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kneexcutter · 1 year

Text

Desert rose

Soap x 141 reader

I've never played COD nor do I plan to. I cracked because of all the other stories and Tiktoks. If things are inaccurate I apologize in advance.

Reader can sing

Undercover

Possible part two?

youtube

Call sign: Bumblebee

Price handed you a dossier to read at, and you peered at it for a minute before glaring at your boss.

“You want me to what?”

"I want you to go undercover as a performer," Price remarked gradually.

"A performer?" Gaz asked, his face furrowed.

Soap started to snicker and you and Gaz both looked at each other with distraught eyes. "What type of performer?"

"Get your head out of the gutter, MacTavish," you said with a groan, tossing the file on the table. " I doubt I would be of any assistance in this department, sir, with all due respect."

Soap retrieved the file from the table and examined it, with Ghost gazing over his shoulder.

"Don't worry, Bonny , you'd be fantastic in this department," Soap replied with a wink. Your eyes rolled as you heard this.

"The buyer will be there tonight, Bee, it's too late to find someone now," Price spoke as he handed you another file. "We leave in an hour, here the information you'll need. Alright meeting dismissed."

You aimed daggers at Price's head, knowing he could call anyone with the flick of a wrist, and Kate would have made sure of it. Fuck, she could be in on it. You thought to yourself.

"Aye, bumblebee, got a minute?" Soap calls to you. You sighed as you walked over to him. "What is it, MacTavish?"

Soap rubbed the back of his neck lightly with his fingers. "Er- you looked a little bothered, I was just wondering if you were alright?"

You lifted your brow at the Scottish man in front of you. "You called me over here…to see if I was okay? Really?”

"Yeah...I know you avoid doing undercover missions since it's not really your style-"

"Speed it up MacTavish." You breathed. Soap sighed, and you saw a change in his mood; his gaze seemed to soften as he stared at you. He put his hand on your shoulder and gave you a light squeeze. "I'm here for ya, I got your back."

You nodded and squeezed Soap's hand before turning around and walking down the corridor, clenching onto the file in your hand.

If Soap was being really honest with himself, he had a hard time getting his eyes off of you ever since the day you two met. He observed you as you walked down the hall, meticulously inspecting you from head to toe. The day you were introduced to the team for the first time. When you stared at him, he felt as if he had no words for the first time in his life, and you stung his heart. For him, the name bumblebee was perfect for you; it fitted you well.

You were beautiful, stunning, and absolutely breathtaking. He wasn't the only one who noticed; he also noticed other people stealing glances at you. The notion of you being closer to someone else with all his pent-up sentiments just waiting to spill out sacred him at times.

He also knew you despised undercover assignments because of your history, but although understanding they were part of the job, you pushed through them. He admired that about you, you were sweet but also a kick ass solider.

"Soap."

Kate jolted Soap out of his stupor. Kate lifted her brow at him, and he noticed a bag in her hand. He figured it was for you. "Yes, ma'am?"

"Where's Y/N?"

"She just left, I think to her room," Soap said, indicating in the direction you had just come from. Kate nods and begins walking down the hall. As she continued down the corridor, Kate spoke up. "Oh, and one more thing, don't linger like that, you look ridiculous."

…

You were standing inside a dressing room, staring out the window, trying not to worry about having to perform in front of a large crowd for the sake of this mission.

A highly skilled and knowledgeable man who was capable of detonating several blocks' worth of buildings with the flick of a finger must be interrogated for information. But no one can get a hold of him, which is where you come in. You needed to lower his guard, get him to look at you, and give him a performance to remember... at least

Your stomach started to flutter with butterflies. "What am I doing here?" you wondered aloud. You looked down at your hands; they were clammy and dripping with perspiration. You began wiping them on the chair to prevent getting them on the fancy outfit Kate had bought for you. Kate claims it was quite expensive, and she want to have it returned in one piece so she may wear it on her date night.

For a brief period, you were transfixed by the flashing lights and dancing people. They were dancing carelessly, with one of the world's most lethal men inside, nonchalantly wandering around with blood on his hands.

"Bumblebee how copy?"

You scoffed smugly hearing a familiar Scottish accent, "I Copy."

"Told ya I got your back."

"My hero," you chuckled.

"How you feelin'? Your on in twenty."

"Nervous…anxious, I don't know honestly," you sighed.

"Ah, come on lass you'll be okay, if anything happens I'll pull you off the stage myself."

"And risk the mission and your like, nah I don't think so Soap."

"Trust me bee, your not the only one with stingers y'know."

"Pft, really, I might have to have a chat with Price about changing my code name," you laughed slightly.

"You better not even think about it lass."

"Mmm, we shall see soapy."

"Soapy huh?" You heard Soap chuckle a bit.

"I know it's not my best," you admitted with a giggle. You had to confess that hearing Soap's voice made you feel a little less anxious. You stood up from your seat and walked slowly towards the door.

"I'm going to the stage..."

"Copy, Good luck Bonny."

"Bonny? What's that mean?"

"I'll tell you... someday."

You emerged from the changing area and made your way to the backstage, where you saw other women leaving the stages. Judging by their attire, you could tell that these women were exotic dancers. As one of the women smiled and winked at you, you felt your cheeks flush. "Hey there, looking fine honey, knock em' dead out there."

A curvy woman came to a halt in front of you. You remained motionless as the lady observed you. She had blonde hair and brown eyes, and she circled you for a bit before humming. "What's your name dear?"

"Bonny," you said hastily.

That wasn't your alias.

"Come this way, Bonny," the lady said as she led you to the stage. "What are you performing, hun?"

"A song..."

"Shy little thing aren't you? Does the manager know your preforming?"

You said shakily, "Uh- yeah..."

You seized the microphone from the woman as she started to wave someone over; based on the way they stared at you, you assumed it was the manager. The DJ then gave you a thumbs up. During the woman's introduction of you to the crowd, everything fell silent. As you entered the stage's spotlight, you felt all the anxiety surge back towards you.

You closed your eyes and then reopened them, scouring the crowd for your objective. You started humming before you started singing.

Soap listened intently as you sang; when he heard your voice, which was calming, he felt as like he was being cast under a trance. And only then were you entrancing, the way you walked smoothly as if you hadn't been scared and stressed just seconds before.

You appeared calm up there, as if you belonged there. You looked like an angel with your eyes half-lit as you swept the crowd until you made eye contact with him. He followed you as you walked to the edge of the stage, past a few people, and over to him, putting the mic between you and him.

At the exact second Soap was about to risk it all, you put your palm on his chest while gazing into his eyes. "I got sharp edges, I get defensive too lost to care, middle finger in the air, I'm sorry that I scared ya, be my protector when I cross the Sahara... Take me there, take me there and-"

He wanted to follow you, spin you around in his arms. He breathed out. He closed his eyes as he heard your voice, allowing it to flood his mind. God- you were intoxicating. He opened his eyes starring up at the ceilings lights. He yearned for you above all else—he ached to hold you, touch you, feel you, hear you, and everything else. You and only you.

Your voice quickly returned to a murmur as you returned to the stage. The music stopped, and then a wave of whistles and cheering erupted.

"Good work bee." Soap heard Price say.

"I've got eyes on the target." Gaz said. "He's headed to the backrooms."

"Copy that," you said. "Going in."

...

You walked into your dressing room and were greeted by a tall man. He was dressed in a velvet suit and wore a gold watch around his wrist.

"Hello, sir. May I help you?" You speak gently. "Are you lost?"

"Ah no miss, I was actually looking for you," the man said, clearing his throat.

"What is it?"

"See, I never really do this since it's not really my thing- but I was captivated by your song, you have such a lovely voice miss," the man explained.

You made a phony giggle and said, "Thank you, appreciate it, but honestly it was all last minute."

"I wouldn't have suspected, and you're relatively beautiful, I should add."

You starred at the man curiously, "Thank you, your not so bad yourself," you trailed off. You needed him to look at you because the way he looked at you felt strange. You felt your cheeks flush, though, and for a brief moment, you pictured Soap. You wanted him to look at you. The way he stared at you, it was as if time had stopped for a split second.

"May I ask what your name is Ms?"

"Oh... it's Bonny...well my name is BB but I recently have found a new liking to the name Bonny."

"Hm... any particular reason why?"

"Well, it's just something someone close to me calls to me as," you stated as you sat in your chair. "I think it's adorable."

"I see…so, Ms Bonnie, would you like to join me tonight?"

"I'm not sure… I need to get home to my dad; I need to give him his medication before he signs me up for anything else," You scoffed.

"I'm sure your father will be okay without you for a night," the man murmured as he approached you, standing behind you.

You made a humming sound "A night —? I'm only worth a one-night stand?"

"Certainly not," the man responded with a deep chuckle, trailing his fingers along your shoulders. "You deserve the world, and I'm more than willing enough to give it you, a voice like yours deserves to be kept for one's ears alone."

"Is that what you say to every woman you meet, sir?" You giggled. You wanted to roll your eyes and walk out of the room. You didn't want him to touch you, you wanted Soap to. You wanted Soap here, you needed him here. You let out a sigh turning your head to look up at the man. You tilted your head at the man. "You never told me your name..."

The man grinned and extended his hand for you to take, remarking, "Let's get out of here so you can properly say it."

You gave the man a modest smile and placed your hand in his.

He led you rapidly outside the building, perhaps ready to engage in physical contact that you were trying to avoid at all costs. This is what happened the last time you went undercover, which made you hate them. You weren’t sure why Price wanted you to do this mission to be exact. If he wanted to hear you sing or something all he had to do was ask. The man led you to a car opening the door for you on the passenger side with a small gesture telling you to hop in. You sat in the seat with a nervous smile as the door shut.

Leaning your head back against the seat you sighed as the man got in the drivers seat turning the car on and making way to who knows where. Mid drive he placed his hand on your thigh giving it a firm squeeze, you wanted to slap his hand away. You closed your eyes, picturing Johnny’s hand on thigh…

“So… what brought you to out tonight?” You spoke up making sure your tone was curious.

“Just business.”

You tilted your head to look at the man, “You run your own company?”

“Yes, I do.”

You pretend to let out a amused hum as you placed your hand over the one on your thigh, “I’ve always wanted to do that, do you mind if I told you my idea?”

“This should interesting then, go on Bonny.”

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thomase1 · 2 years

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Surpriiiiise

So, hello there.

I saw @mischief2sarawr 's post and felt the need to write a little something.

As somebody whose birthdays always end up a catastrophe, I felt this personally. So I whipped up this little drabble. My first ever story published here hehe. English is not my native language so I apologize for any grammatical errors or weird phrasing.

Oh and @lokisgoodgirl I stole your sas tag list I hope you dont mind. 😁

Reader × Loki

Warnings: everything that can go wrong goes wrong, Loki thirst, smut, restraints (not on you), maybe size kink, a grain of angst if you squint.

You will have to take it as surprise so I dont spoil everything, but I think the sas wont mind.

I hope.

Ok, I did get carried away a little it seems, word count ~3,500

[AN: If you got notified again, sorry, I edited it since the errors really bothered me and also changed a few things. :)) ♡]

So here goes nothing:

It was your birthday.

And it is terrible.

Nobody from the team even wished you a happy birthday.

They all forgot it seems like.

And to top it off, everything that could go wrong, did go wrong.

It started with small but annoying things, like the coffee machine needing new water, fair enough.

Then new beans, alright.

Then a cleaning, fucking hell.

And then you noticed that you are out of milk.

Just your whole breakfast was already ruined, moldy bread, rock solid butter,... it just kept going.

After that, you went back to your room, opening the package with clothes and other small things you ordered for yourself.

The shirt was a different color, the hoodie was itchy instead of soft, the leggings were far too small and the jeans ripped open, a cool breeze confirming. Your ass open for anybody to see.

You just clumped it all up and threw it in the last corner of your room, trying to forget about it.

And it just kept going after that, small accidents like spilling your juice, burning your food and stubbing your little toe.

It was the worst day you have ever had and the worst of it all?

Its not even a small birthday, its your 30th.

So for the others to not remember that, after year and years of beeing a part of the team, to say it stung would be a giant understatement.

So you decided to just go back to your room and sleep, maybe the universe had a little mercy on you and would let you sleep peacefully.

On your way back, your nerves and frustration finally took over, tears brimming in your eyes. You felt them spill, running down your cheek as you reached your door.

Opening it, you felt you are not alone, its just part of your instincts to sense other presences around.

Then you smell it, a familiar smell, a smell you loved.

Frest like snow.

Smoky like a campfire and...

Leather.

Oh how you love this smell.

It makes you weak in the knees, the fact that you had been crushing over him for a long time only adding to it.

Loki.

You two always flirted, you are good friends but never more. Much to your dissapointment.

But what the hell is he doing here?

You were facing your living area, a soft cough ripping you from your thoughts. You turn around and find...

Loki, sitting cross legged on your coffee table, his arms tied to his torso by some beautiful golden chains. (An: lets forget about the ones at his feet since they dont look like they do much anyway.)

"Darling, why are you crying?", Loki speaks, takeing you from your thoughts once again.

You hear the chains creak against his leather, leaning forward as if trying to reach you. You forgot about the wet streaks coating your cheeks, how embarrassing.

"What is this? Did somebody do this to you?", you ask him, dodging his question.

"I meant to surprise you.", his eyes sparkle with mischief.

"Well you're the first to even talk to me today. But why the chains? You could have just visited.", you ask, oblivious.

"Are you trying to tell me nobody wished you a happy birthday?", he asks with furrowed brows.

"Yes. Now whats with the chains Lokes?"

He huffs, not sure if its frustration or amusement.

His mouth agape looking at you, "So thats why...", he trails off, shifting his gaze to the side,

"Y/N, I am your surprise."

You knit your brows, the little wheels in your head turning at overdrive.

"What do you mean? What am I surpossed to-", and then it hits you.

HE is your surprise, all wrapped up for you.

"Have you figured it out now? I am at your mercy, do with me as you please.", he looks down at his feet, but you can hear his smirk.

This day suddenly got a whole lot better. You finally wipe your face and walk towards him.

"At my mercy, huh?", you smirk, delicious ideas flooding your mind.

You have wanted him for so long. Never would you have thought of him as a sub to you, but you certenly are not complaining.

But what to do out of all the things on your mind?

Slowly, you dragged your finger along the chains, following the edges of them. You slid your finger to his leather armour, feeling his chiselled chest underneath.

Loki kept his head down, but his breath became almost shaky, he is enjoying this as much as you.

You took your fingers and ghosted them up his neck, his breath cathiching in his throat. Then you trailed them along his jaw, oh how you love his jaw. You fantasize about it a lot, how it you feel buried between your thighs.

With a smirk you take his chin between your thumb and pointer finger. His tiny stubbles prickling your fingers, pushing it up so his eyes meet yours.

His gorgeous eyes capturing you once again. Those shades of green and aquamarin... so unique, never have you seen anything like them. No crystal or diamond could compare.

"So, what should I do with you, prince Loki?", you asked, hearing him take a deeper breath.

The use of his title aways thrills him, it isnt usual for anybody here to use it.

He whines as you take away your fingers, his gaze glued to you. Makeing a circle around him, you notice the pointy chain digging into his back at one spot, so you twist it a little feeling him relax slightly.

"Thank you.", he breathes.

You smile behind him and run your fingers though his hair. So soft, it feels so good to run his wavy locks through your fingers. You lightly scratch at his scalp, his head leaning to your touch.

If he were a cat, he'd be purring.

With your other hand, you go down his spine, all the way from his neck to his ass. His gorgeous, royal ass you just want to bite into like a juicy apple. The thought makes you squeeze his cheek, a sharp intake of air coming from your gift.

Your fingers keep wandering, around his waist to his stomach. You can feel his abs through the thick fabric, straining against it. You take your hand away from his luscious mane, another whine of his makeing you smirk deviously.

Sinking to your knees, you press your front to his back, laying a hand each on his knees.

His breathing quickens rapidly.

Ever so slowly you go up his thighs.

Oh how you wanna ride his thighs, use him like a toy.

You stop to squeeze the inside of his thigh, a tiny sound that can only be described as a moan sounding in your ears. Its so addictive, you instantly crave more.

Torturously slow, you make your way up his flesh. You can feel him shiver against your back as you stay only inches from where he wants you. Where you want to touch but enjoying to tantalize him far too much.

So you make your way back to his knees.

You keep them there for a while, takeing in a whiff of his hair since its right in front of you.

Who wouldnt? It smells divine, you cant even describe it.

It somehow masculine, yet feminine. A little fruity and yet spicy, but overall just natural.

As you keep smelling his hair you, more or less consciously, your hand travels up again, this time even closer to his jewels.

Again, its stays there.

"Please-", Loki whines, trying to shift towards your hands.

Devilishly, you take them away and stand up, takeing all touch from him. Never would you have dreamed about it, but Loki wiggels in his restraints and lets out a keeing, a begging sound.

You circle him, your core throbbing from neglect.

Standing im front of him, "What do you want? Miss my touch?".

He whines, "Yes, please... touch me.".

You snicker, "I will be honest, I really enjoy you like this. Whining for my touch.".

Lowering yourself, you straddle his spread legs, Loki getting cought by surprise as you hurriedly grab his ckeeks and kiss him.

He tastes sweet, his lips are soft and warm. I bet they would feel good against my ear, moaning as he fucks me from behind.

He needs a second to kiss you back, but when he does, its with the same level of enthusiasm. It doesnt take long for it to get heated, your tongues fighting for dominance in a desperate dance.

One of your hands makes contact with his clothed cock, his jaw going slack when you run your hand up and down. You break the kiss to look at him. Jaw hanging open, pupils blown wide in ecstasy and breath coming in ragged.

"Do you like that my prince?", you ask, kissing the shell of his ear.

"Y-yes- gods please-", he groans, bucking his hips toward you.

"Get rid of your pants.", you whisper in his ear and in a flash of seiðr, their gone.

Your palm makes instant contact with his length, the god hissing out in arousal. You may be strong willed, but you cant help look down.

The sight makeing your, already wet, pussy flood your panties.

His cock certenly is of godly standard, your hand looks tiny around him. His head is an angry red and precum is leaking from his slit. The sight spurs you on to hardern your grip and gradually stroke him up and down.

A moan leaves his lips, his head sinking to your shoulder, inviting you to run your free hand through his hair again.

"Somebody is excited huh? How long have you been like this?", you whisper against his hair, movement steady on him.

"I-its been a w- aaah while.", he moans.

You let your hand go over his cock, his words makeing you even hornier. He lets out a groan which he muffles on your shoulder.

"Was it before I was even here?"

He shivers, "Y-yes.. oh gods- Ive been wai- uuuh waiting for y-you.", you hardened your grip, you thumb pressing down on the vein on the underside of his girth.

"Poor thing.", you mock, feeling him tremble.

Slowly, you stood up, hearing Loki cry out, "No! Pl-please dont stop- dont leave me like this, please!".

That honestly made your heart ache for a second, you know he has a massive fear of abandonment, so it probably wasnt entirely sexual.

"That wasnt my plan, this was.", you say softly, takeing off your shirt.

He looks at you stunned, groaning as he lets his eyes wander over your cleavage.

You drop it on the floor, moving to take off your pants, "I would never leave you. Especially not like that.".

You lets them pool on the floor, looking at him to watch his reaction. He adjusts his posture, cock standing painfully tall.

You hook two fingers under the waistband of your slip, "I want to savour my delicious gift. I would be insane to walk away from you.", you slide them down, letting them drop between your feet.

You see his jaw clench, eyes savouring every inch of you.

Gracefully, you walk towards him, wasteing no time to straddle him again, letting his cock rest against your dripping heat. He throws his head back with a groan from the contact.

Your breath quickens too, it feels heavenly to finally feel him. You rocket your hips against him, your clit gliding up and down. His veins in contact with your sensitive bud makes you moan, head falling forwards to rest on his chest.

The chains poke against your forehead, so you tell him, "Remove them, all of it. I want to feel you.".

He obligates and vanishes his top and the chains, feeling his bare torso against you.

"Please-", he pants, feeling him buck his hips.

You have no objection to that, so you lift your hips and line him up. Slowly you sink down, feeling him stretch you like you have never been bofore. Both of you let out a deep moan, his cock twitching inside you.

Its almost hurts a little, which only adds to your excitement. You stay like that and look up into his eyes, dark of lust.

For a second you both you look into each others eyes when he asks, "Can I touch you?".

You nod, laying your arms around his neck. He greedily feels up and down your body, hips moving a little from excitement.

Then his exploring comes to a halt at the band of your bra, "Is it ok if I..?".

"Yes, do it.", you encourage and feel the clasp getting undone. He helps you take it off and flings is across the room, his hands cupping your breast.

He squeezes them and plays with your nipples, you buck your hips, moving in circular motions. Both of you moan at the feeling, his head sinking to your cleavage peppering small kisses all over it.

You cant take it anymore, you need to move, so you push yourself to have him in only by the tip, sinking down in a hard thrust. Its feels so good, you do it again and again, Lokis hands gripping your hips firmly, helping you with leverage.

You kiss, moaning into each others mouth. He starts meeting your thrusts as he gets desperate.

He begins to groan and thrust harder and harder, his veins and ridges gliding against your sweet spots, clit meeting his pelvis with every thrust.

"I- I'm close- is it ok if-", he groans out of gritted teeth so you interrupte him.

"Yes, its ok- let go-", you tell him, cupping his cheek to kiss him.

He tightens his hold on your grip, surely leaving little bruises behind, but you love the feel of it.

His thrusts get more desperate, erratic.

He stills, pushing you down on him as he spills inside of you.

You didnt come, but its ok, this was a true pleasure. He rides himself through his high and wraps his arms agroud you.

"This was so nice, thank you Loki.", you tell him, stroking his hot cheek.

"Was? Darling you did not finish, we are far from done here.", he tells you, cupping your cheek to look at you with a wicked smirk.

"You wanna keep going? But you just-", you question but he heckles.

"Oh we are miles from my limits. I am a god my dear.", he pecks your neck, trailing lower to your ear. He leaves bruising kisses there, your sex clenches at the feeling.

"Mmm, you like that hm?", he mumbles against your skin.

You stretch your neck for him to grand him better access.

"What do you want me to do with you? I am your gift.", he asks you.

"Just take me. Fuck me how you want to.", you groan, feeling the excitement reignite.

"Your wish is my command.", he grabs your waist and stands up with you.

Instinctively your arms and legs wrap around him. He walks over to the next free wall, pushing you against it carefully.

He takes your knees and pushes them up, holing you up and spreading you. His mouth starts to trail your throat, gently nipping at it.

You try to move your hips but fail, "Patience kitten.", he tells you firmly.

You whine at him but he ignores you, kissing your cleavage and speading hickeys all over it. Is he marking you?

Just as you think about it, he thrusts his hips, even his semi hards cock feels like heaven.

His seed spills out and you moan from the sudden pleasure as he keeps on thrusting, feeling him harden inside of you. His thrust stay in a slow rhythm, each thrust bottoming out iside of you.

"Lokii...", you moan.

He groans from your sounds, engulfing your lips with his as he changes his angle. He now hits your g spot perfectly, you cry out from the pleasure, moaning his name over and over.

You grip his shoulder and claw at his back with the other hand, needing to hold on to something. The coil in your stomach tightens, fast, and he can feel that.

"Thats right... say my name- youre squeezing me so well, gods-", he throws his head back and you admire his muscular neck, a vampires dream.

You are a moaning mess, wanting release but also not wanting this to end.

"Close- I'm... ahhh... please dont stop-", you keen feeling your limbst tingle. You sink your nails even deeper into his back pulling a gutteral moan from him.

"Come with me- for me Y/n.", he lets one of his hands leave the hollow of your knee and meets your clit, pressing down on it.

"Ah fuuuuck Lokiiii-", you climax as he starts stroking your clit.

Your channels clench around him, spurring on his orgasm, "Oh gods- fuck- s-so good-".

You feel him come inside of you, thusting into you deeply, holding himself there. He keeps moving his finger on your clit, prolonging your high.

"Your still milking me- your such a good girl-", he starts riding you both though your highs, only stopping when you cry out in overstimulation.

You sink your head to his shoulder, trying to catch your breath. He rests his chin on your head, calming down hilself.

After both of you have calmed down a little, he grabs your other knee again, walking you both to the shower. He sets you down, pulling out, and steadies you.

Your legs are jello but you can stand.

"That was amazing, best fuck ever. We should do that again some time.", you tell him honestly, makeing him chuckle.

"Oh trust me, we will. You are mine now.", he pecks your lips.

"You wanna date me?", you ask surpised.

"Well yes, except if you dont-", you shush him by kissing him, that should answer it.

You both take a shower and help each other clean up. Which may or may not have lead to him fingering you while cleaning you up.

He held you steady the whole time. Not beeing able to keep from kissing one another, the shower took a long time.

After you finally got out, both of you dried yourselfs. You already wanted to blow dry your hair when Loki dried his and your hair with him seiðr.

"Wait, couldnt you have just cleaned us up with your magic then?", you ask him suspiciously.

"Sure. But takeing a shower together was more fun.", he says, makeing a fingering motion with his fingers.

You giggle and slap his arm but your pussy got wet once again. He is holding your mind hostage and you started dating about an hour ago.

"Wait, did you put the chains on yourself? Why did you make them so tight and uncomftable?", you ask him.

"Yes I did. I wanted it to be realistic and I placed that one piece of it deliberatly to dig into me.", he smirks.

"Why would you do that?", you are a little dumbstruck.

"I was curious if you would notice and wanted to see what you would do.", he explains to you.

Your mouth forms a silent 'o' and you nod in understanding.

"Now, lets get ready, I want to take you somewhere.", he snaps his wist and both of you are clothed.

He is dressed in his black Gucci suit, the one you always longed to tear off his body. Sometimes dreams do come true, well, you have yet to take it off of him, but youre sure that can be arranged.

He dressed you in a black cocktail dress with no straps, leaving your collar bones free. It gives you a nice cleavage and the skirt is covered by a layer of tulle, small forest green accents stitched on it.

"Wow, its gorgeous Loki. And you look so handsome, I love that suit.", you tell him with a beaming smile.

"Well thank you darling. I really did a good job, that dress is fit for a queen like you.", he admires, spinning you around.

You giggle and wrap your arms around him, kissing him passionatly, loving, "Thank you Loki, honestly. You turned the worst birthday Ive ever had into the best.".

You see his eyes sprakle, "Now, lets go before I cant hold back from tearing that dress off.".

With a bit of protest you let him lead you to the rooftop, the elevator doors open and reaveal fairy lights, dance music and a bartender mixing drinks.

But also the whole team, shouting "Happy bithday!".

You are taken by surprise, your mouth dropping open as Tony hands you your favourite drink.

"You didnt forget?", you ask them getting teary eyed.

"No! Of course not! We thought it was a cruel plan, but my brother insisted on it.", Thor defends.

"He told us he had a plan and well- I think its clear what it was.", Tony says, gesturing to your neck.

Embarrassmemt floods you as you realize Lokis hickeys are at display for all the team to see.

"Yes. While that may be partly true-" Loki says and looks at you, whispering, "are you alright with me makeing it official?".

You answer him with a nod, getting more anxious to how they will react.

"We are now courting.", he announces, not beeing able to contain his excitement he smiles from cheek to cheek.

"Finally!", say Wanda and Nat in unision.

"Took you long enough brother. Congratulations.", booms Thor, strideing to him, clapping him on the back proudly.

You hear Loki groan very subtly at the harsh treatment.

Oh Thor, always miscalculating your strengh.

"While I cant understand it, congrats guys. Now, lets get this party started!", Tony says, turning to the bar.

And that is how Loki and you started dating.

And also the best birthday you ever had.

@lokischambermaid @fictive-sl0th @wheredafandomat @sarahscribbles @holymultiplefandomsbatman @muddyorbsblr @maple-seed @xorpsbane @holdmytesseract @loopsisloops @simplyholl @ijuststareatstuffhereok89 @thedistractedagglomeration @mochie85 @michelleleewise @vbecker10 @xorpsbane @tbhiddlestan83

@tessathechild (since you asked me to tag u in my fics hehe)

#loki laufeyson #loki god of mischief #loki oneshot #loki smut #loki x you #loki x y/n #loki odinson #sub loki #loki x reader

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galaxae · 7 months

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if youre still doing the ocverse ask game, 3 and 19? 🥺

ougghhh i so totally still am. i'm mainly fixated on my stupid ass video game idea (working title is gods don't bleed but i want to change it bc it doesn't fit as well anymore)

forgive me if this is incoherent, my boyfriend dislocated his knee so i have to care for him, and work has been terrible and burned me out, so i'm definitely leaving some stuff out of my answers :(, but whatever!!

3.) any recurring images/elements?

absolutely yes. lots of imagery of plants and animals, for one. fire vs. ice too, yes i know it's a very commonly used trope but i like playing around with those two things, especially when i get to kinda subvert expectations with them. similarly with light vs. dark. and also colors vs black and white, both in terms of morality and in terms of actual visuals

19.) describe the sillies you think about but that dont go in the story.

in my mind, charity and fabian (the first two playable characters, and close friends) are exes. it's probably not going to be canonized, but it's also not going to be explicitly denied, so...

their first date was incredibly awkward, by the way. fabian was an ignorant rich kid who loved to pry and stick his nose in others' business and not let up until he knew everything about a situation, while charity was freshly in the "my mom and i were homeless, got taken in by a man, and then that man turned out to be very very bad so we had to flee the state and come to this small piece of shit town where no one realizes how privileged they are, and this all sucks, and i don't want to talk about it" mindset. they were also both 14-15 which is the worst age to be. they broke up so fast after this but now they've got a really solid friendship going a few years later, and charity has a different (cooler) partner

also, so many silly bits of dialogue that... i'm not sure they'll go into the game at all, or if they do, whether they'll just be optional bits. but some favorites include (formatted sorta like they would be in my script document):

KIMBERLY: Oh, hey, Fabián, you're in French 2 with me next semester. JAMAL: Wh... what? People actually take French? I thought that was a myth. FABIÁN: Well, I already know Spanish since everyone on my mom's side and, like, half of my dad's side speaks it. So I thought taking Spanish would be way too easy. CHARITY: You stupid son of a bitch. That's exactly why you should take Spanish.

ACE: Holy shit, I just got stung by a bee! FABIÁN: Are you ok??? Ace pulls the stinger out of their face ACE: LOOK! It's still pumping venom! That's so cool! CHARITY: What the fuck is wrong with you? ACE: What's wrong with you? Lookit!

JAMAL: Hey. Kimbie. KIMBERLY: Don't call me that, please. What is it? JAMAL: Spell ICUP. KIMBERLY: "ICUP?" JAMAL: Spell it. KIMBERLY: That's not a real word. Fake words don't have spellings. JAMAL: Can you at least try? KIMBERLY: Oh. Wait. I see. I-K-U-P. JAMAL: ... KIMBERLY: Does that suffice? Jamal looks as though he's about to cry. [Later that same day] JAMAL: Hey, uh, hey Kimbi-- Kimberly. Is it just me, or is your outfit kind of, uh, "updog?" KIMBERLY: What? JAMAL: Your outfit's kind of "updog." KIMBERLY: What does "updog" mean? JAMAL: ........Can you........... rephrase that, please? KIMBERLY: ? No. JAMAL: :/

also, there's a period of time when kimberly is in 9th grade where she gets really intensely into astrology. specifically so that she can Know A Lot About A Thing that other people don't know as much about. she'll see someone doing something, walk up to them and be like "what are you, an aries venus?" and when they don't understand the reference she'll be like "never mind :)" and feel smart. she no longer does this in the game because she realizes that's so cringe. and she has OTHER science to do, dammit!! (like proving the Weird Kid at school is a literal alien)

another fun fact: kimberly (resident genius) and jamal (who does not give a shit about academics) play chess together one time and jamal wins because kimberly is so perplexed by his newbie moves that she doesn't know how to respond to them.

oh... i didnt realize i had this many sillies... cool :)

yall are encouraged to send more asks if you want i love these blorbos

#ocs tag #adrian posts

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despair-to-future-arcs · 8 months

Text

Change for the Ultimate Imposter

[Part 1]

So... you say that things started to change when I appear?

Indeed... the change wasn't instant or anything and I did remember how you acted; you didn't interact with any of us and just avoided class which I can't blame you...

However, change occur on November 14th, 2011...

...

Date: November 14th, 2011

*in Class 77-B's homeroom, the entire class was together with the exception of Sonia...*

So... your saying our teach got into an accident.

Yeah sounds like it and she'll be in the hospital until mid December.

I see, that's a surprise honestly... I wonder what happen...?

All I heard is that she got a lot second-degree burns, stung by a bee which she's allergic and fell down the stairs.

That sounds like bad luck, huh?

Well maybe bad luck for her but maybe it's good luck for us, so maybe we can-.

Hmph, as if! Honestly our teacher got injured and you see this as a good thing, get over yourself! If anything I think we know one person to blame.

That moody gamer bitch! She's the one at fault! *Hiyoko points to one person which everyone looks at who Hiyoko was pointing at...*

*is on her handheld, not paying attention...*

The gamer chick - uh Nami was it...? Sorry I didn't get to talk with her much, in fact she doesn't seem like much of a fighter to me.

Yeah and hell she was the reason our teacher got in the hospital, it's all her fault this is happening!

I-I bet she was the one that beated her up, after all she totally splashed coke in my face!

Yeah I remember that and she stopped you spilling coke on me.

And hell the only reason she got in trouble is because she was helping Sonia from fainting and brought her to the infirmary which she's still recovering, that's it!

Ye-Yeah but...but...!

SHE TOTALLY HURT OUR TEACHER, SHE'S A BUUUULLY!

Kazuichi can you stop picking on Hiyoko already!

Dude I wasn't even picking on her at all, what the hell!

But given the situation; we do have to ask Nagi what happen, after all she was the only one there so we better ask.

Indeed, not sure what she did but it's better to get her side of things...

*As then the others surrounded Nagi and started to look at her*

*is on her handheld* ...

Hey... emo gamer girl, it's time to fess up and tell us what you did...

Hm...? Yes what is it...? I'm busy...

Yeah, busy just sitting on your ass all day and playing some stupid video games! Seriously, you must be one of those shut-ins that is going to stay in your parents basements, huh?!

...Aren't you the same person that was asking me about Monstermon and Doctor Mettow and his puzzle solving game? I know your trying to be tough but maybe stop lying...?

Wh-What the-?! I-I never ask that, stop lying! We want to know exactly what you did and see if you can take responsibility!

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highfunctioningflailgirl · 5 months

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Damage Control - 1x08 Bugs

Although Dean isn’t happy about losing the steam shower, they decide to get out of the bug-infested neighborhood and spend the night in a motel instead. The bugs seem to have disappeared with the arrival of dawn, but the thought of a recurrence is too disgusting. They’re both still creeped out, itching and stinging all over, and, sitting in the Impala beside Dean, Sam can’t stop brushing at his hair and clothes as if the insects were still crawling all over him.

“Stop scratching!” Dean swats at Sam’s hands.

“I’m not. I’m just…” He shudders. “I really need to get out of these clothes and take a shower.”

“I know what you mean.” Dean takes a quick look at himself in the rearview mirror and plucks a dead bug from his spiky hair. “Blech. Disgusting.” Refocusing on the road, he gingerly runs a hand along a growing welt on his neck.

Sam studies him and notices more welts on his brother’s face.

“Hey, are you okay?” he asks. “You look pretty swollen up.”

They both got stung multiple times, but Matt had assured them that - unless they were allergic - a normal, healthy adult could tolerate up to one hundred bee stings before things got truly dangerous.

“Itches like a sonovabitch,” Dean replies. “And I think one got me in the ass.” He shifts uncomfortably. “But yeah, I’m fine. Or no worse than you, I guess.”

“You sure about that?” Taking a closer look at his brother, Sam discovers more angry-looking stings on his hands and forearms, red and puffy, and he thinks he sees a sheen of sweat on Dean’s forehead.

“I’m a little… I don’t know… dizzy, maybe. Hot. Were there fire ants there as well?” He scratches at his arm, laughing unconvincingly.

Sam shakes his head. He’s uncomfortable himself, at least a dozen bee stings prickling and itching on his face, neck, arms and ankles, everywhere the little petsts had found a patch of exposed skin. But he’s not nearly as swollen and pasty as Dean looks.

“Dean. Could you be allergic?”

“Against bees?” Dean huffs, sounding a bit wheezy. “No. Course not.”

Sam frowns. “Well, I’m not so sure.”

“That’s ridiculous.” Dean scrunches up his face which only emphasizes how increasingly disfigured he’s looking. “Don’t be a drama queen. I’ve been stung before, and I’ve never–” He clears his throat and swallows hard. “I’m fine.”

“You don’t sound fine.” Sam’s getting nervous now. His brother’s voice has become hoarse and throaty. “Are you breathing okay? I really think we should get you checked out. This could be– whoa!”

The car swerves as Dean blinks and coughs dryly.

Sam reaches in and steadies the steering wheel. “That’s it! Stop the car, Dean! I’m taking over!”

For a moment, Dean seems to consider mutiny, but he’s clearly off now, even a little shaky, and he lets the Impala roll to a stop. Sam hurries to switch seats, pushing his clammy and hard-breathing brother to scoot over to the passenger site. “Hang in there, bro,” he tells him, cell phone pressed to his ear to find out the location of the nearest hospital.

Luckily, it’s not too far. By the time they get there, Dean is wheezing like an asthma patient and barely able to walk. The twenty-three bee stings they find on him are all swollen to hell, Dean’s blood pressure and saturation are in the tank, and two minutes later he’s hooked up to an IV pumping him full of steroids and antihistamines, an oxygen mask strapped to his face.

It takes a full, scary hour until he starts to improve, the ER team’s hectic activity around him only calming down when his breathing eases up and his vitals normalize.

“He’s gonna be okay now, right?” Sam nervously asks one of the nurses who has taken him aside to check his own bee stings and take his blood pressure.

The woman smiles reassuringly at him. “Yes. You brought him here in time. He’s gonna be just fine.”

Sam exhales in relief. “Will he have to stay?”

She removes the cuff from his arm and jots something down on a clipboard. “I’m sure the doctor will want to keep him here for at least a few more hours. You’re fine, by the way.” She gestures at his chart. “Then you can take your brother home. And this.” She opens a drawer and pulls out an object that Sam recognizes immediately.

“An EpiPen?" he says, stunned. A college buddy of his with a severe peanut allergy had carried one of these on him at all times.

“Your brother’s had quite the allergic reaction,” the nurse says, serious now. “Might have been the large number of stings. Or the specific type of bee. You never know. Next time he gets stung, you keep a close eye on him. Use this if he shows symptoms. And then get him to an ER. Got it?”

Sam nods. “Yes. Got it. Thanks.” He takes the pen and pockets it, already thinking about where to keep it in case of emergency. Knowing that Dean will do his best to lose it. His brother hates feeling weak.

The nurse dabs Sam’s most prominent stings with a soothing ointment before letting him go back to Dean.

He’s sitting up, the oxygen mask gone, but still looking groggy, absentmindedly picking at the medical tape holding his IV in place. Red welts still blemish his cheeks and forehead, and his eyes are puffy, but he has some color back and is no longer wheezing.

“Hey.” Sam waves awkwardly.

“Hey.” Dean sounds like himself again, too, only very tired.

“Feeling better?”

“Yeah.” Dean blinks drowsily. No wonder, with all the antihistamines they gave him.

“The nurse said they’ll keep you here for a few more hours. I thought I’d go and find us a place to stay, then come back pick you up when you’re cleared. What do you think?”

Dean lets his head sink back into the pillow and closes his eyes. “I think…”, he mumbles. “I think that I hate bees.”

“I hear you.” Sam cracks a sympathetic smile.

Now that Dean’s better, he feels the tension leave his body. He’s relieved and exhausted at the same time. What a crazy twenty-four hours it’s been. They’re used to facing off with monsters of all kinds, but a vengeful mega swarm of insects? And then Dean, his invincible tank of a big brother, almost getting felled by anaphylactic shock? Unwittingly, Sam grabs his forehead in delayed disbelief.

“Sammy?” His brother’s voice. Dean’s cracked his eyes back open and is frowning at him. “Dude, you look wiped out. Why don’t you go, find that motel and catch a few zees. Text me the address and I’ll get a cab when they’re cutting me loose.”

If Sam needed any indication that Dean’s on the mend, it’s this - his brother’s worry radar swinging back to him rather than worrying about his own health. Sometimes he wishes he knew why Dean cared so little about himself. Of course, their father had not exactly taught them self-care beyond the basics. But he’d appreciated their skills - or at least Dean’s - and his worth as a hunter. He’d raised his sons - Dean - into strong, independent, self-confident men. And yet, Dean always put other people first. Why?

“You’re not taking a cab, Dean!” he says adamantly. “I’m picking you up. And that’s not a discussion!”

Dean’s eyebrows arch. “Alright, fine. Have it your way, Nurse Ratched. Now buzz off!”

“Haha. Funny.”

Sam waves dismissively at his brother and turns around to leave. Dean’s cracking stupid jokes again. All’s going to be well.

On his way out, Sam slides his hand into his jacket and makes sure that the EpiPen is securely stored in his pocket.

Read the whole series here:

#spn #supernatural #fan fiction #fanfic #the damage control series #dean winchester #sam winchester #1x08 #bugs #hurt/comfort #sick dean #winchester woes

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honeylikesfanfic · 1 year

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A Not So Cold Christmas Night

(Saiki k x Reader)

School was out for winter. While others had plans for vacation with family and friends. Here I am, sitting alone on Christmas day. Mom and Dad were overseas for work. Lucky me, they sent me money to buy myself a gift.

“Usually stores are closed for the holiday, but I think I could go get something for dinner.” I’m not in the mood for anything extravagant. Maybe a nice dessert. “Why not.” Grabbing my keys, I left out the door. The cold air nipped at me as my jacket did its best to keep me warm. The cold reminded me of the days where my family would sit around the tree. Not many presents were under the tree but that was fine with me.

The cold disappeared to warmth as the doors opened to the store. The clerk waved from an empty line. Some were frantic, searching for last minute dinners to serve their families. I made my way down some halls searching for snacks and sweet desserts.

“(L/n)? What are you doing here?” The voice belonged to Mrs. Saiki. I babysat their neighbor's son from time to time. Sometimes Mrs. Saiki would invite me over when I babysat so she could help me out. I was in the same class as her son Kusuo. He’s a rather quiet guy. We worked in a group once before. The both of us got along, I gave him his space. His friends surrounded him like a swarm of bees during class. Honestly I felt jealous of him.

“Mrs. Saiki, it’s a surprise to see you here. Shouldn’t you be at home with your family?” She nodded.

“We ran out of some seasonings so I came here to pick up some more. Now why are you here? Why aren't you at home with your parents?” The floor seemed really interesting now.

“My parents are overseas for work. I’m looking for snacks and such.” The look she gave me told me how pitiful I must have looked. Placing her hand on my shoulder, she brought me in for a hug. Tears stung my eyes as I held them back. No way I’ll cry in front of another. Soon enough she let go with a smile on her face.

“Hon you should join us for Christmas at our place.” Shaking my head I declined the offer.

“I couldn’t intrude on your Christmas dinner.” She insisted I join them. Claiming I shouldn’t be alone on a night ment for family and fun. “If it’s ok with you, then I cannot decline.” Her smile reminded me of a time, where my mother would watch as I style our tree with tinsel and lights. Before we left I grabbed some snacks then we made our way back to her house. I could see the light of a Christmas tree reflecting off the windows. As we approached the front door it opened for us. Saiki was standing there.

“Kusuo help (l/n) here with the bags, she’ll be joining us tonight.” Without a word he grabbed some bags and led us into the house. It was quiet yet lively. Their tree sparkled with the multicolored lights. Setting down the food in the kitchen I offered to help with dinner. Mrs. Saiki declined, then walked to the refrigerator. She pulled out two platters of coffee jelly. I never had it before but I’ve seen the dessert on shelves. “Give one to Kusuo and enjoy the other. Sit down and relax.” I did as told and found Saiki sitting at the table.

“Here, your mom sent me to give you one.” He took the platter from me and let me sit down.

“I have something for you, stay here.” His lips didn’t move as he talked, but that was no surprise to me. I knew of his powers.

—

One day when Mrs. Saiki invited me over. A bug flew in the kitchen. No one knew until Yuuta found it. He brought it into the living room where Saiki and I were. Shouting about the bug he found, I expected to find a ladybug in his hand. NOPE. It was a huge ass cockroach! About as soon as both Saiki and I realized what he had, the bug flew towards us in a flash. I wasn’t sure how it happened at the time but the bug was captured in a plastic container.

Shocked, I looked at the floating container and then Saiki. Yuuta was told to go wash his hands, while he did that's when I was informed.

—

I watched as Saiki came back down the stairs with something in his hand.

“Here, I noticed you were running low.”

It was a fresh sketchbook with brand new erasers and pencils.

“It’s nothing crazy but I figured I’d get it for you.” I smiled at him.

“No, it’s perfect. Thank you Saiki, I appreciate it. I’ll have to get you something in return.”

“No need, I may like to be left alone. I don’t mind you being around, you're a good friend to have.” I got to see a rare smile. “Also, just call me Kusou.”

“Alright then.”

—--

#saiki k x reader #saiki kusuo #kusuo saiki #the disaster of psi kusuo saiki #the disastrous life of saiki k.#x reader

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drawing-way-outside-the-lines · 1 year

Text

➖ Mature content, 18+ ➖ check the trigger tags each time ➖

Chapter 14 - Subtle Invitations. Episode 2.

Congo: *It was late in the night, way past 2 am, everyone had passed the point of tipsy and the mood was higher than it had been the past 5 months. We were all gathered around a big bonfire I had made with the help of Blake and Daniel. Jenna had left about an hour ago alongside George that had offered her a ride home, as he was the only one still sober. But everybody else was still here, some more drunk than others. Among them my dear husband. The conversation between him and Daniel had reached the point of perversion. And Andy was claiming he were more horny than ever. Not that that's anything new coming from his mouth, so I normally take it lightly. The conversation seemed to take another turn when Andy suddenly jumped up from where he were sitting in the grass.*

Andy: *He grabbed a can of Coke, shook it violently and proclaimed out loud, so everyone was sure to hear it* I'm so fucking horny I get wet in my pants just by thinking of Gizmo's ass, and let's face it, he aint got any! But man I would love to just… *he Placed the coke between his legs, he popped it open, thrust his groin forwards twice and made the Coke splurt out, making it look like him cumming*

Sparkle: *Sent a high pitch laughter over the garden and slapped her thighs* OMG! 'Im gonna piss myself!! Gaby: *She chuckled softly* that's not nice

Gizmo: *Laughed warmly* Well it's true! I don#t have an ass. Or at least the one I have is pretty flat. *He made a cheering gesture with his beer towards Andy* Aaaii! Cheers man! And thanks for the compliment.

Andy: *Chuckled hoarse* Sure man! Cheers!

Congo: *I chuckled softly, my work was done, and now I had to take care of the drunken teenager I had created in the process. As I sipped my beer I couldn't help but notice Evan. He was very quiet, more than usual. Plucking grass with his hands while Seemingly annoyed by the conversation, trying his best to focus on something else. I wondered if I should drag him away a bit and ask him what was up, but before I could make my way to him, I noticed Blake move from his position between Sparkle and Gaby, and make his way over to sit beside Andy. He leaned close to him, and said something in a lowered voice. I couldn't make out the words, but judging by Andy's following lip biting, I'm pretty sure a sexual offer was made. In a split second I saw Evan fly up from his spot, and in 3 large steps he reached Andy, and dragged him up by the arm, dragging him along, quickly disappearing somewhere in the shadows of the big trees.*

Blake: *Looked after them a bit puzzled*

River: *Looked a bit questioning at me, but as I shook my head lightly, he quickly grabbed a guitar and started playing softly* Is there anyone here around the fire that can sing? *he looked particularly at Sparkle, clearly already aware of the fact that the girl has a great song voice.*

Sparkle: *Blushed lightly* I guess I can sing… yes?

River: *Smiled softly, and it was undeniable he was beautiful with his blue eyes and his long silky blonde hair, swept to the side. Gentle almost feminine features, although I wasn't much for the tattoos creeping up his throat, or the overload of piercings in his ears* Do you by any chance know this one? *He started playing a melody that quickly made Sparkle smile and nod eagerly, clearly already knowing her taste in music as well, and within a few seconds, they both started singing:* https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_hOdfTMu4RY

-------Andy's point of view--------

Andy: *My heart raced as Evan pushed me roughly up against the wall of the house* Hey! What the fuck man?! I rubbed my back head gently as the pain of connecting with the wall stung like a bee* Watch it! I fucking hit my head now! What has gotten into you tonight?!

Evan: *His eyes looked borderline angry* Is that supposed to be a joke?

Andy: *I had absolutely no clue what had gotten into him* What the fuck are you on?!

Evan: *He scoffed and pointed in the direction of the fire where we could vaguely hear Sparkle and someone I expected to be River, sing.* You get an offer from Blake, and then you are already all over him?

Andy: *Alright I had no fucking clue what this was about, but it was clearly not Blake. Yes he had made me an offer, and although It was very tempting, looking into his honey coloured eyes, and his half long dark brown hair was definitely something I would like to dig my fingers into. Not to mention his trash polka tattoo covered arms and upper body, leaving my mind wondering just how far down those tattoos would reach?… DAMMIT Andy! Concentrate!*

Evan: *Slammed a fist into the wall* You are fucking thinking about him right now! Aren't you?!

Andy: *I was shocked by his behaviour. In front of me stood the guy that hated violence more than anything, using violence against me. Well, against the wall, but close enough to my face!* What the fuck is wrong with you man?!

Evan: *His voice reached the point of yelling* What the fuck is wrong with me?! What's wrong with YOU?! You have absolutely no problem fucking some guy you have only met twice! But… *His eyes were no longer angry, but filled with something that in the pale moon shine looked unmistakeably like despair.*

Andy: *Oh… so that's what this was about? I grabbed his hands gently and kissed both of them, and in the same way be able to check if his right hand was okay after colliding with the wall. It was. The knuckles a bit red, but no visible blood at least. I sighed softly* Evan… it's not like that… I have…

Evan: *His upper body sank forwards and as his forehead landed on my shoulder I quickly wrapped my arms around him* I know Andy *he sighed deeply* I'm sorry… I just…. I want you so much! *His nails digging hard into my hips as he dragged my lower body closer to his so I could feel his boner, only confirmed his hunger for me.*

Andy: I know… *my voice was already husky and deep. I wanted him too. Oh fuck I wanted him more than anyone can imagine. However, mentally I wasn't ready, and I had explained this to him a couple of times. My first time was…. complicated…. don't get me wrong. The sex was amazing. But the aftermath was complicated at it's best. I have never regret it, only the person I was with. I don't want Evan ending up in the same position. I want him to be more than sure this is what he really wants. With me. So he is sure to never regret it. An experience like that is bound to forever open or close a certain door. If he likes it, it only opens the door completely that we are already peeking through. And as much as I love him, and feel secure in his love to me, I'm not sure he is yet ready to fully admit to him being in a gay relationship. Which he would be forced to admitting, once he opened up to being the receiver, and not only the giver. On the other hand, if he doesn't like it, it closes any sexual relations in that department for good. Which I have to say I would be sad about, cause… well… if you had seen that ass of his, you would understand. It would be a lie to say it is easy saying no to him. Trust me, it's one of the hardest things I have had to do yet. I sighed softly* But Evan… I…

Evan: *He shook his head softly, still leaning his forehead against my shoulder* For once, couldn't you just be my asshole friend who bangs everyone that offers themselves?

Andy: *I chuckled softly* Hey… I don't bang the chicks any longer…

Evan: *He sighed softly and I could hear a soft chuckle build from somewhere deep inside of him*

Andy: *I kissed his hair gently* Look, it's not gonna be like this forever… we will walk down this road soon… but I also really want it to be something special when we finally do it… not just lusting like when A and I….

Evan: *He nodded softly* I know, and I agree fully… it's just… damn it's hard by now, and I can't even believe I'm standing here admitting that. I just… I want you so bad!… inside me…. you know…

Andy: *I bit my lover lip hard, afraid I was going to scream. This was pure torture! The man I love deeply, and by god he is fucking sexy on top of that, was telling me, he wants me inside him… FUCK!!! It's safe to say if I didn't already have a boner before those words, I sure had one now! And he noticed pretty quickly too.*

Evan: *His hands started fumbling quickly, trying to unbutton my pants, his lips quickly finding their way to mine, moaning as he let his tongue slide into my mouth, kissing me passionately, like there were no tomorrow*

Andy: *A snap from a dry twig on the ground made a quick interruption in our make-out session, and as we turned our heads, we saw Sparkle standing and looking at us surprised and baffled, and in a split second she turned around, behind her Blake appeared, but before he could get to see Evan and I, she quickly placed her hands on his cheeks and dragged his head down, French kissing him deeply I coughed lightly and made a sign to Evan to run off, he didn't argue with that and quickly disappeared behind some trees. I cleared my throat and lit a cig, chuckling hoarse as I casually blew out the smoke* Eyyy… get a room you two!

Sparkle: *She giggled softly and took a few steps back* Sorry about that Blake, I thought you were someone else…

Blake: *He bit his lips softly, and I didn't particular like the way he looked at her, like she was suddenly on the menu* That's alright… maybe I can pretend to be that guy for the night?

Andy: *I rolled my eyes, that had to be the lamest comeback I had heard… ever!* Blake! Hands off!

Blake: *Shook his head softly and smirked* Who made you the pussy police?

Sparkle: *It was clear to see his comment hurt her, and she had been through enough the past year, she didn't need a shitty comment like that to make an already touchy matter worse!*

Daniel: *His voice was firm and deep as it thundered in the shadows behind Blake* I did!

Blake: *I observed him turn around slowly, and before he could get to react, a fist hit him right in his face, making him take two steps backwards and grunt from pain*

Daniel: *His voice was ice cold, and it managed to even make me scared of the last guy I would ever be scared of… well, after Congo that is* Don't ever speak to her that way again, or I swear I will break your face.

Blake: *Pinched the back of his nose between two fingers as the blood started gushing out* I'm sorry man! I was only kidding! I didn't mean it like that, the words just came out wrong. I'm fucking drunk man! *He sighed from pain and frowned*

Daniel: *Nodded at Sparkle* Tell it to the girl, not me.

Blake: *He sighed again, and I couldn't help but sigh with him and hope that nose wasn't broken* I'm sorry Sparkle, it was a bad choice of words… I really don't see you like that, alright?

Sparkle: *She shrugged a bit* That's alright… *But I knew it wasn't, so I took a few steps forwards and lifted her up, just as her lip started quivering and the tears started falling, and I quickly carried her to the front of the house, judging by the quick footsteps behind me, Daniel was following. As I put her feet on the ground again she sniffled her nose and dried her eyes* Thanks Andy. *She placed her hands on my cheeks and kissed my nose softly* Is it okay if I just wanna go home now? The night pretty much ended for me there… but I had fun, don't worry. Maybe we can get together one of the next days? *She smiled softly and tilted her head a bit*

Andy: *I nodded softly* Sure… let's do something soon. But please don't thank me… thank YOU. You kinda saved Evan back there, and I know it means the world to him.. so thank you for that. *I sighed softly* Sorry about Blake… I don't think he's a bad guy or anything…

Daniel: *Scoffed irritated* No, he isn't… he just sometimes doesn't know how to act.

Andy: *I chuckled hoarse* Coming from you…

Sparkle: *Giggled softly, and it was nice to see her smile again* You two…

Daniel: *Chuckled softly* So… can I take the princess home or?

Sparkle: *She looked at him surprised* Are you coming with me?

Daniel: *Chuckled softly* No… but you are coming with me! *He grabbed her waist and in a strong movement threw her over his left shoulder, giving her ass a few gentle slaps* You can sleep in Evan's room. There is no cabs this late out here, and I'm way too drunk to give you a ride… so Evan's bed it is! *He looked at me and winked* Get back to your man, I got this! Just as he was about to leave with drunk Sparkle giggling on his shoulder, Congo showed up*

Congo: *Shook some bloody paper towels in his hand* Right, so.. luckily no broken bones. Anyone here in the need of a medic? *He sighed softly and shook his head* Is it too much to ask of you guys to talk more and use fists less? *He walked to Sparkles head end, planting a soft kiss on her cheek* Goodnight sugar, let Daniel take care of you. *He stroked her hair a few time as he smiled softly at Daniel* Get her home safe.

Daniel: *Nodded agreeing, and made a military stand* Roger that! We will be next door though, not Casa Sparkle.

Congo: *Chuckled softly and slapped Daniels ass* Well, giddy up horsy! Let me have a bit of alone time with my boy. *He chuckled warmly as Daniel made a few horse sounds and ran off with Sparkle, then he wrapped an arm around my shoulder and dragged me closer so he could kiss my forehead* I'm glad it for once wasn't you doing the punching.

Andy: *I smiled softly and nodded* I'm doing better yeah… how's Blake?

Congo: He could be better… he could be worse. I'm pretty sure he will end up blue and black tomorrow.

Andy: *I sighed softly* Well, he wasn't entirely innocent.

Congo: *Nodded gently, and planted another kiss on my forehead* Evan is in bed, I wrapped some frozen peas around his hand, it should feel better in the morning.

Andy:* I looked up at his warm face, and couldn't help but smile* Thank you.

Congo: *He smiled even warmer and kissed the tip of my nose* What are you thinking?

Andy: *I couldn't help but smile even more* You… how wonderful you always are… to everybody, not only me. *It was true. The man was the most warm-hearted helpful being I had ever come across. How was it possible not to love this man? And I once again felt more than grateful that I was the one who got to call him my husband.*

#unicornmanes #Andy Shaw-Thompson #Andycorn #Congo Shaw #Sparkle Diamondsheart #Gizmo Jensen #Gabriella Lupei #River D'Angelo #Rill #Blake Hamilton #Evan Thompson #Daniel Chase Hartwig

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finsterhund · 8 months

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I'm feeling really exhausted and sick today for some reason? Maybe it's my jaw being sore or stress or whatever. Idk.

Or maybe it's that I've started lighting my stupid fucking candles again and my asthmatic ass can't withstand the sheer might of their incendiary properties. Who fucking knows. Come to think of it I literally curl around them looking down on the light and feeling human so the smoke is going directly into my face.

But I'm using my thrifted candlestick holder which is brass and every fucking time I use it I feel like a goddamn wizard in a tower or some shit.

I need to find better ways to have fire in my bedroom. God I wish I had a fucking smithing shop. My friends have a 3D printer and I want to be the guy with the shiny ass rock material. I want a whole ass crucible. Imagine running around hoarding whatever scraps of various metals I like so I can melt them into a fucking morning star or some shit. The patterns for old padlocks are more simplistic than stuffed animal patterns provided you can actually make those pieces. Ahhgghhh every fucking month it's like my brain wants to put me into an entirely different trade that I have some level of autistic fixation on.

Particularly obsessed with the process of cleaning antique keys and making brand new but original design keys to fit locks that have long since lost theirs. The fucking lever lock wedge head keys are my fucking favourite. Cylinder lock keys of today are just so boring and ugly in comparison. Reminds me of those ugly luxury SUVs and minivans that look like they got stung by bees.

It came into my fucking head how many among us know what the keyhole shape is. I don't know if I just liked specific media like horror or what but keyholes were always something I was like "yeah. And they're shaped like that." And I fucking saw them often in places and pop culture. But cylinder lock keyholes are just some fucking jagged slit directly in the metal. At one point will there be more people who don't see the iconic keyhole shape and think "oh a keyhole. Yeah." Will that happen? Is the keyhole's place in pop culture too iconic for that to ever happen? Locks are still depicted in iconography with wedge keyholes. But will it just become a "the save icon" floppy disk thing? Speaking of, how overblown or widespread is that actually?

Uhhh I need to stop trying to write out my thoughts I'm pretty sure.

Point is uh

I like keys

And dog tags

And brass.

Other things too.

Shiny.

Also not exactly the same topic but why the fuck is it so hard to find actual colored glass these days? I'm talking pigment in the glass not a light ass surface coat of paint that gets scratched off because it scuffed against something metal on the table.

And NOW I'm remembering the discarded empty perfume bottles my grandma had at her house and they were in a little red velvet box and they were all different colors and looked like tiny vials of video game potions.

I just like pretty rocks evidently. You look at how I like colored transparent plastic with sparkles in it and that is literally just a pretty rock also. Humanity is all about food, friends, and discovering as many cool and pretty rocks as you can find or make. I can't believe I'm saying this but I'm actually missing living near the coast because shit there was sea glass. Fucking little glass colored rock treasures you can take them home and polish them and drill little holes and then make this big fucking thing with them all strung up hanging in the sky.

Little glass beads.

Also reminds me of amber I fucking love amber. Prehistoric plant rock. Prehistoric plant rock transparent colored shiny gem glass

Quilt is shiny gem rock except soft. Stuffed animal also. Pillow blanket tapestry colors soft.

INCANDESCENT BULBS

Yes. Same thing.

Okays anyway I think I will try to have a nap

#text post #negative

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back-and-totheleft · 1 year

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The Camera is the Rifle

OS: I read your bio this morning. I see we did parallel each other to some degree. What year were you born?

DB: I was born in ’49. You’re a couple of years older than me. I dodged the draft. You enlisted, right? I remember sitting for the draft lottery, wondering if I would have to go to Canada or Nam?

OS: I don’t know. You’re one of those wimp-assed, fucking east coast people that didn’t want to go in the Army. I can’t understand you guys. I mean you saw the Vietnam War as a disaster. I didn’t at that time.

DB: Yes, Welcome, Oliver Stone, to Flashpoints. It’s good to have you with us.

OS: Nice to be back. I was on a couple of years ago.

DB: Yes, A couple of years after we’ve spoken, I believe we met at the late Robert Parry’s house, where you were given the Gary Webb Award. And we also were traveling the same ground there as well. It is good to have you back with us Oliver.

I found your autobiography both moving and compelling. So much about war and the aftermath. I remember one time when I got stung by a bee, I was about 11, and my father caught me going out the door with a can of Raid. And he says, “where you going?” And I said I got stung by a bee and I’m going to go kill a whole bunch of bees. And he said did I ever tell you the story about how a bee saved my life? And I said no. He says yeah. Well I was in the ditches and we were taking a break and this bee started dive-bombing my dad. I think it was Sicily, the Battle of Bloody Ridge. And he said “So I got out of the trench and I went behind a tree to grab a smoke, and as soon as I got out of my hole there, a mortar hit and killed 9 of my best friends.” Then my dad made us some tea and sweetened it with a nice dollop of fresh honey from a beekeeper who was a regular in my dad’s cab.

OS: That sounds horrible.

DB: Soldier Dad said to me, “if I ever run into General Patton in a drug store or the candy store, I will punch his ass out.”

I really want to start with what Martin Scorsese said to you in Films chool, that I think you found very moving and a life changer. And Scorsese said it in response to your first black and white, 16mm film. He said to you in response to your film, “The person who is making it is living it.” That was sort of your degree, wasn’t it? That was the real degree you got from college and your mantra all the way through.

OS: I’d say that was the highlight of my 2½ years at NYU. Martin – or Marty as we knew him then – was a very down-to-earth, but very smart and was very entertaining as a teacher. We were making films, very cheap films – black and white, 16mm, and editing them, writing them, starring in them, shooting them ourselves; it was mostly pretty amateur work. But this stood out to him, and usually we were into auto-critiquing like the Chinese cultural revolution. So usually you get a lot of criticism after you showed a film in class. It was a hard go-around. And he just shut it up right away. He said this is a film-maker, which I know was my diploma.

DB: Yes, really. And it was a film about war.

OS: It was about my returning to New York, yes.

DB: From the war.

OS: And my casting aside the medals, that’s right. It was about all the junk you wanted – the veteran has to lose the memories that he was carrying in order to move on with life.

DB: Now you made these three amazing films, of course Platoon was the first in a trilogy, and that was all about your experiences in Vietnam. And I found it very moving. Could you talk a little bit about – you talk about terminology like friendly fire. There are these terms that you learn in war. Talk a little bit about the language of war in the context of that Vietnam War.

OS: Well, I went in and I was a volunteer, and I was sent over as a replacement troop into a unit at the 25th Infantry, which had lost some men, and we were all replacements. And it was very factory-like in the sense that people didn’t want to get to know you too much, because we didn’t really – there was none of that wartime this-is-your-buddy stuff. We all were trying to stay alive, and everyone was counting off the days until they had left. It was like working for a taxicab company, which I had done also. So it was a routine, and it was a tough routine. And sometimes it would work out that you would bond with somebody, but not necessarily.

I was talking about the three lies, the three biggest lies I witnessed in Vietnam, and I gradually learned them over the time I was there. Because a lot of guys were getting hurt by friendly fire, which is our own artillery, our own planes and our own fire – rifle fire, ground fire. There was a lot more of that than people thought there was, because were in the jungle in asymmetrical warfare, and sometimes people – stupid people – would shoot without knowing where they were shooting because they were thinking. The problem with a lot of that war was that US troops when they get under fire, whether it’s in Afghanistan or Vietnam, they just open fire. They just fucking go crazy. It becomes like a mad minute, and that doesn’t work. You put out a lot of fire, and of course the idea is that you scare off or you stop the enemy from advancing. It’s ridiculous, and frankly kills a lot of people, as well as civilians; a lot of them were killed.

And that was the second thing I saw: a lot of civilian deaths. And when we say – we just don’t admit it. Because if you look at the casualty figures in Afghanistan, I’m sure you’re going to find a lot more than you know about US bombs killing Afghans. And I think that is one of the hidden facts of all wars; civilian deaths.

And the third I said about it was that the biggest lie of all was that we’re winning this war, which is what they told us all the time. It was we’re not losing; we’re winning; we’re kicking ass; look at the body counts. But then on the other hand, the more of them you killed – and of course they were inflated body counts because they included civilians – the more of them you killed, they always seemed to be replaced.

So who knows? It was Alice in Wonderland; the American strategy was nuts. Cleaning out villages and making them move to other villages that were supervised by corrupt, government troops; it was not a solution. And the people were caught between two different forces. Naturally a lot of us started to resent them because we thought they were helping the enemy. So this led to all kinds of problems. But the biggest problem of all was from the top down, the leadership; and it was military. It wasn’t political. The military people that are hardcore will always tell you it’s politics and ended the war. And they’ll say the same thing about Afghanistan. But it’s not; it was just a shit situation in terms of military situation. And if you don’t want me to say shit, I can say it was just a hopeless situation in terms of the military.

DB: Thank you. You remember Pacifica and the seven dirty words, so we’ve got to be careful about that. So I’m thinking, when I – and I really enjoyed your reading of the book – I’m thinking that war really ends up being at the core of everything you do; even outside this trilogy that it has that deep impact. And one has to realize that so many young men come back wounded and never recover, and this becomes sort of the core experience. We used to make fun – my brother and I used to make fun of my father when he would keep retelling us the same war stories. You know, we sort of had them numbered and labeled. And we’d go ha-ha, and laugh behind his back. But this is at the core.

OS: A lot of veterans don’t talk about it, and they carry it inside. And I’m not so sure that’s very healthy either. I think by making those three films I was able to exorcise quite a bit of things that were inside me. As you know, I jumped around on all three subjects. The second one was about another young man who came from a small town, not like me, and who came back to a small town paralyzed. Ron Kovic’s Born on the Fourth of July. So that’s a powerful story, I think, of pre-war/post-war, as well as war; there was quite a bit of action in that movie.

The third story was the Vietnamese peasant wives and their point of view. A woman who grew up in a village, and that’s a true story. She wrote a book, I optioned the book, Le Ly Hayslip. We called the film Heaven and Earth. And it’s, I feel, one of my best movies; but it’s kind of –

DB: Very powerful film.

OS: It came too early and it was about Asians. So I figured the American people were not interested in that side of the story.

DB: Well I live with one, and I get that perspective. Back to Ron Kovic; another place where our lives overlap. My mom – we grew up on the Lower East Side, but my mom took us out to a place called Massapequa. Have you heard of that town?

OS: Sure. Massapequa is where Ron was from. I was there.

DB: And when – I mean this was a big thing. My parents used to shop in the Bohack; I think that’s what the store was called.

OS: Oh yeah, Bohack. I remember Bohack.

DB: Where Ron Kovic grew up. And then I remember hearing Tom Paxton for the first time singing this song; I don’t know if you’ve ever heard it. Born on the Fourth of July. And it’s got – the refrain is “I was born on the fourth of July, no one more loyal than I. When my country said so, I was ready to go, I wish I had been left there to die.”

OS: Never heard it. I’ve never heard it.

DB: It’s powerful – you know, I was thinking when I was going to see the movie, your movie, I was thinking oh, that’s going to be the theme song. But then I thought to myself, no. Because he tells the whole story, the whole story is in the song; why do the movie? But the movie was a life-changer for me as well, and I’m sure for many young men who had survived that draft and that war.

OS: Yeah, although it’s not referred to, interestingly enough, as a war film, and it’s left off those lists; but I consider it a war film, very much so. Because it’s about what the boy was like before and what he was like after. And what the family situation is at home as well as abroad. So you know, I don’t know. Things get lost. I love Born on the Fourth of July; I think it’s one of my best films.

DB: I agree. And it’s sort of how the whole – one person in the family goes to war and the whole family goes to war. I’m remembering a film that came out of World War II; I think it was called The Best of Our Lives. Do you know that film? Was it The Best of Our Lives? Where he comes home and he –

OS: Oh, The Best Years of Our Lives, yes. That’s a classic from William Wyler, 1946. Frederick March. Three men came back from the war and each one had a different fate in his hometown.

DB: Yes, and I remember as a kid watching it.

OS: And it certainly was an inspiration for Born on the Fourth of July, certainly. I saw that film more than once. It’s a great film.

DB: And it really does show how you’re sending a whole family to war.

OS: It’s one of the most honest films I think Hollywood ever made. Because in that period, the American viewer was going very back towards the right wing, back towards the Republican era, and those films were no longer made after that. That film in fact almost got Wyler into the black lists; it came close. It’s an interesting story.

DB: Really. That is something. And again, it was powerful. I think in part it was in black and white, I believe.

OS: Yes.

DB: I guess that’s what they were using at that point. Or maybe somebody just chose to do it in black and white. But that also made it a very powerful film.

OS: Yeah.

DB: Could you talk a little bit about – I want to sort of backtrack a little bit and I want to talk a little bit about your family, your dad, your mom. Your dad was a Jewish businessman who worked on Wall Street – hence the film Wall Street – back to the person who is making it is living it. And your mom was sort of a – I don’t know. These days we’d say a party girl. But she was the entertainer. She was having parties; she was out there. Could you talk about you parents and how they influenced you?

OS: You called it an autobiography, but I’d call it more of a memoir; because it becomes subjective, highly subjective. And it’s about my relationship with the two parents. And because I was the only child, it was seen like a perfect family to me; a triangle that was working. And when it fell apart suddenly – and that was in 1962 when I was 15, 16, and I was at boarding school – and I was shocked to be told on the phone so coldly that the divorce – the marriage was over. I mean it was like a 180° turn. And I was not consulted or anything, because it was going on and there was a lot of tension between the two that I knew nothing about. Which was kind of a shock to me, and a coming-of-age kind of thing where you’re 15 and you say well, it’s a whole other world that I’m in now. The parents separate and it’s no longer “a family”; there is no family anymore. And especially if you’re an only child it’s just – you’re all on your own now, basically. And that’s what happened to me. I ended up in those years kind of being very disturbed, and eventually going – I went to Vietnam twice.

But my mom was, what did you say, a party girl? Yes. But in those days that was not wrong. It was a woman of a certain means – if she had means – would not work. It was acceptable. No longer, but my mother of course was very supportive of the family, and of my father. And she thought she was contributing with her grace and her charm and her party-giving to his career as a broker. And she did. So there is an alliance, a partnership between the parents.

My father was, as depicted in the book, also a very strong man, like my mother; both very strong people. And I wrestled with my father when I came back from Vietnam because he was supporting the war. And he was an Eisenhower Republican, and a smart one; not stupid at all. He wrote about it for a while, and he wrote a monthly letter. But he had a view of the world that was very Republican. It certainly influenced me and I was conservative. But it took me years to undo that; years to kind of see the real world the way it was devolving for me, not for him. He came out of The Depression; I can understand his feelings. And he was always very strongly anti-Roosevelt. So I had to learn my own – I had to figure it all out gradually as I was going along.

And so let’s say by my 30s – the book centers on the first 40 years. And when I was 30, I was very depressed. Nothing was working; my life was not working. And I wrote the book on the idea that I wanted to show younger people what it’s like growing up in that time period, and how because I had a dream about being a filmmaker, I achieved it finally. I achieved it against great odds; so many rejections of my material, including The Platoon. More than once it almost got made. But basically from my 1987, ’86, when I was 40 years old, I had broken through, and it was a tremendous overnight success. Platoon was amazing; it went around the world. Elizabeth Taylor was giving me an Academy Award; best picture, best director, it was a fairy tale. And you can’t end a book better than that. I mean you achieved the dream after so much rejection and pain that it means something so much more to you and it was very sweet.

So maybe the story should end there at the age of 40. But it doesn’t; there’s another story in this, it goes on. I have to write still; it’s another book I want to do.

DB: Another book. And what is it about film that you chose as your main medium for?

OS: Well because I had written a book before I left. I had written a novel when I was 19 years old, and it was very – partly out of that pain and that loneliness; the divorce and the isolation. The sense of separation from a family; a lot of pain. It came into this book, an autobiographical novel. Which was pretty amazing. It was published years later as A Child’s Night Dream in 1997 by St. Martin’s Press. Which was an interesting book; a lot of craziness in it. Written by a 19-year-old really; it’s a 19-year old’s book. And I look back on it fondly. But it shows me – in other words, I was a writer. But when I came back from the Vietnam War, I no longer was satisfied with being a novelist. What I had seen was so visceral over there, and so in-your-face; six inches in front of your face. Your eyes, what you see and hear and smell. You have to become a 360°, full-contact person. And that’s not really what a novelist does. A novelist is very much in his head. You cannot be in your head in the field. You have to be alert and you can’t be thinking these things. So you kind of achieve another kind of viscerality, which I can’t explain quite until you pick up a camera and you can relive it. The camera gives you that viscerality, that sense of being the rifle. The camera is the rifle; it shoots. And it shoots what you want it to shoot.

So I basically came back from the war as an infantry soldier, as a filmmaker; wanting to be a filmmaker, a wanna-be. And that’s where I learned how to make them at NYU gradually. It took me a few years to get to the place where I could have some success. My first success was at 30 with The Midnight Express. No, I’m sorry – yes. No, it was at 32 with Midnight Express, 33; after that 30. At 30 years old it looked –

DB: Yeah, that was in – you made that – and that actually won an Academy Award for best adapted screenplay.

OS: Yes, it did. After that I was in the business; I was accepted in the business, and it was up and down. The business has a thousand pitfalls, and I certainly go into some of them. And I think it’s very illuminating for younger people who want to pursue the arts to see this story and feel it.

DB: And pursue you did, courageously. You know the book; we’re talking about Chasing the Light; Writing, Directing and Surviving Platoon, Midnight Express. Scarface Salvador and the Movie Game. And it opens up with you completing your first film, which is Salvador. You’re making it in Mexico. And I really want to ask you how you had the courage; how you could go forward in the face of having to deal with and juggle. Not only are you worrying about doing the film, but you’re worrying about having the whole thing pulled out from under you if you go over budget.

OS: Listen, Salvador was –

DB: How do you do that?

OS: How do you do it? You do it by learning. And learning – in Vietnam there was an expression: on the job, or learning on the job training; on the job training. You just do it. And that’s what happened. It was one of the worst nightmares you could ever have as a filmmaker. I could never survive it now. I was – I didn’t know better. But there was just no money; it was a dream from the beginning. I pushed that dream. I wanted to make the film. It was about war in Central America. And I went down there with a crazy journalist who was a friend of mine who lived through some of these experiences, and I based the film on his story. But we were so – between our desire and our execution there was quite a bit of a problem, so it took – it was an insane story. You have to read it to understand it. And an English company bailed us out. It was an English producer named John Daley who was taking chances in the 1980s, ’85, and he made both films. He made Platoon and Salvador. So without him it would not have made it. No American company would touch Salvador or Platoon. No American company would finance it, do you understand? That’s what’s really depressing. And it’s still going on.

DB: Why do you think that is?

OS: Well because they want to make money, and they thought that Stallone was the answer with his bullshit Rambo films. And Chuck Norris, the other guy who’s another right-winger, was perfect for the American people. It was what they wanted to hear, but it was not true. It was called Missing in Action and Chuck Norris made about three or four films about it, which was – that was the vogue. That was the vogue. And by the time I came along I thought it was over. I put Platoon in the closet and I said forget it; they’ll never make it. It was almost made, but it never got made. And then I gave up, and out of the blue three or four years later John Daley committed to it and he came through. He came through on both films, and both films became hit successes for me. Huge hits; I mean certainly Platoon.

DB: Wow. And why did you make that film? Why El Salvador?

OS: Well because it was a great story. It was a great story about war. Central American war is a dirty, dirty, dirty story about America. The same kind of mindset that created Vietnam was involved in 1980. Salvador, in Honduras, in Guatemala and in Nicaragua. Remember the Nicaraguans were having a revolution, the Sandinista Revolution. And the American government took a strong stance against it because they thought it was Communistic. Actually it was about land reform and making the lot of the poor in that country, or the people, most of the people, making it a better situation for them. But that’s not the way the American people saw it. So we supported dictators in those regions ever since; we always have. We want stability over any kind of uncertainty.

DB: You know the thing is it’s impossible to get that information out, in terms of the relationship that the US government has with for instance the death squads in El Salvador.

OS: It’s come out, but no one wants to listen. Yeah, we always support the death squads. And in Vietnam certainly there were death squads. Americans fought another war; it was a covert and a dirty war where we killed people. Peasants that were seen as progressive. And the same thing went on in Afghanistan. I mean you have no idea. There’s this other – one sector is the military and then the other sector is what now becomes the contractor at war. Which is to say you have a contract and you go out and you do your dirty work for the government; and you kill a lot of people who are seen as oppositional.

I was joking with somebody the other day. I said yeah; the Americans should let all the Afghanis in who worked with them. That means all the bad guys too. The Americans have this picture of the people who worked with them as all these good guys. Some of them were. But a lot of them were bad-ass people who were getting – who were doing a lot of killing and a lot of spying, killing. In other words, war is ugly. And we used everything we could to win that war. We used torture; we used all these sci-op techniques. It was very important for us to win the hearts and minds of the peasantry, which we never did; either in Vietnam or in Afghanistan.

DB: You say that it’s reported in the US, but not really. I don’t think in the United States your everyday, average citizen knew, for instance in El Salvador, that there was a guy named Roberto D’Aubuisson who once turned – told a German photographer that you Germans did the right thing; you killed all the Jews. Or drawing straws to shoot the archbishop through the voice during the eucharist. I don’t think –

OS: Plus there’s a whole dark side of the American story. I mean it’s true in every country in South America since we’ve had dictators everywhere. And wars; Argentina there were death squads all over the place, and in Brazil earlier than that in the ‘60s, and in of course Chile in ’71, or ’73 rather.

DB: ’73, right. September 11th; 9/11. When I saw the twin towers going down, I thought the Chileans are taking revenge. It’s September 11th, and the United States with the CIA overthrew the duly elected government of Allende.

OS: And not only that, we cooperated with the new government in picking out – I mean lists of people to be examined an often thrown out of helicopters or tortured. In other words as we did in Indonesia. Everywhere we go, we do this. There’s no fun to have in this story at all.

DB: Right. And I think that’s part of the gift of your work, Oliver Stone, that you put in film what we can’t, what we journalists can’t seem to get people to understand in terms of where your tax dollars are going. I’m just reading that I think they’re upping the defense budget big time. Meanwhile they’re hassling over whether they want to have a budget that’s going to support human life and people having a place to live and hospitals.

OS: Yeah, I know. And we have to bring all the people that we owe; our collaborators in those countries. They’ve been kicked out; they can’t work there; they’ll be killed. So they come and move to the United States. I suggest that they move to Miami and join the other; all the people that work with the Cuban exiles. Some of them are murderers and torturers, and they blow up anything. They’ve done it so many times. They go back into South America and they help the Chileans and they help the Argentinians with their dirty wars. In other words, we have a whole mini population of murderers and torturers in our country who were given sanctuary here.

Oh by the way, you have to include the South Vietnamese who did it over there, and they are moved into Orange County and here in Los Angeles. So we have communities of that.

DB: And then the history is rewritten. I mean we love the fact that –

OS: They become the victims. They become the people who got screwed, so to speak.

DB: There was a Vietnamese writer from South Vietnam, who wrote this – sort or rewrote history. It was about worshiping the ladder that was allowing the last Vietnamese to escape the Communists in the last helicopter.

OS: Propaganda.

DB: Propaganda; a lot of propaganda. You do say in this memoir that it’s really about – where is it that I wanted to quote? It’s about sort of living for the dream. You say this is a story about making a dream at all costs. How do you – what is it that allows you to sustain that dream? So many people give up pretty early in the game. What really matters?

OS: You know, I think tenacity is as much a part of success as anything. Anger certainly was there; it’s been steady. Anger at what we do in these situations and how we lie about it. It remains. It’s not the only focus of my life, of course. I have managed to balance my life out with happiness too. But certainly there’s a lot of residual anger there about what we’ve done and are still doing. What the hell are we doing with this budget, with our budget? I mean our support of this military empire that we’ve created is beyond belief; beyond belief. After all the screwups we’ve seen, and we’ve seen it time and again from Vietnam to Iraq, one and two basically. And then of course Afghanistan and Syria; we had no business doing what we did. So it’s just a whole ideological warfare that we do, but there’s no point to it. It doesn’t do the world any good. It just creates bodies and destruction. We bring destruction and we call it peace.

DB: You have had some pretty strong critiques of your work. You’ve been successful, but a lot of people get very angry; for instance around JFK. Is it because the truth hurts?

OS: Oh, I guess it does. They don’t want to admit it. You’re asking me an obvious question. Why would they get angry? There’s a long list of people who’d like to see me, among others, see me dead.

DB: Right. And when you raised the issue about JFK; I mean you did the film, and I understand you’re still working on the story of JFK.

OS: The story never went away, because it was never solved. We just made – I made a documentary called JFK Revisited. It’s going to be released in November of this year in the United States. We showed it at Cannes very successfully; we sold 10-12 countries and it’s coming out here in November. So the case has never ended; they never solved it. The investigations kept coming. Our film created a third investigation called The Assassination Records Review Board, and they interviewed a lot of people who were still alive back in ’94 and ’98. And they wrote up these things that were said and done, and a lot of people had provisionist stories to tell. And of course it was ignored for the most part. It was really ignored by the media. Americans love to say well, we’re going to make an investigation, another investigation. But then they never follow up because it’s tedious over four years to follow all the little details. Well we did. The people in this JFK research community did follow it, and there’s a lot there. There were – 60,000 documents were declassified, and almost two million pages.

On the other hand, Trump backed down at the last second and he was swamped with CIA objections; and he put a lid on it and he changed the law. He basically did it illegally; not with the authorization of Congress. And now the law is – they’re not respecting the law. We still have these 20,000 documents that are still classified. And there’s a lot there. There may not be, but you have to get into the CIA people. The CIA has been most obstructive to the investigation. They don’t release the files on some of these key agents that appear around the edges of the story, like David Atlee Phillips, George Joannides in Miami, or William Harvey who was around the Cuba operation. There’s a lot there, but who knows what’s in there?

But the point is we accepted the Warren Commission, which was a joke. We go back in the film and show the basic evidence: the bullet, the rifle, the fingerprints, everything that matters in a murder trial. And we show it to be completely phony. There’s not one piece of evidence that really holds up against the so-called Oswald killer routine. It’s disgusting.

DB: What do you think? You’ve spent so much time; what are some of the basics that people should know, that should be taught in the history books; in the alternative history books?

OS: I’ve written about it, and the documentary is made. I don’t think in the time we have, Dennis – I’ve been on almost an hour and I do have other things I have to do today. I don’t think there’s time to go into it all. It’s about Oswald, it’s about the evidence, it’s about the Warrant Commission itself and how crooked it was. All this has come out in declassifications. We have to cover a lot of bases, and there’s no one headline.

Also, the big question is why, why, why was Kennedy killed? I keep re-emphasizing that. And I can tell you that our history books are still screwed up. I mean if you were to believe them, Mr. Johnson, Lyndon Johnson, succeeded Kennedy smoothly and continued his policies in Vietnam. This is rubbish; complete rubbish. We have proof now through declassification that Kennedy was absolutely withdrawing from Vietnam, win or lose. And they said that’s what he told McNamara; McNamara said it in his book. He was Secretary of Defense. William – McGeorge Bundy, who was pro-Vietnam war, also says it very clearly in his book. These things are written years after. People don’t pay attention. The historians still go on with that nonsense about Lyndon Johnson was a successor. But he changed everything in the foreign policy of Kennedy. Everything from Vietnam to Cuba to – Kennedy was working on another détente with the Soviet Union and Johnson never did anything towards détente. He moved the other direction, encouraged dictatorships and overthrew a government in Brazil, and all over the world, in Greece in 1967. You see a complete repudiation of the Kennedy doctrine. Kennedy had the Alliance for Progress in South America; out the window with Johnson. In Africa, Kennedy was making huge strides to make allies with a whole new generation of Africans; all out the window. In Asia of course, Kennedy was working with Indonesia; he liked Sukarno. With Johnson they get rid of Sukarno and there’s the bloodiest coup d’états of all time; a million people are killed because they were so-called Communists. But those are lists of course put together by the American CIA, and it’s just murder. That’s what it was, just outright murder. Anything the – stuff the Nazis did; just killing people and getting away with it. The world has gotten very violent and ugly, and we’ve played a huge role in bringing that about.

And of course, Dennis, you’re an hour in now. I do have to get out of here.

DB: All right, sure. All right. Well, I want to thank you for joining us. Can I just ask you, are there any more feature films coming up? Is there – are you in a different place now?

OS: Yeah, I’m in a different place. I’ve made a nuclear energy documentary, which is very, very fact-based and I think will be very interesting and possibly move some marbles around here. Because we need to get going and get clean energy. We’ve got to get the CO2 out of the fucking system; out of the system. And it’s going to take a lot of work. People are dreaming when they think about if windmills and sun are going to do the whole job, they’re not. Certainly they’re good, but they need a lot of help. And we’re not going to make it unless we use nuclear energy, and a lot of it. A lot of it. So there has to be a change in thinking.

But it’s not just us; it’s the whole world that we have to change. The whole world.

-Dennis Bernstein, "The Camera is the Rifle: an Interview With Oliver Stone," Flashpoints, CounterPunch, Sept 24 2021 [x]

#oliver stone #podcasts #chasing the light #counterpunch #dennis bernstein #audio

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espytalks · 1 year

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wow, i've had an afternoon, my friendos, lemme tell ya

so it's spring. insects are a thing. and i also let my dogs do their business in the backyard. sometimes i watch em, sometimes i don't.

i opened the back door, i feel something tap the back of my head. i look around, but i don't see anything, so i figure it was just my imagination and get on with my day.

like almost literally a minute later, i'm walking back into the room cause i went to the other room to do something, i look and i see.. a fruckin.. a whole ass bee, buzzin right by the back door.

i'm afraid of insects, specifically of getting bitten or stung, and i have real bad anxiety, so this wasn't good. i texted my brother, hoping for some advice on what to do. It settled on the curtain by the door. i tried calming myself down and getting a cup while i waited for him to respond, but i couldn't work up the nerve to get close enough to catch it, otherwise one of this woulda been a big deal.

a couple minutes later as i decided to try and cover myself up to protect myself from a sting, he called, and asked me to look for some wasp killer; we don't have any, and he ended up calling my "aunt" to come over and help.

got a notification then that my grocery order is on the way.

she lives like a two minute car ride away, so her an one of her kids who likes bugs came over, and right before they did, the order came. i told em where it was, and he caught it and took it outside while i rushed to bring everything in.

we hugged, said hello and goodbye real quick, cause she had things to do, and i kinda just.. had to finish all my stuff while dealing with the aftermath of adrenaline and panic. i actually was in the middle of meal prepping, so i couldn't just autopilot the groceries and relax, but i finished it all about 10 minutes ago, so now i can just chill. i'm gonna make an easy dinner, cause i'm exhausted.

i feel really silly. it's just a bee. I like bees! i saw it, it's slow, but i just couldn't work up the nerve to take care of it myself. if my mom were here, she woulda talked me through it. i feel stupid and silly, and i took time out of three people's day because of my fear. I'll be 30 years old in october, i'm too old to be acting like this.

i'm trying to be better and not dwell on putting myself down. it's just kinda hard sometimes.

#espy talks #tl;dr a bee got inside. panic ensues. everything's fine now tho

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thychesters · 4 years

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i feel like i'm eternally doomed to accidentally reblogging your fic to one of my animal-oriented sideblogs

this sounds like a thinly veiled attempt to tell me to go outside already and i mean i’m sure you’re right but also no

#misskirby #asks #the one time i got stung by a bee it stung me on the ass #i know it’s december but i’ve already been hurt before so no ❤️#lmao for real thank you though

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emile-hides · 3 years

Text

Crybaby imagines

I can’t find any BNHA X Reader blogs with their requests open, so heck it. Make the content you want to see in the world.

MHA Blonde boys react to reader crying (for various reasons)

Characters: All Might, Present Mic, Fatgum, Aoyama, Ojiro, Kaminari, Bakugo, Honenuki, Monoma, Mirio

All Might

1-A is an amazing bunch

It sort of just all hit you like a truck, really

How much 1-A had grown, how much they’d overcame

You’re not even entirely sure what sparked the thought process

But once it stared, you couldn’t stop

You were just so?? Proud??? Amazed???

Suddenly you were crying at your desk in the teacher’s lounge

Quiet, heavy tears

Your co-workers took notice, but it was Toshinori who approched your first asking what was wrong

You hadn’t even noticed you were crying

When you get into the why he’s all ears

He sits next to you and is soon joining in on the kid’s progress

He talks mostly about Bakugo and Midoriya, you go on about Asui and Koda

It turns to laughing and quietly bullying the kids for a moment as you two enjoy some of the sillier memories

Soon Toshinori, too, has tears in his eyes

He sobs more than you did

He’s just so proud of these kids!!

You feel like an old married couple talking about their 30-something kids living far from home

Kind of silly considering they’re all 15 and currently in class right down the hall

You two have to go see them during lunch break

Present Mic

Crying in Solidarity

You stood with Hizashi in front of a grave of a kid you never knew on an overcast day

He’d normally make a comment about the weather matching the mood but...

Not now

His fists were clenched, and though his smile stood strong and his glasses hid his eyes

They couldn’t catch his tears

You held his hand in silence and pretended not to notice the falling of his facade

It happens very seldom

He was shaking, you could hear his breath hitch hard despite his attempts to remain calm

You didn’t know this Shirokumo kid, you’d never met him, you couldn’t pick him out in a crowd if you had to

You didn’t even know who he was to Hizashi

But you knew it tore him up inside that he was buried here

You knew he kept his emotions well contained for everything else but him

You pulled Hizashi a bit closer, letting him lean onto you as tears began to run down your cheeks

The two of you stood in silence and cried on this, an overcast day

The weather really did match your mood.

Fatgum

Crying in relief

The hospital door opened with a loud slam

You didn’t really mean to slam it so hard but now wasn’t the time to go apologizing to inanimate objects for being a little rough

Your voice shrilled even louder than the door the name of the patient laying on the bed in the center of the room

Taishiro looked up with a face of ‘Oh shit’ which was the correct face to have

You were mad for all of the time it took to yell about how worried you were

FIRST OF ALL he didn’t even call to tell you he was in the hospital, you got that information from Tamaki

Second, you barely even know what HAPPENED to land him here

And THIRD,

Nope. Anger’s gone. Evaporated like a puddle in mid July.

Taishiro had sat up in his bed with a nervous smile, peppering in the nicknames and speaking in the gentle voice as he reached out to console you

Just seeing him sit up, his arms bandaged lightly around the wrist

It all just came crashing in

He was fine.

Tears over flowed as you cried a bit louder than you had yelled previously

Hiccuping and gasping out how worried you were and how mad you still wanted to be

Taishiro just laughed an apology as he hugged you, thankful for your concern

He promised to call next time

You found yourself yelling at him to never do this again

Aoyama

Crying on command

Acting was something you had mastered

More or less anyway

You dove head first into a role and you were damn good at it

But everyone has weaknesses

You’d locked yourself in Aoyama’s room, going over lines and choreography for some little play in the park you two had signed up for

Now you sat on his floor as he painted your nails, glaring daggers into the script

You had to cry.

It seemed so easy. Think of something sad and cry over it on stage. Simply.

and yet your eyes remained dry, your stage make-up perfect

Aoyama had been couching you, weeping all sorts of tears for your amusment

It wasn’t helping

You turned your glare to Aoyama, who was completely enthralled in drawing tiny art pieces into your nails

God he was bright

....bright.....

You looked directly up at the light on the ceiling and stared

Your eyes wide you forced yourself not to blink

It hurts

And it worked

You looked back to Aoyama with tears streaming down your face and searing pain in your retina

He applauded your dedication

Ojiro

It’s all just a lot

You weren’t really sure when it all became so much

But everything you’d been working at and training for suddenly weighed more than you could bare

You found yourself in the middle of the UA empty halls, flat on the ground on your stomach

Tripping was the breaking point

The straw that broke the camel’s back, as they say

You just started sobbing

When you heard footsteps coming you just kind of... wiggled out of the way

Pressing yourself to the wall you just continued to cry to yourself, curled in a ball, expecting the other person to just pass you by

Instead a soft white handkerchief gently pressed to your cheek, followed by a quiet “Are you okay?”

You were not okay.

Ojiro sat himself beside you as you wiped your face, continuing to sob

You didn’t offer an explanation, he didn’t ask for one

He sat in the hall quietly with you, his tail giving the occasional swish to brush your cheek of tears

The silence gave to time to catch your breath, and realize class probably started a long time ago

When you got up to be on your way, he joined you

He didn’t offer to walk you where you needed to go, he simply did

His quiet wave, his silent smile, his patient glances at you

It all made everything feel just a bit lighter

The next time you’d see Ojiro in the halls, he’d smile at you

And he’d be delighted if you could smile back

Kaminari

Crying from shock

It was just a little zap to the hip, a little bee sting

He’d been doing it to everyone in class, learned it from some stupid tiktok

When it was your turn to get stung, you let out the loudest yelp in the class

He laughed at first, proudly proclaiming how he’d gotten you

Until you whipped to him with fury in your eyes, along with tears

His panicked “Shit, wait, I’m sorry” fell on deaf ears as you quickly gave him a return jab in the hip

Without the actual shock part it probably wasn’t as painful

So you did it a few more times for good measure

Then he jabbed you again

And it was on

Jabs to the hip turned to jabs to the gut, armpit, neck, even right dead center in his chest

You were both in pain and sure to be covered in bruises when Iida finally separated you two

It was hard to see with the tears swelling in both your eyes

But when Denki made direct eye contact with you before giving a glance to Iida, you knew

You nodded, an evil smirk crossing your face

The two of you took your index and middle fingers, driving them quickly and roughly into the class rep’s hips simultaneously

His yelp had the entire class laughing

It then also had the entire class in study hall for the rest of break

Bakugo

He’s just kind of a dick

Standing outside of class 1-A you felt as though your heart was beating in your throat

When the door opened you jumped out of your skin as a green haired boy came out at full speed

He managed to stop on a dime before slamming into you though

You choked out the courage to ask him if Katsuki Bakugo was in class

The kid before you stared in shock before turning around and calling for a “Kacchan”, telling him someone was here to see him

You glanced in the door and watched as several people pried the man you wanted to see from his seat, shoving him forcefully to the door

They all then slammed the door behind him, keeping the green haired kid who seemed in a rush to leave trapped inside

He barked a what at you that made you reconsider all your choices

Still. You swallowed all your courage, and said what you came here to say.

You confessed your feelings to Bakugo, bravely.

He stared at you with a face of utter confusion, and it managed to catch you a bit off guard

He looked like he didn’t know how to respond

Which he, of course, didn’t.

So he responded the only way he really knows how

Anger.

“WHO THE HELL EVEN ARE YOU?!”

He called you some background extra. What gave you even the slightest though he’d want to be with some nobody he didn’t even know the name of

Within seconds of his screaming the 1-A doors slammed open yet again

The group who’d peeled Bakugo from his seat before jumped from the room and began wrestling him into submission, berating him for his treatment of you

But you were inclined to agree with him

You told them it was fine. He was right, you were just some nobody

You couldn’t stop your voice from shaking, tears streaming from your eyes as you gripped tightly at your shirt

Not knowing really what else to do, you turned and ran away

It was well over a few hours later, and you were still crying alone in the court yard

You flinched at the sound of footsteps approaching you. You closed your eyes and planned to make a run for it somewhere else to avoid bothering anyone

“Hey, dumbass,” a hand placed on your forehead, pulling you back to lean on the person behind you, “You could do a lot better than an ass like me.”

You glanced at Bakugo, who was looking far into the distance, his ears red

You cried and apologized. He didn’t say much else, but his hand remained on you, keeping you in place

You found yourself invited out more, running around with Bakugo and his friends, being rowdy and dumb as teens should be

Your crush on Katsuki Bakugo soon became a distant memory as he grew to be one of your closest friends

Honenuki

Yawning

You flopped dramatically onto the common room couch and let out the loudest, most drawn out sigh you could muster

This act of pure drama drew the attention of Juzo Honenuki, who simply chuckled at your antics

You stretched like a cat across the couch, reaching for him lazily with one hand, you swatted at the book he’d been comfortably reading

He gave another chuckle and inquired what you were after

You answered with an equally dramatic and drawn out yawn, bringing tears to your eyes as you again stretched to him

You then closed your eyes and snuggled into a couch pillow

Honenuki’s hand stretched across the couches and found itself on your head, giving gentle pets back and forth

Once he found himself a good stopping point, Honenuki put his bookmark in place and snapped the book closed

He gave a stretch and a yawn before encouraging you to your feet

You lazily tangled your arms around one of his and draped yourself over him

The two of you walked to your separate dorm rooms arm in arm, occasionally letting out more and more exasperated yawns and sleepy giggles

Monoma

Crying from pain

This was... probably your fault?

You remembered running into Awase from class 1-B while going a bit too fast though the halls

Next thing you knew you were in front of him, on your ass, staring up at him upside down

It took a minute for the pain to register, but as soon as it did tears stung your eyes

You couldn’t even really say anything as Awase’s eyes filled with panic when he’d realized what he’d done, quickly dropping your arm and stepping back, probably planning to make a run for it

The is until his blond classmate came up behind him, pressuring him to apologize in a loud, negging tone

When Awase again avoided your eyes, opting to shove his hands in his pockets as he glared at the wall, Monoma dropped to his knees and offered you assistance

The question of “Do you need to go to the nurse?” was accompanied with a handkerchief dabbed at your eyes

Monoma helped you to your feet, apologizing for his classmate, assuring you you were fine and didn’t need to report this to a teacher because you were clearly fine look at you you’re fine

I mean you weren’t bleeding so... Yeah? You were fine.

He sounded like he’d be the one in trouble if you told someone about Awase self defense flipping you over his shoulder

When he offered again to walk you to the nurse, you declined

He was right, you were fine, just a bit sore

You wiped the tears from your eyes and thanked him for his concern as you walked passed him

You also apologized to Awase for bumping into him, though he just huffed a response

You didn’t get very far when you heard quick steps following close behind

Monoma was just checking in to make sure you for sure weren’t going to tell anyone class 1-B’s Awase threw you like a rag doll

He also just figured while he was here he’d ask if there was anything he could do to make up for this incident

Like... buy you lunch sometime.... Or take you out to a nice cafe he knows after school... maybe...?

He just. Didn’t want you to think class B does hit and runs like this on all the pretty students

Mirio

Crying from laughing

Your sides hurt

You gripped onto yourself as you leaned onto Mirio, cackling harder than you had in a while

He was retelling some jokes he’d gone over with Sir Nighteye at his internship today, regaling you, Tamaki, and Nejire with perfect one-liners and horrid puns

You all were laughing far too hard for this late at night

Tears pricked your eyes as you slapped at Mirio’s leg, gasping for breath you begged for a time out

You have the most contagious laugh, Mirio was positive his jokes only ever landed because you laughed at them so easily

When you finally caught your breath you sat up, rubbing giggly tears from your eyes

You gave a glance around the room and found Tamaki doing the same, though his tears were from the yawn he’d just given

All three of you watched Tamaki adorably shifts as he rubbed the tired from his eyes, something he flushed over when he’d finally noticed the attention

Nejire declared that meant bedtime and hopped from her seated position, pulling Tamaki along with her

In a matter of moments she was dragging the tired boy out of the room to their own dorms

You and Mirio chuckled at her antics before you too got up to get going

Mirio offered to walk you to your dorm, which wasn’t far down the hall, but he made such a show of it how could you say no?

Of course he spent the whole walk telling even more terrible jokes that continued to crack you up

By the time you’d gotten to your dorm you were so giggly you couldn’t see straight

Mirio waved as he turned and walked the 5 feet back to his own room

He then turned around and waved again, claiming he already misses you

You giggled at him and returned to your own room

He loved your laugh.

#Emile's Arts #BNHA X Reader #MHA X Reader #All Might #Toshinori Yagi #Present Mic #Hizashi Yamada #Yuga Aoyama #Mashirao Ojiro #Denki Kaminari #Katsuki Bakugo #Juzo Honenuki #Neito Monoma #Taishiro Toyomitsu #Fatgum #Fat Gum #I was going to do Toga as well #But all it was going to be was crying over Magne cause that's my mood so #I'll write toga another time #BE THE CONTENT YOU WISH TO SEE IN THE TAG #I say that #and if I actually followed that I would write nothing but Monoma content all the time #and Inasa I should write more for Inasa #80% of these can also be seen as platonic because I didn't feel like doing much else #I apologize openly for Bakugo I was thinking of something highly specific #Also please know a good half of these with the students are General Studies Reader #or support course student reader #Because I didn't feel like thinking too hard about hero course reader #I am in a sit on the ground and cry for no reason mood tonight and so that is the content I create #Please enjoy. Send requests if you want to. I dunno man this is 99% for me

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muffindaddystyles · 3 years

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prompt 1 with older brothers best friends!harry 👀

1. “Everyone keeps telling me you’re the bad guy.”

8. “I said stop staring at me.”

23. “I have a name and it’s not sweetheart.”

Third wheeling could never be fun. Not when you’re basically not even a wheel but an invisible person on a vacation watching couples kiss and yada yada.

“For fuck's sake.” Y/N grumbles changing a side snatching the blanket that got stuck under her and sandwiches her face into a pillow when she hears the steel roof atop her creak furiously accompanied by high pitched obnoxious moans.

Y/N's brother brought her along to their Italy trip, his wife’s bestfriend and his own bestfriend tagged along too leaving only Y/N to grump about their wild sex rendezvous.

She’s sleepless, homesick and probably about to get a stomach bug for living in yacht for four days atleast!

What’s so fun about jiggling in your sleep? None perhaps and the waves crashing at night that threatens you to swallow you down to the pit of ocean --- my pal, nothing is entertaining about it. Atleast for Y/N. She’s more of a hill station going person with her pup Frankenstein that oogles out from his small globe like window, comfy in his lil bag that Y/N moves around on her shoulders everywhere.

When the fracas of whatever’s taking place up doesn’t comes to halt, Y/N had enough, she isn’t very versed in coping with such situations since her dorm-mate is very nice.

So, she’s throwing the lid away to pop her head through the square like space and spreads her elbows up the roof, “Aish.” She immediately covers her eyes upon the sight of his brother and his wife doing it.

Their expressions comically panicked as they embarrassingly scrambles to clutch the flimsy sheets over them.

“Who does it all naked under an open sky?” She squeaks out, feeling her pulse tick and she peeks out towards the darkness from the slight gap of her fingers which are barely helping her avoid the scene that’d haunt her for life.

“Them bunnies and monkeys, ‘n many of our kind, Sweetheart.” She rolls her eyes at the familiarity of deep slow rumble that’s a bit slurred, probably from the Tequila they took with them. The voice never fails to froth bubbles in Y/N's tummy and it always involuntarily makes her nails dig into her palms.

Harry and Tina’s bestfriend went out to roam around Italy, or they told so and Albeit Y/N very well knows their intentions were more to exploring the city she didn’t butt in.

“I’ve a name and it’s not, Sweetheart.” She dismisses him with a grumble and his smirk shines through the shadow aggravating Y/N to an extreme she slips down shutting the door (like lid) at the them.

Harry Styles. Y/N's brother’s bestfriend. He’s everything Y/N loathes about. Bright green eyes, silken features and that dopey pearlish smile that makes everyone fall in love with him in nano-seconds.

To Y/N. He is an incubus. A witch that allures people without even knowing.

He’s a narcissistic asshole and Y/N's bad boy dream, unfortunately.

She hates herself for having a puppy crush on him for years now.

That friggin, Asshole.

He’s with everyone but her. It seems as if he’s getting stung by bees upon the mere closeness between them. A lamb ready to bite her down his stomach if she steps a foot near him.

At the moment when she’s sitting with her knees pressed to her chest, swollen eyes and puffy lips from not getting sleep last night.

She’s really hating that Harry looks so hot from the swim he just took as he dries himself sitting opposite to her. The droplets twinkling on his tanned thick body, his trunks wrinkled and bunched up into his thighs baring the tiger tattoo on front, his hair wet and oh so fucking tug-able – Y/N feels like Rachel from friends thinking all of that.

“Stop staring,” She mutters out loud when he wouldn’t stop licking the saltiness from his pink bottom lip keeping his intense gaze on her.

“What did y'say?” He pretends that we too engulfed in something else.

“I said stop staring at me.” Y/N grits. It’s annoying because it’s making her belly feel funny and loopy.

“The hills behind y'are just s'admirable.” He elevates his shoulders a bit panicked from inside and Y/N forced herself to not to twitch her eye when his chest muscles flexes due to his action.

Bamboozled she takes a glance from her shoulder to where he diverted his sight once she caught him. Her nose scrunched up and chin butted in disgust at the scenery, “That’s literally a heap of dead fishes!”

“Better than starin’ into a dead soul.” His lips down turned into a careless grimace and Y/N gasps out loud pushing the strands of her hair sticking to all of her face because of the breeze gush, “Why would you say that!?”

“’Cos you’re so mauve, that’s why?” He just wants to take a piss out of her. Nobody’s around and he’s finally getting time to talk to her even if it just to sit cross legged on her nerves and sip tea.

He’s actually lying. He thinks she’s more than mauve. She’s all those colours that usually macarons have, all those hues that butterflies wings have and all those tinctures that one find in gems then keep them safe.

She’s the colour he misses in his life.

“And you’re so fucking blue!” She grumbles and that slithered a deep wicked smile on Harry’s lips, “Like this deep ocean yer afraid of?” Her eyes widens at that and she almost lunges on her knees.

How did he know? Ofcourse, he'd. He’s everywhere. In every damn picture of wherever they went for recreation.

“I’m not.” She scoffs, her tone inconvenient and hazy as she shrinks into herself.

“Then take a dip,” She wishes that she could wipe that beautiful stupid smirk off his gorgeous stupidly lame face.

“Kiss my ass.” She spat out throwing a cushion towards him that lands on his lap, “I’d love to.” He barks out a laugh that rings through the waves.

“You’re such a stinky asshole.” She hits him with another that dumps against his chest, “Ow!” He feigns hurt with ridiculous comical expressions and throws the cushion back towards her which she successfully dodges, but, it falls behind her into the water.

“Shit.” She complains ducking around the edge of the yacht and stretches her arm to the plausible extent to grab the floating cushion.

Though when the tips of her toes leaves the seat she was on and she’s bending too much for her own sake Harry’s standing upright, “Hey stop —-" But. It’s too late as with a high pitched squeaky shriek Y/N's rolling first and falling into the water leaving Harry frozen for a second.

Panic chokes her throat and she moves her limbs around everywhere splashing water vigorously. Mouth gasping for oxygen but all that comes is salty water filling her mouth and lungs too, maybe as she sinks deeper and deeper.

“Fuck, Y/N!!” He shouts out jumping to save her immediately knowing she doesn’t know how to swim and he’s wrapping his palm around her neck and pulling her from her waist to himself under the water as she watches him with frightened fading eyes.

He comes back to surface quickly and presses her to his chest. She too clings to him for dear life feeling herself drift into a state of unconsciousness and hard to breath while he grabs the deck and lifts her with himself to it.

He doesn’t risk a chance and lays her limp body down and clasps his hands together pushing them against where her heat beats feebly, winces when she spurts out water painfully.

“Baby...fuck.” He pats her soaked pale cheek anxiously when she still remains unresponsive to him, breathing wearily so he does what has to be done.

He grabbed her chin, squished her cheeks making her lips pucker out and wrapped his mouth around hers sucking the water out and spat it out once his mouth was full.

His eyes slip shuts and he slumps with relief when Y/N coughs out loudly into his chest and he brings her into him murmuring assurance into her wet hair.

“You’re okay darling,” His whisper wavers from the trembling of his lips and his fingers divots into her softest of skin when he hugs her tightly, “’M sorry ‘s me fault, Sweets.” He rubs the bridge of his nose to take the sniff of her scent to calm him down and she shakes her head unable to talk, hands bunched up against his tummy.

“You should rest, yeah?” His gaze soft with care and it’s baffling for Y/N that he ever had this side too. Before, she could be on her feet he slipped his strong arms under her and hoists her up and into him without any trouble.

If Y/N wouldn’t be feeling very droopy and breathless she sure would have fought with him, maybe blushed and hid her face into his neck but she’s already knocking out in his arms from the stingy feeling in her eyes that made her super duper sleepy.

Clouds. Y/N's merged into them and they cover every inch of Y/N, wait where am I? She feels real nice comforted around with such warm bedding and she sure knows it’s not hers. The blurry sight infront of her is enough to aware her and a perfectly calloused hand comes rubbing her shoulder when she tries to sit up.

“Not heaven, o'summat.” He chuckles airily. His smile small and a tad awkward, he’s changed into another pair of trunks that are yellow and his upper half now sadly is covered from a blue tee.

“How you feelin'?” Y/N let his question fly over her head and stutters out loudly, “Why you being s'nice to me now?” It etches a frown on his face but soon it vanishes into an expression that Y/N couldn’t pick point.

“You’ve always been such a meanie...” She murmurs glumly. White sheets tangling around her torso as she moves infront of him – their knees touching.

“I umm –-...like you, I guess?” He has never been this nervous and jumblish with words.

“You guess?” She asks and scared that he missed up he rushes out to hold her and to make her believe that his feelings are true.

“No, no! I’m sure. I like you very much.” That puts Y/N into silence where she stares the gleaming jewels onto his fingers and ponders over what he said.

Harry Styles. Her first kiss. Her very first candy love crush and her dream of bad boy actually likes her back.

She tries to ignore the party poppers going inside her body and the drums of happiness rolling around her heart.

“But ... Everyone keeps telling me you’re the bad guy,” She doesn’t meet his eyes smoothing out the crinkles of sheets and her palm halts immediately when Harry hooks his thumb under her chin and raises it gaze lovingly into her eyes with sincerity, “Just ‘cos I stole yer first kiss?”

He laughs out sweetly when she bobs her head vigorously, “C’mon we were just sixteen! I’d have made sure to tell y'to keep it safe fo’ your precious person if I knew back then.” His pupils gleaming with hope and a tinge of eagerness.

The next thing she said with a slight bubbly pout caught Harry off-guard and in awe that how to process what she said with so much liability and vulnerability.

“But you’re my precious person!!”

“Yeah, baby?” He grins with a dimple tutting in and grabs her small cold hands to pull her closer to him.

The sweet name shies Y/N away and Harry thinks she couldn’t be more endearing as he takes her soft looking puffy face in the warm embrace of his hands and bops their noses together.

“Then g’na make sure ‘m your last.” He murmurs feathering his lips to the corner of her mouth that flutters her eyelids like butterflies and she pants out for more with a sweet whine, “Shit. You’re still very candy like since I last kissed ye'.” He giggles stroking his thumb up her cheek and takes a lick of her jutted bottom lip.

“Harry....” She complains tugging his weary shirt, “Yes me baby?” He quips out with those fake surprised eyes he makes with raised brows and puppy gaze.

“Kiss me alre –—,” He's swallowing her words down with the tender smush of his lips against hers in a kiss that’s slow and comforting at first, hearing onto the noises that she creates from tasting him and it deepens into something ardent and red when Harry pulls her over his thighs and guides her arms around his neck.

Their foreheads comes touching. Their hearts in sync and beside eachother. Their tongues loving on eachother.

“Dunno if I could ever stop.” He whispers breaking the knot of spit that connects their mouths with the stroke of his thumb against her shinning lip and pecks that spot twice.

“Then don’t.” Y/N looses her brain cells and only butterflies to whoosh into her skull as she grabs his jaw never letting him go and kisses him harder and rougher this time.

She’s gonna be in oh so much love with this bad boy that’s such a softie for her and she knows that there’s no going back.

#IMMMMMM BACKKKK FINALLYYY #PLEASEEEEE FORGIVE ME MY READ MORE THINGY IS NOT WORKING #BAD BOIII HARRYYYY #harry styles smut #harry styles #harry styles blurb #harry styles prompts #cute harry #harry smut #harry styles fanfiction #fluff #harry angst #hsh #dom harry

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waitimcomingtoo · 3 years

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Hi I love your writing and say you wanted a peter vday request! I have one how about a vday scavenger hunt type of thing that instead of peter setting it up it's reader for peter! And like at the end it will come down to two choices one leads to her and the other leads to still being friends. Fluffy!

Scavenger Hunt

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Masterlist

“Happy Valentine’s Day!” You shouted across the hallway before tackling Peter in a hug.

“Happy Valentine’s Day.” Peter happily hugged you back. “I have something to give you.”

“I do too.” You grinned nervously. “But I have to go first.”

“Okay.” Peter nodded as he put the valentine in his back pocket.

“Okay, so you know how you have a huge crush on me?” You began.

“What? No I don’t.” He stammered. “That’s crazy. That’s…yeah, why?”

“Well I like you too.” You confessed, making his breath hitch in his throat.

“You do?” He asked as his eyes went wide.

“Yeah.” You said like it was obvious. “But I can’t date someone who can’t be honest about their feelings. So I’m gonna need you to prove to me that you really want to be with me.”

“I do. I really, really do.” He promised. “How can I prove that to you?”

“By going on this scavenger hunt.” You explained as you handed him a red envelope. “If you follow all the steps correctly, you’ll find me at the end. And then I’m yours, Peter. All yours.”

“Okay.” Peter followed along. “What if I mess up?”

“Then we stay friends and pretend this never happened.” You said simply.

“No.” Peter shook his head as he stared at the envelope. “That’s not happening. I’m gonna win this. I’ll find you at the end and give you your Valentine.”

“I hope you do.” You answered honestly. “You have until sunset. Don’t let me down.”

“I won’t.” Peter promised. You smiled softly at him before leaning in to kiss his cheek.

“Then I’ll see you later.” You winked at him before walking away. As soon as you were gone, Peter opened the envelope to read the first clue.

“You’ll find clue one where we first met. You remembered my name when I thought you’d forget.”

“Science lab!” Peter blurted, earning looks from passing students. He cleared his throat as his cheeks flushed, giving them a small smile. He stuffed the envelope in his pocket and rushed to the third floor science lab.

You had first met there when you sat next to him on the first day of school. You sat there again the following week, introducing yourself as if you were meeting for the first time. You had assumed he’d forgetting your name over the weekend, laughing shyly when he told you he remembered it.

Peter opened the door to the lab and saw another red envelope sitting on the back table. He walked over to it and opened it up, hands shaking with anticipation. There was a heart shaped lolly pop sitting next to it, which he unwrapped and popped in his mouth.

“Roses are red, violets are blue. Check your locket for clue number two.”

Peter bolted out of the lab, knocking into a few students as he ran to his locker. He fumbled with the lock before ultimately pulling it off with his super strength. He opened the locker and saw a red envelope taped to the door with his name on it. It was scented like your perfume, as if you sprayed it on there.

“You found me! So here’s clue number three. What’s a little honey without the bee?”

“She’s too cute.” Peter mumbled it himself as he shut his locker. He practically skipped down the hallway as he made his way outside, quickly located the tree you used to sit under to eat your lunch. You stopped sitting there when a bee stung you on your hand, but you had a fond memory of Peter sucking the stinger out.

Peter saw a red envelope taped to the tree and took it, ripping it open to read what was inside. Other than the card, there was a small package of his favorite candy. He began to munch on them as he read the clue.

“Look at you, you found clue four. Schools almost over, so check your front door.”

Peter let out a groan, knowing he had two more periods before he could go home. His leg bounced in anticipation during his classes, shooting out of his seat the second the final bell rang.

Peter ran all the way home but when he got to his apartment, he didn’t see an envelope. He checked both sides of the door and found nothing. He slumped in defeat on the couch, assuming you changed your mind.

“Hey, Peter.” May greeted as she walked into the room. “You’re home early.”

“Yeah.” He mumbled. “I was expecting something.”

“Oh, was it a letter?” May asked, making his perk up. “I found this taped to the door when I got-“

“That’s mine!” Peter shouted in excitement as he took the envelope from May. He tore it open and pulled out the card inside. A Polaroid of you and him fell out, and he quickly picked it up. It was a picture of you biting his cheek while he laughed, one of his favorite pictures.

“I hope the wait for clue five built your anticipation. Clue number six can be found at the train station.”

“I gotta go.” Peter hastily grabbed his bag and went for the door.

“Where are you going?” May called after him, but he was already gone. He swung to the nearest train station and found Ned with a bouquet of roses.

“Ned?” Peter panted once he landed. “What are you doing here?”

“First, these are for you.” Ned handed Peter the flowers. “And so is this.”

Peter took the flowers with a smile before accepting the envelope.

“Clues will be getting harder, so I hope you enjoy the roses. Clue seven is with the models and all their dumb poses.”

“Models?” Peter furrowed his eyebrows and looked at Ned in confusion.

“Hey man, I’m just the messenger.” Ned shrugged. “She got me a box of chocolates for helping out.

“I think I have an idea.” Peter said as he remembered something. “But if I’m wrong, then we stay friends.”

“You better hope you’re not wrong then.” Ned said, and Peter agreed.

“Yeah.” He nodded. “I’ll see you later, man. Hopefully with my girlfriend.”

Peter swung back to Delmars and went inside, going straight to the magazine section. You once stood in front of the magazines with him, flipping through to see who could find the most ridiculous poses the models were in and then doing them. He remembered making you laugh when he mimicked a particularly flexible pose, so he hoped that’s what the clue was alluding to. Peter scanned the magazine section for the red envelope, jumping a little when the store cat jumped on top of the rack. Peter did a double take when he saw you had taped the envelope to the cat, shaking his head at your antics. He carefully removed the tape and looked at the clue inside.

“Our times in Delmars are some of the best I’ve ever had. Now for clue eight, you’ll need someone who’s bad.”

Peter tilted his head in confusion until he flipped the card over, seeing that you wrote, “really, really bad.”

The wheels in his brain started turning and he remembered the song you played him the night you got your drivers license.

“Bad.” He mumbled to himself. “The Michael Jackson song?”

He turned the card over again and suddenly, it clicked.

Bad. Michael Jackson. MJ.

“Thanks for the help.” Peter pet the cat before noticing a wrapped sandwich on the counter with his name written on it. He smiled at the gesture, finally realizing he was starving. He unwrapped it, taking note that it was his usual order, and took a bite. He continued eating it as he went to find MJ.

He hoped she was in he usual spot, perched under the bleachers with a pile of books. Peter nervously checked the time, seeing that he only had two hours until sunset. You said he had to find you before then, and he was worried time was running out. MJ could be anywhere and she wasn’t a fan of answering her phone. He could only hope you allowed time specifically for hunting MJ down.

After checking the local library and realizing he had no idea where MJ lived, Peter felt stuck. He spun around in circles in the middle of the street, unsure of where to go next. The sun would be setting soon and he had no idea how many more clues he needed.

“Hey loser.” MJ appeared out of nowhere with a small smile. “Need some help?”

“MJ?” Peter wondered as he approached her. “What are you doing here? How did you find me?”

“You’ve been spinning in a circle outside my apartment building for the past ten minutes whining my name.” She said flatly. “I figured I should come out.”

“You live here?” Peter asked as he looked up at the building. He realized that he had been there before with you, and must have walked there from muscle memory.

“Yep.” She sounded bored. “Do you want your envelope or not?”

“I do.” He nodded eagerly. “Do you know how many are left?”

“Don’t know, don’t care.” MJ yawned as he handed him the envelope. “Oh, and she wanted me to give you this.”

Peter looked up at MJ handed him a watch he recognized.

“My Uncle Ben’s watch?” He asked as he took it from her. “Where did you get this?”

“Like I just said.” MJ said sarcastically. “She wanted me to give it to you.”

“It’s ticking.” He realized with a smile. “It hasn’t worked in years.”

“Yeah, well.” MJ shrugged. “She got it to work. Happy Valentine’s Day or whatever.”

“Happy Valentine’s Day, MJ.” Peter smiled in appreciation. “Thank you.”

“Whatever.” She mumbled as he opened the envelope.

“As your watch will show you, time is almost out. For the last clue, you’ll find me at the best place to shout.”

“Best place to shout?” Peter wondered out loud. “Where’s the best place to shout?”

“Well, I would say a protest, but her hopeless romantic ass would probably say something like a rooftop or concert.”

“There are no concerts in the area.” Peter thought hard. “She must mean a rooftop, right? Because when you love someone, you want to shout it from the rooftops.”

“I don’t know.” MJ sighed. “This is the last time I help straight people with anything.”

“I think I know where she is.” Peter decided. “I better hurry. The sun is gonna set soon.”

“Does it look like I’m stopping you?” MJ mumbled as Peter ran away. Once he was out of sight, he swung towards your apartment building and landed on the roof.

You were standing on the roof, next to a small table and chairs. Red candles and pink hearts were on the table, a perfect Valentine’s Day date. Peter walked towards you and put the roses you’d given him in the empty vase before taking in your beauty. You were in a silly red dress with the sun setting behind you.

“You found me.” You smiled softly, gazing at him with pride.

“I did.” He smiled as well as he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. “I followed all your clues.”

“I really thought the Michael Jackson would throw you.” You teased as you stepped closed to him.

“Nothing was gonna throw me.” He said confidently. “I was too determined.”

“I see.” You pulled your lip between your teeth. “Did you like your gifts?”

“Of course I did.” He told you. “This is the best one, though. But the sandwich was a nice touch.”

“I thought you’d like that.” You chuckled.

“Can I give you my Valentine now?” Peter asked, reaching for it in his back pocket.

“Oh, yeah.” You remembered. “Of course.”

Peter handed you heart cut out of red construction paper with glitter and stickers on it. You chuckled at his craftsman’s and slowly opened it up, sequins falling off as you did.

“Happy Valentine’s Day to the most beautiful, creative, and amazing girl I know. You make everyday feel like Valentine’s Day. Ps, I like you. I really, really like you. Love, Peter.” You read out loud, looking up at him in awe. He has a shy blush on his cheeks as you finished reading.

“It’s funny.” You chuckled as you set the card on the table. “You wrote “love Peter” at the end of it.”

“What’s funny about that?” Peter wondered.

“I do.” You smiled shyly. “I do love Peter.”

“I love you too.” Peter grinned before pulling you into a kiss. You wrapped your arms around his neck, getting your red lipstick all over his face. He didn’t mind it, though. He was too happy to mind it. When you pulled away, he pulled your chair out for you so you could sit down at the table. There was sparkly cider already in your glasses and a cupcake on each of your plates.

“Thank you for a perfect Valentine’s Day.” He said as he held up his glass. “I can honestly say this has been the greatest day of my life.”

“Me too, Petey.” You smiled as you clinked your glass against his. “Me too.”

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