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wifelinkmtg · 8 months

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TUMBLR POST EDITOR WON'T LET ME TITLE THIS POST ANYMORE SO I GUESS THIS IS THE TITLE NOW. WEBBED SITE INNIT

So let's say you grew up in the nineties and that The Lion King was an important movie to you. Let's say that the character of Scar - snarling, ambitious, condescending, effeminate Scar - stirred feelings in you which you had no words for as a child. And then let's say, many years later, you're talking about it with a college friend, and you say something like, "oh man, I think Scar was some sort of gay awakening for me," and she fixes you with this level stare and says, "Scar was a fascist. What's the matter with you?"

The immediate feeling is not unlike missing a step: hang on, what's happening, what did I miss? You knew there were goose-stepping hyenas in "Be Prepared," but you didn't think it mattered that much. He's the bad guy, after all, and the movie's just pointing it out. Your friend says it's more than that: the visuals of the song are directly referencing the Nuremberg rallies. They're practically an homage to Riefenstahl. This was your sexual awakening? Is this why you're so into peaked caps and leather, then? Subliminal nazi kink, perhaps?

And then one of your other friends cuts in. "Hold up," he says, "let's think about what Scar actually did in the movie. He organized a group of racialized outcasts and led them against a predatory monarchy. Why are you so keen to defend their hereditary rule? Scar's the good guy here." The conversation immediately descends into a verbal slap fight about who the real bad guy is, whether Scar's regime was actually responsible for the ecological devastation of the Pride Lands, whether the hyenas actually count as "racialized" because James Earl Jones voiced Mufasa after all. Your Catholic friend starts saying some strange and frankly concerning shit about Natural Law. Someone brings The Lion King 2 into it. You leave the conversation feeling a little bit lost and a little bit anxious. What were we even talking about?

INTRODUCING: THE DITCH

There is a way of reading texts which I'm afraid is pervasive, which has as its most classical expression the smug obsession with trivia and minutiae you find in a certain vein of comic book fan. "Who was the first Green Lantern? What was his weakness? Do you even know the Green Lantern Oath?" It eschews the subjective in favor of definitively knowable fact. You can't argue with this guy that, say, Alan Scott shouldn't really count as the first Green Lantern because his whole deal is so radically different from the Hal Jordan/John Stewart/Guy Gardner Corps-era Lanterns, because this guy will simply say "but he's called Green Lantern. Says so right on the cover. Checkmate." This approach to reading a text is fundamentally 1) emotionally detached (there's a reason the joke goes, oh you like X band? name three of their songs - and not, which of their songs means the most to you? which of them came into your life at exactly the right moment to tell you exactly what you needed to hear just then?) and 2) defensive. It's a stance that is designed not to lose arguments. It says so right on the cover. Checkmate.

And then you get the guys who are like "well obviously Bruce Wayne could do far more as a billionaire to solve societal problems by using his tremendous wealth to address systemic issues instead of dressing up as a bat and punching mental patients in the head," and these guys have half a point but they're basically in the same ditch butting heads with the "well, actually" guys, and can we not simply extricate ourselves from the ditch entirely?

So, okay, let's return to our initial example. Scar is portrayed using Nazi iconography - the goose-stepping, the monumentality, the Nuremberg Lichtdom. He is also flamboyant and effete. He unifies and leads a group of downtrodden exiles to overthrow an absolute monarch. He's also a self-serving despot on whose rule Heaven Itself turns its back. You can't reconcile these things from within the ditch - or if you can, the attempt is likely to be ad-hoc supposition and duct tape.

Instead, let's ask ourselves what perspective The Lion King is coming from. What does it say is true about the world? What are its precepts, its axioms?

There is a natural hierarchical order to the world. This is just and righteous and the way of things, and attempts to overthrow this order will be punished severely by the world itself.

Fascism is what happens when evil men attempt to usurp this natural order with the aid of a group or groups of people who refuse to accept their place in the order.

There exists an alternative to defending and adhering to one's place in the natural order - it consists only of selfish spineless apathy.

Manliness is an essential quality of a just ruler. Unmanliness renders a person unfit for rule, and often resentful and dangerous as well.

And isn't that interesting, laid out like that? It renders the entire argument about the movie irrelevant (except for whatever your Catholic friend was on about, since his understanding of the world seems to line up with the above precepts weirdly well.) It's meaningless to argue about whether Scar was a secret hero or a fascist, when the movie doesn't understand fascism and has a damn-near alien view of what good and evil are.

There's always gonna be someone who, having read this far, wants to reply, "so, what? The Lion King is a bad movie and the people who made it were homophobes and also American monarchists, somehow? And anyone who likes it is also some sort of gay-bashing crypto-authoritarian?" To which I have to reply, man, c'mon, get out of the ditch. You're no good to anyone in there. Take my hand. I'm going to pull on three. One... two...

SO PHYREXIA [PAUSE FOR APPLAUSE, GROANS]

We're talking about everyone's favorite ichor-drooling surgery monsters again because there was a bit in my ~*~seminal~*~ essay Transformation, Horror, Eros, Phyrexia which seemed to give a number of readers quite a bit of trouble: namely, the idea that while Phyrexia is textually fascist, their aesthetic is incompatible with real-world fascism, and further, that this aesthetic incompatibility in some way outweighs the ways in which they act like a fascist nation in terms of how we think of them. I'll take responsibility here: I don't think that point is at all clear or well-argued in that essay. What I was trying to articulate was that the text of Magic: the Gathering very much wants Phyrexia to be supremely evil and dangerous fascists, because that makes for effective antagonists, but in the process of constructing that, it's accidentally encoded a whole bunch of fascinating presuppositions that end up working at cross-purposes with its apparent aim. That's... not that much clearer, is it? Hmm. Why don't I just show you what I mean?

Atraxa, Grand Unifier (art by Marta Nael)

In "Beneath Eyes Unblinking," one of the March of the Machine stories by K. Arsenault Rivera, there's a fascinating and I think revealing passage in which Atraxa (big-deal Phyrexianized angel and Elesh Norn's lieutenant) has a run-in with an art museum in New Capenna. The first thing I want to talk about is that, in this passage, Atraxa has no understanding of the concept of "beauty". A great deal of space in such a rushed storyline is devoted to her trying to puzzle out what beauty means and interrogating the minds of her recently-compleated Capennan aesthetes to try and understand it. In the end, she is unable to conceive of beauty except as "wrongness," as anathema.

So my first question is, why doesn't Atraxa have any idea of beauty? This is nonsense, right? We could point to a previous story, "A Garden of Flesh," by Lora Gray, in which Elesh Norn explicitly thinks in terms of beauty, but that's a little bit ditchbound, isn't it? The better argument is to simply look at Phyrexian bodies, at the Phyrexian landscape, all of which looks the way it does on purpose, all of which has been shaped in accordance with the very real aesthetic preferences of Phyrexians. How you could look at the Fair Basilica and not understand that Phyrexians most definitely have an idea of beauty, even if you personally disagree with it, is baffling. This is a lot like the canonical assertion that Phyrexians lack souls, which is both contradicted elsewhere in canon and essentially meaningless, given Magic's unwillingness or inability to articulate what a soul is in its setting, and as with this, it seems the goal is simply to dehumanize Phyrexians, to render them alien, even at the cost of incoherence or internal contradiction.

Atraxa's progress through the museum is fascinating. It evokes the 1937 Nazi exhibit on "degenerate art" in Munich, but not at all cleanly. The first exhibit, which is of representational art, she angrily destroys for being too individualistic (a point of dissonance with the European fascist movements of the 20th century, which formed in direct antagonism to communism.) The second exhibit, filled with abstract paintings and sculptures, she destroys even more angrily for having no conceivable use (this is much more in line with the Nazi idea of "degenerate art", so well done there.) The third exhibit is filled with war trophies and reconstructions from a failed Phyrexian invasion of Capenna many years prior, which she is angriest of all with (and fair enough, I suppose.) But then, after she's done completely trashing the place, she spots a number of angel statues on the cathedral across the plaza, and she goes apeshit. In a fugue of white-hot rage, she pulverizes the angel heads, and here is where I have to ask my second question:

Why angels? If you are trying to invoke fascist attitudes toward art, big statues of angels are precisely the wrong thing for your fascist analogues to hate. Fascists love monumental, heroic representations of superhuman perfection. It's practically their whole aesthetic deal. I understand that we're foreshadowing the imminent defeat of Phyrexia at the hands of legions of angels and a multiversal proliferation of angel juice, but that just leads to the exact same question: why angels? To the best of my knowledge, the Phyrexian weakness to New Capennan angel juice is something invented for this storyline. They have, after all, been happily compleating angels since 1997. We could talk about the in-universe justification for why Halo specifically is so potent, but I don't remember what that justification is, and also don't care. Let's not jump back in the ditch, please. The point is, someone decided that this time, Phyrexia would be defeated by an angelic host, and what does that mean? What is the text trying to say? What are its precepts and axioms?

Let me ask you a question: how many physically disabled angels are there in Magic: the Gathering? How about transsexual angels? How many angels are there, on all of the cards that have ever been printed for Magic: the Gathering, that are even just a bit ugly? Do you get it yet? Or do you need me to spell it out for you?

SPELLING IT OUT FOR YOU

There is a kind of body which is bad. It is bad because it has been significantly altered from its natural state, and it is bad because it is repellent to our aesthetic sensibilities.

The bad kind of body is contagious. It spreads through contact. Sometimes people we love are infected, and then they become the bad kind of body too.

There is a kind of body which is good. It is good because it is pleasing to our aesthetic sensibilities, and it is good because it is unaltered from its (super)natural state.

A happy ending is when all the good bodies destroy or drive into hiding all of the bad bodies. A happy ending is when the bad bodies of the people we love are forcibly returned to being the good kind of body.

Do you get it now?

ENDNOTES

It's worth noting that the ditch is very similar to the white American Evangelical hermeneutics of "the Bible says it. I believe it. That settles it," the defensive chapter-and-verse-or-it-didn't-happen approach to reading a text, what Fred Clark of slacktivist calls "concordance-ism". I don't think that's accidental. We stand underneath centuries of people reading the Bible very poorly - how could that not affect how we read things today? We are participants in history whether we like it or not.

I sincerely hope I haven't come across as condescending in this essay. Close reading is legitimately difficult! They teach college courses on this stuff! And while it is frustrating to have my close readings interrogated by people who... aren't doing that, like. I do get it. I find myself back in the ditch all the time. This stuff is hard. It is also, sorry, crucial if you intend to say something about a text that's worth saying.

I also hope I've communicated clearly here. Magic story is sufficiently incoherent that trying to develop a thesis about it often feels like trying to nail jello to the wall. If anyone has questions, please ask them! And thank you for reading. Next time, we'll probably do the new Eldraine set.

#phyrexia #not defining the ditch except by implication #thanks to all the very smart vorthoi on the flavor text discord server for helping me work through my thoughts on fascism and phyrexia #this is technically the march of the machine review also #or as much of one as i care to do

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incorrectbatfam · 5 months

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Supersons with the Justice League. How will it go?

Oliver: How are you liking it here?

Damian: We don't.

Jon: It's so boring. There's nothing to do.

Oliver: Well, don't tell Bats I told you, but he keeps some extra of his butler's cookies in the break room.

———————

Jon: Look, it's Atom!

Damian: I imagined him taller.

Ray: Superman, Batman, were you playing with my shrinking tech?

Jon, whispering to Damian: Let's play along so we don't hurt his feelings.

Jon: Whoops, I guess we were. Sorry.

Ray, internally: They're playing along! I'm gonna get a good grade in uncle, something that's normal to want and possible to achieve.

———————

Dinah: Why are you outside my dressing room?

Jon: You're a really good singer.

Damian: I can get you in contact with an agent.

Dinah: Thanks, but I already have one.

Damian, handing her a business card: Let me rephrase that. I can get you in contact with a BETTER agent.

Dinah: ...You have my attention.

———————

Jon: So can you construct anything you want?

Hal: As long as I have the willpower and imagination.

Damian: What about these?

Damian: *shows him their Cheese Viking OCs*

[five minutes later]

Jon: Eat cheddar!

Damian: You are no match against my almighty parmesan blade.

Hal: Note to self: talk to Carol about kids.

———————

Jon: Race you down the hall!

Damian: Last one there has to pay for lunch.

Barry: You're on.

Damian and Jon: *zoom off*

Barry: *walks at human speed*

———————

[at lunch]

Damian: Is this vegetarian?

Zatanna: Nairategev ti ekam.

Zatanna: It is now.

Jon: While you're at it, can you please make these nuggets dino-shaped?

———————

Damian: Thank you for the gingerbread craft supplies. We have created something for you in return.

Jon: *shows him a gingerbread Atlantis*

Arthur: *chokes up remembering his son would've been as old as them*

Arthur: I shall make sure my whole kingdom sees this.

———————

Damian: So we have Jon, Jon, and J'onn. This is why I call people by last name.

Jon Kent: We can start a club!

J'onn: That sounds a little childi—

Jon Stewart, elbowing J'onn: Sure!

Jon Stewart, whispering to J'onn: Don't you dare crush the kid's dreams.

———————

Diana: *happily ruffling their hair*

Damian: *scowling*

Jon: *smiling*

———————

Bruce: Thank you all for watching my son.

Clark: Mine too.

The Justice League:

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celaenaeiln · 7 months

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I want to talk about Dick Grayson's beauty, sex symbol status, and how it all connects for a moment.

This is a prelude to an upcoming post but I needed to include this separately because the other was getting too big.

First of all Dick Grayson is a beautiful man.

And you're probably thinking "well, no duh. Everyone knows that." but what I mean is Dick Grayson was intentionally made to be beautiful.

For a little historical context, around the late 1950s the culture in the US was changing. It was around this time, that people began exploring and accepting what they called a "feminine man".

This was really taking place in cinema and stuff where they began to show softer versions of men doing "typically female roles" as heroes.

One example is the movie "The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance", a 1962 Hollywood film. In summary, it takes place in the midwest and is centered about Cowboys, gunslingers, the shebang. But the point is, there are two male leads in the movie - Ranse Stoddard (played by Jimmy Stewart) and Tom Donophon (played by John Wayne). Ranse and Tom are both the heroes in the film but with a key difference. Tom is like the sheriff of the town, loved by all and focusing his time on practicing his gun skills. The savior of women and normal people, he's the typical masculine hero. His face is rough and handsome. Ranse however was the new wave. He doesn't care about carrying the gun, he thinks it's uncouth and focuses much of his attention on sending the evil guy (Liberty Valance) to jail through laws. He doesn't want to kill and he takes a more advocative approach. He is also loved by everyone despite not being super masculine. Ranse's face is clean and almost dainty in comparison to Tom and Liberty Valance's.

Despite the complete opposites they are, both men are considered heroes. On one hand, you have the very male typical hero but on the other hand, you have the feminine male hero. At one point the evil guy laughs when Ranse walks in wearing an apron because serving tables is a "woman's job", but Ranse doesn't let it bother him.

How does this connect to Dick Grayson?

Dick Grayson is the feminine hero of DC. DC jumped on the pretty boy hero train.

That's also why in the Teen Titans (1966) comics, Dick keeps being referred to by endearingly feminine pet names by the titans which they seem to only use on him.

Standard gender roles: Men were expected to be strong, aggressive, and bold while women were expected to be polite, accommodating, and nurturing. Sound familiar about a certain duo?

But Dick? He plays both male and female gender roles in a time period where it wasn't socially acceptable to do so.

So my point is, Dick was created to blur the lines between gender and the way his character has progressed - he's meant to be the definition of a man opposite to male toxicity.

He can cook and do laundry whereas Bruce, the image of male dominance cannot.

This also falls into another role of Bruce and Dick's but it applies here as well in hindsight.

One thing people need to understand is that Dick was created to be the antithesis of Bruce Wayne. For all the gloominess that Bruce is Dick was meant to be the joy. He is the light to Bruce's darkness.

Which is why Dick often acts as the loving mother to the batfamily while Bruce acts as the stern father. Because Dick was created for the female role.

Part of the reason why I love Dick and Kory is because they do this at a time where girlbossing and malewifing wasn't a thing. Kori is consistently the dominant one when it comes to love in their relationship while Dick plays a softer, more "wife like" role. The way Kori is taller than Dick and buffer than him ✨

He is quite literally a queen consort - that is the role that Kori begs him to take after she is forced to marry someone her father picks out for her. But Dick refuses in tears because his morality cannot bear becoming a mistress and ruining someone else's marriage.

I know this is a long tangent but here's where the sex symbol comes in. Dick was created to be the most beautiful figure in DC but him being beautiful is not supposed to be confused with him being objectified.

Being beautiful is just something he was born as. What people do as a result has nothing to with DC

Take this for instance

He's literally just showering and comes out of the shower to find a random little girl singing about his and batman's identities. Creepy? Yes. Very much so. So he chases after her and finds her gone. Well there's nothing he can do now, he needs to go back and analyze what's going on and contact the other titans-

Crap.

Look at all the women that are ogling him, and even the ginger looks as if he doesn't know if he's jealous or wants to join - but there's nothing Dick did to make them do that. He's literally minding his own business and got caught outside. Did he hit on the women? Did he seduce them? Did he purposefully show off and make a loud commotion because he wanted the attention? No!

Arguing that Dick Grayson shouldn't be a sex symbol just seems wrong to me considering that it's not a fault of his.

It's like telling Kori not to have large breasts and telling Dinah not to wear fishnets.

People still ogle them regardless of how they dress because they're just that attractive. You can't tell someone to look a different way because you don't like the attention they're receiving...that's literally the opposite of everything people should be fighting for

Arguing that Dick Grayson being a sex symbol is a problem because he's too beautiful and blaming the actions of other characters for thinking so is just...

it's wrong.

He was created to be beautiful to fight male toxic masculinity. He's woman coded for a reason.

We should be embracing him. He represents everything male freedom should be about. He constantly placed in a female role, in female positions-

In queer positions-

He's acrobatic, slender, and sensual. He's gentle, loving, and beautiful.

When has the beauty of a person ever been a reflection of their character? The way fandom is going, it's implying that because female characters make sexualized comments about Dick's body, it's somehow Dick's fault for looking that way. We're blaming him for his "womanizing" ways as if he hasn't put his heart and soul into every relationship he's had. And while we're busy calling him a womanizer, we conveniently forget that the women he's in relationships with have significant personalities of their own. We inadvertently reduce their beings to plastic bags, ignoring that they have broken up with each other because of being unable to resolve conflicting beliefs, different career paths, different lifestyles, and more. It's not a one way road with our treatment of Dick. It's a two way street because we're harming both Dick and strong women like Kori, Barbara, Bea, Shawn, and Helena by pretending what they believe in and live for is unimportant in love.

Instead we should be exploring how the objectification might have an impact on Dick's mental health rather than blaming DC for using characters to describe how hot Dick is.

All the beautiful traits of Dick Grayson - his ambiguous sexuality, his overwhelming love for people, his affection for his friends, the way he cries and feels for others - all of it is beautiful, is it not?

From his very creation Dick was meant to be someone who breaks gender roles. The constant attraction he receives from both men and women in all of DC's media is evidence of that. The Grayson comics push the boundaries of his sexuality as much as DC will allow. To be queer without coming out with it. He is the feminine hero.

Everyone seems to hate that he's being called a sex symbol but why does that bother you? Dick Grayson IS the pretty girl of the comic universe. He IS the babygirl of DC.

DC has created the perfect view of what it's like to be a woman through Dick Grayson and we're spitting on the most accurate representation of a female that comics have ever created by blaming them for expressing what it's like to live as a woman.

#dick grayson #nightwing #I would love to hear people's thoughts on this bc I genuinely don't get the problem with him being portrayed as hot #bruce wayne #batman #dickkori #my thoughts on the sex symbol thing #prelude to my next post #koriand'r

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teaboot · 2 months

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Different actors and artists I mistakenly thought were the same person for a really long time:

Adam Sandler and Ben Stiller (? Tall face dad man? Comedy. Brown hair blue eyes. Early 2000's Blockbuster Video regulars.)

Kiera Knightly and Natalie Portman (Scary and pretty like an android that would eject me from the space shuttle)

Kiera Knightly and Kristen Stewart (K-names, queer kid kryptonite, pretty)

Justin Timberlake and Orlando Bloom (Pretty face white man, teens love him)

Ryan Reynolds and Paul Rudd (Thin face brown hair white guy? Comedy? Superhero with red suit. Immature dad vibes. "Pull my finger" type energy)

Celine Dion and Shakira (Pretty and tall multilingual blonde singers?)

Michelle Pfeifer and Uma Thurman (Odd name? Blonde? 2010 era songs about them)

Gene Wilder and Mike Myers (Cannot explain)

Individual actors I always thought were two different actors:

Lucy Liu in "Kill Bill" and Lucy Liu in everything else (I keep thinking Kill Bill came out in the early 70's and Lucy Liu does NOT look older than my mom)

Natalie Dormer (Though she was a bunch of different blonde women who looked alike but it's just her)

Actors and artists who I cannot recall ever seeing in my life, whose appearances I make up in my head whenever people talk about them:

Uma Thurman (Blonde? Very pretty. Red lipstick. Like Marilyn Monroe but a sharper chin.)

Stevie Wonder (A handsome Black gentleman in his late forties. Always in a tuxedo.)

Gilbert Godfrey (Peewee Herman??)

Celebrities I can picture in my mind with absolute photographic clarity:

Mike Tyson

Doug Jones

Miss Piggy

Public figures whose names I've heard of through pop culture osmosis but retained zero information about:

Roger Whittaker

Grace Earl Jones

Casey Anthony (??? A person??)

Akon

Greta Herwig (I think that's a person)

Tony Montana (Fictional???)

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bbytamaki · 1 year

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more random obey me headcanons >:)

content: sfw headcanons, scars mentioned (from piercings), belphie has depression, all family love <3, not proofread >:((

note: i haven’t done any dateable hcs yet :(( might do some soon

— lucifer can’t stand bananas. it’s just a thing. even the smell will have him pressing his handkerchief over his mouth like a sick victorian man. does satan use this to his advantage? possibly.

— has very feminine hands. he covers them with gloves so he doesn’t have to hear asmo’s jealous whining. if anyone brings it up he’s not above strangling them with his dainty, girlish fingers.

— flexible. like shockingly. it doesn’t really come to light that often but every once in a while lucifer follows single mom yoga videos on the weekends.

— mammon has the prettiest facial features ever. like his eyes and lips look so good in candid photos. his magazine covers are the bane of asmo’s existence.

— bird tendencies. like i mean squawking and jumping like 3 feet in the air when startled. in his demon form he’s just a big parrot. he does the head tilt thing when he’s confused.

— if anyone stands in front of him for longer than a minute he’s picking lint out of their hair and fixing their clothes. his brothers have gotten more than used to his “preening” and either avoid standing around him for too long or just take it. lucifer does this too and sometimes they’ll just stand and fix each other’s clothes for like 5 minutes straight while everyone else is like “???”

— levi is tall. very tall. he’s just so scrawny and lanky and his posture is awful so you wouldn’t even notice until he actually straightens up to his full height. this rarely ever happens unless he’s in his demon form. when it does he is scary.

— cosplays online. his cosplay friends are some of his favorite people. he already sews his own costumes (as we’ve seen), and he’s really good at makeup. one of his future plans is to meet up in the human world to go to a con with his friends.

— screams like a little girl. one time mammon accidentally walked into the bathroom when levi was showering and he shrieked. lucifer ran to see what the commotion was because “how did a human child find their way into the devildom??” levi has never felt more embarrassed.

— satan watches trashy reality tv in his private time. bad girls club, keeping up with the kardashians, you name it.

— can sing the whole periodic table song by tom lehrer forward and backward. i think satan is actual really good at science and it would be his best and favorite subject.

— he just likes animals in general. he has a thing for bunnies after visiting a human world petting zoo.

— asmo has an abnormally long tongue, like surpassing attractive and approaching freakish. he usually keeps it in his mouth but once every so often decides to creep solomon out just for fun.

— has soooo many stripper friends. if you’re wondering how his hair and makeup stay in place the whole day, he learned from the best.

— he definitely designed an entire line of lingerie but only made one of each design. they’re ultra rare collectibles in the devildom and worth more than you could imagine.

— beel can french braid and make friendship bracelets like he’s going to a girl scout camp. nobody can tell me he didn’t hand make the necklaces he wears.

— speaking of martha stewart beel, he can crochet and makes blankets and cute plushies for belphie all the time.

— luke is actually his little brother and no one can convince him otherwise lol they go back and forth over nothing all the time and stop talking to each other until one of them says “what do you want for dinner”

— belphie is the king of doing his own piercings at home because why pay $50 for something he already knows how to do? he ends up taking some of them out before they heal because he gets tired of them and ends up with a bunch of scars on his face and body.

— you and beel are his dream journal. he texts the attic club gc after every nap to tell you guys what his latest dream was about. (you’re the two people that show up in his dreams the most.)

— goes absolutely dormant during depressive episodes. the complete opposite of his twin brother (beel has to keep busy at all times to stay distracted). asmo carries him to his private bathroom and lets belphie pick his favorite soaps and lotions (he likes the ones that smell like sandalwood, they remind him of taking naps in his brothers’ rooms).

#obey me #obey me x you #obey me x mc #obey me x reader #obey me headcanons #obey me shall we date #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor

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hockeyshmockey · 6 months

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Charles Leclerc SMAU

summary: in which charles and lewis' best friend are anything but discreet. charles leclerc x yn

warnings: none!!

liked by lewishamilton, susiewolff and 52,293 others

Yourusername my king roscoe Nicholas Stewart Hamilton 🥹

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Lewishamilton stop giving him middle names??

carmenmundt you. in the paddock. with roscoe. when?

yourusername after summer break I promise!

user oh to be yn

georgerussel you don’t need to come to the paddock really

Yourusername awwww scared I’ll steal your girl?

carmenmundt there’s no competition, she wins babe, sorry

liked by charlesleclerc

liked by mickschumacher, f1gridgossip and 58,293 others

yourusername it’s hard work being an icon and a legend

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landonorris so true, just ask roscoe!

yourusername ok fair

charlesleclerc true

user nah what is Charles doing here, this one isn’t friends with his ex

lewishamilton please come back to the garage, you took my dog?

yourusername I think you’re the only one who hasn’t realized we co parent at this point

twitter

forzaferrari

No bc why is Charles hanging w Lewis and roscoe recently?

leclercStan

I’m calling it now he’s with yn

lh44

That’s a reach my guy

Forzaferrari

no wait bc why does that kind of add up????

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location Monaco

yourusername smize!

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Carla.brocker so stunning!

user hmmmmmm

arthurleclerc you may be my new favorite partner in crime

charlesleclerc nice photo!

user lmao Charles you can be a little more dry

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charlesleclerc a good time had by all but now it’s back to racing

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yourusername life alert

yourusername I’ve fallen and I can’t get up

user nah bc yn is so real for that

arthurleclerc put on some clothes

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F1gridgossip sent in! A fan spotted Mr Charles leclerc in Monaco today walking with his arm around a mystery blonde. This follows reports that a blonde also spent the day on his yacht with his family over the break. Could he be off the market once more?

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user tell me that’s not yn

user gotta be her!!!

user I swear I saw her walking roscoe and meeting up with a familiar looking brunette

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yourusername like will smith said: keep my wife’s name out your mouth!

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Lewishamilton I really don’t know what you were trying to do here

user gurrlllll

charlesleclerc bebe🫶🏻

Yourusername I was going for mysterious but okay then

#f1 #formula one imagine #formula one #f1 imagine #f1 driver #f1 driver imagine #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 driver #imagine #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc fluff #instagram edit #instagram #smau

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hotvintagepoll · 4 months

Note

i found this blog by accident (i think the tumblr recommendations code or whatever figured out i have a polls addiction) and have had zero interest and experience in this topic but now. now i am so here. but i was wondering where i could go to watch movies with all these actors?? like i’m sure prime video or smthg might have a few classics hanging around but is there a service/website (of any legality) that specialises in vintage films and stuff? or is it really just physical media to get a lot of them? sry if this throws off your askbox, i didn’t know where else to ask! tyia <3

Hi!! I love this ask. Thanks for being here!

I don't know of any service that specializes in old movies, though HBO had a deal with TCM for a while that meant they had several classics on Max—I don't know if that's still a thing. In the meantime, though, the following websites all have "classic" channels that will be filled with great vintage movies to try:

Tubi—free streaming service that includes:

The Manchurian Candidate (Frank Sinatra, James Edwards)

The Philadelphia Story (James Stewart, Cary Grant)

Chitty Chitty Bang Bang (Dick Van Dyke)

On The Town (Gene Kelly, Frank Sinatra)

House on Haunted Hill (Vincent Price)

The Adventures of Robin Hood (Errol Flynn, Basil Rathbone)

A Streetcar Named Desire (Marlon Brando)

The Maltese Falcon (Humphrey Bogart)

Hoopla—free through many libraries:

The Court Jester (Danny Kaye, Basil Rathbone)

War and Peace (Jeremy Brett)

Barefoot in the Park (Robert Redford)

Cabin in the Sky (Rex Ingram)

Wings (Gary Cooper)

Kanopy—free through many libraries:

The General (Buster Keaton)

Flower Drum Song (James Shigeta)

Roman Holiday (Gregory Peck)

Seven Samurai (Toshiro Mifune)

His Girl Friday (Cary Grant)

Wuthering Heights (Laurence Olivier)

Sabrina (Humphrey Bogart)

Paris Blues (Sidney Poitier, Paul Newman)

Cabinet of Dr. Caligari (Conrad Veidt)

Youtube also has TONS of movies that have slipped through copyright or "accidentally" ended up there:

Charade (Cary Grant)

The Gay Divorcee (Fred Astaire)

Lying Lips (Carman Newsome, Robert Earl Jones, Oscar Micheaux)

Stormy Weather (Harold Nicholas)

Rebecca (Laurence Olivier)

The Cheat (Sessue Hayakawa)

The Lady Vanishes (Michael Redgrave)

Jungle Book (Sabu Dastagir)

To Sir, With Love (Sidney Poitier)

It's a Mad Mad Mad Mad World (Peter Falk)

What a Way to Go! (Dick Van Dyke, Gene Kelly, Paul Newman)

And of course there are methods of other legality if you want to go searching for titles by hand :)

I haven't seen all of the movies I list here—this is just a sampling of some famous ones, and a few of my secret faves—so be careful if you have trigger warnings and things. Hope you find some great movies!

#:D #i went a bit insane there. but you see. hot men!#if i had to pick one i'd say tubi has the best rotating selection?#anyway good luck anon!#asks

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sourcherryandsprinkles · 4 months

Text

You can call me babe...not just for the weekend | Conrad Fisher x Reader

Advent calendar day seven: Tis the damn season

Summary: You and Conrad explore a road you never did before when come back to your hometown for the holidays

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

Bundled in your warm coat and scarf, you walked down the streets of Boston with a cup of hot coffee in your right hand, looking for last minute presents while drinking in the feeling of home. Around you, the shops were adorned with twinkling holiday lights, painting a very different picture than in Los Angeles’s December. Especially with the light layers of snow all over the city.

Although you loved living in Los Angeles, there was nothing better than a snow-y Christmas.

You missed it the past two years.

The faint scent of fresh fir and pine coming from the Christmas tree market at the end of the street brought a nostalgic smile to your lips. When you were little, your dad would let you pick a tree — which was always way too big for the living room.

You entered the bookshop, browsing around for a possible novel to read during your vacation when your eyes caught a familiar face between the aisles.

‘’Conrad?’’

Hearing his name, the brunet lifted his gaze. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing. You. In Boston.

‘’Hi,’’ he said, completely struck.

You walked over to him, pausing your shopping, and Conrad put down the book he was holding.

‘’I haven’t seen you in a while. It’s good to see you.’’

He had changed — grown — since you last saw him. His hair was a bit longer at the back and his jawline was sharper, but he still had that navy sweater he wore to every Christmas party at school. It has reindeers and snowflakes on it.

‘’I just got here last night,’’ he explained, giving you a small smile that fell soon after, as if regretting it. ‘’I didn't know you were coming this Christmas.’’

‘’I was beginning to miss the snow,’’ you said, then took a sip of your coffee. ‘’How’s your mom?’’

Conrad was relieved for a conversation shifter. ‘’She’s great.’’ He smiled again. ‘’We’re hosting a massive Christmas dinner this year and, you know her, she went all out. She turned our house into a place that looks like it came straight from a cheesy Hallmark holiday movie.’’

A chuckle spilled from your lips. Susannah always loved holidays — 4th of July, Thanksgiving, Christmas. She tended to go a bit overboard with the decorations, but she always prepared the most delicious feasts for her guests. Although she was no Martha Stewart, her dinner table was one for the magazines.

‘’Did your dad put the big star at the top of the house? I couldn’t see it from my window last night.’’

‘’Eh, no.. He didn’t…’’ You could sense that Conrad was holding something back, something he didn’t know how to tell you. ‘’Dad moved out last summer. He…’’ There was a short pause before he spilled the truth, having never said it out loud before. ‘’He cheated on my mom.’’

Your stomach sank and your heart ached for Susannah. You never would have taken Mr. Fisher for a cheater, but you can never really know someone.

‘’I’m sorry.’’

‘’Why for? You’re not the one who had an affair with his secretary,’’ Conrad said, clearly still pissed about the situation and resenting his dad. Getting a silence from you, Conrad took back his words. ‘’I should not have said that…’’

You shook your head. ‘’It’s okay,’’ you assured him. ‘’Is Jeremiah coming for the holidays? He’s in college now, right?’’

‘’Yeah. Him and Belly both go to Finch, so they are driving together tonight. Steven should get here tomorrow.’’

Steven. You hadn’t heard of him in a while. The last time you spoke to him was to congratulate him for getting into Princeton. The big news was the reason why you had changed his name for Princeton boy on your phone. It was a nod to one of your favorite movies — A Cinderella story.

A smile drew on your lips. ‘’Seems like everyone is back in town this year.’’

‘’Like the old days,’’ Conrad confirmed, his smile tighter than yours.

⁂

The second time you ran into one of the Fisher brothers, you were getting lunch by yourself at your old favorite café and typing a few lines for your next novel. Christmas chaos had started at home and writing was impossible with your mother’s holiday music blasting while she was working on tomorrow’s dinner.

You heard him before you saw him.

‘’Oh my god, am I seeing right?’’

You raised your head, recognizing the dark blond curls spilling from under his hat that just entered the café. He skipped the counter and went straight for your table, pulling you in for a hug.

‘’I can’t believe you’re here! It’s been so long,’’ Jeremiah said, his smile so big you would think he had won a trip to Cabo.

You talked for a few minutes, catching up on small things, but he unfortunately couldn’t stay long as he was meeting with Belly to go Christmas shopping. You wished them good luck, the shopping malls likely chaotic forty-eight hours before Christmas.

‘’Before I go, there’s a huge New Year party at Este’ house next week,’’ Jeremiah informed, fixing his jacket and grabbing his coffee from the table. ‘’Everyone is gonna be there. You should come.’’

It was kind of him to invite you, but you were hesitant.

‘’I haven’t spoken to anyone since moving across the country, I doubt they’ll want me there…’’

Jeremiah tilted his head, giving you a look. ‘’Don’t say that. I’m sure someone will be interested in hearing about all of your celebrity friends. If you tell anyone you’ve met Ariana Grande in a restaurant, they’ll want to be best friends.’’

You shook your head. Of course he would mention Ariana Grande. The two of you used to sing her music in the car and have midnight release parties every time a new album came out.

‘’I don’t have any celebrity friends to gossip about. And if I did, I would be a bad friend for gossiping about them at a party in my hometown.’’

⁂

A Hallmark holiday rom-com was playing on TV when you received a text from Conrad. His contact picture was a selfie of you and him at the beach in Cousins. You visited him for the 4th of July the summer before you parted ways to different colleges.

From Conrad: Do you want to drive around and look at Christmas lights together?

A smile drew across your face. It was an old tradition from when you were kids. The two of you would walk around the neighborhood on the first night of Christmas break and look at all the decorated houses. You always looked forward to that special night. Then, when Conrad got his license, you broadened your itinerary to other neighborhoods and added hot chocolates and stolen holiday desserts from your respective houses to the tradition.

You didn’t bother changing out of your pajamas, adding a sweater over your shirt and slipping on your boots before heading out.

‘’Where’s your coat?’’ Conrad asked when you opened the passenger door and got in.

‘’We’re staying in the car, I don’t need it,’’ you replied, closing the door and pulling your seatbelt.

Conrad sighed and turned the heater higher.

‘’I’m gonna be honest, I was surprised to get a text from you. I got the impression that you weren't as pleased to see me as I was yesterday.’’

‘’No. It wasn’t that,’’ he assured, taking his eyes off the road to look at you briefly. ‘’To me, it was unlikely that you would come to Boston again since your life is in Los Angeles now. I was just shocked to see you in town.’’

A teasing smile curled on your face. ‘’Aw, you were starstruck by me?’’

‘’I didn't say starstruck…’’ Conrad protested, shaking his head as you twisted his words around.

The conversation was quickly dropped, something massive and green catching your attention on your side of the street. ‘’Oh, look on my left, they dressed up their 50 feet skeleton in a Grinch costume!’’

⁂

‘’What are you doing here?’’ your mother asked, her arms crossed as swatched you in the kitchen making yourself a cup of tea on New Year’s eve, eyeing you with a mixture of disbelief and surprise.

You gave her a confused look, a teaspoon in one hand and a teabag dangling from the other. ‘’I’m on vacation… Mom, did you have too much eggnog or something?’’

‘’I mean, what are you doing at home on New Year’s eve? Don’t you have a party to go to? I’m sure your old friends missed you.’’

Letting out a sigh, you resumed preparing your tea, pouring hot water into the cup. ‘’Jeremiah invited me, but I don’t think I’m gonna be going. We can watch Ryan Seacrest’s Rockin New Year together—’’

Your mother leaned against the kitchen counter, a faint frown on her face. ‘’You should go. No twenty-year-old should stay at home on New Year’s eve,’’ she insisted, glancing at the clock on the wall. ‘’Is Conrad gonna be there?’’

You shrugged, stirring the tea. ‘’I don’t know.’’

She pointed at your cup. ‘’Give me that tea and get ready for that party.’’

⁂

Leave it to you to be overdressed at a small town New Year party. Since moving to Los Angeles, you had to level up to their standards of fashion, but now you were sticking out like a sore thumb in this suburban crowd.

You walked further into the house, trying to find familiar faces, but you didn’t recognize half of them. They must have recognized you by the sour look they gave you. You couldn’t tell if it was because of your dress or because they didn’t like that you were at the party. You tried to ignore them. There was a reason you left town and it wasn’t only for bigger career opportunities.

‘’Happy new year!’’ Belly greeted over the loud music, grinning excitedly with a red cup in her hand and a pair of ‘2024’ gold glasses on her face. She pulled you in a hug, giving you a better welcome than your old classmates. She held you at arm’s length, looking you up and down. ‘’Wow, that dress looks so good. It’s like a mirrorball.’’

You smiled and thanked her for the compliment. ‘’You don’t think it’s too much?’’

She shook her head. ‘’It’s better to be overdressed than underdressed,’’ she assured you, quoting Susannah. ‘’Come. Steven has been talking about you non-stop since Jeremiah told him you were in town and coming to the party.’’ Belly gave the boys a glance on the other side of the room, both talking by the windows, then pulled you through the sea of people.

‘’There she is,’’ Steven exclaimed when seeing you approach, being the last of the group to see you.

You pulled him in a short hug. ‘’Hey, Steven.’’

Seeing your empty hands, Jeremiah offered to get you a drink. He enumerated the small selection available in Este’s kitchen, but your attention was drawn away when you caught Conrad sitting with a couple of friends on the couches with a beer in hand. Your eyes lingered on him more than necessary. You couldn’t help it, he looked so handsome in a button up and sweater.

‘’So, which one is going to be?’’ Jeremiah said, still waiting for your choice of drink.

As the night went on, you lost sight of him. You and Belly laughed while the boys did karaoke, duetting musicals and acing every song. Parties in Los Angeles were not as laid back. Everyone would have booed if someone had pulled out the karaoke machine.

Steven was in the middle of an impressive solo when you caught Conrad heading outside to the balcony. You glanced at your friends, then back at the sliding door, and excused yourself to the bathroom. You came to the party in hopes to see him, you couldn’t not talk to him.

As you stepped onto the balcony, the cool night air enveloped you, causing goosebumps to rise on your barely covered skin. Even with tights, that dress was not approved for the winter chill. Trying to ignore the high chances of catching a cold, you walked up to Conrad, who was leaning against the railing, gazing at the illuminated neighborhood by himself.

‘’I’ve been looking for you,’’ you said, your voice breaking the silence.

‘’Me?’’

You hummed, joining him in his gazing. ‘’Aren't you cold out here?’’

‘’No, not really.’’ He shifted his eyes to you, noticing the absence of a coat over your shoulders. ‘’You sure are cold.’’

You chuckled, rubbing your arms in a futile attempt to generate warmth. ‘’Maybe a little.’’

Without asking, Conrad pulled you closer, wrapping a comforting arm around your shoulders. ‘’Better?’’

You leaned into his side, a smile gracing your lips as the woodsy undertones of his cologne enveloped your senses with every breath. ‘’Better.’’

‘’How was your Christmas?’’ he asked.

‘’Great.’’ Your answer came across as cold, but it wasn’t intentional. ‘’Did Susannah make you wear matching Christmas sweaters again?’’

Conrad groaned, confirming that she did. ‘’She got us matching pajama bottoms too, this year. It’s horrendous.’’

‘’I’m sure you looked cute— that it was cute,’’ you quickly corrected.

‘’I assure you, it was not,’’ Conrad denied, shaking his head at the memories. ‘’Mom put reindeer ears on Jeremiah’s head for the family portrait and I had a Santa hat.’’

You could totally imagine Conrad in a Santa hat and Christmas pajamas.

‘’Conrad?’’ He hummed, waiting for you to continue. ‘’Do you ever think of us? The ‘us’ before I moved to California?’’

The two of you were very close since third grade, but once you moved to California, you got radio silence from Conrad. No texts. No phone calls. Nothing.

‘’What do you mean?’’

You distanced yourself from him, preferring to be cold rather than close to someone who was playing fool. ‘’You know what I mean.’’

‘’You’re going back to L.A. in a couple of days. It doesn’t matter…’’

‘’It does!’’ you finally said, a mix of emotions coating your voice. ‘’I miss us. I miss us everyday, and after these past days, I don’t think I can go back to not speaking to you. I’m asking you one last time, Conrad, if you miss us too, please say it so we can stop acting like stupid teenagers and face what this is like adults.’’

Inside the house, you could hear people loudly counting down to midnight, meaning there wasn’t much time left.

Talking about feelings was always difficult with Conrad. He preferred to bottle them and be miserable instead of facing them.

‘’Of course I do,’’ he admitted with a rare vulnerability. ‘’No one matters more to me than you.’’

You didn’t hear the countdown reaching its end when you leaned up and pressed your lips against his, finally exploring the road untraveled by. You thought it would feel strange to cross the friendship line, but it wasn’t. It was easy and comfortable.

Conrad pulled you back to him with a hand on the small of your back, the sequins of your dress scratching his skin. You wrapped your arms around his neck, as if you were scared he would break the kiss too soon or just…run.

When the kiss did break, Conrad didn’t run. He was smiling down at you as cheers roared from inside the house, the clock having struck midnight.

‘’It almost doesn’t feel real,’’ you said, looking into his beautiful eyes.

Conrad leaned down to kiss you again. ‘’How about now?’’ He had an ever present smile on his lips, the kind of smile that couldn’t be broken by anything. The kind of smile that was from pure happiness.

Starting to feel too cold, the two of you headed back inside to grab your coat and leave. As you were maneuvering through the people, Jeremiah didn’t fail to notice Conrad’s hand holding yours. He elbowed Belly, who squealed excitedly.

—

All and more taglist: @kenqki @hawkegfs @gillybear17 @black-rose-29 @fudge13 @cece05 @laylasbunbunny @gemofthenight @beautyb1ade @mellabella101 @vxnity713 @bisexualgirlsblog @queenofslytherin889 @thatbxtchesblog @softb-tterfly @ethanlandrycanbreakmyheart @xyzstar @graceberman3 @mikeyspinkcup @jackierose902109 @daisydark @laurasdrey @mischieftom @fanatic4niall @peterholland04 @idkwhattonamethisblogs @lexasaurs634 @notasadgirlipromise @zoeynicolas @thejuleshypothesis @multi-fandom-bi-bitch @lexasaurs634 @notasadgirlipromise @thejuleshypothesis @katherinejess

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#conrad fisher #conrad fisher imagine #conrad fisher x reader #the summer i turned pretty imagine #the summer i turned pretty #tsitp

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tempe-brennans · 4 months

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be still, my foolish heart

authors note: this is probably a little silly but. us too much girlies (gn) have to stick together <3

summary: all your life you've felt like too much. joel never seems to notice.

warnings: reader's love language is physical touch and they like to talk and they prefer fuzzy blankets but nothing else specific is mentioned

You’ve been told you’re too much.

It’s a particular feeling, when those words land–especially from someone you love.

Your head gets a little foggy, mind spins a bit. The wheels begin to turn in your brain, modify your behavior. A wall comes down, cuts you off just a little more from whoever stands in front of you. Lists of things you can no longer do–lest you push this person further away–form.

Rejection. Rejection of some fundamental piece of you.

But, now, you’ve carved out a spot for yourself in Jackson all on your own. And, you’ve kept it that way. No friends, no family, barely an acquaintance–well and truly alone.

By yourself, no one can tell you you’re too touchy, they can’t say you’re dumb, can’t begin to speak the words too much.

It’s better that way. At least, that’s what you tell yourself.

If, sometimes, late at night when you’re alone in bed, loneliness curls around your spine like a second skin, that’s nobody’s business but your own.

It's all fine, your life, until the day you meet Joel Miller.

He steps into your store on a particularly good day–which is the first problem.

Watching what you do, what you say, is always harder when you’re excited.

You know of him which is to say you know his name. He walks around Jackson like a ghost too afraid to step fully on the Earth.

You can’t say you blame him.

You also can’t blame yourself for the crush you’d harbored for him.

“Welcome in.” You smile. “Can I help you with anything?”

Joel shakes his head, tight smile on his face.

You nod. “If you change your mind–”

“Actually–” He interrupts you and you can see the moment he kicks himself for it.

Your smile doesn’t fade, all too aware of how it feels to intrude on someone else’s words.

“You were saying?”

He shakes his head. “I don’t know what I’m looking for here.”

“Maybe I can help you figure it out.”

“Ellie–my daughter–she…she wants a blanket–for her birthday, but…” He trails off.

“But?” You prod, trying not to be pushy.

“I’m not exactly Martha Stewart.”

You quirk a brow. “Did she sow?”

Joel tilts his head. “You know, I can’t remember.”

The both of you laugh, and a little thrill runs through you that you had made the stoic Joel Miller laugh.

“I can show you what I have right now. Something might catch your eye.”

He perks up. “You actually have some?”

“Oh, yeah.” You nod. “Got some new ones in the other day.”

You step out from behind the counter, just stopping yourself from running your fingers down his arm as you watch around him.

You hope he didn’t catch the movement.

Your fingers want to thread through his, pull him along behind you, but they don’t.

“These are the quilts,” you gesture to one stack, “and these are the fuzzy ones.” You add, almost under your breath, “My personal favorite.”

“Yeah?”

You nod. “The quilts have always felt a little scratchy. The seams…” You shake your head. “Oh! They’re also harder to tuck yourself into–with how stiff they are.”

“That makes sense.”

You turn towards him, eyes alight. “You might like a fuzzy one, too!” You reach out, hand landing on his belly and fingers lightly scratching–an absent-minded expression of affection. “The winter and everything, if it hurts your joints or your aches, having something extra could be nice, you know. Oh! We also have heated throws.”

Joel’s eyes flick downward, glance at your fingers. You pull them away like you’ve been burned.

“Sorry,” you murmur. “I’m sorry.”

“S’okay.” He nods, and you almost believe him. “You were sayin’ about heated throws?”

You shake your head. “I should really let you decide for yourself.” You start to step away, go back to the counter and your quiet little life, when Joel’s fingers curl around your wrist.

You feel like a fool–at the first sign of friendship, you'd burst, a jack in the box barely closed.

“Darlin’,” Joel shakes his head, chuckles lightly. “I like listening to you talk. I like your touch.”

“You did?”

“I’ve seen you around, you know.”

Dumbstruck–for once in your life–all you can say is, “You have?”

He nods. “Always seemed like talking to you, being close to you, would be like being near the sun. You seemed warm,” he murmurs. “I could use some of that.”

Because you have to hear it–you’ve always had to have it spelled out–you ask, “Are you saying…what it sounds like you’re saying?”

Joel grins. “I’m saying I like you.” His tongue peeks out, licks his lips, and he looks you in the eye. “I want to spend more time with you. That somethin’ you’d be interested in?”

You want to bite him, suddenly, and the thought makes you smile. “I’d be very interested in that,” you hum.

“Yeah?” Joel smiles, something like shock on his features.

You cross the room, throw your arms around his neck and squeeze. “Yeah.”

Joel Miller had seen what most would call too much, and he had simply wanted more.

That feeling–and the feeling of his arms wrapping around your waist–heals something in you that was broken long ago.

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller fluff #the last of us #rebeccawrites

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jasonsknight3 · 20 days

Text

Part two! @eva-sparda20

Warning: intermediation? There isn’t much in this one.

Passing by

(AK Jason d Sweet waitress reader)

Today was a cloudy Saturday, not raining though which was an unusual thing. There was always rain with clouds but not today. Not on your day off. Not that it mattered sense you weren’t going out anyway. Your day off was spent watching movies, napping, snacking, and a few hobbies you finally had time for. The man you met hasn’t come back to your dissatisfaction. As intimidating as he was, you felt a force of attraction to him. Not just his pretty eyes and face, not just the way he made your heart leap in all kinds of nervousness but, the mysterious air about him. The alluring mystery to his personality. You still hadn’t figured him out. Not that you really had time to when you first met him. He was on your mind near constantly for the past three days and two nights. There was so much you wanted to know, to explore. He had your attention so much, it honestly bothered you how quickly you felt…attached. It wasn’t love but it was something. A connection somehow.

Around 6:00 pm the sky grew a little darker and you put on the second movie of the day, a personal favorite. The 1950’s movie “Scaramouche” with Stewart Grange in it. A dramatic movie with romance, sword fighting, comedy, and so much more. It wasn’t everyone’s favorite but you enjoyed it. Watching. As the movie plays you feel your eyelids getting heavier and heavier. The last thing you remember was when Andre Moreau jumped in the wagon proclaiming his love to Aline De Galvrillac.

The sound of wood dragging against wood against wood woke you up. Opening your eyes you rub them trying. To rub away the sleep from them. Peering behind the back part of the couch, you look into the kitchen. You gasped as you saw a figure standing there next to the open window you swear you locked. The figure slid off his green baseball hat revealing a familiar face. Your body relaxed a little. It was him, he wasn’t wearing his armor though, instead, he wore a red hoodie, gray pants, and some hiking boots. “You’re back.” You said softly trying to hide your excitement for the much welcomed surprise visit. Getting up stretching you walk to the kitchen. “What did you come here for?” You ask stopping to rest against the counter. “I was actually hoping you wouldn’t be here.” He said flatly. That drug a little but you half expected it. You tried to keep it light, ignoring the comment. “Yea, I have Sundays off. Um…” you look around your eyes settling on the microwave. 8:00. Before you could speak he said “you should really lock your window.” You nod “yea, it’s actually broken. It doesn’t actually lock.” You explained sheepishly. “You should fix it.” There was a long pause before you said anything else. “Would…would you like some dinner?” You question. He looked at the floor for a moment and looked back at you silently longer than comfortable. “Fine.” A part of you felt relief at his acceptance but you also felt he had ulterior motives for staying. You didn’t mind though, you felt as though it wasn’t anything bad. “Does spaghetti sound good?” You ask him. “Sounds fine.” He replied unenthusiastically. Grabbing pots, noodle, ground beef, mushrooms and all the seasoning you set all the items out to start.

As you filled up the big pot with water he leaned against the counter next to the stove. “So, what’s your name hm?” Him asking questions was a surprise but you answered happily. “Um, (F/N).” He hummed in response before continuing. “I could tell you worked at a diner the first time I saw you but I just want to know if my assumption is correct.” You smile, “yea, I work at a diner.” You say heaving up the pot of water and setting it on the stove. Turning the knob and pausing til you hear the three clicks to finally turn it up to nine. The fire caught and started to heat up the water. “Which one?” He questioned you. You looked at him for a moment before answering “why are you asking? What’s with starting all these questions?” You ask curiously. He frowns as if his reasons were obvious. “To make sure that you keep your word.” The water began to boil. Putting in the noodles and storing for a minute you respond. “How would asking me these questions keep me in check? Besides, I'll keep you a secret.” You say as you start to brown the meat. He seemed frustrated. “Your word isn’t enough. Secondly,” he stepped close to the way he presented himself was intimidating, making you shiver a little. “I’ve done my research, you know. I know you to a level others don’t. Your name is (F/N) (M/N) (L/N), I know you are (age), dropped out of college, work at Paul’s diner on Maigani island, on grande Avenue, the one that was rebuilt a year ago, I know your medical history, I know you’re originally from (redacted). Escaped your family, now you're here. I. Know. Everything.” Your heart hammered in your chest, your face no doubt reflecting panic and terror. You didn’t really realize the gravity of who this man was. Possibilities swam in your head. Has he been stalking you? Was the night you helped him planned? Stepping back he relaxed. “Calm down, it’s not that hard to find all of that information, not for me. Let’s just say I used to work for the supposed “best detective” there ever was. I’m a vigilante. I hunt criminals down regularly. Hunting down your information was easy. As for your question about how it helps me “keep you in check” by asking questions. Think of it as a test. I ask what I already know and based on your answer I learn how honest you really are.” It was a lot to take in but it all made at least a little sense. Why he was hurt, why he wore the gear, why he knew so much about you. It all made more sense but still freaked you out a little. You quietly start to add the red sauce. You didn’t know what to say, you felt so exposed, you didn’t have a criminal record but it felt as if he knew every sin you committed.

Out of the corner of your eye you see him looking out the window when his body suddenly jolted , his body going stiff, his head slightly snapping to the side before returning to looking out the window. He closed his eyes for a moment before pulling out a cigarette and lighting it, putting it to rest between his lips. Taking a deep inhale he then blew out the smoke. You look at him nervously before saying “could you please open the window?” His iceberg eyes shifted to you. Wordlessly he opened the window letting the cool air of the night carry the smoke out. Within fifteen minutes the spaghetti was ready. The final touches were adding rosemary, mushrooms, pepper, garlic, and some basil. Making a plate for him he takes a seat at the table and begins to eat. Even if he tried to hide it you could tell he was really enjoying the home made meal. After making your own plate you lean in against the opposite counter and begin to eat as well. Once you chewed a few bites you managed the courage to ask him “what’s your name?” Pausing just before taking another bite he eyed you down before replying “No need for you to know.” Not really happy with his answer, you add a little pressure. “Well you know so much about me already. Seems fair I should know at least something about you.” He chewed his bite slowly considering. “I don’t play fair (F/N).” I don’t owe you an explanation but…my name is Jason. That’s all you get.” You smile “Jason, seems fitting.” You say, his facial expression changed, he seemed a little weirded out or at least didn’t know what to say to that. It was honestly kind of funny…cute even. “Yea, well, don’t get too excited. It’s just a name.” After eating he thanked you for the meal.

Before leaving he said “don’t forget to, I am keeping tabs on you.” He paused one more time halfway through the window “and fixed that window lock. You're just asking for trouble.” With that Jason left. This meeting felt different. There was so much that happened in one setting, being left with many emotions, fear, attraction and the biggest of all. Curiosity.

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quickandsilvers · 2 months

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I have been thinking,,, non stop about that Peter Maximoff music ask,,, and like

Another song that popped into my head that apocalypse era Peter would use in such a scenario? Rod Stewart, "Do Ya Think I’m Sexy?"

Like,,, I'm sorry, are we gonna pretend that it's NOT a song he'd fuck to?

ALSO Dark Phoenix Peter! Another song that I think fits his vibe! Alice Cooper, "Poison". Like, it's just... it's got the edge, the sexy bass, the desperation, the... everything.

Hhhh,,,, I need this speedy silver himbo so much,,,, 😔😔😔

(Also the "bunny humping" description made me laugh, ngl...)

ROD STWART?! 100 PERCENT AGREED, ANON! ITS NOT AN OPINION ANYMORE, IT’S DOWNRIGHT THE TRUTH!!!

Alice Cooper is definitely a go-to for bedroom times with quickie, esp ‘You and Me’🧎‍♀️💕💖

Alright, here’s some songs i think would be playing whilst Peter x reader are getting it on:

-Hotel California- Eagles (maybe this is just a fantasy for me but… let’s dwell on it, ‘kay?)

-Kiss from a Rose- Seal (can you imagine singing along to the chorus whilst being drilled against a wall? HOH MAMA)

-Layla- Derek & The Dominos (a given. Someone suggested this before and it’s the nothing but the truth)

-Money For Nothing- Dire Straits (need I give an explanation? maybe a little too groovy for seggsy times with our speedster though…)

-Whole Lotta Love- Led Zeppelin (had to fan myself from the mere thought of this one,, goddamn)

-Stargazer- Rainbow (He’s totes gonna try and fuck you to the beat. And with the tempo of this song? Hoh’ boy, get ready to explain to Charles why you need him to lend you his spare wheelchair for a week)

-Lovin’, Touchin’, Squeezin’ - Journey (i think the name says enough)

-White Wedding - Pt. 1- Billy Idol (This SCREAMS dark phoenix peter)

-Hungry Like the Wolf- Duran Duran (honestly? I might as well add the entire Duran Duran discography to this mixtape. He probably plays this especially when eating you out and makes a lame joke about the song title before devouring you)

-Wham Bam Shang-A-Lang- Silver (you probably both belt this to eachother, maybe even pausing your fooling around just to have a little groove💕💕oh boy does this make my heart flutter)

-(I Just) Died In Your Arms- Cutting Crew (Peter added this thinking he was the romantic of the century. Like “babe, whaddaya mean it’s corny?”)

-Emotion Detector- Rush (thank you Geddy Lee for creating the song of the millennium🧎‍♀️)

-I Want to Know What Love Is- Foreigner (a classic. a staple for love songs in the 80s, dare i miss it out?? Also again, a very dark phoenix peter song)

-Sugar Walls- Sheena Easton (Peter only really added this to get a laugh out of you. He’s insistent on the fact that you taste sweeter than a twinkie..i wonder what walls he’s referring to, hm?)

-Slide It In- Whitesnake (c’mon now, what did you really expect,,, from a goof with the humour of a twelve year-old boy no less?)

-Flesh For Fantasy- Billy Idol (thank you our lord and saviour Billy Idol for the contributions to this mixtape, you never fail us)

Honourable mention:

-Carless Whisper- George Michael (Just like he did with The Cutting Crew, Peter added this under the impression he was the epitome of romantic. The deadpan/unimpressed look you gave him said otherwise. That was the first and last time Peter took seductive song suggestions from Deadpool.. why did he even ask??)

#totes not writing a fic on this (i am)#someone tranqualize me im taking these ideas and running with them #peter maximoff #quicksilver #evan peters #xmen #peter maximoff x reader #peter maximoff fluff #peter maximoff smut #xmen peter maximoff #evan peters masterlist #evan peters headcannons #evan peters x reader #evan peters characters #quicksilver smut

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sarahmadisonxoxo · 1 year

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Blind Steve AU Continued: After meeting in the elevator and going out for the first time, Steve and Eddie really hit it off. Strangely Steve won’t allow Eddie to consider them boyfriends, and if Eddie even starts hinting at the topic of really asking him out, Steve will always politely steer the conversation in a different direction. The lack of title doesn’t interfere with how Steve and him interact, but he just wants more. Getting to kiss Steve and take him out on dates is nice, but Steve’s hesitant stance on the matter makes him wonder what thoughts are going on in the others mind. Is this only temporary? Should he be counting down the seconds until Steve decided he’d had enough. Eddie tried not letting it bother him. It had only been two months since they met, maybe Steve just thought it was all going a little fast? He was happy and saw no reason to rush things. Yeah... Steve was a great guy, that’s just what it had to be. In celebration of their two month anniversary and with Valentines day only a few days away, Eddie decided it would be nice to do something for Steve. Pull together a small basket of his favorite snacks and candies. Steve always seemed to carry some kind of snacks on him and nibble on them through the day. It was one of his favorite things about the younger man, he always had snacks and was willing to share with Eddie. M&M’s, Skittles, Reeces, and a small bag of mini marshmallows just to name a few things. He’d also decided to toss his hat at baking Steve a cake. It was just a box mixture from the store, cheekily picking devils food because he liked the name. Eddie was no Martha Stewart, but he could throw some ingredients in a bowl and pour it in a cake pan. He’d checked the instructions on the box at least five times, but after twenty minutes the pan was in the oven. Eddie felt proud of himself. This was an accomplishment for him. After cleaning the counter from the chocolate batter that mysteriously ended up all over the place, he went to go start putting together Steve’s gift basket. Retreating into the living room, dropping onto the couch, after he’d put a Metallica record on.

Steve was going to love this. He’d even googled how to write Valentine in braille, and planned to use textured dried icing pieces to put it on the cake. He couldn’t remember putting this much effort into anyone before, but Steve deserved it. The thing about Eddie was that he was easily carried away by other task, so much that he’d completely forget what he’d been doing before it. Eddie had completely forgotten about the cake until the apartment was filled with a thin veil of smoke, setting the alarm off as more smoke seeped from the oven. Triggering the fire alarm in his apartment, set off all of them in the entire building forcing an evacuation and setting off the sprinklers. His cake was ruined, and now he was responsible for everyone’s things getting soaked.. Including Steve’s Oh shit.. Steve! He was probably freaking out. Eddie ran out of the apartment as fast as his legs would carry him through the crowd of people who were now leaving the building. Shoving past soaked and frustrated neighbors until he hit the level for Steve’s floor... “ Steve!!!” Eddie called out, hitting his fist against the door. “ Steve open up man it’s Eddie... Are you in there? Steve? “ Nothing. Someone surely knew about Steve. One of his neighbors? Right. Someone probably got him out, and he was usually at Robin’s at this time of day anyway. He was probably just with Robin and they were both outside already waiting on the all clear. It felt excessive for just a burnt cake, but it was better safe than sorry. Eddie would love to be ignorant to the fact that he ruined their anniversary. Two months...They weren’t technically a couple, but to Eddie it counted and it was grounds for celebration. Two months of knowing the most beautiful man in the world. Once he was outside the apartment he immediately started looking for Steve. His heart nearly falling out of his throat at the sight of Robin... she looked concerned, and worst of all Steve wasn’t with her! “ Eddie.. oh my god, have you seen Steve. He didn’t come over, he called and said he would be a little late. Then the alarm went off and I couldn’t find him and I thought he’d be with you, but obviously he’s not. My blind bestfriend is missing when our apartment could burst into flames at any moment.. and .. and . I am panicking Eddie. Where is Steve” Robin laughed hysterically, dragging her hands down her face. “ Robin?” a familiar voice called out. “ Eddie.. is that you? What’s going on? Why are there sirens. Is something wrong?” “ Oh my god Steve! You’re okay” Robin cried, running and crashing herself in a hug against the man making Steve drop his bags. “ Robin.. What’s going on? Why wouldn’t I be okay?” Steve asked, his tone now frantic as panic of the unknown start to set in. “ Eddie? What’s going on!” “ I Uh.. sort of burnt a cake. “ Eddie mumbled. “ You did what ? I couldn’t hear you Eddie speak up” “ I was trying to make you a cake Steve and I burned it okay” Eddie rushed out, “ then the fire alarms went off and everyone started to panic. Then you know here we are. “ “ You were making me a cake? “ Steve questioned, a smile tugging against his lips. “ Eddie that’s so sweet. “ “ Uh Dingus... are you missing the part where he almost caught our entire building on fire. “ Robin chimed in, not moving from where she was attached to Steve, still holding him in a hug. “ You made me a cake” Steve repeated, the smile growing on his face. “ Oh God... He’s endeared by this” Robin gagged, finally pulling away from the younger man. “ you’re not mad? “ He questioned disbelieving. “ No I am not mad.. I was going to try and cook dinner for us tonight and it probably would have ended up similarly. I can do some things on my own, but I wanted to make something special.. I am actually happy to be let off the hook.” “ So what do you say? We could order in a pizza? I will help you clean the water. “ “ That sounds great Eddie.”

#Eddie Munson #Steve Harrington #blind steve #Robin Buckley #eddie is a mess #stranger things #headcannons

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sweetlittlegingy · 1 year

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Lavender Haze

✰ Midnights Masterlist

✰ Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Y/n

✰ Word Count: 3 K

✰ Warning: Toxic family and sexism (reader's parents), drinking, fluff, smutty themes, protective!Jake

✰ A/n: This was only supposed to be a blurb, but here we are 3000 words later... I don't know what a blurb is apparently. Also, I do not have a taglist, follow my library and turn on notifications for updates!

✰ Library

Staring at the ceiling with you

Oh, you don't ever say too much

And you don't really read into

My melancholia

…

“You still with me darlin’?”

The question pulls you from your daydream, and you glance back at Jake. His hand gives you a gentle squeeze when he sees the tense smile you force yourself to make, and shifts closer to you automatically. Slightly moving back farther into the settee and pulling your body closer to him, as his arm settles behind your back.

“I just hate coming here, they’re overbearing.”

As you mutter the words, your eyes flitter around the room taking in the spectacle that is your parents. The decor of your parents' house was always rich and elegant, though the added dried lavender was a new addition. Your mother had claimed that given it was spring, lavender could be the theme of the party. Resulting in not only dried lavender everywhere but hints of purple decor, lining the walls. There had been so much lavender added to the house, the smell was overbearing, and mixed with the purple décor, together they were both giving you a migraine.

You were used to the incessant loop of people coming in and out of your house, throughout your childhood a weekly was the usual occurrence.

Though now seeing so many unfamiliar faces, you quietly wondered what your parents must have done to run off those that you grew up with. The current array of your parent’s friends were snobby elites that clearly had too much money, and each of them was as annoying as the next. The constant string of questions and judgmental looks, while they rotate you through the groups like a stab of meat, was something you became accustomed to at a young age. But as you’ve gotten old it only seems to have worsened, and socially acceptable boundaries didn't exist when it came to questions about your life.

It was no easy task being the only daughter of Texas socialites; privacy had become a foreign topic and you could no longer do right in your parent’s eyes. Having left the state quite abruptly, when you decided to follow Jake to California and finish your degree online, was only the tip of your ever-growing list of disappointments. The long list ranged from the fact that you weren't married yet, to how you hadn't given them a grandchild, and so forth.

Coming home hadn’t even been your choice, but Jake was coming home to Austin to visit his family and the decision had been made. You loved Jake’s family and the decision to see them after 9 months was easy.

The visit was supposed to be 2 weeks with his family only, though your plans were quickly demolished when your mother called and heard Jake playing with his nieces. Your plan to play it off as they came to California for a visit would have worked if your mother didn’t have to put her nose in other people’s business.

Though like the wonderful woman she is, she called Jake’s mother almost instantly and found out the truth. You were in no way upset with Liz, she was the sweetest woman that you had ever met, and you hadn’t exactly mentioned that you were avoiding your family. While the Seresin family knew that your family didn't always get along, the drama that accompanied your family name, wasn't something that you wanted to bring them into.

Though the slip-up landed you here, back on your parent’s estate and drinking your sorrows away. The “herbalist” Lavender Champagne was one that your mother learned about in a Martha Stewart cookbook, though she had told everyone that Martha had given it to her personally. Typical behavior from the woman; she’s always been a compulsive liar.

The lavender stems were anything but calming, and more so a frufru additive to the imported drink, subsequently it had helped the 4-hour dinner party move faster. You were on your third glass, while Jake had switched to scotch after dinner and the small buzz was a welcomed distraction.

The home you and Jake found on the highly uncomfortable settee, which was more for show than anything, had been your safe haven. The both of you settled it after you had done one set of rounds and had stayed in it since. Though the luxury fades away as you see your mother heading through the crowd, with a group of women and making a b-line for you and Jake.

“Sweetie, you might want to slip away before the crows can sink their claws into you.”

The group of older women had no sense of personal space when it came to Jake, the constant pawing and flirting was an event that you would only let Jake deal with once tonight. Jake's gaze moves to where your staring and instantly sucks in a harsh breath. He sits the both of you upright, before placing a kiss on your cheek and moving to leave.

“Signal if you need me darlin’.”

“And how should I do that?” the teasing tone in your voice, makes him smile. Glad to see that even with the events of the night, you can still be your chipper, sarcastic self.

“I mean, you could just start yelling mayday like a lunatic, but a subtle ‘excuse me I need a refill’ should suffice.”

The wink that Jake gives you, before slipping past your mother barely avoiding her clutch, has you giggling. Though you’re quick to cover it up when your mother glares at you and takes a seat next to you, motioning the group of ladies to do the same.

…

All they keep asking me

Is if I'm gonna be your bride

The only kinda girl they see

Is a one-night or a wife

…

“Y/n, it’s so good to see you. Your mother always has so much to say about you.”

You can’t quite remember the lady's name, the rotation of women your mother kept was highly overwhelming and quite petty. Though you can only nod to the woman, as another interrupts and asks about you and Jake.

The hand your mother had settled on your back tenses slightly, as she jabs one of her nails into your lower back and you fight to hide your wince. Her own voice takes over the question for you, leaving you to glance around the room. You catch sight of Jake over by the liquor cabinet, surrounded by your father’s friends from the country club.

The well-tailored slacks and blazer had had your mouth watering from the moment you saw them on him. The heat of your gaze must alert him to your staring, as his emerald, green eyes flash to you and a teasing smirk crosses his lips. The cheeky wink he gives you has you looking away quickly and you can’t help but blush knowing that you’ve been caught.

“– isn’t that right Y/n?”

Your attention is quickly back on the group when you hear your mother state your name. A small hum falls from your lips, in hopes that your mother will, willingly repeat what she said.

“You and Jake.” Her harsh tone is followed by another jab to your spine, and you slightly grit your teeth in pain and annoyance.

“Yes, Jake and I are going on our five-year anniversary.”

Your smile is genuine when it crosses your face, and it doesn’t go unnoticed by the surrounding group. You and Jake met when you were only 15 and started dating right after high school. He was the best thing that ever happened to you, and you were thankful that your relationship had stayed so strong through the years.

The topic of marriage had come up many times, though you had expressed that you wanted to finish school before you tied the knot. Knowing that your mother would want a “perfect” wedding that was a grand event; was an added stress that you couldn't have right now alongside your studies.

“And yet there’s no ring?” The statement more so, than a question comes from your Aunt Fran and the harsh tease is hard to miss when the ladies around you silently whisper.

“We’re very happy, with our current status.” The sweet smile you give is anything but, “Unlike some of you, I’m not actively looking for a husband with a formidable amount of money for me to spend.”

This time you can’t hide your wince when your mother jabs at your back, and the once slightly painful action, now has your back bowing away from her hand. If the ladies notice your reaction, no one says anything and the harsh glare from your mother has you tipping the rest of your champagne back.

“I’d be careful darling. You’re almost 25, and well, he’s bound to get bored with you.”

You give your aunt a tight smile, holding your tongue as you glance at the clock on the overhead wall. The comment wasn't one you hadn't heard before, but the delivery of it seemed to get blunter each time she said it. The ticking of the hands is a welcomed sight, as the big hand slowly moves toward the twelve and brings you that much closer to your escape.

…

They're bringing up my history

But you weren't even listening

…

The topic of conversation quickly drifted to the current Texas politics and gossip from around town, while you quietly zoned out and enjoy the growing buzz that the champagne fills you with. The ladies’ voices drown together and their high-pitched laughter only adds to your growing migraine. The hand that had been resting in your lap comes to rub your head, and rakes through your hair to push the strands from your face.

Jake had been watching you since the moment he left you, not trusting your mother and what she could bring up. He’d noticed each wince you had tried to hold in; over the years he had become a custom to your actions and could always tell when your mother was behind said actions.

“So, Jake is y/n behaving for you? She’s never been good at listening; I can imagine she only gotten worse with the move.”

Jake had been used to your parents constantly harping on you and putting you down, though it was never easy. Jake had seen you through all of your teenage years, and he knew for a fact that you had never questioned your parents. You had always been the kind sweet girl, that worried about good grades and making sure she never disappointed anyone.

Well, up until you decided to go to university and move to California with Jake. Those two decisions had been the cataclysmic event that pushed the snowball off the hill, leading it into a never-ending roll. Each little problem that your parents found only added to the issues. It had become a compilation of why you were a disappointment and reasons to hate you.

The slight glare that Jake gives your father, has him starting in on another topic without Jake’s reply. Though the new topic had been just as bad, if not worse.

“I’m sure you do agree though, that her going to school is unacceptable. A lady’s place is in the home, taking care of things.”

He follows the statement up with a wink, and Jake is slightly stunned by the comment. The whites of his knuckles now visible, with the tightening grasp he has on the scotch glass. Jake would be afraid of breaking it, though it might be a nice distraction. Given the fact that his anger was only growing and the chances of punching your father were only growing.

“Excuses me.”

“I said –”

“No, I know what you said. I just can’t believe how much of a pretentious sexist asshole you are. Y/n is doing exceptional in school, and I am extremely proud of her.” The slight step that Jake takes closer to your father, is hard to miss and though you couldn’t hear what they were saying, you knew enough, that it wasn’t good.

“Also, whatever she decides to do with her life, is her decision, not yours. So, I suggest you back the fuck off.”

…

Surreal

I'm damned if I do give a damn what people say

No deal

The 1950s shit they want from me

…

As Jake steps away from your father, you give your mother and the ladies surrounding you a look before getting up and making your way toward him.

“You won't be young forever darling. Why I'd be worried already, how do you know he doesn’t have someone on the side?”

The statement is made towards your back as you pass your aunt Fran, it causes you to stiffen slightly. You knew that Jake would never cheat on you, you both loved each other immensely, but that didn't make hearing their bitter comments any easier. It was something you got quite good at, letting each of their comments roll off your back. Though it seemed to work against you, with comments only getting worse after every party when they couldn't get the desired reaction from you.

Jake had made it to your side, just as your mother and aunt started laughing causing the ladies around them to giggle to your demise. His warm hand wraps around your forearm and pulls you into his chest, placing a delicate kiss on your brow before pulling back. His green eyes silently watch you in question, though you can only shake your head in reply. The sooner you left this monstrous house the better.

You may have grown into a strong, brilliant young lady, but being back in this position felt like your parents still had control over you. It felt like you were still that little girl that worked herself to death, just to please those around her.

“Sweetheart let's go home.”

The words are muttered into your ear, as the warmth of Jake’s breath cascades over you and relaxes you slightly. You nod in return, turning your head so your forehead can rest against his own before placing a gentle kiss on his lips.

A silent thank you.

You leave the crowd in a blur, only consumed in the comfort Jake brings you. Neither of you tell your parents goodbye, and you silently hope that it will upset them enough that you wouldn’t be invited back.

The cool fresh air of the night calms you as you step outside the house, and Jake's arms slip around your waist as he places delicate kisses along your neck. His chin settles on your neck, while is hands tighten around it, almost as if he was afraid, you would slip away.

“You know how proud I am of you right?”

You hum slightly, just enjoying the feeling of being in his arms. The buzz from the champagne fades away, and in its place is Jake.

“You amaze me every day sweetheart, and no matter what anyone says, I will always love you.” The loving statement makes you nuzzle back into Jake and place a kiss on his cheek. Though the seriousness of the moment fades, as Jake teasingly bites along the passage of your neck. You tilt your head to the side and let him have full access to the passage, as small moans emit from your lips.

You turn in Jake’s hold, going to wrap your arms around his neck, and place a slow kiss on his lips. The heat radiates between the two of you and has a steady yearning coming from your core. Both of your lips move in sync, slotting perfectly together with no care for the surrounding world.

Jake's hands grasp at your hips, as the material of your dress rises slightly up your thighs and creates the perfect space for Jake to slot his thigh between your own. The tug on your hips causes your core to brush harshly against the material of Jake's slacks. The jolt sent through your body, has you grasping onto Jake’s hair even tighter and pulling at it.

You only pull back when you have to gasp for a breath, though Jake doesn’t hesitate and goes to work on your jawline. The tip back of your head gives him even more access and your eyes barely opening to see the night sky, as a needy moan tumbles from your lips. Your mind lays in a haze of need and want for Jake, more than willing to have him take you on your parent's front lawn.

You pant slightly as Jake places one last kiss on your lips, before pulling away and resting his forehead against yours, causing your noses barely brush each other. The green of his eyes shines bright in comparison to the house lamps, and you wonder how you got so lucky.

“I love you.”

Jake had never been shy about expressing his love for you and the three words, even after all these years, still made you feel like you were floating on a cloud. The wide smile that breaks out across your lips only stays for a second, as you press a sweet giddy kiss once again against his lips.

“I love you.”

Your smile mirrors one another other, though it's quickly displaced as Jake's hands that had settled on your hips start to tickle you. Laughter erupts from your chest, as you break out of his hold and run. Your heels fall from your feet, landing in the drive, as your dress flares out behind you.

Jake's own laughing seems to be closing in on you and causes you to speed up, while your own laughs grow louder and interrupt the still night. Your mind is abuzz and clouded with a warm haze, that can only be attributed to Jake and as you glance back once more over your shoulder, his hands grasp onto you and spin you around.

Your lips find a home against each other, and you decide then that the haze Jake fills your mind with, is one you wanted to live in forever.

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