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sluttywoozi · 1 month

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Golden Hour | husband!joshua x reader

After a long day of surf and sun, Joshua somehow still has the energy to fuck you into the hotel mattress. Being in love (and obsessed) with his wife always pays off.

Rating: M (18+) | WC: ~4.4k | Pairing: hjs x reader | Genre: smut

Part of the Husband Joshua series! Can be read as a standalone

Part I | Part II | Part III | Part IV | Part V

Warnings: idk how to surf so if this is wrong blame wikihow, possessive!josh, drink mention but it doesn’t have to be alcoholic, oral r. rec., spitting, some spanking, fingering, piv sex, breeding kink but they don't want kids, creampie(s), cockwarming

Reader Notes: has breasts and a vagina, on some form of birth control, referred to as a wife, wears a bikini (every body is a bikini body), wears a dress

Joshua raises a hand to his face, holding it above his eyes to block the glaring sun as he scans the crowded shore for you. He’s been out in the water for a while, trying to improve his surfing skills and also perhaps trying to impress you, just a little. Neither you nor him have been to the beach since your honeymoon, and he doesn’t want you to think those lessons he splurged on while you were having a spa day were for nothing.

He’s caught a few waves so far but hasn’t made it close enough to the shore to see your face, so he has no idea if you’ve been watching him or if you’ve just been reading and listening to music. He won’t be hurt if you haven’t had your eyes on him, but he does want you to see him ride at least one wave.

He hears some murmurs from the few other surfers in front of him and turns around, instantly seeing what has them talking. There’s a big one coming in, building and building and building, and if he starts paddling now, he just might make it.

So he leans forward onto his stomach, his arms powering through the water even as his muscles begin to ache from so much use. The ocean beneath him starts getting sucked in, contributing to the rolling wave, and he prepares himself to pop up and find his balance.

His heart races as he takes off, getting his feet beneath him and standing on steady legs, his arms loose and his eyes trained on the shore. He rides the wave as far as he can, bailing when it starts to peter out and immediately swimming up to catch his breath. Climbing back onto his board, he looks around for your rented rainbow sun umbrella, grinning when he realizes he’s much closer to it than he thought he’d be.

You’re not under it though, his smile dropping as he starts to survey the beach, searching for you. He can’t seem to find you, and for some reason that has his heart racing again, this time in anxiety rather than exhilaration.

“Joshie! That was amazing!” You exclaim from somewhere to the left of him, your voice just a bit faint but still easily recognizable. He whips his head over, his shoulders relaxing as soon as he sets eyes on you, wading waist deep in the clear blue water and making your way toward him.

He beams and hops off the board, closing the remaining distance and catching you with one arm as you launch yourself at him. The other keeps hold of his board, though he wishes he had both hands free to hug you back.

He also wishes he could feel your skin against his, but his swim shirt is still in the way and he won’t be able to take it off until you let go of him, which he’s not going to ask you to do any time soon.

It’s silly but he’s missed you while he was out surfing, even though it’s only been a couple of hours. You’ve been on vacation for three days already and he’s grown used to sharing every minute with you, being in your presence for each breath in and each breath out, bar bathroom breaks and the one nap you took without him when he wanted to explore and you wanted to stay in.

He wishes it could be like this all the time, but he’ll settle for the rest of the week if only because he knows he’ll have you for the rest of his life.

Too soon, you pull away, sliding your hands from his shoulders to rest on his chest, your touch appreciative and the slightest bit possessive. His hand on your waist tightens, his fingers digging into the soft flesh exposed by your bikini. You let him pick out your swimsuit today, and while some men might want to cover their wife up, he’s the opposite.

He thinks it’s hot that people are looking at you, wanting you, not knowing he’s the only one you’ll ever go home with. They realize when he presses his lips to yours in a claiming kiss, when he lets his hands wander a little, when they notice the matching rings on your left fourth fingers.

He doesn’t even know if anyone is looking at you now, too busy staring into your eyes to notice anything else, but he feels the urge all the same. You can already tell what he wants, leaning in to meet him in the middle as he kisses you deeply, slowly, sucking at your bottom lip and sliding his tongue into your mouth when it opens on a gasp.

His hand slips down to your ass, squeezing it over your swimsuit hard, pulling your cheek up and over, surely tugging at your pussy too. You squirm against his chest, pressing closer to him as your fingernails dig into his pecs.

He remembers you’re at a public beach when a wave crashes into you, and thank goodness it did because he was millimeters away from slipping his hand into your bikini bottoms so he could find out if you’re wet from the water or wet for him.

He pulls away and laughs, shifting his hand to your lower back and pecking you one last time before breathing, “Should we head back to the room?”

“Yeah, I think we should. Wanna lay out enough to dry off first?” You offer hopefully, and while he kind of just wants to throw you over his shoulder and haul you to the hotel now, he knows you hate tracking water through the clean lobby.

“Sure, baby, we can do that,” he smiles fondly, giving you one last squeeze and releasing you. His board goes under one arm and you go under the other, your hand coming up to hold his as you walk back to the shore together.

He splits off from you to return the board to the surf shack, promising he’ll bring back one of those coconut drinks for you to share though he knows you’ll likely have most of it.

The line isn’t too long for the return of the board or the purchase of the coconut drink, thankfully, and he walks back to you with care, not wanting to spill even a drop.

You’re on your stomach to the side of the umbrella when he arrives, not under its shade but close enough that it’s obviously yours, a thick terry cloth blanket spread out under you with just enough room for his body too. He sighs contentedly as he sits next to you, handing over the drink and smiling as your eyes widen with glee, your lips pursing around the straw to take an excited sip.

He reaches for the hem of his surf shirt and yanks it off, wringing it out away from the blanket and laying it flat on the edge of the lounge you no longer occupy. You roll over to lay on your back and he feels your eyes on him like a physical touch, your gaze hot and familiar on his chest and stomach.

He loves how you look at him, loves that you’d rather stare at him than at the beautiful beach around you, loves even more that you’re obsessed with his body just like he’s obsessed with yours.

He also loves that this way, he can look at you too. You shift up onto your elbows, your breasts jiggling with the movement, and he feels a bolt of desire shoot straight down his spine as he lets his eyes lovingly travel over every available inch of you. Over your soft tummy and your squeezable hips and your perfect, perfect thighs. Thighs he wants to suffocate between. Thighs he wants to sink his teeth into. Thighs he wants to hold down to the bed as he-

“I think I’m dry enough. Are you?”

He clears his throat and attempts to clear his head, but images of you still swim through his thoughts, even as he nods and tugs at his board shorts to subtly adjust himself. They don’t feel as wet between his fingers, just damp, and when he reaches for his shirt, it’s close enough to dry that he only cringes a little as he pulls it back on.

You pack up together quickly, and Joshua is almost relieved when you reach for your dress and tug it over your head, needing a reprieve from your near naked body. He’s less relieved when he remembers that it’s a fucking sundress.

Of course it is, that’s all you’ve been wearing on this trip, and he doesn’t know how he forgot. This is worse, because it’s his favorite article of clothing on you, and because he knows all you’ve got on under it is an easily untied, flimsy little bikini.

It takes everything in him not to pull you into one of the changing cabanas, bend you over, and make you scream for him; he manages somehow, the knowledge that he can do the latter two when you get into the room tiding him over, but only just.

He’s silent while you return the umbrella, his hand tight around yours as you walk through the lobby, and he’s glad you know him well enough to understand that he’s not upset or annoyed, just nearly out of his mind with desire for you.

The wait for the elevator feels like eons, especially when he looks at you in the reflection of the metal doors, your form slightly fuzzy but clear enough for him to see the rise of your tits under your dress and the way the hem flutters gently over your thighs. Those thighs…

The doors part with a ding and you pull him inside, pressing the button for your floor before the elevator fills with other guests, leaving you and Joshua at the back. You’ll have to maneuver in between them to get out but it means he can slide his hand up your dress and squeeze your ass again, his fingers slipping under your bikini to touch your bare skin.

They creep closer to the heat between your legs with every stop, and he’s just about to reach your pussy when the elevator lands on your floor. He reluctantly takes his hand back and rights your dress, murmuring, “Excuse us,” as he weaves around the few people left. When the doors close behind you, he twines his fingers with yours and breaks into a jog, tugging you to the room and grinning as a few bitten back giggles escape you.

He bounces on his toes as you dig the card out of your bag, your trembling fingers inserting it into the lock and his hand turning the handle as soon as the light glows green. He pushes the door open for you, following closely with his other hand tight on your hip, his dick already hard and throbbing in anticipation.

You’ve barely set your bag down before he’s steering you to the bed, crowding you up against the edge, and pressing your shoulder to bend you over. He flips up the hem of your dress and tears down your bikini, knocking your legs apart with his own and pushing his left knee up until yours rests on the bed. He’s sure you expect him to drop his shorts and sink right into you, which is probably why you gasp when he falls to his knees and slaps your ass with both hands before spreading your cheeks apart and shoving his tongue inside of you.

You taste fucking divine, the beloved flavor of your pussy tinged with salty seawater, and he groans deeply into you, fucking his tongue in and out of your entrance and swallowing as his mouth fills with saliva and your arousal.

He fucks you with his tongue until you’re whining and shaking above him, tilting your hips to improve the angle and rocking into his movements. The leg keeping you up starts to quiver, and he pulls away just long enough to gasp out, “On the bed, baby, get on the bed.”

You listen, clumsily climbing up and stretching out for him, face down, ass up, just like he likes you. He smacks your ass again just because he can before spreading your pussy open with his thumbs and spitting on your clenching entrance. Some of it seeps inside of you and some of it trails down to your clit, leaving the bud glistening and just begging for his attention.

He leans down and wraps his lips around it, sucking in hard, quick pulses until you cry out, “Joshie, please!”

“Please what, baby? Tell me what you want,” he mumbles into you, just loud enough for you to hear.

“Your fingers, I want your fingers,” you whimper into the pillow, arching your back and pressing further into him in wanton need.

He licks his lips to get one last taste of you and slides two digits deep inside, giving you no time to adjust to the intrusion before pulling them out to the tip and sinking them back in. His pace rockets up, his tired muscles hard at work as he fucks you with his fingers, the wet sound of your pussy accepting them filling the air.

He wants to hear your voice too, slowing down and leaning over you to slide his fingers beneath your cheek and turn your head to the side so you’re no longer muffled by the pillow. Your gaze catches his and he smiles tenderly at you, pressing a kiss to your temple before returning to his previous position and hooking his fingertips into your g-spot, grinding harshly into it.

Predictably, you yelp, your eyes squeezing shut as he focuses on massaging that sensitive patch, his breath catching as he feels you get wetter around his fingers. You’re moaning now, your brows scrunched with pleasure and your mouth stuck open, and he reaches his free hand up to tap at your bottom lip with two fingers, sliding them into your mouth when you open wider for him.

You suction around them immediately, your tongue laving over his knuckles and bathing his fingers in saliva, and he feels his cock throb in his shorts in response, the memory of your perfect lips around it visceral and precious. He yanks his fingers back before he can get too distracted, reaching around you to sandwich your clit between them.

He starts fucking you with his other hand again, your hips jerking with it, stimulating your clit as he curls his fingertips towards your stomach, tapping your sweet spot with every thrust. It’s not long before you’re gasping out his name and clenching down, your thighs juddering as you fight to hold yourself up through the pleasure.

He doesn’t stop, pinching your clit harder and digging his fingers into you, scissoring them to stretch you out for another. A third squeezes in beside the first two, making you whine and claw at the duvet, your cunt contracting and trying to suck his fingers in deeper when he pulls them out.

“Fuck,” he groans, releasing your clit to press down on your back and deepen the arch, making it even easier for him to hit your g-spot. He wants to be inside of you, desperately, but he wants to make you cum again first, wants you to be so wet, he can just glide right in.

You’re getting close, he can tell by the way you’re pushing back into his thrusts and sobbing, and he doesn’t know what possesses him to say it, but it just feels so fucking right that he can’t stop the words from coming out.

“Cum for me and I’ll breed you full.”

You suck in a sharp gasp and bear down, your pussy rippling and leaking and fever hot as you break apart beneath him, your arousal soaking his hand and dripping down his wrist. It seems like it lasts forever, though he’s sure it helps that he’s still fucking his fingers into your g-spot as much as your tightness will allow.

He knows you’re done when you whimper brokenly and pull away from his touch, your hand reaching back to hold his wrist in place so he doesn’t follow you. He decides to let you catch your breath, sliding off the bed to shed his shorts and wipe his hand off on a towel, bringing it with him so he can spread it out under you like he should have done before.

You’re on your side when he returns, and he climbs back onto the mattress before carefully tugging at your shoulder and hip, pulling you to rest on your back and waiting for you to look at him.

When your eyes blink open, they’re teary and dazed, and you watch as he gathers a couple pillows, weakly lifting your hips just enough for him to slide them under you and lay the towel out on top of them. He’s gentle as he sets his hands on the backs of your knees and pushes your legs up, the angle making it easier for you to keep them tucked to your chest when your hands replace his.

He can tell your head is full of clouds by the way you gaze at him, and he attempts to bring you some clarity by asking, “Remember what I said before?”

You think for a second, your lips pouting as you try to recall, and he can’t resist leaning down over you and pressing his mouth to yours, his teeth nipping at your bottom lip before he soothes the sting with his tongue.

When he pulls away, it seems to come to you, and your eyes clear up just a bit as you respond, “You said you’d breed me full if I came for you.”

“Good, baby, that’s right. So what do you think I’m going to do now?” He asks, sitting back up on his knees and shuffling closer to lay his aching cock on your wet pussy, just barely grinding against you.

“You’re gonna-,” you take in a halting breath. “You’re gonna breed me?”

“Yeah, honey,” he nods with a hungry smirk, shifting his hips back enough to line himself up before pressing forward a few inches and popping the head of his cock inside of you. “I’m gonna fuck you full of my cum, until it’s dripping out of you. And then I’m gonna fuck it back in, and fill you up even more. Until it takes.”

You whimper from deep in your throat, pressing your lips together and readjusting your grip on your legs, your eyes darting down to stare yearningly at his cock.

“Do you want that?” He whispers, working himself in as slowly as he can manage, teasing both you and himself.

You just nod, but he wants to hear you say it, needs to hear it from your own lips.

“Tell me then.”

“I- I want you to fill me up with your cum, fuck a baby into me, please.”

He sinks the rest of his cock inside of you, covering your hands with his and spreading your legs wider, pushing them into your chest and resting his weight on them as he draws back and snaps forward.

He’s not gentle now, and he’s definitely not slow, his hips smacking into your ass as he thrusts forcefully into you, his grunts of exertion soon joining the cries escaping you. You’re staring up at him with stars in your eyes, your fingers tight on your thighs beneath his and your pussy fucking flawless around him, and he’s never been so in love.

That’s a thought he has constantly but he means it every single time, his devotion to you endless and all consuming.

His appetite for you is voracious enough to rival it; the need, the sheer greed that he feels when it comes to you stripping him down to his basest desires. He’s only human in the end, and nothing could be more human than the urge to love you, to fuck you, to breed you, to keep you. He knows you’re his already but beyond that ring on your finger, there’s one other thing that could show the world you belong to each other, and that includes pumping you so full of his cum, it sticks.

He’s getting close already just thinking about it, and the way you’re clenching and fluttering around him doesn’t help in the slightest. He wouldn’t mind breaking this early though, not when it means he can just get hard again and fuck his cum even deeper into you.

“Joshie,” you whine in the voice that means you’re inches away from the edge, and he feels his body respond, his heavy balls drawing up tight and his cock hardening further within you.

“Cum whenever you want, baby. I’m not stopping anytime soon,” he vows darkly, fully intent on keeping you in this bed and on his dick for the rest of the day. Maybe for the rest of his life.

You shudder at his words, gasping when he shifts his hips and changes the angle, the head of his cock now bullying right into your g-spot. He can’t hit as deep like this but he knows it’ll be enough to unravel you, and that’s exactly what he wants.

He grins wickedly when you start to ripple around him, knowing the waves of your orgasm are beginning to overtake you, and when it’s at its peak, he sinks in deep and lets you carry him with you. He groans roughly at the feeling of your undulating walls milking his cock, relief and bone deep satisfaction filling him as he fills you.

He doesn’t stop, doesn’t even slow down, fucking you through the sensitivity and burying his cum deeper inside of you. You buck against him in overstimulation, crying out his name with tears in your voice, and he feels his cock twitch and get harder, your pussy like a molten velvet vise around him.

An hour and two more loads pass by in a blur, every minute melting into the next as he ruts into you, barely pulling back enough to get any friction but grinding into your sweet spot to keep you pliant. He thinks he might’ve fucked you dumb, no words escaping your parted lips and no thoughts behind your glassy eyes. You’re still holding your legs up though, and that’s how he knows you’re present enough to hear him.

“Said I would fuck you full, didn’t I, baby?” He laughs breathily, his eyes trained on the sight of his cock thrusting into you, the combination of your arousal and his cum seeping out around him in bursts. “I think you’re pretty fucking full.”

You mumble something but he doesn’t catch it, and he shifts your legs onto his arms and leans down, bracing his hands on the bed to hold himself up. “What was that, honey?”

“Not enough,” you gasp out, releasing your thighs to wrap your arms around his neck. “It’s not enough, Joshie, I want more.”

Your words blend together but he hears them all the same, and a jolt of desire surges through him, traveling down his spine and ending in his cock. He gets his legs under him, trapping you in a mating press so he can put more power behind his hips as his strokes get deeper, longer, your fingernails digging into his neck with every thrust of his aching dick.

“I can give you one more, baby, I’ll give you whatever- whatever you want,” he groans raggedly, his vision blurring and his hips stuttering as he nears the edge for what he fears may be the last time. You clench and squeeze and flutter around him, whimpering, “Please, Joshie, breed me,” and that’s it for him.

This time when he cums, it’s enough to steal his voice, his breath, his thoughts. It’s blinding, the pleasure, but that just means he feels everything. He feels you falling to pieces on his cock, he feels the warmth of the sunset on his back, he feels his heart racing in his chest. He feels his cum filling you again, replacing what he’s fucked out, and more than anything, he feels satiated, like there’s nothing left to give and nothing left to take.

He all but collapses into you, shifting to rest his knees on the bed and dropping your legs from his arms, his face buried in your neck as he trembles and gasps for air. Your cunt is still hugging him tightly, and he winces at the sensitivity of his spent cock but doesn’t pull out, can’t pull out, not when he knows that all of his hard work will go to waste as soon as he does.

You run gentle fingers through his salty hair, your chest slowly rising and falling against his, and his body starts to grow heavy, exhaustion weighing him down and the comfort of your pussy keeping him warm.

He’s asleep before the golden light of the sun fades from the sky.

“Joshua, with everything we said, I have to ask… Have you changed your mind about kids?” You ask softly, your back to his chest and your body between his legs as you laze in the massive hotel bath together.

He presses his lips to your neck and thinks, only for a second, before responding, “No, I’m happy with our life. I don’t need anything but you.”

You let out a sigh of relief and turn in his arms, resting your cheek on his shoulder and tucking your legs up, your knees just barely out of the water. He scoops some up and pours it over you, not wanting you to get cold.

“Good, I feel the same way.”

“Love you,” he murmurs into your hair, kissing your crown and rubbing his hand up and down your back.

“I love you,” you whisper in return. “The breeding kink was hot though, let’s keep that?”

“Oh yeah, baby, for sure.”

AN: for @thatgirlfromwindsor and these anons 💖

Seventeen Masterlist

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munson-blurbs · 2 months

Note

The ending was adorable 🥹 Everyone is going to ask for the proposal and the wedding and all that amazing stuff… but I really want to see the Disney trip and Wayne on Its a Small World 😂

Single Dad!Eddie x Fem!ReaderSeries

Summary: The whole Munson clan embarks on their first trip to Disney World; as expected, it's filled with both magic and mayhem.

WC: 1.8k

A/N: Also requested by @tvserie-s-world!

June 2002

The Munson chaos, as it turns out, is not limited to Hawkins. It tags along everywhere, including family vacations.

Especially family vacations.

“Babe, where’s the sunscreen?” “I wanna see Mickey!” “Ed, have you seen my hat?” “I’m hungry!”

Taking a deep breath, you toss Eddie the bottle of Coppertone, remind Harris that you actually had to get to the Magic Kingdom before seeing any of the characters, find Wayne’s ball cap in the bottom of his suitcase, and scrounge up a baggy of Cheerios for Hendrix.

“Okay, are we ready to go?”

Your question is met with an emphatic chorus of yeses as the five of you leave the hotel room and make a beeline for the shuttle bus.

Eddie tries to scoop Hendrix into his arms; try as he might, your two-year-old’s chubby legs just can’t carry him very far, very fast. He scrunches up his face and squirms out of Eddie’s grasp.

“Wan’ walk!” Hendrix pouts, lower lip jutting out in sheer defiance.

An exasperated sigh escapes Eddie’s lips. “There’s gonna be a lot of walking later, buddy.” But he knows there’s no sense in arguing, and he settles for holding the boy’s hand. He’s heard tales of Disney meltdowns, but he was hoping to avoid one before the day even started.

The Florida heat is no joke. It envelops you like a casing, and you’re grateful for the air conditioned bus. Everyone sits down, Hendrix on your lap, and you lean in to discuss the day’s plans.

“So,” you begin, “I really want to get a picture of all of us in front of the castle. After that, we can split up. I know Harris wants to ride Space Mountain—”

“And Splash Mountain and Big Thunder,” he interjects, a seriousness in his eyes. As though you could have forgotten—all he’s talked about for weeks are those three rides.

You nod in acknowledgment. “One thing at a time.” The reminder is gentle, a nudge to keep him focused on a single goal so he didn’t overwhelm himself. Turning back to the group, you continue the rundown. “Wayne, you’re fine taking Hendrix on a few rides by yourself?”

The older man grins. “Can’t wait to have that damn doll song stuck in my head.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Eddie raise his hand.

“Yes?”

“I’m actually gonna sit Space Mountain out,” he says, sheepishness seeping into his cheeks. “So I can go with Wayne and Hendrix, and then we can all meet up after.”

Harris looks at his father in bewilderment. “Dad, are you afraid?”

“N-No!” Eddie sputters, sighing when you shoot him a glare that tells him to be honest. “I mean, yeah, a little. But you and Mom should still go on it.”

“It’s just you and me, kiddo.” You smile at Harris and return to the task at hand. “And then we’ll all go on the Peter Pan ride together before we grab lunch.”

Everyone nods in agreement, though you know that actually executing the idea will be much more of a challenge. You take the win for now, climbing off of the bus with Hendrix in your arms with the rest of the family behind you.

A jovial melody surrounds you as you enter the Magic Kingdom, putting some extra pep in your step. You feel the excitement building; not just from the boys, but from the adults, too. Neither Eddie nor Wayne have been here before, and they’re just as eager to start the vacation.

Your breath hitches as you make your way down Main Street, U.S.A. and Cinderella Castle finally comes into view.

“I’ll be damned,” Wayne mutters under his breath, his voice breaking slightly. “Looks just like the movie.”

You reach out and take Eddie’s hand, squeezing it gently as the five of you take in the sight. Tears blur your vision, and you can only imagine that Eddie’s experiencing the same.

We did it. We’re at Disney World with our family.

You manage to stave off the tears long enough to ask a Cast Member to snap a photo with your disposable Kodak camera.

“Say cheese!” The woman chirps with a smile of her own, and you all comply–even Wayne.

As soon as the shutter clicks, the usual pandemonium resumes. Harris is tugging on your hand and dragging you towards Tomorrowland.

“Remember, Har,” you say, “we might have to wait in line for a while.” It’s a concept you thoroughly went over prior to the trip, but it never hurts to remind him.

Since you’d started out early, the queue isn’t terribly long; nothing that can’t be handled with a few rounds of I Spy. Before you know it, you’re boarding your tiny rocketship right behind Harris. The ten-year-old is practically bouncing out of his seat, and you’re more than grateful for the lap bar holding him in place.

Harris squeals with delight at each banked turn, even putting his hands in the air as he gets braver towards the end of the ride. Adrenaline buzzes through him when the ride comes to a stop, and he darts for the exit.

“Wait for me!” You call out, and he pauses until you get your very not ten-year-old body out of the cramped vehicle. It used to be a lot easier to stand up when you were his age, but you eventually catch up with Harris to head to Fantasyland.

What you find there is the last thing you would have imagined.

Eddie walks out of one of the myriad gift shops, with Hendrix in his arms and Wayne beside both of them. Your younger son has a pair of Mickey Mouse ears on his head, and one in his hands–for Harris, you assume–but what’s out of the ordinary is what the men are wearing.

“Oh…my…god!” You cackle, and Harris joins you when he sees his dad and grandpa wearing matching tall Goofy hats, the floppy ears swaying against their cheeks.

Eddie grins, doing a small spin that proves more difficult when carrying a two-year-old. “How do we look?” He asks.

Stifling further laughter, you shake your head. “Incredible.” When you reach him, you give him a quick peck on the lips. “I’ve never been more attracted to you than I am right now.”

“I think that says more about you than it does me, Sweetheart.”

Harris takes his souvenir from his little brother and slides the string under his chin. Both of them look absolutely precious, and you snap another picture before either can protest.

“Oh, one last thing.” Eddie reaches into a mouse-printed bag and pulls out a gold plastic tiara, covered in glitter with a photo of Belle in the center. He carefully places it atop your head and you secure it against your scalp. “There,” he murmurs, “pretty like a princess.”

A warmth settles into you that is unrelated to the humidity. You swear you could gaze into his eyes for an eternity, losing yourself in the hazel flecks that accentuated the chocolate irises—

“It’s Mickey!”

You follow where Hendrix is pointing; sure enough, the world’s most famous mouse was walking to a designated spot, flanked by an entourage of handlers. It’s the opposite direction of Peter Pan’s Flight, but you’re not about to compete with Mickey Mouse himself.

Hendrix’s jubilation wanes as he gets closer to the character, chubby fingers digging into Eddie’s biceps. When he reaches the front of the line, he begins outright wailing, face buried in his dad’s shirt.

Frowning, you try to peel him away. “Hendrix, it’s our turn!” You tell him, trying to rebuild the excitement with no success. “Don’t you wanna meet Mickey?”

“Too scary!” He sobs, his little body shaking with fear.

You look at your husband, pushing away the urge to freeze up and throw a tantrum of your own. “Okay, I’ll take Hendrix; you and Wayne stay with Har—”

But Harris is faster, nudging between you and Eddie to place a hand on his brother’s back. “Hen, you don’t have to be scared. I’m gonna be right there with you.” He glances at Mickey, then back at Hendrix. “I know he’s a lot bigger than on TV, but he’s not going to hurt you.”

The crying subsides, save for a few hiccups. Hendrix sloppily wipes at his damp cheeks and holds his arms out so Harris can take him. They walk hand-in-hand, the youngest Munson glued to his big brother’s side.

Harris waves at Mickey, imploring Hendrix to do the same. He obliges, albeit timidly, but there’s no mistaking the joyful giggle that escapes him when Mickey returns the gesture.

Eddie laces his fingers with yours, metal rings warm from the summer sun. “Can you get a picture of this?” You nod and reluctantly let go of him, forever capturing the moment with the click of a button.

The rest of the day is spent waiting in line, riding attractions with colorful scenery, scarfing down Mickey-shaped food items, and taking a much-needed midday nap at the hotel. The sleep recharges you enough to head back out to the park after dinner.

The sun begins to set, though the temperature barely drops a single degree. Your group finds a bench right outside Liberty Square. Wayne sits with Hendrix on his lap, Eddie next to him, and you take a seat at the end. Harris stays standing, leaning against the wooden back only to help him get his jumps out.

“Ladies and gentleman, boys and girls!” A cheerful disembodied voice comes over the park’s sound system. “Our fireworks presentation, Fantasy in the Sky, is about to begin. Thank you!”

You dig in your bag and pull out some wax earplugs for Harris. Hendrix extends his hand for his own pair, always wanting to be just like his big brother.

Fireworks light up the sky, bright pink and blue and green hues that leave wispy trails of smoke in their wake. Harris keeps his fingers pressed to his ears to block out any additional noise, but it doesn’t detract from the smile on his face.

Perhaps the only person more enamored with the show is Wayne. The lights illuminate his awe-struck face, mouth agape, as though he’s in disbelief of the magic surrounding him.

Eddie leans down to kiss your forehead and you rest your head on his shoulder. “Havin’ a good time, Sweetheart?” he mumbles against your skin.

You nod, looking up and pressing your lips to his cheek. “Are you?”

He takes in the sight of his sons and his uncle, together in a place he’s only ever dreamed of visiting. And he has you by his side; more than that, you are the reason he’s here at all.

“I’ve never been happier.”

#eddie munson #eddie stranger things #eddie x reader #eddie x you #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x f!reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things fanfic #fanfic #eddie munson stranger things #stranger things #tui

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brooklynisher · 6 days

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Do you have any other obscure spg characters u wanna ramble about bc I genuinely didn't know taggart was like . A Thing (am I even spelling his name right)(I do not know how to spell)

WELL I'm not as thinky thonky with these other characters as I am with the Babclocks, but here are some random ones to throw at you!

Marylin Verato and Jaquelyn Pomene [x]

Harold (from Steam Powered Giraffe accounting, been working since he was 5)

Diet Seven-Up (Engineer in the aesthetic prosthetic division, came from Cherry Cola Slovakia)

Lars (stuck in the hedge maze, became a Gardner, but he's having a pretty fun time)

[x]

I'mma keep them to Patreon but those guys are definitely some guys

Whatever this thing is??????

[x]

EDIT: ALSO here's some ones I barely remember existed

Bip Has the soda brand Also a place in Kazooland, "The capital of Merveille was named after its founder, and is a favorite spot for vacation for Peter Walter VI. It was also in Bip that the Great War of 1823 was ended by a mysterious mime with a magical kazoo." [x]

Doctor Laborday An old hero Rabbit compared to Rex Marksley

Howard Lloyd "This large sprawling landscape of suburbia is a metropolis of 1950's ideals, where the beautiful residents are protected from the ravages of time by a blue matter rich force field over the city. Created by a visionary man from Earth after slipping through an interdimensional rift, Howard Lloyd saw the potential of the unstable rift and created what some have called the 1950s utopia of mankind. Those who enter the city rarely decide to leave the prospect of eternal youth, but some do choose to escape Preferbia's roving gangs of fish mutants and frequent attacks by the Hypexion Moon Worms" [x]

The Highwayman

Lily Brennan

Boft

^ I remember reading about The Highwayman but I don't know where

#steam powered giraffe #spg #ask #dumbdless #marylin verato #jaquelyn pomene

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thedreemer-artrequestsopen · 4 months

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❗️Avengers Mission Ideas for you to use to your hearts content❗️

My all time favorite, an absolute classic in my opinion is the Deep Cover Mission! But my specific favorite is having to play house in deep cover! there’s so many different combinations, Sam being the Dad, Natasha being so short that Fury thinks she can pass as a child, it can just be so funny. Like in my DR, The Young Avengers have this mission (Kamala, Kate Bishop, Yelena, RiRi Williams, Wasp, America. Theres more but they’re added later) and, Kate and Kamala had been fighting for months over who’s team leader. So they’re naturally arguing over who’s gonna be the dad 😭 (it escalates to the point they’re trying to decide who looks better in a tie)

POWER SWAP!! Ok technically it’s not a mission but there are so many marvel comics villains it’s had to have happened ONCE. It could happen before or during a battle, some crazy guy swaps your powers around! Same thing with Body Swap which is basically the same thing. I just think it’d be funny if Tony swapped with Natasha (but Natasha had Thor’s body or something) And you’d all have to stop fumbling over yourselves and train to master your powers!!

also for your Marvel DR- GIVE YOURSELF YOUR OWN TEAM OF VILLAINS!! ITS ICONIC!! Spider-Man and the Sinister Six… uh… nobody else but like Spider-Man is iconic

on this note: you have your own Vigilante/Anti-Hero Ally! That is if you aren’t a vigilante already.

this one’s a lot more specific but there’s this Fourth Wall Breaking Villain (that I initially saw in X-Men 97) called Mojo! (Look him up his design is… something) and he’s obsessed with TV and ratings. Basically he sends you all through a bunch of different show and Movie Genres, trying to get you all to fight eachother or kill monsters! (And drama, that’s good for ratings, he’ll try to get under your skin) until you all, of course, eventually defeat him! If any of u are confused the X-men 90’s show episode he’s in is: Season 2 episode 11, MojoVision

another one stolen from the X-Men show: you and the avengers (also these apply to any team, I’ll add some space-y ones for the uhh Guardians shifters and more neighborhood ones too!) You all decide to go on a nice, normal vacation! Fun in the sun or a nice winter cabin! Even better, everyone is so friendly!… that would be it if they weren’t trying to kill you, a battle ensues, you reign victorious but uh- those swimsuits or skis sure did go to a waste :[

another semi deep cover but I listened to “Sway” by uh Micheal Buble I think and “Masquerade” by siouxxe sixxta. You’re like the key to the mission, playing as a preformor of some kind, you’re all at a party amongst criminals, and it’s all your cue. (Points if you keep singing or whatever while fighting like dance fight!!!)

A spacey one!!! You have to make a pitstop at a notoriously violent planet, known for its scary inhabitants. And… they’re literally the cutest guys ever. Like… those guys from Star Wars, The Ewoks!!! But they’re being hurt/hunted by a big scary alien thing so you defeat that and also earn a new ally!!

my personal favorite (I could write like 2 pages of headcanons off of this) as a team building exorcise/community support booster, you all have to babysit a class of kids for the day!! I hav SO MANY IDEAS FOR THIS. Like Peter Parker just getting trampled and bullied by a bunch of 6 year olds, Natasha would definitely get along with all the kids, if the Guardians were there… Drax would be so good with them like I’d Cry. Quill would get kicked in the balls (it’s inevitable) Gamora would be disgusted at the tiny things at first but warm up to a kid that reminds her of herself, Groot would be a playground and Rocket WILL be put into a dress. I feel like Thor would do something really dangerous for “fun” 😭 (IM A HUNDRED PERCENT WRITING A FIC ON THIS)

another idea!! A Carmen Sandiego type mission! Stealing from a museum and returning the artifacts back to their cultures! And just interfering heists and going against the government sometimes.

some Villains I think would be cool to fight: Modok, Big Wheel, MasterMind, Rat King and Beyonder (Moon Girl and Devil Dinosaur), Morlun, she’s not a villain but imagine getting your ass beat by the Unbeatable Squirrel Girl… even avengers have to be humbled sometimes.

A Halloween Special! With everyone dressed up, it’s hard to tell who’s the villain! But when a big crime goes down, it’s Trick or Beat (that wasn’t funny I’m sorry 😞)

Some Quickfire ideas: You all get turned into Animals! You get sent to the ✨future✨ (or the past) and make allies and have to find your way back. Having to be a bodyguard for a celebrity. Fighting a villain who can clone themselves. Getting over your fear in a mission (fighting clowns or something like that).

ok ok… Istg I’ll stop with the deep cover missions BUT two more: You and your Comfort Character getting set up together and having to pretend to be a couple for a mission. (Bet it was Maria Hill who set you two up I love her sm)

Going deep cover into a cult, a few of you. And the weakest link starts falling for the cult’s tactics 😭😭 (Plot taken straight from MLP season 5 but I kinda love it tbh) I feel like uhh Peter or Kate bishop would be like “I dunno guys, it’s so sweet and everyone is sooo sweet!” @oliver-shifts @shiftingwithhale @florashifting @achilleslefttoe @romanoffshifting

I have so many more like character specific ones!! One I forgot was a Scooby-Doo type mystery on a boat with Bucky and Sam, they both get super scared and paranoid abt the local legends of a ghost pirate or lighthouse ghost, something like that, but you’re all heroes and have to brave thru it.

#anti shifters dni #shiftblr #shifting realities #black shifters #reality shifting #reality shift #shifting to mcu #marvel mcu #mcu #mcu shifting #marvel shifting

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crepesuzette2023 · 3 months

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What’s a fic that made you cry ?

Thank you for asking—and for immediately sending me off on a brief 'meta' slingshot trajectory around my own navel! (Don't worry, I'll answer your question.)

Your ask reminded me of the fact that I almost never cry over stories. I either enjoy them, or I'm shaking with rage, if they're too painful. For a story to hit the sweet spot of undiluted sadness, of simply being moved, without spouting angry tirades in my mind trying to argue with the sad events of the story, is pretty special.

For this reason, the stories your ask made me think of are among my favorites. Sorry if I mentioned some of them before, but here we are.

(I'll mention some spoiler-y and hopefully brief explanations under the cut.)

Miracle Worker by @scurator. Still Mates by @pauls1967moustache. The late, great, johnny ace by @midchelle. Coast Starlight by bookofapril. All I Know Since Yesterday by RedheadAmongWolves.

I guess what the three quote unquote saddest stories in this list have in common, to me, is that they're a big, noble Fuck You to the ultimate adversary, everyone's final lover, the great oblivion, etc.: Death—while at the same time summoning its inevitability. It will get you, even if you love a Beatle. Even if you are one.

So, you better hold on tight and make the most of it while you can (she says, typing these lines on tumblr while seizing the fuck out of her instant coffee flavor).

Miracle Worker is about Paul and Robert Fraser making love after John's death. It's about death, and fading physical beauty, and the untarnished beauty between them. The guttering flame. Yes, it's very hot, and both sad and invigorating—like a good cry, but without the ugliness of anything as overt as crying.

Still Mates is about Peter Asher giving himself permission to reject a life of politely closeted desire by sleeping with Paul, his sister's ex, in '68. It's a story about courage, and the ability to face who you are and who you want. I'm sorry for sounding like a movie trailer. It's also a fantastically realized outsider's perspective on the beauty of J/P turning ugly, and on the mystery surrounding this legendary relationship—the elusiveness of Paul's soul is in striking contrast with Peter's hot but mundane physical closeness to Paul, the man.

The late, great johnny ace is a ghost story that denies being a ghost story, but at the last moment can't resist reaching for comfort. (At least that's what I choose to believe.) Paul, George and Ringo make a record in 1981. Paul writes Here Today. The ghost is John. The 'at the end of all things' atmosphere is shattering, but the music in Paul's soul, and the surviving bonds of friendship, and, just possibly, John's ghost, prevail.

Bonus: crying/tears without sadness

Sometimes a story is so beautiful it makes my eyes well up with it.

Coast Starlight is about a world where Paul and Robert Fraser are together in the 70's, and they're vacationing on Fire Island, and they fuck a lot, each other and others (together), and it's fine. More than fine. It's heaven on earth. As I said before, I really can't do this story justice. The relief (what a weak word) I felt in the end, when Paul realizes he can let go of his burdens and be loved for who he is (by Robert, who is giving this to him), nearly had me speaking in tongues of the awesome power of fiction.

All I Know Since Yesterday is about two teenagers in love, without either of them having told the other. They're sheltering at one of their houses after being caught in a rain storm, and dream about the future. A future with each other. And, finally, they kiss. The teenagers are John and Paul. And what I love about the story is that you feel throughout that this is the beginning of something big. The kiss is both sweet and elemental.

#fic recs #asks #mclennon #mclennon fanfiction #the beatles fanfiction #makes me cry fic recs

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anonymityisfunwriter · 11 months

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The Jar

☀️Part of The Grumpy x Sunshine Series☀️

"I could do this all day."

"Jar!" Sam shouts, sitting beside you as you watch Steve and Peter in the middle of a training session.

"What?" Steve squawks, stepping off the training mat. "No! That's like the third time this week!"

"Well, maybe you should think about the things you say," Sam retorts.

"Jar?" Peter questions, looking to you and Sam.

"Hero jar," you explain.

"For when someone does something heroic?"

"For when we start acting like hero stereotypes, Steve," Sam pointedly remarks, gesturing to the jar in the corner of the training room. Steve grumbles something under his breath, before pulling out his wallet and trudging over to the jar, "That includes catchphrases!"

"Just for saying catchphrases?" Peter asks.

"No." You shake your head, wondering how you could explain the jar to Peter, "It's like...Like when Sam starts talking about Redwing like he's a real person. Or when James complains about Redwing. When Nat does that pose in the middle of a mission."

"Or when Mr. Stark makes a sarcastic joke when he's getting beat up?" Peter guesses.

"Exactly!"

"So what's your thing?" Peter wonders, turning to you.

"Me? Pfft.. I don't do anything like that," you scoff, dismissively waving your hand.

"Oh, please," Sam humorously snorts. "You're just as bad as everyone else."

You indignantly huff, crossing your arms, "I am not!"

"You absolutely are!" Sam turns to Peter, "Her thing is when she tries to make friends with the bad guys. Or when she goes on and on about seeing the humanity in everyone-"

"Or when she wears obscenely bright clothes on missions," Steve adds. "Do you know how hard it is to camouflage yellow?"

"Or when-"

"Alright, alright, Peter gets it!" you interject.

"Wait, so why do I never have to put money in the jar?" Peter asks the room.

Steve claps a hand on Peter's shoulder, "Oh, you do, but Tony usually does it for you."

"Sam didn't think it was fair, but Tony puts in 100's for you and we're saving it for a vacation," you explain.

"And with how often Steve has to put money in the jar, we should be there any day now," Sam teases.

Grumpy Sunshine Series Grumpy Sunshine Drabbles AnonymityIsFun Masterlist

Reblogs and comments are always appreciated 💛

Taglist: @marianita195 @meli18gonzalez@ludicbouquetfromearth@matchat3a@famousbreadcherryblossomsstuff@valoraxx@blue786sworld@buckyandgeraltsupremacy@geminigengar@ansaturn@ecolle@lexhalstead3@ybflkmj@mediocre-daydreams@shanye1112@thegirlnextdoorssister@toomanyfanficsbruh@moonlightreader649@breathtaking-cynthia@mirikusashes@beans-and-toast@niyahcoca@katiechikin@elxvrr@antiheroxsblog@infamouslyclumsy@krissydclayton93 @buckysbarne @deadheadwbedhead @qualitygiantshoepsychic

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denimbex1986 · 5 months

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'David Tennant had it all. As the tenth Doctor he was a fan-favourite with a run of episodes that reached more than 13 million viewers in the UK – a record for the modern revival of Doctor Who, which almost rivalled its 1970s heyday. He left on his own terms in 2010 rather than being shoved aside for a younger, cooler star (in fact, the BBC wanted him to stay longer). His legacy set him up for lucrative convention appearances and fan worship for life, while his post-Who career is flourishing. So why risk it all by returning?

“I hadn’t thought about it like that,” Tennant laughs. “Thank God I made it to this point! It never really occurred to me to worry about that. Perhaps it should have done…but with Catherine [Tate] being part of it, and with Russell [T Davies] writing the scripts, I never actually worried about anything other than my own ability to run as fast as I used to.”

In fairness, while the return of old favourites to a stage they’ve vacated can sometimes tarnish a legacy, Tennant’s Doctor is a special case. Apart from Tom Baker, it’s hard to think of a Doctor Who star who so captured the public’s imagination. At the height of his career on the show, Tennant was plastered on magazine covers and lunchboxes; he was accosted in the street. In 2009, he was the BBC’s Christmas ident. By the time he left, aged 39, one suspects he could have been reading the phone book to a Dalek and viewers would still have tuned in.

Happily this comeback, announced to great fanfare last year, is a little more involved than that. “The first conversation we had about it was very casual,” Tennant recalls. “Russell and Catherine were talking about the notion of: ‘What if we got the band back together for one last special? But David would never do it.’ And I said, ‘What do you mean I’d never do it? I’d do it in a shot. And then suddenly, we were back for three in a row.

“I mean, why not?” he laughs. “It was such a joyous time, and these are people I love as humans, and certainly love as people to work with. And Doctor Who is something that will always be hugely important to me.”

In fact, there’s a case to be made that the 52-year-old Tennant – who’s speaking to us the day after his birthday, ever committed to the show – never really left Doctor Who behind in the first place. Yes, he’s had many successes since – Broadchurch, Good Omens, Des, Marvel’s Jessica Jones and Staged to name but a few – but he’s always kept a foot in the TARDIS door. After all, it was just three years after his dramatic regeneration that he teamed up with his successor Matt Smith for 2013’s 50th-anniversary special.

“I was sort of a member of the guest cast on that, because it was Matt’s show,” says Tennant now. “It’s different when you’re in charge of the TARDIS again. There’s a lot more work to do. I remember on the 50th, going, ‘Oh, this is easy. I used to have to learn far more lines than this!’”

Two years after that, Tennant was back headlining his own Doctor Who stories for a series of audio dramas co-starring – and this sounds familiar – ex-companion Catherine Tate. He’s kept playing the Doctor that way ever since, lending his voice to audio plays and (more recently) video games starring his character.

The Doctor even looms large in Tennant’s personal life. He married a guest actor on the series – Georgia Moffett, who appeared in a 2008 episode with him – which means his father-in-law is former fifth Doctor Peter Davison. He also has a police box cut-out in his garden. Given all this, it’s hard to imagine why Davies and Tate thought this on-screen return would be a hard sell.

“The truth is, it’s a rather lovely, benevolent, generous thing to be connected with. I love it. I always have, and I’m sure I always will,” says Tennant. “I grew up with posters on my wall signed by Tom Baker. It’s very peculiar that I should end up in the show that was, to a greater or lesser extent, the thing that inspired me to be in the profession I’m in.

“It runs through my life as if through a stick of rock, really. As you say, I met my wife on the set of Doctor Who, and I’m now a father. I’ve given up trying to resist the inevitability that Doctor Who will be following me around for the rest of time.”

Instead, he’s embraced it. So, this week he returns as the Doctor on BBC1 – but not the same one he played before. Originally, Tennant says the plan was for him and Tate to return for the anniversary in a flashback episode, set during their shared 2008 series and with a storyline completely different from the specials as they now exist.

“It would have been an unseen adventure from years before,” he says. “Russell immediately had an idea for a story, which I’m not going to mention because I don’t think it’s yet seen the light of day. It certainly wouldn’t have been part of an ongoing story. But I hope one day he does use it because it sounded great.”

But Davies’s return to the BBC fold as the new Who showrunner changed everything. “Then Russell decided he was coming back full-time and the whole thing blossomed,” says Tennant. Suddenly, the one-off had turned into a trio of specials for Doctor Who’s 60th anniversary.

Davies tells me later: “It was simply as many episodes as David and Catherine could do. If they had said, ‘We’ve got time to make 12,’ we would have made 12. If they had said, ‘We’ve got time to make one,’ then we’d have made one. But I think a one-off would have been a disappointment.”

And it was a flashback no longer. Instead, Tennant plays a new (and official) incarnation of the Doctor that follows on from his younger self and the Doctors that came after – Matt Smith, Peter Capaldi and Jodie Whittaker – in a way that’s woven into the story of the specials (titled The Star Beast, Wild Blue Yonder and The Giggle).

“That’s part of what the Doctor himself is struggling with: why is he here?” says Tennant. “Why has he got this face back, and what might that mean? Though you’re still in a recognisably Doctor Who world, and I think that’s right and proper,” he adds. “It gets you back into those stories that you know and love and recognise, with some elements in there that are unexpected.”

In particular, he says that the second and third specials go in unusual directions. “With two and three, Russell has written Doctor Who like I have never seen it before,” he reveals. “He’s come back to it with a whole new raft of ideas and enthusiasm. I’m just very chuffed to be able to be part of that.”

But of course, he’s not going to be part of it for long. Davies describes Tennant’s new incarnation as a “Magnesium Doctor” – in other words, he burns brightly but not for long – because at the end of the third special, airing on 9 December, he’ll regenerate into new Doctor Ncuti Gatwa. The 31-year-old Sex Education star takes over for the Christmas special, followed by a full series next year (and beyond – he’s already filming episodes that will be shown in 2025).

“I have seen a bit of Ncuti, and he’s magnificent,” Tennant says. “He’s just got such an energy. He’s so creative, and he’s inventive, and he’s funny, and he’s a proper actor. I think he’s going to be great.

“I’ve met Millie Gibson [new companion Ruby], and she seems lovely, too. I haven’t got a chance to see any of her stuff yet, but they seem great together. I’m jealous of the adventure they’ve got in front of them.”

When asked if he has any advice for his successor, Tennant seems vaguely horrified – “What would I say? I mean, literally, what would I say?” I suggest he might prepare Gatwa to return in about 18 years. “Well, he’s young,” Tennant laughs. “He’ll get into the 100th anniversary, probably. I don’t know if I’ll make it that far. Though if I can keep running fast enough –

I don’t know. I never imagined that I would be sitting there for the 60th anniversary, talking about three specials we’d made. This show continues to surprise everyone involved with it.”

Still, it must be hard to hand over the TARDIS so soon after getting hold of it again. Was there a moment, just for a second, where he thought about snatching back the sonic screwdriver, barricading the studio and staying on for a full series?

Even as a lifelong fan, he says not. “It was never on the table,” Tennant says firmly. “The story – well, as soon as I start to talk about this, we get into the area of spoilers, so I’m not going to say any more. All I know is that I’m excited and jealous of everything that Ncuti has in front of him. And I can’t wait to enjoy it as a viewer, because I think he’s magnificent.”

He laughs. “I think they thought, ‘Let the old man run around for a minute – and then we’ll get a nice, young bloke in.’ ”'

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destinyc1020 · 2 months

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She said I'm done promoting this stupid movie lol

https://twitter.com/21metgala/status/1760043364961980817?t=FM9lVeo7tQDRtdhBV8oahw&s=19

Sony, I have no words,such a disaster,I'm afraid for spiderman 4 now,they will drag it like they want it,bc they need money

ROTFL! She said, get me out of here and let me go on vacation with my man! LOL 😅🤣

That movie was a disaster smh...🤦🏾‍♀️ I actually wanted it to do well lol. Like I said before, I have nothing against Sony. I don't hate Sony with a vengeance like most Spider-Man fans lol. I LIKE to see people win. I like a well-done movie. But that movie Madame Web was one I couldn't in good faith say was a good movie lol. I'm sorry lol...

RE: SM4....

I feel like something is going to have to give eventually. I don't see how both Sony AND Disney/Marvel are going to be able to get their way. They will either each have to compromise, or go their separate ways.

Honestly?? If Sony would just do a a GROUNDED, street-level Spider-Man film with Tom's Spider-Man for Part 4, I wouldn't mind seeing them detach from the MCU.👀 Now that the OG Avengers are dead, I really don't need Tom's Spider-Man attached the the MCU. JMHO. I know I'll get pelted with tomatoes for saying that, but I've been feeling this way for years. The MCU has become so complicated over the past several years, and I would actually like to see Peter Parker/Spider-Man fighting is OWN battles w/out Ironman and any other "surprise" Avengers coming in to save the day for him.

If Sony could just do a stand-alone Spider-Man Movie with Tom just like they did with Tobey and Andrew's franchises, I actually wouldn't be mad at that! But it seems like everyone wants to attach Tom's Spider-Man to OTHER projects and future films (or other actors) in order to keep the hype and money flowing. They need to work on creating a GREAT script FIRST, and then worry about the future imo.

Just because NWH had Tobey and Andrew in it, it doesn't mean that every single Tom SM movie has to now include Tobey and Andrew! You're not going to get the same fanfare for SM4 with Tobey and Andrew being in the film "just because" like you got for NWH because NWH was a resolution to a buildup that took years to do and 2 prior films to develop!

I honestly don't know what Sony OR Marvel are thinking smh. 😩

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911bts · 2 years

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article • 9-1-1's Peter Krause breaks down that emotional rescue — and teases what's up with Jonah

plot points mentioned:

something will happen with Jonah that will make Bobby feel responsible

Seeing Claudette die will hit May very hard

Bobby is trying to not beat himself up too much about Jonah

Bobby spirals a bit because of the Jonah stuff and Eddie is there to help

Each individual family will be coming together

as well as a large 911 family get togther

Bobby surprises Athena with a honeymoon/vacation

#articles #911 spoilers #911 fox #5x17 #5x18 #5x16 #s5

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quill-of-thoth · 2 months

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Letters from Watson: The Cardboard Box

Part 1: The fun bits

Watson's yearning for a vacation somewhere cooler is both very relatable and another reason to assume this is taking place prior to meeting Mary Morstan - he doesn't have the funds to leave town.

(This may shed light on Holmes' insistence on bringing him to cases that are outside of London - the scenery is nice even when the crime is grim, and if Holmes himself is already going to lodge somewhere, or be put up by his clients overnight, it costs Watson little more than a train ticket to join him. Especially how often they share a double-bedded room, aka a room with two beds.)

Holmes' appreciation (or lack of appreciation) for nature should always be understood in relation to Watson's appreciation for Romanticism, a literary and philosophical movement that emphasized the expression of intense emotion and also glorified pastoralism and a predictably skewed 18th century idea of nature.

Yes, when Tumblr talks about romanticizing something this is in fact the origin of that phrase / idea. For once we all get an A in media literacy.

As a literary tradition Romanticism lived and died in conversation with Realism, which appears to be Holmes' favorite.

Romanticism petered out as a movement (though not necessarily as a literary style) in the 1850's, while Realism arose (in france) in the 1840's. Given that my estimation of Holmes and Watson's ages is that they were in their early 20's in 1881, they would have both grown up with literature of both styles available.

Speaking of literature, Holmes mentioning "one of Poe's sketches" is undoubtedly referring to The Murders in Rue Morgue, an 1841 short story often credited with being the first modern detective story.

Holmes following Watson's train of thought is the exact same scene as in The Resident Patient, starting with the phrase "Our blinds were half-drawn." See that post for timeline context information regarding Henry Ward Beecher.

Once again, this case is filled with mentions of Holmes or Watson reading aloud to each other, a type of companionship I can only compare to chasing your family or roommates around to show them a tumblr post.

Lestrade's here! There's a reason he's a fan favorite (other than repetition) because he's so helpful in pointing out a case.

An antimacassar is a cloth made to cover the top and back of an upholstered armchair - most of us probably think of a circular doily if we've ever thought of that kind of decoration at all, but it's really a way to keep the chair clean. Given that victorian hair products are, uh, greasy. Miss Cushing is embroidering one.

Holmes' forensic evidence is much as it always is - some doubtful inferences based on handwriting analysis, some more scientific observations regarding the materials. I can confirm that tissues cut with a scalpel, even by inexperienced hands, tend to be relatively neat: scalpels are very sharp and they basically force you to hold them like a pencil, which is good for small and precise cuts.

Also, and I know this for legitimate work purposes I promise: the skin and cartilage of an ear do not tend to match up after you cut them with a scalpel, because you usually have to make one pass through the skin and one through the harder tissue. The ear is also a convex shape with very thin skin, and skin tends to... shrink on itself, once cut. Especially if you let it dry out. And if you're bad at scalpels that can show up more obviously post skin shrinkage, depending on how the collagen retracts.

#Letters from Watson #legitimate work purposes being I used to process tissue samples #Actually going to be doing that again for next job but a greater variety #less ear based

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evan4ever · 1 year

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Can you do one of Evan meeting a single mom??? Please and thank you!

For the single mamas, keeping rocking on 🤟🏻

Just a short lil fic!

y/c/n = your child’s name

y/h/s = your home state

—

You were on vacation visiting California, Los Angeles to be exact. It had always been a dream to be in this place, to feel the warm sun on your skin and see the palm trees towering above you. You finally saved up enough to make it happen, now you, your child, and your mother are walking along the streets of Hollywood taking in each and everything you can. It was like a dream come true, a place you longed for. If you could stay here forever, you would.

“Oh! Maybe we could stop and see the wax figures?” Your mom suggested as you came to a stop in front of the building. You grinned and nodded.

“Yeah for sure! Maybe we’ll see Johnny Depps fi— y/c/n, hey! watch where you’re going!” You call out just as your child runs into a man, knocking your kid off his feet. You groan in embarrassment as you bend down to retrieve your 5 year old who had tan ahead of you, picking him up and setting him beside you and leveling yourself with him. “What did I say about running ahead of me?” You scolded before grabbing his hand and standing up, turning to apologize to the man your child ran into.

“I’m so sorry about that” you shook your head, rubbing your forehead as you blinked up to the man, immediately recognizing him. He gave you a kind and reassuring smile while you stood wide eyed.

“Don’t worry about it, it happens. Sometimes our feet go so fast we can’t stop them, right buddy?” He grinned down at y/c/n, them nodding happily back at him.

The man met your eyes again and pressed his lips together back into a kind smile and stuck his hand out. “I’m Evan.”

You glanced down at his hands then back up to his eyes and took his hand carefully. “I’m y/n.” You were a pretty big fan of Evan back in your AHS days, of course a Tate lover as the teenager you were. Now standing before Evan Peters himself, you were pretty lost for words.

He, having been through this many times in his life, could tell you were a fan, but not bothered by it of course. In fact, you caught his eye. You were beautiful.

“It’s nice to meet you y/n. And you too buddy!” Evan grinned widely down at your child, raising his hand as y/c/n gave him a high five excitedly. You let out a breathless chuckle at the interaction and how great Evan was with y/c/n.

“It’s nice to meet you too. Um… sorry again, for him running into you like that.” You cleared your throat still unsure of what else to say, meanwhile your mother was long gone exploring the wax museum.

Evan shook his head dismissing your worry. “Really, it’s no problem. Are you guys from around here?” He asked, shaking your head again.

“No, just visiting. We’re actually from y/h/s.” You finally got the nerve to smile now, your nerves calming as Evan had a nice casual conversation with you.

“Wow, that’s a ways away. Are you enjoying it here?” He continued.

“Oh yeah, very much. I’ve been saving up for a few years to take a trip here. If I could stay here forever I absolutely would.” You laughed lightly, Evan nodding along with your every word.

“Well welcome! LA is sure glad to have ya for the time being.” He took a breath in looking around, your eyes following his. “Do you have plans for the afternoon?” He suddenly asked, your eyes flickering back to his face a bit confused.

“Um, no I guess. We’re just kind of going with the flow” you chuckled awkwardly.

“Would you be interested in dinner? I know a really great place, amazing food, very child friendly.” He glanced down at y/c/n with a smile before meeting your shocked eyes again. You blinked a few times, definitely surprised in having just been asked to dinner by Evan, even more so that he was including y/c/n. You didn’t come along many men who were all that great at including children of single mothers, it definitely felt nice and you couldn’t help the butterflies that fluttered in your stomach.

“Yeah. Absolutely. That- that sounds really great. Thank you” you smile appreciatively accepting his offer.

His eyes lit up when you accepted, taking his phone out. “Awesome. I could, uh.. you know, get your number? So I can text you the address?” It was his turn to become nervous in asking for your number, your grin widening and your teeth biting down onto your bottom lip as you took his phone he had extended to you. You put in your number and your name, saving it before handing it back to him. He gave you a nod and slid his phone back into his pocket.

“What time works for you guys?” He questioned. You glanced at your Apple Watch seeing it was currently 3PM.

“How about… 6?” You looked back to him.

“6 works great.” He nodded. “Okay! Cool. Great! Awesome. Um.. I’ll text you!” He stated, your cheeks heating up at his nervous rambling, smiling shyly but giving him a nod.

“Sounds perfect. Thank you” you thanked him as you took ahold of y/c/n’s hand. Evan’s eyes flickered down to them and held out his hand once again.

“Catch ya later buddy!” Y/c/n high fives Evan again and you give him a thankful look, his own eyes looking back as a kind ‘don’t mention it’, before you parted ways.

You found your mom inside the museum, nearly done going through it. “You could’ve waited!!” You groan as you look at the last few wax figures, your mom waving you off.

“I saw the cute boy, thought I would give you space!” She shrugged as if it was nothing, but of course your cheeks had to heat up again. “So? Did you get his number?”

“Mom!” You said in a quiet raised voice, embarrassed. “He’s like, super famous.”

“Okay, and? Did you get his number?” She asked again as if the word famous had zero meaning.

You blinked a few times as you followed her, glancing at y/c/n who was looking at the figures carefully. “Um, no. He got mine.” You nodded, glancing at her as she smiled to herself. “He asked us to supper, y/c/n and I.”

Your mother stopped in her tracks and turned to face you with raised eyebrows. You opened your mouth to continue but she just grinned sheepishly.

“Listen, men who include your kids? They’re the good ones. They’re the ones who understand that your priorities are within your child’s best interest. That’s good, he’s a good one.” She patted the side of your arm before turning and taking y/c/n’s hand and guiding him to an area that was designed for children, while you stood and thought over her words.

It really did shock you that Evan still seemed interested in your despite having a child, in fact, just s as interested in your child. He was so good with them, including them and acknowledging them. It was a good feeling and one you hadn’t felt in a really long time. You didn’t expect it from many men but especially not from one as popular and well known as Evan, who also didn’t seem too interested in kids of his own. Of course with exception that no one truly knew his take or feelings on it, only assumptions.

You quickly put those assumptions aside and decided to feel it out tonight. There was no denying that he was interested in you, but you wanted to be sure before coming to any conclusion.

This could be really good. It definitely felt good.

—

Tags: @evanpetersmood @witchsbitchestime @demxnicprxncess @yes-divine-ruler @shjjpm @evanpsrealwife @iruzias @jangsuzchap @quicksilversg1rl @submissiveforahsmen @angelmenace @lovelizzie-blog1 @justa19 @daylas-life @simp4petermaximoff @totta69

#evan peters #evan peters characters #evan peters imagine #evan peters supremacy #evan peters x reader #evan peters smut #evan peters fanfic #evan peters fic #evan peters series #evan peters requests #request imagines #request #imagine requests #send me requests

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sterekposevents · 10 months

Text

A Proper Family Vacation by justanotherbusyfangirl on ao3

Summary: After coming home for the summer after his first year of college, Stiles invites himself along on the Hale Family's summer vacation.

Prompt Fill: AITA Prompt 1 - Stiles invites himself along on Derek's summer vacation with his family.

Tags: Stiles Stilinski, Derek Hale, Cora Hale, Scott McCall (Teen Wolf), Laura Hale, Talia Hale, Derek Hale's Father, Original Hale Character(s) (Teen Wolf), Sheriff Stilinski (Teen Wolf), Erica Reyes, Vernon Boyd, Jackson Whittemore, Isaac Lahey, Peter Hale, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Hale Pack, Stiles Stilinski is Part of the Hale Pack, Cora Hale & Stiles Stilinski Friendship, Mutual Pining, First Kiss, Getting Together, Cora Hale Ships It, Alpha Talia Hale, Beach Holidays, Summer Vacation

#sterek #sterek fic #sterek events #teen wolf #sterek summer heatwave 2023

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beezusvreeland · 5 months

Text

a very good idea - chapter 1

summary: After your boyfriend cheats on you at a party, you break up with him, who tells you nobody else is willing to be with you like him. You decide to prove him wrong, with a little help from a new friend.

ship: miguel o'hara x f!reader

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Chapter 1

Everybody was looking at you. You were sure of it. As you walked to your locker monday morning, you started feeling dizzy as you felt several eyes full of pity focusing on you. You hated it. If it wasn’t for the english test in the second period, you would’ve already faked a disease in order to go home.

Headphones playing “skinny dipping” by Sabrina Carpenter in your ears, you finally reached your locker. Usually Jessica would be waiting for you there, so you could walk to class together. Even though you loved her with your whole heart, you felt relieved. She knew you too well and although she would absolutely give you time and space if you needed it, you wouldn’t be able to pretend you were fine. Not with her.

Books in hand, you closed your locker and started walking toward history class. The hallways were almost empty at this point, which you were almost grateful for. The feeling went away instantly when you got closer to the classroom. You froze. Harry was leaning his back on the wall next to the door, looking at the screen of his phone, his other hand holding a box of chocolates.

As if sensing your presence, he looked up, his expression going from indifference to something that tried to be, but wasn’t quite sorrow. You wanted to disappear. You knew you would run into your ex some time during the day, but not so soon, he was always late to class. Always.

He took a few steps and got closer to you and said your name. It was like everything was happening in slow motion, you felt a jolt in your heart until the events of saturday started coming back to you.

***

There was a party at Peter B.’s house. His aunt and uncle won a vacation to Miami in a radio contest and would be out of town for a week. You knew it because Peter told you himself when he invited you and Harry. Peter was nice and funny and you wished he and Harry were as close as they used to be. They were childhood friends, but when high school came around, Harry started walking with a different crowd and eventually Peter made new friends of his own.

Still, Peter B. never stopped trying to keep in touch with Harry, even if the effort was one sided. You felt so bad when Harry seemed uninterested in Peter’s stories or completely ignored his friend. When you started noticing that, you tried to compensate for your ex’s behavior, going out of your way to be kind and pay attention to Peter.

Which was not hard at all, the kid had a heart of gold. He was one of the few who could circulate between all groups at school and have friends in all of them, from Mary Jane Watson in the theater department to kids like Miles Morales and Miguel O’Hara, who he was always with.

It was your niece’s 3rd birthday on saturday night, so Harry went to Peter’s by himself and you were supposed to meet him later. Except, when you got there, everything was pure chaos. You took your phone out of your purse to text Harry and Jess, realizing it had been in airplane mode for some reason. Once you deactivated it, several notifications popped up, from texts to social media tags. Feeling uneasy, you searched for your chat with Harry first. Nothing new since you texted him a few hours before. You then clicked on Jessica’s avatar.

J: I’m here babe let me know when you arrive

J: where r u??

J: come already that chick gwen is gonna dj soon

she is always goooood

J: call me when you can

J: pick uppp please

J: u still at home? don’t think it’s a good idea for u to come here

You: i’m here

You: jess whats happened

You: people are looking at me funny

J: meet me in the kitchen

“Harry was making out with a random girl”, Jess told you, holding your hands on hers. “He didn’t even try to hide it, they were in the garden, a lot of people saw them.”

You open your mouth, but the words failed to come out. Just an hour before you were trying on outfits, trying to decide which one your boyfriend would like more on you, and then this. Jess held your hands tighter.

“I’m so sorry, honey”, she said. “You deserve so much better than this…”

The two of you turned your heads, there were sounds of screams and things falling and breaking.

“No no no no no, please stop, guys, please”, you heard Peter B. pleading. Your heart tugged at his desperation.

People were joining the crowd, you and Jess followed. “What’s going on?”, she asked a guy next to them. “I think Osborn harassed the guy’s girlfriend or something”, he answered.

Standing on the tip of your toes, you saw Harry stumbling, clearly drunk or high, probably both, trying not to fall. “Fuck you, man, who do you think you are?”, he screamed at someone.

When you look at the other side, you couldn’t believe it. Of all people to fight with, Harry just had to mess with Miguel O’Hara, arguably the strongest guy from school. You met him in middle school and have taken several classes with him since. Miguel was known for keeping it to himself, but managed to have some close friends, like Gwen Stacy, Hobie Brown and Peter himself. He wasn’t anything like Harry and the other rich kids. Miguel would wear hoodies and basketball shirts, he was disorganized, always borrowing your pens during class, and every now and then would get in trouble.

But fighting? It didn’t seem like his thing, in spite of his size and strength. He was staring at Harry, looking more serious than ever.

“Huh? You think you are all that, motherfucker?”, Harry continued.

“Oh, honey”, Jess looked at you, worried. Her hand wiped away a few tears from your face. You didn’t even realize you were crying. Since you arrived at that house, your life turned into a nightmare sequence. “That’s it, we’re leaving.”

As she put her arm around your shoulders, the same guy who told Jess what the fight was about screamed: “Yo, Osborn, you coward! Making your girl cry!”.

More sounds from the crowd, your head spinning, heart breaking, you were feeling the tears now, they brought sobs too, how was that your life, why couldn’t you just wake up. Your eyes looked for Harry, he was steady, going in Miguel's direction. You looked at the latter. He was looking at you. His brown eyes wide, a crease on his forehead, mouth half parted. Somewhere in your head, you wondered if Harry had been able to hit him before you and Jess arrived. He looked like he was in a lot of pain.

Then a fist hit his face. Harry’s fist.

Peter, Hobie and a couple of other guys held Harry, and the crowd started screaming, Jess pulled you back to the kitchen, in the direction of the back door entrance.

You heard the music stopping and a voice, who sounded like Miles, on the microphone. “The party is over! Time to leave”, he said. People started booing him. “Y’all know my dad is a cop, right? Let’s give him a call, shall we?”

***

Harry got closer to you. Suddenly, his hand was on your cheek.

“Honey…”, he whispered.

How could a gesture you used to love trigger the alarms in your head? Instinctively, you took a step back.

“Harry.”

“No, hun, come on…”

“Harry.”

“Is this about the fight? If it is, you should k…”

“Harry, just listen, ok?”, you had planned so many scenarios in your head, yet, this was just coming to you naturally. “I know you cheated on me with a freshman.”

“Who told you that? It’s a bunch of l…”

“Jessica saw it. So many people saw it. Strangers were sending me pictures and videos of my boyfriend with someone else.”

“Honey…It wasn’t like that, I wasn’t thinking…”

“So, if I’m not right by your side, it’s like I don’t exist, right? You can do whatever you want”, you took a long breath. You were really doing this: “It’s over”.

“What do you mean it’s over? You’re giving up, just like this?”

“You gave me up when you kissed someone”, you let a sad chuckle out. “Not to mention the fight…I just can’t.”

“So you’re really ending this?”

“Yes.”

“You know there is no turning back, right?”, Harry had his hands on his hips, which, knowing him, meant he was pissed off.

You nodded.

“Well, I hope you really thought this through because no one is going to accept dealing with all your bullshit like I do.”

“My bullshit?”, you gasped.

“Anxiety, depression, all that bullshit”, he pointed at you. “The whole good girl act…only I know what you are really like. No one is going to want you.”

You just looked at him. You felt sad, confused and so angry. Because, although you knew it was a provocation, he did mention your worst fears. Being too much, ending up alone, unloved — you had been there.

What Harry didn’t consider is that you might have your insecurities, but you are also competitive and have a lot of pride. If hurting is what he wants, two can play this game. So you just stare at him with your arms crossed.

“Ms, class has already started”, your history teacher, Mr. Bloom, opened the classroom’s door and called you. He must have sensed there was something wrong, you have always been an A+ student and a great kid. The truth is you didn’t even realize how much time had passed.

“Yes, sir”, you walked around Harry and entered the classroom.

***

You arrived right on time for english class. Entering the room after a few classmates, you noticed the teacher, Mrs. White, was standing up, talking quietly with a student. She had a motherly aura, like she is irritated, but worried most of all.

“I’m sorry, but if you don’t apply yourself and get better grades, I can’t help you”, she said.

“I just don’t get it”, the student said. “Numbers…they come so easy to me, words, not so much.”

“We’re going to figure this out. Now go sit.”

Already at your desk, you saw when he turned. Miguel O’Hara. His cheek was a little swollen with a purple mark, a small token of Harry’s actions. You looked at him, but he did not look back at you, staring ahead and sitting in the back.

Then it dawned on you. An idea. A very good one.

>> chapter 2

all chapters

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a very good idea soundtrack

#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara fanfic #harry osborn x reader #gwen stacy #peter b. parker #mary jane watson #miles morales #hobie brown #jessica drew #spider verse #oscar isaac fic #Spotify

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