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longitudinalwaveme · 2 years

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Len Snart’s Creepy/Pathetic Proposals, Part 6

We now turn our attention to Flash #193: “Captain Cold Blows His Cool”. The issue was published in December 1969. It was written by John Broome, drawn by Ross Andru, and inked by Mike Esposito. It also has what is quite possibly the best Pre-Crisis Captain Cold cover.

Apparently this issue was the first Captain Cold issue comic book writer Geoff Johns ever read, and the cover in particular helped make him the Captain Cold fanboy we all know today.

The story itself begins with five elderly crooks escaping from prison. The guards go out to search for them, and ask a group of young surveyors if they’ve seen anything. They young men respond in the negative, and the guards drive off.

As soon as they’re gone, the “surveyors” reveal that they are the old crooks who escaped, having been de-aged by a mysterious sixth man. Said sixth man also gives them a mirror so that they can fully see the results of their transformation.

Old Criminal #2: “Looka me! I’m “Pretty Boy” Lloyd again!” Nice.

The old criminals ask their mysterious benefactor who he is, how he de-aged them, and why he helped them escape. He responds by ducking behind a tree, taking off his surveyor clothing, and very dramatically popping out as Captain Cold.

Captain Cold: “Get set for a big surprise--as I doff my surveyor-garb--and make a spectacular appearance as--CAPTAIN COLD! Fellow criminals, I’ve made you young again! I’ve given you back your youth--but you still retain your old skills--a fact that will be of supreme benefit to us all!”

Yes, Captain Cold has created a way to DE-AGE people! And no, he will never use it again after this issue. Nor will it ever be mentioned again, even though it seems like it could be really useful.

Old Criminal #3: “Captain Cold! Now things are clearin’ up---he can do anythin’ with that Cold-Gun of his!” Even things that have nothing to do with temperature or motion, apparently.

Pretty Boy Lloyd: “Yeah--he’s a real razzle-dazzler, Pop--uh--I mean Harry!” It is interesting that these old criminals seem as impressed as they are by the Captain. I almost would’ve expected them to disapprove him him needing “new-fangled gadgets” to commit crimes or something.

Captain Cold takes the old criminals to his hideout, which he has decked out with lots and lots of pictures of Laura Lamont, an old-time movie glamour queen in her seventies. She’s is Len’s newest stalkee-girlfriend, and, in addition to her age, she hasn’t been seen in years.

However, Len’s not concerned. He has the power to make his new bride-to-be young again, after all, so all he has to do is find her. And while he’s doing that, he’s going to send the old-time criminals to steal her wedding presents.

Because of a newspaper article she recently wrote, Len knows that Iris Allen knows where Laura Lamont lives. As a result, he disguises himself as a lawyer in the hopes of being able to convince Iris to help him find her.

Len on Iris: “A week ago an article appeared in Picture News written by Iris Allen--whom I used to be in love with before she went haywire and married that no-account police scientist Barry Allen! With me should could’ve lived like royalty-bah! Who can figure women out?” And this, Len, is why you still don’t have a girlfriend.

Also, Len’s disguise consists of a wig, some glasses, and a very fake-looking beard and mustache.

Captain Cold drives to the Allens’ house (which he knows the location of for...some reason) in a pink car that I’m pretty sure he stole, and introduces himself as Mr. Pendergast. He tells Iris that his client died and left a fortune to Miss Lamont...if she can be found, then asks Iris to tell him where Laura lives.

Iris refuses, but she does promise to contact Miss Lamont and tell her about the inheritance. Len gives her his card and walks away.

Iris tells Barry that she’s heading out to see Miss Lamont and tell her the good news. Barry, for his part, thinks that the lawyer looks familiar. His suspicions are raised further when he notices that the lawyer waited in his car for Iris to leave and then followed her to her destination.

He changes into the Flash and tries to follow them both, but since he doesn’t know where Miss Lamont lives, he loses them.

Then he gets knocked off his feet by a super-sonic blast emanating from a nearby building. He runs inside to see what’s going on and finds two of Cold’s crooks stealing an incredibly valuable painting.

“Young crooks? But they blew that safe like seasoned professionals!”

In addition to being unusually experienced, the crooks are also armed with high-tech weaponry. Since it’s apparently a sonic weapon, maybe Len got it from Piper?

However, well-armed or not, Flash manages to defeat and capture both crooks and take them to the police station.

The next day, at the police station, however, he finds that their fingerprints match those of Pop Handley and Fargo Jones, both of whom are pushing sixty. This confuses everyone, as nobody knows about Captain Cold and his magic inexplicable de-aging powers.

The police also tell Barry that there were a rash of other robberies that night, with a gold ring, a tiara, and a fur coat all being stolen.

Barry goes out to investigate as the Flash and heads to the site where the old crooks escaped. Once there, he finds a frozen stump and leaf and naturally comes to the conclusion that Captain Cold is involved.

Barry attempts to follow the residual radiation from Cold’s gun, but it’s been too long since he was there. “Captain Cold’s trail is too cold!”

Barry proceeds to run around the city in hopes of picking up a new trail. He eventually finds it at the store the mink coat was stolen from.

Barry uses the trail to follo Cold to his hideout. Upon his arrival, Cold somehow manages to use his suit to project a proto-cold field to slow the Flash down long enough for him to “reach my absolute weapon!”

Said absolute weapon is “this special attachment to my Cold-Gun!....It lowers the blast-temperature of my gun to below absolute zero!” SCIENCE!

Amusingly, Len even seems aware of how much science is breaking in this issue. “I know that sounds impossible-but then, everything I do is impossible! I don’t know what will happen when I hit you with this--but it’s bound to be absolutely horrible-oh, absolutely!” Was this a pun on “absolute zero”?

As it turns out, the below absolute zero weapon “not only knocked Flash to pieces like a jigsaw puzzle--it embedded the pieces right into the wall!” Um...uh...SCIENCE!

Len puts a picture frame around the Flash’s pieces, checks himself out in the mirror (”I must look my best tonight--my very best!”) and then goes out to propose to the woman he’s never met.

“I’m as nervous a a cat! I’ve waited so many years for this moment! Sometimes it seems to me that I’ve been in love with lovely Laura Lamont all my life!...But what if she turns me down?----Bah! She can’t turn me down-not with what I have to offer her!” Oh, Len....Interestingly, this is the first time that Len has considered the possibility that his stalkee-girlfriend might reject him.

Thus assured, he dramatically breaks into her cottage.

Captain Cold: “Please be calm, my dear! You have nothing to fear! I am Captain Cold! Perhaps you’ve heard of me!” Len, if you didn’t want her to be freaking out, maybe you shouldn’t have broken into her house and dramatically proclaimed yourself as a well-known criminal.

Laura: “Oh, yes--I’ve heard of you! You’re an evildoer--a ruthless criminal!”

Captain Cold: “Nothing of the sort--I’ve gotten a bad press, that’s all! Deep down, my heart is filled with love-especially for you, darling! I want you to be my wife! But before you reply, listen! To begin with, as one of your wedding presents, I’m prepared to give you back your youth--your beauty of years ago!” Question: What would Len have done if she was okay with marrying him, but asked him not to make her young again? Would he have been on board with marrying a woman who’s probably at least forty years his senior? That might’ve made for a more interesting story than what we got, actually.

Back to the actual story, Laura thinks that he’s making fun of her. In response, he pulls out his cold gun, points it directly at her face, and shoots her with it! Way to calm her down, Len.

He tells her to go look in a mirror, and when she does, she sees that she’s young again. She asks him how he did this, and he replies that he’ll tell her after they’re married. Then he takes her back to his hideout.

Once they arrive (and she changes or he makes her change into a red dress for some reason), he presents her with the crown, the mink coat, and a bunch of other treasures and jewelry. He leaves her alone with all of the stuff while he goes to phone the justice of the peace, because this marriage is going forward even if they’ve known each other for less than two hours! This is why no one will date you, Len.

Instead of calling the Justice of the Peace, Len accidentally calls Mick instead. “By the Aurora Borealis--I know that voice! I absent-mindedly dialed Heat Wave’s number--instead of the Justice of the Peace!”

Cold invites Heat Wave over to his hideout so he can show him the defeated Flash (and also have him be the best man at his wedding to a woman who’s forty years older than him who he’s known for two hours).

However, when Mick arrives and Cold shows him the defeated Flash, Mick totally freaks out for some reason (I guess because he won’t get to have his last fight with the Flash) and blasts the frozen Flash pieces with his heat gun. Somehow, this undoes whatever Cold’s below absolute zero gun did to the Flash, and Flash goes back to normal.

Captain Cold and Heat Wave get into a brief scuffle over who’ll get to kill the Flash the second time, and then Barry knocks them both out and takes them to the police.

The issue ends with Barry and Iris discussing the case. Iris says that Laura told her that she hadn’t wanted Cold to make her young again; aging had been too painful for her the first time. Therefore, she’s just going to put on a wig and makeup and pretend to be old until she actually is old again. This seems like a potentially interesting bit of characterization; it’s too bad Laura didn’t get very much focus in the rest of the issue.

After Iris tells Barry about what happened to Laura, Barry tells Iris that the reason Captain Cold called Heat Wave instead of the Justice of the Peace was because he managed to use telepathy to make sure that it would happen. So yeah, apparently Barry has telepathic powers that he never uses again.

In speaking of things that never appear again, what happened to the Cold Gun’s ability to make people young? Why did Cold never use that again, especially once he himself started getting older?

And what happened to the de-aged criminals? Did they stay young, or do the effects eventually fade off?

I have so many questions about this issue. It’s an entertaining story overall, but there are just so many questions that never get answered and so many powers that never get brought up again.

It’s also a pity Laura Lamont never appeared again. She and Ayesha, the Maharanee of Joadpur (from Flash #150) are easily the most interesting of Len’s non-Iris stalkee-girlfriends.

#flash rogues #captain cold #heat wave #the flash #barry allen #iris allen #flash comics

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sevenkittensinatrenchcoat · 3 years

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Cast Interviews From 1986 vs. 2016

So, I’ve found a podcast that’s been interviewing various Cats cast members and superfans. Most of the interviews come from the cast of the Broadway Revival, but there are also several interviews from US Tour III which went from 1986 to 1988. So we’ve got a bit of both old and new. Here’s what I’ve learned about how things have changed over the years and why the Broadway Revival is such a confused mess:

In the interviews of US Tour III cast members, it seemed like everyone was told the story of the play and had a pretty clear idea of what was going on. Some actors were given backstories for their characters, but the amount of detail varied. Actors cast as Munkustrap and Tugger were told that their characters were brothers and the sons of Old Deuteronomy. Actors cast as Demeter were given a full backstory for the character. However, Grizabella’s story remained vague. Bombalurina, Mistoffelees, and Sillabub also had no confirmed backstories, and most of their characters were improvised during rehearsals. Also, since this tour was from 1986-1988, a lot of cast members don’t remember a lot of what they were told. It’s been a while.

Out of the backstory and character information provided, Demeter’s was the most consistent. She was kidnapped by Macavity, escaping shortly before the events of the play. She’s an outsider to the tribe, but she knows Bombalurina and stays close to her. Bombalurina also had some experience with Macavity, but she enjoyed it more than Demeter did. This lines up with what Jacob Brent said about Demeter in the 1998 version.

Some character dynamics are different from more modern versions. Alonzo is Demeter’s love interest, as was typical with Broadway-based productions. Also, in most productions, Alonzo doesn’t get along with Tugger, but he’s a fan of him in this version.

Outside of Alonzo, it was made perfectly clear that Mistoffelees was played as a full adult, the same age as Munkustrap. The actor who played him throughout the tour, Randy Slovacek seemed to have made up most of Misto’s characterization in that production by himself. Misto was friends with Grizabella in the past and wasn’t upset by whatever she did to upset the others. When she first appears, Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer, taking the place of Coricopat and Tantomile, who were cut for the tour, run up to her and try to chase her away. Misto calls them off, but Munkustrap won’t let him do anything else to help her and he respects his authority too much to try anything.

The interviews of the Broadway Revival cast tell a very different story of what was going on behind the scenes. Apparently, they were rushed for time and there weren’t as many rehearsals before the show as there usually are. That, combined with the new choreography meant that nobody really knew what they were doing. Munkustrap and Tugger were confirmed to be siblings, but very little backstory information was given outside of that. The few cast members who worked with Gillian Lynne seemed to have a better idea of what was going on with their characters. Andy Blankenbuehler was still figuring things out and wasn’t able to offer similar clarity. The few times anyone was told anything, it was usually by Trevor Nunn.

Basically, Nunn and Lynne invented Cats, and nobody else seems to know how the fuck any of it works.

Tyler Hanes and Sara Jean Ford knew each other before being cast and they came up with a lot of backstory for their characters, which everyone else got drawn into. Ford played Jellylorum as the same age as Tugger. Since the actors are best friends, so are the characters, even though that makes little sense with their personalities. Jennyanydots, Bombalurina, Demeter, and Grizabella were in that same age range as well. It appears that nobody was anywhere between Munkustrap and Old Deuteronomy in age, for some reason. Jenny and Skimble are a couple in this version, so Skimble’s probably also in this group. They have kittens together. Electra and Rumpleteazer are among them, though nothing was said about Mungojerrie. The merge with Coricopat and Tantomile in the US Tour implies that they’re twins in that version. In the Broadway Revival and the tour based on it, they’re apparently unrelated.

Grizabella ended up with a far more detailed backstory, all made up by the cast. She’s Jellylorum’s sister and she stole a man away from her and Jelly never loved again. None of the kittens are Jelly’s, though she’s sort of the nanny to all of them. Griz also had some sort of affair with Tugger and broke his heart, which is why he doesn’t do commitment. Then, Griz ran off with Macavity, got dumped for Bombalurina, and then she got dumped for Demeter who decided that Macavity was bad news pretty early on and ditched him. The relationship was abusive, but no one mentioned a kidnapping. After leaving Macavity, Griz was no longer welcome in the tribe, even though Bomba and Demeter were because Reasons. Forgetting that these characters are not human, she then got addicted to drugs, was driven to prostitution to support her drug habit, had a bunch of kids, and then left those kids to be raised by Jenny, who resents her for it. Nobody says which kittens are Grizabella’s. Portions of this backstory were used in the 2019 movie.

Also, I can say that some of the characterization issues with Tugger were, in fact, a direct result of the choreography changes. Tyler Hanes wanted to play up the sexuality of the character in a way that the new choreography didn’t allow. If Gillian Lynne’s choreography had been used for the number, Tugger’s characterization probably would’ve turned out very different, but the changes meant that what Hanes knew about the character, and how the audience perceived the character, were altered by the new choreography putting emphasis on vanity instead of sexuality.

So, that’s the story so far. Compared to at least one early production, the Broadway Revival was rushed and poorly thought out. The actors were given little information and left to fend for themselves, and they prioritized their bonds with their irl friends over what made sense for their characters. Interviews of cast members from both the revival and the following tour reference Andy Blankenbuehler as the one who had all the information, who the cast looked to for instructions. But, he had no idea what he was doing and couldn’t really help them.

Most of the problems can be traced to Blankenbuehler not knowing what he was doing and never really figuring it out. Though, some blame has to be placed on the cast who, left to their own devices, had a lot of bad ideas. Hanes and Ford in particular, though it was good that someone was trying to take charge, created a bit of a mess. None of Jellylorum’s character resembles any other Jellylorum characterization I’ve ever seen, and it doesn’t even come across clearly on stage. The young cast all seemed to struggle with the idea of playing older characters and nobody told them that they couldn’t age them down. The generation gap between Tugger and Jenny and Jelly is character information that’s now completely lost on the audience. You need older characters disapproving of Tugger to show that he’s a controversial figure to the tribe, not just an annoyance to Munkustrap.

But, some of the worst characterization problems were not entirely the fault of the cast. As I mentioned before, Tugger’s characterization was changed by the choreography. Grizabella had already been aged down by her redesign. Since Demeter’s kidnapping backstory wasn’t explained, this affected how Demeter was portrayed. Her sympathy for Grizabella came from having been on that side of town as Macavity’s prisoner and seeing the condition she was in. Without that backstory, Kim Faure may have not known that Demeter was supposed to have sympathy for Grizabella and interpreted her part differently. This was the result of unclear direction.

What We’ve Learned Today:

1. In the 1980s, Mistoffelees was, in fact, played as older than Jacob Brent played him in the VHS.

2. Munkustrap and Tugger (and not Mistoffelees) have pretty much always been the sons of Old Deuteronomy.

3. The backstory Jacob Brent gave for Demeter was the standard backstory for the character well before the VHS was filmed.

4. Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer were considered twins in the 1980s and most likely continued to be seen as such until the revival era, though I haven’t exactly checked in with every single production.

5. The Broadway Revival was a behind the scenes and nightmare and it’s mostly Blankenbuehler’s fault.

6. Gillian Lynne wrote Cats. Andrew Lloyd Webber wrote a concept album.

7. There are no middle-aged cats in the 2016 revival. I think Sara Jean Ford started it.

8. The idea that Grizabella’s backstory involved Macavity started with the 2016 cast improvising.

9. Kim Faure’s Demeter was most likely OOC due to a removal or lack of explanation of backstory.

10. Sometimes it’s okay to do things the same way they’ve been done before.

#cats tour iii #cats 2016 #andy blankenbuehler is bad at cats #i hate being mean to the 2016 cast #but theatre is a team sport #and most mistakes are made by the team #rum tum tugger #tyler hanes #who i like but also blame #sara jean ford #who is in the same boat as hanes #though i'm admittedly very picky about jellylorum portrayals #kim faure #she tried her best #but basically #gillian lynne #was what made cats a hit #and nobody knows what they're doing without her

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starshipsofstarlord · 3 years

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Fame With No Shame | Part Three

A/N; I think at most there will be one more part to this series, and that will be the reveal of Luke and the readers relationship to the public. Thankyou for all of the requests for this series, please enjoy xx

Summary; in the midst of an interview, there is talk of (Y/N) dating a member. The interviewer is keen to find who is the lucky gentleman within their ranks, but can Luke remain steady though the enquiries about his girl?

Brushing his hands down his black clothed legs, Luke sat upon the seat, eyes interpreting his composure. His face was slightly flushed, aware that his hair was a bouquet of messy curls, the state of his redress had not gone unnoticed by the hostess nor his curious band members. All were wondering of whom he had hassled sexually with before this set, but nothing was mentioned, at least not yet.

A small part of him wanted to let the world know of his relationship status, and more importantly, whom he was entangled with. But it would all be released in due time, he would just have to remain both vigilant of letting anything slip and patient. The rumours could manage to infuriate and humour him all at once, so many fans had claimed to know the identity of the woman in his life.

There were many suspicions, although they were only proven by the hope and dedication of all kinds of people on sites such as tumblr and wattpad, that his lover that was concealed to their eyes was not a lady at all. It was perceived that it was a bandmate; a dear friend of his, that he was sleeping and taking midnight strolls with.

That of course was not the truth, the shipping had been dragging on for years, he sometimes wished that the guesses could be correct all by their own. (Y/N) however was amused by how much it infuriated him, and all of his frustrations would dissipate at the sound of her glorious laugh, and in the end, all that was left was for him to join in and relax.

Things between them were certainly going good, to say the least. He had never felt so elated to see someone pour themselves a mug of coffee, or tie their shoelaces. It wasn’t hard, and hadn’t been difficult for him to admit the facts – he was in love. If there was any evidence that they existed, he was sure that he had found his soulmate.

She understood not only his emotions, but his springs of motivation, the ideas that would creep in the middle of the night or whilst he was in the bathroom for songs. His process was normal to her, because she experienced the same waves of inspiration, the urge to write what flowed to mind and execute lyrics until they were sure enough ready and sounded right to be released to the rest of the world.

And together, that was like the universe had combined the two creators for a reason, to make a beautiful sound, an eternal symphony that would play on forever and a day. If people knew about them, it could disturb the state of their peace, the security that they found within their relationship. And that would be the most tragic and morbid interference that either of them could ever experience.

Hate online was strong, and (Y/N) suspected that neither of them were prepared to take the mixed responses to their newfound and blooming romance. Each of them individually received the expressions of resenting opinions, through messages, through posts, through the loop of the internet. It was never ending, the trolls were headstrong and stubborn, they didn’t want to be stopped, and any reply that they got in turn only made their day, encouraging them to cackle away at the fact that they drew a celebrity’s attention and time away from more important matters.

“And we’re live.” The hostess of the radio show confirmed, settling more comfortably into her plush, swivel seat, as she set her digging eyes into the men that were seated around the platform of a small, recorded station. “My name is Heidi, and we are here on HotRadio, with the one, the only, Five Seconds of Summer.”

Luke adjusted his headset, leaning closer to the microphone so that he was close enough to allow his reviews and answers be heard better than when he was reclined back, awaiting the start of the recording. “So now tell me boys, how was it working with (Y/N) (L/N) for your new single, Flashes.” He gulped at the mention of her name, this wasn’t the best situation, considering that he could accidentally allow some classified information slip, and spiral through the channels of the web.

“She was amazing!” Michael blazed in with his initial impression of her, a jolly grin spread across his lips and chin. “We’ve been fans of her work for so long, it was a dream to finally work with her.” His hands waved as he spoke, confirming his excitement, although working with (Y/N) had already been and gone.

“Yeah.” Ashton bobbed his head, agreeing with his friend. “She is such a talented woman, we don’t do many collaborations singing with other people, but all four of us can definitely admit that she was such a great sport. She put so much work into the song, from lyrics and notes, there is a bright future ahead of her.”

The boys speaking of her made Luke want to purposely trip in his secrecy, they had no expense from gushing over her in such an idealistic way. However if he were to join in, he’d risk the exposure of the relationship. (Y/N) would be mad at him if he were to do that, so he rubbed his chin, feeling the growing prickles of stubble against his guitar picked hands.

Heidi smiled, they were eager to tell her their what appeared to be honest opinion. Yet there were still more details that she and the fans sought; answers. There were so many questions that were lingering, waiting to be spoken aloud in the recorded air.

“Was there any romance sparked between one of you and (Y/N)? How about you Calum?” It was typical, the enquiries about the song itself, that was supposed to be the main attention of this interview , it wasn’t about love, or feelings or whatever.

The thought that Calum, out of all of them, was the one considered to have gained her affections made Luke bite the inside of his cheek. Sure, Calum was single, but so was he, or at least was in the media’s eyes, and before he met (Y/N).

Luke’s frown was subtle, but it was still there! And everyone was oblivious to his disconcerting expression, all because the spotlight shined on the bassist, and the idea that he, out of all them, was privileged enough to have possibly shared a bed or the exchange of numbers in the static noise of the track.

Cal cleared his throat, ruffling the collar of his shirt, as though there were a reason for him to be fanning himself. “I mean, I’m not one to disclose that personal information.” That son of a bitch, Luke thought. From his response, something had obviously occurred, it was too bland for an answer.

That was until said boy began to laugh, spewing a humoured chuckle from his mouth whilst looking Luke dead in the eyes. The opposing man could only frown, his face hardened by the strong crease that went down the centre of it.

“Too bad she already has a boyfriend.” Michael chipped in, the guitarist’s attitude and statement not only making Luke paranoid, but also worried. What if he were not the only one that had grabbed the affections of (Y/N)?

To begin with, it was clear that she was a bit of a player, and he had no problem with it, there was nothing wrong at all with a woman embracing her sexuality, it was even kind of sexy. But now they were partners in a relationship, and he could only trust her to be faithful.

Mikey’s words had not only drawn the intrigue of the lead singer, but also Heidi, who was leant forward in her seat, the dimples in her face prominent as she was presenting glee from hearing first time news, that was broadcasting on her radio channel.

“Are we permitted to be told who the lucky gentleman is?” How she hoped that the revelation would be unconcealed during this very interview, personally the woman was curious herself, but also the thought of the views skyrocketing encouraged her desperation for an answer.

Ash smirked, his eyes fluttering through his trio of bandmates, this was certainly entertaining for the rest of them also. Except one from the looks of it, Luke was gnawing on the outer portion of his lip. This was getting to him, just as they wanted. They knew, all along, what was occurring between Luke and the talented lady.

She had been a crush of his for a long time, and it seemed that she shared that affliction of interests, by being attracted to the natural blonde himself. It was noticeable to the boys from the first time that (Y/N) had entered the studio, their eyes navigated to the sight of the other, and their attention had to be drawn for the pair to look away from one another.

“One of us.” The eldest member replied, and Luke realised that in that moment, he had not been as discreet with the entire dating ordeal as he thought he had. They’d quickly realised that there were strings attached when Luke began to miss their nights out clubbing, and said he’d prefer to stay in and watch a movie – alone.

However, it was not a solitary activity, and binging television was not all that the promiscuous man was partaking in. The symptoms that brought light and revelation to Luke and (Y/N)’s involvement was matching marks of red suction bites around the circumferences of their throats, that eventually healed and could be concealed, however the boys could see right through their efforts.

And then there was the undebatable evidence of smeared lipstick scorned across their lips, a shade which consisted perfectly against one another, from nudes to striking reds, the pigment that streaked against Luke’s vigorously hungry lips consisted to be suspiciously similar to the original prominence that was lined and filled on (Y/N)’s own petalled mouth.

“Oh.” It appeared that the prying interviewer had not even put any efforts into hiding her pleasantly condemned grin, every detail that was slipping through the teeth of the men gave her some kind of joy.

She had somehow hit a gold mine with the answers that her pay check curiosity had earned her. There was so much going on behind the scenes that had never been revealed, and it seemed that all would be exposed, on HotRadio! “Are we granted to know which one of you is the lucky man?”

Luke shifted in his chair, gripping onto the arms with his painted nails. He was prepared to hit rock bottom in this deep deep ocean that he had swam himself into, yet a snicker left Cal, bringing all afraid and all too alert attention to him.

“I think not, we can keep a secret for a little longer.” His eyes paced slyly over to Luke, sending him an all knowing wink.

He sighed, he lived to fight another day.

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ascottywrites · 3 years

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Digging Deep in the Hat

...and going back in time to one of the first ships I ever sailed on, and no matter how long ago that was *cough* at least 15 years *cough* it seems to have picked up steam once again.

Funny how things go full circle.

Back to that Dramione life!!

**with an emphasis on the Ron Weasley Bashing element. (Just like I live for bad friend Scott McCall, I live for this and honestly, the way Ron is portrayed in the movies how could you not see some of this happening?)

The Peacock & The Otter by CarrieMaxwell (WIP: 67/? | 363,107) Ao3 Rated Teen and Up

Draco's always been drawn to Hermione in some way, he has for years and can't explain. It'd be easier if he could just get a moment alone with her to see why, but she's never alone! At the Yule Ball, Draco finally has a moment with Hermione and they share that time coming to a "truce". A battle of brains starts between the two as they form a friendly rivalry to excel in their classes. What started as a "make Weasley jealous" game becomes something more, quickly, and with far reaching consequences. With Harry's Triwizard Tournament taking much of the spotlight, and Hermione acting strangely with Malfoy, Ron's jealousy starts manifesting in ugly ways, until it causes a break in school tradition so shocking that people will speak of it for ages to come.

A story where Draco finds his redemption at the pivotal moment, deciding that helping keep Harry alive to prevent the resurrection of Voldemort is more important than bitter school rivalries.

The Silvery Light of the Amber Moon by Ghastly_lemons (WIP: 15/? | 46,948) Ao3 Rated M

Draco Malfoy has had a hard few years, forcing him to rethink a great deal about what he believed. One night when his father comes to him to celebrate what he sees as a wonderful plan, Draco realises that he has no time at all to stop it.

Patronus by TaraHarkon (Complete: one-shot | 1,399) Ao3 Rated G

"It is the decision of the Wizengamot that the truest test of a dark wizard is their inability to produce a patronus. As such, should Draco Malfoy be able to produce a patronus despite bearing the Dark Mark, he will be allowed to go free. The Wizengamot recognizes that this is a difficult spell and he will be permitted a year’s time to practice."

With that court decision, Hermione sets about helping Draco on the path to freedom and to the future.

The Quidditch Bet by Rumaan (Complete: one-shot | 7,116) Ao3 Rated G

Ron's desire for Malfoy's new Firebolt II leads him to make a silly and very damaging bet. How will Hermione react when she finds out? And just how is Malfoy going to use this to his advantage?

Bite First, Ask Questions Later by Daredevilsinthedetails, Kaylessi (Complete: 17/17 | 69,876) Ao3 Rated E

Their world was at a boiling point. Currently, 25% of the magical world consisted of born Alphas and not a single new English Omega had presented since Halloween of 1981. Aggression, possessive behavior, and battles for dominance between the Alphas were making magical Britain a relative warzone. A laundry list of nefarious deeds by one deemed to be light and the cure to all of their problems resting on the shoulders of three unsuspecting students…what could go wrong?

Disclaimer - obviously, we do not own any of the recognizable JK Rowling characters.

Cursing the Unforgivables by verdeveritas (WIP: 19/? | 114,215) Ao3 Rated M

Hermione Granger has been manhandled by a Devil's Snare, petrified, and has cleared the name of the escapee Sirius Black. After the death of her parents, she decides to take matters into her own hands. *Story begins after TPoA. This work belongs to JKR, and I don't get paid to write this.

The Deal by Scorpia11 (WIP: 30/? | 194,065) Ao3 Rated E

Hermione Granger is in over her head with debt, divorced from Ron Weasley & having obtained majority custody of their daughter she is in desperate need of a loan to avoid court & possible imprisonment. With nowhere left to turn she approaches Draco Malfoy with a contract in hand pleading for his help...which he happily gives for a price. EWE, Post Hogwarts, HEA, R&R. Warning Inside

I Left it Wet for You by dirtymudblood (Complete: 2/2 | 4,384) Ao3 Rated E

"I just don't understand. Why… why Malfoy?" She was scrubbing the dishes in front of her the muggle way, a habit she did when she was nervous, uncomfortable, or angry. And now, with her fiancé red in the face and not meeting her eye, she was all three. "He's…" From her peripheral she watched him run a shaking hand through his hair. "He's just everything I'm not. Everything I've always wanted to be."

Her Beauty and the Moonlight by BrilliantLady (Complete: 11/11 | 37,484) Ao3 Rated E

When Harry helps Hermione find out the horrible truth - that Ron has been dosing her with love potions - she is furious. She is going to get her revenge on Ron in the most hurtful way she can think of – dating the one man he hates above all others.

*This is actually part 2 in the series. Part 1 is great as well but it centers on a different couple. So...there we are.

The List by AureliaBlack90 (Complete: 10/10 | 70,526) Ao3 Rated E

After her divorce, Hermione decides to get out of town to recover from the pain of her lost relationship and the miscarriage she suffered a year previously. She arrives in the Cotswolds depressed and aimless but compiles a list of things to do that she hopes will help her get back on her feet. In the midst of her journey to find healing she keeps running into Draco Malfoy, who is nothing like she remembered him. He invites her into his world, and Hermione finds exactly what she was looking for - in the place she least expected it.

Shifts by LumosLyra (Complete: 7/7 | 57,893) Ao3 Rated M

After a particularly nasty fight with Ron, Hermione ends up shacking up with the three returning eighth year Slytherins where she finds herself inexplicably tangled up in the affections of two wizards. “Theo grasped Draco’s hand as the two of them watched her closely before Draco spoke to her in a calm, gentle voice. “You live with us now, Granger. Do you understand?”

*I couldn’t not leave this Tom Felton gif here...I mean...who can blame me? I could look at this on a regular basis.

#dramione #draco malfoy #hermione granger #draco x hermione #harry potter #fanfiction #fanfic #ficrec #10/10 would reccomend #ron weasley bashing #romance #rec list #recommendations #swoony #ao3 #kid fic #scorpius malfoy #granger x malfoy

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bubblyani · 3 years

Text

Bloom

(Rick x Reader)

A Rick (Knight of Cups) One Shot

Movie: Knight of Cups (2015) Terrence Malick

Summary: When he pays a visit one fine morning, you realize the immense effect Rick has on your mind, body and soul.

Word Count: 2000+

Rating: Mature

Warning: Sexual Content

Author’s Note: Rick was a visual treat in this movie, thanks to Christian Bale. And thirsting for this character led to another One Shot. Tried to give the writing an aesthetic feeling more than last time. A tribute to Terrence Malick’s style, I suppose. Did my best. But also with some added fan girl frustration *wink* Enjoy y’all!

You’re regretting it now, aren’t you? Coming to see me?

Your heart was aware of your smug query. A sense of smug, that stemmed from the confidence of your words. A sense of smug, that unfortunately was stained by an obvious sadness. The type of stain that refused to be rinsed off. An obvious sadness, for you meant every word.

With your knees locked in an embrace, there you sat on the edge of the bed. Your eyes succeeded in finally freeing themselves from the tempting grasps of the polished wooden floors. They moved up in slow motion, to fill oneself by the breathtaking sight of him. Leaning against the Bedroom door, Rick gently shook his head in a mild manner. As if a frantic response was nearly impossible. And truthfully, that would not have suited him:

I couldn’t stop.

Raising one’s eyebrows, you felt your head tilt to the side:

Stop what?

You swore your eyes were expert enough to trace a soft smile form in that angelic face of his:

Thinking about you.

His words so breathless, tickled your ears long enough, that butterflies began to flutter within you. So breathless, you despised the mere thought of losing them to the wind. His gaze managed to pierce through the distance, resulting in the subtle blushes of your cheeks. Simply put, You were gluttonous for his words. More important, you were gluttonous for him.

However, never did you display it. How could you, when imaginative dark clouds of despair reigned over you with such weight?

Shaking your head, you smiled bowing it down:

Heh…you’re crazy.

Your pointed feet reached the floor with control and grace, feeling the chill in the morning greet your skin. And the very moment you did, the floor urged him to take careful steps towards you. Barefoot and quiet:

Maybe I am…for you

Goosebumps resulted in your skin, and you blamed his seductive poetic soul. Keeping one’s head down, your eyes stealthily watched him approach you. With your pulse quickening all of the sudden, you were tempted to conceal it all. Conceal those lines in your face that nature had bestowed upon you. Conceal the skin your mother had gifted you. Conceal the imperfection that you yourself had stowed away with such expertise, from the entire world. Undoubtedly, the flame of insecurity was certainly strong and burning bright at that very moment.

Until it was extinguished, by the his mere touch.

Shaky breaths exited your lips as his hand rested on your head, his long fingers digging into your hair with the sole intention of intimacy with your scalp. Your eyelids fluttered frantically, for you were intoxicated, you were spellbound. The manner in which his fingers made contact with your scalp, some would even wonder if they were lovers in secret. For his fingers, they treated it as if it was the most precious, awakening your entire body in every possible manner. Gathering courage, you looked up to find the man who rejuvenated your senses.

With his beautiful, chiseled frame adorned with a long sleeved black v-neck top and pants, Rick was nothing short of a refreshed, visual pleasure. While the satin negligee still lingered in your frame, with messy bed hair and smudged eyeliner as the shameful accompanists. Empty bottles of wine and spilled bottles of pills occupied the bedside cupboard. Already 11 in the morning, and you were nothing short of a mess.

This…this is me. This is who I really am.

Your eyes enunciated every word, gazing directly into his very own. Truth was inevitable to escape your soul, when you were staring at divinity. The sunlight streamed through the white curtains, illuminating his frame, for he was a god. A deity who descended into earth, robbing himself of time, just for you: A withered flower.

You never hid that.

Rick’s eyes shone, warm as the sunlight on a winter’s morn.

Never with me.

And before you could protest, a gust of wind swept you away. The wind that were his loving arms, pulling you up with ease. Permitting your body to press against his, you felt his lips unite yours in a gentle kiss.

You first ever knew of Rick’s existence not too long ago. More specifically when your eyes met from across the room, at a party one Summer’s Eve. And it certainly did not seem like sweet coincidence, especially in the comfort of a Billionaire’s Mansion in Los Angeles. Truthfully, it would seem eventual, for all knew all in entertainment. As the distance between the two of you grew smaller, his curiosity was made well known to you. A curiosity, which was satisfied the very moment an onlooker of a musician hurriedly played your latest music video on his phone, posing the question to Rick with disbelief:

“Don’t you know who she is?”

“Dude, Rick’s a legend. Doesn’t she know who HE is?”

In all fairness, a smile could have graced your lips upon glancing at this handsome stranger, in the midst of the queries from the onlookers around. You could have acknowledged the dilation of his pupils, by showing him your very own. You could have made very clear of your own growing curiosity about him. But you did not. For you were weary, in mind, body and soul.

Live Shows, Recordings, Photo shoots and Press Junkets. In the midst of them all, you were just a name, a mere symbol of profit milked by all those around you. Blinded by power, it seemed none of them were aware of the husk they leave behind when the day was done. The husk of a young woman, left to mend herself back in her lonesome. The young woman swept away by the tornado of fame with such speed, she lost her sense of purpose that existed in the very beginning.

Until his curious kiss that night, urged you to engage in a rediscovery.

You never hid that. Never with me

He was right. With him, you were always yourself: unapologetically. Without question.

His kisses were consistent. They were the sips of water the dry throat craved for days. His lips were the hands that held on to you with care, guiding you sensually to form your own Rumba. And this morning, with the sunlight streaming over your own head, and with your hands wrapped around his neck, you were bestowed with a rush of pure exuberance. In simpler terms, you were alive.

Possessed with life, your movements suddenly were the epitome of energy and speed. You pushed him away, giggles causing your voice to crack as you leaped to the bed. And for Rick, it was simply an invitation to join you in a game of catch. A game that will be won without hesitation. And he did, gripping you by the ankle, only to pull you back to him as you fell on the mattress. Squeals vanished the moment you found his figure hovering over, leaving you breathless. And all the sudden, exuberance morphed into tranquility, for you were transfixed, hypnotized. For he was responsible.

With the blink of an eye, you found his face inches away from yours. When breathing were finally in syncopation, the world seemed to stand still. The soft brunette hair that framed his face, dared to tickle your cheeks as his lips were drawn in to yours with a magnetic force. However, he defied nature’s law, by pulling away in tease. Just when they were millimeters close. Frustration was evident in your stomach, that your eyes began to display it without a shred of embarrassment.

But he caught you by surprise, as his accentuated nose brushed against your forehead.

You’re beautiful.

Shivers managed to appear, for those words never failed to move you. Taking the role of painter, he moved downwards in sweet torture, awakening every inch of your face: Your closed eyelids, your own nose, your burning cheeks, and under appreciated chin. Your lips yet, were discriminated.

Parting them with frustration, you stared at the ceiling with desperation as his torture continued south. Shaky breaths were incited, when his nose made contact with your bare neck. Even more so when he mindlessly painted your body with desire, crossing the borders through the collarbone.

Butterflies fluttered as the tip of his nose made strategic, temporary stops over your mountainous geography. Two erect peaks formed through the satin plains on either sides once he wandered over your heaving bosom with leisure. Nether muscles tightened, resulting in moans of the softest nature. Throwing your head back, you winced and gasped when he pulled your negligee up, permitting his brush to paint over the exposed stomach. If your body was awakened before, now it was slowly being lit up in flames. A slow burn, to be precise.

You’re intoxicating

Moans grew loud and unabashed, when he had the audacity to reach down your thighs.

I want you.

Putting his brush of a nose aside, he began to play Aesthete. And it was evident he did, the moment his lips attacked your inner thighs with gentle kisses.

Mine.

Leaving your thighs burning, he kept his gaze affixed while his fingers urged your lace panties to part from your legs, opening the door that deemed most secretive. His intentions were made aware. And feeling the growth under his pants with your foot, you could not help but agree. Especially when your legs locked around his waist in a hurry. However, you were surprised even further when he switched positions in a heartbeat, allowing you to straddle him in return.

All of you. All mine.

His eyes, they burned. His words, they haunted. His hands, they were impatient. Not to undress himself, but to hold onto your own hands instead. Pulse quickening, your mind was full of queries as he pulled you closer.

And closer, past his stomach. And closer, past his chest.

The very moment he gave a final tug, realization washed over you. For you knew how exactly Rick, the wanderer, the observer, the adventurer wanted you. Right to the exact detail. Licking ones lips, you shuddered as you lifted yourself up:

Then want me. Please.

Your plea was sudden, desperate, yet there were no regrets. Desirous need was all that was filled in you, when you sank yourself low, when you sank yourself slow, to have his ethereal face welcome the region right between your quivering thighs. To have his hungry lips finally taste the mere essence of your being.

You gasped, out loud. The simplest brush of his lips, his facial hair were simply triggers, akin to a centralized button that set off a theme park a lit. And like in a theme park, you were on a ride of a lifetime.

Want me, like you never wanted anyone.

Keeping your balance with your knees firmly rooted on the soft white sheets, you rolled your hips. You rolled them in steady rhythm. Back and forth. All the while you felt his nose rub against your moist opening, and while his generous mouth proved his hunger for you. And he was not the one to waste any time.

Want me, as if your life depended on it.

You rolled, you rode. Holding on to your own hair, you were possessed with such greed, you knew you would go mad. Mad with ecstasy. For his lips were divine. His kisses translated to hunger in abundance. His tongue, did not fail to fall behind. If his nose played the artist, then his tongue played the writer, versatile enough to weave his own love notes in poetic form in the inner most intimate centre of your glorious body. His words roused you, till your moans were melodic and repetitive.

Want me, as if you love me.

With your pleas, your arms extended involuntarily. A shadow, caught your attention, as your eyes moved towards the bedside. It appeared so flexible, so lively. It was yours. As you kept glancing at it writhing in pleasure, in the midst of your moans and his, the realization was clear as the morning itself. No sign of exhaustion, nor any sign of hopelessness. A smile was all your face could provide you, and empowerment was all your heart could afford.

The withering in you had vanished. Your heart had no trace. For Rick, he was the sunshine, and hydration incarnate. For he was the nourishment. Your nourishment. And thus you, a once withered flower, now finally bloomed in full.

——————————————————

Tagged: @tammykelly @ladyerina @kittenlittle24 @everyday-imfangirling @lucy-roo @works-of-fanfiction @bale-is-a-babe @badsext @maddistyles17 @truly-insatiable @gooseyhouse @artsymaddie @quarterback-5 @mamooska8 @jensen-impala @lilyofthesword @woodencupcake @fonduebitches @soullesstaco @spicybellinger @marvel-lously @glitterypinkkitty @danceyreagan @barikawho @lostgirl0020 @diogodxlot @xxdearlybeloved @shewearsprada @lexiespeaks @misterlords-fics @readingslumpfanfic

Once again, lemme know if you wanna get tagged. And those who only want to be tagged for specific Bale characters, please do let me know. I didn’t take out those who didn’t tell me just in case. But feel free to let me know, i totally understand.

Check My MASTERLIST for More :)

#Christian Bale #Knight of Cups #knight of cups 2015 #terrence malick #Rick #Rick x Reader #Knight of Cups Fanfiction #Christian Bale Characters #Aesthetic #Aesthetic smut #knight of cups imagines #christian bale imagines #bruce wayne #batman begins #tdk #the dark knight #the dark knight rises

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tbtssstuff · 4 years

Text

Blood Lust || kth

Summary: With a killer clown on the loose, you worry about your boyfriend’s late night job. A job you knew he had, but didn’t know the details of what he did or where it was. Or you didn’t until the night you heard screaming from the basement.

Pairing: Killer Clown!Taehyung x Reader

Genre: Smut, Horror

Word Count: 2.4k (I didn’t intend for it to get this long, but it did)

I have no idea how to add the warnings without giving things away, but let’s try.

Warnings: Blood, graphic acts of torture, dry humping, biting, blood play, character death, fingering, shit gets crazy, a lot of inflicting and receiving pain,Tae and the reader are sadomasochists and psychopaths

Masterlist

AN: Buckle up kids! This gets dark and nasty. Please read the warnings before you continue because when I say shit gets crazy, it GETS crazy. Thank you to @ahoeforblackvelvet for requesting this! I hope it’s alright! I decided to go all out for this because I’ve never written anything like this before.

-TJ/ TacoAdmin 🌮

The cold wind blew the leaves through the woods. The moon high in the sky barley illuminated the trail and other than the crunching of leaves, there was no sound. The ominous feeling you got grew stronger and stronger, almost as if something was coming.

Your heart stills when you hear a twig snap somewhere nearby. Being as still as you could be, you listen closely, hoping nothing else was there, but then your hear footsteps getting closer and closer until they were on top of you.

“Y/n.”

You scream, throwing your popcorn in the air as Taehyung, your loving boyfriend, placed his hand on your shoulder at the worst possible time.

“Damn it Tae! You know you can’t do that!” You place your hand over your racing heart, hoping to regulate it again while Taehyung laughs at you.

He knows you love horror movies and always told him that ‘if you were going to watch one it better be at night in the dark’, so he found it funny when he could easily scare you like this. You looked really cute when you were scared.

Taehyung rounded the couch to sit beside you before throwing his arm over your shoulder and pulling you close. You could smell the fresh soap on his body, but there was some time of metal smell on his clothes. Must be from his mysterious night time job that he never talked about.

Since it was almost ten pm you knew he had to leave soon, but that wouldn’t stop you from trying to plead with him to stay. There have been so many men that have gone missing lately, only to be found two weeks later brutally mutilated and you were scared that Taehyung would be next.

The police have been trying for almost half a year to find this killer. He was completely random or at least that’s what you gathered from the news. There were only two things that were consistent; all the victims were males, under 25, and they all had a red balloon tied somewhere on their dead body.

People started calling him a couple different names. Pennywise and Bozo The Clown were the most popular options, but your personal favorite had to be Killer Clown. Just simple and to the point.

You tried to think of ways to get him to call in sick, something he absolutely never did, smiling as the perfect idea popped into your head, the familiar warmth spreads through you just thinking about it.

You pull back from Taehyung and swing your legs so that you were straddling him, wrapping your arms around his neck to play with his silver locks.

“Tae~” You coo, kissing your way down his jaw, grinding your hips down to meet his, reveling in the way he groans at the fiction, tilting his head to expose more of his neck for you. You tongue your way down his neck before biting down. Taehyung moans, his hands slipping to grab your butt as he thrusts his hips into yours.

Taehyung had always been a bit of a sadomasochist, loving inflicting pain on you, but loving the pain you gave him right back.

As if he knew your alternative motive, Taehyung lifted you off his lap, placing you beside him with a huff. You pout, more upset with the abrupt stop than you are that he found out your plan. Sex with you was always his weakness so of course you would use it to keep him home. Taehyung knew about your worries, but he had to get to work.

“Y/n you can’t stop me. I have to go.” Taehyung smiles as you whine, leaning down to steal a quick kiss from your lips before heading to the door. “Don’t worry about me alright? Nothing is ever going to kill me. Don’t wait up okay? You need your beauty sleep.” Taehyung winks at you, opening the door and finally leaving for work.

You sigh and reach for your phone. There was a text from your friend Jimin.

After you turned off the TV and made sure all the doors were locked, you made your way to the stairs, passing the basement door on the way. You never had to make sure the basement door was locked because it was always locked.

Taehyung always kept it that way and when you asked why he had just told you that you didn't need to go down there. All he kept was his tools in the basement and you accepted it just like that. Though it did make you curious sometimes. Just what kind of tools did he have down there?

You shrugged, not really trying to deal with it tonight, but before you walked away you heard a faint yelling. It sounded like a guy called for help. And it was coming from behind the basement door.

You try to shake it off, chalking it up to being home alone and the fact that you had just watched a horror movie, but then you heard it again. It was definitely there.

Swallowing the fear, you walk back over to the basement door, which was stupid. It wouldn’t open and you would realize you were being paranoid and go to bed, right? You push the door, surprised when it did open, the door hitting the wall with a loud thud.

“I is anybody there!” A voice called from the darkness below.

“Hello?” You called back, a hand pressed to the wall as you descended down the steps. The darkness of the basement quickly engulfed you. All you saw was pitch black.

“Please help me! Hurry! He could come back any minute!” The guy sounded so desperate and frankly it was annoying. Just hearing his shrill plea was hitting a nerve you never knew you had before.

Soon enough you found the light switch, turning it on, the fluorescent lights temporarily binding you and whomever was in the basement. The buzzing sound of the lights just seemed to further your irritation. Did Taehyung work a lot down here?

You pause. Taehyung. This was his special place. A place he told you you could never enter, but here you were and with a strange man. Did he put him down here?

Your eyes soon adjusted to the bright light, slowly the blur in front of you turned into a very handsome, very naked, bloodied man. His right eye seemed to be firmly shut by all the blood that had died there, the source was a gigantic gash on his forehead.

Both his legs were twisted and mangled - defiantly broken - almost as if someone had taken a sledgehammer to them. On his left hand all of the fingernails were torn off, three missing fingers on the right hand. There was blood all over the arms of the chair. Several burn marks and knife slashes reached from his chest and to his shoulders. You wouldn’t be surprised if they were on his back as well.

The man let out a relieved sigh, smiling at the sight of you. Now that you had a good look at him you recognize him. This was Jeon Jungkook, the guy that went missing almost two weeks ago. He was here in your basement being tortured this whole time.

You felt your gut twist, but not out of disgust or horror, but of excitement and arousal. It was a new feeling for you, especially because it came at the sight of a half dead man, but you didn’t feel like you wanted to stop it. If anything you wanted more.

“Please.” Jungkook cried. “Please help m-”

Jungkook’s pleas were cut off by the sound of the front door closing. You were getting more excited with each footstep you hear, while Jungkook was getting more scared. His wide eyes begged you to untie him.

“What? Why is this open?” Taehyung’s voice wafted down from the living room, followed by his heavy footsteps on the wooden stairs, until he came into view, eyes wide at the scene before him.

He wasn’t the only one.

Taehyung had entered the basement looking completely different than when he left. His large white shirt was switched for a tight silky red button up, blue jeans for tight black ones, his shoes were now black dress shoes instead of his regular sneakers, but the part of him that had drastically changed was the makeup on his face.

Red painted lips that were over drawn to look like a menacing smile, his nose was completely red, his eyes were now blue indicating he had put in contacts with dark red and black eyeshadow, and there was a purple line with a circle on each end on his left and right eye, stretching from his eyebrow to his cheek.

Your boyfriend was the killer clown. Your boyfriend was a murderer.

And you had never wanted him more.

“Y/n.” Taehyung growled, walking towards you and gripping your arm, his nails digging into your skin. “I told you not to come down here.”

“I heard noises so I came to look.”

“I really wish you hadn’t”

“But I did. Why didn’t you tell me that it was you?”

Taehyung scoffed. “What? Tell you?”

“Yeah, then I wouldn’t have had to worry about you getting kidnapped and killed. I would have known you would come home.” You smirked up at him.

“I would have joined you.”

Taehyung’s eyes widened and he grins, a new wave of feelings washing over him.

“You would have?”

You wiggled your arms out his grasp to instead wrap your arms around his chest, kissing his exposed collarbone. “I.” You kissed further up. “Would.” You lick the bite you made earlier, it was already a deep purple, excited as Taehyung shivers. “Have.” Finally you kiss his red painted lips.

You feel Taehyung smile against your lips before he lifts you up into his arms, your legs wrapping around his waist, feeling his hardening cock press against your thigh.

Taehyung walked over to a workbench, placing you on the hardwood, but you hissed as the skin of your legs came in contact with the sharpness of one of his knives. You could feel the blood start to flow from your thigh.

“Tae.” You whine, but Taehyung was already one step ahead of you, unwrapping your legs from his waist to move the knives out of the way. He pushed you back further on the bench until your back was on the brick wall and you could place your legs up, exposing your bleeding legs to Taehyung’s greedy eyes. You were thankful that you had gone with your shortest and thinnest shorts today.

Taehyung’s hot tongue lapped up your blood causing you to moan at the feeling. He wiggled his tongue over the cut before pulling back, smirking at your whine. As he moved his hands to the waistband of your pants, all you could see was the red blood stain around his mouth and his red painted lips were already smudging.

It was the hottest thing you had ever seen in your life.

Taehyung dragged your shorts and panties down your legs before chucking them to a random order of the room. The two of you were so lost in your foreplay that you almost didn’t hear Jungkook start to call out for help again. Not that it was going to do him any good.

“Help! Somebody help me! Please!”

You groan, head lopping to the side, frustrated that this prick wanted to ruin your fun. Or would he? Your lip curled wickedly as you had a fun idea. You pushed Taehyung back, hopping off the table and taking off your shirt, your breasts free because you weren’t wearing a bra, before you gripped one of the knives in your hand.

“Why don’t you shut up?” Before you even finished your sentence you bent over and drove the blade of the knife into Jungkook’s leg. Jungkook screams drowned out your laughter. Taehyung came up behind you, his chest swelling with pride and love.

Taehyung slipped his fingers between your folds, collecting your juices before going to press his thumb harshly against your clit. You moaned, head falling forward onto Jungkook’s shoulder, which he tried and failed to jerk away from your touch.

“Keep slicing baby. Don’t let up.” Taehyung purred from behind you, his finger drawing figure eights around your clit.

You whine and moan, but continue as Taehyung said, twisting the blade in Jungkook’s leg. Jungkook’s screams were being drowned out by the intense pleasure Taehyung was giving you.

His skilled fingers slip down further, circling your entrance before inserting two fingers, thrusting them in and out of you.

With each thrust of his fingers, you would slash the knife across any bit of skin you could reach, sometimes that included your own. Anytime you would catch your skin, you moaned and pushed yourself back to meet Taehyung’s fingers.

You could feel yourself getting close, the coil inside your belly tightening quickly. Taehyung could feel your high approaching. He took the knife from you, tossing it to the side and wrapped an arm around you, pulling you up to meet his chest. His lips kissed the side of your neck, staining it red.

By the time Taehyung had inserted a third finger you were being pushed off the edge. Your orgasm washed over you and Taehyung thrust his fingers to help you through it until you began to push him away due to over stimulation.

Taehyung pulled his fingers out and let you slip to the ground as he licked his fingers clean, moaning at the sweet taste of your cunt.

When you were finally coming down from your high you could hear Jungkook sobbing. Annoying little brat. You wanted to do away with him yourself, but you didn’t have the energy right now.

“Why don’t you try to go upstairs, Y/n?” Taehyung helped you from the floor and over to the stairs. “While I take care of him.”

You hum in response before kissing his red lips one last time before attempting to maneuver your way up the steps. “Kill him good baby.”

That got Jungkook’s full attention.

“No no! Please! I I won’t tell anyone just please let me go!”

“Oh you won’t be telling anyone.” Taehyung smirked before picking up the knife, towering over the sobbing boy. “That’s for damned sure.”

You heard one final scream before Jungkook was silenced forever.

#kim taehyung x reader #taehyung x reader #kim taehyung smut #kim taehyung x reader smut #taehyung x reader smut #kim taehyung #bts x reader #bts x reader smut #yandere!bts x reader #killer!bts x reader #Blood Lust #tbtsstuff

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guyinlovewitheremika · 4 years

Photo

The new key visual looks awesome!! Finally getting more Final Season artwork is so satisfying and this is pretty great! The marley arc is probably my favorite in the manga and getting even more promotional art for it is really cool : D Since we’re still 3 months from the airdate I hope we’ll get another Warrior-centric one, with the new and old crew, but rn, especially with manga context, I love this, and I need to ramble about it.

First of all, Mikasa!!! Mikasa front and center!!! lets gooooo ahh I’m so happy about this! I don’t think she’s ever been this focused on in any of the promotional key visuals and it’s been about time! She looks gorgeous and absolutely ruthless, I’m here for it. It’s also relieving to see that the scarf did in fact stay red which wasn’t totally certain in the pv. I also think it’s interesting that both that shot of her in the pv, as well as her in this visual both kind of highlight her more badass/ruthless side--I’m all here for it cause like, look at her!!! But she also spends a good amount of time in marley being sad and distressed which I hope they’ll do justice to. Either way, she looks amazing and I can’t wait to see her finally in motion.

Levi I’m a little less sure on--his face looks a little odd? Maybe it’s the nose? I’m not really sure. To be fair, his design has probably been the least consistent across the whole anime, and he’s certainly looked worse! But yeah, I’m not 100% sold on his look yet. Also just as it was in the first key visual, his cape is green? Even tho its specifically dyed black in the manga? I’m sure why and I’m kinda sad about that cause I would’ve loved to see that all black look on him, it’s an odd change.

Connie, Jean and Sasha all look good to me (I’m glad we’re getting Sasha artwork before, you know), but Armin gets pushed to the side pretty hard kind of? Given his rather small role this arc, I think it makes sense, tho hopefully key visuals for the later arcs will improve on that. Also sidenote, his pose reminded me a lot of Jean in the S2 Group visual lol

Hange being a bit smaller, but also being centered and depicted as the leader fits well here, especially with her being closest to the airship since she never leaves it. It reminds me of Erwin in a few other posters, kind of continuing the commander position, in a way

That’s some solid continuity!!! (also, Hange :/)

One thing I also dig about this visual is the look of certain textures, specifically metallic objects, like the blades, thunderspears, even the airship.

It has this like..shiny glow? I can’t really express what I mean with it, but all these objects feel very tangible, very three dimensional, which is cool!

Unfortunately I don’t really feel the same way about all the textures present in this visual. See, non metallic textures, like clothing, skin, and the characters outlines in general have this kind of rough, or gritty look to them. The lines are clear and straight like they used to be, but it’s a little messier? The first key visual did the same thing, let me show you.

Compare it to something like this, where (even tho the resolution is a bit botched on tumblr) everything looks much smoother, cleaner, softer. Maybe it’s because I’m so used to Kyoji Asano’s style of drawing these key visuals for 6 years, but I think I prefer it over the approach of Tomohiro Kishi’s style. But this only is the start of seeing new artwork, maybe I’ll get used to it. It’s a bit odd as Wit’s animation style in the show was known for generally having thicker lines, and even tho they cut back on that in later seasons, it’s still not as thin as in the final season pv, yet its artwork has lines that feel thicker. It’s an odd back and forth.

My honestly biggest gripe with this key visual is it’s actual get up--having characters kind of float around in nothingness isn’t something I really love. I much prefer most of the older group visuals (like the recap movies or the S2 one) where characters at least seemed to stand on surfaces and physical space, and those who weren’t were either shown to be mid air, or obscured enough so you couldn’t see them stand in nothing. As a result, this reminds me a lot of the 3rd S3 visual

I wasn’t a huge fan of that one as it just reused and rearranged the Vol13 poses without really any effort. Like it just plants everyone there and I don’t think the result is really all that impressive. This one does this a lot better, as it has a bit more synergy going for it, there’s a bit of motion (the soldiers flying next to the ship looking like speedlines is a cool touch), and it just looks more interesting in my opinion. I also think it does the manga-ripoff better, as it clearly is meant to resemble vol 26 with the airship and the squad, but it doesnt just reuse the poses--they’re new here, and the overall positioning of everyone reminds me more of the Vol 25 alt cover, or the new 32 one. It feels true to the spirit of the manga without outright copying! I still don’t like the mid air floating, but other than that it’s a solid grouping!

One additional neat thing is that the new gear is drawn with so much detail! Just as in the PV. Which is awesome! Sometimes its a bit though to get a good look at all the specifics in the manga, but here it’s just---exciting. I never even realized that Mikasa has to swap to an entirely different set of 3DMG handle/trigger/grapple that’s attached to her gear as well--everyone else has only one set for either the gun+thunderspear combo or the swords, but Mikasa has both sets on her since she does switch to swords on 103. And its just fucking crazy just how much gear this girl has on her lmao (did you know a single thunder spear weighs 5kg? thats 20 on each hand! plus all the heavy gear that comes with it! she is too strong lmao)

Ultimately, I like this visual a lot. It’s not perfect and some things are gonna take a while to get used to, but overall, I’m so excited to see everyone’s different looks highlighted as the season goes on. And getting so much Marley arc promo atm is very much appreciated! Hopefully we get another one focused on the warriors soon, and, man, even tho it’s a spoiler, I would kill for one visual dedicated to Marley Eren specifically...like...please.

Bring on the Final Season!!

#I was not expecting to ramble this much about this visual but here we are #Im really excited man #attack on titan #snk #the final season #mikasa ackerman #levi ackerman #hange zoe

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crowdedimagines · 4 years

Text

Happy Ending - Harry Styles

friends to lovers 3.1K 🤩

The long line doesn’t turn me away from my favorite coffee shop. I know it’s worth the wait, I’m sure the warm weather is what’s bringing everyone in so suddenly. I’m in no rush, I just got out of class and all I have waiting for me at home is homework and some vinyls demanding to be played.

I can feel a presence behind me as the line continues to grow behind me.

“Would it make me a complete narcissist if I ask you if that tattoo is related to me?” A voice calls in my ear softly. I turn to meet the face of the man who created the idea behind the tattoo himself. Harry Styles. I follow his eyes as he looks down to the small T P W K printed on the back of my arm in a minimalistic font.

“Yes it would, but that doesn’t mean you would be wrong.” I grin, turning back away from him. Partially so he doesn’t see my blush and so I can try to somewhat maintain my cool. I never thought Harry Styles would actually see my tattoo.

His grin reaches all the way across his face.

“Well in that case I’m flattered.” He hums his eyes drifting to the menu board on the wall.

“You should be, it was my first.” We both laugh.

“Have you ever come here before?” He asks, continuing the conversation.

“Yes, it’s my favorite little spot in L.A.”

“Got any recommendations for a drink?”

I go over a few different drinks with him explaining why I like them. I give him a few options because I honestly don’t know what he likes. Does he want something hot? Iced? Blended? I’m definitely overthinking this, but at least I’m giving him a variety of things to try if he ever comes back.

“Which are you getting?”

I respond with the first drink I started telling him about. He takes a sidestep around me, bypassing me to the register. I didn’t even realize I was next. He orders two of my drinks and pays for them.

“It’s the least I can do for a fan.” He says after I thank him. We both move over to the other end of the counter to wait for our drinks. It looks like the rush might be slowing down.

“So what brought you here? I’m guessing it’s because there’s no way you could ever step foot in Beachwood Cafe ever again.” I tease.

“Yeah, I can’t go there. Not like I used to at least, but I have to say depending on the coffee this place might become my new spot.”

“It’s not usually this busy either. I think it’s the spring fever bringing everyone out today.”

Once we get our drinks he follows me to a table by the window.

“You don’t mind, right?” He pulls out his chair.

“Not at all, I am a bit confused though.”

He nods for me to continue while he takes a sip of his coffee.

“I don’t think you hangout with every fan you meet. Especially not in a public place like this. So what gives.”

He snorts softly at my blunt question, but I had to know. It was secretly eating away at me, why would he choose me to spend his time with?

“Since we’re speaking bluntly,” He pauses to lean forward on his arms on the table, “I feel drawn to you. You seem like someone I would enjoy spending time with. I don’t typically pass that sort of thing up.”

“You want to spend time with me? What if I’m some crazed fan?” I grin. It’s weird how comfortable I feel around him. I feel like I already know him, but somehow he’s welcomed me in. Our conversation comes with ease.

“Trust me, if that were the case I would’ve known by now. I wouldn’t have engaged any further.” He laughs.

“Wow, so that’s how it is. You decided I’m probably not delusional?”

“You can never be too careful.” He shrugs, “Plus I needed to get to know the girl who got a tattoo after one of my songs.”

“Actually I got it before the song.” I correct with a laugh, “I liked the message when you came out with it as part of your brand. Treat people with kindness is a good thing to remember. The fact that you created a song for it is just a bonus.”

We sit and talk for nearly a half an hour. I never thought I would be able to keep myself focused and composed, but after the first minute you realize he’s just a human. The conversation flows easily, never an awkward lull.

“Well, I actually have to go. I have so much work I need to do and I wasn’t planning on staying when I ran in here.”

What am I doing? How often do you get to sit and talk with Harry Styles? Homework can wait!

“Yeah, I should probably be going too.” He gets up and we walk slowly towards the door, he holds it open for me and we’re greeted with a warm breeze.

“Well it was really nice to talk to you. Get to know the man behind the music a little better.” I smile, his cheeks tint pink.

“You too. It was nice to get to know the girl behind the tattoo a little better as well.”

“Have a nice day, Harry.” I smile and turn to walk away.

“Y/n, wait.” His voice calls, saying my name out loud for the first time. I turn around to see he’s taken a few large steps to catch up. “Can I ask for your phone number? I don’t want this to be the end of our story.”

My heart starts racing at his words.

“And what exactly do you want to be the end of our story?”

“I’ll let you know once we’re there.”

It’s been nearly four months since I first met Harry. After I gave him my number that day it’s been nonstop communication. Him calling while he travels far away, texts between my classes and his meetings, but my favorite are when I actually get to see him.

“Harry!” I yell, letting myself into the unlocked house.

Still no answer.

“Harry!” I call again as I kick off my shoes and set down my bag, “You know as a big time celebrity you really shouldn’t leave your front door unlocked.”

Still no answer.

I let myself wander around trying to find the boy I’ve grown so close with. His large Malibu home leaves plenty of places for him to be. I check the kitchen, living room, dining room, and his office before I go upstairs. In hindsight, his bedroom should’ve been the first place I looked once he wasn’t answering.

“Hey.” He calls from inside his walk in closet.

“Hi.” I groan, letting myself fall back on his bed.

“Long day?” He asks, coming out as he pulls a shirt on over his head.

“Yeah, just a presentation I need to do next week was assigned today. It’s going to suck, I’m already dreading it.”

He walks over and throws himself down on the bed next to me, laying parallel while we both stare at the ceiling.

“I’m sure you’ll smash it. What has you dreading it?”

“It’s just with the worst professor, he’s known for making students cry on the spot. He literally has the worst reputation on campus. He interrupts you and corrects you, announcing your points off as you go. He’s insane.”

“That sounds awful. Can he really do that?”

“I don’t know, I think so. I’ve only ever heard horror stories.”

“Well since you’re in such a shit mood, I’ll let you pick the movie.” He holds out a hand to pull me up off the bed.

“Hey, I’m not in a shit mood!” I grumble.

“You came in all mopey.” Harry teases.

“I’m not mopey.” I roll my eyes, “You asked me what was wrong, so I told you.”

“I know, now let's go make dinner.”

He presses a fast kiss to my cheek before he places a hand on each shoulder with a squeeze, leading me out of his room and down the stairs. It’s brief moments like these where I question our friendship. If that's what you can call it. He is by far the touchiest and most cuddly friend I’ve ever had. Not that I mind, I just wish there was the tiniest bit more clarity to the situation.

“Pasta?” He asks, opening his cupboard and looking around.

“Yes!” I cheer.

It’s been a tradition of ours for two months now that if he’s in town we have a movie night which consists of us making a meal from scratch beforehand.

“Have you ever made homemade pasta before?” I ask, reaching for the flour and other ingredients I know we’ll need.

“Twice. Both times I think I made Gem do all the work.”

I roll my eyes muttering a ‘sounds about right’.

“What was that missy?” he asks, bumping his hip into mine.

“Nothing.” I grin.

“Hmm sounds like you said something, love.” His voice just a whisper in my ear. His breath is warm against my face, raising goosebumps everywhere else on my body. Before I can even move a muscle, he’s gone to grab something on the other side of the kitchen. Unfazed by his actions.

Harry puts on some music and we both get to work. The dough is setting up in the fridge while we cut vegetables and prepare other things we’ll need.

“So you’re telling me that you’ve never really made pasta before, but you have a pasta maker?”

“Yeah, so what?” I roll my eyes.

I throw some flour on the counter so I can roll out the dough so cut into strips to run through the machine. Harry grabs his phone, busy finding a new playlist to listen to. I grab a small pinch of flour and throw it at him. The front of him is now powdered white.

“You did not just do that.” He mutters quietly as he looks down to his now white shirt.

“Hmm, sounds like you’ve said something, love?” I echo his words back to him. He tries to cover up his grin, but fails.

“What happened to treating people with kindness?” He asks, “You like it enough to get it tattooed on ya, but ya can’t even be nice to me.”

I let out a laugh, my tattoo has been something he enjoys teasing me about. He likes to hold it over my head that before we became friends I was a fan.

“You’ve just started a war.” He sets down his phone and takes a few steps closer, I take steps back until I meet the kitchen island. Harry reaches behind me and takes a handful off the counter.

“Now Harry, that’s way more than I did.” I remind, seeing his fistful of flour hanging over me.

“Who said I’m trying to get even?”

Without another second he opens his hand, letting flour rain down on me. I duck and try to avoid as much as I can, which is a failure. I can tell I must look ridiculous by the way Harry starts laughing.

I brush it off my face with as much grace as I can.

“That was a mistake.”

“Oh was it now? Because to me it seems to me you are the one coated in flour right now.”

“That’s about to change.”

We both tear off chasing after each other. Mainly me chasing Harry because I have the flour bag in hand. Miscellaneous vegetables fly through the air as we target each other. We both manage to douse the other a few more times in flour before he finally catches me by my waist. I let out a scream as he picks me up off the ground.

“Truce?” He asks.

“Truce.”

He puts me back down and I can finally get a good look at the damage. His cabinets and the floor are splattered with flour. Each step we take, more falls off of us. Bits of carrots, broccoli, and tomatoes all over the floor.

“Okay, you call for pizza and I’ll start cleaning this up.”

“Sounds like a great idea.” Harry agrees, he grabs his phone.

I grab the broom and start cleaning everything up. I wipe down the counter and the other spots that were hit.

“Alright pizza will be here in thirty minutes.” Harry announces coming back in.

“That’s perfect because we both need a shower.”

I pull my shirt off over my head and fold it in on itself to avoid sprinkling it anywhere else.

“So you plan on doing that right here?” He asks teasingly?

“No.” I roll my eyes, “We are literally dripping flour, I just cleaned this up. I’m not tracking this all over the house again.”

I walk to his laundry room and take off the rest of my clothes, leaving me in my bra and underwear, Harry follows me in realizing I was right. I catch his eyes on me a few times which makes me realize he’s never seen me in this little clothing. We’ve been close for months, but never without clothes.

“You can take the shower in the guest room, that one should have some towels and shampoo and whatnot.” Harry informs as I follow him upstairs.

“Thanks.”

The shower was nice, and much needed. I could get used to showering here. The water was truly hot and the water pressure was insane. Even his guest bathroom shower could fit at least two of the one in my apartment. I’m drying myself off when there’s a soft knock at my door. I wrap the towel around me tightly before opening it.

“Here. I thought you might need something else to wear.” Harry hands me a stack of clothes that I know belong to him.

“Thanks.” I smile.

He pushes wet curls back, running a hand through them.

“The pizza just got here.”

“I’ll be right down.”

I look over the sweatshirt and a pair of boxers that he gave me. I’ve worn an outfit similar a few times here when I’ve slept over when I wasn’t planning on it. It’s all so soft and it smells like him.

“So what’s your pick?” He asks, going over the movie selection. I decide on a rom-com that we surprisingly haven’t watched together yet.

We both eat our pizza before wanting to shift. Harry lays down the length of the couch and I tuck myself next to him. His arm resting on my waist as we share a pillow.

“I can’t believe it’s been how long and we haven’t watched Sweet Home Alabama.” I grin, “It’s a classic.”

“I didn’t know it was one of your favorites.” He comments, looking down at me. It takes me a second to not get lost in his green eyes.

“Yeah, I just love a happy ending.”

“Me too.”

We continue to watch the rest of the movie for a while in comfortable silence. I think for some reason Harry’s nervous. Two minutes ago he moves his hand to my hip, I don’t think he knows that he’s tapping on it.

“Har, are you okay?” I look over my shoulder.

“Hmm?” He looks down.

“Are you alright?” I ask, “You’re tapping.”

He follows my gaze down to his hand and he stops immediately.

“Sorry.” He sighs.

“It’s alright, are you okay? Do you need to talk about something?”

I can’t figure out where this is coming from. I have only seen him look this anxious a few times.

“Yeah, I do actually.” He sits up, pulling me up with him. I turn to face him, he reaches for the remote to turn down the volume of the movie.

“I’m all ears, H.” I reach out my hand to him.

He smiles looking at our connected hands and takes a deep breath.

“I’m in love with you, Y/n. I know we’ve been friends for months, but I would be lying if I said that that’s all I want for us. I have never felt this way about someone before, since I met you. I knew that you were someone I needed to know. And now that I know you, I want to know all of you, Y/n. I understand if you don’t feel the same way, I just needed to tell you. I think that you’re worth how scary this is right now. I really love you, Y/n.”

He lets out a long sigh once he’s done. A visible weight lifted off his shoulders.

“I love you too, Harry.” I grin. “I have loved you since before I even knew you, and now that I do I love you even more. It’s hard to believe there was ever a time where you weren’t in my life.”

I pull him down on top of me in a bone crushing hug as we fall back on the couch.

“Thank god.” He mutters into my hair.

I let out a laugh and rub up and down his back.

“Will you please be my girlfriend?” He sits up, pulling away slightly to get a good look at me.

“Only if you’ll be my boyfriend.”

“Deal.”

He litters my face with kisses, all except the one place they’ve never been.

“Hey.” I grab his attention, pulling it from the kiss he was planting on my forehead, “If I’m your girlfriend now, I want a real kiss.”

“I think I can manage.”

He brings his head down, I bring my hand up to his jawline. I run it up until I hit his hair, giving it a good tug. I guide his face towards mine until our lips finally meet. I can feel we’re both smiling right now, until we deepen it. Just enough to last a few seconds and get a taste of what we’ve both been craving for months. I would have to say it’s a perfect first kiss.

We both snuggle back in the way we were laying previously. The only difference is we both have goofy grins now that are impossible to wipe off.

“So, is this the ending you wanted for our story?” I ask after a few minutes of watching the movie, turning over my shoulder to look at him. I could never forget what he said the first time we met.

“You want to know what our ending will be?” I nod eagerly, he reaches out to brush a piece of hair away from my face.

“Our ending will be us, old and wrinkled on the beach somewhere. Kids. Grandkids. That’s what I want to be our ending.”

“I think I like our ending.” I peck my lips against his.

“Me too.”

please let me know what you thought below! love feedback xoxo

#harry styles imagine #harry styles x reader #Harry Styles

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steponmepinkjun · 4 years

Note

asra and mc being roomates in college! friends to lovers au 👀

Oh man oh man, this one really got me right in the honey nut feelios, lemme tell ya. Thank you for catapulting my whole heart and ass into both love and also lust 😍😭 My brain said headcanon but my heart said DAMN NEAR WHOLE ASS FIC. I hope you got your reading pants on, cause this is a looong long ride

Sidenote shoutout to my peeps @vesuviasfastestcourier and @thephoenixmagician 🍻👌

✨ College Roommate AU ✨

M!Asra x F!MC: Friends to Lovers — Part One (Reader POV)

PART TWO HERE

PART THREE HERE

WARNING: NSFW throughout. 18+ only, minors DNI.

Asra’s that guy. Always casual, relaxed, skateboarding around campus or napping under a tree with his oversized headphones on. Nice to everyone, but belongs to no one friend group. Seems to have no real class schedule, always a bit of a mess in a lazy-cute kind of way. No one really knows anything about him, but his tanned skin, dimpled cheeks, and pale lilac mop of hair are impossible not to be drawn into. He’s that cool guy, with better, more obscure taste in movies and music and literature than anyone else. That weird, cool guy.

When you see the post, roommate wanted, it’s a tiny, run down cottage in the old neighborhood across from campus. It looks cute, and homey, a quaint two bedroom with succulents in the window and wildflowers flourishing in the sidewalk cracks. You can afford it, if nothing else. But you are not prepared for who answers the door when you come knocking.

You’d only spoken over text, you didn’t realize this was that guy. That you could be living with that guy. And you feel very uncool and very green and very unsure, but he’s so friendly, and so bouncy, and he laughs easily and you’re suddenly shocked at how comfortable you feel. He feels warm, and goofy, and you decide that yes, you’d like to stay.

Somehow, you become inseparable almost right away. He always prepares a mug of tea for you alongside his own, and invites you to join him when he’s sprawled haphazardly on the couch watching a movie. He comes home from the grocery store with a little potted cactus, and tells you the tiny pink bloom reminded him of you. He is warm.

And it’s impossible to deny that he is, without a doubt, the most gorgeous guy you’ve ever seen. He smells like citrus and sandlewood, he falls asleep on the couch in only a pair of low-slung plaid pajama pants, he trips over his own feet and blushes up to his ears when you catch him drinking straight from the carton of orange juice, again. When you fall asleep next to each other laughing late at night, or squeeze into the last leg of room on a crowded subway car, you’re sure he can hear how hard your heart is pounding. You know you’re not his type but he’s so close and you can’t help that he’s making you fall in love with him—

And sometimes it’s hard. Hard to look at him. Hard to sit next to him like you’re content with what you are, his best friend, not his girlfriend. Hard not to kiss him, hard not to be crushed knowing you’re pining hopelessly after a boy who will never love you like that.

You’re inseparable, you wouldn’t have it any other way. He plays you his favorite records for hours on end while you paint each other’s nails, you can’t apply a face mask without his wide eyes peeping around the corner in a silent request, I want some too. You cook together, you shop together, you share clothes and hold hands so it’s just hard sometimes.

And when he looks at you it’s with so much tenderness and adoration, and sometimes a sly little smirk you can’t quite place, and every now and again he blushes out of the blue and looks away, he melts your heart and its killing you.

Asra’s one semi-consistent house guest, a fellow called Julian, is the first punk-goth med student you’ve ever met, and always shows up either belligerently exhausted, or belligerently drunk. He keeps referring to you as Asra’s girlfriend, and for some reason Asra never corrects him.

One evening you’re rifling through Asra’s dresser drawers looking for your favorite shirt to sleep in, and you stumble across what you immediately recognise as your favorite pair of panties—tiny, lacy, baby pink. Mortified, you swear to pay more attention when sorting the laundry.

Sometimes when the two of you stay in and have a few drinks, you find yourself feeling bolder and less controlled. You let your hands move more freely across his shoulders and arms, you press yourself closer, even allow yourself to flirt a little bit—he eyes get wider and his blush gets brighter the longer you go on. Eventually he finds an excuse to disappear into his room, and the next morning you’re grateful he’s too kind to mention it.

Sometimes his eyes lock with yours as he licks a stray drop of cherry juice off his finger, or his grin turns mischievous when he beckons you to snuggle up to him on the couch with your back to his chest. He has many pet names for you, some funny, some impossibly sweet, but sometimes he calls you kitten and seems all too delighted by how flustered you become, almost like he knows how wet it makes you.

One day Asra bounds into your room to chat while you get ready to go to dinner—"Hey, kitten!—and plops down on your bed. From the corner of your eye you see him stop, and then crane his gaze towards your top drawer, which you realize with horror you have stupidly left lying open. You whirl around as his eyes land on its contents, your beloved magic wand, a glass cock, a shiny metal plug adorned with a sparkling pink crystal, and the long abandoned silk blindfold and leather wrist cuffs. Before you can force an explanation out of your mouth, Asra turns to you with a quirked brow, eyes fiery and bright below heavy lids. “Why, kitten,” he purrs with a smirk like a fox that’s just cornered a trembling rabbit.

You always feel guilty thinking of him when you touchyourself, you know it’s perverse to pretend the toy inside you is his cock, you know it’s depraved that you can’t help but sigh his name when you cum—of course it’s sick, he’s your best friend—but the way he looks at you when he sees the sordid collection at your bedside has you gasping, and at dinner you can’t sit still, intently aware of how cold the air feels on the soaking wet fabric of your panties. That night you replay it in your mind over and over, three fingers deep, toes curling, imagining him saying it while he fucks you from behind, pounding your g-spot until you’re squirting cum down your wrist, soaking through the sheets, too lost to know if you’re screaming his name in your head or out loud. If he hears you from across the hall, he never mentions it.

You know, realistically, logically, the tension you sometimes feel between you is your fault, imagined, no matter how much you wish it was the crackling of shared desire. You wonder if this new spark in his eye is cruel, he plays like he’s flirting, he wouldn’t tease you so meanly, would he? The Asra you love would never be be so heartless as to poke fun at a girl so clearly besotted. But why else flirt so shamelessly with a girl so hopelessly in love?

When you buy tickets to a show, you buy two, like you always do. The night of, he looks magnificent, ethereal, glitter cascading off of him, skin glowing, lips flushed, he’s a spectacle under the neon lights as the band plays and the bass throbs. His dancing is serpentine, languid and inviting, he pulls you closer and you both flow with the heavy pulsating beat of the music. For a second you get just too lost in the sparkle in his eyes, the way the pinks and greens of the light show bounce off his jaw, his collarbones, his lips, your hunger makes you lean in all too close—and you catch yourself at the exact second he dips his chin and lowers his head to meet your kiss halfway. You hesitate, confused and nervous and confused, very confused, and your eyes dart up to his in question.

Do you know what you’re doing? Do you want this? Do you mean it?

He looks back at you, Asra. Your Asra. Warm, soft, beguiling, inviting. Your hand moves to cradle his jaw as your eyes drift closed, and you close the gap between you.

His lips and tongue are soft and yielding where the heat of his kiss is not. His hands come to your hips, your waist, your neck, your hair, he breathes you in and moans into your mouth. He kisses you like you are the air he needs to live. You feel the desperation and the relief as finally, finally, you kiss him.

#forestfairryyy #the arcana #the arcana game #Asra #asra the arcana game #asra alnazar #asra headcanons #Asra the magician #asra x reader #the arcana asra #Asra the arcana #Mine #Asra lemon #Roommate au

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writingsfromstarfleet · 4 years

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Not On Our Watch - Julian and Garak X Reader

A/N: This is for a lovely lil Anon, who mentioned that they were going through it a little. Whoever you are, remember you’re always loved, and should you need anyone, my DMs are always open for a chat. I hope this is what you needed and that you enjoy it, big hugs your way, Anon! :) x

Joining Starfleet, you were expecting to have a career filled with exciting prospects, travel and experiences that were all brand new to you. All this, you got. What you didn't expect, was to pick up two people along the way who you now could never envisage a life without.

On your first day on Deep Space Nine, the first person you met was the doctor aboard the station, Julian Bashir. He was, to say the least, enthusiastic about having someone new arrive. Quickly, the two of you bonded and talked for what seemed like forever. The similarities kept coming. He was kind, as doctors always were, and he was beyond pleasant. Julian slowly became the one person you always went to with problems.

Shortly after, Julian had introduced you to someone else he new, Deep Space Nine's resident Cardassian, Elim Garak. Not known for being the most social man, you were absolutely awestruck that he kept conversation flowing with you once Julian got you talking. Garak was fascinating, a truly remarkable man with so many stories to tell, each time keeping you guessing as to the real truth of it all. An enigma, so it were, and you were utterly drawn in.

Between the two of them, you had found solidarity, even in your darkest times. Julian and Garak were always there for you, never once faltering in their promise to keep you safe. If ever you had a problem, you knew who to go and find. They had their own ways of dealing with it, too.

Julian was forward, his way of comfort consisted more of talking you through it, either by telling you a story to give you something to focus on, or just talking you through your day in attempt to ground you. He could read you like a book. Julian always knew what you needed, whether it was a cuddle and a shoulder to cry on (in the literal sense) or a silent companion so you felt less alone.

Garak was less talkative, having had his own experiences with mental issues. He knew you just as well as Julian, however, though Garak tended to lean towards a cuddle rather than a chat. He never was much of a talker, after all. Should you have needed it, however, he would tell you the stories you loved, all about his life on Cardassia, and his adventures as 'a tailor.' Garak never imagined he would care so much for someone, but you were like a little sibling to him, and he vowed nothing would ever harm you.

Today, was one of those days. Everything was wrong, anxieties were high, and sadness was topping the charts. You didn't know why, but the galaxies felt like they were against you. Managing to do absolutely everything wrong in your day, you asked your senior if he could excuse you for a break, to which he agreed. You made your way to Quark's, dragging your feet along the Promenade.

"So what do you think is wrong with Y/N, Garak?" Julian asked, as they walked to their lunch together a little behind yourself. You were so deep in thought, you hadn't noticed them.

"I don't know, doctor. Though I think we should find out."

The two sped up, bypassing the cafe they always stopped at. Right now, to them, you were all that mattered. Lunch could wait.

"Y/N," you slowed ever so slightly as Julian's voice pulled you from your thoughts. "Is everything alright, you don't look the best at the minute." His voice was soft and kind, and you looked up at him.

"It's a day." He nodded in understanding. You felt Garak place a gentle hand on your shoulder, making you turn to him.

"May we join you at the bar, my dear? I wouldn't feel right leaving you to sit alone." Smiling, you replied with a yes. Garak's words seemed innocent enough to outside ears, but you knew their meaning. He didn't mean physically alone; he meant alone with your thoughts.

Garak knew you suffered with less than positive thoughts from time to time, and they got a bit much for you at certain points. However, once he had told you about his struggles through life with the same thing, and his phobias to match, you found a sort of safe space with him to talk about things such as that. Not that you didn't trust Julian, of course, that was hardly the case. But, Garak just got it. No question, nothing. He understood it all immediately, and always had the right thing to say, or the right technique to overcome it.

Sitting down in a quiet area, far from anyone else, you sat in silence, though not an awkward one. Julian had his hand wrapped around yours, and Garak placed a comforting hand on your knee.

"So what's wrong?" Julian's voice was low, but caring, and you welled up.

"I-I don't even know. I just feel.. awful."

"Well, we can't be having our little fighter feeling awful can we, doctor?" Garak spoke, and Julian nudged your shoulder with a faint laugh. You smiled and exhaled through your nose in a slight form of a laugh.

"Not on our watch, that's for sure. How about a games night, or something relaxing? Just the three of us, we can watch those old movies from Earth's 21st century that you like. If you want to hear Garak complaining non stop, that is-"

"I never complain, I merely analyse-"

"Complain, Garak, you complain."

Garak merely huffed in response. You burst out laughing, the two men joining in with you, knowing their plan worked. Over your shoulder, they smiled at one another, finally knowing you were feeling somewhat better.

"You two honestly, you're like old ladies at times" you spoke between laughs, and Julian mocked insult, gasping dramatically.

"Me? And old lady? I have never heard such things in all my life." He pushed you away gently and pressed the back of his hand against his head, falling to the table in mock offence. Garak chimed in.

"If I am to be an old lady, would I at least be a fabulous old lady?" By now, you were in a fit of giggles entirely.

"You're both my fabulous old ladies." The three of you were relaxed, and happy, the atmosphere really brightening your mood.

"Hey," Julian started, getting a little more serious. "No more bad feelings, alright? Not on our watch. You're insanely wonderful and completely brilliant, and never would we allow you to feel as though that weren't true."

"Julian is right, Y/N. You are our favourite little human and if you're sad, so are we. And we don’t do sad around here. Let's be happy, best thing you can be in times like that."

You sniffed, their words sitting with you for a while, finally smiling up at them both.

"You're always right, aren't you? What would I do without you, hey? I love you immeasurably, the both of you."

"As do we, you, Y/N." Julian replied, pulling you into a side hug.

"Indeed, he does love you" Garak joked, sending you a look letting you know that he was indeed joking.

"Garak!"

The three of you laughed once more. It was true; you didn't know what you would do without them. They made you laugh, even in times where it was the last thing you wanted to do. Never did you think you would have such people in your life as Julian and Garak, let alone have them care so much about you. Knowing you had them, and that they weren't going anywhere anytime soon, you realised anything was possible, boundaries were conquerable, and life was far better than you knew possible.

#tw: mental health #tw: anxiety #star trek #star trek imagine #star trek x reader #star trek deep space nine #star trek ds9 #deep space nine #ds9 rp #julian bashir #julian bashir x reader #julian bashir imagine #elim garak #garak x reader #garak imagine #x reader #imagine #platonic

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all-souls-matinee · 3 years

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The Best of Inside No. 9

Inside No. 9 (2014-) has the best Halloween special of anything ever. It’s actually one of my favorite episodes of television ever and I want more people to see it, thus today’s primer on a random show that has nothing to do with Halloween or with movies. It’s a precursor to an episode I won’t spoil in any way but that you need to have seen at least a few other episodes to appreciate.

This list is broken down by series; I’ve gone through the arduous task of choosing my two favorite episodes from each season (though not necessarily the best) and compiling them into a helpful list. The premise of the show is that each can be watched as a stand-alone; all unique short stories with totally different characters across an array of genres. The things uniting them are:

Every episode stars creators/writers Reece Shearsmith and Steve Pemberton to some capacity

Every episode’s setting has something to do with the number 9 (an homage to 1944′s Gaslight)

Every episode has some sort of a twist ending or revelation

It’s drawn a lot of comparisons to other things but there’s nothing quite like it. The Twilight Zone maybe comes closest in terms of plot structure/episode length, which is why these reviews are shorter than usual! No spoilers, but trigger warnings on request (for a dark comedy things can get downright nasty.)

S1E1- Sardines

This one has such a seamless transition from silly hijinks into a downright upsetting twist that it was difficult to believe they could ever top it. It’s a story about a simple party game of hide-and-go-seek, and as with any family gathering, buried secrets.

S1E2- A Quiet Night In

This one shows off the more technical side of the show and how far they were capable of taking things, as it’s done with no real dialogue to speak of (haha.) The audio we get is instead diegetic sounds and reactions, including the soundtrack, as we follow a very tense burglary that doesn’t go as planned.

S2E1- La Couchette

This one is funny! And gross! And set in a train car (the world’s greatest setting!) Banter between so many characters we don’t know or have any reason to care about is extremely tricky to write, and they’d already pulled it off once with the first episode so this is just showing off. The twist is a lot of fun too.

S2E2- The Twelve Days of Christine

This one is heartbreaking, and in a change for In9 it’s not one of the more original twist endings they’ve had (maybe that was the real twist all along.) What matters here is some incredible acting from Sheridan Smith, as we follow a single mother through several off-kilter years of her life.

S3E3- The Riddle of the Sphinx

This one is batshit insane. Series three has the most consistently solid episodes of the whole collection so there were a lot of runners-up here, but I have to demur to the one that tried for way way WAY too many twists. It’s confusing and ridiculous and- at its most literal- an instruction in solving a crossword puzzle.

S3E5- Diddle Diddle Dumpling

This one is... odd, but in a way that I find so charming I can’t even describe it. It’s easily one of the more refined and down-to-earth episodes, but we’re also getting into how far the number 9 can take us. Here it applies it to a shoe size.

S4E3- Once Removed

This one is a screwball comedy, but evil. Nonlinear storytelling! A hit gone wrong! Poisoning! Concealed weapons! Grievous injuries! Literal games of telephone! Estate agents! Andrew Lloyd Webber! And a twist that will shock and delight you!!!!!

S4E6- Tempting Fate

This one is set up like a story in the horror collections I used to love so much as a kid, but the payoff is better than anything those had to offer. Three contractors are clearing out the house of a dead man when they find an object that may be able to grant wishes, and there’s just enough meta-ness to make them wary, but not quite enough to stop some terrible decision-making...

S5E4- Misdirection

This one is the magician episode! Unfortunately, as someone who was addicted to watching The Prestige 2005 all day every day when I was 17 I think it might be one of my ultimate favorites. I could watch it over and over again it’s so well-written and so satisfyingly horrid.

S5E6- The Stakeout

This one is what it says on the tin- opening in media res on a crime scene and taking the form of a police procedural through the lens of a nightly stakeout. It’s quieter, measured, and chock full of hints as to what’s in store.

I fully recommend watching all 30+ episodes as even the worst of them bring something to the table; if these plots don’t sound appealing but you’re hooked by the concept or by Reece and Steve’s other work there is at least one that’ll get to you (the s2 domestic drama episode! the s5 football episode! the s4 rhyming theater kid episode not to be confused with the s4 non-rhyming theater kid episode!)

Happy Halloween <:-)

#inside no 9 #me: i want these to be slightly relevant to other people's interests #also me: it's MY sleepover and I get to choose the episodes

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kacockshi · 4 years

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every drop of rain singing: i love you

also available on ao3

1. Kankuro and Kiba

It is not that Rock Lee minds studying really; he is a true believer in the power of hard work! He knows he can achieve his goal (and grades) just by setting his mind to it; if he works hard enough, anything is possible! The problem is (not a problem, he reminds himself, because problems are just ideas waiting for a solution and Lee can solve anything he sets his mind to!) that Lee likes to move around. A lot. He has been sitting at this table in the library for four hours now and the longer he sits, the more he becomes distracted by things big and small, mostly Kiba and Kankuro, who sit studying on the other side of the table.

Well, Kankuro is studying. Kiba is nestled behind him in the chair, head resting on Kankuro’s shoulder, arms wrapped loosely around his waist. Lee is transfixed, eyes flashing around to catch little glimpses of the pair without all out staring. He is fascinated with how comfortable the two look; Kankuro has not stopped clicking away on his laptop once, though occasionally he rubs his cheek gently against the top of Kiba’s head. Every once in a while, one hand will bring a napkin up to Kiba’s face to wipe at the tiny bit of drool that pools at the corner of his lips.

All in all, it should be uncomfortable. The way they are squeezed into one chair with Akamaru passed out on top of their feet, the cramped position, the drool. But Kankuro looks incredibly nonplussed; if anything the expression on his face when he glances up at Kiba is what Lee could only describe as fond.

Lee shakes his head and forces himself to look back at his flashcards. If I do not get all of these right, Lee thinks to himself, clenching his hand into a fist, I will study them each one hundred times over!

He settles back down into his seat and begins to read them over when the chair next to him scrapes silently against the carpeted floor and his favorite redhead sits down. (He knows he should not pick favorites amongst his friends, but this he cannot help).

“Hello, Gaara-kun!” he whispers excitedly, waving his hand around wildly like maybe Gaara does not see him. Like maybe he wants Gaara to really notice him. Strange thought, he thinks to himself but does not let this hinder the joy he feels as Gaara tilts his head at him.

“Lee,” Gaara nods back in a normal voice, “Kankuro.”

“Little brother,” Kankuro replies without looking up from his laptop screen.

“That can’t be comfortable,” Gaara says to Kankuro, still not whispering, before placing his bag on the table in front of him rather loudly.

Before Kankuro can snipe back at him, Lee finds himself waving his hands frantically in front of Gaara’s face, whisper-shouting, “Gaara, no!”

Gaara tilts his head again, eyes focused on Lee’s face but otherwise expressionless, “Lee?”

“You must be respectful of our dear friend’s slumber! He is tired after a night of...” he trails off, mind wandering back to the party the night before, where Kiba had insisted Kankuro let him do body shots until he’d completely stumbled over and landed face first in the older boy’s stomach. Lee must have spent too long thinking because now Kankuro is staring at him, one eyebrow raised, lips smug.

“What was he out doing, Lee?” he asks. It is a dirty trick to embarrass him, Lee is sure, because Kankuro was there. He already knows!

“Youthful interactions!” Lee shouts, cheeks red, and then remembers he’s supposed to be quiet. Whispering, he says, “We have to be quiet in respect of Kiba’s youthful interactions.”

“Youthful interactions, oh my god,” Kankuro laughs sharply, Kiba’s head jostling on his shoulder as he shakes.

“But-”

“Trust me, Lee, this dude?” Kankuro questions, throwing an elbow back to jab at Kiba’s ribs and nodding at the complete lack of reaction that gets from Kiba, “Isn’t going to wake up until I drag his ass out of here.”

“Oh,” Lee blinks and then turns back to Gaara, “I am sorry, then, for chastising you.”

“Mmm,” Gaara hums and nods and for the first time, Lee registers that he is almost positive Gaara’s eyes have been on him this whole time. Strange, “It’s alright, Lee.”

They sit in silence for a moment, Kankuro returning to his laptop, Gaara shuffling with his bag and Lee trying valiantly to study his notes. Only suddenly he feels antsy; he taps his foot to quell the growing pressure but it’s like every muscle in his body has decided it needs to move at once, including his lips, his voice.

“What is it like?” he finally blurts out, cheeks warming when Kankuro and Gaara both turn to look at him.

“What is what like?” Gaara finally asks, as the silence stretches on and Lee seems unwilling to press forward.

“What is it like,” he repeats, eyes looking over at Kankuro, “to be in love?”

Because they must be, truly, to be that comfortable in the most uncomfortable of positions. For Kiba to be so settled against Kankuro, so secure, in public no less. And for Kankuro, master of complaints, to not once try to shove the boy off. They look...peaceful.

“In love?” Kankuro splutters, hands slamming down on his keyboard.

“Yes,” Lee nods, raising one fist and looking upwards as he half yells, “I have yet to experience the precious enthrallment of love and wish to know what it is like!”

“Well,” Kankuro starts, shifting awkwardly in his seat, looking at Lee for a long moment and then side eyeing Kiba, who remains serenely drooling on his shoulder, “It’s a goddamn hassle, is what it is.”

Lee does not know what he was expecting but it was not that and it must show on his face because suddenly Gaara’s fingers are lightly tracing the length of Lee’s arm, resting gently on his hand, all the while hissing at Kankuro, “Brother.”

“Alright, alright, Gaara, get the murder out of your eyes,” Kankuro relents, holding both hands up in front of him, “It’s...well it is a hassle-”

“Kankuro.”

“Calm down, Gaara, it is! Look at him!” Kankuro yells, jabbing a finger into Kiba’s cheek only for the man to scrunch his nose up and push his face further into Kankuro’s neck, “You see! He’s been drooling on my shoulder for at least the last two hours and I don’t even like cuddling, he gets dog fur all over my shit, he bites me with those sharp ass teeth whenever he feels like it but...

“But, I guess it’s nice,” Kankuro says the last part softer, smiling a little before he sharpens completely and points between Gaara and Lee, “Don’t tell this fucker what I’m about to tell you but it’s actually, it’s really nice.

“He’s never bothered by my puppets or my less than amenable attitude, he never questions my weird fucking clothes, and he’s...he’s always there for me, he’s a consistent little mutt, is what he is, and I, I don’t know, I want to be there for him too, I guess,” Kankuro sighs at this, reaching his hand up to run through Kiba’s wild hair, “He’s soft when I need him to be soft and he calls me on my shit when I’m being a bitch. There’s nothing else really to it, I guess.

“But I repeat,” Kankuro says, voice dangerously low, finger wagging between the two of them again, “That you are never, ever, allowed to tell Kiba any of this. Ever.”

“Yes, Kankuro-san, I promise!” Lee nods, giving Kankuro an excited thumbs up. At his side, Gaara merely rolls his eyes.

“Hmm,” hums a voice to Kankuro’s left and they all turn to mechanically look at the boy nestled into Kankuro’s shoulder. Kiba’s eyes are still closed but his face is moving, pressing his smile into the skin of Kankuro’s neck and mumbling, “Love you too, babe.”

“Goddammit,” Kankuro mumbles, sending Lee and Gaara both death glares.

Lee is not sure when it happened but when he looks over, he notices the length of Gaara’s arm pressed against his own, warm and solid. He probably should have noticed Gaara coming closer, but he didn’t. Strange.

It’s later when Lee finds himself tucked into the corner seat of Gaara’s sofa, knees drawn up in front of him, watching as Gaara sits himself in front of the TV to set up their movie.

“You know,” Lee begins as Gaara flips through titles, “It has been a very long time since I have seen the Princess and the Frog and it is one of my favorites.”

Gaara turns around to look at him, one eyebrow half raised, face as questioning as it will ever look, “We watched that last weekend.”

“And that was a very long time ago!” Lee asserts, hands flying up as he speaks, “I do not even remember what exercises I did that day!”

“You ran eight miles at the track,” Gaara deadpans, turning back around to the movies. However, Lee notices, he has begun to type in the search bar t h e p r i n c e- “And then you lifted weights for an hour. Did one hundred pull ups.”

“Oh,” Lee nods, though it never occurs to him to question how Gaara remembered that, “Well, it still feels like a long time ago.”

“It always does,” Gaara nods, sliding back onto the couch and a respectful distance from Lee.

“Gaara,” Lee starts, waiting for the red haired boy to look up at him before continuing, “Do you like cuddling?”

“No.”

“Oh,” Lee mumbles, eyes dropping back down to his knees.

“Do you?” asks Gaara, fingertips reaching out to Lee’s shoulder.

Lee shrugs and mumbles, “I do not have the experience to make an accurate judgement.”

“Oh,” Gaara mimics him from earlier and just when Lee thinks they are going to settle into silence as the opening credits play, Gaara speaks again, ever quiet, “I might...enjoy it. If I was with the right person.”

“Oh,” Lee nods again, barely having enough time to wonder who exactly is the right person for Gaara when he feels those hands searching him out again, fingers twisting into the fabric of his shirt and yanking Lee closer, “Oh!”

“Yes, oh,” Gaara smiles and now that he has Lee closer, he shuffles around uncomfortably, awkwardly lifting his arm to wrap around Lee’s shoulders, “Like...this?”

“That is perfect!” Lee shouts, moving in so his body leans fully against Gaara’s. As the movie plays, Lee whispers all of his favorite lines, sings along to every song and cries when Ray dies. By the end, he has his legs pulled up and haphazardly rested on Gaara’s thighs, face pushing against Gaara’s chest when he cries. Gaara, for his part, has his fingers tightly wrapped in the shoulder of Lee’s shoulder, pulling him closer and closer still.

It’s nice.

2. Kakashi and Iruka

Lee has been waiting for the bus to take him back to his apartment for approximately five minutes. He had spent too long on campus again; training in the morning, lunch with Neji and Tenten in between classes and then studying in the library with Gaara. It was a nice day and Lee was satisfied with the work he had accomplished, but as a result, the campus is mostly empty and Lee waits for his bus alone. But this is fine! Lee values alone time for clarity of thought!

Behind him he hears the shuffling of feet and he turns, leaning against the post next to him to watch. A little ways away, along the pathway that leads out to the parking lot, Professors Hatake and Umino walk side by side, each clad in shoulder bags and jackets. Iruka-sensei must be telling an exciting story because his hands are flying wildly in front of him while Kakashi-sensei nods along, hand coming up every once in a while to pet Iruka’s shoulder or laugh when the professor gets a little too lively in his recounting.

“Hold, please,” Kakashi-sensei says, one hand reaching out to grab onto Iruka’s forearm, stopping him in place. He keeps his hand there while the other digs around in his bag, “Hmm, if I only I could find it.”

“What are you looking for?” Iruka asks, stepping further into Kakashi’s space and it takes a second for Lee to understand why that registers as weird to him. Iruka-sensei generally keeps a very formal, professional, relationship around his coworkers but especially with Kakashi-sensei; he is always glaring at the pale haired man and taking steps back. This is the first time Lee has ever seen Iruka take steps closer to Kakashi, especially not while looking so...comfortable.

“Oh, nothing important, I suppose,” Kakashi replies, still continuing his search, “Perhaps you’ve stolen it.”

“Stolen? Kakashi, you better-”

“Aha! Here it is!” Kakashi smiles (or at least, Lee thinks he’s smiling. The way his eye crinkles definitely looks like he’s probably smiling) pulling his hand out of his bag in a gesture Lee has never seen before. It is empty but his thumb and pointer finger press together at an awkward angle that he shows to Iruka like it’s supposed to mean something.

“And it seems you have stolen it,” Kakashi says, free hand reaching out to brush against Iruka’s cheekbone, tapping excitedly through his hair when he notices the blush painting Iruka’s face, “My heart, after all.”

There is a moment of silence in which Lee is fairly certain he sees every possible emotion flicker on Iruka-sensei’s face before he settles on annoyed, grabbing Kakashi’s hand out of the air and whipping his head around to scan the area, though he doesn’t seem to notice Lee where he leans, still waiting for his bus, “Kakashi! We’re still on campus!”

“And?” Kakashi asks as he is tugged forward by the smaller man, voice amused, “Do you think my love for you stops the moment I step foot on these grounds?”

“You’re so embarrassing, we’re at work!” Iruka yells, but his grip has slipped down from Kakashi’s arm to his hand, fingers threading together as he pulls Kakashi to one single shared car.

Love, Lee thinks. Love!

Who better to ask, really, than a most respected professor like Kakashi-sensei.

Lee does not hesitate to knock on Kakashi-sensei’s office door the next day. Sure, this is not strictly a school matter but it is an education matter and Kakashi has pledged to always help in the name of learning! Lee is pretty sure of that, at least.

“Come in,” Kakashi says from the other side of the door, nodding when Lee opens it and sits down in front of him, “Ahh, Lee, what can I help you with today?”

“Honorable Sensei, I have a question of the most valuable degree!” Lee announces, posture perfectly straight. Kakashi only raises his one visible eyebrow and nods for him to continue and suddenly Lee feels awkward. Sheepish. One hand reaches up to rub against the back of his neck and his cheeks feel warm but he powers through. The most important things to learn always have the most difficult questions! Probably. So, fighting his embarrassment, he brings his other hand up in the same awkward gesture he had seen Kakashi do the previous day and asks, “What does this mean?”

“Ah,” Kakashi nods, hands coming to cross in front of him as he leans back in his chair, “So you saw that yesterday, did you?”

“I did not mean to intrude, Kakashi-sensei, I swear I would not ever try to invade your most private moments!” he swears valiantly and then continues a little quieter, “I was waiting for my bus.”

“It’s alright, Lee, I don’t blame you,” Kakashi nods, one hand up to calm Lee and then morphs it into the same gesture as before, “It’s a finger heart. See?

He uses his free hand to trace the corners of the heart and then rubs the back of his neck, closing his eyes when he says, “Stupid, really, but it’s fun, to do little things like that for the people you love. Just don’t tell Iruka, okay? He would feel...quite embarrassed.”

“But why would he be embarrassed about your purity of love?” Lee asks, astonished. Iruka-sensei should cherish the unbridled love Kakashi-sensei so freely gives him!

“He’s not, really, he just likes to be professional at work,” Kakashi amends, resting his hands back down on his desk, “It’s nothing to worry about, Lee.”

“If you say so, Kakashi-sensei, I trust in your word!” Lee nods seriously and then looks back down at his hand, “So it is just...a heart?”

“Yes, Lee, just a heart,” Kakashi agrees.

“Oh,” Lee replies and decides he would like to use it for someone as well.

He sees Gaara ambling towards the library as he walks out of the offices and before he can stop himself, he shouts, “Gaara-san! I have something for you!”

“Lee?” Gaara asks, voice quiet, turning slowly to look at him. Lee’s fingers thrust out in a tiny heart shaped message towards Gaara but he does not seem to respond the way Iruka-sensei had the day before. Instead, Gaara’s eyes flicker back and forth between Lee’s face and his hand before finally, quietly, saying, “I don’t know what that means.”

“Oh,” Lee nods and tries not to feel disappointed; afterall, he had not known what it meant either. He uses his other hand to trace over the corners and says, “It is a heart! For you!”

“Why would you give me a heart?” Gaara asks, face finally coming to life as he scrunches his eyebrows ever so slightly.

Lee’s face heats up as he ponders the question. Why exactly is he giving Gaara a heart, his heart? His brain runs past all the different reasonings before he settles on, “Because I like you!”

“Oh,” Gaara mumbles, eyes falling to his feet as his cheeks seem to gain a slight coloring they did not have before. Strange, Lee thinks to himself, cocking his head to the side as he watches the color brush across the other boy’s cheeks, “I see.”

It is still not the reaction Lee had been hoping for (though what, really, had he been wanting? He is still unsure) and Gaara must be able to tell because his eyes flash to Lee’s still outstretched hand and he mumbles, “Um,” and then he brings his own two hands up in front of his chest, curving them together in a single shape.

“For you,” Gaara says, thrusting the hand-heart out towards Lee.

Something absolutely bursts inside of Lee. His whole body feels warm and alive and he finds he has no control over his actions because suddenly he’s jumping forward, flinging his arms around Gaara’s shoulders and crying into his neck, “Thank you, my most precious friend!”

“It’s okay, Lee,” Gaara says in a low tone, bringing his arms to wrap around Lee’s waist after only a moment of hesitation. His fingers dig into Lee’s back and he whispers, “I like you too.”

At this, Lee’s heart flutters hard in his chest, though he is not entirely sure why. Peculiar. He ignores it and stays in Gaara’s arms for perhaps a beat too long; the red haired boy is warm, afterall.

3. Shikamaru and Temari

It is a sunny day; Lee finds himself running laps on the trail near his apartment that wraps around a little meadow. He cannot quite seem to find the will to stop, the sun is shining, the flowers are blooming and the sweet burn in his muscles has him energized for days! He could run forever! Or, perhaps more realistically, for another two miles.

On his third lap he watches as Shikamaru and Temari throw a blanket on the ground and then settle under a tree, Shikamaru with his back pressed up against its bark and Temari flat on the ground, head resting in his lap. It’s cute, the way Shikamaru’s fingertips trace over her shoulders lazily as she talks but it leaves Lee wondering. Would it feel nice to have someone draw shapes into his skin? Would it be nice to press secrets with his fingers back in return?

By his sixth lap the pair have changed position, now Temari sits against the tree with Shikamaru in her lap, his hair undone so she can comb through it with her fingers and scratch at his scalp. It stops Lee in his tracks because it has never occurred to him to switch off like that. It is so, so, reciprocal. Stumbling over to the two on exercise-wobbly legs, he drops down in the grass waving a brief hello.

“Hey, Lee,” Temari smiles at him, nudging Shikamaru roughly on the shoulder when all he does is grunt in response.

“Yeah, hi, whatever,” he mumbles, eyes still closed, one arm stretched out against the length of Temari’s leg so he can wrap his fingers around her ankle, thumb rubbing slow, soft circles into the skin there.

“Hi, Temari! Hi, Shikamaru!” he greets back, smiling wide at the two of them. And though he meant to just approach them for some friendly conversation, he finds himself unable to look away from Temari’s fingers threaded in Shikamaru’s hair. He wonders if Gaara would pet his hair that nicely. He wonders why he wonders that in the first place. Odd.

“You alright, Lee?” she asks, bringing one hand up to wave in front of his face.

“Hm?” he blinks at her, eyes widening as he perks back up, “Oh, yes! I am excellent! I am thriving in this sunlight, exercising is the food that brings youthful energy to life!”

“Yeah...” Temari agrees, trailing off as her eyebrows knit together, “Just seems like maybe you were thinking about something, is all.”

“Well,” he begins, picking at the grass in front of his crossed legs, “I wish to know how you...do it.”

“Do it?” Temari asks, voice lowering as she squints at Lee. Shikamaru, who seems not to have paid this conversation any attention, makes a little noise of displeasure when her hand stops moving. She begins again, fingers combing slowly through his hair as she asks, “What do you mean?”

“How do you partake in a relationship such as yours, one of the most highly honorably nature, two youthful hearts, combining as one to form a whole new-”

“Alright, alright, loverboy, I get it,” Temari waves off, laughing at the righteous look on Lee’s face. Then she starts nudging Shikamaru’s shoulders, poking him until his eyes blink open, “I know you were listening, stop being lazy and answer Lee’s question.”

“Hm,” Shikamaru sighs, closing his eyes again and settling further into Temari’s lap. He pauses for so long Lee has a slight fear that he has fallen asleep, but then the man’s lips twist and he shrugs, “It’s just, like...you know.”

Before Lee can carefully remind Shikamaru that he does not know, that is why he is asking the question in the first place, Temari is poking him again, snapping, “No, Shikamaru, I don’t know. What’s it like to be in love with me? Hint, really think about this before you answer.”

“It’s just like, everything in life is such a drag, you know? Work, school, dealing with people,” Shikamaru lists off slowly, though Lee wants to argue with him (he loves working and school and he loves dealing with people!), but then his hand moves up and, without even opening his eyes, he feels out Termari’s forearm all the way down to her hand and threads their fingers together loosely and Lee finds himself transfixed on the action, “But being with Temari is just, the only thing that’s not a drag.”

Temari laughs and although her voice is smug, Lee can see the blush that stains her cheeks, “I guess you can answer right sometimes, genius.”

“Oh,” Lee says, closing his eyes to think about what Shikamaru really means. Lee just needs to find someone who is better than everything else he loves. He thinks of a shock of red hair and all the nights he spent convincing Gaara to watch a cartoon movie over horror. And all the times Gaara had let him, “I see.”

They’re quiet after that, but Lee just has one more question. He sits up straighter and asks, “Temari-san?”

“Yes, Lee?”

“Do you think Gaara considers me a drag?” he asks, eyes still focused on the ground, fingers twitching around blades of grass, “You are his sister, after all.”

“Oh, honey,” Temari says, deliberately making her voice softer as she reaches out, hand letting go of Shikamaru’s to hold on to Lee’s, “It’s hard to tell what Gaara is thinking but I guarantee he doesn’t think you’re a drag.”

“Fantastic!” Lee shouts, jumping to his feet, “Then, in the springtime of my youth, I will-”

“Alright, alright,” Shikamaru interrupts, without opening his eyes, “Go find your boy already,”

Lee is not sure why Shikamaru called Gaara that, if he is being honest. He is also not sure why he likes it so much. Either way it makes the pit of his belly feel warm and tingly.

He finds Gaara in the parking lot outside of his apartment. Sitting on the curb, hunched over, reading a book for class. Lee skids to a stop in front of him, hands on his hips as he yells, “Gaara! What are you doing sitting on the ground?”

“Protecting my sanity,” Gaara responds without looking up, finger carefully turning the page of his book.

“Sanity?” Lee asks, cocking his head to the side, watching the fading sunlight dance rouge in Gaara’s hair.

“Kiba is upstairs with Kankuro,” Gaara replies, finally meeting Lee’s eyes with a grimace, “They are loud.”

“We should tell them to be quiet then! They must be respectful of your space even if they share it! It is not polite to-”

“It’s alright, Lee,” Gaara all but hisses and then pats his hand flat on the curb next to him once, “Sit.”

Lee sits, closer than he had truly aimed for, close enough that their shoulders and thighs brush together warmly. Gaara is always so warm, “Gaara-kun?”

“Yes, Lee?”

“I do not think you are a drag!” Lee announces, face drawn together seriously when Gaara turns to look at him, “There are some things that I do not enjoy but above all else I value our time together.”

Gaara stares at him, expression unchanging for too long, long enough that something dark and unwanted begins to whirl in Lee’s stomach, but then his hand is reaching out, brushing the hair out of Lee’s face as he says, “I’m glad.”

His hand stays on Lee’s face longer than necessary but Lee finds himself unwilling to pull away. Instead, he allows Gaara to slowly, ever so slowly, run a thumb along his cheek and pet his hair, leaning in to Gaara’s every feather light touch. It is nicer than he thought it would be.

“And Lee?” Gaara asks, pulling his hand away but leaning his shoulder heavily against Lee’s own, “I value our time as well.”

4. Naruto and Sasuke

Lee has been sitting outside of his class for about twenty minutes. He has a break between classes that he usually fills with other things, but today he is not busy or hungry, so he is patiently waiting for his class to begin. And in this entire time, Naruto has been pacing up and down the hallway, in a building which Lee is almost positive his friend has never stepped foot in before, muttering angrily to himself.

“I don’t know why Ebisu-sensei wouldn’t just let me sit in on the class, it’s not like I would be getting credit for it, I mean who cares!” Naruto half shouts for the tenth time, throwing his arms up in the air, “That closetted pervert has it out for me, Bushy Brows, I know he does.”

“I am sure it is nothing like that, Naruto,” Lee reassures, watching his friend pace, “And, Naruto-san, it is quite rude to call a sensei a ‘closetted pervert.’”

“Well, he is one!”

“Still,” Lee says and then shakes his head, opting to change the subject, “Why do you need to get in there so bad anyways? You do not have class in this building.”

“Sasuke is in there,” Naruto snaps and already Lee is nodding along. He does not even need the rest of the explanation if he is being honest; all he needed to hear was Sasuke, “And he has this big presentation that he was all worried about and I just want to support him!”

“Support him?” Lee asks, frowning, “Why does Sasuke need your support?”

“Because he’s my boyfriend,” Naruto says, stopping to frown right back at Lee, “And that’s what you do when you’re dating someone, Lee. Yeesh, haven’t you ever had a girlfriend?”

“No, I have not,” Lee shakes his head.

“Boyfriend?”

“I have not had a boyfriend either,” Lee says, looking at Naruto with wide, earnest eyes.

“Oh,” Naruto stares at him, looking stunned, “You mean you and Gaara-”

“Gaara is one of my most precious friends!” Lee announces, cheeks warming at just the thought.

“Huh,” Naruto sighs, walking over to sit next to Lee on the bench, “Well. Well, when you date someone, Bushy Brows, you’re going to want to be there for them. Like...Like help them when they need help, be a shoulder to cry on, all that stuff.

“And be there when they have to give big presentations, if only pervy senseis would-” Naruto is half way through his rant, fist still waving in the air when Sasuke Uchiha walks out of the auditorium and into the hall.

He looks incredibly nonplussed to Lee, blowing the hair out of his face and leaning against the wall, “Hey loser, what are you still doing here?”

“Sasuke!” Naruto yells, on his feet in a flash. He takes in the way Sasuke is holding himself, the nonchalance, the smug look on his face, and suddenly he’s running to the dark haired boy and throwing his arms around him, “I knew you’d kill your presentation, Sasuke, I don’t know why you were so worried, you’re one of the smartest people I know, I mean how could anyone else in there even dream of-”

“Naruto!” Sasuke shouts, eyes flickering to Lee as he shoves Naruto off of him, brushing his hands down his shirt to straighten it, “I wasn’t worried.”

“You were!” Naruto shouts right back, arms reaching out for Sasuke again. His hands land on Sasuke’s shoulders, gripping them tight as he begins to excitedly reiterate, “We practiced all night, but you didn’t even need it! It was perfect from the get go, but I know you were worried so I tried to be there for you but that-”

“Naruto!” Sasuke snaps again, cutting him off with an angry shout, but his cheeks are pink and his hands are rested firmly on Naruto’s hips even if he’s still keeping a distance between them, “You’re so embarrassing.”

“Sasuke!” Naruto says, throwing his head back, half defeated, half angry, “Why won’t you ever let me support you?!”

“I do, I do, shut up, okay?” Sasuke snaps, but it’s softer this time, almost like he’s consoling Naruto. His eyes glance at Lee one more time, like he’s embarrassed about doing this in front of someone, before he pulls Naruto in for a real hug, fingers gripping hard at his back as he whispers, nearly too quiet for Lee to hear, “Thank you.”

“You don’t have to thank me, that’s what I’m here for,” Naruto mumbles sullenly against Sasuke’s hair.

“I know, I know, I’m sorry,” Sasuke laughs, pushing his face against Naruto’s, “You know.”

“I know,” Naruto nods, pulling back to smile at Sasuke, “I love you too.”

Sasuke’s face contracts strangely, like he’s desperately holding back a smile. Once he gets it smoothed out again, he nods forward and asks, “Hey loser, you want to go get ramen?”

“Loser? Loser? After everything I just did for you Sasuke, and you’re going to call me-”

“I’ll buy.”

“...” Naruto’s silence is often more telling than his yelling and Lee can see from his face that he is cracking, “Alright, but only because you know ramen is my weakness.”

“Yeah, yeah, let’s go,” Sasuke’s voice is bored but his fingers thread with Naruto’s as he drags him through the halls.

Support. Lee nods to himself and considers the obvious importance of the idea. It may look a little strange coming from Naruto and Sasuke, but he is sure this is an idea he can use to his advantage!

He’s at Gaara’s apartment that night, again, watching a horror movie that he does not understand, nor particularly care to, when he sits up, twisting sharply to look at Gaara, “If you need a shoulder to cry on, I am here!”

“I...” Gaara begins, eyebrows twitching together as he stares at Lee, “I don’t usually cry during scary movies.”

“Oh,” Lee says, trying to think back to what Naruto had told him, “Well, if you have a presentation to give, I will be there to watch!”

“You have your own classes, Lee,” Gaara gently reminds him, still looking mostly confused.

“That is...factual,” Lee consents, looking down at his hands in his lap, “I want to help you when you need help.”

“Help?” Gaara asks, bewildered. Lee just nods, ignoring the odd ache that settles just below his heart and smiling when Gaara reaches forward to grab one of Lee’s hands in his own and says, “Of course.”

“Huh?” Lee asks, looking back up at his friend. Gaara’s eyes are wide and his fingers pet gently against Lee’s hands before he reaches out to pull him back in completely against him. Once Gaara has settled Lee against his chest, he strokes his fingers against Lee’s shoulder, his arm, and says, “I accept your offer. And I would like to...extend one of my own.”

“You want to support me?” Lee asks, cheeks hot from the words.

“Yes, Lee,” Gaara nods, “I always do.”

5. Tenten and Neji

Lee and Tenten have been workshopping their project for Guy-sensei’s class for the last three hours when Neji walks in. He doesn’t say a word, just offers a nod at Lee, sets a steaming coffee in front of Tenten, leans down to press a kiss against her forehead and then turns to walk away.

Lee is baffled. Who visits their girlfriend without saying a single word! He says as much to Neji, calling after him as he walks away. Neji turns, hair draping around his shoulders and raises one eyebrow at Tenten.

“Alright, we’ll take a break,” Tenten sighs, pulling out the seat next to her and patting it, “Come over here, you snob.”

To anyone else, Neji’s face might look neutral but Lee has known him far too long for that; he can tell the long haired boy is incredibly pleased to slip into the seat next to his girlfriend.

“I still do not understand,” Lee begins, looking between the two of them, “He did not say a single word to you!”

“Am I allowed to speak now?” Neji asks coyly, the corner of his lips turning up as he side eyes Tenten.

“Yes, Neji, you’re allowed to speak,” Tenten sighs, rolling her eyes before turning back to Lee, “When we first started dating, I was camped out here working on a killer midterm and Neji came to check on me. It was sweet at first. Then he just. Kept. Coming. Back.”

“You had practically moved into the library,” Neji counters, resting his hands gently on the table in front of him, “I thought I needed to come visit you. Check your sanity and make sure someone was feeding you.”

“All you did was distract me!” she argues, turning to glare at him.

“You were in here an alarming amount!” Neji explains, “Even Hinata was worried.”

“Hinata is worried about everyone all the time, Neji,” Tenten rolls her eyes again while Neji just smiles fondly.

“Yes, well, she’s a very caring person, you can’t fault her for that.”

“Oh, she’s not the one I was furious with that day,” Tenten laughs and then turns back to Lee, “After about the tenth check up, I screamed at him. In the library. In front of everyone.”

“She told me if I didn’t leave her presence immediately, she would cut off my hair and use it to chain me to the bike racks,” Neji laughs, brushing his hands through his hair like he’s checking it’s still there.

“I would never have done it,” Tenten says, reaching out her own hand to run through his hair as well, “I like your hair too much.”

“Well, now you see Lee, if I want to check on her, I am only allowed to drop a coffee off and leave,” Neji explains, smiling mutley at his girlfriend, “No additional contact.”

“When I’m busy, I’m busy,” Tenten shrugs.

“But I thought,” Lee starts, confused as he looks between the two of them, “Naruto told me when you are dating someone, you are supposed to support them.”

“And this is how I support her,” Neji nods, “Or how I was so nicely trying to before you pulled me back.”

“Nice, shmice,” Tenten laughs, nudging Neji with her shoulder, “You just owe me for last weekend when I carried you piggyback all the way up the hill after you sprained your ankle.”

“Yes, well,” Neji says, cheeks pink, “That was you supporting me.”

“So, with Gaara, how do I, am I supposed to...” Lee trails off, trying to process this new information.

“With Gaara?” Tenten asks, raising both of her eyebrows at Lee.

“Well, yes,” Lee nods, “Kankuro told me love is a hassle but that it is nice, Kakashi-sensei told be to nice things for my beloved, Shikamaru said to be with someone you enjoy and you and Naruto are both telling me to support but in completely different ways. How do I use all of those with Gaara?”

“Are you...” Neji starts, looking gently at his friend, “Are you dating Gaara?”

“Dating? Of course not!” Lee remarks, frowning at the two of them, “He is my most precious friend!”

“But Lee,” Tenten leans forward, one hand reaching out for Lee’s, “Do you want to date him?”

“We are friends, Tenten,” Lee argues, furrowing his eyebrows.

“But you want to support him and be with him,” Neji tries to explain, “The way couples do.”

“Don’t you like spending time with him?” Tenten asks, “Without everyone else around?”

“Yes, of course!” Lee says, “We have a very deep bond!”

“Mhmm,” Tenten agrees, “You do. And you like holding hands. And cuddling. And you like taking care of him. But you don’t want to date him?”

“I have never even thought about it because it is-” Lee cuts himself off, thinking about how much he wanted Gaara to pet his hair, how he wants to be there for Gaara always, how he wants to run his fingers through red hair and wake up in warm arms and “Oh!”

“Lee?” Tenten asks, squeezing his hand in hers, “You got it?”

“He got it,” Neji confirms next to her, the two of them staring at Lee’s still shocked face.

“I want to date Gaara!” Lee shouts, standing abruptly from the table, placing both hands flat against its surface as he stares excitedly at his friends, “I like Gaara! I really like Gaara!”

“He got it!” Tenten and Neji chant, throwing their arms up to wrap around him as he jitters from excitement.

“Tenten,” He begins, pulling away, “I know this project is very important, and I want to stay and complete it but-”

“Go get your man,” Tenten waves away, moving to help him gather all of his belongings, whisper-shouting after him as he runs out of the library, “Have fun, Lee!”

Lee bangs on Gaara’s door perhaps a bit too aggressively, one hand holding a small bundle of flowers he had picked along the way while the other slams against the door, but he cannot contain himself and this new information which resonates so clearly with him now. It makes sense, now that he thinks about it; the warmth he feels whenever Gaara looks at him, the way his fingers long to press shapes into Gaara’s skin, the way his bottom lip always seems to distract Lee when he speaks.

“What the hell?” Kankuro shouts as he opens the door, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes (even though it is four in the afternoon) and glaring at Lee.

“Hello, Kankuro-san!” Lee rushes, eyes glancing over Kankuro’s shoulder, “Is Gaara home?”

“He’s-”

“Hello, Lee,” Gaara speaks quietly from behind Kankuro, taking a step closer as Kankuro rolls his eyes dramatically and stomps away, “Would you like to come inside?”

“No!” Lee chants and then hurries to correct himself when he sees Gaara’s fingers curl uncomfortably tighter around the door frame, “I do! Just not yet!

“Gaara,” he begins, trying again, “I wish to support you and protect you and be with you until the day I die!”

“Lee,” Gaara very nearly gasps. It’s more of a shocked whisper, but the closest to a gasp Lee thinks he’s ever heard from the smaller man.

“Be my boyfriend!” Lee shouts, barrelling through with his impromptu speech. He flashes a bright smile and shoves the flowers in Gaara’s direction, “You already are, and have always been, my most precious friend! But now I wish for you to be my most precious person and for I to be your most precious in return.

“I understand if you do not return the sentiment,” Lee continues when Gaara just stares at him quietly, pushing the flowers even closer to him, “But I thought I should let you know that every shudder of my heart is for you, and every breath I-”

Lee is cut off by Gaara, taking two swift steps forward and placing his hands on either side of Lee’s face. Fingers brushing against Lee’s brow bone, and eyes staring into Lee’s own, he has never felt this caught out before. He has never felt this right. Gaara leans in and tugs Lee down in one action, bumping their foreheads together, their noses and whispering, “Lee. You were already my most precious person.”

And then Lee gets to experience soft lips against his own, to breathe the same air and press flowers into Gaara’s hip, to feel his warm hands still hard and immovable on Lee’s face, but rubbing gentle circles into the skin there with his thumbs.

“Do you accept my offer?” Lee asks, voice quiet when he pulls back, not far because it feels like if he steps out of Gaara’s warm embrace now he is liable to freeze, but just far enough to speak, lips brushing against the skin above Gaara’s lips with every word.

“Lee,” Gaara actually smiles now and bumps his nose playfully against Lee’s, “I want nothing more than to be by your side, as long as you’ll have me. Of course I accept your offer.”

Lee’s heart flutters in his chest and his veins tingle with excitement and he thinks this must be what love feels like as he presses endearments into Gaara’s chin, his eyelids, his cheeks, revelling in the breathy laugh that earns him in return.

“Wow,” Kankuro snipes from behind them, sitting on the counter with his feet dangling in the air, watching all of this play out in front of him, “That was so sweet, I might puke. Y’all are nasty.”

“But the purity of love, Kankuro-san! It is here and-”

+1 Lee and Gaara

Lee’s leg bounces under his desk, jittering erratically as he tries in vain to listen to Guy-sensei. This is his favorite class and his favorite professor and yet he finds himself completely unfocused, checking his watch for text messages every ten seconds and then checking his phone just to make sure.

If it wasn’t for the storm.

Tenten throws an elbow into his side and whispers, “Lee, shush!” when he begins tapping his fingers on the desk.

“I cannot help it, Tenten!” Lee whispers back, fingers still acting on their own accord. Without looking up from the board, Tenten’s hand flies out, grabbing onto Lee’s and threading their fingers together. And squeezing. Hard. He freezes all of his movements then and she lets the pressure drop but keeps her hold on his hand as she continues to write down everything Guy-sensei says.

Lee renews his efforts to focus, but quickly finds himself looking at the analogue clock behind Guy-sensei’s head, looking down at his watch, then again at his phone. Worries about how Gaara should have landed by now. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat. Repe-

The second Lee’s phone starts buzzing in his lap, he is out of his chair and power walking to the door, ignoring Guy-sensei’s shout of, “Lee! Where are you going?”

“Sorry, Guy-sensei!” he shouts back right before shutting the door behind him and answering the phone.

“Hello?” he answers, “Gaara? My precious lotus leaf?”

“Lee,” a voice hisses into his ear, because even after seven months Gaara is still embarrassed by Lee’s more colorful pet names for him.

“Was your flight okay?” Lee asks, ignoring Gaara’s half-annoyed, half amused huff, “The storm started just after you left, I’ve been so worried all day.”

“There was some...turbulence but-”

“Turbulence?” Lee very nearly shrieks in the quiet hallway, voice echoing around him.

“Yes, turbulence, Lee,” Gaara affirms, “Temari and I are fine, though, we have our bags and are heading home now.”

“Okay,” Lee nods but he still wishes Gaara was here so he could look him over and then pull him in close. He wishes Gaara had just waited another week to fly home so that they could have been on the same flight.

“And next week, you, Shikamru, Kankuro and Kiba will all fly out here together,” Gaara reminds him softly, “And I will be there to pick you up at the gate.”

“Yeah,” Lee smiles. He has never been to Suna (though he’s not sure he’s ever particularly wanted to go there. So hot) so when Gaara had asked him to come home for winter break with him he had jumped at the opportunity. He had not wanted to be separated for Gaara long anyways, “I am excited.”

“As am I, dear one,” Gaara says into the phone, unaware of how it makes Lee’s entire body feel jittery and alive, “But you should get back to class.”

“But Gaara-”

“You have a final on Friday, Lee,” Gaara reminds him, while Lee pouts, back leaned against the wall, “Go back to class. Call me when you get out, okay?”

“Okay,” Lee nods and angles his body back towards the classroom door, “I love you.”

“I love you too, Lee,” Gaara replies. It’s soft and reserved and Lee can tell just by the tone that Gaara is smiling around the words. Lee hangs up the phone with a long suffering sigh and walks back into the classroom as casual as possible, ambling quietly to his seat.

“Lee!” Guy-sensei calls out, hands on his hips as he frowns down at his star pupil, “What was that all about?”

“Sorry, Guy-sensei!” Lee shouts back, posture straightening. But when he can’t keep the smile from lingering on his face when he says, “That was my boyfriend. His flight took off right before it started storming. He is alright though!”

He hears a couple ‘awws’ from around the room and blushes, sitting down carefully in his seat and trying to ignore the burning heat in his cheeks, head whipping up when he hears a scoff from the other side of the small room.

“Nice to know you got a ten minute call,” Kankuro snarks, “I’m his brother and all I got was a text that says ‘I’m alive stop bothering me.’”

Lee gasps, horrified at the brusqueness of his boyfriend, “I will remind him to be more considerate with his favorite brother!”

“I’m his only brother,” Kankuro laughs.

“But you are still very dear to him, Kankuro-san!” Lee defends, eyes round and sincere as he stares at Kankuro, “I know he values you most highly!”

Kankuro’s face twitches oddly, looking at Lee like he can’t believe what the man is saying before he softens and smiles and says, “Yeah. Thanks, Lee.”

“Alright, alright, enough with the chit chat. Time to pay attention to the most important person in the room,” Guy-sensei calls out, turning his nose up, “Me.”

a/n based on this post

#gaalee #kankiba #kakairu #shikatema #sasunaru #nejiten #gaara #rock lee #knkauro #kiba inuzuka #kakashi hitake #iruka umino #sasuke uchiha #naruto uzumaki #neji hyuga #tenten #might guy #naruto #kacockshi

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cherr-e · 4 years

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𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐓 | based in 18th century Korea - JOSEON.

❝ You were never meant to live for love, ranks and hierarchy mattered the most. Prince Lee Taeyong was at the top of the hierarchy, he was the youngest out of four brothers. He knew he was not made for the throne and lived his life away from the epicentre of Joseon, in peace with his poems and music. Yet the son of his father’s respected friend peaks his interest in what he would later on define as love. ❞

DISCLAIMER ⚠️ this is an alternate universe of the ship OLIYONG. this is a piece of fiction, and does not refer to any location or individual throughout this mini-series from start to finish. this is not a historical or documentary work and is purely made for entertainment.

[...] means a soundtrack that would sound nice in the scene, similar to a movie.

masterlist | episode one:- we’ve become part of the past.

The petals of cherry blossoms swayed underneath the hands of the wind, it was the end of another spring which meant Prince Taeyong had to attend to his seasonal visits at the main palace. The place where he spent most of his childhood and teen years, trapped and lost. His brothers busy competing to become better than the other and that was why he had now resided to the countryside. Away from his royal duties, and only payed respect to his father.

A few days and he’d be home again, busy humming along to his poems and music while he played to the young children of the small village he resided in. “How long will you stay here?” His right-wing man, Taeil, spoke up after throwing back a shot of rice wine from the local bar they frequented in Hanyang - the capital of Joseon. “I don’t really know, probably for two days. There’s nothing interesting about my family’s lives. Same old shit, brothers fighting over who’s the better royal. Don’t even get me started on their wives.” Taeyong rolled his eyes at the thought of those evil gossipers. They probably wondered why he wasn’t wed yet, making up rumours that he would bed men of the countryside.

Well he did have an open opinion towards love, but at the same time believed love was for the weak. It was something his family would use against him, if he ever felt that emotion begin to wrap its fingers around his mind - he would push it to the ends of the earth and forget it in his tattered books. “You’re dozing off again.” Taeil munched on the anju served with the alcohol - “I’m already thinking of heading home.” Taeyong sighed, his eyes shining with sadness and regret. This was how it was with every seasonal visit, he was reminded of how boring his life was. A life many strived for, but he felt like his opinions did not align with society. Not anymore at least.

An hour had passed, Taeil taking it slow with his alcohol yet his superior had downed two bottles of rice wine and soju, forgetting about the busy day ahead of him tomorrow. The royal prince looked sad whenever he was drunk, the walls he built around himself after all these years tumbled after a sip of alcohol. A lost young frail boy, with big shining eyes that yearned for a new life - his face was clean-shaven, sparse from any form of facial hair. He looked more like a young naive boy despite being in his twenties and having his fair share of problems.

[ ... lover’s first ]

“Let’s head back to the palace Taeil-ssi.” Taeyong slurred, cheeks pink and puffy. “I’ll pay for the alcohol. Wait for me at the entrance.” Moon Taeil smiled softly while his friend scurried off to where he would stand, but the sound of a loud performance had dragged his tired body towards the buzz of the street. Like a moth to a flame. He was enraptured by the sounds of Hanyang at night, lost in the midst of crowds, he was normal and he probably looked like a useless drunkard to others. It was the buzz of the night that drove Taeyong’s adrenaline, he swam in the crowd. Wind hitting his face as the cold night began to dance between the people. Soon, droplets of rain had fallen on his face - pitter patter they fell. Droplets became a light drizzle, some of the crowds ran to seek shelter and the business men sprinted to protect their stands from getting wet.

Being lost in the crowds brought euphoria to his melancholic soul, losing concentration of reality lead to him slipping on the wet floor and bumping into a taller large build. Papers and brushes scattered across the ground, soaking in the water from the skies. Taeyong helped pick up the mess he created, apologising quickly as he repeated “sorry” a billion times. The artist grinned, finding the younger man’s drunk state slightly amusing.

“You draw well.” He handed the artist the last painting. “Thank you.” The man had a deeper voice, slightly rough with an accent hidden at the end of the two words he spoke. “You sound like you’re not from Hanyang.” Taeyong pointed out, the rain still continuing its assault on the strangers “you could say that.” He smiled again, this time it made Taeyong’s heart pick up its pace.

The stranger was a very handsome man, who looked to be in his mid twenties, the tan skin and accent meant he was probably from a place further east but the hanbok he wore looked to be made of the finest of materials imported from China and made by well-known tailors who served the rich. It was dark purple, the sleeves and trousers black - disagreeing with the season that had just recently arrived in Joseon. Taeyong pondered, the artist looked like someone who did not conform to society as the colours he wore did not represent summer at all. Despite the smile and the kind demeanour the stranger had shown off to the Prince, sad souls recognised one another because the sleepless nights lay beneath their eyes, and the colours of summer did not break their cries.

Kim Minjae grabbed his soaked painting from the delicate hands of the drunkard in front of him. The drawings were most likely ruined, but it wasn’t like anyone was going to view his work - he was the son of one of the highest ranking war generals in the country, he was trained to battle for the worse. Not to paint foolish moments he found appealing that weakened a part of his soul, he hated being talented in the arts.

“I’ll be off then.” Minjae chuckled, and Taeyong nodded his head - he wanted to ask for the artists’ name, but he kept quite and stepped aside. “It was nice meeting you Mr Drunkard.” He spoke one last time, and Taeyong watched as the man drowned in the ambiance of the night. The rain still continued, and Taeyong was soaking wet yet he felt very high. That buzz of adrenaline, it was still swimming in his bloodstream, his heart reached to his ears, was it excitement? Curiosity because to that tall man? The rain and alcohol?

He was hoping the reason for his body to be so awake was of something stupid and not because of that broken artist. The last thing he needed were feelings for a sorrowful stranger.

“I heard the servants watched you come in late last night.” Minjae halted at the sound of his father’s stern lifeless voice. He cleared his throat and said, “I went out for some air and got carried away a little bit,” he remembered the table manners he had learnt a few months back. Never eat when conversing with someone older than you.

“Did you draw anything?” General Kim picked up rice with his chopsticks and chewed on it slowly. He never looked his son in the eye ever, Minjae did not know why, He preferred looking at nature instead of his stupid useless son. “No father. I haven’t drawn in a long time.”

His father grunted in acknowledgement: “well done.” They sat in silence, the sound of utensils hitting against the expensive bowls and plates. Breakfast always consisted of a silent father, Minjae still did not why his father had shown up a few years back in the countryside he grew up in. The expensive clothing, the sleek black horse and the small army that were behind his father - it was a different world to Minjae then, he was used to ragged clothes, playing with the country kids and singing along to their lullabies, drawing whatever he found pretty and appreciating small things. That life was over now, and he had a new future - a better one.

“His Majesty, the King would like to meet you today, he wants to see how well you fair off on the battlefield and has invited us to sparring with his sons. All four of them. Do well.” General Kim stood up from the table, the servants bowing as he passed by them. Kim Minjae stopped chewing, and threw his chopsticks on the table - not a single goodbye, like its always been.

The journey to the palace was slightly embarrassing, he wore the finest of clothes his father had brought him - a light blue hanbok with white trousers and white sleeves. He looked soft, happy even from the exterior which only mattered to the king. The commoners marvelled at his looks, he was slightly shy at the compliments and the fawning girls. He was not used to this, he hated being underneath the spotlight - the centre of the crowd.

Now his father and Minjae bowed down to the King in front of them, he wore his red and golden robes and smiled at the sight of Minjae. “He looks strong Manshik-ssi.” The King had a hoarse voice, like death was just around the corner, a long grey beard that reached mid-way to his neck was adorned on his face, wrinkled skin that had aged over the years.

Minjae lifted his head up after the King had ordered him to and he gave a smile, “it’s a pleasure to meet you, your Majesty.” The King chuckled, and turned to his sons. “These are my four sons, if I see you worthy today you may be defending Joseon with them one day.” He spoke proudly, and waited for the warrior to introduce himself.

Taeyong was gobsmacked, annoyed maybe, he wanted to curse the skies. Scream even but he was curious, “It’s a pleasure to meet you all your Royal Highnesses, my name is Kim Minjae and one day I wish to be your loyal consort and friend in the nearby future.”

[ ... the artists’ lullaby ]

“Minjae. Kim Minjae was the artists’ name,” the professor turned to his students after writing up the name on the large chalkboard. “He was one of the greatest artists of the Joseon period, you could even say he was ahead of his time with the portraits and drawings of nature. Instead of following fellow artists, with inspiration from the Chinese, his work resembled European art.”

He clicked his projector remote and showed the countless pieces that Minjae hated, “historians say that he hated his art so much after becoming rich, and despised whoever viewed his art. Apart from one, the fourth prince and son of King Do-hun. Lee Taeyong. Some say they were close friends while others believed they were lovers, the poems Taeyong wrote after he had met Minjae were self-explanatory.” The class chuckled, and the professor smiled.

Minjae and Taeyong’s love had become part of history.

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thenightling · 3 years

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Opinion on the rioters who dressed as The Punisher

Opinion on the Rioters dressed as The Punisher:

I recently found out some of the Capitol rioters were dressed as The Punisher from Marvel comics. Do I blame the character? No. However, i have become very cautious in regard to hardcore fans of the character and not merely over this.

First, I admit, I never really liked The Punisher as a character. I thought of him as an edgy byproduct of comics gradually shifting to being darker and grittier. He was one of the first heroes to not preach about justice and redemption but instead wanted to kill. He was not a protagonist. He started as a villain in the Amazing Spider-Man comics. Stan Lee had not liked the character. (This is a fact that is easily checked and Googled).

In the late 80s and early 90s he became very popular as comics became darker and so he was given his own comic and appeared more often and often as a protagonist anti-hero.

I never liked the concept of him. Sure, he had a sympathetic backstory but the “Killing is the only answer” never sat right for me. The lack of mercy he showed even to the repentant, it always bothered me. I got that he was supposed to be mentally-ill but in his own comics his behavior was, far too often, justified.

Other media tried to mimic the character. The Ben Affleck Daredevil behaved more like The Punisher than Daredevil. Instead of a defense attorney he was now a prosecutor. And if he lost a case he would hunt down the criminal and kill him, brutally. There’s one scene where he severs a man’s spine and then gloats as a train comes to hit him, as he lays paralyzed on the track. That’s not Matt.

Ben Affleck again played totally-not-Punisher in his portrayal of Batman. A gun-using batman that was loosely inspired by Frank Miller. And all the Zack Snyder Fanboys came crawling out of the woodwork, insisting that this was “realistic” and “more accurate to the comics” and “but look, he killed in these old comics!” They either were lying by omission or didn’t know about Crisis on Infinite Earths and how main continuity Batman had been anti-gun and anti-killing since at least 1985. The entire plot of Alan Moore’s The Killing Joke was based on this established lore.

There’s no doubt Punisher has had a serious influence on popculture and something I called Darkity, dark, dark writing or as others have named it: “Edgelord.”

It’s a sort of “dark and gritty” “realism” popular among boys between the ages of eleven and fifteen who genuinely think crime would end if we shot every criminal and don’t realize that most real world police officers have never drawn their gun, despite what you might see in the news. If murder truly was the norm, people wouldn’t still be horrified by it.

Now on to the fans. There are far too many Punisher fans who think he was and is in the right. They think he is an aspirational figure to admire and look up to. A “realistic” hero by Zack Snyder standards, because hope and mercy are what is apparently unrealistic in a world consisting of aliens, Greek Gods, witchcraft, and even the folkloric Sandman (That’s in DC, not Marvel though Nightmare is arguably the Marvel equivalent).

I used to be Facebook friends with a Punisher fan. He was equally obsessed with The Joker. At first i just let it be. You’re allowed to like edgy or dark characters. There’s no harm in that. But... he got creepy. He would quote the Joker in conversation about “SJWs” and “progressives.” He would say things like “My eyes were opened as yours soon will be.”

He was convinced liberals tried to ruin The Joker movie and posted pictures of the Joker dancing down the stairs with “HAHAHAHAHA! Suck my dick, Progressives!” in at least two of the facebook groups I run. It got embarrassing that when people would search for my Horror Comics group, the sample post Facebook gave was that one.

He kept talking about how both The Punisher and The Joker are right. His facebook picture would alternate between the two characters depending on his mood. He would post memes “explaining” why The Punisher is right.

He would post articles about this or that criminal being arrested and refer to them as “it” and “thing” and how “it should be tortured four hours before someone kills it.” things like that, about various people who did things that were (admittedly) horrific and reprehensible but he would go into graphic detail about what he wanted to do with them Very sadistic, Saw-like tortures before “Mercifully” killing them.

He once casually told me how he wanted to kill all progressives. I gently reminded him that I have liberal leanings and I got a “You’re different” sort of response.

As his behavior got more fanatical and disturbing, the more uncomfortable I became. After the progressives threat I made the mistake of telling someone who was mutually friends with us both that I felt threatened. Needless to say the one I have just described to you called me a liar, insisted he never said anything threatening. And accused me of being “one of them.”

I told him he had been acting increasingly strangely and needed to stop posting the pro-Joker stuff. And it wasn’t just the film The Joker. It was the version from Gotham (TV series) he tried to emulate and praised. A woman celebrity he didn’t like was soon being called “It.” Then some feminist (I didn’t agree with this person) was saying how The Mandalorian didn’t have enough female characters or diversity and should be canceled. It was some stupid opinion piece published by a site like Buzzfeed or Io9 during the first season of Mandalorian.

This guy was very conservative but had a bad habit of seeking out fanatical articles like this to make himself angry. The only time I ever agreed with him on the matter was when he came to my defense for not liking the 2016 Ghostbusters. Someone in my own Gothic Horror Facebook group had decided to call me a self-loathing misogynist and insisted the only reason I didn’t like it is because the characters were women. No, I don’t like slapstick comedy. I didn’t like that they didn’t bother to use real parapsychology or theoretical physics (as the original had done). I didn’t like that the “genius” of the group licked her proton blaster and that was the common promo image for the film. I didn’t like that people who praised the film entirely forgot that there was a diverse team lead by a woman in the 90s. (Extreme Ghostbusters). I didn’t like that they destroyed ghosts instead of trapped them. That violates the law of conservation and most spiritual beliefs as even being possible. It was just a bad movie.

I agreed with him on that one but when this anti-Mandalorian article came out he went too far. He insisted the woman who wrote it should be dragged out into the street and shot. He called her “it” and “thing” and said she didn’t deserve to live . I told him he was going too far, and she couldn’t take the show away, that he was over reacting.

He then blocked me. I thought it was done and over with, then the Pandemic hit.

When the Pandemic happened he unblocked me and in a revisionist history of events insisted he had blocked me because I had “lied” and said he threatened me. No, he had told me he wanted to kill all progressives, knowing that I am one. And that was not why he blocked me. It was because I disagreed about his death threats about the writer of a Mandalorian article. He wanted to fight. He alternated between insulting me and trying to show how good he was to come to me during a world crisis, like he was doing me a favor. I blocked him this time.

That night my Facebook account was disabled. Someone had reported my account as not being a real person, and Facebook wanted photographic proof that I’m real. It was re-enabled as soon as I sent in a photo but as I don’t have a smartphone (I live in a deadzone) and I’m visually impaired it was a little bit of a pain. This was not something that had ever happened to me before. And I had witnessed this Punisher fan report accounts of those he wanted to “punish” before.

And now I find out some of these rioters were wearing Punisher shirts. So yes, I keep my guard up around Punisher fans.

Do I blame the character? No. Not really. If not him they would have found someone else to try to emulate and idolize. Getting rid of the character won’t get rid of this mentality. I never liked the character but I don’t want him banned. I would be happy if less people were obsessed with him. I would be happy if those obsessed with the character didn’t all remind me of the man I described here. I would be happy if fans of the character were more likely to say that they don’t agree with the character’s actions, they just like his story.

There’s nothing wrong in liking a character with problematic behavior. But if you can’t acknowledge that it’s wrong and instead glorify and romanticize the actions of the character, that’s the problem. I love lots of characters who do bad things. I love Count Dracula. I don’t intend to drink blood and sic wolves on people. And I have absolutely no interest in impalement.

I think far too many Punisher fans don’t realize he’s in the wrong, instead want to be like him, and have trouble separating fiction from reality. I do not blame the character. They would have found someone else if not him. But unfortunately, I AM starting to view hardcore / obsessively being a fan of The Punisher as a bit of a red flag considering how many of them behave this way...

#The Punisher #Marvel Comics #MCU #Marvel Cinematic Universe

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mst3kproject · 4 years

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Curse of Bigfoot

This is a very bad mummy movie from the 60’s which was re-edited and re-released as an unbelievably bad bigfoot movie in the 70’s. It would belong on the Satellite of Love even if it didn’t have a small part for Jackie Neyman Jones. Remember her? Debbie from Manos: the Hands of Fate? Yeah, as far as I know she’s the only member of the cast ever to do any non-Manos-related film work for the entire rest of her life and it was this.

Once upon a time, somewhere in the American Southwest, Primitive Man was terrorized by Even More Primitive Man. In modern times, a Bigfootology professor is giving a guest lecture to a class of students. First he shows them a clip of a movie just as bad as the one we’re watching, then we get an inaccurate history of bigfoot, including the tale of two idiots in a pickup truck who get a big, hairy ass-whooping. Then, half an hour into the movie, we finally get to what’s supposed to be the main plot. A professor of archaeology takes some of his students into the wilderness to help excavate an ‘ancient Indian campsite’, but along with the expected potsherds and prayer sticks, they find a tomb containing a mummy from a lost prehistoric civilization. It comes to life and shambles off into the forest to kill people, because it’s a movie and mummies do that.

This movie does not waste time. It starts sucking right out of the gate. Almost everything that’s going to be wrong with it is introduced in the first ten minutes, as if the movie wants to prepare us for the ordeal ahead.

The opening sequence is an incredibly drawn-out scene of a woman getting up in the middle of the night to calm her barking dog, only to be killed by a zombie that wanders out of the woods. This scene is around six times longer than it needed to be. We almost have to watch every moment of the dog drinking a bowl of milk she pours for it. The woman’s voice was dubbed in post, and neither the voice nor the physical acting is any good. The sequence is supposed to take place in the middle of the night, but was clearly filmed at high noon, reaching Attack of the The Eye Creatures levels of not giving a shit in having the sun appear in several shots, standing in for the moon! The actual attack happens off screen, because the film-makers could not afford effects.

Then this part ends, and we realize that what we just saw was supposed to be a clip from a horror film that the professor was showing his students. This provides a fleeting moment of hope, as we think perhaps its overwhelming badness was intended as parody. No such luck. We then move into the two loggers getting stalked and killed by bigfoot. The monster costume is different, but this piece is identical in anti-quality to the zombie scene. The film-makers were just morons, and these mistakes continue throughout the entire ninety-minute run time.

It’s actually astonishing that the movie is so consistent in its incompetence, because we are in fact watching two different films here. Curse of Bigfoot has a backstory similar to that of They Saved Hitler’s Brain, in that somebody in the fifties made a short movie and somebody else, years later, added useless filler to expand it into something they could show in a late-night TV slot. They Saved Hitler’s Brain feels very bifurcated, the new material being both narratively and stylistically different from Madmen of Mandoras. But if you didn’t know that Curse of Bigfoot was twenty minutes of extra film sewn onto a 1963 movie called Teenagers Battle the Thing, you might not immediately notice.

If you’ve been following this blog for a while you’ll probably remember that I thought Madmen of Mandoras was a significantly better movie than They Saved Hitler’s Brain (even if it still was definitely not a good movie) – the added footage was distracting and pointless. These two films, however, I would say are about equally awful. The footage added to Curse of Bigfoot is still pointless, but it looks exactly like what was originally shot for Teenagers Battle the Thing, the only noticeable difference being a slight change in the film stock! Both are depressingly earth-toned movies in which it takes for-fucking-ever for anything to happen, with night scenes shot in the blazing daylight, and lines dubbed in by bad voice actors over bad physical performances. Both feature shitty monster suits and every possible cost-cutting measure.

This leads me to wonder whether Curse of Bigfoot might be terrible on purpose. The people tasked with turning Teenagers Battle the Thing into a full-length movie got a couple of the actors back to play their older selves in the added footage. Making stuff match was clearly on their minds. Could they have actually thought things like, “we’d better use the wrong filter for this, or it won’t be as bad as the day-for-night in the original footage!” or “we need to pad this attack a bit, to match the pace!”? If so… I don’t know whether to be impressed, or just to crawl under the bed and cry.

On the other hand, Curse of Bigfoot does at least try to do one thing better than Teenagers Battle the Thing – it wants to have something to say. It spells this thesis out for us in the opening narration and in the professor’s speech about horror movies: our society has forgotten about monsters.

We in the twenty-first century don’t spent much time thinking about monsters unless we happen to be film-makers, political commentators, or maybe paleontologists trying to figure out what the fuck this bugger is. It wasn’t so long ago, however, that they were very real to many people. Archaeological evidence suggests that people in New England believed in vampires as recently as the 1820s. Nowadays, monsters have been taking out of the ‘scary’ category and placed in the ‘fun’ one, and so when people report things like bigfoot or a sea serpent, we don’t take them very seriously.

Bigfoot, sea monsters, and vampires don’t really exist, obviously, but in losing our fear of monsters we may have lost a proper respect for nature. Every so often the newspapers in my city carry a story of some tourist who tried to get a better selfie with a grizzly bear and got mauled. We are so used to thinking that we have tamed nature, that there are no monsters left, that we don’t recognize danger when we’re confronted with it. This certainly seems to be a theme of the stories we’re presented with in Curse of Bigfoot: it never occurs to the woman in the opening that her barking dog may be trying to warn her of danger, or to the two loggers that the mysterious figure in the woods might mean them harm.

The party of archaeology students certainly don’t think they’re heading into any danger, despite the fact that they repeatedly do dangerous things. A group of them climb to the top of a cliff to see where a fallen stone came from, and never worry about falling. When they pry open the tomb entrance, the strange smoke that wafts out might be considered a warning sign, but they ignore it. They head right into this dark hole without any worries about rodents, rattlesnakes, or cave collapses. When one character warns the others that the mummy has just moved, they laugh it off. A couple go for a walk through the dark woods at night to get to a vending machine, without a second thought.

Lest you think I’m in any way praising this movie, I’m not – I just like my reviews to be at least a certain length, so sometimes I really dig for material. This was a dig on the level of saying The Incredible Melting Man is about how we treat the elderly. My high school English teacher might buy it, but I doubt anyone else would.

One thing I do wonder is why they chose to reframe this as a bigfoot movie. The footage from Teenagers Battle the Thing makes it very clear that this is a mummy movie, although they couldn’t afford any of the genre’s traditional accessories. Instead of a museum and a treasure, we get one cabin in the woods and… that’s all. When the characters talk about the situation, they always describe the monster as a mummy, and even when they theorize that it’s the product of a lost civilization, the idea that it may not be human never crosses their minds. It is not particularly tall. It is not remarkably hairy. It looks nothing like the bigfoot the two loggers saw, although it does somewhat resemble the zombie from the opening. Why the man telling the story decided this being must be bigfoot is an absolute mystery.

The only thing I can come up with as an explanation is that bigfoot movies were popular in the 1970s. Having seen a number of these, I can’t say I find them particularly inspiring.

Curse of Bigfoot is almost incomprehensibly boring, to the point where I’m not sure MST3K could have done much with it if they had featured it. In the opening sequence it takes forever for the woman to be attacked and then we don’t see it. In the logger sequence it takes forever for the guy to be attacked and then we don’t see it. And in the main plot it takes forever for anyone to be attacked and then we don’t see it! The only attack we see is when the mummy attacks the sheriff at the climax and that really, really wasn’t worth the wait.

Congratulations, Jackie Neyman Jones – you managed to be in a movie worse than Manos.

#mst3k #reviews #episodes that never were #curse of bigfoot #teenagers battle the thing #fuck this movie #all these movies have bigfoot in them #70s #we're running out of plots #cryptid cinema

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