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gutterfuuck · 1 day

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“ROI—“

more bff!mark for my baby girls out there, i am watching and lurking when you least expect. the title is based on a song! it is the instrumental for roi. i do not have a specific reason, i just heard it while i was writing and hadn’t a title ready. i saw the phrase “sandbox love never dies” on another work, credit is due there for that!

cw: mdni!, dubcon-ish(? not sure how to describe, haha), smut, mark is pining hard for reader, possibly hint of yandere, this one is kind of long, bff!mark, piv, childhood friends to lovers trope, mark is a little delulu if u squint, virgin!mark (implied), semi-dark content please be aware, reader and mark are in college, reader knows that mark is invincible but that isn’t really important to the story.

mark knew this bedroom all too well. how couldn’t he? you both basically grew up in there together. you were always over at his house, he was always over at yours. inseparable ever since the day he had moved in across from you, sandbox love never dies.

his eyes landed on the fairy lights that were stapled to the wall to keep them in place… he had done that, years ago. he couldn’t bare to see the look of disappointment on your face when you realised that they hadn’t come with a sticky back so you could have them up on your wall. he still remembered the way your eyes lit up when he returned to your home with a stapler in hand, being careful not to staple through the wire. mark’s heart fluttered when he saw your little collection of cereal box figurines; also his doing. he couldn’t believe that you had held onto his gifts for so long, let alone display them proudly as if they were medals. to you, they might as well as be.

“you okay?” you asked, snapping him out of whatever dreamy trance he was in. he snapped his head around back to the tv, the ending credits of the zombie movie rolling on the screen. you had noticed how he had been staring into space for the last half hour of your movie, “me? yeah- i’m good, just thinking about something.” he smiled, quickly rummaging around on the floor to pick up the last of the movie cases, your marathon nearing its end. you were both back in town for the weekend, college kicking you both down and your dorm rooms not homey enough for it to feel right, so you had decided to drop in for a couple of days, killing two birds with one stone and seeing both mark’s parents and yours in one trip. your parents would be coming back later, that’s when the barbecue would come out.

mark switched the disk for the unwatched one, the movie menu popping up shortly after with a blood splatter animation on the title screen, “no don’t play it yet! we gotta refill here.” you spoke, pointing down at the almost empty bowl of chips, save for a few crumbs at the bottom. you had even ran out of cookies, remembering how mark had said that they should stop calling them family size if they were only able to feed two people in the span of an hour or two. you retorted with something about how usually people had self control; you weren’t supposed to scoff down three packs of family value cookies. ever.

“you gonna leave me here, all on my own? out in the open like this? i’m a sitting duck out here.” he joked, a satisfied warmth washing over him as soon as you had laughed. he loved your laugh, always. for as long as he could remember, “like anyone would come attack my house while you’re here, mark.” you rolled your eyes, his heart skipped a beat. he knew how much you relied on him to keep you safe sometimes. already knew that you’d know who to call if you were ever in any danger. he fed on it. you picked up the empty bowls, stacking them inside one another and opening your bedroom door.

“d’you want anything from downstairs?” you asked, holding an empty bottle of pop under your arm, hands preoccupied. mark shook his head, getting up to open your door wider for you, “i think i’ll just stick to eating all of this junk you keep throwing at me.” mark smiled, you smiled. mark’s heart ached.

“don’t you dare press play on that movie, mark grayson!” you yelled from downstairs, just missing the way mark’s cheeks dusted pink at the sound of his name on your tongue. you sounded like an angel. mark’s attention turned to your dresser, the top drawer full of your underwear. how did he know? well, he was the reason for your declining pairs of underwear, the source of the disappearing panties act that you had just brushed off as being forgetful or losing them somehow. he got up, face turning beet red as he stepped towards the drawer, fingers shakily reaching for the handle, slowly, slowly-

“are you going through my stuff?” shit. shit.

you had caught him, after all this time you had caught him. his mind raced for an excuse, his heart threatened to give up on him and he hoped that he would just have a heart attack already, quickly, he had to say something. anything, anything- “i’m kidding! if you’re looking for the remote, you already left it on the bed, silly!”

thank god. thank god.

“right, y-yeah! ha, i must’ve- forgotten..” he laughed nervously, heart still racing in his chest. all he could do was try to steady himself, calm his shaking hands and retreat back to his original seat, on your bed, next to you. he couldn’t stop his mind from wandering, couldn’t stop thinking about how he could’ve had you right there if you had actually caught him, couldn’t stop thinking about holding your hands above your head and covering your mouth with his palm, ‘please let me, you don’t understand- just the tip and i’ll be done i swear.. just let me make you take me.’— he was daydreaming again, it was all your fault. he wanted you so badly, so desperately, why couldn’t you see it? why couldn’t you see him?

mark stared blankly at the tv screen with his jaw clenched, looking right through the screen. if he hadn’t had seen this movie dozens of times before with william, he would’ve been missing it. it was as if he was sleeping while sitting up with his eyes open, idle and dormant…

he heard you scream, his body shifting to shield you on instinct, breaking him out of whatever trance he had put himself in. you had thrown your arms over him, eyes squeezed shut. he was ready to fight, but fizzled down when he realised that you had only jumped into his arms for safety because of a jumpscare. a jumpscare. you were pressed up against him, you had almost jumped into his lap. it was like you were doing it on purpose, torturing him just because you could. you clung to him tighter, eyes glued to the screen in fear and anticipation for the next bloody scene…

fuck. he could feel his cock twitching in his jeans, straining against his boxers. leaking, weeping for you, his best friend. he was frozen, his eyebrows furrowed and bottom lip pulled into his mouth with his teeth so hard that he thought he would make himself bleed- bleed for you-because you were clinging onto him like you needed him. he needed you. he couldn’t help it anymore. it was now or never, here or nowhere.

“m’sorry-“ he said quietly and you turned to him, eyes staring up into his. that sent him over the edge. before you could ask him what he was apologising for, you were on your back, mark leaning over your body, a hungriness in his deep brown orbs. you had forgotten how fast he was, his powers completely slipping your mind. that was just it, you never cared. you always stuck with him, even after he had told you about his father’s secret roots all those years ago after he had just found out. he couldn’t wait to tell you, he always knew that you’d still see him the same, believe his words even if he lied-

“y/n, please- just let me talk, please just hear me out..!” he sounded different, shaky, almost scared to speak to you as if you were the one with superpowers holding him down. you weren’t scared, of course you weren’t. you looked into his eyes, concern washing over you as you watched your best friend open and close his mouth again, trying to find his words, “i.. i don’t- look, i…” more silence followed, tears brimmed in the corners of mark’s eyes and landed on your face, his gaze refusing to meet yours once again. you wanted to wipe his eyes, get to the bottom of why he was so upset… oh. oh. that was it, huh?

“mark-“ you interrupted, propping yourself up on your elbows to get closer to his face, closer so you could wipe his eyes-

mark panicked, he wasn’t ready for your rejection. wasn’t ready to hear you tell him that you had a boyfriend or that you couldn’t, didn’t want to hear you tell him that he was just like a brother to you, you couldn’t like him back because you were only best friends. he leaned forward, hands on your cheeks, lips crashing against your own. “mmf-!” you tried to move, his grip only tightening the more you tried to pull away, your hands on his wrists tightly. so this was how it was going to have to go, right? he’d dreamed of this for so long, it was so perfect. you were perfect.

“mark-!” you finally yelled, pushing him away by his shoulders. he could feel a dark pit starting to form inside of his stomach, regret washing over him, wishing that the pit would open up enough to swallow him too… “let me just breathe for a second..!” you huffed, locking eyes with him. your eyes never left his, mark’s eyes would try to flicker away from yours.

to him, it was a miracle. to you, it was a confession. it was years and years of bottled up feelings drowning you both all at once, it was confirmation.

you didn’t hesitate, hands snaking into his hair and pulling him back into a sweet kiss, your legs wrapping around his waist as he gasped shakily, a sweet nervousness behind his reciprocation. fireworks shot off in his brain, opening his mouth slowly only to be met with the intrusion of your tongue first, licking up against his as you held him tighter, pulling him closer, devouring him whole. god, you were going to kill him. are you going to kill him? give him a heart attack right here, right now? he thought so, hands aimlessly wondering under your shirt with his hips bucking into you with a groan rumbling from his throat, you whining back when his thumbs brushed against your nipples, your hips rocking against his. “w-wan’ you so b-bad-“ he spoke in between kisses, desperately trying to shove his tongue back down your throat straight after. you moved your hands to the hem of your skirt, shuffling out of it and kicking it off the end of your foot and onto the floor. this was hot, hungry. your hands pulled at his sweater, attempting to pull it over his head. he paused, sad to leave your lips once more, to take off his sweater and discard it into a random corner. “y/n, wanna- can i.. please- just the t-tip, only wanna feel it..- please let me, i’ll be quick, p-promise-“ you shut him up with a deep kiss, arms wrapped around his neck, “..i want all of it, mark. i can take you.” and mark almost cums in his jeans right there, nodding lazily and sliding his hand between your bodies to fiddle with the button and fly of his jeans, mentally congratulating himself for not just messily tugging them past his hips. he wasn’t alone with your panties jerking off next to you in your bed while you slept anymore- no- he had time. he could take it slow.

you couldn’t help but moan when you caught sight of his cock, heavy and thick and leaking between his legs, aching for you. who would’ve guessed? your best friend was packing. mark rolled onto his back, pulling you on top of him so you were straddling his waist, hands pressed on chest. to him, all you had ever done was look down on him, even if you had never intended so. for once, you really were looking down on him, but he was in control. he wanted to be in control, he should have been in control. and with that, the position shifted once more.

mark’s thumbs separated your gooey folds after pulling your panties to the side, he recognised that pair, he had planned on taking them one night. a pair of red lace panties, simple but permanent in his brain. he knew your cunt all too well, the nights where you would need help to stumble back to your dorm drunk when he would tower over your clothed body, flipping up your dress and lick your cunt until he busted against your bedsheets, he could always dismiss it as a yoghurt stain or something if you had ever asked.

mark grabbed you by the thighs, pulling you closer so your cunt was in perfect line of his fat dick, swiping the head up your slit and shivering when you moaned quietly because of the contact to your clit. this was so surreal, he was living in a dream and he never wanted to wake up. you both hissed when he caught his tip on your hole, eyes meeting once more before he let himself go, hands gripping your hips as he pressed into his your warm, wet pussy. you were going to take all of him. “fuuck..! mnh-“ you almost screamed, trying to adjust to his length. mark didn’t care. neither did you. his cock bullied its way into your tight walls, mark whispered small apologies into your ear as you whined at him, slowly gyrating your hips to try and almost run from the stretch, to give yourself a minute to adjust again, “don’t do that- you don’t have to do anything-“ he started, his warm breath fanning over your neck which caused goosebumps on your skin, “you don’t have to do anything other than lay here.. stay still n’ take my cock.” his words made you tremble, you tried to protest, his mouth blocking your words with a kiss, his dick pressing right up against your cervix with a harsh thrust of his hips, gummy gooey walls clenching down on him, a low “ohhh, ohh f-fu..ck-!” rumbling against your lips.

one thrust and he was immediately pussydrunk, your mouth hanging open and tongue poking out when he drew his hips back, slamming them back into you with uneven, inexperienced movements. he fucked like a rabid dog, his nails digging into your skin as he babbled above you,

“d-do you feel full? can’t push any deeper..” followed by a pressure on your stomach, his hand pressing down so he could feel himself thrusting through your body,

“ghnn..- y/n you feel so much b-better than my fleshlight-!” did he even know what he was saying? your walls tightened around him, the wind being knocked out of your lungs again when he pressed harder, lips working against yours, his vision blanking and ears ringing when you didn’t stop tightening and loosening on him, mushy cunt trying to milk him dry.

you couldn’t do anything but moan breathlessly, pushing the hair falling into his face back, his jaw clenched and forehead sweaty, pressing his head against yours. this was it, this was everything his life had been building up to until now. he thought that maybe he had subconsciously made you fall for him, all of the times he had touched you secretly conditioning your brain. he doubted it, but the idea of him and him only reworking your mind to love him made him keen. “yeah, tha’s right.. take it, c’monnn..” he babbled, his eyelashes wet with tears, not knowing or caring whether they were happy tears or the result of his pleasure. you were right on the edge, your moans getting louder and shorter, scrambling to let mark, your best friend, know that you were going to spray all over his pelvis. you’d squirted before but this felt.. different. warmer, hotter. “c-c-!..” you struggled, eyes crossing and back bowing off of the bed, “fffuck-! ghfuckk yeah..- y-you’re cummin-“ he held your hand, hips stuttering when he felt your tight pussy starting to flutter, the tight coil in your stomach finally snapping;

warmth flooded your insides, legs twitching when you gushed all over yourself and mark. if you weren’t planning on changing your sheets after this, you definitely had to now. white ropes were out of mark’s cockhead riiiight against your cervix, breeding your cunt as if he had no control over himself, which he didn’t. you both panted, trying to balance your breathing. you felt his hips pull back, cock pulling out and opening the floodgates for thick globs of cum to pour out of you, your best friend rolling onto his back and covering his eyes with his forearm, mouth open as he breathed. he was in a daze, completely out of it, both of your liquids stuck to mark’s flaccid dick.

“did you get it out of your system yet?” your voice always bought him back. it was always you, it had always been you. “i… really want to be with you. i wanted- i want you, y/n.” mark spoke sternly, finally being able to complete his sentence from earlier. “i think i could gather that.” you retorted with a laugh. your laugh, his favourite.

you locked eyes, dark murky brown pools staring directly into yours. his pinkie finger hooked around yours, laughter bubbling from both of you. the fairy lights shined in his peripheral vision. the movie’s credits rolled on the screen, the whole movie falling on deaf, horny ears.

it was quiet, the only sounds being of yours and mark’s breathing. this was nice, blissful. peaceful.

“i love you, mark grayson.”

#mark grayson #mark grayson x reader #invincible #dark blog #mark grayson smut #fem reader #invincible smut #invincible x reader #bff!mark grayson #smut

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kaleidoscopek9 · 2 years

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The goodest boy ✨

#this movie is such a staple of my childhood #watched it again last night after who knows how many years #still my favorite non-Disney animated film #Balto #balto movie #k9's art cart #digital art #procreate #fanart

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supermarvelgirl15 · 3 months

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Finally mustered the courage to watch How to Train Your Dragon: The Hidden World after all these years

#i sobbed #httyd was the first movie i ever saw in theaters #i loved dragons ever since #toothless 🥹🫶🏼#big staple of my childhood/life #how to train your dragon #httyd #how to train you dragon: the hidden world #httyd thw #toothless #hiccup haddock #my life

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fawnarchive · 6 months

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all the vanessa love from the fnaf movie you LOVE to see it thats my girl right there. white woman jumpscare or not vanessa a i love you forever

#fawn.txt #ofc no spoilers #but i liked it a lot #i know my like 6/7 year old self would be jumping for joy...#i remember seeing fnaf for the first time #because my classmates were playing it on their ipad during recess.. and i REALLY wanted to try and they let me #and i genuinely have kept following it since #i keep quiet about my interest in it because i Forget To Mention It Really #fnaf is in my brain such a staple of childhood. its like saying 'oh i also know spongebob'#FASHK.. either way. the movie was good. heart emoji

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hope-i-dont-choke · 1 year

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Anyone else remember that fucking leprechaun movie on Disney channel that was about basketball and this kid plays against his leprechaun arch enemy and wins but the guy is like ‘per the terms of our agreement you lost because you pronounced this word wrong’ and the kids just like “my fathers from Cleveland” and the bad guys face drops and he shrinks to like an inch tall? They don’t make em this wild anymore

#luck of the irish #this movie had everything #potato chips #family secrets #weird metaphor for puberty #mysterious mischievous grandpa #for some reason they sang this land was made for you and me #it made no sense #its a staple of my childhood

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keykidpilipili · 1 year

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We have had Oceans Rise/pirates, Over Industrialization/1984 Surveillance State and Extreme Forest/Ecoterrorism the dimensions!

Now get ready for Ice Age Western!

#sonic prime theory #sonic prime #sonic prime spoilers #sonic series #Sonic gets to snowboard and Shadow gets a gun truly the best of both wolds #Polar Desertification the natural disaster #like that movie i never watched but the cover is the statue of Liberty with tons of ice on it #Klondike Scrooge adventures by Don Rosa were one of my childhood staples

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super-lupus · 1 year

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Idk what chemical is released in Dwayne Johnson's brain whenever he signs a contract to be in a kids movie that suddenly makes him a good actor but if I could bottle that shit I'd be a millionaire

#dwayne johnson #the rock #dwayne the rock johnson #this is not a dwayne johnson hate post #its actually a dwayne johnson appreciation post #i love the guy #he was incredible in wwe #but he cannot act UNLESS its in a kids movie #the game plan #moana #i watch the game plan at least three times a year #when he sings are you lonesome to his daughter 🥺#and that 'youre welcome' song from moana is also so comforting to me idk why #i love dwayne the rock johnson hes a staple of my childhood #but he should only ever be in kids movies

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termonitu · 1 year

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I've been rewatching Markipliers series on fnaf 1, back then I would hide in the comments afraid of jump scares. Now its 9 years later and I'm watching those same videos happy every time a jump scare pops up.

This game will always be a staple of my childhood (even if it wasn't originally made for kids) and I physically can't wait for the movie to come out.

#fnaf #fnaf fanart #fnaf 1 bonnie #digital fanart #digital art #I'm feeling way too nostalgic rn #I really hope the movie doesn't flop #my art

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alloftheimagines · 1 year

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jamie tartt | if somebody hurts you, i wanna fight

MASTERLIST | TAGLIST

words: 2.2k

warnings: 18+

domestic abuse, violence, trauma, the aftermath of an abusive relationship in which jamie finds out your boyfriend, his teammate, is abusing you. takes place when he's playing for manchester city.

prompt: Hey there! I would love to send a prompt request in for Jamie tartt:) number 29, I don’t know why but to me it fits him well! Nothing specific, thank you! 🥰

Jamie sees the bruises and knows. He’s never had a good feeling about your relationship with Tom, his teammate, but you’ve ignored his warnings despite being friends since childhood.

And now you’re hiding bruises. Anger flares in him, and it’s an effort not to reach out as you get up from the couch to grab popcorn, the staple of any movie night. He thought it strange you turned up on his doorstep after months of barely seeing you, but now he thinks he understands. Your T-shirt rode up for only a moment at your hip before you tugged it down, but he saw the purple welt. His jaw ticks as he listens to you shuffle about, but he can only wait so long. Fingers flexing at his side, he heads in to hear popcorn popping in the microwave.

“Do you want a beer?” you ask, oblivious. When he doesn’t reply, your brows furrow and you look up from the kitchen counter. “What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Has he been hurting you?” he questions steadily.

“What?” You’re a terrible actor, but you try nonetheless, eyes widening in feigned confusion.

Jamie takes a deep breath. “Don’t lie to me. I saw the bruises just now. There’s only reason why you wouldn’t tell me about them.”

It makes him sick as he realises the truth of those words; you’d hide it because you know Jamie would react badly, perhaps even sacrificing his spot on the team. Tom’s more popular with the fans, Man City’s star player. If Jamie confronted him… He knew it would be game over. That’s why you’d kept your distance.

And yet he still wanted to. He was already imagining it, shoving Tom against the lockers and beating him the way he’d beaten you. He’d teach him a lesson; nobody would ever hurt you again.

He wouldn’t let them.

You pale, tugging at the hem of your shirt again self-consciously. “I fell.”

Jamie shakes his head, barely even listening now. Lost to his fury. “I’ll teach that wanker a lesson. I’ll fucking kill ‘im. I knew he was trouble. I knew he was no fucking good for you—”

“Jamie, please.” You grab his arm, eyes flooding with tears as you look at him. It’s enough for him to halt, still glaring. “Don’t. Please. I’m handling it.”

“Are you still with ‘im?”

You hesitate at that, a look of shame darkening your features.

“Then you’re not fucking handling it,” he snaps.

“He won’t let me leave,” you whisper, chin wobbling. “I tried. That’s why he… I tried.”

His shoulders heaved with a sigh, but he softened, sympathy swirling in his eyes. “I can help you, love. You should have told me. You used to tell me everythin’.”

Tears slip down your cheeks as he cups your jaw, catching them.

“Hey,” he breathes gently. “It’s okay. You’re safe ‘ere. You know that, don’t you?”

A nod. He pulls you into his chest, and you wrap your arms around him, shuddering as it all comes spilling out. “I’m sorry. I thought he loved me. The first time… He was drunk. I thought he was just drunk. But then he kept… I’m just sorry.”

“No need to apologise, babe.” He plants a kiss in your hair. The microwave dings, the last remaining kernels popping behind the glass, but neither of you move to get it. “It’s not your fault. It’s never your fault.” He closes his eyes, pain searing through him. He can’t bare to think of you hurting like this. He should have realised sooner. Should have known. “How long’s it been going on?”

“A couple of months.”

Too long, then. It’s always going to be too long. “Stay ‘ere with me, yeah?” he asks. “He won’t get to you ‘ere.”

“I don’t want you involved in this—”

“You’re my best fucking friend, and I’m not letting him do this to you again. Never.” He pulls away and forces you to meet his gaze. “He won’t fuckin’ touch you again.”

“I’m begging you. Don’t confront him. Don’t do anything to risk your career. Please. Please promise me.”

His nostrils flare, but he nods. It isn’t quite a promise, though — not one he’s willing to keep, at least.

***

He does his best. He survives practices with the fucker all week while you hide away in his house, rarely getting out of your pyjamas. He has to force you to eat most nights, though you always have a home-cooked meal on the table. He can’t enjoy them, too busy wondering if it’s a forced habit — if maybe you were punished if you didn’t have dinner waiting for Tom.

And then Tom struts into the locker room before a Sunday match in Man City’s home stadium, his gaze already narrowed on Jamie. Wordlessly, he nudges past the other players, and the hair on the back of Jamie’s back prickles as he stops lacing his boot to look up at him.

“I bet you think you’re a right hero, eh?” Tom sneers. “Hiding her away from me. What’d she tell you?”

Jamie’s knuckles whiten, entire body tensing, but then he thinks of his promise to you. “You dunno what you’re talking about, mate,” he replies stiffly, drawing his lace tight.

Tom scoffs. “I know you’re the first person she’d run to.”

This time, Jamie bites, standing up to match his eye level and squaring his shoulders. “And you hate that, don’t you? It must make your fuckin' blood boil. Does it make you feel good, being an abusive twat, or are you that far gone that you don’t care either way?”

Tom slams Jamie’s locker shut, the picture of aggression. Jamie thinks of you facing him, alone in his big old house where no one is there to step in. He thinks of the way you must have flinched at that scorn, and resolves not to on your behalf. He might be breaking one promise, but he’ll keep another: Tom’ll never touch you again.

“You gonna beat me up as well?” he asks, and that anger he’d been suppressing so well is bubbling now; he’s a volcano ready to erupt.

“Oi!” The team manager steps in, drawing everyone’s attention. “We’ve got a job to do today. Whatever the issue is, you save it ‘til later. Am I clear?”

Jamie doesn’t back down, his eyes flaring with dangerous defiance. Tom is the first to nod, but not before offering a smarmy smirk — as though he’s won. “Yes, boss.”

“Jamie?”

“Yeah,” Jamie mutters finally — for you, he thinks. Anything for you.

It doesn’t stop there, though. Tom carries his bitterness onto the pitch, ignoring Jamie through the game so that he’s never passed the ball, never able to score. He’s tackled him more than a few times as though they’re on different teams, and Jamie knows then that he can’t play this game anymore. He won’t. He’ll quit on Monday, find another club to sign him. Maybe even grovel to Ted and go back to Richmond. Anything to get you both out of this.

He tries to be the bigger man, but he’s never been any good at it, so when Tom trips him in another fight for the ball, Jamie can’t do it anymore. His vision blurs into angry red lines as he stands, shins throbbing from the fall, and fists Tom’s sweaty shirt in his hands.

“Someone needs to put you in your fucking place,” he spits, and when Tom only grins again, he launches. His fist meets Tom’s hard jaw, and pain flashes through Jamie’s knuckles. Tom sniffs, spits, and the crowd in the stadium falls quiet enough to hear a pin drop. And then Tom lunges back, and Jamie feels the blow through every bone in his body.

It doesn’t stop him from punching him again. “See how you fuckin’ like it!” he’s screaming, again and again and again, all scrambling limbs and fierce hits between them. His knuckles and mouth turn bloody, and so do Tom's. Finally, they’re yanked away from one another.

Even as Jamie is pulled off the pitch, he’s bellowing across the field: “You’re nothing, you! A piece of fucking shit!”

“And who are you?” Tom calls. “Her knight in shining armour? You’re useless. You’re nobody!”

Jamie’s heard that more than a few times now. He no longer sees Tom’s face, but his own father’s. That’s why he couldn’t let this go, he realises. He could never stand up to his own bully, so he’s stood up to yours instead.

Spitting blood from his mouth, he leaves the pitch — knowing it might be for the last time. Knowing that if it is, it was worth it.

You saw it all on TV, and you’ve been waiting for the door to swing open ever since. Finally, it does — and you don’t even know what to say. Jamie’s mouth is swollen and his nose bloody, and you want to shout at him for being so stupid, for doing the one thing you asked him not to — in front of everyone. But in the end, you can only sigh, wiping the tears from your eyes.

“I know I fucked it up,” he rasps. “Maybe I should be sorry, but'm not. He fuckin’ deserved it.”

“And what about your job?” you ask, crossing your arms over your chest. You still wear your pyjamas, too afraid to go home and get fresh clothes. Too depressed to even try.

Jamie shrugs, throwing down his bag. “Don’t know yet. Doesn’t matter. I’m not playing on the same team as a dickhead like that.”

“But where will you play now?” Panic rises in you as you think about this means. You’ve never known Jamie without football, and to imagine him losing it now, because of you… It’s almost worse than what Tom did to you, maybe because you care more about your best friend than you ever could yourself. It’s wrong, but it’s true.

“I dunno. It doesn’t matter.” He sniffs, and you sigh, softening as you move towards him to examine his injuries.

Without a word, you head into the kitchen to wrap some ice in a towel. He follows slowly, sluggishly, as though he has no fight left in him. He used it all on the pitch. A stadium of fucking people. God, you’re angry. With Tom, with Jamie, with everyone. You shove the ice pack into his chest, blood pumping in your ears.

“It fucking matters,” you snap. “This is your life. I asked you not to ruin it because of me—”

“My life was ruined the minute you started dating that fucking prick!” he shouts.

You frown, confused. “What?” Your voice trembles.

Jamie purses his lip, shaking his head as he presses the ice to his bruised jaw. “Forget it. I did what I needed to. It wasn’t just for you, either. You’re not the only one who’s been bullied before. I’m sick of pushing it aside. Sick of 'em getting away with it. I can’t fight back for myself, but I can at least do it for you.”

You understand then. His dad. Tears sting your eyes. “Jamie…” You make to reach out, but he draws back as though your touch is venom. It hurts. You stumble back, feeling heavy and wrong. This is your fault. All of it.

“I shouldn’t have come to you. I shouldn’t have put you in this position," you say.

“Stop it. I told you it isn’t your fault.”

“It is.” You close your eyes, cheeks growing damp.

“Babe…” He’s there in a heartbeat, cupping your face with bloody hands. “Don’t. Please, don’t. Just look at me a minute.”

You do.

“I don’t give a shit about what this means for me. I don’t care if I’m never signed again. I only care that you’re safe. The dick was taunting me, and everyone will see that, but either way… you’re what matters. Nothin’ else.”

You can’t speak, your throat thick with emotion.

“I know you didn’t tell me because you knew this would happen, but I need you to understand that it’s happened because I love you. Because I always have and I always will. And if somebody hurts you, I’m not letting them get away with it.

“I shouldn’t have lost my temper like that. I know that. I don’t wanna be like ‘im, I don’t want you to see me like that. But I wasn’t going to let him keep doing it. Not to me or to you.”

You hate it. Of course you do. But you love him, and you know that if the roles were reversed, you’d choose him over anything. You know that this wasn’t an act of violence, but of love and pent-up anger.

“You’re not like him,” you say gently. “You could never be like him.”

He kisses your forehead, and your eyes flutter shut again as you lean into him.

“You’re worth it,” he whispers. “You’re worth all of it. I just wish I could’ve been there for you sooner.”

You tuck yourself into his chest as he squeezes you tightly, smelling of grass and sweat and dirt. You haven’t felt safe in a long time. You haven’t felt loved in a long time, either. “You’re here now,” you say.

He nods, chin brushing the crown of your head. “‘S gonna be okay now. I’ve got you.”

You finally believe him.

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zepskies · 1 year

Text

Never Say Goodbye - Part 1

Pairing: Dean W. x Female Reader

Summary: The first time you and Dean sensed each other’s thoughts and feelings, you were just kids. It would take years to realize that you both were bonded for life, and even longer to finally meet. [Soulmate AU] (Rated M for eventual scenes – 18+)

Word Count: 2,000 Warnings: Some angst

Part 1: Proximity

You’ve grown up watching your parents. At fourteen, you already understood how rare their relationship was—high school sweethearts, married for sixteen years, and certified soulmates.

Apparently it was even more rare to find your soulmate so early in life, but as Mom said, Sometimes the universe helps you out.

But you just started high school, and after surveying the pool of guys you have to work with, you really hope that “universe” stuff is just wishful thinking.

Because just this morning, Danny Schmitt got his hand stuck in the automatic stapler during Math class. Meanwhile, his friends were collecting bets on how many stitches he was going to need once they finally pried his fingers out.

Dad would call those guys dumbasses. You were inclined to agree.

You looked away from the scene (there was a lot of blood, and now your teacher was trying to free Danny with the only tool in the utility closet: a large hammer). But you couldn’t focus on your busy work like your teacher instructed either.

Sometimes, you still found it hard to believe your parents had met in high school. They had such an easy way between them, and not just because they could hear one another’s thoughts.

Mom was a kindergarten teacher, patient, kind, and encouraging. She came from a family of professors and school administrators, who frankly thought she could’ve done more with her life than “wipe five year olds’ noses.” Last Thanksgiving, she smiled and told Great Aunt Janet, “At least my five year olds can wipe their own asses.”

Smirking, Dad had followed up with, “How’s the incontinence, Jan? Ain’t lettin’ up at all?”

Dad was a cop, though he wasn’t as strict as he could've been. Or as dumb as cops seemed to be in the movies.

No, your dad could be stern, but he was always fair, even if you…didn’t really hang out with him much. Mom was basically your best friend, while Dad was often too busy to know what was going on in your life.

Really, you just couldn’t see what your parents had in common, other than the dusty, midwestern town where they’d grown up. (Speaking of which, you shivered and zipped your coat higher up on your neck. Even indoors, winter in South Dakota was nothing to sneeze at.)

But your parents would share a look sometimes. Your mom would smile, and your dad’s mouth would quirk up at the corner, his eyes softening in a way they only did for her. And then you’d remember that they had their own world that you couldn’t really understand just yet.

“All right,” your teacher said. He wiped sweat from his brow while Danny’s friends carried him off to the nurse’s office. The stapler was in pieces on the floor, but poor Danny still had two huge staples in his index and ring fingers. “I think we’re done for the day. Just finish workbook pages for chapter three and we’ll cover it tomorrow.”

Yes! Math was not your strongest subject, but even you could finish four more square root problems. The teacher’s desk phone rang while you gathered your backpack and books. You were about to leave the classroom when your teacher called you back. You didn’t like the somber look on his face.

“You need to get to the principal’s office,” he said. “Your dad is there waiting for you.”

You didn’t know it then, but today was the day your childhood died—after Dad sat you down and told you what happened to your mom.

Winter in South Dakota was harsh. It could even be dangerous, especially on icy roads shared with grocery truck haulers.

They buried Mom in the same cemetery as your grandparents and your aunt (not Janet, by the way. You didn’t really remember your Aunt Karen, but your dad always avoided talking about his sister). The cemetery was small, but you guessed that made sense for a smallish town like Sioux Falls.

You stayed there until everyone else who loved your mom was gone, and it was just you and your dad left.

You didn’t bother to wipe your tears—not until your dad set a hand on your shoulder. You tried to wipe them away quickly, even though you didn’t really know why you didn’t want him to see you crying. He just gave you this look. In his eyes, you could see every fathom of his heartbreak. In a way, it told you everything you needed to know about your dad.

So you leaned into his side, and he held you close while the icy winds whipped at both of you.

Snow crunched beneath someone’s feet, and you turned to see a man walking down the row of headstones. He looked kind of familiar…

He had a thick beard and wore a baseball cap, but he took it off once he got close enough to pay his respects—first to Mom…then to Aunt Karen.

“Jack,” he greeted with a nod of respect.

You looked up at your dad, and the free emotions he’d been wearing clammed up behind a more familiar stern expression.

“Bobby,” he said, nodding back. Realization finally dawned on you. Oh, Uncle Bobby?

You hadn’t seen your uncle since you were…ten? Probably since Aunt Karen’s funeral.

“I’m real sorry about Christine,” Uncle Bobby said. He sounded a bit gruff, but his eyes were kind when they met yours sympathetically. “About your mom.”

Another tear fell down your cheek, but you nodded and wiped it away, sniffling.

“Thank you,” your dad said eventually. There was a brief, but awkward pause. Then Bobby nodded to himself and walked away, setting that faded blue baseball cap back on his head. You watched him go curiously.

“You remember your uncle,” Dad said. He didn’t seem happy about it.

“Yeah,” you replied. “Why didn’t he stay?”

He was family, after all.

Dad shook his head. There was a wry downturn to his lips. “He’s got a junk heap to look after.”

You frowned in confusion. But he didn’t explain what he meant. He just steered you back toward the car to go home.

Just as you both crossed under the iron arch to leave the cemetery, Dad reached into his pocket and gave you something. Your mom’s wedding ring.

“You can wear it if you want,” he said. “Or just keep it safe. Either way, just remember…she’s still with you. And I’m always gonna watch over you.”

The thought made you feel the slightest bit better, and also worse. Still, you took the ring and held it between your fingers. It was simple sterling silver, but beautiful all the same.

You got into his pick-up truck and he started the drive home. Just as you turned the corner, you hit a red light. You stared out the window as snow started a light fall, flurrying down to the damp pavement. Soon the ground would be icy and wet, and that reminded you of grocery trucks. Tears welled up in your eyes, but you were sick of it. Sick of crying.

It actually annoyed you…or…did it?

A feeling fluttered in your chest. It felt like anxiety and irritation all wrapped up into one. And another feeling, this time attached to a thought. It felt hot in your throat, and a lot like—

It’s not fair!

The thought startled you. Because somehow (and you didn’t know why), it didn’t feel like you were the one that thought it.

Finally, the street light turned green. It flashed in the corner of your eyes, and then you noticed a sleek, black car coming in the opposite direction. You watched it pass by for a moment, until your dad distracted you with a question.

“Are you hungry?” he asked. You blinked, trying to register what he said while you shook off the weird things you were feeling. Once your brain caught up to your mouth, you were finally able to answer.

“Not really.”

“Come on. I’ll get us a burger.”

You shrugged, but for once you really weren’t hungry.

“Dad, come on,” Dean said in frustration. On one hand, he didn’t want to argue with his dad.

On the other hand, this really wasn’t fair!

He was seventeen already. He’d gone on a handful of hunts with John before, so why not this one?

“Too dangerous,” John said. He looked over at Dean from the Impala’s driver’s seat. His tone boded no further argument. “Djinn are tricky. Even seasoned hunters have trouble with ‘em.”

Dean frowned. “I’m ready, Dad.”

“Do we have to go to Bobby’s house?” Sam piped up from the back seat. At thirteen, he was getting more and more lippy.

“Cheaper than a motel.” John smiled, then glanced at his younger son through the rear-view mirror. “Besides, why not Bobby’s?”

Sam sighed. “His heater doesn’t always work.”

“Well, I’ll help him take a look before I go,” John replied. Dean stared at the side of his dad’s face for a while, but he knew a lost argument when he saw one.

…Still, he couldn’t help but try.

“Dad,” Dean pressed.

John’s gaze stayed on the road. “Not this time, son. You and Sam’ll be okay at Bobby’s.”

Dean resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Yeah, bored at Bobby’s. But he knew it was better than being left at a crusty motel room. He was annoyed, but he could deal with it.

Until something else began to creep up in his chest. Something he hadn’t felt since…since his mom died.

It was this ball of lead in his chest, weighing him down and constricting his throat. It felt a lot like…like fear, and sadness. And finally confusion. He was confused?

Maybe.

Sad? Afraid? Not really, no. At least, he didn’t think so. He hadn’t thought about his mom like that in a while…

So what the hell?

Those sensations only lasted for a moment—the time it took them to finally cross the street at the red light and pass a pick-up truck going the opposite way.

But that moment seemed to drag on for minutes. Now he really was confused.

He sat still, hesitating, until the feeling eventually passed.

“Hey, Dean, where’s the Batman comic?” Sam leaned up by his ear to ask.

Dean almost flinched. He played it off though, and turned to look back at his brother.

“It’s in my bag, but wait ‘til we get to Bobby’s.”

“Why? That’s like, a whole ten minutes away,” Sam pointed out.

“Because my bag’s under a ton of stuff back there. Just leave it for a few minutes,” Dean said. He sensed that Sam was about to get all bitchy and not let it go, but then John cut in.

“He’s right, Sam. Just cool it until we get there.”

Sam frowned, slumping into his seat with an annoyed huff. Wanting to tease him out of his kid funk, Dean smirked, reached back and playfully tapped his knee. “Yeah, cool it.”

Sam slapped his hand away. “Stop.”

“Make me, dork.” Accompanied by another teasing flick to his ear. Sam hit him back, and it would’ve devolved into an immature, but not uncommon free-for-all, if not for John’s heavy sigh and a sharp warning.

“Boys, enough!”

Then the car was silent. Sam huffed again and settled back into his seat. Dean tapered down his smile and sat back in his too. He looked out the window and saw the snow beginning to fall. Without meaning to, his mind drifted back to that weird feeling in his chest.

He rubbed his chest absently. But soon enough, he forgot about it. Just like you did.

Neither of you realized exactly what happened that day.

It was the first tug of a lifelong bond, seared into your souls.

AN: Okay, this is my first soulmate AU! Maybe the end was a little melodramatic there lol.

Let me know in the comments what you think! Then keep reading. ;)

Here it is: Part 2.

Series Masterlist

Dean Winchester Masterlist

Main Masterlist

#dean x you #dean x reader #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #sam winchester #dean winchester #spn #spn fics #spn fanfic #dean winchester fanfic #bobby singer #john winchester #soulmates #dean x female reader #soulmate au #fluff #some angst #dean winchester x female reader #zepskies writes

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bestanimatedmovie · 1 year

Text

Choose your favorite!

Vote in the other polls!

What fans say:

Spirit: Stallion of the Cimarron:

I was a Horse Girl TM, so I watched this movie a million times as a kid. It's honestly the best horse animation I've ever seen, all the backgrounds are gorgeous, and the soundtrack is incredible. Also the plot is anti-colonial/anti "taming of the west". Genuinely cannot pick a favorite scene, but I love the scene where Spirit commits many acts of violence against the US military <3

horsie :) I love how they use actual horse body language instead of just turning them into a dog. Also enjoy how the protags are easily understandable with just body language and neighs. Also the 2d and 3d animation blend seamless.

I cannot begin to tell you what makes this movie so good. It's a corner stone of animated media. The societal commentary. The incredible emotion of not only the story but the animation. The songs. Sound the Bugle makes me cry every time.

This movie was a key part of my childhood and “Sound the Bugle” still makes me tear up.

This is like the greatest horse movie of all time and I will not change my mind. I watched this movie so many times as a kid that both the VHS and first cd I had for it got ruined and we had to replace it with another cd LOL. I once convinced my teacher to let us watch it in class because it had a few scenes with Native Americans and we were learning about them at the time(It's about the old west and the expansion of the United States westward so it has some Native American characters but def not enough to make it a Native American film, but it does have positive representation I think?) The main character is the horse Spirit, a lead stallion for a herd of mustangs. His thoughts are narrated but he doesn't actively talk and the horse behaviors are pretty realistic, also the ART of it all, James Baxter was one of the lead animators for this film and his work is incredible, and hand done. Some of the behind the scenes stuff in the extras makes the animation look 3d its so good, and the camera work is also insane. As a horse obsessed child this movie was a staple for me, and I prefer it even over live action movies with actual horses. ALSO THE SOUNDTRACK OH MY GODDD how can I almost forget, the soundtrack for this movie goes so hard, I used to use some of the songs as hype music not even lying.

The Mitchells vs. the Machines:

It’s in its core about family, how we can drift and argue. Not because of one true fault, but because we are different. It shows how being weird and different don’t make you less of a family while not demonizing people who do have more stereotypical ‘perfect’ families. I think it portrays our humanity and the way we bond and what we do for those we love, what we sacrifice, so well. It’s so funny and so sweet.

It's funny and the family is neurodivergent and it's just really nice v good time it looks like anti technology at first but its clearly more of a criticism on capitalism I just really like that movie its pretty to look at.

It's funky!!! hang on, bullet point list time: - has such a unique and expressive animation style - has a lot of pop culture references that don't really feel overbearing - has honestly one of the best family dynamics in a movie I've seen???? - realistic characters!!! with realistic and interesting character arcs!!! - absolutely hilarious. makes me laugh every time i watch it :) - comedic villain! gotta love me one of those. also she's badass for a smartphone so - tHERE ARE FURBIES - basically it's very chaotic but also heartwarming, and it's honestly my favourite movie :D

Heartwarming story about family! Also kickass animation

Very good stylized animation. Well written and designed characters. Super funny and sooo heart warming. Fucking rad action scenes (again the animation is fantastic). The story comes together well, it's just quite well written. + Protective dad character who's not annoying as hell (that's rare!). I love every part of when they're at the dinosaur museum thing.

#Spirit: Stallion of the Cimarron #Spirit #The Mitchells vs. the Machines #best animated movie #round 2 #tournament poll #tumblr's favorite

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candicoated · 9 months

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My favorite part about the Barbie movie coming out is how it is bringing a lot of attention to animated movies, and I'm so here for it. Those movies had their own personal charm to them, despite the quality and were such a staple of many people's childhood.

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w1ng3dw01f · 1 month

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I need to know I’m not alone here.

Does anyone remember the 2008 animated movie Dragon Hunters???

This one!!

It was a staple of my childhood and I was soooo sad that I couldn’t find it on any streaming services until I found it on YouTube.

I also found the 2003 2D tv series of the same name with the same characters on YouTube.

It is very silly. The plot’s good. I love the characters a lot. Lian-Chu is such a lad. I am so attached to all of them. They are probably one of my first encounters with the Found Family Trope. They live together traveling the world in my dreams. But, what I love most about it is the setting and the world building.

I MEAN LOOK AT ALL THIS!!

Growing up, I was like the only person I knew of who knew it existed.

FELLAS PLEASE

I NEED to know if anyone remembers this movie!

#dragon hunters #animated film #dragons #kids film #fantasy #medieval fantasy

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lightwing-s · 1 year

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𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐰𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐬 | 𝐭. 𝐝.

pairing: tim drake x female!reader warnings: some swearing, canon usual violence, needles word count: 2,6k summary: nobody in their sane mind goes out to a park in gotham at fucking midnight, nobody except you.

a/n: so, I'm not used to writing for tim, so I hope this comes out okay for my tim girlies and that I do him any justice ^^ also, if anyone is interested in the playlist mentioned, you can check it out here and listen to it while reading this piece.

⌜masterlist⌟ ⌜requests⌟

The night was a mess. Break ins, shooting, explosions, man-bats running around, and it was only midnight. Tim was already exhausted by that point, but there was still work to be done.

Bruce had members of the family scattered around town to get each and every single one of their problems tackled as quickly as possible. Thus, Tim was now chasing down a small group of man-bats that escaped from the attack on the financial district of Gotham and were now heading up towards the East End.

He struggled to keep them out of the crowded areas. It was friday night, so there were extra people out on the streets even with all the chaos going on around town. Some people just didn’t care. So, doing as best as he could, he managed to guide the creatures through a dark alley and send them to a probably empty park, a place where he could fight them without risking anybody’s safety along the way.

Far from defeating evil monsters, you, on the other hand, had great plans for you Friday night: laying in bed and watching silly 2000s rom coms with your roommate and best friend. Having to overstay at work once again, the only thing between you and your bed right now was a five kilometer walk through the streets and a dark park that would have scared you if you did not take this route every night of the week. Guess you’re used to it.

Putting on your headphones and setting the volume to the max, your mind shut off from your surroundings and allowed you to walk the path in peace. Chumbawama’s Tubthumping was playing loud in your ears as you dance-walked your way home.

Music had that power over you. The power to take your mind away from anything. Every time you had an anxiety attack, or when things just started getting complicated in life, be it with school, work or your family, hiding behind a beat was your favorite solution to send the worries away. That’s why, the day you first walked your path home from your new job, playing your favorite childhood movie soundtrack, HSM, and singing it word by word, you managed to get home without crumbling to anxiety. So, it became your ritual, and like that you ended your week nights.

Behind you on your walk, though, things were not so simple.

Fighting off the man-bats with a single syringe of the antidote was not a clever idea, but it would have to do. At least, he only had three more to fight. With his grappling gun, he aimed at one of their wings, hitting it at first try and pulling it down with much strength. Now, standing on top of it, he stapled its wings down while worrying about the two others who were now giving him their undisputed attention. Fending them off with, basically, one hand, he turned to the trapped one and injected five milliliters of the solution, seeing it agonize in pain, but in no time it was back to being human.

One of the other two, without patience, grabbed at the arm he held the syringe, almost managing to make Tim drop it, but he was quick to change hands and, with his free one, injected it on the leg, making it fall from the sky immediately, carrying him along the way. He fell with a thud, already feeling the pain streaming from his shoulder. Laying there on the floor, he tried to catch his breath, but there was no time for rest. He needed to get the last one.

Stooding up, Tim looked at the syringe still safe in his hand, telling him there was around ten milliliters left of the antidote, enough to knock it down. However, looking up in search of the last survivor, he couldn’t find it anywhere. Where had it gone to? The man-bats were a boisterous bunch, screeching all the time and with heavy wings that announced their incoming from a mile radius. So how did this one escape without Tim noticing?

Being alone in the park, a silence soon took over. But that was short lived. In his search for the damned creature, Tim found out he wasn’t as alone in the park as he thought.

Just further away from him, bouncing its heads and skipping down the stone road, was a girl. Headphones on, she didn’t seem to notice the commotion going on behind her, and for some reason, that had Tim infuriated. People’s carelessness these days were doing that to him, as if they acted like they really wanted to die. What the fuck!

Then, that’s when he found it. Bright red eyes hiding inside a bush right in front where the girl was walking through, ready to catch flight in her direction. Tim’s legs were already burning, but the way he sped up and ran to try and stop the thing from doing whatever it was in its mind, made the sensation go away with the built up adrenaline. He reached the monster before it could move too close, jumping at its back, grabbing it and dropping to the floor. Tim had his arm locked on its neck, giving it a rear naked choke, taking its breath slowly and making it lose its strength. Now, with ease, he inserted the syringe on its neck, injecting all that was left of the antidote.

“Every time that I get the feeling. You give me something to believe in. Every time that I got you near me…” he listened to the words of Atomic Kitten coming out of her mouth, while he waited for the effects of the antidote to show up.

Were they fucking singing? Tim thought, incredulous. How on Earth did they not hear them fighting RIGHT. BEHIND. HER BACK?

The man-bat’s body started quivering, and soon his bat claws were replaced with human fingers and, like a real sized doll, fell onto Tim’s body like jelly. Releasing his arm from its neck and bending sideways to let the man drop beside him, Tim finally could take a break. There on the ground, he pretended to not feel any pain, or any burn, and allowed himself a few moments of rest. But the sound of the steps wouldn’t let him.

Getting up on his knees, Tim took a moment to catch his breath before angrily staring at the person still unbothered walking away from him.

You didn’t need much to get lost in the music, easily accomplishing it within a few seconds of any of your favorite songs. In those few seconds, everything around you seemed to disappear little by little, as you soon immersed yourself into a dream world, much like a music video, and all that was around you could not be listened to. But when an angry looking boy wearing a costume you’d easily recognize under a normal state of mind, jumps in front of you, it’s kind of hard to ignore.

“You gotta be fucking kidding me that you didn’t hear a single thing going on behind you!” he screamed at you, frustration apparent in each word.

Startled, you could only reply with a scream, not recognizing Gotham's vigilante, and your favorite of all of them. You tried to run, but tripping on your own legs, you fell to the ground on your butt, loud music still blasting through your headphones but they now laid on your lap.

When he realized what he had done, he walked to you and extended his hand for you to grab, and with ease he lift you up from where you were. This time, while standing there in front of you, he was able to really see your face. Like, every single detail. You were stunning. So now, he felt the warmth climbing up his neck and cheeks out of the embarrassment of scaring you — and also from staring for too long. The adrenaline was still too high in his system at that point, forcing him to do things with thinking twice.

“Are you alright?” he asks, concerned. With a shake of your head and the sight of your opened hands showing him no bruises, he sights in relief.

“I guess I’ll just have a really sore butt tomorrow.” you joke, whilst still telling the truth. Your butt was definitely going to hurt tomorrow. With your answer, you took a smile from the masked boy, the apples of his cheeks rising with the action, and the bruise on his right one becoming evident. “You’re hurt.” you point out, putting your finger on your own cheek for him to find the bruise on his, taking out of it a bit of blood.

“Man-bats. I can’t think of anything worse.” he replies with a grunt. You finally look around, to where he had come from earlier and where you assumed his battle had happened. There was a man passed out a couple meters from where you stood, and you could see others further back. Your stomach fell, sensing the disaster that could have happened to you if it wasn’t for Red Robin.

“Here!” you fished inside your bag for that first aid kid your friend always insisted you have with you, taking out of it, and expecting to be embarrassed as soon as you show it to him, a Robin edition band-aid, tainted in green, red and yellow, and with a large R drawn into it. You show it to him, waiting for him to put it on. However, he leans his face closer to you, telling you silently to put it yourself. Not knowing how to react, your hands start to shake and you can barely take off the plastic protecting the bandage.

His cheek was warm, but wet at the touch. It must be sweat from all the fighting, you thought. Looking up, his hair was also all wet, small droplets falling down his sides. Placing the band-aid carefully, you find yourself awkwardly close to your favorite vigilante. His masked eye didn’t show you its real color, but never left your, making your cheeks grow as red as his. Unknowingly, your fingers lingered in his face for longer than needed, caressing the place where his wound was now hidden. Finally paying attention to your actions, you retract your hands to your sides.

Now, facing each other with a much more comfortable distance, you get to admire his face, even if partially hidden, and his pretty smile spread once more on his lips. The themed band-aid actually complemented well his outfit, and the funny way he stood there with his arms on his hips. Tim also analyzed everything about you, from your smile you didn’t allow out but decorated your face either way, the way you looked everywhere but him once your eyes met again, and the curious phone case you had in your hand. It was a Robin one.

“I’m sorry.” he finally apologizes, messing up the hair at the nape of his neck. You want to tell him not to worry, but he cuts you to say: “It’s just been pretty… Busy night.”

“So I’ve heard.”

“And you still decided to walk alone through an empty park at… eight past midnight?” he questioned, but his tone was light, not judgemental, almost a joke.

“It’s my only way home. I have to take it every day. With time you grow used to it.” you informed him with a laugh,

“And you’re not afraid?” he asked you one more time. With your shrug, you tried to tell him you were okay with that, when in fact, deep down, you knew with everyday before the clock ticked for your shift to end, the anxiety and the fear consumed your body and only wore out when you got to your street and Mr. Johnson could be seen in your building’s front door. Noticing your expression of uncertainty, he read between your lines and understood you perfectly.

“I can walk you home.” he offered.

“I don’t want to cause you any trouble.” you shook your head. “Besides, I think Batman might need your help.”

And as if the world could sense his desire, Oracle’s voice sounded in his ear telling him Superman was strolling around and decided to give the city some help.

“It’s been taken care off.” he told you, and signaled you to show him the way.

Walking side by side, you didn’t say anything for a while, until he curiously asked you what it was you were listening to that stopped you from hearing the lousy men-bats and all that fight.

“It’s a random playlist I found on YouTube, but I fucking love it. I can’t stop listening to it for days.”

“Can I hear it too?”

“I only have one headphone, but…” you took it from where you had placed it in your bag and put it around your neck. Taking your phone and opening it again on that same playlist, you set the volume to the highest. “We can listen to it like this?”

Throwing him an awkward smile, he leans in closer. Your shoulders are touching and you swear you can feel his breath on your neck.

“Are you an Atomic Kitten fan?”

“Not really, but I like expanding my horizons.”

“Then I think you’d really like Vicenzo. He owns a small store, where he sells old records. He recommends some of the best music, you should check it out.”

“You should take me there sometime.” you tell him.

If only I could, he thinks, regretting ever coming to you as Robin, and not simply Tim.

“I’m kind of busy a lot.” he tries to explain, and you notice the mistake you’ve made.

“I-I know. That was stupid. I know you’re busy.” letting your hair hide your face from him, you want to bury yourself down in a hole and never come out. Only you to think Robin himself would want to take you out in his off duty hours.

“At what time do you leave work?” Tim asks.

“Around 11h30. Why?” you reply, confused.

“I’ll bring you a disk tomorrow.”

“What?”

“I’m walking you home again, if you don’t mind.” he asks, begging to say yes and letting him see you again.

“I’d love it.” you whisper.

The rest of the way, you two talked about your music taste, the concerts you attended. You asked him about his costume, was it really as tight as it looked? Nightwing’s looked like it could rip at any moment. His was actually fine, it dressed him well, you told him, getting red once more.

By the end of the walk, Tim didn’t want to leave when you told him you had reached your street.

“So, this is it for me.” you told him, as you arrived at a crosswalk. Just across the street from where you stood was a man apparently guarding the door.

“Oh.” was all he managed to say. Looking down, he hadn’t paid attention to it, but your hands were awfully close, so he touched your finger with his, playing with them, and, eventually, lacing them together. “See you tomorrow?”

“See you.” you went to kiss him goodbye. Just a peck on his cheek, you had just met him. But just as you, he went for the cheek kiss as well, and so your lips met. You two pulled away, but the magnetic field that seemed to bring you together all night was too strong to resist, and he leaned down to you, holding your neck, and kissing you again.

His lips were wet, and his tongue graciously slid into your mouth, playing with yours. Your eyes were closed, and just like a song, he took you away from your reality, inserting you into your own, where only you two existed.

Stepping away for breath, still with his hands on your neck, he says.

“See you at 11h.”

“How can I pay you for this? Not the kiss I mean.” you correct yourself. With a laugh he replies, already running off to wherever it is Batman may need him next.

“Bring me some coffee.”

#tim drake x reader #tim drake imagine #red robin imagine #red robin x reader #tim drake x you #robin x reader #robin x you #tim drake fluff #red robin fluff #robin fluff

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slavic-roots-western-mind · 7 months

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Favorite soviet movies (and where to find them)

The general opinion about the soviet union varies from person to person, but I think many can agree that the movies that came from this time period were phenomenal. Here are my top favorite movies that I recommend, which also have generally good english subtitles.

Hussar Ballad

A rare musical-comedy gem that I absolutely adore. Shura Azarova, a 17 year old girl joins the army to fight against Napoleon. Plot twist: She's pretending to be a guy and starts falling for a fellow soldier, who she actually engaged to but he has no idea that his new friend is actually a girl (she doesn't like him in the beginning and no wonder lmao). Has a lot of catchy numbers, especially давным давно/ a long time ago/ davnim davno. It may seem a little weird, but watch the first 10 minutes, I guarantee that it will not be a waste of your time.

2. Ivan Vassilvveich changes profession/Ivan Vasilievich: Back to the Future.

A scientist successfully creates a time-machine but accidentally sends his building's manager and a thief all the way back in time to Ivan IV The Terrible's reign, whilst sending the actual Tsar to the modern decade. Chaos ensues for all.

3. Prisoner of the Caucasus/Shurik's New Adventures/Kidnapping, Caucasian Style (I had no idea this movie had this many translations lol) A kind but naive student named Shurik goes to the Caucasus on vacation where he meets a young woman named Nina, who he ends up accidentally kidnapping (yes, he's that much of a dumbass but he was told that bride kidnapping is a tradition that Nina follows and God forbid that anyone uses this thing called communication). It works out in the end just as chaotically as it started.

4. The Garage A cooperative is planning on buliding a garage for its members except for it now has to be reduced and there won't be enough space for everyone so someone's going to be left out. The comitee ignores said members objections, so someone locks them in for the night leading to them spending the night locked inside the museum which is also the meeting spot. It's actually quite funny, despite the odd description, but I am writing it whilst extremely caffeinated so bear with me here.

5. Unbelievable Adventures of Italians in Russia (Невероятные приключения итальянцев в России). A fantastic comedy. An elderly lady of soviet origin reveals to her grandaughter that there's a treasure buried in Leningrad. However, the wrong people hear about it, so they try to outwit each other in their race to Russia. Pretty funny, especially when the actual treasure hunting commences.

6. The Bremen Town Musicians An animated movie, but nonetheless deserving a mention. The troubadour with his gang of friends made from a donkey, a dog, a cat and a rooster travel around singing, until he meets a princess but the king doesn't approve of them etc. Pretty standard story, but the singing is amazing, especially Troubadours song "Luch solntsa zolotovo/Луч солнца золотого/ Beam of the Golden Sun" with the translation here sung by Muslim Magomayev who honestly deserves a separate post dedicated because his voice is amazing. The english subtitles are a bit iffy here, but nonethless it's worth a watch as it's only 20 or so minutes long.

7. The Mystery of the Third Planet Also an sci-fi animated movie, but the staple of my childhood. Captain Zelyoniy and Professor Seleznyoviy with his daughter go around various planets collecting new species for the zoo. However, on one of the planets they end up discovering something odd and before they know it, they're right in the middle of a conspiracy and a famous missing captain. Fantastic soundtrack and great animation.

There are many more movies that I'd definitely recommend, so this list will be updated sometime in the future.

#spilled ink #movies #studyblr #aesthetic #study motivation #study blog #travel blog #slavic roots western mind #college #college life #student life #student #movie review #movie recommendation #slavic #soviet union #soviet #soviet movies

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