#I FUCKING LOVE ESCAPE FROM NEW YORK/LA

[mori-ohs]

WE GOT ESCAPE FROM NEW YORK/LA’D.

#cyberpunk: phantom liberty #cyberpunk 2077 #cyberpunk 2077: phantom liberty #phantom liberty #cyberpunk 2077: phantom liberty spoilers #phantom liberty spoilers #YALL DONT UNDERSTAND #I FUCKING LOVE ESCAPE FROM NEW YORK/LA #V GOT SNAKE PLISSKEN’D

[teddynivvy]

ted said on stream he’s going to new york so… this is a blurb about phone sex while he’s away :) (NSFW!!!, minors dni!!!, afab!reader)

there isn’t a big time difference between new york and LA, but it’s enough that it’s later for him than it is for you. you’re alone in his place, wearing his black long sleeve t shirt and not much else. you’d seen him off at the crack of dawn, sun just barely coming over the horizon and painting the room pink and orange.

“so what did you guys get up to today?”

it’s late evening for you now, and you’re cutting up some fruit on your end of the line, wandering around his apartment and popping sweet pieces into your mouth.

“went out for food when i got in, played some games, filmed a video. what about you?”

“usual, work…” you trailed off, sucking some juice off of your finger, making a slight slurping sound by accident.

“what are you doing?” his voice is deep and intrigued, you can tell from the way the tone shifts.

“eating fruit. why?” a playful smile plays on your lips as you sit on the couch. “miss me already?”

“yes,” he laughs, and his voice sounds impossibly warm. “been thinking about you…”

“is that so?” you ask, amused, tracing circles on your upper thigh. “what have you been thinking about me?”

“touching you,” he laughs, and you can hear shuffling on his end as he pulls his pajama pants down. “kissing your beautiful face,” he smiles.

“i want you to touch me, teddy,” you moan, your own fingers dipping into your underwear. “i miss your fingers, and your tongue.”

he starts breathing heavily on the other end of the phone, his own hand beginning to stroke his cock. “fuck,” he groans, “i can’t even be away from you for a full day.”

that makes you laugh breathlessly, turning into a soft moan while you gently circle your clit. “teddy,” you start, “tell me what you want to do to me baby.”

“i wanna fuck you…” he starts, and you can tell he’s already coming undone. “fuck, i wanna pound that pretty pussy, baby.”

your breath hitches in your throat as your eyes flutter closed. “i miss your cock, feels so good and full inside of me.”

“fuck, are you playing with your pussy baby?”

“yeah, feels so good.”

“good girl.”

you let a loud moan escape your lips at his nickname, as he usually only reserved it for you when you were in the heat of the moment.

“i’m your good girl baby, fuck,” your jaw goes slack as your eyes flutter shut, faster circles around your core.

“i’m close already,” you moan into the phone, hearing his breathing begin to speed up on the other end of the phone call.

“i’m gonna come, teddy,” you feel your body begin to unravel, white-hot sparks across the back of your thighs as you rut into your hand.

“come for me baby, oh, f-uck,” his voice is broken as he begins to come with you, his hips jerking up to fist into his hand as hot spurts of cum painted his stomach.

moans pour out of your mouth as you hear him on the other end, listening intently to his jagged breaths and growls of your name. you imagine his flushed cheeks and pink tip, eyes screwed shut as he thinks of your pretty cunt to help get him off.

you lay in silence for a few moments as you come down, hearing his breathing steady.

“that was hot,” he finally laughs, as you hear him get comfortable in bed. “i miss you.”

“i miss you too,” you smile into the phone, feeling your eyelids get heavy after the sudden exertion.

“you going to bed now?” you ask, making your way up your bedroom and flopping down on the mattress.

“i think so,” his sleepy voice was so intoxicating, especially as he drifted in and out of sleep. “stay on the phone?”

“you’re so needy,” you tease, getting yourself comfortable under his covers and bunching the long sleeves over your hands as you place the phone on the pillow beside you, where his head would normally be.

“is that a yes?” he laughs, deep and gravelly. “yes,” you giggle, letting your heavy eyelids close. “goodnight, teddy. i love you.”

“love you too, baby.”

#ted nivison #chuckle sandwich fanfiction #chuckle sandwich x reader #ted nivison x y/n #ted nivison x you #ted nivision x reader #ted nivison fanfic #ted nivision smut #chuckle sandwich fanfic #chuckle sandwich smut #nat writes

[laundrybiscuits]

“Who’s Eddie?”

Darren doesn’t sound jealous or anything. It’d be a little hypocritical of him, considering he’s got a boyfriend and all. But Darren’s stayed the night a few times, more than anyone else Steve’s been sleeping with lately, and Steve thinks they’re getting to be pretty good friends at this point, and Steve’s been trying this thing lately where he’s more honest with his friends.

“Why do you ask?” Steve’s stalling, and he knows he’s stalling.

“You say Eddie sometimes in your sleep. Just wondering. He an ex or something?”

“No. Not an ex. Just a guy I—just a guy I liked, when I was a teenager.” It’s not completely true, he doesn’t think. But it’s close enough.

“Never got up the courage for a sweet little farmboy fumble?” Darren’s a city boy, and he likes to tease Steve about his supposedly agrarian roots even though Steve keeps telling him he’s never even been on a farm. (Aside from harvest festivals, and apple picking, and 4-H fairs, and his grandpa’s—okay, Darren has a little bit of a point. Not much.)

“He’s dead. He died,” Steve says. They’re just words. They can’t hurt anymore.

“Shit, I’m sorry,” says Darren, because Darren is not actually an asshole. He’s looking carefully at whatever Steve’s face is doing. Steve doesn’t know. Tentatively, he asks, “Was it because…?”

“No,” says Steve. Then he backtracks. “Maybe. Partly.”

Hunt the freak, right?

It wasn’t Jason Carver’s teeth in Eddie’s guts, but if things had broken a little differently, if they hadn’t had to worry about the human monsters in Hawkins…Steve thinks a lot about how it might have gone. Sometimes he hates Eddie for not being just a little bit more normal, and then he hates himself for thinking like that.

Steve has never said yes to a guy named Jason. It’s so fucking stupid and pointless. Maybe he’s missed out on the love of his life by turning down Jason Jones or whoever, and it's not even like Jason was the only one responsible. But he just can’t. He can’t.

He thinks it’s probably not even about Eddie himself, like as a real person. Eddie was just some guy, some kid, who was funny and handsome and sweet and wild, who loved the things he loved as if nobody had ever told him not to. 

A lot of people had told him not to. 

Eddie died because of ravening nightmare beasts and one superpowered evil dude with a god complex.

Eddie died because he liked playing a game about stories and magic.

Eddie died because some people, the people who raised Steve, the people who Steve used to love and look up to—those people couldn’t understand him, and thought that gave them the right to take away his life.

Growing up, Steve had always thought of himself as a lifelong Hawkinsite, the kind of guy who sticks around and puts down roots. But when Robin had asked him to go with her to New York, near the tail end of '86, it had been so easy to say yes. Leaving Hawkins behind had felt like escaping the jaws of a trap, even if it meant leaving a limb behind. They’ve been to Paris and London and LA, staying in filthy student hostels and drinking cheap wine, living the kind of life that had once seemed as make-believe and impossible to Steve as the kids’ wizard games. 

Steve dates men, now. He thinks that would have seemed even more impossible than Paris to his sixteen-year-old self. 

He still dates women sometimes. He’s had a couple girlfriends. Mostly, though, he’s not looking for anything too slow or serious, and that’s easier to get with men once you know where to look. He’s got Robin, he’s got the kids to see on Thanksgivings and Christmases, what else does he need? 

They’d moved out of New York around '91. Rent got to be too much, and Dustin had just bought a place in Oak Park with his then-girlfriend because the kid U-Hauls faster than a lesbian. 

So now, they share an apartment on the north side of Chicago, close to the lake. It’s pretty nice. Steve’s pushing 30, bartending six nights a week, and Robin answers phones at a fancy dentist’s office in the Loop. It’s been a lifetime since they’ve run from anything with too many teeth under the wrong sky. 

“Tell me about Eddie,” Darren says into the silence that's been stretching out too long.  

Steve closes his eyes.

“He was brave,” says Steve. “Every single day of his life, he was brave.”

(Now with follow-up!)

#steddie #steve/omc (in a nonromantic fwb way) #hurt no comfort #sorry!! #I've just been thinking a lot about Steve processing Eddie's loss in the future #anyway I hate sad endings so pls be aware that Eddie is in fact undead and skulking around somewhere #Steve just doesn't know it yet #fic: wait for the season to come back to me

[impala-dreamer]

You Might Fall In Love

A Short Story

~I didn't even want to go to the party, but my agent insisted. What I didn't know was that I was walking into fate and walking away with way more than industry connections...~

Sebastian Stan x Me (You? It's first person but still Y/N)

2708 Words

Warnings: NSFW. Purely self indulgent smut. It's hot and amazing and you're welcome.

Impala-Dreamer’s Masterlist  ~  Patreon  ~ Published Works

The party’s in full swing but we’ve somehow managed to escape the prying eyes and loud, fake conversations. Name dropping can be so fucking boring after a while and it feels like it sucks the air out of the room.

Maybe it was the champagne that was making me so impulsive.

Maybe it was just him.

Maybe it was the way he’d stared at me from across the room, unblinking, immovable no matter where I turned. Every step brought me back to him, every forced conversation led back to his stare. He was everywhere, yet he never moved. He was driving me insane but he’d never said a word.

Finally, I’d had enough of him leering and I headed towards the bar to confront him. Pushing through the crowd of tuxes and evening gowns wasn’t easy and I nearly tripped over myself to get to him.

He was gone.

I turned, searching for those captivating blue eyes, the heavily stubbled, chisseled jaw, but he was gone. Disappeared like some drunken apparition.

With a sigh, I gave up, turned to leave and throw myself back to the wolves, but a hand caught my upper arm, tugging me back.

I gasped and spun, turning right into him.

“Hey.” His smile was lazy and gorgeous, his touch intoxicating. “Come here often?”

I swallowed hard. “I try not to.” Fuck, he smells so good, what is that? Oranges? No… “These kinda parties aren’t my thing.”

He presses the tip of his tongue between his front teeth and looks back at the crowd, nodding. “Not really my scene either.”

There’s just a hint of New York City in his voice and it reminds me of home. LA hasn’t been kind and I’ve been dreaming of colder weather.

“Shame,” I say, trying not to flirt too hard. “You look like you fit right in.”

He turns back and grins.

I shiver. “That’s a hell of a suit.”

It’s open at the collar, tie long ago discard or not even thought of to begin with. The dip at the base of his throat draws my gaze and my mouth waters. Fuck.

He sees me staring and leans to his left, crooking an elbow on the bar. Too casual, too sexy. God, he’s perfect.

“What can I say?” he teases, with a shrug. “I like a good suit.” Blue eyes travel my body slowly and he tongues his cheek. “That’s one hell of a dress.”

My cheeks burn. I bite my lip and taste the color I have slathered on. “Eh, it’s too tight.” Instinctively, I cover my belly, crossing my hands over it, hating the plumpness.

He cocks his head and licks his lips, staring again. “It’s perfect.”

He grins and I see teeth. He hums, almost growling like a wolf and my mind reels. Goddamn it…

I don’t know if I’m shaking outwardly, but my insides are twisting and turning and fuck, I feel faint.

He stands back up, straightening to full height and even in my heels I have to look up just a tiny bit. Fuck, he’s so beautiful I could die right now and wouldn’t even care.

Suddenly, and almost amusingly, he extends his right hand between us and smiles.

“I’m Sebastian by the way.”

A laugh bubbles up and out as I take his hand. “Yeah, I know who you are.”

His fingers wrap around my hand and the squeeze is almost too much. His skin is hot and my eyes go blurry for a second.

He dips his chin, looking into my eyes. “And?”

Fuck, can he tell my pussy is damned near drowning?

I stammer, still locked in his handshake. “And… I’m a- big fan. Um… Bucky’s v-very um… You make good movies. Very talented. You.” I look up and he’s near to laughing. Shit.

He leans in and my heart nearly stops. He tips his lips to my ear and whispers, dark and gravely. “I meant… what’s your name?”

I’m pretty sure death just tapped on my shoulder but I manage to answer. “Y/N.”

“Y/N…” He inhales deeply and then pulls back, finally releasing my hand. His eyes are still on me, still dissecting every bit of my face, every twitch, every flare of heat.

I can hardly stand. I know I’m blinking too much, I can feel my jaw drop but I can’t close it. He’s got me caught in some kind of net that I can’t break through.

“Beautiful.”

I don’t know if he means me or my name and I can’t give a flying fuck. My chest hurts suddenly and he scans my form again, eyes settling on the hint of clevage my navy dress allows.

“You wanna get out of here?” he asks.

I can’t breathe. This is death, I’m sure of it. “Um… what?”

He leans in. “It’s really loud in here and I’m getting kinda over everyone staring at us.”

I gasp and look back at the room. “People are staring at us?”

He grins. “Absolutely. Can’t you feel their eyes? Hear their whispers? They’re all talking about us, wondering what we’re talking about, why I’m over here with you when I should be kissing up to the line of producers in the corner.”

I take a breath. “And… why are you over here with me?”

He runs the back of his hand slowly up my bare arm and my skin blisters in his wake.

“I’m drawn to beautiful things…”

For a moment, it’s like I’ve blacked out. I don’t know where we’re going, what’s happening, but suddenly fresh air slaps me in the face and I can focus for a moment.

Outside. Up high. A balcony.

Sebastian tugs me into the shadows, far from the wide open windows that offer the party a glimpse of the skyline.

“This is better,” he says, turning to look at me.

My hand is still clutched in his and I can’t remember exactly when he grabbed me, but I don’t want him to let go.

“It’s- nice out here,” I whisper, still catching my breath.

Los Angeles glows around us, lighting a night sky that will never actually be dark. I miss home. At least New York doesn’t glow light a nuclear blast. More of a neon sign. Classier. Less deadly.

“It’s stunning,” he says, eyes glue to me. He hasn’t even peeked at the city.

My mind is screaming. “You’re very…”

He squints, waiting. “Yes?”

“I don’t even know what you are,” I laugh.

He takes a step and I back up. I’m not scared but I can’t let him get closer. I won’t survive.

“Pick something,” he says. “Anything. Just one word. What am I?”

My back hits the wall and he’s there to make sure I feel every brick.

I suck in a breath. “You’re… dangerous.”

“You think?” He licks his lips, stares me down, waiting for me to ask.

“Yeah.” My breath feels stuck, my body tense and aching for him.

He drags a single finger down my cheek, teasing at my jaw. “How so?”

He’s coy, slick. He knows. He knows what he’s doing to me. He can probably feel my temperature rise beneath his fingertips, feel my pulse quicken as he brushes his thumb over my throat.

“You’re doing things to me and I don’t know if I should let you but it’s… so fucking hard to say no.”

“Do you want to say no?” Blue eyes dig deeper, as if he’s trying to mesmerize me. And fuck, it’s working.

“I…”

“I don’t want to make you do anything you don’t… absolutely want to do…”

My stomach flips. “I know.”

“And I won’t do anything to you that you don’t ask me to do.”

His voice swirls around in my brain and I’m a thousand percent sure he’s made up of some kind of magic because it’s getting so fucking hard to think.

“I…” Fuck, my legs are actually shaking. “I want you to kiss me.”

He grins, swipes his tongue across his lips and then leans in.

“Here?” His lips land on my cheek and it’s almost like heaven has scooped down to lift me up, dead.

“Yes…”

He travels over an inch, lips landing at the corner of my mouth. “Here?”

“Yes.”

Again he moves. The tip of his nose brushes against mine, his hand moves up to cup my cheek, holding me gently. His hand burns like fire sent by the devil to melt my brain and sent me down the most wicked of paths.

“Here?”

He kisses me dead on and my eyes roll back, my chest rising to press into his.

“Yes.” I can feel myself moving, grabbing at his lapels, pulling him closer, but he’s already there. There’s no where else to go but deep inside and he does, prodding his tongue between my lips and fuck it’s like he’s fucking me everywhere. I can feel every bit of him against me and I hate humanity for inventing clothing, for forcing us to cover up when I could be feeling his skin against mine right now. “Please…”

He sets his left hand against the wall, holding himself back an inch as he gazes into my half lidded eyes. It’s so hard to open them, so hard to focus on anything but the thrumming of my clit and the racing arousal that’s pushing into every fucking bit of me.

He draws his bottom lip in and holds it there, pressing down, denting the flesh and pulling the last taste of me into himself. “You’re begging already… but for what?”

God, I hate him so much.

“All you have to do is ask and I’ll do it.”

God, I love him so much.

I can barely think. His right hand slides slowly down from my cheek, fingers dancing across my bare neckline. He sinks a fingertip below the line of my dress and slides it from one shoulder to the other, feeling me shiver. He smiles.

“You don’t have to be shy, Y/N…”

My name on his lips is like a drug that I’ll need for the rest of my life.

“Fuck me,” I say, shocking myself, but then it’s out there, hanging between us with no way back. “Want- I- I need you to fuck me.”

His upper lip twitches and his eyes darken. He hesitates for a split second, letting me retreat if I need to, offering me a slim slice of escape.

“Please.”

I’m damn near panting, my tits crushed against his firm chest. “Please…” Tears are in my eyes and I grit my teeth, desperate and wasted and so fucking aroused that it hurts. “Fuck. Me.”

He licks into my mouth, distracting me with a rough kiss while he claws at my dress. I can feel him gathering the skirt up, bunching it between us so he can draw a hand across my thigh. Everything tightens inside of me.

He slides his hand between my thighs and moans into my mouth. Fuck, can he feel how wet he’s made me already? How hot I am? It’s burning me, it must be obvious.

I spread my legs and wrap a hand around the back of his head, holding him to me. I bite at his lip as he presses his palm flat against my sex.

Fuck.

“Please…”

He peels back the lace covering my cunt and grins against my lips. “I do love hearing you beg…”

I want to say something clever, to snap back with something alluring but my jaw clamps shut as he strokes at my slit. I can’t open my lips or I’ll scream, I know it.

Slowly, almost painfully, he dips a finger into me and my eyes roll shut. I claw at the nape of his neck, pant against his lips as he plunges it knuckle deep. Once, twice, and then pulls it free. He stands back a bit and brings the finger to his lips, licking it clean with a deadly hum.

“Soaked.” His eyes flash darker and I want to drop to my knees. “And delicious.”

I’m yours, forever and ever and ever and-

He attacks, slamming me into the bricks, moving his firm body against me in a rolling wave that makes no sense in my quickly emptying head.

Somehow he gets my leg up around his left hip and he’s jerking his hand into me, spreading me open, making the skyline blur.

“Fuck! Please!” I know it’s too loud but he grins, loving it. I can feel the spread of his lips against mine and he twists his fingers deep. “Oh god!”

“Shhh…” He licks at my open mouth, tongue lapping at mine. “Don’t want everyone to hear you…”

I moan, dying a little bit as he swipes over that blessed spot inside me again and again.

“Or maybe you do.” He lifts his head and stares down, lashes thick and covering his gaze. “You want them to hear us? Want everyone in there to know I’ve got you out here, dripping and begging me to fuck you?”

I’m so dizzy and everything feels so fucking good I just nod. My head rolls back and I know my hair will be fucked by the time we’re done but I don’t give a shit. I want… I need him. I need more.

“Please. Please. Please…”

He hushes me again as he feels my body tighten around his wrist. “You’re gonna cum.”

It’s not a question, it’s almost a command and my blood is racing in my ears and everything snaps inside.

“Fuck!”

He clamps his free hand down over my mouth, pressing down hard to keep me quiet. My eyes go wide, my breath halts as I cum. Fuck, it’s not enough. I need more…

I’m trembling, faint and pulsing. His hand leaves my mouth and he shifts against me. His slacks fall, his fingers dip into me and spread me apart. He bites his lip as he sinks inside and it feels like I have been missing this my entire life.

“Jesus Christ- Fuck.”

He kisses me silent as he bottoms out and my muscles close in around him. He lets out a moan that vibrates through me and my nails scrape at his scalp.

“Do it,” I beg. “Do it.”

His jaw trembles, teeth grit. He eyes me, dark and dangerous. “Fuck, you’re so tight. I can’t-”

I claw a line down the nape of his neck. “Fuck. Me.” I bite at his lips, wanting blood. “Hard.”

He snaps his hips and I lose any control I had left. It takes all I have to hold on, to bite my tongue and keep from screaming his name into the hot night.

Every thrust pushes me up the bricks. I can feel the each scrape and the pain just adds to the pleasure. I fist his collar, tighten the stiff white between my fingers, lick at his lips.

He breaths heavy, grunting as he fits his hands under my ass and sifts. He bucks his hips and his eyes go pure white as he cums. I feel it like a gush of fire and my cunt throbs, pulling in every single drop until he’s weak and smiling like a fool.

He lets me down and I feel a hot drip slither down my thigh.

“That was- fucking- wow…” So eloquent. So drunk on him. I can’t stand it.

He licks into me again, slowly this time. His hands cover my face and he holds me there even after he’s pulled away. He smiles and my knees buckle.

Thank God for the wall.

“I don’t know about you,” he says, a hint of a drunken laugh on his tongue. “But we’re gonna do that again. And again. And again.”

Finally, he backs up to fix himself and I can take a full breath.

“Careful,” I warn.

He looks back, brow furrowed in question.

I grin and bite my lip. “You might fall in love with me.”

He laughs and runs a hand through his hair, setting everything back into place. He spins back to me and closes the distance between with two steps. “Ya know something?” He lifts my chin with his thumb. “I wouldn’t mind that one fucking bit.”

2023 Forever Tags (Always Open! Send an Ask!)

@aditimukul @agirlwithdemonblood @amanda-teaches @akshi8278 @alwayskeepfightingsweetheart @b3autyfuldisast3r @babysimpala @beardburnsupersoldiers @because-imma-lady-assface @bloodline1632 @charred-angelwings @chenshemesh1 @cosicas-cuquis @covered-byroses @djs8891 @deanwinchesterswitch @deansyahtzee @feelmyroarrrr @foxyjwls007 @hobby27 @iamsapphine @idreamofdeanie @ilsawasanacrobat @impalaspixie @jawritter @justcallmeasmodeus @kazsrm67 @kittenofdoomage @leigh70 @lovealways-j @lyarr24 @mariekoukie6661 @maggiegirl17 @mistressofallthingsgeeky @pandaxo79 @peachy-vans @rachiem4-blog @roseblue373 @sacriceria @samwellwinchesterthebrave @sexyvixen7 @spideysimpossiblegirl @spnexploration @stevekempscocktails @the-wounded-healer05 @thoughts-and-funnies @vulgar-library 

#sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan fanfiction #one shot #sebastian stan x reader

[exhuastedpigeon]

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love ❤️

OOh this is so fun!! I'm cheating and giving you seven since I tend to have favourites for each fandom I've written for and at this point I've written for way too many fandoms.

give me a sign, I want you next to me Buddie || teen || 7k

Buck loves working at the 118. He loves living in LA. He loves his kid. He loves the life they've manage to build. The only thing he doesn't love is that his husband is across the world in a war zone. OR The 118 knows Buck has a really cute kid and a partner he loves, they just think that partner is his husbands ex.

it's like everything you say is a sweet revelation Buddie || mature || 5.6k

“Marry me,” Eddie said. It wasn’t a question, it was a sentence. He said it like he was commenting on the weather or last night's Dodgers game. Buck slowly lowered his coffee cup, eyes wide. Eddie lifted his drink and took a sip, a satisfied hum escaped him as he did. “Come again?” “Marry me,” Eddie took another sip of his coffee. “Please?”

wet your lips (and smile to the camera) Buddie || mature || 6.8k

Buck has a problem and that problem is that Eddie Diaz is going to ruin his life. OR Eddie starts modeling on the side and Buck can't stop looking at his pictures, mostly because Eddie's ads are everywhere.

Baby On Board Steddie || teen || 27k

It took less than a day after the news that Steve Harrington had gotten Tammy Thompson pregnant for his friends to all but abandon him. It took less than a ten minutes after finding Eddie Munson under the bleachers for Eddie to adopt Steve into his merry band of outcasts. Prequel to Dustin's Dad(s)

I'm Yelling Tinder DexNursey || explicit || 6.9k

Dex wasn't supposed to know anyone in New York. Nursey was supposed to be in fucking Europe for the summer. Instead of being in Europe Nursey was smiling up at Dex from his Tinder profile. Dex swiped right.

Like James Dean, Only Sadder Sterek || teen || 3.8k

The star of the Beacon Hills High School baseball team and Beacon Hills resident bad boy probably have nothing in common, right?

Queer Robins Club DC (multiple ships) || mature || 4.9k

In which the Robins aren’t so good at keeping their sexualities a secret, not that most of them would want to anyway. Or How each of the Robins accidentally came out and made a club to commiserate together.

#ask memes #THIS IS SO FUN #fic recs #my fics #buddie #sterek #steddie #dexnursey

[wonderlandleighleigh]

Here’s the creepy Midge story I talked about last night.

In honor of spooky season, this was kind of intense. 

Please note that this is a creepy Midge specific thing, and like. This is in no way how Judaism works. This version of this character is just like this.

Warnings for a near miss. 

Here we go.

August, 1966 

She wakes up at three in the morning from a dead sleep and looks out her bedroom window, considering the moon high in the sky. It’s early August, and hot and sticky in New York, and when she climbs out the window and onto her fire escape, she breathes in the night air, closing her eyes. 

She stays there for a good hour before climbing back inside and picking up the phone, dialing the number she’s had memorized for years but never uses. 

“Fuck. What? Do you have any idea what time-” 

“I’m coming to visit,” she tells him. 

“Midge?” Lenny asks, obviously confused. 

“I’ll see you tonight,” she tells him. “I’ll bring the groceries.” 

“Midge - don’t you fucking dare-” 

“See you later, Lenny.” 

“Midge!” 

She hangs up and packs.

***** 

As promised, she gets to his home in LA, groceries in hand, at seven o’clock in the evening. She wanders past him and heads for the kitchen, somehow knowing exactly where it is. 

“Midge, I need you to leave.” 

“I hope chicken is okay,” she tells him as she gets to work. “I couldn’t find a brisket in this god-forsaken place.” 

“I don’t want you here, Midge,” Lenny snaps, following her around as she starts to make dinner. “To say nothing of the fact that I haven’t heard from you in three fucking years.” 

“You told me you wanted me out of your life,” she points out. 

“Yes, and I meant it, and it still stands,” he tells her. 

Midge turns and gazes at him. Seemingly right through him, and he takes a step back from her, obviously a little spooked. 

“Give me one night,” she says softly, reaching out to stroke his beard affectionately. “And then you never have to see me, ever again.” 

He keeps gazing into her soft, blue eyes, nodding slowly, not knowing why. “One night. And then you leave.” 

“And then I leave,” Midge agrees. 

And so it is. 

***** 

She makes them some dinner. Roast chicken and roast potatoes and glazed carrots and they sit at his kitchen table, eating in companionable silence. 

“So?” he asks quietly. “How are you?” 

Midge nods. “Good.” She pins him with that unknowable gaze again. “How are you?” 

Lenny swallows down a mouthful of carrot. “Not…great,” he admits without meaning to. “Not great. I’m high more often than I’m not and I can’t stop thinking about the appeal and I’m missing out on Kitty’s life and I’m dating someone half my age and I just-” he stops talking for a long moment. “All is not well.” 

She nods, and reaches over, taking his hand and holding it. A comforting gesture from a woman he has no right to ask for comfort from after everything that’s happened between them. 

But Midge tilts her head and gazes down at their hands, her thin fingers stroking his boney ones tenderly. “Finish eating,” she tells him. “You’ll feel better after you eat.” 

He does as he’s told, but keeps gazing at her, confused. 

***** 

After dinner, they do the dishes together, and then Lenny puts a record on to listen to. Otis Redding. And they dance and talk and laugh like no time has passed at all. Like it’s 1961 and not 1966, they’re funny and talented and in love, and not exhausted and disappointed by the trajectory of their lives. 

Midge holds onto him tightly, her fingers toying with the curls at the back of his head, and Lenny closes his eyes, burying his nose in against her neck. 

“I’m sorry, Midge,” he mutters absently. “For everything. I’m sorry.” 

“It could be worse,” she tells him softly. “It could always be worse.” 

***** 

They don’t have sex. 

She lays in his bed with him, holding him in the quiet of his darkened room. 

“I don’t know what to do anymore, Midge,” he murmurs against her hair. 

“Yes, you do,” she smiles up at him. “You’ve always known, you just don’t like to listen to me.” 

“I don’t like that you’re right all the time,” he admits.

“Not all the time,” she counters, tracing a finger down his neck. 

“Most times,” he shrugs. “About the big things.” 

She hums softly and looks him in the eyes. “Where are the drugs, Lenny?” 

He doesn’t respond to her for a long time. Nearly twenty minutes pass before he tells her. 

“Bathroom,” he mutters. “Like always.” 

Midge nods and leans in, kissing his forehead before sliding out of bed and wandering into the bathroom.

Lenny closes his eyes as he listens to liquid hit the toilet water and then the flush.

***** 

Daylight starts to crack through the closed shades and Midge runs her thumb over his collarbone. “It’s time.” 

“No,” Lenny mutters, still half asleep, holding her tighter. 

“One night,” she smiles. “We said one night, and now the sun’s coming up.” 

“I could make you breakfast,” he offers. “Coffee?” 

Midge takes a deep breath before she leans in, kissing him slowly, just like she used to, her fingers threading into his hair, her lips tender and loving against his. 

And it’s everything he’s been missing for the last three years. He pulls her closer, clutching at her, rolling her onto her back underneath him. “One cup of coffee.” 

“That doesn’t feel like coffee,” Midge laughs softly. “That feels like your dick.” 

“Okay, so maybe a little something else and then coffee,” he offers. 

“You have someone,” she reminds him softly. “And that someone isn’t me anymore.” 

The sadness in her eyes makes him pull away, sitting up, looking conflicted. 

Midge leans in, pressing gentle kisses all over his face before she slips out of bed. He watches her as she fixes her hair and pulls her bag over to redo her makeup, and soon, she’s Midge Maisel, world class comedian, television darling and celebrity. 

Midge Weissman, the beautiful woman who knows so much and tells him so fucking little is gone. 

She turns to him, gazing at him for a long moment. “Bye, Lenny.” 

When she heads out the door, towards the front hall, he scrambles to follow her. 

“Midge.” 

She opens the front door to leave.

“Midge.” 

She turns to look at him.

“Why did you come here last night?” Lenny asks, gazing into those blue eyes again. 

She just smiles and takes a breath, smoothing out her dress. “Ask me again on your birthday.” 

And like that, she’s gone with a click of the door.

***** 

The whole night felt like a dream. If it weren’t for his empty stash bag in his bathroom and the leftover food in his fridge, he’s not even sure he’d believe she was ever there to begin with.

But she was. 

He cleans himself up. In most of the ways he knows he needs to. Hires back some of his lawyers. Kicks the drugs as best he can. Things end with the girlfriend. She’s young and she wants more than his old bones can give her and that’s - 

Well that’s fucking fair, really. 

His conviction gets overturned pretty quickly once the lawyers are rehired, and suddenly offers for work start flooding through. 

He’s back in New York by his birthday, and Midge shows up at his Village Vanguard gig. She’s watching from a table in the back, smoking a cigarette, and enjoying a drink. She smiles at him when he wanders over after his set. 

“That,” she tells him. “Was amazing. But I’m not actually surprised. You’ve got three years of material just sitting in that big brain of yours waiting to get out.” 

Lenny takes a seat and she offers him a light for his own cigarette. “Thanks.” 

“Sorry I didn’t get you a drink, I don’t know what your poison is these days,” Midge says sheepishly. 

He waves it off and leans in, gazing at her, narrowing his eyes. “It’s my birthday, you know.” 

“I do know,” she nods. “I sent some dirty magazines to your hotel room.” 

“Very thoughtful,” Lenny chuckles. “But I want something different for my birthday.”

“Oh?” 

“An answer to a question you promised me,” he reminds her. “You showed up at my house with groceries in August. You cooked me dinner. We danced. We laughed. We kissed. You flushed my dope. Why?” 

She gives him a soft smile; one that drives him nuts, and takes a drag from her cigarette. “Because.” 

“Because?” 

Midge shrugs. “Because you needed me.” 

“And you just knew that. You woke up at three in the morning New York time, and you thought ‘Oh. Lenny needs me. I better hop a plane.’” 

She stares at him for a long, silent moment. Not smoking. Not drinking. Just staring, and a feeling comes over him he’s never had before. 

A feeling like feet crunching in a cemetery. Like trying to avoid stepping on someone’s grave.

And failing. 

Lenny swallows hard, and when she offers him her drink, he takes it quickly, downing the rest of the martini. The sting is good. 

“Fucking Christ, Midge,” he mutters, rubbing his face. 

Her hand lands on his shoulder comfortingly and he covers it with his own. She flags down a waitress and orders herself another martini before turning to Lenny. 

“Still bourbon on the rocks?” she asks gently. 

He nods wordlessly, and Midge gives the rest of the order before the waitress walks off. 

“How close did I actually get?” he asks quietly. 

“Close enough,” she tells him. 

Lenny takes a long, stressed-out drag off of his cigarette, and keeps holding her hand. “How did you know?”

Midge shrugs at him. “I woke up. I sat around. I thought to myself ‘I need to go see Lenny. It might be my last chance.’ And then I did.” 

“I both love and hate that you do this shit,” he mutters. 

She smiles a little and squeezes his shoulder. “I am well aware.” 

END

#fic #au #tmmm #Creepy Midge #Midge Maisel #Midge x Lenny #Midge and Lenny

[zappedbyzabka]

Sometimes I think a lot about a mafia/mob AU. Sid's got a lot of money, a type of power, and the idea of him using Johnny as a way to make a deal with some LaRusso crime family and maybe Daniel is the one who went to make the deal and says something like he'll take the blonde if they want a deal and Johnny's actually more than happy to escape Sid and the mansion, he just doesn't realize what he's agreed to. But being pretty arm candy for a mob boss ends up being a lot nicer once he gets used to it. Or also maybe Johnny is just an unwitting civilian, maybe visiting Newark because he got lost on a trip to New York and catching the eye of Daniel, maybe getting into a fight but you know karate doesn't always seem like a great idea when there's a knife or a gun and our favorite California boy is definitely not in LA anymore. And Daniel doesn't seem dangerous, he's just a little punk, but then he realizes all the danger that can be hidden in an unassuming guy but that it's absolutely thrilling and maybe doesn't want to go back to LA.

Sid was 100% involved in a lot of sketchy business and wouldn’t hesitate to sell his pretty stepson for even just a dollar, so being able to get a good deal and get rid of Johnny? He’d have been crazy to pass that up. Johnny is happy to finally be away from his abusive stepfather, but he was terrified at the time when he realized Sid was giving him away to some (cute) stranger, a dangerous one at that, but he soon realized that Daniel meant no harm to him. He’s nice to Johnny; buys him presents and keeps him fed, even lets him walk around the city alone as long as he brings the knife Daniel bought him (it has "Johnny" written on the blade in pretty, cursive letters.) Daniel takes care of him like no one else has; Daniel looks at him like no one else has, like he’s beautiful and prized; of course, he finds himself in the mobster's bed and getting fucked stupid by him. which, of course, leads to Daniel buying an engagement ring (Johnny says yes just about a million times.)

Ooo and that second scenario. Johnny wasn’t at all threatened when Daniel approached him; he’s just some short, handsome guy, right? Wrong. Two men were standing behind Daniel while he flirted with Johnny under the guise of helping him figure out how to get where he needs to go, pressing up against Johnny’s side, almost against his back, and pointing at places on the map where he can find a phone or transport, rasping right in Johnny’s ear that he thinks Johnny is really pretty and that he could come have some fun with Daniel instead if he wanted, and sublty pushing his (big, really big, from what Johnny can feel) bulge against his hip, an abundantly clear message. Johnny pushed Daniel away roughly, assuming that Daniel was just making fun of him, and was briefly panicked when one of the men hovering around Daniel gave a warning peek of the gun on his hip to him, but thankfully, Daniel motioned for the men to walk away and was obeyed without question.

“Sorry, sweetheart, that wasn’t very gentlemanly of me—my mother would kill me.”

Johnny hates (loves*) this guy’s dumb, hot accent and his stupid, cute face. What the hell could someone that looks so innocent be doing to need some dude with a gun to protect him?

“What wasn’t? Getting your bodyguard to flash a gun at me?”

Daniel laughs. "I didn't order him to do that, and I'm really sorry for that too, but I meant I'm sorry for being so crass with you." He grins, handing Johnny a paper with his number on it. "I should take you on a proper date first."

#lawrusso #tw mafia #lol

[wolfiemcwolferson]

if ur still doing spotify wrapped fics, 5 pls!!

This is more Del Water Gap - Alone Together. You didn't pick a pairing, but this is screaming Maxiel at me. This is angsty and a little bittersweet. Previous F1 Journalist Daniel and Driver Max. (This got out of hand.)

Sometimes Daniel is in an airport and he catches a flash of a Grand Prix on a TV in a bar or he'll be out with some friends and he'll run into someone he knew from college and they'll ask hey, I thought you were doing that racing thing and Daniel will shake a little bit.

Sitting on a barstool in LA, waiting to meet-up with one of the kid's on the American USA team, he feels it now, the ache where F1 used to sit - the ache where Max used to sit.

But he gave it all up when Max gave him up and -

The kid shows, fresh-faced and eager and shakes Danny's hand. The article will be good, of course. Daniel charms and weasles and prods at all the right places and that's why he gets paid the money he does - in America, for sports he doesn't actually care about.

It makes him sound so dramatic, he circles back around to thinking of Max that night in his hotel - like he always fucking does when he's alone.

Max working up the courage to ask Daniel out to dinner throughout the entire season - Daniel accepting out of pity - Daniel falling hard and fast and furious and then basing his life around him - the man that was going to bring glory back to Red Bull.

It didn't matter how many times Daniel laughed it off and said don't die while Max was sneaking out of his hotel room and it didn't matter how many times Max and Daniel said it wouldn't happen -

Max went off and needed to play house with some nice girl and Daniel spent three GP's in a row hiding from him and he knew he had to go.

Because Max was the missing piece of him or whatever romantic bullshit he used to think about the two of them - the mirror of his soul, the person who saw the worst in him and loved him anyways.

Because it was the worst in the end. Daniel begging Max not to go and Max telling him he had to just for them to switch positions the next morning. Daniel shouting at him to just fucking go while Max cried on his chest and Max and Daniel shouting the awful bits of hateful shit at each other they had gathered up over a three year relationship -

Daniel puts on his running shoes and goes down to the gym so he can forget forget forget.

After LA, Daniel goes to New York before spending a week in Nashville and then he catches a game in Denver before flying home - to Australia.

Grace asks him four times if he's seeing anyone and then Michelle asks much softer if he's talked to anyone from the paddock lately.

Daniel books an earlier flight to his...well, he guesses it's his home.

There's a cabin in fucking Montana. Everyone had thought it was a joke until he did it - bought the damn thing.

Daniel has a joke about how he had traveled for years in flashy circles, but the truth is that he's an idiot pressing gauze to an oozing wound.

It had been a thing with Max. My contract will end when I'm only 28. I could...we could escape to America. Live in the middle of nowhere Montana, yes? All this money has to be good for something.

No one knows, of course. Someone would have intervened, probably. Scotty. Scotty would have intervened.

He's here until Christmas. Alone and working on the book he's supposed to be writing and - he's here until Christmas and then he'll fly to Hawaii and get ready to interview some flashy American Football College Kid.

He tortures himself and watches the last race of the season - wakes up at 6 AM to flip it on and text steady, ribbing commentary to Sam about his own commentary and Max wins, of course.

Daniel turns off the television before the podium.

He's in town buying a couple of propane tanks and more rock salt and some food. He does have to do that occasionally when Janet asks him you know who bought Gerald's old place? Daniel frowns and shakes his head. Thought it might be one of your fancy athletes. Moving in here because you can't keep your trap shut.

It's gentle, but only a half joke. It took Janet a full year before she would talk to him in more than one syllable answers.

He goes home - works on his book. Ignores the text Scotty sends asking Daniel to call.

Max Verstappen on standing in his driveway, hands shoved in the pockets of a puffy coat at 10:28 on a Thursday. Daniel knows the set of his shoulders and the slop of his face even this far away. No one else will ever look like him. No one else will ever have this kind of intrinsic draw on Daniel's entire being.

Daniel steps out on his front porch, wearing socks and a hoodie, absolutely freezing.

"What do you want, Max?" Daniel hears how exhausted his own voice sounds and he wonders if Max can hear it too.

Max is still walking towards him. "Scotty talks a lot when he's drunk."

Fuck. "Yeah, well. Everything he says is shit." Daniel says - finally talking because Max is at the bottom of the staircase, head tilted up to look at Daniel. "What are you doing here? Where's your car?"

Max shrugs, hands still in his pockets. Daniel hears his coat make that slick crinkle noise. "Don't like to drive."

The pieces fall into place for Daniel now. "Gerald's old place?"

"If you're talking about that luxury cabin down the road, yeah. It's mine." Max laughs at his own joke.

Fucking Scotty. Daniel's socks are wet. "You'd better come inside. You'll freeze to death and Christian will have my head."

Max is knocking his snow boots against the porch and he gives a little dry laugh. "What was it you always said? I was selling my 20's? Well, not anymore."

Daniel spins two steps past the doorframe where Max is. They're too close. Far too close. "What."

"There's never been anyone else, Danny." Max says in that voice. The one that preceeded something that would wreck him entirely. "I know you don't - but, maybe if you still -" He shrugs again.

Daniel sees it there. In his eyes. The love they had managed to carve out together back then - before when Daniel thought love could conquer all, when he wasn't so bruised by the hiding and the secrets and the way they had beaten each other against the rocks of F1.

Before they had become the water that broke on that rock.

"Danny," he says again, slipping a hand from his coat. "I retired last week."

Danny breaks this time, curling his head down into Max's chest and heaving a great big sob.

"I didn't have the courage then," Max whispers into his hair, hand on the back of his neck. "But I think I'd like to have the courage now."

"I'm not moving into that house, Max. It's half haunted." Daniel chokes out in between tears.

Max brings his other hand out of the jacket, wrapping it around Daniel, finally bringing their bodies together. "That is fine, Daniel. I already set up the New York Times subscription for this address anyway. I can do the crossword and you can cook me real bacon now since I am not in training."

Daniel laughs now because it all may change, but damnit if it all doesn't stay the same.

#maxiel #tiredtiredsharl #spotify wrapped fics #these are still open my friends #ask me ask me ask me

[blackhiil]

blackhill: songs i associate them too (part 2)

cinnamon girl - lana del rey

“but if you hold me without hurting me, you’ll be the first who ever did” it’s literally nat finally opening up to maria even though she’s might he scared.

don’t watch me cry - jorja smith

the whole song is just THEM! so angsty it’s insane, but it’s perfect for blackhill but this verse “I'm not crying 'cause you left me on my own, i’m not crying 'cause you left me with no warning. i’m just crying 'cause I can't escape what could've been. are you aware when you set me free? all i can do is let my heart bleed” literally makes me want to cry

high school sweethearts - melanie martinez

honestly, i’m just in love with this song and it makes me think about them. it feels like one of them just being open with the other about what they want.

lose you to love me - selena gomez

BLACKHILL ANGST BLACKHILL ANGST BLACKHILL ANGST!!!! they start a relationship before either of them are ready but eventually breakup. “and now the chapter is closed and done, to love, love, yeah to love, love, yeah to love, yeah and now it’s goodbye, goodbye for us” but they find themselves falling in love again years later when they’re both in better places.

miss americana & the heartbreak prince - taylor swift

i just think this song is very cute for them. to me, it’s from nat’s pov and “it’s you and me, that’s my whole world” “it’s you and me, there’s nothing like this” maria being nat’s whole world is very adorable

nyla - blackbear

this is 100% from maria’s pov. “i know that you're hurt, i know i’m to blame but i’m make it work, i’ll make you stay until that day I'm one plane ride away from new york to la” they’re having issues so nat goes to new york for a while (and bc she’s an avenger and duty calls) but maria and nat start to talk it out

strange love - halsey

little sneak peak from my band au, but this song makes perfect sense for them. everybody wants to know who nat and maria dating but nobody connects the dots that’s they’re dating. “they think i’m insane, they think my lover is strange but i don’t have to fucking tell you anything, and i’m gonna write all down and i’m gonna sing it on stage” natasha also happens to be getting ridicule from the media so maria writes this cause she’s fed up.

wish that you were here - florence + the machine

“and i never minded being on my own, then something broke in me and i wanted to go home to be where you are” both of them are more than okay on their own, but now that they’ve found each other, being alone how it used to be because they’re so used to each other

#blackhill #maria hill #natasha romanoff #maria x natasha #lesbian maria hill #marvel wlw #lesbian natasha romanoff #martasha #wlw #blackhill song association

[saltygilmores]

Thoughts While Watching Gilmore Girls, Season 1, Episode 13 ("Concert Interruptus")

What happens in this episode: Paris, Rory, Madelyn and Louise are paired up on a school project. Rory has an adventure outside of the usual Stars Hollow/Grandma's House/Chilton universe, going to a concert in NYC with the Chilton Crew. but several of them escape. We learn about Rachel for the first time and meet another Boy Jess who is hella sketchy. Episode 13: Rory and Lorelai have a conversation where it's implied there are no crackers in the house. Episode 12: What did I spy behind the toaster?

Don't tell me they ate all the crackers in the house in the span of one episode, because I won't listen to crackpot theories. Just a heads up, these Saltine crackers WILL become a running joke over the course of the next several episodes because I'm weird. And just wait until the first "Tomatos" sighting.

Lorelai's outfits, man.

Name your favorite GIlmore Girls Side Characters. Go! #ToiletKittens #PenisOctopus #DickRocket #Tomatos

Wow, I've seen this show several times through and I never realized the fucking thing had a name. Warning: Bridge Rage is coming. Isn't there anything else they could be raising money for? Like group therapy for the whole town? Lorelai showed up in a rummage sale sweatshirt and Luke had a total shitfit. Now I'm intrigued.

Oh, right. Her. Luke, Sookie and Miss Patty are all talking about Rachel like she's dead.

Sookie Replies: You didn't know about Rachel because she traveled all the time, and you had an 11 year old and you were just moving in to this house. Uhh what? One of the most significant storylines of this show, one that is hammered into your brain over and over again, is that they had lived in their current house since Rory was a small child, after living in the shed first. Where were they supposed to be living for the first 11 years of Rory's life? It's merely my legal obligation to point out any errors in continuity I find and that one is a big, gaping, massive hole. #Hole. Sookie goes on to say that Luke never talks about Rachel. Alright pal, it's been 6 years since you broke up. The Danes/Mariano men have got to learn the art of moving on and not stewing in heartbreak juices for years. Memorable Signs:

I do not understand the obsession with that fucking bridge. If only I could take a sledgehammer and finish it off so I never have to hear about it or watch them throw another corny fundraiser for it. Dear Stars Hollow: If your town didn't blow your entire budget on having a festival every week, you could repair that bridge. Hell, you could have a brand new one constructed plus several more. The fundraisers to fund the bridge repair cost more money to put together than it would take to actually just repair the fucking thing. BRIDGE RAGE! "Rory your boyfriend's no slouch either. 6'2 and feisty." WE GET IT DEAN IS TALL. Is it just me, but does it feels weird to anyone else when Rory talks about going to the mall or some other place outside of Stars Hollow. It feels like the people of SH live in a pod cut off from the real world. You're going to New York City? Is that safe for pod people? Is the atmosphere breathable? Do you think the Walmart Jess works at is in Stars Hollow? (of course it isn't, if it was it would have put Doose's out of business in a week).

"It's a Quarter on A String, it's a Love Thing... La La La..." How do you like my new song?

These bozos that M&L have their eye on look at least 25. That's not sketchy at all. That blond guy on the right is either really stoned or REALLY loves the Bangles.

Blond Guy With Sweater Paws and Girl in Oversized Fuzzy Green coat are fun. Did Louise just say the Child Predators were named "Jess and Shawn"? Wait, wait, what. Rewind.

Hahahahahahaha. I'm speechless!!! I really want to know how it came to be that Amy Sherman Palladino (or whoever) came up with this unusual name for a boy and liked it so much they used it twice (and not the much more common Jesse). This is why I love this show. No matter how many times you've seen it before, you'll always notice details you missed the last time...

That is a VERY good question, Rory. I'm trying valiantly to make it make sense.

Highly debatable.

We're all ears...

HIGHLY DEBATABLE. "His parents are not so great. He kissed me once on a dare. You don't know him like I do. I know he's only flirting with me to get to you but at least he's flirting with me." Ughhh. I can't stand this pathetic version of Paris.

Rory: Like meeeeee?

I don't know if this is Jess (I'm still dying over this) or Sean but I take back what I said earlier about him looking 25. He actually looks damn near 30.

These two! I love em!

I want a frog lamp. But burn that creepy clown.

He's trying, I guess. Bless him. Luke buys a set of sushi magnets for a nickel, so he just put five cents towards Taylor and his stupid fund for that stupid bridge. Screw him. Just kidding! The Good: This is one of my favorite Non-Jess eps. I thought Lorelai's handling of the incident where Rory's classmates go missing was realistic and well done. I love M&L. The sketchy bro being named Jess. Paris and Rory 4ever. Kittens in a Toilet painting. Lorelai's wardrobe. Blond guy with sweater paws. Something about Luke buying sushi magnets for a nickel was cute. Dean was only discussed and not seen. The Crappy: Paris' low self esteem and obsession with Tristan is tiresome. Luke hasn't gotten over a breakup that happened 6 years ago. The new: The first mention of Rachel. The first time the god damn fucking bridge gets a name. I'm tired of hearing about: Dean's height. The Bridge. The confusing: Major continuity error claiming Rory and Lorelai had only lived in their current home for 5 years. Cracker confusion.

#gilmore girls #lorelai gilmore #rory gilmore #sookie st james #gilmore girls season 1 #Concert Interruptus #Luke Danes #Sketchy Bros Named Jess #Denise Rewatches Gilmore Girls #jess mariano #Bridge Rage #Cracker Confusion #gaping plotholes #big silver dick rocket #bridge

[styxnbones]

4 for all for cass except for sects, for that one do 3!

ty for the ask! i always appreciate how much you like to hype up other ppl's oc

Essentials 4: not being in v5 they don't have any set predator type- but, since their Grip of the Damned means their kiss offers nothing but pain, they tend towards alley cat and sandman by necessity.

Life 4: in life, Cass already had the arrogance and controlling nature that would become their Malkavian madness, though before that point its debatable whether it was a straight up personality disorder. As for vices and addictions, Cass's vice has always and continues to be reckless overconfidence. She's always loved the rush of doing something she by all rights shouldn't be able to, defying expectations, and generally putting herself into and then escaping from dangerous scenarios- hence her nature as a Thrill-Seeker. She also had something of a recreational drug habit that has stuck with her in seeking out prey that is high, both for pleasure and for the sake of convenience.

Death 4: in LA she never had much of a coterie to speak of, but gained one when she left for New Orleans (aka the chronicle I played her in started)- who she rejoiced in inflicting her habit of giving shitty patronizing nicknames. Her favourite was Kristos aka Dirt Nap/Captain America, a gangrel fledgling who had been torpored since the civil war. He was directionless and gullible so she had lots of fun pushing him around. There was also Marcus (9-5/Marie O' Net), a stereotypically stuffy ventrue who had the audacity to have one dot in dominate and therefore earned Cass's ire for stepping on her toes. Clair ("Covergirl") was a mysterious and dangerous (read: hot) Tremere sent from New York to look into setting up a chantry, who Cass spent way too much downtime trying to find dirt on. And then there was Jean ("Socks-in-Crocs") a *very* rural gangrel who had literally the worst luck with frenzy rolls I have ever seen to this day and who consequently was held at arm's length from Cass. Broadly speaking she saw herself as the leader of this group, though she was happy to deflect blame for any fuckups onto Marcus since he was so keen to take charge. Other than that she was pretty buddy-buddy with a local Nos named Avery, though mostly in a 'keeping the competition close' kind of way, and towards where the chronicle dropped off she was making some contacts with a sabbat pack in the area.

Sects 3: which brings us to her opinion of the sabbat- which is largely dependent on who in the sabbat we're talking about. she was pretty chill with the pack she was getting to know- she admired how little they gave a fuck about mortals and how few roadblocks they put up for themselves in getting what they want (unlike many other kindred, especially in a cam city like New Orleans, who just love to make up secret rules) but she was also very aware that these guys were peons in the grand scheme of the sabbat and she held contempt for their lack of ambition (even if it made them more useful to her). As a whole, Cass doesn't buy the whole Gehenna-War-End-Of-The-World thing, but admires it as a tactic for keeping the masses in control. I think that she'd be unlikely to join the sabbat unless she got to jump in pretty high up the ranks, though she doesn't particularly like the idea of tying her loyalty to any one group. The thing that intrigues her most about the sabbat, though, is the idea of Paths of Enlightenment. Her sense of morality was already pretty deviated from the human norm even before the embrace, and since then attempting to cling to humanity has been thankless work (and largely pure luck- by all rights she should be way lower than Humanity 6 with the number of tests I had to roll) so shifting her mindset towards something else entirely probably wouldn't be too hard a leap.

Clans 4: Clan Hecata in interesting, since its something that has developed since her embrace. She had done some research on the Giovanni when she recognized her Kiss was similar to theirs, and found the history pretty fascinating. She generally appreciates the existence of the Hecata if only for the cover they lend her in lieu of any actual connection to them.

#vtm #cass oc

[lostloveletters]

We know for sure that Gloria misses the old days of being just "the other woman" and enjoying her life and limited time with Michael, spent mostly banging eachother around, with no responsibilities or expectations upon her. The question is: does Michael miss it a little too? Is he nostalgic for when Gloria was an escape from everyday life, an outlet, something different?

I imagine Gloria bored and annoyed at how her relationship with Michael has become, I wonder if she will come to confront him about the issue or if she will make him understand it with no words, like having fun with someone else not too secretly with the aim of getting caught and making Michael jealous and annoyed.... it would be exciting to see Michael get angry, lose patience and finally decide to please her, but just to keep her good one evening because obviously it can't be the same as before, now her role has changed.

I love this question so much! Gloria and Michael are so messy and dysfunctional, it’s so fun to dissect them with stuff like this🖤 I’m putting most of it under the cut because I got long-winded with this.

Gloria’s definitely unhappy with being pushed into the housewife role, domesticated for lack of a better word lol. The whole reason she went to Las Vegas to work in the first place was to avoid that in New York. She just wanted to be irresponsible and party for as long as she reasonably could. She never would have expected the summation of her actions resulting in marrying Michael, but it's not like either of them ever thought Kay would end things the way she did.

As for Michael, my reasoning for why he’d cheat on Kay in the first place is an ego thing at the heart of it. Yeah, Gloria's young and pretty, but her asking about the magazine article is the catalyst for his interest in her because it’s not something people have spoken to him about in a long time. With her he can kind of be that "promising young war hero" again.

By the time the affair actually starts, he knows Gloria’s not going to spread his business or directly interfere with his relationship with Kay. She just wants to have a good time, and at first, he does too, but he gets more attached than she does (which is why he “ends things” like 3 times in the first year of the affair. I went into that more here, but it's just messy)

I’ve been playing around with the idea of something happening between Gloria and Ciro because there’s a lot of tension there. However, she actually likes Ciro and considers him one of her few friends (even if he only has anything to do with her because of Michael) If she did cheat on Michael, it’d be with someone she has like no emotional investment in partly for spite and also because he'd probably kill whoever it was when he inevitably found out because he has eyes everywhere.

I think Gloria's kind of scared of Michael as a husband. The first chapter of the fic goes into this, but with that title he can do pretty much whatever he wants to her compared to when they were just fucking around. Like yeah he was technically her boss, but there were other places in Vegas she could work or even skip town if it became an issue. Would he kill her for cheating? No. But he could make her life even more hellish than she already finds it, and she’s not sure she wants to push it, especially since she really doesn't have an out (I didn't know this until recently, but no-fault divorce didn't become an option in New York until 2010!) 

Ultimately, she'd think her best option would be to intentionally and very obviously flirt with someone in front of him to get some kind of excitement back, but it's not like he'd tolerate that for very long. If they do have a conversation about it, they'll still be dysfunctional as hell.

#ask tag #ch: gloria #messy selfish miserable beloved gloria

[vvatchword]

Finally got to watch Escape from New York. I watched Escape from LA first and fucking loved it, only to discover that it is almost universally despised. (Come on, what's not to love about Snake Plissken surfing down a canyon for no reason?)

I see why people like this film. It's grittier, darker, smarter. There's something going on under the surface that is almost more threatening than the antagonistic forces in the film. It's deliciously anti-authoritarian, full of despair and yearning, campy.

I love how goofy Snake is. What kind of infantile motherfucker tattoos a cobra emerging from his crotch? Answer: the same kind of person who joins the military all gung-ho. I love how Snake barely talks and how you still get a feeling for how a war hero becomes a glorified bank robber.

I also saw lots of background elements that clearly inspired Hideo Kojima for Metal Gear, from settings to plot elements. Very cool.

Escape from LA is like a Saturday morning cartoon by comparison, which is honestly why I like it. That film ends with one of the most satisfying bangs imaginable. Which in turn made me think of another film I love whose forebear overshadows it: Conan the Destroyer.

Idk, sometimes you just want a colorful, campy trip, what can I say? I love Ray Harryhausen flicks and neither film is far from those.

#vvatchword

[kadelgstylo4adderallrevelations]

I would think this one would be e more as you see I was left with these teeth and my preacher he love my facebook he jump in you see iys corona virus times during the corona virus world shutdown new york Became escape from LA I had to kill alot of people with a phone I just hold this adderall blog but alot of people really don't want your humble narrator to find a way to survive being electronic with a weird tv show that I have to make or I fail a selective service usa drafting and everyone dies I didn't know people subtly get erased if I go off adderall and the 3 years on the street apparently eat my teeth look my story you have to know when you read is by a occupy wallstreet member we the modern hippies the neo hippies are here so please don't think I fucking off for a bit watch Trainspotting 2 by the way it tells us of switches in media of cameras that are font and frame rate laced changes that if you miss in the film industry after this 2022 year of my dorm room 215 east 23rd street apt.2223a1 (the only single dormitory in New res) ✔️ you die. Thos is the occupy wallstreet zuccatti 🏠 🛖 park

New york, New york

-the tent with the hello kitty stuffed annimal on top from hallmarks down the street by Century 21 manhattams #1 best kept secret in fashion downtown department store, I was next to Tiger and Star? Who were in High Times magazine and smoked 🚬 alot of pot and yelled "don't be that guy!" Teddy Mapes was 🧸 was the first to see me.

::THIS has been my occupy fashion NOVEL of the COVID19 world 🌎 shutdown for 2600 adderall a.d.d. blog "Little nemo on abc"

From the helm of the Germ epicenter of the world WHERE THEY PICKED JOE BIDEN A DEMOCRAT OVER NY INCUMBENT DONALD J TRUMP ....HAHAHA!! IN GERM NINE ELEVEN IN REPUBLICAN AMERICA!!!

It Blondoe-Atomoc here in Nukeleae Mayor Eric Adam's world here! TRUMP OF KKK,PORN AND TWITTER INSULTS IN RACISM? DEMOCRAT JOE BIDEN IN A NINE ELEVEN HEALTH CRISIS OF GERMS?HÀAAAAAAAAAAAA

-All for me! And this 24/7 blog and adderall legalization effort of me (Your 2011 Abbie Hoffman! Occupy Fashion ([email protected]) The very writer with the hells Kitchen alpha wave youtube at youtube.com/forecastmazyfilms

Blog title="Little nemo on abc"

art school student - school of visual arts - graduating class 2008

[oldgooddaysoldgooddays]

179

Sunday is centred around flying to New York, and N gets a crash course in my travel anxiety and time pessimism. We had no time to hit cafe du monde in the city but they have an outpost at Louis Armstrong airport, where we procure 3 beignets. I envy N and M who are flying “home” to La Guardia, while I’m just flying to La Guardia. I am aware that most of the viral videos of outrageous aircraft passenger behaviour happen on domestic US flights, and I gird myself for the worst, people screaming, breastfeeding cats, racist epithets, sudden death. In actuality it’s just an unpleasant 3 hours spent next to a kind obese man who checks American football results compulsively on the complimentary wifi. My back and neck hurt, though I enjoy how low domestic flights fly, and I take in the terrain of the deep, then shallow, south. If we go over where I was born in North Carolina I don’t notice. I think of E calling Spirit airlines “just lawn chairs in the sky”, and how easily this could be a Lana Del Ray album title We land, cab to city, hotel. Smoke illicitly, shower. The biting cold is impossible to escape in a leather jacket, make a note to splurge at Moncler the following day. Head up fifth to C's house to listen to her eat chicken loudly as she and our equally frail friend discuss personal trainers. I think how nice it must be to pay someone to emulate the inner monologue I have running in my mind 24/7, because at least the session, at some point, finishes We listen to songs from 2008 and nobody seems as entranced by Frank Ocean's cover of MGMT's "Electric Feel" containing the lyric “I’ve been meaning / to fuck you in the garden”. The truth is that C is in trouble financially, and seems unhappy with the context her gallery offers her work. I want to tell her she sounds ungrateful, that you can’t have Marc Jacobs and critical rigour simultaneously, that she shouldn’t have bought a loft she can’t afford. That I love her but she’s lost touch with reality a little, and maybe she should eat more and research tax evasion less. Oof, I wonder whether this is where our friendship begins to disintegrate at long last, whether I prized her for an attitude to life she no longer embodies, or whether I’m just off a flight and in a bad bad mood

[one-boring-person]

/Hyper/ specific but maybe a scene where Snake owes the reader money/favors/revenge and they come to collect after the events of efny? Could be interesting to see Snake struggling to cope after the fact (anger, sadness, trying to dull the pain, etc) and coming up against someone who does not care, but take it any way that speaks to you!! Love your writing!

Thank you for the request! I hope you like this!

No Choice.

Snake Plissken (Escape From New York/LA) x gn!reader

Warnings: swearing, mention of injury

Masterlist

Like my work? Buy me a coffee!😁

"Not now." Snake hates how quiet his voice sounds, the usual impassiveness he's long perfected broken after the ordeal he's been through. 

If the newcomer notices, they don't say anything, remaining sat idly on the chair by the excuse of a vanity table the motel provides for its guests. How they managed to find him is a mystery, but dread fills him at the sight of them, knowing full well why they are here.

"Another excuse?" They lift an eyebrow in the dim light, clearly uncaring as they drag their gaze down his beaten body. Smoke curls from their parted lips, the glowing tip of a cigarette jerking a little as they tap their finger on it, knocking ash to the floor. 

"A pretty fucking valid one." He growls as he stands in the door, wishing he still had his gun loaded, so he could at least threaten them into leaving. As it is he'll have to make do with empty words.

"Enlighten me." That tone, it's hard, indisputable. Clearly telling him it's not worth arguing his case but mocking him by asking anyway. 

"You don't care." Is what he says instead of replying properly.

"No, I don't." They don't deny it. Why should they?

Silence falls on the two for a moment, Snake considering his options as they take another drag from the cigarette, expression completely neutral and unreadable. He regards them carefully, finding himself drawn to the new scars adorning their face - they're shrapnel wounds, not the usual gunfire, the ugly markings looking like grim knots of discoloured skin on their left cheek. It's a striking look, not a bad one but intimidating and somewhat fear-inducing in any case. Nobody except this person has ever managed to evoke fear in him, not properly anyway. 

It's for this reason that he remains on high alert, worried that they might not be alone in the room. 

"What do you want from me?" He asks, even though he knows the answer.

"You know what I want from you." (Y/n) reiterates his thoughts, exhaling another mouthful of smoke into the tense air between them.

Snake shakes his head, "I can't go out again tonight. Not for another week at least. I'm injured too badly."

"Always something to put it off." They click their tongue, moving to stand upright in front of him, "This little favour you promised me isn't going anywhere, Plissken. You owe me and you know it."

"I know, but I physically can't-"

"Bullshit, I know what you're like." They spit in sudden irritation, voice taking a sharp edge, "The only reason you turn things down is because you're too lazy to do them." 

Snake doesn't dare state the other reason for his refusals, too tired to deal with the consequences. 

"Just, please…leave me alone for a week and I'll do it then." He sighs, giving them his most truthful look he can. 

They give him a cruel smile, cocking their head mockingly. 

"Did something go wrong this time? Or why are you so desperate for recovery time?" 

"I'm injured-" He starts, going silent as they wave him off with another click of their tongue.

"That same bullshit." They give him a look of grotesquely false sincerity, "Now, Plissken, I'm not asking nicely anymore. Come with me, or I'll make you. You don't have a choice in this."

His heart sinks at this, shoulders visibly slumping at the realisation that he really doesn't have any choice, and that he has to go out on whatever mission they've got planned for him. 

"Fine." His voice breaks again, eye dropping to the floor as they condescendingly reach over and pat his shoulder.

"Good boy." Their smile is full of cruel poison. 

#break writes #snake plissken x reader #snake plissken imagine #Snake Plissken #escape from new york #kurt russell