#AND then it is also about handholding. the humanity in the middle of horror!!!

[helpinghanikan]

Sleeping arrangements

Avengers (and Matt Murdock x Reader)

Sum:  It's late and the bed is so nice. It's time to sleep and to bring your heroes along with you. (Fluffy little snippets of sleepy time with the Avengers)

Steve Rogers:

It’s the last train home and only one thing in this world is warm. The wall of Steve Rogers your head rested against was beating softly through the jacket and shirt he wore. Keeping your arms around his center to keep any of the heat from getting away. His own arm protects around your shoulders, keeping you in and gibing his hand something to do instead.

He could’ve driven, he should’ve driven, instead he wanted to take the train. He wanted to walk around like he did years and years before, but this time with your hands intertwined.

Although far away the train has started to shake the earth. Taking you out of the almost sleeping world and back into this cold one. The change in worlds brings out a yawn and lets the cold back in. It’s been a long day. With your eyes closed and clothes heavier than they could ever be Steve was the only thing keeping you up. His chin rests on your head after a while, thumb rubbing over your shoulder as the train finally pulled to a stop.

Inside it was the same story but in a seated position. Guided into his lap and landing with a groan as it was just so much work. The practically empty strain allowed your legs to stretched straight out over the seats.

Steve could stay awake longer than most, but he was tired. He was cold and annoyed and really wished he had driven instead of taking this stupid train. He took his frustration out on squeezing you tight, holding on as if you were liable to fall right out of the seat if he let go. At least it was warmer inside the train.

Tony Stark:

Someone staying up late, not getting enough sleep, and making exhaustion their personality trait is funny for maybe week. But After days of trying to coax him to come to bed, to try something other than just giving up on sleep or even talking to a doctor it gets concerning. After weeks of these same issues, it becomes frustrating.

Everyone, from Pepper to Peter have done their fair share of lecturing. Happy has gone out of his way in helping you get the dumbass to appointments. All of which he has walked right out because, unfortunately, he was still an adult who could make his own decisions.

It’s only after using the nuclear word that he pays attention.

“Anthony,” You say just before he leaves the room.

Although speaking to his back he does stop. His shoulders have tensed under the t-shirt and he’s listening in.

There’s an audio book’s worth of things you could say about this issue. But it would all be a repeat that he’s heard before, from many different mouths. Instead, you kept it simple, not even bothering to turn on the light.

“You didn’t even try.” It comes out from a tired partner just wanting the best for him. Yet Tony walks away from the advice, again.

Thor:

Power doesn’t stop for sleep. It’s still in the air when he’s laying sideways towards the window. Because of the whole nighttime thing it’s hard to tell if clouds are actually coming in or darkening. Maybe you’re just insane but Mr. Weatherman didn’t say anything about rain tonight, right?

It was a jolt that really woke you up. Looking over your shoulder at the expanse of muscular back. Thor movements were always a bit too…loud for this world. Whether running through a fight or moving in his sleep it calls attention to everyone. He doesn’t mean to, but it does wake you up enough to see your glass is dryer as a bone.

As if reading your mind, the rain has come down. It could almost be described as torrential how hard it was all coming down. Matching the dramatics of rain, a lightning strike coming straight down into some poor tree.

This wasn’t the first time Thor had a nightmare. Asgardians just seemed to be humans 2.0, making Thor just as a victim to horror as we humans are. At the same time, he was still another worldly being, translating to giving him a few feet when waking him up.

Another strike of lightening and another tree is taken out of this world. Without the lights on that blast was your only moment of lightening. The rest of the journey made to Thor’s side of the bed was done in darkness and pounding rain. Following the outlined Asgardian until reaching his shoulder. A gentle hand on his should does nothing. A little shake and a whispered “Thor,” finally does the trick.

The two strikes of lightening outside somehow reached his eyes. For the briefest of seconds blue, cracking energy is directed right at you. Stopping just as quickly as they appeared, replaced with Thor’s regular blue eyes that blink a few times.

“What is it?” he asks.

There’s no point in telling him the truth about his nightmares and their effect. Then again, there’s no point in lying either. Instead, it’s better to distract. “It’s still super early. Back to bed.” You say instead, kissing with until he takes the hit and holds you.

Bucky Barnes:

Sleep is a luxury that isn’t worth chasing. With the pillows and sheets there were nightmares and enemies that could sense his weakness. Trying to get at least six hours and all that guarantees is waking up sweaty and a call to doc, making sure to get everything back in order before you could ever notice.

Instead, he takes walks. Maps out the city at night, the changes and differences that happened without him. He recognizes the buildings, the structures and bricks that were too strong to be a victim to time.

Most of the time he does this alone. Watching a show about nothing until you were asleep before starting his walk. But there were times you catch him, calling out to him like the neighborhood cat trying to get away. Getting on your own shoes and jacket quickly. Then enforcing the handholding during the little adventure.

It’s only when passing by something important that words are shared. “One of my buddies worked here when this place was a mechanic. Broke his leg just before the draft, I still think it was on purpose.” He’d say then never bring it up again.

These walks are always shorter than most. After two times Bucky learned when to make the loop back home with you. When your building comes back into view the handholding has gotten sweaty. The walking had slowed to a crawl and you were dragging him down by the arm. Even less talking was done after getting through the door; just landing face down onto the bed without bothering about the shoes.

These kind of walks were Bucky’ favorite.

Natasha Romanoff:

The bed was used almost exclusively for sleeping. As the couch was both comfy and expensive. And, as Nat puts it, “Should we do it with the lights off too? Under the covers like grandparents?” Although it was probably another reason to use the overpriced couch more often.

Like any good, and overworked, soldier Nat could sleep anywhere. When a mission is done, and there’s nothing to worry about, a shower and a nap is the best in the world.

“I smell nice,” She says walking into the living after the shower. Steam still behind her, hair wrapped up and a sweater purposefully bought to be several sizes too big.

She stretches and lays over you like a cat. Resting as close as possible so you, too, can smell the expensive shampoo she uses. Making sure that the body wash isn’t ignored either as that, too, was expensive.

“Might as well spend this pay on something,” She says when asked about the prices.

Although she asks what you’re up to she won’t be awake for the answer. Already teetering into sleep land when you answer.

Natasha was as athletic as she was heavy. Only sometimes managing to carry her bridal style and most of the time having to walk/guide her into the bedroom. Either letting her drop onto the bed with the same weight you had carried in, or she holds fast and takes you down with her.

Just like a cat, Natasha gets to decide cuddle time.

T’challa:

Although the mattress was new, the bed’s size was traditional, and passed on through generations of rulers. Forget California king bed, A Wakanda king bed was that and a half. Ten feet length, twelve feet tall. Combined with blankets, pillows and more it was easy to disappear into the thing. But it was also easy to get lost in it all.

In the middle of the night, in the very center of this ocean of bed, you can reach out forever. Finding pillows (both the decorative and the usable kind), smaller blankets or stuffed animals that have managed to be added. But it’s a tiresome journey, one that doesn’t seem to have an end even as you stretched to pointed toes and fingers.

It’s only after touching body heat that you can relax. Finally finding your king that turns to your touch. Making his own journey through sheets and bedding. Using you as the trail into his love. Neither of you thinking about the absolute nightmare it will be to make this bed tomorrow.

Pietro Maximoff:

For most of his life Pietro is moving. Be it running or just running his mouth, he’s not the kind of guy to sit still. Unfortunately, this also applies to sleeping.

“He’s been sleep walking since we were children,” Wanda once said. “Our father once found him crying in a puddle. He had slipped and woken up in the street. He’ll deny crying, though.”

As an adult Pietro doesn’t actively get up and walk around anymore. The man made up of strong and lean muscle still moves quite a bit. Waking up from freezing feet finding yours or because he’s sat upright in bed again. Using soft, but firm, pressure to get him to lay back down or to guide him back to his side of the bed. If you weren’t careful his arms would find you, almost dragging you back to his side of the bed.

He'd deny it in the morning. Smiling with barely open eyes as you’re still pressed against him. No matter how much you’re going to insist this was his fault he’d still mock you. Nuzzling in since you insist on cuddling so much.

Peter Parker:

There’s a time limit next when sitting next to Peter. You have ten minutes before his head finds your shoulder. If you don’t shrug or lean away he’ll stay there, slowly leaning in until he’s all settled.

Although not completely asleep he does rest. If your hands are held in those moments you could probably feel his pulse slow down as his breathing slows. Maybe his eyes manage to stay open, but his eyes do get heavy. Someone could say his name, and he’d respond, but it be from his throat. An annoyed groan directed to whoever was ruining this moment. Even if it was usually a teacher or adult.

It’s only when traveling, and you’re sitting for a while, that he completely falls asleep. Progressing past just leaning his head and adding his arms. If you allow him, putting an arm around your back and the other over your center. With your own arm over his back, he sleeps in a position that, although sweet, always left a pain in his neck. Something he’d complain about until you ask if he want’s you to rub his shoulders.

Stephen Strange:

During aura projection Stephen’s body is dead weight. No muscles or bone working with the individual trying to help them. It’s just taken over by gravity and his entire weight wants to be on the floor. Sleep does the same thing.

Short of a bucket of water to his face he won’t wake up. Part of his experience in med school was taking every bit of use sleep could give him. Which leads to sleeping fast, and sleeping hard, usually opened mouth. No snoring yet, but the moment he does there’s an open target for shutting him up.

Matt Murdock:

It’s a mixture of meditation and caffeine that he is still functioning. Too busy, much too busy, as a lawyer for the two of you to share a bed most of the time. Making any comments you have about his sleep schedule mute.

Watching him doesn’t change give any information either. Coffee in the morning, some deep breathing and self-centering in the between moments at work, and sleep ins on days off were all you could gather. Between that it’s easier to just assume he’s fine.

Just laugh at his “not like I need to rest my eyes,” jokes and move on.

Carol Danvers:

After going through every time change known to man, alien and beyond Carol has developed a very specific still. Carol Danvers, woman with the power of a star and to sleep literally anywhere at any time. Be it a cleared-out corner of some ship, an open floor that keeps her hidden from passersby or on your lap. The latter being her personal favorite.

Like a massive golden retriever, she wants to be in the middle of your lap. Close as possible with a arm holding around your shoulder and the other on her toy, or phone.  A being of wiry muscle and heat keeping you pinned to the couch. Most of the time she’s out ten minutes into the movie, most of the time the remotes’ out of reach, and most of the time you gotta go pee.

#Fluff #fluffy #little angst #cuddling #reader insert #captain america x reader #captain marvel x reader #carol danvers x reader #matt murdock x reader #daredevil x reader #stephen strange x reader #peter parker x reader #peter parker imagine #spiderman x reader #pietro maximoff x reader #quicksilver x reader #black panther x reader #t'challa x reader #natasha romanoff x reader #black widow x reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barns x reader #steve rogers x reader #tony stark x reader #iron man x reader #oneshot #marvel #marvel imagine #i'm sleepy

[ryanmeft]

Movie Review: The Lighthouse

Somewhere in the sky beats something like a damned Gregorian chant, sounding out slow drum beats in the distance. In the sea, a shadowed mermaid howls, not at all seductive, the shriek of death like an infection from old sailor’s tales. In the loft where the light itself is, something strange may live, or perhaps it lives only in the imagination. The Lighthouse doesn’t want to scare you. Scares are cheap. It wants to break your mind.

Some of these images take place in nightmares or visions, or at least we suppose they do. Jarin Blaschke’s camera makes no clear divide between what is real and what is not; we are left to trust our senses, and Robert Eggers is intent on making sure we can’t. His follow-up to 2016’s The Witch is shot in a 1.19:1 aspect ratio, which is just technical jibber-jabber to you. It is boxed up in the middle of the screen, the way silent films were seen a hundred years ago before aspect ratios were even a matter of choice. It is shot in black and white, but this is no simple removal of color. Rather, the island on which it happens feels like the sort of place that has never experienced true daylight and never will. The lighthouse is rendered as a real thing, with real details, and not as some fevered version of itself, but that only makes it more oppressive. Universal’s classic monster movies are an obvious influence, but the film’s look is authentically original. Everything feels like wood engraving images out of an old, old novel. Those characters are only two: aging ex-sailor Thomas Wake and young drifter Ephraim Winslow. As they approach the lighthouse in the film’s opening minutes, where Ephraim will begin a month-long stint as Wake’s assistant, they are passed by two men, in silhouette, leaving. These will be the only other humans we glimpse during the film, and later it will be reasonable to doubt that we saw them at all. Wake is a caricature right out of Moby Dick, with a fake leg, a sprawling, dried-out beard, and a pipe; he never says anything unless he can say it as if he were writing a novel about the sea. In other hands this might turn into parody. Willem Dafoe, however, inhabits the role, to the extent that when he delivers a nearly five-minute curse full of utterances about being claimed by Poseidon, we are so absorbed in him and in the place that we don’t laugh. That a screenplay could combine with a location and a performance to such an effective degree that we do not bust out with guffaws at such stuff is an accomplishment in and of itself, for the lines Wake delivers are more often than not ridiculous on their face. Winslow is played by Robert Pattinson, who in a just world would be recognized as one of the finest actors currently working. He sees the older man as a drunk and a reprobate, and like most youth he is always right. He must follow the rules on drinking, even though he is reliably informed that no inspector would dun a man for having a drink when they’re trapped on a rock for four weeks. Shifts with the actual light, the watching of which is a duty jealously guarded by Wake, should be swapped each day, as the manual says. Wake informs him he will do as he’s told, not as the manual tells him to do. The key to their effective interplay is that neither man is an angel, as we will learn. Part of the film’s attempt to drive us mad is in constantly making us doubt who is right. Wake is experienced, personable, and reasonably friendly, but also clearly deranged and authoritarian; he is of little help to Winslow, berates him madly for even the smallest errors, and is an obvious and inveterate liar. Winslow seems obedient and eager to atone for past mistakes, but his youthful arrogance makes him particularly susceptible to temptation, and by the end of the movie he (and the film’s treatment of him) will draw fair comparisons to There Will Be Blood. 

That’s not a connection I make lightly. Eggers’s two films to date have been true achievements, and this perhaps more so, because he is now asking us to invest in a horror film that doesn’t contain the slightest hint of traditionally horror-centric tropes. It is about two men going slowly mad, or perhaps madder, in isolation, and there will be those who refuse to surrender to it, expecting and demanding something more typical. You must let these two characters in if they are to be effective; looking for familiar handholds will break the spell.

Indeed, the whole film is like that. The word “horror” as a genre tends to trigger our mental resistance more than others; we go in determined to prove ourselves better, smarter than the foolish and superstitious victims on screen. In The Witch, Eggers demanded we let go of that and place ourselves entirely in the seventeenth century; that movie received some pushback from traditional horror fans for not fitting the mold. With this film, Eggers, with his co-writing brother Max, clearly establishes himself as someone who doesn’t give a damn if you feel catered to.

The film apparently takes place in the late 19th century, but there’s no more sense of time given than that, and the film only grounds itself that much by a brief mention of Moby Dick. Place is even harder than time to draw a bead on. We only ever see the island, and the only things that tell us where it might be are brief references to the U.S. in the form of a manual. The men have backstories---Wake, a sailor until he lost his leg, Winslow, a former timberman in Canada---but of course we have only their word on this. Ships must use the beacon for guidance, but we do not see any. Such absence of the outside world invariably brings to mind possible interpretations of what it all means. Discussions among the employees at my local theatre shifted to the possibility the men were in purgatory, or some pagan version thereof; Dafoe’s constant presence as some sort of embodiment of the sea could be explained as a kind of cosmic jailer. Visions of madness begin to haunt Winslow, and his own sins are rendered present and immediate. The mermaid, in particular, is a recurring motif, and it is used as the stuff of horror, including graphic depictions of what actually having sex with one might be like; Eggers, whose interests are steeped in arcade knowledge, has clearly put more thought into mermaid sex than most people have ever put into anything. Whether a purgatory in fact or one in the mind, Winslow is trapped with his demons. As the situation deteriorates, we crumble with him, until by the end we’ve all descended into madness, and the film lives in our minds as we leave the theatre. Verdict: Must-See

Note: I don’t use stars, but here are my possible verdicts. 

Must-See

Highly Recommended

Recommended

Average

Not Recommended

Avoid like the Plague

You can follow Ryan's reviews on Facebook here:

https://www.facebook.com/ryanmeftmovies/

Or his tweets here:

https://twitter.com/RyanmEft

All images are property of the people what own the movie.   

#willem dafoe #robert pattinson #robert eggers #the lighthouse #movies #horror #a24 #jarin blaschke #the witch #moby dick #there will be blood

[mygiantesslove]

Christmas Eve at My Cousins Feet

Last Chance For Survival (14)

December 24th 5:37pm

Time passes by and your spirits have been broken almost beyond repair.  As your family laughs with happiness, Jake wonders how they can be so happy without even checking on him on Christmas Eve, when he’s supposed to be grounded and locked in his room. The sad minuscule, bug of a boy observes the cheerful room and says

 “It looks like they don’t even want me around anymore.”

Finally, after waiting forever, an opportunity arises.  After Jennifer receives a gift certificate to Victoria's Secret, Trixie opens up a new mp3 player and starts jumping around for joy.  She startles your cousin Melanie and she gets up and moves her seat.  This was your chance.  You run to your mom as fast as you can and start pounding on her shoe.  

 "Mom, look down here quick I’ve been shrunk hurry up, look, look."

It doesn’t work, so you climb up her loose shoelace and climb up to her ankle.  Jake sinks his teeth into the cherry moisturizer smelling skin of his mother and she instinctively extended her knee and kicked her foot in the air.

 "Ow, a bug bit me."

You were sent flying in the air straight towards Melanie's DDD breasts.  You landed in her cleavage and Mel didn’t feel a thing.  These breasts were amazing compared to the other pair you were crushed by and they jiggled just a little bit every time you poked them.

The bottom half of your body was stuck between Mel’s melons and you couldn’t move your legs.  Waving your arms in the air to get her attention did no good and even your dad and uncle were being polite and not staring at her rack.  10 minutes went by and you would have enjoyed your bouncy prison if not for the cutoff of circulation in your legs.  Melanie finally gets up and bends over to pick up her gift and you fall out and land in your sister's Black furry Ugg boot.

You fell all the way down to her white socked heel.   It was only the back of her foot, but you knew there was more than meets the eye to this sweaty, socked monster.  Samantha shifts her foot just a little bit, but that small amount of room that was moved in her boot caused her heel to move over right on top of you.

Samantha notices there’s something in her boot and moves it across her arch up to her toes and starts to like the little rock under her foot.  she plays with you for a while, squeezing you with her sweaty toes and rubbing you against her the ball of her foot. Eventually, you manage to grab hold of her pinky and pull yourself up across her sole and on top of her foot.    Samantha notices her little pebble is gone and misses playing with it.

 "There’s no way I’m going to be stuck smelling my sister's stinky feet all night, I’m getting the hell out of here!"

You ran across the top of her foot and jumped onto her leg and leaped onto the inside of her boot.  The inside was furry too and you used the fur as handholds and climbed up to the rim of the Ugg boot.  The smell of her feet was still stuck to you but Bianca's was much worse.  In fact, you preferred being under your sister’s feet much more than being trapped with Bianca's sole.

Jake fell over just as Samantha was fidgeting with her foot and he landed on a long brown object.  It’s lifted up into the air and when you open your eyes you see the wide-open mouth of your little sister about to eat her Favorite Christmas treat.  A peanut butter and chocolate Santa.

 "No Trixie don’t eat me I’m your brother”

But Trixie doesn’t hear her tiny brothers pleas and sends the piece of candy into her mouth.  You and Santa are lying on her tongue and she hasn’t chewed yet because she wants to savor the flavor. You look down her throat and see her esophagus go down forever into the pit of her stomach.  You know there’s no escaping the mouth of a giantess and sit on the candy Santa until she eats you and your fate is sealed to be eaten by a young girl and digested in her tummy.

But your Destiny doesn’t have to be this way!  The sharp teeth are pried open by none other than Jennifer herself and her giant hand reaches in and saves you from a humiliating death inside the belly of a little girl.    

 "Thank god she saw Trixie eat me.  Now I can be rescued and saved from being my cousin’s pet."

Jennifer says "Trixie, mom told you not to eat any more of these."

 "Aww, but I love the creamy filling."

 "I don’t care.  You can’t have any but I can’t let this go to waste, so ill eat it."

Out of one mouth and into another.  this time you’re about to be Jennifer’s snack and see her pearly whites open up and her tongue is salivating waiting to devour you.

But this time you’re ready and jump off the Santa Claus and into her well-endowed bosom.  Well, that’s where you would have gone if she didn’t turn around and bend over exposing her coin slot.   You screamed in horror as you knew you were about to enter another asscrack and fell perfectly into the center.  Jennifer felt your intrusion but was more concerned with her dad seeing her plumbers crack so she pulled up her jeans and sat down.

Jake had been pushed into the center of her plush cheeks and was squeezed on all sides.  She sat like this for a while before getting up and walking to the kitchen to get a drink.  This left you room to get out and you slid further down until you reached her anus.  Jennifer’s butthole was a lot bigger than the last rear exit you saw and you quickly squeezed yourself down before her asshole got too hungry for you.  but it was too late,  Jenny's dark pink hole expanded around you and sucked your torso in up to your waist.  you struggled to get out of the vice-like sphincter of your older sister but couldn't escape from her rectum until you heard a rumbling deep in her large intestine. A small fart escaped her bowels and you were shot like a rocket down her pants leg and fell on the thong of her flip-flop.

Jennifer drank the glass of water, turned around and when she took her first step you were kicked from her big toe to her right back to Melanie’s Breasts.  But this time you were sent all the way inside her cleavage and your whole body was being squished by two gelatinous squishy orbs.

After fighting a useless battle against two colliding planets your body fell limp and you slid down her bra and into her belly button.   You stayed perfectly still for quite some time until Melanie bent over and you fell from her navel into the front of her panties.  You couldn’t tell what color her underwear was but something much bigger caught your attention and you were staring straight at The Redheads, Redbush.

Scattered pubic hairs covered her vagina and before you knew it Mel fixed her panties and you were inserted inside her.  Her juices coated your body but you managed to grab hold of her pussy lips before Melanie continued to be aroused and leave the room to pleasure herself.  You slid through the lace of her panties and down her pants leg.

Mel walked away but when you looked up you saw the Giant barefoot of your aunt Michelle out of its sandal home and hovering over you.  Michelle thought she saw a bug on the floor and quickly Stomped on it before any of her party guests noticed it.  She didn’t want them to think her house had a bug problem.    

It was amazing.  The bare sole of your aunt's foot looked exactly like her daughter's foot except much larger and a few wrinkles in the middle and above the heel.  it also had the same similar smell to it except Michelle’s was a lot milder than Bianca’s since she changed her socks often and mainly wore open-toed sandals and pumps.  You wondered if this was what Bianca's foot would look and smell like in twenty years?  Jake hoped he would Never find out.  

Before he knew it, the familiar, beautiful foot came crashing down on him and squished him under her sole.  Michelle ground her foot against the carpet and this sent her nephew in-between her toes.  She slid her foot back in her shoe and that’s where you stayed for the rest of the night inside this attractive Milf's footwear.

Michelle had another glass of wine and watched as her daughter started to open up her first present.  It was a sweater and she looked a little disappointed, but Bianca didn’t say anything....yet.

After about an hour of being your aunt's foot toy, she slipped her foot out of her sandal again and even though your body hurt from the squeezing you managed to jump out onto the carpet floor and roll back underneath the couch.  You were defeated.  After all, that time trying to get their attention the only thing you accomplished was getting masticated by their various large body parts.

 "Kicked, Squished, Stepped on, crushed, eaten, licked, flipped, pressed, inserted, imprisoned, smashed, rubbed, squeezed and toyed with.  What hasn’t happened to me that any other normal human being can say that’s never happened to them?  After all that work, I’ve accomplished nothing.   Should I just give up on trying to be seen?  I’m too pathetic. I can't even get one giant girls attention when there's a room full of them.  I may as well just walk right back into Bianca's sock and go back to being her foot slave."  

A weird thought entered Jake Smith's mind?

#giantess #g/t #g/t writing #foot crush