandra had stroked her hair where she lay on the cool tiles of the bathroom floor while Aedion called a doctor to the house. Even through his panic he had thought of her and how little she would want it publicised that she’d been pulled out of a club, off her fucking rocker on whatever substance she’d been given by the lowlives she had fallen in with. She’s really, really lucky that for once Aedion hadn’t been followed by paparazzi.

She takes a sip of her sparkling water before she answers, it feels like all she ever drinks these days and it tastes like shit but it’s worth it if she never reverts back to where she was.

“I’m good.” She’s almost surprised to find that it’s true. “I’m feeling much better.”

She can barely look at them, can barely take the level of subdued joy on their faces.

“We’re glad Aelin, really glad.” Lysandra’s voice is sincere.

“So, how’s the new project going?” Aedion asks her, sensing her discomfort almost immediately.

“That’s good too actually.” It is. It feels good to have something positive to focus on, something that she feels is productive and worth doing. “It’s nice to be back and be busy even if the morning shoots begin disgustingly early. It’s good to be on set, surrounded by it all again and to remember that I can actually do this.”

She stabs her fork through a piece of tomato a little aggressively as she finishes and the look Lysandra shoots her tells her she’s not impressed with the self-deprecation but that she’ll let it slide for now.

“And Fenrys Moonbeam, is he really that good looking in real life?”

Aelin laughs. “More actually, sometimes it's too much.”

“Nice,” Lysandra nods appreciatively.

“Is he alright though?” Ever the overprotective older brother figure, she expected some version of this question from Aedion.

“He’s great. He’s hilarious and it really helps on the long days,” she says before taking her next bite.

“And Rowan Whitethorn’s directing isn’t he? What’s he like?”

Aelin blinks and finishes chewing slowly. “He’s… fine.”

She knows she’s fucked it when Aedion and Lysandra share a look, matching smirks beginning on each of their faces.

“Fine,” Lysandra repeats. “What exactly does fine mean Aelin?”

She purses her lips. “He’s a great director.”

Lysandra rolls her eyes. “And?”

She could probably lie here, they’d probably let it slide if she said some bullshit about how they’ve not spoken much and how she barely knows him, but she honestly needs to talk to someone about this. You know, to set her straight.

“And he’s really hot.”

She’s blushing as Lysandra laughs and Aedion chuckles.

“You’ve got a crush,” Lysandra sing-songs, and when she doesn't respond she says, “Have you got a picture of him? I don’t think I actually know what he looks like.”

She can’t blame Lysandra for that, she’s still kicking herself for not recognising him that day in the hallway, but he was only on screen for a few seconds at the Oscars and it wasn’t long after Sam so it wasn’t like she was paying attention in that way. She still thinks she should have noticed.

She pulls her phone out to find the only picture she has on there with Rowan. She had only taken it this week when they were eating breakfast with Fenrys one morning, in one of the tents that had been set up for them to sit in between takes, and Fenrys had pulled his phone out to snap a photo of her for his Instagram story.

She’d been wrapped up in one of the huge parkas they’re given for the times in between scenes holding her croissant high up in the air when he’d taken it. He’d captioned it she could have dropped her croissant and tagged her, and she’d gained a good few thousand followers. She’s almost at a million and they’re only a couple of weeks into shooting.

She had taken one of him in response and then spun around to force Rowan into a selfie with her, he’d protested but she’d pouted until he relented, grumbling something about actors that she knew he didn’t mean. She didn’t post it anywhere, she kept it to herself and she can’t lie, she’s looked at it way too many times since.

She’s smiling a wide smile, cheeks stuffed full of her croissant and it’s really kind of gross, but the small smile on Rowan’s face makes it bearable. More than bearable, she has to resist the temptation to make it her lock screen because that would be weird.

She remembers the heat of his chest where he had stood behind her to lean down so their faces were level, the hand he rested on her shoulder to steady himself and the way his fingers had brushed against her neck in the lightest caress.

She hands the phone over to Lysandra and wants to pull it back almost immediately.

It’s not that she’s embarrassed or whatever, even if they think it’s a bad idea they’d let her down gently, it's just that their opinion matters to her a lot. And while they haven’t exactly approved of her string of random hookups in the years since Sam, they’ve never tried to comment on it other than to check she’s in a good place with it, but she knows they’re waiting for the next person she sees seriously.

There’s a fairly large part of her that thinks her first relationship since Sam shouldn’t be with her boss. And that fucks her up a bit, because since when was she considering a relationship with him?

“Oh yeah,” Lysandra says, scaring away the intrusive thought and raising one perfectly arched eyebrow. “He’s hot alright.”

Aedion nods along, peering over Lysandra’s shoulder. Lysandra’s eyes are far too knowing when she looks back up at Aelin and passes the phone over. She doesn’t say a word before locking the phone and sliding it back into her pocket.

“You’ll have to invite us to set sometime.” Lysandra is sneaky but not subtle.

“I will,” she agrees.

The next week flies by, she shoots every single day but one, and she’s far too exhausted each night to do anything other than scrounge up a measly meal that can be pulled together from her cupboard basics and the limited vegetables in her fridge before falling straight asleep. They’ve made good progress so far, and she knows it's going to be good, but she’s tired.

She’s seen a lot more of the process outside of her own character by now too, and she’s amazed, but not surprised, when she persuades one of the crew to let her watch back one of Fenrys’ solo scenes from the previous week. He’s a phenomenal actor, that much is clear, but she had allowed herself to get caught up in Fenrys as her friend, the happy and funny guy she spends her time with, forgetting the talented and driven lead actor of their movie.

Not that she can forget it in the scenes they share, but she’s mostly concentrating on the emotions her character is going through, and responding to what Fenrys gives her. It almost feels too natural for him, and she forgets that it takes work.

His text meets her at lunchtime on the Sunday they both have off, when she’s still in her pyjamas on the couch, debating whether to start a new series or watch the latest cheesy rom-com that Netflix has released.

She auditioned for one of them a couple of years ago, and she’s far enough past the bitterness that comes with not getting the role that she could enjoy it. Maybe a little, cynical part of herself thinks she’s glad she didn’t get it. What she has now is far better. She’s being a snob, but she straight up doesn’t care. It’s not like anyone else is here to judge her.

Fancy coming to Rowan’s to watch the game? I’m leaving in 20 his text reads.

She didn’t plan on doing anything today, but the invitation sparks something in her, and she’s never been to Rowan’s place before. The studio put him in a house about thirty minutes from set, and she’s curious. How much luxury does the big name director get compared to what she and Fenrys have got? She’s lucky really, that Dorian managed to negotiate the same for her as they offered Fenrys.

rowan’s??? She replies, followed by what game????

She gets up off the couch, putting the lid on the tub of yoghurt she was tucking into with a spoon and walking through to the kitchen to throw it back into the fridge.

Tall, grumpy guy that bosses us around all the time comes through a minute later and she grins at her phone at the description. It’s followed up by Ravens v Panthers.

She taps out, getting changed will be ready in 15 and he replies with three smiling emojis.

She doesn’t think it will be anything fancy if her impromptu invitation is anything to go by so she only swaps her pyjama bottoms with tiny cartoon sheep down the legs for a pair of black leggings and throws a sweatshirt over her oversized t-shirt.

Manon is there when they get there, sprawled across the two seater sofa at the far side of Rowan’s living room, and she gives them both a wave when they enter the room. The house is a pretty modest, two-up two-down in a sweet neighbourhood and it’s cosy inside with relatively modern decor. She doesn’t know for sure whether or not that fits Rowan, but she feels like it does.

He doesn’t let them in, Fenrys swings the door open and marches in like it’s his own place and she wonders how much he and Rowan have hung out, or whether that’s just him. Rowan appears in the doorway about a minute after they come in, a bowl of snacks in his hand that she thinks could be popcorn and he puts it down before coming over to wrap Fenrys in a hug. They slap each other on the back in the way that guys do before pulling back.

Aelin stands at Fenrys’ side watching the exchange, unsure whether to greet Rowan or just take a seat, and once they’re done he seems to regard her with the same sort of uncertainty. Fenrys darts around Rowan to throw himself onto the other sofa and she doesn’t give herself long enough to doubt her decision before she opens her arms and steps towards him.

“Hey,” he says simply as he wraps her into a brief hug. “Thanks for coming.”

She wraps her arms around his own broad shoulders, and it feels nice. He’s warm and strong beneath her hands and the way his arms loop around her waist, so far his hands reach back around to her stomach, gets her in a way that she really doesn’t need to think about. It feels really good pressed up against him like that.

“Hey,” she breathes as he pulls back, and she knows he sees the blush on her cheeks. She’s not fifteen, she really needs to sort herself out. “Thanks for having us.”

“Of course, make yourself at home.” He gives her another half smile, offering a flash of his straight, white teeth, and again she’s struck by him. That his place is behind the camera is a crime. “I’ve got more snacks and drinks in the kitchen if you want.”

“Beer?” Fenrys asks her, already heading to a door that she assumes leads to the kitchen.

She shakes her head, “do you have sparkling water?” She directs the question to Rowan who nods.

He doesn’t have to speak before Fenrys says “on it,” and leaves the room.

She assesses the seating choices left in the room, there’s a cream two-seater sofa opposite where Manon lies, and that’s probably her best bet, but Rowan has already taken his seat on it, an ankle crossed over a knee as he settles into the cushions. There’s plenty of room to sit by him and not touch, and she weighs it up against having to ask Manon to move.

She’s friendly with the girl, but still feels slightly intimidated by the calculating and sarcastic blonde despite the fact that she’s a few years younger than Aelin herself, so maybe Rowan is the safer choice.

Fenrys comes back into the room just as she takes her seat.

“Move your feet, Blackbeak,” he demands as he hands her a glass of sparkling water, it’s chilled with a couple of cubes of ice and she appreciates it.

Manon lifts her legs for Fenrys to sit, but plops her legs back down across his lap immediately and sticks her tongue out at him as she does. Aelin feels herself smile at the display, and the fact that she’s included in this circle of friends. She hasn’t really made an effort with anyone new since Sam, the only people she’s really spoken to are Elide, Lysandra and Aedion, and they were all there for her before Sam. It feels really damn good.

She really, really, doesn’t understand the rules of football, but it’s easy enough to cheer along when the others do and laugh at their outrage when something doesn’t go their way. It’s the most animated she’s seen Rowan so far, and she’s not quite sure which way their allegiances lie, but it’s probably with the Ravens being in Rifthold and all, and she knows her own is.

Everytime Aedion gets the ball or is shown on screen she can’t hold back the cheers. She’s proud of him and she knows how hard he works to be as good as he is, and even knowing as little as she does, it's special to watch him excel.

Rowan and Fenrys both seem a little starstruck that he’s her cousin, to her he’s just Aedion and they’re the real, scary celebrities, but they gush about him like starstruck little boys.

“And you were at his house last weekend?” Fenrys cries, almost outraged that this is the first he’s ever heard of it, but honestly? They’re both Ashryvers; it’s not like it's a secret.

“Yes,” she laughs. “He’s basically like my brother.”

“Gods, Aelin.” He sounds almost pained that she hasn’t brought this up before. “You've been holding out on us! Please give me his number or introduce me or something.”

“Sorry.” She laughs again and throws a smile to Rowan that he returns with another quirk of his lips. “Invite me earlier next time and I’ll ask him to sort a box for us at the stadium.”

“Seriously?” Even Rowan sounds awed now.

“Yeah, just let me know,” she says. “It’s no big deal.”

It really wouldn't be, Aedion has been telling her for years to invite any friends she wants to games, she would just need some friends outside of him, Lysandra and Elide first.

“It’s definitely a big deal,” he says, watching her with a smirk still playing on his lips.

She shrugs. “Just make sure you text me early next time.”

“Oh, I will,” he says, and she has to look away from him. The way his voice curves around the words, all low and intense, is definitely about more than just the game.

She tries to pass it off as just looking to where Fenrys is cheering loudly at the next play, but Manon is there again, looking at her with such a knowing expression that she immediately focuses back on the TV.

At half time she needs to use the bathroom and Rowan gives her a quick rundown of the layout of the house. She’s quick to do her thing and runs by the kitchen afterwards to grab a refill of her drink and find something to eat.

Rowan had told them all to help themselves, explaining that he felt they had as much right as he to poke through the cupboards in the only just filled rental property and she gets it. The places the studio rent out for them are nice enough, and she’s more than grateful that they do, but it’s never quite home. Even if her home is somewhat impersonal, it’s still home.

She’s on her tiptoes, scanning through the relatively well stocked cupboards on the hunt for anything chocolate, when someone enters the kitchen behind her.

“I know I said help yourselves, but you’re going to eat me out of house and home at this rate.”

It’s Rowan, and he leans against the doorframe as he watches her startle and spin to face him, his legs are crossed at the ankles and his arms are folded over his chest. The pose highlights his powerful arms that she wants to be wrapped up in again and he looks really good in the dim lighting of the kitchen. It bounces off the lines of his tattoo, shining and highlighting the swirls that she can barely look away. She wants to ask what it means.

Aelin scoffs and pushes the cupboard door shut gently, they’re not eating that much and if they are it’s definitely not her, Fenrys and Manon are another story.

“There’s nothing stopping you from kicking us all out,” she says and he laughs, shaking his head.

He tilts his head to the side, his gaze picking her apart by the second before he says “maybe not all of you.”

His words and the way he shifts in the doorway as his eyes run her up and down gives her the confidence to bite her lip and look up at him through her lashes. He pushes off the door frame and comes to lean against the counter by her side.

He opens a cupboard door on her other side and rummages through a shelf before handing her a foil packet.

“I have a feeling this is what you were after.”

She accepts the chocolate and tucks it onto the counter at her side as she mirrors him and leans against it too.

“Unsurprisingly, you’d be correct.”

He presses his lips together before his lips twist again, it’s the same expression from before that she knows means he wants to smile but he can’t quite commit, and she feels her body loosen like she wants to lean forward to press into him. She doesn’t though.

What she does instead is take a sharp breath and a step back. “Thanks.” She waves the bar of chocolate in the air before stepping around him and making her way back into the living room, forcing her steps to seem calm and collected as she feels his gaze heavy on her back.

“Anytime.” His words follow her out of the room, they’re a promise.

Luckily, Fenrys and Manon both ignore it when Rowan follows her and retakes his place next to her.