#people suddenly decided that like with fantastic four

[icallhimjoey]

Explain Us

♥ ♥  Joseph Quinn x Fem!Reader

Summary: So, more than flatmates... but, what exactly? Would be fantastic if you would just, you know, talk about it. But communicating is not your strong suit and you're extremely certain that it's fine. Confusing and vague, but, fine.

CW / disclaimer: rpf, fem!reader, a continuation of define close, no need to read it to enjoy this, though it will help!, language

Author’s note: yea joe fucked up. not talking is fixing exactly nothing between the two of you. but we can be adults about this, can't we? (we can't)

Wordcount: 4.1K

part one - part two - part three - part four - part five

You’d held on extra tight all night.

Squeezed with your fingers, your arms all tense, because what if Joe wasn’t joking and this was the last time you’d get him all to yourself like this? There was this shared invisible way of being that you’d created together which you had always pretended was just normal flatmate behaviour.

It wasn’t.

Of course it fucking wasn’t. And now that Joe had casually said he was moving, your brain seemed to have shut down.

Just touch. Keep touching.

What would you even be to each other if not flatmates? If forced proximity wasn’t working in your favour anymore?

Just friends?

You had to swallow down bile at the mere suggestion of being just friends with Joe.

Flatmates was such a safe way to describe each other.

It just meant, yea, we live in the same space. We share our comfort zone. We see each other a lot and are kind of like family a little, just because of that.

People never asked questions.

There was no need to explain how well you knew each other. How much time you spent together. People would hear 'flatmate' and would assume.

They would assume wrong, because there definitely was more there. But it wasn’t weird when they witnessed you laughing at inside jokes together. Or if they heard you ripping each other to shit until you ended up in a weird wrestle that didn’t stop until someone knocked an elbow to a table top too hard. Or if they heard you casually talk to Joe through a door whilst he was sat on the toilet without acknowledging that he was, you know, actively sat on the toilet.

The term flatmate was safe.

But it was also scary.

Because how many of the other flatmates you’d ever had did you still speak to?

Precisely none.

Not that you’d had many previous flatmates. But still. You didn’t speak with any of those people anymore. They were now merely vague acquaintances that held a spot on your Facebook friend list, which was utterly meaningless, because who even still used Facebook these days?

They’d been chapters in your life that you’d so easily moved on from.

People who, if you’d see them down an isle in a shop, you’d avoid them at all costs and pretend you hadn’t seen them.

You’d never even fully considered that Joe would also one day turn into a chapter of your life that you’d have to avoid in a supermarket and wasn’t that just the most fucked up stupid thing you’d ever even heard?

You knew you were avoidant.

Didn’t really dabble in foolish shit like confrontation.

So it made sense that you weren’t exactly doing so great now that you were being confronted with how avoidant you actually were.

Joe said he was going to move out.

The pile of clothes outside of his wardrobe suddenly made sense.

Had he not said anything before? Had you just not paid attention? Not registered what you didn’t feel like registering? Was your brain working against you with that much conviction?

Felt wild.

But it took you maybe five seconds to decide that you were not going to freak out.

You could be totally cool about this.

Have a night of cuddled up sleep like Joe hadn’t just said he was going to leave you after you’d properly fucked for the first time and, if you wanted to freak out later, you could do that by yourself in a locked bathroom with the shower running after he’d moved out.

So you tried to sleep.

Couldn’t. Because your mind kept going.

But you tried.

Tried relaxing every time you noticed that your fingers were digging into his flesh.

Couldn’t.

But you tried.

And Joe’d just fallen asleep like he hadn’t just dropped a huge bomb into his bed. Like everything wasn’t suddenly shattering all around you. Wasn’t all falling apart. Wasn’t forcing you to slip on your armor, your mask, your disguise. The one you’d wear when you and Joe were around others. Where you pretended to be normal and helpful and friendly and not touching and kissing and essentially licking each other all over.

You’d have to wear the disguise for Joe.

What a disgusting turn of events.

Could you blame him? Yes.

Were you going to? No.

You could be the cool girl. Keep Joe around. Not scare him off with questions like, “How long have you known about this?” and, “Is this legally even allowed?” and, “What the fuck do you even think you’re doing?”. Questions that definitely all needed answers, but you weren’t going to ask them.

You’d learn the answers along the way, you were sure.

Cool girl.

Come dawn, you had managed to stuff your own emotions down somewhere deep. Hoped they’d stay down there until you decided they could bubble back up.

You also hoped that where your cheekbone pressed into his hair would somehow leave a bruise there. On both of you. So he could feel and see how fucked up this was.

Joe’s alarm went, and you swallowed all feelings even further down.

Closed your eyes and felt Joe stir.

Felt him remove the arm that had stayed in place around your waist to turn the alarm off.

Heard him groan and move back to snuggle up close again, and for a minute, you decided to fully just enjoy it for what it was. Closeness with the guy you liked.

Fuck.

The guy you liked.

You let a hand snake into his hair as you felt him burrow back into your neck. Classic five-more-minutes move. When you softly scratched at his scalp, Joe moaned.

All drawn out.

All sleepy.

“Gon’ make me drool,” he croaked, voice hoarse and low. “Fall back asleep.”

You could burst at the seams with how much you wanted that.

Tightening up a leg around his, you used your other hand to lightly stroke fingers up and down his back and felt how Joe sank deeper.

Was this not the nicest thing ever?

Was Joe not going to fucking miss this?

Why the fuck was he going to move?

Joe allowed himself your touches for a few more minutes before a forced deep inhale pulled him from your grasp on him. It was still dark outside, and when Joe disappeared for a morning shower, you contemplated your next move.

Go to your own bed, fall back asleep, and then hopefully sleep through the whole day?

Or go wash your face, do your make-up, and get ready for the day?

Or have breakfast now, and disappear into your bathroom when Joe would have his?

Yea.

That seemed smart.

Breakfast now and then get ready for the day when Joe would come in to have his.

You got out of Joe’s bed, let your eye fall on the big pile of clothes and decided that, in some weird sort of passive-aggressive-possessive way of feeling, that you deserved one of his hoodies.

That you could wear that today.

Make him see something.

You didn’t fully know what, exactly, but it felt right.

You fished one out, not even one that sort of looked like one of yours, and took it.

Get fucked, Joe.

You only just finished a bowl of granola when Joe stepped into the kitchen, his phone and a balled up pair of socks in hand.

“Movers should be here soon,” he checked the time on his phone, tried to make conversation maybe, but you didn’t know what to say. Didn’t want to talk about it.

You watched him hike one knee up to put a sock on, balancing unsteadily on one leg, and then as you walked past him to leave the room, you couldn’t help but let a hand slide across his back.

Last time you got to do that? Maybe.

Shit.

About 10 minutes later the doorbell went and you checked out the window to see a large moving van waiting outside.

When you moved house, you did that by forcing your friends and family to come haul cardboard boxes for you, and you’d thank them by having cheap beers in your new place that didn’t have any unpacked furniture yet.

Not Joe.

Joe got a company to come do all the work for him.

Three men brought in stacked up big industrial strength plastic moving bins and big rolls of plastic sheeting and... it was actually real.

Joe was moving out.

You didn’t even know where to. You could guess. But you didn’t know anything.

You hid in your bedroom for most of it. Made tea with your back turned to all the chaos at one point, but truly didn’t involve yourself in any of the chaos.

From your bedroom you heard Joe pointing out what needed packing. What didn’t need packing. What needed extra care.

It didn’t take all that long. Just as well. Joe was paying these people.

You listened to Joe tell one of them that someone was at the other address, so they were good to head over. Said he’d meet them there later.

The front door shut, and you stared at your bedroom door for a moment. Tried to imagine what Joe’s bedroom looked like now, all empty. And the living room, now without the big cabinet Joe kept old DVDs in that he never watched but didn’t want to get rid of, because teenage-him had begun a collection, and these were the best films.

You kind of didn’t want to see it. The new emptiness.

But then a soft knock on your door pulled you from your thoughts.

“Yea?” So casual. So laid-back.

Slowly, your door opened, and Joe got to see how you sat on the edge of your bed, heels on the frame, knees to your chest, wearing his hoodie.

Joe leant in the doorframe, head tilted to the side, hands in his pockets, and he looked at you like he felt sorry a little. Apologetic in the worst way. You kind of hated it, but you didn’t want to let him see.

Cool girl.

“Wanna come see the new place?” he asked it like he really hoped you’d say yes but fully expected you to say no.

Which was exactly why you were not going to say no.

“Sure.” you shrugged.

“Yea?”

You got up and grabbed your phone, took it off its charger and pretended to check something, mostly to avoid eye-contact and seem all casual as you said, “Yea, why not. I can help you unpack. Don’t have anything better to do.”

Joe didn’t move aside when you stepped closer, and when you looked up, you were met by his little smile, tongue pushed into his cheek whilst his eyes scanned you up and down a second.

Be cool.

You didn’t know if you wanted Joe to say anything about the hoodie you were wearing.

“Or not, if you don’t want my help?” you shrugged again, face blank, and Joe fucking saw right through you.

He chuckled to himself as he removed his hands from his pockets to grab hold of you by the fabric draped over your shoulders, and he pulled you in for a hug.

One that you didn’t return.

“Don’t have to help,” Joe muttered as he squeezed you tight and, yea okay. So, you didn’t get your arms involved, but you could definitely rub your face into his chest a second.

Feel his strong embrace and close your eyes a second.

Smell him a second.

“Won’t put you to work, just want you to come see.”

Cool girl.

Just friends now.

Future acquaintances.

Strangers, eventually.

Joe hugged you even tighter until it became so tight it was funny.

“Fine.” you sarcastically complained, voice all constricted because Joe wasn’t letting up. “Won’t lift a finger.”

You avoided looking at the empty spaces in your flat that used to hold Joe’s things and then left the flat together.

On your way to Joe’s new place you walked side by side and you kept your eyes on the pavement for most of it. Kept your arms crossed over your front. Made sure you were extra spatially aware, because Joe had said that you always bumped into him when you walked together, and you were ready to prove him wrong, prove that you were actually an excellent walking-partner.

Like that was something that was on Joe’s mind right now.

Like he wasn’t in the middle of moving house.

And then, Joe talked.

And you just listened. Nodded along. Went, “Oh, all right.” and, “That’s cool.” and, “Mhmm.” a bunch.

There were several months left on the lease, and Joe offhandedly said it was taken care off, that you didn’t need to worry, like it wasn’t a huge sum of money he was talking about.

Said it would give you some time and space to find someone else, a new flatmate, no rush.

Said his new flat was really nice, and Joe said that like your flat wasn’t.

Said his new flat was in a really nice area. Like your flat wasn’t.

It was.

But, you understood that this one was likely nicer.

You didn’t comment or ask any questions. It just was what it was and you were going to have to deal with the reality of the situation whether you wanted to or not.

No point in pushing anything.

Best to just go with the flow.

You weren’t enjoying the flow, but you were definitely letting it float you downstream.

Joe’s dad was over at his new place now, and halfway there, Joe got a call from him. The movers had arrived, and was there a way to prop the front door open, did Joe know?

Joe didn’t know, but he said he’d be there soon.

Said he was bringing an extra pair of hands and looked at you as he said it. You raised your eyebrows in surprise, and Joe quickly said, eyes.

He was bringing an extra pair of eyes.

However, you were absolutely going to be helping, you knew. Roll up your sleeves and do some heavy lifting, if only to keep yourself busy. And you’d be silly about it, rolling eyes and sighing loudly, all heavy with pretend annoyance, sarcastically exclaim “I thought I was meant to just come over and get a tour?” and then his dad would make fun of Joe for being less of a help than you, and Joe would scoff loudly and stumble through excuses, and then you would flex an unimpressive bicep, and you’d all laugh.

Nothing was going to be a problem unless you made it one.

And then it sort of went like you had predicted.

You walked past the moving van, ended up helping getting furniture into the lift, and the first thing his dad saw of you was your back as he held a door open so you and Joe could carry a cabinet inside.

Then, quickly, before his dad could launch a million questions at him, Joe invited you on a grand tour of the place. Made his dad smile as he listened to his son saying stupid things like, “This is the living room that won’t have a sofa for at least six more weeks because apparently delivering sofas takes for fucking ever...” and, “Here we have a lovely view of, just... other flats, no, don’t actually look, it’s not a nice view, but it’s fine, I didn’t buy the place for the view, looking outside is overrated...” and, “Instead, be impressed with the size of the kitchen, and ignore the mystery drawer that we’ve not been able to open yet.”

Idiot.

Fuck.

Joe was really moving into his own flat. One roughly the same size as yours. Not even that much nicer, you thought, as he showed you ‘round.

But it was all his, and he seemed proud and embarrassed about it, which was devastatingly cute.

You were obviously going to kind about it. Be all impressed. Be a good friend. Postpone the supermarket-avoiding by actually being friendly.

“This is so nice!” you said after you’d gotten to see all rooms. His bed had been taken apart and movers had just placed the pieces of it in a stack alongside one of his bedroom walls, mattress wrapped in plastic stood upright next to it.

Felt stupid, because that wasn’t your bed, but... that was kind of your bed.

“Yea, you think? Not too flashy?”

It wasn’t flashy at all. The bathrooms didn’t look like they’d been redone since 2004, maybe.

“Just that you were able to buy it,” you joked, but weren’t wrong. Buying property in this area of London was absolutely the most ostentatious thing Joe’d ever done. “Everything else? Shockingly normal. There’s Ikea flatpacks in the hallway for fuck’s sake!”

Joe laughed, which in turn made you laugh, and fuck off, you were sort of killing this cool girl thing.

Made Joe laugh when in all honesty you didn’t think he was allowed to feel all joyful right now.

Well, he did.

This was a big deal.

And it wasn’t like you were going to be flatmates forever, were you?

People moved on. People found new phases of life. Next steps. Onto bigger and better things.

In Joe’s laughter, he bent. Leant back with his eyes squeezed shut, reached a hand out to balance himself and it was fine when he just grabbed your arm. You had your arms crossed over your chest, protective and closed off, so a hand gripping a bicep just to keep a body from falling over was fine. You were laughing too, it was fine.

But then Joe used his grip to pull you closer and slung his other arm over your shoulder, and with your arms still folded, Joe pulled you right into him as he hugged you.

You accepted it, but you didn’t.

Wanted to unfold your arms and make your fronts touch, but you didn’t.

Wanted to violently push him away and scream and cry because why hadn’t he fucking said anything.

But you didn’t.

Instead of all those things, you just tensed up in Joe’s hold. Locked your shoulders and bit at the inside of your lip and prayed Joe wouldn’t notice.

Joe immediately noticed.

Without letting go, Joe moved his head back just far enough to get a look at your face. He could easily detect the upset. Could easily see how exhausted you were. Joe saw the anger, the frustration, the sadness all covered in a light sheen of fatigue. And Joe also witnessed from up close how you were working really hard to hide all of that.

Like you could ever hide shit from him.

Like Joe wasn’t fucking trained to snuff it out on you.

Like he hadn’t felt you grasp onto him for dear life all night. Like he hadn’t seen the hunched up shoulders. Like your arms hadn’t been protectively crossed, literally hugging yourself, since you’d left your flat.

And he’d been waiting.

Always waited.

You always took the lead on everything. Steered this ship over dark seas with waves so high, Joe couldn’t see past them until whatever new thing you’d introduced into your friendship became normal and routine. It was safer that way. Have you call the shots.

But he understood waiting had been the wrong move here, and it was already too late when he realised he should’ve said something so much sooner. He just hadn’t wanted to have that awkward conversation. You never talked. But he should have. He knew he should have.

And now seemed as good a time as any to still try his hand at it.

“Hey,” Joe soft said, and gave you a little shake.

You took it as a way of Joe trying to cheer you up and get you to smile.

So you did.

Just smiled.

“No, don’t– you can be honest,” Joe pulled away a little more, getting a better look at you. “Tell me what you’re thinking.”

An invitation to yell at him.

But your smile only grew, and for a moment, Joe almost believed it was real.

“Well, I’m thinking...” you said it in a humorous way, and stopped the moment before it could even become sincere.

Joe gave it one more try, though.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know how I–...”

“I think that wall needs a splash of colour. Bit of paint.”

You didn’t want to talk about it.

You and Joe never talked.

Not talking felt important now.

You needed the not-talking now more than ever and Joe couldn’t taint what you barely even had right now with talking. You were trying so hard, and having him try to suddenly talk seemed so unfair.

So you looked past him, looked at one of his bedroom walls and changed the course of conversation to safer waters.

You felt how Joe’s eyes scanned your face a second. Saw him give in. Felt like he owed it to you to let you call the shots, because he’d made the mistake of not saying anything.

Joe turned around and looked at the same wall for a second before he turned his head to squint at you, countering lightly, “Do I really need to?”

You squinted right back, “I don’t think you really want my honest opinion.”

You knew Joe was going to keep all his walls white. Keep it safe. Keep it boring.

“But you know what would look really nice? Big palm in that corner.”

You tried to keep the mood fun and playful and hoped you could make him laugh again. Which, he did. Joe did laugh. But only for a second, because, “Oh! That reminds me!” and without explaining what reminded him of what, he walked out.

You hesitated to follow, unsure if you wanted to continue this weird interaction with other people present. The hesitation was only short, because it only took a few seconds for Joe to jog back down the hallway and–

Your stomach dropped.

No.

The small crispy wave plant.

What?

Joe proudly raised the little pot he was holding in his hand and walked it over to place it in the window. Then he stepped back and admired it and–

No.

That was– no but, that was yours now. That had gotten moved into your bedroom and, yea, all right, you kept calling it Joe’s plant, but he was the one that kept correcting that it was in your bedroom.

When had he even taken that?

Had he just gone in and grabbed it in those three minutes you’d gone to make tea?

What the actual fuck?

Then Joe turned to look at you, smiled and said, “It's a start?” as he shrugged one shoulder and, no. It fucking wasn’t. That couldn’t be a start. That plant didn’t belong in here.

And neither did his bed, all taken apart.

Neither did he.

All of this was yours, everything inside of this room belonged to you, and if you had arms big enough you’d grab everything and haul it right back, what the fuck was he even thinking?

But then, “Joe?” his dad called him to the living room. Movers had questions. With a final squeeze of a shoulder, you were left in Joe’s new bedroom by yourself.

With his disassembled bed.

Wrapped up mattress.

And that stupid plant.

Which, not yours, apparently.

But you know what?

If not yours, then also not his.

You stepped closer. Touched a leaf with a careful hand. It really was a nice little plant. So vibrantly green. You knew Joe was so pleased with the pot he’d chosen. It was nothing special, but he’d mentioned it a little too often to know he wasn’t being normal about it.

But if not yours, then also not his.

Like a cat, you pressed a finger to the side and slowly pushed it. Made it slide across. Watched as the sun danced over the wavy leaves until it just... slipped off.

Just like that.

Crashed to the floor.

Potting soil spilled.

Plant pot cracked right down the center.

Good.

If not yours, then also not his.

You left right after that. Walked straight out. Ignored Joe as he called after you and took the stairs instead of the lift. Were quick, moved your legs as fast as they could go without turning it into a run.

A deep frown stayed etched into your forehead until you got home, where you angrily shook your coat off like your coat was the one that told you it was moving less than eight hours before the movers showed up.

Where you then also angrily pulled off Joe’s hoodie because fuck him.

Where you rushed into your bedroom and let yourself drop down onto the bed face first.

Where you let yourself cry in heaving sobs.

Where you heard your phone ring and pushed it off the bed when you saw it was Joe trying to reach you.

Where you finally looked up to look at your window.

And saw Joe’s stupid little plant there.

Unmoved.

Uncracked pot. Soil still inside. Leaves soaking up the sunlight.

And–

Fuck.

So much for being a cool girl.

---

The Taglisted

@ali-in-w0nderland, @alwayslindie, @babybluebex, @bylermaxmayfield, @capricornrisingsstuff, @chaoticgood-munson, @choke-me-eddie, @demonsanddemogorgons, @did-it-work, @dirtyeddietini, @djoseph-quinn, @dolcevit4, @eddies-puppet, @emma77645, @emotionaldreamer, @everythinghasafacee, @figmentofquinn, @ghost-proofbaby, @ghostinthebackofyourhead, @hanahkatexo, @harringtonfan4, @hazelenys, @jewellethief, @joesquinns, @keikoraven, @kennedy-brooke, @lovelyblueness, @manda-panda-monium, @mandyjo8719, @mexicanfolklore, @miserybeans, @munson-mjstan, @nadixq, @nglharry, @notverywise, @pepperstories, @phyllosilicate-s, @royale1803, @sherrylyn628, @sidthedollface2, @songforeddiemunson, @sweetberry47, @take-everything-you-can, @thebellenouvelle, @tlclick73, @werepartnersnow, @winterwakesthewolf, @witchwolflea, @yelyahcardella, @yunirgo

taglist currently full, sorry

[certainlynotasimp]

Hii, i think a good idea for a one shot could be that there's a canon event where the spiderperson!reader have to do the iconic Spiderman kiss in their universe, like Spiderman 3 (toby's one) with Gwen stacy or whoever you want, but they are in a relationship with Miguel LMAOOO btw im sorry if there's something wrong with the grammar, english is not my first language <3

Rewrite the Stars

((Miguel O’Hara x Female! Reader))

A/N: A non Sunny x Miggy post? How odd for me lol. I’m so sorry this is super late and to everyone whose requested, I’m working slowly but surely on y’all’s stuff. If you wanna read some stuff in the meantime, here’s the Masterlist and feel free to join my discord.

A/N: I tried doing the you/yours pronoun thing because this isn’t a Sunny fanfic but I really don’t like it lol.

Warnings: Jealous Miguel?, Unrequited/Forbidden? Love, Female Reader/Female Pronouns, Barely use of Y/N, and no Spanish this time ((I’m trying to find a new translator and hopefully an editor))

The universe.

One of life’s greatest mysteries. A mass of stars and galaxies that housed so many lives within its many pockets. The lives of so many people whose lives were already written within its cloudy arms and their ends cemented in its pools of nothingness.

A beautiful cycle of cruelty and destiny.

A cycle that was the reason for your utter misery as you sat at a bar listening to your dimension’s Ben Riley blabber on about some football game you cared nothing about.

His oblivious brown eyes sparkled at the fascination with the game as his dimpled smile accentuates his sharp jawline. The warm lights from above caused a healthy glow to bounce off of his shaggy blonde hair, almost making him look like an angel. You can see why Spiderverse assigned him as your love interest.

In your earth’s canon, you were a typical woman who had gotten bit by a radioactive spider during a high school field trip and you spent your entire high school experience thrashing goons instead of chasing boys. Even helped take down some aliens with the Fantastic Four and the Avengers at times before college finals. Spiderwoman was New York’s beloved hero and the cockiness of being its one and only SpiderWoman quickly got into her head.

That was until six months ago.

Six months ago, you were fighting the Vulture over the Empire State Building when another, more mutated version of the same villain appeared. They both decided in your state of delirium over the doubles that you would be a good plaything.

~~~~~~~~~~

“Hey, I didn’t ask for a combo with my chicken!” A feminine spider’s voice screeches as she avoids the hooked talons of the erratic variant.

The two villains took turns flying menacingly around the scope of buildings to throw the hero off of their location while the other swooped in and tries to rip her throat out.

As she attempts to escape the feathered monster, its companion would come and slice away the web of salvation, continuing the vicious cycle.

Blood blinded her vision as the loud ringing at the base of her skull grew louder. The causes of that annoying alarm grasp their razor claws into her shoulders before sweeping her exhausted body into the air with a victorious snarl.

‘I guess this is the end…’

As the heavens draw closer to her doom, her life hanging up by the slicing of her muscles and bones, a glimmer of fate happens. The warmth of a flash barely registers as the first ache disappears with a startled squeak and a burly force. The sudden change in feeling takes her breath away as she suddenly begins to plummet below.

Her eyes quickly adjusting to the suffocating drop, she can see that one of the Vultures was now fighting an even more prominent blue figure, his howls of pain and unintelligible cursing heard from the stumbling brawl.

As the flash from her familiar foe reaches around the building, she shoots her web at him and used him as a glider.

“Time to ground you, birdie!” She yells as she throws the villain through a window. Catching her grip on the building, she looks at her new foe in the sky and the wind is knocked out of her from the sight.

The man who saved her was in a futuristic spider suit with his mask now off. His dark hair flutters in the wind as the setting sun makes his tanned skin glow. His red eyes glare at the wiggling mutant as his full lips pull back into a snarl. His jaws open revealing a set of large fans before he plunged them into the mutant.

Who the hell is that?

~~~~~~~~~

“(Y/N)?…” Ben frowns as he realizes his date was lost in her thoughts.

You snapped out of your head and fake an apologetic smile. “Sorry, I was remembering something….”

That wasn’t a complete lie. You remembered the day you met Miguel O’Hara. The Spiderman of the year 2099 and the leader of the inter-dimensional Spider Society. The anomaly that had come into your world had brought the two together and you were recruited due to your stubbornness, much to Miguel’s annoyance.

~~~~~~~~~

“No.” His annoyance dripped from these words as he glares down at you. You were caught in wonder at the idea of there being other Spidermen and that they worked together to stop the collapse of the entire universe. The thought seemed too good to be true that you just had to ask if you could join until those red eyes shot your dream through the heart.

“What do you mean ‘No’?” You ask in disbelief. Your own eyes glared deep into his soul as your hands balled into fists. “I’m a Spiderman just like you! How could you-!”

“You are not like me.” He coldly snaps at you, your ranting briefly interrupted as the man towers over you. His clawed hand grasps your face as his glare sets a spark of fury down in your chest.

“You will never be like me and you will never-!” “Is that our new recruit?” A smooth British accent appears behind Miguel as a spiked-headed Spiderman peeks around his bulking figure.

“No, she’s-” The tall punk pulls you away from Miguel with a mischievous laugh as he introduces himself. “Ello, love, my name is Hobie. Hobie Brown.” He leans down with a sly smirk as his mischievous attitude infests your being like a plague. “Just play along, mate. Let’s riffle this wanker’s undies.” He whispers as you giggle.

“Nice to meet you, Hobie.” I allow a sly smirk to slide onto my face as I look back at the now very annoyed Miguel. “My name is (Y/N) and I’m happy to join.”

~~~~~~~~

The distant sound of screams filters through the bar as the distinct sound of a car being tossed into another building.

Looking at my gizmo disguised as a watch, you realized that the canon event was starting.

~~~~~~~~

“You did well today,” Miguel admits under his breath. Looking at him in shock, you realize that he wasn’t scowling like he normally was. He had a softer expression, his eyes shining with approval as his lips quirked into a mimic of a smile.

The mission had almost gone rouge with the escape of a prowler and him hiding low in a crowded dimension. Despite the obvious danger, Miguel opted to go alone like usual, but his lack of spider sense caused him to get caught up in a trap. Talons and Fangs don’t really help if you can’t exactly move around to use them, so he ended up taking serious blows.

Luckily, you managed to get there and tumble with the villain long enough for the others to rescue Miguel, and the team managed to recapture the prowler. Of course all of them looked pretty bad injuries wise, but the look Miguel had as you sat there bandaging up his wounds made it worth it for some odd reason.

“Thanks Boss.”

~~~~~~~~

June 27th : SpiderWoman of Earth 648 will rescue love interest, Ben Riley, from an attack against The Rhino….

The roaring of the mechanical beast fills the panicked screams of the patrons as the sinking feeling falls in your chest. Ben is quick to play the hero like any guy would as he grabs your arm and drags you out towards the emergency exit. Just like the timeline said it would.

You use the chaos to your advantage as you pretend to trip and get lost in the crowd of people struggling to escape from the emergency exit.

~~~~~~~~~

“What do you mean by that?!” I snapped at an irritated Miguel.

Lyla was surprisingly quiet as she watched the duo argue. Miguel whips around at you as his ruby eyes scorched into yours. His talons point at you accusingly as he reiterates your next canon event.

“On June 27th, you are going to be out on a date with Ben Riley. The Rhino is gonna attack that street and you’re gonna save everyone, and afterwards you’re gonna have to kiss him.” His frustration evident as his permanent frown creases.

You stare into his eyes in defiance as you coldly utter, “No. I’m not gonna kiss Ben Riley.”

“And why not? He’s your love interest!” Miguel exclaims, obviously more furious than before. “You’re the Peter to his MJ. You gotta kiss him because you’re destined to be.”

“I don’t love him! I don’t even like his whiny ass!” You snap as you felt your frustrated tears roll down your face.

It’s true. Before you joined this team, you would have been thrilled that you were destined to be with Campus Hunk Ben Riley. He was everything you could ever want from a guy. He was good looking, sensitive, athletic, and social able. The all around good guy you would be proud to bring home to your folks.

But…

Sharp grasp on your shoulder alerts your attention back to Miguel as he slams you back against the desk. His eyes burning embers as he glares down at you.

~~~~~~~~~~

Changing into your spidersuit, you began to fight The Rhino with a distracted daze in your movements.

The memory from a week prior burning in your mind as you sloppily avoided cars and harsh blows. After a few well timed flips and back kicks, the brute decides to throw a large street cleaning truck towards the alleyway. Just like Lyla predicted when she handed you the file.

The Rhino is gonna throw a street cleaner towards the alleyway where Ben is. SpiderWoman will stop the truck before impact and sling it back towards The Rhino ending the fight.

~~~~~~~

“And why is it that you are being so difficult?!” He snaps as his fangs glimmer from his scowl. A cute trait you used to love about him until it was pointed at you. “You are no better than a spoiled child with how you are acting so you better have a good fucking reason!”

You growl back at him with a tear rolling down your enraged face.

He had no right to argue with you about your life, not when he’s the one making it difficult.

~~~~~~~

Shooting a web out towards the buildings, you catapulted yourself into the air and landed in front of the truck. Quickly reusing the web with some enforcements, the truck was bounced back to the The Rhino. The enormous foe gets trampled by the machinery as the crowd cheers for SpiderWoman’s dreaded victory.

“Way to go SpiderWoman!!” A familiar voice joins the crowd as I see Ben on the ground, obviously he either tripped or fell back to avoid the truck. You offer a hand towards him as you thank him softly.

“Thank you.” I faked the smile in my voice as the crowd disappears, leaving the two of you in the alley way.

~~~~~

Finally snapping at him, you yell out in fury,

“BECAUSE HE’S NOT YOU!”

With a frustrated slap to Miguel’s face, you run past him and escaped back to your dimension, heartbroken over how the events to come and what just happened that despite everything you couldn’t change fate.

No matter how many times you fell asleep during long nights talking on his observation deck. No matter how many playful sparring matches turn into flirty comments. Not even the little gestures of bringing the grumpy spider his coffee and him bringing you some sweets during meetings could change that the star already written your path.

You fell in love with a man who isn’t meant to be yours.

~~~~~

It’s been a week since that fight and you still haven’t seen or heard from him. It hurt to know that your confession was brushed aside while you had to continue the continuity. You half at least expected him to be here to make sure you at least followed through with the canon event.

“Would you like a swing home?” I offer just like I’m supposed to. The moment that was meant to be a nervous beginning to a love story felt like the beginning of heartache as I watched a blush form on his face.

“Sure,” he answered before a flash of realization that his date was suddenly not with him. Another trait you wouldn’t have noticed if you were as in love with him as you were suppose to be.

“Hey my date isn’t here…I think she got hurt or lost during the panic.” His concern caused a pang of guilt to stab her in the chest.

Recovering quickly, you shoot out some webbing and playfully hang upside down infront of him. “Well I guess that swinging date will have to be postponed.”

“Wait it was gonna be a-!”

Quickly, you pulled down the mask enough to deliver a quick peck to his rambling mouth. You force out a giggle as he stood looking at you flabbergasted.

“See ya, Riley.” You swing off as the man bumbled to even ask how you knew his name.

Lyla just said it was a kiss, not a what kind of kiss.

With a heavy heart, you swing back home as you tried to remember that this was all for the sake of the canon. That Miguel didn’t care for you the way you did for him. You tried your hardest to tell your aching heart that those past few months were you just making too much out of nothing.

You mournfully entered your apartment through the bathroom window you normally kept unlocked . You stripped away the skin tight fabric before wrapping yourself in the familiar comfort of your robe as you exited the room into a dim lit living room.

You heart stick in your chest as you see Miguel standing there in your living room in his bright blue spider suit and a beautiful spring lily in his hand.

“Miguel? What are you doing here?…” You ask as yoy warily approach him, scared he’s gonna do something to you.

He shakes his head, refusing to answer as he hands you the flower. It’s soft white petals shining in the pale moonlight as you smile fondly at it. They were your favorite flower. Something you told Miguel a million times before.

Before you could thank him for the kind gesture, a soft thump above you alrets you to look up. A spindle of glowing webbing cascaded down the ceiling with the large spiderman now suspended upside down from it. His free hand caresses the side of your face as his eyes stared softly into yours.

“I can’t change the canon, mi amor…” he whispers sadly before mischief lights up his molten gaze. “But we certainly can try to rewrite the stars for us.”

An excited nod from you causes his chest to rumble as he pulls you into a slow passionate kiss.

You were glad this is a canon event for spider men despite it not going as planned.

[mayiwritesomething]

Love is An Unfamiliar Name (Pt. 1)

You’re a sucessful and methodic award winner music composer and producer, that after working on a few movies got invited to coordinate the sound department on a TV series, by your busy and controlled schedule, it will be just another project on your portifolio… but life sometimes has a funny way to surprise you.

Wordcount: 1,6k

A/N: guys just be nice to me since this is my first fic haha, that i decided to write just for fun. I apologize if there is any mistakes since english is not my first language. In this first chapter i tried to give a little bit of our main caracter background (she may seem a little stupid at first, but she’s got a big heart and is just scared of showing too much affection). And since this is a real person celebrity fic i tried just to write a fun story. Hope you like it :)

—————————————————————————

Dinner

"Goodbye, boss! Could you please brief me on how the meeting will unfold?" Jennifer says with a smile.

"Stop calling me that! Jesus!" you respond with a less than welcoming expression, that might scare those unaware of your kind nature.

Jennifer continues to laugh, saying, "Oh, come on! I'm just getting into the spirit. I've already gathered the entire team for the project and sent you the email with the details. I heard this guy Craig is as methodical as you."

She takes another sip of a drink, the contents of which are unclear due to the image quality, but you assume it's some kind of energy-boosting juice. "I also discovered he's a fan of your work, so you're all set! The brainstorming session you organized for the plot is fantastic", she adds, concluding with a laugh, "Bye, good luck, bossy!"

“Bye Jenny!”

Jennifer, has been your assistant of nearly a decade and a friend for much longer, understood your aversion to titles. Despite this, for the next ten months at least, you were going to assume the role of a boss. Coordinating an entire sound team was no easy feat; having experience on both sides, you were well aware of the challenges ahead. However, in this case, you were not just a regular composer working on a typical project. You were a fan adapting one of your favorite games for the big screen, something that filled you with anxiety.

As Jenny had predicted, the meeting was a success. Time seemed to fly by as you delved into your passion for music and its transformative impact on a serie. This phase of your career gave you the freedom to choose your collaborators, and Craig was someone you wanted work with for some time. Over the course of a three-hour Zoom call, you found that you connected well, not only with Craig but also with the rest of the team. Together, you had a productive briefing, establishing the desired atmosphere that would align with both the essence of the game and the script you held in your hands.

As life began to regain its rhythm post-lockdown, you still felt a hint of anxiety about going out and mingling with more than four people. However, this evening called for celebration with your friends, primarily because Jenny wouldn't let you be, insisting that you only pretended to enjoy being by yourself. She believed you needed "some drinks, good food, laughter, tears, and maybe getting laid."

Following your last breakup, you had made a promise to yourself to not date anyone for a year, a vow you upheld not just for one year but for the following one as well. Suddenly, all the men and women you encountered seemed uninteresting, but you still had some fun in one night standings, which by the way made some of the people you met quite angry, as you would just leave without saying anything.

As soon as you arrived at the bistro booked by Jenny for you and the girls, Maria said out loud, “Here comes THE GOAT!!”

'”Shhhhh, Maria! This is a private place,' you whispered, glancing over your shoulder, although people were emerged in their own worlds and conversations, allowing you and your friends to enjoy a pleasant girl night.

“Come on, girl, you're the award winner here, not to mention THE SOUND COORDINATOR! Aren't you thrilled?” Jenny attempted to lighten the mood.

“Of all the episodes, by the way” Amy chimed in.

“Yes, girls, of course, I'm happy”, you replied with a smile. “I am a bit nervous and overwhelmed. It's going to be a year-long project, surrounded by a considerable number of people, that might include some famous individuals whose crazy egos I definitely don't enjoy working with.'

“But hey, you’re not a jane doe honey” Jenny added.

You went on to explain the challenges of dealing with ego driven actors. 'I don't even know what the Game of Thrones guy is like in real life, we only spoke via Zoom. He's an actor; he could portray niceness on screen and be difficult in real life. We all know that's a possibility.'

Jenny and Maria appeared surprised or apprehensive you couldn’t understand the reason, so you kept going, 'He's an actor; he can pretend to be nice and be a dick off-screen; we all know this can happen.'

“Girl… just…” Amy interjected, her expression showing concern.

“What?!” You interrupted her “ Amy, I'm not lying... I'll have to talk to him a lot,' you retorted, visibly frustrated by the thought.

"Stop!”, she continued.

“Why?” Judging by the expression on the girls' faces, you knew you had messed something up. Were the HBO executives present? Where anyone that shouldn’t be there listening to you? Damn it.

Resignation.

This time, Jenny spoke in a hushed tone, “By the 'Game of Thrones' guy, you mean the one sitting right behind you?” She attempted to maintain calm so you would’t crack. She said something else, but you were so flustered that you couldn't make out her words or anyone else's. Should you turn around to face the person behind you? Should you chuckle and say you were joking? Should you just...

“Well, I assure you I'm not a dick, even if someone who doesn't know me may think so,” a male voice behind you interjected. Damn the Game of Thrones guy.

You turned to face him, and he continued, “Hi, pleased to meet you in person, award winner sound coordinator. Well… I'm the Game of Thrones guy, or Pedro, whichever you prefer.” His words made you reflect on how snob you must have sounded. He had heard everything. You felt awful.

“Oh, well, pleased to meet you in person too, Pedro! I didn’t…” You struggled to form a coherent sentence in your head. Damn, he smelled good. “My name is... um… I am…” Nothing seemed to make sense in your mind anymore. Why say your name when you had spoken to him before?

“Never mind,” he said, smiling. “I know your name and who you are. We met before. By the way, I'm a huge fan of your work.” He knew how to be cirurgical yet polite, which made you chuckle, even though you just wanted to vanish.

Pedro was undeniably good-looking, not exactly your cup of tea, but you couldn't deny his charm. The way he responded to your stupid remarks made him seem more intriguing. You felt a bit woozy. What had you gotten yourself into?

“Pedro, I didn’t mean to be rude. I’m sorry,” you apologized, attempting to clarify. “I'm terrible with names.” You were being honest. Now he appeared more serious, and your voice began to tremble. “I mean... I'm only making things worse, aren't I?”

“A little bit,” he chuckled softly, sounding genuine. Glancing over his shoulder, you noticed a beautiful brunette lady at the other end of the table. You waved, receiving a forced smile in return. Back to Pedro. Stop behaving like a teenager. Pull yourself together. Jenny said something, but you didn't catch it. Keep. It. Together.

"I guess I'm the one who came off as a jerk... I know I sounded pretentious, and I apologize," you began, finding your voice. "I've had some really bad experiences with certain actors and their egos, so I was worried you might be like them… so i…" All those therapy sessions seemed to be paying off; he was listening to you, paying attention not only to your words but also to your uncomfortable gestures. You pushed past the discomfort and continued, "I'm truly sorry. I didn't mean to offend you." Your voice dropped to almost a whisper in the last sentence.

"So you might want to think twice before mentioning someone’s name in a private restaurant in Los Angeles, don't you think?" He spoke with a hint of irony, almost provocatively. You took the bait.

"Not tha-" You were about to respond when Jenny interjected, "Hey! I believe Pedro here has a date to attend to, right buddy?" He nodded smiling, and Maria chimed in, "And you, girl, promised us a night out and turned it into a work-related gathering." Those girls were true diplomats.

"I don’t want to take up any more of your time, Pedro," you said, maintaining a serious expression as you locked eyes with his dark gaze, your usual impenetrable poker face firmly in place.

"Never mind," he replied. "By the way-"

"Hey babe, do you want to call your friends to join us?" the attractive lady accompanying him interjected, her tone dripping with irony.

"It won't be necessary," Maria retorted, clearly annoyed. She was hungry, and anyone who knew her understood how irritable she could get when hunger struck. You KNEW she was on the verge of losing her cool.

"I'm sorry for this disruption; we didn't mean to interrupt your date, guys."

"Sorry... you do seem to like that word, don't you?" The pretty brunette girl knew how to be ironical.

"Yeah, thanks for the heads up," you responded, laughing almost manically and subtly holding Maria back, knowing she was on the brink of saying something that could have gotten all four of you kicked out of the restaurant. Jenny steered you to another table far away from them, while Amy engaged the waiter in conversation. Your hands felt as cold as ice.

"See you soon, sound coordinator... oops, AWARD-winning sound coordinator," he said with a chuckle as he returned to his table. "Hopefully, we can prove to each other that we're nice people."

"I'm looking forward to it... Game of Thrones guy." You waved and smiled more than necessary as you both returned to your respective dinner conversations.

You replayed this encounter in your mind all the way home. How could he not be angry with you? There were still a few months until filming begins, and yet you felt an unfamiliar sense of anxiety creeping in. Opening your door, you continued to mull over his ironic parting words: "Hopefully, we can prove to each other that we're nice people," you repeated with a grin.

"Well, I suppose we'll have to wait and see.” You said.

Wait. And. See.

[brawltogethernow]

I actually misremembered who made the suggestion; this is @heyyoufriendthere (orange⬇️)'s fault. Plaintext with annotations below the cut.

This is the very picture of an intellectual rights fracas Comics will warp to be like films as fast as you can say "huzzah" But when a megamonopoly swallows up the competition It yanks our blorbos back and forth in an ugly retcon perdition When only Fox can make a movie about the Fantastic Four, The Disney-owned comic office will shove the Four right out the door Until the Disney studio absorbs those rights and then you'll find The comics are suddenly awful sorry they left them behind(1) Then in the instant comic fans begin to cheer an awful lot The news comes in from Bleeding Cool(2) the writer is that fucker Slott(3)

Oh yes when comics warp to be like films and leave you quite agaw This is the very picture of an intellectual rights fracas

When Disney didn't have the rights to film the X-Men and their friends The Inhumans were their idea to have that same magic again But absolutely nobody could give a damn about their deal There was a gas or something uh, the Moon? Nobody cares get real EXCEPT for Ms. Marvel, the only Inhuman breakout success They want her all over the screen at excited public behest Oh yes when comics warp to be like films and leave you quite agaw This is the very picture of an intellectual rights fracas For years the MCU was not allowed to say the word "mutant" They twisted themselves into pretzels out to recoup every cent The silver screen had two Quicksilvers purely for dumb spite reasons With roots in even dumber masturbatorial rights reasons(4) Wanda and Pietro had their sixth or seventh origin retcon(5) To fit the "No More Mutants!"(6) edict corporate decided upon Then Disney bought the M word back for 73 billion bucks (A number that should make you want to strangle all these greedy fucks)

Oh yes when comics warp to be like films and leave you quite agaw This is the very picture of an intellectual rights fracas

Now suddenly it's mutant city all over the comic line They let the X-Men start a sex cult; also they can never die With no need for Inhumans they admitted that they're pretty cringe And nobody will ever give their lore a proper reading binge The MCU made Kamala a mutant like immediately Faster than you can say "bad adaptation" or "brand synergy" In short order the comics gave her the murderization hook In such a hurry it wasn't even in her own fucking book(7) Now big surprise she's coming back on the fucking sex cult island They gave it less than one whole month before they played their fucking hand So Kamala's a mutant now(8) and got a shitty mourning book(9) Which when she's coming back NEXT MONTH you might call a pretty bad look

IT'S TRUE WHEN COMICS WARP TO BE LIKE FILMS AND LEAVE YOU JUST AGAW THAT IS THE VERY PICTURE OF AN INTELLECTUAL RIGHTS FRACAS

~ (1) "At the time, we were told that the Fox-licensed X-Men books weren't to be cancelled as they made too much money for the publisher, but the FF as a middling sales solo title could be missed without hurting the bottom line."

From 2014, when Fox was preparing its 2015 release of Fant4stic, until Disney's film branch recovered the rights by absorbing Fox, the FF were conspicuously absent from comics. The Fantastic Four book was discontinued for the first time since 1962 (for most of those decades they'd supported multiple titles at once) along with all associated merch tchotchkes. By 2017 there was a Twitter hashtag, #WhereAreTheFantasticFour. If you want to hear some people be driven slowly insane by this, Stormcast had a segment called Stormwatch where they analyzed any Johnny Storm appearances in a given month. We're talking deep analyses of single panels.

(2) I know I just linked them, but part of the joke is Bleeding Cool's weird place in the geek news ecosystem. They report everything first, so for the first week you know something you can't strictly confirm it's actually true.

(3) I don't have time to enumerate Slott's crimes but we hate him. Source: Dude trust me👍

(4) How A B-List Hero Became Hot Hollywood Property Fox could adapt him because they had the rights to all mutants, and Disney could because they had the rights to all Avengers. Some characters are both because the comics didn't use to care about this. This is the entire reason the MCU introduced a Pietro Maximoff and then killed him off. Like seriously who kills off one twin. No that was not based on any comic story.

(5) They're not currently Magneto's kids in the main comic line. Everyone hates this.

(6) This is a cheap reference to the comic storyline "House of M".

(7) They killed her off in Amazing Spider-Man (2022) #26 and none of her supporting cast was there.

(8) Kamala Khan to Return in “Ms. Marvel: The New Mutant”

(9) Look at this thing:

WHO are those anonymously multiracial teens and what are they so goddamn happy about?

~

Bonus

[itskattkm]

New York New Rules | pt. 1

Warnings: Violence, Trauma, Fluff, maybe Smut

Summary: Y/N meets the survivors of the last events in Woodsborrow and gets on Ghostface's list. But there is also a darkness in Y/N wich path is she going to choose

Female Y/N x Tara Carpenter

Sorry for bad writing. I’m using a translator and hope you guys can enjoy it. Also, this is going to be a long story

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5

You sat thoughtfully at your desk and looked out the window. You got the apartment a few months ago and were very lucky with it. You didn't feel like living in university anymore. You wanted your own four walls in the center of New York. With your part-time job at the pizzeria, you were able to save a good sum and were lucky that your boss rented several apartments. So it was almost fate as you like to say.

The lights lit up the city and the sounds of the moving cars and the large groups of people were more intense today than usual. You wonder why? Well... today was actually your favorite day of the year. Halloween. However, you have few friends and remain one of your own bubble. You never go out, never drink and never date. You didn't want to have anything to do with such a thing after the events of last year.

At the moment you are trying to concentrate fully on yourself, because your psyche was not the most stable at the moment. But you could always play that over like a pro. At university you were always the quiet but also nice y/n but you also knew that you didn't let any people get to you and are very careful.

You couldn't get around it and got your phone. You watch on Instagram what everyone else did. They all had fun and were at a party at the Frat House.

"What does Mindy do?" You asked yourself and looked at her story in the next moment. If there was someone you got along with and would call him a friend, it was Mindy. Just like you, she loves movies and has the same courses at university as you. So since you met you guys have always worked on most of the tasks together.

"Sweet" you whispered quietly when she had posted a picture of herself and Anika. Next came a selfie on which she, Anika, her brother Chad and Tara were on it.

You couldn't help it and had to smile when you saw Tara. She just looked fantastic. Whenever you saw Tara. You had this reassuring feeling in you. Something about her was so attractive and exciting. You had the feeling that you could let go with her.

When you realized how quickly you were lost in thought, you turned off your cell phone and thought. Pull yourself together Y/N you didn't even say a word to her.

Suddenly your cell phone vibrated. Surprised, you had picked it up and saw that you had a message from Mindy. When you clicked on it, Instagram opened. In your chat you could see that you liked her stories.

„Well shit…“

But that's how it was and in this case it only suited you.

"Hey y/n! You absolutely have to come by. The party is pretty chill. Could be something for you"

You had to slightly grin. Mindy knew exactly what you didn't like about parties. Maybe she was right? You quickly turned around and looked at the wardrobe. You didn't have a costume. What could you wear?

You got up from your chair and started rummaging through the closet. You had some fishnet tights from last Halloween. A red big cape...

"Why not?" Quickly you were looking for a withe dress that you could wear underneath. You didn't have so many, but your choice was limited. So you decided on the tight-fitting dress that was almost too short. You would only feel comfortable in it with your black shorts.

So the next moment you put on your tight black shorts and pushed them so high that they wouldn't look out from under the dress.

You have already been on the streets of New York as a new and sexy variant of Little Red Riding Hood. The smell of the pizza in your hands was so soothing that you didn't worry about what to expect at this party. And if you're already going there, then not empty-handed. That should be a thank you to Mindy and maybe you could get Tara's attention.

When you arrived at the party, you were easily overwhelmed. Either Mindy had misjudged the situation here or it had changed rapidly in the last 45 minutes. The music was almost too loud for you. You hated it when she was too loud, so you could understand almost nothing and no one, but you always tried your best.

When you arrived in the living room of the Frat House, you looked around again and there she was. She sat on the couch with Anika. When Mindy's gaze met yours, she smiled broadly and you had waved at her as if packed. You quickly sat down with the two of them. "You came?seriously?!" She asked stunned and hugged you as a greeting. You had to laugh and said "how could I have said no, I love Halloween" you briefly hugged Anika as a greeting and put the pizza box on your thighs. "Did you really bring pizza?" Mindy asked with big eyes. You nodded and couldn't do anything about your grin anymore "I couldn’t comhere empty-handed... above all, I know such parties. You're always starving"

Anika looked at you in amazement "for the fact that you are only stuck in your apartment, you are always prepared for everything" you opened the pizza box and the scent of a classic pizza salami blew towards you. It was like a drug to you. You loved it. And the others, too. "Where are the others? I got them for all of us," you asked and hoped to meet Tara right away. Mindy showed with her find to the left "Chad and Ethan are busy with dancing and girls".

You notice how Anika errates next to you "and Tara seems to make a big mistake right away" your looks follow that of Anika. Your heart unconsciously began to beat faster. There she was. She seemed a little bit drunk, you noticed the way Tara moved. But her eyes also spoke for themselves.

"I'll take care of it," said Anika and stood up. You both are watching the situation. The way Tara's eyes flirted with Ricky drove you crazy. Damn you had wished she would look at you like that but even if she would. You would be far too shy and just break the moment.

But wait... that was Ricky. That dude really wasn't good for Tara. We noticed that Anika's help attempt went wrong. For this reason, Mindy got up and said "I'm going to get Chad" I nodded to her, closed the pizza box and went to Mindy to help her.

What happened next went too fast. You didn't know what to do. You had felt so out of place and regretted going to this party. But to summarize what happened. Frankie became slightly tangible towards Tara. But then Chad came and intervened. There was almost a brawl and then suddenly Tara's sister was there and Frankie was tased in the balls. Now we were standing in the park of the campus. Tara and Sam had argued. I looked back and forth in panic. Tried to hear away. I didn't belong to their group and didn't have the right to see this. I was just a friend of Mindy's. I was so relieved when Anika held her arm under mine and held me tight. Together we stood a little away from the others and hoped they would get back together. Thanks to Anika, I felt like I wasn't so lost here anymore. I was so busy with myself that I didn't realize how a group of students almost gave up on Sam and poured a drink over her. Tara used the situation and walked away, the others followed her. Anika tried to follow them, with me in her arm tangled. But I decided to stay.

"Take the pizza with you... they gonna need it later" Anika looked at me slightly confused but still gave me a cute smile when she went after the others. You ran past Ethan and gave Sam a pack of tissues out of the bag you had with you. She looked at you silently for a moment. You could see frustration in her eyes. She sighed and nodded. "Thank you" came from her quietly when she took the tissues to dry herself. You gave her a sad smile and said goodbye. You didn't feel like following the others and because you weren't part of the group, you didn't want to interfere there either. So you were on your way home.

"The evening was worth it"

Did you say to yourself and hoped to lie in your bed soon and just sleep.

First chapter 👀 more coming ✌🏻

[jimblejamblewritings]

Our Violent Delights Will Not Have Violent Ends: The Twilight Saga Rewrite (Book 1, Twilight) | Part 1.

Summary: Y/N Swan is just like every other girl and she likes it that way. Normal is fantastic. Normal creates a functioning member of society. Normal is the reason she moved to a small town to live with her police officer father... only to find out that she gets the farthest thing from what she wanted. \\ This is a re-write of Twilight. Basically if I had been Stephenie Meyer and wrote Twilight. I will be combining some of the movie and book and the pace will be more like the movies. Not terribly high word count like the books. We might equal one book's word count when we finish doing all four of them. Hope you enjoy!

Warnings for the Series: light violence, light angst, light smut

Warnings for the Chapter: none

Pairing: Edward Cullen x reader, Jacob Black x reader

Word Count: 3.5k

Author's Note: If there are "I" written anywhere in the story, please let me know. I'm posting this story on Wattpad in the I form so I might forget to erase one or two here. Enjoy being casted in the feature role of Bella Swan. Let's go:

A police car pulled up in front of you as you waited outside Seattle-Tacoma International. To think, only four months ago you were trying to purchase plane tickets for spring break. Only you wanted to go to New York with the rest of your classmates. The last place you were ever thinking of was Washington. The state, not even D.C. 

And more importantly not Forks, Washington. But you promised your mom that you could handle this. The only thing worse than that small town for the entire year was traveling so much you might as well be homeschooled. When your mom remarried her now husband, Phil, he played baseball for the Phoenix team.

Phil’s good but he wasn’t good enough to be traded around. You thought your whole life would be Arizona. Until Florida called. And your sweet stepfather and lovingly erratic mother packed up everything before suddenly remembering you had school. So moving to Forks had been a you decision but you're not sure how good of a decision that was. 

The car in front of you rolled down its window until you could see your dad. Charlie flashed a smile that you struggled to return. He’s great. You've spent every single summer with him and almost every one of those summers was in Forks.

But two months is a lot different from the entire school year. You knew only a few people that would be going to Forks High School. A pang hit your heart when you thought about your friends again. You guys promised to call but you'd probably fall out of each other’s lives anyway. But you tried to smile once more, putting your suitcases in the back of the police car and pulling on a thick wool sweater over your shirt and overalls. 

As soon as you slid into the passenger seat, it started to rain — a stark reminder that this wasn’t Phoenix. 

You could feel Charlie’s head keep turning to the side to look at you. Like your dad in more ways than one, the start to small talk was awkward for you. The two of you went back and forth in a silent dance until Charlie saved you from speaking about the weather. 

“Your hair has gotten longer.” 

You grabbed a piece of your now shoulder length hair. Two years ago, in the spur of the moment, you had shaved your head to start over. It was the moment after that you decided you would never do that again. Charlie had to suffer the period of you not being able to look at yourself in the mirror. You looked like an egg. It took dedication but your hair was now long and damage free. 

“Yeah, I’ve tried to stop using heat completely. Except the blow dryer.” 

While starting small talk might have been difficult, once Charlie and you were talking no one could get you to stop. The conversation was still going as the car passed the ‘Welcome to Forks’ sign that should have read population: too damn small instead of an actual number — and even when we got out of the car and into the house. Your room wasn’t terribly different from other summers but you noticed drawers and wardrobes that weren’t there before. You guessed when one permanently moves they suddenly need storage for their things. Charlie even cleared more bathroom space. 

That was probably the one thing you hated about this house. One bathroom. Someone should have slapped the architect that ever suggested this… and then slap the builder that followed through anyway. 

You only unpacked the bare essentials for the next week or so. The rest could be slowly unpacked as time went on. Charlie helped for a few hours before doing his shuffle he does whenever he’s uncomfortable. All he could say was okay before leaving the room.

Even though you two can talk for hours, he’s still awkward to his core. You supposed that you should be happy as a teenager that he doesn’t hover. He never has. You used to think it was because being a cop made him busy all the time and he just developed the habit. As the years went on, it became more apparent that it was just his personality. 

A car honk right outside the window caught your attention. You looked through the glass to see an orange pickup truck and some of the only two faces in town that were familiar to you. Your feet carried you out the door before you were even aware until you crashed right into a boy with hair longer than yours, roughly your height, and only a few months younger in age. 

“Woah, Y/N/N, slow down before you hurt yourself. You know you can't be trusted on your own two feet. I'm surprised you're still standing right now or is it just because I'm holding you up.” Jacob said as he gave you a smile. 

“Whatever, dick."

"Whoa, Y/F/N. Language when you're standing right in front of me," Dad interjected but he didn't look that offended.

"Sorry... Hi, Billy.” 

“Hi, Y/N. Glad you’re back and here to stay. Charlie wouldn’t shut up about it since you told him.” 

Your dad rolled his eyes. “Keep talking and I’ll roll that wheelchair right into the middle of the road.” 

“Not before I ram you in the ankles.” 

You and Jacob’s dads abandoned you to play fight in the road. You couldn’t help but chuckle at the sight. 

“I’m glad to see they’re still behaving like that.” 

“Oh, yeah. Days go by and nothing’s different. It's getting worse with old age actually, I'm convinced that's why Mom is always on business trips… So, do you like your present?” 

You turned to face Jacob. “Hmm?” 

He patted the truck just as your dads came back. Your eyes went wide and your lips twitched until they formed a large smile. 

“Are you serious? This is perfect! Dad, you didn’t have to get me a car.” 

Charlie shrugged. “I work late sometimes and thought that your personal autonomy was very important.” 

He’s trying to sound like a parent that actually read the child psychology books. The why he bought me a car didn’t matter. It was the fact that he just did. A truck didn’t exactly fit my aesthetic but something about vintage ones totally did.

"Don't worry, I worked on it myself. Everything's perfect," Jacob said.

"You did this? By yourself now? Jake, what the heck. That's crazy you're doing it on your own now. Why are you so amazing?"

Before anyone could actually answer you, you whipped open the door and sat inside. You remembered this truck very well from playing in it since you and Jake were four. Billy had this thing for at least seventeen years. The first thing you noticed were the new leather seats. They were pink instead of gray. The second thing you noticed was the engine’s sound. Smoother than it had ever sounded before. 

Jacob opened the passenger door, hopping in to show you how the car operated. He was a genius at fixing cars and trucks. You wouldn’t be surprised if he owned his own mechanic shop some day. 

“And that’s it.” He patted the steering wheel. “If anything breaks, let me know.” 

“Thank you! God, I’m so glad I have one recognizable face at school.” 

“You’ve only been missed two summers. Did you already forget I don’t go to Forks?” 

“Right.” 

Jake, like most of the Quileute kids, went to a high school on the reservation in La Push. People weren’t as judgmental when they all shared something common. There they could wear their hair long, tell folklore stories without getting made fun of, or try speaking little words here and there of Quileute so the language doesn’t die with their great grandparents.

All things you would have loved to be part of or just sit on the sidelines and observe. Maybe you should have complained to Charlie until you went there. Now you couldn’t leech off of Jacob and had to actually make friends on your own. Disgusting. 

Your sentiments didn’t change as you got in the truck and headed to school. You were assigned a parking space the moment you transferred. Unlucky you, you were stuck in the front parking lot.

So much for leaving to go get a better lunch than whatever grub they were going to serve at the cafeteria. Charlie worked too much to even think about asking him to get you something. And you couldn’t ask him to cook either. He’s not really shit at it. It's just his taste buds suck. So unless you wanted to text him a specific lunch menu each Sunday, it was Russian Roulette of lunch. That was too much work. Charlie thinks salami and grapes belong on the same piece of Nutella and butter toast. 

When you finally found the parking space, after three circles around, you turned off the engine and found a bunch of eyes greeting you. Lots of them. That’s what being the new kid in a small town gets a person. The eyes stopped staring once you got out of your truck — they needed a face to match the name Bella Swan. 

“Nice ride,” a black boy in a red hoodie said as he nodded at your car. 

“Thanks, just got it.” 

“Cool.” 

You didn’t exchange any other words before you entered the building. You stared at the paper schedule, trying to memorize classrooms and the stupid tiny map in the corner. An arm suddenly tapped your shoulder. 

“You’re Y/F/N Swan, right? Our new girl.” 

You turned to your right to see an Asian boy with a black polo shirt and the most emo haircut you've seen in a while. You took a double take at his outfit and then at the outfits of your peers around you. Suddenly, you were feeling terribly overdressed.

Your thrifted Burberry monogram poncho doubled as a blanket that you would inevitably need because it sat on top of a long sleeved black mini dress. Was it impractical for January in Washington? Probably. But fashion made everything work. At least you had worn snow boots. 

“Yeah. It’s just Y/N by the way.” 

“Just Y/N. Got it. Well, hi, I’m Eric and your eyes and ears of this place. Anything happens and I know about it. If you need a tour guide, shoulder to cry on, or lunch date then I’m your man.” 

Eric made conversation naturally, no small talk in sight. Kind of like Jacob. You chuckled. “I’ll take a rain check on the lunch date but I do need to find room 33C.” 

“Let me lead the way.” 

He started to lead you down the hallway and to a set of stairs. “So, why move to Forks?” 

“I’m not a baseball girl.” 

Eric snapped his fingers. “Perfect tagline for your spread. I’m the editor-in-chief of the paper and you are front page news.” 

“Oh… Just the front page right? I mean I don’t mind the paper but more than two pages and I’ll transfer.” 

“Got it. Spread killed, feature only. And here’s your stop.” 

“Thank you so much.” 

“I’ll be back for whatever other classes you need to find.” 

True to his word, Eric came back and led you to all my morning classes, including the dreaded P.E. You didn’t hate exercise. You just hated whatever wasn’t pilates or a Jane Fonda workout. Besides, you were never good at P.E. anyway. The testament to that was the gym teacher thinking you should do the volleyball exercises with some of the other girls. 

You flinched as the ball came towards you. It didn’t go back over the net. Instead, it hit my calculus desk partner, Mike Newton, in the back of the head. 

“Sorry!” you yelled as you sped away to hide in the locker room until lunch period. 

Mike seemed to forget about it when lunch came. He talked your ear off all the way into the cafeteria. You had forgotten that a small town wouldn’t be like Phoenix. Everyone wanted to talk to the new kid. Whether they were friends or not was yet to be determined. But Mike was a gentleman. He pulled out your seat for you. 

“Thank you.” 

“My pleasure, Madame.” 

Eric laughed. “Mikey, glad you met my girl Y/N.” 

“Oh, your girl?”

“Excuse me, my girl. We even bonded over cars,” The black boy from earlier rubbed your hair in fake affection before pulling the chair out from under Mike. 

“You’re so dead, Tyler!” he yelled as they ran after him. 

The two girls at your table gave a mix of a laugh and a scoff. A girl with a chunky pink headband slid over a juice carton from her tray. 

“Sorry about that. It’s like kindergarten all over again, isn’t it? You’re the shiny new toy. Hi, I’m Jessica by the way.” 

“Oh, almost forgot,” the other girl with glasses picks up a camera. “Smile!” 

The flash blinded me for a moment. “Woah.” 

“Sorry, I need some candids for the spread.” 

“The spread is dead, Angela,” Eric said in an oddly defensive tone. “Don’t bring it up again… I got your back, babe.” 

You couldn’t help the laugh that escaped from your throat. Eric left, leaving you, Jessica, and Angela at the table. Angela set her camera down. 

“Great, now what am I supposed to do about filling up the rest of the newspaper? I can’t do another editorial on teen drinking. It’d be the third time.” 

“You could always run a psa on eating disorders,” you tried to offer an option. “Or um… padding on the swim team?” 

The other girls looked at you and for a moment you thought you said something completely wrong but they began laughing. You caught bits of the conversation as you focused on my food: some of the guys bragging about their sizes that seemed totally fake, speedos fitting improperly, and wondering if they only pad for school pictures. 

Going back to the conversation, a glimpse at the window caught your eye before you could speak. Five people walked like this school was a runway. 

“Who are they?” you asked. 

Jessica dropped her fork on her tray, ready to tell you everything. “The Cullens. Dr. and Mrs. Cullen’s foster kids.”

The names were ones you couldn't remember hearing while visiting over the summers. They were either new kids or never came around La Push. One thing you couldn’t deny was that they were all attractive. And the shorter girl had wicked fashion sense. She strutted by like the rest of them in her thin and flowy white maxi skirt with a chunky black sweater and heels entirely too high for you to ever try wearing. You felt almost entranced just looking at them.

“They’re all like together,” Jessica continued. “Rosalie, the blonde one, yeah she’s with the big one, Emmett. Like a thing.”

“Jess, they’re not actually related,” Angela quickly interjected.

“Yeah I know, but it’s still kinda weird that they live together, don’t you think? Anyway, the small dark-haired girl Alice is with Jasper. He’s the one that always looks like he’s in pain. The two blondes are actually siblings, Mrs. Cullen’s niece and nephew or something like that.”

“Dr. Cullen’s like this foster dad matchmaker.”

“Maybe, he’ll adopt me,” Angela said.

You chuckled. If Dr. Cullen was such a matchmaker then you’d have to tell Charlie goodbye.

“What about him?” you motioned to the last guy left. He walked ahead of his foster siblings like he was the leader or something. 

“Edward? Totally hot, supposedly single. No one here seems good enough for him. Don’t waste your time. Like I care, just don’t waste your time.” 

“Trust me, wasn’t planning on it.” 

You knew that Jessica could have a skewed perspective. Maybe something happened between the two of them but Angela seemed to agree with her. This Edward probably was nothing but bad news and trouble.

You dared myself to look at their table again. Your eyes squinted when you saw their trays. Nothing looked touched. When you looked up, all five of them were staring at you. You whipped your head around and didn’t dare look back again until after lunch. 

Thankfully, the classes you had right after lunch didn’t have any of them… until bio class. The teacher, Mr. Donoghue motioned for you to sit at the only empty seat that happened to be next to Edward. You nodded and began moving to the chair. A chill ran down you spine and you shivered as the chill pierced your back. Edward stiffened up at the same time. 

You scowled as he held his hand over his mouth and nose. You had taken a shower, put on nice perfume, lotioned, and wore nice jewelry. There was absolutely no way you smelled. His hand stayed over the lower part of his face the entire class period. Even when he had to hand over material, he pushed them to you with a pencil. The moment the bell rang, Edward was gone. Good riddance. 

Mr. Donoghue signed the last spot in my slip saying you made it to class successfully and now you could give it to the receptionist. You paused in the doorway after seeing someone’s back but it was too late. The receptionist had seen you. 

“Just a moment, dear.” 

The person with the back turned around to reveal a troubled face. He grabbed his coat. “Never mind, I’ll just have to endure it.” 

You rolled your eyes, handed in you slip and went to your truck. Edward was a total douche. Yet you couldn’t shake the feeling that we’d be seeing each other more often than you’d like. Probably more often than he’d like as well. 

Charlie wasn’t finished working when school was over but had enough time for a dinner break. His friend, Waylan, brought takeout from Subway. You didn’t remember Waylan very well. He left for most of the summer each year to visit his kids and grandkids that left Washington. You all moved stuff around on Charlie’s desk to clear space so you could eat. You had a Spicy Italian sub while the two of them ate BLTs. The two of them shared a different sentiment about the Cullens when you asked them. 

Unlike the kids at school, they had nothing but praise. The Cullens weren’t weird but mature and well-rounded teenagers. And Dr. Cullen was the best surgeon they’ve had… and he stayed past one year which is an accomplishment. Certain jobs like doctors and lawyers always come from out of town. Most leave after one or two years, not able to handle the slow pace of this green and gray town. 

Soon, Charlie and Waylan talked in the most stereotypical old man fashion that you had actually checked out of the conversation. Your cellphone rang as you grabbed a potato chip from the small bag that came with your sandwich. 

“That’s Mom, I’m gonna take this.” 

“Tell your mom I said hi, Y/N/N.” 

You nodded as you walked away.  

~~

The next day at school, Edward wasn’t there. You had planned to confront him and find out what his problem was when he didn’t even know you. You weren't exactly popular back in Phoenix but no one had any issues with you. Never. 

However, his siblings were there. Not that you were going to approach them. Your problem was their brother not them and you weren't trying to make enemies in such a small town. You watched them walk into the building as you leaned against your truck. You turned when something hit your back. 

“Y/N!” 

You laughed as you looked at the Twizzler on the ground. “Seriously, Tyler? How dare you waste good food,” you said as you grabbed your bag and walked over to where the kids you met yesterday were all crowded around what you assumed was Tyler’s van. 

He shrugged. “I would hardly call Twizzlers the peak of fine dining.” 

We all walked inside at the start of a bell ringing. The day had been pleasant without your science partner. And the next day was the same when he didn’t show up again. And the next day until the entire week had gone by without Edward showing his face. 

Your first week of school was lucky. You had missed any torrential rain. But you couldn’t say the same for that Monday. The only thing worse than rain was rain when it was below freezing outside. Your front steps were covered in ice. Your phone rang as you closed the house door.

"Hey, Jake... First week done, somewhat a success. Hey, when is Spring Break for you guys? We should totally start coordinating now if we want to try and leave town."

Despite being careful as you talked, you must have stepped incorrectly because before you knew it, your butt had gone down the last three concrete steps leading away from your door and to your driveway. 

“Woah, woah, Y/N/N. Are you okay?” Charlie asked as he helped you up. 

“Yeah, just fine, Dad. Ice isn’t exactly helpful to the severely uncoordinated.” 

“That’s why I got new tires for you. The old ones were getting pretty bald.” 

“Thank you.” 

You both high-fived before getting into your respective cars and leaving. It felt like you were already used to the routine of Forks when you pulled into your parking spot and found yourself automatically going to Tyler’s van. You sat with Jessica, Angela, Eric, or Mike whenever you had class and swapped snacks with Tyler in between every morning class because your lockers were right next to each other. And the group always walked to lunch together. 

“Salad or Sandwich… Hello? Earth to Y/N?” 

You blinked to see Jess snapping her fingers in front of you. “Sorry.” 

“We wanted to know what you wanted? The lines are backing up so we’re splitting up and tackling stations.” 

“Nice, divide and conquer the cafeteria.” 

“The Vikings got nothing on us.” 

“As long as the only thing we’re conquering and pillaging are those sandwiches.” 

“Absolutely. They might have had great hair but I'm not interested. So, ham and cheese, turkey, or those stupid cucumber ones that no one likes?” 

“Hey, I like them!” 

Jess laughed and walked to her designated line. Mike and you were in charge of gathering everyone’s desserts and soups. Three wanted brownies and three wanted chocolate chip cookies, four wanted tomato soup and two wanted chicken noodle. You all wanted saltine crackers. Every now and then, you looked over your shoulder at what made you stop in you tracks. Edward was back. 

And your biology class was the first class after lunch.  

(part 2) ...

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[warningsine]

Season 5 of “The Good Wife” was a fantastic, thrilling season of television. Yes, “The Good Wife” is primarily about a clutch of well-heeled attorneys in a few Chicago law firms, which doesn’t quite sound like edge-of-your-seat suspense, and yes, it required four years of back story to fully understand, which is a lot of commitment for new viewers. But “The Good Wife” is a prestige drama built on the network model, meaning that its 22-episode seasons offered plenty of entry points to drop into the world of the characters, whether that was through ongoing fourth-year-associate drama or a tech-oriented case of the week. One of the reasons the season was so appealing was because it contained its own arc, too—the long-awaited denouement of Will and Alicia’s smoldering romance, precipitated in large part by actor Josh Charles’ decision to leave the show. The fifth season told the story of Alicia attempting to establish independence, and some of that meant hurting the people closest to her. When Will died suddenly partway through the season, Alicia was forced to deal with how much she’d hurt him—and ultimately found a path to making a mark without either him or her husband, Peter, when she decided to run for Illinois state’s attorney.

This season has not felt nearly as rewarding. Now, the question I get from fellow fans of “The Good Wife,” over and over again, is simply: What happened? The tightest network drama on television fell apart, seemingly overnight. On the eve of the finale, it’s hard to tell what this season has been about: We watched an election, a stint in prison, an investigation of a drug dealer, and the aftereffects of voter fraud, but it has been difficult to assemble the events into a cohesive narrative, and harder still to surmise why any of that narrative matters to us, the viewers. The upcoming seventh season is widely believed to be the show’s last, which somehow makes the missteps more poignant. Is this how it’s going to be from now on? Was it all downhill after Charles left the show? What went wrong? Here are at least some of the things that made Season 6 a strange, unfulfilling disappointment.

1. Kalinda, part one: The character

It’s kind of impossible to discuss “The Good Wife’s" trajectory so far without acknowledging the increasingly different role of Kalinda Sharma (Archie Panjabi), the impossibly badass legal investigator who was very important in the first few seasons and then the center of a rather unsatisfying plot with her estranged husband, Nick, in Season 4. (Indeed, the plot was so unpopular with fans that the drama’s showrunners, Robert and Michelle King, wrote Nick out of the story a whole half-season early.) As revolting as Nick and Kalinda’s adventures with soft serve were, Nick was only a symptom of the bigger problem: The Kings had no idea what to do with Kalinda. The character was a creative darling they couldn’t bring themselves to kill—made harder, I imagine, by Panjabi herself, who is admittedly fantastic in the limited role.

Kalinda’s raison d’être in Seasons 1 and 2 was her friendship with the main character and titular good wife of the show, Alicia Florrick (Julianna Margulies). She wasn’t just Alicia’s closest friend in those first few years at the law firm, she was her only friend. Then at the end of Season 2, Alicia discovers that well before they were friends, Kalinda slept with her husband, Peter (Chris Noth). Both are devastated, and their relationship never heals. The show turned its attention to different things, partly because that’s the type of avoidance people pursue on a regular basis in order to get around awkward, intimate conversations.

It was a beautiful, sad breakup, all the more so for being a friend-breakup instead of a romantic one. Alicia threw herself into an affair with Will (Charles), driven, clearly, by a need to one-up both her husband and her best friend. Kalinda carried a torch, of sorts: She saw Alicia as an innocent she’d managed to hurt with her carelessness, so she became fiercely protective of her. It became melodramatic—Alicia’s daughter disappeared, and Kalinda found her; Alicia talked to the wrong criminal, and Kalinda went to the mattresses, with a baseball bat at the ready.

And without Alicia’s friendship to humanize her, Kalinda became a caricature. Her authenticity with Alicia couldn’t really be replicated with anyone else without betraying the essential nature of the character’s closed-off reluctance to connect with other people, so she became a tight-lipped, leather-clad robot, more an embodiment of tortured “cool” than a relatable character. What the character needed was to mend fences with Alicia and resume her role as mysterious but loyal sidekick.

By sometime in Season 4, it seemed like it was on the horizon. They’d both made some efforts toward reconciliation (the chair-turning was a big step), and every other character relationship involving Alicia was explored in great detail: She reckoned managers, co-workers, extended family and political rivals. Kalinda brought Alicia some stuff when Alicia was working on a case in Minnesota, and they hung out in a hotel room, kind of just like old times.

And then it just… never… happened.

That moment in the hotel was the last time they spoke. In 2014, BuzzFeed reported that Margulies and Panjabi had not been in the same scene for 30 episodes—when they had to speak, it was merely on the phone. Then Panjabi announced she was leaving at the end of the sixth season. But that deadline did not change her on-screen dynamic with Margulies. At this point, the two have not been in the same scene for more than 50 episodes—an insane factoid, considering both actresses won Emmys for playing their roles opposite each other in the first few seasons of the show. As of right now—one episode away from the end of Panjabi’s tenure on the show—the most closure we’ve gotten on this friendship is a flashback and a handwritten note conveyed through a third party.

As a viewer who is invested in the relationship between these two characters, it has not been satisfying in the least—and worse, seems manufactured to manage some off-screen drama. The general consensus is that the two actresses had a falling out, but how that could affect their shared scene-time in a business where ex-romantic partners routinely act opposite each other is anyone’s guess. But the shift left Kalinda at loose ends, arrested partway between a reconciliation with Alicia and increasing narrative irrelevancy. Josh Charles’ off-screen decision ended up being a limitation that worked in the Kings’ favor; for some reason, Panjabi’s situation wasn’t as manageable.

The result is that the sixth season is a slog of missed opportunities and unfulfilled desire—platonic desire, sure, but desire nonetheless. Will’s absence has left a void in the show’s character-driven storytelling that Kalinda simply could not fill. There is no analogue to Season 5's scintillating “A Few Words,” but for Alicia’s friendship with Kalinda; there is not even “Yet Another Ham Sandwich,” to round out the first two stories of grand jury indictments that both centered on Kalinda and Alicia.

Which leads me to my next point:

3. Anticlimax

Almost every major story line in this season of “The Good Wife” has fizzled out. (The only one that didn’t was the one about Kalinda, and as I just attempted to explain, nothing with Kalinda felt like it was working.) Every story line—every exhaustively plotted story line—took its characters to a place that looked and felt an awful lot like the beginning, but seemingly without the intention of commenting on that strange déjà vu. Like:

a) Firm musical chairs. So it’s Florrick & Agos, but then Florrick, Agos, & Lockhart, and then Lockhart, Agos, & Lee. Got all that? There’s some reasoning for why all these lawyers keep switching places, but the main reason is that “The Good Wife” didn’t want to write out either Diane (Christine Baranski) or David Lee (Zach Grenier) as regular cast members. But in order to justify that, the story has to undergo a Byzantine rearrangement of names and partnerships—and goes one step further, into the almost unthinkably convenient: It moves the new firms back into the old offices of Lockhart/Gardner, just a few months after Alicia and Cary so dramatically took their leave.

b) Election drama. Alicia runs for SA, wins, but then gets embroiled in an internal Democratic Party scandal and is forced to withdraw. It’s devastating, but it renders most of the season’s storytelling meaningless—what was the point, Alicia seems to be saying to herself, as she furiously sands down a salvaged wooden door in last week’s “Don’t Fail.” At least she has the door. The rest of us have no such comforts. Almost 20 episodes of storytelling, including famous guest stars, charged conversations with Peter, and Alicia having to campaign for something with her complete lack of poker face—and yet the show never truly explained why the hell Alicia wanted to run for office, or what she thinks is “good,” or “right,” or “necessary.” So much of the show leading up to this season has indicated that Alicia is a character driven by ambition and self-interest. It’s only occasionally that the characters have had a moment to pause and ask themselves—am I doing the right thing? Do I care about what I’m accomplishing? Alicia’s campaigning did not bring her closer to at-need populations in a significant way, or reveal to her the rich rewards of power. Instead it just seemed to be a thing she did because she was tired of lawyering, which struck me as phony in the extreme: Anyone who watched Alicia defend a case would know that she lived for her moments in the courtroom.

After all of that—all of that—to have her lose the seat in what is both hurriedly explained and a little too pat (Wouldn’t there be a recount? Red tape? Technicalities?)… well, it’s enough to make even the most loyal of fans a little batty.

c) That whole plot that was lifted from “The Wire,” or something. When it started, the subplot that dealt with the firm’s dealings with drug kingpin Lemond Bishop (Mike Colter) seemed like one of the rare moments where “The Good Wife” would take note of the almost shocking amorality of its protagonists, these assembled lawyers who use the terminology of truth and justice almost exclusively to get paid a great deal of cash. Bishop has hovered in the series’ periphery from the start; in Season 6, he becomes markedly more dangerous, to the point that he gets Cary in jail and facing six years of prison, forces Kalinda to run errands for him, and uses his lawyers as a fence to avoid prosecution.

All season, this plot seemed like it was poised to blow; all season, it doesn’t. Things happen, yes. But the impact of the story never sinks in. Alicia has to fend off some questions about Bishop during her election, but otherwise, it’s a nearly isolated suspense plot—one that culminates in Kalinda sacrificing her life in Chicago in order to protect the people she cares about and put Bishop behind bars. She’s disappeared before, as we’ve been told. But the audience already knew she was leaving the show, meaning that as soon as Kalinda started tangling with Bishop, it was not hard to guess that he would be responsible for how she was going to get written off the show.

In short, we got a lot of stories that ended approximately nowhere—while taking the most predictable routes to get to the aforesaid nowhere. Not even Sarah Steele as Marissa Gold, mining comedy out of every moment she’s on-screen, can make that better.

4. Where's Eli? 

Alan Cumming’s Eli Gold—joined this year by his daughter Marissa (Steele)—is one of the show’s real treasures, a Rahm Emanuel type with an irrepressible personality and more heart than he’d like to admit. An election plot seemed to guarantee time with him—I mean, that is what happened in Season 2, when he was brought on full-time—but instead the election plot was dominated by performances by David Hyde Pierce, David Krumholtz, Steven Pasquale and Oliver Platt. That’s a lot of new faces in a show that was already struggling to tell character stories without Will Gardner; Eli would have been, at least, a familiar presence. Instead, part of the reason the election story line felt interminable was that it was really hard to care for all these new characters, though they’re all capable actors. Margulies always makes the most of things, and it was fine, but it just didn’t feel compelling or fantastic, which I’ve come to expect from this show. Plus, there was that whole thing with Alicia hooking up with Pasquale’s Johnny, which was just weird, because:

5. Just kiss already!

The best thing about Season 6 was the introduction of Matthew Goode’s Finn Polmar, the extraordinarily handsome not-so-subtle Will replacement who eventually moved into the old Lockhart/Gardner offices. Any time Alicia needs a lawyer, she doesn’t call Diane or Cary, she calls Finn; midseason, they approach a perilous near-kiss, before Alicia demurely backs off. I get it: The Kings probably want to build up that relationship in the seventh season, both so that they can impose a reasonable amount of time between Will’s death and Alicia’s next relationship and so that they have something to do in the seventh season. But it has been so boring watching them delicately maneuver around each other. I know it’s common practice to do the big romantic twists in the season finale, but this season could have used an injection of good ol’-fashioned banging to keep things interesting. (Lest you call me uncouth: “The Good Wife” has lust baked into its premise, and in Season 3 featured some of the hottest sex ever seen on network. This is a show whose energy feeds on libido.)

--

Let me be clear: “The Good Wife” has surprised me in the past, and it might manage to again. Last week’s “Don’t Fail” was one of the first great episodes after a stretch of middling ones, and the show has surprised me both in season finales (like the one coming up next week) and in its ability to make a whole season pivot on a dime, from mediocre to brilliant. Everything could change Sunday night, and I would be so happy to see it. But if you want to know what went wrong up till now, unfortunately, the reasons are all too clear.

[nekoannie-chan]

Out

Title: Out.

Fandom: Marvel, Fantastic four.

Ship: Johnny Storm X Reader.

Word count: 177 words.

Rating: Teen.

Summary: You won’t forgive Johnny.

Major Tags: Break up.

Additional tags: This is my entry to @sweetspicybingo, Sweetheart Bingo Card & square 5:

"Fuck you.”

You can read it on Wattpad and Ao3 too.

@saiyanprincessswanie

My native language is Spanish so I wanna improve my writing skills in English if you notice any mistakes, please let me know and I will correct them.

I don’t give any kind of permission for my fics to be posted on other platforms or languages (I translate myself my work) or the use of my graphics (my dividers are included in this), I did them exclusively for my fics, please respect my work and don't steal it. There are some people here who make dividers that anyone can use, mine is not this type, please look for the other people. The only exception is the ones I gifted 'cuz now belong to someone else. If you find any of my works on a different platform and are not one of my accounts, please let me know. Reblogs and comments are always welcome.

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Marvel's characters (unfortunately), except for the original characters and the story.

Add yourself to my taglist here.

My other media where I publish:  Ao3, Wattpad, ffnet, TikTok, Instagram, Twitter. 

If you like it, please vote, comment, and give me feedback to improve my skills and reblog.

Tags: @sinceimetyou @unnuevosoltransformalarealidad @navybrat817 @angrythingstarlight @shield-agent78 @charmed-asylum @pandaxnienke @real-fbi @smokeandnailz @white-wolf1940 @tenaciousperfectionunknown @xoxonotme @bluemusickid @leyannrae @harrysthiccthighss @marvelatthisone @caplanbuckybarnes @sapphire-rogers @lizzieolseniskinda @notyourtypicalrose @hallecarey1 @nana1000night @talia-rumlow @writingshae @alexxavicry @azulatodoryuga @daemonslittlebitch @chaoticcollectivenightmare @endlesstwanted @chemtrails-club  @marigoldreamer @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @here4thefanfics @theestorm @patzammitt @kmc1989 @somegirlfrom

You went into what would soon no longer be a shared flat. You started looking for boxes, but suddenly you decided that you wouldn't give him the boxes; you would just use them to store the stuff and then carry them to the window to throw them out and let that idiot pick them up off the street if someone hadn't already taken them.

Not because you wanted to give him his stuff, but because you needed to humiliate him, and of course something like that would do it.

"Come on, Y/N, we can talk; just stop," Johnny said as he tried to catch all his things and put them together while you continued to get rid of them.

"Fuck you, Storm," you said, closing the window.

You weren't going to spare him; you'd already spoken to the locksmith; even if you couldn't get the key back, you'd make sure he couldn't get back in; and if he insisted, you'd pour buckets of cold water on him; you'd already prepared them and had them at strategic points.

[rubywrites-4]

Such a backstabber🔪🩸

warning: violence, inappropriate language and more ⚠️

Johnny Storm had never been the type to settle down. He was a former playboy, known for his charm and charisma, but all of that changed when he met Y/n. She was different from anyone he had ever met before, and he knew from the moment he laid eyes on her that she was the one for him. They had been dating for a while now, and Johnny was convinced that Y/n was the love of his life. He had even started planning on proposing to her, wanting to spend the rest of his days by her side. But little did he know, his playboy ways were far from behind him.

Y/n had a close friend who she had known since she joined the Fantastic Four team, and unbeknownst to her, this friend had caught Johnny’s eye. Despite his feelings for Y/n, Johnny couldn’t resist the temptation of his friend, and soon enough, he was having an affair behind Y/n’s back. As the day of the pre-wedding party arrived, everyone was in high spirits. Johnny’s side chick was there, mingling with the other guests, and everything seemed perfect. But then, chaos erupted.

Bombs went off, sending guests running in every direction. Johnny was frantically searching for Y/n when he finally spotted her, standing with blood on her white wedding dress, tears streaming down her face. His heart shattered as he realized the extent of his betrayal.

Rushing to her side, Johnny hugged Y/n tightly, vowing in his heart to be loyal to her from that moment on. But just as he was about to profess his love, he felt a sharp pain in his stomach. Looking down, he saw a knife protruding from his abdomen, and when he looked up, he saw Y/n standing before him, a devilish smile on her face. “you thought I really do love you huh Storm?” She laughed at Johnny and continue pushing the knife deeper into his stomach

Suddenly Doctor Doom made his appearance while clapping his hand saying “bravo sweetheart” & kissed Y/n on the lips “mhm I missed you baby” Y/n moaned in the kiss and Doctor Doom replied “ I missed you more my baby” while kissing her back more deeper.

Johnny, Sue and everyone looked at Y/n in disbelief and was confuse of what’s going on and then a flashback played where Y/n is actually spy sent by Doom and also his girlfriend as well. Y/n acted as that innocent and sweet girl charisma and won everyone’s heart including Johnny’s and they both started to get to know each other and decided to date. Each and every time Johnny insisted sex, she would drug Johnny and goes to find evidence on the documents Johnny has secretly kept hidden while he’s unconscious and the next day she make him believe that they had sex and he passed out in tiredness. One final day she had found the important details and evidence of the Fantastic Four Team.

Flashback comes back to the reality where Y/n looks at her friend that she acted fake friendly and said“ I don’t have anything against you but no one shall have a friend like you who steal what’s belong to others so you know what you deserve bitch? ” Y/n winked & reloaded the gun to shoot her friend on the chest and forehead. Johnny didn’t even blink his eyes because of the shock and the fear he had for you at the moment

Evil smile presented on Y/n face and then she looked over Sue and smirked “ you would come after me for doing this to you” Y/n sighed and shot sue on the shoulder and apologized “I’m sorry Sue! You’re nice but I have to” luckily the shot didn’t affect Sue badly

Johnny scream and struggled to get out of the grasps Doom’s people had on him. Tears, fears and the pain do betrayal presented on his face and he asked Y/n with pleading eyes “ Y/n you bitch! Such a backstabber!! how could you do this to me ?” Y/n looked at him and laughed “ah little boy you don’t get to say that. You literally had a side chick and did things so you don’t get to talk about betrayal” y/n smiled sarcastically and told “lucky me I didn’t love or date a manwhore like you for real”

Y/n shot Johnny on both legs and he screamed in pain. Doom took his girlfriend’s hand “let’s go baby. I missed you so much” y/n smiled and pulled him for a kiss. Doom smirked and said “ah not here princess… let’s go to our home”. Both of them walked away holding hands and Y/n turned around to see Johnny fighting for his life while tears streaming down his eyes, Y/n smiled devilishly and showed her middle finger “this is how you do it mothafucker” then blow Johnny a kiss before walking away.

[yen-sids-tournament]

Disney Sequel Movies Final Results

Congratulations to "Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Man's Chest" for being our ultimate tournament winner!

We would also like to congratulate "The Lion King II: Simba's Pride" for winning the Animated Sequel Tournament!

Both of these movies are fantastic in their own right but also masterfully continue their original story into the next phase of their worlds. Well chosen, voters.

Thank you to everyone who submitted movies, reblogged/commented/liked our posts, and voted in the poll(s). Without your engagement, we would've stopped a while ago.

Below are our final thoughts from this tournament:

First things first: we absolutely thought Cinderella 3 was going to win it all. It would be interesting to see how Cinderella 3 would do up against Dead Man's Chest. Would it be closer? or would Cinderella get crushed worse?

Speaking of Cinderella 3, the Animated finals was so close! The first half of the week C3 managed a small but consistent lead over LK2. Then LK2 fans were mobilized and suddenly LK2 was miles ahead! the last two-three days C3 fans managed close the gap. It was like there was a steady ratio of votes that had been disrupted by the mid-week spike. We firmly believe that had the poll been open for another day (even half-day) C3 would have taken the title back. Alas, LK2 won fair and deservedly by 17 votes.

On the other side, Thor: Ragnarok got further than we though considering the number of people who disliked it in the first round. We were pretty sure it would be taken out by Spiderman: No Way Home. But winning there pretty much guarenteed it would beat the DCOM film.

Speaking of DCOM, we had no idea High School Musical 2 was so popular! It's our favorite of the HSM group, but we were thinking the more recent Descendants would be more of a challenge.

Another close race was Pirates v Princess. There PotC won by just 18 votes. We had expected it to be a close one. This was also the poll we anticipated it most likely for people to bring the actors into the debate to persuade. As great as it would have been to see praise of Julie Andrews or Keira Knightly or Orlando Bloom or Chris Pine we want to thank everyone for not using us as a place to debate the personal actors involved in the films.

Going off on actors a moment, how many of you all know that George of the Jungle was recast for the sequel?

We would also like to highlight that the top four submissions we received were Cinderella 3 (top), The Lion King 2 (second), The Little Mermaid 2/The Lion King 1 1/2 (tied third).

(We had structured the bracket so those four would have the best chance to face off. But Kronk happened (in the best way))

In fact, Cinderella 3 was the first submitted, had 3 of the first 6 submissions, and was almost able to book end by almost being the last submission too. (C3 also had enough submitted propaganda that rounds 1 and 2 are different where everyone else is working with the same)

The most submitted Live Action sequel was The Chronicles of Narnia: Prince Caspian.

As for a lesson learned: We know the way a ballot/poll/tournament is structured will inherently impact the results. We don't think we will set up the first round like this one's again when there's less than 64.

Now for the standard disclaimer: with the exception of 1 or 2, all the propaganda used was not created by ourselves. The words were pulled from the google form, the gifs are from the search here, the videos were from youtube.

Finally, for those of you anxiously awaiting everyone's favorite color:

Half of y'all like the blues/purples! Blue is slightly more beloved on it's own

about 7% of you picked the wrong answer (black) but none of you picked the other wrong answer (white)!

We gotta acknowledge the call out for Teal specifically. It aint blue, it aint green!

But secretly, while we might say purple when asked, we agree with the 2.5% of y'all who can't decide.

[monochromer0ses]

corruption

himeko, march 7th, stelle x gn reader

warnings: foursome, gn reader with a cock, corruption, mommy kink (himeko) cock warming (himeko) spit kink (march) choking (march) belly bulge (stelle) degradation (stelle)

notes: first one shot!! lets gooooo! i think this time around ill be a lot more motivated, at least i hope so lmao. anyways hope everybody enjoys

himeko felt ashamed. ashamed for the way her heart sped up whenever you simply kissed her in front of stelle and march. how uncomfortable her underwear suddenly felt when march had accidentally walked in on you and her.

(it was embarrassing for the simple fact that you were only kissing (again))

and she felt ashamed for how unbelievably wet she always seemed to get from the thought of corrupting the innocent minds of the two younger women.

himeko seemed to not realize one thing though. that of course you would notice. you're her significant other, it would be worrisome if you didn't.

at first you were surprised. who wouldn't be? but then you decided to play around with it. whether it be by whispering in himeko's ear while you pound into her about how hot it would be for stelle and march to get down on their knees for her, or to kiss her a little longer, a little hotter while in front of the two.

the latter you know will never fail to get her completely soaked.

and so comes a lucky day when everyone else on the express is out exploring, you finally have a chance to help himeko act on her dirty fantasies(and perhaps your own as well).

you dont quite remember how you did it, but here you are now with all four of you completely naked, with march lightly kissing up your cock, and stelle hesitantly licking at himekos nipple.

march seems to know what she's doing albeit a bit embarrassed, while stelle has no clue. which is fine. that's exactly what himeko wants.

"there you go honey just like that~ what a good girl you are," himeko coos, the shame flying away the second stelle and march's lips hit their respective places.

you chuckle a bit as you run your fingers through march's hair. "i bet you two are gonna love this as much as mommy does right?" the name hits himeko just right as she moans softly, cradling stelle's head closer to her chest, heat spreading through her.

"h-how about we do something more fun my babies?" himeko blushes brightly, her confidence from the name making her want to rush, want to feel the fantastic feeling of release.

stelle releases her nipple with a small pop, looking up at himeko with confusion.

it all goes by both too fast and unbelievably slow, like it couldn't end and yet was over already.

stelle's a quick learner, eating himeko out so well that himeko has a trail of drool slowly leaking out the side of her mouth. and march seems to have learned that licking up anything that leaks is a good way of preventing a mess.

you want himeko to be fucked. you want her to be fucked so hard she doesn't know how to speak coherently. and stelle and march achieve that.

himeko is completely out of it after around four orgasms. usually she wants to go further but each of them were harder and longer than the last. the first from stelles mouth while kissing march, the second riding marchs thigh while stelle got obsessed with sucking and biting around and on her breasts.

the third she was cock warming you while they both did their best to clean her up. which turned out to be for naught as juices continued flowing down your cock.

her final orgasm came from you thrusting into her while march and stelle each took a breast, nipping at the skin above, squeezing a nipple and then gently lapping at it. while it was simple, it made himeko cum the hardest out of the night, feeling each part of her body she loved the most to be played with, getting toyed with by the people she loved the most.

and what came next surely made himeko mad she was already tired out.

you fucking stelle and march. a hand gripping around marchs throat as she opened wide for the slow dribble of spit coming from stelle. flicking her clit everytime her attention was driven away by himeko or stelle. march especially loved when you stuck your thumb into her mouth, grumbling about how loud she was getting.

stelle loved when you hugged her from behind, arms wrapping tight around her torso and stomach to ensure she didnt fall forward, cock going so deep you both could see the slight bulge moving up and down with each thrust. her favorite though was when you called her a slut, for taking your cock so well for a virgin.

your whisper of, "i bet you would love if i took you to belebog and fucked you in front of your little friends down there wouldnt you?" had stelle instantly cumming, screams of "yes please!" and "fuck me!"

and if stelle and march had officially been corrupted into loving taking your cock and sucking himekos tits? well mission accomplished.

[icallhimjoey]

so I love your work, I love how you write joe and yeah amazing honestly but I kid you not “Sunshine Blend Dark Roast” has got me kicking my feet and giggling like a little school girl🥺😂

me too! shit! and im the one writing it, gosh, what an experience! here's the last part, i hope it lives up to everyone's expectations! Wordcount: 3.2K ---

Sunshine Blend Dark Roast

part one - part two - part three - part four - part five

Joe was there at 3, just like he said he was going to be and even after your shift, you were all energy. All bouncy. All ready to go be around Joe for a little while, because this was exciting.

“Where do you want to go?” you asked, stepping out, knowing being outside with Joe was risky. You weren’t stupid. But then, as you fell into step together, Joe suggested Starbucks, albeit as a joke, and you huffed a laugh. Yea, not a chance, you big dumb idiot. “People will see us there,” you said, and you frowned in thought. It threw Joe for a loop a little because, yes, exactly. People would see you there. Was that not what you wanted? Be seen out with him?  

“You know what,” you stopped walking. “I can do a fantastic pour over for us at my place,” you narrowed your eyes, seemed to think something over, then looked at Joe, smiled, and said, “This way,” and turned on your heel with a hop. 

It took Joe a second to mentally adjust to what was happening. 

You were walking Joe over to your place. Your flat, house, whatever. Your home. It was so forward, and so direct, Joe’s brain couldn’t really catch up quick enough with the reality of the situation he had suddenly found himself in. It made him follow you like a lost puppy since you were clearly in charge of the situation. You wanted something from Joe. He just hadn’t expected it to be this and for you to be so casual about it all.

Okay.

Yes.

He’d be willing to give.

You were gorgeous, and sure, terrifying, but it was the fun kind of scary, and although he always felt like he was one step behind, not fully in on the joke, he followed your lead blindly. You wanted something from Joe, and Joe decided on the doorstep of your home, that he was going to give it to you. 

Stepping inside, you immediately apologized.

“Sorry, I forgot about the– okay, so you know how sometimes, you take a hot mug of tea to bed? I did that, yesterday, mug in one hand, phone in the other,” you yapped away as you shrugged off your coat and threw it over a chair. 

“And usually,” you stepped into the kitchen where you started rummaging through cabinets. “I throw my phone onto my bed, and then carefully set the mug down on my bedside table, but this time,” you turned to see Joe stand in the middle of your flat, gaze trained at your sofa.

“I flung the full mug of tea at my bed and only realised what I’d done when I carefully placed my phone down on my bedside table.” 

You smacked your hand to your own forehead before tipping beans into a coffee grinder. 

You’d slept on the sofa that night and hadn’t bothered tidying up after yourself. Your duvet, pillows, and even your fumbled up pyjamas all made a big intimate mess of your living room. 

Joe just stared at it until he let a small grin take over. A girl had never so readily shown him her bed before. Temporary or not. This was where you slept.

Joe knew what you wanted. And he was going to hand it right over. 

Joe joined you in the kitchen, leant against the counter and watched you make coffee with a smug smile playing on his face. It took you much longer than it did at the coffee shop, but you seemed even more into it, and Joe stared at your expert movements through half-lidded eyes as you rambled through more stories. 

Joe wouldn’t have gotten a word in edgeways. Not that he tried, anyway. There was something about having you absolutely steamroll him with information, all chaotically in your verbal communication whilst your hands seemed all steady, muscle memory working hard, crafting perfect cups of coffee for the two of you. 

When you finished, you turned to Joe with two cups in hand, and Joe knew this was his chance. 

You’d stopped talking, looked at him all expectantly, and Joe found the courage to just, go for it. 

He stepped forward, let his hands find your hips and grinned at you as he got closer.

You didn’t smile back.

Joe leant in for a kiss, his movements fast.

But you leant back as well. Moved away just as quick. Nearly spilled the coffee, didn’t speak, but your face read pure fear as you stared at Joe, who still had his hands in an inappropriate place on your body.

Then it dawned on him, and it burned him up from the inside out.

It landed like a gut punch.

Pure knocked Joe’s breath straight out of his lungs.

A grand misstep.

Way worse than all the prior ones. Combined.

Humiliated and horrified.

Oh no.

What the fuck did Joe think he was doing? The complete doom that overtook him shattered everything he’d believed to be true up until this point. The voice in his head was screaming, top of its lungs, deafening horrid sounds that made Joe want to actually vanish.

Joe’d missed the last step of the long winding staircase again, but this step was reflective, bright orange, had been so difficult to be missed. But he missed it. Totally missed it. And he could run all he’d like, big steps, in a bid to save himself, but there was no way his knees weren’t going to meet the floor and scrape themselves bloody.

This was a misstep that could scar. Leave real marks, Joe knew. It was the worst thing Joe had ever done and he plummeted right into thick, sticky anxiety.

You watched Joe take stiff, robotic steps over to your sofa and sit down on top of your duvet, head in his hands, absolutely shitting bricks. He was muttering to himself, rocking slightly, talking himself through what appeared to be an active panic attack.

You looked at the coffee cups in your hands. You were fine. That was just a weird move. You were just meant to be having a coffee together. Your mind flooded with things to say, jokes to make, ill-timed and harshly worded, but Joe didn't need putting in place. Joe needed help, and you looked at the coffees in your hands and thought of what you could do to help.

“Do you... do you want some whisky in yours? I think I have some,” you placed the coffees back down and opened a cabinet. “Oh, I don’t. I’ve got baileys. Would you like some baileys in your coffee?”

You turned to look at Joe. Still rocking. Still muttering.

“Joe?”

Joe snapped to look at you, but didn’t say anything.

Joe was about to break.

“Yea, all right. He looks like he needs it,” you said to no one. “I’m just going to go ahead and...” you poured in some baileys. Then, also in your own cup, to not make it weird. You looked over your shoulder at him. “Little more,” and gave Joe’s cup another healthy splash of liquor. Oof, that was definitely too much.

How to navigate Joe Quinn, sat on your sofa, which was also now your bed for the time being, going through a panic attack because you didn’t kiss him back? Safe to say this was a situation you never thought you’d find yourself in. But here you were. And alcohol seemed like a reasonable solution, no?

You sat down next to Joe, curled a leg under your bum to sit on and placed Joe’s coffee on the table in front of him.

He then turned to you, not making eye contact, and he was shaking. Because he hadn't just tried to kiss you, had he? He was going to go in for more, wasn't he?

Joe was reeling. Dizzy with all of it. He didn't know why his eyes were wet, but he knew he had questions.

“You don’t want to… I mean, wait… but, you don’t?”

You did. You did. But this wasn’t how people went about things, was it? Not how you had ever gone about things, at least, and just because this was Joseph mother fucking Quinn pressing his body up against yours in your kitchen, didn’t mean you were going to go about things in this way right now. You’d never even properly talked with him, had you?

You weren’t going to be that easy.

Weren't going to let it all pop, only to let it all fizzle out way too fast.

You weren't disposable.

But, yes, you did want to.

You wanted him to make you see full galaxies, the ones that lived behind your eyes. You wanted him to crowd all your senses. You wanted his arms around your waist, and his eyes so close to yours that your eyelashes would tangle when you blinked. You wanted that mouth on yours, softly, because look at how plush his lips were. But then also roughly, because this man gave you cute aggression and you needed to squeeze him until his skin broke and all his bloody guts spilled out. Kiss him until you were both bleeding from your mouths.

But you also wanted to hold and protect, because Joe looked broken a little, pained inside in dark places you didn’t know how to reach and it was an unknown mixture that didn’t seem to want to emulsify and gel properly within you. 

Fuck and caress.

Hurt and comfort.

Smack him across the face, because what the fuck, Joe, but then also hug him so very tightly, whisper that it was okay and that you had him.

You did want Joe to kiss and to touch and to hold. You did. But not right here right now, you didn’t. You just wanted to have a coffee with him, so you shook your head and couldn’t help the little smile as you scrunched up your brows at him. Joe looked so lost, it was a little endearing.

“What do you want?” Joe didn’t get it. Never understood. Couldn’t even begin to understand.

“I don’t know,” you shrugged, all casual, like Joe hadn’t just died and traveled to hell and back right in front of your eyes.

“I like playing. See you go all shy. Give you compliments to see your ears go red,” you confessed. It didn’t help. Joe just stared at you; blank faced. You tried to see cogwheels turn, but Joe gave you nothing. So then you suggested, “Maybe we can hold hands later.” and it made Joe turn his head away from you slowly to stare into nothingness for a moment.

It gave you a moment to taste your coffee. Ooh, yes, that was definitely too much baileys in there. You looked at Joe’s cup – that was going to be undrinkable, surely.

“Hold hands?” he then sputtered. So confused. Almost grossed out by the looks of him, as if it was a preposterous thing to suggest.

“Yea, holding hands could be nice, couldn’t it?” you shrugged again, smiled thinking of it. Holding hands with Joe would be nice. You were kind of right. The voice of reason resided within you, you concluded.

“Why?” he spoke on an exhale.

What a question. Joe was really going through it.

“Pffft... I don’t know, why do people ever hold hands?”

You thought you’d gotten him a little out of his brain there for a moment, but he slumped right back in. This time you could see how his eyes darted around the room. Cogwheels inside definitely turning. Gaining up speed too, by the looks of it. His breathing steadied slightly, and you thought, okay good, Joe was coming back around.

And he was.

Because then he turned back to you, and offered you his hand.

Holding hands would be kind of nice, Joe agreed. The simple kind of nice he hadn't known had been missing from his life for a while now.

You looked at his hand for a moment, then scrunched your nose as you made eye contact with him. He still looked a little ashen, and you knew he was still spaced out, all floaty, locked up in his head somewhere. But, you could coax him out. You knew exactly how.

“Are you sure?” you teased, a little unsure if Joe was going to be able to handle your play.

“Yes,” Joe said, his lips threateningly close to smiling.

You got him.

“Just checking,” you said, as you took it, fingers interlacing. “I love a man who’s sure.”

Did you end the date all awkward? Yes.

It was a quick goodbye at your door, a strange hug that didn't really even count as a hug, you thought. It also lasted too long. Made it even weirder.

Did Joe promise he'd see you again the next day? Also yes.

He said he'd come in to get a coffee, promised it, two hands wrapped around one of yours as he said it, like he thought you'd absolutely die if he wouldn't.

Did you tell him, "Relax, you big weirdo"? No, but you sure as hell thought it.

Little Joey seemed far too fragile to take any more of your dumb shit yesterday, so telling him he was a weirdo didn't feel right. But today, as he walked in, he seemed... comfortable. At peace, a little. No tensed shoulders. No tight lipped smile. Maybe Joe had read your mind when you mentally told him to relax, because clearly, he'd listened.

"Good morning, what can I get you?" customer service voice, a chipper tone you'd never used on Joe before.

Joe stared up at the menu behind you, like a real customer would do.

"You know what, I think I'll have a large cappuccino,"

It took you a moment, but your smile was already there, tugging up the sides of your mouth because you didn't think Joe would ever surprise you. Not like this.

"Are you sure?" you barely got it out of your mouth, it sounded all strained and made Joe smile before he answered, "No."

And you laughed. Spilled all of your butterflies right out of your stomach within your laughter, right onto the counter, where everyone got to see.

"So adventurous!" you quipped as you reached for a cup. "I love an adventurous man,"

Now it was Joe's turn to laugh, and he shook his head. You had an answer for fucking everything, hadn't you?

Then, it was all giddy excitement.

You smiled at the man you were absolutely gone for, cup in hand, sharpie in the other, and had the audacity to ask for his name.

"Joe."

You couldn't fucking believe it. Your eyes turned into love hearts at Joe's stupid smirk and no one else existed for a moment. It was just you and Joe in the coffee shop and it was all pink, and all fuzzy. Joe just gave you his real name and let you win the game.

You loved playing games, and you always played to win.

Making a cappuccino never took this much time. You spent way too long on it, wanted to make sure you did it real good for him, not make him regret straying from his safe space, where he was comfortable, where he has the boring usual. It was just a regular cappuccino, but, it wasn't. It was much more than that.

When you finished and slapped the lid on, Joe was there at the end of the counter, waiting, like he always was, and where you always found the time to play. You held out the drink to Joe, and Joe moved to take it, but then, like last night, you moved back. Out of his reach. For a fraction of a second, Joe's face fell, but your grin saved it.

"You want this?"

And they were words of magic, because Joe then, for the first time in months, dared to think of what he wanted.

"I do,"

"Then come get it," and you bent your full body over the counter, leant onto your elbow, but held your other hand back, outstretched all the way, the cappuccino far behind you. It meant Joe had to get closer to reach. Way closer, until he was close enough to kiss.

"You want this?" You whispered, but still smiling, and you could feel in your bones just exactly how much Joe wanted it. Joe's feet found the last step of the large winding staircase safely this time. Knees unscathed. All guilt washed away as your lips found each other, and you kissed.

Joe wasn't the one who closed the distance between you, that was you, but Joe was the one who decided he could wrap hands around your neck, strong fingers around your jaw with thumbs across your cheeks. Joe wasn't the one who let your kiss grow deeper, that was you, but Joe was the one who licked his tongue across your lips, even though your mouth was already open to begin with.

You kissed until you wanted to climb over the counter, and Joe's head was spinning. Absolutely gone for each other. This is what Joe wanted, and the sheer realisation of it filled Joe all the way up the brim with strength. Self-confidence. Force. Energy. The want to play. It filled Joe up with all this good, so much, you felt it drip into your own mouth, and it made you smile. It made you smile hard, until it made you laugh and Joe couldn't hold back his own throaty giggles anymore as you finally broke away from him.

Joe was blushing like you'd never seen a man blush before. Neck, cheeks, ears; all rosy red and blotchy and cute, oh so fucking god damn adorable, lips all shiny, you could hardly stand it.

Joe reached for the cappuccino you'd forgotten about, were about to drop if you hadn't been reminded of it, and said, "bye," real close to your face, making you hold in a squeal. And Joe could tell. Just made his grin grow even wider as he was about to step out.

"See you tomorrow, idiot!" you shouted after him before he did.

And outside, Joe saw.

For the first time in months, you'd not written Joe on his cup. Joe gave you his real name. For the first time, his real name! Gave it to you, for you to write it down on his cup, and then, you hadn't.

Joe sighed. Smiled. Shook his head and moved his cup so his hand covered the word "idiot" you'd written in all caps, because other people wouldn't understand, and took another sip.

Actually, this cappuccino wasn't all that bad.

Maybe he'd try something different again tomorrow.

He wasn't sure, and wasn't that beautiful?

He'd see where this adventure would take him. Walls down, voice silenced, darkness aside and sweet golden sunbeams cascading down. Maybe he'd focus solely on what he wanted.

What did Joe want?

Joe knew.

Joe wanted to wear sunglasses and stare straight into the sun for hours. Joe wanted to risk going blind, because it was all play, and it seemed so fun. Joe wanted to leave the dishes for a moment, because he was going to nail this essay, he just knew it. Top marks, he was so sure.

Joe knew what he wanted. Knew what he liked. Knew exactly what he craved more of.

It was scary. But it was so fun. And it was all you.

---

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[katareyoudrilling]

Couples Getaway, Part 2 (Marcus Pike, Dave York, Carol, Fem Reader)

Series: Couples Getaway

Pairing: Marcus Pike x Female Reader, Dave York x Carol

Summary: A year later, the men take the lead in your next partner swapping adventure.

Word count: ~2.3k

Rating: Explicit (18+ only. NO MINORS)

Content Warnings: Partner swapping (everyone is enthusiastically consenting), unprotected PiV (established relationships), oral (f receiving), exhibitionism, voyeurism, sex toys, dirty talk

A/N: This is a follow-up to my kintober partner swapping fic, which you can find here.  Just like the first part, it is filth for filth’s sake.  Big thanks to everyone who expressed an interest in reading more of these four and especially to @just-here-for-the-moment for the beta!

Reblogs and comments are very much appreciated!

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Wear this to dinner  -M

You find the note from your husband sitting on the bed next to a hot pink remote-controlled vibrator.  A shiver runs down your spine despite your skin still being warm from the shower.  Marcus may seem shy and reserved to most people, but he is full of surprises.  Heat pools in your belly at the thought of Marcus teasing you all through dinner.  You’re in for an interesting evening.

You and Marcus are on your annual vacation with Dave and Carol.  This year, you opted for a ski resort in the mountains.  It has been about a year since your last trip together.  The trip when you and Carol proposed swapping partners in the pool.

You’ll never forget that night.

The memory has been getting both you and Marcus off all year.  Just one word, “remember” whispered in your ear while Marcus fucks you can send you over the edge.

But it’s not just the memory of Dave running his filthy mouth while he thrusted into you that does it – it’s how turned on Marcus looked while Carol took him in his mouth… how absolutely wrecked he looked while he fucked her.  Watching him give another woman pleasure was even more arousing than you expected.

After the trip last year, the four of you decided that it would be a vacation tradition.  Only one night every year.  You’ve been wet ever since.

The men are leading the way this year, leaving you and Carol to wonder when it will happen.  Any night may be the night.  The anticipation is enough to take your breath away.

Every night so far has ended with Marcus pulling you into your bedroom while Dave pulls Carol into theirs on the other side of the suite.  

It’s day four of your vacation.  Only three more to go

You pick up the vibrator.  It rumbles suddenly in your hand.  Marcus is giving you a little preview.  It looks like tonight will be another fantastic night with your husband. You’re not complaining.

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

The resort restaurant looks out over the mountains.  The moon hangs low and bright in the sky lighting up the snow-covered peaks.

The server seats the four of you at round table near the roaring fireplace and hands you your menus.  He returns a moment later to fill your water glasses and read the daily specials.

As he steps between you and Marcus, a buzz from the vibrator nearly sends you out of your chair and you fight the yelp that almost escapes your throat.  The server moves between Marcus and Carol and it goes off again and again you fight to control your reaction.

You look over at Marcus to catch his eye.  It’s not like him to be so blatant.

You find that he is listening intently to the server, both his hands holding his menu.

But how…

Confused, you glance at Dave, who is very much not listening, with both his hands under the table.

Oh

Oh…

Understanding dawns as the vibrator comes to life once again.  This time in a slow and building buzz that has you gripping the edge of the table fighting a moan.  It dies down once again, and you glance at Dave.

He winks and picks up his menu.

Just then, Carol squeaks and jumps in her seat.  You watch as she looks to her husband and finds him busy reading his menu, then over at yours, decidedly not.

You meet her wide-eyed gaze across the table and you both break into huge smiles.

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

You and Carol make your way down the hallway to the elevators on wobbly legs.  It probably looks like you’re drunk, but you hadn’t even finished the one glass of wine set before you at dinner.

You have no idea what you even ate.  Marcus ordered for you, so you’re sure it was something you liked, but it was hard to concentrate on the food when you were devoting all your energy on holding yourself together.

Dave was a menace.  He knew he was edging you.  Getting you closer and closer to your peak.  He and Marcus chatted about their day skiing and plans for tomorrow, directing questions at you and Carol only to be met with unfocused eyes and heavy breathing.

If you had any functioning braincells you would have been rolling your eyes and teasing them about their skiing antics.  Sure, they were both fit and active guys and looked better in snow pants than anyone had a right to, but they were not the skiing champions their stories made them out to be.

They were loving it.  Dave’s eyes glinted with mischief while Marcus twinkled like a Christmas tree.

When the server came to clear your practically untouched plate of food, Dave leaned over and whispered to you, “Just let go.  I know you need it.”

You whimpered in response.  You did need it.  So very badly.  But you were fighting because you knew you wouldn’t be able to keep quiet.  When you came, it was going to be loud.

Marcus steadies you as you step into the elevator.  He pulls you against him and you can feel his rock-hard erection against your stomach.  Apparently controlling the vibrator was just as arousing as wearing it.

“Are you ready?” he asks softly, running a finger down your cheek.

“Yeah, you?”  He nods and smiles.

“I love you,” he whispers, looking deep into your eyes.  He presses a gentle kiss to your lips, something you had all agreed would not happen with each other’s partners – a boundary you would not cross.

It may seem silly with all the things you are willing and eager to do with each other but kissing on the lips feels intimate in a way you can’t fully explain.

Dave and Carol are having a similar moment checking in with each other.  He presses a kiss to her lips then her forehead before looking over to Marcus and nodding.

The elevator dings and the doors open on your floor.  Marcus and Dave guide you both to the door to your suite and let you inside.

While you were out to dinner, a fire has been lit in the fireplace.  There’s also an ice bucket with champagne and a charcuterie board with cheese, fruit, and crackers.  Marcus and Dave must have known you wouldn’t be able to eat much and planned ahead.  Your heart clenches thinking about all the effort and planning they put into tonight.  You and Carol are two very lucky women.

The atmosphere in the room shifts as Marcus backs away from you and Dave takes his place.  He presses into you from behind and runs his hands down your bare arms.

His breath is hot on your neck as he rumbles in your ear, “Been thinking about this moment all year.”  You tremble against him.  “I didn’t get to taste you last year.  Fuck, I bet you taste good.”

You close your eyes and focus on breathing as he moves you across the room.  You’re surprised to find yourself at the floor to ceiling windows overlooking the slopes.  Tiny figures glide down the mountain under the lights.

You’d appear just as tiny to them, but just the thought of being seen sends a zing of heat through your body and you clench around the still vibrator.  If it came to life now, there’s no way you could fight your body’s response.

Dave turns you around and presses you against the cold glass.  Goosebumps break out across your heated skin.  Dave noses at your jaw, nibbles down your neck, and licks his way down your exposed sternum.

He lowers himself to his knees in front of you and looks up at you with burning eyes.  You nod and he gives you a wicked grin in return.

He runs his hands up your legs, pushing the hem of your dress up to your hips.  He swears as he uncovers your drenched panties, pausing to press his nose to your mound and inhale with a groan before pulling them down your legs.

“Need to get rid of this.”  He eases the vibrator out of your channel.  “I’m going to fill you so much better.” You feel empty and aching, but Dave doesn’t let you dwell on it.  He’s lifting one leg over his shoulder and licking into your pussy like a man starved before you can even register what’s happening.

You bury your hand in Dave’s hair to steady yourself as your head thunks against the window.  Your first orgasm isn’t far away, it’s been building since you slipped the vibrator inside you before dinner.  Dave grasps your hips with his large hands, holding you steady as your legs start to tremble.

Your orgasm crashes over you far too quickly.  You cry out loudly as the tension peaks in your body and you let go of all the control you’ve been holding on to all evening.

But Dave has yet to have his fill of you.  He continues to lick and suck as you shake and cry out drawing your orgasm out and then finally letting it subside.

He eases your leg off his shoulder and stands in front of you once again.  His eyes are completely black and locked on yours as he turns you around to face the window.  He catches your eyes in the reflection as he draws the zipper of your dress down and slides off your shoulders, leaving you naked.  He presses your hands against the glass, caging you in with his strong arms.

“You have a choice, sweetheart,” Dave rumbles in your ear, never breaking eye contact.  “I can fuck you against this window… let everyone out there see… or, I can turn you around so you can watch your husband fuck my wife while I take you apart.”

Both options have your pussy fluttering and clenching around nothing.  But even in your fuzzy, lust addled state, the choice is clear.

“I… I want… to see,” you manage to say shakily.  Dave chuckles behind you.

“I knew you liked to watch, just like me.”

You whimper with need as your eyes roll back in your head.  Dave turns you around once again and directs you to put your hands on the back of the couch.

You hear him unbuckle his belt and undress, but your attention has been captured by the scene now in front of you.

Marcus has Carol laid out on the couch completely naked, her back arches up as he feasts between her legs.  He’s taken off his shirt and you admire the long lines of his back as he expertly works her body.  His smooth, golden skin shifts over toned muscle.  Your husband is a beautiful man.

You watch as Carol breaks into a shaking orgasm.  Her cries ripple through your body, practically taking you with her.

“Beautiful, isn’t she?” Dave is behind you again.  The heat of his bare chest presses into your back as he speaks low in your ear.  You press your hips back into him, begging to be filled.  Your pussy throbs with need.

You step your feet apart, but he pushes them back together.

“I want that tight little pussy of yours even tighter.”

You moan and drop your head between your arms.

“Look at them,” Dave orders behind you.  You drag your head back up and watch as Marcus takes off his pants, freeing his cock.

His gaze locks with yours for a moment, slack jawed and eyes burning.  Dave notches at your entrance and slowly presses inside.  You watch Marcus watching you be filled and stretched by another man.  You swear brokenly as Dave splits you open, and Marcus takes a shuddering breath.

Carol begs needily from the couch below you.

“You feeling left out, babe?” Dave teases Carol from behind you.  “Don’t worry.  Marcus is going to take good care of you.”

Marcus snaps out of his trance and directs his gaze towards Carol.  “Fuck yes, I am,” he rasps as he positions himself between her legs.  Your heart pounds in your ears and your cunt as you watch Carol take your husband’s cock.

Fuck, it’s so hot.

Dave’s teeth scrape down your neck as he drags his cock slowly through your walls and inner thighs.  He feels even bigger like this, but it’s not enough.  “More,” you whimper, adrift with sensation.

“You want more, sweetheart?  You want to come on my cock?”

“Please… yes,” you beg as he reaches around your hips to circle your clit.

You fight to keep your eyes open as your orgasm begins to build.  It’s overwhelming – the sound of Marcus praising Carol and her increasingly frantic cries, the heat from the fireplace warming your already flushed skin, Dave working your body skillfully and relentlessly.

The coil in your abdomen snaps and you clamp down on Dave’s cock.  He swears and pulls you against his chest as you pulse around him.  His arms brace across your chest and hips as he pistons up into you chasing his own release.

You hear Carol break and the sound of it sends aftershocks through your body.  Dave’s rhythm falters and he comes with a shout.  He gradually stills behind you, his forehead resting against your upper back.

He holds you tight against him as your breath evens and your heart rate slows.  Carefully, you disentangle.  Dave eases you onto the couch next to an equally boneless Carol.  Marcus and Dave reappear with warm cloths and blankets.  Marcus cleans you up, wiping you gently, before gathering you into his arms and covering you both with the blanket.

The four of you snuggle into the couch and catch your collective breaths.  As your skin cools, you are thankful for the fire’s radiating warmth.  Your gaze drifts to the windows and the view of the snowy mountains beyond.  A deep sense of contentment washes over you as Marcus nuzzles into your neck.

“How about Italy next year?” he murmurs and you smile.  You can’t wait.

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

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[trekkietales]

Yes Commander

Spock smut

Warning: smut with a smidge of plot, spanking, dom spock, female body.

Spock did have emotions. I saw him express them a few times. Though he had fantastic control over them. Just not when it came to me.

It started with a man at a bar. We finally got shore leave and Bones, Jim, Spock, and I decided we needed a drink. We all separate for different reasons. Jim was flirting, Bones wanted some kind of damn peace (his words), and Spock was getting drinks for himself and I. So here I was at a table, alone when some guy comes up and flirts with me.

I had no clue what to do. I was never good with people flirting with me. Before I could get Spocks attention, Chekov came up behind me. He grabbed my hand and pulled me into him.

“Baby, is this man bothering you?”

“Yes, he is.” Before anything could happen the man ran off. Me and Chekov looked at each other and burst out laughing. By the time we got back onto the ship everyone knew what had happened.

Each time we passed each other we would sneak in a ‘baby’ or ‘dear’ and completely lose it each time. Sulu even got in on the joke and would say we look cute together. As the day went on everyone slowly forgot about it and when I was done with my shift I just about ran to my quarters. I walked in to see Spock. I smiled and he returned an eyebrow raise.

“I do believe that Chekov is down the hall.”

“Why would I want to be with him?”

"you two have gotten extremely close lately.'' It suddenly got super clear. Spock was jealous.

"Awe, is someone jealous?"

"Absolutely not. Jealousy is a human emotion, as a Vulcan I have suppressed all my emotions."

I knew Spock was upset. I also knew what to do to make him feel better. I grabbed his hand and led him to the couch and made him sit down. I then ran to the bedroom to change. I came back out in beautiful black lace and I knew I had him when he gulped.

I kneeled in between his legs and grabbed his hand. I put it on my face so he could read my mind. I went through every reason i love him. He pulled away and looked at me.

“I see how much you love me, wife. I just don’t understand the change in clothes if you were going to have us mind meld.” I laughed and started to unbutton his pants.

“Because, husband, I am not done showing you how much I love and appreciate you.” I pulled out his lok and licked a stripe from the base to the green tip.

No matter how many times I give him a blowjob, he never seems to get used to it. Blowjobs aren’t exactly normal on Vulcan. It’s actually considered almost gross on the alien planet.

Looking up at him through my eye lashes, I could see his restraint was about to snap. He was close. I quickened my pace to push him over the edge when he stopped me. I pulled back confused and worried I had done something wrong.

“You haven’t done anything wrong, I just don’t wanna waste my seed by spilling it into your mouth.” My cheeks heated up. I hadn’t meant for him to lose control. He seemed to gauge my expression and calmed me.

“I am in full control, I just know what I want.” He was so hot like this. I nodded and replied with something i knew was wrong.

“Yes, Spock.” His eyebrow raised. The small moment of humor left when I saw his eyes.

“You know what you call me when we are together.” I had two options. Say what I knew would get me out of trouble or be a little mischievous. I smiled and opened my mouth.

“Of course I know Spock.” I could see his eyes darken. He pulled me in for a human kiss and then pulled me down onto the bed with him. I thought I might have gotten away with it.

“You are wrong, you are getting punished. 20 spanks so you remember my name and you will count or I will restart.” He pulled down my pants and underwear.

Wack

“One.”

Wack

“Two”

Wack

“Three” while I might be weak my ass already started hurting. He noticed my eyes watering.

“Color?” He was worried he had accidentally been to hard.

“Green.” He continued after he rubbed his hand over my ass.

Wack

“Four”

Wack wack wack

“Five, six, seven!” I almost screamed it out.

Wack wack

“Eight, nine.”

Wack

“Ten.” He had smoothed his hand over my ass again. He knew i needed a break. Spock was very much dominant over me, but no matter how hard I pushed him, he always cares about me and never hurts me.

Wack wack wack

“Eleven, twelve, thirteen” Tears were streaming down my face now. Spock knew I didn’t wanna stop but I could feel his hesitation.

“Is that all you got,Spock?” His eyebrow raised again.

“Am I gonna have to break you to stop you from being a brat?”

Wack wack

“Fourteen, fifteen.” He paused and pulled my face up to look at him.

“What is my name?”

“Commander.” He had a satisfied look on his face.

“Good girl.”

Wack wack wack wack wack!

“Sixteen, seventeen,eighteen, nineteen, twenty!”

Spock immediately stopped and started to rub my ass again. This time he was super soft with me. After he knew my ass wouldn’t hurt when I sat on it he flipped me up and had me sit on his lap.

“I didn’t hurt you too much did I?”

“Absolutely not.” He leaned in and gave me a kiss. I deepened it and flipped us over with him on top. I felt his hands explore my body. The electric feeling of his hands on my skin making me feel so good. I took off his clothes and he slid into me.

He took his time in slowly rolling his hips into mine. Bits of Vulcan came out his lips. All translating to “i love you” “my mate” and “my love”. I was almost lost in my own world when he had started kissing my neck. I giggled when I felt his teeth graze my skin. Then he bit down. I looked at him almost alarmed. We had had sex before and he never done that.

“Now people will look at you and know you are taken.” It clicked. He marked me.

“What was that for?”

“So that everyone knows your mine. Keep your collar down.”

“Yes commander” i rolled my eyes.

Captain’s log

Hope y’all liked it. Remember if there is anything you guys wanna see or want me to write suggestions are always open.

[measuringbliss]

Spider-Man Read-Through 036: Thanos - The Final Threat (AV Ann 7, MTIO Ann 2)

MASTERPOST

As promised last time, Thanos is here, ready to smash some heroes!

And the Avengers are ready to smash him back!

This batch thoroughly impressed me, I must say.

Adam Warlock is here, and he's determined to fight Thanos, the Mad Titan. He asks the Avengers to help.

He explains that Thanos fell in love with Death and killed a lot of people, including his own mother, which is how you know he's the real deal.

Suddenly, Spider-Man!

There you go.

Back to our regular scheduling!

Thanos has been vanquished before, but he's back, and pissed off since Death abandoned him. So he got all 6 cosmic stones and fused them into a giant one.

Oh wow, we're really speedrunning Infinity War, huh!

Thanos plans to get Death back by destroying every star in the universe, which is completely batshit but also, I kind of love it. Love truly knows no bounds.

While Warlock is catching up everybody on who did what, Pip the Troll (don't ask me who that is) arrives on Sanctuary II and is surprised by Thanos.

Our heroes depart, and each one of them has a moment to collect their thoughts and fears, and it's remarkably well-written.

I didn't expect to actually be invested, but it reminds of the last issue of the Dark Phoenix saga in how grandiose it feels.

Suddenly...!

It's really impressive, actually.

Thor and Iron Man are deployed, and IM surmises that he can take care of the smaller ships, given how powerful Thor is...

And he would be right. How cool!

This is also really cool!

And this immediately what follows. The action sequence is really good, each Avenger has time to shine and it's overall well paced.

Unfortunately for Warlock, it turns out Thanos left his cherished Pip dead just for him to find on the vessel.

Warlock and Mar-Vell go to Thanos's ship first, they're quickly beaten, but then...

Damn, it's really a good issue.

Iron Man shatters the big gem. Thanos is quite enraged and disappears.

I was asking myself the same question, but you know what, the middle panel is incredibly raw and I don't need justification for that.

What I figure is that it's some sort of reincarnation thing à la Dax from DS9.

The dead hero awakens in the Soul Gem, with Gamora and Pip! Aww.

This is such a nice ending, I really love it! I'm sorry for all the pics, but it really was a stellar issue.

In the following issue, Peter is called in his dreams by Avenger Moon-Dragon, who makes him watch Infinity War and Endgame in 4K Ultra HD before DVDs even existed.

Except the happy end isn't quite there yet.

I gladly objectify the waking man. Well, he's already an object, but I'm looking respectfully.

In space, some stars discuss how it's totally fate that Peter and Ben Grimm aka The Thing fight together to save the universe. Huh-huh.

Spidey decides that he's going to need help, and naturally comes to the Fantastic Four. There, he finds Ben who just so happens to have a space shuttle ready for take off. And off they go!

I like how depressed Peter is. We rarely see him so quiet. It helps to convey the gravity of the situation.

The two heroes aren't doing too bad, but they eventually get knocked out.

Ooooooooh! Oh :( Wasn't it enough to give him peace?

Good for you, Spidey.

However, he changes his minds and successfully frees the Avengers, which I like because it's more of a Spidey thing. I couldn't see him quite fighting Thanos head-on.

Ah, I see again some of the brilliance of the previous issue.

Spidey successfully frees Adam Warlock from the globe that contained him, and the latter hero quickly annihilates Thanos. His crew surrenders immediately.

Aww.

Damn was that a great double issue. I largely preferred the first one, but the second one was fun too, wow.

[cherry-valentine]

Spring 2023 Anime Season

Here’s what I’m watching!

Dr. Stone Season 3 was probably the series I was most looking forward to. The basic setup is this: a mysterious green light spreads over the entire world, turning all human beings into stone. Thousands of years later, teenage genius Senku awakens from his stone prison and decides to save all of humanity, bringing them back to the modern scientific age in the process. Unlike most popular shounen series, the focus of the story is notably not on fighting, action, training, chasing a dream, or even “the power of friendship”. It’s very much centered on Senku and his allies rebuilding society, recreating important scientific inventions, exploring, etc. There is some action, even some fighting, but the long stretches without either manage to be entertaining and, at times, thrilling all the same. The show also makes a point of telling us that physical fighting ability is definitely not the only thing that determines how strong or useful a character is. Senku himself is physically rather weak, especially when compared to the characters who can fight. But he’s super intelligent. There are characters who are good at lots of various things and are considered strong and important even if they wouldn’t stand a chance in a fight. I feel like this sets the series apart from other anime that focus so strongly on power levels and such. This season’s plot focuses on the characters exploring an island with a different village of people living on it, ones who might hold the secret of the petrification beam that swept over the earth thousands of years ago. The animation is great. The male character designs are great. The female character designs… not so great. I’m just not crazy about how the mangaka draws women. They all have enormous eyes that are drawn way too far apart. It’s a strange visual. But that’s a minor complaint. The music is fantastic, with my favorite ending theme of the season. If you haven’t tried Dr. Stone yet, you owe it to yourself to fix that mistake.

Hell’s Paradise is a series I was very excited to try. I’ve had the first few volumes of the manga on my Amazon wishlist for like two years now but never went ahead and bought them. The story is about a mysterious island that’s said to hold the elixir of immortality, but no one has come back from it alive. A group of dangerous death row prisoners are offered pardons if they can go to the island, find the elixir, and return with it. They’re accompanied by members of a clan full of government executioners who are highly skilled with the sword. The main character is Gabimaru, a notorious ninja assassin who was betrayed by his village and just wants to make it home to his beloved wife. This simple desire to be with the woman he loves makes Gabimaru easy to root for. The secondary protagonist is Sagiri, the executioner assigned to Gabimaru, and she’s where my main problem with the series is most clear. In the first episode, Sagiri is a stoic, badass swordswoman who is unfazed by Gabimaru’s seeming immorality and is so skilled that he’s legitimately afraid of her. She was quickly shaping up to be one of my favorite characters of the season. But then episode two comes along, and suddenly Sagiri is weepy and frightened and being derided as weak by her peers. We also get several of these shots that are supposed to represent her fear but are just images of her naked body being clawed and groped. I’ve never seen a character get nerfed so fast. Episode three restores my faith in her. Episode four has her being weak again. And so on. It’s a bizarre roller coaster that creates a very uneven experience for viewers who were excited to have a badass heroine. There are other female characters, though most of them are also used for fanservice. As it currently stands, Sagiri is back to being badass, so who knows how this will turn out? Aside from that issue, the show is pretty good. The animation and design work are gorgeous. The opening theme is easily the best of the season. The creature/monster designs are unique and interesting. It’s definitely worth watching, but I still wish Sagiri’s character had been a bit more consistent.

Kimetsu no Yaiba Season 3 is, as I understand it, the second movie broken up into tv episodes the way the Mugen Train movie was done last season. I haven’t watched this movie so this is all new content for me. As usual for this series, the production values are sky high, with breathtaking animation and incredible music. I’ve said it many times before, but Kimetsu no Yaiba’s strength really is in its gorgeous presentation. The story isn’t bad by any means but it is fairly standard shounen fighting anime fare. But it’s not just the animation and music that elevate the show. The design work, for the characters as well as the various demons and weapons and settings, is fantastic. The fight choreography is top notch. It’s all the little details, it’s the voice acting, it’s the beautiful colors, it’s everything coming together to make this series so damn watchable. To explain what I mean, the first episode of this season was a double length episode, but I watched it and had no idea until I later skimmed the comments. It was double length and it still felt short. That’s how you know something is highly entertaining. High on my watch list.

My Home Hero is a compelling cat and mouse game. It follows Tetsuo, a seemingly average middle aged father who finds out his daughter is dating an abusive yakuza thug and decides to take matters into his own hands. He ends up killing the boyfriend, and the rest of the series is about his attempts to keep this fact hidden from both his daughter and the dangerous yakuza family that is searching for answers. What follows is a tense, thrilling roller coaster. Tetsuo is a kind and caring father who looks like an unassuming salaryman, but he has a ruthless, cunning side to him that comes out when he needs to protect his family. He’s physically weak but incredibly intelligent and armed with a lifetime of reading mystery books. His only true ally is his wife Kasen, who is just an absolute delight. She never questions Tetsuo’s motives and doesn’t even bat an eye when he tells her he killed someone to protect their daughter. She just rolls up her sleeves and gets to work on helping him dispose of the body. She proves to be a strong asset, as her creativity and fearless nature get them out of trouble several times. The way the couple works together as a team is honestly very heartwarming. Even if they’re working to cover up a murder. The show has one major flaw, however, and that’s the animation. While it’s definitely not the worst I’ve seen, it’s certainly not good. I’m assuming it had a low budget. But it says a lot about the quality of the writing that this is one of my favorite shows this season despite the subpar visuals. Highly recommended.

Skip to Loafer is a sweet and gentle palette cleanser after all the intense shows I’m watching throughout the week. It’s a high school slice of life series about a country girl named Mitsumi moving to Tokyo to go to a better school and meet new friends. Mitsumi is well meaning, smart, and ambitious, but she’s also easily distracted and a bit clumsy (not in the usual cutesy way, but in the accidentally puking on her teacher on the first day of school way). Her life could be summed up as one of those “expectation vs reality” memes, but a big part of her character arc is understanding that things not going according to plan is not necessarily a bad thing. The supporting cast is made up of interesting characters that manage to be unique without being exaggerated caricatures. Most important (narratively) among them is Shima, a handsome and popular young man who seems aloof and carefree, but of course there’s more to him than that. His relationship with Mitsumi is one of the main plot points of the series. It’s also worth noting that Mitsumi lives with her aunt Nao, who is a trans woman. From what I’ve read/heard, Nao has been well received and counts as positive representation. She’s a funny, cute, engaging character who is never reduced to a stereotype. The show overall has a calm, soothing feel to it, with pastel colors and peppy music. Recommended.

Best of Season:

Best New Series: My Home Hero

Best Opening Theme: Hell’s Paradise

Best Ending Theme: Dr. Stone

Best New Male Character: Tetsuo (My Home Hero)

Best New Female Character: Mitsumi (Skip to Loafer)