#he does such a great job with this I'm just thrilled he gets to play sweet characters too

[wolves-in-the-world]

Goran Višnjić as Nikola Tesla in Doctor Who 12.4, Nikola Tesla's Night of Terror.

image descriptions below the cut

—

[1] A still from an episode of Doctor Who, showing Goran as Nikola Tesla in front of Niagara Falls with an audience of men in suits and top hats, only their backs shown to us. Nikola is gesturing towards the waterfall as he speaks. He's a tall, slim man of about fifty in an old-fashioned suit with a tailcoat, pinstriped trousers, a waistcoat and watch-chain. He has a moustache, and brown hair parted in the middle, a few inches long and styled neatly with a bit of a wave.

[2] Goran as Nikola Tesla gesturing towards a device I don't understand well enough to even describe except that it's two corrugated metal cylinders and electricity is arcing between them, blue and dramatic, while he gestures like a magician. His other hand is on a lever, his face obscured by a starburst of blue light.

[3] A close-up of Goran as Nikola Tesla with a lightbulb in the foreground gleaming with warm light. He's looking off-screen and smiling slightly, eyes large and grey-blue, eyebrows raised, creases in his forehead and around his mouth. He's wearing a butterscotch-yellow tie with a wing or tuxedo shirt collar.

[4] A side-on view of Goran as Nikola Tesla bent over a workbench doing something with a tool we only see as a faint gleam of metal. He's bent almost double, intent on his work, a curl of hair falling down above his forehead, his coat gone and his shirt sleeves rucked up to the elbow so that his arms are bare and evidently hairy. The scene's dark, lit only by a candle lamp.

[5] A view of Goran as Nikola Tesla looking at a figure mostly out of view, visible to us only as blonde hair at the side of the screen. Nikola's eyes are a little wide, his mouth slightly open, making him look bewildered, and perhaps wary - I thought of it as his "okay, either you or this situation is bonkers" face. His thumb is just visible at the bottom of the screen, suggesting he's gesturing or fidgeting with his hands.

[6] A view of Goran in a crowded street, no coat, standing almost a head taller than everyone else and gesturing with one hand in a way that signals frustration or defensiveness, his eyes closed, mouth open as he speaks. A few bowler hats are visible around him, and a few of Nikola's companions - Dorothy, a serious-faced woman of thirty or so with tightly curly hair and smart clothing; the Doctor, currently a woman with straight blonde hair looking curiously past Dorothy; and just a glimpse of Yasmin in the background in a flat blue hat.

[7] A side-on view of Jodie Whittaker as the Doctor and Goran as Nikola both paying rapt attention to a glowing green mechanical-looking ball in a dish, with the Doctor pointing her sonic screwdriver at it and Nikola bending down to watch at the opposite side of the desk, hands folded together as if he's fidgeting, intent on her work. The Doctor's in a long light grey coat with a hood, incongruous for the era, and it's clear she'd be a lot shorter than him if he weren't currently courting back pain.

[8] The same scene as before, minutes later - the Doctor only visible as blonde hair in the foreground, Nikola's face transformed like he's realised something wonderful, eyes on the Doctor and leaning forward slightly, or still leaning on the desk. His mouth is open as he talks, his eyes bright, skin creasing faintly at the corners with a real smile.

[9] The same scene as before, seconds later. Goran as Nikola is looking to the side, no longer smiling but serious and thoughtful.

[10] The same scene as before, seconds later. Nikola is looking back at the Doctor and raising his eyebrows in a question at something she said, his forehead creasing, his expression perhaps a little doubtful.

[11] A close-up of Goran as Nikola in a room with warmer and dimmer lighting, his hair coming loose a bit as short curls on his forehead, frowning as he talks to someone off-screen. The angle exaggerates his nose, emphasises the lines around his mouth.

[12] A different view of the scene, zoomed out. Nikola is bent over a worktable beside Yasmin, a young woman with curled hair and a smart navy-blue jacket, and they're looking at each other as though discussing a problem, Nikola folding or rubbing his hands together. The desk of a mess of wires and oddments, lit bulbs in metal cages and what might be the odd green ball from earlier.

[13] Nikola and Yasmin in a very different location, dimly lit, with strange red lights in the background and a green light over their faces. (They're on an alien spaceship.) Yasmin is looking down at the floor like she's stunned, mouth open, and Nikola is holding her arm like he's just pulled her back, but his eyes are on something or someone else we can't see. His eyes are wide, his expression startled and openly afraid.

[14] Nikola and Yasmin still on the spaceship, blurry machinery behind them, but Nikola is almost level with Yasmin now and they're standing close, both looking at a third party off-screen. Yasmin's expression is one of distaste and a little anger, and Nikola's eyebrows are drawn down, expression somewhere between bewildered and worried.

[15] A different scene, different lighting - deep blue in the background, warm light on Nikola's face. It's an odd angle, his head ducked as though looking at something, his expression serious.

[16] A different scene, perhaps daytime with electric lighting, Nikola in conversation with someone off-screen who's clearly shorter than him. His hair's a little disarrayed, eyebrows raised and forehead creased, but there's something of a smile to his eyes and his mouth that gentles it.

[17] The same scene, seconds later, slightly zoomed in. Nikola's eyebrows are lower, forehead still creased and eyes a little scrunched, like he doesn't understand yet what the other person means. There's something tender about it still.

[18] A different room, darker, Nikola grinning while the Doctor is mostly off-screen, just a little of her hair visible, except she's raising a hand for a high-five that he isn't reciprocating. Creases are splayed out from his eyes, deep ones around his mouth, his nose sharp from this angle.

[19] A different view of the high-five moment, focusing on the Doctor as she realises he doesn't know to reciprocate - the high-five wasn't invented yet - and starts to lower her hand. Her mouth is wide open, teeth showing, somewhere between a grin and talking, and her body language is open exuberance. The creases around Nikola's eyes are still very visible from this angle, though most of his face isn't.

[20] A view of Goran as Nikola with his eyes closed as if he's blocking something out, and a look of forbearance and faint frustration on his face.

[21] A side-on view of Goran as Nikola, a shorter man in the background and the TARDIS behind them both, its windows glowing white. Nikola's expression is determined and a little grim, more hair curling messily against his forehead.

[22] A view of Goran as Nikola outside, trees in the background, a blurry blue-white sky and what might be yellowish grass. He's wearing old-fashioned aviator goggles on his forehead, where they're pushing his hair up so it's even messier, and he's looking down at something with a troubled expression.

[23] A view of the Doctor and Goran as Nikola in the TARDIS, the scene awash in electric blue and peach-pink, and no other lighting. The Doctor's leant over the TARDIS controls doing something there and looking back at Nikola, who has picked up some sort of contraption and is looking down at it, expression either troubled or focused. The light on his face is blue, throwing his features into sharp and unflattering relief.

[24] A view of Goran as Nikola in the TARDIS still, the lighting blue, the angle of his shoulders suggesting his hands are on his hips, and his expression now one of open joy. His eyes are large, his mouth open and smiling slightly, soft creases on either side.

[25] A view of Goran as Nikola on the street, looking with his head tilted at someone in the foreground - barely visible, except for the bowler hat. Nikola's expression is tolerant, a restrained smile with narrow eyes, and his hands are probably clasped behind his back.

[26] A view of Goran as Nikola on the street, now talking to the Doctor, only the back of her head visible. Nikola's in the same pose as before, hands behind his back, only leaning slightly towards her now, his expression warm as he talks to her. The creases around his eyes are back, and it's another angle that emphasises his nose.

[27] The same view as before, only now Nikola's ducked his head, almost like he's shy, or needs a moment to collect himself. The creases have gone from his eyes, but the smile's still there at his mouth.

—

#Goran Višnjić #Goran Visnjic #doctor who #nikola tesla's night of terror #orig #genuinely just a screenshot dump please excuse the various lighting crimes #this was my exposure to the actor playing a genuinely nice guy and it turned my entire brain on its head thank you #he does such a great job with this I'm just thrilled he gets to play sweet characters too #also slightly offended the doctor didn't adopt him. c'mon doctor you need a nerd friend and he needs to be reminded he's brilliant c'mon #timeline shmimeline you could at least be penpals #anyway tumblr increasing the maximum number of images per post to thirty was dangerous and this is why #I should have to pare it down further but that's not happening. enjoy! #note that I do image descrips like this because I've found alt text doesn't always work on mobile. maybe only 'cos I say so much though. #also image descrips remain a mortifying experience. now all of tumblr knows I'm not normal about this man. #I didn't know it before either ffs

[powderblueblood]

HELLFIRE & ICE — eddie munson x f!oc as enemies to star-crossed lovers

CHAPTER FOUR — HOT SKIN and a HALL PASS

PREVIOUS | MASTERLIST | NEXT

summary: rules, you've recently learned, are for breaking– sanity is also, apparently, relative. after making a statement in the cafeteria, you play hooky with eddie in main street vinyl. content warnings: MINORS DNI tension you would need a chainsaw to cut through, farm-to-table snarking, do they even know they're yearning, nancy wheeler i'm sorry i shittalked you again (it will get better i swear) word count: 4k

Dear reader, do you ever feel like you’re completely losing your grasp on reality? 

You’ve cruised through life almost seamlessly up to this point. Yours is a well-oiled machine, one you painstakingly built yourself. But do you ever feel like you’ve spent so much time constructing something so carefully that it doesn’t make sense to you anymore? 

Like you can’t see the forest for the trees, or the treason for the thrill. 

Do you ever want to light your whole life up in flames, just to see what’s really fireproof?

“So, which is it?” 

You’re standing at your locker, making a bad job of touching up your now-flaking under-eye concealer when a voice rings out from the other end of the hall. It bounces off the cool metal of the lockers, the tack of the linoleum. It makes your shoulderblades go tense. 

“Has little Lacy been hiding a pair of brass balls this whole time, or is she on a suicide mission?”

You’d roll your eyes, but your face is aching. 

“Showing up with me this morning would have been one thing, but sitting yourself at my little table of outcasts? At lunch? The most important social event of the day?” 

Munson lets out a low whistle from where he leans, a couple of lockers up from yours. 

The hallway is deserted save for the both of you; you, out on a forged hall pass and him, probably just ditching to ditch. You peer at him from behind your locker door. He’s standing slanted in a long, lithe line made bold and jangly by his carefully curated metalhead armor. 

You, and this comes with a hefty dose of begrudgery, have to hand it to him– he leans great. 

“Talk about blowing up your reputation beyond repair.” 

You know he’s making fun of you– he’s not exactly subtle about it, nor is he about anything. It’s all in the lilt of his tone, how ridiculous he thinks the interwoven politics of the cafeteria are, how dumb he thinks you are for considering that in the least bit important. 

Munson’s idea of survival in high school is attacking conformity with a nuclear bomb, whereas yours is a little more artful. 

“I know this might be hard for you to comprehend, Munson,” you sigh, and the sound rattles through your ribcage– you are tired, tired of him, “given that your understanding of object permanence has clearly been stunted at an infantile level, but the world does not revolve around you."

"No?!" he croons, sarcasm slicking out of him.

"I was catching up with Ronnie.”

“Right, because you guys have been such good gal pals up to this point,” Munson scoffs. 

His face, framed by those wild waves, materializes in the reflection of your locker’s mirror, peering over your shoulder. You slam the door and pivot to face him properly, impact ringing out like a gunshot. 

He does a little jump, a shadow of his shock at you on Harrington’s porch. 

That reaction is like a shot of espresso straight to the veins.

Good. Be afraid. Asshole.

You're sure as fuck awake now!

“Lab partner love never dies,” you say, leveling his stare. “You’d know that if you showed up for Biology once in a while.” 

“Maybe I need a tutor. I could use someone to help me brush up on anatomy.” 

“Sorry. I don’t teach remedial.” 

“Maybe you should start. Rehabilitate your image.” 

“Again, who died and made you my parole officer?”

His expression cracks; a gasp of a laugh. “Oh, so you remember all that?”

“My hippocampus is alive and kicking.”

“Your hip– what?”

Your lips purse, and just as you’re about to throw another verbal dart at him, the voice of Ms O’Donnell cuts through the both of you. 

“I hope you two have a damn good excuse for loitering in this hallway– because if not, Mr Munson, I believe you’re less than one detention away from suspension.” 

Munson’s got this terminal disease where he’s more smarm than charm, despite his warped perception of himself. There’s no way he’s going to handle this with the grace that’s necessary, because O’Donnell hates him anyway. 

He keens his head in the teacher’s direction, ready to roll out some useless excuse. 

Before he’s even got the chance to speak, you cut him off. 

“Hall pass, Ms O’Donnell.” You flash the fake yellow slip at her, careful to obscure the names– you’ve usually got one of these forgeries to hand, just in case you need it, and teachers generally trust you enough not to check them out. It comes with the whole work-life balance you’ve been treading for the entirety of your high school career; you’re well-liked and you’re maintaining an impressive grade point average. They don’t give a shit what you do other than that. 

“The Weekly Streak has run into a printer snag and Nancy Wheeler’s car is on the fritz. Eddie,” his first name, which you never ever use, feels weird and heavy on your tongue, “offered me a ride to the printers to make sure it gets worked out– it’s a big issue. What with the game this weekend and everything.” 

O’Donnell’s eyes narrow. You nudge Munson right in his funny bone– hard enough for him to wince. 

“Right?”

“Right! That big game. Front page news, Ms O’D. Gooooo Tigers.”

The teacher clicks her tongue against her teeth, her rock hard stare challenging the delinquent beside you– it’s entirely likely that Munson could have blown it for himself just by virtue of being alive and in O’Donnells sight line, but you know she’s got no reason not to believe you. 

See, your reputation at the school newspaper precedes you; it’s just about the only thing that really holds your interest within the monotonous structure of Hawkins High. With your finger on the pulse of Hawkins’ student body, it only makes sense that you serve as a fierce and unforgiving editor of the Streak’s society pages– funnily enough, that hardline professionalism included never giving Munson’s infamously lame Dungeons and Dragons club a single mention in them. 

Vetoed, you’d drawled at one of the more well-mannered members that had shyly approached you about writing a piece. Not Ronnie– she knew better than that.

How come? they’d whined, as their fearsome leader glowered near the lockers just like he was doing now. 

On grounds of irrelevance. I’m not wasting valuable inches on a make believe board game club. 

This activated Munson. Lacy, you wouldn’t know valuable inches if they rammed you in the–

“Make it fast,” O’Donnell decrees, and you feel her watch you as you take off down the hallway. With a snappy quirk of your painted fingers, you gesture for Munson to follow your lead. And you better believe he does, almost tripping over his ratty Reeboks trying to keep in step with you. 

You both heave open the double doors, squinting against the unseasonable late autumn sunshine. Heels of your ankle boots clicking against the concrete, you make an unconscious beeline for the parking lot– for Munson’s van. 

“So– what now?” he asks, dur-dur dumb as all hell. 

“What now is I just got you a free pass to play hooky,” you say, little miss cactus flower, prickly with annoyance. You shield your eyes against the blazing light. “Weren’t you ditching anyway?”

“Yeeaaah,” Munson hums, scratching the back of his head, “But… the plan kind of was to smoke a joint and go to the record store.” 

“Doesn’t sound like a complete waste of time,” you hear yourself saying before you realize it, yanking at the van’s passenger door. You pause, raising an expectant eyebrow at Munson. Isn’t this your cue? 

Baffled, bewildered, but grinning despite himself, he extends that silver ringed hand and helps you haul your ass into his beat up chariot. 

Completely losing your grip on reality.

–

It’s a fugue state. It’s an out of body experience– you’re watching yourself from outside your corporeal form and you have no logical control over what you’re doing. 

That’s the only way to explain why you’re standing in Main Street Vinyl, elbow to elbow with Eddie Munson. 

But that might also be the weed talking. 

You don’t know where the hell he gets this stuff, but it’s strong– way stronger than the shit he’s sold to your friends ever since he started dealing. Well, you guess it makes sense that he’d keep the good shit for himself. You’d do that too, if you were him. 

What if I was him, you idly wonder, peering up at him as he flicks through letters R through T in the metal section. His tongue peeks out of his mouth as his ringed fingers work though the vinyl, carefully considering each one. 

This is what you mean by obvious– you, for one, would have the good conscience not to look so stoned while you’re so stoned. 

You definitely don’t look stoned right now. 

No one can even tell that you’re looking at him, up from underneath those thick lashes of yours. 

He’s got thick lashes too, come to think of it. 

Munson is actually not completely unfortunate looking– but again, if you were him, there’s no way you’d wear your hair like that. You’d keep it long-ish, though, you think. He’s got a point there; a nice curl pattern. Maybe to your ears. And the clothes obviously have to go– that denim vest is a patchwork disaster. Did he sew all those patches on himself? 

A vision of him hunched over the thing with a needle and thread in hand flits through your brain, pricking himself more than he can pick up a stitch. He’s gone out of his way to make himself look like this– kind of similar to the way you pick up your skirts so they’re always impeccably just short enough. 

Now, the leather jacket you could forgive if at least the collar was different. Maybe one of those Brando-style biker jackets, you could rock that. Or a brown leather number, to bring out your eyes– which are his eyes, of course, his crazy dark empty universes of eyes. 

The kind of eyes with the kind of stare that nails you in place and makes you want to do crazy shit like ditch class and get loaded and stand dumbly in a record store. Those eyes.

That are staring at you. He’s staring at you. Right back at you. 

“I can read your mind,” Munson monotones, unblinking. 

You go flush, heat crawling all the way up to your ears. “Wh–what?”

Then he nudges you and snorts, breaking the spell. 

“You have gotta stop thinking such dirty thoughts about me, ice princess. You’re gonna melt.” 

You scoff, shaking your head– but the cartoonish move is more to ground you in reality than a reaction to him and his idiocy. You’re Wile E Coyote after blunt force impact with an Acme anvil, shaking the circling birds away. 

“They don’t even have what I’m looking for here.” 

Stalking around the stacks of records, with no clear direction in mind, you feel Munson’s laser stare follow you. “Yeah, they don’t usually file Madonna next to Motörhead, Lacy.” 

They’re both filed under M, aren’t they? is what you want to say. “I don’t listen to Madonna,” you protest instead, all quietly miffed and earnest with a crinkle in your brow. 

“Mm, don’t think that’s true,” Munson smirks, rounding on you around the rack. “You gave me a pretty spot on rendition of Like a Virgin– or does your hippocrampus not recall?”

“Hippocampus,” you breathe out, but it’s lost in the din of Main Street Vinyl’s quiet, carpeted atmosphere, “I don’t listen to her, like, recreationally. I can’t help if that song’s an earworm.” A beat. “I also can’t help if you’re a particularly serenadable virgin.” 

“She’s gonna touch me for the very first tii-iime…”

“That was a threat.” 

You make an active attempt toward tunnel vision as you slowly tread through the store, feeling the high starting to turn on you– this was the part smoking weed that you hated, the few times that you’d imbibed in it. That lack of control over the way you were coming across. For a girl trained in the art of saying all the right things, this was dangerous. Your tongue felt both loose and heavy in your mouth, like it could come out with anything and you couldn’t stop it, it’d just roll on out. 

The malevolent presence of Munson and your pathological need to one up him wasn’t helping matters. 

Ever since the parking lot at school, you’ve been stalking around like there’s a target on your back. Evidently, you’re not the kind of girl that chills out when you smoke, which is equal parts a relief and a disappointment to Eddie. He wonders what you’d look like, mellowed out and floating. Your eyebrow unarched and your lips not poised for attack.

He’s also acutely aware that he wouldn’t know what the hell to do with you then, either. 

But he can’t tear his eyes away from you, a hyperfocus that he’s assuming is a symptom of his own buzz. Every little twitch and jump you do– it’s like it’s begging him to pay attention. Like if he looks away for even a second, he might miss something. 

“What are you looking for?” he asks, eyes trained on you while you thumb through the records. 

As much as you love music, and you do, you have a tough time describing exactly what you want to listen to. The notes in the songs that you revisit again and again read more like physical feelings, sparking off in your nerve endings. For example, listening to River by Joni Mitchell feels like something heavy is sitting on your chest. Listening to Hong Kong Garden by Siouxsie and the Banshees feels like you have fairy lights at the end of your fingertips. 

“I want something that sounds…” you say, noticing the distinct feeling of cottonmouth setting in, “Ticklish.”

“Ticklish,” Munson deadpans back at you. 

“Something that sounds like someone’s running a xylophone mallet down my spine.” 

He regards you for what feels like an excruciatingly long timewith this terrible, awful look on his face– brows ticked up over his glassy bloodshot eyes, pink mouth peeling into a grin, and this look, this look of wonderment. Like he can’t believe you’re real, and you’re here, and you’re saying shit like this to him. 

Join the club. 

“... You don’t get stoned a lot, do you?”

“Ugh!” you groan, a little louder than you mean to– the cashier shoots you a glare as you stalk past Munson, stalk past him, cheeks flaring pink. “I know what I’m talking about. I know it when I hear it– I heard a record just like that earlier this year! It’s like, some band from Scotland or something? Totally incomprehensible lyrics, yeah, but that’s what it felt like. It was like… bone deep.”

You hear Munson emit the teeniest hehe! and you just about snarl at him over your shoulder.

Rounding on the alternative section, limited as it is, you feel a welcome sense of familiarity. You haunt this corner when you can, when you’re out of sight from prying eyes. There’s only one other regular purveyor of this little corner of Main Street Vinyl that you know of. You trace a thumb over the spines of the cassette cases–it’s mostly tapes, rarely ever records because tapes are easier to import and harder to damage, and it’s always haphazardly organized–and then you spot it. 

Victoriously, you thrust it in Munson’s face, which is right over your shoulder. He’s frequenting that spot a lot recently. “Ha!”

“Oh!” he chirps, sounding almost pleasantly surprised and plucks the tape from your fingers. “... Cocteau Twins?”

You falter, eyelashes flickering as you look up at him. Dammit. He even pronounced it right. 

“You know them?” You hate how high your voice sounds.

He runs a thumb over the plastic casing, edging a little closer to you. That came outta left field. 

“This shit… sounds like what a haunted music box would sound like.” 

Aaand we’re back in the room.

“Okay…?”

“This is creepy, cursed doll music.” 

And the room is filled with assholes.

“Alright.”

“This is what you hear right before you’re about to get possessed by the ghost of Tiny Tim. The whiniest little bitch ghost of all time.” 

And all the assholes are named Eddie Munson. 

“I get it.”

“You better be careful with this stuff, Lacy-Wacy,” he teases, mocking that fraudulent concern ripped straight from an episode of Donahue. He taps the cassette case against your forehead. “Music like this is a gateway drug. A gateway drug to hanging out with, like, Jonathan Byers.”

You reach out and grab his wrist, tugging his hand and that damn tape away from your face. You’re shocked to find that the skin under your fingers is blazing hot–same as you felt through his shirt when he helped you to the door in your drunken stupor. 

Does he always run this warm? you wonder. Is it all that Satanic poseur poison coursing through his stupid veins?

“Well, it’s a little late for that,” you tell him, and you’re not quite sure why. Probably because every secret you swore would die with you is slowly but surely punching its gnarly hand from the grave, like fucking Carrie from fucking Carrie.

Munson doesn’t even express any overt shock, like he’s learning to roll with the punches of you revealing bits and pieces of yourself through sheer annoyance with him. He just cocks his head, challenging you with a silent, Really?

This chick. This blink-and-you’ll-miss-it chick.

“I ran into him in this corner a lot,” you explain breezily, tilting a shoulder up like it doesn’t bother you, like it’s never bothered you. “We’d always be standing next to each other at the listening booths, and I’d be listening to stuff I couldn’t take home and he’d be listening to stuff he couldn’t afford to buy and… We like a lot of the same music. We went out on like, one date if you could even call it that, and it didn’t work out.”

“Because he’s a creepazoid?”

“Because he was hip deep in it for Nancy Wheeler,” you supply, a green monster gurgling in the pit of your stomach. “Like every other respectable member of the male species.” 

It was the summer before junior year, a punishingly hot one even by Hawkins standards. You’ve never been good in the heat and that summer made your entire body feel ill-equipped, your skin ill-fitting. Main Street Vinyl had those big, big box fans right near the cash desk which was right near the listening booths, so you would spend the majority of your time there when you weren’t being forced to the lake or Skull Rock with your friends. 

Jonathan would look at you with alarm at first, like you were trespassing. Then he’d spy what you were listening to and sneak these small, shy smiles at you that you indulged in– at first, because you weren’t copping a lot of male attention from anyone else that summer. Eventually, it was because his shadowy eyes were always ringed with this tenderness, with knowing. Like you two were sharing a secret. It made you be able to look past the greasy hair and crippling social awkwardness. 

You know you rocked his world the day you breezed past him at the listening booth, leaned in and whispered, I love Linda Thompson's voice, don't you?

But still, the Love’s Baby Soft scented specter of Nancy Wheeler loomed large. You picked what you thought was a secluded spot in the park for your ‘date’, which included a conversation that was almost entirely cruise directed by you. Said conversation completely flatlined when you both spotted Nancy Wheeler cresting a hill, walking her family dog.

At this point, you and Nancy were most familiar with each other from the school newspaper– she, the peachy-cheeked junior, the rising star that was sure to make editor and you, the girl who knew where the parties were happening and where the bodies were buried. 

The picture of coquettishness, she offered you and Jonathan an awkward, stilted wave. Jonathan spoke a grand total of three words after she left, zeroing in on the spot where she appeared like a man possessed. 

You didn’t acknowledge his existence after that.

It’s not that you were particularly hung up on Jonathan Byers, but you didn’t expect someone like him to be able to elicit that cold sinking feeling you were used to experiencing at the hands of other boys and their ignorance. Maybe it hurt more because you thought you had something in common– something real, something that wasn’t shotgunning a can of Busch. Whatever it was, it made you sure of two things. 

You hated Nancy Wheeler, and she wasn’t going anywhere. 

You wished you didn’t hate her. But you also wished she’d dissolve into a fine mist.  

“Wheeler’s a priss,” Munson pulls you out of memory lane in a harsh left turn, face contorting into a half-grimace. It’s the general consensus on Wheeler– the shoes are too goody for everyone to be falling head-over-heels with her, if you want Eddie’s honest opinion. There’s no there there, not like with–

“I’m a priss.” It sounds like you’re defending her. In some weird way, you might be. 

I know what guys like you think of me.

“No, you’re a bitch.” 

His weight on the word bitch makes your knees feel unsteady. The way he says it. It’s not enunciated like an insult. It’s a dagger cloaked in velvet. It’s warm, like he is. It’s almost filthy. It makes you look at his mouth. 

“You’re a stone cold killer bitch,” Eddie’s voice hums low in his chest. His heartbeat is picking up, and he wonders if you can feel it where your freezing fingertips are squeezing his pulse point, “and I think–”

“You two truant assholes gonna buy anything today or am I gonna have to call the goddamn dog warden on y’all?” 

Heaved back into reality by the clerk at the cash desk. A trickle of cold sweat runs from the nape of your neck into the collar of your sweater. Heaved back into reality to see you’re still clutching Eddie Munson by the wrist, and he’s looking at you like you’re the last Popsicle. Cold shock in the middle of a summer’s day.

It gets so hot here in summer.

“I think,” you breathe as you unstick your fingers from him, suddenly aware that you’re parched and starving and your face hurts, “it’s time for me to go home.” 

“I– yeah,” Munson stumbles, also perturbed by the interruption. His red-ringed eyes gain a little more clarity. He’s seeing something you’re not seeing. He shouldn't be letting himself see that. “Let’s go.”

Let’s go back to the van. Let me make you look at me like that again. Let me see if you’re cold all over. I can fix that.

“No, I gotta…” Your head pounding, your thoughts swimming– the sharp and stupid realness of this whole afternoon coming into perfect view. What are you doing? “I need to walk it off.” 

He inhales sharply, a strangled chuckle– oof. That other shoe, that buckled heel of yours, clattering to the floor. He should have expected that, right? There’s no way you’d wanna… Because you’re you and he’s…

Eddie retreats back into himself a step or two; it looks like he’s gone all bashful, a little color dropping out of his cheeks. His hands clasping behind his back. His heart is in his big intestine. 

“That’s the second time you’ve turned me down today, sweetheart. Keep it up, I’m gonna start thinkin’ you don’t like me.”

Munson, get the fuck out of here before I ban you again! and Jerry, can’t you see me talking to somebody right now! explode in a cacophony, the boy and the keeper of the keys to the record store hollering at each other. You take this moment of interruption to nudge the door open with your shoulder. But you don’t start into the street without giving him one more look. 

“Lacy.” He’s grinning this dumb grin, eyes gone soft at the corners.

He’s giving this one last nudge.

Your heart thumps. A reminder– this is really happening. Shit. Fuck.

“That’s the thing, though,” you say, attempting to smooth your expression out with a frosty smile. “I don’t like you, Eddie.”

author's notes: of course, my eternal eternal ETERNAL THANKS for all the love you have shown this story and the anons you've sent!!! writing is crazy so thank you for caring about mine. onto the fun stuff because you know i love a reference: - he leans great. a shameless my so-called life drop but eddie to me is a kind of stunning midpoint between catalano (left back twice) and krakow (would go down on you for days) - someone in the tags said ronnie and lacy should hold hands and i don't disagree. lab partner love never dies! - there's never a bad time to listen to ace of spades by motörhead - there's also never a bad time to listen to treasure by cocteau twins, which is the album lacy is referencing - i always fee like the zombie hand reaching out of the ground motif is unfairly accredited to the living dead franchises or something like that, but of course the most iconic instance to me is from carrie (1976) because women own horror - god, we really need to bring back listening booths in record stores! like we really need to bring them back lest romance die forever. - richard and linda thompson, also forever!!!!! my headcanon for this re: jonathan byers is this particular record is a joyce byers influenced choice. joyce and lonnie loved this record (when they were happy... lol) and played it all the time when jonathan was a baby. their original copy got lost (or destroyed) and sometimes jonathan will play it in the main street listening booth but he won't bring it home because he knows it's painful for his mom. - all my stone cold killer bitches in the house make some noise - jerry from main street vinyl you will always be rob from high fidelity in MY HEART (eddie is barry even though he doesn't work there lmao) - ok my hellcats! that's all the cultural education for this chapter!! thanks again for reading, reblog and scream at me in the asks because i so appreciate (and need) the support and i'd also love y'all to send me prompts! don't be shy! i love an in-universe blurb!

#published by powder #in progress #hellfire & ice #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fic #stranger things fic #eddie munson x f!reader #e. munson by powder

[ao3cassandraic]

When angels overplay

Angels, playing a human role new to them, routinely overplay, in delight at their own cleverness and the sheer fun of roleplay. (Demons mostly don't. Crowley only piles role upon role on Bildad the Shuhite because Aziraphale prods him into helping con the angel posse. Until then, Bildad's basically just some guy -- if a guy who asks some rather foreboding leading questions -- to Job and Sitis. In s1, Hastur la Vista looks awful, but plays his role at Megiddo tolerably well; it's Warlock's child-outing-the-naked-emperor bit rather than any solecisms on his part that mess up his scene.) Angels just can't seem to figure out that sometimes less is more.

Muriel totally overdoes the Human Police Officer schtick -- Mrs. Sandwich clocks them just from a moment's glance at them, and so does Aziraphale -- because Muriel doesn't really know what they're doing so they think the thing to do is MORE OF IT. They kinda even know they don't know, but they have to get the job done so they just soldier (heh) right on. When Aziraphale pretends to buy their disguise, they are visibly thrilled.

Aziraphale totally overdoes the investigative-reporter schtick with the publican in the Resurrectionist. He settles down once he's getting some actual useful information, but the way he tosses around journalist jargon at the start is just as overegged as Muriel's Inspector Constable bit, and it comes from the same place of delight in roleplay.

Aziraphale's West End stage-magician career is also a masterpiece of Overegging It (when he isn't a basket of nerves, anyway). He only gets away with it because stage figures are allowed to be mega-flamboyant.

Here's the fun bit. Y'all ready for the fun bit? Here it is.

This applies to the Metatron too. He overplays his role as Kindly Oh-So-Human Appreciator of Aziraphale.

Oh, he does pretty well, the astute manipulative formerly-human-himself sod. He gets by Nina, no problem. The latte for Aziraphale (miracled or not) is a great gambit. He gets by Crowley, even -- Crowley's huge, huge, HUGE mistake is letting Aziraphale talk to the Metatron alone. (Crowley's contempt for Muriel's overplay, which he extends to angels in general, does him a very bad turn here.)

But then the Metatron says something that ground my brain-gears to a halt on my very first s2 watch. "You’re a leader, you’re honest, you don’t just tell people what they want to hear."

I'm sorry, are we talking about the same angel? The angel Aziraphale? The angel who flatly refuses to lead his troops in s1? The lying liar angel who lies lyingly even to the archangels and God Herself? The angel who when at odds with Heaven's archangels invariably finds a way to tell them what they want to hear, even if he has to convince them they want to hear it?

That angel?

Look, sure, it's meant as flattery, but the thing is, I don't think that is even the kind of angel Aziraphale wants to see himself as. He's not Michael or Uriel or Shax or Furfur, jockeying for empty titles and authority. He knows he's dishonest, and he's actually pretty honest with himself about it -- he confesses his lies to Crowley more than once over the millennia! He goes along to get along because it mostly works for him (and, of course, because he is always, always afraid).

But the Metatron clearly expects Aziraphale to buy this overegged line of utter boardroom-bafflegab bullshit. (Oxshit. Whatever. It's shit.) And the old boy's pretty damn pleased with himself at how well he thinks he's doing; he just oozes self-satisfaction.

I continue to hope Aziraphale doesn't buy it. He doesn't buy it. He does his standard go-along-to-get-along thing until he can get back to the bookshop and try to (codedly, codedly, anxiously, anxiously, the Metatron is still near) ask for Crowley's help.

I'm willing to be wrong about this; it's possible this is a cue to the audience -- rather than to Aziraphale -- that the Metatron isn't to be trusted. I don't think I am wrong, though. I think the Metatron went too far and Aziraphale (who is intelligent) caught it. Or possibly he'll catch it in (deus et Amazon volent) s3 when he's had a moment to consider.

P.S. I love that for all the swirling uncertainty about the details, the fandom has quickly -- and I believe accurately -- settled on the Metatron as the hate-sink string-pulling villain. We also seem to be pretty much agreed that there's one or several cons happening around the s2 ending, though again we're all over the place on the details. It's funny! I love y'all!

#gos2spoilers #gos2 spoilers #good omens season 2 spoilers #angel muriel #crowley #aziraphale #the fucking metatron #good omens meta

[riveranova]

(A/N): Aaaaand mama's back! First of all, let me say how grateful I was and am to get so many messages from people sharing their stories and wishing me all the best - made me tear up multiple times not gonna lie. Thank you all so much and let's dive right back in. <3

IkePri NSFW Headcanons x GN! Reader - Part 2

Warnings: Smut | minors DNI, would this really be a Nova original if there wasn't at least a lil bit crack?, Licht's getting a little sad

Characters: Chevalier, Luke, Yves, Jin, Licht, Leon, Ikemen Prince

Word count: 690

Chevalier Michel

yk i had a thought for this one

obviously hes a top

but but, hear me out - what if he wasn't?

:)

imagine his cold, blue eyes that normally resemble a frozen lake

well that thick ice is now shattered as he's pressing his head into his pillow, trying not to wake up his annoying brothers (Clavis) while you suck him off

hes a lil bit embarrassed about the way his fists and thighs are clenched together because hes Chevalier Michel, no one makes him this weak

well, exept for you of course

but no one is allowed to find out

i think that hes a little bit bratty as a bottom

like, you want to make him beg? well beg for it.

its kind of a back and forth

but just threaten him to stop and its like a different man lies before you

just imagine him beg for you to get him off in that deep voice

Luke Randolph

i'm a huge suporter of the 'luke only cuddlefucks' theory that a great researcher (me) brought to life

i mean that man sleeps the entire day so why not, right?

he gets horny really fast, just like Gilbert

hes also big, and i dont only mean his body

big boy, gimme a big booooy-

strong hands hold you in place - in front of him, holding you against his chest while slowly fucking you from behind

100% whispers sleepy shit into your ear

honestly so sweet

idk why this is so funny to me but imagine him just falling asleep mid-sex

you're just laying there like '...uh''

lucky for you, this man is into sleep play, so just finish the job yourself~

Yves Kloss

honestly? i think hes one of those really cute and soft tops

soft tops are the best, are they not

but i don't think hes really focused on the sex part

hes a big aftercare guy

he honestly just wants to spoil you and make sure you're all pretty for him

150 step korean skincare routine after every single session without fail

bathing together with him is the most normal thing in the world

hums into your ear while massaging your shoulders

praise praise praise

i honestly think that Yves would be so fucking obsessed with you - in a non-weird way tho

if youre comfortable then he is too <3

Jin Grandet

alright, heres my completely objective take on him

daddydaddydaddydaddydaddydaddy

god i love this man so much

crush me with those honke- okay, sorry

i think hes the kind of guy who doesn't want to have one big session but like short ones scattered across the day

lil quickies yk

hes also shameless

so he just pulls you away whenever he wants to and you know what he wants

he has these 'please im so horny its not cool anymore' eyes

and if youre like me then fuck it, leggo

gives zero fucks about how loud you are

castle staff hates it when he does that but as i said

shameless (hot) asshole

Licht Klein

grumpy ass bottom

not even bratty, just grumpy as fuck

but i think thats what makes the entire thing so thrilling for him

yeah so what if he doesnt care what you do? what are you gonna do about it?

okay maybe hes a little bratty

not the guy that makes a lot of sounds while having sex

he kinda just lays there enjoying the attention hes getting from you - the sex is just a lil bonus

tries to take control on very impatient days

but nuh- uh, his moody ass is staying down

100% sure that he has these 'pls humiliate me' days

theyre rare, yeah, but getting told hes the 'bad sibling' his entire life fucked a little with his brain

pls give him aftercare

Leon Dompteur

i swear i need three tries to get his last name right every single fucking time

anyways, this mans obviously a top

he treats you like youre the deity hes praying to every single day

literally worthsips you so much

i think hes a big vanilla boi

no choking or bondage, just sweet sweet vanilla sex

his hands are huge and everywhere, like a blanket that just never ends

big praise guy too

loves to give it and absolutely thrives off of getting some back

please tell him that hes doing a good job, tell him how good his cock is making you feel

hes a big cuddler too, so get ready for some cozy aftercare <3

#ikemen cybird #cybird ikemen #ikemen series #ikemen prince #ikepri #leon dompteur #licht klein #jin grandet #yves kloss #luke randolph #chevalier michel #ikepri headcanons #ikemen x reader #gn! reader

[lihikainanea]

I know you have had a little writers block and not much time to write but in case this can inspire more tiger and Bill hear goes. So Bill is working on a movie that is a mess. He took the job because because he really loved the director, but lets so with rewrites and other politics that director quit. Bill was still in a contracted he could not easily get out out and he did not want to quit something he had already put work into.

Filming finally started back up with a new script and he was doing his best to make his character believable. But his neppo-baby co-star was not helping. Of course he was also considered a neppo-baby by the US press but he did not think he was not a brat like this woman. She wanted to change things in the script. She wanted special foods and no one could talk to her unless she was officially on set. He could not even get her to go over lines or how he could respectfully touch her during scenes since they were playing a couple.

He of course talked though things with Tiger as much as he thought he could but this was a very tough shoot. He would come home late and only get about 6 hours before having to be back on set.

His mind is wheeling one night when he has to do a love scene with this awful girl the next day. Tiger calms him enough for him to fall asleep. His brain has other ideas to fix the thoughts he has about the next day. He dreams of actually having an affair with awful girl. And the sex is just....he wakes in cold sweat. He was moaning in his sleep and he can not even look at Tiger. And boy does he not want to go to work that day either.

Ohhhhh I like this.

Look, I mean, with how many films actors do--every once in awhile, they must work with fellow castmates that they just hate. Abhor. Their hatred is so thinly veiled that it's incredibly palpable to the crew onset, but thankfully things rarely ever make it to the press because of NDAs and big ass scary lawyers and the like. But every once in awhile--we, the ever little-seeing public--we get wind of it. Think Don't Worry Darling. The drama surrounding that production, for the so many reasons it seems to entail, was just--unf, chef kiss to those of us that still love the thrill of a little celebrity drama.

And I'm sure Bill, in all of his perfectionist nature, was also hated on a few sets. His perfectionist nature. His insistence on trying the scene 100 different ways, for 100 different takes, until he was satisfied. Not everyone performs to that calibre nor do they hold themselves accountable to such lofty expectations as that big swedish talking tree, but that's just who he is. That's how he works.

But y'know, I'd even venture to say that it's quite rare that Bill actually likes his castmates and fellows actors he works with. That's not to say that he hates their guts--not at all. But rather he's just pretty...ambivalent about the whole thing. Neutral. He's the Switzerland of film sets. He's a pretty private person in general, a pretty guarded individual, and for him this is a job. Onscreen chemistry is far more important than actual chemistry in this line of work, and he's able to separate the two. He can have great onscreen chemistry with someone that he's not super friendly with, and he doesn't feel any inclination to add the to the inner workings of his closest social circle. Beers after a long day on set is one thing, the occasional celebratory dinner, gifts for the make up and costume crew. Getting to know everyone on a first name basis. But beyond that, Bill is more than happy to go back to his trailer between takes, or go back to his apartment at the end of the day, and cook dinner with tiger or have drinks with some of his friends who flew out to spend a few days with him.

And on that note, he's probably had to work with a lot of actors that he really doesn't like. People who either take themselves way too seriously (Bill thinks method acting is the most ridiculous fucking thing anyone could ever do), or the opposite--people who don't take this seriously at all. And if you call Bill a nepo baby to his face you'll likely be tackled violently from stage left by tiger--but it's also why he's ultra sensitive about those nepo baby actors who don't have any talent, and don't even have the work ethic to build it up.

It's still like pulling teeth to get Bill to admit that his laast name opened up a few doors for him, but he'll also be the first to admit that his initial acting jobs weren't....uh, they weren't great. But he worked at it, he honed his craft, he worked his ass off, and now nobody can say the opportunities he's gotten have been handed to him.

But y'know, the thought of nepotism--well, it doesn't really bother some people.

And maybe on a recent film set, Bill is living in his version of hell. His love interest in the film is a girl in her young to mid-twenties, the type who grew up with two famous parents and all of a sudden decided she wanted to act--so roles were handed to her. Bill's not quite sure how she even got the job given how their chemistry read went, with Bill nearly glaring daggers at her the whole time. She's just the type of person he can't stand. She's loud about everything. She comes with an entourage to everything. It's always over the top, all the time. She never learns her lines. She doesn't give him anything to work with in a scene, reciting her lines like a robot and not leaving anything to improv, natural reactions. She needs a million takes for one scene--not because she's a perfectionist--but because she forgot her lines, or didn't listen to the notes the director gave her. Bill is pretty convinced this entire film could have shot in half the time if she'd just be a little bit of a fucking professional about it.

The whole thing irks him at first, then just pisses him right the hell off shortly after. She's late for the call time, when the other actors are sitting in the transport car well before the ass crack of dawn waiting for her to come out her house. She comes into the makeup trailer blasting her music and yelling along with her entourage, while Bill is reviewing his scene changes and trying to get his head into his character for the day--they knock over his coffee, get in everyone's way, and just never shut the fuck up. Her friends--and her--are all filming all the time, and Bill spends most of his time between takes trying to dodge ending up on someone's instagram or tiktok.

But y'know, it's just so pitifully ironic that the only scene this girl is keen to rehearse--a little too keen, actually--are any of the kissing scenes, or the sex scenes. And with one scheduled in just a few days time, this little nepo baby has been all over Bill trying to find proper times--evenings, of course, with a little wine to loosen up--for them to uh, practice. Bill's gag reflex has been barely contained.

And like, tiger bears the brunt of his rants at the end of every filming day. Whether it's 2AM or 2AM or anywhere in between, he always FaceTimes her when he wraps the day and tiger always thinks that vein in his neck is real damn close to bursting.

"She just...she doesn't get it tiger," he rants, pausing to take a drag of his cigarette, "This is a fucking joke to her. This is my job, my profession, and it's a fucking joke to her."

"Has anyone told her?" she asks, "Maybe she needs to be called out on it."

"Her dad's studio is partially funding this one," Bill exhales, the camera shaking as he continues to walk.

"You're fucked then," tiger smiles sadly. Bill just makes a frustrated noise before continuing to rant for the next hour.

And like, maybe tiger goes to visit him on set right? And she's not it before, the whole rehearsing an upcoming steamy scene with him--but wait wait, I'm getting ahead of myself here.

So, tiger visits him on set and sees firsthand what a fucking nightmare this girl is. Tiger spends most of her time in his trailer but somehow, she still has to dodge what feels like a million cameras all linked to a hundred different kinds of social media, all from her entourage. They ain't shy about questions that are none of their damn business either--shit like who she is, how she knows Bill, what she's doing there.

"I'm his bodyguard," she cracks, except tiger is kind of scary when she's pissed off and she's not really blinking so suddenly the gaggle of girls don't really know what to think.

In any case, tiger can definitely see why Bill has been so pissed off lately. Everything is a joke to this girl, she doesn't take anything seriously, and suddenly she's just real excited about the scenes coming up in a few days.

"We should practice tonight!" she says gleefully, as both her and Bill are sitting in the makeup trailer getting all un-done after the day. Tiger quirks a brow from the back of the room where she's playing with one of the other actor's dogs.

"No thanks," Bill says immediately.

"You can come by, I'll get some wine, we can loosen up."

"No," he says again.

"We need to rehearse," she continues, "We need to practice."

"I've had enough practice."

And thankfully one of the make up artists--tiger makes a note to give her a big hug after--one of the make up artists sees every single hair on Bill's neck stand up.

"Bill, sorry--can you stop talking? It's getting the make up caught in the creases and making it hard to remove," she says kindly. Bill gives her a wide smile.

"Sure, sorry," he says softly.

And that's the end of that.

But like, look. It's plain as day. Bill is chainsmoking. He didn't sleep that night, he just rants and rants at how repulsed he is, and how much he's dreading the next 1.5 weeks worth of scenes. Tiger does her best to distract him--keeps his whisky glass full, hell she even gets him in the sauna and sucks his soul out from his dick just to try and get his mind off it. But the sun rises the next morning as much as we sometimes wish it wouldn't, and Bill has to go to work.

I'll be waiting for you in your trailer bud," tiger says reassuringly, "Remember, you can take as many breaks as you need."

But y'know, here's the thing. Bill is getting through it, because he's a goddamned professional. Is he having fun? No. Does he hate every second of it? Yes. But it's not that. It doesn't take him long to figure out that this girl...she's purposely fucking up the scenes, just so they have to do them again. And again. And again. The scene where he has to push her up again a wall, rip her shirt open, and kiss the hell out of her? Somehow, that scene took the entire day to shoot. 57 takes.

The actual sex scene, him on top of her, both of them wearing nothing but tiny little pasties? Somehow, that took two entire days to shoot. More than 100 takes.

On any set that Bill has been on, things like that could usually be shot in anywhere from 4-6 takes--maybe half a day, depending on lighting and equipment needs.

Bill was livid. He drew the line initially and demanded a closed set, after she brought her entire entourage to watch that day. It took a lot of negotiating, but Bill wasn't budging on it.

And every single day that Bill went to set and have to film that, when he'd get home--man, he took it out on tiger. The poor girl was ravaged. Bill just needed her, needed to completely wreck her, just to get the taste and feel and everything of that other pain in the ass as far away from him as possible.

But y'know, Bill's mind is a cruel place.

And maybe its triggered by something small. He has a long day on set so tiger goes shopping, and when he comes back to his rented apartment she has some stuff strewn everywhere and Bill spots a shirt on the bed. His blood boils.

"What the fuck is this?" he marches over to it, holding it up.

"It's....my new shirt?" tiger says cautiously, "I thought it was cute."

"Get rid of it tiger," he snaps. He grabs his lighter from his pocket, flicking it open and holding it to the shirt.

"Okay whoa," tiger jumps, grabbing the shirt from him, "Easy bud. What's going on."

"She has this shirt," he seethes, "I don't ever want to see it on you."

"Ah," tiger says, "Right. You won't see it again bud."

"Promise?" he puts the lighter away.

"Promise.

But it's enough to just...kickstart some part of Bill's brain that should have stayed dormant. And that night, he drifts off to sleep with tiger in his arms and his thumb in her mouth--except he dreams of her. And it's ~spicy~. A stupid ass, unreasonable sex dream that felt really good. Amazing sex, actually, and from the noises he was making tiger wasn't sure if he was in pain or having the time of his life but the piece of plywood digging in to her back gave her a small inclination.

That is, until he woke up and all but shoved her away with enough force that she almost went tumbling off the bed.

"Bill!" she shrieked, but he was already scratching at his skin and lightly smacking his own face.

"No no no no no," he muttered, "No no no god fuck no."

"Bud?"

His eyes snap to hers and they're wild, pupils huge, his hair sticking up all over the place and his chest heaving.

"You," he says, out of breath, "Here. Now."

"What--"

"Now."

And tiger doesn't have time to do anything before two long arms wrap around her waist and haul her up with force, slamming her into his chest.

"Fuck me," he growls into her neck.

"What?" tiger's still trying to get her wits about her because a second ago she was asleep and comfy and now this wild ass enraged beast has his hands all over her and she can't quite keep up.

A hard spank lands on her ass and she squeals a little, but then he has his fist balled in her hair and his teeth biting at her neck.

"Fuck me," he growls again, "Fuck me into next fucking week."

"Bill, what the hell is going--"

But then suddenly she's in the air, and then she's pinned under his body as he looms--big and scary and totally wild--above her.

"Tiger, I just had a dream about her," he snaps, "And now you need to get it the fuck out of my head so that I never have to see it again. So I'm only going to ask you one more time."

He yanks her head back, licking up her neck before biting down hard on her earlobe. His other hand cups her harshly through her panties and she gasps.

"Fuck me," he growls.

Tiger is all too happy to oblige.

#bill skarsgard #bff!bill #bill skarsgard drabble #bill skarsgard fanfic #bill skarsgard fic #bill skarsgard fanfiction #bill skarsgard fiction

[thepeanutbutterwizard]

Half Sibling AU

What is Luz and Hunter's relationship in this AU?

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOKKKKKK THIS IS A GOOD ONE

I'm gonna put most of this answer under a read more, since this is all stuff I'm going to be keeping tightly under wraps for a few chapters in DoaF, but Luz and Hunter's entire thing is something I'm too excited about to not ramble about it

So the short story is that Luz and Hunter's relationship goes-

Mortal Enemies but in a grade-schoolers-on-the-playground way except the adults are giving them weapons -> Anything that That Idiot can figure out, I can figure out something even better with my way better magic! -> We helped each other not die in a drastic situation, but that doesn't make us friends...right? we cant be friends, we're Mortal Enemies -> Secret Friends, in more ways than one, but publicly they're Mortal Enemies. fistfighting is a legitimate love language -> overprotective and overly traumatized Siblings

Doaf is taking place during the Secret Friends part

The longer story goes more like this-

When Luz gets her first bounty at 9, it alerts Belos to her presence on the Isles in the present. He does whatever he does in cannon to figure out that Luzura the Crab Maiden was actually Eda the Owl Lady's own daughter! He found it a bit ironic, that the most annoying thorn in his side he'd ever had to deal with was the mother of the person who helped him meet the Collector.

Knowing he had to ensure that Luz completed the time loop, he decides to make Hunter his newest Golden Guard a few years earlier than he had planned. Belos had been considering accelerating the Grimwalkers training, but with the Luzura development he decides it's worth the risk. Besides, the boy seems smart enough, he'll learn on the job.

((Lilith thought the new Golden Guard was a short demon until she heard his voice))

Belos gives the Golden Guard a special assignment, one quite similar to Lilith's. He is tasked with observing a new, dangerous up-and-coming criminal, 'the Owlet', and learning as much as he can about her. He claims that he feels the Owlet shows great magical promise, and could be a valuable asset to the Empire if she could be convinced to turn away from her mothers wild ways and join a coven.

((It took all of Lilith's self control to keep a straight face when Belos said that. She had only met Luz maybe two dozen times over the last few years, but she knew the girls love for and loyalty to Edalyn was unshakable))

Hunter was absolutely thrilled to get his staff, and his assignment. He took to his task with all the might his eleven-year-old body could muster, and set off for Bonesborough to track her down

He is very disappointed when he finds her playing in the woods near town. This little kid was some kind of new big bad criminal? She was wandering around the woods, talking to herself and swinging a stick around, Titans sake she was wearing otter jammies!

Hunter figured it would be easier to just catch her then and there, so Uncle could just show Owlet herself that he was a good person, and that wild magic was bad, and then he could give Hunter an assignment fitting the Golden Guard.

Luz bit him.

It left a scar.

Most of the teeth marks fade over the years, but the ones from her primary fangs never leave his arm.

From that first meeting, a rivalry was born! Any time the Owlet and the Golden Guard ran into each other after that, they would pretty much try to kill each other. That turned into more of a proper rivalry as they grew older.

Owlet would create a new potion, Golden Guard would learn a new spell with his staff to counter it. Golden Guard would use some new cool parkour move, Owlet would stay up late training to try and keep up with the older boy.

Until an incident on the Knee, when Hunter is 13 and Luz is 11.

Luz and Eda had been collecting ingredients for potions, Hunter is up there on assignment with a squad of guards. The two groups run into each other, and of course a fight breaks out. Owlet and Golden Guard get separated from the rest.

They run into and upset some kind of demon with storm magic, who joins their fight, and Luz ends up pushing Hunter out of the way of a blow that could have killed him. The demon kicks up a storm, and Hunter, injured, tired, horrified, and confused, grabs an injured Luz and manages to get the both of them into a very small cave to wait out the storm.

The two kids work together to treat each others injuries, and after learning that neither of them have magic, they start to bond. It takes hours for the storm to pass, and when it does Owlet and Golden Guard part ways, find their respective camping parties, and expect things to be the same as they were before.

But the next time they wind up chasing each other across the Night Market and out into the woods, far from other people, their fighting kinda just...stops. The both of them had wondered about how the other kid was healing up, and after a few awkward questions they hear the Owl Lady searching for them.

Owlet runs to her instead of calling for her.

Hunter doesn't give chase.

Next time they're alone, they talk more.

Even more the next time.

And eventually they become genuine friends.

I'm debating having Luz give Hunter a secret Penstagram scroll a bit earlier than he gets the one from Darius in cannon, so that might be a thing but I'm undecided.

They're still really competitive, and sometimes they'll spend their secret hang-out sessions sparring for fun.

Things are kind of...awkward tho.

Bc of the whole, y'know, wanted criminal and high ranking law enforcement officer thing.

They try not to talk about...that. There are a lot of things they try not to talk about.

And by the end of the story, they're siblings through and through.

#the owl house #toh #owl house #toh au #the owl house au #owl house au #half sibling au #the owl house luz #owl house luz #toh luz #luz noceda #the owl house hunter #owl house hunter #toh hunter #hunter deamonne #hunter noceda

[darlin-djarin]

Hiya! I've been lowkey stalking ur blog for the last few weeks bcs i recently got rllllllly into dinluke and saw ur recent post about fic, so now I'm wondering if you have any reccs (dinluke ofc)?! I like ur content and read ur tags so I'd say our taste in fic probably overlaps. Hope you have a nice day!! 🌻

hey!! and yeah i’ve got a few fics that i think a lot of dinlukers might like

first let me link @transmascskywalker's list because that’s where i started out originally!!

now as for my fic recs~

some of these fics might overlap, i’m just putting down the ones i loved most. i’m sure i’ve read tons more but these are the ones i found that you can busy yourself with :)

The Storm by shirozora

Din Djarin needs a new ship.

Greef Karga makes him a deal - do some work for the guild and he'll get a brand new gunship. One such job takes him to a planet with a volatile storm system to track down a double-crossing bounty hunter. What he doesn't know is that the bounty hunter is there to loot an ancient Jedi temple. What neither of them know is that someone else is also on the planet searching for the temple.

And then the storm rolls in.

in-universe

sfw

multichapter/parts

my comfort fic btw ^^ i’ve read it so many times

Mystery Man by snapdragonpop007

Luke is seeing someone, apparently.

And really, it’s none of Anakin’s business.

Really.

modern au

sfw

multichapter/parts

one of the best, funniest fics i’ve ever read ^^

Unfold by SilverScriptings

Han can’t help but be suspicious of a certain Mandalorian who’s been spending an awful lot of time at the Jedi Temple…

in-universe

sfw

multichapter/parts

A Little Farther Down the Line by Chromat1cs

Austin, Texas, 1973. Din Djarin plays the guitar, worries about his kid, and runs aimlessly from a past that pulled the roof down around his ears. When a stunningly-talented duo of up-and-coming performers turns Din’s plans of being a simple session musician clear on their head, Din must decide between the safety of mundanity or the unlooked-at thrill of following his heart lest the tape run out on this track of his life before he’s through recording it.

modern (1970’s) au

nsfw

multichapter

the warmest bed i’ve ever known by ceedawks

pre-original series, din djarin is injured on a remote planet and found by an incessantly chatty farm boy named luke skywalker || i won't ask you to wait, if you don't ask me to stay || aka "making out with hot farm boys doesn't count as breaking the creed if he's blindfolded during it".

pre-ANH/meet on tatooine au (in-universe)

nsfw

multichapter

We Two Scorched the Earth by annathaema (moony)

That left Luke with a much bigger problem: The Sand People knew he was here, they’d likely sabotaged or stolen the speeder by now, and he was stranded in a cave with nothing but a rifle with three rounds left, a survival pack good for only a couple of days, and no transport home. Great. Luke leaned against the wall of the cave and tipped his head back, thumping the back of it against the stone over and over. He closed his eyes and wished for rescue.

Someone groaned.

pre-ANH/meet on tatooine au (in-universe)

nsfw

oneshot

Never leaving well enough alone by DarkIsRising

or Five Times Din and Luke Met (and one time they never parted)

He’s drunk, and he isn’t quite sure how that happened. That’s not true, Luke does remember vaguely how it happened, more or less, and it all started with Han.

in-universe

nsfw

multichapter

Yoda’s Academy for Li’l Padawans by MissDinahDarling

Being a new student is hard.

Being a new student whilst your socially awkward father avoids the school at all costs and your new teacher pines uselessly over a man he’s never met before is even worse.

But by god, Grogu is gonna get through this.

modern au

sfw

multichapter

Just Like Heaven by Kushana

At first, he watches.

Then, he touches.

in-universe

sfw (both aroace ^^)

oneshot

Romance As a Series of Debacles by The SexierEvilerCora

Han stumbles on a golden opportunity to make life difficult for Boba Fett, and drags Luke along as backup to crash a Mandalorian party.

Things do not go as planned for anyone involved.

modern au

nsfw

it’s unfinished with only one chapter but it’s still worth the read

Honey Lemon Popsicle by coffeecatsme

“Good morning,” Luke chirps, not even looking up from the stove, “my honey bunches of oats.”

Din blinks several times, trying to get his muscles to unfreeze, and opens his mouth.

Then closes it.

Then opens it again. “What did you just call me?”

5 times Luke calls Din increasingly weird pet names, and 1 time he finds out Din likes it.

modern au

sfw

oneshot

Restraint and Relaxation by Aureutr_Accoredge

Queen Amidala is sick of watching her son run himself ragged for every good cause he finds. When he collapses at his sister's engagement gala, it is the last straw.

Luke balks, so she summons one of her Mandalorian Knights to take him to the family's lakeside villa to make him rest.

By any means necessary

in-universe

nsfw

oneshot (v good ^^)

these are all the ones i recommend for now! i’ve read other really good fics, but these ones ^^ are the ones i’ve found myself return to at least one way or the other.

please let me know if you're looking for something more specific as well!! i'll do my best to find something for your tastes

#star wars #the mandalorian #dinluke #skydalorian #din djarin #luke skywalker #din djarin x luke skywalker #fic recs #i guess idk #this took me like an hour to compile #and i have like two other things i need to write abt lmfao #the things i do lmao #pinning just to remember for a little #oil.

[thecloudstan]

So happy you're enjoying "Rebirth". The devs gave us some good Rufus/Cloud scenes. Totally love how those two ended up flirting during their second fight at GS. Honestly, the devs just did a great job fleshing out Rufus (and the Turks) as characters and bringing up a lot of characterization that was established in the novels into the game. That one scene where Glenn mocks Rufus for being a "pigheaded, pathetic, daddy-hating" child gave me chills and made me wanna clap at the same time!

That Gold Saucer fight really threw me for a loop, I was shook for so many reasons. I'm so thrilled that they made him one tough cookie and decided to stick with this theme of one-on-one. Does Cloud HAVE to fight him alone??? No. But does he immediately acquiesce? Of course he does ���

As far as Rufus' response to Glenn, it tickled me to no end that he was basically like...yeah bitch, I own it. Being a daddy-hating handful nightmare human with high standards and low morals really gave him every single thing he possesses. And BOY does he like possessing things!! And pointing out when he possesses those things!!!

Two Turks things I'm delighted about: Elena's character, her VA's performance, everything. She's fantastic and I loved every second she showed up, even though she has that tendency (in the original) to be the bratty, brash, kinda dumb one. Those things are true, but she was also always very formidable. All the Turks were goofy one minute and downright intimidating the next, so I'm happy to see how beautifully that balance was struck with all of them. Second thing: TSENG ON A BATTLEFIELD. I was so convinced he was about to just call in a heli or something, but no. He gagged me!

The tone of the game is just amazing. Everyone in the FF7 universe had the tendency to play comic relief when the moment called for it, so I'm glad it felt so closely tied to the original game in that way. It's more like real life, isn't it? Sometimes everyone is laughing and the next moment it's back to business. And you never get a heads up on tragedy.

Thanks for the ask, nonnie!!

#stanswers #Anonymous #ff7 rebirth #ff 7 rebirth spoilers #spoilers #ff7r spoilers #final fantasy 7 rebirth spoilers #final fantasy VII rebirth spoilers #ruclo #rukura #strifra

[barbwritesstuff]

Hey again! I just wanted to write cause I FINALLY had the time to read the actual released version of Blood Moon. It was so nice to experience it fully polished!

Also, reading it all in one go allowed me to really think about it more deeply, and I realized one of my favorite parts of the story is one I've never really seen people talk about... I think it's fascinating how after the Alek's death, for a very "naturally Alpha-oriented MC", the pack seems to instinctively follow them from the get go. Like, it feels incredibly natural, like it's the right order of things. Simply because the MC knows what to do - or at least seems to know - and is willing to actually take things in their hands. I feel like in moments of vulnerability like this one, having someone who can be an "anchor" really helps. And in that moment, if the MC has the heart of an Alpha, they can be that anchor. Strangely enough, that segment is one of my favorite parts of the story despite being so "unassuming" in a way (well, it's an important and painful part of the story, but it's no big epic moment, no romantic moment, no stuff like that), simply because of how strongly we can feel what the pack must feel and the natural power shifts in it.

Another part I REALLY adored and that wasn't in the last WIP I had read was the epilogue. It was such a short segment, but I really think you outdid yourself with it! It felt incredible to read!

That aside, I also had three questions, if you don't mind me making this post even longer than it already is:

When meeting Farro for the first time at the gathering, if the MC shakes his hand and smiles, Farro is momentarily "taken aback" by MC's smile. Is it because he saw the similarities with Jay when he smiles? Or did he simply think MC looks good when they smile?

When all the pack moves in the den after Alek's death, it's said Marco leaves his room so Nikolas and Grace can take it. If Marco is in a relationship with the MC and the MC agrees to that, does he move into the MC's room at least temporarily, or does he pick a different place? It's never specified, and it's hard to get a true answer just from reading the story.

Last one is a bit different... I like to think once shit really dies down after the battle and everything that follows it, my MC will ask if Marco wants to marry him. But there is one thing I've been thinking about - I think one thing my MC would really care about is to make himself a sort of "semi-matching" tattoo before they get married - blue roses. Basically, something to match, but not to be identical. He'd really want to have this tattoo already on him when the marriage actually happens. Assuming that, obviously, this isn't done "to please" or anything like that, and something my MC REALLY wants for himself, what would Marco's thoughts be about that? (and yes, one of my reasons of asking that is me needing to know for when I feel inspired to draw my MC)

Sorry for this way too long ask! Thanks and have a great day!

I'm so glad you got a chance to play the polished version of Blood Moon and that you enjoyed it. Those are some of my favourite moments too. 💙

To answer your questions:

Farro is used to people being nervous around him because of his size (and because he's a shy mountain man that doesn't spend a lot of time around people he doesn't know). If you seem friendly and relaxed, he's surprised by how easy and pleasant this conversation is going.

Marco is only giving up his room for the duration of the siege. Long term, Marco would like to get a job and an apartment near the den. If he's in a relationship with MC, then they can join him there.

Marco would be thrilled and honoured if MC was interested in getting rose tattoos like his. I think he'd think that was really cool.

[xamvjay]

Can you maybe do Toji x f!reader riding him? It's fine if not btw :D (I'M 19 BTW)

|Ride me - Toji x afab!reader|

**WARNINGS: contains smut, explicit language, and sexual themes. MINORS DNI although I know yall horny out there reading it**

The picture above is NOT MINE and goes to the rightful credited owner.

All characters mentioned below are NOT MINE and belong to the Original Creator/Author/Illustrator.

This piece is a work of fiction and is pure imagination and is not real and does not involve in the original story/timeline.

Genre: smut, romance

cw: switchTOJI!?, switch afab!READER?!, fem!reader, exhibitionist, voyeurism, PDA, not proofread sorry folks

A/N: first ever req im getting (and i'm thrilled af pls) – thanks anon <3, i'm assuming yall loves dilfs huhhuh. and YES absolutely! AND WHYD THIS TAKE ME 4HRS LMAO IM SO BAD WITH THIS buttt here ya goo and enjoyy ~

wc: 3.3k sheesh -----------------------------------------------------------

‘And I’m done!’ I thought happily, appreciating the way I looked, shown by the reflection. Twirling a bit as I spritz some of the DIOR J'adore Eau De Parfum on myself and sigh happily at myself. Today was a special day. Today was the day when I finally got hold of my boyfriend, Toji who seemed way too busy with the odd job that he never told in detail. We planned a date after struggling to match with our hectic schedule giving no chance and decided that today was the day. Smoothing little unnoticeable wrinkles from my satin, black skater dress I slipped inside my cheetah print full sleeve jacket. A beautiful, plain diamond jewelry settled nicely on the base of my neck which was paired with a pair of simple dangling earrings.  

Combing through my hair that I styled with my utmost effort, I reached out the lip gloss in the shade of power red and swiped another coat on my lip and correcting the smudges and maintaining a gradient look. My eye makeup was rather done simply allowing my bright eyes to be the star of the show. Grabbing the purse that was sitting idly on my bed, I slipped my phone in but not before I checked the time. 6:55 PM – it read. I had a couple of minutes before I head out. Going to the small walk-in closet I turned over to choose what footwear will it be today. ‘I’ll just match with my jacket’ I thought mindlessly and bent over to take the high-block heel. Switching off the lights that were open, I took a glance once more at my well-maintained apartment and decided it was time. Today’s venue happened to be the cinema and it was perfect because I was able to get hold of the tickets for the most anticipated movie in my opinion – Top Gun – Maverick. Locking my apartment, I trotted over to the elevator and entered it while humming away at a random tune. A familiar ding was heard, and the doors slid, either way, revealing the exit/entrance of the building. Greeting a ‘have a good evening’ to the nearby staff I walked over to my car and revved up the engine.

Today Toji had some personal things to deal with so he said he wouldn’t be able to join me on the ride on the way to the cinema and said he would reach there on his way. Shrugging the sadness away as nothing when I heard that since he never broke any promises and always showed up one way or another was reassuring. A podcast played in the background from my open radio as I drove to the cinema. Today the city looked incredible. It could just be my happy mood, or it was always this extraordinary. The city lights blared from all directions, blinding your eyes in a good way. The level of serotonin I got from the view of the bustling people carrying out different activities was really thrilling. A group of musicians cheerfully played their best tunes while the crowd formed praised away. Smiling slightly, I focused on my driving.

Today’s gonna be good.

Parking my car at an empty spot I found I climbed out of my car, making sure I collected my belongings and switched off the engine, and locked the car. Checking the time once again it read 7:22 PM. ‘Oh great, I’m not late.’ I thought and strolled into the cinema and was introduced to a large hall filled with full of movie posters and stations packed with various flavoured popcorns and different soda machines all lined up. This time, the cinema was quite packed compared to other days. Families, couples, friends, and numerous groups of people were scattered around the place. Drifting my eyes from the crowd I performed a slow 360o spin and admired the neon lights that were running across the walls giving it a bit of a club vibe. Whilst spinning I accidentally bumped into someone but not too harshly but rather a soft one. Without looking I apologized several times and was ready to walk away until that person spoke with a hot breath next to the shell of my ear. “God was definitely showing off when He created you huh.” That voice. It was a perfect balance of clear but rough pure masculinity tone. I whipped my head immediately to that person and engulfed him in a big hug. “TOJI!” I squealed in happiness as I looked up, peeking through my lashes while his towering figure looked down on me. “Hey, babe.” There was a soft smirk drawn on his lips while that scar was stretched ever so slightly due to that motion. His black hair was shaggy as usual covering his eyes a bit. I stepped back and looked up and down at his attire. And boy did he look SEXY.

A black full-sleeved dress shirt was worn paired with black slacks. The first couple of buttons were undone from his shirt and his sleeves were rolled up to his elbows. A hand was tucked inside his dress pant pocket while the other was brushing on his hair. There was a black band ring that sat comfortably on the index finger of his right hand. Flustered slightly at the way his strong muscles were hugged by the black shirt. It was evident he was a built man. Every move he did there was a slight ripple and strain in those carved muscles I’ve witnessed under that shirt. It almost felt like the clothes he wore was just a second layer of skin. Going closer to him I whispered enough for him to hear. “You look really good tonight, a little too good.” I stated humorously giggling in the process and to hold of his free hand and dragged him into the cinema hall #4 where the promotions and advertisements were playing already.

The room was completely dimmed down while there was in built small circular lights on the stairs giving a nice relaxing illuminating glow. I choose the furthest row at the back so we can comfortably have a view of the full screen. There were very few people at that row, only two people were sat at the very far end from our seat. The below row was also empty to an extent as well. sitting in our respectable places I told Toji I was to collect the snacks, but he urged that he would do so. After exchanging few words of who should go, he won and left the room before I could argue anymore. Huffing slightly at his sweet acts, I sat rather graciously and settled my items, so I was relaxed. Few minutes passed and Toji appeared cradling a large popcorn bucket alongside with two cups of cold drinks, one being my favourite and a bag of other snacks hanging off his elbow. Helping to keep the items safely and not creating a mess, he soon joined me, and the movie finally started.

Around sometime in the movie I felt Toji excuse himself to the restroom which I nodded unconsciously since I was so focused on the movie. Few minutes passed and soon I realized he still hadn’t appeared. I decided not to give too much thought too it and opted to hang around for some time before I gave him a call. Few moments passed he came back looking rather disoriented. The light from the large, displayed screen showed how his shirt was more undone. There was a layer of sheen sweat on his Godly built chest. He plopped down on the seat and manspread-ed, occupying the entirety of his seat. He was slightly more slumped against the chair and his right hand was placed lightly on his finger; his expression tells me he’s in some deep thought.

“Babe? You alright? You don’t look too good.” I spoke out with great concern. Lifting my hand, I pressed against his forehead was felt extremely hot. Snatching my hand away I glanced at him with worry. “You are developing a fever!” I quickly got up only to be pulled down immediately with his arm wrapped on my arm. I fell atop him, my chest near his vision. Blushing at the odd position I was in, I wriggled from his grip. “Toji, what’re you doing!?” I exclaimed quietly. “I got this fever because of you.” He spoke lowly. What? I caused his upcoming fever? Impossible. “You’re gonna have to elaborate more on that but do that later when we bring that fever down.” I said sternly, trying my best to break free from his grasp but no luck. Couple of seconds passed and he gave no response but just staggering breathes were heard. “Toji, darling what’s wrong?” I muttered out softly. I brought my hand after gently convincing him that I’m not getting up and caressed his face. “Ever since I laid my eyes on you, I got so fucking hard it was unbearable.”  I gasped at his confession and locked eyes with him. “Darling, you were so focused in your movie I couldn’t disturb you. So, I thought I could take care of it myself.” Poor him. He was dealing with all this all alone without me knowing.

“Babe, you should’ve told me. I could’ve helped you; you know.” I spoke sweetly whilst my hands slid down his chest ever so slowly until it reached the problem. I softly caressed his hard on and kept a fixed stare on his face. “Babe– fuck, please help me…” He gently pleaded. How could I not help him when he laid there in front of me, looking so helpless. How sweet it was of him to not disturb me when watching the movie not knowing I’d drop anything to help him. Grabbing his large rough hands, I led them to run my hair over and hold a makeshift ponytail. I settled on the carpeted ground and unzipped his pants and stared at it. There was a wet patch on the dark, tight boxers he wore that hugged onto his pure thick muscular thighs. Freeing the hard dick from the strains, there it stood proudly. The tip had an angry shade of red – thanks to the light coming from the screen I was able to appreciate his dick properly.

The cockhead was leaking generous amount of pre-cum which dribbled down uncaringly. A thick vein ran underneath the shaft and made its way to the thick, large fat balls. Licking my lips at the delicious sight, I looked up at him once more only to find him looking back at me with such intensity in his green eyes. He bit his lip as he let out a low groan. “Fuck, you look so good down there.” The grip he had on my ponytail was tightened and pushing my face to his hard cock. Preparing my mouth for the abuse I kitty licked the tip and kissed the sides. Sucking the tip like a candy I stuck my tongue out and allowed myself to wrap the tip carelessly. I slipped the cock to entire my hot cavern and the part that didn’t fit I wrapped it with my hands. Pumping with my hands and I bobbed my head up and down I fought back the gag-reflex. I looked at him through my lashes as I kept my cheek hallowed and kissed the tip several times. Spitting the built of drool on the head, I kept pumping his cock and once again swallowed his dick.

“You look so fucking hot right now.” He spoke with a low pitch and letting occasional groans. Thank goodness to the blaring speakers of the movie hall, it masked the erotic sounds we were producing. Suddenly my head was yanked back harshly as he came closer to my face. A finger was stuck in my wet mouth, and I sucked it, swirling my tongue. Toji tightened his jaw when he saw how obedient I was being. A smirk broke out as my eyes land on those pink lips of his that was adorned with that scar. “As much as I’d like to fill your mouth with my cum and have you kept it till the movie’s finished, I think I’ll use that pussy of yours instead.” His voice was rough and hoarse but had a hint of degradation.

His hand motioned towards his thick thighs, and I gulped at the sight. “Get on my lap, now.” He ordered with a gravely tone. Nodding I sat immediately on hard thighs. His right hand that was in my mouth was now removing my panty and was completely removed. Feeling the cool air hit my bare cunt I gripped onto the arm rest wondering what he’ll do. “Don’t make a fucking noise, got it?” He spoke right next to my ear as I nodded. His free hand wrapped around my neck and had a slight tight grip, enough to cut out a bit of oxygen. “Where’s your manners? Hm?” He questioned threateningly. Nervously I answered “Y-yes sir.” A satisfied hum was heard, and my underwear was now a small ball and was near my mouth. Getting the idea, I opened my mouth, and the panty was shoved inside. “Very good.” His voice so husky, his tongue licked my jawline as he brought my back against his hard, chiseled chest.

The finger with the ring was wet presumably from his spit and now made his way to my cunt. His thighs nudged my thighs to open up more. His hands were carrassing my inner thigh as he teased my pussy but not quite relieving any pressure.  All of a sudden, he stopped his actions and moved around a bit, most likely removing something from his pocket. “Open it.” He whispered hotly and gave it to me, which I obeyed and opened the black case. There it was a purple clit vibrator. I gasped at what I opened but that went unnoticed as I had a makeshift gag ball in my mouth. He then took it from me and then placed it on my clit., nestling it and making it fit right. Squirming on his thighs at this foreign object contacting my pussy was kind of exciting.

“Relax darling, it’s just a vibrator.” He reassured and kept it there for some time while he held it. Few minutes later he proceeded to whip out the remote and there he played with the controls going from low to high intensity. Immediately I thrashed a bit at the random, sudden sensation I was dealing with, but Toji was quick to stop my movements and had me attached to his back. His free hand roamed around my torso until he it massaged my covered breasts. He slipped his hands under the dress and then tugged the bra under and kept teasing my tits. He flicked, pinched, rubbed circles and pressed on the hard nubs of mine. He did the same with my other boob switching hands and felt the cold ring tease my hard ass nipples. Moans were escaping my mouth but were muffled by the gag. My hand went to his cock that was right under my pussy, which was rubbing it, making it hard as fuck.

“Shit, if you keep that up, I’ll fuck you right here, right now.” He stated with few light groans releasing into the warm air. I moaned at his words and pushed my hands to have a faster pace. I want him to fuck me right here. Having a hundred or two sitting in the same room, shrouded with darkness with nothing but just the projector as our light. Anyone could catch us. We could get caught. We could deal with the securities but that’s what made my pussy clenching on nothing. I let out some words but were intelligible. “What d’ya say sweetheart? You wanna get fucked right here? Like a dirty slut? Hmm?” He questioned one after another, his tone had a patrionising tone. I nodded as fast as I could and urged his hand from my breast to go to my gushing cunt. A deep chuckled reverberated from his chest. “Well, do it yourself then. Use me while fucking me. C’mon darling ride me.” He spoke lazily as he flipped through the intensities making me groan and break out into tears. The thought just past my head. Riding him in a public place, sitting innocently on my boyfriend’s lap while no one knows what was actually going on. That he was practically rearranging my guts.

I lifted my hip and used my hand to align his hard leaking cock into my fluttering hole. Going down I felt him practically rip me open. He was so fucking big it hurt deliciously. Once he was fully inside me, barely sat comfortably as I felt his cockhead kiss the opening of my cervix. Looking down there was a bulge formed on my tummy where my uterus would be. “I filled you up so good, didn’t I?” He spoke to himself and tapped on my thighs to start moving. I slid up and down much with all the energy I had. This kept going on for maybe around ten minutes and Toji just sat there, doing nothing, his eyes were on the movie while he mindlessly switched intensities. Letting out a whine and tears of frustration came out as I couldn’t reach the high that was seconds of breaking open but not quite there yet. “What’s wrong baby? Can’t cum? Need my help?” I nodded but he still sat there looking at me deeply. Soon he removed the gag from my mouth. “Use your words.” He spoke with a bored expression while his face rest on his palm whilst his elbow rested on the armrest.

“Y-yes sir, p-please mmmhm I wanna cum so badly.” I pouted as I squirmed once again. His hands than held onto my hip and helped me to move up and down while simultaneously he pistoned his hips inside me deeply and accurately managing to hit that favourite spot of mines. My gummy wet walls wrapped around my cock as I felt my high coming closer. He set the vibrator at a high setting and alongside with him brutally hammering inside me was really pushing it. Groans and moans escaped quietly from both of us and mingled together. The slapping noise was there but thanks to the climatic scene that was playing, the speakers were blaring with all sorts of loud noises. Few more thrusts what caused the tight knot to snap and caused me to squeal out loud. The dress had already fallen back, concealing everything while couple of people below us had turned around, trying to find where the noise had come from. His warm cum painting my walls white as the remote was switched off to stop me from overstimulating. I rolled my hips, grinding and milking the remaining cum of from his shaft and squeezed Toji’s balls. “Fuck, you better keep quiet if you don’t want to get caught.” He snapped while tugging my hair making me fall backwards.

After two or three minutes of cockwarming and him softening up, still semi-hard he removed himself and helped me sit by the near seat. The soaked panty that was held in front of me and Toji, he smirked and assisted me in slipping it back on. “Don’t want that precious cum leaking out now, do we?” He spoke smugly, his vibrant green eyes were clouded with various emotions and one being is lust mixed with affection. It was slightly shroud with his jagged hair that stuck to his forehead due to the sweat. He tucked himself in and got up disposing the waste in the spare bag he brought. He enclosed the vibrator and slipped it back on his pocket. The movie ended alongside, and the lights returned, brightening up the place. As he stood up, totally towering me he leaned down and stole a wet kiss from me, his gorgeous veiny hard hands swiped away presumably the smudged lipstick from my cheeks and chin.

“Get your ass up, I’m not done with you yet.”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

#daddy toji #fushiguro toji #toji scenarios #toji x reader #toji x you #jujutsu kaisen toji #toji fushiguro #smut #jjk smut #jjk x y/n #x reader #fem reader #reader insert #dilf toji #oneshot

[oneticketfor]

One ticket for… THE FALL GUY (2024)

Directed by. David Leitch

Written by. Drew Pearce

Starring. Ryan Gosling, Emily Blunt, Aaron Taylor-Johnson, Hannah Waddigham, Winston Duke, Stephanie Hsu

Stunt Designer. Chris O'Hara

The Fall Guy was such a surprise! While predictable, this film is just a bloody fun time. I was lucky enough to see this in a packed theatre with strong audience reactions. Laughs, gasps, and cheers regularly filled the theatre.

Everyone played their roles perfectly. Ryan Gosling brought what everyone loves about Ryan Gosling- charm, humor, and sincerity. What sticks out to me about Gosling is that he never really takes a role he does not believe in. You can see that with the amount of heart he puts into this project. Gosling truly wants to shoutout the stunt actors who make the films we love. For example, Logan Holladay, who was Goslings stunt double in this film.

Emily Blunt nails the first-time director vibe and I could see Aaron Taylor-Johnson playing a pompous asshole forever. Winston Duke is a master of comedy and was just a delight to see in this. I'm glad that Stephanie Hsu got to be apart of some action scenes as well! Reminded me of how good her action scenes were in Everything Everywhere All at Once (2022).

And of course, the stunts. Now, I never considered myself to be an action fan (until I watched John Wick and realized that oh yes, I do love action). A film like this where one can kick back with some popcorn and be thrilled by stunt piece after stunt piece will captivate every time. Sometimes we just want to see someone get up after taking hit after hit. This film empathizes that those hits hurt. Even though it is a stunt mans job to get hurt, it still, well, hurts.

What helps is that The Fall Guy riffs on the filmmaking process itself. Gosling's interaction with the in-universe camera, the process of filming a fire stunt, and use of stunt cars (for the record breaking 8 1/2 cannon roll, which is reference din the film) all show the cast and crews awareness of the tedious process of filming stunts. The scene where Gosling's character explains how the sand is wrong for filming (and is right) shows the audience all the small details that a stuntman needs to be aware of to keep everyone safe.

The Fall Guy is a love letter to not just stunts but to filmmaking as a whole. The pro-practical effects themes and anti-deepfake plot was unexpected but appreciated. Hannah Waddigham playing the "we fix it with VFX" producer felt all too real. You can tell that this film was made by those who genuinely love their industry. They give a shoutout to the underdogs and remind audiences of what goes into the films they love.

Side note: along with Barbie (2023), it is great to see Gosling pursuing films that prioritize practical sets and SFX.

Other aspects of this film that I loved:

The score and soundtrack! The recurring riff from "I Was Made For Lovin' You" by Kiss was a treat. The scene with Taylor Swift's "All Too Well" made me want to laugh and sing at the same time.

Metalstorm as a concept. Every time that fake score played the audience was crying laughing. The most yellow movie I have ever (not) seen.

Highlighting the lack of an Academy Award for stunts, the world record eight-and-a-half cannon roll, and the inaugural credit of Stunt Designer for Chris O'Hara. Let's appreciate those stunts, folks!

All in all, I highly recommended The Fall Guy. It's a bloody good time that spreads awareness and appreciation for the art of stunts. I hope to see it in a theatre again soon! For years I have wanted Best Stunts or Choreography to be added to The Academy Awards. This film is a promising step in the right direction.

#film blog #film review #action film #the fall guy #ryan gosling #otf: reviews #otf: action films

[supercantaloupe]

don giovanni at wolf trap opera! this is long <3

right to the top of my list of don giovanni productions! while it does not take the place of my absolute favorite this was a REALLY solid production that i THOROUGHLY enjoyed; it might just be my new second place! desperately wish it was recorded for streaming or at the very least not a one-night-only performance but alas, at least i get to feel special about having been able to see it at all. director john de los santos you will always be famous to ME

the orchestra was definitely lacking some of the Oomph i really love in a good live performance but i think this is purely do to the acoustics of the theater being open air rather than the fault of like. the orchestra themselves. i thought they did a good job other than a couple of points when they were a little bit out of sync with the singers. great mandolin solo in deh vieni!

vocally speaking i thought ottavio (lunga eric hallam) and anna (renee richardson) were the standouts but everyone in the cast was very well suited to their roles. don giovanni (cory mcgee) was great but i am just personally not as into deh vieni being sung with That Much vibrato and grandeur behind it (i prefer it to sound more intimate) but that's me picking nits here

okay leporello is always gay in my heart but this is easily the most OVERTLY gay i've seen him yet. dramatic af. limp wristing everywhere. you can absolutely see why he follows the don around despite the Everything Else; he's obviously in love. it was pretty neat to see that played as obviously as it was for once!

definitely these are not MY versions of the characters exactly; leporello is a bit too "willing/enjoying the don's shenanigans", elvira a bit too bitchy, etc for my own personal interpretations of them. HOWEVER the production really COMMITTED to its characterization and i respect that. even if my own interpretations are a bit different, it was easy to follow along and still like the characters as they were presented. so kudos for that!

they made the don so. flamboyant is not exactly the right term for it because he wears mostly black with a bit of gold/dark purple accents throughout the show. but. there was a very strong Energy to him. the slightly silly mustache. the eyeshadow. the dangly earrings and sparkly necklace. the see-thru lacy black shirt. the way he moves like a dancer. being SHIRTLESS in the lass scene, possibly with glitter on his bare chest. Mother Fucker. absolutely captivating to watch. i hate him and i'm obsessed

this also has to be the FUNNIEST production i've yet to see; possibly this is due to it being the first production i've seen live in the theater surrounded by an audience, which i think always heightens the energy as compared to watching a video at home or even in a cinema, but regardless this was a really funny production of don giovanni. i'm a big fan; don giovanni IS a dramma giocoso, and i think a LOT of productions these days tend to forget that it's supposed to be at least kind of funny here and there. it should still be dramatic and emotional at times, yes, but you can (and should) strike a balance. and while this production was perhaps slightly less emotional than others, it was really funny in a way i haven't seen before in don giovanni, which thrilled me.

a lot of it came down to little acting choices (blocking, gestures, tone of voice, etc; elvira threw a lot of shit across the stage in anger in this. good for her), some of it on creative liberty with the translation (eg. elvira calling the don a straight up jackass and bastard at Multiple Points lol), and a couple of tiny additions that amused me. there were SO many little moments that amused me.

i'd say the biggest thing that disappointed me with this production was the number of cuts they made. it seems like they were working with a very strict deadline of "final curtain at 11pm sharp" (to their credit, the show ended At 11pm Sharp) and decided to trim some bits deemed the most inessential for that reason. with that in mind i think the choices they made make Sense, but it's still kind of disappointing when you're expecting a particular aria and it never shows up, or if you're a weirdo like me who basically has the score memorized at this point and you're like "wait a minute there's supposed to be more recit here". the show started at 8pm but it was originally scheduled for a downbeat at 7:30; i'm not sure what the reason for the change is, but i can't help but wonder if those cuts wouldn't have been made if they'd had those thirty extra minutes to work with.

at any rate, if this production ever got revived (either here or somewhere else, ideally without cuts), i would be THRILLED to see it again, and heartily recommend it to anyone else who's even remotely interested. cuts aside (and really that's my only big criticism of the entire production) it was a FANTASTIC experience and i LOVED going to see it so so much <3

also final note on the venue. glad i brought my little handheld fan because an open air theater in virginia in august is STIFLING lol. that heat and humidity really lingers after sundown! but the seats were SURPRISINGLY comfortable for the three hours, moreso than a lot of, like, proper theaters i've been to lmao.

#sasha speaks #sasha reviews #don giovanni

[pepsi-maxwell]

happy birthday to me!! premier league cmjf that is going NOWHERE. this is IT. just a snippet that will not be continued EVER

cut for length, sfw, ~870 words

-

» Stop chatting shit about my pass rate, you talentless hack. Just because you're not on the field anymore and your jealous

Punk looks at his phone. Looks at the timestamp on the message; 1:06am, and the time on his phone, 5:52am, and then wonders how the fuck Friedman got his phone number to send him this directly.

He recites an internal mantra about professionalism, impartiality, and conducting himself well in any work done outside of the TV studio, and then ignores all of it in favour of composing a reply.

« Don't think I won't block you here as well as twitter. You're on a team, not a one-man show, and I know your coaches have told you about this

He hits send and almost immediately regrets it because the kid does have coaches to teach him this, and he isn’t one of them. His current job is to give post-match analysis on a fucking football highlights show, be a pundit playing off a couple others, not to have every word he says about City’s, admittedly, top centre-forward be dissected by the man himself.

The universal symbol of a furiously typed response appears, and Punk cuts him off with a quick message of his own.

« Go to sleep, Max

Hopes the use of his first name might actually encourage it, but instead, five minutes later, his phone vibrates.

» Fuck OFF, Takeshita wasn't in position to receive and we would of gifted it to Zayn if I passed it which I'm sure you would be THRILLED [1/2]

» about, you're biases for your old team are showing yet again you old dickhead!!! [2/2]

He presses his hand to his face, rubbing at his closed eyelids because he isn’t getting into an argument with City’s fastest rising star at arse-o’clock in the fucking morning, but apparently, he is.

…Well, if he’s going to get into it, he can at least do it caffeinated.

He pushes himself out of bed, tests his weight on his bad knee, the same way he does every morning. Larry stirs, hopping off the bed, probably in hopes of a walk, and Punk looks out of the window at the sheets of rain pouring from a sky that would be slate-grey if the sun were up. Thinks, maybe not this morning, bud.

He makes for the kitchen. Scoops out some ground coffee, tamps it down in the portafilter before mounting it in the machine, checking the water in the back, and pressing the button.

By the time he’s done all that there are another 3 texts in his inbox.

» Just because you were one of the greats before your decrepid body have out on you, don't think you know how the game has evolved in the last [1/3]

» seven years, I'm the past present and future of this fucking sport I don't need to pass you daft twat I just need to score goals and I've [2/3]

» scored more than you in less games, more goals + more possession + less games means I am BETTER THAN YOU. [3/3]

Punk rolls his eyes. It’s a good thing he’s a quality player. If it weren’t for his nightmarish attitude at times, he could be truly great.

Punk thinks he’d have done well in the game back in the nineties. A throwback to the old days of booting the ball down the field, rather than the more technical back and forth of the modern game.

The lax attitude to rules and on-pitch violence wouldn’t hurt, either.

« Record for number of yellow cards in a season too. Maybe you should try harder to not have your gorgeous fouls observed

He hits send and immediately realises his autocorrect mistake.

« Horrendous**. You could have shattered Garcia's knee, it was a disgusting tackle, and I see you didn't comment on me saying that on motd

Too late.

» "Gorgeous" lmao your such a fucking creep. Bet you get off on watching your own old tackles you freak

Another eye roll. This conversation is going nowhere, and as much as he wants to insinuate that Friedman has definitely got off watching Punk’s old matches, because he’s also seen those interviews, Punk’s poster on his wall, favourite player growing up and all that, those aren’t the sort of messages he wants to have to answer to on his next Match of the Day appearance. These are damning enough as they are.

« Stopping this here. Go to sleep.

He gets a 🖕 in response, but nothing else. Breathes a sigh of relief. Grabs his coffee and sits down at the kitchen counter, sipping at it, watching the rain belt at the patio doors.

His phone vibrates again on the table and he thinks, what now, before he sees it’s an email this time, and his heart jumps in his chest.

Skim-reads the whole thing, and then reads it again, in detail.

We look forward to you joining the team.

As a coach.

For Manchester City.

He isn’t thinking about Friedman. He isn’t thinking about Friedman at all, and he certainly isn’t thinking of the lessons he can teach him on actually being part of a team.

Isn’t thinking of having to deal with the little shit in person on a daily basis.

... it definitely beats Match of the Day, though.

#cmjf #premier league au #godiva writes

[iohourtime]

Yamada Ryosuke x Yoshine Kyoko

anan 2296 Close Up

(I paraphrased a little. Please let me know if there are any errors. They also did individual interviews but I'm to lazy to translate. Photos in the bottom.)

- This is the second time you have shared a screen together, but this time, you are playing “Azakawa* man” Maruya Kousuke and the “Robot woman” Sanada Izumi who was unmoved by his killer smile.

Yamada: Since it’s a love comedy, getting the right balance between us is the most important thing. Izumi didn’t have a lot of lines and was very hard to read in the first half, so Kousuke was very frustrated & kept asking (himself) “What’s wrong with her?” This mismatched feeling is a point to watch.

Yoshine: Of course we have to make each character memorable in their own way, but we also need to make sure the charms of each character play off each other to become even more than that. Recently, I acted by making an effort to anticipate how Yamada-san would react / feel.

Yamada: To what extent will she go to play the “robotic woman”? I could see how hard she worked [in those scenes] .

Yoshine: “What do you think?” I asked frequently.

Yamada: I said something like, “Ah, it’s annoying.” (laughs).

Yoshine: And I said something like, “Well, that’s OK then.” (laughs)

Yamada: We go back and forth like that.

*Azakawa = Azatoi + Kawaii, which basically refers to people, usually female, who use their cuteness to get their way (whether for good or evil).

- Then Kousuke realized his cuteness will expire soon, he kept hitting brick walls at work. When you hit a brick wall at work, what do you do?

Yamada: I don’t think much about walls. Although there are times when I thought “Wah!”, I am the type who does not think there are walls that cannot be torn down.

Yoshine: For me, it’s now!

Yamada: Eh?

Yoshine: This role. I’m trying to overcome it now.

Yamada: Oh, I see.

Yoshine: Up till now, I have acted in many “Believe in what’s inside me!” roles. But this time, I have to be more conscious of the “robot” feeling than I thought. So I feel like I’m hitting a roadblock when I have to hide the “think of myself as a weapon” kind of thought. I felt the difficulty even during the table read. But when I asked Yamada-san “is it OK”, he said “just act like you do right now and you’ll be OK”, and I thought “I’ll believe him and act”. Your words pushed me through the first day, so if it didn’t work, it’s all his fault. (laughs)

Yamada: Ha ha ha (laughs). It’s my job as the lead to take full responsibility.

- You feel the many charms and strengths of your partners, right?

Yamada: Yoshine san was able to fully immerse in [her role] even during the table read of “Kiokuya: Anata wo Wasurenai” last time. I think of a table read as the place where you work out the closeness and balance of your scene partners, so when I saw Yoshine san fully committing at that stage, it felt really shocking and thrilling. Also, although I’m shy, since we played childhood friends, I worked hard to try to shorten our distance…

Yoshine: Because I rejected [him] (laugh). I’m also shy, so I don’t know how to shorten the distance.

Yamada: Although I wasn’t able to do anything for Yoshine san, who had a lot tough scenes last time, I really felt “this person is a genius” with the way she was able to immerse in her role. Since it’s a love comedy this time, I am glad we can have fun.

Yoshine: Yamada san is very good at taking care of people. Not only that, I think he is very good at maintaining a balance, whether it’s last time or this time.

Yamada: I’ll take that. (laughs)

Yoshine: Last time when I was struggling, you kept a good distance between us. I am the type who likes to be alone when I am concentrating, so a lot of people try to be careful and stay away. However, Yamada san still had me in his sights despite us not talking. I thought he gave me a really great sense of security… (joking)

Yamada: Thank you. (laughs)

Yoshine: Since you had sown a lot of seeds to get close to me, so I didn’t feel shy. Although I already announced that “I am shy”.

- Kousuke’s rival has appeared, do you think you must have a rival?

Yamada: It’s probably good to have one. I think it’s nice to have someone who can give you a good challenge, this way you can work hard so you won’t lose to that person. I don’t think it’s a bad thing to have [a rival].

Yoshine: I also don’t think it’s a bad thing, but I’d rather make friends than have rivals. I’m sure there are many ways a rival can exist, but I want us to be able to go forward shoulder to shoulder. It’s definitely more fun this way, to work hard [together]. I really hate losing to myself more than anyone. If I don’t do my best now, I will probably regret it.

Yamada: I can feel that a lot when I see that.

Yoshine: It's stubbornness to hate to lose. It’s a really bad personality trait. (laughs)

Yamada: No, no. It’s a good thing and is necessary for this job. This time too, you’ll probably win against yourself in spite of the hardship.

- By the way, you’re playing salespeople this time. Sell this drama!

Yamada: Each episode is worth 10 million yen!

Yoshine: If you watch it, your skin will become healthy.

Yamada: It will, next day!... No, that’s not what they asked for! (laughs) But really, it’s a drama that will make you feel happy the next day.

Yoshine: There is not a single hateful character, so it’s really refreshing.

Yamada: For people who want to feel your heart beat faster, and for those who want to laugh, please watch.

#yamada ryosuke #yoshine kyoko #anan 2296 #translations #Orekawa #ore no kawaii ha mou sugu shouhi kigen #my cuteness is about to expire!? #is my kawaii about to expire? #俺かわ #俺の可愛いはもうすぐ消費期限!?

[bengiyo]

Bed Friend Ep 1 Stray Thoughts

Bestie is sick today, and I've already seen reactions from others, so I'm going into this first episode warmer than normal. This is my first time with Net and James, and I'm curious to see why everyone finds them so appealing. Hoping Domundi does a good job with a workplace show.

I know this intro is a lot of tell mixed with show, but, after coming off of Chains of Heart yesterday, I appreciate setting up the initial layout of the world through our protagonist's internal voice.

Happy to see Yim, and happy to see a femme described positively.

While the credits are playing, let me just say how bullshit it is that iQIYI offers a tier for 4K streams and yet doesn't deploy that to its tv apps.

Domundi is developing a distinct visual look with their editing, and I actually like it. There's a softness that almost reminds me of Nadao.

I think a big part of the Cherry Magic appeal for me was that Adachi and Kurosawa were fairly equal at work. I'm not always keen on the boss-employee dynamic.

Starting on a loss for Uea, directly into a traumatic flashback. I think the young actor played the boy who drowned in Between Us?

I'm very curious what happens with the BL children in the next 4-8 years.

So Uea's Mon is abusive and homophobic. Call the people, because locking a child in the dark in the bathroom is fucked.

I'm sorry, Uea, but the nice apartment can't erase everything your mom did to you (and seemingly still does, given his reaction to her phone call). Hate that I've watched homophobic mom's hit their sons twice today.

King seems like he's been flirting with Uea for a while now.

I see Jade has entered the competition for the NAMGOONG BEST BOY AWARD 2023. It will be tough to beat Tiwson, but I applaud the effort.

I don't think employers should play with their team's emotions like this.

I'm having a lot of fun with Jade. It's nice to see Yim in a different role.

Oh, I don't like Uea getting this drunk. Hate how his mom expects him to financially support them after everything, and not a fan of Pock either.

I wonder why they chose to put them both in blue.

King really should not have this encounter with Uea. Net and James are clearly comfortable with each other, but I doubt Uea will be thrilled in the morning.

I think I'm glad Uea remembers what happened. Still, not a great starting line.

That sculpture and that pillow are doing a lot of work in this scene to obscure how nude King may be.

I think I saw some analysis that Uea's feelings around promiscuity are influenced by the mom, so he's in a state of self-loathing for "being a slut" likely in conjunction with King perhaps taking advantage of his intoxicated state.

I get King wanting to reassure himself about the encounter, but it's not like Uea talked to him much prior to that.

Oh no, the Toyota Camry!! Will the problems never cease??

Okay, a difficult starting line all around, but I'm intrigued. I'll be back next week to sneer at Uea's mom.

#bed friend #bed friend meta #thai bl #bl series #ql series #Ben watches

[sugarrspice]

When he opens the door, Livewire is sprawled out across his couch, playing with a knife.

Chase closes the door again, and just. He just stands out in the hallway for a minute, staring at the wood without really seeing it. So that's not an auspicious start to the evening, honestly, Halewood's most notorious supervillain lounging in his living room. That is actually what Jackie would call an emergency and a reason to call- one of them, any of them for back-up, really.

Instead, he opens the door again, a thrill running down his spine as he sees Livewire's sat up, pinning him underneath that bright green gaze.

That's something they warn every newbie against; don't flare your capes too auspiciously, don't make too big a name for yourself too fast, or Livewire will come knocking, scythe in hand with that brittle, brilliant grin of his.

Chase lets out a slow breath, and shuts the door behind him, dropping his bag on the floor. He keeps his hands out of his pockets-- for now.

"You make it hard to find you," Livewire informs him, and even through the crackle of static, he sounds gleeful. Livewire likes to cut his teeth on the newbies, but he loves a challenge more. Chase arches an eyebrow, leaning against the door, and wills his heart to slow its pace.

"You ever thought that was intentional? Journalism isn't exactly one of the safest careers in the world."

Livewire's grin splits into something outright vicious, and for the first time, his features sharpen into something recognizable. Teeth as sharp as his eyes, as his smile. There's only one reason he'd be showing him his face, and it's--

"Neither's heroism, last I checked."

...Maybe he does need to call Jackie. Marvin, too, while he's at it. Oh, they're going to have his ass.

His hands don't shake. He's too used to the adrenaline at this point, learnt that the tremors threw his shots too wide, too fast. He stays against the door, keeps his arms loose, relaxed.

"You're telling me."

"I'm telling you," Livewire agrees, and levers himself to his feet. "And I told you, several times, Tricks. Heroism doesn't earn you shit, besides an early retirement if you're lucky. A funeral that doesn't even get covered by the city, if you're not."

Chase groans, and scrubs a hand over his face; bad move, because when he opens his eyes again, Livewire is close enough for him to count each nick on his face. He's pretty sure he forgets to breathe for a moment.

"Did you uncover my fucking civilian identity just so you could come harass me about the same argument we have every Friday?"

Livewire shrugs. "I haven't seen you on the street in weeks. Maybe I just wanted to make sure you didn't kick the bucket."

"Or maybe I have better things to do with my time?"

Livewire only looks at him. He's taken a step forward, and they're chest to chest, now; the back of Chase's neck is buzzing very, very faintly.

"Better than me? C'mon, Tricks. Or- Chase, I guess to say. You know you have the most fun with me on patrol."

"The last time you said that," Chase informs him tiredly, "I landed in the hospital with a busted knee. It's Tricks, to you- I don't even know your name."

"Anti," Livewire says, easily, and Chase blinks. Pauses. Squints at him.

"Sorry?"

"It's Anti," he says again, and Livewire- Anti- cocks his head. This close, Chase can see the faint pull at his lips, just cocky enough to be a smirk. Oh, that's bad, that's bad if he's just being given Anti's name for free.

"Great. Point stands, I'm never trusting your idea of fun, nor am I trusting that you're finding my name and giving me yours for a check in."

Anti laughs. It's a little distracting, really, how cheerful he is even in his supposed nemesis' apartment. Cocky, relaxed. He hasn't stopped sizing Chase up once.

"Time off didn't leave you stupid. Good. Truth of the matter is, I needed your help, yeah?"

"My help," Chase says, dubiously, and narrows his eyes. "My day- well, night- job is literally to hunt you down."

Anti snorts. "Piss poor job you're doing of it, Chase, if I'm doing it for you. And I know you're better at your job. I think you just like listening to me, or that you think I have a point-- and either way, it bodes well for me. Am I wrong?"

The problem here. The problem here is that he's not, and Chase kind of hates that cocky smirk on his face about it. He firmly stomps on any and all urge to do something about it, because his apartment will not survive the fight.

The safest thing is to ignore all of that, and stare, channeling every ounce of Henrik's exhausted Saturday-evening energy. "What do you want?"

Anti grins, and leans against the door next to Chase.

"I'm not hearing a no."

"You're hearing a "you have five seconds to start explaining before I boot you out," L- Anti."

"First name basis and he won't even be honest with me."

Anti's eyes search his, and the fucker leans in closer. Chase is going to have a heart attack in this proximity.

"How good are you at heists?"

Chase sputters, and leans back, grappling for any semblance of a foothold in the insanity his evening has rapidly dissolved into. "I'm better at stopping them than plotting them, that much I can tell you!"

"Perfect." Anti's smile is nearly manic, eyes sparking. "An inside man, then."

"I didn't even say yes!"

Anti stares at him, and Chase can feel the expectancy in his gaze. He grimaces. "...Who's the heist for?"

"IRIS," Anti says easily, and he's watching too closely to miss the way Chase starts at the name. Gods all damn it. "Every cape this side of Halewood has history with them, and then a little more."

Chase knows that. Chase knows that intimately. He forces a steady breath, and stares at Anti; maybe if he glares hard enough, he can crack Anti open like a- fucking clam, or a walnut, and pry out whatever sheer insanity he seems to tick on. "IRIS employs half the capes this side of the coast. What do you want from them?"

"Same thing you do, crawling around all of those archives." Anti's smile is markedly more grim, now, a red slash mirroring the scythe that's-- actually conspiciously not present. "Something's not right with it. We're going to find out what."

"You're going to get yourself killed, is what you're going to do," he says a little faintly, and scrubs a hand down his face. "I need you to tell me more before I agree to anything."

"I bartend on weekends, for the nightlife in Sam's cafe. " Anti seems completely unbothered by the way he cracks open an eye to stare in disbelief. "Come find me afterhours, and I can get you a drink and tell you more."

"Are you asking me on a heist as a date?"

It's completely- Chase doesn't mean to blurt it out like that. But Anti only snickers, again, and pushes himself off of the door, heading for the window that Chase has just now realized is open. Chase watches him go, still a little stunned, still a little off-balance.

"Careful, Tricks, or I'll think you're interested in that kind of thing. Then again-- you wouldn't have kept me around if you weren't, eh?"

Anti winks at him, and Chase realizes, with something like dawning horror, that he's actually going to follow through. He's going to follow this damn maniac to the bar on Saturday, and take up his offer on a drink, and maybe plan a heist. As a fucking date.

"See you then, Tricks. Or don't- just don't keep me waiting!"

Chase watches him salute, and vault out the window, and tips his head back to hit the cool wood of the door. Oh, they're fucked.

#superhero au #antiaverage #anti x chase #egoshipping #ego shipping #spice writes #The next ficlet will not be antiaverage; I promise. #...This may or may not be another multipart series? Oh dear.