#to deserve his backing like yeah. i was a better producer than one of his wunderkind lol.

[munamania]

yeah ok so this girl from my school is going to the fucking oscars. and presenting. like ok!

[amirasainz]

But what was their reaction when they first watched euphoria? Like what was sweet Amelia saying? Doing? Good lord. The absolute hatred they would express for Jacob elordi, like “let’s kill him” was said from someone in the room but no one will confess to it.

WOHO! George Russell, the man that you are! I hope you guys enjoy reading this and send me some request!

-XoXo

No Part 2!!!

Mount Everest ain't got shit on me

At first, everything was great. The drivers and WAGs were all thrilled for Amira when she announced her new role in a series called Euphoria. No one thought it was strange that she wouldn’t discuss the plot or her character. The only thing she ever said was, “Maddy is a badass. A real G.” So you can imagine their reactions when the first episode aired.

The drivers, the WAGs, and Roscoe were all gathered in Lewis’s room, scattered around as they waited for the episode to start. Lily and Carmen were excitedly gossiping about the other actors in the series. “Amira told me that Maddy is with Nate, who is played by Jacob Elordi. Guess what? Jacob and Zendaya used to date,” whispered Carmen, eliciting a huge gasp from the other women. Lily’s reaction caused Kika, Lily Z., and Rebecca to crowd around them, all sharing the latest celebrity and paddock gossip. “Is it true that Carlos is going to be the next safety car driver?” asked Lily Z. innocently. Rebecca looked at her confused, while the other three tried to hide their laughter.

Before Rebecca could defend her boyfriend, the opening scene of Euphoria started. And boy, was it an episode. When Amira said that Maddy was a ‘badass,’ they didn’t realize that Maddy Perez was a barely clothed, hot-looking goddess who didn’t shy away from using vulgar language. While the others were impressed by Amira’s acting, Carlos was speechless.

Why didn’t they give her more clothes to wear? And whose idea was the pool scene? Why did Amira’s character have such a bad boyfriend? Is this even allowed? Could he sue the producers? These thoughts were running through poor Carlos’s head. Meanwhile, the others enjoyed watching Amira on screen. Well, they enjoyed almost everything. After the first few Nate scenes, it was clear they didn’t like him.

“I just don’t understand it,” muttered Oscar, hugging a pillow close to himself. Charles, who sat next to him, agreed wholeheartedly. “Yeah, why would Maddy be with him? She deserves much better than this idiot.” “I mean, if I were part of this show, I would treat her like a queen. I would get her flowers every day and walk her home. On rainy days, we would cuddle up, watching one of her favorite movies. And then after date nights, I would take her to bed, kiss her, and we would have a night filled with passion and love…” Pierre said dreamily, a love-sick smile on his face. Kika, sitting on his right, just looked at him with a straight face, saying dryly, “Thanks. Thanks a lot, babe.”

The drivers and WAGs were so engrossed in watching that they didn’t notice Lando taking pictures of Amira every time she was on screen. When he lowered his camera again, he found himself looking straight into George’s eyes. “I—” he couldn’t even defend himself. George just looked him up and down, raising an eyebrow before turning his attention back to the screen and rolling his eyes. Never in his life had Lando felt so humiliated. It was a look that said, “Watch me and my girlfriend become a happy throuple with the girl you’re in love with. You stand no chance against us, Lando Norizz.”

After the end of the first episode, there was silence for a moment. "We should kill Nate" said someone (cough, Alex, cough). For a moment, they all thought the idea over. "I mean, it's just a TV series" tried Rebecca. "Yeah, but if Nate doesn't exist anymore, he can't be mean to Maddy, alias our Amira" stated Carmen, almost sounding bored to even have to explain. "Perhaps, we don't have to kill anyone. But if he wouldn't be found anymore" tried Oscar. Before anyone could say anything else, Charles proclaimed: "I know a guy for situations like this. He can help us. He won't ask any questions and will get the job done. Nice and clean." They all looked at Charles. "What the fuck" beeing the only thing said.

Safe to say, even though they loved seeing Amira on screen (not Carlos, he didn’t like the TV show), they hated Nate. And Checo? He thought because Maddy’s last name is Perez, he and Amira are now related, making him smile like the sun. Whatever helps him sleep at night, I guess.

[sturniyolos]

[song]Producer!Matt SFW + NSFW headcannons. 🎀

SFW 💍

- prod!matt who would use your laugh as his producer tag.

“Baby, stop!” You say giggling as Matt tries to tackle you down.

“Let me kiss you.” Matt states, pinning you down. He had accidently left his phone recording to send snippets to his artist, before you came in. Then, the pure sensation of your laugh made a lightbulb go off in Matt’s mind— and that’s how he wanted everyone to know it was his song; by your laugh.

- prod!matt who would let you have little snippets of his new songs, asked for your opinions, and even gave him some feedback.

“What about this one?” Matt asks, playing ‘NC-17’ by Travis Scott ft 21 Savage. You started to listen to it, the song already becoming your favorite. But, you started to make faces that Matt became self-conscious about.

“Ah shit, you don’t like it?” He asks, pausing the music right away.

“Noooo, I love it. I just— there’s something off about it.” You say, trying to grasp what you can do to change it.

“Have any suggestions?” Matt asks, holding your hand as you swing side by side in the chair.

“H-how about you have the hidden vocals a little bit higher where the autotune is? I feel like that would do the job.” You state, looking at Matt with doe eyes.

He does exactly what you say and you both listen back to it. It sounds even better than what was put originally.

“You’re such a smart girl, sweetheart.” He says, grabbing your hand and kissing it.

- prod!matt who lets you sit there and watch while his artists record lines.

“Maybe have a higher pitch on that one part, yeah? And then we’ll see which ones we like better.” Matt states, letting go of the button so the person in the booth can’t hear him anymore. Matt looks back at you, sitting on the couch with your IPad coloring.

“You okay?” He asks, walking over. He puts his pointer finger on your chin so you can look up at him.

“Mhm.” You hum.

He kisses your head and makes his way over his chair again. He knew he worked better when you were just there to keep him company.

- prod!matt who let you play around with the buttons that was for the recording booth.

“And what does this do?” You ask, curious.

“That makes your pitch go high or low, I usually use the low pitch at the end of songs.” He explains.

“And this one?” You point to the yellow button that can go up and down.

“This one’s your favorite— autotune.” He says, looking at you.

“Go in there! I wanna test it out.” You state, getting all excited.

He rolls his eyes but still makes his way into the booth. You guys spent your whole day fucking around with the autotune settings, singing awfully on his machine.

NSFW 💐

- prod!matt who would use your moans secretly in the back of songs.

“M-Matt, please.” You say as quiet as you’ve ever been. He was pounding you from the back as you both stood infront of the booth.

“Yeah? What do you want, hm? Be louder.” He says, pulling out his phone to record you. You make eye contact with his phone, but nothing comes out but moans. He smiles as you let out two specific moans and gave him the idea to use it in a song. [think P power by Gunna]

A couple days later, Matt releases the song— you listen to it, hearing specific moans being played in the song.

“Mattttt.” You walk into the studio, with the song pulled up on your phone.

“You like hearing your moans? Because I do.” He asks, looking down at you.

“You could’ve picked prettier moans.” You say, all sad.

“Just say you want me to fuck you again.”

- prod!matt who eats you out as a reward to staying in the booth all day long.

Your hands grip Matt’s curls. Legs spread open, your whole bottom half exposed. He looks up at you and smirks, knowing he’s got you.

“You’re so good for me baby, look at you.” He said, rubbing your clit.

“B-baby, I’m gonna c-oh my God.” You say throwing your head back.

“Do it. Cum on my face baby. You waited so long for me, you deserve it my love.” He states, putting his whole face into your heat.

His words are what did it for you as you finish, panting and breathless.

“My pretty girl, let me clean you up.” He states, moving his knees to the couch to kiss you.

- prod!matt who punishes you for being too impatient on waiting for him.

“F-fuck! I’m s-sorry.” You state, trying to pull Matt off of you as you couldn’t take him anymore. You were on your 3rd orgasm of the night— you were overstimulated, sweating, and drooling everywhere.

“Oh, now you wanna be sorry? Ion think you learned your lesson.” He says condescendingly, kissing the arch where your back curves in. Then, slapping you ass so hard it’ll for sure leave a mark tomorrow.

“Wanna act like a brat and whine every second? I’ll fuck you like a brat.” He says, pulling your hair back as you reach your 4th orgasm.

- prod!matt who gets constantly teased when you’re not with him at the studio.

You

*Attatchment: 1 image*

I’m waiting for you babyyyyy.

Matt

Bro I’m still here and you got me hard as fuck

You

Aw, that’s too baddd

Matt

So, you really tryna lose your ability to walk tonight?

You

Actions speak louder than words

Matt

I’ll be home in 10, be ready for me

You

Drive safe <3

*Attachment: 3 images*

- prod!matt who lets you cockwarm him while he’s making his music.

You’ve been on Matt’s dick for 20 minutes at this point, begging for a release. Matt would be lying if he said he wasn’t begging either.

You told him you’d behave if you got to sit on his length, but your wetness dripping down your lower thighs to his wasn’t helping.

“I know you wanna ride baby.” He states, whispering in your ear.

“I p-promised I’d be good.” You said sighing in defeat.

“You’ve shown me you’re a good girl. Now go— show me how bad you’ve been cravin’ this shit.” He says, choking you from behind.

You start to bounce on his cock, moans filling up the room quickly.

“Fuck— you’re g’na make me cum already.” He says, holding your hips to guide you up and down his member.

“Where do you want me to cum, mama?” He asks.

“I-in me. Don’t pull out, please. I want e-every drop.” You say, whining.

“Such a dirty girl.” He whispers in your ear, giving you one hard thrust that makes him fill you up, and what makes you squirt all over his bottom half.

- prod!matt who lets you give him head when he’s stressed.

You get on your knees and look up at hm.

“C’mon baby, I gotta finish this song by tonight. Trilly gon’ whoop my ass if I don’t-” He says, cupping your face with his big hand.

“Let me just help you relieve some stress, I promise I’ll be quick.” You say, cutting him off and smiling up at him.

He lets you take control as you unbutton his pants, seeing the print of his member in his underwear. You kiss the outline of the tip, making Matt hiss.

You take the underwear off of him and immediately get to work. You take the base of his cock and start sucking on the tip.

He moans as a response, creating a makeshift ponytail so he can see your pretty face.

“Can I fuck your face, please?” He asks, becoming submissive.

You nod, letting him hover over the chair and fuck your face until you start crying.

“F-fuck yes.”

“Y-you take me so well.”

You make him sit back down, and shoving his whole dick down your throat.

“Mmmmm, c-cumming— fucking sh-.” He exclaims, letting loose and having his whole warm load in your mouth. You show him your tongue filled with his kids, swallowing it, and showing him your mouth empty.

“You make me so crazy.” He grabs your throat and kisses you.

——————————————————————————

I saw someone on here saying they wanted a prod!matt fanfics but I forgot their user :-( . Hopefully they find this lol.

[wlntrsldler]

If the boys played “never have I ever” in an interview, what would be revealed to the public?

I SPRINTED TO MY COMPUTER

here's the transcript of poisoned mercury's buzzfeed interview where they played never have i ever as part of their press tour to promote their new album:

interviewer: thank you guys for coming!

luke *smiling while he fixes his mic*: thanks for having us :) we were just talking about how we used to do buzzfeed quizzes when we were younger.

travis: there were many days where we'd be in luke's house back in connecticut and completely forget that we were supposed to be rehearsing because we got caught up trying to figure out which inside out emotion we were.

interviewer: well, i'm glad to hear it because today we're gonna play a game of 'never have i ever.'

chris: unrelated but i fucking love that show. team paxton for life.

luke: dude no. ben is clearly the right choice.

connor: ok mr. enemies to lovers, of course you'd say that.

luke: shut up???!

travis: i think if we took the inside out quiz again right now, i'd get disgust because that's how i feel being in a band with two idiots who are so in love with their girlfriends.

connor: swear to god if i hear another "no you hang up first," from either one of you *looks at chris and luke* i'm blowing my brains out.

interviewer looks around the room, trying to ask the producers what she should do. the video editors are already stressing because they know they have to bleep out a lot of the words the boys are using.

interviewer: .... so let's start with the first question. never have i ever gone skinny dipping.

chris: fuck, how did you get all of us on the first question?

connor: yeah we've gone skinny dipping a few times, but the most recent was last summer. mama c-- shoutout mama c, we love you!

luke: yeah, we love you mama!

connor: she put all of us on timeout and we spent the entire summer at a music camp and on our last night, we all went skinny dipping at the lake with our roommates.

luke: oh shit, i forgot about that. those were good times. *looks at chris* i miss camp bro.

chris: me too.

travis *stares deadpan into the camera*: do you see what we have to deal with?

interviewer: never have i ever had a crush on a friend's sibling.

travis: guilty.

chris *turns his head so fast*: given that you're related to connor and luke is an only child, you better be talking about a non-band friend.

travis *shrugging*: your older sister is hot, rodriguez.

chris: stay away from my sister.

luke *looks at the interviewer with wide eyes*: next question or you'll have a video to submit to worldstar.

interviewer: oh! uh, okay-- never have i ever accidentally posted something to my main account instead of my private or close friends one.

connor *cracking up*: castellan, wanna take this one?

luke *blushing*: this feels like a targeted question because we know the infamous video of me with the handsome squidward filter on (the hozier incident) that was supposed to go on my close friends story! i was so embarrassed. to be clear, i was JOKING. i don't actually flirt like that.

travis: i've seen you flirt with y/n, and you in the squidward video had more game than you normally do.

luke *teasing because he knows travis does not want a relationship*: and yet who's single between the two of us?

connor: oh he got you there.

travis: y/n, if you're watching this, you deserve better. he's a loser. i have better friends i can set you up with.

luke: five star, if you're watching this, you're stuck with me. there's no going back.

interviewer: never have i ever had a song written about me.

chris: this is a great pivot to promote our sophomore album's lead single, "kiss her you fool!" we wrote this song about our front man, luke, here. our second album "optimism don't come easy (unless it's with you)" is out now.

interviewer: i love that shameless self-promo.

connor: i think we as a band can benefit from having some shame, but thank you.

chris *turns to luke*: this will also come as a shock to you, but there's another song out in the world that's kinda about you.

luke: huh? which one?

travis: quinnie, remember her? she was in cabin 7. she wrote the bulk of it, but y/n actually gave her the idea. chris and connor helped her with instrumentals and the song is sick.

connor: it was amazing. quinnie is so talented. if you guys haven't heard her music, i highly, highly recommend it. the song we're talking about is called touch tank. you guys should check it out.

chris: agreed. she's also just a fucking cool person. she's one of our closest friends in the industry.

travis *making a heart with his hands*: we love you, quinnie!

interviewer: okay, final question since we're running out of time. never have i ever gone on a world tour for my band's second album.

luke *laughs*: i see what you did there. that was good.

connor: we are soooooo excited to announce that we're going back on tour! this summer, we'll be seeing all your beautiful faces again. tickets go on sale this friday! we hope to see you there!

luke: check out our band's twitter for more information on how to get tickets and to see if we'll be coming to a city near you.

chris: we miss seeing you guys!

travis: see you guys so soon! we love you!

interviewer: that's all the time we have for today. thank you guys so much. it was a pleasure!

[star-suh]

Crazy Form

Choi San & Jung Wooyoung x Male Reader

cw: sub top reader, power bottoms san and wooyoung, established relationship, bareback, face sitting, face riding, rimjob, blowjob, taking turns while riding, edging, cum eating, degradation, praising, some possessiveness, pet names.

—

MAMA awards 2023, yn a soloist just did his performance, everyone was cheering and murmuring how hot he was on the stage even the idols were clapping and screaming seeing his face on the big screens. but two of them were cheering way louder than the rest, san and wooyoung. the trio maintained a secret relationship, they met years back in a variety show and their relationship quickly escalated into a lovers one.

seeing their boyfriend all sweaty and showing some cleavage make them horny as fuck but they have to hide it because they were the next ones in performing.

yn saw ateez’ performance in backstage in the screen, he was stunned watching san shirtless, how the beads of sweat rolled down his chest and abs and how wooyoung looked as pretty as always, “fuck i'm horny” yn whispered looking at the scream dumbfounded then he touched his bulge.

the award show is over and all idols can go home now. “where's san?” hongjoong asked looking around “and wooyoung” he added. “they say they were going to take some drinks with yn” seonghwa tapped the leader's back “don't worry about them” he said jumping inside the van followed by hongjoong.

meanwhile in the nearest hotel yn was being used by his two boyfriends, one was sucking his dick while the other was sitting on his face and riding it “you were so hot in that stage ynnie” wooyoung said while gagging on his dick, “yeah we became a bit jealous because everyone was seeing you with that exposed cleavage” san added “you didn't have to act like a whore to get everyone's attention you know?”.

“yes, maybe we should mark that cleavage so everyone know you're taken” wooyoung caressed his collarbones while accommodating his entrance on top of yn's tip and sitting on it, “you fill me up so well” wooyoung caresses his lower tummy. san stood up and yn took the opportunity to breathe, his face was red and the surroundings of his mouth were covered with a lot of saliva.  san turns around inserting his dick on his mouth, “fuck as tight as always”. san basically face fucked yn and wooyoung sat hard on that dick loving the wet sounds produced by his wet hole.

“you're being such a good toy for us” wooyoung stop riding and instead move his hips massaging the dick with his insides, this caused yn to moan with san's dick on his mouth, the vibrations makig him cum right at the spot, his seed going down yn's throat “fuckkk, what a good boy” san pats the other's head. when wooyoung felt yn twitching inside him he stopped his movements. yn whimpers “why did you stop?”; “sorry baby but slutty boys deserve some punishment” woo blurted out.

“please it was just my cleavage, i didn't show my body like sannie did”; “and you better don't, this body is only for us to see” san interrupted.

both guys were kissing, sucking and licking yn's dick, they put it in between their mouths and started to do wonders with it. “i feel like i'm gonna melt” yn whimpers and moans, his boyfriends really know how to rile him up. when one mouth goes up the other mouth goes down, slurping and coating in saliva the top's shaft.

wooyoung spat on yn's tip and guided it towards san's hole, he sat slowly, swallowing every inch with his warm hole. “so tight … hngh ..” yn whimpered. san moved his hips slowly, he knows how to drive yn crazy and use it to his advantage, “fuck you open me up so well baby” he commented.

some time later yn was already a whimpering mess, san has been edging him since he started riding, everytime he feels yn's dick twitching inside him he pulls out yn's dick and leave it there for some seconds until he resumes the riding again.

yn's pleas filled the air, “please i want to cum”; “baby let me cum”: “i won't show my body again, sannie…”  but the duo just ignored it. getting tired of this wooyoung sat on his face, muffling the sounds coming out of his mouth with his ass “you look so cute with an ass in your mouth” woo winked at him. everytime san goes up, wooyoung pulls out the dick and licks it, introducing it again to the other's ass, repeating the process more times.

san and woo took times to ride and edge yn, the latter was being fucked dumb at this point, his pleas turned into random sounds mixed with whimpers and moans. “oh~ fuck… s-shitt~”; “i can-can't any…. hngh… anymore”; “pleaseee~” he blurted out. “just wait some minutes babe” wooyoung said riding a bit more until he came, his warm seed landing on yn's torso while he let out a loud grunt, the veins in his arms being more visible because of the force he was doing to not clench that hard while cumming. “clean it please” he stands up and put his tip on yn's mouth who licks it clean.

san now was using that meat to milk himself dry, he was more harsh than wooyoung. while looking for positions to fuck himself on the top's dick, yn's tip touched his sweet spot making him moan loudly so he kept fucking himself in that position until he came hands free, his cumshots reaching yn and woo's faces while they were kissing.

finally the duo of power bottoms started to stroke yn's shaft. with just a couple of sloppy strokes he came, feeling relieve of being able to do it after all this time while his warm milk painted the bottoms’ faces. “you did so well ynnie” wooyoung caressed his cheek, “i'm proud of you” san added. they then give each other kisses, that were coated with cum, like the happy relationship they are.

[weskie]

A New Dawn (Albert Wesker x gn!Reader)

descriptions of injuries, descriptions of violence, tentacle murder, tentacle affection, yeah that's a thing, shared shower, wesker lives au | Fic Directory

You found him by sheer luck.

That rock he’d crawled onto could’ve simply crumbled.  The volatile lava could’ve risen higher and submerged him completely.  Despite the odds being stacked so incredibly high against any hope of recovering Wesker, you managed to pull his legs from the impossibly hot liquid with the help of a small rescue team and loaded his charred body into a helicopter for what was arguably the worst moment of your life.

All you can do is stare at what he’s become– at the autonomous slithering of tentacles that, by some miracle, contained themselves to their host and did not spread to your shaking hands.  His lower body is marred entirely with burns and blisters so severe that you’re unsure if taking him out of there was even humane.  If, perhaps, letting him be swallowed by the earth would’ve been kinder than putting him through whatever is to come next.

Once he’s placed in a containment room, you call in every favor you’ve ever known him to be owed.  But it’s all for nothing.

The first attempt to prick his skin with an IV catheter results in bloodshed.  The entire team of medics stood stock still as the head doctor was impaled and dangled overhead by a mass of black, oozing tentacles emerging from Wesker’s body.  It happened so fast that you only realized it once the blood hit the observation glass.

Such would be the result of any attempts to address his injuries.  Not even a blanket was able to be laid over his bare form without retaliation. It was like the mass of tendrils had a mind of their own, geared only toward protecting their host– though it raises the question of why the initial recovery of his body hadn’t produced the same response.  Regardless, you wager they’re the only reason that Wesker is still alive.

For that, you’re thankful.

You talk to him through the intercom regularly.  You tell him about the BSAA’s seizure of Tricell and its assets, of how you’ve turned one of his hidden facilities into something livable for when he wakes.  That you’ll be there when he does, and how excited you are for the day.  That you hope he can hear you but feel none of the pain.

You pray he doesn’t.

At the end of the first week, you come to the realization that the tendrils are slowly engulfing his body.  Every day, more seem to appear until his legs are cocooned.

You take notes and photos of everything as best as you can, just as you know he’d want you to.  After all, this is his creation in action. The seed for his perfect world that was now seemingly consuming yours whole.

By the fourth week, they’ve risen as high as his clavicle. 

By the fifth, you feel as if you’re losing your sanity.  Alone in a massive underground facility, having not seen the sun for weeks on end, eating only MREs and having what little sleep you get plagued by stress and worst case scenario nightmares… 

You crack.

“I don’t know how to make it better, Al…”  You whisper brokenly, forehead pressed to the glass. “I can’t– I don’t know how to help you.”

Any assistance you could have possibly had turned their backs the moment the danger far outweighed the payment– which had been the case from the very start.  Though you can’t find it in yourself to fault them.  If it wasn’t for the fact your heart was lying on that table, you’d have probably followed. The threat of death can be very convincing. 

When the tendrils creep onto his face, you break containment.  And why not?  Why shouldn’t you go in?  You helped make this mess.  You helped create the organism consuming him.  For years, you worked alongside him to perfect the cure to humanity’s wretches– to cull the species destroying this planet and dragging the rest down.

Perhaps you deserved the same fate for sharing in his endeavors– for even having goals so similar and selfish.  But was it really?  Was it so selfish to want better for humanity? 

You drag your swivel chair behind you as you tread over dried blood smears and dehydrated viscera. 

“You always did like making me do things the hard way,” you jest as you approach him.  But you’re not in there to take notes or vitals.

You set foot inside to relieve your madness.

Your hand quakes as it hovers above his forehead.  You’re unsure if you should even touch him due to the blistering and ripplings of infection marring his skin.  The burns have healed a tad since bringing him in, but not nearly as much as they should’ve.  Then again, it’s been weeks since he’s had a dose of suppressant to keep his strength balanced.

You lower the back of your hand toward his nose, relieved to feel the faintest tickling of air.

“Thank god,” you whisper tightly.  “I really miss you...”

Which was the honest truth.  You miss your mundane nights with him, sitting near as you both worked independently. Stacks of paper, the clicking of keyboards, endless hours in the laboratories spent refining mere dreams into reality.  You miss his cold affections and strange ways of expressing that he, too, had been infected with that parasite known as love.

You let your hand rest shakily over a section of his hair that hadn’t been burnt down to the scalp.  You hold your breath and wait.

And wait.

And wait.

You are not added to the stains of violence on the walls, nor are you impaled in the blink of an eye.

But you are greeted with a much thinner tendril creeping up over his brow and forehead to inspect you.  It nudges your thumb and your whole body goes tense, veins chilling as if your blood had turned to ice.  It slithers over the bumps of your knuckles, leaving a thin layer of ooze over every inch of skin it touches as it trails to wrap around your wrist.  For a brief second, you’re petrified of it taking hold of you like that.  Would it try to bind with you?  What if it did to you what it had done to your precious Albert? What if it rejected you?

And if it did, how would you continue to try to help him? 

But it doesn’t.  It does nothing of the sort, just simply continues snaking up the length of your arm.  The tip rests atop your shoulder in a strangely… docile manner. You cease petting Wesker’s hair for but a moment to calm yourself, and then you feel it do something odd.

The head of the tendril lifts itself and plops back down on your shoulder, stroking backward little more than an inch before repeating the process.  You watch with wide eyes, both fascinated and terrified.

It’s mimicking you.

You pet Wesker’s hair once more and it ceases its movements.

You stop; it begins again.

Was Uroboros itself doing such an act?  Could it?

A flicker of hope flashes in your mind and tears prick at your eyes.  It’s so fucking unlikely– nearly impossible even.  And yet–

“Is that you?”  You ask softly, inching just a little closer to him.  You can see the way his eyes dart around beneath his eyelids– an entirely new development.  Was he dreaming? 

The tendril wraps the slightest bit tighter around your arm. 

“Can you hear me?”

The head of it lifts and falls against you once more.

It couldn’t be… but, at the same time, it had to be.   The tears you’ve fought against so hard fall and you grin from ear to ear.  All of that fear fades away, the desperation, the depression and hopelessness– it’s all gone.

You lean forward and press a kiss to his brow, suppressing your silent cries as you revel in the joy that your love is still in there.  This is no mere corpse kept alive by the resilience of a virus. The tendril wraps tighter the second your lips brush his skin, and you know in your heart that it’s how he’s able to reciprocate.

“We're going to figure this out,” you promise him. “I love you.”

Two weeks pass before his flesh starts to peek from between those slithering lengths.  You’d almost lost hope again.

It’s his lower body that starts to emerge first, bit by bit, starting from the feet up.  Flesh that was once marred an angry red, blistered and scorched beyond recognition, was now a scarred pink.  Amazingly, some patches seemed to have healed flawlessly, as if he’d never submerged in the fires of the earth to begin with.

Notes and photos.  Tests where possible.  Anything you could do to make sure Albert had every scrap of information possible about his otherworldly creation.  

Uroboros works.

Not only that, but it can bring its host back from the brink of death– if not perform a complete resurrection. 

Day by day, more of him is revealed until the pink line at his waist shows you just how deep he’d been submerged.  There are splatter patterns elsewhere, you notice.  Tiny specks of scarring from where lava had touched him long enough to burn through the dermal layers.

You decide to finally attempt to cover his body again.  A simple blanket, but hopefully one that’s warmth would not go unappreciated in the chill of the sterile room. 

When his hands are freed, you hold and press countless kisses to them.  You rest your cheek in his palm, telling him about your findings– that he’s almost healed and that you’re so goddamn excited.

“Uroboros is a success, my love.  You’re proof of it.”

The most fascinating of all, though, is the amber-like formation embedded in his chest.  From what you can tell, it is from this that the tentacles on his body are emerging.

You dare not touch it. Not yet, anyway.

Six days later, you find yourself kicking around in the barren kitchen of the complex.  There’s nothing but crumbs, and you’re miserable.  You haven’t left since arriving, and these compounds of his were never meant to be more than a brief hideaway.

You drag your feet as you make your way back to the bedroom.  Seems there’s little more to do than throw yourself in the shower to start your day, so you do exactly that.  Though not with any degree of enthusiasm.  Instead you sit on the ground and hug your knees, eyes shut as you ignore the complaints of your stomach.

You’ll have to find transportation to and from the nearest town– if there even was one.  It’d be lucky if you spoke the language or could even find the currency, but you’ll figure it out.  You have no choice.

In the absence of your awareness, coupled with the white noise of the shower, you fail to hear the door creak open.  Not even the disoriented shuffling against the tile floor rouses you.

Suddenly, the shower curtain is ripped open, and you startle– damn near knocking your head off the floor as you slip around like a fool.  But you clamber to your knees in an instant, arms flinging around the intruder who had fallen to your level.

You can’t help but weep.

“Al?!  Oh my god!” you exclaim through the tightness of your throat. Your hand strokes at the nape of his neck.  “I’m so sorry… I’m so sorry.”

You should’ve been there when he woke up.  You should’ve fucking been there.

He shouldn’t have had to find you.

You move back and cup his face in your hands, pressing a smiling kiss to his lips despite the torrent of emotion rocking you to your core.  You pull away and find that he looks exhausted.  Completely and utterly drained.  His eyes are hooded, but the blue irises peeking out from under his lashes confirm that he is, in fact, exactly that. The formerly bright formation on his chest is dimmed nearly black.  All of his energy had gone into merely surviving.  Your poor, sweet love looked death in the eye for a second time and emerged victorious.

You help him get under the stream of water where you sit and hold him close.  You’ve never seen him like this before.  Vulnerable was an understatement.

He’s quieter than ever, staring straight ahead at the wall.  Shame, you surmise.  Humiliation.  He was defeated again– maybe even flat out killed.  His pride has always been its own Tower of Babel, built high enough to reach heaven and godhood.  But now it was truly shattered.  Crumbled to bits and buried in the sands of his failure.

There are no words to say.  Not yet, anyway.  He’s already heard them all.  Instead, there is shampoo to massage into his scalp and soap to trail over his body.  You may not be able to fix his pain, but you can wash away the remnants of volcanic ash and ooze tarnishing him.  The burden of grime is at least gone by the time the water runs cold.

You dry him with a towel, taking note of how his hands shake and how he balls them into fists to hide it.  You wonder if he still hurts, but you know he’d never admit to it even if he was truly in pain. Even wincing was out of the question, so you pretend not to hear it when he does.  You pretend like he doesn’t lean on you for support as you walk him to the bed, like he doesn’t need your help to lift his legs high enough to settle in.

He lets you hold him while he sleeps, something so out of the ordinary it leaves you blinking in confusion the second his head lays upon your chest.  Nevertheless, you do it anyway.  You pet through his hair, even occasionally running your fingertips over the healed sections of his scalp.  Normally he would stir if you so much as shifted, but he doesn’t even groan in his slumber.  

You hold him as though he's made of ceramic, basking in the tenderness of hope until your own eyelids grow heavy.  The world can wait.  Rebuilding can wait. Hell, even revenge can wait.  All that matters is this– is him. Your precious Albert, safe and very much alive in your arms, is more than you could ever ask for.

For the first time in weeks, your eyes flutter shut without fear of tomorrow.

loose followup fic here

another loose followup here

[beyondthesefourwalls]

Flight Suit Aphrodisiac

Summary: There was something about seeing Jake in his flight suit that got to you every single time. It had always been attractive, sure, but nowadays it was like something of an aphrodisiac. It didn’t matter what you were doing or where you were; when you saw him in it, you had to have him.

Pairing: Jake Seresin x Reader (no use of y/n, can be read as unnamed OC)

Word Count: 1000

Warnings: Smut, language.

Notes: Written for this request from @arson-tm. I hope you like it! 

______

There was something about seeing Jake in his flight suit that got to you every single time. It had been attractive since the very first time you saw him in it, strutting down the produce section in the grocery store you met in, but nowadays it was like something of an aphrodisiac to you. Every time he wore it around you, your heart rate increased, your panties dampened (assuming you were wearing any to begin with), and you just had to have him. 

You blamed the hormones. 

“I’m going to be late for work,” he grunted into your neck, even as he continued to nip and suck at the skin, darkening the bruises he had left last night. You tightened both your legs and your pussy around him in response, making him groan. His next thrust was harder than the ones before and you craved more.

“Your fault,” you panted, nails scratching at his back hard enough to make him hiss. You raised your hips to meet his on his next downward stroke. “This god damn suit.” 

A cocky look you knew all too well took over Jake’s pretty face and he smirked down at you. “You like the flight suit, baby?” 

“You know I do,” you whined. His cock hit that spot inside of you that had your eyes rolling back and you let out a loud, drawn out moan of his name. 

“Yeah you do. Can’t get enough of me in this thing, can you?” 

Your hair splayed out on the pillow as you frantically shook your head. You were so focused on how good he felt inside of you that you were losing the ability to form coherent sentences. But Jake loved you like this, you knew. His already inflated ego grew even bigger when you were a dumb, fucked out mess because of the pleasure he was bringing you. And truly, he deserved it. No one has ever made you feel this good and you knew no one ever would again. 

He gave a breathless chuckle as he pounded into you harder and faster. The mattress squeaked and the headboard hit against the wall. 

“Please,” you managed to whimper. That familiar coil was tightening inside of you, and you were growing closer and closer to the edge. All it took was the rough pad of Jake’s thumb pressing firmly against your clit to throw you over. You gushed around his cock, his name bouncing off the walls of your bedroom as you screamed. Through the haze you thought maybe he was praising you for being a good girl and how beautiful you looked as he chased after his own orgasm. You were still spasming around him when you felt him release inside of you, his warm cum filling you up. 

Like they always did when he was fucking you this way, his lips met yours as he rode it out. As much as he loved hearing you scream for him, he loved kissing you as you both came down from the high even more. You didn’t mind a bit as your tongue tangled with his; he tasted like the spearmint toothpaste he had used right before you jumped him. You hummed in delight. 

Your foreheads pressed together when he pulled away, the both of you fighting to catch your breath. You rubbed a hand up and down his back as your heart rate calmed, feeling the scratches you had left there. When you had your bearings somewhat back, you purposefully clenched your walls around him. His softening cock twitched inside of you and his groan made you smile.  

“You’re gonna be late,” you warned him, echoing his earlier words, “better go.” 

“You fucking tease of a woman,” he said gruffly, but there was no actual heat behind his words. He kissed you again before slowly pulling out and rolling off of you to stand. You clenched your thighs together on instinct; you loved the feel of his spend inside of you. You carefully moved onto your side to watch as he jogged into the en suite, coming back out with a damp washcloth. You took it from him before he had the chance to use it on you himself. 

“If you touch me down there right now, you won’t be going into work.” 

His chest puffed out in pride and you rolled your eyes; you loved him so much.

You watched him put his undershirt on and snap his briefs back into place, before continuing on to pull the heavy material of the suit back up his thighs. You don’t know if you were relieved or disappointed when, instead of putting it all the way on, he tied it at his hips. The full appeal came from seeing him all zipped up in it, the material stretched across his broad chest and shoulders with his patches on display, and he knew it. 

“I love you, darling.” He leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to your lips and then another to your forehead, before shifting to press a kiss to your growing tummy. He rubbed a thumb over the stretching skin. “And I love you too, little one.” 

Like it always did when he spoke to your unborn child, your heart melted a little. You grabbed his hand before he could walk away from the bed you were still lying in, completely naked and on display with no shame whatsoever. 

“Call me on your way home?” you requested. It was unnecessary because he always did, but you asked him every morning anyway. 

Jake quirked an eyebrow, a playful but knowing look in his eyes as he squeezed your hand. “Should I wear the flight suit home?”  You bit your lip with a nod, shamelessly looking him up and down. Desire sparked in you again as you thought about how good he always made you feel; you were so lucky he was all yours. “Yes. Please.”

______

Notes: Thanks for reading! Likes/comments/reblogs always mean a lot.

I don’t have a tag list for Jake and don’t want to bombard my Bradley girlies with this if they don’t want him, but in case I do anything for Hangman in the future, let me know if you’d like to be added to a new list 💚

Masterlist

[1800naveen]

Spoilers?? (Mentions of major character deaths)

Greenies can joke about Rhaenyra's death all they want but it's one of the coolest ways someone can die in a song of ice and fire and as a Targaryen.

If you aren't aware of how Rhaenyra dies, she is cut at her breast which alerts Sunfyre and he (she?) doses Rhaenyra in dragon fire before devouring her.

That is metal as fuck.

That's a dragon rider's death. That's a Targaryen death right there.

"Rhaenyra Targaryen had time to raise her head toward the sky and shriek out one last curse upon her half-brother before Sunfyre’s jaws closed round her, tearing off her arm and shoulder."

SHE WAS BEING BURNED ALIVE BUT SHE CURSED OUT AEGON ONE LAST TIME! SHE DIED NOT A COWARD BUT A QUEEN WITH HER HEAD HELD HIGH. I wonder what she said to him.

And you want to know how Aegon died?

He got poisoned.

"A cold wind was blowing. As the litter set off, the king closed the curtains against the chill. Inside, as always, was a flagon of sweet Arbor red, Aegon’s favorite wine. The king availed himself of a small cup as the litter crossed the yard."

"Ser Gyles and the litter bearers had no notion aught was amiss until they reached the sept, and the curtains did not open. “We are here, Your Grace,” the knight said. No answer came, but only silence. When a second query and a third produced the same, Ser Gyles Belgrave threw back the curtains, and found the king dead upon his cushions."

“There was blood upon his lips,” the knight said. “Elsewise he might have been sleeping.”

Poison is considered to be a woman's weapon. Aegon who usurped his sister's throne because she was a woman, died by a woman's weapon. Gotta love the irony. There are theories that Corlys or Larys poisoned him, what do you think? I think Corlys did it.

"Aegon was a good king!"

"Septon Eustace tells us that a “strange euphoria” took hold of King’s Landing; Mushroom simply says that “half the city was drunk.” The corpse of King Aegon II was consigned to the flames, in the hopes that all the ills and hatreds of his reign might be burned away with his remains. Thousands climbed Aegon’s High Hill to hear Prince Aegon proclaim that peace was at hand."

Mfs was getting turnt the fuck up when they found out that he died. They could finally be at peace after his reign. Yeah, don't say Aegon is a good king when this quote exists.

And Aegon and Sunfyre don't have the most powerful bond. A good example would be Daemon and Caraxes, Dany and her children too.

That answer was no answer, plainly. “Not Silverwing,” His Grace declared. “I will have a new Sunfyre, prouder and fiercer than the last.”

Sunfyre in the afterlife hearing that:

Your dragon died due to the shit you put them through and you want to get a new one? Damn, at least mourn or something. The dragons deserve so much better.

Everyone on team black died cool or interesting ass deaths. Rhaenys taking on two dragons and not even fleeing when she realized that she wouldn't win the battle, Jace and Luke dying alongside their dragons like a Targaryen and being buried in the sea like a Velaryon, Daemon leaping off Caraxes and driving Dark Sister into Aemond's eye; the eye that Luke took out.

Team green?

Otto got beheaded, Aemond looking up at terror when Daemon made him Dark Sister's place holder, Criston Cole getting arrows in him by the winter wolves who declared that no one will sing songs of him and his head was put on a spear, Daeron Tentsbane dying in a tent fire, and Alicent was driven mad after the dance, regretting her choices and hating the color green. Dark sister and Vhagar's skull were retrieved but they left Aemond's skeleton down there. They buried what was left of Rhaenyra but didn't do shit from him.

Helaena will not be mentioned because she didn't deserve any of this, the same for Jaehaerys, Maelor, and Jaehaera.

"Sunfyre ate!" Yes, Sunfyre did eat Rhaenyra. You want a cookie for reminding us?

"Sunfyre, it is said, did not seem at first to take any interest in the offering, until Broome pricked the queen’s breast with his dagger. The smell of blood roused the dragon, who sniffed at Her Grace, then bathed her in a blast of flame."

Sunfyre was nearing death, animals will stop eating when they near death (does it count for a dragon?).

Anyways, remember that Rhaenyra and Daemon's bloodline prevailed and gave us Daenerys, the current Baratheons, the current Martells, Brienne (through Duncan), Jon Snow (not yet to be confirmed in the books). And Aegon's line was brought to an end.

WHEN YOU USURP, YOUR LINE SHALL END! Maegor and Aegon: usurping the throne and having their line ended because of it.

"The choice is his, but he shall have no children. My sister’s line must end.”

Should've specified which sister.

Now enjoy some art of the rightful queen and her king (consort):

🎨: Jotasaraiva! So good, power couple.

🎨: Daewithmon! (Tried to make out the credits below but it's down there)

🎨: Chillyravenart!

@paparinka, give them a follow if you like the art!

DON'T TAKE THIS SERIOUSLY, I LIKE TO YAP🙏🏾

[nights-ofren]

I genuinely don't understand why anybody (besides Jensen) is excited at the idea of more Supernatural. If they do bring it back it'll just be more of the same. It'll be worse than the finale, I guarantee it. It'll be written by the same shitty writers and directed by the same shitty directors and produced by the same boring old straight white paycheck-cashing producers. Misha either won't be in it at all or he'll be in it just enough for them to make a joke of his goodbye scene. I guarantee if the confession gets mentioned at all it'll be a one-scene awkward brush off with the cheesy its-a-joke! no homo! comedy segue music behind it. They'll have Cas and Dean both act embarrassed and agree to never mention it again and then cough bacon cough football cough guns haha oh no we're being attacked by monsters! Here's a shitty ten minute fight scene to fill time so we don't have to talk about this gay shit anymore! Seriously. It'll be a boring cringe fest, directed by Bob Singer. Just like the finale. But longer. NOTHING has changed in the three years since the show ended. Nothing. If it comes back it'll just be more of the same. You remember how Andrew Dabb said at Comic Con the year before the show ended "if you hated the end of Game of Thrones just wait!" and people thought he was joking? Yeah. That. But "if you hated the SPN ending just wait til you see the garbage we haven't got planned for the short season streaming reboot!" Oh you thought it couldn't get any worse than the finale? Just wait til you see what they can't do with an even LOWER budget now that all the white dudes involved are even OLDER and have LESS time to make it! You thought The Winchesters special effects were embarrassingly bad? Just wait! You thought we couldn't possibly treat Misha Collins any worse? Just wait!

*deep sigh*

I have to agree with you anon. As much as little day dreamer me would love a new season (or at least a better epilogue) where Cas returns, Dean declares his love, they get married a go live in a white picket fence house, we WON'T.

so I would honestly keep living in "fix-it" land where marvellous authors and artists give us the ending we all hoped for and deserved, but not get canon ruin it even more for us :(

[oneforthemunny]

an angel's kiss in spring |mafia!eddie munson x reader|

prompt: the mafia!eddie fluff you all wanted is here.

contains: fluff lol. just pure fluff. some mafia themes but really just super sweet fluff.

"Eddie!"

He shouldn't have jumped the way he did, startled and gripping the glock on his hip, fingers wrapping around the piece. Lucifer growled at the jostled movement of his master, ears perking and turning towards you.

It wasn't a distressed call by any means, more excited than anything, but Eddie still found himself on edge. Far too consumed in his own anxieties and fears, years of stacked skeletons in his closet did that to him. He knew it was silly to look for threats here. It was a farmer's market in the shit hole middle of nowhere, a thirty minute haul out to the boonies. He didn't conduct business here; hell, he was convinced that the only business done out here was this farmer's market. Yet, he still was ready. Guard up and on alert so at any moment, he was ready; he had to be.

You hadn't seemed to notice his distress, Hades' leash in your hand while you stepped closer to the small vendor. Eddie pushed his band tee back down, covering the holster, eyes scanning the area. His curls were frizzing with every passing second in the muggy, hot air of the summer. He felt out of place, out in jeans and Reeboks instead of his usual work attire.

"What'd ya find, baby?" Eddie pushed his sunglasses further up the bridge of your nose, free hand skating over your back gently.

"Look," You grinned, holding up the small plastic bag. "They're dog treats."

Diablo's ears perked at the use of his favorite word, sitting at attention with his brothers, eyes trained on you. Eddie clicked his tongue, a signal to relax. "That's nice."

"It's banana, peanut butter, and oats- and oh! These have pumpkin! Vecna loved the pumpkin bread I made-"

"-That you weren't supposed to give him." Eddie gave you a stern look that bore through the tinted lenses of his frames.

You blushed, thighs twitching at his tone. "Well, he loved it." You chirped, swiping a bag. "I'll get him these, and... oh, there's bacon ones? Oh, they will all love those. Look, honey, they're all home made. Isn't that so cute?" You gushed.

Eddie nodded at the older woman, who beamed at your compliments. "Very cool." Eddie gave a half smile, already reaching for his wallet in his back pocket.

"I got it." You pushed his hand away, reaching into your bag.

Eddie paused, blinking behind his glasses before scoffing. "C'mon," He rolled his eyes, passing a fifty towards the woman. "You lost your mind?"

You smirked, huffing at him with feigned annoyance. The woman cut her eyes up to you two, warm and kind. "You two are very sweet. Have you been together long?"

You grinned. "Almost two years." You hugged his waist tightly.

Eddie let himself melt into you. There was no need for the frigid exterior here. No one knew who he was, this woman certainly didn't or her hands would be trembling when she handed him the bag. "Keep the change." Eddie nodded towards her when she went to her little change box.

She blinked at him, mouth rounding in surprise to match her eyes. "Sir, that's-"

Eddie waved her off. "Have a great day." He smirked, taking the paper bag for you, his free hand still on your waist.

"That was very sweet." You smiled up at him. "Probably made her whole day."

Eddie blushed, lips pressing together to hold back his own smile. He beamed in your praise, wanted to drown himself in it. "'s nothing, really. Just thirty bucks."

"Yeah, but that's thirty bucks to her. Might mean something different than to you." You tilted your head at him.

He nodded easily. "Hope it does. She made you happy. She deserved it."

It was your turn to blush, hiding your face gently in his chest, walking through the gravelly dirt. Eddie let you pile up your bag with fresh vegetables, fruits, jams. You liked coming here. You insisted "fresh produce" was better than the stuff at the store, and he'd believe you. Of course, he would. He'd believe anything you told him.

"You're sweet, you know that?" Your tone is love drunk, dazed and warm, blinking up at him. The sun illuminating his curls, the hints of those walnut flecks through his hair shining with sunshine.

Eddie grinned, dimples deep in his own cheeks, pulling you closer to his side. "Yeah? Don't tell anyone." He muttered, pressing his lips to the top of your head. "Don't blow my cover. Got a reputation to uphold."

You snorted, shaking you head lightly. "Think you've gone soft since you've been hanging around me, Munson."

"Sure." Eddie rolled his eyes. "Don't get too ahead of yourself, kitten. I can show you how mean I am if you keep teasing me." He growled lowly, the hand on your hip sliding down to the fatty flesh of your ass, giving it a firm squeeze that had your shrilling in giggles.

The dogs turned, glaring and snarling at Eddie at your distress sound. He clicked his teeth, louder this time, and they fell back into line. Normally, he'd be mad at their disobedience, but he couldn't blame them for looking out for you. Made him proud that they wanted to protect you. That they loved you.

"You've ruined them." Eddie shook his head at you, watching you scratch Diablo's head with a coo. "Spoiled them rotten."

"Whatever. They deserve it, don't you? Yes, you do my little precious baby boys! You deserve it!" You cooed at them in a high pitched voice that had them wagging their tails, jumping and panting to get closer to you.

Eddie opened the door, unclipping their leashes, whistling for them to pile in. You slid into the passenger seat, grinning back at the boys, panting and scrambling around in the back. "Put the windows down for them, please." You asked, setting your produce below your feet.

Eddie obliged, one hand putting the car in reverse while the windows lowered, hand pulling out of the spot expertly. His hand found your thigh easily, cupping it gently, lips curling at the way you flushed, wrapping around his arm and kissing his elbow sweetly.

You giggled, watching Diablo and Vecna in the window, wagging tongues out in the wind, ears blowing in the breeze. "Look at them, baby." You leaned your head against his, looking out the side mirror. "They're just the cutest."

Eddie smirked, looking over at you. "Not as cure as you, honey." He muttered, squeezing your thigh so you'd squeal. Like clockwork, you did.

You rolled your eyes, propping your chin on his veiny forearms to look at him. "That was cheesy." You sighed, kissing the hem of his shirt.

Eddie flushed, tingling under your kiss. He wanted to reach over, pull the car over and kiss you all sloppy and sweet, press you up against the seat and make out with you until his lips were numb. Until you were clawing at his back and whining in his ear. Normally, he would, but with the dogs, that would be a challenge.

So he grabbed your hand instead, bringing your knuckles to his lips, kissing each one with a gentle softness that had you blushing. "How about that?" Eddie muttered, winking at you. "That cheesy too?"

"A little." You giggled, tightening your hug around his bicep. "'s alright. I liked it. Like it when you get all cheesy and cliche-y on me. It's sweet."

Eddie snorted lightly, looking at Lucifer biting the air out side of the window. "Not many people would describe me as sweet."

You shrugged. "Not many people know you like I do." You said simply. "You're pretty sweet, Munson. The sweetest person I know."

Eddie didn't reply, his hand squeezing yours affectionately instead, but you saw the bob of his throat. You saw the way his jaw flexed, not angry but more emotional. You knew he wouldn't ever say it, couldn't say it, but it meant a lot to him that you saw him that was. Soft and sweet... kind even. For you? He would be.

How could he not?

When you smothered him in kisses and sweet words. When you loved him so unconditionally, without limits or consequences. He trusted you, loved you, would do anything for you.

It's why he drove an hour and a half out to the middle of no where for you. To a Farmer's Market when he could go to Melvald's and get most of this. You wanted to go here, it made you happy, so he took you. The smile on your face when you got something new and fun, like the treats for the dogs, oh, it made it all worth it.

Eddie loved when you'd get home, cutting up the fruit and mixing it in a large bowl, scooping out some for him. It reminded him of his mother, how she'd always bring him some when he was upset, her silent way of showing love and care for him.

He loved spending time with you, in the garden, throwing a slobbery tennis ball to the dogs that clambered over each other to get it and bring it back to you. You sat in the grass with him, snuggled into him even in the heat. He didn't mind. Just happy to be with you, feel normal and peaceful in these moments with you.

[lemonnsss]

Moral of the Story: Chapter 8

Warnings: Mild tangent based off of an actual conversation I had (I'm actually from D.C. so this was fun), one singular bad pun- it deserves its own warning, and probably strained warning.

Feedback is always appreciated

Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9

Taglist: @vicmc624 , @mostlymarvelgirl , @yvonneeeee, @beetlejuicesupremacy , @moonlightreader649 , @whattheduckisupkyle , @chrisevans-realwife, @nekoannie-chan , @mrsbarnes32557038 , @imyourbratzdoll , @weallhaveadestiny

Word Count: 1.8k

“Apologies but until you had agreed and were here it was still considered confidential.”

“O-okay, um, where- or how should I start?”

The director stood across the bed from me, eyebrows furrowed, the room filled with silence apart from the constant, steady beeps of the machinery.

“How the hell should I know? You’re the one with the super-abilities.”

“Right, sorry, that was dumb. Do you know if any of his internal organs were damaged when he went under? Or have you had the chance to run any tests yet?”

“I’m sorry, what crash are we talking about?” Tony said, still standing in the doorway.

Fury pinched the bridge of his nose in annoyance before responding, “When the Captain here decided to take a trip twenty thousand leagues under the sea he was in a, shall we say, pseudo-nazi aircraft with a fixed route on its way to the states. His options were to let the ship take its course and let millions die or take a nosedive, he took the latter, rather obviously. Speaking of,” the attention turned to me, “how did you know that?”

“Sir, I’m a licensed teacher from pre-k to high school- I’m not by any means immune to misinformation; although, I do have a bit more knowledge on the topic than most people- not to mention my…” my mind trailed off for a moment before coming back, “former colleague taught history, rather fitting as he lived through it, too.”

His one eye began to look me up and down, “Remind me, where did you work last? Aside from with the X-Men that is.”

There was an uncertainty in his voice that made the agents who went down the elevator with us glance at each other nervously. What I had seen twice in my less-than-a-day stint of knowing this man seemed uncommon or unsettling for those who had known him longer.

“I don’t believe I said. Besides, doesn’t your file on me say?” We were both fishing for information, a push and pull I’d grown adjusted to on the flight over.

He remained silent, motioning one of the residents to come over.

“S-so we ran s-some tests-,” he took a moment to breathe and calm himself down, he spoke with a light stutter, likely to have been more prevalent in his earlier years. It sounded like he had gotten speech therapy, and was likely better, nervous, but better, “a lot of the scans were, well are, useless. His blood, everything about him really, was frozen, barely mobile. So the extent of the internal injuries he potentially sustained upon impact is uncertain. I sent for some new prints of the scans we took last week, but they haven’t come in yet; they’ll probably arrive today but it’s pretty touch and go sometimes.” He finished talking with a meek smile, likely proud of how he handled the situation.

“You did the scans last week and they’re only coming in today?” I could feel the look of confusion that overtook my face, he chuckled lightly and rubbed his neck.

“Yeah, we don’t have the equipment to produce the scans here so we send them over to the hospital over in Takoma Park to print- they have the most up-to-date machinery, and they were the only ones willing to work with us privately- so it takes a bit of time.”

“Perks of D.C., eh? Either have the most outrageous tax or go out of district.”

“Exactly! Say, did you grow up ‘round here?”

“No, up in Salem. I used to teach. I planned enough ‘government trips’ to last a few lifetimes.”

I could’ve sworn I heard him mutter a few “cool” s under his breath before he spoke up again, “It was nice getting to talk with you, but I kinda have some other patients I gotta check up on.” he moved by Fury, a “sir” slipping out as he passed and a little wave to me as he left.

The four who accompanied me in the elevator looked at each other, all but Tony practically questioning if this was normal for me.

The director cleared his throat, calling my attention back over to him, "When can you start?"

"Oh! Any time. I was only wondering how badly he was hurt so I can give you my best estimation for how long it'll take me to finish this."

“Will this not be a one-time excursion?”

“...No? Not likely.”

I was done with conversing, done with this nonsense. Placing my hand on the captain’s chest the area where we touched began to glow with a golden hue- I’d always been told my eyes did the same. It was unlike healing Tony a year ago- I didn’t have to rush, it wasn’t life or death- I could take my time and triage.

His biggest issue was hypothermia, unsurprisingly. I felt the cold move through his body to mine. A deep chill settled in my bones.

I pulled away, “Do you know if there’s a heating pad somewhere? Or something like it?” I hadn’t looked at them, afraid of how they would react. A few seconds of silence passed before I turned to them- Tony looked confused, maybe he didn’t see what my powers looked like, and he probably had some blood loss going on at the time; Fury stood unwavering with the smallest tent in his brow, but then again who could read him; the male agent who’d gone with us was standing, mouth slightly agape; and the female agent was gone slipped out without a sound- weird.

She looked like she’d be the ‘hard-ass’ type despite her being, what, 5’3”-5’4”. She was maybe Tony’s age, though it was difficult to tell, her seemingly ageless golden skin a potential factor, Tony’s substance abuse didn’t exactly help his cause though.

She walked back in, a wired heating pad in hand, she lifted it in the air inquisitively before tossing it to me.

“Thank you, Agent-”

“It’s no problem.” She cut me off gruffly.

I set the heating pad up in a chair and sat down, placing my hand back on the captain, and, over a few hours, I healed him as much as I could before returning to the hotel for the night. A comfortable cycle that lasted for a few months.

I walked into S.H.I.E.L.D.’s office for what would likely be the last time, at least soon.

I walked up to the agents who had escorted me on my first day- Agents May and Coulson I’d learned.

“Ready for your last day?” Coulson asked a melancholic tone laced his voice.

“Are you excited to be done with babysitting me?” I teased.

I’d gotten more comfortable around Coulson, though it wasn’t exactly difficult with his rather ‘easy-going’ nature, and comfortable enough around Agent May to talk to her. We walked along the rather familiar path to Captain Rogers’ room. I made quick work of healing what remained of his injuries.

He still wasn’t awake. For whatever reason I thought Cap would wake up when I had finished healing him.

Coulson and I talked for a while before heading to the entrance once I’d gotten word back from Tony that his chauffeur was there to pick me up.

“I’m gonna miss you, kid.” he whispered, pulling me into a side hug.

“I’ll miss you too, Phil.” I replied, “ It was nice getting to know you, Agent-”

“May, call me May.” She cut me off, “And, unless you quit within the next year we’ll probably see you soon. Stark has an odd habit of getting in trouble with almost anyone and everyone.” 

“I’ll miss you too.”

A car horn was blaring outside for a minute and I knew it was Tony, “Guess that’s my cue, goodbye.” I sent them a soft smile and a wave before I got in the car.

A few months passed by with ease with the Stark Expo taking up more time and paperwork than I could’ve imagined. I walked in one day to see Coulson in Tony’s office.

“Phil? Oh my gosh, it’s so good to see you! What’s got you across the country?”

“It’s good to see you too, kid. I’m here because S.H.I.E.L.D. is requesting Mr. Stark’s presence.” He spoke rather cooly about Tony, a stark contrast to his normal.

“TONY! Did you break the Geneva Convention?!” Tony looked at me speechless, feigning hurt I would even think of it, Coulson stood beside me struggling and barely holding back a chuckle.

“No, unfortunately not. ‘We’ need to borrow him, more specifically the ‘Iron Man’ suit. As I was saying before, we have a helicarrier waiting for your arrival.”

“Okay, Tony. Please, stop being a bitch and get your shit. You’re lucky they step in enough to keep you out of prison for some likely war criminal activity. Suck it up and grab your bags.” I walked to Tony’s desk and put down his coffee before walking into my office and grabbing the duffel I had stuffed in the corner of the room.

I walked back out, “Where’d you say the plane was?”

Coulson showed me to the plane where we waited for about twenty minutes before Tony walked over with his bags. We piled in and got up to the helicarrier, a giant airbase I was told was legal.

May was waiting for us on deck and showed me to my room before leaving me to unpack.

I had to have been walking through those damn near identical hallways for half an hour before giving up.

After yelling into my hands I spoke, to no one but myself, “How do people even get around these things? It’s a whole death trap, I swear.”

“Exactly!” A voice called out from behind me. I turned around to find a familiar face, Captain America, “I guess you don’t work here either?”

“Oh, um, no. You couldn’t pay me to stay on this thing.”

He laughed revealing a warm smile that fit his beautiful, angel-like face perfectly.

“Nice to meet you, I’m Steve Rogers.”

“Kyrie Eirsson- I’m Mr. Stark’s personal assistant.”

I saw his eyes widen in recognition at the second half, “Oh! You’re the person I’m supposed to find.”

“What? Oh, fuck, that’s embarrassing.” I held my face in my hands, my face flushing furiously, I moved my fingers to see the Captain’s face. He stood across from me, face turned away, fist in front of his mouth in a failing attempt to hide his wide grin.

“In any case, Stark’s having a fit without you on the bridge. Shall we?” He held out his arm for me to take.

“I disappear for what, forty-fifty minutes and he goes nuts without me, shocker.” I took his arm gleefully, laughing at how ridiculous the situation was.

[horangboosadan]

HOME | CHOI SEUNGCHEOL

synopsis: a lazy morning in the life you share with choi seungcheol.

pairing: choi seungcheol x gender neutral reader

genre: fluff, established relationship, gn!reader, intentional lowercase

wc: 754

boo talks: i wrote this late on tuesday (when it was still coups birthday) so think of this as a late happy birthday and my little intro to possibly doing more than just smaus (tho probably heavy on the smaus still - they're a lot of fun).

main masterlist

love is weird. it’s complicated. it’s simple. it’s hard. it’s easy. it’s everything and nothing. all the feelings and at the same time none of them.

falling in love with choi seungcheol was easy. his laugh. his smile. his passion. it’s easy to fall in love with someone who does nothing but bring others joy, who does nothing but show exactly who he is to those around him, making sure they know he cares.

being in love with choi seungcheol was hard. the constant pounding of your heart whenever he was around. the constant amount of sweat you produced. the constant feeling deep in your stomach that you could never be certain was what everyone called butterflies, or if it was wasps―because no matter how tingly the feeling was, it hurt.

confessing to choi seungcheol was simple. despite the clammy hands, the constant biting of your lips, and the fact that it felt like your heart would simply combust, it was simple. three words that rolled of your tongue easier than you had ever anticipated. three words that felt like they lightened the load you’d had on your shoulders ever since you first realised your feelings. three words that meant everything: ‘i like you’.

dating choi seungcheol is complicated. keeping a relationship secret is always complicated, but even more so when one half of that relationship is a kpop idol. whilst the sneaking around will always bring a bit of adrenaline to any relationship, at some point it gets exhausting. not to be able to tell the world you love someone, not to be able to hold their hand whenever you like, not to be able to show them the affection they deserve at every waking moment.

but you both manage.

especially on days like today. where you don’t have work and you can lie in bed wrapped around each other for as long as you like, with the very exception of a dog that needs to be walked. thankfully, kkuma knows her owner needs his sleep when he can, or at least, needs the opportunity to not have to get up the moment he wakes.

you know he’s awake when you feel the loose arm around your waist tighten its grip, pulling you close. you don’t turn around, don’t alert him to the fact that you’re awake. you don’t react when you feel his lips against your neck, a soft peck because you know he can’t help himself. the hand around your waist caresses the skin there, rubbing soft circles that has you melt into his embrace.

the smile on your face gives you away.

“so you are awake,” he whispers.

you nod as you turn around. he kisses you the moment he can. a chaste one that lingers. “sleep well?” you ask, knowing he didn’t fall asleep until hours after you went to bed, knowing he didn't fall asleep until long after you.

“always do with you in my arms.”

“cheesy,” you say. “are you sure? i noticed you got up at some point.”

seungcheol shakes his head. “thought you were asleep?” he sighs as his head falls back to hit the pillow. “but yeah. i slept well, just maybe not a lot.”

“better than nothing, i guess.” you find his hand underneath the duvet and intertwine your fingers. “at least you can sleep today. as long as you like.”

“what time is it?”

“eleven.”

“i have to walk kkuma.”

“i’ll do it.” you smile at the expression he sends you. “but you have to actually try to sleep in the meantime.”

“will you come back here and lie with me?”

you press a kiss to his lips. “of course.”

“okay.” he closes his eyes, but the arm around your waist doesn’t let go. “don’t be gone too long.”

“i won’t.”

you don’t untangle yourself from him until you hear his breathing change. it’s always weird to notice how tired he is whenever you have mornings like this, to know that if his sleeping self wasn’t acutely aware of movement from you, he probably would’ve slept away the day.

and you would gladly let him.

you take kkuma out for an hour. seungcheol is still asleep when you get back, but maybe lighter than you thought as the moment you climb back into bed, his arms open and pull you close. his lips find your neck and he presses against it, but never once does he open his eyes.

or, not until kkuma decides to say hi to her dad with kisses.

boo talks (again)

thank you so much for reading!

[harry-sussex]

The media has branded Harry and Meghan a “flop” - there’s no coming back from that reputation.

That WSJ article just made my stomach drop. I have no idea how it’s possible that things have gotten this bad. The worst part is that there’s no way up from here - only further down. Rock bottom is a challenge at this point, and it feels like they’re shooting for it every single day.

This is what they wanted? This is better? They’re happy? No fucking way, man. No fucking way. If I know anything about Harry at all - and at this point, we all know Harry a bit too well - he must be outright miserable. There’s no way this whole thing has been worth it. None whatsoever. To someone like me, this is nauseating. I hate it. I hate this. I have always hated this, I always knew that they weren’t going to live the life they thought they would after they left, I’ve been saying for three years until I’m blue in the face - and the reception I’ve gotten from Sussex fans around the world has been horrific (you guys should see some of the shit that’s come through my inbox courtesy of the squad - so much for mental health, Harry and Meghan would be ashamed of them, but I digress).

If you give even a sliver of a shit about Harry, you’ll be able to get your head out of the sand and recognize that leaving was the absolute worst thing he could have done for himself. Look at him! Directionless! Lost! Misguided! Unproductive! Not to mention paranoid, tired, isolated, and he fact that he always looks miserable.

I will say it again and again and again - it. did. not. have. to. be. this. way. 3 years in - what do they have to show for it?:

A successful commercial venture? Nope - almost nothing has come out of Archetypes or anything else, as in the article. Bill Simmons called them “fucking grifters!” If he’s willing to say it loud and proud for the media to pounce on, how many are saying it behind closed doors?

More money? Their income hinges upon content they haven’t created yet. Clearly, these companies have no trouble pulling the plug on their deals and therefore cutting off the income. (Not for nothing - the more this happens, the less money they’ll be able to say they grossed by leaving the royal family. Since this looks like a trend, at what point do they stop and say ‘I probably would have more money at my disposal if I just stuck with the Duchy of Cornwall?’)

More exposure? Yeah, I guess, but look how shitty it is all the time. This is not the kind of exposure they were looking for.

More privacy? Totally goes against everything above, but they’ve never been more vulnerable to intrusive speculation. They invite it! Encourage it! Hand their personal lives over to the media and the public on a silver platter! The only thing keeping them ‘private’ is living in a gated community - imagine how private their personal life would be if they were in a palace instead?

Better treatment from the press? The American media are vultures too. The world media has made a fortune off of their bullshit. Even the gently critical ones that tell the hard truth - like the WSJ - show that the media does not care who you are if you deserve the criticism or if your bullshit is so completely out of this world that the story writes itself. Nothing is sacred, and it’s even worse now that there’s nothing standing in between them and the press.

The opportunity to provide universal service? What the hell have they done? One single Invictus Games? The occasional event? The occasional donation? They spend more time accepting awards for doing something rather than actually doing something!

Being happier? Bullshit, man. Look at Prince Harry. He hasn’t had a genuine smile on his face in public since 2021. I could go down a rabbit hole here, but you’re blinded by adoration if you can’t recognize he’s outright miserable and a complete shell of the person he used to be. That spark is completely gone.

I could go on, but these articles are starting to pop up in legitimate news sources. We’re not talking about the National Enquirer here - this is the Wall Street Journal. A legitimate news source is reporting on the way they’re failing to meet their own standards and the standards of those who control the purse strings - and how they’re nothing without their titles. If the money is the bottom line, then they need the star power behind their HRHs to make it. They don’t have anything else worth marketing. That star power is dwindling more and more as they get closer and closer to rock bottom and as they continue to bite the hand that has always fed them. Look at this from Vanity Fair:

So much for “service is universal.” They don’t get traction for any of their charity work because they spend so much time BITCHING. The world can’t focus on their service and help support those causes because they spend so much FUCKING TIME milking their only cash cow that nobody has any idea what kinds of causes they support! In fact - I’d bet that the only causes recognized by the general public are those they SUPPORTED BY WORKING FOR THE FAMILY. This isn’t about service - it’s about clout, star power, mystique, and the aura associated with the blurred lines between royal and celebrity. The service hasn’t been part of it for a long time. They’ve wronged their ship and there’s no way to right it anymore. That ship, for lack of better term, has sailed. The world doesn’t see them as charitable - the way they were seen when they were working for the family. The world sees them as washed up crybabies who don’t have anything to offer. It’s not just a “hater” thing anymore. They’ve lost their allure and that was the only thing they had going for them. Without that allure, they’re nothing compared to the Hollywood lights.

They’ve completely fucked up. I know it, you know it, Hollywood knows it, the Royal Family knows it. Harry and Meghan are the only people on earth who haven’t figured it out. They haven’t done a single thing they planned since leaving. They’re not happier, they don’t live a more private life, they don’t have more bandwidth to do charity work, they’re not making money hand over fist, they’re not successful in their new endeavors… they’ve completely fucked up.

Harry, in particular, has completely fucked up. He gave up a life of structure, service, wealth, luxury, success, protection, guidance, family, friendship for… this? And he’s pretending that it was the best decision he ever made? Please. He fucked up, and it will continue to come back to bite him day in and day out until he learns to sit down, shut up, get some help, and hire some competent people to make shit happen for him, because clearly he cannot direct the ship on his own.

This is not how it was supposed to be - not for us as fans, nor for them after leaving. It did not have to be this way. I’d bet anything that the part of Harry who wanted this is dwindling more and more each day. Someday, he’s going to regret the whole thing. The more I see him and hear him, the more I think he’s already there. He fucked up, and I think he’s finally on his way to realizing that they have to do something to make the world interested in them beyond their association with the family. That will diminish, and then they’ll really be shit out of luck.

What a complete and utter disaster, Henry. What a mess. With all due respect, Your Royal Highness - you fucked up.

[meowcatsposts]

Better [Werewolf bf]

╰► warning: mentions of stalking and kidnapping

Overview

You get kidnapped by a werewolf, basically

(But don't worry, he has your best interests at heart)

“You deserve better,” he murmured, rough voice raspy from the lack of use. His copper eyes bore into yours, so icily striking yet fiery warm. “You really do.”

Argos was his name, you learned–the hound-human who captured you. He had an unruly and dark but smooth mane for hair, and his complexion was rather pale, like white lilies under waning moonlight. Ropes of lean muscle undulated beneath his milky skin as he scrounged for something in a heap of bones. He kept his “treasures” hidden there.

From the ghoulish pile he produced yet another skull–a dog skull. Hollowed dead eyes stared back at you as he put the piece of bone in front of your eyes, and you suppressed a small scream. Were you going to end up like this?

“You’re scared,” Argos said, dark eyebrows drawing together. “I didn’t mean to do that…” 

He paused to look you in the eyes once more, as if checking a wounded bird. Then he continued–after encapsulating your hand in his larger, rougher one. They were warm, like a hot cup of tea.

“This could have been me, a long time ago,” Argos trailed, rotating the dog skull and tilting his head to see its void eyes, too. “Neglected, starved, dead…” He set the skull down with a soft clunk. “I’ve watched you, and I see it in you, too. The people around you don’t see your worth, do they? They treat you like vermin, from what I see–something to never befriend, something to never worship.” Suddenly his eyes burned dark, a moon in a solar eclipse. A guttural growl escaped his parted lips. “And I’ve seen you cry by yourself…with no one to cry on…”

Then, gazing into your eyes like a pet who lovingly sidles up to its owner, he asked, “Was it lonely?”

You hadn’t noticed the hot tears searing your eyelids nor the blurred Argos in front of you, who held both of your hands in both of his. It was so unnerving and creepy and freaky that a hound-human like him stalked you, but at the same time it was so fuzzy and gentle and warm that it made your heart clench. Oh, how you wished for a genuine connection–a connection of trust and love and nothing else. But alas, thick ropes of human connections strangle you, leaving you breathless and choking, raw and bruised. 

Did Argos understand? Perhaps he did, because with a small smile he wiped your tears away with his thumb, murmuring soft ‘it’s ok’ s, or ‘I’ll be with you now’ s. 

“Yeah…it was lonely,” you croaked. “How do you know?”

Argos said nothing, just held you close. 

You had just returned from a hangout, rather large, consisting of several friends. A part of you was happy you went, but another whole was glad to be far, far away from that suffocating setting. Sure, everyone was cordial and bubbly and kind, but they knew each other more than you did. So you were left to drift by yourself most of the time, left to gaze upon tightly-knit trios and duos who were talking and smiling. One, as a joke, called you something foul–but apologized later on for potentially hurting your feelings. 

Minutes dragged into hours, and you soon grew exhausted by the continuous chatter that you couldn’t keep up with–or really be a part of. It was an odd number of people anyway, you told yourself. It’d be natural for someone like yourself to be floating. So you excused yourself, before you grew too sick. (Not like the others really cared, right, though they waved and said cheery ‘bye!’ s to you.)

Currently in the shower, fresh tears streamed down your wet cheeks. Why were you crying, again? Was it relief? Was it hurt? What was it, anyway?

All you knew, though, was that it felt good to cry.

Argos heard your soft sobs and whimpers bounce off the ambient shower walls. 

Every. 

Single. 

One. 

Heck, he even heard you blow your nose every so often, probably because you were crying so much. His sharp ears flattened on his head and he prowled around in endless circles, large paws making no sound on the prickly grass. His tail dangled limply and his thick fur bristled against the chilly fall breeze. 

Why did your outing have to turn so bitter? he wondered. Why did you always have to end up like this?

Argos saw how bright your hopeful eyes looked, only for it to drain drain drain away until your once beautiful eyes turned nearly dull. It reminded him of when he was infested by maggots–lying limply on cold stone, life slowly draining from his eyes. It took all of his resolve not to whisk you right away, into his humble little shack. At least he could provide you with warmth there. He would protect you–love you–unlike those unappreciative posers. There were too many of that kind, he thought bitterly.

Argos gazed blankly at the dimly lit road. It was good that it was dark; he melted into the shadows. No one to see him. No one to hear him.

“Argos, do you think I’m selfish?” you asked the now-hound male, whose large head was on your lap. Argos rumbled his throat as if to say, ‘No, you are not.’

Your fingers glided through his dense, black fur. It had been quite a while now, since he claimed you as his. Perhaps it’d been a few months now, maybe more. And your former home? Argos told you not to worry about it–apparently it’d been taken care of. How, though, you didn’t know. 

Argos treated you quite well; you were his royalty, after all. He fed you your favorite meals and snacks, gave you space (to some extent–you couldn’t leave the premises), and drowned you in his affections. When he was a wolf he licked and nipped gently at your skin, and provided you with his fur to play with. When he was human he embraced you and napped with you, and loved to kiss you–sometimes on the forehead, sometimes on the lips, but mostly on the neck, right where your heartbeat was. His kisses were usually light and sweet, a stark contrast to his brooding eyes and glacial complexion.

“Mmh, Argos,” you mumbled, resting your hands on his lean pale arms. 

Argos, on the other hand, was resting his hands on your hips, caging you between his body and a wall. His lips trailed up and down your neck, peppering it with sweet kisses. His copper eyes smoldered with heat, and his body was no different; you thought you would burn under his touch. You knew you couldn’t escape, either, since he was so big; he made you feel so small, somehow, like prey caught by a predator.

“You’re not telling me to stop, are you?” Argos stated; the way his voice lowered by octaves, clearly, it wasn’t a question.

As your breath hitched in your throat, he chuckled, eyes fluttering up to meet yours. They really looked like melted copper now, dissolved by his primal instincts–to press you into the wall…pin your wrists above your head…ravage you until dawn. But somehow, he managed to push them back to the depths of his hungry core, sticking to pressing soft kisses all over your exposed skin.

Feeling a little awkward just standing there, you slipped your fingers through his dark hair and played with the thick strands and massaged his scalp. Argos groaned faintly, just under his breath; you felt it on your skin–hot and needy. 

Getting a surge of confidence you murmured in his ear, “Do you like it?”

Argos just pressed you harder against the hard wooden walls, eliciting a cute squeak from you. (He made sure not to hurt you, though, because he knew just how easily you’d break.) It wasn’t the first time he tossed you around like a ragdoll. He loved how your eyes widened with fear, how your lips parted, how your breath became ragged and uneven; it made his blood burn with adrenaline. 

“I do,” Argos replied gruffly, “but let’s not forget about who’s pinned against the wall, now…”

Sometimes, you hated the man for his cockiness; it dripped off of him like a pungent perfume. 

But he was all you could ever ask for…

So why not stay with him?

yellow dividers from: firefly-graphics

[themiracleofteddybearmanifestos]

I know I'm late to the party but I just watched Aristotle and Dante Discover the Secrets of the Universe and I have a LOT of thoughts.

I think this was a terrible adaptation.

I think it was a beautifully produced and well acted movie, and maybe without having read the book it would have been fine, but no matter how hard I tried I couldn't separate it from its source material because some of the changes were just horrible.

I know you can't keep everything in, that's fine. You cut some things, you rearrange some stuff, you fit within your runtime. But why change some of the most crucial/beautiful moments? I have a long, long list of quotes that were either removed or just horribly altered/misplaced and it's so disappointing.

Getting rid of Mrs. Quintana grasping Ari's face and saying, "Aristotle Mendoza, I will love you forever" is so sad. Changing what Gina said, that Ari says is the "nicest thing you ever said to me" to be something totally mundane (essentially changed "you got hunkier" to "you look different") is just an odd choice. But changing the way Ari reacts to kissing Dante? That's horrible.

Ari was done horribly in this movie, I'm sorry. The actor did great and he was lovely in certain moments, but they took out what made him shine. I have a friend who said they didn't like the book because Dante deserved so much better, and I disagreed. Book Ari has moments where he's an asshole, but at his core he is a kind and loving boy who is grateful and appreciative. Film Ari is a sometimes sweet boy who is more often than not just rude.

I can understand some changes have to be made when adapting a first person POV novel, that's fair, but you can absolutely use body language and other visual cues to give insight. This is especially clear with Ari's dad, who in the book is understandably difficult for Ari to get along with. He's distant and intimidating and doesn't want to be open. But in the movie he just seems like a sad dad trying his best to talk to his teenage son, and Ari is completely rude and cold to him for no apparent reason! Film Ari does not thank or hug his parents when they give him a car. Film Ari does not say goodnight to his father or listen when his father wants to show him a painting. Idk exactly how that all plays out in the book since I forget a lot, but the important thing is that all we are shown is his father trying and Ari being rude in response. His motivation is unclear and his behavior is selfish.

Now, one of the biggest crimes is what happens in the truck after Dante and Ari kiss. First off, change of location from Dante's room to the truck ... Okay sure. But I have no idea how you can first off, totally alter this scene and omit a very important quote:

"I don’t kiss boys.” “Okay, so the first rule is: No trying to kiss Ari.”

"You have the harder rule? Buffalo shit... I, on the other hand, have to refrain from kissing the greatest guy in the universe—which is like walking barefoot on hot coals." (Pgs 256-257)

And then completely and entirely warp this scene:

So I closed my eyes.

And he kissed me. And I kissed him back.

And then he started really kissing me. And I pulled away.

"Well?" he said.

"Didn't work for me," I said.

"Nothing?"

"Nope."

"Okay. It sure worked for me."

"Yeah. I think I get that, Dante."

"So, well, that's over with then, huh?"

"Yeah."

"Are you mad at me?"

"A little."

He sat back down on his bed. He looked sad. I didn't like seeing him that way. "I'm more mad at myself," I said. "I always let you talk me into things. It's not your fault."

"Yeah," he whispered.

"Don't cry, okay?"

"Okay," he said.

"You're crying."

"I'm not."

"Okay."

"Okay." (Pgs. 263-264)

HOW do you turn that into Ari calling Dante disgusting and screaming at him to get the fuck out of his car??? That's the fucking breaking point for me, because Ari is a lot of things, but an outright aggressive homophobe is not one of them. Maybe I'm forgetting, and maybe something similar happens later and they just rearranged it. But I know for a FACT that Ari NEVER calls Dante disgusting. Never. Because the word disgusting appears once in this book and Gina says it to Ari. That's it, not a single other usage.

That's what broke it for me, even though I had a lot of issues with other parts (Ari not saying thank you about the truck, removing the shoe-throwing game, getting rid of so much important dialogue, etc.) THIS is the thing that was unacceptable because even when Ari was mad at Dante, he didn't hurt him. He didn't immediately go back on his loyalty he'd just sworn, to stay by Dante even though he's gay. He didn't scream at him or curse him.

But I also just couldn't stand how much of the beautiful writing was completely removed. I love that book because it's poetic and full of quips and oddities. Dante in the movie is cute and sweet, but the oddest thing shown about him is that he wears silly sunglasses. We're told he's weird, and get little glimpse of it, but the heart of Dante is not there. In the book he feels a little mystified and hard to fully grasp, but in the movie he's just... There. A shell, almost. He's still lovable, but he's not wholly Dante. It's like an afterimage of Dante, which is impressive because he was very personable in the movie, but that just shows how enchanting Dante is in the book. He's hard to pin down, but he's not hollow. I think a big issue was that a lot of the time, Dante seemed hurt by Ari. Genuinely disheartened, rather than laughing it off until he couldn't anymore, he was kind of just sad? I don't know. We had the bones of something beautiful with this movie, really, but they just didn't do it right.

Again, the loss of the poeticism and the changes to Ari are what hurt it the most. Movie Ari has very sweet moments where the book character shines through, but he takes himself too seriously in a way where it feels like we're supposed to as well. Ari is lame! He's an awkward teenager with a lot of angst because he's figuring things out and struggling to find his place in the universe, but movie Ari isn't that at all. He's just brooding and downright mean at times. His reactions to the things around him were so hollow and uncaring, and maybe that's how he looked from the outside, but again, this story was not told from the outside and completely loses it's effect when you can't tell what he's feeling or thinking because he just seems mad or disinterested. Not all the time, there were some incredible scenes. I loved him talking with his parents after he beat up Julian. I loved the final scene with the kiss. I think his reaction worked well when hearing about his aunt's girlfriend. But damnit that was lost to me the moment he called the most brilliant boy he'd ever met "disgusting."

Overall, I don't regret watching the movie and I loved some of the scenes and think the music and atmosphere were great. But I'm heartbroken over the fact that so much of the nuance was completely lost. Even if there was some nuance present in the movie, it was far, far less than in the book.

(Less structured bonus points because this rant was messy enough but I have more to say): Dante told him not to open the sketchbook until he was gone. In the movie Ari opened it right up and made a kind of rude comment. Next: so many important bonding moments were removed. Dante giving Ari a sponge bath and them visiting with each other every day Ari was in the hospital. The shoes were significantly played down to the point where the sentimentality of the little shoes was almost lost. Also: The letters were so entirely diminished. And: Ari's brother killed two people, not just the trans woman but also someone in jail. Bro I haven't read this book in multiple years and I'm able to recount this much, I don't even want to think about how glaringly off it all is when I've read the whole book to compare. (If any of my points were wrong, I blame this. But I'm pretty sure most of them are right.)

I loved the end of the movie tho lol I'm always a sucker for a sweet scene and Dante's actor killed it with the eye acting in that scene, the emotions were palpable.

[thenameisgul]

The thing with Castiel is that he had a lot of storylines that had potential to develop, but were cut short for whatever reason I don't understand: like Godtiel, humancas. For example, with humancas, an entire season could be devoted to exploiting that, it could be a separate storyline unrelated to Sam or Dean, he could meet other angels and have to solve problems himself. etc. But no, they abandoned it after a few episodes, for what? to make Dean not look like an asshole for abandoning Cas when he was most vulnerable, so as not to divert the audience's attention away from two brothers? I have a feeling the writers kept Cas/Misha around because of his popularity with fans, but never gave him the status he deserved for a character with so much potential and importance to the story line. I'm only in ss10 and heard that Cas is treated even worse in the later seasons, I don't know if I should continue watching or not.

if there's one thing I realized pretty early on when I was finally watching season 7 after a decade long break, was that in the Supernatural universe, there was no other character that was as interesting and multifaceted as Castiel.

The second thing I realized was that it was not a very good thing for the showrunners to have a supporting character be like that when your entire show revolves around two brothers.

The reason they killed off Castiel in early season 7 was because they wanted the show to go back to being about Sam and Dean and with Apocalypse over, they didn't know what to do with Castiel. But clearly, he was too popular and they brought him back because the network itself told them to bring him back.

Now, a good writer would've been able to find a balance to keep Cas' story relevant and entangled with the Winchesters, as they did in season 6 but with Kripke leaving the show and new management in the writer's room, that didn't happen.

I almost, almost get it? Like, you have your story, you have your lead characters and people love them but suddenly you bring a supporting character who becomes an instant fan favorite, who's, debatably, a lot more interesting because of the history you gave him but never intended to explore and now he's sticking around so you just don't know what to do to make him not take over the narrative? You make him weak.

Cas couldn't have stayed the badass, powerful angel who's lived for a millennia because then that'll require the show to have villians even more powerful than that to be any competition and that leaves the Winchesters irrelevant.

So they tamed him down alot, which in itself wouldn't have been such a bad thing, especially if they went with the human!cas arc for longer like you said but to do that would've meant they couldn't use Cas as an easy way out of all winchester's problems and they needed that too so 🤷‍♀️

My main problem with all of that, mostly comes from the fact that, and I may be wrong here, but it seemed like the writers actively resented misha/castiel for being popular. Like he was, in misha's words "a foil to the boys" and while the writers couldn't let him go because the show would lose ratings, they actively diminished him. The random demeaning comments about Castiel from other characters, especially, from dean seemed a little too pointed. Not to mention how the producers actually publicly said 'misha wasnt a good actor' when he's literally one of the best actors on the show!

So yeah, if supernatural had better writers, or atleast if they kept hold of the good ones (because there were some good ones) they could've given Cas and the show a better story.

I hate to say it but they did it to Sam too. Sam was such an complex character but they just stopped trying after a while with his character. So I guess it was a theme with these writers.

And as a Castiel fan, its frustrating, I gotta say that. But you know what the best part is? that no matter what they did, how dumb the storyline they gave him he still came out as the most interesting character every time. So there you go.

So I'd say watch the show, its really good when it gets good or maybe just open Misha's page on Supernatural wiki and only watch his episodes if that's your thing because tbh, you wouldn't miss much if you left the rest. lol