#you know how easy it is for me to get bored? in a theater????????

[xekstrin]

I watched The Fall Guy yesterday

— this movie is on the same tier as The Mummy for me now and The Mummy is one of my favorite movies (i still think the mummy might be better though)

— Ryan Gosling plays the PERFECT sap in love. Ryan Gosling sitting in his car crying his eyes out while listening to Taylor Swift nearly had ME in tears of laughter

— i normally despise “self-aware” jabs from movies that know they’re movies but somehow this one got under my defenses and I loved it?????

— I WAS MADE FOR LOVING YOU BABY

— I haven’t seen a series of stunts this insane since the Bourne Identity and this movie might have eclipsed it. It’s a movie about a stunt man so the movie is about STUNTS. They could have wrapped it up at any point and I would have been satisfied but they kept upping the ante FOR NO REASON EXCEPT TO DELIGHT ME PERSONALLY and the fights were so well choreographed and edited i never was like “huh?”

— the dog lives and is never harmed even once

— good believable villain

— DID I MENTION THE STUNTS GO SO HARD IT’S INSANE

— is it momoa or mamoa?

— I BELIEVE IN A THING CALLED LOVE, JUST LISTEN TO THE RYTHM OF MY HEART

— “Do the aliens believe in, ah, private conversations?” “No.”

— Right as I was thinking “for a movie that makes such amazing use of it’s action star cast, it’s disappointing that Emily Blunt isn’t….”

— OH MY GOD IT’S EMILY BLUNT WITH THE STEEL CHAIR

[bloompompom]

Drive-In Distraction

Tonight's horror movie double-feature won't be the only thing that has you wanting to scream

✩ content: ~5.6k word count. eren jaeger x female reader. modern au, established relationship, porn without plot, fluff, teasing, oral sex (m!receiving), PIV sex, public sex, quiet sex, exhibitionism, slight overstimulation, come fucking, dirty talk, praise, spit, explicit sexual content, explicit language. reader discretion advised. 18+ only

“Eren!”

The scold left you in a harsh whisper, only after you realized where his hand was venturing. Once innocently on your thigh, giving you sweet intermittent squeezes, now traveling higher and higher. 

This was not the place to start fooling around with each other.

Earlier that day, Eren tossed you the idea of going to the drive-in theater, said it was the perfect activity for the season since they were showing a late-night horror movie double-feature. 

‘Those still exist?’ you asked him. He gave you some sarcastic answer—‘No, I just made it up for fun’—before the two of you were throwing all the pillows and blankets you could find into the trunk of his hatchback. 

Eren had pushed the backseats down until they were flat, and you made a makeshift bed, laying out an old duvet first then layering on the rest. It ended up being comfy, at least enough to cuddle up and watch back-to-back movies together.

But you hadn’t even gotten halfway through the first one before Eren started getting antsy, which in hindsight, you probably should have seen coming. 

“What? I’m not doing anything,” your boyfriend lilted, that familiar chime of amusement ringing through his voice. It was the tell-tale sign he was trying to fluster you, and he knew he was succeeding.

But he couldn’t help himself; you were too easy to play with. 

Despite your warning glare, Eren’s fingers settled in the crease of your thigh. He traced over it, feeling the band of your underwear beneath your leggings. 

“C’mon, I’m bored.”

“We’ve been here, like, thirty minutes. How could you possibly be bored already?”

He hummed, straightening out in his seat to snake an arm between your back and the pillows. He hooked his chin on your shoulder.

“You’re distracting me.”

This was his plan from the start, wasn’t it? You wanted to say it was unbelievable, but it was anything but. Either way, you didn’t stop the giggle that left you; a little one, and only because you thought his flagrant attempts at flattery were endearing. 

“How?” you challenged, knowing damn well you haven’t done anything besides watch the movie and debate if you were up for the hike to the concession stand on the opposite side of the lot. 

“Because you’re so cute—” Eren cajoled.

His breath warmed the side of your neck as he inched even closer. The tip of his nose fit into the dip beneath your ear as he nuzzled into you.

“—And pretty.”

His lips met your skin and a spark skipped down your spine. You shivered, unable to hold it back. Eren gave a wry chuckle as he smoothed over your thigh reassuringly. It was teasing but gentle, irritatingly soft. After another kiss, you finally allowed your eyes to flutter shut. 

His lips—then his tongue—were hot as he left lazy kisses, as many as if he were dotting the night sky, taking as much time as he pleased despite being in the open trunk of his car. Not a single inch of you, from the lobe of your ear to your collarbone, went neglected.

You dug a palm into the billows of blankets to keep upright. You had tunnel vision to Eren and only Eren. The movie playing through the radio was white noise, buzzing beneath the drumming of your heart. Your tiny breaths sharpened as you tried to wrangle in the oxygen to bring your head back to Earth.

“Eren.” When you said his name this time, it wasn’t a hiss. It was flimsy on your exhale, nearly dying on your tongue. He shushed you with soft coos murmured into the crook of your neck. 

As your head tipped to one side, Eren caught your jaw, holding you there as he licked and sucked and nipped. He was only kissing you, not even on your mouth, and already you felt helpless to him. He had wrapped you up in that sensual minute, or ten, or maybe an entire hour—you didn’t know. You were lost in the tangle of pillows and blankets, twisting the fabric between your fist as if it would ground you. The inky night had swaddled you, with only the old projector ahead illuminating your ever-trembling body. 

Eren’s eager hand continued surveying you, exploring down the hollow of your collarbone to your chest, as if he hadn’t touched these parts of you countless times before. His hand followed the curve of your breast tentatively, waiting to see what reaction it’d elicit from you.

When he expected a swatted hand, he was only gifted a wordless sound, almost like a purr. His smirk seared into the thin skin of your neck as he teased your breast. He reveled in how your body reacted to him, sensitive to his touch even through your top; your nipple perking between his fingers and the patter of your heart against his palm. He craved nothing more than to strip you of it, free you of it so he could feel your softness with nothing in between. This would have to do for now. 

He decided to push his luck anyway, his hand straying further, lower. Your sternum, your stomach…

Your shoulder scrunched to your ear in a flinch. “I don’t know, Eren. Maybe we should wait until we’re home.”

“I don’t wanna wait that long,” he breathed against you. He couldn’t wait that long, not now. Not with the way his cock was already straining against his sweatpants, aching to feel you, any way you’d let him. 

Every word was laced with desire, burning hot against your ear. They pooled in the low part of your stomach and dripped down to your toes. With every raspy syllable, Eren’s voice faded as his need overtook him. Despite your nervous squirming—and your better judgment—your legs began to spread, making room for his hand to cup between your legs.

He only touched you through your leggings at first, but he could still feel your heat, the shake in your thighs when he pressed down, right on your clit. Already, you had sucked in your lip, muffling whatever sound wanted to escape. It was so cute, how easily you folded for him. 

Once he stuck his hand beneath, bypassing your underwear entirely, you shuddered when his fingers met your bare skin. Not because they were cold; you expected cold. They were warm, his skin already ablaze with arousal as he brushed the tips of his fingers over you, through you, but never daring to dip further. It would be easy, if he wanted to, what with how wet you were after just a few strategic neck bites. But he wanted to tease you. Just a little. 

Eren pinched your chin, angling you for another kiss. There was a certain stiffness about you, only in your lips; the rest of you couldn’t stay still. Between kisses and your little gasps, you whispered, “We’re going to get caught.”

“That’s what makes it fun.”

On sheer coincidence (or the universe’s knack for impeccable timing), a blood-curdling shriek blared through the radio and tore straight through the tension in the car. You lurched forward, sitting up as tall as if a teacher had smacked your desk while nodding off—or if someone had caught you with your boyfriend’s hand down your pants. 

“Someone’s jumpy,” Eren poked. You dropped your hand from your chest, ready to shove him away, when he held your face again. He brought you back to him in an attempt to quell your rampant anxiety. “Seriously, no one’s gonna come this way. Don’t worry.”

Your eyes flitted from his face, to the screen, then back to him. Through squished cheeks, you asked, “Promise?”

“I promise.”

He punctuated it with a kiss on the tip of your nose, then one on your lips. He tilted into you with his hand curving around the back of your head. Immediately, you were his, opening your mouth and tempting his tongue to find yours. 

His fingers effortlessly return to your clit. He began to rub circles, slow at first, feeling how soft you were, how your swollen, needy pussy gave beneath. You started to pant harder against him, your moving lips growing erratic. He tightened his circles, quickening them and playing your body as though it were an instrument he’d mastered, knowing which touches had you quivering and which had you whining—most importantly, which would make you come the quickest. 

Your hips wiggled against his hand, angling and trying to get more out of him. You wanted him inside you, and you wanted it badly.

As you expected, you felt his breathy laugh against your mouth. “See? Not so scary now, is it?”

Even if you were to humor the question, you wouldn’t have had the chance to before he parted you and pushed a finger inside. A small sound left you, again when he began to drag his finger in and out of you, curling it just the right way. You had to stay quiet. Your throat tightened, desperate to keep your tiny whines from turning into bleats bursting from your chest. You were only capable of a whisper of, “More,” mumbly and wet against his mouth. 

Eren maintained his composure, smartly asking, “Feels good, huh?”

He already knew the answer; he didn’t need to ask. He only did it for his own benefit, pining to hear it come from you. To take in the sounds of your croons and cries as you plead for him again and tuck them away for later. 

He didn’t wait for your answer; he didn’t have the restraint for it. Eren inserted a second finger, always willing to please his girlfriend, giving her whatever she wanted, even when she was an incoherent mess—especially when she was an incoherent mess. 

Once he did, he could practically taste the lust on your tongue, delving deeper and spilling into his mouth. The kiss, if one could call it that, turned shameless clumsy, his fingers pumping until he reached the pace that had you fluttering around his knuckles. 

You were lost in a swirl of heady breaths, the air of the trunk growing thick and coiling around you with your lower half sweltering under the blankets. Still, you managed to lift them and reach a hand beneath, caressing over the top of Eren’s thigh. The muscle tensed as you went, grazing up his leg just as he had with you.

You palmed over the front of his sweats, again when you realized how hard he had been for you. His abdomen flexed and relaxed. There was a delicious relief in your touch, even if plenty of layers still separated you. Too many for Eren’s liking. 

Riled up beyond belief, it only took a few chaste strokes before Eren was lifting his hips to meet you, instinctively working his cock against your hand in search of more pressure—more anything. 

Of course, the heavy petting was fun, but think of how much more fun you could have. Not fooling and fumbling like teenagers who snuck into an R-rated movie, but upping the ante, seeing truly how far you could go without getting caught. 

A little risk never scared him off before.

Eren pulled away to catch his breath, smiling at you all big with this wicked look on his face; the look of a winner. He had taken you by both wrists and dragged you along with him, following wherever he led you. In his hands, you were like putty or dough or clay—you were no more than something waiting to be warmed and molded in whichever way he desired, crafted to fit him and only him. 

But you were more than willing. And luckily for you, Eren was just as malleable in your delicate hands. Neither of you could turn back now, even if you wanted to. 

The flashing screen cast a cool light on the side of your face, catching the sheen of your bottom lip. What was left of your kiss was wiped away by Eren as he thumbed over it.

“You wanna do this?” he asked, still with that same sideways grin. 

You nodded excitedly, emphasized it by tugging down his waistband. His hands only left you to help, one shuffling his sweatpants lower while the other expertly held the blanket over your laps. 

The blanket was fleecy and thick, opaque enough to block out any lights. You could barely see a thing, but you do make out the way his cock slapped against his lower abs once you had his boxers down. You reached for him, your heart skipping a beat as your eyes flickered to the screen, then downward once more. Not a soul in sight—or at least, you weren’t in their sights. 

You took him in your hand and even that, the feeling of your fingertips grazing him, made his breathing stutter. When you wrapped your fingers around him, slightly tightening your grip, you only had to pump a few slow times before you thought you could feel his heartbeat in his cock. 

Eren lifted the blanket high enough to steal a peek at your hand on him. He watched the fluid movement of your wrist, up and down, quickening after you thumbed over his tip, slick with precome. 

He couldn’t think of a time he’d been this turned on by a hand job, probably not since his first one. Each time his eyelids lidded, he’d have to force them back open to scan the surroundings, just in case. You were a bit preoccupied to care, his hand back where it belonged as he fucked you with his fingers. It made it hard for you to focus on much else, your jaw already falling ever so slack. 

Even Eren had to admit the inherent risk had his heart thumping faster. But unlike you, it didn’t frighten him. It exhilarated him. He found himself already fighting back the urge to come from the thrill alone. All the while, you had this nervous tremble in your hand, as if you were this innocent little thing; he knew better than to believe that. Still, he found you extremely endearing, only making it harder for him to not pin you down and ruin you right there. Imagine how cute you would look if you were to really get caught.

Each time he stuffed his fingers inside you fully, your steady hand would stagger. Your effort was put towards jerking him off, but your concentration faltered so effortlessly; you were never one for multitasking. Especially when Eren’s huffs through his nose turned ragged each time you paid extra attention to the tip of his cock, palming and squeezing gently. 

“God, I wanna taste you so badly right now,” Eren exhaled. His cock throbbed at the thought.

You tried to respond, but his fingers were unrelenting, thick and dragging against your walls in a way you could only describe as lewd. The pace, the sound—the fact that the crotch of your leggings was soaked through. 

“Ah-hah.” You swallowed hard. “A-absolutely not. People will see.”

You didn’t know how it would even work in such a tight space—with plenty of head bumps and leg cramps, you supposed. 

“Hm,” Eren muttered, seemingly unhappy with your answer. His fingers slipped from you, collected some of your wetness, then began flicking over your clit. It yanked another sound from you, absolutely pathetic and ripped from the very depths of your throat. 

His fingers were drenched in your arousal, smooth and slick, trained on your undoing. He stopped short of it, slithering his hand from your leggings and bringing them to your mouth. 

“Guess this will have to do,” he told you just before sucking them, savoring your sweetness on his tongue, “until we get home.”

Eren’s brazen ways never ceased to ruffle you. Your cheeks flared hot, even more once he wrapped his wetted fingers around his length, jerking himself off. Making a show of it, too. The slippery sound of him coating his cock with you, darkened eyes locked onto yours. Little groans fell from him, lips slightly parted like he was high off you. 

Ripples of electricity pulsed through you, encouraged you, while your thighs could only clench at the sight. He didn’t even need to touch you for you to fall apart. But just because he couldn’t touch you the way he wanted—couldn’t taste you—didn’t mean you couldn’t. 

You perched to your knees and dove under the blanket. Before he could even blink, you had his cock upright in your hand, lapping up the length of it.

“Shit,” he hissed, way louder than he should have. 

You poked your head out, still playing with him in your hand. “This is why I didn’t want to do this.”

“I—sorry.” Eren’s voice was off-kilter, his hips twitching unwittingly with your lips mere centimeters from the tip of his cock. “I’ll shut up. Just—keep going. Please.”

You saw the needy look in his eye, and a smile crossed your face. You decided to steal from his bag of tricks, lightly pestering, “Gonna be quiet for me?”

You licked your lips before darting your tongue along his head. He groaned, first in annoyance, but it tapered into a fervorous sound, sultry to your ears. You gazed up at him with big eyes, lashes batting, and waited for him to say anything.

The sight of your pretty face, his cock against your pretty, pink tongue, had him muttering, “Fuck me.”

“Maybe later.” You winked and finally started to take him into your mouth. You heard the thud his head gave as it hit the back of the car seat. 

With every bob of your head, you swallowed more of him down your throat. It made your mouth water, had saliva dripping down the length of him and over your fist as you worked the base of his cock. 

You had your eyes shut and your attention fixed on Eren and nothing but Eren. Everything else might as well have faded to black. Your ears thrummed with the husky sound of his voice, whispering curses each time you wrapped your lips around him and hollowed your cheeks. You only felt his hand on you, fingertips tickling from between your shoulder blades to your tailbone. He palmed over your ass, groping the fat of it, and had you moaning around his cock. He must have felt it, the vibrating hum of your throat, because the blunt of his nails dug into your skin as if your leggings weren’t even there. 

You only popped up when you heard laughter. It was distant, but still enough to make your stomach drop.

“No one can see us right?” you asked through scarce breaths. You turned to look out, crooked your head from side to side, searching for any lurking eyes, but you only saw the cars parked in front of you, entirely unchanged. 

Eren leered down at you. Your eyes were wet; the corners of them caught what little light there was. Each time you blinked, a tear threatened to break your waterline as though it were a dam. There was spit on your chin, your lips were cock and kiss-swollen and slick, and dear God did he want to take a picture. 

He gulped, only mumbling a dazy, “You’re good.”

You decided to trust him. Before he knew it, you had him back in your mouth, right where you had left off. You focused on breathing through your nose to hold back a gag as you took as much of his length as you could. You swallowed and sucked, and each time he nudged the back of your throat, it’d tighten around him and make his stomach clench. And when your nose finally brushed against his pelvis, you felt him shiver, his hand balling the fabric of your shirt in his hand. 

This was when Eren would normally talk you through it. Sugar-coated praises sprinkled between all the dirty things he wanted you to do. Gag on it, choke on it, grunting while he fucked your mouth and babbling about you how beautiful you look while taking him, only him. Obscenities you shouldn’t love but did, each one always warming your chest with that fuzzy-duckling feeling, even though you were in the wolf’s clutches. You missed hearing him, but if you gagged now, it would be too loud, and Eren had already promised you he’d shut up. 

Honestly, you were impressed he could bite his tongue even this long. This was the most you’d ever seen him hold back; he was more so the give-it-his-all type, lacking any sort of restraint. You wouldn't think he’d ever heard of the word ‘self-control’ before—which was exactly why you never did anything like this in the past. Never fucking when his previous roommate was home or when you’d visit his parents, even if he begged for it. You knew you’d never be able to look them in the eyes afterward.

You were sure he was only quiet now, besides small groans and tight breaths, because the consequence was that his cock would lose the wet heat of your mouth. No, he couldn’t let himself go right now, not entirely, and it probably felt like a cruel trick he played on himself. 

But Eren didn’t need to say a single thing for you to know exactly what he was thinking. You could feel it in the way you held his eyes, like you were too captivating to look away. And whenever your hair fell and blocked his view—a view wouldn’t dare go a second without—he’d dotingly pet it away from your face. 

And you certainly didn’t need to question it when he breathed, “God, I fucking love you,” with his head thrown back in ecstasy, your name like a shiver surging through him. 

Then, the Eren you knew, and loved, returned. 

“Fuck, I need you.”

He said it as though he was submitting, like his carnal impulses had finally bested him—as if they already hadn’t from the moment he got handsy with you, kissing your neck.

He pulled you off his cock, and you choked for air in surprise. His hands immediately went for your leggings, removing them, along with your underwear, in one quick tug.

You squealed—for a lot of reasons, actually. The crisp night air against your bare skin. The lack of consideration he had for your whereabouts. You snatched the blanket to shield yourself, your eyes darting every which way to see if anyone noticed. 

Eren’s hands were heavy against the grooves of your skin, weighed down with hunger as he repositioned you to his liking. He had you straddling his lap in reverse, like he thought you wanted to watch the movie while he fucked you. 

“That way you can keep watch,” You could hear the cheeky grin in his voice, “so you don’t have to be so nervous.”

You half-laughed because it wasn’t much better at all. It only made you feel dirtier for what you were about to do. That wasn’t about to stop you, though. You could feel his cock, hot and glazed in your spit, against your thigh, and you could only think about how much you wanted it inside you. 

“What if the car starts to shake?” you asked.

His hands smoothed down your back until he pinched your ass. When you startled, he only chuckled, “Damn, how hard were you planning on going?”

Eren shoved a hand between your legs. He glided his fingers along your slit, relishing the little wiggle you gave in response. By the time the pads of his fingers met your clit, they were slick, rubbing and slipping against you. 

“Eren, please. We don’t have time for this,” you said, but it was hardly a warning. Your voice warbled, the end of it getting pitchy with pleasure. You could pretend all you wanted, but you loved it, every drawn-out second of it. 

He could imagine the look of anticipation on your face. You were probably gnawing on your bottom lip, your nose scrunching cutely every time he dared to dip inside you, but only because you were hoping it’d be his cock instead of his fingers. 

You had the blanket clutched to you, your grip tightening as he continued to toy with you. Shame heatedly prickled down your neck—shame for how utterly shameless you felt about the situation. 

Eren grabbed your ass with both hands, spreading you as he debated thrusting inside you then. He wanted nothing more than to give your cheek a resounding slap with an open palm. He opted for his cock instead, slapping the head of it against you a few times.

“You’re so fucking hot,” he murmured, almost as if he didn’t know if he was talking to you or himself. 

Your heart was hammering against your ribcage, so hard that you thought it wanted to break free. You were running on nothing but adrenaline, an intoxicating concoction of danger and being unbelievably turned on by said danger.

Eren always enjoyed the reaction he’d pull from you whenever he’d first slide his cock into you; it hadn’t changed since the first time you had sex. A sharp inhale through your nose, your mouth dropping into a tiny ‘O.’  Your eyes would squeeze close only to flutter back open, but he couldn’t see that part now. And if you could manage it, you’d grab onto him wherever you could. Tonight, you dug your nails into his left thigh. He hardly felt it, more transfixed on the way you tightened around the head of his cock. 

He waited for your clench to relax before sinking you down onto him, lower. Choppy moans left the both of you right when your ass was smushed against his pelvis, when he was buried inside you fully. And again, only from Eren, when you started to move before he could. 

You took him with long strokes, every inch of him dragging in and out of you with his tip nearly kissing your entrance before you’d repeat it, again and again. Your movements were far from smooth, your legs straining, and your breath still caught up in your throat. But once you realized nothing had changed—the movie was still playing, and not so much as a headlight flicked on—you began to bounce on your knees. 

It wasn’t long before the sound of sex began to reverberate off the walls and fill the cramped trunk. The salacious smacking of skin on skin, all those little pants spilling from you, ones you couldn’t stifle no matter how tightly you sealed your lips. So long as everyone still had their radios on, there was no way they could hear you. That was what you told yourself, repeating it with every roll of your hips. Even if they could, you couldn’t find it within you to stop now. 

Eren splayed a hand against your lower back, slipping it until it flattened against your stomach. He held you upright as you continued taking his cock; it looked less conspicuous that way, if that were even possible. 

The new angle stole a gasp from you, your release already building, a rapturous bloom you could feel in every part of your body. Your toes threatening to curl, thighs shaking like you had just run a marathon. Your shirt clung to you, your sweat like a film across your skin. Inside, you were on the verge of bursting into flames, but on the outside, goosebumps scattered your skin, your sweat like ice in the autumn air. It was almost too much. Too much, but so good. The only thing you could do was keep going with your hand sealed over your mouth. 

Of course it went to Eren’s head. He loved it, seeing you physically have to restrain yourself from crying out. But there would be time for that later, when you’d really need it while coming on his cock. Right now, he still wanted to hear you, see just how far he could bend you before you broke. 

He kept his voice low while he demanded, “Tell me who this pussy belongs to.” 

Your hand remained firmly over your mouth.

Eren wrapped his hand around your elbow and forced your arm to your side. You gave a short ‘ah,’ finally able to get a full breath. 

He asked again, “It’s all mine, right?”

“Yours,” you whispered, quiet, but Eren could still make out the whine in it. “Yours. It’s all yours.”

If you could see it, you would have smacked that lopsided smirk right off his face. Thankfully for him, you couldn’t. But that didn’t mean he didn’t want to look at you.

“I—shit,” he hissed, interrupted by another rock of your hips. He couldn’t bring himself to stop you, practically hypnotized by every jiggle of your ass, but after a couple of seconds passed, he continued, “Need to see you. C’mere.”

Eren lifted you off him, turning you as you swung your leg around to straddle him. You draped the blanket over your back, pinning one of its corners to your chest. 

He guided you back down on his cock with hands on your hipbones, thumbing small circles against you. 

When your eyes met, a smile warmed his face. “There’s my girl.”

He caressed your cheek with the back of his hand, with you nuzzling into him like a kitten. 

Eren led this time, holding you there for him to fuck into. He was slow at first, taking you with languid thrusts, letting himself readjust to you before he started pounding into you with hips rising off the floor. From there, well, it quickly spiraled into frenzied fucking, a mad dash in which you were both racing towards your releases. 

He shoved your shirt over your tits, placed the hem of it in your mouth not only to keep it out of his way but also to stop you from moaning any more than you already were. His large hands massaged over your breasts, cupping and bringing them to his mouth. He buried his face in your chest, kissing and licking over your sensitive skin, lipping over your nipples and flicking them with his tongue. And when his teeth gently grazed over them, you bit down on your shirt to suppress your whines. 

Eren released your tits only to see you hopelessly grind against him. He began to thumb over your clit, trying to tip you over the edge. You were close, your head already thrown back with your pussy throbbing around him. 

He admired you then. Your bouncing tits, the slight sheen across your stomach. He watched his cock disappear inside of you, in and out, in and out. 

“What did I say before? So damn pretty.”

“Close,” you choked. “I’m close.”

Your head flung forward, chin tucked to your chest as your entire body tightened. Eren’s hand found the nape of your neck, bringing you close enough that your foreheads pressed together. 

You were staring straight into each other’s eyes as his hand came between you to clamp down on your mouth. “You gonna come for me?”

You nodded frantically, and that was all it took for you to reach your peak. It bubbled in your core until euphoria engulfed you in its flames. It set your nerves on fire, every fiber of every one, sparking in your chest and scorching through your lower back. 

Once your balmy breaths against his palm had steadied, your irises glossing over like you were lost in a rose-tinted haze, Eren knew he wouldn’t last much longer. With that in mind, he didn’t feel so bad for losing control of himself. He only needed a minute. 

Eren pushed you onto your back, your head landing toward the end of the trunk. He yanked the blanket with him, over him, as he mounted you, plunging into you to the hilt in one snap of his hips. He watched your eyes widen in shock, but the moment he was fucking you again, you went dumb to everything else. 

The car had to be rocking now. There was no way it wasn’t. 

You didn’t have the time to worry about it before Eren’s hips became reckless—correction: more reckless than they were already.  

“I’m gonna come—fuck,” he groaned, drawing out the curse at the end.

His head dropped into the nook of your shoulder as he thrust into you fully one last time, rutting against you as if your bodies weren’t already flush.

When you were sure he’d spent himself, the tilts of his pelvis growing shallower until they settled, you started to sit up on your elbows. 

His voice was gravelly as he grunted, “I’m not done,” right against your ear as he kept you there, fucking his come into you. 

Borderline overstimulated, Eren couldn’t stop himself. He wanted you to take everything he gave you, and it still wasn’t enough. When he should be softening inside you, he was still hard, thinking about all the ways he’d have you once you were back at home. 

He collapsed on top of you, collected himself, then pushed himself up. You followed, tucking the blanket under your armpits even though your entire body was in a sticky swelter. You wiped your forehead as you watched Eren slip his sweatpants back on before tossing his blanket aside. 

He looked from the giant screen and back to you. He no longer recognized the movie, so he assumed, “Look, we even have some of the second movie left.”

You gave him those ‘you can’t be serious’ eyes. “You’re joking, right?”

Of course he was. But he held his silence as long as he could before his smile cracked through. Then he reached to close the trunk. 

“That desperate for round two?” he taunted.

Eren started to climb between seats, like he wasn’t too big for it, to reach the front. It was better than facing everyone in the immediate vicinity after what he’d done.

He plopped into the driver’s seat and looked back at you. “If you insist.”

thanks for reading ♡

[justblades]

THE MOVIE OR ME ?

♡ CHARACTERS : mysta, luca, ike, shu, vox x afab! reader

♡ SUMMARY : getting freaky in the cinemas with luxiem (repost)

♡ WARNINGS : SMUT, MDNI. public sex, unprotected sex.

MYSTA — "this shit is boring." he complains with no regard if he's heard by the other people or not with how loud his voice was. you try to silence him from talking shit any further by putting a finger on his lips but to your surprise, he opens his mouth and sucks on it instead, tongue so warm and slick, playing with your skin. he looks at you, gaze as bold as brass, licking every part of your index. "m-mysta!" you freak out but still managed to keep it in low tones. he decides to cut it out and laugh it off, "i'd rather play with your tits than being forced to watch this bs."

your face crumples up, "my brother in christ you're horny." he nods and agrees, "yeah yeah, because you wore the easy access type and now i'm so tempted to do you." he pertains to the bodycon dress you're wearing as you try to pull down the hem to your knees. a hand immediately stops you from doing so, none other than mysta rias. this time, he puts a finger on his lips and whisper "shh. come with me to the restroom." his cerulean eyes glimmer from the movie lighting but then fading away as he stands up and casually descends from the series of theater seatings. your heart pounds faster the longer it took for him to disappear, but as you notice that his presence was gone, you do the same too and exit the cinema room.

the bright white lights then welcome your vision, and a tall figure from your left awaits you. he approaches your slightly trembling body and holds your cold, sweating palms, "this is gonna be fun, trust me." he leads you to the restroom reserved for pwds, the spacious place is enough for you to have sex with him. "this is the dress that i bought for you, right?" mysta queries as he leans towards you, arms snaking around your waist and bringing your body closer to his. you could feel the broad plane of his chest pressing against you, as well as his painful dick easing some attention from your hands down below.

you hum in response, although something boggles your mind. "we can do it in a standard bathroom, why this one?" mysta pauses for a second but then goes back in track to tease you physically, he lifts up your tight dress and says, "relax, there are three restrooms of the same type. plus, our sex will be something different for now. today, i want you to move and lavish my dick completely." in a flash, your panties were stripped by his long fingers, a juicy wet surface seeps out of your naked folds. "i know you wanted to do something like this long ago, so here it is now. enjoy my dick~" he coos and sits on the toilet, his clothing stripped down as well.

his cock twitches while he waits for you to come and sit on him like a good girl would. his brazen gaze at your figure felt as if he was ready to eat you up and his conceited grin was the cherry on top. you finally get on top of him and held his dick with your hands, lubricating it with your saliva you saved up earlier. you stroke it up and down to keep it in its full glory and hard like a metal rod, you look straight at mysta's eyes as you insert in in your hole. the both of you mewls from the feeling, you rock your head back from the immense pleasure you got upon the first step of riding him. you try to buck your hips to get used to the feeling and slowly hold onto the metal railings on both sides of the toilet as support to keep you sitting atop mysta's lap. "ah— i can't stop myself anymore." he chuckles in response, "you don't have to. we have thirty minutes left to have fun in here."

LUCA — the more luca buried himself in the crook of your neck the more you could smell the scent of booze in your nose. you comb his blond locks with your fingers carefully, earning a hum from him in approval. "luca, are you drunk?" you ask right of the bat as you watch the scenes playing in front, getting cozy with luca to combat the cold atmosphere in the cinema. "drunk, hmm, no. tipsy, maybe?" he says, words uttered sloppily and with a strong accent.

you almost snickered at how different his voice was but at the same time, aroused at how raspy and rough his voice chimed into your ears. "why didn't you tell me? we could've watched other movies in your house instead so you'll be comfortable." luca weakly shakes his head in opposition to your idea, "i had to something special for the stream a little while—" his explaining was cut off with a hic, "do you need some water?" you ask as you hand him a bottle of water when all of a sudden, he opens his mouths and crashes his lips on yours. caught off guard, you widened your eyes but couldn't do anything as luca was already stopping you with hise bulked up arms; the latex texture of his gloves brushing on your skin was eerily cold.

he twirls his tongue and lightly sucks on yours, lavender eyes fluttered close, enjoying the momentum. you try to break the deep kiss by pulling away but to your surprise, your body reclines and fall down on the vacant seats beside you. luca as an opportunist, pins you down on the cushions still not stopping from giving you heated kisses. when he finally does so, a trail of saliva connects your lips to his pink ones, you try to catch your breath from how quick and heated the kisses were.

"luca, we're in the cinemas. we're outside." the blond male hums in acknowledgment of your point "oh yes, you're right— i'm sorry." he withdraws from your figure. naturally, you were shocked at how he stopped just like that. really? just like that? truth to be told, the moment you feel him press his itching dick against your clothed region, it made you yearn for more so you were a little disappointed at how quickly he gave up. "wait actually . ." you crawl back to him and lean in his face, "i kinda want more." you murmured.

luca's cheeks instantly heat up at your words as he was left with no choice but to stand up and strip his slacks down in an instant. "i want to feel you inside me so badly right now." a satisfied smile creeps up on your lips as you remove your clothing as well and bend over on the cinema seat, ass perked up— the perfect position to insert himself in. "you look so pretty tonight." he says as he hastily pushes his cock inside your heating pussy, a pretty moan bubbles from your throat.

thankfully, the movie you wanted to watch was the underrated type and so many people wouldn't attend to watch it. another bonus factor is: the timings. it was 7 in the evening and if you remember correctly, only seven people including you and luca availed for the tickets. you let yourself rock back and forth from how rough luca was pounding your hole, strings of endless mewls slip out of your mouth— almost drooling from how good it is for your feelings. "ahh— drunk you hits different."

SHU — shu and you agreed to do naughty things in the theaters just for shits and giggles but in all honesty, it was because you won from an uno game you played yesterday and this was his punishment (although not really, but still, a punishment). it was receiving a blowjob from you but in the cinemas, a crowded one at that. you've always been a little adventurous, ready to risk things for added zeal and excitement altogether.

you made sure to wear the prettiest, skimpiest and tightest clothing you can wear to seduce him and it was working. you were gliding your hands up and down his sturdy chest as you two tried to focus on the movie before you. every time you'd attempt to play with his nipples, he'd grab your hand and try to bear with the tantalizing feeling.

it was all foreplay, even going as far as planting shortlived kisses on his neck, ending each one with slight sucking that his pale skin turned reddish violet. "god, your skin is so sensitive." you tell him, snickering at the end of your sentence. "i know i know, please carry on with it already and finish my suffering." he whimpers, eyebrows furrowed from the multiple sensations he'd been receiving.

"if shu asks so, then i shall give." you finally get down on your knees to level yourself with shu's bulging pants. you strip him down with swift and ease, letting his lonely dick finally spring free. you lick your lips in anticipation and kiss the tip, slowly working your way down— at the same time spitting saliva you saved up earlier. you bobble your head up and down as you take him in, mouth widened as much as possible because his cock was just too girthy for you to take lightly. it felt sloppy but good in a different kind of way, the more you deepened his cock in your mouth, the hornier you got just imagining his dick inside you.

shu's hips buck up and down to create more friction and to pick up the pace while you gladly obliged. he was starting to feel better than the 'suffering' side, and immediately craved for more. "[name], how come you're so good at this?" he whines as he looks down on you, lilac eyes admiring such view. you decide to make him feel better as you deepened the blowjob, taking him all the way in, until his tip eventually reaches the deepest part of your throat. you feel tears in your eyes form yet you try to show him a caring, comforting smile— in order to make the experience one of a kind for him.

"i-i'm cumming!" he says as he rocks his head back, overwhelmed all in all. you continue on sucking his dick and stroking it at the same time until you feel the taste of his cum splash in your mouth. carefully taking it out, you show him his liquid that you accumulated through dedication and hard work and swallowed it all. "looks like shu enjoyed the so-called punishment huh?"

IKE — you've awaited this moment your whole life, and finally, ike agrees on a movie date. all tensed up from the waiting game guessing whether he'll reject it or not, an answer finally arises. he said yes. and now here you are, arm linked with his, enjoying his presence as you got to watch the movie you both wanted to see. apparently a couple of minutes later, the sound effects from the show silences and clapping noises reverberate inside from a distance.

who in their right mind would even have sex at a horror movie? or perhaps you're imagining things? you turn to ike and shoot him a question, "ike— do you hear that?" he responds, "ah yes. it's normal in this country apparently. do you want to join in the fun too? i'm here anyways." in an unfazed tone, let alone his voice soft and low. you look at him, doubt and shock painting your expression. and most importantly, he said the last part as if it was something out of the norm? "i'm fine, it's okay." you shrug off the tempting desire to see the male feel good from your body, and also to make him absolutely whipped for you as you planned to.

the movie continues, whoever may be doing the deed in the theaters are still on a roll and jump scares come minute by minute, your vocal chords nearing to surrendering every time you'd get spooked. "this movie is the creepiest and the scariest i've seen in a while!" you tell him and even though you used to love this genre of films and shows, you've never been this balls scared of one. "yeah true, the build up of suspense in this one is amazing." he laughs quietly but notices how you're barely watching the movie with two hands on your eyes.

"actually— there is a trick i learned on how to be less scared of movies like these." he shares and it piques your interest. "just spread your legs and allow me to do the pleasure, alright?" your mind was already clouded from the brewing temptation of carnal desire from earlier and now that being scared shitless is added to the mix, you were unable to think thoroughly and let ike take the wheel. his hands snake up to your clothed region, fingers brushing up and down your clit. you moan from the sensation, while ike's lush green eyes squint into two crescents, enjoying the noises that you're making. you heave a deep breath as you hold tightly on his arm, heart pounding against your chest. "go watch now, you won't be jump scared anymore in this way, no?"

you bite your lower lip to try and restrain yourself from being noisy. you anchor your attention back to the movie while focusing heavily on not to let out any loud moans or else you'll be banned from the mall. ike pushes your panties aside and inserts three fingers all the way in, your back arches, pleasure and lust coursing through your veins.

at the same time, a jump scare pops up in the frame and was ike right. you were too occupied from feeling the pleasure than focusing on the horror movie playing. little did you know, the same applies for him too. apparently, he was too busy making you feel good and indulging in the pretty noises you're making.

VOX — it was unanticipated for the movie having several r18 scenes happening left and right, causing you to get irked and sexually frustrated at the same time. meanwhile vox beside you isn't saying anything nor his expressions seem to change. if anything, he looks intrigued and interested, opposedly to you.

you try to shift your attention back once again to the movie playing on the big screen. as of the moment, the story actually seems to progress but a little while after, another bed scene was occurring. "just how much does this movie have porn?" you ask vox with a disgruntled face. "i didn't see it coming too." he responds in a low voice, attention still anchored at the movie. you sigh and decided to try bearing with the scenes for a little while.

focusing again, seeing the couple in the movie caress each other's body and showering each other with passionate kisses, the libido in your body increases rapidly. your breath deepens as they undress each other, until your vision gets blurry and you start to envision yourself with vox doing those things instead. "vox . . ." you whip your head to the right again and place your hand on his thighs. he notices how you're acting unusual as confusion paints his pretty face, eyebrows furrowed.

you begin to reach for his bulge and palm it from his white trousers, and vox bites his lips in an attempt to suppress the gasp about to slip out of his mouth. "you're surprisingly bold today." he whispers on your neck, his hot breath ghost on your sensitive skin. you no longer hesitated to zip his pants down to feel more of his bulging dick, the warmth it emanates from your touch is enough to drive you crazier than ever. "i want it inside me." you tell him as your dominant hand reaches out to his head, pulling him closer to your face.

vox immediately understood what you were trying to do, so he follows suit with your wish. he licks your sweet skin, following with light nibbling with his teeth leaving sloppy yet silent kisses all over your neck. you cover your mouth with a free hand and continue to stroke vox's dick. you feel it twitch everytime you'd glide your fingers underneath the tip of his dick. "you know i can't resist you." he says sternly as he carries your body and makes you sit atop him quickly to avoid suspicion from the other people, a whimper escapes your lips. "you know what to do." vox says as he strips his boxers down and lets his cock free of confinements, standing tall and warm, begging to be inserted in. you slowly stand up from his lap and rake your flowy yet short skirt up, showing vox your burgundy colored thongs that hugs the plush of your ass perfectly.

"my fucking god, what a view." he cusses under his breath and wastes no time by putting his dick into your sopping hole right away with a light push. he supports your position by grabbing ahold of your arms and continues to pound in and out, making sure you're feeling him all the way in. "fuck vox . . my pussy really loves your dick i can't do anything about it." you tell him as you look back, seeing him smirk at your pleading, desperate face as he thrusts into your hole. "and that's just how it should be. if you were to be this crazy about others, i might just act up."

my masterlist

[familyvideostevie]

Deadass losing my mind on this Monday. Let's try this again 😂🙃😂🙃

For your beach day! ⛱️🌊👙

🐚 SEASHELL : Mr Big - To Be With You

For my one and only Steve Harrington

thank you!! i didn't know this song but i looked at the lyrics and its so friends to lovers, which is my favorite to do with steve!! so here we go -- here's steve confessing to you after you go on one too many failed dates : )

--

"Can you come pick me up?" you rush out, all in one breath, so fast you're sure he's going to ask you to repeat it.

A sigh on the other end of the line. You bang your forehead on the side of the payphone and wince. "You at the movie theater?" Steve asks.

You nod before realizing he can't see you. "Yeah," you say. "Steve, I'm sorry --"

"Hey, don't start with that shit. I'll be there in 10. You safe till then?" You look around, amused. There are plenty of people getting out of their own movies or going to a late night showing, so you feel find on the sidewalk. Steve knows you can take care of yourself, but he sounds genuinely worried, as always.

"Yeah," you say. "Unless the birthday party of twelve year olds going to see Labyrinth decides to mug me."

Steve huffs a laugh and hangs up on you. You groan. How are you going to explain another failed date to your best friend? You didn't even try with this one -- you kept leaning over to tell jokes and this guy kept hushing you. Steve would have laughed.

And that's the problem, isn't it? Steve would have laughed but you didn't go on a date with Steve because you don't know if he likes you like that. Because he encourages you before every date and offers to beat up anyone who treats you badly but never offers to treat you the way you want him to.

And this friendship is the best thing you've got and maybe asking for more would mess it up.

Steve pulls up to the curb and you hop into the BMW. "You look nice," he says, frowning. "How bad was it?"

"Just boring," you say. "He wanted to drive me home but I told him I'd walk because I didn't want him to try anything I'd have to awkwardly refuse." Steve heads towards the diner for your typical post-failed date routine: milkshakes.

His frown deepens. "Sorry you keep going on shitty dates," he says. "Seems like none of the guys in town are worth it."

You hum, but don't say either way, since there is one guy who is. Maybe it's the air or the movie you saw or the way his hair curls at his collar, but the words tumble out of you before you can stop them. "Why do you always come get me when I call, Steve?"

Steve taps his fingers on the steering wheel and purses his lips. "Are you actually asking?"

"Sure sounds like I am, doesn't it?"

He glances at you and sees how serious you are. He searches your eyes for long enough that the car behind him honks. "Jesus, calm down," he mutters, but it seems like he's found what he was looking for because he sets his shoulders and his hands grip the wheel like he's bracing himself.

"I think you might know why," he tells you. Your heart starts to pound. "But I don't know if you want me to say it out loud."

He pulls into the diner parking lot but doesn't get out. He turns off the car and shifts so he's looking at you. "I do," you tell him. "You're braver than I am."

He scoffs. "Bullshit. You're the brave one. You put yourself out there all the time and I can't even tell my best friend that I --"

His voice cuts off when you grab his hand. "Your best friend does, too," you say, a little breathless. "Do you, uh, want to get a milkshake? With me?"

Steve's got something akin to wonder on his face. "Like...a date?" He squeezes your hand.

"Does it make me easy to go on two dates in one night?"

His laugh is like the sun as he hops out of the car and runs around to open your door, grabbing your hand and not letting go.

join the celebration!

[biancadjarin]

Head Over (Chanel) Heels pt. 3

EM x spoiled!reader (y/n self insert)

chapter one chapter two chapter three chapter four

Warnings - cursing, angst, fighting, mentions of blood, Steve and Eddie overall being hotheads

💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕

Tonight’s the night. Yours and Eddie’s date. You hear the phone in your room ring as you finish up your shower, pulling on a towel and dashing over to answer it.

“Hello?” “Hi angel. It’s me.” Eddie’s sweet voice coos through the phone. Your legs feel like jelly as you sit criss cross on your bed, curling the phone cord around your finger. “You ready for our date tonight?” “F’course Eddie! M’so excited.” He chuckles lowly. “Good me too. Already went to the theater and got our tickets. Just in case.” “What time should I be ready?” “Well I don’t wanna rush perfection. Soo.. an hour?” “Yeah that’s perfect! I can’t wait to see you.” You tell him sweetly. “You’re so cute. Can’t wait to see you too and show you off. You gonna wear something sexy for me?” He asks, voice gravelly and you can almost hear the smile spreading on his lips. You pull the phone away from your ear for a second to squeak at how flirty he is before returning it to your mouth, trying to sound casual. “Yeah of course. Don’t I always look sexy?” There’s silence for a second as you hear a lighter flick on Eddie’s side, the low crackle of something burning. “Shit-” he releases a deep exhale, “you’ve got me there princess. Ok go get ready. I’ll see you soon.”

You quickly begin curling your hair, doing your makeup so it’s flawless but not overdone. Making sure your lips are glossy but not sticky. Perfectly kissable.

You’re nervous. Like way more nervous than you should be because Eddie’s so sweet and you trust him. But that’s exactly what’s making you nervous. It’s easy to be light and flirty with a guy you know is never going to be your boyfriend. But Eddie might actually become just that. At least you hope so.

The doorbell ringing makes you jump, not expecting it to ring so soon. He can’t already be here, he’d had to have broken every speed limit on the way if he is. You think to yourself. You shrug and head to open the door, still in your short silky robe that you wear to get ready. You prance down your stairs, butterflies crashing into each other in your stomach as you get closer to your front door. You take a deep breath before pulling on the handle, cool outside air whooshing in and blowing your hair around.

Two big brown puppy dog eyes stare back at you nervously. Except it’s not the eyes you were expecting.

“Steve? What’re you doing here?” You ask genuinely surprised. He stares at you for a second, taking in your face and scantily clad body, cool air causing the peaks of your breasts to pebble a bit under your robe. He blinks, sighing and shaking his head, pushing his hair out of his face. “I just have to talk to you about something.” “Well can it wait? Eddie’s supposed to be here any minute to pick me up.” “No y/n, it can’t wait.” Steve says impatiently, pushing into your foyer past you.

“Ok… what’s up?” You ask as you close the door behind him. “How come you didn’t tell me about you and Eddie?” He asks, hands sitting in the pockets of his tight jeans, eyes shifting between yours expectantly. You give him a furrowed brow, opened mouth expression. Haven’t we gone over this?

“I already told you,” you say calmly stepping closer to him. “I didn’t think it was a big deal. Do I have to run every life decision by you for your approval Steve?” you ask him sarcastically, rolling your eyes. “Of course not y/n.. but..” he chews on the inside of his cheek as he scans the room, avoiding your gaze.

Your patience is wearing thin, you still have to finish getting ready and Steve is monopolizing your time with what seems like a nothing conversation. You sit on the couch closest to you and prop your chin on your palm, giving him a bored expression as if to say go on.

“It’s just.. I told you I didn’t think that party was a good idea.” Steve finally says, angrily. He takes a deep breath, the striped fabric of his polo straining over shoulders as he paces a couple times before stopping directly in front of you. You up look at him with furrowed brows. “Before the party, we hung out everyday. We’d talk about everything, you’d always be there when I need you. Now?” He exhales sharply, hands resting on his hips, eyes looking to the side for a second before returning to yours. “I should’ve never brought him. I should’ve never started hanging out with him! Being his friend!” “Who?” You ask confused. “Eddie! The fucking guy who you’re going on a date with! The guy who’s got you all distracted. The guy that you look like that for.” His eyes soften as his gaze dances up and down your body. You feel a chill run down your spine at his words. You don’t think you’ve ever seen Steve this mad, not even after the Nancy/Jonathan thing. “Steve what’s the problem? Do you not want me to date Eddie?” you reach a hand out to stroke his arm comfortingly. His eyes glance back up to meet yours and you swear they have a sheen of tears about to spill from them before he runs both hands over his face and turns away from you. “I-I don’t know. I’m just saying. You deserve better. You’re really going to date a metal band guitarist who plays a weird board game?” He asks you. You wince at his judgmental words. “You don’t even know him that well y/n.” He says, eyes wide and head nodding, mouth moving faster than his brain can compute.

“He’s hooked up with a lot of girls. He tells me. You should hear the things he says!” Your stomach drops thinking about Eddie with other girls. You’re not naïve, you know he’s a teenage boy in a band with a brain and a dick. But suddenly, you feel nauseous, mouth filling up with saliva, lightheaded and dizzy. “He’s not a good guy y/n, he only cares about one thing.” He stares at you and you give him a pouty look in return, shaking your head slightly. “He just wants to fu- you know what he wants.” He says with a sigh. The memories of that first night with Eddie fill your mind, how he was so patient and gentle, never rushing or pressuring you. You glare at Steve. “Like you’re some kind of virginal angel Steve.” You scoff. “I know I’m not.” Steve says, walking towards you again, legs straddling either side of yours. He looks down at you, thumb and forefinger squeezing either side of your chin to angle your gaze up to him. “But you are. You’re an angel. And Eddie’s sees that. He preys upon it. Just call him and cancel your date, hm? For me?”

You stand up with a huff, swatting his hand away. “No way! I don’t care what you say Steve, I really like Eddie and I trust him.” “More than you trust me?” Steve asks a little louder than you’re used to him talking to you. Your eyes begin to water as your mind races thinking about everything Steve’s said to you. And you do trust Steve, of course. Your throat tightens and your nose tickles as the first tear falls from your mascaraed eyes. “Oh y/n no, baby baby please don’t cry. I didn’t mean to upset you.” Steve says as he rushes over to you, hands rubbing up and down your silk covered arms. “I just-the whole reason I came over here was because I need you to know. You should do better than Eddie. You can do better than Eddie. I’ve liked you since I met you y/n.”

You sniffle as you look up at him, eyes wide. You can’t believe what you’re hearing. And he’s choosing now to tell you? “That isn’t fair Steve. You’re only saying that because you don’t want me to be with anyone. You want me to be alone! Like you!” The tears are flowing worse now, a mixture of hurt, embarrassment and anger. “No, no, that’s not what I want y/n, I want you. Us. Don’t you see?” He asks, his arms spreading out around him. “Me and you just make sense! Every time I’m with you, I just feel happier. I feel whole. And when you’re not there, I feel like half a person. I thought I could be ok with us just being best friends, us being neighbors, I could always just walk over here and see you. But you’re pushing me away, you’re hiding things now.” He shakes his head, his voice lowering as he rests his hands on your cheeks, thumbs brushing away tears. “Let’s just go back to how we were. Me and you. No one else. I’ll show you how good of a boyfriend I can be.”

You had to admit, it’s a hell of an offer. And any other girl in Indiana would be eating this silver platter offer up with a spoon. But it just doesn’t feel right. You and Steve are friends. And that’s all it’ll ever be. You want to explain all that to him but the wall clock catches your eye and you panic. This argument has taken twenty minutes, Eddie will be here any minute.

“You need to leave Steve.” “What?” He asks weakly, eyes bigger and softer than you’ve ever seen them, the glisten of tears returning. You wipe your eyes, getting yourself together as you pull his hand behind you toward the door. “Now.” You open the door wide and step out of the way, arms crossed over your chest. He opened his mouth to say something but decided against it, shaking his head. He paused in the doorway, leaning down to kiss you on the cheek. “Call me later ok?” He asks as he disappears down your front steps.

Just that moment, Eddie’s van comes tearing down the street. Parking in your driveway, he hops out, wild brown waves bouncing as he spins on the ball of his foot to close the creeky door. “Harrington? Hey man, what’s up?” Steve huffs past him, heading towards his respective mansion next door. “Ohhkay..” Eddie shrugs, beginning to walk up to your front door. He knocks and you open it apprehensively, trying to put on your bravest face.

His wide smile drops when he sees you. “Y/n? Are you ok?” He asks scanning your face. He takes a step towards you, pulling you into his chest, rubbing your back with his hand. You nod weakly, your tear streaked face making his heart ache. “What’s wrong, what happ-?” His eyes go wide and drift off to the side when he remembers who was just here. He turns around, pushing through your door and jogging across your lawn towards where Steve is walking, almost back to his house. “Eddie wait-” you call after him. He doesn’t hear you. His heartbeat is thumping in his ears as his blood starts to boil. “Harrington!”

Steve stops in his tracks and turns around slowly with a groan. “What do you want Eddie?” “Uh I want to know why y/n is crying. I get here to pick her up and see you leaving her house. You wanna fill in the blanks?” Eddie’s eyes bore into Steve’s as Steve shrugs his shoulders and smirks. “Maybe she realized she’s about to go out with trailer park trash.” Eddie felt his fist clench and fly up to connect with Steve’s cheek before his mind even knew what was happening. Steve gets knocked down, clutching his face as he writhes in the grass. You cover your mouth in shock. This is all my fault.

“Fuck!” Steve grunts as he sits up, blood covering the highest point of his face, cheek already red and swollen. Eddie leans down and curls his fingers into Steve’s collar so he’s nose to nose with him now. You know Eddie looks intimidating but this is the first time you’ve ever seen him be intimidating. “You’ve been trying to fuck this up since I told you about me and her. I knew you liked her Steve. You’re not very good at hiding it. But she doesn’t want you man. She picked me.” Steve looks at Eddie with so much anger Eddie thinks he’s going to get punched back. But Steve’s eyes leave his and flit to over his shoulder. “S’that true?”

You’re standing behind Eddie, bare toes digging into the sprinkler soaked manicured turf grass of Steve’s lawn. Eddie turns around, eyes soft with worry. You look down and his hands are trembling, right knuckles bloody and bruised. Your eyes flick back and forth between the two boys, not sure what to say. A week ago, Steve was your best friend and you hadn’t even met Eddie. You never thought you’d be here now. Your mind is racing, you’re cold and you’re tired, not sure what to do or say.

“Y/n?” Eddie prompts you softly as he turns to face you, “why aren’t you saying anything?”

To Be Continued…

Notes : ok so I didn’t think this was going to turn into a steddie fic but it kind of has? And I know this sounds crazy but I kind of want to write both endings. One where reader picks Steve and one where she picks Eddie. Kind of like a choose your own adventure. What do you guys think??🤭

[katriniac]

Hi!! I hope the OC Questions are still up!

I wanted to know 4, 7, 16, 32 and E for Alyce!

Thank youuu

I did not notice I had any asks! I'm sorry for the wait, @itsmyara . Oh my gosh! Thanks for asking about Alyce. She's a warm, sunny, fun gal; I'm happy to talk about her at any time.

Here's a post I made about her bio:

4 - How easy is it to gain their trust?

She has a fairly open personality, so it's pretty easy to talk to her. However, she's not a door mat to be walked over, nor is she blindly innocent. She works in marketing and public relations, so she's used to people bullshitting her or trying to spin any conversation in their favor. Alyce herself is adept at navigating these conversations without growing jaded or annoyed. To her it's just ‘business’ and she knows it's not personal.

Building trust with her isn't that difficult; just be real and honest. Don't try to win her over with empty flattery, especially if it's about her looks (which she's very self-conscious about, and is immediately suspicious if someone compliments her appearance).

7 - What triggers nostalgia? Do they enjoy that feeling?

Having grown up on a sheep farm, she doesn't shy away from hard work. But now she has a desk job in the palace in the capitol of Rhodolite. So on the rare occasions when physical labor is needed, she enjoys the opportunity to use her muscles. Those moments are when good memories of the farm rise up.

The only unpleasant feelings of nostalgia are when she is given suggestions by nobility, ministers, or Prince Yves on how to make herself more ‘elegant’. That reminds her of her grandmother, who incessantly lectured Alyce about her weight, behavior, posture, appearance, and clothes.

16 - What makes their stomach turn?

Hearing nobility disregard the life of the commoners as if it was nothing. Seeing girls suffer under the stress of looking perfect at court by succumbing to an eating disorder.

As far as, like, creepy-crawlies or jump-scares? She's completely unafraid of things that would gross out most people. Dealing with births and deaths of livestock tend to keep you from being squeamish. She LOVES an adrenaline rush, so haunted houses and fast vehicles make her happy.

32 - What is their go-to story or joke in a conversation?

Alyce is a natural-born performer, so she has any number of jokes or anecdotes at the ready, depending on the company or situation. As a teenager she used to hang out at the theaters and socialize with traveling actors and musicians, and now as an adult she can be found at the rowdiest pubs. You can imagine the flavor of her humor, lol!

She's got a hilarious story about a circus performer trying to teach her how to juggle. And a sweet story about one of the farm-hands pretending to look for a lost sheep when he was actually out in the field practicing his marriage proposal speech. And she's got at least three ‘tasteful’ jokes about stuffy court ministers.

E - Would you get along with them? Would they get along with you?

Alyce has big ‘extrovert energy’, so I would have to take her in small doses. But I would absolutely love to hang out with her for a fun night at the club or karaoke. Or collaborate with her on a PR project. I would like to think she'd get along with me, but I'm the worst at gauging what people think of me 😅 She might think I'm boring.

A meme I made for Alyce 😆

Bonus Fun Fact:

This version of Alyce Gardner is based on my first ever Ikemen OC I created in 2017. It was for a role-play story with someone writing as Robert Branche from the Cybird game Midnight Cinderella. That story didn't go far, but I thoroughly enjoyed her backstory so much that I had to bring her out again eventually.

I ship her with Clavis because I think the two of them would have fun getting into shenanigans, and their romance would take a looooooong time to bloom because she'd never believe someone as gorgeous as him could be serious with his over-the-top declarations of love and flattery. So … yeah, she takes a while to be convinced.

The asks came from this post:

Please feel free to send me more asks from that list. I will try to be more vigilant in checking my account for asks.

[newsie-collective]

Lesley Jacobs 🥰

Another two parter! I love this lil guy!! He's such a skrunkly lil man

Quickfire Favorites

Food: “Taffy! I love taffy! ‘Speshully the salt ones!”

Color: “Green! No blue! !!!!! A mix o’ green an’ blue!!!”

Season: “Root beer!” after a confused look “We learned ‘bout Sassafras in school! And how it’s a season that gets turned to root beer!” more confused staring “You meant season like… like spring an’ summer, din’cha?”

Weather: “I like when it’s rainin’! Then we get to hang out with Cowboy at Miss Medda’s! We get to see him paintin’!”

Hobby: “Sword fightin’! I’s gettin’ real good! You wanna see?”

Animal: “Pigeons! They real smart! They can find their way from a hundred miles away!”

Memory: “Meetin’ Miss Medda! Cowboy brought us to her theater an’ we got to see the Bowery Beauties an’ see Miss Medda perform for the first time!”

Comfort Item: “My sword! It keeps me safe when I’s hawkin’!”

His birth name was Lior, but his parents Americanized it when they settled. 

They hadn’t lived in another country, they’d lived in a different state that was far more forgiving toward the Jewish community

Les doesn’t know where exactly his family lived before, he was born right before they moved, so he doesn’t remember it

He also doesn’t have room in his brain for things he doesn’t think is interesting

So he couldn’t tell you what city or state

He knows it was further inland than New York

Is very excited to live near the ocean

Is also filled with giddy terror at the thought of going anywhere near the ocean

Lior (changed to Lesley, and later shortened to Les) Miron Jacobs 

He’s baby

There’s not much else to say 😌

But I will anyway

Les Jacobs had a pretty good childhood. He was the youngest of three siblings, and was the baby of the family. He was doted on for most of his younger years. 

His family shielded and protected him from discrimination. They would take the brunt of any snide remarks sent their way, leaving Les oblivious to others’ hatred. For a while. 

With Davey as his big brother and Sarah as his big sister, he grew up with mega big brains. School, for the most part, came easy to him. He would tell his siblings what they were going to learn that week, and they’d show him how to do it. 

He got in trouble a lot for talking and fidgeting during class

It only got worse after the strike. 

Because he’d been out of school for so long he didn’t really remember how to sit still

Definitely has Gifted Kid Syndrome when he gets older. He tries so hard when he’s young, but after the strike and being around the newsies, school was kind of… boring. 

He cared less and less about schoolwork and more and more about hawking and being around the newsies. He wanted to learn less about school subjects and more about life.

Anything he wasn’t good at, he didn’t want to do. He wanted to be good at the things he did as soon as he tried them (Like hawking papes)

Les is neurodivergent 

I know everyone usually says ADHD, or something similar

But hear me out

Hyperlexia. More specifically Hyperlexia II.

There wasn’t a name for it back then, I think the name only came about less than a hundred years ago. 

Hyperlexia II occurs in children with autism. They are captivated by letters and words and numbers. 

He’s very good with dates, and loves learning new things. He loves spending time with Elmer and Davey. They can teach him math and reading, new words, new ways to see the world.

On that note, I believe Les has autism

Definitely has echolalia. He can and will repeat the phrases spoken by the people nearby. It happens most often with the newsies, which has gotten him into far more trouble than anything else

Says fuck at least once a day, just echoing Crutchie the newsies

Once they get settled back into a routine with the newsies, he refuses to let anything come between him and that routine (including, but not limited to: his mom finding out that the newsies smoked around him, Jack and Davey’s first and only fight, him asking his dad to teach him how to play poker so he could play the next time the newsies play)

Their routine, for anyone who was curious:

Davey wakes up with the first light of day. Les wakes as soon as his brother stirs

They both get up, and get ready. Socks first. Les can’t stand the feeling of the floor on his bare feet. He dresses up from there. Pants, shirt, suspenders, hat. 

Mama calls them for breakfast as soon as the sunlight touches the roof of the next building.

After breakfast, during the school year, they go to school, and during the summer they go to the Lodge.

Their shoes stay by the door. That’s the last thing he puts on before they leave. 

He stays out hawking for the same amount of time that he would’ve been in school

Afterward, they go to the theater to see Miss Medda.

Then, back to the Lodge to hang out with the newsies for a bit

The newsies fight over who gets to give him a piggyback ride

He picked Jack every time

Until he found out that Albert and Finch would run with him on their back

He picks Albert usually, because he’s easier to get on, but will pick Finch without too much fuss if Albert is busy

They get back home at dusk, doing homework by the light of the sun (or a candle once the sun had set)

Once finished with homework, they bathe, and get into bed

Has to repeatedly be told that there are certain things he can’t say certain places

He can’t speak what little Yiddish he knows in public, for fear of retaliation by the masses

He can’t say anything about the strike or the union, had to stop going to meetings and rallies because he would just talk and talk and talk to people, and would unknowingly jeopardize the entire operation

He can’t tell anyone about when he sees Davey and Jack huddled together on the fire escape, looking a little too close to be just friends

Looks up to Jack, and Jack does his best to be the role model he needed growing up. He doesn’t want Les selling papes, doesn’t want Les to be near their side of town (it’s dangerous, even with the newsies having his back), much less actually being a newsie and hawking.

“Davey said if I don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say anything at all. So I’m not gonna say anything to you :) “ -Les

Alternatively: “Davey said if I don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say anything at all. But Davey ain’t here and you’re a little BI-” -Les, right before Jack remembers that he prefers life

Is the bicon everyone wants Jack Kelly to be

Is a pastel boyo

Everyone expects him to be a neon guy, to complete the trifecta (Davey having an e-boy aesthetic is everything to me. Sarah is 10000% pastel princess (and def has an alt edge to it) but he’s def stolen at least 3 of Sarah’s sweaters, and tried on 4 of her skirts (has told no one) because he likes how flowy they are

Can and will fall asleep anywhere and everywhere

Is an absolute god at Clue(do). Davey and Katherine get so frustrated on game night because Les can look at the people around him, make one suggestion to get an idea of what everyone thinks, watch cards exchange hands, and make his final guess the next round.

He wins every single time

He’s terrifying when it comes to April Fools Day.

Like to the point that he isn’t allowed to pull pranks anymore

Not because anyone gets hurt

But because everyone else gets butthurt that they can’t outdo Les’s absolute EXTRAVAGANZA

Gets a lot of his self worth from others. He looks to the others for approval after he says or does anything, because if they don’t approve or think he’s doing a good job then how can he possibly think he’s doing a good job?

Says beep instead of excuse me

Trusts everyone

That being said, if someone wrecks that trust it’s next to impossible to earn it back

He can and will hold a grudge for ages

His longest streak has been six months

And it was because Sarah brought him regular taffy instead of salted taffy

He didn’t trust her to bring him candy until one day she showed up with several bags of saltwater taffy

Loves listening to the others talk about the things they like, and is really good at retaining that information

He has a vague idea of what he’s supposed to do as a good Jewish boy, but doesn’t always remember specifics

[hekateinhell]

For Dungeon Anon. ♥️ Inspired by some of the stuff that's been going in my ask box lately lmao.

Teenage delinquents Lestat and Armand are dating Louis together while navigating their own situationship, when Louis leaves them to their own devices for two weeks and certain permanent decisions are made.

Modern Human AU, Lestat/Armand/Louis (Louis is there in spirit and also to dom through FaceTime), 5k, rated E (oral sex, video stuff, Lestat's praise kink makes an appearance). X-posted to the ao3 because this is lot for me (RIP).

9:02 PM: I'm bored. Everyone else's gone, come hang out if you want?

9:12 PM: K.

K?

What did "K" even mean? "K, you're bored"? "K, I'm coming over"? "K, I got the text"?

Lestat rolled over, phone on his stomach, annoyed and out of sorts. Leave it to Armand to say everything and nothing at once.

Were his bedroom lights always this bright?

It was never easy when Louis wasn't around. Lestat knew who he was with Louis; he more or less knew what Louis was with Armand, and he knew what he and Armand were with Louis around. But like this, on their own for the first time when Mrs. de Pointe du Lac had inexplicably decided her kids could stand to miss two weeks of school to visit her family in New Orleans. Sick Grand-mère perhaps, Lestat couldn't remember.

–

"Try and spend some time together. Please. Get to know each other without me," Louis had whispered to them both as he pulled away from Lestat's embrace to kiss Armand outside his apartment building while his sister slammed the Taxi trunk shut. "Please? For me?" he squeezed one of their hands in each of his, smiling the demure smile that he knew made them both weak in the knees and tight in the pants.

"Of course, anything for you, my love," Armand, damn him, beat Lestat to the punch.

Disgustingly, cloyingly sweet.

"Yes, yes, of course," Lestat acquiesced, stealing a last kiss for himself as Armand rolled his eyes and not-so-subtly kicked at his ankle with a combat boot. The little gremlin.

Lestat was of the opinion he spent plenty of time with Armand – too much, in fact! Armand on the other side of Louis during class, at lunch, on the steps of their school! Even every Sunday in Louis's bedroom, a 'shared day' when time didn't lend itself to being split neatly down the middle.

An experiment, was what Lestat had told himself as a consolation.

A few months of this before it all came to a head. Armand had cornered him alone in the music room, veritably hissing about how Lestat was purposely trying to shove him aside and drive a wedge between him and Louis and that he, Armand, wasn't going to allow it. Almost comical it had been, what with Armand's head barely reaching Lestat's chest on a good day, and he'd still managed to back him into a wall like a rabid little raccoon.

At first, it had been funny, but then it was simply ventured on annoying. Lestat had had Louis first, after all! Yes, fine, they had technically been "on a break" when Louis met Armand. And yes, there was that little aggravating detail of Louis insisting that he would only give Lestat a second chance if he were still permitted to date Armand. Lestat had given his trademark jovial, "Oh, course, mon chèri!" So confident was he that Armand would be yesterday's news by the end of the week.

But that hadn't happened, and now he had 5'6, 125 lbs of cranky Eastern European theater kid on his ass.

He couldn't hit him, it wouldn't be a fair fight, and the brat would probably spin it to Louis to make himself look like the victim. Never one to back down, Lestat had done the second next-best thing. He'd grabbed Armand's jaw tight in his hand, stunning him into silence, and bent down to kiss him as violently and punishingly as he could - the way he never dared to nor desired to do to Louis. Not a single loving touch in it.

"There, finally shut you the fuck up," Lestat murmured as he caught his breath, delighting in how bruised and busted Armand's already plump lips looked now.

See him complain to Louis about this.

Armand blinked those dark eyes at him, processing the words he'd spoken but making no move to pull away. Something akin to hurt flickered across his face, at the same time he shifted from one leg to the other, and Lestat smiled when he realized exactly why.

The second kiss was a lot gentler, sweeter, wetter, almost as though Lestat were trying to repair the damage he'd done with the same instrument that had done it – his lips.

Armand's hand came up to tangle in Lestat's hair, grinding himself against his thigh as he moaned while his other came to rest over his crotch, squeezing Lestat's raging hard-on through his jeans. Kissing Armand was so different to kissing Louis... Each person always so unique. Armand's mouth was smaller yet more commanding, aggressive yet simultaneously yielding, the cool silver stud in his tongue bumping against Lestat's top teeth with every delicious back-and-forth push and pull.

Didn't realize what was happening until Armand suddenly shuddered and broke away to slump forward, pressing his head to Lestat's bicep as he finished trembling through his orgasm.

A bit of an awkward moment until Lestat's cock decided to remind them both of its rather prominent presence and twitch against Armand's hand.

"I didn't..." Lestat panted, "I haven't..."

Swore he felt Armand smile against his skin. "Give me a second," he squeezed again for emphasis, "I'll take care of it."

And so he had, rather spectacularly – no gag reflex that one – while smugly maintaining eye contact the entire time. He knew how good he was. Louis knew how good he was. And now Lestat did too.

–

Fuck.

The doorbell ringing snapped Lestat out of his reminiscences. "Shit," he mumbled, quickly adjusting himself to right the situation going on in his leather pants just now, thanks to the memory from two months ago.

Think unsexy thoughts, think unsexy thoughts... Don't think about what we've done together, with Louis, since then.

"Hi," Armand looked almost shy for a moment, backing up a few steps so he didn't have to tilt his chin up to look into Lestat's face.

Lestat's instinct was to kiss him, depravedly, right there in the doorway where the neighbors and God might see. But they weren't dating, nor were they even established fuck buddies. A handshake would be too formal, a slap on the shoulder too "bro." He wasn't used to seeing Armand without Louis as a buffer; he'd never actually had to greet Armand as his own person before.

Armand made the decision for him, leaning up to press a quick kiss to the short, day-old scruff along Lestat's jawline before dropping back down and stepping into the house as though it weren't his first time there.

"So... What do you want to do?"

There were several things Lestat wanted to do, to him, just then. But most, if not all, of them would defeat the purpose of "getting to know each other" the way they had promised Louis that they would.

"I still have some booze? We could hit that and throw on a movie?"

Armand gave him a funny look, one Lestat couldn't quite decipher. "You invite me to the afterparty but not the party?"

Oh.

"I wouldn't call it a party," Lestat ran his fingers through his hair, tugging on the ends the way he did when he was starting to get uncomfortable. "Just me and the guys from band, you know. I didn't think you'd vibe with them."

The truth was he hadn't thought about Armand at all. Lestat wasn't a fan of his worlds colliding.

"But Louis 'vibes' with them, yes?"

It's a trap; Lestat can feel it as he's walking right into it.

"Occasionally, maybe. He's very easygoing!"

Armand scoffed. "Louis, easygoing? Just how high are you right now?"

"What's the fucking point of this conversation anyway, Armand?" Lestat's patience quickly found its end. "I invite you over, and you're being bitchy because I didn't ask you to hang out with my friends that I know you'd hate?"

"I'm 'bitchy' because you always act like you're ashamed to be seen around me!"

Oh.

"That's not-! I'm not-!" Not sober enough to even be thinking of having this conversation is what Lestat was.

He's about to tell Armand to forget it and go home; he'll sleep this off and text him in the AM.

"Where's the booze? I want to get messed up."

Gabrielle wasn't home, and wouldn't be home until Monday. She didn't care. Who did?

"Down that way, cabinet on the right."

Armand's a lot sweeter when he's drunk, kissing at Lestat's face and collarbone in an overly excitable, almost childlike way as he bounced on the bed.

"You're so beautiful," he whispered, staring into Lestat's eyes before bursting into a fit of giggles. "You should fuck me."

Lestat choked on the bottle. "Yeah, I don't think so." The look on Armand's face... "Not that I don't want to," Lestat hurried to correct his mistake, "I’d want you to remember it, you know? I've been told I am quite the experience." Couldn't resist punctuating that statement with a wink.

Armand snorted, his humor making a quick recovery. "Oh, I'm sure."

Lestat took another swig and passed the bottle. "Have you done it yet?"

"'It'? Really, Lestat? Am I a virgin? Have I fucked, banged, screwed, you mean?"

"Jesus. Yes, that's what I meant! I know we fool around, and I imagine you do the same kind of things with Louis when it's just the two of you."

Bitter, bitter thought.

"But are you a virgin?"

"Why do you want to know?" Armand seemed defensive all of a sudden, peering at him in that creepy, unblinking way that Lestat found vaguely threatening.

Something-something unpredictable and unsettling.

"No reason," he shook his head. "Just curious, that's all. And quit looking at me like that! It's very off-putting."

Rather than being insulted, Armand appeared to take it as a compliment. He smiled and leaned back against the headboard, satisfied. "Good, you should be put off."

"You literally just asked me to fuck you!" Lestat's booming laugh sounded more incredulous than anything else.

Armand stared down at his jeans, worrying at the seams of the dark gray denim.

"To answer your question: no, I'm not a virgin, but also, I have never..." He trailed off, his gaze darting around the room before settling on the helm of Lestat's maroon t-shirt as he lay propped up beside him.

Never what?

"Never what, Armand?"

"Forget it." He lifted the bottle to Lestat's mouth, tilting it back and holding it in place for him when he accepted. "Let's do something fun, yeah?"

Lestat nodded as he chugged the equivalent of three shots before pushing the bottle away, ran a hand down Armand's inner thigh, and reached over to kiss and suck at his throat.

Armand liked it, and Lestat liked doing it. "I do you and you do me?" he asked, having had yet to find his groove with Armand when Louis wasn't in bed with them, telling them what to do to each other.

Armand sighed as his hand curved over Lestat's shoulder, clearly finding the prospect attractive. Lestat already had a hand under the mesh top, grazing the soft hairs on Armand's lower abdomen, dipping two fingers below the waistband, ready to yank down his pants and slide into position when-

“Wait,” Armand smacked at his back and Lestat groaned in frustration, burying his face onto the giant paisley pattern on the duvet beside Armand’s hip, keeping his fingers right where they were until further notice.

"You're killing me, Armand. You're really killing me," he grumbled, humping the bed once for good measure – which predictably had the opposite of the intended effect and did nothing to alleviate the problem.

Armand shoved his shoulder this time, hard. “And you’re so melodramatic! Are you this whiny when it’s just you and Louis? Unbelievable.”

Lestat peered up at him through his hair, trying to force his body to cooperate with his brain and vice versa. “He likes it,” he countered back, feeling and sounding not unlike a chastised child. “Now, getting back to business,” he adjusted to nestle his forehead against Armand’s ribcage, “Was that ‘Wait, let’s pause,’ or ‘Wait, let’s stop’?”

A pause.

“It was a ‘Wait, let’s FaceTime Louis and let him watch.’”

Lestat scrambled up as though Armand had said, “The house is on fire.”

“You little minx… That’s fucking brilliant.”

Armand beamed at his approval, a tad too pleased with himself. "Here, call him," he shoved Lestat's own phone in his direction.

“Don’t boss me around,” Lestat quipped, as he did just what Armand had ordered, hitting the video call button and listening to it ring.

“Please. You like it,” Armand countered, ducking as Lestat made to grab his hair in response.

Declined.

“Ouch.”

“Oh, shut up, you little devil! I’m sure he hit the wrong button by mistake. Louis doesn’t decline my calls.”

Declined.

“Sure, keep telling yourself that.”

Smack!

“Did you just hit me?”

“No,” Lestat rolled his eyes, preparing to hit FaceTime again, “Technically, the pillow hit you. The force was all mine, though."

11:45 PM: I’m out at dinner with my family right now. Everything okay?? Love you.

“See,” Lestat crowed, “He’s not ignoring me!”

11:45 PM: Everything’s fine, beautiful! Armand’s here��� We want to show you something ;)

Two minutes. Two minutes of Armand and Lestat staring at the little screen while the three little dots came and went several times.

“Too much?” Lestat’s insecurities began to flare up.

“No,” Armand snatched the phone out of his hand and opened the camera app. “Not enough… Now kiss me and make it dirty.”

Lestat didn’t have to be told twice. It was filthy, obscene, borderline pornographic-

“And… send!”

11:48 PM: look how much we miss you call us xx A

"He's not answering!" Lestat was aware of how juvenile he sounded then, and he couldn't care less.

“Give him a minute! And try to use the brain that I’ve heard you supposedly have… I’m sure he doesn’t want us to meet the rest of his family like this.”

Lestat took a minute to take Armand in – cheeks flushed from alcohol, eyes wild from excitement and arousal, hair mussed from rolling around Lestat’s pillows. He imagined he looked a lot like himself. “You’re right, mon petit,” he replied, unable to resist the endearment that he knew Armand would perceive as a slight to his height.

FaceTime Video.

“As always,” Armand remarked as he hit Accept Call, transforming the haughty, belligerent expression on his face into something downright innocent and wholesome. What an actor. “Hello, lover!”

Lestat leaned over Armand’s chest to ensure he was still in the frame, occupying most of it, in fact. “Bonjour, mon amour!"

Louis on the screen laughed, his green eyes exceptionally bright due to the lighting. “Bonjour to you too, my loves.”

“We miss you,” Armand complained with an exaggerated whine as Lestat interrupted, “But I miss you the most!”

Oh, how beautiful Louis was when he blushed – and it was ridiculously, delightfully easy to make him blush. “It’s not a competition,” he chided, “But I miss you both so much, of course. I can’t wait to be home.”

The rush from the alcohol was fading and Lestat cuddled to Armand’s side, dropping his head to his shoulder to settle his nerves. “I’m glad you picked up,” he whispered. Finally.

“Me too,” Armand nodded. “Where are you, sweetheart? I can’t quite tell.”

"Oh," Louis shrugged. "Hiding in the bathroom. I didn't know what to expect… after that photo." He blushed again and looked away.

Amazing that this was the same person that could have Lestat on one side and Armand on the other every weekend, a cock in each hand as he worked them to completion while murmuring sweet nonsense in a combination of English, French, and Creole.

The memory had Lestat subconsciously bucking his hips against Armand's leg and biting down on his lip to suppress a moan.

“That reminds me,” Armand shifted to sit up as he passed Lestat’s phone back to him. “We wanted to show you something.” Quickly freeing himself from his pants and underwear before snatching the phone right back, patting his inner thigh for Lestat’s benefit. “Go on then,” he told him.” He touched the screen and leaned back at an incline, “Camera’s on you, brat.”

Heard Louis gasp as he watched Lestat kiss his way down Armand’s navel, the tip of his cock grazing Lestat’s chin as he whimpered and squirmed in anticipation. “Don't drag it out,” he begged and when Lestat raised an eyebrow, he added, “We can't keep Louis in the bathroom all night.”

“Yes,” Louis sounded breathless, “Do it, Lestat.”

"Just where do the two of you get off, speaking to me this way?" He teased, drawing out the moment, knowing good and well the vision he presented to his captive audience. Hair escaping from the low ponytail to frame his face, the black eyeliner smudged around his eyes, making them appear massive and more mysterious, lips red and shiny and glistening from spit and precum.

Fluttered his long eyelashes shut and focused on taking Armand down to the hilt in one fluid movement, relaxing his throat and willing it to cooperate. Louis was watching, after all, and Lestat always performed better with a crowd.

“Good, so good, Lestat,” Louis cooed, and Lestat preened at the praise. “Isn't he good, Armand?”

"Uh huh," Armand moaned. "Really good. I'm not gonna hold out, baby. I'm sorry," he apologized to Louis, already linking his ankles over Lestat's back, using his free hand to tug on his hair.

You asked for quick, I'm giving you quick, Lestat wanted to say, but settled for smiling around the cock in his mouth, hyper-aware of both sets of eyes. Hollowed out his cheeks and hummed in the back of his throat, knowing he loved it when Armand did that to him.

"It's okay, love. Let go when you're ready." Fuck, that man's voice could hypnotize a lion.

Armand moaned again and shook his head at nothing in particular – the little obscene noises escaping his mouth and increasing in pitch with every merciless suck Lestat gave. “Oh yes, you will,” Louis soothed, “And Lestat will take it all, won't you, darling?”

He felt Armand’s thighs quivering on either side of his head and knew he wouldn't even need to answer Louis either way. He pulled back to grin at the camera, at Armand looking through it, mouth open and tongue lapping at the slit before closing his lips over the head once more as Armand groaned and went rigid, spine arching off the bed while Lestat's hands on his hips pinned him into place.

Lestat took it all, every drop Armand had to offer. Gave his softening cock one last suck for good measure, which earned him a cry from Armand and a "Good boy" from Louis before collapsing onto his side.

That was new. Interesting. Hot. He wouldn't mind an encore later.

“I'll do you now?” Armand's shaky voice cut through his thoughts.

"I don't think you have to," Lestat grimaced, noticing for the first time the mess he had made in his pants. He'd be so single-mindedly focused on putting on a good show, and hadn't realized he'd gotten himself off by grinding into the mattress.

Embarrassing.

"There," Lestat grabbed his phone back, holding it close so Louis would see just his face, see the proof of his labor. "I swallowed your boyfriend's load just like you told me to. Does that prove how much I love you or what?"

“How did this become about that? I know you love me, silly goose.”

“Not silly,” Lestat pouted while Armand narrowed his eyes at him, still too wrung out to move. “I wanted a chance to prove my love,” he grumbled as Lestat swatted at his hand.

“You're both so drunk! Sleep it off, my loves. I have to… clean up… and get back to the table before they start wondering where I am.”

Damn. "Alright," Lestat allowed, feeling the victor if nothing else. "I love you."

"I love you too," Armand's voice sounded small as he pulled himself up, using Lestat as leverage. "Call me later?"

"You'll be asleep! I hope. I love you both. I'll try to text you later." He blew them a kiss that they each pretended to catch, then the screen blinked and the call was over.

Lestat sighed and gently pushed Armand off in favor of getting up and stripping down, rummaging around the dresser for something clean to wear.

“You know what we should do?” Armand spoke loudly to the ceiling.

"What?" Lestat yelled from the adjoining bathroom, lowering his voice as he reentered, appreciating for a moment the fucked-out tableau Armand made.

At least Louis chose well based on aesthetics.

"What should we do?"

"Let's go into the city, it's Friday, and we have nothing better to do."

Not the worst idea Armand's ever had - the antics on the late-night trains in and out of Manhattan were worth the fare alone.

Midnight on Friday meant that most people were either on their way to the graveyard shift or just out and about and looking for a good time like Armand and Lestat. They ambled out of the bus at Port Authority and made their way to the subway at Broadway & W 41st. Lestat tried and failed to drunkenly serenade Armand around the Grand Central stop before bumping into a steel pole, much to the amusement of their fellow passengers.

“We,” Armand twirled around a pole and then dropped himself into Lestat’s lap, “Should get tattoos.”

Quelle surprise from the little imp. “Tattoos? Now? At midnight?”

“Yes.” Armand pursed his lips momentarily. “Tattoos to prove our love to Louis, as you so eloquently put it.”

“What, you’re feeling put out you didn't get to enthrall him tonight and you want to overcompensate?”

Mean, but Armand could handle it.

“I enthralled him plenty!” Armand snapped, arms crossed over his chest. “I just think it would be fun, you know?” tone softening, head to the side in a feigned gesture of submission. “C’mon, Lestat. It would make a great story." He sneered then, and the illusion dissipated, "Unless you're too chicken to do it."

"Chicken?! Who do you think you're talking to?" Lestat's left hand on his lower back kept him from losing his balance at a hard turn.

Intriguing, seeing as Lestat looked like he wanted to shove Armand onto the disgusting subway car floor himself. He settled for yanking him up to his feet by his wrist as though he were handling a toddler, heralding him to the nearest exit.

“If it’s a tattoo you want, we’re getting off here then,” Lestat announced, his voice dripping with irritation and perhaps a tad bit of excitement.

Armand gave him an icy look but made no move to separate his wrist from Lestat’s grasp, following him out of the subway and up the steps to Union Square. The January air cold and unforgiving, and he shivered in Lestat's leather jacket.

Hadn't been paying attention when they left the house – Lestat hadn't mentioned it, but Armand was sure he'd noticed and hoped he wasn't reading into it. Yet Armand was thankful for it now as it hit him at precisely mid-thigh and was infinitely warmer than his own unlined one would have been.

"It's a ten-minute walk to the place where I got mine done. They don't ask for ID if you pay upfront. Cool dude," Lestat seemed to be warming up the idea as they walked hurriedly.

“You have a tattoo? Where?” Armand demanded to know, evidently shocked, as he thought he had already seen every square inch of Lestat’s naked body.

“Guess.”

“I don’t know! Just tell me, for once!”

“You’re such a baby, Armand, I swear,” but there was no malice in it, and Lestat indulged him by pausing long enough to pull down his lower lip, revealing the BRAT tattooed on the inside. “Hurt like a fucking bitch too!”

Armand couldn't help it – he clapped his hands and laughed out loud. "Of course you would!"

“What did Louis think?”

"Told me I was a 'damned fool,' and I was lucky it was where nobody would see it or he would've dumped me for good right then and there."

“Hmm, such a shame it wasn’t on your forehead then.”

“Imp.”

“Idiot.”

Pretty Devil’s Ink was everything one might expect from a tattoo parlor that operated well past midnight and accepted minors as clients. Still, Armand felt a thrill of adrenaline as Lestat held the door open for him, waving him in dramatically.

“Hey, hey! The brat is back!” a big guy boomed in a decidedly Italian-American accent. “And he brought a little friend!”

Armand was about to open his mouth and challenge that statement when Lestat stepped around him to embrace the guy, clapping him on the back. “Hey, Nico! What’s up? Yeah, Armand here was ragging on my ass about wanting a tattoo, so here we are! He has the same problem I did, but you’ll hook him up, right?”

A dashing smile, a wink, an extra $20 on top of the cash Armand procured from his tattered old wallet, and they were going through Nico’s catalog.

More to the point, Armand was going through it while Lestat almost literally bounced from one end of the shop to the other and back – taking a swig from the half-full whiskey bottle he'd stashed under his coat earlier and touching stuff he probably had no business touching.

"So, what do you have in mind?" Nico asked. "And is it one of youse or the two of youse, because you only paid for one."

“I’m not sure yet… But it’s both, right, Lestat? We’re doing it together, right? For Louis?”

Perhaps it was the booze, perhaps it was how all of Armand’s confidence seemed to abruptly disappear at different points throughout the night, perhaps it was because Lestat never could say no to a grand gesture even when he very well should, but Lestat heard himself say, “Yes,” before he realized he’d done it.

Took a seat on the table next to Armand and picked at the black polish on his nails while Armand flipped to another page. “We should call Louis again,” he smirked, phone already out of his pocket. “Get his input.”

Declined.

“Oh, this is rich!”

“Maybe he’s still with his family, Lestat. And wouldn’t it be better as a surprise? As long as we don’t get on our faces… or somewhere equally ridiculous.”

“Whatever. Let’s leave him a voicemail.”

Declined.

“You’re breaking our hearts, mon chéri! …Armand, say something…."

“… going to prove our love to you!”

“… that’s right… prove our love to you!”

“… and then you’ll never leave us again!”

"… that's right! I must say, Armand, you have a dazzling way with words…."

"… both of youse are really drunk…  I don't know if I should be doing this…."

“… we’ll pay you double!”

“… yes, we’ll pay you double!”

“… Lestat, pay the man…."

–

Much more painless this time, given how much more cushioning that particular region of the body contained. Armand still had winced and reached for Lestat’s hand more than once – it was a different kind of pain compared to the ones he enjoyed, and he didn’t do well with the unfamiliar.

Lestat hadn't said much, having now reached the "quiet drunk" stage, but he lingered by Armand's head, allowed him pick of the music ('70s glam rock), and let him play with the tangle of bracelets on Lestat's wrists to distract himself.

Afterward, when Nico had proclaimed the job almost done ("just have to do the bandage"), Lestat took a selfie for Louis. His temple pressed to Armand's left butt cheek, next to the red half-heart – the kind that joins with another to form a whole on a friendship necklace – that had Louis written on it in cursive.

“And… send!”

“Same thing?” Nico asked when Armand stepped off the table and gingerly pulled up his pants. “Opposite heart piece, opposite side? And what goes in it again?”

“That is such a dumb idea, Lestat!”

"No, it's not! It makes perfect sense. Winner gets Louis's first name, loser gets last name! You just don't think you can win!"

“The odds are 50/50!”

“Exactly! So, heads or tails?”

“Fine… Heads.”

“Fuck!”

“I win!”

“Like hell you do, Armand… Last name is the married name anyway. It’s better.”

“That’s the booze rotting your brain, Lestat. Soon there’ll be nothing left.”

“Shut up.”

Armand appeared equal parts entertained and apologetic as Lestat struggled to answer. “It’s a long name, another ridiculous French name.”

"What about just 'DPDL'?" Armand volunteered helpfully. "He'll know what it stands for. So will you, and so will I. Who else is going to see, really?"

The unintended implication that no one besides Louis and Armand would ever see him that intimately again made Lestat's chest ache in a funny way, in a way he didn't want to acknowledge just yet.

“Yeah,” he nodded, climbing onto the table, hiding his face from Armand’s scrutiny. “Yeah, that works.”

–

"I'm going to pass out," Armand complained as they staggered back to the subway station. More so from exhaustion than anything else, the alcohol long gone and having since worn off.

He looked it too, and Lestat caught his elbow as he swayed in place. “You can sleep at my place if you’d like. Nobody’s home till Monday.”

"Thanks," Armand sighed as he linked his arm through Lestat's, both out of a desire to be closer and a need to stay upright. "My 'parents' don't even notice I'm gone. Or they don't care, you know? We're just government checks to them. Yay, foster care."

Lestat didn't know what to say, so he said nothing, but squeezed Armand's hand and hoped the sentiment came across.

“Hey, Lestat.”

They were outside the station now.

“Yeah?”

“I-”

“… You?”

“I-”

An ambulance sped by, the red and blue lights reflecting off Armand’s anguished face.

Oh.

“You don’t have to say it.”

“Why? Because you wouldn’t say it back?”

"No," Lestat brushed Armand's hair back off his face, tucking the thick strands behind his ears, taking a moment to free a rogue curl away from a little earring. "I would. I love you, Armand."

A radiant smile, a sloppy kiss, a sharp nip at his earlobe.

"Prove it then."

[rings-of-power-realm]

10 star reviews about The Rings of Power 💚

The first season isn't even finished yet and already I have recommended this show to friends and family more than any previous media. Every episode so far (5 released) have surpassed my expectations, which were fairly high going in. As someone who has read all of Tolkien's published works (some more than I'd care to admit), anyone saying that "Tolkien is turning in his grave" has absolutely no idea what they're talking about. It was always going to be walking a thin line between creative choices and already established canon, but I can see, so far anyway, that they have absolutely aced it. If the show continues to be as great as it has thus far, I can see this being one of the all time great masterpieces of TV history, and for many years to come. It's incredibly rare that I won't have criticisms of some kind, especially for something I am passionate about, and the only criticism I have of the Rings of Power is that I can't listen to the sound track 24 hours a day, because I have to sleep at some stage. Bear McCreary has written a masterpiece worthy of being pinned up on the wall with Howard Shore's work from the Lord of the Rings.

                                                         🧝

Don't listen to the negative reviews. Some people have an idea of what something should be in their own mind. I too have read mostly all of Tolkien's books. You form a world in your mind from those words. It's yours it's personal. This show is Magnificent. It's a big bold dive into Middle Earth. Beautifully filmed and acted. The first too episodes are structured in a way to set a scene for the multiple storylines for multiple characters which as the series progresses will merge in to one common fight against the darkness. It's absolutely fantastic and if you don't watch it because of someone's snobby 1/10 then you will be missing out.   

                                                        🧙‍♂️

I can't believe people who are giving this such negative reviews. Who cares if it's not the way you think it should be portrayed because of your version of what you think you read from his original works. It is fantastically entertaining, incredibly well shot and produced, and while the story lines were slow to get rolling, and I don't necessarily think that some of the characters lineup with how they were portrayed in the Lord of the Rings movies later, it really doesn't matter. These are NEW. I can't wait for each episode to come out, I look forward to watching these every week, and I would love to be able to see all of them in the theater. The first two we saw through a free preview, and I wish I could watch every single episode on a huge screen! Enjoy them for what they are.

                                                          🏹

This is the first prequel I have ever seen that was not a disappointment. I love the acting, the faithfulness to Tolkien's vision, the use of reworked ideas/themes/dialogue from the Lord of the Rings, and the compelling worldbuilding. It is important to remember that this is an interpretation, not an adaptation, as this story is based on timelines in the Appendices to LOTR and not on Tolkien stories. Therefore, the showrunners had to invent story arcs and characters to flesh out the story. If they had note done this, then the show would be boring and empty. They did a great job filling in the gaps and told a story that I have already rewatched many times.

                                                         🧝🏿‍♂️

I almost didn't watch because of other reviews but I've learned to not even pay much attention to them. This feels just like Lord of the Rings to me. It could actually be its own movie. The acting is great, the scenery and graphics are amazing. I've been hooked and entertained since the first episode! Can't wait to see more.

                                                         🗡️

I was putting off watching this for a while but one night I couldn't find anything to watch and I put this on and now I'm glad I did. It's the first thing I look forward to after a long day of work. I think the plot is fantastic. I read a review that said they didn't know where the plot was going but how can you not? It's very easy to follow. I'm in love with the series already.

I am blown away by the quality of this production. There is nothing like it. Although it is not an original story written by JRR Tolkien, it is an interesting one; an important backstory.

Although the story unfolds slowly, like in most series, it has a decent amount of action and suspense. Watch it and indulge yourself in Middle Earth. And about all the criticism... This is my take: To me, there are two Middle Earths. (1) The original one that you have imagined when reading the books. (2) The world created by John Howe, Alan Lee, Peter Jackson, make-up artists, actors, etc., etc. This series fits right into the later one and does it justice.

                                                       🍂

Don't believe those fools who are giving bad ratings and negative reviews. I don't know why so much hate for this show. I'm so obsessed with this show right now and have watched all the six episodes non-stop and wanting more soooo badly. I mean the acting, the scenes, the dialogues and above all the VFX are soooo beautiful put together that will make your mind blown by this masterpiece. I've really enjoyed and didn't look away for a second while watching. It really took me to the place where I couldn't have imagine in my dreams. Please guys stop giving the bad ratings and reviews to a show like this one. This show deserve all the love and not the hate. We all should appreciate the work and efforts put in this show.

                                                        🔮

I think this prequel was beautifully done. The visuals are stunning, and story is excellent. There is a very satisfying last episode of season 1. I'm excited to see more. I had no problem adjusting and accepting the younger version of known characters, specifically Galadriel and Elrond. I think the acting and writing felt true to Middle Earth. I'm a fan of the books (Hobbit, LotR and The Silmarillian) which I read before the movies were released. I'm thrilled to have new Tolkien inspired material even if it's from the imagination of someone else, it is brilliant and a wonderful addition to the Middle Earth lore. There seem to be too many of the instant gratification society who were too impatient to wait for the payoff. Looking at the dates of many of the reviews is frustrating seeing that people couldn't reserve judgement until 10/14 after the season could be viewed as a whole. People have become to used to being able to binge a new show in a few days and not have to wait and dwell over what might happen and the new information presented in each episode. It has been exciting to see it unfold week by week. I'm glad for the return to this method of releasing a new series.                                                

Link to the 10 star reviews🍄

[citrivenus]

Written Dreams and Photographed Memories

Chapter 1 — Small Town Shenanigans

song inspo: Jesus, Etc. — Wilco Mama’s Boy — Dominic Fike Chandelier — Will Paquin Harness Your Hopes – B-Side — Pavement

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

ENTRY 1 — Mar. 14 20xx

sometime around December, my friends and i decided to try making a scrapbook of sorts. polaroid photos, goofy little notes, drawings, stickers, etc. we even planned to take trips to different places to take pictures and make memories. So when January came around, we bought everything we needed. Juno bought the sketchbook, while Teagan had a short list of things we could visit. Most, if not all, were out of state. No one would blame her for the ideas; our city can only entertain for so long. She’s always been the extroverted and adventurous type. And I bought the Polaroid camera and the film.

After telling Carson about the scrapbook, she suggested I keep a journal, too. She said it would be a healthy outlet for my emotions and thoughts, so I figured I’d entertain her suggestion, at least for a while. Maybe it won’t be so bad. It helps me get out the things I can’t tell others without possibly getting locked up in a psych ward.

After having a routine down, you’d think life would be easier to manage. Sure, it’s boring, but consistency is better than unexpectancy.

Routines are easy to form most of the time. Ironically enough, they’re also easy to disassemble. A routine has kept me sane in this town. While it’s not a horrible town, you get tired of it eventually. A small town on the East Coast isn’t always excitable. It has its moments, though.

The most exciting thing you can get is from the movie theater on 12th Street or the mall down on Junesburro Lane.

There’s not much, but it's home, I guess. There’s nothing extravagant about this town, which is nice. It won’t disrupt my routine.

While i enjoy my routine, i’d like to leave this town. Maybe explore the states? Or just settle somewhere else. The only problem is that my family is here, and i’d hate to leave them behind. i know that once i go, i likely won’t come back.

— end of entry —

— — — — — —

Crunching footfalls trudged down the road with the occasional car passing by the young adult—who was flicking through his phone, looking for music to listen to through his earbuds and an army green satchel slung over his shoulder.

Cars passed, blowing his hair in front of his face, which he moved back with his hand. He’d be driving to work if his car wasn’t in a mechanic’s shop. Not only would it be faster, but it’d be safer, too. Not like this town is dangerous; the most danger anyone could get into would be from human error… Thinking about it, that can be dangerous.

Reaching the intersection, he quickly glanced at each side of the road. Cars drove down the road, and he waited for an opening before gunning it to the other side. He adjusted his satchel on his shoulder and the hood of his jacket as he walked along the paved sidewalk that soon became a dirt and dead grass trail. ‘Why are the sidewalks never consistent in this town?’ He thought, grunting as he jogged down the man-made sidewalk and through a parking lot to the convenience store. He jumps up the curb and to the store’s entrance, grasping the door handle, opening the door, and slipping inside the shitty convenience store. The little bell above the door chimed as the door opened and shut, his Docs Marten’s quietly thumping against the grubby tile floor. The cashier at the counter gave him a tired greeting.

“Hey, Mikey, how ya’ doin’? You on yer way to work?”

“Hey, Marcus. I've been doin’ okay. I figured I’d come up and grab some snacks and bug you.” 

Marcus let out a chuckle and replied something that the young adult didn’t hear. Mike walked down the aisles, grabbing snacks before going to the fridges. He looked around for Monster Energy drinks, grabbing four different flavors.

With his arms full of his goods, he awkwardly approached the counter, where Marcus stood behind it.

  The young adult on the other side of the counter—was waiting for Marcus to finish ringing up his items while his eyes wandered behind the counter. “...You think you could snag me a pack o’ Marlboro Reds?” Mike mumbled as he dug out his wallet from his hoodie pocket. Marcus snorted, causing Mike to look up at him.

“Fat chance… $28.19 is yer total, kid.”

Mike scoffs, rolling his eyes and pulling out his money—a 10, three 5s, three 1s, and some change. He sat it on the counter and slid it to the cashier. Marcus took the money off the counter. “I’m 20. ‘M no kid…” “Sure… Says the one who asked me to sell cigarettes to them illegally.” Mike huffed, pocketing his wallet and reaching for the bag’s handles. Marcus retrieved a pack of Marlboro Reds from the shelves before swiftly turning back to the register and deftly pressing the keys.

"...'Fore you go, ya need'ta pony up 'nother $13," he announced.

Michael glanced at him, silently questioning the demand. Marcus leaned closer with a smirk.

"Ya want yer cigarettes or not, kid?"

Michael grinned, retrieved his wallet, gathered the remaining cash, and handed it over to Marcus, who chuckled as he accepted the money.

Fortunately, it covered the cost of the cigarettes. Marcus tossed the pack and receipt into Michael’s bag with the rest of his snacks and drinks before he snagged the bag off the counter and let it hang by his side. “Now don’t go tellin’ nobody, ‘kay? I’on’t need the owner or bears on my ass now.” Michael nodded, mumbling an ‘okay’ and turned on his heel to leave, checking his watch. 1:45. He had fifteen minutes to get to work before getting another write-up for being late. Again.

He opens his satchel, shoving his snacks and drinks inside wherever they’d fit before closing it back up. He jumped off the curb and jogged down the street to work.

[bitacrytic]

Hi hello do you have more thoughts on Kinnporsche world tour that you would like to share?

Personally, I'm really glad that as cringy as their dancing and songs can be, I'm really really glad that they're taking an effort. Idk how other SE asian dramas do publicity tours but for me this is really unexpected. I've mostly only heard of meet and greet, q&a, signings etc. The whole ass performances, musicals, singing and dancing is just... Is this the norm? Idk I'm blown away regardless.

Please let us hear what you think of the tour??

Thoughts

♡♡♡

I do not know if this is the norm. 🤷🏿‍♀️

I love everything I have seen in the tag and on tiktok. Truth be told, I might not be able to sit through 4 hours of the show, in one stretch. So, getting it in bits and pieces has been a treat.

I do not care that it's cringy. I like it. It's gay chaos and I like that they keep going from horny to unhappy. It's a toss up of what I'll see each time I see a new post.

I like that the tour, and the show, has carried these 16 men along like they're the avengers. It would have been so easy to focus on the main six and let the rest fall behind. But they've been consistent about this. Is this normal in bl promos? Someone please help. Do other bls include friends of the main characters? Or characters who had very little screentime?

♤♤♤

Fears

♡♡♡

1. We might get bored if we see the same show in every arena. (However, the fact that D1 and D2 were slightly different gives hope that we might see variations)

2. They will be sensored in a lot of places. Think about it. People go to theater to watch men and women kiss on stage, in romance plays and such. But one kiss from kinnporsche and people were up in arms to the point that they had to sensor it the next day. And this was in a Thai arena. Imagine what it would be like in other countries. We got unhinged fuckdom in Thailand, which means that other conservative places will have more set of rules and things to ban from happening in their arena

♤♤♤

Hopes

♡♡♡

1. If we're not getting a second season, I'd like to see more scenes that weren't included on the show. For example that TimeTayTem scene. It was very, very welcome. If they switch up the main couples scenes every time, I would be glad. Like, we've seen the kp pier kiss, twice and the vp breakdown and the kc breakup. If they decided to use other scenes from each couple, in other arenas, it would keep things fresh. But ALSO give us a chance to see scenes that weren't in the show

2. I hope they're making money. Because this endeavor is taking these men off the market. I imagine that, right now, they're all hot cake. This would have been the perfect time for most of their careers to take off. But that won't happen because they're engaged in a post-series world tour. I hope the money is worth it.

3. I hope they're all good. I hope their pillows are cold and their beds are fluffed. I hope they sleep well, rest and exercise. I hope they're all getting railed as regularly as they want. I hope that none of them have family members that are ashamed to see them do this on the world wide interwebs. I hope they're having as much fun as they look like. I hope that they have a safe journey around the world and end up back at home, in one piece.

😁😁😁

[clarktooncrossing]

Giraffe's Eye View: Christmas Specials Special (2023) | A Christmas Carol Goes Wrong

Chestnuts are roasting on an open fire. Jack Frost is nipping at your nose. Mom and dad can hardly wait for school to start again. All the dogs in the neighborhood somehow learned to bark Jingle Bells in sync. Yet retail workers are still more annoyed with Mariah Carey. Snow is getting shoveled, tossed, and formed into sentient beings leading parades without permits. It makes for an excellent distraction as the Krampus abducts children for bad behavior. Fruitcake is exchanged only to find its permanent home in the garbage. Terrorists have hijacked the Holiday office party right before your boss can give you a Jelly of the Month Club membership as your bonus. And of course, the Turducken has returned to wreak its fiery vengeance upon an unsuspecting world! If all this doesn’t put you in the Christmas spirit, perhaps these following Holiday specials will!

Greetings people of today and robots of tomorrow! It is I, Santa Clark, your geeky giraffe friend with a deep love of Christmas! My obsession for the yuletide is rivaled only by Maleficent’s hatred for it, which is saying a lot considering she once teamed up with Mad Madam Mim to kidnap the literal Spirit of Christmas. Yes, that really happened. I know this due to my annual pilgrimage to the Island of Misfit Specials, home to obscure or nerdy festive media ranging from movies, TV episodes, and comics. It’s no easy journey. Constantly I find myself confronted by sinister snowmen, genocidal gingerbread men, and worst of all, crappy commercials. Getting stabbed in the foot by a candy-cane wielding cookie is one thing, but I swear I’ve seen that ad for Wilbur’s White Elephant Gift Emporium more times than I’ve seen Miracle on 34th Street! Sometimes at night I catch myself reciting that jingle. Wilbur’s White Elephant Gift Emporium: Where Christmas meets Convenience! Huh, maybe Maleficent had a point.

Nah, my deep-rooted appreciation for this time of year can weather even the most moronic marketing! It helps that most of the merry media I’ve seen have put me in the perfect Holiday mood! Examples include the time a Ninja Turtle found himself trapped in a truck full of stollen toys, a drunk department store Santa stumbling onto a wish-granting magic bag, Big Bird nearly becoming a popsicle, Gwenpool waking up in a world where Galactus took the place of jolly ol’ Saint Nicholas, a terrifying tree stump trying to slaughter some saps over a stupid ship war, and the year when Death gave the Little Match Girl the greatest gift of all. Needless to say, I thought I had seen it all. That is, until I took my friends on a trip to the Island, tasking them to find me new, strange, seasonal specials to review! Some of them were fair, finding me festive favorites as comforting as coco in front of the fireplace. Others were fiendish, wanting to feed off my misery like Gremlins after midnight. Regardless of how naughty or nice my companions were, I’ve compiled all of their suggestions into a makeshift advent calendar! So stay tuned everyday until Christmas to see how badly my buddies can shred what little sanity I have left.

On the eleventh day of Christmas, my buddies gave to me...

Freddy Mercury once said the show must go on! It’s a credo that The Cornley Polytechnic Drama Society takes to heart. For better or worse. You can bet your butts that any production they undertake is bound to be a disaster. Actors will be injured, props will be destroyed, the set will randomly combust at least once, and grandmas will get run over by reindeer. Or more accurately, foes of Doctor Who will get run over by elderly aunts. Still, the one thing you can say about a Cornley Drama play? They’re anything but boring! It’s why the Goes Wrong brand of comedy has become so beloved over the last decade. Much like the Simpsons before them, Mischief Theater began entertaining audiences with their own chaotic Christmas capers before airing two bonkers specials on the BBC. Said specials adapted both Peter Pan and A Christmas Carol, my fellow Figment fan Hannah (princessofDisney27) requesting I look at the latter. Thankfully both can be found for free on YouTube so long as you don’t mind ads. Who’s more miserly: Ebeneezer Scrooge or the folks running YouTube? You make the call! In any case, let’s look at A Christmas Carol Goes Wrong to see what they get right.

A lot, obviously. Starting with the fact that these British bozos have hijacked the show. Turns out the channel best known for Fleabag didn’t want these misfits back after botching Peter Pan last year. I don’t see what the big deal is! Just because Peter’s shadow caught on fire, Tinkerbell nearly got electrocuted to death, and Captain Hook hijacked a Teletubby doesn’t mean these talented actors shouldn’t be given a second shot. In case you’re wondering, yes, all that actually happened. Have I mentioned these programmes are insane? This one is no different as the cast try to retell this Charles Dickens classic. 

Making up said cast is Chris Bean (Henry Shields), portraying the main miser much to the ire of his louder and larger costar Robert Groves (Henry Lewis). Not contempt with playing the non-speaking Ghost of Christmas Future, the egotistical maniac makes it his mission to completely incapacitate Chris. In the process he falls through the floor in Scrooge’s home, shoots renowned screen actor Derek Jacobi in the neck with a blow dart, smashes a large crate over poor Tiny Tim (Ellie Morris) before assuming the role himself, and generally proves why he’s my favorite member of the ensemble. Seriously, Robert might be the biggest reason my cheeks began hurting from laughter. It’s true what he says, anything you can act he can act LOUDER! Even his phantom persona is loud. Whenever this creep cadaver hits its head on the set you can hear Robert going, “Ow.” By gosh is genius!

Besides the constant bickering between Henry and Henry, Dennis Tyde’s (Jonathan Sayer) Bob Cratchet is frequently forgetting his lines. The recurring gag is used to epic effect here, the nervous nitwit having to utilize the surrounding set to recall his dialogue. His colleagues best hope none of the backdrop is turned around or blocked, otherwise Dennis has no hopes of remembering even the simplest lines. He has no coins in his coin purse or a clue as to what’s going on. Uoy sselb! It’s certainly frustrating for Sandra Wilkinson and her boyfriend Max Bennett, portrayed by then real-life couple Charlie Russel and Dave Hearn. No idea if they’re still together, but it makes for cute on-screen chemistry. Especially when it’s a case of opposites attracting, Sandra the screen-loving Miss Piggy type while Max is a doofus unclear on the concept of ‘fiction’. He at least makes for a great Ghost of Christmas Present despite weeping over a false presumption that his love plans to dump him once the story’s over. Look on the plus side buddy, at least that’s one less gift you have to wrap! 

I joke, but honestly all the emotions land perfectly, both humorous and heart-felt. All of these weirdos are way more interesting than Whatsherface from Power Rangers. Blame that on a balance of witty writing and amazing acting. There’s more members of the company I’ve yet to mention who all kill it whenever on screen. Like when Annie Twilloil (Nancy Zamit) gets a prop gun stuck to her hand after an unfortunate glue incident, Jonathan Harris (Greg Tannahill) learning why Jacob Marley hated his chains so much, or technical director Trevor Watson (Rob Falconer) raining pizza down on London before wrecking it like Godzilla! It’s too funny for words, I’M DYING!

However, where it fails is in the actual adaptation part. Like most iterations, the devil’s in the details. Some incarnations fare better than others when streamlining the story. Not so much here, mostly in regards to Scrooge’s visits by the spirits. His past is almost entirely skipped over, sole focus placed on the break up with Belle. Eh, I’m sure his crappy childhood, deceased sister, or first job at Fezziwig’s isn’t important. Luckily they make up for these failings by giving the Cornley cast their own spin on the story. Chris is ready to move on and leave his troupe behind, though not before selfishly stabbing them in the back first. Upon seeing his character’s grave he realizes how selfish he’s been, apologizing to his amigos before finally letting Robert play the part. Rather a clever subversion, actually. Though really, even if you’re like me and are hung up on changes by that, you’ll be too busy busting a gut to notice. Compared to other Christmas Carols this is by far the funniest. Make up your mind Bob, are you gonna give to charity or not? WANG!

Though if your taste for brilliant British comedy isn’t satisfied yet, feast your eyes on The Nativity! In this second season episode of The Goes Wrong Show, the BBC has finally cut funds to these twits, hence why the birth of Christ is sponsored by Brookshaw Corporate Finance. Even Jesus loves cash! Blessed be the writers who thought up this running joke. Later when the Three Wise Men visit Joseph (Hearn) and Mary (Russel) in the manger they’re given gold standard accreditation, frankincense-ible advice on all their financial interests, and low-cost myrrh-gage rates. Badum tish! Fear not; for behold, it’s more than just painful puns. We also have the piano catching fire during a performance of Silent Night, desserts in place of a desert, an idiot innkeeper, nine wise men, John the Baptist, and Robert Grove as the Archangel Gabriel. All I need to say here is: Halo! On top of the cunning comedy, the set design is stupendous! It’s made to look like a pop-up book, pages turning to reveal a new location full of new mistakes to be made. I’d go on about other yuletide offerings by these professional screwups, but really I should save them for future reviews. For now I’ll close the book on the Cornley Drama Society and turn the page to reveal a familiar frog.

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[ofasphodel]

(evan mock / cis-male / he/him / asphodel ) did you just see FITZGERALD ANDERSON-CORRA walking through the halls? they’re a 23 year-old FOURTH-YEAR FILM STUDIES student from SYDNEY, AUSTRALIA. rumour has it they’ve been a member of praeditus since they were in their SECOND YEAR. i’ve heard they have a tendency to be RECKLESS and COCKY, but ENDEARING and CONFIDENT, too. well, anyway, you’ll know if you spot FITZ again because they always seem to remind me of THE SEAMLESS GLIDE OF A SKATEBOARD, GOOD FEELINGS UNDER BAD INFLUENCES, CREDIT CARDS IN EVERY SHADE OF BLACK, A SNICKER WHERE THERE SHOULD BE A FROWN.

background:

fitzgerald anderson-corra has been called many things – “fuckboy prince of sydney” being his favorite, but the submission box is always open – but nobody has ever dared to call him boring. 

he was adopted as a baby, before he could ever conceive of anyone else as a parent, and he was given the atrocious name of fitzgerald after mama anderson’s deceased father. fitz grew up richer than god and all his disciples (or perhaps her disciples in this, the year of barbie), adopted by a lesbian power-couple who had more money than they knew what to do with. as such, they lavished their wealth on their three children, and fitz never knew how to want something, only how to get it.

this became his philosophy in life: whatever he set his sights on (whether it be things or people), it had to be his. and honestly, it was easy to fulfill these endless desires, being as charming and persuasive as fitz was.

he remembers clearly the first time he made a room full of people really laugh. he was eight years old, and his mothers were having a group of people over for dinner. they were going around the table, and everyone was tasked with doing an impression of a celebrity. fitz chose björk (which, looking back, was quite advanced for his age), and after just a couple sentences in his best icelandic accent, the whole room was hysterical. it felt incredible, like love and respect and power all wrapped into one. with every joke that fitz has told since, he’s been chasing that feeling – he’s done his fair share of drugs, but no high compares to that. 

he spent his teenage years surfing the sydney coast during the day and hopping from one party to the next by night. he made easy friends with everyone, and if he didn’t, it was only because they were jealous of his good looks and seamless charisma. at school, he thrived in any activity that put him in the spotlight, whether it was playing the comic relief in a theater production or writing funny cartoons in the school newspaper. fitz was a bright and shining star, and even though he was middle-of-the-pack when it came to pure academics, every teacher and student alike swore that he was going to do something great with that mind of his.

it all changed when he was sixteen. they never should’ve been drinking as much as they were. they never should’ve dared each other to climb higher and higher, up onto the roof even. but they did, and fitz lost more than just a brother that night – he lost a piece of himself.

fitz spent the rest of that summer indoors. no surfing, no parties, no laughter. his mothers assumed it was grief, but guilt is what it actually was. fitz stared at the ceiling and replayed that night endlessly, unable to come to any conclusion besides the fact that fitz’s own recklessness had killed his brother. it ate away at him. 

when the summer ended, so did fitz’s period of mourning. he was determined not to let others see how the summer’s events had affected him, so he was back to fitz as usual, all the smirks and snickers included. he shut down anyone who wanted to talk about what happened with his brother, pushing it down lest it consume everything that made fitz special. he was a comedian, goddammit, and nobody wanted to watch a sitcom episode where the main character does nothing but cry and self-loathe.

he graduated with his sights set on meraviglia, determined to attend the best university that his mothers’ names could get him into and, conveniently, the same school as bindweed. his high school graduation speech received an average of three laughs per minute.

when professor dupont slipped an asphodel in fitz’s direction, he wasn’t very surprised. fitz exists as one of the most likable figures on meraviglia’s campus, and everybody agrees that his charisma is going to make him a big deal one day, though even fitz isn’t exactly sure what comes after college. he’s studying film and media with the hopes of perhaps migrating to the big screen, whether that’s as a writer or an actor, but he also has hidden desires to make something that’s entirely his own – a late-night show, when he’s feeling especially ambitious. 

but fitz is also a person that’s scared of failure and rejection and working too hard, so for now, he’s planning on making it through his last year and then spending some time doing what he does best: traveling the world, racking up the laughs, and bringing a party with him wherever he goes. of course, professor dupont’s disappearance is disturbing to him and is certainly a wrench in his plans to live it up as a senior, but fitz is determined to make something positive out of his last year in praeditus nonetheless.

[literaturewithliz]

Yay i'm glad your matchups are open! I would like to request a romantic matchup for The Outsiders please 🙏 i'm heterosexual, my pronouns are she/her and my zodiac sign is Capricorn. I'm shy and don't talk much at first, so i usually don't go up and befriend people. That's unless you're friendly or i get good vibes from you, then i approach you. Once we're friends, i open up and talk more. I'm also playful and make you laugh. When i'm bored i space out and daydream. I'm usually sweet, but if you're rude, i'll be rude right back. I'm the person others come to when they need advice or to vent. I'm dependable, easy-going, a little messy, creative and lazy sometimes.

Likes/hobbies: anything cute, music, windy days, rain, playing video games, hanging out with my friends, theater, dancing, bunnies, chips, candy

Dislikes: hot climate, feeling stressed, naggers, being told what to do, spiders, snakes, not having any time to myself, insects, misplacing my earbuds

Thankf for the request! I hope you enjoy!

I match you with… Two-Bit Matthews!

I think what made me believe that two bit is perfect for you is the line where you say that you are usually sweet but if someone is rude to you you will be rude right back, which immediately reminded me of him and how he is usually very easy going but mess with him or someone he loves and you are screwed. You mentioned that one of your dislikes is people who nag others and I feel like two bit would agree with that wholeheartedly. You also mentioned being the one others go to for advice, and I think that is something two bit needs despite his easy going nature just because i don’t think he usually feels like he has people he can vent to, because the gang isn’t very touch feely except on rare occasions and I feel like that would close two bit off from being able to depend on someone emotionally. But with you, he knows he has someone that will listen with no judgment.

[innsjovide]

Alright this is quite a lot but I'm curious... 2, 7, 10, 11, 12, 19 for Sadihak?

oc ask game

its not too much! also im gonna do this with young gods sadihak instead of tourn sadihak unless the response would be extremely different between the two

2. what sort of music would they like? have you thought about what genres or bands do they lean towards? do they have a favorite song?

of the five savant, sadihak is the most well-versed in music. they're a trained vocalist, and an avid enjoyer of the performing arts (music and theater, because they're a musical theater bitch). Because of setting purposes, most of the music in young gods is old instrumental music, but if you were to put them in the modern day, sadihak would probably be a fan of most music. i think they'd especially like jazz

tourn sadihak listens to lady gaga, this is canon

7. favorite animal? why?

snakes! all the savant have animal associatations, and sadihak's is snakes. i'm just making that their default favorite animal because it's easy. the specific snake that is associated with sadihak is called the watersnake in universe, but it's just a fancier version of the real life water mocassin, which is a venomous, water-dwelling pit viper native to the marshy regions of the southeastern united states. i chose snakes for sadihak's animal because of their generally devious and sneaky reputation, and water mocassins because sadi has an association with water as well (and they live in a very marshy region of the young gods world)

10. if they wear jewelry, what kind? do they prefer silver or gold? do they have a favorite gem?

sadihak wears a lot of jewelry. on any given occasion, they can be seen wearing earrings, a choker, a pendant necklace, a waist chain, and bracelets. they only wear gold jewelry, since silver clashes with the white they often wear, and while i don't think they'd often wear jewelry with gemstones, i can see them wearing some tanzanite or aquamarine

11. what do they have in common with you? how are they different? would you get along with them?

sadihak is like me because we're both nonbinary bisexual disaster whores /j. in reality, sadihak gets alot of traits from me (tho not as many as some of the other savant). they're passionate about the arts, they're fun, they're a disaster. tho, i like to think i'm not as dramatic as sadihak. i would not get along with them in any universe i write them in and that's why i love them so much. they'd suck to be around.

12. how long have they been around? do you know their birthday? is their birthday the day you made them or another day? what do they think of celebrating birthdays?

sadihak was actually the last of the savant i created, and the last to be fully developed. i created them around late october 2021, tho their birthday is june 8th so they can be a gemini (disclaimer- months dont have the same names in young gods but im too lazy to come up with a calendar system on the spot). sadihak probably cares the most about birthdays of the savant (barring petrai, who only cares about them so she can track ages), but even then, they don't care much. it's nice to be celebrated, but also, once you've had twenty-five thousand something, they get a little boring. (and no one wants a reminder of how old you're getting)

19. are they quick to anger? what sets them off?

sadihak is, at least on the surface level, very slow to anger. if they're upset with something, they won't let it show. instead, they'll keep up a calm, relaxed facade. they're actually very quick to anger, and is actually upset about something at any given time, but they won't show it unless they're really pissed off (and even then, it's usually just a slip of the mask- its very rare they actually get angry at anyone). sadihak likes to keep their cool and appear on-top of things, even when it compromises their mental well-being. they're most upset when they feel they've been betrayed or disrespected.

tourn sadihak, adversely, is incredibly quick to anger and incredibly vocal about it. unlike their young gods counterpart, they don't have much to loose by being vocally angry, so they'll be mad at whoever they want, however they want. this often lands them in weird fights with weird teenagers, but that's not entirely their fault. they will often try to avoid confrontation if possible, but when they're pissed off, it shows.

ty for sending me one of these! i love doing them :] sadihak is one of my most beloved blorbos, they live in my brain rent free. feel free to send more if u want!

[intrepidradish]

Media: Star Wars

Year/my age: 2018/28

What drew me to the media:

It was 2017, the Last Jedi came out, and I stewed in the "hmm, that had a certain zest to it" for about a month. I liked Star Wars before like any child raised in the 90s with a father. We went the prequels and heard the complaints coming home from the theater. My dad died in October of 2017, but he did see The Force Awakens. I wonder what he would have thought about The Last Jedi, where Luke is a jaded, angry, failure of an old man. Probably like the rest of the old guard, spitting inconsolable rage.

At the time, I was in a newish job and so bored stupid I was depressed about it. I was living alone for the first time, in a new city and state, and I wanted to die. Pretty good recipe to get obsessed.

What made me a fan:

I am nothing if not consistent. The dark prince trope really fucking chest stabs me. I am a reylo. Or at least, I was. The Last Jedi is a very polarizing film. If someone is talking about it, they either love it or hate it.

Regardless, I think Rian Johnson is a better storyteller than JJ Abrams could ever hope to be. Even if you are annoyed about his choices, he has a point of view. JJ Abrams is the most milquetoast of writers, which is why we got at the end of the sequels the most milquetoast of stories. An average of opinions is the most dull one. He made few narrative stances, but a few were quiet clear. Rose and Finn and Poe were abandoned, and Reylo was shot in the face.

But those weren't things that made me a fan, just abruptly killed me interest.

So what itch did Reylo scratch? It's like Beauty and the Beast. Good, innocent heroine! Mean, evil villain. It's very simple. Enemies to Lovers is so ripe a plot device. Does she get turned? Does he get redeemed? How? Why? In what world or situation?

Kylo Ren is sort of an interesting monster too. He's a spoiled manbaby with a sword. Rey was pretty cookie cutter a heroine, but she had a spike of anger in her, which I always appreciate for storytelling.

I don't know what was the breaking point to read fanfiction, but I did, and I read fanfiction for months and months and months.

The meta was the best too, because everyone was trying to predict the next movie. Everyone thought that Disney was quite smart (they aren't), that they were making history (they weren't). But Star Wars has such lengthy, decades of lore, the meta pulled from everywhere.

Have I written fanfiction for it?

I tried, but it was terrible. I think I wrote 700 words for it. I did a retelling of that first torture scene where Rey and Kylo met. I never published it, thank god.

Why or why not:

It goes back to the lore thing. Too much of it! Also the fans were...ahem... frothing at the mouth violent.

Opinion on the fandom:

"I am cringe, but I am free."

The most important thing I took away from observing this absolutely dumpster-fire warzone is that you gotta protect yourself first and create a space that you can enjoy. I'm thankful for being a reylo because I was really really enjoying something very controversial. (oh no, two adults in a challenging relationship that may or may not be abusive. The horror. I've never seen that anywhere! Why could I possibly want to read about that?)

But it ripped the bandaid off. I like things that are cringe, and interacting with cringe things have improved my life (dare I say, made me a better person? ...no i darest not say it). It's also given me a lot of confidence in how I interact online. If I don't like something being said. I move on. It's very easy. If someone gets in my face about it, I block them. Do not engage.

I recommend everyone discover their cringe. It feels good. It heals you. Post anonymously. Savor it.

My opinion of the fandom is that its awful. Do not interact with it.

I dabbled again in it for the Mandalorian because I liked Cob/Mando. But even that wore on my patience very quickly.

Would I read again?

Star Wars is huge, but it's also Disney, which tastes bad. I don't watch their shows right now. Can I say I won't be dragged back into it at any point? No, I can't. It could happen again. I'm not immune to the call of massive sci fi universes. I really hope not. I have other things going on that need my attention.