#watch it in theaters it is genuinely worth all your money

[yaolmao]

Unironic out of context event that has recently occurred:

#puss in boots #puss in boots the last wish #shrek #dreamworks #one of THE best movies I’ve ever laid eyes on #watch it in theaters it is genuinely worth all your money #edit: I need more people to talk about their favorite scenes it would make me the happiest person ever #I’ll go first. #the entire movie is my favorite scene #yaoyaps

[the-grimm-writer]

Dabi with a darling who's obsessed with her art, her art being ballet

Cue vantom of the opera music ballet addition.

Also, I'm genuinely so sorry this took so long. I'm getting better at answering requests, I swear 😭😭😭

Mdni

Tw: stalking, paranoia, mentions of unhealthy habits, kidnapping.

You were used to people staring at you. Their eyes glued to you with pure admiration as you gracefully glided across the stage, moving your body in ways that took you years to master.

But this felt different. You felt someone's eyes burning into you with such intensity that any normal person would've broken down from it. Yet if you were one to break, you would've never made it very far. So you continued your performance like chills weren't running down your spine.

Heroes were hard to please. The world's top elite, coming to the theater to watch you, dressed in their finest night apparel. But the moment you started, all their doubts would wash away, watching silently with fascination once the music started.

The crowd broke into applause once you finished your dance, standing up and yelling their praise. It always made those long, painful nights of practice worth it.

As you bowed, you looked up to the audience, your blood running cold as you saw bright blue eyes from the back, hiding away from everyone else. Like a ghost, only you could see.

By the time you get down to greet the audience and discuss your performance, the man with the glowing eyes is nowhere to be scene. You don't know why you look for him, going past the darkest part of the theater and peaking in to see if he's still there, watching you.

Even your walk is elegant, your posture is perfect, back straight, and head held up high. Your voice was soft and feminine as you spoke to the people as they congratulated you.

"That was a stunning performance, my dear!" A tall, balding man with round, thick rimmed glasses eagerly shook your hand, yet you could tell by his crisp black suit and the beautiful younger woman that looked to be in her mid twenties or early thirties that stood by his side looking at you that he obviously had money. "When will you be performing again?"

"I'm here every night, thank you very much."

You smiled like he didn't give you the creeps. One thing your master didn't have to teach you but were thankful that he did. How to keep your admirers happy while maintaining a distance from them.

It continued on and on. You knew most people who attended the theater were wealthy, but you didn't care. You had all you wanted right now. So even as they introduced themselves, you didn't bother to remember their names. Always changing the topic if one got too bold with you.

A dancer's career was like a star, your balletmaster used to tell you. Shine too bright, and it would burn out quickly.

That's what you liked about it being busy, not being able to stay and talk to one person for too long. So whenever someone made you uncomfortable, you easily excused yourself and moved on to the next person. Sometimes, it would last for hours until you were finally able to leave.

There was a continuous cycle in your job. After you perform, you'd go to bed, get showered then something to eat, and then rush back to the studio in the early morning to practice. It was your favorite time to do it. When the sun was on the verge of rising and it was still dark outside. You could practice in peace with no prying eyes to judge you.

Turning the lights on, you walked onto the stage, dressed in your practice outfit. Skin tight nude colored leggings, a black leotard with a small tutu connected to it, and pointe shoes you just recently replaced and broke in. Your hair up in a tight bun, completely out of your face.

Taking a deep breath, you stood on the center stage and got in position, pretending like it was an actual performance as you danced.

It was always something you reminded yourself of when you got the lead role in dances. And whenever you didn't get what you were striving for and it felt like your world was going to come crashing down.

Yet still, you would dance until your feet bled and you physically couldn't anymore. It was painful yet an addicting feeling each time you overcame a boundary you once had and turned it into a new move you mastered.

"Why did you stop?"

Spinning around, you were about to stop until you collided with a person. You were about to apologize, thinking it was one of the other performers or the janitor until he spoke up.

You gasped in shock, turning around and stepping back from him. Those cerulean eyes were something you could never forget. Ever since that night.

"It's you..." Fear twisted in your stomach as you looked at him.

He chuckled at this, casually stepping forward towards you. "I knew you'd recognize me."

"Dabi..." You said breathlessly. It wasn't difficult to know who he was when he was always on the news. Heroes' warning is to be on the lookout for a deadly villain litered in patched scars and black hair. He smirked, knowing you'd seen him before.

"The theater is usually the last place I'd hide in. Too many witnesses." He stepped forward, making you go back. "But those idiots didn't even notice me. Not that I could blame them. That was quite the performance you put on."

You backed away, and he could see in your costume that your body was stiff as a board. Trained to have perfect posture even when just having a discussion with someone.

"Those fools don't deserve you, you know." He spoke up, his voice low and raspy. "They'll do what they do with everyone that has a talent. They'll make you dance like a puppet until you break."

You were stiff as you stood there, watching him circle around you on the stage. "I know what I signed up for," you said softly.

His eyes narrowed. "Then you're just as foolish as they are."

"It's ironic, you know," Dabi chuckled darkly as he stood behind you, placing his hands on your waist. "My father... he always strived for perfection. But even his most precious creation isn't enough for him."

You didn't blink an eye at his cold tone. Used to getting degraded and talked down to whenever you messed up even the slightest in front of your master and the instructors. So brutally harsh it could make even the villains with the blackest of hearts cry.

"Surely you understand," you argued back. "To love something so much, you'll continue to do it even if it kills you."

Though you didn't have a strong or flashy quirk, you made it up in your abilities in ballet. Pouring your heart and soul into your performances so even the untrained eye would be able to tell you aere the best at what you did.

You touched him like the fire that was dancing in his veins. The thing that consumed him aside from his needs for vengeance. Though he knew that obsession ran deep in his genetics. It was just something he never thought would hit him until that night he first saw you.

"That's because perfection doesn't exist."

His breath hit the shell of your ear, hot just like the rest of him, yet it sent shivers down your spine. "Yet here it is in the form of a little dancer."

You could tell how bitter it made him. You understood the feeling well. Every ballerina knew how it felt to be rejected and pushed to the side whenever a younger, prettier dancer came in and took the place they spent years working to get.

"Were you ever warned?" He mused. "Some hero or fuckin rich pig with too much time on his hands could ever use their power and money to snatch you up?"

Of course you were, and you hesitantly nodded your head. Nobody ever thought it would happen to them until it actually did. Hell, Dabi bet his mother thought she'd never wind up in an arranged marriage with his father, abused and locked away in an institution after making her have four children with him.

"I'm my father's son, after all." His scarred hand ran down your smooth cheek, down your chin until it wrapped around your throat and pinned you against him, his other arm snaking around your waist. "Men like us, when we see something beautiful, we have to own it, keep it for ourselves."

"You don't have to be like him." You protested, your heart racing in fear. Dread filled you at the thought of him taking away everything you spent your whole life working for.

"And you don't have to be a dancer." He retorted. "Sometimes we don't have a choice in life (Y/n). Now you're coming with me."

You tried to pull away despite his hand wrapped firmly around your throat, threatening you. "No! You can't do this! I have to perform tonight. I have to-"

"This is a lovely place," he cute you off. "Something even I could appreciate." His grip on your neck tightened as he held his other hand out, making you watch as bright blue fire appeared out of his hand. "Such a rich history. It would be a shame if it all went down in flames."

You weakly nodded your head, bursting into tears as you looked at the stage, the theater, your home on last time as he let his flame die out. He picked you up and threw you over his shoulder. His strong arm held you in place with ease as he walked away.

"Don't worry," he said softly, his smile wide and twisted as you cried. "You can still dance for me."

#yandere dabi #yandere dabi x reader #yandere touya #yandere touya todoroki #yandere touya x reader #yandere bnha #yandere bnha x reader #yandere mha #yandere mha x reader #yandere my hero academia x reader #yandere my hero academia #yandere #yandere x y/n #yandere drabble #yandere fic #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere x darling #yandere writing

[neonlittindia]

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[supercantaloupe]

nearly forgot BUT whenever you feel like it i would like to see your thoughts about damon daunno curly & sean grandillo curly 💛

okay prefacing this by saying this is NOT about their voices. we all know no one else in theater right now can sing like damon daunno. this post is about acting. this also has nothing to do with the fact that sean grandillo doesn't actually have curly hair i'm overlooking that for now

there's such a distinct difference between their portrayals of the character. in simple terms it feels like damon daunno's curly is more charming while sean grandillo's curly is more calculating. it's kind of a subtle difference between them in any given moment, but it adds up a lot over the course of the whole show. and ultimately i think it works MUCH better for curly to be charming, not for the sake of enjoying the performance but for the message that the show is trying to tell

more explanation under the cut bc this is long

(i think it's also distinct enough to be heard through audio alone; if you haven't seen or heard both portrayals and want to compare them i think it's worth listening to some audios from broadway and the tour, though of course the comparison is clearest if you've seen both them as i have)

so curly is the main character of oklahoma!; i wouldn't say he's the protagonist (i would reserve that narrative role for laurey), but he is the first guy we meet and identify with as audience members, and the guy we initially come to root for most. in more traditional productions of ok!, he's a straightforward manly hero. the revival clearly casts a shadow of doubt on this, since the use of silence, darkness, and the changed ending reveal a dark side to curly that, while always present in the text, was never fully explored or exposed until now. i can't in good conscience call the curly of 2019's oklahoma! a hero, watching him very plainly intimidate, suicide bait, and ultimately murder another man (and for what? a girl?).

so curly is no longer a hero; he's morally gray. now we have to ask, why do we let this happen? why do we let such a man as curly get away with being such a bully? why do we let him walk free after committing murder?

here's where the difference between the two actors comes into play, imo. i believe damon's curly is far more compelling than sean's because his performance offers a greater contrast between a likeable hero and a detestable villain.

to me, sean's curly lacks a certain sweetness and charm that is necessary to making curly in 2019's oklahoma! work. he's confident and coolheaded, sure, but every move he makes feels calculated. when he sings about the surrey to laurey and tells her he "made it all up, right outta my head," he sounds like he'd planned that from the beginning to tease her. when he asks her to marry him, right after making a big show of spending all his money (and losing his means of making more as a cowboy) for her, he sounds like he's asking as much if not moreso out of self interest than out of genuine affection. the overall effect is a curly who is less heroic and sympathetic throughout, and more questionably moral, perhaps more selfish, certainly less likeable in an unqualified sense.

damon's curly is completely different. he carries himself with confidence and ease, yes, but he feels more spur-of-the-momen and playful. he gets knocked off his high horse more (so to speak); when he lies about the surrey and says he made it up, it sounds more defensive, like he's trying to save face after laurey sees through his posturing. when he asks for her hand, he sounds genuinely hopeless and frightened, not just because he's broke and jobless, but because he can't imagine going on from here without her. he sounds like a man who's desperately in love. and crucially, he's a man the audience can fall in love with, too.

(the romantic chemistry between each actor's curly and their respective laureys is beyond the scope of this post, but if you want my two cents, i think the lighting does a lot more heavy lifting in the tour to sell their mutual attraction than the broadway production did, which was more emphatic rather than persuasive.)

the effect from this is that, as an audience member, i am more primed to sympathize with damon's curly than sean's in any given scenario; sean's curly makes me wary and wonder what he'll do next, damon's curly convinces me to come along with him for whatever ride may entail.

this is not to say it's necessarily bad or worse to have a main character be unlikeable; that works in a story built for it. but the oklahoma! revival is about making you uncomfortable, making you question things, making you wonder who is worthy of trust or blame or guilt. in the end, damon's curly is more shocking, and makes us question more, precisely because he is so charming and loveable from the get go.

consider the smokehouse scene: this is the first moment we see a new side of curly, one that isn't sweet and charming. he's calmly aggressive and intimidating and uncaring. he tells a man how wonderful it would be if he killed himself, and it seems for a moment like jud is convinced. i am willing to argue that curly's bullying of jud here is the catalyst for everything tragic that happens in act ii -- jud bidding so aggressively in the auction, and being so desperate with laurey that he almost assaults her, and finally orchestrating his own death by curly's hand at the wedding -- it's all curly's fault, ultimately. that is so much more difficult to reconcile as an audience member when curly is a lovable, charming young fellow for every other moment he's onstage.

when sean's curly goes up against jud, it feels planned, premeditated, in character. when damon's curly goes up against jud, it comes out of nowhere, it's shocking and unsettling. and we have to face the fact that we've been supporting a man who resorts to violence to get what he wants this whole time. and then we think, how is that different from jud? why did jud deserve to die while curly got the girl? is it because he's handsome and charming and smooth talking?

how many villains have we mistaken as heroes because of their appearance? how many heroes have we condemned as villains for the same reason? can we even call one man a villain and another a hero without ignoring or missing important parts of who they really are?

2019's oklahoma! asks us to consider how tragedies like this happen, and what role we play in them. (this point is made even more strongly in the broadway production, where the in-the-round and onstage seating and communal meal allowed the audience to literally become a part of the in-fiction community as the actors were.) we are responsible for jud's unavenged death and we are responsible for letting a killer walk free because, like the rest of the territory folks, we looked at curly and were charmed by him enough to overlook his aggressive tendencies, and we looked at jud and determined him an outcast unworthy of sympathy.

curly simply must be charming, trustworthy, deceptively sympathetic, and intensely so, for this tension to be most effective. we have to love him from the start, so by the end of act i we're confused, and by the beginning of act ii we forget and love him again, and by the finale we're punched in the gut.

#oklahoma! #sasha answers #dorsalfin #ey thanks! sorry this is long lmao. i can back up my opinions with bway/tour audio clips as desired #curly mclain #damon daunno #sean grandillo #oklahoma revival #oklahoma tour #oklahoma 2019 #sasha reviews

[yee-fxcking-haw]

•Porcelain Obsession•

Summary: Tamaki has a problem, a bad problem. He's obsessed, he's desperate, and he'll do whatever it takes to have you the way he wants you.

Pairing: Pro Hero Yandere Tamaki Amajiki x Reader (both 18+)

Warnings: Yandere, stalking, noncon voyeurism, mild manipulation and sabotage, mild coercive behavior, male masturbation, panty theft, male ejaculation, cum eating. It's just real graphic, strap in.

A/N: I am hopeless, this will have a second part that will be so much more sinful with gratuitous tentacle content. Just tagged those that interacted with the posted about this fic as usual. This little series was inspire by a tiktok I saw, and I'm literally writing it for the sake of putting one zinger of line in it lol.

Playlist

https://vm.tiktok.com/ZMJbubhQN/

Word Count: 4,184

Part Two: Love Me Tender

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Stunning, astounding, enchanting. You're an angel, you have to be. That's the only explanation for the way you shine, surrounded by some ethereal glow.

Tamaki Amajiki has a problem. No, it's not a problem, it's completely normal to fall in love, he's under a spell. He can't be blamed for it, he never stood a chance. Although, most people would call this a problem, but only people who don't understand.

An ignorant person would have seen him watching you from around the corner for weeks, following you to your house after work under the cover of darkness, and finally, finally getting a glance into your window at night and label him as obsessed or disturbed. He should have felt dirty for that, but he didn't, not even close. He felt almost holy.

He felt like some chosen follower that was allowed to witness a sacred ritual. He watched you all evening with immeasurable reverence. He took note of the way you ate, how intently you read, but his favorite part was watching you settle into your bed and fall asleep.

As soon as he saw it the first time, it became an addiction. Watching your body curl around your pillow, clutching the fabric as you snuggled into it. How sweet you looked, so soft, so innocent. It made his chest ache, it made him feel starved. He had to have you, smell you, feel you.

That was nearly three months ago. Now, he watches you every chance he gets. The days he doesn't get to, he feels like a pitiful addict going through withdrawal. He has to at least speak with you, know your voice, see your skin up close.

During his patrol around the city he comes to the conclusion that it has to be today. He feels like he's losing breath without knowing you, captured by your existence but suffocated by the distance. He will have you, he will do whatever it takes.

°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°

At your age, you should at least have a friend or two, maybe go out on friday, possibly even work another job. None of that ever seems worth it, not worth the time or the money or the effort to pretend you enjoy it. Here you stay, stuck somewhere in between discontent for your situation and the refusal to do anything about it.

You only have a half hour left of your shift, everyone else has gone home and you’ve been left to do dishes and lock up, as usual. You huff and puff around the shop as you complete the final closing tasks. Anybody else could have stayed and closed, they probably should have too, considering how often you shut down by yourself so they can all go home.

Naturally, you jumped at the opportunity to stay late, where else are you going to go? Certainly not on a date or out with friends. You feel slightly better about making money while you burn the hours away, so you always end up here.

The sun has set already, leaving the illumination of the shop to the awful fluorescent lights that hang from the ceiling. It’s all so mundane, so simple, so dreadfully boring.

Then the bell above the door jingles.

You roll your eyes and throw your rag into the sink, the sign says closed. Why don’t people read? You huff out of the kitchen and into the serving area.

“Hey, sorry but we’re closed right now, we open again tomorrow-” You freeze, it can’t be him, it has to be some cosplayer, some wannabe.

“I’m sorry, I just- my phone died while I was on patrol and I needed to call my boss to let them know I was finished for the day. I was hoping there would be a phone in here that I could use.” His voice is so timid, so unsteady. It doesn’t sound anything like you would imagine the voice of a pro hero to sound.

You try to stay uninvolved with any hero business, all of the flashy quirks and the gossip and the drama. The theater of it bores you to tears, and you lack respect for anyone that uses their ability to save lives as a tool for gaining popularity. You find most heroes to be so incredibly irritating. Most of them, except one.

Suneater, the emerging pro hero that has been the focus of all of your thoughts lately. You've only seen glimpses of him in the news, seen his face on the back page of a magazine, or heard his name from other people. Any evidence of his existence rapidly became precious to you. You are not some hopeless fangirl, you do not collect merchandise or follow him around and beg for autographs.

You admire him, his subtlety, how genuinely different he is from all the other heroes. He isn’t some attention whore, he isn’t some pretty boy that’s always posing for fan service. His quirk is so unique and powerful, unparalleled by any hero on the charts right now. He’s a real hero, and so much of you wanted him to be your hero.

There he stands, right in front of you, in your shop, asking you for help. He’s far more beautiful than you could have possibly anticipated. He’s all porcelain skin and inky hair, deep indigo eyes pear out from under his magnificent hood. He stands so tall, yet comes across so reserved. He’s spectacular, he’s an angel, he has to be.

“Of- of course, it’s in the back, follow me.” You say, motioning for him to come around the corner with you as you tuck back into the kitchen.

“Thank you, this is very kind of you.” He says as he follows, cape swishing behind him as he moves. You don’t know, you can’t possibly know, how badly he wants to take you into his arms and finally know what your body feels like against his, how he wants to bury his face in your hair and inhale your scent. If he could get away with it, he would, oh how he would feel every inch of you. He can’t though, not yet. He has to be careful, he has to be smart.

I will have her, and she’ll have me.

“It’s no problem, it sucks to be stuck without a phone. I’m happy to help.” You say as you round the corner to your shop’s makeshift break room.

It’s not even a room really, just a corner tucked away with a phone on the wall and a few chairs around a cheap foldable table.

You turn to him and motion to the phone awkwardly, heat settling in your chest and all over your skin. Your heart races and you can feel your palms turning wet.

“Take as much time as you need, did you uh- are you hungry?” You ask, “I’m technically closed, but I can only imagine how hungry you are after a whole day patrolling, I could throw something together for you?”

God, you’re so sweet.

“Oh no, you d-don’t need to do that, I can eat at home.” He insists, your mind fixates on the way he stutters, the way his eyes dart down and his feet shift as he talks.

“I would like to. Please? If you’ll let me?” You say softly, heart pounding even faster when he shifts towards you slightly.

How perfect you are, already asking for permission…

“Are you sure, I really don’t want to create more work for you.” He says, eyes flicking up to meet yours. His gaze makes it hard to swallow, he looks at you so intently, you almost feel like you don’t have enough clothing on.

“No! I promise you won’t be. You’d also be missing out on the best takoyaki around if you didn’t let me, and that would be a tragedy.” You say, trying to entice him with your bold claim.

“Well I g-guess, if you put it that way.” He offers you a trace of a smile.

“I’ll get started while you make your call.” You say as you move to squeeze past him in the narrow hall. As you slide by, there’s a brief, precious moment where you stand inches from each other. You don’t dare look up at him as you skate by, You know your legs will fail you if you meet his eyes while standing so close, and you can’t risk the embarrassment of dropping to your knees in front of a stranger, even if he is a hero,

He doesn’t say a word, simple stalks towards the phone as you glide down the rest of the hallway and into the kitchen.

You slip into autopilot in the kitchen, your brain is far too fixated on the fact that Suneater is down the hall, in your shop, using your phone. You clink around some pans, prepare the octopus meat and the batter and get to work. You can’t overhear him talking to anyone with all the noise you’re making, you almost want to apologize for being so noisy.

Your mind settles on thinking about how beautiful he is, how strong he looks, how easily he could overpower anyone… especially you. The thought makes you squeeze your thighs together, it shouldn’t, but holy hell it does.

Out of the corner of your eye you see him come into the kitchen, you immediately start to berate yourself for thinking that way about him. He’s a hero, he would never be interested in something like that with someone like you.

“I think the phone is down, do you maybe have a- a cell phone i could use?” He seems almost ashamed of the question, it makes your chest ache.

“Shit, that line is always being funny. I’m sorry, but I left my cell this morning.” You say, flipping the takoyaki around in their tray so they’ll cook evenly.

“I live just across the street though, I can run and grab it while you eat.” You say, desperate to help him in any way you can.

I know you’re just across the street.

He just shakes his head and bunches his cape in his fists, a very faint blush spreads across his cheeks and it makes your heart do summersaults.

“I couldn’t ask you to do that, you’re already doing t-too much for me. You don’t need to make the extra t-trip, I can just call my boss when I’m home”

“Really, it’s not too much, if you’re worried about the extra trip you can just walk me home and use it when we get there. I imagine you would need to call as quickly as possible and get somebody on patrol now that you’re off.” You say, catching yourself a little when you sound too desperate.

“Are you sure? I don’t want to make you uncomfortable?” As he talks, he shuffles so he can press himself up into the corner of the kitchen, almost looking like he wants to melt into the wall.

“Well, considering your occupation is literally saving people, I definitely don’t feel uncomfortable, it’s not like you’re some crazy kidnapper.” You chuckle a little as you plate up the takoyaki. You try not to give attention to the twisted thoughts that enter your mind when you mention the kidnapping, pushing down the desire to be taken away from the colorless life you live.

If you only knew how badly I want to take you, to have you, keep you…

“I guess you have a p-point.” He says, taking the plate with a soft thank you. He starts stuffing his face with the spheres of breaded octopus immediately, letting a small content sigh leave his body.

“This is incredible, thank you, um, can I ask what your n-name is?” That damn stutter is going to turn your bones to jelly.

You say your name quietly, he responds by repeating it back to you, like he’s checking the pronunciation. You just nod as you open the fridge and pull out a gallon of green tea so you can pour him a glass.

“T-Tamaki, my name’s Tamaki Amajiki.” He says with his shy voice.

A warm, invasive feeling spreads through you. You have to remain calm, pretend that his real name is news to you, pretend that you haven’t spent hours searching through fanfictions listed under that name.

You chat as he finishes his food, thanking him as he mumbles compliments about you cooking in between bites. It doesn’t take long for him to take down the plate. He thanks you over and over as you clean the rest up. He stays glued to his spot in the corner until you take your apron off and hang it on the rack with the others.

“Alright, let’s get you to that phone.” You say as you grab your keys off the hook and switch the lights off.

When you turn to look at him the breath is stolen from your lungs immediately. He looks so celestial in the dark, somehow glowing in the dark. He’s stunning, he’s perfect, he’s painfully out of your league. You remind yourself of that last fact in order to still your nerves.

You turn on your heels and walk towards the door as quickly as you can without seeming rushed. He follows silently, the heavy sound of his thick cloak floating around him makes the hair on your neck stand up. He even sounds powerful.

After you exit the building, he stands with his back to you as you lock the door. His stance is protective, surveying the streets around you like a real hero. You can’t let it go to your head, it’s not for you specifically, he would do this for anyone, it’s his job.

The walk to your house isn’t really uncomfortable, but it is tense. The energy between you is painfully obvious, just not to each other. You both want to speak, ask about each other, know each other, but neither has the guts to make the first move.

While you walk, Tamaki’s head is constantly on a swivel, and he stays so very close to you. It makes your chest ache, the feeling of being so safe next to such an intimidating man. Nobody would dare approach you with him next to you. You would damn near kill to have this all the time, if not all the time at least as often as possible.

You arrive at your house after not even two minutes of tension filled strolling. Silently, cautiously, you both enter your home after you unlock the door.

"It's so cozy." Tamaki says immediately upon seeing all of the soft lights and pastels that make up your decor. He’s nearly trembling with excitement from finally being able to see inside your little world. After watching from the outside for so long, he can finally learn more about you.

"Oh, thanks, I try to keep it soft looking in here. It helps me decompress after a day at a busy restaurant." You explain, setting your keys in their dish before leading him down the hallway to the kitchen.

The house is nothing special, a simple little single bedroom, one story with a relatively open floor plan. It’s small but easy to afford and keep clean. It works for you.

“I’ll go grab the phone from my room, feel free to sit down.” You say, gesturing at the two chairs on either side of your tiny breakfast nook.

He just nods quietly, taking small glances around the rest of your house. You find his hypervigilance charming. It makes you feel incredibly secure to know he’s so aware of his surroundings.

You walk off to your bedroom then, leaving him to stand in your dimly lit kitchen.

Instantly, his eyes zero in on the laundry basket full of clothes that’s sitting on your counter. His body moves without his mind’s permission, his heart thrums in his chest once he catches something pink and lacy.

He can’t help but think you’ve done it on purpose, like you’re some spider sitting up in your web waiting for a poor little bug to stumble along and get all caught up. He’s more than willing to be that bug, and so desperate to get caught up.

He grabs the fabric quickly, as it unravels in his hands he sees what it is and his breathing stops.

It’s a pair of underwear, your underwear.

His fingers go all twitchy as he shoves his hood off to expose his pointed ears, wanting to be able to hear your footsteps.

He brings the panties and takes a deep breath in.

They’re not clean.

He has to choke back the noise that threatens to escape when he finally smells the intoxicating aroma. You smell so fucking sweet. His body reacts instantaneously, goosebumps raise on his flesh as he’s dick twitches in his pants.

God he feels dirty, but why should he? You lead him in here, after cooking for him and being so kind. You left this little gift out for him, you had to know what you were doing.

The sound of soft footsteps jolts him back to reality. He shoves the underwear deep into one of his pockets, he’ll keep them as long as he can, preferably forever.

“Sorry it took me a minute, I’m constantly misplacing everything. One of those ‘lose my head if it wasn’t attached to me’ kind of people.” You give a half hearted laugh, which he returns with a cute little chuckle as he takes your phone.

“Oh sorry about the laundry, I’m a bit of a mess today.” Hot embarrassment fills you as you grab the basket of dirty clothes off the counter and hoist it onto your hip.

“Don’t be sorry, you weren’t expecting any visitors.” He assures you, voice soft and soothing.

“I’ll run this to my room and give you some privacy.” You say, turning once again to leave him alone.

As soon as you’re out of the room his shoulders drop and he lets out a quaking breath. Having you so close after filling his mind with your smell pushed him to the very limit. He wants to grab you and lay you out on the counter, rip your pants off and shove his face between your thighs. He wants to drown in every smell and taste you can offer him. He wants to gorge himself on your sweet little cunt.

He can’t think straight. He’s fully hard, his skin is boiling and his mind is fuzzy. He has to get out of here, he has to get to somewhere hidden, Somewhere he can fuck his fist and think of playing with your soft body. Maybe, just maybe, if he stuffs your panties in his mouth he can taste a trace of you.

When you return he says a very quick goodbye, says something about stopping by your shop again so he can see you again. He doesn’t know for sure what words he uses, he’s too focused on getting out before you notice his erection, before you smell the shame wafting off of him in thick waves.

He has to go before he makes a mistake, before he ruins all of his plans.

You follow him to the door to let him out, bidding him goodnight with your gentle, enchanting voice.

You’ll never know that the phone at the restaurant worked fine, that he never even had to call Fatgum. You’ll never know that he stole from you, that he almost lost it and took you home with him. You won’t ever know that he’s not going home now that he’s left your home.

Urgently, he swoops around the corner of your house, heading straight for your bedroom window. His pants feel so tight it’s maddening, he’s frantic, he’s slipping.

As soon as he reaches the bedroom window, his favorite window, he slumps against the building with one arm as the other shoots down to his pants. He takes a quick glance around, noting that the lights in the surrounding buildings are all out given the hour.

He should be safe.

Then you walk into your room, the image of you is distorted slightly by the white sheers you have up, but only slightly, only enough to make you look like some fuzzy apparition.

She uses these curtains on purpose, she wants me to see.

You have no interest in showering tonight, now exhausted and confused. Did you say something wrong? Why did he take off like that? He did say he would see you tomorrow, though, which gives you a bubbly feeling.

You strip your clothes off, and it shreds Tamaki’s last ounce of self control.

You little fucking tease.

You undress until you’re left in your simple white underwear.

Tamaki’s hand is in his pants the second you crawl into bed. He grabs his aching length, thumbing at his head as he watches you shuffle around in the blankets. His mouth waters when he sees your collar bones, his breath hitches when he sees the way your stomach rolls when you sit. He starts to stroke himself slowly when you leave one leg out of your blankets.

His chest rises and falls rapidly as he remembers the precious gift in his pocket.

He snatches the panties out as he watches you move, as he zeroes in on the meat of your thigh. He shoves the fabric of the crotch into his mouth and bites. He bites your panties like he wants to bite your delicious looking legs.

His hand jerks more rapidly as the faintest flavor spreads across his tongue. His cheeks are pink and his eyes start to tear up as he trembles from the euphoria of knowing you this intimately. His hips thrust into his fist as he claws at the panites, pulling the fabric tight as he watches you drift off to sleep.

His mind races through every possible way he would take you. How he would ruin and claim every inch of you. The idea of you shaking beneath him, moaning his name so sweetly, begging him to keep going, maybe begging him to stop, it makes him want to break down the window.

He tongues at your panties, wishing he could swallow your slick. He feels so unbelievably envious of the fact that the fabric in his mouth has been so close to your perfect little hole. The thing he wants to taste the most, feel the most, fuck the most.

His hand tightens around his dick as he tries to imagine how tight you would feel around him. He rips your panties out for just a brief second so he can spit down into his palm, wrapping it around his cock the second the spit reaches his skin.

“Shit- fuck- shit- fucking love you.” He chokes out as his eyes stay locked on your body.

Once the panties are back in his mouth, the free hand flattens against the window.

Then you shift, hips rolling gently as you adjust your position, exposing your cute little ass to him.

“Slut- bad little slut.” He huffs out as he claws at the window. He feels his balls start to seize up as he focuses on his swollen head, fucking it as fast as he can whle he imagines you with your head buried in the pillows as you stick your ass in the air for him.

He tears the panties out of his mouth and holds the crotch of them in front of his dick, drool slips over his bottom lip as he lets out a high, broken moan while he starts to spill into them.

His body quakes and shivers as he squirts rope after rope of hot cum into his stolen prize. Tears wet his cheeks while drool soaks his chin as he strokes himself through his climax.

He chants your name over and over again, watching the way his seed ruins your pretty little panties. In his orgasmic haze, he brings the panties back to his mouth full of his own release, he laps it up as he eyes roll to the back of his head, pretending he’s made you cream yourself, pretending he’s tasting you instead.

It’s filthy, it’s depraved, but he doesn’t care, he needs it, he’d die without it. He swallows the rest of his own cum down with a greedy whine as he watches your perfect form lay there so peacefully.

He doesn’t know how long he stands there, how many more times he fucks his hand while he watches you sleep, only to leave himself covered in sweat and cum and shame. Somehow, he finds himself walking away, as much as it hurts, he knows he can't indulge himself all night.

Once he’s finally home, he collapses, body buzzing and addicted. He sleeps with your soiled panties clutched in his fist. He wakes up with one thought on his mind, he needs more.

#tamaki amajiki #tamaki smut #amajiki tamaki #mha smut #my hero smut #suneater #suneater smut #mha suneater #my hero academia smut #my hero academia #my hero fanfic #bnha suneater #tamaki x reader #tamaki headcanons #mha tamaki #tentacles #big three #fatgum

[dovenymph]

a film by peter parker

authors note: this was inspired by another thinkerpete tweet that read "peter probably watches the bit from "a film by peter parker" where he's in the car with tony over and over when he misses him" and@peterparkers-bad-youtube-apology’s summer of love prompt list💛💛 also the video edit was made by me so please do not screen record/save and repost it even if you do credit me (also this is unedited so sorry for any typos, i’ll probably go through it sometime this week, i just wanted to post it first)

prompts used: 2. making the backyard/rooftop into a movie theater

my masterlist

warnings: mentions of tony’s death, other than that, nothing but fluff

word count: 3.9k

Peter hated the summer.

Peter hated not having anything to busy himself with; no homework, or academic decathlon, or seeing Ned everyday who could wrap him up in his graphic novel fan theories or the drama in his on and off relationship with Betty. It was petty drama and minor stimulation, but it was something to distract him momentarily. But now Ned was in Aruba with his parents for the entire month which meant Peter had to suffer through the scorching heat of Juy all by himself.

Peter knew he didn’t have to be alone each day, -Aunt May had spent many dinners trying to get him to join her at the movies or the mall, even offering to let him have free reign of the lego store (when he said no to that, she knew he was in worse shape than she thought)- he had a handful of trustworthy and dependable friends he could hang out with for the afternoon like MJ and Betty, or even Flash who had been uncharacteristically nice to Peter ever since he found out he was Spiderman; this having happened only a few weeks after Tony had died and Peter had let him in on his secret to console a sobbing Eugene who, honestly, seemed to be more broken up about the news than Peter was. But even with his expanding friend group, Peter had found the most his body could endure was the contents of his bedroom.

He tried to get back out there after Tony’s passing, he really did, but at the first Iron Man tribute he admired on patrol, his body completely shut down and he swung back home, tears dampening the material of the mask.

So a lonely summer was what Peter submitted himself too, and he’s come to terms with it. He’s rewatched his favorite old shows, started binging some new ones. He’s taken apart and put together his lego death star four times now, each time faster than the last. But he’s been particularly fond of staring out the window. His apartment complex was quite close to the building besides his and he could look down into the backyard everyone had to share. Peter’s building had one as well, but since he was pretty sure he was the only person under 35 who lived there, it went unused.

Next door, there was always a different activity occurring in order for the patrons to beat the heat, and Peter often thought about how easy it would be for him to just go downstairs and introduce himself, and ask to join. It’d really be as simple as that and he’d meet some new people, get a free lunch and a chance to swim in the plastic pool they set up; maybe they’d laugh at his jokes and clap when he did flips, but it was all just a maybe, just in his imagination because his brain never let him wander to far before squandering the idea of getting close to someone again, for if history has taught Peter anything, it's that anything he gets close to, is not meant to stay for long and will be soon snatched away from him in the cruelest of ways.

And this thought is what resigns him to slink back behind his window and pout the day away, as he was doing now, vision blurring as he stared at nothing.

“Hey!”

Peter jumped, his eyes focusing on the target of whoever pelted his window and they landed on your form, slumped against your open windowsill, chin resting on your hand as you gazed back at him.

“Can I help you?” Peter bit back after lifting his window half way, his tone unconsciously laced with annoyance. He really didn’t even notice it anymore since that’s how he’s been speaking to everyone in his life for months now, but when you flinched at his tone, guilt started to creep up his spine.

Before he could ever begin to stumble out an apology, you cut him off “Yeah, is there a reason you stare into my room everyday?”

Peter's face flushed red and he opened and closed his mouth like a fish. He couldn’t remember the last time someone had spoken so bluntly towards him, and honestly, he liked it. He was getting tired of everyone walking on tiptoes around him, he just wanted things to go back to how they were, where he was just Peter Parker, your friendly neighborhood student.

“Or could you at least give me some money for some curtains if you just can’t give up the beautiful view of a concrete wall?”

“S-sorry, I- I didn’t even know you were there.”

Lie.

Peter knew you were there, he always knew when you were there.

Peter Parker isn’t a stalker, though! Sure, he’s gone through some fucked up shit on Earth and in space, so yeah, he wouldn’t call himself the most …sane person he knows, but he really wasn’t a creep. With your buildings being so close and your rooms directly across from one anothers, he was bound to notice you at some point.

And at some point he did. It was the first day of summer and Midtown let out at 12 instead of 3 to mark the occasion, so Peter had been mulling about in his room for quite some time already, thinking about how he heard all his classmates amazing summer plans and how the farthest he was going to go was probably the Thai restaurant down the street, and even that was a maybe. Peter sulked in silence until a couple hours later he heard a door slam closed, thumps from things being tossed on the ground, and a loud groan as he peeked through his windowsill at you who was currently flopped on the bed, window wide open without a care, scrolling on your phone.

At first, he was taken aback by your beauty, a small, small feeling of intrigue spiked his system, but it flew under the radar due to the seemingly everlasting dread that’s been weighing down on Peter's shoulders for months. But he couldn’t look away. You’d been doing nothing but looking at tiktoks mindlessly, occasionally cracking a half smile if a video was particularly amusing, but you still remained cemented to your mattress with no plans on moving anytime soon.

This brought comfort to Peter as he fished his phone out from the bottom of his bag and pulled up Ned’s messages and started to look through the media he sent him, almost two months worth of funny memes and videos that he hadn’t been bothered to look at, and he sat there along with you, aimlessly letting the time pass by. He enjoyed it, knowing he wasn’t really alone in his lazy and distracting behaviors because the pretty neighbor girl was doing just the same.

Ever since then, he’s just been …aware… of your coming and goings. He figured you had a summer job as every other day you were gone for a few hours, a solid shift. But on the days you were home, you also spent it mainly up in your room, every now and then, playing music from your record player, and if he was really lucky, you’d, unknowingly, give him a private concert as you sung out whichever niall horan or ariana grande song struck your fancy that day. He grew quite fond of the music, having added some of the regulars to his own playlist. And he enjoyed knowing you were right there, and he was right here; each of you living your lives, as uneventful as they may be, but you were together in some sort of way.

He’d never spoken to you, the ability of being able to just push his window up and call out to you at any time was what he liked, and each day he thought he’d do it but chickened out, and now it seemed like he’d have to make introductions whether he was ready or not.

“Mmm, right, so you haven’t seen me change or anything like that?” You asked and the content of your question and the inquisitive tone brought a flush to his cheeks.

“N-no! Of course not! I-I’d never do that, why would I even want to look at you? I mean! I don’t think you’re ugly or anything I… I just…”

Peter’s ramblings were cut off with your laugh as it bounced off the summer air and into his room. You were fully leaning out your open window now, and Peter had found himself in the same position, as if he was drawn to you.

“I was only joking with ya, but it's still nice to have the confirmation. I’m Y/N, your neighbor! Obviously.” You trailed off at the end, knowing that information was unnecessary since the boy next door obviously already knew that.

He was like no boy you’d ever seen before, only read about in books. He had a sweet disposition and inviting brown eyes that matched his soft chestnut hair. But he was built like a man, a strong jaw and strong arms. You’d seen him leaving his building everyday on your way to school, and when he’d get dropped off in a big black SUV during the late hours of the night, but he walked in the opposite direction or darted inside so fast,you never really got a chance to take him in.

“…Peter?” His tentative tone snapped you out of your daze and you realized he was introducing himself.

“Sorry, Peter! I- I… got distracted… by your… death star!” You let out, eyes focusing on the black and grey figure resting on his bed.

Peter felt his cheeks heat up as he moved to push it to the ground.

“That’s pretty cool! I finished the star wars series last summer.”

Peter’s eyes snapped up to yours and the friendly smile you were giving him along with the genuine interest in your tone seemed to break something inside him, snapped the band of hesitation that wrapped around his heart. “You did? For the first time?”

“Yeah! I know I’m like super late, but there’s like nine movies!”

Your laughs melded into one as you leaned out your respective windows and began talking about your favorite movie series. Peter was aware that this was unnatural for him. He had been more open to this stranger in the past few minutes than he had to his own Aunt in months and the same guilt from earlier crept up on him. But Peter was having a good time talking to you and he felt his insides turn in excitement when he realized you really had no idea who he was. He had a clean slate with you and he could make any first impression he wanted, well he hoped your first impression of him wasn’t that he was a peeping pervert, but we move, as MJ would say.

You were about to start telling Peter about this new dystopian novel you began reading when you heard a woman call out to him.

“Oh, that’s my Aunt May. She must be home from work. I- I should go say hello.” He explained, a sad look crossing his face that you didn’t quite understand.

You felt your own sadness wash over you, though. You didn’t want to stop talking to Peter either. “Yeah, of course!”

“But we can talk tomorrow right?” Peter asked, his tone laced with uncertainty.

“Oh well, I work double tomorrow… so I probably won’t be home ‘til late.” You said and the way the brown haired boys face visibly fell felt like a punch in the gut and you were scrambling for a reason to make him smile.

“B-but hey! I also get paid tomorrow so if you want, you can come over on saturday and we can have a movie night and we can order a shit ton of take out?”

“Come over to your place?” Peter asked, and he felt himsef involuntarily tense at the idea of leaving his room for the first time in weeks. It was safe in his room. But the pleading look on your face and hopefulness in your tone encouraged him to take the chance.

“I’d love to y/n.” Peter said with a soft smile and you smiled back shyly at him before closing your window and making your way out your room, making sure you were safe in the hall, away from his prying eyes to do a little happy dance.

Peter was unable to wipe the grin off his face as he walked out his room to greet his Aunt.

She heard his feet padding down the hall as she was setting out dinner, “Sorry its not ready yet, Petey, today’s been crazy, but I’ll get started now.” She rushed. Recently, she’s been hoping food’s the key to lift her poor nephews spirits, so each night she’ll either order or make something more fattening, cheesy, and delicious than the last.

“It’s alright May,” Peter let out easily as he turned the counter and placed a kiss on her cheek, “why don’t you let me cook tonight?”

May’s jaw dropped and she blinked a couple times. She could barely get two words out of Peter recently, and they were always either a meak thank you for dinner or an it was good when she asked about his day. She felt her eyes tear up at the slight sliver of her old Petey back.

“O-oh, really, you wanna cook?”

Peter ducked his head down at the ingredients in front of him to avoid looking in her eyes, his heart dropping at the glossiness that overtook them. He truly hadn’t realized how closed off he’d been. “Well, how about we do it together?” He began and the face splitting grin that spread across May’s face was all he needed to know he was taking a step in the right direction.

“G-good idea, honey. Can’t have the house burn down, can we?”

“Hey!”

May laughed and kissed Peter’s head as they began winding through the kitchen, making casual conversation. It was just like the old days, May thought. Before the wave of devastation drowned Peter as he lost a father figure, once again.

“So what did you do today, P? Do you know when Ned get’s back? I’m sure you’re both excited to see each other.”

“Oh, uh, yeah, I am. I don’t know when he get’s back actually, but that’s okay-“

“I know you like your peace and quiet, I really do, but I do think it’ll be good for you to get out of the apartment for a little bit, see if Michelle is available. Oh! Or maybe that Lisa, Liz! I liked Liz, see if she’s available-“

“May! Its okay. I don’t need to hang out with Liz Allen,” Peter grumbled, “I- I made a new friend actually.”

May looked over at Peter in confusion since he hadn’t gone out or had anyone over in weeks, that she could remember; and Peter took her silence as an opportunity to continue.

“The neighbor.”

“Mrs. Wozniak?”

“No! Y/n, she lives in the next building over. And my room is right across from hers. We’re gonna hang out on saturday.”

“Oh?” May raised her brows at her nephew and bit back a smile, much to Peter’s chagrin. “Is she pretty?”

“And that’s relevant why?”

“I don’t know!!” May drawled and Peter just rolled his eyes and kept chopping the vegetables in front of him, the blush adorning his cheeks refusing to go down as he thought yes, yes she is.

.・゜゜・　　・゜゜・．

You yanked the door open as soon as you heard Peter’s knocks against it. He jumped back a bit, his arm still partially raised from when he knocked and you silently berated yourself for being so eager, but the spreading smile across his face made you feel not so bad.

“Oh, sorry, I was just-“

“It’s alright.” Peter replied with a soft smile, and you let yourself trace the golden flecks in his eyes before he cleared his throat, once again, snapping you out of a daze. You seemed to be in a dreamy state around him alot.

“Can I come in? I brought my Star Wars DVD collection by the way, I know you’ve seen them, but this one has the director's cut which I thought totally changed the course of the first trilogy!” Peter explained, rocking on the balls of his feet in excitement.

You bit your lip at the sight, his cuteness was rubbing off on you. “Yeah, that sounds great, but actually we aren’t gonna be watching in here.” You said, grabbing the bag of Chinese food and snacks and stepping out.

Peter’s face sputtered as you both walked to the stairs. He’d spent all day building up his courage to just go six feet from his building, there was no way he’d be able to go around the city with you for the fear of seeing something that’ll remind him of the avengers or crime.

“Y’alright?” You asked, noticing Peter’s stony silence as you walked down the last flight and made your way to the back gate.

“Yeah, sorry, I guess I’m just nervous. I haven’t really hung out with anyone new in a while, well, with anyone at all really.”

You smiled in sympathy, “I get you, I haven’t either. All my friends are out of town, so I’ve mostly just hung out in my room, too.”

“But you already knew that, don’t ya stalker?”

Peter rolled his eyes and shoved your arm as you laughed, glad you got his nerves out of his system. You unlocked the gate and lef Peter to the back garden.

“Woah..” Peter let out. There was a large white sheet hung up between two trees, and a projector set up on the table behind where a blanket lay, covered in a mess of pillows. The setting sun lit up by strung lightbulbs.

“You like? I figured since we both seemed to be home bodies, we could have the fun of the movie theatre, but here!”

Peter felt his heart swell at your words. You’d only known him for two days, and you already treated him with so much consideration and kindness. “I- I love it, y/n. This is amazing.”

He saw how you tucked your cheek into your shoulder in bashfulness and felt his spirits raise even higher. You were adorable.

“I’m glad you like it. I hope the projector works though, it took me forever to translate the instructions.”

Peter walked over to it and gave it a once over. “It seems fine to me, but I can always look at it if you want.”

“Oh yeah? You good with tech?”

“Good enough to get by. I needed it a lot while working with Mr. Stark” Peter began, forgetting that he wasn’t talking to an old friend.

“You worked with Tony Stark?!?”

“Oh.. oh yeah, only for a little! I was an intern.” He said quietly, beating himself up for even bringing up the topic of Tony. The last thing he wanted to do was cry in front of a pretty girl.

“Wow, that must’ve been amazing. You, you must miss him a lot then, huh?”

“Yeah,” he chuckled lifelessly. “Yeah I do.”

“But no matter, we’re here to have a good time right?”

“Yeah, yeah we are!” You grasped his hand and gave him a sympathetic squeeze -neither of you blind to the sparks that shot from the place your hands met- and got settled on the blanket.

Two and a half moves later, the sun had set and the two of you were sitting in the darkness, the only light coming from the flickering of the projector as the abandoned movie played. You and Peter were sitting cross legged, facing each other as he told you another story about working with the Avengers.

“Yeah, it was so crazy!! We were in this airport and he went from being like two inches tall to two hundred feet, it blew my mind. But it was okay though, because I had this idea-“

“Wait, wait, wait. You were there? Why?” You asked, loving every adventure filled anecdote he told you, but it wasn’t all adding up. For just an intern, he seemed incredibly close to Mr. Stark himself, but then again, you’d only known him for less than a week and you also wanted to go everywhere with him.

Peter worried his lip, thinking about how he could worm his way out of this one. Why would a teenage intern be at the Avengers civil war? He figured he could lie, or even just run away and buy black out curtains. Maybe he could convince Aunt May to switch rooms with him even. But you’d already brought so much light to his life in multiple aspects, and he thought, just maybe, you’d be able to bring light to that aspect of his life too.

“You know what, lemme just show you! Wait here, I’ll be back!”

Peter ran back down, his Chewbacca flash drive in hand, adrenaline running through his veins. He plugged it into your laptop and dug up a folder he hadn’t touched in almost eight months.

“What’s this?” You asked as he sat back down next to you.

“You’ll see.” He said, eyes glued to the screen in front of him.

A Film by Peter Parker, read the title as a compilation of videos featuring Peter, Happy, Aunt May, the Avengers, and Tony projected before you both.

Peter heard you gasp as the camera flashed to the suit, and saw, from the corner of his eye, how your head snapped towards his as he backspringed across the battleground. The film continued and neither of you could tear your eyes from the screen. Peter felt his eyes well up with tears as a scene with him and Tony talking to the camera began and he thought that watching this was a bad idea and he was about to turn around and turn it off when he felt your fingers intertwine with his.

He sucked in a sharp breath at the warmth you brought him and he squeezed back, his brain nearly malfunctioning at the speed in which he tried to memorize the feel of your hand in his. But his senses were overloaded as he picked up on your accelerated heartbeat.

The two of you continued to watch the video, neither moving even when it autostarted from the beginning, and this time you laughed outwardly at the funny parts, and asked him questions about why Happy didn’t seem to like him.

“What did you do to him Peter?”

“Nothing I swear!”

“Likely story.”

And he felt the steel blanket of grief fall off his shoulders. The feeling of intrigue and excitement for going back to life was no longer a small trail buried deep within him, but now a firecracker that ignited his insides and aurated off of him. Things were going to be alright, he was going to make it out this summer with more than just the memories from his bedroom, and he’d make it through whatever else life would throw at him, as long as he had you by his side.

Because you didn’t make his heart beat faster out of fear, you made him feel flustered and full of affection.

And you didn’t hold him roughly, with the intent to harm him; you held him delicately, and he could only wait to be able to hold your heart the same way.

#peter #peter parker #peter blurb #peter parker blurb #peter fluff #peter parker fluff #peter drabble #peter parker drabble #peter fanfiction #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker mcu #peter parker spiderman #peter parker fic #peter fic #spiderman blurb #spiderman fluff #spiderman drabble #tom holland peter parker #mcu spiderman #tom holland spiderman #tom holland #tom holland fluff #tom holland angst #tom holland imagine #peter parker x reader #peter parker x you

[loser-writings]

Kazuichi Souda Headcanons

{@sally-wonders​} (┛◉Д◉)┛彡┻━┻ I JUST SAW THE DANGANRONPA STUFF AND I AM SCREAMING! dlsfhlfhksg I dont even know where to start, so, at first I was wondering if you have any headcanons for my man Kazuichi, I love him so much! I always wondered how he would be into an actually relationship, because the inflatuation he had with Sonia was a thing, but also serving to compensate in his low self steam, even if he was an ultimate, he also has the historic of abuse and bully by their piers and all  with the sharp teeth and pink hair to try and look cool and all that as well, also he would have to deal with all that happened in dispair island (what wouldnt i give to know how they dealt with that man :'3), especially acepting the fact that Sônia does not like him. Because of the whole dream girl with blonde hair and he kinda projects this idea of her instead of herself. Jqrjjgwrj sorry I babble a lot hehe

I hope you enjoy this long list of a variety of headcanons. These may not hit all of the points you were asking, but I hope this is satisfactory!

・・・・✪General Headcanons✪ ・・・・

Kazuichi is a very anxious person so he is constantly fiddling with something. Little electronics, his wrench or tools he has on hands, or his fingers. If he can’t mess with something, his anxiety goes through the roof.

He can read in English! He taught himself how to read English so he could read American comic books before they’re officially translated. He also can understand English since he watched so many English action movies. He can speak it, but it can be broken and his accent is very strong.

He can actually sew. Since he learned by watching his mom, he can fix and alter clothing. He can also sew and throw together blankets and stuffed animals. He actually owns a small sewing machine. It isn’t expensive or amazing by any means, but it can get the job done.

He spends a large chunk of his money on keeping up with his hair and keeping his contacts in check. His hair grows extremely fast so his roots show, and he has a horrible habit of sleeping in his contacts since he can’t stand his glasses. 

When you catch him off guard, he just lies about what he is doing. He doesn’t mean to, but it is just a natural reaction since his dad would get mad at him no matter what his answer was. Because of this, you have to give him a moment to calm down and go through the 3 different answers he has before he can actually say what’s going on. This also happens if he is on his computer or his phone. He naturally hides the screen, even if he is just looking at car parts or how to fix a certain thing.

He can be a bit perverted and oblivious to somebody's flaws if he finds himself becoming attracted to them. Despite this, he is honestly quite the sweetheart and would have a heart attack if somebody were to return his feelings. 

He has pretty bad trust issues and this can cause tension between him and others. This also causes him to believe things that aren’t always true based off of his distrust alone.

He doesn’t actually like his appearance, even after he changed it. He originally changed it to keep away bullies and get the attention of women, but when he looks in the mirror, he doesn’t exactly like it. He didn’t mind his black hair or his normal eye color, he just hated his glasses.

Will flinch if someone raises their hand at him because of his fathers past abuse. He can’t help but flinch, and this is horrible with men who are taller than him. Safe to say that Gundhams mannerisms and weird poses aren't appreciated.

・・・・✪Relationship Headcanons✪ ・・・・

As stated before if someone were to return his feelings, he would be so lost on what to do. He never had anybody treat him with much kindness and the fact that someone he admires likes him back is just mind boggling to him.

I headcanon him personally to be Bisexual. He may have a physical lea for women, but he does find himself genuinely attracted to men as well (@Hajime) I think the big thing that decides if he likes you or not is if he thinks he can trust you.

Due to the past abuse and issues regarding friends and classmates, he would need constant reassurance. He will have sudden doubts and will become extremely anxious at the idea of you leaving him for a variety of reasons. He will ask if you want him to change his appearance or something about his personality, and it never fails that he is shocked if you say you love how he is.

He can sometimes get lost in his childlike fantasies. He will change his personality at times and make himself believe things that aren’t true. The best thing to do when this happens is to just give him a quick kiss on the cheek and remind him that you are you, and not some fantasy. He will apologize and snap out of it (For the most part)

He isn’t the best at initiating things. He would do better with someone who is more willing to make the first move. Be the one to grab his hand to hold it, Open your arms so he can snuggle against your chest, Cup his cheeks to pull him into a sweet kiss, Open the door for him and press your hand against his lower back in public areas so he feels more calm. He really would appreciate it.

Some of his favorite dates are the ones that result in tons of affection. Building blanket forts before having an action movie marathon is his favorite thing. It always results in the two of you tangled impossibly close to each other. If he is the one being held, having you play with the messily chopped locks instantly has him weak. He will rest against your chest while watching the movies, looking up to steal kisses and nip at your exposed skin in an attempt to steal your attention away from the screen. If he is the one holding you, your hair will be played with and expect him to caress your body a lot. If he gets distracted from the movie, he will let his eyes and hands wonder. It’s not in a perverse way, but more curious. 

He actually studies how your body moves and how you feel. He is the kind of guy who is very interested in seeing how your “Parts” move and how things work. It’s not perverted (Usually) but instead it’s very sweet in an unusual way. He will find out unusual things he loves about you by watching how you move. Like how you stretch to reach things on a tall shelf, or how your body curls up into itself when your cold. Just how you move and your body language is something that always has Kazuichi staring. 

If he can’t be with you physically, expect many phone calls and video calls. He calls you every time he misses your voice or feels himself starting to get anxious. The most common phone calls become the ones that happen before bed. Kazuichi gets extremely anxious when he is alone or at his house with his dad. Because of this, it becomes a routine where he calls you before bed and falls asleep on the phone with you. If you love to sing, sing and play instruments on the phone to soothe him. If you like to read, read to him until you hear his soft snores on the other line. If you like to ramble, ramble to him as he hums along til he is asleep. 

Also don’t hang up. Seriously, he will hang up in the morning. If he has a nightmare, or something happens, he finds comfort knowing that you are right there when he needs you most. 

He doesn’t mind chasing after you, but please let him have something so he knows that all of the chasing is worth it. This is the man you go to if you want somebody to control. He just wants your love and attention, even if you are just using him. If he falls for you during the killing game, he won’t hesitate to kill for you.

・・・・✪NSFW Headcanons✪ ・・・・

Aged 18+ and Kink discussion below this post

Souda loves to leave hickeys and love bites. He thinks they’re so sexy and attractive, and will leave them all over you if you let him. He also ADORES having you mark all over him and will whine if you tease him by pulling away before a mark can be made. If you really want to make him feel loved, make heart shaped hickeys all over him. He will cry because he feels so loved.

He is a switch with a more submissive lean, but he does have his more dominant moments. If he is being submissive, expect him to whine and cry about things a lot. He can be a total brat, but its so worth it when you get to hear him moan and beg for more. He may not scream, but he is quite loud.. If he is being dominant, he growls and groans a lot. He doesn’t mean to, he just gets so caught up in the moment that he doesn’t even notice the noises he makes.

He has ended up with you in his lap in his car a few times. He just can’t help it. The most memorable time was at the drive in theater. You both were in the back and it just ended up with your hands being bound by a seat belt as he sat between your legs until he couldn’t handle waiting anymore. 

He CLEARLY is into body worship. He loves watching how you react as his hands sit and press themselves against your body. He will compliment absolutely everything about you, kissing your skin as much as possible, and let his hands and eyes do all of the work.

He is so into oral, both giving and receiving. He can sit between your legs pleasing you until you are shaking and can’t handle anymore. Just how you taste is so intoxicating with him, and he always is trying to get more. If you are sucking him off, he will pant and moan and whine the whole time. His hand is tangled in your hair or the sheets until he can’t take it any more and cums. If you swallow, he will be so turned on, but he also loves cumming on you

Kazuichi will hump and grind against anything. Your ass, your thighs, a pillow, clothing, the bed, anything. He has a high sex drive, so he has to take care of it often. Even when he is sleeping, he will grind against you if he is having a dirty dream. Hopefully you don’t mind, because he is actually quite embarrassed when this happens.

He has a fantasy of you waking him up with oral. He has quite a few dirty dreams, so the idea of you helping him out while he wakes up is a dream for him.

Praise kink. Seriously. Praise this man. He will CRY if you constantly praise him during sex. He was completely unaware of how much it would effect him during sex.

#kazuichi #kazuichi souda #souda x reader #kazuichi souda x reader #Kazuichi x reader #Danganronpa #danganronpa kazuichi #Danganronpa Imagine #Danganronpa x reader #danganronpa headcanons #Kazuichi headcanons #Kazuichi souda headcanons #sdr2 #sdr2 kazuichi #sdr2 x reader #sdr2 imagines #sdr2 headcanons #N/sfw #Kazuichi n/sfw

[rfadaydreaming]

boyfriend zen headcanons

he genuinely loves you in any way, shape or form. if you crack open his mind its all just love for you in there, he gets so frustrated if you’re insecure with yourself because why!!! he adores you!!!

he can understand though, inside he’s insecure despite the act he maintains. its not as easy as just “you’re beautiful dont be sad” and then bam its gone. he knows that, but does everything in his power to help lessen it where he can. he knows how far some kind words can go, and he has a lot of kind words to throw your way.

will shower you head to toe in love. zen is a very touch oriented person, its a comfort thing to hold you nowadays. runs his hands all over your body and gets that one feeling in his chest, has to hold himself back. you know when you see something thats just too cute to comprehend you wanna grab it and scream to the world at how insanely cute it is? squeeze it super tight?

that’s the exact feeling he gets when he holds you. the weirdest urge ever but you just make him so !!!!!

sometimes acts on it, he’ll squeeze your face in his hand and just shake your head around a little before kissing you, calling you the cutest angel in the whole entire world. just can’t help himself when it comes to you.

he’s tall, if you ask him he’ll tell you he’s 6 feet. hes not hes 5’11 but he absolutely hates the fact jumin is taller than him.

so if you’re shorter, he loves when you wrap your arms & legs around him and hold him. literally crawl on him and just be a piece of cling wrap. absolutely loves it. climb him like a tree. if he’s cooking you can climb on his back and hold onto him from behind. you’re his little taste-tester while he cooks! ratatouille vibes

if you’re taller, you can get away with absolutely anything. tease him, pat his head, kiss his forehead. he turns into an entirely new zen. blushy mess.

tries his hardest to shape up when he enters into a relationship with you. eats better, stops drinking so much. more routine in his daily life which is nice for both you and him. doesn’t fully quit any of his bad habits but strongly cuts back on them. likes a cold beer with fried chicken here and there, cigarette when he’s really really stressed. but besides that its nothing near how it was before. skin is glowing, crops are watered. he is flourishing✨

he doesn’t bat an eye at things that are mostly frowned on for men. intense skincare, makeup, really takes care of his body on the outside. inside needs a little work because of his bad habits and diet, but the outside is well taken care of. he smells like god. his skin is exfoliated and soft. his hair is silk, actual silk. so if you wanna do facemasks, yes. if you wanna paint his nails, yes. if you wanna do his makeup, yes. you want him to wear a skirt, yes. but wont go in public though. thats only for your eyes to see.

onto dates! if you want romance he’s the man for you. its not extravagant like it might be with jumin, much more sentimental and small. picnics under the stars, he kisses you under the moonlight and showers you with words of affection. going to the theater together, but his attention just can’t seem to leave you. will make out with you five minutes in, both of you don’t even pay attention to the rest of the show. even just watching movies on the couch at home is a date. candles, snacks, blankets and of course your boyfriend all sprawled out whose just dying for some snuggles. loves when you lay on his chest and he gets to run his fingers through your hair, or if you run your fingers through his while the film plays. he actually prefers these little stay home dates, they’re so intimate to him. he likes it.

he’s not a huge fancy restaurant kinda guy, too expensive and they give you like two bites of food. he’s a tall man with a fast metabolism, none of this fancy french stuff can ever fill him up. so takeout from the best local joints, just because they know how to do it right. loves going to little food trucks with you or bringing takeout home and eating it together on the couch. he will steal little bites from your food when you guys eat. he just wants to try it!

zen i got the same exact thing you did

okay babe, just needed to make sure it was really the same 🥺

but to make up for his thievery, he’ll always give you the last bite of something. only one fish shaped red bean bun left? all yours babe♥︎ only catch is he gets to feed it to you~

PDA! zen is the KING of pda. absolutely no shame. loves it to bits. will stop walking in the middle of the sidewalk to have a full on make-out session. you never know when a camera is on you after all

if the paparazzi is around it fuels him even more. you better not be camera shy, because he lays on the romance anywhere and everywhere. there will be photos of you a flustered mess, one way or another. he’s always got an arm around you, a hand laced with yours. if anyone even looks at you funny he’ll glare at them and squeeze you to his side so tightly you’ll see stars. now if anyone flirts with you, they’re getting punched directly in the face OR his tongue will be down your throat right in front of them. either or.

for gift giving, he’s not able to go all out just because he doesn’t have too much money, but that almost makes it better when he does get you gifts. flowers often, but its always random! he doesn’t have a set day where he gives them to you, just to keep it all surprising. he’ll get you a heart shaped locket, but only he has the key. inside is a constellation that was in the sky the night you both shared your first kiss while stargazing. he doesn’t give you too many material gifts unless they have a lot of meaning behind them, gift giving just isn’t his love language, but he will spoil you with attention whenever he can. and honestly, thats worth way more than any gift he could ever buy.

loves when you show up to rehearsals and cheer him on from the sidelines. means the world to him. he waves to you before shows start, blows you big kisses at the end when everyone takes their bow. his co-stars tease him so much, but he doesn’t care. thats his girl out there <3

sings you love songs and dances with you in the living-room. you two are the couples people see through the windows and envy, romance movie style moments are common like that. his voice carries you away and surrounds you with love, he picks you up and twirls you around while dancing. its just you and him. time stands still in moments like that.

the best part of being in a relationship with zen is that you guys aren’t just a couple, you’re bestfriends too. sometimes you can be on the couch chatting about nothing in particular, laughing together. then he can say something insanely flirty to break up the casual mood, catching you so off-guard and making you just melt. its a friendship and relationship perfectly combined. you can always talk about anything and everything with him. he’s always there to depend on too, any time, any place. he’ll be there. anything for his beautiful jagiya~

#mystic messenger #zen #zen mysme #mysme #mysme headcanons #mm #mystic messenger zen #hyun ryu #hyun mysme #zen mm #zen x mc #zen headcanons

[ashintheairlikesnow]

Whumptober Day 17: Dirty Little Secret

CW: Creepy whumper, whumper POV, implied whump of a minor, implied noncon references

“Well, Kelly, you’ve spent an hour talking politics, is there anything else you’d like to hear my thoughts on today?” Governor Oliver Branch sits easily in the padded chair behind his desk. It’s a deep, dark burgundy with little brass accents, and not that he intends to tell Kelly Donahue this particular bit of information, but it very comfortably holds the weight of two.

“Well, let me check.” Kelly smiles at him - bright, perfectly-applied deep pink lipstick, camera-ready stylish-but-demure blue dress, legs crossed politely at ankles, sensible heels. Shellacked hair. The cameraman, on the other hand, is wearing a t-shirt and jeans, and looks like he’s ready for a beer at the bar downtown.

Oliver would rather be at the bar, too.

Still, he’s just as camera-ready as Donahue - had his boy get his favorite suit out, a charcoal gray so dark it’s nearly black, while they played Interview. Baldur loves the game - one of the only times Oliver allows him to speak, when he pretends to be a reporter asking Oliver questions, and Oliver loves the sparkle he gets in his eyes.

He loves extinguishing the sparkle, at the end of the game, even more.

The color of his suit is carefully chosen to pop against the chair, and he hasn’t worn it on TV before. It’ll go over well, he’s sure of it. Even Nancy had nice things to say.

The tie he’s wearing - a burgundy that matches the chair with a brass-colored tie pin, just to hammer the coordination home - was wrapped around Baldur’s wrists this morning. There’s a delicious little thrill to wearing it now, knowing that some of Baldur’s sweat is still in the silken fabric. 

He takes a breath, thinking of the way the boy knows how to beg, and how delightful it is to read in his eyes how much he would like to beg for it to stop, but is too well-trained to do anything but beg for more.

The shameless scandal of it all, if they ever found out, always adds an edge to their moments together. Baldur is, of course, as close to a relationship as Oliver has had since he decided to run for Governor.

Got a little annoying to keep paying to keep rumors underwraps. Didn’t cost so much more to simply buy himself someone no one else will ever know about. An easy financial decision, nothing more.

A financial decision that knows exactly how to do that thing with his hips-

“Are you open to some questions about your personal life?” Kelly cocks her head, and her hair doesn’t move an inch. Oliver can’t help the way his eyebrows raise, very slightly. Whoever does her hair… Oliver would very much like to offer them double their wages at the studio to get them to do his hair instead.

“Oh, of course, Kelly. You know, I’ve always been an open book to my constituents, since I ran for city councilman and read my own ‘don’t ask about’ file out loud during a meeting.”

A nice bit of theater, that. He claimed to have gotten it from his opponent, but really… Oliver had written the damn thing himself. No one knows your dirty little secrets better than you do, after all. 

“Yeah, I remember - I was there for that.” Kelly laughs, tucks a bit of hair behind one ear.

Oliver blinks, looking her over. He thickens his southern drawl, one of the things polls routinely find his constituents find endearing about him. Just a good old boy from Charleston, somehow finds his way to California to settle down for good. Really, it adds a hint of sincerity to all is falsehoods. “No. Impossible! You’re hardly old enough, my dear.” It sounds like idle flattery, but for once, it’s all genuine. Oliver’s been governor of this great state for nearly a decade, and was city councilman for quite some time before that, and Kelly can’t possibly have been out of school-

“I was a senior in high school,” She says, almost shyly, apparently guessing at his next question. If he were a different man, he might flirt with her. But what’s the point, when he has someone - something better, hidden away just behind that door? 

“What led a senior in high school to attend a boring old city council meeting? Sure you weren’t such a good civic-minded young citizen as all that?”

She giggles a little, then glances over her shoulder, mouths something at the cameraman. Oliver can guess what. Edit that out.

Kelly Donahue doesn’t want the episode to be aired with her giggling like a schoolgirl at a bit of idle flattery. Well. Everyone has their things they like to hide, don’t they?

She has her giggle. Oliver has a teenage boy locked in his bedroom.

He almost wishes he’d had Baldur hide under the desk for this, instead. Imagines speaking with Kelly, all sincere interest and open honesty, while petting through Baldur’s soft, shining hair, hooking fingers into his collar to pull him up against Oliver’s leg… He thinks about hosting a perfectly normal interview while Baldur is drugged to dozing, right there. 

He’s done it a dozen times with field trips and one-on-ones. Flirting with disaster - with the absolute chaos that would ensue if the boy were found - is exciting in ways that nothing else in Oliver’s life ever has been.

Baldur’s so very good at holding so very, very still for him, and feeling that boy shaking with energy he isn’t allowed to expend, fighting all his own instincts... Oliver had his youthful indiscretions, and there is no drug, no girl, no boy, no drink… nothing in his life, absolutely nothing, feels as good as knowing that Baldur’s entire body is begging him to move - and one word from Oliver means he can’t.

And if he does - if he breaks the order, if he cannot help but disobey it… well, then Oliver gets to do his favorite thing on Earth. He gets to tell Baldur it’s time to play a game.

Then he gets to hurt him, and hear the way he cries.

There is no power on earth like the power you could hold over another human being’s very nature, and all for a bit of money changing hands in discreet ways. Thank God for shell corporations, or he’d be in prison by now.

“Oh,” Kelly says, blushing a little, interrupting his thoughts. He ticks his smile a little wider. “I was there to argue about something with the Pledge of Allegiance, actually.”

“Ah, yes. The Young Republicans Club. I remember that whole mess.” Oliver waves on hand, gives a soft laugh. “If you’re still in contact with any of them, I do hope you’ll give them my absolute apologies for stealing their thunder that night. I promise you, Kelly, Scout’s honor-” Oliver crosses his fingers up in a little salute. He was never once in his fucking life a Boy Scout.  A little money changes hands, a few documents are forged, and now he was an Eagle Scout who led community service. Funny how that works. “-I had no idea what any of the topics were going to be, I was too nerved up that night, really I was.”

“Oh, that was years ago.” She waves her hand a little, but her own smile has widened in response to his. “It’s not a problem. I was just… honestly, I didn’t see it at the time, but it was a privilege to see that kind of political theater in action.”

Oliver’s laugh is bright, and loud, and he wonders if the boy can hear it, through two doorways and a hallway’s worth of distance. If he’ll listen for the sound of his Sir’s laugh, to try and gauge when it’s over. If he’ll be waiting at the door to the bedroom, waiting to be allowed out, to be given permission to do… well, anything.

“Theater? I am wounded, Kelly. I was merely being honest-”

“Now, Oliver, I know a bit of showing off when I see it - I do plenty of it on my own.” Kelly laughs, too, and they are such good friends, Oliver and the journalists who come here to interview him. He’s a boring bit of story, honestly - a reliable progressive governor of a reliably progressive state. No wife and no kids, no scandals, no weekend indiscretions. 

Governor Oliver Branch does his job and does it well. His legislature likes him, more or less. His constituency adores him. He’s been re-elected in a landslide. There’s been talk about Presidential aspirations, although Oliver’s never thought any higher than the Senate.

Senator Oliver Branch. 

Now that sounds lovely, doesn’t it?

He’ll have dumped the boy by then, of course. No loose ends. The boy has plenty of skills to find himself a new keeper. Even if he doesn’t, he won’t be Oliver’s problem anymore, will he?

He’ll buy another, then.

He and Kelly chat, the interview going off without a hitch. It’s softballs all the way through, easy-to-answer questions, because no one has any difficult questions for him these days. No, Oliver is a good governor in a good state doing good things with good intentions.

Oliver smiles. The questions are easy and his approval ratings are high. There’s been some discussion about a Presidential run, although he’ll of course be bashful and refuse such an idea. His character can’t take the scrutiny, he’ll say, and everyone will laugh. 

All great men have things they’d rather hide, after all.

Although perhaps not things quite like this.

Down the hall, behind a locked door, Oliver Branch’s dirty little secret sits wearing only one of Oliver’s button-ups, knobby knees curled up to his chest, collar buckled snugly around his neck.

The boy rocks and rocks, staring through the tiniest gap in the drapes over the balcony door, watching the clouds move in the sky and wondering what it would feel like to go outside.

---

Tagging: @burtlederp , @finder-of-rings , @endless-whump , @whumpfigure , @slaintetowhump , @astrobly, @newandfiguringitout , @doveotions , @pretty-face-breaker , @boxboysandotherwhump , @oops-its-whump @moose-teeth , @cubeswhump , @cupcakes-and-pain @whump-tr0pes

#whumptober2020 #whump #box boy #chris the strawberry blond romantic #oliver branch is gross #implied noncon reference #torture references #creepy whumper #intimate whumper #whumper pov #captivity #implied whump of a minor

[magioftheseas]

Stick It To Dis Bear!

Summary: An alternate/bonus scene about THE STICKER in Chapter 25 of Super Danganronpa 2: Matsuda Yasuke’s Battle of Despair and Wits.

Rating: PG

Warnings: None really.

Notes: I just didn’t feel right leaving out the stupid sticker. I still haven’t gone to a theater in over a year. For obvious reasons. I think I’m done with theaters. Like, forever. The last film I saw was Birds of Prey. That was good. I don’t need to see another movie.

Read this fic among others HERE

Main story is HERE

Commission? Donate?

They managed to get all the testing done in one day, although if Hinata played along in hopes of being told everything, he ended up sorely disappointed. Another to add to the list of people who found Matsuda in general to be a disappointment as a person. At least, Matsuda had an inkling that such was how the chestnut felt.

He was dealing with his own disappointment—with Komaeda still dragging his feet even after Hinata got too exhausted to keep fucking around with them.

“I feel like nothing of value actually happened,” Hinata groused.

That’s because it did. So little happened that it’s barely worth a passing narration, Matsuda thought.

“You’ve done well, Hinata-kun!” Komaeda chirped. “Great work! As expected of an Ultimate!”

“Shove it,” Hinata snapped. “It would’ve been nice if any of that felt like it mattered.”

“Aw, Hinata-kun...” Komaeda does pout, and it visibly gets Hinata more flustered and frustrated. “I really am sorry that you feel like your time was wasted.” Komaeda turns the full force of that pout to Matsuda. “Hinata-kun feels that his time was wasted. Isn’t that sad? Don’t you feel sad?”

“Yeah,” Hinata agreed through gritted teeth. “Doesn’t that make you sad?”

What romcom bullshit did I wake up in now?

“...I guess... It’s sad?”

“It’s so sad!” Komaeda exclaimed emotionally. “Matsuda-kun, you must make up to him! If only it’d abate his pain a little!”

“I mean, I guess it was a pretty big pain,” Hinata agreed with that, too, even if he seemed more confused about it. “It’d be...nice if I got some compensation...”

“What the hell?” Matsuda balked at the idea. “You volunteered?”

“I don’t REMEMBER that!” Hinata shot back. “For all I know, you lied to my face AGAIN! You do seem to like lying if it benefits you!”

Matsuda opened his mouth but hummed thoughtfully. When he went to speak again, he thought against it and hummed some more.

“C-Can you at least pretend you’re ashamed?” Hinata asked, exasperated. “Like, if you agree, surely you see that it’s wrong...”

I don’t really care.

He especially doesn’t care to pretend he cares. That said...

Komaeda was pouting at him. Lower lip stuck out, puppy eyes, the works. For a kid who looked half on death’s doorstep, it shouldn’t have been that effective. What the fuck.

Matsuda sighed loudly.

I don’t really care, but...

“Alright. Compensation. I guess I can do that,” he said before muttering, “What kind of compensation, though...? Do you want a coupon or what?”

“What would I use a coupon for?” Hinata asked, raising an eyebrow. “I mean—I would’ve been fine with just an apology.”

“Oh, Hinata-kun, such a martyr...” Komaeda gave him a pitying look. “You need to raise your standards.”

Hinata flinched for reasons beyond the current conversation.

“...I guess...”

“Yeah, you’re not getting an apology when I’m not sorry,” Matsuda said. “Pick something else.”

“Seriously?” Hinata gave him a look. “I... What the hell am I supposed to ask for?”

“A raise!” Komaeda exclaimed. “Extra vacation days! Or maybe a cruise!”

“I’m not paying for a fucking cruise,” Matsuda snapped. “Just how much money do you think I have?”

“Eh? But, Matsuda-kun, you’re a renowned neurologist,” Komaeda pointed out. “Even if you’re still a minor, you should be making a considerable amount of money...”

“Paid intern,” Matsuda corrected. “I could afford rent and instant food without having to pick up a parttime job on the side. Better than most...other people of my status...” He paused, having to stop himself for a moment before continuing, “I’m still not living the fancy life, though.”

Living as an orphan is never easy, especially in this country.

“That seems unfair,” Komaeda pointed out.

“What rock do you live under? That’s just how it is,” Matsuda scoffed. “Maybe if I had rich parents or even grandparents, it’d be different but I don’t.”

My worthless dad fucking ran the second shit got only a little difficult. Come to think of it, how did I manage after...?

“Rich parents,” Komaeda echoed as Matsuda rubbed his temple irritably. “I see.”

What now?

“Oh nothing!” Komaeda chirped, waving his hand as he was stared at by both Matsuda and Hinata. Right. Hinata.

This was supposed to be about Hinata.

“I, uh, don’t know much about making money,” Hinata confessed rather pitifully. “I’ve done some job-hunting...and I guess I’ve helped out at a convenience store? But only because my parents knew the owner...”

“How down to earth,” Matsuda remarked. “I knew a convenience store owner who gave me a sandwich because she felt sorry for me.”

“The one I knew hated me,” Komaeda chirped. “She said I was cursed! Which I guess was true!”

Both Matsuda and Hinata stared at him again, this time harder than before. Despite that, Komaeda remained bouncy and cheerful.

“Since financial compensation isn’t an option, I guess the best we can do is find something on the island to give Hinata-kun!”

“There’s a supermarket,” Matsuda pointed out dryly.

“I can just go there myself and grab whatever I want,” Hinata said. “I don’t need you picking up anything for me.”

“Do you want to be compensated or not?” Matsuda snapped.

“You’re not the kind of person who gets easily taken advantage of, right?” Komaeda asked, looking at him pityingly again.

“I’m not answering that,” Hinata griped. “But yes, I want compensation, I just... I don’t think I’m going to get the kind of compensation I actually want...”

Komaeda looked at Matsuda next.

“Sucks,” is all he had to offer.

Hinata grumbled, but wasn’t one to give up easily, almost as if he was motivated by a higher force.

“There’s stuff to do, right? Like, go to the beach...”

“I guess I can take you a beach and toss a frisbee for you to fetch,” Matsuda conceded.

“O-Or maybe relax at the park!!”

“Oh, should I bring a leash instead?” Matsuda asked, head tilted.

“T-There’s the movie theater!” Hinata exclaimed in a fit of desperation. “Let’s try that! Let’s go to the movies!”

Matsuda stared. Komaeda stared. Hinata took their silence as agreement.

“The movies,” he decided. “L-Let’s go to the movies.”

Matsuda and Komaeda traded looks.

It was decided, but not without reservations.

--

“Surely there’s more than one film showing,” Hinata said, looking up at the sign. “I mean... I know I wanted to come here but... This film is supposed to be really bad, right?”

“It is,” Matsuda confirmed.

“It really, really is,” Komaeda agreed. “No offense, Hinata-kun, but you’re going to have to watch this alone if you have your heart set on it.”

“I-I thought I was supposed to be getting treated?!” Hinata protested. “And—I won’t want to see it anyway! I just...” He trails off. “I just...thought it might be nice to watch a move... I wasn’t thinking about...”

Wasn’t thinking is right. I’m also surprised you have the energy.

“Guess it can’t hurt to check,” Matsuda said as he made his way inside. “Of course the main issue is asking...”

Komaeda whistled before Matsuda even had a second to truly dread what came before.

“WHAT AM I, A DOG?!” Monokuma shrieked. “Call me by my NAME or at least a TITLE if you can MANAGE IT?!”

“Why would I when you already answered?” Komaeda retorted. “I just wanted to ask some questions about any films playing?”

“Why? So you can break my fragile little bear heart all over again?” Monokuma sniffled. “Critics are vultures! Vultures, I tell ya!”

“Get the fuck over yourself,” Matsuda snapped. “We’re only here because this dumbass wants to see a movie.”

“I-I’m not a dumbass!” Hinata protested, but Monokuma looked at him as if he were, in fact, a dumbass. “What?! Do you have a problem with that?!”

“Eheh... Upupupu, and here I thought you didn’t want to watch it!” Monokuma cackled. “You were just being tsundere all along! Should’ve known!”

“I don’t want to watch that film, just a film,” Hinata hurriedly corrected but Monokuma just squealed.

“Such a tsundere that you even threw away millions for a sticker!”

“Millions...?” Matsuda echoed.

“For...a sticker?” Komaeda wondered, wide-eyed.

“Don’t worry about it!” Hinata yelped, waving his hand frantically. “I-It’s nothing to worry about!”

“I think tsundere syndrome IS pretty worrying!” Monokuma exclaimed, smacking Hinata on the ass and retrieving the one and only sticker. “I mean, honestly! Imagine paying 150 million yen for this lovely sticker just so you don’t have to watch a movie! Check it, check it!”

“Stop, don’t!” Hinata shrieked, but Monokuma couldn’t be deterred, flinging that sticker into Matsuda’s face.

Matsuda got a good look at it, as did Komaeda. The Monokuma sticker grinned back at them, with the cheekily written following words underneath: I’m sorry, I was born stupid.

Matsuda stared. Komaeda stared. The sticker smugly kept on staring back, radiating contempt and malice.

“H-Hinata-kun,” Komaeda began shakily, sounding close to tears. “You bought this for 150 million yen?”

“I-I had to take out a loan,” was Hinata’s pitiful explanation. “I didn’t...pay for it upfront...”

“What were you going to do if it accrued interest?” Matsuda asked blankly.

“And what are you going to do now that you’re gonna watch the movie anyway?!” Monokuma exclaimed. “All that money—wasted!”

“I can’t believe you’re going to go bankrupt over this shitty sticker,” Matsuda lamented, feeling genuinely apologetic for his cruel fate. “I’m so sorry to hear that.”

And Hinata.

Just.

Screamed.

“ARGH FORGET IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIT!!!!”

--

In the end, Hinata ran out of the theater. In the end, Matsuda and Komaeda wordlessly left as well. In the end, Monokuma surely laughed his furry ass off.

Another day largely wasted.

“Do you think Hinata-kun’s going to want his sticker back?” Komaeda asked, grimacing at the thing as if it had committed great offense. Which it had. Simply by existing. “Monokuma didn’t write up a contract. His word isn’t legally binding. Hinata-kun might not have to pay.”

“Hm.” Matsuda stuffed the sticker into his mouth, chewing it and swallowing it much to Komaeda’s awe. “It’s his word against ours. I can at least afford a lawyer.”

“I’ll pay for legal fees! Just for Hinata-kun!” Komaeda exclaimed, fired up now. “And—!”

“Once we get out of here, we’ll take him to see an actual movie,” Matsuda said.

Komaeda shut his mouth.

“Once we get out of here,” Matsuda repeated.

Komaeda said nothing else for the rest of the day, but there was a particular glimmer to his gaze. One that Matsuda took note of, and couldn’t help but hope for a greater significance.

#yasuke matsuda #hajime hinata #nagito komaeda #MatsuKomaHina #sdr2 #Magi fics #Protag Matsun

[paragonrobits]

A friend asked me to give a stab at a Tierlist Maker for Video Games Not Yet In the Video Game Hall of Fame Tier List Maker, so here's my list for it!

This is based primarily on what I considered to be overall value to gaming history as a whole, with games with greater influence or impact ranking higher than those that had less impact on those to follow, or on culture. All the entries are those that have been nominated to the Hall of Fame, but not actually inducted as of this post's writing. Games that I personally like are generally rated higher, though mostly because I'm more familiar with them and thus can judge their impact from a personal POV.

(Tier List explainations, below!)

SHOULD BE IN ALREADY

Final Fantasy: I mean seriously. How is this one not already in yet?? It is not, as my research suggests, the first true RPG; that likely goes to games like Ultima. It is certainly an incredibly influential one; FF is a name closely associated with JRPGs in general, and its diverse class system is one of the strongest things to do with it, as noted by challenges like beating the game with a party of Black Belts. FF is THE name of RPGs in general and I'm startled it hasn't made it in, though I suppose that's owing to more notable entries (Hard as that is to imagine). It doesn't hurt that the majority of my favorite FF titles are those most similar to this one, such as FF6 and FF9, in terms of approaching the general world setting and class systems. Most significantly is that this game popularized RPGs and made them accessible, in ways that previous games such as Dragon Warrior/Dragon Quest did not; the field of gaming would be VERY different without it; RPGs became VERY popular, to the extent of RPG elements being almost universal among other games in the modern day. (I am also pleased and amused to see 8-Bit Theater mentioned on the actual Wikipedia page. Now THAT'S notability!)

Sid Meir's Civilization: HEY NOW HALL OF FAME JUDGES, DON'T YOU BE MOCKING CIV, ALRIGHT. CIV IS FUCKING AWESOME. Okay, jokes aside, I'm genuinely astonished as the Civ series is considered the first true main game of the 4x series, and it shows; the entire genre centers around expansion, resource usage and diplomacying or conquering your enemies, and considering the impact of this game and its sheer popularity, to the extent of the meme of the game getting people to play for Just One More Turn, I'm a bit disappointed that it's not already in the hall of fame. I also note that I am personally more familiar with the spin off Alpha Centauri, a sci fi variant, which is still one of my all time favorite games.

Half-Life: Given this game's popularity, to the point of its release alone consigning the likes of Vampire the Masquerade Bloodlines to cult classic status and its engine spawning a whole THING with GMod and the usage of physics mechanics in FPS games, one thing of note is its use of scripted sequences; at the time, an unknown in most games of the time. There may be something to be said for how the entire game is spent as Gordon Freeman, behind his eyes, possibly engendering a lack of separation between self and character that would be later emphasized in games like Bioshock. It's influence on games cannot be denied, with publications using it as a bookend between eras of gaming. One consistent element of what seems to make this game so distinctive is its approach to storytelling, without simply imitating film techniques which don't always work well with gameplay.

Candy Crush: This is an example of something I don't personally play myself, or even like very much, but I'd be remiss to dismiss it out of hand. There's no denial that phone games are one of, if not THE biggest market of games in the here in now; if now in scale, certainly in quantity. You might call it the TF2 Hat Economy theory; people aren't spending BIG bucks, but they are spending a LOT of little bucks all the time. It proves that highly accessible games that are generally free to play, with optional purchases, are a legitimate means of game business, and this certainly revolutionized how games were seen by the money-makers.

Super Smash Bros Melee: I loved this game as a kid, but truth be told i have a bit of a love-hate relationship; i REALLY dislike the competitive community that has fixated hard on this game, so any thoughts on it will have a slight element of pause beforehand. Even so, I can't forget the thrilled delight I felt watching the trailer for this game in supermarkets for the first time as a kid. at a time when getting any new games at all was a HUGE deal in my family. So, there is a lot of feeling behind this one! Ultimately, I have to concede that while i have complicated feelings about this game, its worth noting that the vast majority of things that made Smash iconic, and influenced the competitive scene AND the games inspired by Smash AND shaped the course of the series going forwards, largely owe themselves to Melee in particular. 64 was far more slow paced, while Melee began the trend towards much more fast paced action (and while I doubt it's SPECIFIC to melee as a whole, it may have been a trend for the genre from then). Melee is STILL widely played, especially on the competitive scene, and this sort of longevity always bears evidence of notability.

Goldeneye 007: I have to admit that despite being a kid in the 90s, despite someone who put most of their time into gaming, and despite being someone whose favorite system at the time was the Nintendo 64, I mostly missed out on the trend of history by honestly not being that much into this game. I have to say that I DID play it, however; I just never managed to get past the first level or so. I have strong memories of triyng and failing to sneak around a snowy lair of some description; it wouldn't be until the mid-2000s, playing Deus Ex Human Revolution, that I got the hang of stealth. All the same, personal indifference really doesn't matter much because HOLY SHIT THIS GAME HAS SOME STAYING POWER. IT HAS INFLUENCE, FRIENDORITOS. Perhaps chiefly, at the time it was made, consoles were not considered viable platforms for first person shooters; Goldeneye revised that notion, and created a whole revolution in multiplayer and shooter games. We would later see the ultimate consequence of this in games like Halo, which further revolutionized the whole genre. Ironically, the stealth attributes I was so bad at were part of what made the game so unique! It's one of those games that may not have aged well, by modern standards, but its import to gaming as a whole goes a long, long way.

Guitar Hero: I expect this one might be a bit hard to justify, but on its own, this game is INCREDIBLY innovative, though its not entirely the first of its kind, having mechanics based on earlier games. The very first entry has a respectable library of 30 songs, which is impressive considered at the time it was made, its not likely people expected it to get as far as it did; bear in mind that the massive libraries of later games were the result of years of this game series being a massive steamroller of a franchise! At the time, this one was an unknown. It has an interesting history as being a successor of sorts to an arcade exclusive, and inspiring a genre of imitators and spiritual successors on its own; of great note is the sheer impact this game had. With so many of those successors, the increased value of liscened soundtracks, and the way the game's concept became so influential, its astounding this one isn't already on the hall of fame. (It's also very fun, but fun alone doesn't make for memorability, sad to say.)

DESERVES IT AT SOME POINT

Myst - an iconic and incredibly atmospheric puzzle game, I'm genuinely surprised that I haven't heard talk about this one in some respect; it bears note as a rare game with absolutely no conflict whatsoever. I actually rank this one on par with the 7th Guest in terms of atmospheric games, though their tones could not be more different. So why do I think this game deserves it at some point? It was an incredibly immersive and beautiful game, lacking in genuine danger or threat, encouraging the player to explore and tackle the puzzles of the game. This sort of open-ended lack of peril makes it an interesting precursor towards certain flavors of sandbox games around now. It's worth noting that it was a tremendous achievement, given technical limitations of things such as the CD-Rom it was stored on, maintaining a consistent experience, as well as tying narrative reasons into those very constraints. It has been compared to an art film; if so, it certainly is the sort that invited imitators and proved to be a great technical achievement.

Portal: PORTAL! What can I honestly say that hasn't already been said by other people? The amazing integration of a physics engine into innovative puzzle solving, combined with a slow burn sort of minimalist plot reveal concerning the AI proving itself to be a kind of reverse HAL 9000? This game got a HUGE number of memes back in the day, and I expect anyone reading this can probably reference a few. The cake thing, certainly, and its relevance to matters of deception. There is much discussion over the game's utility in academic circles, which is certainly quite notable, and for my part, I'm interested by the point that at first the game gives you a lot of hints towards what you're supposed to do, gradually making it less obvious for the player you're on your own entirely, using your experience with the game to get past the puzzles from there, and its excellent game design. Ultimately though, I place this below Half Life in hall of fame urgency, because while I probably like this one more, it doesn't have the same impact on other games, per say. (That's a lot of awards for it, though. Wowza.)

Resident Evil: Is it fair to call this one the major survival horror game of its era? No, because it's apparently the FIRST, or at least the first to be called such. It's certainly up there with shaping the genre as a whole, both its immediate predecessors and modern games. The flavor of a survival horror can even be judged about whether its close to Resident Evil's style of defending yourself with limited resources vs controlled helplessness. It's also worth pointing out that I quite like the restricted, cramped setting of the mansion, rather than an expansive city; Biohazard was a real return to form, even if its something I mostly watched through funny lets plays because OH NO ITS TOO SCARY I CANT WATCH.

Asteroids: It's called the first major hit of the golden age of the arcade. I'm forced to say... yeah, it absolutely deserves it. The actual implementation and hardware of the game makes for interesting reading, and so its innovative nature ought to be noted: it lacked a soundchip at all, making use of handmade circuits wired to the board. It's reception was great, beating out Space Invaders and needing larger boxes just to hold all the money people spent on it. It also invented the notion of tracking initials on the top ten score, which has implications for arcade challenges.

Ms. Pac Man: This one consistently ranks HIGH in gaming records of its time, though there is admittedly some confusion to whether it or Donkey Kong was a better seller. Interestingly it appears to shape most of the gameplay mechanics people remember most for Pac-Man, such as the improved AI of the ghosts. It's more highly regarded than the original game, and on a personal note, I remember being a kid and seeing this arcade machine at ALL the laundry places my family usually wound up going to.

Frogger: It's placing on this list is not solely because CUTE FROG. The accessibility and wide appeal of the game bears a great deal of consideration, the flexibility of its formula, and just how many dang times it's been ported in one form or another. (And also, cute frog.) It also gets points for the creator being inspired for the game when he saw a frog trying to cross a road, hampered by the vehicles in the way, and he got out of his car and carried the frog across the street. The game is also evident of broad appeal, and some money-makers resisting it, goes back a long way; it was apparently dismissed as a kid's game by some, which just goes to show that some problems are older than quite a lot of gamers alive today.

Uncharted 2: this is one of those games where I cannot honestly say I have personal experience to draw from. Of the playstation's big games, I remember the Jak and Daxter series; I remember Kingdom Hearts, and I remember Ratchet and Clank, and I remember Infamous, but the Uncharted series remains

something of a 'I don't go here?' obscurity in my personal playbook. It does look memorable and charming from what I've seen, and one consistent element I've seen in comments about it is the cinematic nature of the game; it feels very much like a fun heist movie, based on what I have seen of it, and the notable thing is how the game FEELS cinematic.. in a literal way. As in, it combined elements of cinematography with game design, and that's no mean feat: what works for movies are unlikely to translate well to the interactive side, and it shows how that can be done for other games. The extensive praise does the game a LOT of credit!

WORTH NOMINATION AT LEAST

Angry Birds: As noted before, I'm not the biggest fan of most phone games, given that i prefer a more passive experience than most provide. As such, Angry Birds isn't something I've played as of this writing, but I have to appreciate the straightforward and simple gameplay; it reminds me a bit of the Burrito Bison game series, which I HAVE played, and I'm going to go out on a limb and assume it's because Angry Birds is probably the innovation that coined that particular style of gameplay. It's an example of what made phone games profitable and worth the time of developers to work at them; its easy for casual players to get into, and there's a fun sort of impact involved. Given the popularity of phone games, this one has a LOT of influence in getting that rolling, similar to candy crush, if not as much.

FIFA International Soccer: Simulation games are a tricky business; it can be really difficult to get them right, and this game provides an example of it being done in a way that a lot of people REALLY loved, set up an entire game series, and revived the 3DO system after a very bad year. Of note, apparently it was commented that it was more of a simulator than a console game, and this is rather funny considering how simulator is its own genre nowadays! Such do things change. It seems to have been a revolutionary game and simulation; setting the shape for modern sport games of its type, and tending more towards realism (accounting for acceptable breaks in reality) than was typical of the time. This one's position is thus picked for its impact as a whole; while it may not necessarily be a household name now, the series continues on, and is popular enough that even after 20 years, it's still been going.

Elite: I nominate this game in this position for being a startlingly early entry into what we would now consider open-ended games, even with an element of exploration and trading; if one stretches definitions a bit, a precursor towards gameplay of the like scene in 4X players who strive to avoid conflict, if possible. Its technical breakthroughs are some very interesting reading and make for good game history; a vast and complex game (not just by the standards of the era, either), and opening the door for persistent world games such as World of Warcraft.

Wii Sports: A significant game, and much as how other titles mentioned above were famed for gateway entries into gaming for an unfamiliar audience, or those that would want o play on a more casual basis. It seems notable to me for being most suited as a family game, or a more casual experience of multiplayer than usually associated with games like this; this has greatly influenced Nintendo's design philosophy, and one can see elements of this all the way through the Wii U onwards. It's essentially a fliparound from Mario Party; less competitiveness, but definitely meant as a group thing. Controversy is evident, because like with Mario Party, injuries did result from it.

Call of Duty: I place this one here because, while it DOES hold a very significant role in gaming history, with countless imitators, spiritual successors, being a game-changer in ways that its modern reputation might surprise you with, ultimately it is less so than other games such as Goldeneye, Halo or Half-Life. It's development in AI pathfinding and tactics is incredibly noteworthy from a mechanical perpsective, and the sheer level of awards it won is notable. In the end this game's popularity and continuing influence means that it shouldn't be overlooked.

Metroid: You can't spell 'Metroidvania' without this game! A relatively open ended exploration-based game with further options opening as new tools were found give it an interesting vibe, and the oppressive atmosphere distinctive to the game says great things about its sound and level designs. It wasn't the first open world game, or explorer, or even the first to open new aereas based on equipment, but it had ALL of these elements in a very memorable package. (Samus Aran as a female protagonist is something I'm a bit reluctant to give it credit for, as her identity was obfuscated for most of the game, and only revealed in a fanservicey way in a secret ending. All the same, credit where it is due, I suppose!) It's music seems to endure as a mood setter, too!

Pole Position: Perhaps not the FIRST racing game, but still considered one of the most important from the golden age of gaming, and the one to codify many of the firm rules of the game series. It's three dimensional gameplay is incredibly innovative for its time, and having played it and games like it in the past, I'm struck by how smooth the whole thing feels. No wonder it was popular! It is notable for having been designed specifically as a 3d Experience, meant to execute techniques like real drivers might attempt, which makes it a different sort of beast in that it tried to do more realistic actions; in some ways, a precursor to modern trends of realism in many games, for ill or best. Ultimately I think this one is worth a nomination because of its influence towards racing games (a popular and long lived genre, to say the least) as a whole.

OUTSIDE CHANCE

Nurburgring 1: On the one hand, I feel a bit guilty putting this one so low; it is recognized as likely being the earliest racing game in history, and given that I just finished noting Pole Position's influence, it feels a bit mean to rate this one as relatively insignificant all the same. However, in terms of notability, I never even heard of this one, and it was tricky finding information about it. Accordingly, that may say something about its influence, though this position DOES make it noteworthy as the first of its kind, albeit with Pole Position refining and introducing elements that shaped the genre.

Dance Dance Revolution: It feels a bit strange, putting this one fairly low. This thing was a MONSTER back in the day; entire arcades were built around the dancing control peripherals it required, rhythm based games or mechanics specifically invoked it by name, and it was an absolute cultural touchstone for years and years. So, why place it low? Partly, its because I can't just shove EVERYTHING into the 'deserves a nomination' folder; I do think it's fairly reasonable for this one to at some point get a nomination in the future, though ultimately there's games more noteworthy on the whole. It's specific rhythm qualities continue outside of its genre, and are quite influential to gaming as a whole, though unfortunately the series seems to have lost something in notability over time; popularity is a factor, but so is the impact on other games.

NBA 2K and NBA Jam: I put these two together because they touch on similar touchstones for me, and they really did popularize basketball games back in the day. Jam in particular seems to be invoking the Big Head mode that were a big thing in games at the time, at least going from the screenshot. They were very popular and highly beloved games back in the day, though I don't know if they have much influence on later games. I note that interestingly, they take opposite approaches; 2k focuses on AI and realistic experiences, while Jam was deliberately less realistic and more actiony in its over the top gameplay.

Nokia Snake: This one really impresses me for the sheer number of releases, in various forms, it's had! Interestingly, there seems to be little consensus on the name of this game; most just call it Snake or something on that theme. I went with Nokia Snake because... mostly, it sounds funny, and that's how its done on the list. This one is fairly low, but I Have to give it credit for having hundreds of releases!

Farmville: My mom liked Facebook games, a lot. And I am certain this one was one of her main ones! I rate it fairly low, and no doubt her spirit is yelling imprecations at me across the void of time, space, and abandoned socks; all the same, this one is ranked low because of the sheer number of displeasure aimed this one's way. (And to be fair, she complained about it. A LOT.) It is thus notable for unusually negative reasons; an example of exploitation, pressuring players to pester their friends to play it in an equivalent to electronic chain mail, and microtranscations.

Tron: I'm inclined to give any game that takes place in a computer land and uses programming or mechanical terminology a free pass! Interestingly, this has some association with the Snake game, as they have similar gameplay and Snake games are sometimes called Light Cylce games, after this one. It has an interesting history; the graphical system was chosen largely because it was believed it was more likely to be achieved before the deadline.

NO BUSINESS IN THE HALL OF FAME

Mattel Football: I do feel a little mean putting anything in this category; firstly because I don't want to make actual fans of something sad, and secondly because I believe you can probably find notability anywhere you look, if you are inclined. And here is the chief difficulty with this one: I could not find any real information in this one. It has no Wikipedia page, a google search only led to undescriptive links of SALES for the game, but not any information on the game itself. Notability is my main resource for sorting these entries, and honestly? If google has nothing on you, that's a pretty poor sign. Sorry, Mattel Football, but you look like a poor man's Game And Watch. You're no Portal, Myst or Pole Position.

#tier lists #tiermaker lists

[glass-rose-paperweight]

The Season 10, Episode 5 "Fan Fiction" Criticism No One Asked For

I would like to start out by saying that I did genuinely enjoy this episode. However, to anyone with any knowledge of how musical theater works, it is painfully obvious that the writer of this episode doesn't understand how musical theater works. Which I can't necessarily fault someone for, as not everyone has studied musical theater, but I really feel like if you're going to write a musical theater episode, you should understand how musical theater works, at least the very basics (though, it turns out that you can not understand how musical theater works at all and still be picked to direct multi-million dollar movies, see Les Mis and Cats)

Actual analysis/criticism starts below the cut

First of all, the writer of the play appears to have tried to fit about 5 seasons worth of content AND a new ending into a 2 act play. Forget bad, that’s just impossible (also, 2 acts??? What kind of psycho does 2 acts?)

For another thing, for a high school play, it has a pretty high production value (and, I gotta admit, my 5-years-in-theater-classes-ass is very jealous). For something that’s just a school play (a relatively small school judging by the size of the auditorium and the fact that it’s a private school) that isn’t for a competition, it has a higher production value than it likely would. Though, my experience is with public schools, not private schools, so maybe a prep school would be willing to drop that kind of money for a student-produced show.

Now, for the actual musical theater aspects of it. First of all, we need to establish some basics of musical theater. If you don't want to read about it or if you already have this knowledge, you can scroll down to the bolded part.

Songs within musical theater serve a purpose, and there tends to be a basic formula. You have an opening number to establish the world, the relevant characters, relevant backstory, and to set up the rest of the story (Think "Circle of Life" in Lion King). You'll have songs introducing characters that don't show up until later in the story (Think "Trust in Me" from The Jungle Book). The protagonist usually gets an "I want" song, where they basically monologue to the audience about what it is they want and how that relates to the story set up in the opening number (Think of Belle's song in Beauty and the Beast where she's singing about how she wants more than this provincial life, or Ariel singing "Part of Your World" in The Little Mermaid about how she wants to be where the humans are; there's actually a ton of examples I could give here). Sometimes you might have an "I am" song where the character sings about what they are feeling in the moment/what's going on in that moment and how that is relevant (Think "Speechless" from the live-action Aladin remake). If there is a primary villain of the story, they will usually get a song (Think "Friends on the Other Side" from The Princess and The Frog). If romance is a relevant part of the story, there will be a love song (Think "At Last I See The Light" from Tangled). I used Disney movies as examples because that is what I am most familiar with and because Disney musicals are a direct evolution of Broadway musicals, so you can put Broadway musicals into this formula, too. You'll find some exceptions to this rule (the above-linked Cats video talks about how the purpose of Cats as a musical is to break that typical formula, and how the director not understanding this principle is one reason why the movie flopped so badly), but, for the most part, musicals tend to be able to fit into this formula pretty well. There is also a general rule of thumb for musicals: "when a character is too emotional to speak, they sing; when they are too emotional to sing, they dance." Songs will often come at emotional climaxes in the play. Sometimes a song will be reprised for that emotional intensity (Think "For the First Time in Forever" reprise in Frozen).

The music in a musical play serves a tonal purpose, it serves a plot purpose, and it serves to establish the characters. The point is, all the songs in a musical need to serve a purpose.

And that is where this episode goes wrong.

I am going to be going through each of the 4 songs we are shown in descending order of how good they actually were.

1. The opening song was perfect, 10/10, and I mean that completely unironically. Besides being a genuinely catchy song, it serves its purpose perfectly. It establishes the relevant characters (minus Cas), it establishes relevant backstory, and it establishes the world in which the play takes place (one in which monsters exist and Sam and Dean are hunters). This does everything an opening number is supposed to do.

2. The Single Man Tear song - 7/10. Maybe 8/10 if I'm feeling generous. The song itself sounds like an emotional climax song, likely fitting into the "I am" category, maybe an "I want" song, but those tend to be bigger songs about bigger goals that the protagonist is striving for. It's Sam singing about how Dean represses his emotions and how he wishes Dean wouldn't do that. The problem with this song is that we the viewers are given very little context for the song. The song starts with chanting in Latin, making it sound like it's just going to be a song about exorcising a demon, and that is what is going on while Sam sings. If a significant event happened just before then that Dean refused to address in his typical Dean fashion, this song would make sense, but the audience of the episode (unlike the audience of the play) doesn't have that context, so I have to dock points.

3. The cover of Carry on My Wayward Son - 4/10. Even though in the episode, it is stated to be a cover, it is sung like a reprise. The problem is, this song has no relevance to the audience of the play. It was included for the audience of the episode. If you were sitting in the auditorium watching this play, especially if this is the first time you are hearing this song in the play, it is not going to have any relevance to you. There is no emotion attached. Ideally, the song should have been played at a high intensity (not necessarily high emotional) moment of the play, like maybe a fight scene. Not ideal for a reprise, but at least then there would be something for the audience to connect the song to, something to give it meaning.

4. The song where Cas is singing under the lamp posts - 0/10, seriously considering giving it a negative score. I hate this song. It serves no purpose. It doesn’t happen at an emotional or intense moment. It reveals nothing relevant about Cas or Dean or their relationship with each other. It is literally just Cas singing under some street lamps. Hate it. Get rid of it. A song should serve a purpose, and it shouldn't interrupt the flow of the play. If the play feels like it is grinding to a halt for a certain song to be sung and then resumes when the song is over, that song needs to be removed. This song needs to be removed pronto.

You know what would have been a perfect opportunity for a Cas solo? When he’s barging into the barn in Lazarus rising. You’ve got a high-intensity moment and a new, relevant character that didn’t get introduced in the opening number. That would have been the perfect chance for Cas to burst into song. Not to mention opportunity for subtext! Talk about 10/10.

Despite the total failure of the musical theater aspect of this episode, it is still a good one. Unfortunately, my background in theater and my binging of the channel from which I linked videos meant I spent the entire episode thinking about how good the play would have been on its own. Some leeway can be given to it since the audience of the episode is shown so little of the actual play. It's why I didn't go into anything about the plot. However, the songs can be evaluated, and, all in all, it really just doesn't pass.

#spn 10x5 #spn #supernatural #fan fiction

[villainousshakespeare]

Just one bed fluff with a character of your choosing, if it isn't taken yet?! I'm partial to Loki and Tom, but whoever floats your boat in the moment! Congratulations on 200 followers! You deserve them and more, sweetheart!

Sorry this took so long my dear! Hope it was worth the wait. I decided to do Tom for this. :-)

Kicked Out

Rated T - alcohol use, kissing, implied smut

Lots of fluff!

Tom Hiddleston/Reader

The music pulsed around you too loud for the small space. Mechanically you sipped your watered down margarita, trying to push down the depression that threatened to overcome you. If your friends back home could see you now they would be laughing at how excited you had been. Here you were, sitting alone at a hotel bar. This was not how you had envisioned things at all.

It had not all been bad of course. You loved the play you were acting in. Well, of course you did! It was Shakespeare! Even though you had only a bit role you were understudying Desdemona. And the cast was all first rate. You had already learned so much in just a few weeks! The upgrade in quality from your scrappy theater company where it was a struggle to get male performers who came anywhere near the talent level of the women such as yourself to an internationally renowned ensemble boasting genuine stars more than made up for going from playing the lead to a glorified extra.

If only you didn't find yourself feeling so cursedly shy. You had always had a bit of social anxiety, but until this tour it had never been an issue with castmates before. The theater was the one place you had always felt in your element, confident in yourself and able to mingle with everyone. You wished that were the case now. 

Being assigned to room with Tisha had seemed like a wonderful stroke of luck at first. Like you she was on her first international tour, and was therefore playing several smaller parts in the ensemble. She was bubbly, outgoing, and talented, immediately drawing the attention of everyone around her. Unfortunately for you, that everyone included Michael, the actor playing Othello. He had become visibly smitten with her during the first read through, ignoring everyone else to shamelessly flirt with her whenever the opportunity presented itself. You would have been happy for her if he wasn't married with a child. The situation didn't seem to bother Tisha, who carelessly told you that she saw the whole thing more as a career move than a real relationship. What happened on the road, she breezily said, didn't effect real life, except for possibly leading to bigger roles down the line when he recommended her for future shows.

It was none of your concern, you had told yourself. They were grown adults and for all you knew he had an understanding with his wife. The problem had begun tonight, when they decided to take their relationship to the next, inevitable level. You had assumed that when this occurred, as you had guessed from the start it would, they would avail themselves of his room. After all, as one of the stars of the production he had a large room all to himself. Unfortunately for you, this did not turn out to be the case. As a married celebrity, Tisha had explained to you in hushed tones, Michael's meant had to be careful in situations such as this. He could never be seen having a woman enter his room, much less stay over night! Of course you wouldn't mind vacating your room for a while, would you? She had pleaded with big puppy eyes in a tone that clearly said she did not expect you to say no, and had somehow ushered you out the door, blithely commenting that you should be able to come back in a few hours, just knock before entering to be sure. The door shutting in your face had been cruel and final.

So here you were, sitting by yourself at the hotel bar with a bartender who looked like he would dearly love to cash you out and head home. You could have found one of the other actors to let you crash wish them, but you didn't really know anyone that well yet. The insecurity that flooded you when you thought of knocking on a virtual stranger's door and asking to sleep on their floor was too overwhelming.

"Trouble sleeping?" a voice like melted caramel asked from just over your shoulder.

You choked on your drink, splashing a bit of it onto your lap and the bar in front of you. You would have recognized that voice anywhere. You heard it often enough in your fantasies. But though it had been three weeks since you had begun working with him you still could not believe that you were now hearing it in person as well. Never in your wildest dreams had you believed that you would actually book a show with Tom Hiddleston.

Turning on your stool you saw the man himself standing behind you. He was so attractive it made you want to cry sometimes. You had come into contact with other celebrities over the years, and in almost every case seeing them up close and personal had somehow ruined the fantasy of them. In real life they had each just seemed... ordinary. With Tom, it was the exact opposite. He was handsome on screen or in pictures, in real life he was literally breathtaking. From the top of his burnished gold curls to the soles of his well worn grey boots and everywhere in between he was perfect. 

"You could say that," you laughed uneasily, face turning crimson. You had never spoken to him alone before, and never anything other than vague platitudes at the end of rehearsals or addressed to a group at large. 

"Me too," he said, giving you a half grin. "Would you mind if I joined you?"

What could you do but shake your head and gesture to the seat next to you. Pulling out the bar stool he folded his long, lean frame onto it, stretching his legs out. Your feet dangled like a child's from the stool, but his reached the floor with ease you noticed. Damn, but his legs were long!

"I'm always nervous before opening in a new city," he admitted, signaling for the bartender to come over. He ordered a single malt scotch and another daiquiri for you, requesting that the waiter make it with top shelf tequila.

"Still?" you asked, surprised that he would get nervous given his lengthy resume.

"Of course," he shrugged. "Never trust an actor that tells you he's not nervous. He's either lying or not pushing himself hard enough. The day my nerves go is the day I pack it in. The challenge is everything."

"Well, it's good to know it's not just me," you said quietly with a soft smile. You were nervous of course, even if that wasn't why you were there now.

"This is your first professional show, isn't it?" he asked.

You nodded, surprised that he knew. Was your acting that clunky that your lack of experience showed in just your few scenes?

"I watched your audition tape," he told you, grabbing a handful of bar nuts and arranging them on a napkin. "I wanted to come to the auditions, but Ken thought it might make people nervous. I made sure to watch all the tapes though. You were very good. The passion you put into Lady Anne was remarkable."

You blinked at him, all words deserting you. He had seen that? You were quite proud of your Lady Anne, but he was right. It was hard enough to have Kenneth Branagh watching you audition. If Tom had been in the room, you doubt you would have been able to do it.

"Thank you," you said at last after a long pause while he snacked on peanuts. "I had no idea."

"I like having a say in things like that," he shrugged. "When you're doing a show that's this intense, who you're on stage with is a big deal. Also, both Ken and I are firm believers in giving new talent an oppertunity. After all, him taking a chance on me is how I ended up with my career. What kind of person would I be if I didn't pass on the favor. I was the one who pushed for you to be Desdemona's understudy, by the way."

"Really?" you wished the word didn't come out like a squeak.

"Mhm. In fact, I thought you could have played the part. Producers wanted a name though, and I guess you can't blame them. Have to make their money back. Still, you were quite impressive."

You were saved the trouble of responding by the arrival of your drinks. Tom thanked the bartender and asked to have the drinks, including the one you had had before, charged to his room before leaving a large tip on the bar.

"Thank you again," you said, sipping on your new and much stronger drink.

"No need," he waved it off. "Othello was my big break, you know. I played Cassio in a production with Chewitel Eijifor and Ewan McGregor. It was fantastic, but I always wanted to do Iago. I try not to make dream part lists, I'm a bit superstitious that way, but now that I'm actually doing it I can admit it."

"I would think it would be on any actor's list!" you said, trying to hide the fact that of course you knew about his previous Othello, along with every other part on his lengthy cv. "I would like to tackle it myself some day."

"I would love to see that," he smiled, looking sincere. "You have a great facility with the language. And there is no reason why Iago should have to be male. I must say that I greatly appreciate that we live in a time where the gender barriers for such superb parts are beginning to break down. What other roles do you dream of tackling? I promise I won't tell a soul!"

You weren't sure whether it was the alcohol warming you or the way he smiled and listened to you like you were the only person in the world, but you soon found yourself engaged in a long discussion of Shakespeare that ranged from contentious - you would never agree on who the ultimate Richard III was, with you preferring Ian McKellan and Tom being loyal to his good friend Benedict - to the ridiculous. He had you in stitches when he recounted the story of an actor (he refused to name them) who had so completely missed an entrance on press night for Much Ado that Tom and his scene partner had to improve in verse for three minutes. When the poor man had made it onto stage, he had not had time to put his shoes back on. The review in Time Out the next day had gone on for two paragraphs about the social commentary of having a barefooted Don Pedro. By that point you were on your third drink and laughing like old friends, hunched over and shaking with mirth.

"Oh! Yes!" Tom said suddenly, pulling himself up to standing and holding out his hand to you. "Come on!"

"What?" you asked, totally confused.

"This song!" he replied, enthusiasm shining from his face. 

"It's a good song," you agreed, listening to Michael Jackson's Beat It blaring out from the speakers.

"Well then?"

"What?"

"Dance with me!"

"Tom..."

"I refuse to take no for an answer," he insisted, dragging you to your feet and onto the dance floor.

Tom's energy was infectious, there was no avoiding it. Abandoning the last shreds of your dignity you surrendered to the music and the exuberance of the man spinning you around the floor. He was good of course, you had seen it on videos often enough, but he made you actually feel like you could dance as well. Michael Jackson turned into Prince and then Tina Turner as the two of you made idiots of yourselves in the empty bar.

"Last call," the beleaguered bar tender called, ruining the vibe. 

Looking around you realized that he had put up all of the chairs and wiped down the bar. As tempting as it was to order another drink and prolong the fun, you knew that it was not fair to the poor server. Still, you didn't know what to do with yourself now. Would Tisha and Michael be finished with whatever they were doing? Had it been long enough to go up?

As Tom helped put up the remaining bar stools and finished off his scotch you collected your purse. You stared at your phone, trying to decide whether or not to text Trisha.

"Okay, out with it," Tom said, looking at you with an unwavering stare.

"With what?" you evaded.

"The truth. Why were you down in the bar by yourself? And don't say nerves. I've talked to you enough now to know that you are not the sort to drown your anxiety in alcohol."

"You did," you said, not believing your audacity.

"I came down for tea," he said.

"Tea?" you parroted.

"There was no earl grey in my room. I like to have a cup in the morning while I get ready."

"But you had a scotch! Two of them!"

"Well, I would hardly be a gentleman if I let a lovely lady drink alone," he shrugged. "So. Spill it. What brought you down here all by yourself?"

"Um... it was just... a little crowded in my room," you tried to sound as noncommittal as possible.

"Ah, I see," his quick brain filled in the pieces. "You're rooming with Tisha, aren't you?"

"Yes," you answered slowly.

"So Michael has made his move has he?"

"You know?" you asked, somewhere between mortified and relieved.

"Well, they haven't exactly been subtle," he said with a wry laugh. "Also, he has a bit of a reputation. I had hoped it was just rumor, God knows there are enough of those about me, but it appears in this case there was some truth behind it. Don't tell me they kicked you out?"

"They told me I could come back later," you said quickly, trying for some reason to make them look not quite as selfish and failing miserably.

"Why couldn't they just have gone to his room? No, never mind. Foolish question. You poor thing. I am so sorry you have to deal with this. Would you like me to check with the front desk and get you another room?"

"Oh, no, that's really not necessary!" you said. You could only imagine the talk if that were to happen, trying to explain to the tour manager why there was an additional expense on the invoice. True, it was Tisha and Michael who should be made uncomfortable by it, but you just knew you would be the one to squirm from the scrutiny.

"Well, there is only one thing for it," he said, placing his large hand on the small of your back and ushering you out of the bar. "You shall stay with me."

"What?" for the second time your voice, pride of your acting arsenal, was rendered little more than a dog whistle.

"It's no problem," he shrugged, walking towards the elevator and taking you with him. "I have a large single room all to myself. I'm sure it will be much more comfortable than breaking up whatever your roommate and Michael have going on."

You looked away and bit your lip, trying to decide what to do. It was such a tempting offer. Not that you would ever get any sleep in the same room with this man, but at least you wouldn't have to face the love birds.

"Darling," Tom said, gently turning your face to look you in the eye, "you have no reason to worry. I am not Michael. I would never take advantage of a costar. I just want you to have a comfortable place to get a good night's rest before your performance."

"I never thought... Of course you wouldn't take advantage!" you said with a laugh. As if someone like Tom would try to take advantage of you, you thought. It would be hilarious if he wasn't standing there looking like an overly attentive angel.

"Good, then it's settled," Tom's smile beamed at you. "Come on."

And just like that you found yourself in the unbelievable position of movie star Tom Hiddleston showing you into a large corner hotel room on the top floor. The comparison to your small shared double was insane. You were fairly sure your whole room would fit into his en suite.

"Oh," you gasped, not intending it to be audible.

"What's wrong?" he asked, turning to you all solicitous.

"Nothing," you said miserably, trying not to stare at the giant king size bed. You didn't know why you had expected there to be two beds. He had told you it was a single room. As it was there was not even a couch for you to sleep on. Two large over stuffed chairs took up space on the other side of the room, and hard backed ones surrounded the table near floor to ceiling the windows.

"Ah," he said, perceptively following your thoughts. "Yes. One bed. If you like I can sleep in the chair."

"Oh, don't be ridiculous!" you blurted out.

"I assure you, I have suffered much worse," he smiled. "If you feel uncomfortable sharing, I will gladly curl up in the armchair."

"No, that's just silly," you said, swallowing around the lump in your throat. "After all, the bed is so big you could fit five people in it. As long as you don't mind, that is."

"Not a bit," he said rubbing the back of his neck. "Now, let me find you something to sleep in."

To no surprise you soon found yourself in a pair of long running shorts and a Legend t-shirt. You surreptitiously pinched yourself to make sure this was real. To be dressed in one of the patented Hiddleston outfits was surreal to say the least. 

You walked out of the bathroom to find Tom sitting on the edge of the bed in his own pair of jogging shorts, glorious broad chest bare. Trying desperately not to stare, you shyly walked around to the other side of the bed.

"Left side alright for you?" he asked, always the gentleman.

You nodded and quickly got yourself under the covers, pulling the blankets up to your chin. Tom turned off the light and got himself situated, leaving the bedding down at his waist. In the dim light you could just make out the whirl of hair on his chest as he curled onto his side facing you. Your fingers itched to reach out and feel it, but you managed to keep them to yourself. You could feel the heat radiating from him, like a live fire warming your body. He reached out gently and touched your face with the backs of his fingers, still staying to his side of the wide mattress.

"It was lovely getting to know you, darling," he said quietly. "Rest well."

You smothered the whimper threatening to erupt and rolled onto your side, facing the window as far away from him as you could get without hanging off the edge. Attempting to ignore the pooling desire in your center you settled in for what was sure to be a long, sleepless night.

When the alarm went off you almost jumped out of your skin. Blearily you tried to sit up, but a strong arm around you kept you anchored to the bed. A murmured curse sounded behind you and the beeping stopped. A face buried itself in your hair as you were pulled closer to the wall of chest at your back.

Oh sweet lord! you thought, as awareness of your location flooded into your brain. Gingerly you opened one eye just enough to confirm that you were half way across the bed in the center of the mattress. You must have rolled over in your sleep, you realized. Which of course meant that Tom had also drifted to the middle of the bed to meet you in what could only be described as he the most comfortable and simultaneously uncomfortable embrace of your life.

He felt divine. He body was all pliant skin over hard muscle, Warm and soft and deliciously scented. His obscenely large hand splayed across your waist, just below your breasts, to rest against the stripe of bare flesh where your borrowed t-shirt had ridden up in your sleep. His legs, those impossibly long limbs you had admired in the bar last night, were pressed against you, one rising up to hook over your own. It was heaven. If only it was intentional. Silently as you lay in his embrace your mind cringed awaiting the moment he woke the rest of the way and realized that the woman in his arms was only you, a pathetic cast mate he had taken pity on when she was cast out of her own room.

When you could bear it no longer, you tried to gently pull away from him. Once again his arm tightened around you, holding you close to him. You closed your eyes and tried to think of a way to delicately extricate yourself. That was when you heard your name, mumbled in his honey warm voice made rough by sleep into your hair.

"Stay," he said, snuggling further into you. "Please."

Well, when he asked so nicely! Really, you decided, when would you ever have such a chance again. Surrendering to the bliss, you allowed yourself to sink back against him. You would soak up these moments, you decided. Save them for when you were feeling lonely, or needed a happy memory to see you through a hard time. After all, what could be better than being held in Tom Hiddleston's strong arms?

It was too short a time before the alarm went off again. Tom swore, lifting his arm from around your body to turn it off. You felt him, more fully awake this time, realize the situation you found yourselves in. His body stiffened and his leg quickly slid off of yours.

"I am so sorry," he said, pulling his head from where it had lain in the top of your hair. "Please, darling, forgive me. I didn't mean to take advantage."

"No need to apologize," you assured him, trying to sound as though this sort of thing happened to you every day. "After all, we were both asleep."

"It's just been so long since I've had a beautiful woman in my bed," he sighed, arm rising to cover his eyes. "My body just reacted instinctually."

"Beautiful?" you heard yourself say, a note of disbelief in your voice.

"Can you doubt it?" he asked, sounding surprised himself. 

"Generally speaking," you laughed, thinking that this man calling anyone beautiful was like the sun calling a lightning bug bright.

"My darling, you are stunning," he said, rising up on his elbow to look at you. "You are also intelligent, funny, and delightful. I thought I had a crush on you before I got to know you last night, but now..."

"You have - a crush?" 

"Damn," he said quietly. "Forgive me. I should not have said that."

Slowly, not daring to believe what you had just heard, you rolled over so that you were facing him. Hair mussed and eyes slightly unfocused Tom looked even more devastating than usual. A light growth of stubble shadowed his jaw, and in the dawn light his freckles stood out against his pale skin.

"Did you mean it?" you asked, stunned.

"There are few things as attractive... as sexy as talent," he said quietly, not meeting your eye. "When I saw you act, well, I could scarce keep my eyes off of you."

"You do realize that you are the most talented person I have ever seen," you told him, shock bringing out your candid side.

"You are very kind," he blushed.

"I am very honest," you answered. "You really think of me like that?"

"I think of you all the time," he replied, looking at you at last. "Often like that. I have spent the last three weeks trying to work up the courage to speak with you. When I saw you sitting alone in the bar last night, I thought someone must have heard my prayers."

"I am in a dream," you said. "I am in a dream and any moment now I will wake up and be back in the small black box theater performing for ten people."

"If you are in a dream than I am too," he smiled. "Darling, I understand if you want to leave. Things with me are never simple. It is an unfortunate side effect of the career I have chosen. But if you are willing to try, I would love to court you."

"Court me?" you grinned at his archaic turn of phrase. "Like with flowers and poems and such?"

"If you would like," he said, surprising you once more. "I have written a poem or two in my day, though I am more adept at songs. They are more forgiving. For now, we could perhaps start with breakfast?"

"Breakfast sound wonderful," you said, realizing suddenly that you were in fact hungry.

"I will order room service then," he nodded. "But first, sweetheart, would it be too forward of me... may I kiss you?"

Unable to speak you nodded your head once. Tom smiled, and reached down to grasp your chin gently between his thumb and finger. With an aching tenderness he brought his lips to yours. The kiss was soft and sweet and full of promise. You felt it all the way down to your toes in ways that far more invasive kisses had never moved you. Your back arched and you molded yourself to him, his free arm encircling you to hold you close. Emboldened by the embrace, you let your own hands find their way around him and to his back where they slid down the naked skin in a caress. With a quiet moan he pulled away, and you briefly felt his arousal brush against your let as he let you go.

"The things you do to me," he sighed, fingers lightly tracing your face. 

"I know what you mean," you breathed, feeling light headed from the kiss.

"I started this leg of the tour irritated at Michael," he confided. "Now I am tempted to send him a thank you gift. What do you thing? Champagne? Chocolates?"

"If we give them all that, won't it just encourage them the next night?" you giggled.

"Ah, now you see my clever plan," he teased. "How else can I hope to get you back in my bed?"

"Tom," you spoke seriously, "clever plans are not needed. All you need do is ask."

"Hmm," he grinned, pulling you close once again. "I am suddenly more happy than I can say that they forgot my tea."

"So am I," you smiled, nestling in against him. "You have no idea."

"Well then," he said. "You will just have to show me. Fortunately, we have months to go, and I for one have never been so happy to start a tour."

As you burrowed back together under the covers you could not help but agree.

@yespolkadotkitty @hopelessromanticspoonie @nonsensicalobsessions @hiddlesholic

#fic #fanfic #milestone challenge #tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston x reader

[aforrestofstuff]

What do you think the OPM characters' guilty pleasures would be? I feel like Tatsu loves soap operas and Atomic Samurai secretly loves a really popular boy band, like SMAP

Thanks for your request, anon! Sorry this took me so long to get to, you were buried in my inbox lol. But I hope this was worth the wait because oh boy this required all 3 of my brain cells.

Tornado of Terror: As you said, soap operas. She also loves candy apples in canon. But...she also is a HUGE fan of those really cheesy Cosmopolitan magazines that have all of the personality quizzes and the “which hot male celeb would date you” scenarios. She doesn’t fall for it one bit. In fact, she hate reads those fuckers in the same way that people pay to go see bad movies. It’s fun.

Silverfang: Yoga and following along to some cheesy-ass 80s workout videos. I’ve said he likes yoga in a previous headcanon, but he also likes to exercise along to some obnoxious 80s pop while some dude in a leotard instructs him on what to do from a TV screen. He wears sweatbands and legwarmers, too. The whole shebang. He only does it when he’s alone, though. Sometimes he’ll try to teach yoga to his disciples as a way to help them decompress after a long training session, but his workout tapes are his best-kept secret.

Atomic Samurai: I don’t know what a SMAP is, but he’s definitely got some questionable music choices going on considering he’s... well, the way that he is. I’d say he likes to listen to old country, like Marty Robbins and Glen Campbell. It’s really funny because you’ve got this intimidating man from Japan (or a fictional universe basically set in Japan) with a badass katana and shit but inside that empty head of his, there’s just a faint “out in the west Texas town of El Paso....”

Child Emperor: Picking at scabs. He’s often on his knees fixing shit in his lab, and he probably gets burned all the damn time from playing around with lasers so he’s undoubtedly always has a wound healing somewhere. Whenever he’s working on something, he’ll just absentmindedly pick at his scabs. It’s a bad habit and he knows it, but nothing beats the feeling of peeling off an entire patch of that shit. So satisfying.

Metal Knight: Buying books. He doesn’t even read them. He just buys bigass novels with smart-sounding names to fill up his library because he thinks it’ll make his dick grow another three inches or some shit. One of the few things he likes in this world (besides homicide) is the smell of a new book. If he’s feeling particularly pissy, he’ll go into his library and just ssssssnnnnnnnnnniififfffffffffff. He spends an outrageous amount of money on it. If he has anyone over (which is unlikely, but hypothetically speaking) and they mention his library by asking something like “have you read all of these?” It’ll be one of the few times in his life that he’ll feel shame.

King: Reading and writing fanfiction based on his favorite video game/anime series. Nobody knows he does this except his small following online, of course. And even more so, nobody online knows he’s an ultra-popular S-Class hero who’s friends with the most powerful man on earth. He’s actually a pretty decent writer, he just doesn’t take himself too seriously so the plotline to his stories tend to get a little haywire and overly self-indulgent. Let him have his fun. He just wants to be a Sailor Scout.

Zombieman: Singing. He actually used to be a good singer (he sounded like a discount Steve Perry back in the day), but constant smoking really fucked up his voice. He might as well have lungs the size of grapes because he can’t carry a note for more than 2 seconds without wheezing like an accordion with asthma. He’s never sang in front of anyone before because he thinks it’s silly thing that isn’t worth showing off. Play anything from The Eagles though, and he’ll have a hard time resisting.

Drive Knight: He likes to open up panels in his arms and legs to play with the wires (basically a robot’s version of nerve endings, I’m assuming) just so he can feel something. It’s kind of sad because he doesn’t experience pain or the cold or being tickled... (I know what y’all are thinking and you’d better STOP). So he sometimes takes it upon himself to dick around with his insides and dip his toe into what it feels like to be human, even if it’s just for a little bit. He’s super secretive about it (he’s just secretive about everything, really) because he doesn’t want anyone to know that he desires something outside of being a weapon of mass destruction justice.

Pig God: His whole schtick is basically indulging in a guilty pleasure — pigging out on delicious food with no regard whatsoever for one’s overall health. Other than that, however, he does like to collect body pillows. There, I said it. All he fucking does is eat and he’s too much of a big boi to be going out 24/7, so he’s gotta be on the internet/watching anime/playing video games/reading manga during all of that downtime between his stints of doing hero work. His bed is fucking ginormous to handle all of that big boy-ness and on it, he has his body pillow nest. He rests on a throne made for kings. A true icon.

Superalloy Darkshine: Also working out along to some cheesy 80s exercise videos. His hero outfit was inspired from what those ravishing instructors would wear on the television. Well, it was supposed to be a full leotard but it ripped every time he flexed just a tiny bit so the speedo is the only thing that’s left. He’s gotta hella rhythm and keeps up with the music using little to no effort. Although, he can’t go too hard because he’s also a big boi and he’ll literally shake the entire building if he gets too turnt up. Dance muscle boy, dance.

Watchdog Man: Eating too many dog treats lol. Sometimes while he’s stationed on his little podium thing, visitors will leave him little offerings like dog treats and other miscellaneous food items/toys. He never takes them or eats them in front of people, but he often brings everything home with him after a long day just to gobble that shit up. He’s gained a little weight since he started doing it but you can’t even notice it because his suit is hella bulky. Some of it is due in part to stress-eating because being a dog and dude at the same time is hectic, but it’s honest work.

Flashy Flash: Racing shit. Whenever he’s on his travels during, say, assassination missions or hero work, he gets hella bored really quickly. So, to help with this, he’ll often race birds or planes flying in the sky on his way to his destination to see who’s quicker (it’s always him). Sometimes he’ll even play catch with himself by throwing a pine cone or something and running to the place he guesses it’ll land before it even touches the ground. He just does a ton of weird speedster shit whenever he’s bored and he’ll deny it if anyone asks.

Genos: Purposefully putting a little bit too much oil on his joints after each upgrade so he’ll be as slick as a salamander. It’s a really funny feeling to be able to move your limbs with little to no resistance without having to worry about popping or breaking anything. It just makes him feel so agile despite being like, a hunk of actual metal. If he wasn’t so uptight, he would loosen the screws in his fingers to he can bend them almost all the way back (he’s actually thought about it a few times), but both Dr. Kuseno and his 3 remaining braincells attested to that. He just likes to tinker around with his body and see what weird shit he can do. It’s a bad habit because it’s led to a few things being broken on multiple occasions.

Metal Bat: Zenko’s shitty pop music. Whenever he drops her off at school or piano practice, he’ll immediately go home and blast that shit on full volume (because he’s practically deaf from always jumping out of falling buildings and continuously blasting music in his earbuds) while doing chores and the like. He’s one of those people that HAVE to have something going on in the background as they’re getting shit done. He’d rather be caught dead than listening to the OPM equivalent of Taylor Swift because he knows Zenko would never let him live it down.

Tanktop Master: Wearing suits around the house when he’s not even going anywhere. He’s got to wear his tanktop 24/7 whenever he’s in public to keep up The Image (which he has no problem with, he genuinely loves the tanktop ideology) but he also needs to feel fancy every once and a while. So, if he happens to have the time while in between appearances, he’ll prance around in a suit tailored just for him. Because he’s so fucking huge that he had to pay someone a large sum to custom make an outfit that actually fits. He is 7-motherfucking-feet tall. 7.

Puri-Puri Prisoner: Making Valentine’s Day cards all times of the year. Listen, it gets boring as hell in prison. Sometimes the guards will let all of the inmates have a little glitter and glue to keep themselves busy because no harm can come of a little arts and crafts, right? He likes to make cards on the daily just to let all of his lovers know how much he appreciates them. If they express even the slightest amount of disdain for his creations, he’ll spent the next week crying in the darkest corner of his cell block. He also likes origami. Origami is huge in prison because it’s hella time-consuming and guaranteed to calm a busy mind. His favorite things to make are little unicorns.

Amai Mask: Bath bombs. There have been several mishaps in which he’s used a poorly-made bath bomb and came out of the tub looking like Shrek but he’s grown and lot since then, okay? After a long day or a particularly stressful concert, he’ll sink into some hot water and drop a ball of lavender-scented goodness in there. It’s become a bit of an addiction because he’s got multiple cabinets dedicated solely to his collection, but at least he always smells divine.

Iaian: Shakespearean dramas. Kama got him hooked on theater shit and he’s since ripped through all of the most well-known plays. He thinks in iambic pentameter. It wasn’t always noticeable since he’s a quiet, well-reserved guy but his fellow disciples and Kami have recently noticed that he’s developed a bit of a dramatic flair. Even worse, he’s started calling himself a knight whenever he puts on his armor. Everyone prays it’s just a phase but seeing as how stubborn Iaian is, that seeks highly unlikely. Kami is dying inside because he can’t handle another drama nerd.

Okamaitachi: Soap operas, like Tatsumaki. Kama is the most dramatic out of all of the disciples so it’s only natural that she’d like the most dramatic genre of any show out there. She doesn’t exactly watch them religiously though. She’s the type of viewer to drop off the face of the earth for three seasons and come back without knowing what the fuck is going on (because the disciples have limited access to cable due to Kami’s dumbassery and ignorance to anything technology-related), but still cry during the finale anyway because oh no these people are so hot and one of them is deaaaaaad and the other one is that person’s long-lost sister....

Bushidrill: Taking alcohol from Atomic Samurai’s stash every so often. Bushidrill knows what the good shit is and he could buy it himself if he wanted to, but why would he when there’s a perfectly good alcoholic to steal from living right down the hall? He only takes in small doses because, believe it or not—he’s smart, but Kami isn’t gonna notice regardless of whether or not Bushi takes 1 or 5 bottles at a time because the old shit couldn’t spot a purple raccoon if it was 3 feet in front of him. There have been times where Bushi has opened bottles of Kami’s alcohol right in front of him just to play God and he always, without missing a beat, says “Oh, we have the same taste. How neat.”

Fubuki: I’ve said this before in a previous headcanon, but she has a mild obsession with Victorian aesthetic. She’s got a small collection of semi-authentic ballgowns that cost upwards of a-fuckton-of-money each, but anything’s worth it to be able to play dress-up with Lily. Fubuki’s favorite thing is making Lily feel beautiful because everyone has been an insecure teenager at one point and she knows how it feels to not be comfortable in one’s own skin. This isn’t exactly a guilty pleasure because she’s not guilty about it, but it’s almost gotten to a point where an intervention is needed. She’s got so many damn dresses and sooooo much fine china....

Saitama: Retail therapy, lol. Saitama is only good at budgeting because he has no choice given how fucking poor he is, but give this boy even a little bit of leeway and he’ll buy the ugliest clothes (to which he thinks look poppin’) and the best meats without even batting an eye. His entire manga collection is the product of him having little to no self control the moment he realizes he’s got a bit of money to spend on himself. This is also the only time he’ll experiment with cooking because now he can actually afford to fuck up, literally.

Mumen Rider: Sweets! I’ve said this in a previous hc but he has a major sweet tooth. You can substitute salt for sugar in any given recipe and he’ll see it as a major improvement because he just goes absolutely buckwild for anything sweet. His pancreas is suffering, but he believes nothing feels better than curling up under the covers on a rainy day with a heaping helping of milk chocolate. The only thing that makes him feel better after getting beat to shit is a kiss on the cheek and box of his favorite cookies (and some bananas, lol).

Sonic: Like Flash, he also likes racing things. But, in addition to that, his guilty pleasure is doing his own hair in elaborate hairstyles (when it was longer). He’s pretty much homeless so he’s got a lot of time to himself in between murders. This is when you can find him sitting in the woods somewhere braiding flowers into his hair and tying it off with a moss ribbon. He’d never admit he does this because he’s a big macho man and he’d probably cry.

Garou: Spicy chips. I’ve said this before in a previous hc, but he absolutely inhales his food without even tasting it half the time so it’s not even like he gets to enjoy the flavor that much. He just likes the burn because he’s a shithead. He also doesn’t fear death or a torn-up asshole, so he’ll eat an entire family-sized bag of the OPM-universe equivalent to Takis without even batting an eye. He’s been beat to shit so many times that the agony that comes with downing so much spice is lost on him. He doesn’t even need water. It’s insane. Someone stop this madman at once.

#one punch man #opm #tatsumaki #silverfang #atomic samurai #child emperor #metal knight #headcanon #opm headcanons #king #zombieman #drive knight #pig god #superalloy darkshine #watchdog man #flashy flash #metal bat #genos #puri puri prisoner #tanktop master #amai mask #iaian #bushidrill #okamaitachi #garou #saitama #fubuki #mumen rider #speed of sound sonic #asks

[scoobydoominuscoobydoo]

Alright, I guess we should talk about Scoob!

So Scoob! was digitally release nearly a month ago and Mod Silas and I finally got around to watching it. 

For anyone who liked it and don’t wanna read me heavily criticize it then I’ll just spoil you right now:

I did not like Scoob! at all.

And it was really disappointing because this is the first wide release film Scooby has gotten in 16 years. That’s a long time to think of bringing Scooby to the general public who don’t go out of their way to watch every single direct-to-video movie. The announcement of a new feature length film was two or three years ago and I was really excited to hear it because I was expecting some high-quality content.

My opinion of it quickly dropped a lot when it was revealed that the original voice cast wouldn’t be in it. That’s fine all on it’s own but they did it without even letting the original cast know they wouldn’t be a part of this (Besides Frank but he wasn’t even cast as who he originally played). Seeing both Matthew and Grey’s responses to this made me sad and I was significantly less excited for this movie. 

Suddenly the concept of this movie not being that good became very real to me. How much passion can you have for Scooby-Doo when you ignore the original cast and hire people who have never done anything for the franchise before that.

Despite all of that, I was giving Scoob! the benefit of the doubt because I really wanted this movie to be good. I wanted this movie to open up the potential for more major Scooby projects. And while this movie did well financially I find myself so disappointed that after 16 years this is what we got.

Since I hated almost everything about this movie I’m gonna break it up into a numbered list (otherwise I’ll be ranting endlessly).

#1: This movie fails at telling a story.

When the trailer was dropped I remember being like, “Great. Lets recycle the whole Scoob and Shag friendship as a central narrative. Not like they’ve done that a million times before.” And then next thing you know, they’re on the Falcon Fury and I was so not excited. That was two plot-lines they’ve played with before and I can’t remember the last time anyone cared about the Blue Falcon. It’s one of the weaker movies and nobody talks about that one episode of MI that he’s in.

But again, I was going to let it slide because it’s still possible to create a good story out of something recycled.

The movie opens up with them when they were kids and I was already bummed because this movie is taking place in present times and not the 70′s or the 80′s. They allude to the fact that Shaggy enjoys stuff from that time period (while he’s scrolling through a smartphone) but that’s not the same. This concept bugged me for the rest of the movie because the majority of scenes where the gang is solving something they just Google it and the the scene is over. As opposed to it taking place before the internet and writers would have to get creative. And while I love the gang as kids because when it’s done in the show they have so much charm and life the beginning scenes are kinda pointless and don’t establish anything major. I think they were trying to show that the gang have been really close since they were little but it doesn’t come off that way. Not to mention the whole scene with the gang together feels really stiff and I was salty that Shaggy wasn’t wearing a Commander Cool costume instead of his Blue Falcon outfit.

At this point I was waiting for the character conflict to be introduced because that’s a key convention in every Scooby movie. There’s always a man in a mask to chase but that’s not where the story comes together. The story comes from some sort internal conflict within the characters.

The phantom dinosaurs in Legend of the Phantosaur are awesome but that’s not what the movie is about. It’s about Shaggy overcoming his own internal hurdles.

That’s been a consistent pattern in the best of the Scooby films (even all four of the live action ones do this) and I was waiting for it to be identified. And then next thing I know we’re twenty minutes into the movie and I’m not sure what it’s even about. The scene where the gang talk about wanting to become a legitimate business happens so fast and it took me like five minutes to be like, “Wait is this our conflict?” A fight between the gang about Shaggy and Scooby’s usefulness to the cause? (Which is also a recycled plot but whatever.) Their fight happens so fast and isn’t taken all that seriously so Shag and Scoob’s anger seems more played for a laugh than anything else.

But then they cut to the bowling alley and the two of them seem genuinely upset. And I can’t help but think if you had let the earlier scene escalate into an actual argument that I would have bought the hurt feelings. But then none of it matters because Shag and Scoob are immediately attacked and rescued by the Blue Falcon and someone’s OC. And when the rest of the gang find out they instantly feel bad and so I guess the tension between the gang wasn’t supposed to be the central conflict.

Now it’s back to being about Shaggy and Scooby and their millionth time being the chosen one.

Shaggy becomes pretty upset because Scooby is getting into the whole superhero thing and isn’t giving Shag a second thought. But the thing is, none of this was built up. The villain and Simon Cowell tell Shag he isn’t special and both of those times aren’t even remotely emotional. They briefly mention that Shag has some self confidence issues and that turns into him getting mad at Scooby for taking off his collar and playing hero. Ignoring the fact that this is not in character at all it’s clear that the story is now forcing conflict because we’re 45 minutes into the movie and all we’ve done is slapstick.

Shaggy and Scooby’s falling out is ridiculous because they’ve only been mad at each other for like ten minutes of the whole movie so there aren’t any stakes at all. You know they’re gonna make up because this fight came out of nowhere and wasn’t built up at all. Shag and the gang reuniting isn’t emotional at all and Shaggy breaking up the fight could have been so much better if it was just done better.

And that’s how this whole movie is, this plot had the potential to be great scenes could have gotten something from me but nothing is built up and it can’t stay consistent.

By the final battle of the film we’ve only had two things resembling character arcs in Shag and the Blue Falcon and neither of them have any weight. The movie tells us what we already know, that Shaggy is indeed useful to the gang and I just want this movie to be over.

And I guess because they wanna tug on your heartstrings the writers threw in a little self-sacrifice. And I’m not against that at all I think that’s a good resolution to the arc they were trying to give Shaggy but the thing is there’s no stakes or tension in the scene. It just happens and we’re meant to be sad about it but I can’t because nobody else in the scene seems to think it’s all that depressing besides Scooby. And like two minutes later the conflict is resolved and we get our obligatory dance party at the end. 

That whole thing is not a story, nothing is really accomplished by the end and nobody has really gone anywhere. 

There was no Point A which takes us to Point B which brings us to Point C. This was an insane labyrinth of lines running through as many points as they could and then calling it a day. There was no natural progression and none of the conflicts presented even mattered because they were immediately resolved anyway. That makes sense for a TV show but this is a feature length film. I honestly could not believe they were going to release that in theaters because there is no way it’s worth the money. 

It was so devoid of the Scooby-Doo charm and this movie felt more lifeless than anything I’ve watched in a long time.

#2: The movie does a bad job of portraying the gang’s friendship.

One of the fandom’s favorite parts of the Scooby-Doo franchise is the friendship between the gang and the way their characters interact.

But in this movie they behave more like coworkers than anything else. They try to play up the gang feeling guilty and missing the guys but it’s really not convincing. And it’s clear that the fight was more or less to contribute to Velma, Daphne and Fred’s story rather than the whole gang. They spend most of their scenes talking about the mystery or what Shaggy and Scooby would be doing if they were there. The one time in the movie where I can buy them being best friends is when we watch that accidentally took a video instead of a selfie. I thought that was really cute and showed the gang’s dynamic effectively.

The end of the movie where Shaggy is supposedly sealed in the Underworld forever is so underwhelming because Scooby is the only one reacting. Like that’s supposed to be their best friend of ten years who they don’t think they’ll ever see again and they barely bat an eyelash until they go to comfort Scooby.

My first thought was, “There is no way the gang would just let Shaggy sacrifice himself.” And I kept wondering why no one else was trying to stop him or hold him back. 

It’s annoying because I like when the whole gang’s relationship a key part of the plot rather than just Shaggy and Scooby + the other three who are also here.

#3: The villain and the Blue Falcon are pointless.

You could have taken Brian and Dick Dastardly out of the movie and replaced them with anyone and the movie would not have changed at all.

The Blue Falcon squad add nothing to the story and are mainly just there for ......nostalgia I guess??? But nobody even remembers the Blue Falcon??? 

The scenes with Dastardly are easily the worst parts because he’s just a copy-paste villain who sometimes says semi relatable things and it’s meant to be hilarious. His whole plan to open the Underworld just to get his dog back could have been interesting but obviously it wasn’t because nothing is properly built up in this movie.

Their first mistake was immediately revealing who their villain was right off the bat. I won’t be salty that they used actual supernatural forces because Scooby has done that plenty of times. I am salty that they just up and tell you who the puppetmaster is without any goal at anonymity which just goes against everything Scooby is about.

And they’ve done this multiple times. Whenever real supernatural forces are brought into the mix that does change anything because the forces are almost always being controlled by a man in a mask. This sticks to the Scooby belief that the real evil in our world comes from man and not fictional monsters.

#4: This movie’s presentation is not good.

I will quickly say that I actually liked Shaggy’s design in the movie even though Mod Silas already drew Shag with a long sleeve under his shirt and I think that’s a lot better looking. Whatever, I thought he was cute.

I was talking about how stiff the opening scenes felt, well the whole movie looks pretty stiff as well. 

The character designs are distracting (every girl in this movie with their hair down looks like they’re just wearing a wig it looks so bad I don’t understand hair hasn’t looked back in animation for like a decade) and the animation is pretty sloppy. The directing and camera movements also don’t make any half the time and only make everything more jarring. I have nothing against CG animation but I feel like this movie was trying to be 2D in a 3D space and and was just not working out.

Also the voice acting in the movie is really not good. Like idk how this movie managed to get a bad performance out of these pretty renowned actors but none of them sound like they wanna be there or even really care. Which is funny because if they had kept the original cast you know they would have given it 110% since they actually have passion playing these roles. If the performances were actually good I feel like I would have enjoyed the movie a little more.

They also play some standard pop songs and that confused me because they literally played the original theme song at the beginning. Like you guys have the What’s New theme which everyone loves, a plethora of other theme songs, and two Hex Girls songs you could have played. 

When the dance party at the end happens Mod Silas pointed out that it was a wasted opportunity because instead of having the Blue Falcon be a DJ they could have just brought in the Hex Girls or Simple Plan.

But they didn’t do that and I honestly wonder if the people who made this movie care about Scooby-Doo at all.

#5: The things that I actually liked.

Again, I liked that scene where they do that cute selfie thing, I thought was adorable and accurately showed their dynamic.

I also liked that Daphne was the one to point out what Shag and Scoob contribute to the team because I’m biased.

When they address that Shag and Scoob are they ones that make sure the gang is eating I like that, I thought it was very in character and made a lot of sense.

I like when Captain Caveman showed up for literally no reason and was voiced by Tracy Morgan. Simply because it was so dumb I had to laugh.

I like the gang’s group hugs because those always showcase how tall Shag is compared to everyone and they all deserve a hug.

Any of the lines Fred said because they were the majority of the actually funny jokes in the movie.

The scene where Shag, Scoob and Daph are split off and she keeps getting her spare Scooby Snacks stolen by Scooby. I just love that trio for obvious reasons and it was the only part of the movie where I felt happy.

At the end when Shaggy yells at the gang and tells them what to do because I just always like it when he does that, it always throws the rest of the gang off and it’s funny.

The scene where they unmask Dastardly and it’s Simon Cowell and then they unmask Cowell and it’s Dastardly again. Like the smartest joke the movie had.

The Hex Girls poster at the carnival because it tricked me into thinking we’d see them at some point.

I liked DynoMutt, I though his design was cool and he got the other half of the actually funny jokes.

When Blue Falcon does that phone gag and is all like, “Adventure is calling!!” And the scene is supposed to be exciting but then Shag immediately is like, “No thanks.” I thought that was in character and pretty funny before being taken back because conflicts are resolved instantly in this movie.

Conclusion:

When you’re passionate with something as underground as Scooby-Doo you find yourself getting very protective of the legacy it leaves behind.

Granted this franchise has always had some black marks on it’s record but that’s to be expected since it’s a 50 year-old series.

Scoob was going to bring Scooby-Doo back into the limelight after such a long time remaining on CN or Boomerang respectively. And was just so devoid of the passion that even MI had, it felt like more of a cash grab than anything else. And it bums me out because there are so many good things that we could have gotten from an animated theatrical release.

But instead we got an hour and forty-five minutes of nothing and that isn’t what Scooby deserves at all. I can only hope that someone will want to try again and this time, they’ll actually care.

(Feel free to share your own thoughts on the movie and maybe discuss point I made that you agree/disagree with.)

#mod ninja #scoob! #the disappointments in 2020 just keep wracking up #not to mention this movie was actually surprisingly boring since there was no tension #most of the time we were comparing it to phantosaur and it just made us more pained #seriously i don't think i wanna watch that movie ever again

[evien-stark]

✧I Need You✧  Chapter 200

The last Sunday of the month had invited all the charitable rich to another gaudy event. Having your picture taken as you entered was really the only price worth paying. Six digit donations were nothing to people with deep pockets. They wanted adoration. Acknowledgment of their good deeds for humanity. Rich people were the worst. And you and Tony were as rich as they came. So you would know. 

And one thing you certainly knew was how much you absolutely hated these events. The fake smiles, the cheesy laughter, the shows for cameras lined outside an obvious event carpet. Paid paparazzi and news outlets parked every inch of the way. Walking the generous mile (at least it definitely felt that way) into the event where, once safely inside away from all the cameras and microphones, the pretending would stop. They’d preen and dote upon one another and forget the reason for even being there- if they even knew which charity they’d made an appearance for at all. Usually just personal assistants writing out the RSVPs and picking outfits, calling cars, and writing checks. 

These people didn’t care about anyone but themselves. ...but money was money. 

And money they wouldn’t even notice was gone going to help people that were in definite need was worth something, right? It was worth slugging through these events multiple times a year. It was just rude to send money and not show. No- you were part of the show. So you had to go. Much as you were too busy and too uninterested in being anywhere near this social circle the rich and famous had crafted for themselves. Safe and familiar away from the less fortunate that they were celebrating- 

“You alright, honey?” Tony had probably noticed your mean-mugging and glassy eyed stare from across the room as you looked at yourself in the vanity mirror. 

That was signal enough that all the fussing about was over. Both hairdresser and makeup artist taking their cue to put on the finishing touches and scurry away. “I’m just tired.” Feeling safe to say this once the two of you were alone in the bedroom again. This was your answer more often these days, which was probably not a great thing. 

Standing up, you discarded your robe and went to unzip your overly ritzy dress from its garment bag. While Tony was still half turned away getting himself dressed, you stepped into it. A gorgeous entirely too-expensive dress, as always for something like this. It was black with champagne-gold colored details. A snugly fitted mermaid line with a slightly large train at the bottom. The arms and extremely deep v-line were all sheer mesh, giving the illusion of bareness, gold leaflet details spreading across your collar bones, lining the cups of the dress and the V shape, down over your hips, some across your arms, and many lining the bottom. Perfectly matched, of course, with Tony’s black and exact same champagne-gold tux. Black pants and suit jacket, black button up with a gold waistcoat, pocket square, and bow tie. One he was currently fumbling with. Or pretending to. As he always did. You went to his aid (as you always did), reaching up to tie the fabric to expert perfection. His smile was grateful and warm. “What would I do without you?” 

“I shudder to think.” Teasing him a little before you turned opposite him, gently guiding your expensively-done hair forward over your shoulder. “Would you mind?”

The tips of his fingers were warm and soft as he glided them down the length of your exposed back. Turned away, you didn’t mind the flutter of your eyes as they closed. But hiding one expression from him didn’t help- as you breathed out softly, probably in that overly telling way. You could hear his smirk without even having to look at him. “Zipper’s already down. I’m sure you could get out of the rest of it without my help, but… since you asked…” 

He went so far as to drift his hands back up and slip them underneath the shoulders of your dress, like he actually might take it off you. You turned your head back and were too amused to make the sentiment as serious as you would have liked. “Tony, stop.” 

“Should I?” His brow arched in that high delicate line. “You don’t wanna go, I don’t wanna go…” So why not stay here? A question left unasked. Not that it mattered. You just ended up shaking your head. “Well, we have to. It’ll be less trouble that way.” If you paid your charitable entrance fee and then didn’t show, somebody would make a stink about it come tomorrow. And that was just more headache than you needed. 

“You say that- and yet-” Protesting, even as he finally acquiesced, hands dropping to pull your zipper up all the way. Practically sealing you into your dress. Maybe locked was the better word. 

“Let’s not tempt fate.” All you had to do was get in, take pictures, pretend to be happy talking to any number of people who would bother you that night, maybe drink a glass of wine, have a dance, and then leave. How much trouble could happen between all that? 

As you laid your hand on his chest, he put his over yours, just holding you there for a second. His smile then was brief. “You’re right.” 

But it was already too late for that. 

                                                               ---

This being the first public event the two of you had attended since letting everyone in on the engagement, Tony seemed to be hamming it up more than usual. Sure, he was a shutterbug and seemed to enjoy posing for cameras (thumbs up, peace signs, grand gesturing as was his way), he was now involving you. And no doubt he’d be looking over the photos that came out of this event in the morning. 

He seemed to switch his handedness- usually he’d be throwing up signs with his right, as came natural to him, but now he made every move with his left. Displaying his ring proudly. Making it obvious and clear- look, we’re engaged, this is going to be my wife, I get to be her husband. To say that he was glowing would be putting it mildly. His smiles were more genuine than they’d ever be for something like this. 

Because he had you at his side. And he was showing off. While the two of you walked down the outside aisle to the event, he had an arm around your waist. And when you stopped to pose for the cameras, he’d take your hand in his and press a kiss to the back. Yes. Even calling it showing off was putting it mildly. Tony Stark was strutting as a new-fiance. And maybe that made all of this worth it. 

But letting your guard down for even a second or believing that the evening was going your way invited trouble. Trouble in the form of a woman in an all white dress storming her way to you. In contrast to your sharp and gorgeous lines she was wearing a billowy frock that seemed a little hard to move around in. You guessed she was going for some angelic vibe. 

The second Joy Meachum stopped- not in front of you, but at your side, purposefully so the cameras and press could hear and see the both of you clearly, you held a hand up to her. “Don’t do this here.�� Whatever she was planning, whatever she wanted to say, you wanted no part of it. But especially not in front of the hungry press. 

Tony’s hand squeezed yours but he maintained a calm and watchful air. Joy just grinned. “Why not? They’ll eat this up. It’s good for business.” 

“Not yours, certainly.” Trying to scare her away with a steely-eyed stare. “And unlike you, I’m not a dancing circus monkey. I don’t take pride in putting on a show just for press points.” 

This incensed her quite clearly, but underneath that there was a certain wave of fear. Hm. So Joy Meachum was frightened of you. As she should be. But putting on a brave face. “I just wanted to say that I think it’s extremely nasty, what you’re doing. Women like us should prop each other up. There are so few of us in the business. Attacking me-” 

“I made a simple statement about the affairs of your business. Nothing I said was untrue, either, by the way. And if it were, you’d have already tried to slap me with a lawsuit. Grandstanding will not pull you out of this hole you’ve put yourself in.” You remained expertly calm, not giving in to this theater she was putting on. 

But she just couldn’t help herself. “I know you’re helping the guy going around pretending to be Danny Rand. I think it’s tasteless and some sort of power play for-”

“Please. If I wanted Rand Enterprises I’d have it tomorrow. You’re lucky I don’t want to be associated with the kind of overpriced drugs you sell.” Okay. You were giving in just a little. But she wanted a fight. “Go away now, you’re making a fool out of yourself.” 

Her hands went tight into little fists at her side. “You have no idea what I’ve been through to bring this company where it is. I was born into this. I belong here. You just slept your way up.” 

The roll of your eyes probably wasn’t dramatic enough. Tony seemed like he had a mind about him to say something but you finally gave him a return squeeze to keep him at bay. You could and would handle this yourself. “You can’t preach to me the merits of friendly business feminism in one breath and then in the very next call me a slut- but- let’s pretend for a second that that’s even true. It at least goes to show how much more work I put into my career than you did with yours. You don’t get credit for falling out of your mother onto a pile of money.” Shock was a bold color on her, and a dozen non-starters escaped from her mouth as she grasped for something to say to that. Instead of letting her attempt to defend herself you finished with, “What matters is what you do with that after the fact, and so far I have seen nothing to indicate you have anything worth being proud of.” With that you gave Tony a little tug and he was quick to your side as the two of you turned. But he did offer her a little wave. “Nice seeing you, Joy.” 

The two of you played completely unaffected. Her creepy brother came to her aide, something you saw just out of the corner of your eye, as you and Tony were making your way- finally- to the entrance. He couldn’t help one last hammy action, leaning in to press a dashing kiss to your cheek with a wide smile. You couldn’t help yourself, either, turning the other way to catch him next, raising your left hand to cup his cheek, as you held him there in a brief but full kiss. He found something funny; you knew exactly what. And, as he pulled away, you let him know. “I warned you I’d put her in her place if she tried anything.” 

His chuckles seemed to go straight through you. “Yeah. Someone should’ve warned her.” 

                                                              ---

A crowd of asskissers was immediately imminent as soon as you two made your way inside. It was exactly why Tony pressed another kiss to your hand and then let go. “Can I buy you a drink?” You smiled in an amused and fond way. “Now, you wouldn’t be trying to abandon me so that you don’t have to talk to anybody, would you?” He made such a face of hurt. “I would never.” But as the footsteps drew closer… “I’ll call you over from the bar. Then you can escape, too. It’s a good plan.” 

Leaning up on tiptoe you pressed a kiss to his cheekbone. “Just a glass of wine, please.” 

The usual hemming and hawing came all around you as Tony made a quick exit to the back of the room. For a change, the usual familiars that pretended to care about your life weren’t asking about the next social event they could catch you at- now they were asking for much more intimate details. What is your ring made out of? How much was it worth? When’s the wedding? Where is the wedding? Who will be designing your dress? Do you have an event coordinator yet? Wedding planner? Menu? Bar? It all gave you a headache. All these questions were detached. Completely impersonal despite how they seemed. They were designed for one reason. To ask how much was being spent. As if that was the only mark of love that either Tony or you could impart to each other. Spending money on one another. 

They didn’t want to know when he proposed- or when you had. They didn’t want to know why you’d chosen the design of his ring or how he’d chosen yours. They didn’t want to know how long you’d been in love or if you’d always known you were going to get married. They didn’t care about your relationship with him. They cared about the wealth and the fame. The extravagance that should have been a Stark Wedding. 

...maybe Tony had been right about eloping all along. Maybe you should have gotten married on that beach in Fiji. The world was waiting for the two of you to say your vows. Not because they cared of their contents but because they all wanted to live vicariously through the both of you. And not for the love or the bond that you shared. Just for a window into the supposed life of luxury. Tony turning from the bar with two drinks in hand was all the excuse you needed to walk away. Which was what you did. Literally. No polite excuse me or I have to go to speak to someone you just… left. Let them call you rude later. Start gossiping about you. What did it matter? Appearances only went so far and you had long since cared about what any of these people had to say about you. 

As you met back up with Tony and gratefully took your glass of wine from him, he sipped lightly at his own glass of bourbon and seemed to be watching you. Until, finally, “What did they say now?” Seeming to sense either your upset or just how drained you suddenly were. 

For him you managed a smile. “I was just thinking about how almost seven years ago those exact same people refused to believe when I said we’d come to an event together. And now… all they care about is how much money we’re blowing on a wedding.” The art gala at Basel. A lifetime ago. As most things felt these days, looking back. Some of those exact same people that night, in fact, who had laughed and waved you off, offered to stay with you when Tony left without you- and then tried to flirt with him… Now their tunes had changed but only so much. They were still interested in Tony. And his fortune. Maybe, more importantly, what he was doing with it. 

You were unwisely already half finished with your glass when Tony’s smile caught you off guard. When you looked up at him questioningly, he held out his opposite hand for you. “Can we dance?” 

That’s what you’d asked him that night. In front of all the disbelievers. You’d asked him to whisk you away, not only just to be rid of them but to prove to the world that- yes- Tony Stark loved you of all people. And you loved him. Now, so many years later, you were done doing any sort of proving. You didn’t need to. You didn’t want to. 

You recalled the way he looked at you that night, when you’d asked that. And you also remembered him immediately coming to your rescue when he answered- the same way you were now- “Absolutely.” 

The both of you finished your drinks. Too quick to be anything other than a mistake. But you weren’t really planning on staying long enough for it to matter. And you had him looking out for you anyway. And you for him. 

He escorted you by the hand out to the dance floor where couples were shuffling back and forth, watching people out of the corners of their eyes while a live band played softly. But when the two of you stepped there, when he put his hands at your waist and you laid your arms up along his shoulders and touched your hands along the sides of his neck, they were all watching you. But none of them mattered. All that mattered was the way Tony kept you in time with a gentle sway, the way he was looking at you. Deep, soft brown eyes and loving smile. The way he warmed beneath you. He deserved a little credit. Your hands crept up a little further, touching into the back of his hair as you let the thought out into existence, “The world seems to be waiting for us to throw some big gaudy wedding but… I think maybe you had the right idea all along.” It was dangerous to tell him he was right about anything but…

Ah, what did it matter. Tony knew (and definitely thought) he was right all the time anyway. 

His lips curved more into a quiet smirk but there was a sudden light in his eyes. “Had a change of heart? You wanna go sign some papers tomorrow?” 

“Not tomorrow but… I think I’ll keep putting off planning a wedding. And we’ll just keep being engaged.” Trying to be honest with yourself, and him. 

He gave a little shrug. “Not the worst thing in the world. Not my favorite idea, but. Not the worst.” 

Finally you looped one arm loosely around him, moving the other down to lay against his chest. Over his heart. “It’s not that I don’t want to.” 

“I never suspected that.” 

“It’s just… I don’t know when will be the right time. And… I want everyone to be there. That should be there.” Saying this hurt your heart a little. Thor was gone almost all the time. He’d be happy for the two of you, no doubt. But there was also Bruce. Nobody knew his whereabouts. Still. Was it right to just continue living life when he’d been gone for so long? Surely if he was alright he would have made contact by now, wouldn’t he have? Tony and he were so close… 

A sure blue formed over Tony then, and that smirk disappeared almost instantly. “Yeah.” Said out on a sigh. “Seems like we’re caught in the middle of conflicting ideologies here.” 

Making you realize you both said you may have wanted to just call it quits on a wedding and get married soon and that you wanted to delay until it felt right. Which one was it? It couldn’t be both. “...there’s no rush, right?” Asking him this almost guiltily. 

Something that seemed to sadden him. “Of course not. If I made you feel that way-” 

“You didn’t.” Assuring him of this quickly, not wanting him to take the blame for your messy feelings. 

He stopped moving in time with the music, moving his right hand from your hip so that he could take yours from his chest. Lifting, he pressed a kiss to the back, and then to the side, and then just over your knuckles. “I love you. If you wanted to sign papers tomorrow, we’d go. If you want to wait a few more years to make it official, we will.” Because Tony would do whatever you wanted. 

...but… 

“What do you want?” 

“I want…” He was almost quick into answering this but stopped himself. Seemed like he really wanted to consider this before whipping an answer out. “I want you to be happy.” 

This answer was was both satisfying and yet completely unsatisfying. “I want you to be happy, too.” 

“You being happy makes me happy.” 

This was getting absurd. And when both of you realized that, the smiles and laughter weren’t too far behind. In fact, as his eyes closed with that breathy bout of chuckles, he pressed the rumbling noise against the inside of your palm. It was too much to ask that you didn’t fall apart over him. “I love you, Tony.” 

“I love you.” His answer was immediate and genuine. “It’s a wonder anything gets done around here.” The two of you only just realizing, somehow, that you let a lot (if not all) of your actions be guided by the sense of how it would affect one another. How was it then that you didn’t just circle endlessly? 

“I think we’re doing alright.” 

He leaned in, lips just barely touching yours. “I think so, too.” 

                                                              ---

Another hour slipped by, most of which was filled with one-and-a-half more glasses of wine that was still a mistake and woozy, lovey dancing. You weren’t worried about your consumption of alcohol or what it would do to you because you had Tony with you. But because you had Tony with you, that hour later and some blood alcohol level higher than when you started was pointing you in the direction of home. You wanted to be free from this environment and just be home. With Tony. ...but that wine in your system was also pointing you towards the bathroom. Which would be wise before you got into a car and went back home. So you asked Tony to hold your clutch for you and wait somewhere fairly close. You wouldn’t take long. And you didn’t. ...at least you were sure you hadn’t. Just a quick pee, a reasonable amount of time washing your hands, drying them, getting the little lotions and the… whatever else the bathroom attendant was telling you. The words went in one ear and out the other- and she had a lot of them. It seemed like she just couldn’t stop talking. Politeness eventually ran out and you excused yourself from her presence. Lucky for you your dress had pockets and you were not a fool. Not tipping was one of the worst faux pas one could commit. Especially after running off. 

While you were sure you hadn’t been in there too long, Tony was nowhere to be seen when you emerged. Which was strange. And probably also a red flag. You thought he may have gone back to the bar for a quick drink before the two of you called Happy for an escort home- but he wasn’t there either. ...however. You did spot Ward Meachum there. Joy’s weird older brother. Fawning over two glasses of champagne. He had his back mostly turned. And another second later you wouldn’t have cared why or even paid any attention. Except seconds were running a little long for you- and you saw him half turned away- breaking a capsule open over one of the glasses. It was then your duty to keep an eye on him- to warn whatever poor girl he was about to hand that glass to- whomever he was planning on dragging out of here tonight. Surprise, surprise. That girl was apparently you. 

He headed one way, looking for you, and then turned in your direction, spotting you. For a moment you felt glued in place. He couldn’t be serious, right? Maybe you hadn’t seen that correctly… maybe your vision was just as impaired as your judgment. 

His smile was cold. And his guts were nervous. That told you about all you needed to know. He called your name a few feet before closing the deal. Sticking you in your spot. There against the wall where his figure stood over you. Blocking you from view. “I’ve been looking for you.” 

“I can’t imagine why.” You tried to be careful and calculating, but your brain was a little mushy. Ward had put something in a drink he seemed like he was about to hand off to you- ...no, that couldn’t be, right? He just… he wouldn’t do that- 

“I wanted to apologize for the way my sister acted earlier. She often feels like it’s her against the world, so I hope you didn’t take it too personally.” He was still smiling. You said nothing. Which made him uncomfortable. Maybe it was just the way you were looking at him. “Look- I uh… I know we haven’t spent much time around each other, but I think this whole Danny Rand business is a perfect time to get to know one another.” 

“Why’s that?” 

“Because you seem to be helping him. And I can’t imagine why that is.” He delivered this with such cruelty. Like he had something over you- or at least he soon would. 

“Maybe I believe him.” You tried to draw yourself up tall and strong, straightening out your spine, putting a hand on your hip. 

“So you admit it.” Like he’d caught you in a trap. 

You simply smiled back at him then, something serene. “I’ve done nothing wrong.” 

“Maybe not. But I also think you’re not a fool. So I’m having trouble figuring out how this crazy man off the street duped you. You’re at the top of your game. You’re smart. You’re cunning. Yet you’re wasting money on this sham?” It was obvious what he was doing. Trying to butter you up. 

Regardless of if everything he was saying was true- and it was. Which was exactly why you weren’t falling for this act. 

He took your silence as permission to keep prattling on. “Aren’t you busy? Don’t you have better things to be doing than entertaining psychosis?” 

“And what should I be doing with my time?” 

“Spending it with me-” He finally held out that glass. “-in a purely professional sense, of course. I’m not a fool to get in between you and Stark. But I think it’s long overdue that Stark Industries and Rand Enterprises had a sit down.” 

Ward Meachum was handing you a glass of overly expensive champagne that he’d drugged.

You knew this. You knew this- so you had every defense against it. There was no reason to be frightened of him. But you were. Because he was doing this. In the middle of a party. Where everyone and anyone could see him. He was doing it in a place where Tony was probably not very far away- and if he got caught, he was liable to be murdered. At the very least thrown in jail- 

But he was doing it anyway. Because he had every intention of you swallowing that down and then whisking you off somewhere to do god knew what with you. He felt safe. He thought he could get away with it.

...that thought alone was terrifying. 

It was why, when you stood there. Stuck. Staring at that glass, he smiled again, and tried to press it into your hand. “That’s a glass of 1914 Moët & Chandon. Figured I’d get something expensive to celebrate our potential partnership.”

With a steady hand you reached out to take that glass, and sensed the writhing satisfaction inside of him. Because he was getting away with this. That was at least until you looked away from that glass, finally, and up at him. “If you seriously drugged this champagne, Danny Rand coming back from the dead will be the least of your problems.” Promising him this. Warning him. 

His victory died. Immediately. Instead an icy fright wormed its way through his veins. He quickly took the glass back. “That’s- that’s quite an accusation. I know your other job probably has you paranoid but-” 

“What? You thought you’d just get away with that?” 

“Get away with what?” Tony had finally reappeared, just behind Ward- and of course, an out of breath Joy was in tow. Tony had probably come looking for you when he’d realized he was being bamboozled. Joy had taken him away so that Ward could come get you. 

And- with the safety of Tony there- his protection and… the frightening and mortifying thought that Ward Meachum had had plans to do something with you- you kind of… lost it a little. Your voice raised and your point was just short of frantic. “He just tried to give me drugged champagne.” 

Ward was suddenly sweating. “She’s- I think you need to take her home. She’s had one too many.” 

Tony’s focus was laser sharp. Dark and intense. And… terribly angry. “Give me the glass.” Demanding. Basically laying down the sudden law. Ward seemed like he might actually do it- as if Tony had powers of authority he just couldn’t deny- but Joy shifted around Tony and then bumped into Ward. Shoving him, more like it. He dropped the glass in an act that was entirely see-through. It shattered on the floor. He then held his hand up. “Ah- we’ll have to get someone to clean that up- come on, Joy…” Trying to make a hasty exit. 

The siblings were quick to leave, and Tony stepped forward with a mind to grab Ward. Probably by his collar. Or his throat. But you put your own hand around his arm to stop him. Causing a scene here was probably their plan-B. The problem was, Tony was overwhelmingly furious. And he now had nowhere to put it. “You saw him put something in your drink?” Not asking you because he doubted you. Asking you so that it would give him permission to go after them. And while you didn’t want him to do that- not here, anyway- you nodded. “At the bar. I know I’m a little drunk, but not that drunk. Joy carted you off- and I think they paid off my bathroom attendant, she wouldn’t let me leave.” All in an attempt to isolate you and give Ward enough time to do the deed. 

The serious look Tony wore was not one of your favorites. He then crouched down without another word, shifting his arm forward to reveal his watch from underneath his sleeve. He tapped on the front screen, activating it. It was similar to the one he’d given you- the one meant to be an interim defense mechanism while he was still working on your new Reactor. Two plates shifted out from the face. He then dipped his fingers in the liquid pooled on the floor and touched it against the glass sticking out of the left side. “FRIDAY, give me a full compound analysis.” 

“Yes, boss.” 

People were staring. Tony Stark was practically kneeling on the ballroom floor after Ward and Joy Meachum had run away. With some new shiny gadget activated. What was going on! How exciting! 

FRIDAY was quick. “Assuming you’re not looking for the beverage details, but I’ve found-” A small holographic chart beamed to life. “-muscarine and scopolamine. Enough to be fatal about three hours after consumption.” 

You didn’t know what those two compounds were. You didn’t really need to. The way Tony’s heart felt like it was twisting told you all you needed to know. It wasn’t that he intended to have you drink that glass and dump you in an alley to die. There were three whole hours before that. 

Hours he had probably been planning on filling with- 

“Let’s go.” You put a hand on Tony’s shoulder. The way he was looking at you… he wanted you to give him permission to go after Ward, still. In fact he needed it. But you couldn’t let him do that. “...please.” 

It took him a moment, and it was only through great strength that he ignored his instincts to throttle the man that had intended to drug you. But finally he stood. His hand found yours in a tight hold. “Why would he do that? And why here?” 

“They thought they could get away with it.” That was really the only answer you had. Why else would they? You had threatened their business and propped up a potential king to their throne. They wanted you gone. 

But so did everyone else. So they’d have to get in line. 

                                                              ---

The ride home had been quiet but intense. As soon as you’d gotten upstairs into the penthouse, the two of you had sat down on the foyer couch, still in your evening wear. You’d snuggled up to him, legs underneath you, head on his shoulder, and his arm had come around you all the way so that his fingers could sink into your hair and work against your scalp. Dvahli had not waited long to curl up across both your laps. Tony was the braver of the two of you- or perhaps he was just still unable to process that mountain of anger the right way. He had nowhere to put it. Didn’t know what to do with it. “Let’s put a story out to the press tomorrow.” -...and going with paparazzi buzz was certainly not his style. 

“They’d eat it up, for sure.” If the Starks accused the Meachums of trying to pump you full of date rape drugs, the entire world would be foaming at the mouth for more, more, more. What a sensational story. ...you didn’t want to deal with all that. You weren’t sure you could. Wouldn’t that paint you as an unwitting victim? Wouldn’t it make it seem like that was possible? It shouldn’t have been…  “But. They’re in the middle of a losing battle.” 

The breath out of him was tight. “You have eyes on Rand?” He wasn’t really asking if you’d been following up with what he was doing. He was asking if there’d been any sort of progress. Or if it had panned out the way you wanted it to. “No.” Being truthful. After you’d sent him on his way you’d tried not to involve yourself anymore. 

“Then how do you know that?” This cut you a little, the way he was just short of accusing you. The feeling must have slithered between you because he was quick to correct himself. “It’s not that I don’t believe you- if you say the guy is Danny Rand, then he is. But look at what they just tried to do to you. Think of what they’ll try to do to him.” 

He had an excellent point. As always. “You’re right. But. Danny’s not normal. He’s not going down without a fight.” 

You watched as Tony’s opposite hand waved around while he spoke. “Right. Because he’s been palling around with Lando in Cloud City. I remember.” Tony’s annoyance was now mixed with his overwhelming frustration. He was getting sassy. At you. So you sat away from him, unfortunately disturbing Dvahli who made a sad noise over it. But you looked at him. He looked at you. Dvahli looked between the both of you. Tony broke first with a frown. “I’m sorry. I just… what am I supposed to do?” 

Asking you this earnestly. He’d just been told that the love of his life had been on the end of a scheme meant to drug her and murder her. What was he supposed to do with everything he was feeling? 

Settling again, you turned, putting a hand on Dvahli to comfort her, and then did the same to Tony, holding his face in your other palm. His hand reached up, closing around your wrist. Holding tight to you. “Let’s… think about the alternatives.” 

“Let’s not.” 

“No, let’s do.” Trying to urge him. He quieted when he sensed your resolve. “Let’s pretend we live in a world where I would have been stupid enough to take even a sip of that champagne. I know Joy had been trying to pull you away, but I also know you were waiting for me. I never would have left with him. You would have stopped us. And you would have realized something was wrong with me. Taken me to the labs. Worked on a way to fix me. Like you always do.” 

In this fabricated world where Ward Meachum had gotten away with this, Tony still would have rescued you. You knew this. And you knew he knew it too. This wouldn’t have ended with your shame, your humiliation and degradation and then death. It just wouldn’t have. Because of him. 

...but apparently he wasn’t feeling confident enough to buy into this. “What if I hadn’t?” Fixating on the worst possible outcome. Probably because he couldn’t stop himself. “What if I hadn’t seen you coming out of the bathroom. Or him talking to you. Him taking you away. What then?” 

Then… Then Tony would have been responsible for your death. That’s how he felt. And that feeling was very heavy and terrible. 

“But more than that-” He continued, eyes watching yours. Pleading. “More than these hypotheticals- you want me to sit here when they planned to do that and not do anything about it?” 

You wanted to let them get away with it. That’s what he was implying. Second only to begging to understand why he couldn’t go after them over this. They hadn’t gotten away with it, but they’d still planned to do it. Didn’t that deserve some kind of action? 

Again when you didn’t answer, he spoke. “What if it were me?” 

This was a dirty play. Because only a few days ago you’d told him exactly what you would have done. According to you, you would have scorched the earth for him. And now you were denying him the chance to return that. That wasn’t very fair. And it was eating him up inside. He wanted something. 

...so… 

Leaning forward, you rested your forehead against his. “Please… let’s see how this Danny Rand stuff pans out.” He sucked in a breath to try and argue with you, but you put two fingers against his lips. “And if it doesn’t… you have my permission to drag Ward Meachum to a defunct SHIELD blacksite. And after that I don’t wanna know.” 

Tony was not a murderer. Not like that. But because it was you… who knew the lengths he would go to. This was all talk. So that made it okay. And he needed some feeling of release. This seemed to grant it to him. 

He eased, lips curving into a tired smile against your fingers. When you let your hand away from his face, “Thank you.” Then, now feeling better, he found the strength to joke. “Is it so much to ask that I be able to murder the people who try to hurt my wife?” 

“I guess not- but- I’m also not your wife.” 

“Not yet. It’s been proven that if I bug you enough about something, eventually you’ll give in.” His grin was sweet and handsome. “You’re already thinking about it.” Going to just sign papers, he meant.

Eloping. And he was right. Maybe he really did have it all figured out. “Yeah. Well. I still have some more thinking to do yet.” 

The way he was gazing at you made your heart melt. But it was his calm, quiet yet deep tone that had you yearning for him. “I’ve got time.” 

#Tony Stark #Tony Stark x Reader #INY Chapter Two Hundred #ah holy shit #what