Tumgik
#anyways i've been thinking about this movie far too much for not having watched it in two months when will it stop haunting me
spdrvyn · 11 months
Text
parched — MIGUEL O'HARA
Tumblr media
(( I FINALLY WATCHED ATSV AAAGHHHH IT WAS SO GOOD !!! not gonna say anything because if i ramble it will 100% go into spoiler territory but it was probably the best movie i've ever seen no exaggeration. anyway, here's a small miguel one shot? drabble? spoiler-free :3 ))
READ PART 2 HERE.
You and Miguel led nearly entirely different lives.
He was constantly out and about. Putting his body, his mind through strenuous lengths for the sake of the people. For the sake of everyone. He sacrifices a piece of himself, bit by bit. Everyday. Just for everybody else's peace.
Your job almost felt a little silly next to his. After all, you were quite sure that being Spider-Man didn't offer a week of paid vacation. Which you were extremely grateful to have, by the way.
In all honesty, you felt the smallest piece of pity for him. You were able to catch up on your hobbies, enjoy shows that were put on your list for so long, and get more than 5 hours of sleep.
You knew that Miguel was barely getting a shred of that. How did you know? Even in two in the morning, while you were resting on the couch and catching up on yet another show, you hadn't heard him come in through the window that you normally keep open for him.
Worry seeps it's way into your brain as you try to focus on the pixels in front of you. Of course, you were scared for him. Everyday that he went out, the unexpected could happen and well... You didn't want to think too deep into it.
At least, your mind was distracted when you were working but now you were relaxing, the thoughts that you tried bury deep down under to the crevices of your mind were all coming back again.
It only concerned you more when throughout the week so far, you'd seen him less and less. On occasion, in the middle of the night, the click of a lock would alert you awake but before you could sit up and investigate, strong arms locked around your waist and a head pressed into your shoulder.
You sighed, reaching for the remote and pausing your show.
The worries, the yearning. It all gave you a swirling, growing feeling in your gut that you hadn't really familiarized yourself with. You weren't sure if you liked it, you weren't sure if you hated it. Though the way that it pierced into you like a newly sharpened spear just confused you even further.
Trying to focus on another feeling growing inside of you. Hunger and satisfying it, you hoped it would get all of this off of your mind as you lazily walk into the kitchen.
A reoccurring theme whenever you wanted a snack was once you actually made your way to the pantry, decisions were a foreign concept and your cravings were like trying to read binary code.
Instant ramen? Cookies? Chips? Ice cream?
Felt even worse this time when you hadn't particularly been exercising your brain recently, a mental note to yourself to be just a little bit on edge when you get a break like this.
You opt on giving up entirely, you slam the cabinet door, and turn around to get back to the couch until—
There's a weight against your back and waist, keeping you against the counter.
As you look down, you see the familiar shades of red and blue. Sighing, you look to a little over your shoulder and take a little peek. To see closed eyes signalled by Miguel's mask. The marks trembling shut, you feel his grip on you get tighter.
In a volume as close to a whisper, you break the silence, "Miguel? You okay?" Like you expected, he takes off his mask. Eyes screwed shut, brows furrowing as you can see the stress lines and deep circles under them.
He sighs but not out of being content, thumb tracing small shapes into your stomach. "Been so lonely, mi cielo."
Your heart clenches as that. That was right, you understood what kind of lover that he could be. Needy, clingy, these qualities festering even more each moment he spends away from you. You noticed how much he was holding back right now.
He normally liked to fix himself up before getting all comfortable and relaxed with you. Showering, brushing his curls, general self-care but the moment he came inside his first instinct was to go to you.
Those thoughts from a while ago that were nearly going to absorb you came back. To think the cold that Miguel had to endure out there from how tightly he wanted to absorb your warmth.
"I missed you so much. Me sentí tan solo, don't wanna let go."
You were going to respond but your mind practically short-circuited when he started pressing soft kisses along your neck and shoulder. You let him indulge himself, just a little while.
Of course, his job terrified you sometimes but seeing him like this. Seeing him let his guard down, talking about how much he missed you, calling you his darling.
Perhaps Spider-Men had their own charm but Miguel's just got you wrapped around his finger like nobody else could.
For a brief moment, he nibbles on the flesh at the back of your neck. Pressing one last kiss, "Will get fixed up, then voy a demostrarte cuánto te extrañé después de todo este tiempo."
Shamefully, you didn't pick up learning Spanish yet from how much Miguel speaks it to you. Yet through context clues and bashfully asking him what the things he said meant sometimes.
You knew exactly what was going to come next.
1K notes · View notes
poweringthroughthis · 1 month
Text
birthday cake | lee sangyeon
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
nsfw, mature content, minors DNI!
ship: lee sangyeon x male reader
desc: (name) isn't a big fan of his birthdays, so his friends decide to cheer him up with a particularly handsome gift this year.
Birthdays are no easy feat for (name). Between corporate slavery, a horrendous economy and a dead love life, there really isn't much to celebrate. Well, maybe except for his friends. With New constantly reprimanding him for his bad decisions, Changmin being the sweetest guy ever, Juyeon raising his standards in men and Kevin teaching him all the naughty things of the world, (name) appreciated those little troublemakers deeply.
So, despite not being the biggest self-lover on birthdays, the male did expect his friends would, at the very least, come over to his place, watch horror movies and build pillow forts as they bitch about anyone and everyone. Being far away from family made (name) cherish the boys' efforts all the more.
However, with no one even replying to his texts, let alone showing up at his apartment, he was more than a bit confused. The male was just about to call New and demand the reason behind their sudden silence when the doorbell rang.
(name) was more than relieved to hear the chime and was quick to open the door, not wanting the person to ring it again. The man's mouth opened, a bright smile already on his lips but before any words could leave him, a cake was shoved into his face and his vision was obstructed by the sugary mess.
The male was still blinking in surprise when the candles were blown off and someone clapped happily, a voice exclaiming, "Happy birthday!"
(name) finally managed to pry the cake away from his eyes, looking at the group of four that stood before him. They were all holding gifts and smiling widely at him.
"You're here," he mumbled, not even bothering to hide the happiness in his voice.
"Of course," Kevin exclaimed, stepping inside the house and taking off his shoes. "Why wouldn't we be?"
"I'm surprised you guys are here, to be honest," the birthday boy mumbled, still wiping the icing from his eyes and nose.
"And why is that?" Changmin asked.
"You weren't answering your phones."
"Oh, those..." Juyeon mumbled, looking at the other three for a brief second before continuing. "We left them in the car. You know how the signal sucks here."
(name) nodded. He didn't believe a word of it. "And who brought the cake?"
"Me," the black-haired male replied. "You said you loved that cheesecake so I decided to surprise you."
"Thank you, Chanhee." (name) smiled.
"No problem, dude. Now let's go and open your gifts!"
"Yes, please. I have a present too and I've been dying to give it to you!" Juyeon added excitedly, pushing past his friends and into the house.
The others followed him, leaving their shoes at the door.
(name) was feeling like the happiest person alive. His friends came to visit, brought him gifts and baked a cake for him. They didn't have to, but they did it anyway.
Chanhee noticed (name) and gave him a small smile. "It was a pretty last minute decision. Sorry, we couldn't do better."
"I think this is already amazing," the male replied, mirroring the other's smile.
"Hey! Stop flirting and get your asses in here," Juyeon called out.
Chanhee rolled his eyes. "We should go and stop him before he does something stupid."
The younger one nodded, following his friend into the living room.
They did all that (name) had envisioned. Watching horror movies(The Amityville franchise this year), eating the cake Chanhee baked and talking smack. Like clockwork. The smile didn't leave (name)'s face the entire night. A few drinks in and the guys were still sober, but way more relaxed.
"Guys, I have to say something." (name) began, the boys turning around to look at him with fond smiles on their faces.
"Thank you. Thank you for doing this every year. And on days when it's not even my birthday. Life is a lot less shittier because I have you all."
Perhaps it was the soju talking, but (name) felt like he needed to make it known how grateful he was for his boys.
"Aww you cutie, c'mere.." Kevin cooed at the male, making kissy faces as he tackled him into a hug, the birthday boy yelling for him to get away.
"Ewww cringe!" Chanhee fake-gagged as he made a disgusted expression.
"Shut up, Chanhee. We know you're the biggest crybaby deep down" Changmin shushed him.
"I think it's time to give you your gift," Juyeon whispered into (name)'s ear, his hot breath sending shivers down (name)'s spine.
"O-okay."
Juyeon smiled, standing up and walking towards the door, leaving (name) confused. Why didn't Juyeon bring the gift inside with him initially? He glanced over at the others who were looking into space, avoiding his gaze. Alert number 1.
"I swear to god y'all if this is something stupid like last ti-"
"Hello."
(name) stopped dead in his tracks as a deep, matured voice interrupted him. He turned around to see: Lee Sangyeon. His very attractive, very charming and very well-spoken neighbor, though (name) had barely exchanged anything past normal greetings with the man.
"So, remember how we were late? We were hastily searching for a good gift shop as the old one recently closed, and ran into this guy who was kind enough to help us navigate to a new one. Guess who it was?" Juyeon explained the last bit in a sing-song voice. "Exactly! Sangyeon hyung."
"And when we left for the same way, we talked a little more and realized he's your neighbor! What a small world." Changmin added.
Hyung? Damn Juyeon and his extroverted nature. And yes, Changmin, (name) is well aware of his hot neighbor. Thank yew. He's been purposely treading carefully around him in order to NOT make a fool of himself, which you've kinda defeated the whole point of?!
"Happy birthday! I hope you don't mind me. I was free and your friends insisted I join." Sangyeon offered a charming grin.
"Thank you. And ,N-no, no, not at all! I don't mind. Please, feel free to join anytime you'd like. I mean-" (name) rambled.
"Oh boy. I knew he was gonna shit himself" New sighed.
"I didn't say it was a bad thing. It's kinda cute. YOU'RE kinda cute." Sangyeon chuckled, and if the sound of it didn't send an electric jolt down (name)'s spine.
"So are we done yet or..?" Kevin yawned, leaning onto the couch. Everyone scurried off back to their places in the living room, continuing the movie they'd paused to drink. For a while, the boys made small talk with Sangyeon, (name) getting to know the man better. As time passed, they all became increasingly sleepy, but (name) and Sangyeon hardly ceased talking to each other, now cuddled up with each other. They clicked rather well.
"So, I think there's one last gift left. For both of you." Chanhee smirked.
"I agree," Sangyeon whispered.
Before (name) could blink, he was pulled into a warm embrace and his lips met Sangyeon's. It was gentle, yet firm, and (name) felt like he could die and be satisfied. The latter tasted of sweet wine, and the older's scent filled his senses as he pulled him closer, a soft sigh escaping him. Sangyeon's lips were soft and warm, and his tongue moved confidently against his own, making (name)'s toes curl.
As Sangyeon pulled back, a smile appeared on his face. (name) had been crushing over him for 2 weeks now. So is it safe to assume his feelings are somewhat reciprocated?
"How was that?" Sangyeon asked, his fingers stroking (name)'s hair.
"Amazing.." the latter breathed.
"I'm glad." The elder smiled, a soft chuckle escaping him. "Well, I hope you had a good birthday."
"Yes, and I have you to thank for it."
"Then perhaps we should do this again?"
"Definitely."
And (name) was sure his heart was about to burst with joy.
"Ahem."
New's voice caught their attention.
"Sorry for the interruption but it's getting late and we should leave," he announced, gesturing at the other 3 who were already gathering their belongings.
"Alright. You guys have fun and behave yourselves." Kevin grinned, bidding them a goodbye.
(name)'s eyes widened. "Yeah, bye Kevin!" he offered a tight-lipped smile, mouthing "I.will.Kill.You", knowing fully well it must have been the Canadian's idea to pull this stunt. "You needed this babe" Kevin whispered in the other's ear. "Thank me later", he left after blowing (name) a kiss, Chanhee and Changmin dragging him.
"Sangyeon, we hope we can see you around soon." Juyeon said.
"Definitely."
The birthday boy's eyes met with Sangyeon's, and (name) didn't miss the way the man's pupils dilated. He wasn't alone in his feelings.
"Happy birthday, again." The eldest of the 4 leaned forward and placed a tender kiss on (name)'s cheek, the gesture sending warmth throughout his body.
The moment the 4 left, (name) plopped onto the couch, still dazed from what had transpired.
"They really thought of everything."
"It seems so."
"Are you happy?"
"Yes, very."
"Good, that's what matters."
"Can I...can I kiss you again?"
"Of course."
Sangyeon cupped his cheeks, bringing their lips together. It was gentle and slow, yet there was a hint of hunger behind it.
"I've been thinking about this for a long time," Sangyeon admitted, his thumb brushing over (name)'s bottom lip.
"So have I."
"That's good to know."
The eldest captured (name)'s lips again, this time with more urgency. He sucked on his bottom lip, drawing a low moan from him. The sound spurred Sangyeon on, and his tongue slipped into the younger's mouth, eliciting another moan.
"I'm not quite finished yet. There are many other things I'd like to do to you."
"Such as?"
"You'll just have to wait and see."
The next thing (name) knew, he was being lifted up, the male's legs instinctively wrapping around his waist. Sangyeon carried him to his room, and the two fell onto the bed in a heap of tangled limbs. Their lips met again, the kiss becoming more passionate and urgent.
"Do you want me to keep going?" Sangyeon whispered against his lips, his fingers brushing the younger's cheek.
"Yes, please," (name) whined.
The older one wasted no time and started undressing the male beneath him. After he had stripped him down, the two kissed some more, their hands roaming each other's bodies.
"I'm going to make you feel good," Sangyeon breathed against his ear, his fingers trailing down his abdomen, causing him to shiver.
(name)'s eyes widened as the elder stood up and stripped down his lower half, his thick member on full display. The birthday boy swallowed nervously, his cock throbbing at the sight.
"You're already so hard." (name) breathed.
The latter was about to apologize, but his words were caught in his throat when he felt a wet heat envelope his length. He couldn't hold back a moan as he threw his head back.
(name) continued to suck on his length, eliciting a chorus of moans from the elder.
After a few minutes, Sangyeon hurriedly pulled (name)'s mouth away, biting his lips to stop himself from cumming.
"Mmh, I think you're ready," Sangyeon mumbled, and (name) let go of his member, wiping his mouth with his hand.
He reached the hem of the birthday boy's underwear, tugging it down. The cool air of the room caused the latter's member to twitch, and Sangyeon smiled. He laid (name) down face first on the bed, spread out. Kneeling between the younger's legs, he leaned down and spread his ass cheeks apart using his hands, licking his lips at the sight of the male's pink, puckered hole.
(name) gasped as he felt the wet heat of the elder's tongue circling his entrance. He gripped the sheets tightly as he felt the sensation of being stretched.
The younger male could only moan in response, the feeling of being penetrated by the elder's tongue was intoxicating. He could feel his orgasm approaching, and he arched his back, pressing his hips against Sangyeon's face.
"It's your birthday, but i'm the one eating the cake," the elder chuckled, and (name) whimpered, feeling the latter's tongue slide in deeper.
"Oh fuck," he moaned, his eyes rolling back in pleasure.
Sangyeon continued to fuck (name) with his tongue, and the younger male couldn't help but cry out in pleasure.
"I-I'm gonna cum," (name) whined.
"Go ahead, baby," the elder encouraged, and the younger male could only gasp and shudder as his orgasm ripped through him.
Sangyeon sat up and grabbed the bottle of lube on the bedside table. He squirted a generous amount onto his palm and spread it over his length.
"Ready, baby?"
"Yes, please," (name) nodded, spreading his legs wider.
Sangyeon lined himself up with the younger's entrance and pushed inside, eliciting a loud moan from the younger.
"F-fuck, you're so tight," the elder moaned, his eyes fluttering shut.
"Feels so good," (name) panted.
The elder started to thrust in and out of the younger male, and the latter could only moan in response.
"You feel so good around me," Sangyeon moaned, and (name) could only whine in response, his eyes rolling back in pleasure.
The older one leaned over, capturing his lips in a heated kiss.
The elder started thrusting faster, the sound of their skin slapping filling the room.
"Fuck, I'm close," the elder moaned, his eyes screwed shut.
"M-me too," (name) gasped.
Sangyeon gripped the younger's hips tighter and increased his pace, causing the latter to moan loudly.
"Fuck, I'm cumming," the elder growled, and he spilled inside the birthday boy.
"Holy shit," (name) breathed, his orgasm rippling through him.
The elder pulled out, the latter's cum coating the tip of his cock.
"Happy birthday to you," Sangyeon breathed, leaning down to kiss the birthday boy.
(name) sighed contently. "Thank you."
"For what?"
"Making my birthday special."
"I'll make every birthday special, if you'll let me," the elder smiled, and the two kissed once more.
When the 4 were far away, New's voice broke the silence.
"Hey Juyeon.."
"Yes?"
"Do you think he'll actually thank us for setting him up with his crush?"
"Probably not.." Juyeon answered.
"Should we start running?"
"Yup."
"We're doomed."
"Well, it was worth it."
"Definitely."
"Happy Birthday, (name)." Kevin yelled into the night, wishing nothing but happiness for their friend, as the 4 walked home.
274 notes · View notes
raineydays411 · 9 months
Text
My Fathers Daughter pt 10
A different perspective
Tumblr media
Dick Grayson has always been used to being the first.
He was the first Robin, the first son, the first to be picked for almost anything.
Hell he was the first child as far as he knew. So imagine his surprise when he finds out his mother not only has a whole secret daughter, but one that she completely abandoned.
He could still hardly believe it.
He couldn't stop thinking about the night they found out about her. The look on Christine's face, it was one he's never seen before. The look of shock and almost disbelief, like she had seen a ghost.
In a way she did.
The ghost of the life she left behind with Tony and Y/n Stark. Now Christine was trying so desperately to revive it. As if she didn't murder it with her own hands. And while Dick himself had reservations with these actions, Christine was his mother before anything, and he was going to help her no matter what.
So here he was, standing outside the bedroom of his mothers long lost daughter, trying to figure out something to say. It shouldn't be too hard, seeing as Jason of all people managed to get you to open up.
And yet, here he is. Unable to muster up the courage to simply knock on the door.
"This is fucking ridiculous", Dick thinks to himself, "Just knock, what's the worst that can happen?"
Lost in his own thoughts, Dick didn't notice the shadow under the door, and was startled by the sudden swing of it opening and you standing there.
"I can hear your thinking over my music." You said a little annoyed," Is there something I can do for you or...?"
Dick blinked trying to gather all of his thoughts, he really didn't know what to say to you. This is the first time you've said more than three syllables to him.
You stared back, face revealing how uncomfortable you were getting with this prolonged eye contact.
"Riiiight, so im just gonna" You say taking steps to shut the door in his face
"Wait!" The raven haired man shouts, "Wait, please."
You stop with a sigh and open the door, inviting him in, " Alright, come on."
Dick walks in, looking around at the room that actually used to be his when he first moved in.
He mentions as much trying to break the awkward silence.
"Hm, and you were okay staying in a room that was copied from a dracula movie?" You say snarkily
"Well to be fair I was 12 and watched my parents die in front of me, I wasn't really looking at the decor." He says half joking.
You made a face and looked away, feeling even more awkward.
"Anyways, I just wanted to you know...see how you were settling in" Dick starts, " Its been a few months and it feels like we hardly even see you."
You pause, thinking of what to say. But before you even have a chance to say anything Dick continues.
"You know, moms really excited that you're here." He starts, " Honestly I don't think I've ever seen her this excited over anything. She's usually very level headed."
You stare at him
"I mean, you know how she is I suppose she is your mother too."
You stare
"I know she probably really missed you, she gets lonely sometimes you know? Everyone here usually has their own thing going on and we don't really get to see her as much."
Nothing from you
" Well, I guess she see's Damian more than any of us but that's because he's basically her baby."
Okay...that hurt
"I mean, I think he was the youngest when he came to use, I think he was like nine or something. And he was not the easiest to get along with. So don't worry that he hasn't warmed up to you yet."
You hum, already irritated with this conversation.
"He's also really protective of our mom, she's done alot to make sure their relationship is as good as it is." he says offhandedly, " Actually she's done it for all of us."
"Oh really?" You ask with no real intrest.
"Yeah! I remember one time when I was little she always made it a point to spend time with me even though she was so busy." He says fondly.
You decide to play along and remince on the memories that you buried long ago.
"You know, when I was younger, Christine used to take me out of school and take me to see ballet shows." You say with a slight smile, " I was in classes back then and loved watching the older girls dance."
Dick smiled, feeling as if he made some progress with you, " Really? I think she actually takes Cassie and Steph to those sometimes, you should ask to tag along I'm sure she'll love it."
You cringe, feeling another needle in your heart. Not even your memerioes were sacred.
"Yeah no thanks." You reply harshly, " I don't like ballet anymore."
Dick pauses, shocked at the sudden shift in atmosphere.
"I--"
And before he can say anything you cut him off, feigning a yawn
"Hey look, not that I don't love our little chats, but I am beat."
"Oh! right, sorry I guess it is getting a bit late.."Dick say hopping up from your bed and walking to the door, " Y/n, you know its really nice talking to you. You should try and open up more."
You smile sarcastically, " you know, something you and mother have in common is that you both like talking at me, not to me."
And with that you shut the door, promptly ending the conversation and sending Dick spiraling.
In fact, the statement bothered him so much that he went seeking a second opinion.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Yeah... I don't know how to help you man."
"Oh come on! Jason, you and her are like...bosom buddies or something."
"Bosom buddies? How old are you?" Jason scoffs, " Look, what you and everyone here doesn't understand is that Y/n has a family waiting for her. She's not going to except mom as her mom because her mom is still alive and well."
"But...technically our mom is her mom." Dick says hesitantly, " And if I were her I'd be thrilled to have my mom back."
"Dick. Your mom didn't abandon you for a different family." Jason says annoyed he's not getting it, "What the hell is wrong with you, you're usually so level headed about this stuff?"
Dick pauses.
To be honest he doesn't know why he's being so hard headed about the whole situation.
He knows that he doesn't like seeing his mother sad, and lately seeing her face when you reject every move she maked to make amends is heartbreaking to him.
That was his mother. The woman who took him in as her own when his biological parents died.
The same woman that stayed by his side no matter how moody, rude, and bratty he first acted when he first arrived. She took his grief on as her own and basically put him back together along with Bruce. He can still remember the night he considered her his mother.
He had just started out as Robin, and had just got back from patrol. It was a rough night.
First, it was the middle of autumn and raining heavily, he and Bruce weren't getting along this particular night and he overall was just having a bad night. So needless to day he was a little rougher with the baddies he was fighting tonight.
Bruce had already reprimanded him throughout the night about his unnecessary force but Dick did not want to hear it. It got so bad that Dick was just going off own his own without Batmans orders, and thats where the trouble began.
Dick had jumped the gun again, throwing himself into a fight with some drug dealers , not realizing that there were one too many for a fourteen year old to handle by himself. They quickly overpowered him, and ganged up on the poor boy.
He was given quite the beating before Batman caught up to him and basically saved him.
In pain and with a bruised ego, he had to listen to yet another lecture from the irritated (actually extremely worried) dark knight, and one from Alfred who was also extremely worried while he cleaned up the child.
He has finally marched to his room in a huff and after he shut the door, was finally able to reveal in the fact that he almost died. He was lost in thought, finally feeling the fear and pain in every move he made as he tried to crawl under the covers when he heard a knock on the door.
In she came, with a tray of goodies she personally made,staying home from a business trip he had known she was going to go on. She crawled into the bed with him, held him to her chest and allowed him to cry.
"You may be a big brave superhero" She said to him, " But here in this home, you're my son. My baby, and you are allowed to cry if you need to. I won't judge you. I won't say a word."
And he did. He cried.
He cried because he was hurting. He cried because he was angry. Angry because he was beat up. Because he was lectured all night. Because he missed his parents.
But most of all, because he felt as if he was forgetting them. He was having such a good time at the Wayne manor, grew to love the Waynes as the parents they intended to be to him. He felt as if he was betraying his parents. The parents that had raised him up to that point.
And here he was, laying cuddled up to Christine the same way he would with his mother. But at this point the two of them are blurring together, to the point where he can't tell where his mother ends and Christine starts.
This woman, took him in and wrapped him in love.
Love that he thought he would never feel again after that tragic night.
A love that, he honestly cannot imagine never having.
It was something that he couldn't begin to repay her. He wouldn't know how. Where to start.
Rekindling his mother with the daughter she lost. Gave up.
That was the least he could do. He'd do it for her.
But, after the conversation he had with Jason, he went home and thought about it. Actually really thought about it.
The year he came into the Wayne's lives, Christine stopped going on her business trips.
Not all at once, but she would push them back.
Usually because Dick had needed her.
She pushed her trips back until eventually, she just stopped going.
She hadn't said much, just saying that she realized that she was needed at home more than they needed her over there. But even at that age, Dick noticed she was sad. She kept her composure around the family, but once Dick had seen her crying in a pantry deleting something off her phone.
He had thought it was weird but after a few months she was okay.
No crying, no sadness.
And... now that he thinks about it. While he was being wrapped up in love there was another child in New York, who's life was being completely unraveled. All because of him.
And maybe...the reason he was trying so hard to rekindle you and Christine wasn't really because of Christine.
But because since that night, the night you were revealed to be her daughter, he did the math. And he just wanted to give you back the mother he unknowingly stole away from you.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Taglist:
@loxbbg
@its-emma-asinme
@zagreusdaughter
@animealways
@dead-sane-stuff
@avitute
@khaleesihavilliard
@d3m0n8ch1ld
@almostjollypizza
@anniebannanie0315
@tracysnook
@edlothia-baby
@noom147
@justanotherravenclaw
@gamocity
@eposadomd
@defiantbalde12
@lilyalone
@sillypastasludeland
@cassini-aming-the-stars
@pietrosbae
@bring-it-on-home-johnb
@romanoffmaximoff0096
824 notes · View notes
pencileraser1 · 1 month
Text
things i noticed/thoughts about most recent rewatches of dps (plus laserdisk deleted scenes):
whenever theres a group scene i've started watching the characters that the story isn't focusing on to see what they do and i've been having a fun time with that. pitts and cameron specifically seem to almost always be doing something interesting in the background.
hopkins!!!! my favorite minor character who somehow got character development despite having like 2 lines!!!! the last guy to stand on the desk but he did it!!!
sometimes i do like to think about what the rest of the students thought about the dead poets society, esp in alternate timeline neil lives dps keeps meeting universe. like yeah theres this guy in their class whose one of the most credited students in the school and we think he maybe started a cult. idk though. but that group runs out into the woods every few days to do god knows what and one of them keeps talking about "dead poets honor" whatever that means and holy shit welton star student neil perry started a cult.
i watched the movie with headphones. and maybe it's because ive seen this movie Far too many times and mabe i'm listening too hard but it was Really obvious sometimes when audio was added in post production. llke in the sweaty toothed madman scene when you can hear laughing and to be fair the camera is behind their heads. but it does Not look like anyone's laughing. my favorite is at the end of the phone call to chris scene where knox is like i'm gonna seize the day!! and runs up the stairs and the poets are cheering him on and neil is sort of yelling "carpe!!!!" and i could be wrong but i'm like 75% certain that the person singing is Also rsl so now neil is just speaking two times at once somehow. anyways it didn't ruin the experience for me or anything it was maybe just a little bit funny to notice but very sorry if this did ruin anyone's viewing.
people talk a lot about how rsl and ethan hawke really made their characters what they are but i have to add dylan kussman to that list. I get the impression that older versions of the movie didn't really give as much depth to cameron and watching dylan kussmans performance is like. he Knew who his character was so fucking well and it shows!! like the deleted scene of them getting clubs assigned. like i could tell So Much about cameron from that scene
for how little she actually appeared, there is an emphasis put on the fact that neil's mom smokes pretty frequently. and i think that's interesting considering neil is one of two poets shown actively smoking. neil's mom doesn't appear for very long in the movie but during that time it definitely seems like the movie is intentionally making parallels between the two, particularly in the last argument with neil's father. neil and his mother are both sitting for almost the whole time, which contrasts with his father who is standing. they are both almost powerless in this scene. they stand up at almost the same time. anyways there's a couple different possibilities for what this could mean? that i've though of? 1. to show that neil's mother is in a similar situation to the one neil is in in regards to neil's father and 2. maybe a stretch here but the theory that neil inherited his mental illness at least partially from his mother. i'm pretty sure 1 was fully intentional on the directors part, not entirely sure about 2 though
unmanned flying desket scene: it's probably cause he and ethan wrote the scene themselves but the way rsl talks in this scene feels more like the way he talks in general than the rest of the script. like briefly neil perry is talking in rsl's voice. one of my absolute favorite scenes though the sarcastic dialogue is so good.
the light of knowledge at the first shot of the film vs. todd standing on his desk at the last shot of the film paralel
133 notes · View notes
pilfappreciator · 5 months
Text
ATTENTION TROLLS FANDOM!!
This is very important. Mostly to me but maybe you guys have been wondering this too idk but anyways:
How does troll reproduction work exactly?
Cuz I'm genuinely curious. I dont think anyone on the series production team has said anything and so far I've seen absolutely no one touch on this subject but as someone who's always had an interest in the habits of creatures (both fictional or otherwise), I kinda sorta maybe NEED to know this otherwise I'll never be able to sleep peacefully again
Full disclaimer that I'm specifically talking about the whole egg situation, I am NOT ASKING HOW THEY GET IT ON IF I WANTED THAT ANSWER I'D GO TO DEVIANT ART OR TWITTER OR WHATEVER LAWLESS PLATFORM GOD STEERS CLEAR OF. This discussion shall remain STRICTLY educational, thank you very much
But anywho. Let's dive in
So trolls come from eggs. This is basic knowledge. First instance of this phenomenon (as far as I know, I've only seen the movies) is from World Tour.
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Egg pops out of Guy Diamond's hair, egg hatches and BOOM, (literal) baby. Now I understand that this whole sequence was probably just a gag and a way for DreamWorks to implement another (merchandisable) addition to the cast HOWEVER this sequence also raises a few questions
First off, as far as I know Guy Diamond has no partner (again: I haven't watched any of the spinoff shows). Either that or maybe the other troll was a sorta one-night-stand/no-longer-in-his-life kinda situation? Which is great either way cuz its shown he obviously cares for his son and we at Tumblr appreciate a loving single father no matter the circumstances, but if my former theory is correct than that would imply that trolls are capable of reproducing asexually. Like onions.
Now if that hypothesis is, as they call it, "cap" then that would mean that some sorta hanky panky has to go down before an egg comes into question. And if that's the case, does this mean that male trolls are traditionally the ones who carry the eggs?
But that can't be right, can it? Afterall, World Tour gave us yet ANOTHER egg scene later on in the movie
Tumblr media Tumblr media
In Cooper's flashback, we clearly see Queen Essence being the one carrying the eggs meanwhile King Quincy is eggless. Now, as far as i see it, this could be explained either one of four ways:
1) Quincy was the one who actually produced the eggs and Essence is merely holding them for her husband (since her hair seems more fitting to be a makeshift nest compared to Quincy's)
2) Female trolls are the ones who produce the eggs. Guy Diamond is just a trans icon
3) Troll reproduction differs from genre to genre
4) There is a... *sighs* a/b/o type of dynamic among troll kind where certain trolls are capable of giving birth/siring children depending on a secondary gender
In regards to theory #3, this could also explain why Guy Diamond seems to reproduce and hatch an egg in such a short amount of time (like 5 seconds I'm pretty sure) as opposed to Queen Essence/King Quincy who's eggs presumably went a while longer before actually hatching.
Actually, speaking off eggs, are trolls the only species in their world that reproduce that way?
Because now that Band Together has officially been released, we now know for certain that it's possible for different species to crossbreed. Biggest example? Resident DILF Bruce and his giant muppet wife
Tumblr media
(Credit to @captainunderkrupp )
When I saw these two... I swear...
And these two already have a shit ton of kids okay so like... either Brandi was the one giving birth or trollsona Daveed Digs was over here pumpin out eggs, which I mean-
Tumblr media
DO YOU SEE HOW BIG THESE THINGS ARE COMPARED TO BRANCH AND POPPY?? Believe me I am PRAYING that Bruce gave himself some serious maternity/paternity leave because my guy is honestly a trooper
But yeah any thoughts? :))
242 notes · View notes
mikachacha · 5 months
Text
𝙷𝚎𝚛 𝙱𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝙵𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚜 (𝙱𝚊𝚍𝚊 𝙻𝚎𝚎 𝚡 𝚂𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚛! 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚡 𝙼𝚘𝚗𝚒𝚔𝚊 𝚂𝚑𝚒𝚗)
Tumblr media
Synopsis: your new song is a huge hit and your two girlfriends wanted to celebrate and spoil you for a job well done
Warnings: nothing. just three idiots in love
(A/N: this is by far the most challenging piece i've ever written but also very fun. I hope im giving this one justice 🥹🥹)
Tumblr media
🏵️🏵️🏵️🏵️🏵️🏵️🏵️🏵️🏵️🏵️🏵️🏵️🏵️🏵️🏵️🏵️🏵️🏵️🏵️🏵️🏵️🏵️🏵️🏵️
"So what's the real score between you and Bada Lee?"
"So are you and Monika Shin a thing?"
If you'd have $100 every time someone asked you that, you definitely don't need to work again. People and their fascination about your relationship with those two aforementioned dancers is just crazy. Though you really couldn't blame them. Those two are just gorgeous and everyone wants them. Men and women alike and you're just lucky that you're in a relationship with both of them. Yup, the one and only Y/N is in a relationship with Bada Lee and Monika Shin. And no, you're not cheating because it was their idea to share with each other since you hated choosing and they didn't want to put you in such predicament.
"Hey angel, what are you doing?" Monika asked and placed a kiss on your cheek as you sat on the couch of your apartment, just browsing on your Instagram feed.
"Oh you know, watching pro Y/N x Monika and Y/N x Bada fans fight each other. Then there's some thirsty straight guys saying we're all just besties. Even the media is just playing us off as best friends when it's clear as the sky that the three of us are gay." you chuckled and Monika just shakes her head in amusement. It's been a year since the three of you got together and the people are still fighting whether the three of you are straight or gay for each other.
"They're still at it? Damn.. Anyways, Bada just called. Said she'd meet us at this restaurant downtown so we can celebrate the success of your new single. Our baby is becoming this huge superstar so we gotta celebrate." Monika says and you smiled, hugging her close before she pulled you in for a soft, sweet kiss.
"You know I wouldn't be able to do this without yours and Bada's help.. So thank you." you told her and she just cupped your cheeks, planting soft kisses all over your face before pulling you to your feet and helping you get dressed.
You soon arrived at the restaurant where Bada waited for you. She had a bouquet of your favorite flowers and when she saw you and Monika walk in, she got up and pulled you in for a hug and kissed the top of your head. The paparazzi and cameras didn't faze any of you. You've been open about your relationships though people just can't wrap their heads around the fact that you're dating two amazing women at the same time.
"Flowers for our beautiful superstar?" Bada offers you the bouquet and you take it, a small blush on your cheeks. You've been with them for a year though you still blush and feel butterflies whenever they do something for you or put an effort to make you smile.
"You two.. You're really going all out with this, aren't you?" you playfully glared at them and the two women just laughed, kissing your cheeks and leading you to your seat.
"What? We love spoiling our pretty baby because she's very talented and because we love her. Don't we, Monika?" Bada grins and the older of the two nodded, winking at you.
"Absolutely. And if you think this little lunch is all we're doing to celebrate, well you're very much mistaken baby. After this, we'll go see a movie then go get some iced americano and pastries. Spoil our baby some more then we go home, give you lots of kisses and cuddles because you deserve all of it." Monika added and you could feel tears welling up. If you were gonna be honest, you had doubts about this relationship if it's gonna work or not. I mean, you're much younger than them and it's not too common to have a relationship with the same sex in your country. To top that, there's three of you involved. But a year has gone by but your relationship with each other remained stronger, the bond you had with your two lovers is unbreakable and you couldn't imagine your life without Bada or Monika anymore.
"Ya! You're gonna make me cry.. You guys are way too sweet.." you told them and the two just laughed, making comments about how cute you are or how precious you are which made your cheeks heat up.
The three of you spent the whole afternoon just celebrating the success of your song. Even taking lots of pictures together, none are shy to flaunt your relationship with each other on social media. Comments began flooding your social media accounts but you just placed your phone on do not disturb mode so you can enjoy the moment with Bada and Monika.
"Let's take a picture there!" you told Monika and Bada before literally dragging the two inside the photo booth. It was cramped considering they're taller than you but you made it work. You took lots of pictures with your girlfriends, some pictures were of you kissing Bada or kissing Monika or them kissing each other. It was pure chaos spending time with them but you loved every second of it. You wouldn't change a thing between your relationship with the two as it's already perfect.
229 notes · View notes
stylesharrys · 1 year
Text
mr romantic [fratrry]
summary: harry's never been a romantic, but if there's one thing he's good at, it's sex.
word count: 2,260
warnings: kissing, teasing, swearing, smut; fingering, daddy kink, dirty talk, oral (female receiving), unprotected sex.
a/n: umm it's been a hot fucking minute since I last wrote anything remotely smutty, and I've really been in my smutty daze feels so I'm hoping to pump out as much stuff for you guys as possible bc pregnancy hormones are crazy and idk when I'll next get a smutty surge hahaha. anyway, enjoy!
Tumblr media Tumblr media
//
Nothing is ever innocent with Harry, you should’ve learnt your lesson by now. He never just comes over to help you study, or watch a movie. So why did you think tonight would be any different?
Maybe you just hoped your boyfriend would be a little more spontaneous in the romantic sense. Because he is spontaneous, absolutely. But you’re not sure Harry has a single romantic bone in his body.
And if he does, he doesn’t seem to have any need nor want to show it.
You don’t want to complain about him, not in the slightest — because he does make you happy, and you do love him with every ounce of your being.
It’s just sometimes, you’d appreciate the little things. Like a kiss to your knuckles, or a random bunch of flowers. You get the pet names; baby, darling, love — but that’s as far as endearment goes with Harry.
Maybe it’s just a phase, you find yourself wondering most of the time. Perhaps he’s just in that horny, frat boy era and the second university is over, that’s when the romance will start.
If you’re honest, you’re kind of hoping so. You don’t need romance, your relationship is passionate enough without it, but God, a little would be nice.
So really, in hindsight, you shouldn't have expected some cute date when Harry told you he was picking you up this evening for pizza and a late night drive.
You got your pizza (Harry’s treat), before piling back up in his car for a late night drive.
You can’t lie, late drives with Harry are one of your favourite things to do together. Windows down, blaring music. And maybe you were a little harsh earlier.
There’s been a couple instances where a drive has turned into parking at the peak of a hill, the pair of you laid across the bonnet trying to count all the stars you could see above you.
That’s not what tonight was supposed to be, because the drive lasted fifteen minutes before Harry stuck his hand down your knickers and his tongue in your mouth.
But you’ll never complain about that.
He’s gentle in the most feverish way possible. He needs you, wants you, craves you—but his touch is soft and tender, each caress bringing another surge of warmth to the surface of your skin.
The windows are foggy, though you haven’t opened your eyes in a while. Harry’s got his mouth enveloped over your pearled nipple, suckling and nibbling oh so gently.
One hand is stuffed in your knickers, the other around your throat. Your seat’s been reclined all the way back, your body completely horizontal as he hovers over you.
You never want to open your eyes, not even to take a peek. You’re too in awe of the way he makes you feel - even with the gentlest of touches.
His fingers toy with your clit, rubbing in such tight circles it feels more like a side-to-side movement. But it’s what you love and Harry knows it.
He’s always known how to get you there; when to push, when to pull. Your body relaxes completely when he has his way – no part of you has ever doubted his touch, never will.
“I wanna touch you,” you pant.
Your hips are rolling against his hand, back arching ever so slightly when he bites a little harder than before. Harry pecks your perked nipple, doting kisses across your chest and neck until his lips are level with your ear.
“I don’t remember telling you to speak.”
Oh. We’re playing like that tonight.
You purse your lips shut tight, knowing exactly what Harry wants from this. A smirk graces his stupidly handsome face as he kisses the corner of your mouth.
“That’s a good girl. Keep your mouth closed and let Daddy get to work.”
You can feel your eyes roll to the back of your head, feel the hairs on your body stand on end, feel the gush of arousal seep from your cunt.
Harry lets his hand dip further into your knickers, the tip of his middle finger swiping at the throbbing entrance of your pussy. You’re soaking wet, a little plump with anticipation.
He teases your hole for a few moments, tauntingly dipping a finger to the first knuckle before withdrawing again. It’s an agonising game he likes to play – to see how long until you’re begging for something more, for anything.
Last time, it ended in you sobbing for his cock, you wouldn’t stop until it was shoved down your throat. Such a naughty girl. Harry’s cock leaps at the memory, but that’s not how tonight is going to go.
Maybe if you’re good, you can have his cock when you get home. Maybe he’ll let you suck him to sleep, only if you’re lucky. For now, though, he’s too fucking horny for the foreplay.
Harry crawls down your body, reaching under the seat to push it back as far as it goes, and he settles in the foot space below.
Pulling your underwear down your legs, Harry props your thighs so they rest over his shoulders, leaving him with a faceful of your glistening cunt. His mouth salivates, eyes dark and hooded.
The smell of your arousal alone is enough to send Harry into a state of euphoric bliss, so it’s no shock to you when he very quickly buries his face between your thighs and laps up your cunt.
His tongue is warm and skilled, flat as he runs a stripe from your leaking hole to your throbbing clit, then wraps his lips around your nub, suckling and flicking as your back arches.
You know how this goes – keep your eyes closed and hands to yourself. And most importantly, keep that pretty little mouth shut.
“Such a sweet fucking cunt, baby.”
You jut your hips into his face, grinding against his tongue and he drags it back to your hole. It’s pure ecstasy, complete and utter bliss.
Harry reaches for your hands, guides them to your chest. You waste no time in grabbing your tits, pinching nipples between fingers the way Harry would.
He lets his hands snake back down to your hips, holding you in place with one as the other sneaks between your thighs. Harry spits your arousal back over your hole, his finger spreading it across your pussy and taunting your entrance.
A sweet gasp slips past your lips at the sensation–the feel of him circling your cunt and easing his thick digit in. One knuckle… two… he curls his finger as he eases into the third and your back arches.
“You’re being such a good girl for me, darling.”
The praises feel like clouds surrounding you, making you feel light and airy. You love nothing more than hearing Harry tell you how good you’ve been. And Harry loves nothing more than telling you, watching you buck and squeak in response.
He’s quick to put his lips back on your clit, slurping and flicking with his skilled tongue. There’s something so filthy about doing this in the car, parked in a ditch at the side of the road.
Anyone could catch you, anyone could drive past and see. Neither of you give a shit. He’s too busy burying his face in your cunt and you’re too busy trying to keep your breathing regulated.
His tongue works meticulously, swiping and folding at every tender point he knows. Your legs are starting to shake, knees folding in and smacking against the back of his head but he doesn’t care.
Harry will welcome any pain if it comes with your pleasure. That’s how he’s always been. If you’re not crushing his skull, he’s not doing a good enough job.
He doesn’t need verbal reassurance. He has no doubts he makes you feel like an angel. Watching you react, the way your body folds and coils, the limp noises that escape your pretty lips, it feeds Harry.
It’s not long before your entire body begins to twitch; involuntarily jerking at every suck, every curve of his finger. Harry works your G-spot until you’re seeing stars behind closed eyes, until your jaw is slack and strangled, wanton moans break through the silence.
It’s music to his fucking ears, everything he’s ever wanted to hear and more. If he could, he’d catch your cries on tape, have them replayed in his headphones all hours of the day.
He lets you get closer and closer–teetering you to the edge until you’re fucking desperate. Harry’s rock hard in his pants, can actually feel the precum beginning to seep out of his cock.
Now, he’s never been a selfish lover (in or out of bed), but right now, he doesn’t want to let you finish – he wants to see you beg and cry and shove his thick length in your tiny little cunt.
He wants to stretch you out with no warning, fuck you into that damn seat until you’re desperately holding onto something, anything. In Harry’s mind, there’s nothing more pressing, more desirable than that.
So he pulls away the second you’re about to burst. You’re far too dazed and confused to fully realise what he’s just done; that he’s actually stopped you from reaching your high.
And it’s only when your eyes finally start to flutter open that you notice what he’s doing. How his joggers are pulled down mid-thigh and his bright red cock is heavy in his hand.
You blink a couple of times, clearing your distorted vision. His length is angry, desperate for touch as his top stays an agonising shade of purple.
You start to reach closer, to touch him, kiss him, make him feel as good as he’s made you – but Harry swats your hand away and pushes on your chest so you’re laid back in the seat.
You watch him with eager eyes, the way he smears his full cock across your cunt, soaking in the juices you’ve left and the mess he’s made of you. His tip pushes at your clit, a shock of bliss coursing through your body.
“You’re gonna take this cock like the good girl you are, okay?”
You nod pathetically, rolling your hips to meet his. Harry slaps his length against your pussy, allowing you to feel the sheer weight of it before he lines himself up with your weeping hole.
With a slap to your thigh, he pushes forward, slowly – until you’re accustomed to the size. His balls gently knock at your ass, the short hairs on his pubic bone tickling at your clit and you gnaw down on your bottom lip.
He finds a slow rhythm, eyes locked on where your bodies intertwine. Each time he pulls out, he’s shinier than before, soaking in your arousal and it only makes him harder.
Both hands find homage to your hips, fingers marking the skin as he holds a firm grip.
It’s merely seconds before Harry picks up his pace and starts to fuck into you, each thrust more forceful than the last. Your cunt begins to tighten around him; pulsing and twitching in excitement.
Harry struggles to keep quiet, grunting between heavy pants as he reaches for your clit. He begins to rub, gently flicking from side to side in effort to get you to where you were before.
And it works, like fucking magic.
You’re gripping your tits and biting down on your tongue to keep you from screaming, your eyes rolled so far back you’re not sure you’ll see straight for days. And when he pinches your clit, giving it a little twist, it’s like your entire world implodes.
Harry fucks you through it; rougher, harder. Even with him stuffing your cunt, arousal still manages to seep through the sides of his cock, slipping down your ass and dripping onto his seat.
He doesn’t give a shit, not in the slightest. Harry’s mesmerised by the way your body falls limp and you struggle to catch your breath. He feels his own release catching up with him at the sight of your fucked out face and pretty, pearled nipples.
“Daddy’s good girl. My good fucking girl.”
Your body quakes, a second, all-consuming orgasm creeping up on you. There’s no stopping it, not as he hits all the right places, and just as you cum all over him, he shoots his load into you.
Harry can’t stop the uncontrollable moans that tear through his throat, the need and exhaustion peeling off him. He keeps his movements slow and steady, using your hole to milk himself dry, watching your chest rapidly rise and fall.
“Holy shit,” he croaks, running a hand through his hair as he takes a deep breath.
You admire him for a second, needing a moment to come to your senses. You were right, the windows are fogged, nearly dripping with condensation, actually. You giggle to yourself, offering Harry a shy smile and he grins.
“Shall we go back to your dorm and finish the last two episodes of Lucifer?”
Harry asks the question like he isn’t still rock hard and buried in your cunt. You can’t help the laugh that escapes your lips but you nod, nonetheless, amused and somewhat impressed by the duality of this man.
You suppose that while Harry isn’t necessarily a romantic, he knows what you like and still caters to your every need. And if fucking you in the middle of nowhere and then offering cuddles and a tv show after is as close to romantic as you’re gonna get, you’ll take it.
1K notes · View notes
sissylittlefeather · 4 days
Text
We Can Make the Morning
(or Angel Take 7)
A one-shot
A/N: I've had this idea for a while and just decided to go ahead and write it the other day while I was watching Elvis On Tour. I hope y'all enjoy this 1972 Elvis x fem!reader one-shot!
Warnings: 18+ minors DNI, kissing, cussing, handjob, ejaculation, oral sex (f receiving), possible concussion
Word count: ~3.7k
Tumblr media
Greensboro, North Carolina. You've lived here your whole life. And you've been an Elvis fan since you heard his first record at the tender age of fifteen. Now you're in your early thirties and you finally find yourself at one of his shows. You've never managed to go to one before and something about this feels like destiny. Still, the best you could afford is a seat at the front of the balcony, but you're next to where he'll walk into and out of the arena. If you push, you might be able to get a pretty good glimpse of him, and that's all you've ever really wanted. You dream of more, but you know better than to think he's going to notice you or anything.
April 14th, 1972 is show day, finally. You get dressed and try to ignore your nerves as you fix your hair and swipe on your makeup. You opt for your favorite bell bottoms and a cropped peasant blouse. It's not the dressiest outfit you own, but it flatters you and shows off all your best assets. Not that it matters much. He'll never see you.
At the arena, you make your way to your seat and try to survey whether you'll be able to get to a place where you can really see him up close. Eventually the lights go down and the music starts up. You head over to the railing, but there's a hundred girls between you and the tunnel. There's no way you can fight through them this time. You'll have to try again at the end of the concert. You head back to your seat with a new determination.
The show is incredible.
He's wearing a dark blue jumpsuit with a belt that has an owl on it, as he points out during one of the songs. Even as far away as you are, you can tell he looks amazing. His voice is on point and his performance is unmatched. You sit in silence with your lips parted slightly and your eyes wide. It's like he's made of stardust. And you're not going to let him pass by without seeing him up close.
He ends the show with Can't Help Falling In Love and then bows with his arms held out holding the silver cape. You know he's going to move fast through the tunnel, so you run to the railing and push your way through all the women gathered there. It's hot and hard to breathe and your heart is pounding. You're pressed up against the railing where it hits you just below the waist. Your position on your platform boots is precarious but you lean over anyway, just in case he reaches up. You feel yourself getting lightheaded from the excitement, but you're not going to miss this for anything, no matter how you feel. Just then, you see him headed for the tunnel. Your ears start ringing and the edges of your vision go dark. You can't believe it's really him. As the blackness envelops you, someone behind you pushes on your back and you feel yourself falling...
******
On stage, Elvis knows he's putting on a hell of a show. The energy from the crowd is electric and the camera crew seems excited by the footage they're collecting. In truth, he's ready to be done with this damn movie. Ready to be done with this damn tour. He enjoys the stage portion but everything in between is grueling. And honestly, the loneliness has been setting in pretty hard for him, especially in the middle of the night. Sometimes he picks up a girl at a show, but most of his encounters are empty. And even if he does find someone he likes, the conversation is lacking or she's so starstruck she can't do much more than giggle or try way too hard to impress him in bed. He longs for a real connection.
On stage, though, he lives his dream every night. This show in North Carolina is particularly satisfying for some reason and he comes off the stage with a smile on his face. He makes his way quickly to the car, heading for the tunnel lined with screaming fans. Looking up briefly, something strange captures his eye.
He reacts quickly without thinking, throwing his arms out to catch you just before you hit the ground. Somehow, you fall perfectly into his grasp and he holds you like a baby. He's stopped running, so his entourage encircles him to urge him forward.
"You can't stop here, man!"
"Put her down; let's go!" He looks down at you in his arms and realizes you're out cold.
"I can't! She's out, guys!"
"You're gonna have to drop her!" He shakes his head vigorously.
"No. I'm bringin' her with me." The guys make eye contact across him. They know when he's like this there's no arguing with him. He starts moving forward again with you in his arms.
At the car, the guys try again to get him to drop you with a security guard, but he refuses.
"It's my fault she's like this! I'm not leavin' her!" He gets into the backseat of his car, holding you on his lap. The other guys roll their eyes and squeeze in with him. It was a tight fit even before you were there, so now it's almost impossible for them to smash into the car. He wraps his arms around you tighter and holds you to him while the guys pile in. Sweat from the show slides down his face and he looks at you in his arms. The gentle lines of your features are intriguing and he wonders what your name is. For a moment, he forgets where he is and does something a little strange. He pulls your face to his and presses his lips to your forehead. That's when your eyelids flutter and you stir.
******
You sit up quickly and look around, trying to figure out where you are. You're in a car of some kind with a bunch of men you don't recognize. You try desperately to remember how you got here.
"Hey, honey. Are you alright?" When you hear his voice, you whip your head around.
"Oh." You answer breathlessly. "It's you."
He chuckles softly and his smile almost causes you to pass out again.
"It's me. I'm sorry, honey, I just didn't want to leave you there in that state."
"State?"
"Do you remember falling over the wall?" You cover your face in embarrassment.
"Oh my god..." He laughs softly again.
"Honey, it's okay. It happens."
"This has happened before?!"
"Well, not exactly..." One of the guys cuts in and you realize you're sitting on Elvis's lap with his arms around you. You fight to keep your composure.
"We're here, boss." The door opens and the guys climb out of the car until it's just you and Elvis.
"I'd like you to stay, so I can keep an eye on you. Is that okay?"
"I'm not sure it's necessary..."
"I say it is. Come on." You're not going to argue with him. He pats your bottom and you climb out of the car, followed closely by him.
On the sidewalk, you stumble a little, still woozy from passing out. He wraps his arm around your waist and steadies you.
"Do I need to carry you, honey?" The concern on his face is so endearing you almost melt into the ground.
"N-no, I think I'm okay."
"Alright. I'm gonna keep a hold of ya, though." You nod and he smiles genially. Then, the two of you make your way into the hotel surrounded by his bodyguards. At the elevator, he tries to dismiss them, and they refuse to leave him alone, but when he speaks sternly and insists that he'd like to be left alone, they listen and watch as he gets on the elevator with just you. Once the doors slide shut, he turns to you and puts both hands on your hips.
"What's your name, honey?"
"Oh! I'm y/n. I'm really sorry about this."
"Don't be." He waves his hand to dismiss your apology. "I just want to make sure you're okay. Do you remember if you hit your head on the way down?"
"I don't. I think I might've been out before I fell."
"You still might've hit your head." The elevator dings and the doors open. He keeps one arm around your waist and ushers you down the hallway to his room. You look at him in his jumpsuit and wonder where he might possibly have a key stashed. He bends down and pulls it out of his boot, standing and unlocking the door. You stumble a little walking across the threshold and he steadies you again, watching you with even more concern. Once you're in the room with the door shut behind you, he seats you next to him on the couch. You yawn and blink slowly. Somehow, you're exhausted.
"Are you sleepy?"
"Mhmm." You answer, yawning again.
"Okay. We need to keep you awake. If you hit your head, you shouldn't go to sleep."
"I don't feel like I hit my head." He reaches out and puts his hand on your cheek.
"I'm not willing to take any chances, honey." You nod slowly and notice that his eyes flick down to your lips. He clears his throat and pulls his hand back. You're a little surprised that he almost seems shy.
"You're sure I can't just lay down?"
"No, baby, you gotta stay awake." He looks down at himself and then to the bathroom. "I need to shower, though. But I hate to leave you alone."
"I really think I'm okay." He looks at skeptically as you yawn yet again.
"No. You're comin' with me. You can wear your underwear in the shower. I won't touch you. C'mon." He makes you stand up off of the couch and takes your hand, walking you to the bathroom. You want to tell him that you'd happily get in the shower with him naked, but you don't. He puts you in first, facing the back of the shower and then you hear him undress and get in behind you. You're dying to peek and see what he looks like without his jumpsuit, but he's being so kind that you can't violate his privacy like that. Still, the knowledge that Elvis Presley is naked behind you in the shower makes you a little crazy. Just when you think it can't get much more endearing, he starts humming. Your heart melts when his humming turns to quiet singing and you're dying to turn around and wrap him in your arms. He's so much more precious in person than you ever dreamed he could be.
You're lost in a reverie when the shower turns off and you feel him turn to face you. You can tell he's looking at you and you want to turn around so badly. Everything inside you is screaming at you to just turn around. But it's like you're frozen where you stand. When he kisses your shoulder, though, your head rolls to the side and you're desperate for him to touch you. He doesn't though. Instead, he whispers.
"You stay here, baby. I'll get you a towel." He gets out of the shower and hands you a towel. "There's a robe hanging on the door. I'm right outside."
You dry off and slip out of your wet undergarments, wrapping the fluffy robe around yourself. When you open the door, he's sitting on the couch with a towel around his waist. He looks up at you in the robe and swallows deeply. You sit on the edge of the bed and smile awkwardly. He returns your smile.
"I'm going to get dressed. Stay here and don't go to sleep."
"Yes, sir." He chuckles softly and moves back to the bathroom. You settle against the pillows and hastily break your promise to stay awake. The warmth of rest washes over you and your eyes close.
******
Elvis puts you in the shower in your underwear facing away from him. It's impossible for him not to notice your figure, though. The curve of your ass in your white panties about drives him crazy. He strips naked and turns the shower on. Through the whole shower, he tells himself not to get aroused just at your proximity. Once he's finished, he pulls the handle to make the water stop and then turns to face you. Your hair and your body are wet from the shower and he wants to touch you so badly that it almost hurts. Without thinking, he leans down and presses his lips to your shoulder. It's an indulgence he should have resisted, but something about you is intoxicating. He breathes deeply and pulls himself away to get you a towel. Once he does, he walks out into the room and sits on the couch. What is it about you that has him so out of sorts?
When you come out in the robe, it takes all of his self control to keep from ripping it off of you. But he wants more from this. He wants to know you, not just fuck you and move on.
"I'm going to get dressed. Stay here and don't go to sleep." You give him a salute and he chuckles, making his way back to the bathroom. After about thirty seconds, though, he has a bad feeling. He doesn't even get his pants on and walks back into the room still in his towel.
He was right. You're asleep.
He moves to the bed quickly and sits next to you, shaking you gently.
"Hey, baby, wake up." You don't stir and he starts to panic. He thinks back to how he woke you up in the car and leans in and kisses your forehead. Still, you stay asleep. He kisses your cheek and then finally, he presses his lips to yours. Finally, your eyes flutter open and he smiles. "You're back."
******
"I am. You kissed me."
"I'm sorry; I was getting desperate." He looks into your eyes and your smiles fade.
"Do it again." You whisper and he nods, pulling your face back into his. He crashes his lips into yours and the kiss moves to a fever pitch as he parts your lips with his and slips his tongue into your mouth. He puts both hands on your cheeks and you sit up on your knees, ready to crawl into his lap. Thats when he notices his erection under the towel. It's impossible to hide and he pulls away, looking down, and trying to push his cock down to make it less obvious.
"Oh, god, I'm sorry, honey."
"Don't be. It's okay." He shakes his head.
"No. It's not. I brought you up here just to keep an eye on you and now this." He's ashamed at his reaction to you. He feels your finger under his chin and you pull his face to looking into yours.
"Elvis, I've loved you for as long as I can remember. Meeting you? Knowing you? It just confirms everything I've ever believed to be true about you." He melts at your words and pulls you in close to him, kissing you deeply. But he pulls away again.
"I don't want to hurt you. I don't know if you should do... this..."
"Then maybe I can do this..." You reach your hand forward and run it down his chest to the top of the towel. Then, he inhales sharply as you move further down to where his cock is erect underneath it. You slide your hand under the towel carefully and take him in your palm. He moans softly as you begin to stroke him, moving his foreskin back and forth gently.
"God, baby, that feels so good. You don't have to-"
"Shhh. You've been taking care of me all night. Let me take care of you." His hips buck into your hand as you continue to pump him. He grunts and leans his head back as you move your hand a little faster.
"Mmm, baby..." He moans as you push his foreskin back and collect a bead of precum that's gathered there, running your thumb across his sensitive head. He leans back and lets you move the towel out of the way to free his cock and stroke it in the open. You pump him a little faster and he groans again. "It's so good, baby."
He feels your lips on his cheek as you move your hand on him and turns to kiss you. He looks into your eyes and puts his hand on your cheek, leaning in to capture your lips again. Then, he presses his forehead to yours and whispers.
"Thank you..." You smile and continue moving your hand up and down on him gently. He throws his head back and his hips buck again. "Fuck, baby, I'm gonna-"
A guttural groan rises from his throat as he cums, hard, and shoots his climax all over your hand. You pump him through his release and he shudders into your palm. He uses the towel to wipe your hand clean and then lays back on the bed.
You giggle a little and lay back with him. He turns and looks at you.
"I haven't been that satisfied with a handjob in years."
"I haven't given one in years." You smile. He rolls over and smothers you in kisses, forgetting for a second that you might be hurt. He pulls back and looks into your eyes, reaching down to undo the tie on your robe. His hand runs underneath it onto your stomach and down to your hip.
"Can I make you feel good too, honey?" You nod frantically and he laughs out loud. Then he stops and looks at you seriously. "Alright, just don't move around too much. I'll never forgive myself if this hurts you."
"I really think I'm fine." He sinks to the floor between your knees and pulls you to the edge of the bed. He spreads your legs, kissing the inside of each of your thighs gently. You moan softly as he leans forward and drags his tongue up your slit to the bundle of nerves at the top.
"Oh, god, Elvis!" You whimper as he continues to move his mouth on you. He swirls his tongue over and around your clit in tantalizing circles. The sensation drives you wild and your pussy clenches around nothing as he licks you. He dips down and pushes his tongue into your slit several times before slipping one of his long fingers inside you. You whine and arch your back as he pumps his finger in and out and goes back to dragging his tongue over your clit. The pressure of your orgasm builds as he works and you know you won't last too much longer. He pulls back a little and flicks your sensitive bud with the tip of his tongue, teasing your orgasm out of you.
"Cum for me, baby." He whispers, pressing his whole mouth to you and moving his tongue on you hard.
"Oh, yes! Yes!" You cry out as your orgasm crashes into you, pumping through your veins like electric shockwaves. He continues working his mouth on you as you ride out your high, your hand in his hair.
When you finally come back down and stop shuddering, he pulls back, wiping his face with his hand and laying next to you on the bed.
"Wow." He chuckles and looks over at you. "No, seriously, I've never had a man...get me there."
"Really?"
"I mean, they've tried, but never successfully. It's like I was waiting for you."
"Honey, I feel like I've been waiting for you too." He rolls over and put his hand on your cheek.
"What do you mean?"
"I can't explain it. Something about being here with you, feels like I was meant to catch you."
"It feels like I was meant to fall." He presses his lips to yours, kissing you deeply. You shimmy out of the robe and get under the covers with him. He holds your naked body close to his own, running his hands over you gently as you talk.
You spend the rest of the night in conversation and soft touches. He tells you stories about his life and listens attentively when you share yours. The connection between you strengthens with each passing hour and each soft caress and each sweet kiss.
When the sun peeks through the curtains of your hotel room, he pushes a stray piece of hair behind your ear.
"I think you're okay, baby. You haven't had any other symptoms and it's probably been long enough now that you would have."
"Should I leave?"
"Not unless you want to."
"I don't."
"Then stay. We made it to the morning. We can rest now." You nod and he settles on your chest. You're both asleep within minutes, wrapped around each other.
Eventually, there's a harsh knock on the door and someone calls to him from the other side of it.
"Hey, boss, we gotta be wheels up in twenty."
"Okay." He hollers back, groaning and stretching.
"I'm sorry I kept you up all night." You whisper.
"Don't be, honey, that's the best night I've had in years." You both get up and start to get dressed. When you're fully put back together, he grabs you and pulls you into a warm embrace.
"I hate that you're leaving." You mumble into his chest.
"Come with me."
"What? No, I can't."
"Why not?" You wrack your brain for a reason, but there's nothing keeping you here. Nothing that's more important than him.
"Okay." You look up into his face, your arms still wrapped around each other.
"Really?"
"Yes. Can we swing by my apartment and let me grab a few things?"
"Baby, I'm Elvis Presley, we can do whatever we want." He leans in and kisses you softly again. "You know somethin'?"
"Hmm?"
"I know I caught you when you fell, but I think you're the one who saved me tonight." He takes your hand to lead you out of the room and into your future. "My own little angel fell right out of the sky. I'm so glad you did."
******
The End
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Taglist:
@ccab @elvisfatass @elvisalltheway101 @aliypop @18lkpeters @dkayfixates @tacozebra051 @your-nanas-house @deniseinmn @joshuntildawn13 @lookingforrainbows @60svintage @littlehoneyposts @epthedream69 @louisejoy86 @rjmartin11 @from-memphis-with-love @deltafalax @atleastpleasetelephone @cinnamoroll-things
79 notes · View notes
gardenofnoah · 9 months
Note
hi bea 💕 saw your note from a few days about gently pushing a writing prompt in your inbox 💌 if you're still taking them, here's a thought i've let run wild in my brain. hope it helps with your writing rut! bakugou and kirishima coming home to a non-pro hero!reader after a grueling 2 month stint overseas. it's the first long mission they've gone on since starting this fairly new relationship. it's a little awkward, but everyone underneath is brimming with longing. no one's not sure how to break the ice and settle back into a rhythm. maybe some insecurities come out as dinner is awkwardly made. how do the three of us get back to a safe and vulnerable place? a lil sweet? a lil angsty? all up in our feels? 👀 is it a soft kiss that breaks the tension? a lingering touch? a massive dam that breaks with clothes haphazardly ripped off down the hall?
i am kissing your brain directly for this one omfg
it doesn't feel like you thought it would.
to have your beloved heroes back home should have filled you with the familiar contentment that only they bring you. the knowledge that katsuki and eijiro are here and safe, back to you like you made them promise, should be a welcome thing.
but the hours that scratched at your loneliness until it bled are between you now. a great divide—one that widens with every touch the two exchange in front of you. you stand on the other side of it alone—an unfortunate voyeur to the very thing you've yearned for but could not have. how odd it is that the very people you have loved bring up a completely different sentiment now.
how strange it is that some part of you wishes they were still gone.
the apartment that felt too big now suffocates you. the mahogany under your fingers seems a far better sight than the alternative. they chat idly about situations you aren't privy to, missions you haven't gone on—you keep your eyes trained on the wood grain to ignore what's looking you straight in the face: you are othered—you are outside of this. you trace a chip in the tabletop and think with some detachment that you could get up unnoticed.
"you tired, babe?" eijiro's head turns to you as you stand. it feels foreign to have his eyes on you. you gather your bowl and utensils in your hands and fight the urge to tell him to look away.
"yeah, no, i just—i'm not hungry."
"oh! do you want to pick a movie to watch?"
you shake your head, looking anywhere but him. your feet take you past him, headed straight for the kitchen or anywhere else but here. "no, that's okay. don't worry about it."
"oi," katsuki's rasp commands a pause in your steps despite intending the opposite, "what's that s'pposed to mean?"
you don't move an inch—it's enough effort to contort your face into something resembling a smile. something to appease. you can't look at either of them—you keep your eyes on the floor and will it to open up and swallow you whole.
you jump when you feel katsuki's warmth in front of you—far too close. he takes the dishes from you, setting them on the table.
"don't worry about what?" he murmurs, reaching up to tip your chin up. forcing you to meet his gaze.
it doesn't take much else to make you crumble.
you whimper as your eyes burn, blinking furiously to fight the way his face blurs in your vision. he keeps you there and it's torture—fighting the wave that won't stop coming when no one has taught you how to swim. full of fear that it might be the thing that washes away everything.
"baby—" eijiro gets to his feet, startled at your outburst.
"sit down, red," katsuki mutters, holding a hand to the side to stop him. it's absentminded at best yet still effective—and the only thing you can notice is the unspoken between them. there is a trust there that existed long before you and has only been strengthened in the months without you. eijiro settles back in his seat. the canyon deepens—you get farther away.
you know that fighting katsuki's grip on you is futile and you try anyway. he lets you get as far as arm's length away before his fingers close around your wrist and drag you back to him. distantly, you can appreciate the metaphor.
the palm that cradles the back of your head and traps you against his chest is a cruel one. heart to heart, something inside yours breaks.
"it hurts," you gasp. god, does it hurt—the wound sears as hands that feel familiar and wrong hold you tighter.
"take a breath,” he says it so gently that you’re not convinced he’s not someone else in this moment, “tell me what’s goin’ on.”
you do as he says—shuddering and staggered, all torn up in his arms. you feel put on display here in front of both of them—an actor who’s been the butt of the joke the whole time, unbeknownst to them until the final act.
"you left and i—" you squeeze your eyes shut, bearing down on the sob that would love nothing more than to punch its way out of you, "y-you had each other and i was alone."
neither one speaks—the silence stretches and waits patiently for you to fill it.
"you left and i was the one to miss you. i—i feel like i missed everything—i don't feel like i have a place in this anymore—"
the grief knocks the wind out of you when you get to the root of it. it was silly of you to believe you could ever have a place in this, really. two heroes at the peak of their careers, and you—a chain around both of their ankles. how could you have ever held on to those that are held just as tightly by a whole nation? would it have ever mattered, with the hold they already have on each other? there could never be enough room.
"do you think we didn't miss you?"
the blatant hurt in eijiro's voice brings you back to the present moment. katsuki moves back just far enough for you to see it etched on to the red head's face in a way you haven't ever. something about it makes you want to step back into katsuki's warmth, as if it could shield you from it. you can't answer him—and the silence is more shameful truth than you're willing to part with.
"baby," eijiro breathes, strained and thick, "i—we—thought about you every single second we were gone. every single second, i thought about how you'd be spending your day, and i was so excited to get to call you to hear about it. at night we would talk about how you were probably burrowed in blankets and our clothes on the couch, and about how badly we wanted to be there with you."
"you are a part of me," he goes on, goring you any way but softly, "you are a part of us. this doesn't work without you. i know you're hurting and i'm so sorry we had to leave—but sweetheart, you are what we come back to."
your knuckles are white as katuski brushes his thumb over them. he brings them to his lips—brushing over each one softly. you shake in his grasp and he doesn't falter.
"i'm tired," you whisper to no one in particular. it's a half truth—the why hangs in the air between you—but the fatigue is bone deep. it hurts.
"alright," katsuki's voice is raw in a way that feels like a knife in your side—stoicism given away to something far too vulnerable for him, "shower first. then we're goin' to bed."
the ritual you had in place before distorts under the weight of the night. the act takes on new meaning as you let him peel the clothes off of you and corral you into the shower. you're only under the spray a short second before he's gathering you in his arms again--warm and damp in the steam as he dips down to press his face into your neck.
"don't you run off on me," katsuki’s lips brush your throat and it only feels melancholic. he whispers his fear against your skin and all at once you realize that it mirrors your own. you feel eijiro's chest at your back, and when he reaches over your head to wrap a palm around the back of katsuki's neck, the pain fizzles out into something like remorse. how blind you'd been to the knowledge that they held the whole time—that you were the thing they'd wrapped themselves around and sworn to protect.
there's nothing left to say, and yet you speak your apology anyway, hoarse over the patter of water against tile. much louder is what you don't say: i love you. i need you and i'm afraid.
katsuki dries you off slowly, like he's trying to commit you to memory, and it makes you ache. you let him preen you in some animal attempt at strengthening the tear in the bond.
but it's only a tear. blood dries and wounds repair themselves just as the connection between you will. when you settle into bed, it gives under the familiar weight of the two halves of your heart. it's almost comical, the way they both wrap themselves around you—nearly swallowing you whole.
it might be to keep you there—but your heart settles under their tangle of limbs and love and for the first time in the months they'd been gone, you sleep through the night.
293 notes · View notes
barb-l · 5 months
Note
Isn't a writer question but was curious; How does wenclair different from other ships you've enjoyed?
Is it solely due to having been a lifelong Wednesday Addams fan, or is it specifically the Netflix's Addams world that you find intriguing?
I ask mainly because I recall you once saying that your wenclair comics--specifically the Next Gen Au I believe--are written and made with a lot of intention in regards to dialog and the discussions had between characters.
Is this due to a greater insight into the characters or simply a mark of growth in writing comprehension?
I like to think I put as much thought in all ships I've been hyperfixated on tbh. Wenclair isn't even the one I've been obsessed with the longest. So far it's actually Trimberly, for which and I was hyperfixated with for like 3 years.
But yeah ok I get ur point lol The intensity this time feels different, I suppose.
I think it's a mix of both being a long time Wednesday Addams fan and how cute of a ship Wenclair is both in concept and the canon execution of their dynamics.
As some of you are aware, I've been a fan of The Addams for a while now. All incarnations of them are great in their own way, but one of the many reasons why the animated 2019 movie is my favorite is because it didn't give Wednesday a bland ass male love interest. I don't think the B/W series did it(because Wed was like six in that) but the 90's movies, musical, and netflix series for some reason found it necessary to give Wednesday male love interests so painfully boring and i hate it. This isn't even about making Wednesday attracted to boys. I personally headcanon her bi, as the ol' stereotype that all grumpy/angsty female characters must be lesbian isn't my cup of tea, and also because I like to think all Addamses just don't give a shit about gender when it comes to romance. I woulda been fine with her getting a boyfriend so long as they're not boring af and goddddd canon incarnations still haven't delivered. Joel was sweet but he was too much of a wimp, not even Gomez is that pathetic. Lucas' thing with Wednesday was just portrayed in such an icky way in the musical that I couldn't finish watching by the time their sexually charged duet came on, and don't even get me started on the boys Netflix gave her. I expected better of Gough and Millar...(unless the blandness was on purpose like it was with Lana Lang--)
Anyways, because of all said canon love interests, I've been desperate for Wednesday to have a love interest that is both not painfully het or boring for once. Crossover shipping with Lydia Deetz from Beetlejuice the Musical was fun but was ultimately a very niche fandom. I could only draw and write for an audience of twenty or so people for so long. Parker from the animated movie would've been great, but the cop out with her mom dating Fester just made it too weird for me to be fully on board with the ship.
So when Enid Sinclair was introduced as a character I was absolutely ecstatic. On paper alone she already seemed great. She has a very distinct appearance (even if her "design" was inspired by Harlequin and it shows) that goes so well when she stands next to Wednesday, whether it's in the actual show, fan arts, or even in official merch. Her being Wednesday's complete opposite in so many ways makes her being paired with Wednesday so dang interesting too.
And I don't just mean aesthetic or personality wise. I'm talking about how one of Wednesday's struggle stems from having too much smothering love from her family as someone who gets overwhelmed too easily, and Enid's loneliness and insecurity coming from her own family's lack of love and attention where it matters most. Or how Wednesday's just girl who, deep inside worries about being an actual cruel monster like the very bigots she hates, while Enid is a supposed beast who resents herself for only being a scared little girl. Even the fact that Wednesday is an older sister to a soft-hearted younger brother while Enid is the youngest daughter to a bunch of rough-housing older brothers feels very on purpose.
Everything about Enid feels deliberate. Like she IS supposed to be paired with Wednesday, platonically or romantically. She's the best person to stand beside Wednesday as a character because they have enough differences and similarities to have interesting conflicts but also significant character growths sparked by each other. She's not bland or boring like the canon love interests because even without her attachment to Wednesday, Enid is still such a compelling character. The mere fact that she's as popular as she is despite an eight-episode series being her debut in a franchise that's been iconic to generations is already pretty amazing, and only a character as impressive deserves to smooch somebody as iconic as Wednesday Addams.
And their on screen chemistry is just *chef's kiss*
Tumblr media
80 notes · View notes
amourduloup · 1 month
Note
Sorry if you've already talked about this before, but what do you think about the notion that horror is generally bad because it has a misogyny problem, and that exploitation / r&r films are problematic and the ppl who watch them are suspicious? i don't really know how to explain what i mean too well but i know you usually have very nuanced takes about this kind of thing 🤍
i think i understand what you mean, no worries 🖤
honestly i don't think horror has a greater misogyny problem than any other film genre, though how the problem presents itself may be different. it's maybe more blatant within horror but not necessarily worse. movies have a misogyny problem across all genres, i don't think horror is special in that. horror films do inspire some strong reactions though, so i can understand why it prompts more discussion in that vein.
rape & revenge is a particular case, and it's difficult to discuss. i have a lot of thoughts about it, but i find it hard to put it down in writing because they're not very cohesive. i actually did a little research and asked around for material about r&r because i wanted to give an informed opinion but i didn't find much. it'd be easier for me to discuss particular movies anyway, because i don't think i've explored the genre deeply enough.
there are some &r movies i really really love and i know some people watch them because they find the degradation of women titillating -- that upsets me but it doesn't stop me from enjoying or admiring the movie itself. some r&r movies are, in my opinion, really interesting and engaging and i'd go so far as to call them beautiful and thoughtful. of course for each of those you'll probably find a greater number of misogynistic drivel -- but i can't affirm that for sure because so much of my experience has been guided by what other women have watched, enjoyed and recommended, so i've probably avoided whatever didn't have much to offer. but then that's always really subjective -- for example, i don't care for i spit on your grave but my mom sort of loves it. i don't think her opinion is any less valid than mine, and i find opinions differ a lot when it comes to r&r.
i do have a question that i'd like to pose to you but also anyone else reading this, which is -- what you think of when you think of rape & revenge? do you consider only exploitation movies or do you also consider titles like the virgin spring or kuroneko? because of course there's a lot to be discussed about exploitation films, and how some directors managed to make genuinely interesting works while trying to remain commercial and please a certain audience. like, there are things in r&r exploitation films that i could do without but i can still admire the final result. but then sometimes i think of like, thriller: a cruel picture and how the pornographic scenes impact the movie in a way that i personally find interesting because it makes it all the more brutal, and the director really managed to make it all very non-erotic and even cold and distant... sort of going through the motions in a way that imo fits perfectly with what's going on.
but there's just so much to discuss about exploitation and about r&r specifically, a lot of my thoughts are not very cohesive or well informed. i'm curious to know how others feel about it, especially other women, and i'd love to discuss it more. but it's hard to give a solid opinion because i can see the matter through many different angles. like, of course the fact that r&r often targets a male audience while exploiting the suffering and degradation of women is a problem and reflective of a bigger one. but many r&r movies have genuine value and, more importantly, have real value to a lot women.
34 notes · View notes
t0odumb · 1 month
Text
LOSERS MONOLOGUE
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
MattSurniolo x BestFriendReader
Summary: Matt will wait forever if he has to :(
This is probably going to be a series. Tbh I am mostly projecting my own feelings in this but idk. This song makes me cry and so did writing this because I have felt this way before. Let me know if this shit and if I should delete it.
———————————————————————
MATTS POV
I know it will never happen, Shes so pretty and funny any time I see her picture or hear her name my stomach flips and I get butterflies.
And I don't know if I'll ever stop feeling this way, at least not for a long time.
I've always watched her from a far waiting, hoping that something will change but it hasn't in the past 6 years. While she's seen me as her best friend since 8th grade, I've seen her as the only girl I will ever love. Sure, I've dated girls. but they weren't her, they didn't have her personality, her smile. Sometimes I will spend more time fantasizing about a scenario then actually being with her.
Mostly because these last months have become unbearable. Hearing her say "I just wish I could find a guy that loves me more than himself, you know?." knowing I would do anything for her. But I know it's for the better, having her away from me because it's too much, it's too much knowing she will never be mine, knowing I'm just her best friend.
I've seen her go from boy to boy and i can't help constantly be thinking "oh my god will she date any other man in this world but me?" It infuriates me and I find myself despising this woman.
But them she smiles and it's her. Sometimes it feels like we have something, the way I'll see her look at me from time to time I can't help but think for a moment she feels the same.
////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////
It was one of those nights where we had movie night in my room, something the 4 of us have been doing since 8th grade. Nick and Chris laid passed out on the air mattress while me and her laid on the bed, one her legs on top of mine.
As the end credits for the notebook played, I couldn't help but glace over at her face, she looked so peaceful and quite which was strange considering she talked throughout movies like she was in it, it never bothered me, I would rather listen to her than any movie in a heartbeat.
"I can't believe Nick and Chris passed out we have like three more movies to watch." she sighed be for reaching to grab the remote
"Their lost." I smiled as I admired her.
"Yeah" she paused and looked at me in a way I would look at her.
"Your better anyway" her voice was soft, and it made me feel warm.
I smiled and shrugged
"You'll always be my favorite person Matt." she muttered as her eyes were glued on the TV as she searched for another movie. They way she said it made me feel like I was more than that, more than a friend.
For a second, I thought I was hearing things, she can't just say something like that so casually. like wasn't completely in love with her.
I sighed "Why are you always doing that, saying shit like that when it's obvious how I feel about you and then you go and lead me on" I mumbled under my breath.
She turns at me, her eyes filled with confusion "what?" her voice was soft...almost like she was sad by my response.
It felt like an entirety passed before we heard nick wake up.
"What time is it" nick groaned and rubbed his eyes.
"Its 12:43" I say as I look at my phone, her eyes are still glued to me as she furrows her eyebrows.
"Come on I'll get you set up in the guest room." nick motioned her to follow him.
I opened my mouth to say something to her, to try and muster up a sentence, but nothing came out. She looked at me one more time before following nick out the room.
Mabey I just should have stayed silent like all the other times, Mabey it would be better for both of us if I just stopped, there is no way of winning if in eyes I'll always be a friend.
..............................................................................................................................
Let me know if it's good enough for a part 2 :)
Have a good day pookies.
32 notes · View notes
skittlesfics · 2 years
Text
Flufftober Day 1 – Wearing each other’s clothes Pairing: Steve Harrington x Reader Word Count: 2025 Warnings: fem!reader, mentions of extreme loneliness, brief alcohol mention but no usage Author's Note: Playing catch-up now that I have some time. This was supposed to be a drabble oops, but it is by far one of my favorite things I've ever written for Steve. See the full prompt list for flufftober here. Still accepting requests for who to write for each day! -
Steve’s favorite day of the week had gradually shifted from Friday to Saturday over the past year. Friday had been the night for parties, the night for first dates, the night for drives out to lover’s lake, the night for cold beers by the pool, and the night for whispered promises (lies) to push back the heartache. That had all changed, though, along with his friend group and his definition of a good time. Now Saturday was his favorite day of the week, because Saturday was movie night.
It wasn’t that he cared so much about what movies the group actually watched (okay he did care. A lot.) Nor was it the fact that you always brought some exciting new snack or baked good for everyone to try. No, instead it was the fact that Saturday nights were the only time that the museum that was the Harrington house actually felt like a home.
The halls were more vibrant, more warm. The pristine couches (not so pristine after Dustin spilled his Dr Pepper, but that was fine. Steve’s parents would never spend enough time in the room to notice anyway) actually felt comfortable for once. Steve could finally feel at ease with the beautiful cacophony of voices bouncing off the walls, never quite quieting down enough to actually hear the movie. He could feel like he had a real family.
That was why it always hit him so hard when it was over. Every movie had an ending, and half the group had curfews that had somehow become solely Steve’s responsibility to make. You would hang back to clean up while he drove everyone else home, but then you, too, would go. Then the silence would return, and then the cold, and then the loneliness.
Steve couldn’t do that, not tonight. Not when his parents had already been gone for two weeks, with two more to go, and he hadn’t quite been able to schedule any dates to fill the void since the day you had kissed him on the cheek in thanks for something that didn’t need a thanks at all.
When he came back from dropping off the kids, you were humming softly to yourself, picking individual M&Ms from the plush carpet where they had been left to get crushed underfoot after a particularly vicious snack preference disagreement.
Steve smiled at your back, wondering if you had any idea just how wonderful you were, or if that was a fact just for him. Like how pretty you looked when you were embarrassed, or how raspy your voice sounded when you woke up at 4am to keep a lonely Steve company on the phone.
He swallowed that thought, a mix of affection and his usual melancholy at war in his chest. This house didn’t want Steve to have nice things, and your affection was one of the nicest things around.
“Hey, Stevie, I was thinking…”
He was so lost in his reverie that he didn’t notice you stand up, the plush carpet swallowing your footsteps when you approached him. You were just suddenly there and he nearly jumped out of his skin. It was worth the embarrassment when you laughed, reaching out to grab his arm and squeeze. You could scare him all you wanted, if it made you laugh like that.
“Thinking’s dangerous, babe.” He quipped, hiding behind a lopsided grin. You wrinkled your nose and rolled your eyes and he prided himself at his own force of will. It took everything not to kiss you right there, and if he were a weaker man, or perhaps a smarter man, he would’ve done it anyway.
“Oh, shut up. I was thinking,” You continued, your eyes narrowing into a glare, daring him to interrupt, “That I might stay the night tonight, keep you company in person.”
There were no words for the warm melty feeling in Steve’s chest, the way his heart ached and yearned and was content all at once. Or perhaps it was just that the words felt too big for his mouth, too scary to vocalize lest you not feel the same. Instead, he pulled you into a smothering hug, dropping an affectionate kiss to the crown of your head with an urgency he hoped you understood.
“Please.” Was all he could manage, his voice thick with emotion. He wasn’t going to cry, not over a sleepover, but damn if he didn’t come close. He hadn’t wanted to ask, knowing that your parents were out of town, in case you had other plans. The loneliness of his house was unbearable, but the rejection would be worse. This was… perfect.
When you managed to wrestle your way out of his steel grasp, you were laughing, shoving at his arms when he reached for you again. This quickly turned into him chasing you around the living room, your high-pitched shrieks echoing in the empty house as you tried to evade his affectionate embrace. You were fast but he was faster. It was his house, after all, and he was an athlete. You moved to jump over the back of the couch and he grabbed you by the waist, rolling with you so that you were both laying on the couch, your body pressed against his.
You were laughing, breathless, and when you opened your eyes to look at Steve’s face, he was lost.
There was something so effortless about being happy around you. Something so natural about having you around that his general ennui didn’t stand a chance. How could it, when a pretty girl that knew him well enough to offer to keep him company late on a Saturday night was smiling at him, noses nearly touching, eyes wide and bright…
He should have kissed you then. Should have been less of a coward. Steve wasn’t an idiot, he knew what that look meant on a girl’s face, when your eyes flickered down to his lips and then back to his face. He knew that he wanted to kiss you. In fact, he had never wanted anything more than to crush you into his chest and kiss you silly in that moment. But he didn’t.
Instead, he used his grip on your sides to tickle you and you screeched, rolling sideways off the couch, laughter spilling from your lips as you finally escaped his grasp and fled to the other side of the coffee table.
“You’re the worst, Steve Harrington.” You joked. He knew you didn’t mean it, not with the smile still curving your lips and the laughter you couldn’t keep out of your voice.
“Yeah, yeah, I’ve been called worse.” He shrugged, sitting up, “Let’s get you ready for bed before you cause any more trouble.”
“Me?!” You scoffed, arms crossing indignantly. Steve hummed and stood, gesturing towards the stairs with a nod of his head.
“Yes, you. I bet you didn’t even bring a t-shirt. You can pick one from my drawer.”
You narrowed your eyes at his deflection, but still followed him up to his bedroom, flipping off the lights as you left each part of the house. Steve knew he was right. You hadn’t brought anything with you, offering to stay only once you had seen the sadness creeping into his gaze at the prospect of being left all alone once again.
He pretended not to watch you as you rifled through his t-shirt drawer. He was thinking about your lips, and the warmth of your breath across his face making his skin tingle, and your body pressed tight against his, and—He shouldn’t have been thinking about any of that. Not when you were doing him a favor just by staying the night, and certainly not when you were walking into his bathroom to strip out of your clothes.
He took your absence as a chance to change into his pajamas, trying to push away the thoughts of what your kiss would taste like as he threw on an old t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants that hung low on his hips. It didn’t work, of course. You were still you, and you were still there, changing into his clothes.
When you walked out of the bathroom, he was sitting on his bed again, propped up against his pillows with one leg hanging carelessly off the side of the bed. He hoped he maintained a normal expression, because he felt his entire universe lurch sideways at the sight of you.
You had chosen an old Hawkins Phys.-Ed. Shirt that was slightly faded from the number of times it had been washed over the year. It was just a grey-t-shirt, but it hung halfway down your thigh, the rest of your legs on full display, and something primal in Steve was screaming that that was his shirt. He had sweated in that shirt, bled in it, cried in it briefly after the bleeding. It was his, his, his, and it was a damn shame that you weren’t too.
He took a shaky breath, and smiled, pushing the caveman thoughts to somewhere they wouldn’t interfere because you were his best friend and you were staying the night to do him a favor and (you were wearing his shirt, holy shit.)
“Is this one okay? Sorry, I should have asked.” You had the audacity to look bashful standing there looking like sex, and Steve had to swallow to keep his thoughts straight.
“No, yeah, it’s perfect! I mean, it’s fine.” He stumbled over his words, cursing himself for the fumble, “I might have to let you keep that one; You wear it better.”
You laughed at that, finally fully entering the room.
It was worse up close. You dumped your clothes on the floor beside the bed and jumped up next to Steve, molding yourself into his side with your legs tucked under you. The smell of his laundry detergent on you made his thoughts race in a way that he might have been ashamed of if he possessed the capacity to be that anymore.
When he turned to make another joke, you were looking up at him through heavy lashes, chin tilted up to match his gaze, still smiling slightly, the ghost of a laugh still lingering on your lips. You were so pretty he could cry and when he instinctively found himself leaning towards you, he found that you were leaning right back.
Steve had wanted to kiss you for so long that he was sure the real thing could never live up to his fantasy. He had never been so wrong in his life.
Your lips were soft and pliant as he kissed you, the warmth of your body against his lighting small fires across his skin. You grabbed one of his arms with yours and squeezed again like you had earlier, pulling him closer to you like you couldn’t bear to be apart. He kissed you slowly, reverently, memorizing the way you felt in his arms, the way your mouth felt against his, the way you breathed when all you could breathe was him. There was a hollow in his chest that was suddenly full of you, all at once, and he couldn’t bear the thought of that going away.
When you pulled away, it was to press a kiss against his forehead, his cheek, his shoulder, his mouth again, and then you were smiling again and Steve just stared, taking you in.
“Thought I told you not to cause any more trouble.” He joked, leaning in to kiss you again, reveling in the way you shivered with delight at the press of his lips, the way you reciprocated without hesitation, the way your grip on his arm tightened when he tried to pull away.
“’m not trouble, Stevie.” You protested. You tried to pout, but Steve just kissed it away until you were laughing into his mouth, pretending to try to shove him away with no real force.
“No?” He asked, earnestly, “what are you then?”
He didn’t think his night could be much better with you so close, lips swollen from his kiss, but you nearly knocked him dead with your response.
“Yours.”
440 notes · View notes
valorianknights · 5 months
Text
This should've been the villain song in Wish
youtube
I just saw the movie and I was not impressed. The songs could've been better though. Especially the VILLAIN SONG.
The movie isn't the worst, but it's not the best either. It's just mediocre. It's fine.
Compared to the movies it references though (oh boy do they reference em'), it's just shows how vague and muddled the movie is.
I think it needed another rewrite or two, because it has the pieces there, they just need to be better connected.
I'll make a separate post about my thoughts on the movie.
Anyway, I think that with the context of the scene before Magnifico starts his villain song that " All That I've Done For You", would've fit much better. Especially with how Magnifico feels about the kingdom, his subjects questioning him, and could've given, us the audience, a little more understanding of how his backstory has influenced his behaviors.
This would have also been a nod to how in Encanto, where Alma held on too tight in fear of losing her home again. Except, instead of realizing he's gone too far or that his actions are hurting the people he swore to protect, he doubles down, he gets angry, he doesn't understand why no one else understands the threat to the kingdom. He then sees everyone questioning him as a betrayal to all he's ever done for them. They're traitors and will be treated as such.
If the story was better written then everything Magnifico chooses to do would be direct responses to trauma. He can still be the villain, but we should watch it happen. Like a fall arc.
The road to hell is paved with good intentions.
He's probably very paranoid of another threat that could destroy his home again. So what did he do when he lost everything? He researched, studied and practiced magic so he could become strong. So he would never lose again.
Then he founded Rosas. Why? So anyone in need of a home would be safe, protected and provided for.
Then he starts granting wishes for the people and this is what he becomes known for. But... Why? Idk. The movie isn't really good at giving a answer that isn't vague.
Why does he not grant all of them? Fear.
He's afraid, he's paranoid of the butterfly effect. He looks for every possible outcome for the wishes he considers granting and begins thinking of every worse case scenario, unable to see the good.
I feel like there should be a magic system of some kind, rules to how his magic works, maybe there are limits or consequences of wish magic.
Like equivalent exchange or his powers draw energy from his life force and uses the wishes energy? Magic? To keep himself alive?
Or if Disney wanted him to be evil from the start and really have him ham it up. Maybe use this song from Elena of Avalor.
youtube
Just replace the lyrics, he stole everything he wanted, even took my two pet mice, with
He stole everything he wanted, even took my parents' lives
35 notes · View notes
olderthannetfic · 7 months
Note
https://www.tumblr.com/olderthannetfic/730025691294449664/i-really-dislike-when-people-warn-about-something?source=share
This isn't about the post itself so much but I appreciate the suggestions in the replies about alternate terms to use that don't involve "warning" at all. I'm a college film professor who has often assigned content that is disturbing, and I've agonized a lot over how to do content warnings and what to call them, because while I haven't had problems so far, I know from talking to colleagues at both my and other institutions/reading studies about it that using the term "trigger/content warning" tends to turn on certain light bulbs in the heads of progressive students who are familiar with how those terms are used in progressive communities, where even if they're not that upset by that content they feel like the SHOULD be.... and those are the students who tend to cause the biggest headaches administratively if they feel like a professor who GAVE a warning didn't handle it correctly or shouldn't have been assigning the work in the first place or whatever. And that's also a thing I want to push against hard, because I've spent enough time in communities like social justice Tumblr and the feminist blogosphere before it to know that's a problem. I don't want students to think that to be a good feminist or ally or whatever that you HAVE to be unable to watch a rape scene in a film or TV show. I want to instead be able to discuss the framing of those scenes, and what is the difference between the more exploitative kinds of rape scenes we are used to vs. one that centers the feelings and experience of rape victims and is important to show because that is unfortunately a part of the human experience that we should be able to grapple with in film, like all art.
....At the same time, I don't want to just not give content warnings, because some students do legitimately need it. I've had students who had PTSD specifically request warnings from me. Ideally this should be handled by Disability Services, but we all know a lot of those offices don't do that and they often have barriers to entry that mean they don't catch every student. Plus, I want students to be able to have that who might need it but might not feel comfortable approaching me to ask for it. So there needs to be a solution that isn't just "don't give warnings at all."
Anyway, on a similar note, "warning" just isn't the right word for some of the things you want to give students a head's-up for. I for a long time resisted giving any kinds of "warnings" about consensual sex or nudity in film, because I knew American culture stigmatized that and I didn't want to add to that stigma. (And witnessing the recent discourse on Tumblr about "is it ever ok to have sex scenes in movies? is it ever useful for something besides getting people off?" (yes. easy question) has only added to that, although it's been my personal experience from teaching that the puritanical kids on Tumblr are firmly in the minority, just a loud minority, and that most of the university-age kids of Gen Z are just as edgelord about that stuff as every other generation has been at their age. I say this positively; I was an edgelord, too, still kind of am in my mid-30s, and I think it's legitimately concerning developmentally if you never go through that phase.) But I realized during the lockdown when I started screening films on Zoom - a practice I've kept up in some cases post-lockdown - and also when I assign things for students to watch on their own outside of class, that it's still a good idea to give students a head's-up for stuff, because they might be watching in public and it can be super awkward if you're in the wrong place and there's graphic sex/nudity visibly on your screen. For the same reason that most people on Tumblr asking you to tag nsfw content aren't asking because they're prudes, but because they browse at work or otherwise in public and don't want that showing up unannounced in a time when it could be awkward or get them in trouble. So I wanted to give students a head's up so they could decide ahead of time if watching in certain places was a thing they were willing to do. But I didn't want to call it a "warning," since that stigmatizes the thing.
So the stuff about "this may contain" is much better. And I feel like it's weird I didn't think about that before! Thanks!
(Sidenote: I kind of wonder if the "is there ever a reason for a sex scene?" discourse is so common on Tumblr because it's a very fandom-centric space and there are a lot of people getting their media expectations via fanfic, where when sex scenes show up it is usually at least somewhat with the intention of getting people off, and also when it shows up it tends to be a major feature of the fic - or at least people think of it that way, will decide not to read if they don't want any of that, etc. because of the way tagging systems on fic sites work. So the idea of media that includes sex where "getting the viewer off" has nothing to do with why it's there, but just because it's a part of life like anything else, or because of some other narrative purpose like "the way these two people have sex tells you about the relationship between them" etc. is just so foreign to people whose expectations are set by fanfic.)
--
TBH, last time we discussed the sex scene thing, it became clear that a bunch of people hadn't really been exposed to anything where sex scenes were well done, served a broader artistic purpose in a way that was reasonably obvious, and weren't aimed at the most cliched cishet dude audience tastes.
I don't think it's so much that fic is often horny as that fairly mainstream media contains a lot more sex and nudity than it used to, but the people telling those stories are no more varied than in the past. Some viewers feel like horny stuff that is boring and distasteful to them is inescapable, and that's exhausting.
If there's a fandom effect, I'd posit that the larger part of it is that when you hang out in a space where the default media doesn't necessarily prioritize a cliche of what cishet male viewers supposedly want, you become ever less tolerant of having the "default" shoved in your eyeballs all day long.
People have woken up to "It doesn't have to be like this" and "But I want to be the one catered to" but haven't quite gotten over the baggage of Only Men Like Porn or Sex Is Low Art or whatever.
Possibly there's some degree of effect from how fic archives are a space where people want to see only exactly what is their favorite while never seeing anything that makes them uncomfortable, which is very different from the desires of your average moviegoer at some arthouse theater.
45 notes · View notes
the-cat-and-the-birdie · 10 months
Note
idk about u but i nEEEEEED to know more about hobie & miguel's relationship. cus like. it's clear that hobie REALLY distrusts the society, right? from the second miles and him start interacting he's trying to push miles out from it, right? AND YET HE'S STILL THERE !!!!! and you could argue that that's because of gwen, right, and i'm sure that plays a part, BUT !!! him and miguel are STILL ON GOOD TERMS. they BANTER !! he, in some part, likes miguel, despite distrusting the society he leads. WHY !!!!! WHAT HAPPENED BETWEEN THEM i gotta know.
I KNOWWWW!! It's such an interesting dynamic!!! And I have a little story in my head of maybe why
Also this is SO LONG sorry
Hobie and Miguel's (working) Relationship -
[a breakdown of my interpretation of Hobie's experience and ranking within the Society]
First for context let it be known that according to the wiki, there are only 280 members of the Society - 90 of which are named so far. 280 out of millions of universes is a SMALL number - Gwen wasn't lying when she said it's a small team, technically that's the truth.
So that could be why the society is so varied - Miguel genuinely only picks Spiderpeople he considers to be either trustworthy, unique, talented, or all three.
He had to have specifically picked Hobie and said 'okay we have to recruit him' KNOWING who Hobie was. So already from the get-go I'm assuming Miguel knew what he was getting into with Hobie but he did it anyway!!!!
Which - is completely understandable. Objectively speaking on-screen we've already seen Hobie display:
Loyalty, Forethought, Technological Ability, Stealth ability, Planning, and Emotional Preparation (of Miles) and Communication.
[Like, his emotional swaying of Miles throughout the movie is..really impressive. I could write a whole thing on that. All I'll say rn: He could have broken Miles out himself, but he didn't. He let Miles free himself. He did that for a reason and that detail shows a lot about his fight against oppression and views.]
I mean - If Hobie is sent on a team mission with people who like him, he is very good at managing team dynamics, encouraging others, mentoring/teaching teammates, and leading others along plans, without being a 'leader'.
(And need I remind you - Hobie also broke a barrier 3 other spider-people couldn't take down, even with their collective strength.)
That implies Hobie is really valuable and really worth the stress to Miguel. Even moreso, knowing about Hobie's beliefs and doubts. Miguel probably knew he was a risk, but saw his work as too good to pass up.
So that means - Hobie had to prove his worth to Miguel at one point!
Which is really interesting, considering the show I've been watching lately (bear with me - pun intended)
So I've been watching The Bear on FX - and there was a scene in the last episode I saw that I think sets a good example:
Long story short - A new trainee chef named Sydney becomes the leader of the kitchen line, and an old time employee, Tina isn't happy about this and tells Sydney to fuck off. Tina's been there decades, and Sydney is now her boss. So the whole episode Tina is cold to Sydney, but she ends up taking on too much work, stressed with Sydney and her new work procedures that seem 'uptight'. But a sauce gets fucked over, and when Tina comes back from putting it in the trash, she sees Sydney has already started the sauce again for her, knowing this would happen when Tina didn't work with Sydney's work flow. And even worse, when Tina puts the sauce in the mash potatoes and tries it, she's like 'Fuck. This is good. This kid is good.' Not only did Sydney think ahead, but she also backed it up by improving the outcome, not just fixing it. And in that moment Tina has to check herself and accept that Sydney is on her shit, even if she's young and a bit abrasive at times.
Do you see what I'm getting at here????!!!
Hobie is Sydney here! The forward thinker!
I could absolutely imagine a situation where everything is going to shit, the society has exhausted all options - even Lyla has no clue what to do. And Miguel opens the floor up to anything, any solution someone can come up with.
And finally Hobie is the only one like 'You have to do X,Y,Z'.
Miguel may ignore him at first, or tell him he can't do Hobie's plan for whatever reason. But in the back of his mind he knows 'shit, that plan is airtight and it's all we've got'. And in the end it just works.
Super realistic to think that maybe the society had an issue or bug at one point with the watches, one tech was trying to fix for weeks. Only for Miguel to find out that not only did Hobie find a solution, but he'd fixed the problem weeks before it'd been on Lyla's radar.
Why? Because he deconstructed the watch the moment he got it. Why didn't he tell them he fixed it? Because Miguel didn't ask.
And it's not because Hobie is smarter than any other Spider-person, they're all smart as hell, it's just he thinks different. Especially in a way Miguel needs.
Maybe sometimes he plans against Miguel, which sucks, but when he's planning FOR Miguel, it's such a valuable asset to the society.
And Hobie doesn't even need thanks because he's fine knowing Miguel knows he's simply that good.
And I think it's pretty known in the Society too.
Interesting side thing: In the scene where Miles gets trapped. The people standing within the circle - Miguel, Jess, Hobie, Gwen, and Peter B. Gwen and Peter B. are there because they know Miles. Miguel and Jess are there because they're the Society administration. Hobie - in contrast, has only met Miles maybe an hour or two before. Why is Hobie there, and why no one is like 'why tf is he in the circle?' - My guess is that no one questions Hobie being there the same reason they don't question Jess being there. They see them both as high ranking, seasoned members, members who are use to putting in input to some degree, unlike say Ben Reilly who is kinda just there as administrative muscle. I think that says a lot about how valuable Hobie is seen - not just by Miguel - both in the field and in the societies ranking.
After a while Miguel probably realized that he needs Hobie and his thinking. He needs someone different. That's why he chooses people like Pavi or Jess, or seemingly random additions like Lego-Spider-man.
Cause they're unique and offer something that the Society could use and out of all the Spider-people out there, Hobie is inarguably one of the most unique - hands down.
I love that at the very least there seems to be a sort of respect there. Miguel isn't all rage. He's a planner too, he manages a whole multiverse and society. He's dedicated to keeping order, and he can see that Hobie is just as dedicated to keeping disorder.
Miguel knows that Hobie may not always do what he wants, but whatever Hobie does do - goddamn he does it fucking well
74 notes · View notes