#the softest film I have ever seen

[luveline]

hi love. if you’re taking any requests could i request rockstar!sirius, or sirius in general, like the start of the relationship when everything is cute funny but they're still not a Couple

rockstar!sirius takes you on a date ♡ fem, 1.2k

“If you're here to antagonise me, you can just go home, Sirius,” you warn. 

Sirius Black gives you a dastardly grin, sliding into the seat across from you in a cloud of expensive cologne and hairspray. You're ashamed to say he smells nice, if a little sharp. 

“Hair explosion?” you ask. 

“You're very, very cruel to me, angel. I shouldn't call you that.” The toe of his converse hits yours. He leans forward, covering the pages of your novel with a hand adorned in silver jewellery. “It's no longer accurate.” 

“So mean,” you sigh, imbuing it with as much gutted patheticness as possible.

“Hey, I'm kidding.” He pushed his foot between yours. “How long have you been here? Did you wait long?” 

You close your book, put it flat out of reach, and fix him with a genuine smile. “No, not long.” 

Sirius leans over to kiss your cheek. You'll feel it for the next half an hour, a tingling, crescent moon of contact. “Well, good. Should we go and order? Know what you want?” He shakes his head. “I know what you want. Stay here.” 

He pops up and away as quick as he'd arrived. You panic. Cool and collected you may have seemed, but internally you're a storm of nerves, hands shaking ever so slightly as you take the compact mirror from your pocket and check over your features. You're worried you look like you've tried as hard as you have, all your complicated skincare and makeup, sheer shimmers and invisible concealer.  

Sirius met you without a lick of makeup and he still acted like you were the best thing since sliced bread. You remember it all in vivid detail, the way he'd looked at you, the double-take, the subsequent flirting. Sirius doesn't neg, but it was hard at first to know if he was being real with you. And what, he'd drawled, unblinking, dark lashes and kohl rings emphasised by his stillness, is a thing like you doing in a place like this? 

Thing? you'd asked softly, confused and intimidated by his attention. You'd recognised him immediately. 

Girl, he'd corrected himself. Then, with a strange smile, Angel. You're an angel, huh? Must be.

It wasn't some world-bending line but it didn't need to be, his demeanour did the hard work for him. And his appearance didn't hurt. 

Even now as he walks back towards you, your heart skips a quick beat. He looks more casual than he has the last few times he's seen you, a leather jacket swapped for ragged black denim, and tight pants replaced with jeans that hug his thighs. You can't believe a thing like him would ever be interested in you, but he most assuredly is. 

“Here,” he says, putting a drink down in front of you, and again leaning down to kiss your other cheek. “You look so pretty.” He says it like it’s nothing, doesn't cost him a thing, not a shred of doubt nor bravery. Then he adds, “You're fucking perfect. Can't believe you walk around like this for free.” 

“Stop it,” you say with a laugh, pushing him away. You can't bring yourself to be mean about it. Sirius hasn't ever been mean to you, not once, despite the things people have told you since you met. Be careful with that one. Guys like him want one thing. 

After three dates and two evenings spent watching films together on his ragtag sofa (and enjoying the laziest, softest kisses a girl may ever have been given), you've yet to find out what he wants. To adore you, apparently. 

He runs his pinky down your cheek and under your chin. “Can I kiss you?” he asks. 

You lift your chin invitingly. 

Sirius laughs into your lips, suddenly kissing you, close and heavy-handed. You rise off of your seat to meet him, only an inch or so but enough to pull a deep sound from the back of his throat. You've never been kissed like this; his hand is steady on your cheek, reluctant to let you go, and he presses down hard with his lips. Nearly too much, never quite there. He rounds it out with a softer one and pulls back to gaze at you fondly. 

“I missed you,” he says, sneaking back in to kiss the slight curve of your laugh line. “Not cool, this whole sleeping at your own flat business.” 

He isn't your boyfriend, yet. Hasn't asked. So he isn't staying at yours nor you at his. But he has to ask soon, right? Who kisses people like that without intentions of some sort of commitment? 

Rockstars, your brain supplies cruelly. Infamous players. 

“Well, where else would I be staying?” you ask as he sits back in his seat. 

“Good question, beautiful.” He ignores it, anyhow. “I've ordered a few too many things. Don't be mad.” 

“I won't be.” You take your purse from your coat. “So long as it doesn't cost more than sixty two pounds and eight p, that is.” 

“Shut up, as if you're paying. You're fucking childish–” 

“You're childish, I'm trying to keep things fair and you won't let me!” 

“Quite right. Look at the state of you,” he says, eyes roving across your face pleasantly, “you think you deserve to pay for dinner? No. I asked you, and I've ordered, and it'll cost a bit more than what you have anyways.” He drops the act just enough to see a sliver of doubt. “Please, let me take care of it. I want to buy you dinner, sweetheart. It's the least I want to do for you.” 

You look at him through your lashes, face angled down at the ebony wooden table. “Yeah, alright. I don't mind.” 

“Good, because you didn't really have a choice. How can I expect you to say yes if I don't pay for dinner first?” 

“Say yes to what?” you ask, frowning gently. He's confused you. 

Sirius offers both hands across the table. You place yours softly in his, letting him brush the pads of his thumbs against your knuckles. 

“To being official,” he says, a hopeful smile playing on his lovely mouth. “What do you think? Is it too soon to ask?” 

You shake your head minutely. 

He drops his head a little, meeting your eyes. “Do you want to be together?” 

“I'll be your girlfriend?” you confirm. 

“Do you want to be?” His lips part but he doesn't add anything more, though he might want to. You understand that vulnerability won't be instantaneous between you both. You can wait. If this is even a hint of the man he is, you want to be together more than anything. 

You nod, forcing your smile into a line that soon wobbles. 

He leans across the table for another kiss. This one chaste. Perfect. 

“Thank you,” he says. When he sits back, he's practically glowing with smugness. “Fuck. I thought that would be harder.” 

“I can make it worse for you if you want to ask me again."

“Would you? Let's take it from the top, angel. I didn't suffer half as much as I should've.” 

#sirius black #sirius black x reader #sirius black x fem!reader #sirius black x you #sirius black x y/n #sirius x reader fluff #sirius black imagine #sirius black fanfiction #sirius black fanfic #sirius black fic #marauders era #marauders #sirius black drabble #sirius black scenario #sirius black oneshot #the marauders #sirius orion black

[stevesbipanic]

@steddielovemonth Day 25: Love is asking, "do you want a blanket?" @thefreakandthehair

Eddie had developed a small obsession.

It wasn't in his usual realm of obsessions, no dragons or magic to speak of here. No, it existed in the same space as one of his other recent obsessions which was Hawkins Golden Boy, Steve Harrington.

This particular obsession started at one of the monster hunters alliance's movie nights. They'd started routinely going over to Harrington's house every Friday night, rotating which of the teens picked the movie. It helped, having something to look forward to every week.

Now November, the movie nights were just him and Steve, waiting patiently for their college bound friends to return over Christmas break. Eddie didn't mind, he learnt pretty quickly he and Steve had more in common than just the kids. Finding out Steve had seen all of the Star Wars movies would've put a younger Eddie in a coma.

But back to the obsession, it started so innocently, they were both sitting on the couch, slouched on either end, their usual positions, when Eddie had a random shiver. The weather had dipped as they crept towards winter and now that movie nights were at Steve's apartment not his old fancy house with central heating, it was a lot colder.

"Do you want a blanket?"

It had been such an innocent question, Eddie didn't know what he'd be getting into by accepting.

"That would be great, I forget this place's walls are as thin as the trailers."

Steve had gone to his room and returned with a thick woven blanket, large enough to stretch across both of them without them moving. That wasn't its only perk, the material was probably the softest thing Eddie had ever touched and it didn't hurt that it smelt like Steve. He felt warmer already the moment it touched him.

After that Steve would always have the blanket out once Eddie arrived, a few times Eddie even stayed over and slept with the blanket. He was pretty sure Steve must've taken it from his old house when he up and moved without warning over summer, but Eddie didn't want to mention it, Steve didn't like talking about it much.

The blanket felt like home. It also seemed to possess a magic power that meant Steve didn't mind tangling his legs with Eddie's underneath it as the movie played. Eddie had half a mind to ask to take it with him he loved it so much.

By Christmas though, their friends had returned. Tales of big cities and college life were told around the table as they had dinner together before the movie. Now all shoved onto the couch and armchair it wasn't as cold but Eddie still mourned not getting to have the blanket, and Steve so far away from him.

"Steve I'm cold, could you go get your blanket," Robin pouted part of the way into the film. Robin knew about the blanket? It must be from the Harrington's then, some fancy blanket that cost more than his trailer.

Steve glanced at Eddie so briefly he almost missed it before nodding and getting up to retrieve it. He placed the blanket over the three of them, Nancy and Jonathan seemed plenty warm cuddled in their position on the armchair.

"Ah I have missed this blanket, remind me why I can't steal it from you and take it back to my dorm?"

"Because then I'll be freezing on my bed without it, besides, if you'd waited you would know I made you your own for Christmas."

Robin's eyes lit up in joy while Eddie's widened in surprise now a million questions in his head. Made? Steve had made this blanket? Had made one for Robin too? And he didn't have another one on his bed, meaning Steve had willingly given him the only blanket when Eddie stayed over.

"You made this?" He couldn't help the burning question from tumbling from his lips. Steve looked shy now.

"Um yeah, my gran taught me how to knit years ago and helped me make this when I was younger."

Eddie had too many questions but they'd have to wait. A couple weeks later their friends gone again, movie night rolled around and Eddie found himself on Steve's couch once more.

"You always give me the blanket when I stay over."

Steve raised an eyebrow but let Eddie continue, "You only have this blanket and you let me have it, the one you made, even though you'll be cold."

A faint blush is gracing Steve's cheeks now, "Don't want you to be cold," he mumbled.

"Steve?" Eddie said, feeling brave, "Can I stay over tonight?"

"Of course Eds."

"Don't want you to be cold though, think we could share?"

There's a brightness in Steve's eyes as he understands, "Course Eds, wouldn't want you to be cold." Somewhere under the blanket, their hands met and maybe that obsession had a different word, love.

#lex getting back to back prompts lol #fluff #stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #ficlet #steddielovemonth

[pastanest]

Spencer Reid x she/her!reader

A/N: the day I don’t write about a sunshine!reader is the day one of you needs to action a welfare check on me bc I bawled my eyes out writing this angsty shit fr

warning: mentions of Maeve (rip queen x)

A Chance

It was strange, getting to know someone through the words of friends, before being able to actually meet that person. The board had requested you transfer to the BAU while Spencer was in prison, and you were only ever meant to be there as a placeholder of sorts, to lend your expertise to the team that struggled in their dear friend’s absence. It was a temporary arrangement, but from the moment Emily Prentiss referenced you to Spencer during a visit to him in prison, he could see in her eyes that your presence had already proven itself invaluable. 

The tales she told him of you were silly things that made him laugh, and that was something he had long forgotten how to do. Spencer had no idea what you looked like, because you had insisted that you didn’t want to take a visitation slot from someone that he knew; a notion Emily had passed on to him when he had asked, and his sombre heart had ached from beneath the rubble in his chest, the ruins that once housed a heart of gold. He had no way of picturing you, but he did, he tried. Hearing the jokes you had told the team through Emily, seeing the enjoyment you brought to his friends simply by talking about you, hearing of your efforts to bring smiles to everyone on the team like it was second nature for you. In every way, you made it clear you had no intention of taking Spencer’s place, you were only there to take care of those he loved by making them laugh again, and somehow, that endless stream of kindness reached Spencer, too. Flowing through prison bars, through tense muscles, to the cold, grey, shattered fragments of his heart.

On the day of his release, you had conducted the team in arranging a surprise party for him at the office, just a small get-together for him and his closest friends, who you understood were his family. Your efforts did not go unnoticed to the genius, and neither did the absence of you, amongst his friends. 

“Is (Y/N) here?” Spencer had asked.

And David Rossi had shaken his head with a fond smile. “No, she insisted she didn’t want to impose or put you in the position of having to meet someone new, so she’s at home, but she’ll be back in tomorrow.”

You had done it again, without even being there to do it. You had single-handedly reached into Spencer’s chest and lifted those fragments out of the rubble, dusting them off and setting them down gently atop the rubble, letting the sun shine on his heart again.

The next day, Spencer had arrived early at the office for a multitude of reasons. To sit at his desk in the silence of the morning, with nobody around, just to feel back where he belonged, the serenity of it; that was one of the reasons. And as he sat, contemplating that very notion, another reason for his early arrival stepped into the office. Though he had never seen you before, Spencer’s heart recognised you immediately, and he stood from his desk, the softest smile on his face as he watched you. It took you several seconds to acknowledge his presence, what with your big headphones covering your ears and a large pile of boxes in your arms. Spencer watched you like you were a silent film, an enchanting and nostalgic wonder that he had never been lucky enough to lay his eyes on before. It was only when you had set your things down and turned to his desk, with just one large box in your arms, that your eyes widened. And Spencer continued to watch as the brightest smile he had ever seen blossomed on your face, like the first flower he’d seen after a year-long winter. 

“Spencer! Hello!” You greeted him cheerfully, removing your headphones. “These are for you! Emily said that you liked ones with chocolate frosting and sprinkles best?” You had asked, setting the large box down on his desk in front of him.

He stared down at it, and you, in absolute wonder. How could you possibly be real?

“(Y/N)...” Spencer spoke your name to you for the first time, having rehearsed it and played around with the way it sounded in his mind during particularly lonely nights in his cell, but finding that it sounded different when he said it to you. 

“I can’t thank you enough. For this, for the party yesterday, for the happiness you’ve brought the team- thank you.” Spencer said, his voice as gentle as he could make it, afraid that the slightest of harsh tones could shatter the fragile ray of sunshine that stood before him.

“Oh, that’s alright! You don’t need to thank me, not for any of it, the team have all been so welcoming to me, and they talk about you all the time, you know.” You beamed up at him.

“They do?” Spencer asked, his words unexpectedly shy. 

You nodded fervently. “Everyday, they had a new tale to tell me about you, a new fact to share that they learned from you- honestly, I feel like I was getting to know you before I’d even met you!” The chuckle that passed your lips was that of an angel.

You had been getting to know him in the same way he had been getting to know you. What did you think of the things you heard? Did you think of him as often as he thought of you? Were you as curious about him? Did thoughts of him make you smile, in the way thoughts of you made him, when he would walk back to his cell after a visit from Emily? 

A lump formed in Spencer’s throat. How different is he now, to the person you were getting to know? Will prison have made him unrecognizable to you, too? 

But as he gazed down at you and searched your eyes, unable to find a single shred of judgment, or fear, he felt hope. A glimmer, a spark, beneath the rubble.

“Emily’s been telling me about you, too.” He managed to reply, his voice quiet in a way he hoped you wouldn’t address.

“All good things, I hope!” You chuckled again, busying yourself at your desk and looking over your shoulder at him. 

It felt normal. Like a conversation between two old friends. Spencer felt comfortable, for the first time since…even his eidetic memory faltered in recalling. 

“All good things.” He assured you, a smile playing on his lips and in his chest.

Somehow, it came as a surprise to you when the team requested you join the team permanently. You had enjoyed your time with them tremendously, but you had never suspected they enjoyed you just as much, enough to ask you to stay. They had waited to ask you, wanting Spencer to meet you first and give his verdict. He couldn’t form his thoughts into coherent strings of sentences, but the smile on his face after meeting you told the team that he shared their resounding 'yes'. 

And when he saw the way you lit up, the happy tears in your eyes as the team asked you if you’d consider making your position permanent, Spencer grinned. Your tearful eyes landed on him, sensing that he had agreed to ask you to stay, and that one thought made the tears in your eyes cascade down your cheeks.

“Thank you.” You had blubbered, gaze traveling across each and every member of the team, but lingering on Spencer in a way that made him question whether his IQ points were evaporating, leaving his head emptier, his mind happier, with the simple joy of you, smiling at him like that.

With your place on the team set in stone, you all began working on cases together, quickly discovering that your true place was at Spencer’s side, much to his delight and dismay in equal measure. You made him smile like nobody else, made him feel normal, seen, for who he was, who he could be as long as you were around to encourage a side of him he had learned to keep well hidden, to protect himself. Even his mother, on his first visit to her since getting out of prison, had commented that he seemed so much more himself. How had you reminded him of who he was, when you had not known who he was before? Spencer felt selfish for collecting your smiles, treasuring them all to himself. He wondered if he had any right to make you smile at all. He was unworthy of causing a smile like yours. And there was guilt, so much guilt, the moment you were out of sight and he became excruciatingly aware of just how much more you deserved. An angel like you, walking on hot coals beside him, burning the soles of your feet but still smiling up at him like he’s worth it. 

Tonight, the pain is worse. To celebrate a particularly gruelling case being solved, you suggested a garden party at your house, and Spencer had been the very first person you asked to attend. As if he needed any further proof to his ongoing theory of it being physically impossible for him to ever deny you of anything. And here he stands, in your garden, nursing a drink and watching you just as he did the first time he saw you. There is music playing, and you are aware of his presence, but you are still the same vision to him, all sound fading until you are that same silent film. Until your laugh breaks the barrier; a sound he is certain could reach his ears from miles away. Through any sea of other voices, he can pinpoint yours. 

He is nothing more than a shadow, standing alone, a few feet away from everyone else, on the outside of their bubble but peering in just to torture himself. The smiles on his friends faces, on yours, as you all dance around together, dressed to the nines and laughing like it’s the silliest joy you’ve ever known. Spencer looks at the perfect image before him until he can bear it no longer, and he sets his drink down on the nearest table. Enough, he thinks to himself. 

Nobody notices when a shadow slowly fades out of view. 

He walks through your home, towards the front door, the scent of your perfume trying to persuade him to stay. The trinkets on your shelves, the art on your walls, every single thing exuding you in the most beautiful way; he knows he could stand right here, in your hallway, just drinking you in until he died of old age, but he keeps walking. Shoes heavy, legs of lead, he trudges out of your front door and onto the street, under the same stars as you and feeling the weight of how little he deserves to share such a thing. 

Every step further away from where you are kills him just a little more. He wonders how far he’ll make it, whether he’ll manage to reach the sea before he sinks to his knees and lets himself wither away entirely, the force of you no longer binding his atoms and holding him to this Earth; an echo that you have been selfless enough to maintain, no matter the cost to you. The cost, Spencer is sure, has been insurmountable. How can it not have been? A burden as heavy as him, a stain you can’t wash out of your life that somehow exacerbates every time you check in on it, a husk that you remind how to live, simply by existing. 

Seven steps from your front door, his legs start to falter, wobbling beneath him under the weight of the crime he has committed and the sentence he serves now, for stringing you along like he’s ever been worthy of walking the same ground. His trembling hands grip garden fences as he forces himself onwards, away, away.

“Spencer?”

A vision, a mirage, the perfect and only balm to restore his strength enough to stand up straight. Thank you, thank you, his mind spins, continuing to walk until your footsteps reach his ears.

“Where are we going?” 

And there it is, that smile, looking up at him like you can fix everything in his world, and you have. Again. 

He can’t tell you, he can’t possibly speak such heartbreaking thoughts aloud. He can’t do anything that’ll cause your smile to even falter, not now, when his heart breathes to life and rises from the rubble, reaching for you.

“Just…needed some air.” Spencer’s voice is hoarse, and he can tell from the look in your eyes that you see right through him, see that something is wrong, but you don’t pry. 

Instead, you do what feels right to you.

For the first time, you slip your hand into Spencer’s and squeeze it, so gently. His hand all but engulfs yours, but he can feel every inch of your skin that touches his, and his heart soars. 

“Okay, you wanna walk round the block?” You ask, your words casual, gentle, and holding no judgement, like always.

Spencer can only nod, his IQ reduced to zero because you are holding his hand and he cannot possibly think about anything else. 

Taking his agreement, you start walking, and he walks in step beside you. On the same ground, under the same night sky, in a silent film that he feels he is a part of now. 

For a few minutes, neither of you say anything. Only casting shy smiles at each other every so often, until you decide to speak words that alter Spencer’s very brain chemistry.

“You know, you’ve become my favorite person in the world.” Your voice is quiet, almost bashful, in a way he has never heard you speak before.

Spencer frowns, his eyebrows knitted together by the confusion and bliss that swirls within him in a perfect storm, but your hand is still holding his, so he is still incapable of speaking. 

“Every new thing I come to learn about you, I adore more than the last.” You continue. “And I didn’t know what to do with that, at first, because I didn’t want to drop my feelings on you and give you no choice but to address them, I didn’t think that would be fair. So I’ve thought about it, and I’ve come to the conclusion that it’s okay.” You smile up at him in a way that makes his heart splutter frantically. “It’s okay if you don’t feel the same, because even if you don’t, I’ll still adore you just as much, and I’ll help you find the person that you come to adore in that way.” The sincerity in your eyes very nearly breaks Spencer in two, and he stops walking.

He is at an agonizing crossroads. His eidetic memory forces him to relive his tragic romantic history, from the date he asked JJ on that she invited Penelope to, to the worst day of his life, when the only girl he thought that would ever love him, was murdered right in front of him. Maeve. He never even got to hold her hand like this, say the words he’d always wanted to, thank her for giving him the chance, for letting him love her until her last moments, and beyond that. 

Tears gather in Spencer’s eyes as he looks down at you and thinks of Maeve. He had always thought that she was it, that she was his one and only chance at love, at a family, at the life he had always dreamed of, and that was out of his reach because she was. But as he gazes down at you, feels your hand squeeze his again in a way he never got to feel with Maeve, he realizes that this is different, that he is different. There is no way to know how his life would differ if he had not lost Maeve, how long they would have lasted, if at all; he stopped plaguing himself with the what-ifs long ago, settling with the agony that it was his fault, that he deserved to suffer, and he deserved to do so alone. 

But you are here. Right here. 

Smiling up at him like he’s worth more than he feels he is, pouring your heart out to him and not expecting anything in return, just wanting him to know that you adore him, because that’s who you are. And he is the person you adore. He is not without love, he is not a lost cause, his fate is not sealed. 

You are here, with Spencer, because you have chosen to be. You adore him as he is now, and he doesn’t even know who that is, but he doesn’t care anymore, because as long as you adore him, he’s okay with that. 

The tears gathering in his eyes break past the barriers and slip down his stubbled cheeks, a small smile curling at his lips, before it blossoms just as yours did the first time you saw him, into a grin, and then a quiet laugh. He looks up at the stars and takes a moment to thank them for allowing him to stay here with you, and then he takes hold of your other hand, holding both of your smaller ones in his. 

“You’ll have to give me time to formulate my thoughts into words, but for now, let me just say that I…” Spencer takes a deep breath, blinking back the tears that dare blur his perfect vision of you, and then he sighs, shaking his head. “Adore isn’t a strong enough word.” He smiles down at you. “I’m enchanted by you, and I’d be willing to challenge any belief that tries to advise me against worshipping you.”

The chuckle that passes your lips as your eyes glaze over is the most beautiful sound Spencer has ever heard, and he is definitely not biased, because he absolutely has not thought that every time he’s heard you laugh.

“Very profound, Doctor Reid.” You muse. “So, where does that leave us?”

The smile on Spencer’s face is dazed, lost in the dream of you. The stars shine above and the ground sighs below, the universe relieved to have finally guided the two of you to where you were always intended to be. 

Your question is a good one - an excellent one, Spencer would argue, solely because you were the one to ask it - and it takes several seconds for his whirring mind to piece together the words to correctly phrase the sentiment he feels deep within the heart that you have taken the time to intricately piece back together with the same gentle hands that hold his now. Eventually, though, the words find him, and he parts his smile to let that same heart speak to you.

“I honestly don’t know, but anywhere that you are, is where I want to be.”

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds imagine #imagine #imagines #fanfic #fanfiction #headcannon #headcannons

[senorabond]

Rumor Has It: Chapter 9 Peña x f!reader x Pike

Pairings: Marcus Pike x f!reader; Javier Peña x f!reader; future Peña x f!reader x Pike

Chapter 9 Summary: Flashback: All rules go out the window the first time you and Marcus are truly alone.

Rating: 18+ (Minors DNI), Explicit sexual content, additional warnings may be added for future chapters

Chapter Warnings: no use of y/n, flashback, workplace romance, oral sex (m receiving), Marcus being the softest saddest boy, bearded!Marcus, ‘good girl’ origin story

Reader/Character notes: Reader is fem!afab; No mention of Reader’s body size, shape, composition, or skin color.

Words: 4.4k

Author’s Note: I wrote most of this at the same time I was writing chapter 8; I just couldn’t get this image out of my head of sad-boi!Marcus, watching his classic films, eating his pint of Ben & Jerry’s… I decided to break up this flashback as well because there is so much I want to do with bearded Marcus and the word count was getting untenable. 

Thank you to my darling, my lovely beta, Kilamonster! I’m forever grateful for your unceasing encouragement and feedback. Besitos para ti 💋💜

Dividers by @saradika!

Masterlist || Previous Chapter

One Year EarlierWashington, D.C. 

Pike had been acting weird ever since he went on that work trip to give a deposition. At first you thought he was just grumpy from being jet lagged, or perhaps the deposition hadn’t gone well. His office door was closed most of the time, which was very unusual for him. 

The poor man looked like somebody had run over his dog. You’d never seen him look so haggard in all the months you’d been detailed to his unit. His shoulders drooped, his shirts were wrinkled, and his usually well-groomed appearance turned a bit unkempt. You had to admit the beard he’d been growing for awhile had a rakish charm about it. He’d let his hair grow out, and the forelock that fell over his forehead was simply dreamy and emphasized his large, coffee colored eyes. Apparently the sad boy look did it for you.

You saw a few members of his team try various things to engage with him, inviting him to happy hours and trivia nights, bringing him coffee and pastries each morning. He was always grateful, insisted on paying for the food and drinks, but declined all invitations. Whispers were starting to circulate about various reasons for the change in Pike’s demeanor. 

You hate rumors. Which is how you find yourself sitting in your car on a Friday night, fully intending to go to the gym, but thinking about Pike instead. This had gone on long enough. Either he needed to be snapped out of it, or needed a friend to talk to about whatever he’s going through. 

Instead of driving to the gym, you stop by the store to pick up a six-pack of beer you’ve seen Pike drink at happy hours, and go to his place. He’s hosted team hangouts there, always making sure to include you. The case you’re on now occasionally results in late nights with a few of the team ordering massive amounts of takeout and working late into the night, camped out in various locations around his living room. You’re always the first to nab the cozy throw blanket off the back of the couch and hunker down into the plush cushions.

Tonight is different. You’ve only been alone with Pike a few times, never for long, and never at his place. Those few times you have been alone were always work related or out at a social function for as long as it took for someone to get back with the next round. By the time you begin to second guess your decision to go over, you’re already in his neighborhood and turning down his street. 

You think to yourself that it’s still not too late to turn back. Then Pike’s face from that afternoon comes to mind – those big, brown eyes of his that are usually so full of passion and intelligence had dulled the last few weeks. With your mind made up, you park in front of his townhouse and grab the six-pack from your passenger seat. 

A few steps from the front door, you pause when it occurs to you that the windows are darkened. His car is there, but the only light you can see is coming from the fan-shaped window at the top of his door. He might be out, or sleeping – you check your watch – at seven o’clock on a Friday night. Or, he might have somebody over, and having a young-ish female agent from work showing up would just be an awkward mood killer. 

You hesitate, then take a step forward, thinking you’ll leave the beer for him and send a text. Shaking your head, you realize that’d just be creepy, and turn around to go back to your car. Just then, you hear his front door open and whirl around to see Pike standing there in a white undershirt and joggers. 

“Hey –”

“Hey!” You cut him off, a little too loudly and flinch. “Hey, sorry, um…” You’re not quite sure what to say at this point, it all sounds too dumb. He doesn’t look angry, just a bit bemused by your presence. Thankfully, Marcus ends the awkward silence first.

“Do you want to come in?” Stepping back, Marcus opens the door a bit wider and you can see that he’s barefoot. You’re not sure why you find that endearing.

“Yeah, thanks.” You step inside, noticing that most of the interior lights are off except for a couple at the back of the house. There’s faint noise coming from the TV in the living room. Not sure what else to do, you stand there and awkwardly hold up the six-pack. 

“I brought beer.”

“Oh, okay. Thank you.” Marcus politely takes the beer and shuts the door. As he walks back to the kitchen, he asks over his shoulder, “Did I miss a group text about a hangout?” 

“No, I just…” Sighing, you hover at the threshold of his kitchen, where he’s opening two of the beer bottles. You decide to lean into the awkwardness and just go for it. “Are you okay?”

“What? Yeah, of course I’m okay. Why do you ask?” Marcus answers far too quickly and casually, so you push.

“You’ve seemed…off lately.” Accepting a beer, you take a swig to steady your nerves. The words all come out in a rush. “Ever since you went to give that deposition. You just haven’t seemed yourself.” 

Marcus watches you silently. You shrug, and admit, “I guess I was kind of worried.” 

You pause, your stomach in knots, sure now that you’ve just been imagining things, and that you’ve overstepped the limits of your professional relationship. Marcus takes a deep breath and places both hands on the island counter, leaning with his arms straight. He fixes you with an unreadable expression.

“Did the others put you up to this?”

“No!” You assure him, stepping forward and putting your beer bottle on the counter. “Nobody put me up to this. Nobody even knows I’m here.” 

Wanting him to believe you, you place a hand on his upper arm, feeling the well developed muscles flex under your touch. 

“Really, Marcus. You can talk to me. What’s going on?” 

Marcus sniffs, then takes a long pull from his beer. 

“Have you ever seen Casablanca?”

~*~*~*~

An hour later, Casablanca plays quietly in the background, and the two of you are settled back on the couch, washing down pizza with more beer.

Turns out Marcus hadn’t expected to see you standing there when he opened his front door. He’d gotten an alert from his doorbell camera and figured it was the pizza delivery guy. You laugh together when he shows you the video captured of your exchange.

“So, wait – you were just sitting here in the dark, watching a classic romance, in your pajamas? Where’s the pint of Ben and Jerry’s?” You’re both laughing at your lighthearted ribbing. You swear Marcus blushes a bit, but the beard and dim lighting makes it hard to tell.

“In the freezer…” You laugh even harder at this revelation. “What? I was saving it for after the pizza!” 

“You’ve been holding out on me, Pike?” You give him a playful push with your foot. “Go get it!” 

Marcus’ smile looks almost back to normal as he gets up and pads off to the kitchen, returning with a pint of Chunky Monkey and two spoons. 

“So,” you start, swallowing your first bite. “Who is she? Or he – I don’t want to assume, of course.”

“Who says there’s anyone at all?” Marcus demures, taking a large spoonful for himself. You sit facing each other on the couch, hunched over the shared ice cream.

“Seriously? The movie, the comfort food, the sweats – it’s Breakup Recovery 101, and you could teach the course.” He chuckles as you knock his spoon away with your own to go after a large piece of walnut.

“I know it’s cliche, but...”

“But it helps,” you finish for him, and he nods. Selflessly, you let him take the chunk of chocolate you were gunning for. The ice cream is starting to make you feel cold and you look around the room.

“What?” Marcus asks, turning his spoon over to lick it clean. 

“Where’s the blanket that’s normally here?” You pat its usual spot on the back of the couch. 

“Oh, hang on, I’ll get it.” While you dig around for another piece of chocolate, he disappears upstairs. A minute later he’s back with the cozy throw. “Sorry, I usually put it out if I know you’re coming over.”

Marcus spreads the blanket over both your laps while you hold the ice cream out of the way. 

“You don’t normally keep it out here?” Marcus shakes his head.

“Nah, I don’t usually need a blanket. But you got cold the first time you came over – for the Superbowl party, I think? I went out and got one so you’d be more comfortable the next time.”

You stare at Marcus, blinking, as he picks through for the good bits. This man, who barely knew you the first time you came over, went out and bought a blanket to keep at his house on the off chance you got cold here again. You don’t even remember saying you were cold at the party, you’d just put on your jacket until the house warmed up a bit. You’re not sure what to make of the feelings stirring inside your chest. 

“Thanks, Marcus. That was really thoughtful.” He shrugs in reply. 

“I like my friends to be comfortable.” And that’s when you remember Marcus sees you as a friend, and you see him as one too. You swallow around a lump and clear your throat. 

“I didn’t even know you’d been seeing anyone. Will you tell me what happened?”

After a deep breath, Marcus tells you everything – about his last assignment, the woman he’d briefly been engaged to when he came to D.C., and the man she stayed behind for. He tells you about seeing both of them when he went to give the deposition. And in return, you tell him what a badass he was for laying it all out for that asshole.

“Well, I don’t know about ‘badass.’ This is so embarrassing, but I actually said I’d grown the beard out for,” he raises his fingers in air quotes, “‘an undercover thing.’”

You try not to laugh, but fail miserably. “Aw, that’s not so bad.” Marcus rolls his eyes. 

“No, really! Once after a bad breakup I dyed my hair blue and sent my ex a glitter bomb.” Marcus laughs and tugs playfully at a lock of your hair.

“I bet you looked cute as hell with blue hair.” 

“Trust me, I didn’t look nearly as cute with blue hair as you do with a beard.” You reach up and stroke the side of his scruff. The shared laughter fades, and you’re left just looking at each other, taking one another in. 

The words bubble up in your chest and flow out, “She was so stupid, Marcus. I bet she doesn’t know what she’s missing.”

Marcus smiles ruefully and ducks his head, and you leave your spoon in the carton so you can take his face in both of your hands. His cheeks are soft and warm under your touch.

“I’m serious. You’re an amazing agent, an incredible friend, and an even better human being. I mean it when I say it’s her loss.” 

Marcus’ eyes go soft and he swallows. You realize you’re still holding his face and begin to retreat, but he holds one of your hands in place, his fingers cold from the forgotten ice cream in his lap. Closing his eyes, he takes a breath and turns his face to kiss your palm.

“Thank you,” he whispers. 

Your chest is tight from holding back the urge to do – what, you’re not exactly sure. Anything, whatever it takes to bring that smile back to his face and erase the sadness from his eyes. Leaning in, you brush a gentle kiss across his cheek, then another. 

And then his lips are on yours, warm and soft, slightly sticky from the ice cream. Marcus is moving, setting the half-melted ice cream on the coffee table and letting your spoons clatter, his lips never leaving yours. 

Your arms wrap around his neck to pull him closer and you can smell the sweetness of the dessert on his beard. When he deepens the kiss, you sigh into his mouth, enjoying how his tongue tastes and feels against yours.

The scratch of the stubble doesn’t hurt, but the hairs on his upper lip tickle at your nose when you suck gently on his bottom lip. He moans, which seems to surprise him, and he pulls away, breathless. 

You try to follow but he holds your upper arms while saying, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry – I shouldn’t have – so many reasons…”

You can see he’s overthinking everything, so you put it plainly. 

“I want this, and I want you. Is that how you feel too?” 

Marcus says emphatically, “God, yes. But–”

“Let me make you feel good, Marcus.” You press your forehead to his and stroke his cheek. Placing light kisses to the corner of his mouth, then the apple of his cheek, the scruff on his jaw, you add a soft, “Please.” 

Marcus inhales sharply through his nose, and his hands flex, tightening their grip on your arms for a second. You lay a kiss at the corner of his eye, the place that crinkles so sweetly when he smiles. Turning his face into yours, he nudges your cheek with the gentle slope of his nose. His arms encircle you, one hand coming up to cup the back of your neck. 

“Let me help you forget.” 

Smoothing your hands over his chest, you try to slow your breathing. Being in Marcus’ arms, practically in his lap, is making you feel desperate. You’d do anything to make him feel better, anything to make him feel cherished. 

“Just for tonight?” A hint of pleading enters your voice. Slowly, you pull your feet under you, kneeling on the couch. Marcus swallows thickly, and when he finally speaks, his words come out hoarse. 

“Say it again.”

Not quite sure what he means, you pause for a moment, pulling back to bring him into focus. His pupils are blown, his soft lips parted. Marcus looks as wrecked as you feel. 

“Say ‘please’ again.” The words send tingles straight between your legs. 

“Please, Marcus.” 

It comes out in a whisper, immediately followed by his mouth on yours. His broad chest feels hot under your hands where you grasp the soft cotton of his t-shirt. 

He slips his large hands under the hem of your sweatshirt, then molds them to your ass. Putting your arms around the back of his neck, he lifts and helps you clamber over until you're straddling his lap.

“I want to make you feel good too,” he pants between your lips. 

Marcus leaves a scorching trail of kisses and licks down your neck until you gasp and grab a fistful of his soft hair to hold him to the spot that makes you dizzy. Feeling the evidence of his growing arousal, you roll your hips to press against him, sighing from the relief the friction gives you. Marcus lets out a soft grunt and pulls you into him again, this time lifting his hips up to meet yours. 

Unzipping the loose hoodie you’d intended for the gym, Marcus helps you free your arms from the fitted cuffs and tosses it somewhere on the floor behind you. You’re only wearing a lightweight tank top over your sports bra, and, in the back of your mind, you’re happy you happen to be wearing the nice one that actually makes your tits look good. 

Deciding to show them off, you strip the tank top over your head and toss it to the side of the couch you’d been sitting on. Marcus lets out a breath and pauses to admire your body, running his hands up and down your exposed midriff. As his hands caress your breasts, your nipples harden against the soft fabric of your bra, and he swipes a thumb over one causing you to shiver. 

Reaching down, you tug the hem of Marcus’ white undershirt up and he leans forward, allowing you to pull it all the way off. You knew his arms were nice, but his chest and shoulders would have made your knees weak if you were standing. His golden skin is dappled with a light sprinkling of freckles down the column of his neck. You lean over to kiss at the base of his throat, feeling it vibrate when he hums, then lick and suck your way across his neck and shoulder. 

“Your mouth feels good,” Marcus intones huskily.

Smiling, you nip gently at his earlobe before whispering, “It’ll feel even better on your cock.”

“Fuck,” he groans. “You want to suck my cock?”

In answer, you reach between your bodies and palm his dick through his soft jogging pants, then give it a small stroke. He grunts, then turns his head, capturing your lips in another heated kiss.

When you moan, he deepens the kiss and drags his hot tongue against yours. He tastes so good, you’re reluctant to stop, but the size and heft of him through his pants is too tempting to resist. Sliding a finger into his waistband, you give it a playful tug and feel him smile against your mouth. You slip your hand inside and wrap your fingers around his sizable cock. 

“Oh my god,” you murmur, and he huffs a small laugh that gets drawn out into a moan when you grasp him firmly in your fist. 

“I'm flattered,” he says lightly, but as you give him a tentative stroke his brow creases and he lets out a soft gasp.

“Trust me, it's not just flattery.” His breath hitches when you stroke him again and he kisses your bare shoulder. You reach down with your other hand and pull his cock free of his pants to give you more freedom of movement. 

Glancing down between your bodies, you're disappointed that you can't make out much in the darkness of the living room. Setting a slow, easy pace, Marcus groans and rests his forehead on your shoulder, grabbing a fistful of each ass cheek in his hands. 

“Does that feel good?” Your voice comes out low and intimate, almost a whisper.

Nodding, he makes small movements with his hips to thrust up into your hand. 

“Do you want more? Do you want my mouth?” 

He lets out a guttural moan and nods more empathically, pulling back to kiss you again. Breaking the kiss gently, you slide down between his splayed thighs and kneel before him, the plush rug comfortable under your knees. In this new position, you're more acutely aware of how wet you've been getting. 

You can see the top half of his cock trapped between his stomach and waistband, and eagerly reach for him.

“Take this off first,” he instructs softly, toying with the strap of your sports bra with a quirk to his lips. 

Smiling, you obey and pull off the tight garment, watching his face to see his reaction. In the dimness of the living room, the light cast from the TV flickers silently across his face, highlighting the cut of his jaw and cheekbones. 

“Beautiful,” he whispers to himself, and cups your face in his hand. He drags the pad of his thumb across your bottom lip, unconsciously flicking his tongue out to wet his own. You decide you like seeing him from this angle, awaiting his next word or move, basking in his praise.

You grasp at the elastic waistband and Marcus lifts his hips. As his cock is freed, he watches you intensely under heavy lids. Pulling his jogging pants all the way down to his ankles, you let him adjust and get comfortable while you stroke his thighs. 

Your mouth waters, impatient to feel the swollen head of his cock slipping past your lips. Grasping the solid weight of him in your fist, you pull up from the base, delighted to see a drop of precum pearl at the tip. Before it can spill over, you lean in and lick the salty substance away. 

“Fuck,” Marcus’ hips spasm involuntarily, the head of his cock bumping into your mouth. “Shit, sorry.” 

Ignoring his apology, you engulf him in your mouth and swirl your tongue around the ridge, then flick it at the sensitive spot just underneath. Keeping one hand at the base, you gather spit in your mouth and let it drip over the cut head, stroking him a few times to make it nice and slick. 

“Jesus,” he whispers, watching you create a seal between your mouth and hand, stroking the length that won’t fit in your mouth. His moans and sighs fill your ears, hands roaming your shoulders and neck, cradling your head, pulling back your hair. He’s holding back, though. Thighs and abs rigid, arms tense, he isn’t giving himself over to the pleasure.

“I want you to use my mouth,” you tell him, then take him back in your mouth. You take one of his hands and place it at the back of your head, giving yourself a push to indicate that he can pull you down if he wants. Marcus groans and gives an experimental push, but stays tense.

Pulling off him again, you stroke the head to keep him stimulated. “Please, Marcus – fuck my mouth.” 

“Oh, fuck…” Marcus slowly begins to relax, allowing his hips to buck up and meet your mouth as he gently pulls your face down. “Your mouth, it feels so good, you’re so good.” 

He drops his head to rest on the back of the couch. His large hands palm each side of your face and you take him in, all the way to the back of your throat, letting him feel the vibrations of your moans. 

“Ah, hnh, fuck…” Every bob of your head and thrust of his hips elicits a grunt or noise in the back of his throat. You’re sure you must be soaking wet now, and you’re tempted to touch yourself while you suck him off. 

“Just like that…fuck – so fucking good, baby. Take my cock – ah, yeah…” 

The sounds he's making have you moaning and whimpering around his cock, eyes closed, drool coating your mouth and chin. 

“I’m not gonna last if you keep that up– ugh, god.” 

Clenching your thighs, your hips move involuntarily, trying to get some stimulation to your throbbing clit. You need some relief, and press the heel of your palm to your mound, grinding into it in time with every thrust of Marcus’ cock into your mouth.

“Fuck, are you touching yourself while you suck me off? Does it turn you on that much, taking me deep, feeling me fuck your mouth?” 

You answer an mhmm around his cock and look up at him. From the pale light of the TV screen you can see the sheen of perspiration on his chest and forehead, his mouth open, that plump bottom lip quivering slightly. 

He meets your eye as he fucks into your mouth. “Shit, that’s so good, baby, don’t stop – your fucking mouth – ah, god, yeah, keep playing with yourself, good girl.”

Good girl. 

Your clit throbs and you let out an involuntary moan, your eyes fluttering shut. Nobody has ever called you a ‘good girl’ before, but Marcus’ ceaseless praise activates a part of your brain you didn't know existed. 

You need to make Marcus feel good, and you feel driven to perform well enough to earn that ‘good girl’ from him again. You want to taste and swallow his cum as your reward. 

Eyes closed again, you press down and relax your jaw, suppressing your gag reflex around the softer glans as you grip the rock hard base of his cock. 

“Fuck, I can feel your throat, baby. You still touching yourself?”

You manage to whimper another mhm and nod slightly before he's hitting the back of your throat again. Your pussy is on fire, already clenching around nothing, desperate to take Marcus’ cock.

“Unh, yeah, don’t stop, I love how turned on you are by this. I can’t wait to taste you too – do you want that? You want my mouth too?” 

Moaning your assent, you caress a hand over whatever planes of his body you can reach without breaking rhythm, feeling the muscles in his abs and thighs quiver as he thrusts steadily. 

“Oohh fuck, yeah – you're taking me so deep, that’s it, that’s … that’s a good girl.”

There it is again, those two words: good girl. A keening sound comes from your throat in response. Head swimming, you'd swear you're drunk off his cock and his words. 

Marcus’ voice is getting more strained, wavering from guttural to breathy. His cock swells in your mouth and your eyes water slightly.

“Fuck, baby, you’re getting me so close. Do you want my cum?” 

Whimpering, you use both hands to grasp onto his hips, keeping up the pace with your mouth as his hips stutter. 

"I’m so close, where do you want it?” His words are rushed and tense, but you never break your stride, moaning around his cock and making your answer obvious. 

“Shit. Here it comes – I’m cu–” Marcus doesn’t get a chance to finish his warning before his cock is pulsing and shooting his cum onto the back of your tongue. Letting out a hoarse cry, he grips reflexively to your face and hair as his orgasm rips through him.

“Ah, ahh, yes, take my cum – so good, so fucking good for me…” 

As the last shudders ripple through his muscles, he sighs and strokes your face tenderly while you happily milk the last drops of his cum into your mouth. You can’t help feeling a sense of accomplishment and pride in making Marcus feel so good. 

Before either of you can catch your breath, Marcus leans over and captures your mouth in a deep kiss. You both moan as his tongue explores your mouth, tasting himself in every corner.  

“That was incredible,” he sighs between kisses. “You’re incredible.” 

Marcus kisses up your jaw to your ear and whispers, “I want to make you feel just as good…” He drags the tip of his tongue from earlobe to pulsepoint, then makes you lose nearly all your senses as he sucks and nibbles on the sensitive spot.

Still on your knees, Marcus’ assault on your neck has you arched back until you feel the press of the coffee table behind you. It’s not exactly uncomfortable, but you are positioned awkwardly enough that you cling to Marcus for stability, the muscles in his back broad and firm under your hands. 

“Bedroom.” It’s the only word you manage to gasp out. 

“Upstairs.” His reply would sound casual if not for the heat in his voice. 

“Show me.” 

Marcus stands, helping you regain your balance on your feet. He kisses your lips again, then pulls back with a sly grin on his face. 

“Say, ‘please.’”

Chapter 10 - Coming Soon!

Additional Author’s Note: Thank you, thank you, THANK YOU for all the lovely comments and reblogs! I can’t tell you how much they mean to me. As always, I would love-love-love to know what you think. I really want to become a better writer, so any and all feedback is welcome! Thank you for reading! 💜

No-Pressure Taglist - I just like making friends!: @kilamonster @half-moon16 @for-a-longlongtime @pedroswife69 @pedroshotwifey @angiewatson @morallyinept @peepawispunk @i-wanna-be-your-muse @marysucks-blog @guelyury @connectioneverywhere @sunshinehaze1 @drewharrisonwriter @venturawriter @survivingandenduring @thetriumphantpanda @umniamusic @itsbrandy @eyeswidecovered @myntyuu @cajuncayenne @kirsteng42 @tupelomiss @jensensational71 @mellymbee @urmomsgnocchi @your-slutty-gf @sinpathyforthedevilish @searchedhighandlo @lizzie-cakes @tkingbacksydney @littlemisspascal @din-jarhead @read-and-wip @thegirlwiththecircus @jessthebaker @rav3n-pascal22 @hotgirlbedtimescenarios @penvisions @lotusbxtch @devineconjuring @ezrasbirdie @perotovar @ilovejavierpena @ozarkthedog @swiftispunk @agentjackdaniels-blog @janaispunk

#rumor has it fic #senorabond writes #rumor has it marcus #saddest boi marcus #lets make him feel better #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal #javi x reader x pike #marcus pike the mentalist #marcus pike fanfiction #marcus pike #marcus pike x reader #marcus pike x you

[saywhatjessie]

you should take your sweater off first, pal

Day six of the Advent calendar! Using this list. Day 6: Sweater Weather. Fandom: Ted Lasso - Pairing: RoyJamie 1.1k[Ao3]

“What is the fucking point of all the ugly clothes you buy if you’re just going to steal mine?”

“I refuse to be lectured on fashion from someone who only wears things that are black and black adjacent.”

“This isn’t a lecture – that was clearly an irritated aside on a different complaint. The complaint being you are wearing my fucking sweater.”

“Well it’s cozy, innit! Ain’t my fault you only have clothes from fifty years ago and they don’t make things like they used to.”

Roy grunted. He wanted to argue that the state of fast fashion was not his fault and he should not be punished but, if he were being honest with himself – and he tried to do that more these days – seeing Jamie in his clothes wasn’t exactly a punishment.

“Well what are we going to do when your stupid shoulders stretch it out?”

“I assume you’ll thank whichever god you want for giving you a boyfriend with such massive and sexy shoulders.”

Roy growled. Jamie stuck his tongue out.

“Well seeing as the damage is already done, you can keep wearing that one.” Jamie preened. “But no more. I only have so many sweaters from 50 years ago, I’d like you not to disfigure the others.”

Jamie pouted. “Well what happens when this one don’t smell like your old man stink anymore? I mean there are worse fates for a jumper than to smell like Jamie Tartt, but it shouldn’t forget where it comes from.”

“It can’t remember anything, it’s a fucking sweater,” Roy said, rolling his eyes. “You can just say you like that it smells like me.”

Jamie shook his head. “Can’t say that. You’ll get a big head.”

“We have fucked in my trophy room, I already know you’re obsessed with me.”

“Says the man who wanked to a youtube compilation of Jamie Tartt’s best goals!”

“You were there too! You fucking helped!”

“Well I know I’m fit, why wouldn’t I get off to me?”

Roy pinched the bridge of his nose. “We’re getting sidetracked.”

Jamie retreated further into the sweater, pouting at Roy with his chin tucked in the collar and the sleeves over his hands.

Roy sighed. “I will wear the sweater when it loses my smell so it smells like me again. Happy?”

It’s all fine until Roy is called into an emergency meeting with the fucking Diamond Dogs.

Jamie grinned. “I’ll be happier if you give us a cuddle. I’m still freezin’. Honestly, grandad, you’re stinking rich. You can afford to properly heat your house.”

“I’m filing a complaint with HR,” Roy said as soon as the Facetime call connected. “I shouldn’t be called into these after working hours.”

Ted made a ‘pshh’ sound. “Diamond Dogs ain’t work, Roy! I’d say we’re more pleasure than business.”

“Well that’s definitely a call to HR,” Trent said, smirking.

“Higgins might be asleep already,” Nate noted, rubbing his eyes. “Ted, did you forget the time difference?”

“Little bit, yeah” Ted winced. “I never did get the hang of doing it the other way. So used to thinking backwards than forwards.”

“It’s not that late,” Roy grunted. “Higgins just might be asleep because he’s got so many fucking kids. Not sure what Nate’s excuse is.”

“Fell asleep on the couch watching a film.” Nate explained, shrugging. “Didn't mean to. This call waking me up actually probably saved my back.”

“Well good!” Ted beamed. “And what a treat it is to see you all in your comfy clothes, too. Trent is that a blanket hoodie?”

Trent hummed. “Softest and warmest thing I’ve ever owned.”

“I’m more surprised by Roy,” Beard said, totally deadpan. “I’ve never seen you anything so ill fitting.”

Roy looked down to see he was wearing The Jamie Sweater.

He grunted. “Used to fit until Jamie stole it. fucking muppet stretched it all out.”

“He’s like a labrador that still thinks he’s a lap dog even after he gets big,” Ted mused, fondly. Roy snorted in agreement.

“Why not just give it to him if it doesn’t fit you anymore?” Nate asked.

“I did.”

Beard raised an eyebrow. “But you’re wearing it.”

Roy growled, crossing his arms.

“Well,” Trent said, appearing very much like the smug reporter he used to be. "Knowing what I do about borrowing boyfriend’s sweaters – both being a boyfriend whose sweater was borrowed and having borrowed sweaters from boyfriends – I’d say Roy is performing the standard smell return.”

Beard grinned, crossing his arms too. “You’re making the sweater smell like you again for your boyfriend.”

“Shut it,” Roy growled.

“Aw, now Roy, that’s sweeter than an immediate hotel room full of chocolate bars.”

Nate nodded. “Suite full of sweets toot sweet.”

Ted and Beard pointed at him.

“I’m hanging up,” Roy said.

“I’m here!” Higgins said, call connecting as he wheezed through some requisite howls. “What have I missed?”

“Mostly Roy and Jamie being shockingly wholesome as a couple,” Beard answered.

“Aw!” Higgins smiled.

When they finished their meeting, it was half ten, and Jamie was already in bed. They didn’t do 4am training anymore since Roy was manager, but Jamie did get up and train on his own most mornings before they headed into Nelson Road. Gave Roy more time for all the shitty boring manager paperowk he had to do now but it did mean more early nights.

“No,” Roy said “Fuck off enough about me." He let out a massive bark. “Ted, what the fuck is your problem?”

Early nights they spent together because they were surprisingly wholesome. Fuck Roy’s life.

Roy removed his trousers and crawled in next to him, Jamie immediately turning to nuzzle into his chest.

“Fucking Diamond Dogs saw what you did to my sweater and think we’re sweet now.”

Jamie snorted. “No amount of clothes sharing could make you sweet. You’re Roy fucking Kent. You’re a bitter old cunt and that’s why we love you.”

Roy hummed. “Bitter like unsweetened dark chocolate.”

“Bitter like stale coffee you keep in the back of the cabinet for the weirdos who don’t drink tea.”

Roy smiled, a small thing that he was sure Jamie could still see even with his eyes closed. “Thanks, babe.”

Jamie hummed, his hand running over Roy’s chest. “You know it’s about the same level of furriness with and without the sweater,” Jamie noted.

Roy rolled his eyes. “I hate you,” he said, kissing the top of Jamie’s head.

“I know,” Jamie answered on a happy sigh. “But you’re really bad at it.”.

#Ted Lasso #RoyJamie #oops I wrote a thing #writing advent

[orchestraytedkhaos]

Rexsoka. Yeah, it's my ship. Still.

I mainly just lurk here, reading fanfic and enjoying the memes. But the angst of the last few has given me the courage to dive in and say a few words.

First, let me clear the air: Rebels was when I started shipping Rexsoka. Prior to their reunion on that show, it had never ever occurred to me to ship them. Despite having read the novels.

So, yeah, look, I totally get the opposition to shipping early Clone Wars Rex and Ahsoka. She's a child. He's a child too, arguably, although his accelerated maturation makes everything super messy. The military structure and fact that Rex is basically a slave means its got power issues galore. Then for those in the US, there is the whole 18 year old age of consent thing (noting, for good or ill, it's 16 most other places). I get why this squicks people. It's the SanSan of Star Wars.

But people grow up. Even on TV.

Season 7 Ahsoka is 17 going on 18, and effectively an adult. She's commanded armies, and just spent a year living and working independently. She is also obviously mature and, frankly, animated that way. Rex is a long term friend, they love and care for each other, and by the end of the season, she basically risks everything for him, and he for her. The episodes are also written in a very obviously shippy way, with the gazing, the chats, the meaningful converstions, the hand holding and the tears. Not to mention that sad, moonlit reunion in Tales of the Jedi.

And although I dont think it matters much, by this time, even taking Rex at double chronological age, the gap is pretty mild by fantasy standards. 17-18 and about 26, roughly the same as Buffy and age-corrected Angel, and way less than Han and Leia.

Fast forward to Rebels, and we have two mature adults with a shared history and goals, who love, trust and admire each other, share common interests, and are amongst the most important people in each other's lives. It's a believable and natural thing for that to progress to something more. The challenges to their relationship are things like, for Ahsoka, the lingering memory of the Jedi code and Anakin and Padme's destructive passion, and Rex's rapid aging, status and limited life experiences. It is those kinds of emotional and external barriers and their shared trauma that make the romance so interesting.

Season 7 + and Rebels Rexsoka is classic friends to lovers, and one of the nicest, softest and most realistic relationships in Star Wars. The opposition to it, and moraliatic shaming of those who like is, is something I simply don't get. It's bizarre. There are heaps of ships that are far, far more problematic (including Anakin/Padme) that don't get this hate.

Like, anti dudes, what exactly *is* the problem here? I suspect the it's that some people just want to get their hate on.

The recent flashbacks? Yeah, that one on Mandalore complicates thing, but I doubt they had stomping on shippers in mind when they cast Ariana, as I have seen suggested elsewhere. The more likely scenario is that - at about 14 yo when this was filmed - Ariana was totally perfect for the first flashback, and is perfect for playing young Ahsoka going forward. Even setting aside that she is an amazing actress, she's insanely athletic and can duel weild light sabres while knee walking though a twist. She's also already tied to Disney. She wasn't quite right for the part, and, I agree, that does make watching it in light of the fanfic a bit uncomfortable. But, it's not just a shipper issue. Putting an Ahsoka that looks and sounds like that in the episodes with the Martez sisters and Bo Katan is weird af too, and doesn't work. I doubt it is meant to.

Story-wise, the best and only real take is that the flashbacks aren't live action replays. The Mandalore scene doesnt even chronologically match what happened (Ahsoka is so fighting Saxon in that scene, which never happened). They are visions about Ahsoka and Anakin and their relationship, not live action replays. Both remember her as a child caught up in a war. Smoke, the fog of war, flashing lights and dying, faceless clones.

And Anakin and Rex.

What I take from these is that in Ahsoka's mind, and Anakin's too for that matter, Rex is always there for her. Standing in the chaos, calm and confident in himself and in her, and looking badass as heck. With an older Ahsoka it would have absolutely been smoking scene from her pov, and no way was it written otherwise. As an older Ahsoka remembering, it's hot. As younger Ahsoka, he's there as her protector and friend.

Do I do ever think this ship will play out on screen? Not, no explicitly. And, yeah, it probably is harder now because of that vision (although if they ever do film a younger Ahsoka series, they will undoubtedly be casting a young actor for Rex, and Ariana will, by then, be 18). But I don't think that was intentional, and I don't think that much has changed. It was always intended to be an "open for interpretation" relationship, written with the possibility not excluded. And I am good with that. Perhaps I even prefer it. Star Wars has a truly dreadful record with romance and, besides, too often cementing subtle or ust-based ships kill them. I just hope this hasn't, because it's still my ship and I love it.

#rexsoka #That flashback/vision #I am not shipping Ariana's Ahsoka #captain rex #Rex x Ahsoka #ahsoka #Rexsoka #star wars tcw #ahsoka is seventeen in the siege of mandalore #ahsoka tano

[absolutebl]

10 Great Slow Burn BLs

I was asked about great chemistry, slow burn, with lots of pining and yearning, and an HEA (of course). For slow burn there will be less high heat due to the style of narrative, so I am going with actor chemistry, as well as emotional and mental resonance, not necessarily physical chemistry. (Something like Bed Friends could be argued is high heat slow burn... which would be what? A rolling boil?)

Honestly, slow burn is pretty relative, so I'm going with romance pacing puts the kiss and togetherness at the back 1/3 (if not the very last episode). Rather than at the "normal" 2/3.

1. Light On Me (Korea 2021 Viki)

Korea does an elegant pastiche of traditional live action yaoi but all filming is cleverly deployed to bolster one of the most riveting love triangles ever put on screen… and I don’t like love triangles. The high school angst is strong with this one and it's certainly slow burn and there is some EPIC yearning drawn out over a longer than usual KBL. Full review.

2. My School President (Thai 2023 YouTube)

GMMTV gave us a classic high school set Thai BL with tropes like messy boys singing their feelings that made this one Love Sick for the modern age with all the gentle sweetness and pining ache, but none of the dated damaging tropes or issues. Yes, we’ve seen it all before, but I still ADORE this. And there is a lot to be said for the classics being executed perfectly. Who let my BL be this wholesome and funny? Possibly too slow burn for some, we wait many eps for that pay out, and Tin's pining is NOT quiet, but it defined dorky and earnest.

3. Old Fashion Cupcake (Japan 2022 Viki)

It's hard to call such a short show slow burn, but it is. There are many episodes spent watching Togawa just HUNGER for Nozue and try to court him by feeding. This is about a younger man with a long cherished crush on his boss (ten years older and going through a mid life crisis) who decides to save and seduce said boss with pancakes. It’s wholesome, comforting, sexy, and a very necessary narrative about still having hope, interests, and openness to affection at any age. It’s a stunningly filmed late-in-life coming of age/queerness story packaged in a subtle critique of expectations around masculinity, love, and loneliness… and it’s beautiful. Full review.

4. My Ride (Thai 2022 Gaga)

Thai BL grew up with this pulp (the first ever to make my end of year top 10). It’s a truly lovely and special little show featuring the extremely rare pairing of sunshine/sunshine (AKA a cinnamon roll couple) plus mature explorations of relationships using one of the softest, sweetest and most innocent friends to lovers vehicles. Kindly, overworked doctor meets broken-hearted motorcycle taxi driver in an “other side of the tracks” slow burn romance. Even though we see them meet, we also see one of them fall in love, step back, and PINE for olympic gold. With honest queer rep that adds to, but doesn’t impede, the story, and genuine conversation about the nature of class, wealth, and classism, not to mention communication, honesty, and respect for boundaries, you can’t go wrong with this show. Full review.

5. Cherry Magic (Japan 2020 fan sub)

AKA 30 Years of Virginity Can Make You a Wizard AKA 30-sai made Dotei Da to Mahotsukai ni Nareru rashii AKA Cheri Maho

The sweetest fluffiest magical realism BL, packaged as a pinning office romance, very low heat (practically chaste) but the cutest. It’s truly great. Don't expect kisses tho.

6. Wish You: Your Melody in My Heart (Korea 2020 Viki)

Set in the music industry featuring a talented singer and the pianist who falls in love with him (and his music), subtle and achingly adorable. High production, low heat, short run, very tame, and Korea, so all the pretty. Slow burn and lots of pining.

7. About Youth (Taiwan 2022 Gaga)

A truly lovely little coming of age high school BL with a classic YA low drama but high angst and an earnest depth. I didn’t even mind the singing, and that’s saying a lot. A weak seme/uke dynamic but tons of BL tropes (both rare in a high school setting but common for Taiwan) makes this one feel both sweet and colored by an almost real world authenticity and grit. Full review here.

8. The Tasty Florida (Korea 2021 Viki)

Another one where it's hard to describe as slow burn because it's so short, but there is certainly that feel and it's def got the pining. Not really a love triangle featuring the prettiest men ever to be grouped together outside of K-pop, honestly the visuals are ridiculous, there’s a story, it has to do with food, whatever, they so pretty.

9. See You After Quarantine? (Taiwan 2021 Viki)

This under appreciated gem is Taiwan’s answer to Gameboys and is just as charming and adorable yet still as quintessentially Taiwanese as one might hope. It features a Japanese love interest and the cutest most confused disaster gay. Slow burn because the two have almost no actual screen time together and yet manage some truly amazing chemistry. How does Taiwan do it?

10. Restart After Come Back Home (Japan 2020 Gaga)

AKA Risutato wa tadaima no ato de

Atmospheric study in rural Japan meets complex family dynamics built on a romance framework of city boy meets country boy, grumpy/sunshine. It’s beautiful and icy sweet. Slow moving in places but ultimately worth the patience, low heat, low angst, and stunning. Full review here.

Others?

A Tale of a Thousand Stars

Step By Step

Our Dining Table

Where Your Eyes Linger

Choco Milk Shake

Love Class

DNA Says Love You

My Only 12%

Dear Doctor I’m Coming for Soul

2nd part of the question:

Who does it best? Shows, actors, countries?

COUNTRIES

I have said it before and I will say it again, no one does thirst like Japan. I think however, Korea is also very good at pining and yearning. So for "countries" those would be my top picks. But most BL producers have some examples, it's just that Thailand, Taiwan, and the Philippines tend to pay out the yearning more quickly (see something like 2 Moons Ambassador for an example of this kind of pacing).

Japan and Korea will make you wait for it. For Thailand you usually have to rely on the high school stuff. 21 Days Theory and Love Sick are both also slow burn.

ACTORS (characters)

I do have a post about great piners, several in fact.

(from @crowie ask)

These top 10 picks are based on my personal definition of slow burn and pining, yours may differ.

Post updated June 2023 and only contains BL that has completed its run. Not responsible for epic pining or fab slow burn BL that comes after that date.

Please feel free to comment or repost with additions! Share the love... slow though it may be.

(source)

#asked and answered #slow burn bl #slow burn romance #slow burn #recommended bl #high school bl #top bl #bl list #pining characters #korean bl #japanese bl #thai bl #taiwanese bl #Restart After Come Back Home #Risutato wa tadaima no ato de #See You After Quarantine? #The Tasty Florida #About Youth #Wish You: Your Melody in My Heart #KBL #Cherry Magic #30-sai made Dotei Da to Mahotsukai ni Nareru rashii #My Ride the series #Viki #gagaoolala #Old Fashion Cupcake #My School President #GMMTV #Light On Me #30 Years of Virginity Can Make You a Wizard

[tieronecrush]

HELLO CONGRATS ON YOUR MILESTONE ILY <3

obviously I am sending you a smut prompt 🛍️ this one makes my brain go fuzzy

“can you look at me? please?”

and I would love that with literally any Pedro boy you like but I'm feeling either Dieter (bc this man is observed constantly but rarely ever seen I think) or Frankie (bc he do be beggin)

TYSM HANNY BANANNY ILY TOO BESTIE

the idea of dieter asking to be seen just overcame me when i sat down to write this so it is him <3

dieter bravo x f!reader

18+ ONLY, MDNI - no other warnings on my drabbles

After midnight on this random Saturday night, or technically Sunday morning, you find yourself in the bed of your latest match off of your new dating app — Dieter.

Academy Award-Winning actor Dieter fucking Bravo.

To be fair, you hadn’t seen the film he won for, Hunger Strike, and only saw stuff about his featured role in Cliff Beasts 6 and the documentary that was made out of the behind-the-scenes shitshow that was creating that movie.

To you, it had been a fluke that you’d been accepted onto Raya, the app you’d matched with him through. You garnered a generous amount of Instagram followers for posting your art, and have ended up having an extremely successful career selling your originals and prints. During a wine night with your friends, you’d been drunkenly convinced to apply for an invitation onto the app — one of your friends had been accepted a few months before and had been basically a reference for you. It was all very official, and it had gotten you some pretty good matches: actors, YouTubers, photographers, agents, and more.

This was new for you though — it was normally one dinner or drinks, or heading straight to the hookup. You’d done minimal chatting before all of these meetups, but things were different with Dieter. He’d messaged you first, and you’ve been talking for at least two weeks and FaceTiming while he’s been finishing up filming in Canada.

He was actually kind of…sweet.

There was no pressure in your conversations, and no awkward silences when you FaceTimed. His messages made you laugh, made you smile, even gave you butterflies when he complimented your work or called you “a spectacularly arresting genius.”

And after all of those days and nights spent getting to know each other and exchanging spiraling ideas from your chaotic minds, you have ended up here in his California king with the softest linen sheets you’ve ever felt — currently straddling him after he made you come with his fingers and his mouth.

He fills you up completely when you’re fully seated on his hips, soft whimpers echoing through his massive primary bedroom. His fingertips are gripping tight to your hips, surely leaving bruises under their wake when he moves them to your thighs to give you full mobility of your hips.

“Fuck, babygirl, you’re a fucking vision over me right now.”

He sits up, one arm wrapping around your back as a moan of your name leaves his lips at the feeling of you finally starting to ride him, lifting and grinding your hips around his cock. His mouth latches onto one of your breasts, kissing the velvety skin and sucking at your nipple. The pleasure stutters your movements, a gasp projecting from your lungs when Dieter fucks up into you, his slapdash pace shaking your thighs as his hit against you.

“Oh my god, Dieter…” Your breathy call to him is punctuated with a high-pitched whine, your head rolling back and eyes screwed shut. All you can manage to reciprocate is circling your hips while his cock drives hard against your walls, the tip of him nailing that spongy spot in you with every thrust. A vice grip is taut through your forearms and hands, digging your nails into the skin of his broad shoulders.

“Can you look at me? Please?” The sincerity in his tone snaps your head forward and your eyes blink open, finding him less than a foot away from you. Steamy air spills from both of your ajar mouths, the tenderness — no, the vulnerability in his eyes is palpable. The intensity of his stare glues yours to his, the only exchanges besides flashes of pleasure in irises being sultry exhales that you both swallow from the other.

“Tell me how it feels for you, babygirl. Wanna hear your voice, please.”

You struggle at first to find any words for this moment, finally clearing all the jumbled thoughts about him to give you something to say.

“I feel so…connected to you. Hasn’t ever felt like this before. Like, a whole ‘nother level…”

“I feel it too, babygirl. Can’t even describe it, really. You fit me like a puzzle piece — your sweet pussy, your curves against me, even your fucking wildly brilliant brain. Could do this all day and night with you, baby, if it always feels like this.”

“Fuck, Dieter, ‘m close, I-I—”

“Let go, beautiful girl, come for me. Wanna feel you all over me, squeezing me.”

It’s a fall from grace — if you could call what you were doing graceful. Blinding hot pleasure radiates all over your skin, vibrating at every point he is connected to you. His name falls from your lips over and over, even a soft thank you thrown in the midst of your visions of heaven. Dieter was guiding you through the winding orgasm, his own hips continuing to hit up against your thighs before they stutter, his warm release coating your walls and extending your euphoria while you watch him come undone under you.

Chests rise and fall at an exponentially slower rate while you both float down, coming back into your bodies and locking into that same intense eye contact from before. It’s a silent transfer of energy until Dieter breaks the quiet first, his palms skating up your thighs with a trail of goosebumps.

“Is it too soon to ask to see you again?”

#tieronecrushcandy #dieter #writing #dieter bravo x reader #dieter bravo x f!reader #dieter bravo smut #dieter bravo x female reader

[this-is-moony-lovegood]

The Bachelorette AU

My Buck on the Bachelorette AU is up to 14.5k and I am getting so close to finishing it. I haven't had a fanfic worm like this in a while and I cannot stop writing it! Hopefully, I'll have it posted before the episode on Thursday! In the meantime, here is a snip-it of Buck's hometown visit. (Oh, and for context, the show has started airing while they are finishing filming, please keep that in mind).

...

Three days later Eddie finds himself at Bobby and Athena’s house getting mic’d up by an ABC tech crew for Buck’s hometown visit. Buck should be here any minute, and Eddie is finding himself rather nervous. It’s been weeks since he’s seen Buck, and the first time he’s seen him in person since his big love revelation. What do you even say to the love of your life when they introduce you to their girlfriend, who has three other boyfriends? There really is no rulebook for this, and it had Eddie ready to throw up.

But then Buck walks in the door, and all of that worry fades away. The show must have taken them somewhere tropical in the past few weeks because he’s glowing, sunkissed really. The smile on his face as he greets everyone again stretches completely across his face, so much that he has the corners of his eyes crinkling. 

When he reaches Chris, he practically tackles him into a hug before ruffling his hair and gushing about how much he’s missed him. Eddie would’ve thought they had been apart of ages by the way Buck looks like he might just tear up from the sight of his kid.

And then he meets Eddie’s eyes, and Eddie can feel his fond smile growing wider by the second. “Hey, Eds.” Buck says softly, in a huge contrast to the strength of the hug that he pulls Eddie into. Eddie squeezes him back just as hard, craving the contact that he’s missed so much in the past month. When Buck holds him everything in the room fades out, and it's as if it's just them in their own little private bubble. No one can enter, it's just Eddie and Buck. Buck and Eddie. How it's supposed to be.

Eddie pulls back, still clutching Buck when he says, “Hey, Buck,” with one of the softest smiles he’s probably ever worn adorning his lips. He’s a sucker. Everyone in this room, everyone on TV will probably know that he’s in love with Buck from this smile alone, but he doesn’t care. He’s missed him so fucking much.

Of course, the moment can’t last though, because Buck pulls back to catch Emma’s hand. He had almost forgotten about her being there at all. Fuck, he’s barely has time to catch himself before he grimaces at the sight of her. “Eddie, Chris, this is Emma. Emma, meet my best friends.”

Eddie is cordial - he has to be - and introduces himself to her. She’s even more beautiful in person than she is on the screen. Long blonde hair that flows down her back in simple ringlets, blue-green eyes, long lashes, and a light dusting of freckles across her cheeks. Her simple yellow sundress stands out in the darker room, making her light up the space. And when Buck looks at her, she beams the brightest white smile before she blushes and ducks her head in embarrassment. He’s known her for exactly one minute and he can tell she’s head over heels in love with his best friend. 

Sure he didn’t watch this week’s episode, but it doesn’t matter. From everything he has seen Emma hasn’t looked at a single guy on this show the way she looks at Buck. That ache inside him grows stronger, knowing that she’s going to pick him, and he can’t even blame her. She should pick him. There’s not a single better option than Evan Buckley.

#buddie #buddie fic #buddie fic: the bachelorette au #911 fic #buddie wip #tease tidbit tuesday

[helloemmaz3]

Random rant on Rob Zombie's halloween movies:

Many fans of the franchise were critical of the film, claiming that Zombie ruined Micheal Myers by humanizing him and giving him a childhood backstory, thus ruining his mystery and scariness, and hurting the franchise.

Firstly I don't think those who argue this seem to understand that Rob Zombie's Michael was his own version of Michael Myers not a continuation of the Carpenter's Myers hence why they both have different personalities and carry themselves differently. I'm stating this given the scene in the 2007 Halloween film where Michael shows Laurie a picture of him and her as children. In that moment, Michael Myers was clearly not the "Shape" or "The Boogeyman '' Loomis had portrayed him to be. He was a damaged person with severe mental health issues that was mistreated by society, and this is the image of Michael Rob Zombie wanted to convey.

Secondly, if I'm being honest with y'all, giving Michael Myers a believable backstory was refreshing after the ridiculous directions the Halloween franchise had previously taken during that time. 

Lastly, does changing Michael's character hurt the franchise? In all honesty, I doubt it. As a matter of fact, I believe the change added more subtleties to Michael Myers than simply being the epitome of evil. Compared to his original counterpart, RZ Michael is much more complex and nuanced. His backstory, motivations, and personality make him more interesting than just a white mask wearing killer. As a result, he managed to be both the most brutal and softest version of Myers I have ever seen. I think the franchise benefitted from the little nuance.

Regarding Rob Zombie's Myers, I want to explain the reason as to why Rob Zombie changed up his character, and the answer is simple: 

He didn’t want his version of Halloween to be stylized or continued in Carpenter's vision, but his own. Thus he created his own version of Michael Myers. 

I believe the reason for people's disdain for this version of the character can be traced back to this, the fact that Rob actually went on to follow his own artistic vision rather than the traditional one.

His remake wasn't a remake it was supposed to be in the eyes of fans who expected a traditional Halloween remake. He acknowledged that there was no point in approaching the story of halloween the exact same way because honestly what would be the point of just doing the same thing as the original again when the original is already a classic?

A good remake should always aim to re-imagine things and show us something different than the original in my opinion; otherwise there is no point for the remake to exist.

It might seem pedantic but his Halloween was a reimagining- so he was taking it from the perspective of "what if this is how things played out"

His film didn’t erase any of the previous films or lore. Through his version of Michael and showing how his character affects others, he takes a different approach to Halloween that is more grounded on emotion and tragedy.

This is best illustrated by how Zombie portrayed the death of Michael's victims. Zombie chooses to linger on the pain and fear of Michael's victims and not just make quick and easy deaths people would enjoy. He never wanted viewers to enjoy the death Michael causes but be uncomfortable by it as they witnessed how his horrific acts caused havoc among those around him. The first instance of this is in Michael's fatal confrontation with his bully, in which the kid begged Michael to stop, but Michael ended up beating him to death. Even after Michael's brutal attacks and killings, in the second installment, people are left with mental, emotional and/or physical scars.

Rather than a quick slasher flick about a man in a white mask killing off babysitters at night, Rob Zombie's Halloween movie seems more like a story about trauma.

All in all, Rob Zombie has a very specific type of film, and if you're not for that style, his duology probably weren't going to float your boat. His Michael Myers take was deliberately designed to be a real-life-grounded serial killer because his goal was to build a real life, "nurtured" psychopathic killer from the ground up rather than Evil possessing a random kid one day. You know, a massive storytelling difference on purpose.

I feel like Zombie's version shouldn't honestly be compared to the original since he wasn't trying to follow what the original Halloween did because he never wanted to copy and paste what John Carpenter did. He wanted to go through his own vision. I actually appreciate that it deviates from the original because John Carpenter told RZ to make the movie his own, and I'd rather a movie try to be different.

Seeing how this is the end of my rant, I also want to add that Studio interference certainly affected the movie since the backstory was actually supposed to be one complete movie that he was forced to shorten and fit into the completed movie. The second movie was going to be the actual Halloween. Which would have been so interesting to see!

This does not mean I think the movie is without fault . In fact a major criticism I myself have for the movie is more about the writing itself. There were times when the dialogue seemed forced and cheesy, like i lowkey feel like Zombie shouldn't be writing his own scripts or at least have others to edit the script. And god don't get me started on the unneeded and disgusting sexual assault scene that was there for "realism" or shock value. I really preferred the prison guard scene that displayed Michael's brute strength and unstoppable nature, especially the scene where he let all the other patients out. 

If you didn't agree or like this rant, then tough shit...I’m fucking with you, I’d like to read your thoughts, just don't crucify me. I don't expect people to agree honestly because there is more hate than love for this movie, but i do want y'all to understand this movie is Rob Zombie's own thing, not a continuation of the orginal Michael Myers.

If you did like this rant then here is a really good analysis of both Rob Zombie's Halloween movies, this guy did a really great explaining shit I couldn’t put into words:

#rz michael myers #rz!michael myers #halloween 2007 #michael myers #og michael myers #halloween 1978 #Og!michael myers #rob zombie #john carpenter #slasher fucker #don't ask about the second to last tag #rob zombie halloween #Halloween 2009 #tyler mane

[sebsxphia]

Alternative fuck, marry, kill anon here again. I got another new list for you:

Have him tell you a secret he never told anyone and feels insecure about generally; run your fingers through his hair in the morning before he wakes up; run him a bath after he gets home from a long day away from you, holding his hand while he soaks

Contenders:

Jake

Finn

Charlie

my beloved anon!!!!!!!!! let’s go!!!!!!!!!!! thank you so much for these, i absolutely love them! 💌💗

Finn. Have him tell you a secret he never told anyone and feels insecure about generally. As much as Finn puts on this boisterous front of cocky and a fun guy, there’s definitely an under layer in which he keeps a lot hidden.

He’s naturally a social butterfly and I know he’s heard some things he shouldn’t have. Telling you a secret would feel like the biggest weight lifted off his shoulders and he knows he can well and truly trust you.

Charlie. Run your fingers through his hair in the morning before he wakes up. Have! You! Seen! His! Hair! In! That! Film! It is the softest and fluffiest head of hair I’ve ever seen. It is made for my fingers to run through it.

Also! Given the chaotic nature of Charlie’s work, those moments in the morning with you as you curl your fingers through his hair, it’s bliss. It starts his day off right and reminds him why he’s working. He’s doing this all for you so he can experience this every morning.

Jake. Run him a bath after he gets home from a long day away from you, holding his hand while he soaks. I have written about Jake and baths for as long as I can remember. He gets thrown around in an aircraft all day and if he’s not experiencing that, his body is going through a world of pain in training.

He deserves to come home after a long day, soak his muscles and decompress with me. He loves it because he can soothe and repair himself, all whilst telling you everything about his day and vice versa. Bonus points if you join him in the bath or wash his hair and body for him!

#💌you’ve got mail #jake hangman seresin #charlie young #walt finn finnegan #fuck marry kill anon <33

[realbeefman]

Angus loyal follower here I love your posts I actually started reading hilson fic because of you even though I’ve never seen the show and I never will because once I heard Hugh lauries voice in a fancam and it was so unsexy also they filmed a lot of b roll at my school anyway Seeing your destiel post was so surprising to me please tell me more about your spn opinions I’m so curious I love discourse <3

very long answer so i’ve hidden it under a readmore for the sanity of casual dash scrollers and people who dont care

first off his american voice or his british voice? this is kind of controversial and may seem wild considering i spend a solid chunk of time thinking about what house would be like during sex but i ACTUALLY find him deeply unattractive. i’d love to have his face and wear his skin but never in my life would i consider him a sexual being. he’s too british for it. the only way british people can be sexy is if they are women this is my most political belief on foreign policy. however i do think hugh laurie’s AMERICAN voice is actually very normal and makes him very endearing to me. hilson fic is awesome but honestly!!! most hilson fic for me just does not hit the same unless u can visualize the creepiness with which house looks at wilson. it’s genuinely sickening. he talks about wilson in the softest voice. so many of the most iconic lines in the show just dont HIT the same if u dont listen to the way they’re delivered.

that is SO cool that they shot b roll at ur school though!!! honestly seems like a dream. if i knew i had walked the same halls the house film team had i think i would die. the camerawork on that show is just fucking PHENOMENAL. i could write entire essays fangirling over how they shoot certain scenes but i fear that would be chronically desperately boring

oh man my supernatural opinions… first off disclaimer i have not seen supernatural recently because i am a deeply paranoid individual and prone to delusions and when i first watched the show i genuinely convinced myself that the monsters were real so. i think my most controversial spn opinion would have to be that it’s a PSYCHOLOGICAL THREAT. have you ever met a normal supernatural fan? NOBODY HAS. BECAUSE THE SHOW DRIVES PEOPLE NUTS

other than that my opinions are pretty normal i thiunk. i actually dont have anything at all against destiel even though i am solidly on the wincestie side of fandom. i dont care for the ship and i think it sucks but OBJECTIVELY its a good ship and has strong canon support. i think my hatred comes because i have read SO many destiel fics and have yet to come across a genuinely good one that accurately portrays the characters. i dont understand why an objectively reasonable ship with strong canon support has created some of the middest fic ive ever read in my life. genuinely fascinating. it’s not even that the fic itself is not good or entertaining it just doesn’t feel anything like the actual canon dean and castiel! i have read like two genuinely entertaining destiel fics that felt realistic and BOTH were from authors who primarily write samdean so!!

other controversial spn opinions i have. the “chuck is god” stuff is by far the most entertaining late seasons retcon. objectively ridiculous but so goddamn amusing. i think season 8 and the leviathans was the peak of supernatural. by far the best season in my opinion. plotwise it was not the most believable but i strongly believe that what makes a story good is not it’s logical soundness nor it’s objective value but whether it is ENTERTAINING and COMPELLING and by god the leviathans were both of those things. what a season. also benny and dean were having sex. i loved castiel going insane. OH and i think endverse spn is overhyped both as an episode and in fanon! i did not understand what endverse referred to for so long because i couldnt comprehend that SO MANY PEOPLE could possibly by THAT fanatic over a very mid episode.

not a controversial opinion but rowena is hot. she should've been in every episode for this reason alone. last semester i set up an office meeting with my professor who looked JUST like her to shoot my shot and she literally died before the meeting could happen. i've always felt in my heart that these are related.

#ty for the ask dearest!! much to chew on and think about #house md #supernatural #ask #cw incest mention

[finniestoncrane]

(Ednyxmatic here. Curse the limitations of sideblogs.)

Yooo! Congrats on the 1k. I love your headcanons and fics. You totally deserve the 1k. :3c

If you feel so inspired to write something, could I ask for number 9?

Here is a bit about me 😅 :

I’m 5 feet 3 inches and blonde with long hair. I have glasses very similar to the style that Daniel Jackson wears on Stargate: SG-1. I’m grey ace and look feminine, but I am somewhere under the non-binary umbrella.

For my personality traits, uh, well, I have two anxiety disorders, lol. Specifically social anxiety and generalized anxiety. I definitely try to be social when I can, /but/ it can be difficult. I’m definitely a hopeless romantic, often to a fault. I could best be described as … indoorsy. I like reading, writing, occasionally drawing, and watching movies. In particular I’m a pretty huge horror movie fan. I also very much enjoy movies from the 30s-50s, particularly film noir.

I also enjoy houseplants and love reptiles. I actually own two lizards. :D

I got an English lit degree and my job involves copy editing and writing, so analyzing writing and such is a big part of my personal and professional life.

Thank you very much for reading this! And no problem if you don’t get a chance to respond!

🎀 No.9: Ever Fallen In Love With Someone 🎀

tell me a little bit about yourself and i'll give you a rogue pairing a/n: i literally read this and was like "him" for serious u-u 1k milestone info! 🔞minors dni🔞 • kofi • tag: finnie1k

quick sidenote: had no idea who daniel jackson was, never seen a lick of stargate, will now be binging it because james spader in those glasses has me REELING

ok so, non-binary works so well for harvey. you can be everything, you can be nothing, it works for him because while there is no absolute, the absence of something is the presence of something

he's also more focused on a relationship that brings something to the table, something he can work with. the same kind of partnership (although on slightly better terms hopefully) as he has with two face

i'm not making light in the slightest but hey, it's the perfect number of anxiety disorders to have. and he'd be more than happy to do the talking for you in social situations, both of them would be

he'd also understand the need to will yourself to be social, it's easy for him to shut himself away, with the only person he can speak to being himself, so it would be good for you both to encourage each other

hopeless romantic? now we're talking. because i think harvey is one of the softest, most romantic boys out there. really traditionally woos people, charms them and romances them like he was in some terribly dramatic old movie

which speaking of, he is definitely a massive fan of film noir, so that would make an excellent date for you both, either at a film festival or watching them on the sofa

creativity, especially indoorsy creativity, would suit him. someone who is grounded in themselves and can work away quietly would be a nice calming presence. he's a house person really, you don't see him striving to get out and about unless he has crimes to commit, so having someone else kicking around the place with him would be nice

please, stop with the twos! you have two lizards? perfect. one is harvey's favourite now and the other is two face's favourite. i don't know much about them, but the spicier of the two, guess who's favourite that one is...

gosh you've got intelligence in scores, and that's so key. i think harvey's intelligence is often overlooked, his temper and attitude sometimes overshadow it. but the man was a DA, he passed the bar. so someone on an intellectual equal with him, especially in something as interesting for him as copy editing, would make the perfect partner

#finnie1k #finnie writes

[faerune]

— OCS AS TRAGIC HORROR TROPES

Tagged by @jackiesarch​ and @dihardys​ to take this uquiz ! Thanks you two 🥰 Tagging: @solasan​, @prometheas​, @jendoe​, @queennymeria​, @chuckhansen​​, @aartyom​, @shadowglens​, @arborstone​, @faarkas​, @arklay​, @indorilnerevarine​, @leviiackrman​, @jillvalcntines​, @cptcassian​, @risingsh0t​,  @jennystahl​​ and anyone else who would like to!

THE WEREWOLF

there's something inside a werewolf that's sharp, thorns and barbs coiling up in tight knots of vine even on their best days. halfway through a conversation, you'll forget your happiness and the pain comes back in a flash. you never meant to, but the sharpness has done harm on your behalf. it's defensive. it's leftover artillery from a battle you spent so long fighting that it still doesn't feel like it's truly over, does it? you want so badly to be soft. to take the hand that you are offered instead of baring your teeth. and it might be hard to believe, but you are soft. you're the softest one out there. it'll just take a while to untangle those vines enough to know that very little is often life-or-death, and not everything touches to hurt.

THE HARBINGER

the harbingers have been through fire. you've got the scars to show for it. some people say harbingers are jaded- scary, even, to people who don't understand that the harbinger has seen the edge of the world and survived it. but being the harbinger means you're cursed to watch younger, brighter eyes fall for the same traps you did. trying to help isn't enough for you; you know what they're getting themselves into, and you want to protect them the way no one ever protected you, so why won't they just listen? it's frustrating. it's terrifying. no one should have to live through what you did, and i hope you know that you can't protect everyone but it's damn noble of you to try. it's not your job to save the world but i hope you know you've already made a difference to everyone who has taken your words to heart.

THE ONE WHO OPENED THE DOOR

you turn the door handle. you call out, "who's there?" and the crowd has the audacity to groan, to get frustrated with you. as if the gift of hindsight was something you had. how the hell were you supposed to know you were born into a horror movie? no one bothered to tell you. say, if instead this was an action film, or a fantasy, would they still be telling you how silly of a mistake it was to press further on your quest? they would've commended you for your bravery. you thought you were going to be saving a princess in a tower, not getting stabbed in the back by a killer in the shadows. how is that fair? it isn't, and none of that was ever your fault. it is not wrong to believe things are good. your trust, your optimism, it shouldn't ever be mistaken for ignorance or stupidity. we need more people who open doors. how else are any of us gonna move forward?

#ok all of these HURT JEEZ #emily got tagged #oc: vera #oc: tess #oc: argella

[darkenedreaper]

Heya I hope your doing good! ^^ I love your dating headcanons about Beth from the descent <3 can you maybe write the same with juno (like dating juno headcanons) ? I'm totally in love with her. If not than feel free to ignore this haha

I hope you have a good day/night! 💝

Pairing: Juno (The Descent) x Reader

Warnings: Fluff, implied smut

Dating Juno

To start off, Juno wants a long term and lasting relationship

As soon as she set eyes on you, she knew she wanted you to be the one she spent the rest of her life with

She calls herself cheesy

Juno is one of the softest girlfriends out there

She really wants to take you on every caving or outdoor adventure she has however if you dont want or can’t go with her, she’d much rather settle for doing something you enjoy

Tries to have date nights as frequently as possible

She loves spending most weekends away at her cabin with you

At the cabin late at night she pops a film on and bombards you with your favourite snacks

Practically orders you to cuddle her

She will also cuddle you, in fact she envelopes herself around you

Cuddles with Juno are the best; she’ll run her fingers through your hair and kiss your forehead

No seriously she kisses your lips or your forehead every 2 minutes

Juno wants and purposely make you feel like the whole world couldn’t get to you if it tried

She’s very big on PDA; holds your hand, links arms, affects in public

She loves cooking or you after a long day, even if she’s been out climbing all day she cooks you your favourite meal

Something Juno loves about you is your laugh, she loves hearing you laugh and it’s the best thing in the world when she knows the cause of your laughter is her

Loves you with all her heart and has pictures up of you two all over her cabin

Moving on to the smutty side; tehe

Have you seen the amount of energy this woman has??

Please she’ll have you up all night if you want her to, she’ll take you for a quickie if you feel like i

Sex with Juno varies; she can be real funny and goofy, other times she’ll romance and seduce you into a long night, other times she’ll want you wherever you are and other times she needs you… like n e e d s you

She can go for a long long time, she’ll even want more of you in the morning

Juno is really sweet and se doesn’t ever want to lose you, she doe everything she can to make you happy

Bonus:

Holly and Sam definitely tease her about how soft she is with you

Holly definitely complains about Juno not making her favourite food as well as yours

All the girls love you

Hope you enjoyed! I love The Descent

#The descent #the descent x reader #Horror #horror film #juno #juno Kaplan x reader #Juno the descent #Lgbtt #wlw

[lumiereandcogsworth]

Yeah I have a question I've been wondering for a long time. Who's your favorite fictional couple? Also, what's your favorite movie and why??? 🤔🤔🤔

*twirls hair* oh well if you insist!!!!!

my favorite fictional couple is adam and belle from beauty and the beast (2017), here are some visuals:

(kiss!) (dance!) (ball!) (nerds!)

they are huge nerds whose main interests include reading books (and then debating about them), going on long walks, traveling, riding horses, kissing, and dancing…..

they’re best friends. they’ve never really been seen, the way they see each other. they’ve never been able to be themselves, and they find that safety and understanding in each other. they love to challenge one another, they love to make the other laugh. they bicker and banter and exchange soft kisses and warm hugs. they’re THE softest couple in the world, but they’d just as equally go the the ends of the earth to protect the other. one listens when the other needs to be heard. one forgives when the other says something they didn’t mean. they talk and talk and talk way into the night and they fall asleep on each other’s shoulders.

they found each other when they had both lost all hope in any sort of bright future, and now they build one together :”)

as for the second question, well it’s beauty and the beast (2017), of course!!!

i love this movie so much. WHY? gosh. why does the sun rise every day. why is the sky blue. why do birds fly. BECAUSE THEY WERE MADE TO DO SO!!!!

i don’t know, i wish i knew exactly why i am so completely headass attached to this movie. it’s coming up on six years since the first time i saw it in theaters, having no idea that my life would completely change because of it. imagine you’re touring a university that you’ll actually end up attending, and you’re with your parents in the hotel and you’re bored and have an evening to kill. imagine you look up movies playing at the local theater and live action beauty and the beast is the only title that catches your eye. imagine everyone mutually shrugging and saying “sure.” NO ONE IN THE ROOM IS AWARE OF WHAT IS ABOUT TO HAPPEN LMAO

anyway, that movie just means everything to me. it’s just gorgeous. i certainly wasn’t as crazy then as i am now, this has very much been an exponential incline, but there was definitely an element of love at first sight that night. i can remember sitting in the theater and feeling like i was in another world, feeling the magic and the joy and the love. i remember loving seeing the prologue, actually seeing this awful prince. i remember watching be our guest and smiling so wide, it just kept getting bigger and bigger and more colorful and exciting and i could not stop smiling. i remember the enchanted atlas taking them to paris and feeling like a child as i watched the sparks shoot up into the sky as the camera lets you fly to paris like you’re with peter pan. i remember crying when the last petal fell and everyone died, i couldn’t believe they had taken it that far, because i remembered the animated one didn’t let that happen. i remember how joyful the ending felt, how my heart buzzed as i watched them all dance together, alive and happy and new. i remember sitting in the car on the drive home and i couldn’t stop thinking how amazing that was. “that was just so GOOD,” i kept saying to my parents. it touched my heart that night and that love has only, quite madly, grown.

this movie made me fall in love with period pieces, it made me fall in love with dancing, it made me fall in love with studying history. it makes me fall in love with it every single time i watch it again. this movie is home to me. it’s a warm blanket on a cold day, it’s a calm breeze on a summer afternoon. i cannot even begin to understand why this happened to me, but i’m so very glad it did. nothing has ever inspired me to write the way this movie has. each one of my thousands upon thousands of words are part of a continued love letter to this silly film. this beautiful wonderful imperfect perfect movie. it dazzles and shines in my heart, and i’m so utterly thankful for it.

#what if i just *bursts into tears* #sobs. you ask me why i love my wife???? BECAUSE SHE’S MY WIFE😭😭😭 #gosh i love not being normal about it 🥹 #thank you for asking i love i love i love i love #batb 2017 #about me #freakwiththeknifecollection #answered