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#I’ve been working on this since Sunday lol

kayniscanem · 13 days

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I'd love to go to Silent Hill. I think I would get a lot out of it, and I also don't want to go to work, but then I think about it a little more and genuinely work myself up a bit because of MY OWN MADE-UP SCENARIO that Silent Hill would make me endure a minimum wage job

#barks 🐾#LIKE… THIS SHITS NEVER GONNA HAPPEN LMFAOOO WHY AM I LETTING THIS ALTER MY MOOD #I’ve been working since I was 15/16 lol #going to school 5 days a week and working 9 hour shifts every Saturday and Sunday landed me in the psych ward on multiple occasions #I’ve dreamt of being a vagabond since the age of 6 tbh I don’t think that’ll ever change

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sen-ya · 1 month

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Life After Master Post

Summary: Two years ago, a viral outbreak rose the dead. Considering how his life had gone up to this point, surgeon Trafalgar Law figured this might as well happen too. When a supply run into the nearby city gets intercepted by a seemingly reckless and impulsive former patient, the dependable routine Law had settled into in this new life shatters. He finds himself exposed — his body out in the infected landscape, his conscious clawing to define what he believes is right, his heart begrudgingly deciding to find a new home on his sleeve. Maybe there’s more than a virus roaming the new world that can bring a dead man back to life.

Content Warnings: Canon typical violence, zombies/body horror (but lbr I am not good at making scary things look scary)

Relationships: Luffy x Law

Update Schedule: New page every Monday/Wednesday/Friday

Page Count: [13 posted | 31 drawn]

Latest Update: [5/26/23] I got real caught up in doing summer of lawlu comics this week and this is the first week since the first week of April I haven't drawn new Life After pages and it feels weird 🙊

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OLD UPDATES:

[5/19/24] More Luffy backstory comin' this week! :^)

[5/12/24] Updating now so get myself on schedule to update on Sundays like I had been with my other comic master post!

[5/8/24] Thank you to everyone who's liked/reblogged/comment on the first few pages!! It means the world to me that anyone's reading my silly little comics.

[4/28/24] HULLO. It’s happeninnng. I’ve spent the last few weeks working on this comic, and I gotta make this post so I can start queuing pages & link this in them! This is the most like….legit? Comic endeavor I’ve undertaken perhaps….ever. I’m very nervous about committing to how long it will need to be lol. This story is dear to my heart — zombie content is kind of my very favorite. I’ve always found it to be a great backdrop for exploring themes like grief, coping with change, community, and learning to live again. It’ll be a long haul but I hope you’ll ride it out with me!! Tomorrow I’ll be posting the first two pages. After that a page will post every Monday/Wednesday/Friday. As of this post I’ve completed over 20 pages so that I have a good lead on what’s posting and continuing to write, so I’m hopeful that’s a cadence I’ll be able to maintain. I’ll update this post weekly to include the most recent pages the way I do with my main comics master post. All pages will be tagged 'Life After' and I'll tag any pages with zombies in them with 'zombie' for blacklisting etc.

#my art #life after

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szanne7000 · 8 months

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🟢Windswept ~ A Witch Cottage🟢Simblreen Gift🟢TS4🟢

Windswept is a Simblreen Gift for all of you! I started this build on October 11th & finished it October 20th when I sent it to Bodaccia for testing. I started working on finding all the links (that I was able to find) Saturday, the 21st. Let me tell you that there are over 900 pieces of cc (and several of their swatches!) in this build… I think I’ve been dreaming about missing texture files, links, Google, & Wayback Machine every night when I finally went to bed, LOL. Bodaccia informed me of some things that needed changing, & I worked on those over Wednesday & Thursday & finished them all on Friday when I sent it back to Bodaccia for “emergency” testing. While she was doing that, I was finishing up the links & taking pictures. I think the only time I’ve worked harder & faster was when I was participating in DOTY. It is now about 4 pm on Saturday, October 28th, & I just need the Tumblr to work…

Happy Simblreen!!! I hope you are pleased with Windswept for a long, long time.

1 Bed/1 Bath

Living, Dining, Kitchen

Workroom & Consult Area

Spell Room

Séance Room

This build came about as a wish from my youngest son, Ben. He wanted a fantastical Witch Cottage to play in, & we both thought that all of you might enjoy it, too. Windswept is based on real-life architectural plans & my imagination. As many of us adults, he has loved The Sims since the beginning. In fact, both my sons (Travis is my oldest) were responsible for getting me into this game. Without my sons’ interest in this game, my love of building, landscaping, & decorating in The Sims would not have happened. Thank you, my Loves, for your push.

The Credits & Links pdf file included with the build contains everything you need to enjoy this build. Go see all of these Amazing Creators in their native habitats!

A Gigantic & Special Thank You to the following Creators who allowed me to include their content as a Gift with this build:

@karzalee -001StudioK @ADVMabra, @aggressivekitty @mel-bennett @psychicpeanutkitty @irinaseverinka @solistair & @theeaax

I want to give a Huge Thank You to all the Creators whose generous TOUs allow inclusion of their content with builds, which for this Simblreen Gift is most of you.

2SIS @alf-si Angel74 Anidup animefemme @pinkbox-anye @arcanewonder @ars-botanica @artrui Asyli @aroundthesims @baufive Bodaccia @budgie2budgie @buildingdiva @chalipo-all4sims @simthingnew - Chicklet Chisami @clarasims4fan @coralitt-sims Daer0n X MDN Daer0n S4D IDBD Elfydrell @ethericall @exzentra FAB @patchouli-sugar flirtyghoul @haruinosato @helen-sims Hel Studio Hel Studio X @sundays-sims @hydrangeachainsaw Ichosim @ilonastuffforsims4 @simverses - Ingeli @jools-simming @kerriganhouse @kitkatssimporium @lady-moriel lavi3enrose @leaf-motif Ledger Atelier-Modern @leosims4cc @lina-cherie Llen @loree-sims4 @loveratsims4 LunaLuciaLuna @luumia @lumenniveus @magnolianfarewell Mammut @mangosims4-blog @mimoto-sims @imminervaa @mio-sims @msteaqueen @mxims Nelfeah neriney-moxXxes, @nynaevedesign Ohmysims @oldbox1310 OrangeMittens @omorfi-mera @serenebluesims @cross-design @rumorukaraizon @sanoysims @saudade-sims4 sg5150 @simdertalia @sims4luxury @simspirationbuilds X Hel Studio Sn4 Snowhaze @sooky88 @syboubou Tekinkah thealienships-Willow Gardens @thejim07 @therran91 @tilly-tiger @tkangie @wykkyd-sims @xelennsimblr @yumesims & @yumia-x

The few creators whose content you need to get can break between patches; they all deserve an Enormous Thank You for everything they do.

@dorocash @momo-cc aka MountainSplitter @natdreamsims @simcredibledesigns & thepancake1 and @mizoreyukii

I also want to give a Massive Thank You to the Modders/Creators whose contributions make my game easy to finagle & look gorgeous: You do impossibly great work!

20thCPlumbob @bakiegaming crosire @k-hippie @lotharihoe @pictureamoebae @ravasheencc @simp4sims TwelthDoctor1, @twistedmexi @yakfarm & @zerbu

Lastly, I need to thank my Bestie, @bodaccia48. She’s absolutely the Bestest Bestie there has ever been. Even though she’s been under the weather this week, she fully play-tested this build to ensure that you & your simmies can enjoy it without issue. She even dragged herself out of bed right before I did a final save of the lot to run an emergency check to make certain some necessary fixes actually worked. Seriously, they don’t come better than you, Bestie!

🟢Download🟢

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#ts4 build #simblreen 2023 #simblreen #szanne7000

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etherealising · 1 month

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hey vee! omg i’m so glad you extended your celebration. i’ve been drowning in schoolwork and kinda losing my mind but i totally wanna participate at least once!

ik we’re team barmy in this house but i’m curious to see a drabble on what this day was like from camry’s perspective.

that day baby came to work and he was on a date with claire. how did he bring himself to even go especially after their previous night together. (ik this may be a lil agnsty, i’ve been loving that kind of stuff lately) 💞💞

stawph!!! this request excites me every time i read it and idk why lol. i love writing pre-aiekoy barby it's so much fun to just invent a bunch of lore!!

thank you so much for requesting!!! i see you in my inbox bestie and i promise i’ll get back to you love!! also your constant support really is one of the reasons i keep posting so thank you so much for indulging me 🫶🏽

After baby leaves the berzatto household carmy literally has zero clue what to do with himself, like man is just staring at his bedroom door 30 minutes later trying to figure out if what just happened was real or just his imagination.

He definitely brushes his fingers across his lips a couple of times, tingles racing through his body every time he thinks about your lips on his.

Carmy goes to sleep happy that night his mind full of visions of you as he finally lays his head to rest.

Sunday rolls around and he’s feeling a bit anxious that neither of you have seen or spoken to each other since that night.

Carmy is freaking out like it genuinely hasn’t even been a full 24 hrs since the moment the two of you shared and he’s sure he scared you off. Maybe you just kissed him back because you felt sorry for him man is running through all the worst scenarios in his head.

He’s definitely picked up the phone to call you and typed out messages but was too scared to do either one in fear of rejection or worse in fear of ruining your already rocky friendship.

At some point, he just relegates himself to finishing some English final essay to keep his mind off of you (it obviously doesn’t work).

It’s getting later as the day passes by and Carmy’s just staring at the few words in the notebook and the eraser marks decorating the page.

The sound of his phone vibrating against the table pulls him from his thoughts and that boy is racing from his seat to answer it, no hesitation no checking the caller ID nothing.

He answers breathlessly and calls your name with a smile on his face because who else would be calling him?

The devastation radiates off of him as Claire’s voice rings into his ears. He gives her an uninterested “Oh, hi.” Mans is not happy at all but he was raised right so he indulges her.

Carmy zones out as soon as he realizes it’s not you, moving through the living room to peek through the curtains at your house, your car is still in the driveway so you must be home, maybe he can go see you after this phone call.

Claire’s voice drifts through his ears asking where he’s at and homeboy is confused most of his focus going to how he’s gonna get his girl who isn’t yet his girl.

And then he remembers before his moment with you, before he knew what it felt like to feel the soft caress of your lips, the weight of your body in his lap. Claire asked him to lunch and he said yes!

He stumbles over his words, he can easily tell Claire that he’s not interested, that there’s someone else. But only an asshole would do something like that over the phone. So with one last look at your car, he decides he’ll meet up with Claire, let her down easy, and then you and him can figure out what this is between the two of you.

Carmy uses the back entrance not wanting to engage with any of the many people crowded in line at the front of the shop, easily finding Claire alone at a table a sigh of relief escaping him that she hadn’t chosen yours and his special table.

It’s awkward for the first few minutes after he sits down. He promised himself he’d start by admitting to Claire that he thought she was nice and pretty even, but that he realized he was in love with someone else.

Claire breaks the ice before he can even get his little speech out, maybe he’ll wait till the end of this little hangout maybe that would save the awkwardness of having to eat with someone you admitted you didn’t have feelings for.

Somehow the two of them go from awkward conversation to joking around about the previous night at prom.

Carmy’s back is to the entrance so he doesn’t take notice of your presence but he watches as Claire’s eyes drift from his face her eyes lighting up hand waving with gusto as she says your name.

Carmy doesn’t even need to turn around to see you, a heavy weight growing at the bottom of his stomach, but he does anyway and the way you avoid his eyes is enough proof that this whole situation upset you.

He doesn’t even give Claire a second thought before he’s out of his seat trying to find you, the muffled cries leaving the walk-in lead him straight to you, and he can’t help the annoyance that builds up in him at hearing Mikey’s voice.

His older brother, always there to save the fucking day. He stays a bit longer just listening to you sob and he knows he was the cause of your anguish.

Carm returns to Claire and apologizes for leaving and he doesn’t explain anything but he can see the sadness in her eyes as a silent conversation passes between the two of them her eyes watering with her hurt and realization.

Claire was kind enough to offer him a ride home, but Carmy decided to walk home, he didn’t know how he could live with the weight of making two girls cry in one day.

On the tedious walk home, Carmy comes to the decision that it’s best if he just lets you believe what you want. You’ll be gone soon and there’s no point in clearing anything up, no point in putting his feelings about you into words if the two of you will be apart soon.

So he self-sabotages allows you to think he’s the bad guy (i mean he kinda is lol) doesn’t clear up what you think you saw, and doesn’t address the kiss and intimate moment he initiated.

And as the days tick down to your departure he watches you grow closer to Hayden, ignoring Claire’s questioning looks as she tries to understand why you and Carmy aren’t together yet.

The time comes for your departure and he’s built up some false confidence about telling you the truth about everything but he chokes. Wishes you luck in college and mutters promises about keeping in touch, promises he knows are a lie as soon as he speaks them because he doesn’t think he could pretend to be happy for you knowing his own happiness lies with you.

a/n: gosh do i love making these two suffer, there’s some tidbits in here that i might expand on in a carmy interlude i have planned but only time will tell. enjoy!

#etherealising’s 1k celebration #carmen berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x you #carmy the bear x reader #carmy berzatto x you #the bear fic #the bear x reader #the bear x you #fem!reader #all i ever knew only you ₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊

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blindmagdalena · 6 months

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Although he's not truly a Nazi the way Stormfront was, we do see many times throughout the show that Homelander is a bit of racist, especially towards Hispanics. I mean, he doesn't like it when he hears Ryan speaking Spanish, and all his interactions with Supersonic were so, uh, uncomfy, to say the least.

HOWEVER, Homelander is willing to overlook anything when he gets emotionally involved with someone. Like how he's always rambling on about supes being the superior race while at the same time lowkey worshipping Madelyn.

How do you think he will react to dating a Latina? I can see him being a major asshole at the beginning, complaining about her putting on Latin music while in the penthouse, and cooking "weird food". But slowly and almost unwillingly he gets dragged into the culture.

Like, her brothers and cousins adopt him and suddenly he's the guy who goes to parrillada every Sunday to hang out with his amigos, playing domino and watching freaking soccer. They nickname him "El Casas" and teach him how to speak Spanish but the type that's only spoken deep in the guetto and has grandmothers clutching their pearls.

He starts watching Soap Operas with his girlfriend ironically but then gets weirdly into them to the point that he's crying his eyes out every other episode. He also starts calling her mami/mamita and his mommy kink gets like ten times worse. Which is fine by her because she's been calling him papi rey (king daddy) in her mind since the moment she laid eyes on him.

Once they finally go public, Homelander is all but embraced by the Latino community and it makes his ratings go through the roof because America's Dad speaking perfect Spanish and dancing Salsa in his girlfriend's livestreams is the best representation they've ever gotten. His fanbase drastically changes ofc. Stormfront would be rolling on her grave, I just know it.

Forgive me if this is weird, I'm just a sad latina who's dying for representation in Homelander x reader stories.

GIRL YOU GOT ME INVESTED. i was pulling out the popcorn by the end of this!! tell me you’re gonna write this! it’s not weird at all, and there’s nothing wrong with wanting to see yourself represented. i’ve had this conversation a couple of times, and i can guarantee you’re not alone in wanting this: there’s an audience waiting!

i always tag @irenadel in these (which I hope she isn’t tired of lol) because her fic Pygmalion is the only one that i know of so far that leans into this, so you should definitely check it out if you haven’t already. i happen to have insider info that she’s working on the next chapter 👀

really and truly though, it sounds to me like you have the makings of a killer fic lined up in your mind. you clearly have a solid understanding of Homelander’s psychology, too. i really think you could do something awesome with this! it’s important that people tell these stories, and i’m not always the right person to do that.

i would 100% read the heck out of this. 🖤

#darling anon #ask and you shall receive #homelander x reader

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babybluebex · 1 year

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𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐲 𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐝𝐞 | 𝐣𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐞 𝐛𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: series masterlist | a new preacher comes to your town, and you’re overwhelmed by him. you try to keep away from father james, but, the more you see him and the more he kisses your hand, the more you realize that staying away won’t be so easy. 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: jamie bower x fem!reader (rpf) 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 7k 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒: rpf (real person fiction), smut MINORS DNI, p in v sex, unprotected sex, loss of virginity, heavy breeding kink (the last line of the song is literally "i'm coming inside" are u kidding me), preacher kink, praise kink, religious themes, age gap (reader is early 20s, jamie is 34), jamie has a huge god complex omg 𝐀/𝐍: i’ve been working on this on again and off again since the music video came out in august, so take it before it drives me more insane than it already has lol

All morning, you could have sworn the preacher was looking at you.

It was a hot summer Sunday morning, one where you wore your nicest dress, just as your mother had told you to. You had forgotten how hot it got at home; after being at college for the past few years, you had gotten acclimated to the big city, and you couldn't remember what home was like.

To be honest, you had been dreading church. You had lied to your parents when you told them that you had kept up the habit while at college, and you despised the thought of wasting a good Sunday morning, even though you were on vacation. No matter what, you had gotten up and gotten dressed, and you were tailing behind your parents as they led the charge into the church.

The building itself was miniscule, surrounded by the desert on all sides, set apart from the rest of town. Your hometown was small, so small that people usually only lumped it in with the nearby biggest city and didn’t know that your town even existed on its own. But it did, and, in a town like that, everybody knew everybody else’s business.

Which made the preacher all that more confusing to you.

You could vaguely remember your mother telling you about the appearance of a new preacher at your church after the former pastor retired. It had been months ago, and you only remembered the name she had told you: James Bower. There were other details as well, something about him being young and British, but you didn’t really listen too closely to that phone call with your mother. She had been going on and on about church and you tended to tune that out.

“Mom,” you said quickly as you approached the church, seeing the door hanging open, welcoming everyone inside. Standing at the open door was a man, dressed in a black suit with a white shirt, a black hat covering his head and shading his face. He was older than you, but also younger than your parents, and he was shaking hands with every man that walked in front of him and setting kisses on the ladies’ cheeks. “Who is that?”

“Oh, that’s Father James,” your mother told you, sucking at the back of her teeth for a moment. “I told you about him, he replaced Father Nicholas.”

“Yeah, I remember you telling me,” you said softly. “He’s just… Younger than I thought.” And, by the flashes of a sharp jawline and deadly eyes that you could see as you approached, he was far more attractive than you would have taken a man like him for.

“He’s good,” your mother said carefully, as if she was controlling her tongue. “Cares about what he preaches about, really believes it.”

“That’s good,” you mumbled.

Finally, it was your turn to be greeted by the preacher, and you were struck uncharacteristically silent by him. His voice, a deep baritone timbre, got under your skin as he greeted your mother with a kiss, and he gave your father a firm handshake. “And who do we have here?” Father James Bower asked, his steel-blue eyes cutting you with his gaze.

You could tell instantly: this man would be trouble. “This is our daughter,” your mother said. “Visiting from college.”

“Ah, yes,” Father James said, his lips stretching into a smile. He took your hand in his, his skin rough and dry but lovely to feel, and he pressed his lips to your fingers, greeting you with an old-fashioned kiss. “Your mother told me stories about you.”

“Good stories, I hope?” you chuckled lightly, and Father James’ smile stayed as he dropped your hand.

“Only the best,” he told you.

“I’ve heard about you too, Father James,” you said, and you watched something flicker in his eyes, a quiet kind of recognition, although what he was recognizing, you had no idea.

“Good things?” he teased, and you smiled coyly at him. Two could play that game.

“Oh, no, awful things,” you said, and your mother laughed. “Just the worst.”

“I guess I’ll have to redeem myself,” Father James said. “I think Marjorie saved you lot a seat in the front; what a dear.” Your mother and father surged ahead, finding the seats that Father James indicated, but a quick and tight grip to your wrist kept you in place.

Father James held you back, his thumb smoothing nicely down your wrist, and he lifted your hand back to his mouth, kissing your fingers again. “And that’ll be Jamie to you, love,” he said softly, barely loud enough for you to hear. “You can drop that James business.”

“If you say so, Father” you said softly.

“Don’t call me that, either,” he said. “Just Jamie.”

“Jamie,” you said and you sighed out a deep breath. “I’ll keep it in mind.”

The service was odd. By all accounts, it was a perfectly good service, normal by all means, but something about the young and handsome Father James (or Jamie, as he told you) leading the sermon was different in a way that you couldn’t tell if you liked or not. Your mother was right— he obviously cared about what he preached, that morning’s work set on the sin of temptation, and he raised his voice and delivered his sermon with an expert hand.

But he was looking at you the whole time. He was borderline staring at you, and you shifted in your seat, wondering what was the matter. Of course, you could think the obvious— that he was thinking of you as he preached on temptation, you, the pretty young thing that had walked through his doors— but it felt wrong to even consider that Jamie would stoop that low. He was a man of God, no matter how unconventional he looked with his rings and gold bracelets and the tattoos on his middle fingers.

You got to speak with him further after the service, while everyone was leaving the house of God. You stepped outside with a shiver, despite the sticky heat, and your mother grabbed your hand as she told you that she was going to bring the car around. “Maybe you should go to talk to James,” she said. “He always looks so lonely, and it seems like he likes you.”

“Likes me?” you echoed.

“He didn’t kiss my hand twice,” your mother said with a shrug. “He didn’t ask me to call him Jamie.” You followed your mother’s gaze to just on the other side of the small wooden bridge, to a little garden, where Jamie stood, looking out of place in his all-black attire, looking down at the ground as his hand rubbed his chin.

“Are you encouraging me to find romance with your preacher?” you asked with a smile, and your mother rolled her eyes.

“Maybe not romance,” she said. “You’re too young for that. But friendship, definitely.”

You weren’t too young for that, you knew it, but you understood what she meant. Don’t fall in love with the preacher. That should be easy. You approached him quietly, not wanting to startle him if he was lost in thought, but he turned those devilish steel-blue eyes to you in an instant. “You,” he said lightly, dropping his hand.

“Me,” you shrugged. “I, umm, really liked your sermon.”

“Thank you, love,” Jamie said. A moment passed where he watched you, and he suddenly said, “You’re lying to your parents.”

“Excuse me?” you asked. “What do you mean—”

“You don’t go to church when you’re at university,” Jamie said quickly. “I can tell, you looked completely lost the whole time.”

“Is it that obvious?” you mumbled, wrapping your arms around yourself, and, when Jamie nodded, you muttered, “Fuck!”

“How long are you in town?” Jamie asked. His hands drifted to his pants, digging into his pocket, and he extracted a lean carton of cigarettes, along with a lighter. He was quick to push a cigarette in-between his lips, and you watched as he lit it up.

“Oh!” you said quickly. You were staring, just like he was. “Umm, just until Friday.”

“One more week,” Jamie laughed, blowing the smoke from his mouth. “I bet you can’t wait to go back to your friends and your little sinful ways, can you?”

“What makes you think I live in sin?” you asked. The exchange felt playful, not necessarily too mean-spirited, and Jamie grinned around his cigarette.

“I know girls like you,” he said. “You wear your little dresses and sing your little hymns, but it’s all a disguise to cover up the way you really live. I bet you’ve even kissed a boy, haven’t you?” He put on a shocked look, like he was truly disappointed, and it made you laugh.

“You’ve got me figured out,” you chuckled. Then, a boldness washed over you, and you couldn’t control the way you added, “And I’ve done a lot more than kiss a few boys.”

Jamie raised his dark eyebrows at you, plucking his cigarette from between his lips. “You have?” he asked. “Anything you need to repent for? I am a preacher, after all, I can help.”

“No, nothing like that. I just…” You shrugged, and mumbled, “Okay. You’ve got me. I haven’t done anything like that.”

“Why did you say you did?” Jamie asked, his eyebrows knitting together in confusion.

“I don’t know,” you mumbled. “To make you like me, I guess. Guys like girls who know about that stuff, right?”

“Oh, little lamb,” Jamie cooed softly. “I used to run around with some bad guys when I was your age, I’ve got the marks to prove it, and I had my fill of girls who were trying to impress me. I like you more, knowing that you’re a good girl who hasn’t done anything of that sort.” He smoked for a moment, blowing it at the ground, and he added, “You should be going.”

“Why?” you asked. “Have I done something wrong?”

“No, you didn’t,” Jamie said. “But I might.”

“What do you mean?” you asked.

“I really want to kiss you,” Jamie told you, and your heart slammed against your ribcage at his confession.

“Is that…” you began. “Is that allowed?”

“Allowed, yes,” Jamie said slowly, as if choosing his words carefully. “But, frowned upon? Very much so.”

“Why?” you asked. “Is it me?”

“No, darling, it’s not you,” Jamie said. “I’m a man of God. I can’t just kiss any girl, I need to have intentions about it, and my intentions… My thoughts about you… Are less than worthy of a man like myself.”

Lightning rocked your belly, and you took a step backwards. “Oh,” you said. “I understand. Umm… Yeah, it’ll be good if I leave.” Jamie nodded silently in agreement, finishing up his cigarette, and you mumbled, “Will I see you on Wednesday? At night service? I bet my parents will make me go.”

“Yes, you will,” Jamie replied. He hesitated for a moment, his mouth open, obviously wanting to say something, and he finally added, “Wear something white.”

“Why?”

Jamie looked at you with those paralyzing blue eyes, and he said, “You’re as beautiful as an angel. You should dress like one.”

You hardly got any sleep that night. Between bouts of nightmares— nothing you could remember but left you with a nasty feeling when you woke up hyperventilating— you were plagued by the idea of Jamie.

Every time you closed your eyes, you could only see him. His blond hair, his blue eyes, his plush lips, that smile that bordered goodness and badness. As you laid awake in your small bed, the tiny one you had grown up in, you wondered what he was doing. Was he asleep, as you too should be? Maybe he was up, working on a sermon. A selfish part of you allowed yourself to think that, perhaps, he was awake, thinking of you.

That idea made your thighs tingle. You knew how terrible it was to think of your preacher like that, but he had said it himself. His intentions with you weren’t worthy of a man of God. Jamie had basically confessed to wanting to kiss you and maybe even more, and you hadn’t been brave enough to challenge him on it. You regretted your timidness, and you buried your head under your pillow as you tried to get any sleep at all.

This routine continued for days. Nightmares, then Jamie. Jamie, then more nightmares. You didn’t see him during the day, so you were left with only the memory of your two tiny interactions. You could remember the way his blond hair had swayed in the wind as he smoked, the faint hint of his cologne carrying on the air as he kissed your hand; you couldn’t escape him. You knew that, the next time you saw him, you had to tell him.

Thankfully, you didn’t have to wait long to see Jamie. Wednesday night came around quickly, and you tore apart your closet looking for the little white sundress that you knew you still had from when you were in high school. You’re as beautiful as an angel, his accent rang in your head as you tugged the dress over your head, and you sighed at yourself in the mirror. The irony wasn’t lost on you— dressing like an angel, yet still tempting the preacher. You wondered what he would do when he saw you; would he try to kiss you again? Maybe he wouldn’t do anything, and he would keep up the game of cat and mouse that you had. Honestly, you liked it. Being wanted was nice, but there was something fun about being desired and not being allowed to act on those desires. It made everything sweeter.

Your parents didn’t say anything as you exited your room, grabbing a thin sweater just in case it was cold in the sanctuary (it never was, but your mother urged you to come prepared). The car ride was quiet, and your hands shook as your father parked in the small lot, steadying yourself for meeting Jamie.

He stood at the door to the church again, greeting everyone as they came in. He wore a dark wide-brimmed hat, his usual suit, the shirt buttons done all the way up to his slender throat. He looked cool and smooth, and he grinned like a cat when he saw you. You had never felt more like a mouse in your life, and you gratefully took his hand into yours.

“My, oh my,” Jamie said, his eyes scanning your frame. You should have felt uncomfortable under his gaze, but you didn’t, despite the obviously hungry look in his light eyes. Even if he hadn't told you about his intentions, it wouldn't be hard to figure out why he was looking at you. “Who is this vision in white I see before me?”

Your face went warm, and you managed to mutter out, “Thank you, Father.” Jamie did his usual kisses to your fingers, which only served to make your face go even hotter. You felt like everyone was looking at you but somehow, Jamie’s soft eyes soothed you. It seemed like nothing bad could happen so long as you were in Jamie's arms. Knowing this, you tugged him close by his hand and pressed a gentle kiss to his smooth cheek, and you heard him draw in a quick breath at your meager affection.

“Thank you, little lamb,” Jamie told you. His cheeks tinged just a shade of pink, not even enough to really call it a blush— if you didn’t know any better, you would have attributed it to the heat and dry air. “I’d like to speak to you after the service, if that’s possible.”

“Of course,” you told him. “Am I in trouble?”

“Oh, no,” Jamie said. “Quite the opposite. I’d like to discuss our relationship; or where I’d like it to go, that is.”

You swallowed thickly, nervously, and you said, “Alright. I’ll see you then.”

Like on Sunday, Jamie’s sermon was beautiful. He spoke with power and grace, and you could hardly believe it when the end of it came. You could watch him speak for hours and never get bored of it. You stayed sitting in the pew as your parents stood, and your mother furrowed her eyebrows in confusion. “Are you alright?” she asked, and you picked at the bottom of your dress.

“Yeah,” you replied. “I’m alright. Jamie just said he wanted to talk to me after the sermon.”

“Oh,” your mother said. “What about?”

“I’m not sure,” you lied. “I think he might try to ask me on a date.”

Your mother ground her back teeth; you could see her annoyance. “Make good decisions with him,” she said. “Don’t let him be let astray.”

“I won’t, Mom,” you told her, your stomach twisting. You knew that you absolutely were leading him astray, but maybe he had a good plan on how to keep your relationship pure. Based on the way he was talking to you on Sunday, though, there was no way you could stay pure with him. “Jamie is good, I won’t do anything bad to him.”

Jamie stood at his altar as everyone slowly filed out, making kind conversation with the people who approached him, and you watched him as you chewed on your bottom lip. He looked so good, and you crossed your legs as you waited. Finally, the last person left, the heavy wooden doors banging closed behind them, and Jamie turned his gaze towards you.

Silently, he stepped away from the altar and towards you, the heavy heels of his boots clicking against the creaky wood floors. “You look beautiful,” Jamie told you as he sat down next to you, pulling off his hat and ruffling up his blond hair.

You nodded anxiously. “You do too,” you told him. “Very handsome.”

“Thank you, little lamb,” Jamie said. “Now, I wanted to speak to you about… Us. I think it’s obvious that I can’t go on being polite and nice with you.”

“Is it?” you asked. “I mean, you said you wanted to kiss me—“

“You sweet girl,” Jamie said with a little pout. “Did you really not know? I want to ruin you.”

“Oh,” you said sharply. “I-I mean, I figured, but I didn’t want to say anything and assume a-and then make a fool out of myself.”

“No fools here,” Jamie said. His hand touched your thigh, his hand impossibly warm against you, and you laid a gentle hand on top of his, letting your fingers nudge his. “I like knowing what you’re thinking. Tell me what’s on your mind.”

“Honestly?” you asked with a sigh, and Jamie nodded. “How badly I wish you would kiss me.”

Quickly, he leaned into you, and he pressed his lips against yours. The kiss was gentle and simple, and you leaned into him as his hand raised to gently touch your cheek. His rings were cool against your skin, and you pressed yourself closer to him as he held you carefully. He tasted like cigarettes and warm skin, all man and all Jamie, and he gently smoothed his teeth against your bottom lip, biting just enough to make you smile, before he fell away from you. He didn’t pull away completely, though, touching his forehead against yours and taking a deep breath. “Good,” he whispered. “Now I’d like to do something else.”

“What is that?” you asked.

“I think I’d like to make love to you,” Jamie told you. “Only if you want that, though.”

You nodded quickly. “I want that,” you told him. “But, um, I’m a little nervous.”

“Because you’ve never done it before?” Jamie asked, and you nodded quickly. “We don’t have to. I’d be happy to take you to dinner and drop you off back at your house, leaving you completely intact.”

“Or…” you started. “You could fuck me here and now, and give into temptation.”

“Oh, I’d love to do that,” Jamie said softly. He tilted his head, as if contemplating kissing you again. “I’d really love to… Tell me to stop and I will.”

“I won’t,” you breathed, and you met him for another kiss. This one was instantly more, instantly hungrier, his warm tongue snaking between your lips and into your mouth as he held you close. His hands grabbed your waist and he tugged you close, and he broke the kiss to take a deep breath. His hands smoothed down to your thighs, and he pulled you into his lap, your legs parting wide to envelop his hips. He pulled at your pretty sundress as he kissed you again, and you carded your fingers through his hair as he claimed you again, chasing you into a hungry kiss.

Your hips rocked down onto his as your knees pressed into the hard wood of the pew, aching just a little, and Jamie’s hand pressed into your ass and shoved your hips down onto him as his bucked up into you. You felt his hardness through his trousers, pressing up into you, and you gasped at the feeling. “How long’s it been?” you whispered, and Jamie pressed his forehead to yours again before stealing another quick kiss.

“Years,” he mumbled. “S’nice not to have to do this myself.”

“You masturbate?” you asked with a giggle. “Naughty preacher.”

You yelped as his hand came down onto your ass, spanking you hard, the sound of it reverberating through the empty sanctuary. “I’m a grown man,” he growled through gritted teeth. “I have needs. As of Sunday, though, I’ve been insatiable.”

“Lucky me,” you smiled, and Jamie gave you a half-smile, more of a smirk than anything. “You gonna fuck me hard?”

“Keep talking to me like that and I just might,” Jamie chuckled. “You have no idea what I’ve imagined as I fucked my hand. It’s like I told you, I want to ruin you.”

“Ruin me,” you begged him, leaning forward and kissing his smooth neck. Your hands fell from his hair and down to his shirt, and you started to unbutton his shirt. The more skin you exposed, the more ink you saw, and you gaped at him as you smoothed your hands down his shaved chest. He was covered in tattoos, all on his chest and sternum and belly, and your mouth watered at the sight of them. “Oh my God…”

“I told you, I used to run around with a bad crowd,” Jamie told you, his hands pressing upwards into your dress. “Rock music and girls, it was… But this is better. You are better than all of that.”

“You flatter me,” you laughed. “You haven’t had me yet.”

Jamie shrugged. “I know a good fuck when I see one,” he said. “Old habits die hard, I guess.”

“Stop it,” you mumbled as you blushed, and Jamie grabbed handfuls of your ass, rucking your dress up past your hips. “What made you want to join the church?”

“I grew up going,” Jamie told you as your hands fell to his pants, playing with his belt but not undoing it. Your heart beat deep inside your chest at the prospect of undressing him and seeing his cock, a sort of anxious glee making your heart race, and you listened intently as Jamie told you his story. “Me, my brothers… But when I was young, your age, I rebelled against it and had a sinful lifestyle, all of that that I told you about… But I got tired of that. I got tired of existing just for pleasure and sin, and I turned back to the church to guide me. But then you— You came into my life just a few days ago, and I already know that you’re what I was made for. I was made to guide you, to help you… I’m not supposed to be here like this, but I can pray for forgiveness for this one night.”

“I’ve never believed in this sort of stuff,” you admitted. “But maybe, with your guidance, I can find a way to come back home.”

“I’d do anything for you,” Jamie said. “Now, little lamb, I need to be inside you.”

“Need you too,” you mumbled, and you finally resolved yourself to open his pants. You undid his belt and tugged it out of the loops, and your fingers shakily went for the button and zipper, pulling it down. “Jamie, I’m a little nervous.”

“That’s okay,” Jamie said. “That makes me feel better, I’m terrified. But I need you more than I’m scared of you.”

“Me too,” you told him. You took a deep breath and reached your hand down into his trousers, and your hand was quickly filled by his hard cock. He felt thick and heavy and hot, and you pulled him from out of his pants to get a proper look at him. His cock was flushed red, uncut, with a bead of creamy pre-cum already leaking from his tip. “Oh, wow.”

“Like what you see?” Jamie chuckled. “It’s been a while since I’ve had a girl all mooney-eyed over my cock. I almost missed it.”

“It looks really…” you started. “Umm… Big. Will it fit?”

Jamie laughed, his big smile on display for you. “Will it fit?” he repeated. “Of course it will. I’ll make it.”

Your skin prickled at his words, and his hands moved from your ass to your front, nudging your panties aside with his slender fingers. His rough fingertips slipped against your skin, feeling you and the little bit of wetness that you had leaking from you. You had been wet ever since Jamie had first kissed you, and Jamie leaned up and gave you another quick kiss as his fingers danced at your cunt. “Are you ready, little lamb?” Jamie asked, and you nodded quickly before he sank one, long finger inside you.

You gasped, grabbing hard at his shoulders to keep yourself upright, and Jamie leaned in and kissed at your neck as his finger stroked you from the inside. “Jamie!” you squealed, and he grinned into your neck.

“Does that feel good, little lamb?” he whispered, and you nodded, digging your nails into his skin. “Good, good girl. Make it hurt, baby.”

“Jamie,” you groaned as he withdrew from you for a moment before pushing back in, fucking you slowly on his finger. “Want more, God.”

Jamie continued to kiss your neck as he pushed in a second finger, the stretch of your pussy around him making you whimper in pain and pleasure. Make it hurt, he said. It certainly did, but you loved it. You looked down at yourself, and you drank in the sight of his tattooed fingers plunging deep inside you, the cross on his middle finger shining with your wet. It was so sinful, but Jamie was right; you could pray for forgiveness and God would grant it. Maybe you could even pray together.

“Need you,” you moaned and worked your hips down onto his fingers, taking him deeper. Your body craved him in a way you had never felt before, hot and needy, and you squirmed in his arms as you tried to get more of him.

“It’ll hurt if I fuck you now,” Jamie told you, and you kissed him deep, tasting every inch of his mouth. He grunted a bit, then tugged away from your mouth, and he pulled his fingers from you, pressing his hands to either side of your face. “Darling, I know you’re needy, such a sweet little thing you are, but I’ll fuck you when I’m ready. And I’m not ready yet.”

You pouted and whined, and Jamie pouted back at you, mocking you. “I know, little lamb,” he said. “But I want to take my time with you and savor my sin.”

“Savor your sin,” you scoffed. “Please, Jamie, I’m ready!”

“I like the way you say my name,” Jamie mumbled, as if he were really thinking about it, and his hands danced in your hair, pushing it back from your face. “If I put my cock in you now, you mustn't get upset at how quickly I finish… It’s been years for me.”

“I won’t,” you said softly. “I won’t be upset with you.”

“Alright,” Jamie agreed. “Open your legs a little wider, you’re gonna ride my cock.”

You did as he told you, parting your thighs even more severely than before, and he grabbed tight at your hips. He guided your hips with his strong grip, his azure eyes watching your every move, and you held his shoulders tightly as he touched the burning head of his cock to your quivering hole. “You ready?” he asked, and you nodded eagerly, your belly flipping. It was really about to happen; you were really about to give your virginity to your preacher. And, God, you had never wanted anything so badly. “Put your full weight on me, don’t be afraid to.”

“Okay,” you agreed, and Jamie continued his guidance, pulling you down further and further, his hot cock sliding between your sticky folds and into you. The first intrusion punched the breath from your lungs, and you gasped, and Jamie smiled wickedly. This man was no angel; he was a devil, maybe even the Devil, come to corrupt you and bring you into his palace of sin. You loved the hot flame in your chest, and you sealed your fate with a kiss, biting his plush bottom lip.

“My sweet lamb,” Jamie mumbled, pulling his lips from your teeth. “Feels like heaven inside you… Fuck, this is just what I wanted.”

Without warning, Jamie bucked his hips up into you, burying himself up to his balls inside your cunt, and you gasped loudly at the sudden fullness. You had never realized how empty you felt until you were full of him, and suddenly the world seemed to snap into sharp perspective. Your life had been dull without him, not so shiny and bright; your life, you, had been empty. It wasn’t God’s love that could fix this feeling; it was Jamie’s love. Intentions be damned, you needed him. You would get on your knees and worship your lover and, knowing him, he would relish the prayers of his name and make you pray louder.

“Jamie,” you whimpered, hanging your head and hiding in his warm neck. He smelled good, like the musk of a man and cigarettes and cologne, and your cunt throbbed around him. He was unmoving inside of you, letting you adjust to the size and feel of him, and you tugged at the blond ends of his hair. If you looked closely, really studied him, you saw that there was a hint of mousy-brown peeking from his scalp. Dyed hair; not what he seemed, a wolf in sheeps’ clothing, intent on devouring innocent little lambs. “Jamie!”

“That’s it, little lamb,” Jamie whispered, kissing the side of your face as he grabbed hard at your ass, surely leaving bruises in his wake. “Who’s fucking you, love?”

“You!” you sobbed. You felt tears prick at your eyes, and Jamie’s controlling ways came back, tugging you up on his cock until only the head of him remained inside you, then he pushed you back down, burying himself deep inside you once more. “Jamie, God!”

“Which one?” Jamie growled in your ear. “Me or Him?”

“You!” you cried again. “Always you! I’ll always choose you.”

“Good girl,” Jamie told you, and his hand landed on your ass in a quick smack. It stung, but it only heightened your sinful pleasure, and you moaned as you allowed your tears to fall. “Confess your sins to your god, tell me what you’ve done.”

“I lie,” you whimpered. “I cheat, I steal. I’ve done so bad, please forgive me.”

“Good fuckin’ girl,” Jamie grumbled in your ear, and he bit your neck, sucking hard on the sensitive skin. You knew he was leaving his mark, dark and ugly, on your skin, but, for someone as beautiful as he was, it would be alright. Your ground your hips down onto him, feeling his cock throb inside you, and his hands fell from your hips to stretch along the top of the pew, pressing his fingernails into the polished wood. His head tilted back just so, exposing the smooth and pale column of his throat, and he moaned softly, lightly. “Just like that, love. You’ll make me cum quick like this… I’ll forgive you, darling, you’ve done no wrong in my eyes. All the best lambs are led astray at times, it takes a powerful shepard to bring them back.”

“And that’s you?” you sniffled.

Jamie’s head whipped up, his fallen eyes snapping open, and he examined your face, the tears streaming down your cheeks and your sputtery lips. You gasped out a sob, still riding his cock, and Jamie touched his hands to your arms, pulling them around his neck. Your front pressed against his, the straps of your dress falling from your shoulders, and Jamie laid a gentle kiss on your spit-covered mouth. “That’s me, lamb,” he said. “So long as you pray to me, I’ll lead you where you should be.”

“Jamie,” you keened into his warm hands, feeling them explore your body, up your dress and down the front of it. Even his fingers were greedy, and you balked at the touch of him to that special nerve, sending shocks down your spine. “Jamie! Oh my God, fuck!”

“Keep saying my name,” he said. “You’re doing so well for me. When we’re done here, I’ll take you home, have you pray to me all night. Would you like that? Just you and your god, all alone, worshipping me as I worship your body?”

“Yes!” you sobbed. His cock was so deep inside you, driving you wild, and you squeezed your arms around his neck to draw him into a kiss. Now you were the greedy one, chasing him with a million kisses, and Jamie smiled his winning grin.

“Already devoted,” he said. “You’ll never stray very far again, will you?”

“Not as long as you fuck me like this,” you told him, and his fingers continued their harsh circles on your clit. Your cunt spasmed at the feeling, your entire body unsure what to do with itself, and you could taste your oncoming orgasm. You could tell that your lover, your god, was close too, and he gnashed his teeth as he pinched your thigh, making your legs open wider.

“I’ll fuck you better,” he said. “In bed, I’ll kiss you all over and really worship you, I’ll take my time with you. Fuck, sweet thing, I’m cumming inside, I have to.”

“Please,” you begged him. “Give it to me, please, I need it.”

“I’ll worship you all night,” Jamie whispered, controlling your body as you rode him. His hot cock was heavy as he fucked in and out, the drag of him making you feel lightheaded, and you sniffled up your tears as Jamie whispered in your ear. “You’d like that, won’t you? Just you and me…” His eyes squeezed shut, his eyebrows lifting in ecstasy, and, when he spoke next, he was breathless. “I’m cumming, lamb, I’m—”

You felt his release coat your walls, your throbbing cunt milking him for every drop, and you moaned with him, singing your holy hymn. His fingers rubbed you through his orgasm, drawing you to your own finish, and your hips stuttered as you squealed and, for the first time, came. The hot lightning prodded at your thighs and belly and the base of your spine, and you gushed around him, covering you and him with your release. Your breaths came in short gasps as you tried to control your quivering body, and Jamie held you close, matching his breathing to yours. His inked chest was slick with sweat as he pressed himself against you, and you shucked off his jacket and unbuttoned shirt to get to his bare skin. Jamie laughed at you and smoothed his hand down your hair, and he kissed your forehead.

“Good, good,” he whispered. “Such a good girl. Come here, you’re just shaking like a little leaf.”

Jamie’s grip was tight around you as he held you, his cock now soft inside you, but he made no move to pull out. “Not exactly immaculate,” he mumbled, and he placed a kiss below your ear. “But it’ll do.”

“Yes,” you gasped. “Oh, God, I love you.”

“I love you so much,” Jamie whispered. “My sweet lamb. Come home with me, please, let me worship you.”

“Of course,” you said. “Anything for you. Only…”

“What?” Jamie asked. "What's wrong?"

“I think my parents are waiting for me,” you mumbled. “I told them that you were wanting to speak with me and nothing more.”

“Hmm,” Jamie huffed quickly. “What a talk, huh?”

You giggled, and Jamie helped you up, your legs shaking as you stood. He fell from inside you, his soft cock just as beautiful as him hard, and you both busied yourself with fixing yourselves back into a presentable state. Jamie replaced his wide-brimmed hat to hide his messy hair, but there was no hiding what he had done to you. Bites on your neck, marks on your skin, bruises on your thighs. If this was what worship with him was like, it might be worth it to invest in a good painkiller.

“Jamie?” you said softly, touching your tender neck, and he stood to his full height, examining you. He tsk-ed his tongue a few times as his fingers touched your neck as well, and he reached for your abandoned sweater, helping you pull it on.

“It won’t hide them,” Jamie started. “But it’ll do.” His shirt was unbuttoned halfway down his chest, the solid black heart on his chest visible through the gap, and you smiled at the thought of him. Your handsome man, your God, your inked and pierced and tatted rock-and-roll God. “I don’t mean to scare you with this, lamb, but if you think that this life would suit you, we could… Well, let’s say that you might not be leaving on Friday.”

“No?” you asked. “I’d be staying here with you, I suppose?”

“Only if you’d like,” Jamie said quickly. “If you want, you can go back to your life in the big city and forget about this small town, it’s what I would do.”

“But what if I don’t want that?” you asked. “What if I want to be… I don’t know, your muse? Your Mother Mary? What is a simple girl to a god?”

“You can be whatever you wish to be,” Jamie told you. “I’d marry you right now, in fact, to keep you. But I guess we should probably try to at least act like we’re courting like a normal couple instead of getting married within three days of knowing each other.”

“But couples back then used to do that all the time,” you said quickly. The thought of marriage excited you, wearing his ring and carrying his name and maybe even his child; it was all so invigorating. “My grandfather proposed to my grandmother after a week of meeting her.”

“A week does not three days make, little lamb,” Jamie chuckled. “How about this? We’re together, using whatever title you’d like and makes you comfortable, and, after enough time, we can tell the church that we’re getting married.”

“How much time is that?” you asked.

“Enough time for those hickies to fade, at least,” Jamie said, pressing his thumb to one of the marks on your neck. “Does that sound nice?”

“Yes,” you said. “It does.”

Jamie walked you to the front door of the church and he opened the door for you. You saw your parents’ car idling in the small lot, all alone, but, before you could say anything, Jamie pressed his palm to your cheek and kissed you gently. Only his lips pressed to yours, no snaking tongue or wandering hands, and you gasped gently. “Jamie, my parents can see—“

“This was our first kiss,” he told you quickly. “We spoke about how you wished to be closer to God, and I asked you to dinner, and I couldn’t control my urges and kissed you. Now, I’ll make a face and turn away, regretting what I’ve done.”

“What an actor I’ve got,” you giggled, and Jamie smiled against your mouth. The kiss finally broke, and Jamie smoothed down his jacket on his body as he assumed the anxious energy of a man who wasn’t sure of his actions. “When will I see you next?” you asked.

“Tonight,” Jamie said. “For dinner. I’ll pick you up at your house.”

“Alright,” you said. “Umm… Goodbye, my God.”

“Goodbye, my lamb,” Jamie said, and you felt his steely blue gaze on you as you turned and made quick time to your car, sliding into the backseat.

“So,” your mother said slowly as you slammed the car door shut. “You and Father James…”

“He said he could see me struggling with my faith,” you lied quickly, your neck burning with the marks he gave you. If you craned your head and looked at yourself in the rearview mirror, you could even see the red patches that would bloom to purple overnight. “And he helped me pray.”

“And what else?”

You swallowed thickly. “He asked me to dinner,” you said carefully.

“Did he?” your mother asked smoothly. “Anything other than that kiss?”

“I-I didn’t ask for him to,” you said quickly. “He just… Did. And he apologized for it.”

“Are you still going to dinner with him?” your mother asked, and you nodded quickly. “Be careful. Father James might be a holy man, but he’s still just a man. I just don’t want you to get hurt.”

“I won’t get hurt,” you said. “Not so long as I have him by my side.”

#jamie bower #jamie campbell bower #jamie bower x reader #jamie campbell bower x reader #jamie bower rpf #jamie campbell bower rpf #jamie bower x you #jamie bower x y/n #jamie campbell bower x you #jamie campbell bower x y/n

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cheesysoup-arlo · 2 months

Text

Cady’s Cousin (pt.2)

(pt. 1)/(pt. 3)/(pt. 4)

A/N: sorry this is mostly like “texting” also the relationship/couples I have in here are (karen and gretchen), (cady and regina), later I’ll add (janis and reader) and maybe (aaron and kevin g) idk maybe lol I won’t be tagging the ships since they’re not the main ship I hope y’all liked this lol

(Sunday 8:30pm)

*Cady created a group chat*

Cads 🦁: hey guys I made this group chat so (Y/N) can get to know you guys, you guys can get to know them, and just for fun 👍

???(1): aw Cady that’s so sweet, this is Aaron by the way lol

(Y/N): can everyone send their name please 🙏

???(2): karen 💕

???(3): Beyoncé

???(4): that’s Damian ^, this is janis 👾

Damian🌟: janis you’re no fun this is homophobia

Janis👾: yeah I hate the gays 🙄

karen💕: ??? u hat me 😞

Janis👾: no not you karen just Damian

karen💕: o okie 😽

???(5): the hottest bitch you’ll meet

(Y/N): hi Regina

Cads🦁: Y/N!!!

(Y/N): cads chill I know she’s off limits

Regina👛: aw baby you’re so cute when you’re jealous

Janis👾: barf 🤮

(Y/N): 😭😭😭

(Y/N): wait where’s Gretchen?

karen💕: sleping 😴

Damian🌟: Important question! Y/n are you one of them queers?

(Y/N): I would be offended if you thought I wasn’t

*damian has named group chat “fruit loops”*

Janis👾: I-

(Y/N): oh that’s-

Damian🌟: OK STOP BEING HOMOPHOBIC TO THE GAY BLACK MAN IM A MINORITY HERE

Regina👛: how’s everyone feeling about school tomorrow? I’m kind of excited mostly because the school cheese fries just hit different yk?

Cads🦁: I’m excited too but for classes I picked an extra math class this year

(Y/N): ha nerd 🤓

(Y/N): I’m nervous lol but at least I have you guys

Janis👾: I’m not excited I hate school it keeps me from doing more important things

(Y/N): like what?

Janis👾: sleeping

Damian🌟: I’m excited I decided that I’m gonna take the new senior only theater class which is a little out of my comfort zone but I’ll manage

Aaron🧍‍♂️: I was supposed to be graduated last year so I’m not excited at all

(Y/N): YOU GOT HELD BACK?!?! WHAT?!?!

Aaron🧍‍♂️: yeah I failed English and history so I couldn’t graduate

Cads🦁: it’s ok Aaron now you get to be with us for another year 😊

(Sunday 11:50pm) fruit loops

(Y/N): guys I can’t sleep

Janis👾: same I’ve been lying very still and it’s not working

Damian🌟: janis did you take the melatonin I gave you?

Janis👾: yeah but it’s not working 😔

Damian🌟: welp that’s a you problem then

(Monday 2:30am) fruit loops

(Y/N): do you think I can fit 40 mini marshmallows in my mouth?

Janis👾: oh absolutely

(Y/N): omg ur still awake too?

Janis👾: yeah lol

(Y/N): I just put 35 mini marshmallows in my mouth idk if I can fit more

Janis👾: if you fit all 40 I’ll give you 5 bucks

(Y/N): challenge accepted

(Monday 2:37am) fruit loops

(Y/N): I fit all 40 and almost choked lmao

Janis👾: lmao nice your $5 will be given at school

(Y/N): yippieeee

(Y/N): dude I literally can’t sleep

Janis👾: wanna call? That’s what me and Damian used to do before he got a good sleep schedule lmao

(Y/N): um sure me and my friend back home used to do that too

*incoming call from Janis👾*

“Hi” you whispered suddenly feeling a little more tired with her company even if it was only over the phone “hey” janis said with a small yawn “nice shirt” you say seeing her Lego movie shirt “oh um thanks” she says with a laugh “so what’s up?” “Let’s take turns asking each other questions until we fall asleep” you say with a little yawn “hmm ok favorite color?” She asks you “ooo definitely (your favorite color), how about you?” “Hmm either green or purple” “ooo good choice, hmm hobbies?” “I sing and write a little but I guess art even though I don’t consider it a hobby it’s more of a lifestyle” “art? Can I see some?” “Yeah sure I’ll show you some stuff tomorrow” you both yawn “shit it’s 3 am” janis sighs “fuck” you chuckle sleepy “um I’m getting tired” janis says with a tired laugh “me too” you say starting to close your eyes “good night (y/n)” “good night Janis” you say with a yawn falling asleep as she hangs up

Monday 5:30am

“Pst…(y/n)? You gotta wake up” your cousin said lightly shaking you “ugh five more minutes” you mumbled “no come on up you gotta get ready” she insisted, you got up against your body begging to go back to sleep “good morning sleepy head” Cady said with an enthusiastic smile “cads what time is it?” “5:33” “doesn’t school start at like 8:30?” “No it starts at 8 and I wanted to make sure you had enough time to get ready and have breakfast, breakfast is very important” “uh huh…mm thanks cads” you say with a yawn deciding to get up and look through your clothes “meet me in my room when you’re done getting dressed, ok?” Cady said “um ok?” You said grabbing your favorite jeans and shirt then going to look for your jacket as your cousin left

(Monday 5:40 am) fruit loops

Gretchen🌷: good morning everyone soooo so sorry for not texting yesterday I went to bed early

Regina👛: it’s ok Gretch don’t worry about it

Regina👛: also damn I think Janis and (y/n) our new insomniac duo

(Y/N): unfortunately yes I’m so fucking tired also good morning Gretchen

Aaron🧍‍♂️: why are you guys up so early it’s not even six yet? I literally woke up because of all the buzzing

(Y/N): cads woke me up :(

Regina👛: my skincare and makeup routine take like and hour

Gretchen🌷: I like mornings ☀️

You finished getting ready and headed over to Cady’s room like she asked you to. “What’s up cads?” “Eee (y/n) ok so first of all how are you feeling about your first day” “a little nervous and tired I only got like 2 and a half hours of sleep” “oh goodness (y/n) why didn’t you sleep sooner?”cady says concerned “Because I wasn’t tired?” You half joked. Cady hands you a paper. “That’s a map of the school the way Janis sees it she gave it to me on my first day I feel like it could be helpful for you” “oh um wow thanks cads” you say giving her a half hug. Your aunt knocks on Cady’s open door “hey girls good morning” “good morning mom” Cady says enthusiastically, you yawn “morning” you say with a small smile “I’ve got to head to work but I’m assuming you girls have a ride?” “Yeah Aaron’s gonna pick us up I think?” Cady answers “alright I love you two, be on your best behavior and call me or text me if you need me” your aunt says as she leaves “bye” you and Cady say at the same time. You head to the kitchen and pour yourself a bowl of cereal

(Monday 6:40am) fruit loops

Regina👛: my mom is doing a coffee run what does everyone want?

Damian🌟: iced coffee, oat milk, vanilla

Gretchen🌷: just the usual for me and Karen

Janis👾: iced coffee, oat milk, lavender

(Y/N): um (your coffee order) please

Cads🦁: can you just get me a tea?

Regina👛: yeah of course I’ll get your favorite

Aaron🧍‍♂️: regular coffee, cream and sugar please

Regina👛: ok also who’s picking up who today? I can get Karen and Gretchen as usual

Aaron🧍‍♂️: my mom said I don’t have car privileges this week so I can’t give anyone a ride

Damian🌟: I can get janis for sure but if anyone else needs a ride I can get them too

Cads🦁: can you give (Y/N) and I a ride please we’re ready whenever you are 👍

Damian🌟: yeah I’ll be over in 10 then we’ll go get Janis because I know she’s not ready yet

Janis👾: I would be offended but it’s true

Regina👛: alright meet at our usual spot?

Aaron🧍‍♂️: 👍

Damian🌟: sounds good see y’all soon

#janis ‘imi’ike #regina george #cady heron #gretchen wieners #damian hubbard #karen shetty #aaron samuels #mean girls 2024

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mmmeto · 3 months

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Tummy flu this weekend 🤢

Would share audio that I took but it’s not really anything good, to be honest. Either way, figured you guys might wanna hear the run-down of this weekend’s stomach bug.

I believe it started Friday night with a bit of an upset stomach. My head was hurting too, so I brushed it off as a lack of water or too much fried food (I work fast food, so free meal = fried shit lol). Woke up Saturday morning feeling twice as bad, and my belly had gone from hurting and upset to outright queasy. I had a full 8-hour shift starting early morning to mid-afternoon, so I simply chugged some water and worked through it. At that point, I didn’t think I was actually sick, but… well, I should’ve.

Cue the end of my shift. I ate a little something afterwards because why not, right? Went home and went straight to bed, since I was pretty exhausted. Woke up a few hours later and felt very, very nauseous. Dinner was made by family, so I tried to eat some. God, there’s where my mistake was.

The next few hours were pretty rough, to be honest. I was lying in bed with an awful, gurgly belly, gas buildup and nausea both really bad. A few times I got up for the bathroom, but the most that ever happened was some awful gas that did little to make me feel better. It was so embarrassing, sitting there and hugging my belly, hoping things would settle.

Things didn’t settle well after that, and all morning yesterday (Sunday) I was feeling suuuper rough. Lots of diarrhea, a bit of acid reflux or vomit, not really sure which. Stomach was a mess, couldn’t stop burping or… y’know, otherwise. I was in and out of the bathroom, lying in bed for most of it, too. The trash bin by my bedside didn’t really get used, but boy, was I glad to have it there just in case.

Woke up this morning feeling alright, thankfully. Managed to eat a bit and have been drinking water, and I haven’t had much issue. At least, nothing worth mentioning. I think the worst of it’s over with, but man… it was a rough go for a bit there.

Not sure if I’ll have audio to post, gonna have to relook at what I’ve got and see what can be done with it. It’s not even that good of quality, which is disappointing, so we’ll see.

#emeto #emetophilia #irl emeto #irl vomit #stomach flu #stomach bug

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t-thedigitaldiary · 2 months

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Sincerely yours,

(part 1)

author’s note: heey,everyone.Basically this the first fiction i’ve ever written and I’m pretty new to this platform so I’m not entirely familiar with how to make my posts pretty but I truly hope you like it :).Also,for the hashtags,this work of fiction is not at all related to Ellie Williams (although the aesthetic is inspired by her in a.u fictions) nor the tlou world.I just really wanna be a part of the tlou fandom in here,since i will be posting related artworks later on and bc im new,i thought this was a nice way to start :).Last but not least,this piece is extremely personal to me and truly reflects my feelings.Anyways,hope you enjoy!

Warnings!: poor mental health condition (mention of depression multiple times & trauma,not in great detail though),violence (basically someone being hit with a water bottle lol)

Sunday afternoon. Ugh, you hated Sunday afternoons. Not because, like most people, you hated the upcoming Mondays, but because it was dull. Extremely dull, empty. You are not sure if the reason behind this emptiness is depression, but you have accepted it either way. Now that you think about it, you hated almost every afternoon. For the same exact reason. Even though you used to love the darkness of the night, something about the sun setting has now become extremely unsettling to you. ‘’Vitamin D my ass! ‘’, you thought. It wasn’t always like this, though. Something about the last six months has turned you into a living dead, a zombie if you may! No, actually, ‘’something’’ is a very unfair description of the cause. More like ‘’a very specific experience’’ has turned you. You had lost all your livelihood, all your appetite about almost everything and, suddenly, Sunday afternoons were not just dull, they were depressing. Just like every other afternoon of the week, just like every other time of the day. Every day. For the last six months. Wow. You thought about change a thousand times before. You prayed and you prayed that things were going to get better. You desperately asked the universe for a sign. A sign that you were going to survive this and live a happy life. No sign, no change ever came. Except for this peculiar Sunday afternoon. (Not so dull now, is it?)

You were laying on your back on top of your unmade bed. Blank white tee, black shorts, the same ones you’ve been wearing for over a week now (depression really gets the best of you, huh?). You were sitting with open legs and open arms. Your right, sock covered foot was bent and was softly brushing over your bare left knee. You had your hands thrown on top of your head. Someone that had just entered the room would’ve thought that this is the position of someone highly frustrated. Little would they know. In your mentally uncomfortable but physically soothing position you found yourself begging again. ‘’Please, universe, just one sign is all I’m asking for!” . You truly were desperate. You hated the life you were living, a life created in fucked up ways. All you needed was a sign. A sign of change, a sign that things were going to get better.

*knock knock*

The loud knocks on your bedroom door brought you back to Earth. What the fuck?! You were home alone for the entire weekend and you specifically remember locking the front door (you even double checked!!!). Now, you were not just surprised, you were also terrified. Whoever was knocking on your door definitely was not here for a good reason..

*knock knock knock*

You had no more time to think about it, you had to act. You went full-on survival mode. Even though you didn’t like the life you were living, you still wanted to live. You believed in that change. You collected every drop of bravery you had in you, grabbed your water bottle, the biggest object near and prepared for whatever it was behind that door. The knocks became louder and louder. You were sure now that within a bunch of seconds you were about to fight for your life. You shut your eyes close and took one last big breath. One last big breath befor-

The last loud noise heard was not from the knocking. It was the sound that your bottle and someone’s head made after they collided together. Oh, and the one of the body hitting the floor.

#ellie williams #fiction #tlou

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shrekgogurt · 5 months

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Well folks. I’m on my substitute teaching grind again this week! Scheduled each day up in hopes of getting some good writing done. I did on Monday! And then proceeded to finally start reading @ninemagicks Game/Set/Match yesterday and did that every bell so uhhhhhh. Today………..well ummmmm…..yeah today I worked on chapter graphics because I’m in big procrastination mode. I want to keep riding this wave of engagement (that sounds corporate gross) but I’m also very much in my head about delivering. I should probably channel this energy into writing the chapter since such pressure is Baz’s literal arc but uhhhhhhhh why do that when I could Simon avoid. I love being mentally well!

One might say I need to find my own bravado. (more under the cut)

lol the chapter title for 13 is bravado by lorde

youtube

ok anyway

“Work In Progress Wednesday” right? That means I can talk about the progress of every part of the process? Huh? Yeah? Are you gonna stop me? TRY! TRY TO STOP ME!

Aggression aside, let’s get into it.

As previously stated on Sunday, we find ourselves at intermission. But that’s just the theatrical way of slicing up the story. The fun thing about 24 chapters (I got rid of my originally planned intermission chapter because I didn’t want to write it anymore) is that math really loves the number 24. It’s scrumptious. Yummily divisible. Ergo, IKABIKAM also has/is/will be deliciously divided. Afterall, I do keep saying I’m cooking on it.

Now, to put @alexalexinii on blast (sorry for perceiving you), they wrote in the tags of a Chapter 12 reblog: #made me realise that this fic had proper arcs? And I grinned. I cackled. I rubbed my grubby little hands together at the top of my tower as I’ve been doing this whole time because oh ARCS???????? YOU WANT ARCS???????????? I’VE GOT ARCS LYING IN WAIT LIKE YOU WOULDN’T BELIEVE. (I love overselling myself.)

Allow me to let you in on some of the building blocks thus far.

Chapters 1, 2, 3: a complicated reunion which is shaky but ultimately sets up

Chapters 4, 5, 6: developing the friendship which is a crucial foundation for

Chapters 7, 8, 9: the gay (Baz’s increasingly more external “hi i’m gay”, Simon’s internal “oh wait me too”) which then explodes into

Chapters 10, 11, 12: all that political parent stuff that’s been hinted at in passing which is BIG relevant and incredibly intertwined in this tangled up mess that leads into the work of….

You get it. They’re mini trilogies. Don’t ask me about dividing the chapters into groups of four because I didn’t have that in mind while writing. I like threes better. Always have. Absolute banger of a prime number.

If you for some reason want to read more about the structure, I write a little more about it in this wipsday from when I was procrastinating 9.

Now, @cutestkilla keeps telling me I’m at the downward slope now but honestly delivering on what I’ve set up scares the shit out of me WAY more than the grunt work. I’m uhhhhh yeah. This is why I’m chronically unable to finish projects but by GOD I will finish this one. I swear by it.

So here are three sentences. You get to guess from who and when.

Loving him comes as naturally as breathing. It’s intuitive when I’m not thinking. Or rather, when I’m not panicking.

If you want to follow along with all the songs I’m hyperfixating on as inspiration I’ve been sharing them over on the “shrogurt” instagram. There’s nothing I love more than talking way too much about this damn fic. Thanks for reading!

And thank you for the tags today: @nausikaaa @facewithoutheart @hushed-chorus @artsyunderstudy @prettygoododds @emeryhall

Now tagging: @brilla-brilla-estrellita @captain-aralias @dani-vc @ebbpettier @excalisbury @facewithoutheart @fatalfangirl @hagnoart @iamamythologicalcreature @ileadacharmedlife @imagineacoolusername @ivelovedhimthroughworse @j-nipper-95 @larkral @letraspal @martsonmars @messofthejess @moodandmist @mooncello @nightimedreamersworld @onepintobean @palimpsessed @raenestee @rimeswithpurple @theearlgreymage @theimpossibledemon @thewholelemon @valeffelees @whogaveyoupermission @youarenevertooold @you-remind-me-of-the-babe

#as i was typing this an eighth grader started singing that jack harlow song help #wipsday #ikabikam #vainposting #Youtube

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maladaptiv3 · 1 year

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i have found what you are like

I mean...how could I not?

Content: A nice lazy, rainy Sunday morning reading on the couch.

Warning: age gap, a little possessive, it’s kind of cheesy but I don’t really care! lol

I started this piece a long time ago and I am just hitting a wall...so here is what I have so far. I don’t know if I will finish it.

Word Count: 1174

*original content by maladaptiv3* please do not repost my work

(new screen name hey)

The soft patter of the rain on the roof was the only sound that filled the house for most of the day. The back door was open slightly and there was a now damp towel near the opening that had been placed to catch the bouncing raindrops from the patio outside.

Your Sundays were a ritual—his eyelashes on your cheek beckoning you to wake up, eyes still heavy with sleep as you lift your cup of coffee to your lips, arranging farmers market flowers as he finishes carrying in the rest of your treasures—but it was raining today. The rain was a welcomed distraction, it shifted your routine in a way that you had been craving. It had been a long while since you had enjoyed each other's silence. Silence seemed to be rare in his world. You only experienced pockets of it, stolen away from everyone's eyes. He woke you up that morning, pulling you into him, and melting into you, "It's raining, love." You hummed, "My favorite." The rain made the morning move in slow motion. There was no early morning coffee or having to find parking at the already getting crowded farmers market. "Let's have coffee in bed. I'll go make it," his smile was sweet. You scrunched up your nose, "I wanna watch the rain." He was amused, "Of course you do."

Your mind wandered back to the current moment. Your back was against the arm of the couch and your legs were bent at the knee. A warm blanket was in your lap, covering one-half of you. You had a book in one hand and the other was running its fingers through his hair. He was settled between your thighs, slightly propped up on a throw pillow. His fingers were tracing lines on your shin as he turned the page of his book with the other. You mused, wondering how you had the privilege to live in this perfect moment. If you could bottle it, you would. His hand would occasionally ghost up your leg and settle on your thigh, his arm stretching slightly so he could grip it. You would slightly tug on his hair, playfully of course, "Shh...I'm reading." He would squeeze your thigh once more before going back to the words on his page, "I didn't say anything." He didn't have to say anything. This was a game you knew all too well. The rain was still falling outside and you wanted to bask in this feeling for as long as you could. The comfort of just merely touching each other was enough to keep you going for days.

After a while, you heard him sigh. You put the business card posing as your bookmark back into your book, "Something on your mind?" He laid his book down flat on his chest, "You've been reading that book for years, you think you would have finished it by now." You rolled your eyes, "I've been finished. I just like to revisit it. It's one of my favorites." He sat up to face you, his legs crossed in front of him, "Well, what about it makes you revisit it?" You were astonished, "You're telling me that Mr. Booksnob himself has never read Jane Eyre? It's a classic." "Hey! I am not a book snob." "You kind of are." He took the book from your hands and examined the cover, "So, what is it about?" You took a minute to think, "It's about a homely governess who falls in love with the older man she's working for." His fingers were drumming against the book, "What's with you and older men?" You snatched the book back from him, "That's just what's on the surface. It's a story of painful love, independence, and feminism." He nodded, "Now, that makes more sense. Read me some." "Like what?" "Read me something that reminds you of me." You had it highlighted. It was a new quote you liked. The spine was not yet used to the continuous flipping to the page every time you pulled out your beloved copy. You licked your lips and cleared your throat a bit, "All my heart is yours, sir: it belongs to you; and with you it would remain, were fate to exile the rest of me from your presence forever." He blinked a few times and seemed to be entranced by the words you just spoke, "You belong to me?" You swallowed hard, "This book isn't about us." Your breathing was shallow as you waited for him to say something. His eyes were fixed on yours, "Do you belong to me?" You were quick to nod your head up and down, "Yes." He ghosted his lips over yours, "Good answer. Kind of anti-feminist, though?" You pressed your lips against his, "Is it?"

You pulled back, "Your turn to share. What are you reading?" He took his book from its place on the coffee table, "Poetry." You wiggle the thin green book out of his grip, "I've never really been a fan." His jaw dropped, "You? Miss I Buy A Book every time I leave the house, doesn't enjoy poetry?" "I guess not." He took his book back, "Well, it's only fair I read you something." You reached out trying to take the book from him, "Can I choose?" He clutched onto it, "Absolutely not." He began to flip through the pages, "You at least know who E.E. Cummings is, right?" You shook your head, almost offended, "Obviously." He found the page he was looking for, "I think you'll enjoy this one."

His lips parted and he set down the book:

i have found what you are like the rain,

(Who feathers frightened fields with the superior dust-of-sleep. wields

easily the pale club of the wind and swirled justly souls of flower strike

the air in utterable coolness

deeds of green thrilling light with thinned newfragile yellows

lurch and.press

-in the woods which stutter and

sing

And the coolness of your smile is stirringofbirds between my arms;but i should rather than anything have(almost when hugeness will shut quietly)almost, your kiss

You guys just stared at each other for a second.

Your chest was tight and tears started to well in your eyes, "That was beautiful." He look worried and cupped your face with his hands, "No, no, no -- why are you crying?"

Your chest was tight as you tried to keep the tears from welling in your eyes, "You memorized that?" He nodded and took your hands in his, "I find myself searching for it when I'm thinking of you. Sometimes I get asked what it's like to love you and I always tell them to read this poem. I never understood what Cummings meant when he wrote about someone being like rain until I fell in love with you." You just looked at him, your thumb brushing his, "I wouldn't believe that coming from anyone else, but for some reason, I believe it from you. I also think you kind of want to get laid, but I still believe it."

#andrew garfield #andrew garfield fanfiction #andrew garfield fanfic #andrew garfield smut #swag #andrew garfield imagine

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sillygoobermanlol · 8 months

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MIGUEL X GN VILLAIN SPIDER READER CHAPTER 2: The Calm Before The Storm

This chapter is gonna be short but A LOT starts happening in the next so for this one I just wanted it to be short and sweet. Like I said I do wanna post this on A03 aswell bc thats just better tumbler is kinda just a test run lol.

everything is going great for you and Miguel.

It had been a month since the bite. Miguel indulged himself in his work, meanwhile you were still figuring out what was going on with your body. Your body had changed, you were bigger and stronger. Just a week ago a web of some sort shot out of your wrist and you now noticed the small holes that were there, you weren’t crazy you knew that now but what did this mean? You spent weeks thinking to yourself replaying everything in your head that took place the last few weeks, it did take you a while to tie it back to the spider but when you did everything made sense.

You thought about telling Miguel but would he believe you? He was always more of a logical kind of guy and would probably just call you crazy, and honestly you wouldn’t blame him this WAS crazy. How the hell does a spider manage to give you “powers”? You always thought Alchemax was weird but not weird enough to carry super spiders.

It was almost 12 am when Miguel finally came home, exhausted as always. He had started working on a project and he was staying after hours at Achemax more often, you’re pretty sure he’s even spent the night there too. You tell him to take it easy but he just dismisses you saying its “groundbreaking.” Whatever, you thought, not more groundbreaking then what was happening to you.

“Hey.” your voice echoed in the kitchen,

Miguel jumped almost dropping his microwave dinner, “Good god! you cant just sneak up on me in the dark like that!” he said fixing his glasses. You turned on the kitchen light, your light sensitivity was getting better now it just took you a while to adjust to the light. Miguel really did look tired, he must’ve noticed your concern because he sighed, “I’m okay, please just stop worrying,” he said putting the dinner in the microwave and turning it on, a soft hum filling in the quiet space until you spoke. “Miguel I get it, whatever it is you’re working on is important but is it worth killing yourself over?” you said getting a sigh out of him, “I’m not-” he cut himself off and grumbled before continuing.

“I’m not killing myself, you just have to trust me on this one. What I’m doing is going to change the world,” he said, “I know, and I’m sure of it. Just take care of yourself big guy.” you say giving him a pat on the shoulder, he smiled at you grateful that at least someone believed in him.

Another month passed, you had gotten used to your abilities for the most part. Occasionally stopping a corner store robbery here and there, your presence was made known “spider-man” is what they called you, some low quality videos of you on the web and few dozen newspaper articles. You weren’t really sure if you want to be out there yet so you kept it lowkey for a while, Miguel had been planning some kind of showcasing for his project and you supported him on this idea. He still hadn’t really told you what it was, every time you asked he dodged the question like a bullet so you can’t lie that you were excited to see what he had been working on for all this time.

You unenthusiastically mopped the bathroom floor of Alchemax, this job was absolutely insufferable. it was quiet until Miguel barged through the door talking about a million miles per hour switching from Spanish to English, “Woah Woah, okay what?” you say stopping your movements. “The showcase is this Sunday, THIS SUNDAY.” he looked excited yet panicked at the same time pacing around the small space, “That’s great! What time? I’m totally going.” you ask trying to be supportive. “8 pm, there’s just so much to do. I’ve got to prepare and-” he takes a deep breath, “Very important people are going to be there I cant mess this up.” he says. “You wont, you’re freaking awesome there’s no way they’re gonna reject you.” You smile continuing to mop,

Your words seem to calm Miguel, he drags you into a big hug one that almost lifted your feet off the ground. You chuckle pulling away, “Okay okay, don’t you have a showcase to plan? Shoo,” you wave him away but he just stands in front of you with a giddy smile on his face. “You’re really important to me you know that? I swear you’re gonna be proud of me after this.” he said softly, “I already am.” you say in response to his heartfelt words. You two smile at each other for a little while more before he leaves, your heart felt heavy of love for him you would do anything for that man.

The next few days Miguel planned intensely for the showcase he needed everything to be perfect, he even bought a nice new suit for himself. You decided to follow in his footsteps and get something nice too for the showcase as well, you picked up a beautiful red and blue suit that would look great on you it even made you more excited to attend. Everything was okay, and going well you had never felt more like yourself. Spider man was showing up more and more over time, you weren’t so scared anymore.

#miguel x you #miguel o'hara x ftm reader #miguel x reader #spiderman miguel #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x male reader #miguel o'hara x afab reader #miguel o'hara

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all-the-things-2020 · 4 months

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Late Night Talking - Chapter Eight

Summary: Em had a rough day at work. Dieter makes her feel better.

Rating: PG-13 (nothing graphic, Em is still shy about writing explicit details about her relationship, lol)

Word Count: 4800+

Tag list: @rhoorl @avastrasposts @readingiskeepingmegoing @runningmom94 @gwendibleywrites

Dieter insisted on driving himself home after the accident. He called me when he got there, complaining about what a pain in the ass the drive had been. The butt jokes continued throughout the week, accompanied by a few photos of the stitches to prove that he was healing up.

“Dieter, I have enough pictures of your ass,” I told him on Thursday. “Besides, I’m going to see it in person tomorrow night.”

”You can never have enough pictures of my ass,” he replied. “Which, by the way, is looking forward to seeing you tomorrow.”

Friday morning I put my overnight bag into the trunk of my car. I was going to drive straight from work to Dieter’s place, since I would be back tracking if I went home first. Fridays are always long, but that one felt like an eternity. We were busy, but the beginning of school rush was starting to die down and I had pockets of downtime when my mind was able to wander. And it wandered toward Dieter.

Traffic was horrendous, of course, but I managed to get to Dieter’s house after only a two hour drive. He greeted me at the door wearing a pair of baggy pajama pants and an old Pac Sun t shirt. He was barefoot.

”Nice look,” I said as he wrapped me in his arms.

”I’m an invalid,” he said. “These are my sick clothes.”

”You’ve been to four meetings and a doctor’s appointment this week. You aren’t an invalid.”

He pouted. “But my butt hurts, baby.”

I tried to keep a straight face but it was impossible. Pouting Dieter always makes me laugh.

We spent a quiet weekend, watching movies and making out on the couch. Dieter couldn’t go in the pool because of the stitches, which made him a bit grumpy, but otherwise it was the romantic weekend we’d attempted to have the previous week.

”I’m out of town all next week,” he said Sunday morning as we lazed in bed.

”Yeah, I know.” I laid my head on his broad chest and he stroked my hair.

“Won’t be back in L.A. until Saturday night, so I guess we won’t see each other next weekend.” His hand played with my earlobe.

”It’s okay,” I said. “We’ll FaceTime.”

”Not the same,” he said, nibbling on my neck.

I sighed. “No, it’s not, but we’ll see each other the weekend after. You’re driving out, right?”

”If I can,” he said. “No, yeah, definitely. I’ve got a bunch of meetings and shit for the press tour that week but I will make sure I get out there on Friday. Play the entitlement card. ‘I’m Dieter Fucking Bravo. I make my own rules.’”

”Just don’t piss off anybody important,” I said. “I understand if your work messes with our plans. Work has to come first unless it’s an emergency. That’s what my parents always said.”

”Fuck that,” Dieter said vehemently. “People come first. Relationships come first. Work … work is important, but it’s not everything.”

”Okay,” I said carefully. I’d touched a nerve and didn’t want to probe it too much right then. “But I do understand that you have to do stuff for work. So do I.”

He mumbled something I didn’t catch and then distracted me by sliding one hand between my legs while he kissed my collarbone and I stopped thinking rationally for a while.

**************************************************************

[Text message conversation between Dieter and his publicist]

CARMEN: So, I need to know something.

DIETER: What?

C: There’s a weird rumor floating around and I need the truth.

D: Shit, now what?

C: I’ve heard two versions. One is you were injured “in bed” and needed stitches in your backside. The other is you had a fight with your girlfriend, broke some glass and she pushed you onto it, also requiring stitches.

D: Fuck. I did get hurt at Em’s but it wasn’t in bed and we didn’t have a fight. I fell off the fucking bed trying to reach the smoke alarm to change the battery and I broke a lamp. I landed on it and cut my ass cheek. That doctor promised he wouldn’t say anything to anybody.

C: I don’t think it was the doc. This isn’t coming from the public gossip sites; it’s word of mouth rumors in the industry.

D: Probably someone at my agent’s office. I was telling him the story because I had to reschedule a meeting so I could go get the stitches out. So what do we have to do?

C: Nothing. If either rumor breaks containment, we put out a statement clearing things up. Tell what really happened. If not, we ignore it.

D: Does Em know?

C: I haven’t said anything to her. Figured that’s your job.

***************************************************************

“People are saying what?” I was driving home from work when Dieter called and almost swerved off the road.

”One version is you were pegging me and ripped my butthole,” he said. “The other is we had a big fight, I broke some glass, then you pushed me down on it.”

”But … who would believe any of that?”

”Dumbass people,” he said with a sigh. “The shitheads at the gossip websites who would say anything for clicks. Look, I know this is ridiculous, but Carmen has it under control. If anything makes the mainstream, she’ll issue a statement.”

”Holy shit, what if my aunt hears any of this?” My mother’s sister was one of those stick-up-her-bum church lady types, mostly because she’d converted in her early twenties. Converts were the worst. I loved her dearly, but we did not see eye to eye on most aspects of my personal life. She’d already made it very clear to me that she thought I was sinning by engaging in premarital sex.

”It won’t get that far,” Dieter said. “I’ll tell Carmen to get out ahead of it. Get a statement out to the gossip rags. Let them know we’ll sue if they say anything that contradicts it.”

I was almost home. “Deet, how the hell do you live like this?”

”Everyone has rumors told about them,” he said. “I’ll bet your co-workers talk shit about you.”

I had to admit he was probably right. It wasn’t just students who were stuck in the high school paradigm. Any time you trapped a group of people in one place for hours and hours each day, they did what humans had been doing for millennia: they talked. The rumor mill was alive and well on campus, although as adults we were more circumspect than the kids were.

“I still don’t like it,” I said, pulling up in front of my condo.

”Nobody likes it, babe,” he said. “It’s one of the prices you pay for fame. And big paychecks.” He sighed. “I need to get back on set. I’ll see you next weekend.”

”See you then,” I said. I had to bite my tongue to keep from saying “I love you.” It was a little bit silly, but I had vowed that I wouldn’t say it until Dieter did. I didn’t want to make a fool of myself.

******************************************************************

It had been a shitty day. We’d gotten a delivery of over two hundred boxes of math textbooks. Each box held six books and we needed to get them all unpacked, stamped, barcoded and out to students ASAP. The books had been ordered on time and should have arrived in the summer when there had actually been time to process them, but the publisher had screwed up on the first print run and they ended up backordered. I’d been unpacking boxes and stacking books on carts all day and my back was killing me. This work was usually done by volunteers and kids needing community service hours for graduation, but with the kids all in class, it fell to me and the textbook clerk, along with a couple of helpers loaned to us from the front office. All I wanted to do when I got home was take a hot shower, pop a handful of ibuprofen and crash on the couch with my shiatsu massager.

Things weren’t going to be easy until we got the job done, but at least I didn’t have to drive to Hollywood that weekend; it was Dieter’s turn to drive out to my place. I kept telling myself, You just have to make it through two more days.

As I pulled into the driveway, I noticed two things. First of all, Dieter’s bright red Audi was parked in front of my condo. Second of all, Dieter himself was sitting on my front step, reading a book and drinking what looked like a tall glass of my neighbor Mrs. Gutiérrez’s iced tea.

I climbed out of the car. “What are you doing here?”

“My meeting tomorrow got cancelled and I’m free for the rest of the week, so I thought I’d come out early, since I didn’t get to see you last weekend,” he said, setting down his book and glass. He stood up to hug me but I cringed when he did. “What’s wrong?”

“Oh, we had a billion books to unpack today and my back is killing me,” I told him. “You should have called me before you drove all this way. I’m not going to be very good company.”

“I wanted to surprise you,” he said. “Of course, I was halfway here when I realized I was going to get here way before you got home.” He scratched at the back of his ball cap. “Your neighbor was worried about me. She brought me some iced tea so I wouldn’t get too hot.”

I looked next door and saw Mrs. Gutiérrez peeking out her front window. I waved at her and she gave me a thumbs up. “I need to get you a key,” I said without thinking. Even though we spent the weekend at each other’s homes, we hadn’t exchanged keys yet. It was the next step in our relationship and here I’d jumped into it without discussing it with him.

He smiled. “That would be nice,” he said softly. “We can get a copy of my keys for you while we’re at it.”

I felt my face flush. We’d been dating for almost three months at that point, and I knew he was in it for the long haul, but I still felt a little giddy every time we took a step toward more intimacy, more permanency. And those three little words still loomed unsaid.

“Let’s get inside,” I said. I fumbled with my keys and dropped them. As soon as I started to bend down to pick them up, I knew I’d made a mistake. “Ugh,” I groaned. “Can … can you get those for me?”

He reached down and swept the keys up, his free hand going immediately to my back. He rubbed it as he put the key in the lock. “You really did a number on your back, didn’t you, babe?,” he said, frowning.

“Yeah,” I admitted. He took my bag from me and ushered me carefully into the house. “Look, all I want to do is eat something, take a mega dose of ibuprofen, and collapse on the couch with my back massager. You don’t have to stay. It’s not like I’m going to be much fun.”

He looked at me as if I was an idiot. “First of all, I’m not driving all the way back to Hollywood just to turn around and drive back the day after tomorrow,” he said. He pushed me gently down onto the couch and sat beside me. “Second of all, I’m not leaving you alone if you’re in pain. And third of all, I’m here to see you, not have fun.”

I raised my eyebrow and he immediately shook his head. “That didn’t come out quite right, but you know what I mean,” he said, sliding his arm around my shoulder and playing with my hair. “Let me take care of you, okay?” He pressed a kiss against my cheek and I relented, laying my head on his shoulder.

“Okay, but there’s not much you can do except keep me company,” I said.

“That’s where you’re wrong,” he said. “I know about back pain, believe me.”

After making me promise not to move a muscle, he left me on the couch to flip through the channels looking for something to watch (I didn’t have all the streaming services he did, just basic cable, which drove him nuts) while he heated up some leftover pasta I had in my fridge. We ate on the couch, watching reruns of “M*A*S*H”.

When we were finished, I tried to help him take the dirty plates into the kitchen but my back had stiffened up enough that I only got about two inches off the couch before I froze. “Oh, oh, ouch, ouch,” I whimpered. Dieter pushed me gently back down.

“I got it,” he said, kissing me on the forehead. He took the dishes into the kitchen and detoured to the bathroom to fetch the bottle of ibuprofen. “I didn’t know it came in such big bottles,” he said when he came back.

“Costco,” I said. “And if you were a woman, you’d buy the industrial size bottle, too.” I opened the top, shook out four pills and popped them in my mouth. “I live on this stuff one week a month.”

“Okay, time to get you in the shower,” Dieter said. “Some hot water will loosen those muscles a bit.”

He helped me stand up and I headed — slowly — toward the bathroom. “Let me know if you need any help, okay?,” he said.

“I’m fine,” I said, brushing him off. “I’ve been taking showers for years.”

I closed the door on him, and turned on the water to give it a chance to heat up before I got in. The moment I stepped into the shower and the hot water hit my back, I let out a little moan. Standing up hurt but the hot water felt incredibly good. I stood with my back to the showerhead, letting the water hit my lower back. I slowly bent forward, gently stretching the muscles as the heat loosened them up a bit.

I’d been in there for about fifteen minutes when there was a knock on the bathroom door. “How’re you doing in there?”

“I’m fine,” I called out. “Just enjoying the hot water.” The door opened and Dieter stepped in. “What are you doing?” My instinct was to cover myself but all I had handy was a washcloth, which wasn’t going to do much good.

“Oh, please,” he scoffed. “I just wanted to ask if you have any massage oils.”

“Um, no,” I said. We had the shower curtain between us, but it was fairly sheer and it felt very awkward, especially since Dieter was making no effort to avert his eyes.

“Hmm, okay, I’ll see what you have in the kitchen,” he said, turned around and left. I stayed in the shower a few more minutes, then turned the water off, got out, and wrapped myself in a towel.

The door opened again and Dieter whisked me into the bedroom. The bed was turned down and the new lamp on the nightstand was on its lowest setting. Relaxing music was playing on the speaker on my dresser. “Um, sweetie,” I said, “I told you I wasn’t up for much.”

He shook his head. “I know,” he said. “I’m going to give you a massage.” He gestured toward the bed. “Take off that towel and lay face down with your head on the pillows.”

“You just want to look at my ass,” I joked as I followed his directions.

He smacked me lightly on the butt. “Behave yourself,” he said, climbing onto the bed behind me. He straddled my legs and started lightly prodding my back. “Where does it hurt? Here? Here?” Once he had a good idea of the extent of the affected area, he got up. “Okay, all I could find was olive oil, so if you smell like a salad when we’re done, I’m sorry.” I heard him pour some oil out and rub his hands together to warm it up.

The bed dipped under his weight again as he resumed his position. His broad hands began to stroke up and down my lower back, his thumbs digging in now and then to work out the tension in the muscles. The oil let his hands glide over my skin and it felt absolutely delicious. “Oh, yeah,” I groaned. “That feels amazing.”

He chuckled. “I like to hear that,” he said. I felt his weight shift as he leaned forward to kiss my shoulder. Then he sat back and continued working on my sore muscles. Soon I was melting into the mattress and I barely noticed when Dieter climbed off the bed, pressing one last kiss to my shoulder. “Get some sleep, babe,” he said softly.

The next thing I knew, my alarm was going off the next morning. Dieter grunted beside me. “What the hell?”

I slapped the alarm clock to stop the annoying beep. “Go back to sleep,” I told him. “I need to get ready for work.” I started to crawl out of bed but he pulled me back.

“Call in sick,” he said. “Stay with me.”

“I can’t,” I said, although I was very tempted. My back felt a lot better but it was still a bit stiff. “We have a shit ton of work to do and if I don’t go in, they won’t get a sub to cover for me.” I kissed his forehead and went into the bathroom to start getting ready for work.

Dieter was sound asleep by the time I came out, and I got dressed to the sound of his quiet snores. Before I left, I scribbled a note, which I left on the kitchen table beside my house keys.

“Thanks again for last night. I feel so much better! Leaving my keys so you can go out if you need to, lol. See you when I get home. XOXOXO”

I locked the door from the inside, pulled it shut and headed off for another long day at work.

**********************************

Work was better than the day before, partly because we’d finished most of the heavy lifting already, but mostly because I knew Dieter would be waiting for me at home when I got done. My co-workers made a few comments about what a good mood I seemed to be in, but I didn’t take the bait. It was enough to know he’d be there when I came home; I didn’t need to brag about it.

It felt weird to knock on my own front door when I got home. Dieter opened it a tiny crack. “What’s the password?,” he said, squinting warily at me.

“Open the damn door,” I said.

“Correct,” he said, opening the door and letting me in. He led me to the couch, where there was a glass of wine waiting for me. As I sat down, he slipped my shoes off and pulled my feet into his lap, massaging them gently.

“Oh, my,” I said. “What did I do to deserve this treatment?”

He shrugged. “I just thought you’d probably had a rough day at work again, and I enjoyed taking care of you yesterday.” He dropped my feet and pulled me in for a kiss. “Besides, it was kind of nice playing house husband today.” He winked at me and got up from the couch.

“I changed the sheets on the bed, ran a few errands, and I’m actually cooking dinner,” he said. He came back with a set of keys in his hand. “Here are your house keys back,” he said, dangling them in front of me, “and I added a set to my place.” He dropped the keys into my hand. Two brand new keys were next to my slightly worn ones. I fingered them gently.

“I got copies of yours for me,” he said. “Hope you don’t mind, but you did say I needed them …”

“No, no, thank you,” I said. So it was official. We had full access to each other's homes. I felt a weird fluttery feeling in my stomach and I grabbed his hand, pulling in in to press a kiss to his palm.

He dropped back onto the couch beside me, humming happily. He caressed my face before leaning in for a lingering kiss. “As much as I enjoy this,” he said when he came up for air, “I need to check on dinner.” He stood up and headed for the kitchen. I picked up my wine glass and followed him. This I had to see.

He was opening the oven to check on whatever was inside, and I caught a glimpse of a plastic tray. “Aha!” I said. “You bought that.”

“Well, yeah,” he said. “I said I was cooking dinner, not that I made dinner. There’s a semantic difference.” He poured himself a glass of wine and took a drink. “Now get out of the way, because I need to cut up some veggies for the salad.” He pulled several bags out of the fridge and plopped them on the counter. “Do you have a cutting board?”

I pointed at one of the lower cupboards and then stepped back, leaning against the end of the counter to watch. He found the cutting board, selected a knife from the wooden block on the counter and started to work. “Stop watching me,” he said after a few minutes. “I keep waiting for you to tell me what I’m doing wrong.”

“You’re not doing anything wrong,” I said. “I just enjoy seeing this domestic side of you.” He made a face and flipped me off. I shrugged. “You’re the one who said you liked playing house husband.”

He laughed. “Okay, I deserved that,” he admitted. “Now go sit down and wait for me to call you to the table.” He pointed at me with the knife.

I retired to the living room to finish my wine and flip through my mail (which Dieter had helpfully brought in and placed on the coffee table). Nothing of real interest except a 20% off coupon for Kohl’s and a catalog from Daedelus Books. I sat those aside and tossed the rest in my “stuff to be shredded” basket, which was starting to get a bit full. I made a mental note to work on that soon.

I settled back to thumb through the catalog as I sipped my wine and before I knew it, Dieter was in the doorway. “Dinner’s ready, honey!,” he said. He was wearing a stupid frilly apron I kept in a drawer; my aunt had given it to me one year for Christmas and I’d kept it to wear on the rare occasions when I baked.

“You look ridiculous,” I said, giggling.

He spun around. “You like it? I found it in the drawer when I was looking for a pot holder to get the lasagna out of the oven with.”

“It’s you,” I said. “But please, take it off, or I won’t be able to eat for laughing.”

He grumbled something about slaving away over a hot stove all day and not getting any respect as he untied the apron, balled it up and tossed it back into the kitchen. Then he pulled my chair out for me and we sat down to eat. Veggie lasagna; a huge salad full of cucumbers, radishes, grape tomatoes, and feta cheese; and a crusty loaf of Italian bread with herbed olive oil for dipping.

“This … this is amazing,” I said, looking around at the food, the wine, the fact that he’d actually gone through my mismatched cutlery drawer and made sure our knives and forks were all the same pattern.

He shrugged. “Like I said, I had fun today.” He pointed at me with his fork. “Just don’t expect this all the time, okay?”

After dinner, he put away the leftovers. “See, I planned ahead,” he told me. “This way we have dinner for tomorrow night all squared away.” He tapped his finger against the side of his head. When he came back out, he had a big bowl of mixed berries and a can of whipped cream.

“Is that dessert or do you have something weird planned for the bedroom?” I teased.

“Both, if you’re lucky,” he said. He sat the bowl down, took the cap off the whipped cream and squirted a dollop on his finger, then dabbed it on the tip of my nose. He sat the can down in front of me and went back into the kitchen. He came back with two slices of pound cake on saucers. “And you thought I was being kinky,” he said, shaking his head. Then he leaned down and licked the melting whipped cream off my nose.

*****************************

The next morning, Dieter barely stirred when the alarm went off. I slipped out of bed, got dressed and headed off to work, leaving him another note on the table.

“Can’t wait to see what you have planned for tonight. XOXOXO”

Work dragged on and on, as Fridays were wont to do, and of course I got a last minute phone call that kept me a few minutes past quitting time. Finally, I was free for the weekend and hurried home, only to find Dieter’s car gone. Instantly, my heart sank and I chided myself. If he’d had to leave, he would have texted or called me and I had no messages. He must have run to the store or something and just wasn’t back yet.

I went inside, flipped through the mail and poured myself a glass of wine. As I was leaving the kitchen, I heard a key in the lock and the door opened. “Hi, honey, I’m home!” Dieter called out in a cheesy sitcom voice.

“That was supposed to be my line,” I said.

He had a bag in his hand, which he dropped on the coffee table. “I had to drive further than I thought I would,” he said. He opened the bag and pulled out a bottle. “Actual massage oil,” he said. “So you won’t smell like a salad this time.”

“This time?”

He grinned. “You wanted to know what I had planned for tonight,” he said. “I thought you might like a full body massage.”

“Only if I can return the favor,” I said, taking the bottle from him. “Mmm, lavender and sweet almond oil. That sounds amazing.” I opened the cap and took a sniff. I felt myself relax instantly.

“I’ll give you a massage tonight and you can give me one tomorrow,” he said. “But only if I get a ‘happy ending’.” He waggled his eyebrows.

“You are disgusting,” I said. “But don’t worry, you will.” I handed the bottle back to him. “You’ve taken such good care of me, I’m going to spend the weekend taking care of you.” I took his face in my hands and kissed him greedily. I’d been waiting for this moment all day.

“I’m glad you said that,” Dieter said when we came up for air. “Because I have an idea …”

***************************************************************

I was nervous. Dieter’s idea has sounded good but now that it was time for me to roll over onto my back I wasn’t so sure. Things had started out as a normal massage, just like the night before, but now it was time for the “happy ending” he’d envisioned. The rules were simple: the one being massaged had to simply lie back and enjoy; the one doing the massaging was only able to use their hands (and mouth) to pleasure the other. This meant that I would be completely exposed to Dieter’s view, something that I had mostly avoided so far.

I wasn’t exactly ashamed of my body, but I was self conscious about it. I was an average middle aged woman. Things sagged and bulged after decades of dealing with gravity, I knew that. But Dieter worked in Hollywood. He was surrounded by perfect bodies all the time.

“Can we turn off the lights?” I suggested when Dieter prodded me to flip over.

”Of course not,” he said. “I have to see what I’m doing.” He flopped down next to me. “I want to see what I’m doing,” he added quietly. He brushed a lock of hair away from my face. “I think you’re beautiful.”

I rolled my eyes. “You’re just saying that because you’re horny.”

”First of all, even if I am horny, I’m not getting any tonight because of the rules of the game,” he said. “So let me enjoy what I can. And second of all, looking at you is enjoyable. Thinking about you is enjoyable. Touching you is enjoyable.” He smiled a crooked smile. “Watching you cry out my name is enjoyable. And third of all …” He kissed me deeply. When I was discombobulated enough, he flipped me over onto my back. “That’s better,” he said. Then he proceeded to play the game exceedingly well.

So well that we both won. Three times.

#dieter bravo #dieter bravo fanfiction #dieter bravo x ofc #late night talking #pedro pascal character fanfiction

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justmy-account · 4 months

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Stranger Things updates from this week

January 22nd-28th

Monday 22nd

the account on twitter who says they work on set and post some spoilers is still a big deal. but its fake(imo)

Tuesday 23rd

Cara Buono(Karen’s acteress) was filming this day, so maybe some of her children are in hospital? Or maybe Ted is dying lol

they were filming second episode there(at least they should, Cara posted a video today were she said that it’ her first day and they were filming ep. 2)

Wednesday 24th

we got a new part of the video from the roof top. it looks like el is crying there. people are saying maybe it isn’t break up, bc Mike is laughing there

one of the new filming locations is some radio tower. and they made social media for it? yet they only posted some quotes from the show

Thursday 25th

there’s big focus on Bradley’s supermarket

they’re also filming in the quarry? i don’t like this

also some random photos

someone said that at one of the pictures we got might be will

also, someone used ai lip reader to the leaked video, and mike says sth like “after all this is over, we can go live to my local village, it’s very peaceful place, there three waterfalls nearby” or some shit like that, and i’ve seen many memes abt it

Friday 26th

it’s friday, i’m in love! the cure is coming on the stage!

(these lyrics are from song Boys Don’t Cry by The Cure(they also have a song named Friday I’m in Love, and it’s Friday, get it…), and in s4, Will had Boys Don’t Cry poster in his room, and i love this song, and it would be great to see it in st.)

the stranger things broadcast channel posted few new pictures, it looks like they were filming in school library

also dustins and lucas’s(but maybe someone else’s) locker

Saturday 27th

new photos of hawkins memorial hospital

(there are more of them, i’ll only put these in)

Then, they hyped us

[Spongebob voice] 10 minutes later

that’s practically it, come on, we knew you were filming in the hospital!

Sunday 28th

apparently, Sadie Sink has been seen in London, so it looks that she’s not the one filming in hospital. since Karen has been on set, maybe really some of her kids are in hospital. maybe Holly, bc Mike and Nancy are important characters

filming is also at Lovers Lake