#I still can't gif darker scenes but anyways | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

rawliverandgoronspice · 10 months

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I can kind of see why Hyrule reads as imperialistic to you in totk, but why do they read white? Sonia is brown and rauru is a black goat. What makes the difference between them and Ganondorf so bad?

Hey, thanks for the ask!

So... I have an answer, and it's kind of in layers. So I hope it's fine if I kind of go on Journey TM where I figure out my own feelings on the topic alongside you, the person reading! It's long! Kind of meandery! Sorry!!

Also, I had written a great version of this reply to this ask that Tumblr fucking ate and I'm furious about it, so this version is slightly more annoyed as a baseline because of Tumblr and not the ask itself. But I got stubborn and decided I would rewrite the whole thing tonight. So.

Here we go.

Layer One: My Basic and Unfiltered Gut Reaction

My first, potentially unwarranted gut-level reaction would be: I kind of think it's a stretch to consider them POC-coded. Sonia gives me more tanned Ariana Grande vibes than anything else, but that's... I mean, I'm aware that there are brown people with lushious blonde hair and blue eyes out there, that race as USA-infused Internet understands it is Complicated (I'm half-brazilian, and even though I'm very very white and don't consider myself biracial but bicultural, I had people discussing my ethnicity to my face a non-zero amounts of time, including quite recently, including in my own family! so I super get that it's more complicated than what I make it out to be here). But given vibes don't count as an argument, I completely get + accept if that reading on her ethicity is therefore dismissed. She could very well be brown. Fine by me.

(so, I feel like I have to add this borderline-conspiratory reason why I'm suspicious of her skin color being considered a factor here, which can 100% be dismissed but I still want to bring it to the table: I've been to several meetings and heard about many instances where "diverse traits" are being handed over to characters with the explicit purpose of using that diversity as shields against deeper criticisms of core aspects of the storytelling instead of fixing the storytelling itself, and honestly it could very well be the case here. I really hope it's just the team thinking Sonia would be prettier with a darker skin tone, because her design is genuinely lovely and I really like it, wish she didn't die like immediately and had a character arc of her own, but. Imagine the kneeling scene with two very white ladies and everything else, etc. It might be overly paranoid of me, but I can't help but squint a little bit in this specific instance, especially since the biracial trait here is so toned-down that it's barely there and barely committed to anything. Which would also make a good argument against this suspicion too tbh! Anyway. Just wanted to bring that up so you get the whole picture of where my brain is at.)

Rauru... Okay. Here's the thing: I can't unsee The Rauru. The original one I mean (and his Skyward Sword Gaebora counterpart), aka: the White Patriarch of all times.

(this has nothing to do with anything but Link's little recoil animation here is so funny to me, like he looks so shocked and his nose is so pointy)

I do think that removing the origins of this character from his DNA for TotK is kind of overly convenient when discussing this iteration, especially when his role in this game is basically a mixture of OoT Rauru and the Unnamed King of Hyrule (and every king of Hyrule that came after). I mean, okay sure maybe the Unnamed, Unseen King of Hyrule wasn't white but... it's obviously not true, right? And while I understand this is a different iteration of that character, many characters in the series maintain their base ethnicity across different reimaginings (even Blue Pig Ganon remains a gerudo at heart post OoT, at least in the way we keep on understanding him). And beyond this, given the fact that Rauru retains this energy of a Founding Father (in the largest possible sense), I feel that, at the very least, that patriarchal energy is extremely important to his character to a core degree.

But even so, yes. Rauru is now indeed a Goat Man. Not only is he a Goat Man, but he dresses in ways that are very inspired by mesoamerican cultures; undeniably so. So that would make him at least mesoamerican-coded, right?

I mean... I guess? I guess. Sure. But. I have now to introduce the Layer 2 of my argumentation, which is that...

Layer Two: Zonai Culture is Hylian Coded

So. Pretty bold claim I know. Let me explain.

Now I certainly do not want to say that mesoamerican civilizations are not *everywhere* in the aesthetic inspiration for the zonai culture in Tears of the Kingdom; I'm sure these real life references are overflooding the moodboards, from the color palet to the symbols to the artstyle, the costumes and the buildings. It's the main way the game communicates zonai-ness to us the player. And it's great! I wish they had went even harder in that direction (I think there's even pretty dramatic differences between the zonai ruins on the surface, much more interesting imo, than what was done with the actual zonai architecture at its peak).

But now, I will ask a question that I asked myself often while playing. What is zonai culture, beyond the feathers and the indented patterns and the swirls and the dangly bits? What characterizes it? I would say that zonai civilization is primarily interested in automation, technology, mining to develop said technology, and things that float in the sky. Beyond this, and from the limited perspective the game gives us through Rauru and Mineru, we see a society ruled by a patriarch (neutral term, it is just patriarchal in nature), married to a woman who is a priestess and doesn't seem to hold an equal amount of power (she doesn't speak as much, seems content to handle the religious side of things), who values collaboration and engineering prowesses, has an army, servants, robot servants, administrates other races through, to be docile and go the game's way, collaborativeness... It's Hyrule. It's just Hyrule, except older and with a different paintjob; but at heart, the style of society upheld by Rauru is very (eerily?) similar to what we get to know in the TotK/BotW era. Actually, this version of Hyrule seems extraordinarily similar to the Hyrule we get to see in BotW pre-Calamity: replace the zonai technology with the sheikah's, and what's the difference --except that this later version of Hyrule isn't trying to pass itself off as perfect? Zelda doesn't experience any kind of culture shock. Even the language seems to be basically the same. It is Hyrule, because it is. It's the origins of the kingdom. This is the whole point of the zonais: being that familiar thing that we know and love, except more pristine and more glorious and more mysterious so we can be sad when it gets destroyed.

So is it aesthetically inspired by mesoamerican cultures? Yes. Does it evoke specific details about said culture? The way politics and religion interconnect perhaps (unless we consider Rauru coming from the gods as such, but it's nooot super specific and not really elaborated upon)? What that culture valued, or what we assume it once valued? Cultural shortcuts we tend to make with these cultures, for better or for worse? I may be extremely uncultured here, and if that's the case I apologize, but I never really saw any of the aspects highlighted as the core pillars of the zonais commonly associated with either mesoamerican ancient civilizations, or current living native decendants of these civilizations. The biggest connexion or shortcut I see is the "mysterious ancient advanced civilization", which is pretty vague and was honestly more convincing in BotW.

Then of course, it doesn't invalidate that connection. But now, as a point of comparaison, to see what happens when Zelda takes active steps in coding one of their fantasy races... Let's take a look at the gerudos, shall we?

(Urbosa appreciation break. She's just so freakin cool look at her goooo!!! okay now we can keep going.)

I have said my whole spiel about the gerudos about a bajillion times now so I will try to make it quick. My tl;dr is: gerudos were always meant to be culturally disruptive. It's their whole point in the Zelda series. I won't rehash the whole thing about the crescent moon, the orientalism etc, but I think it's important to remember that they are meant to be considered foreign in a way no other Zelda race ever is. What I mean by this is, if we return to OoT: they are the only race hostile to Hyrule enough to not only consider and carry out an invasion, but to forbid entrance to their territory if you are not one of them. They have a different (apparenly evil-looking) god and their ears are rounded when everyone else is some sort of elf, their script is different, their cultural values are different, it's a weird semi-matriarchy where the man-king's occasional patriarchy has a very different social role than the king of Hyrule even if we don't get to see all the details... Won't return on the thievery and the 90s islamophobic kick of that time period, but the gerudos were very obviously crafted to be culturally deviant to the Hylian norm; their difference so great that getting accepted by them is an actual fighting and infiltration challenge. And even though they are much friendlier in TotK/BotW, they are still, by far the most innaccessible and different race out of all the rooster of, and it's worth mentioning, fish-people, bird-people and rock-people. They are the only one with their own language, their own strict rules that oppose your freedom as a player, a series of side-quests that directly address the subject of culture clash and differences; and, even then, they still parallel the real life western fantasy about the Orient TM (even more-so in TotK I would say, which I didn't love): the locked-in harem foreign men are forbidden to enter. This core idea is so entrenched that it becomes gameplay.

When it comes to Ganondorf, the parallel remains, more present than ever: in that game he gets to embody the foreign, cruel, brutal, cunning, manipulative, uncomfortably feminine at times, envious, physically intimidating, oppressive Man of the Desert in a long tradition of Men from the Desert and the rich legacy of literature and movies that portray them. It's not new to TotK, to be very clear: but TotK did double-down on the trope at the cost of Ganondorf's specificity as a character instead of questioning the trope that birthed him the way the series had tried to do in the past (even TP wasn't that bad, doing away with a lot of the baggage altogether --for better and for worse).

So to me... saying that zonais are mesoamerican-coded, in a world where we simply do not actively interact with these cultures all that much anymore (not at all to minimize the very real oppression of their descendants and the extreme and sickening violence their ancestors were met with to be extremely clear --I'm just saying that the violence wouldn't have worldwide cultural resonance in the same way and I don't think would have much reality in Japan unless, again, I'm saying dumb things and in that case please do correct me), or the extremely mild and non-invested way Zelda handled these cultures (to me it's much more costume than coding), positively too (good!), and comparing them to the active coding of the gerudos (and especially Ganondorf) as a means to equalize them as "basically the same thing" feels... a little off to me.

But! Now we're getting to the last layer!!

(you have no idea how long I searched for this gif, I typed "Ganondorf kneeling" in the gif search, like a fool, and parsed through much, much horniness to finally find my little dude anyway layer 3!!!)

Layer Three: It Isn't What Actually Matters Now Is It (at least according to me, the person writing this post)

Honestly, I don't really care whether Rauru and Sonia are white-coded or not. They could be, they could not be, cool by me either way. I don't really care if the zonai culture is meant to stand-in for mesoamerican cultures for Real for Sure or not, and heavily doubt it was done to increase diversity (otherwise Rauru wouldn't be, like, a Goat-Man but just a brown man). I do appreciate the visual diversity of the cast of NPCs, that hylians can look like a whole number of people and it's really cool Hyrule is moving into that direction instead of being very typecast into a sort of Japanese-ish representation of western middle ages/fantasy/fairy tale thing.

But at heart, what bothers me between this whole dynamic has less to do with whom is coded as whom than the fact that this game twisted itself into knots to tell a very suspiciously clean story about its complicated world and complicated history, and I feel like it's completely fine to ask for more than the bare minimum of visual representation and question the way these characters get to interact with each other and how their real life struggles are meaningfully talked about in the worlds Nintendo spend millions crafting? Sometimes, what they do is already great! Sometimes it's half-great! Most of the time, it could be so much better --especially when some of these subjects have been talked about to death for over 25 years (sorry to beat that dead horse one more time btw)

At the end of the day, the story itself is strange for many reasons. The power dynamic between the characters is attempting to be several things at once; maybe it's not on purpose, but either way, the world TotK paints is a strange one that only holds itself together if we accept to take it at face value. Which we don't have to.

And to me, TotK felt particularly shallow in that specific department of representation due to the whole... Imperialist Vibes thing (the other ask about this is queue'd, it's coming!), which nullified a lot of these efforts for me. It's not only about who's represented, but how they are represented as well, and, very importantly, why.

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scarefox · 6 months

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Some BL babies under the Playboyy trailers: "But can the actors ever face their parents again?" and "BL is doing too much now"

I don't even know where to begin with this. Like literally porn actors and / A(dult)V(ideo) idols exist and they still have good relationships with their parents and friends. Some parents are totally fine with their GROWNUP kids to go into the adult industry. SOME (grownup!) "kids" may not even care for their parents opinion. Gown up people should not have to ask their parents for permission to act in certain media. Sex scenes acting and even literal (modern) porn and sex work gets treated professionally within their industries. So why can't the rest of the world treat it rather with respect?

And the Playboyy actors are not even porn actors (I think. but wouldn't matter if they were) but 'normal' actors who just play pretend sex scenes. Literally most of hollywood and Cos actors have sex scenes that are on the same level of graphicness as they are in Playboyy (like Game of Thrones????). They still all show their faces in public and infront of their family.

Some people are simply not that prude and shy. It's that easy 🤷‍♂️

And some parents may be totally fine with the stuff their kids do, but simply don't watch it or skip it if it's too awkward. I think that's more common actually.

ALSO it annoys (and secondhand embarrasses) me so much that so many BL babies act like Playboyy is the first and only explicit gay themed drama ever existing on this planet. Not even in the box of the BL genre are they the first (maybe only for the thai corner... but even there it is not much more explicit than KinnPorsche and Love in the Air so far, it's just more scenes all together due to the plot setting). But meanwhile the whole LGBTq film industry all around the world is that explicit too. Some more, some less. The ones that are tame are made for a rather general audiences, younger audiences or to appeal to cis-straight audiences even. But a lot of LGBTq stuff is explicit like that. So that's not new?

The LGBTq movies and series I have seen in all my life are wild. Also not always wholesome, nor 'perfect representation' either (a lot of gay movies are kink fantasies or trauma themed, some of them are so much darker than any 'toxic' BL but yea... ). So idk what this annoying discourse around BL and good representation is supposed to be in that context. That ALWAYS sounds to me like "but we have to make this queer content in a way that the homophobes and queerphobes can watch it by accident without finding us weird and disgusting"...

And regarding Playboyy I don't even know if that's supposed to be BL aka if it's supposed to please the general BL audiences or if it's not rather purely from and for LGBTq folks (+allies) in and outside of the BL genre bubble. But as I said before already, the genre borders are melting at some projects anyways to the point that it's hard to find the differentiating factors (for BL I would say the only fixed point is that it has the romance (romantic fantasies) genre at it's core, anything else is optional). I feel like a lot of people assume that BL has to be for teenager's. Meanwhile not even the origins (manga) and the source material (usually web comics and novels) of today are all for teens. That genre is diverse and for ALL audiences of ALL ages. And it's GOOD that more parts of the audiences can get their own niche content now! Like I for example am originally not that much into sappy romance and marriage plots but I still watch it since it's with characters I can identify with more than the heteronormative & gendernormative stuff from the west (I also learned a thing or two maybe, like the fact that I may like sappy romance plots sometimes after all).

Anyways, Rule of thumb for anything in general: If you don't like it, then it is not made for you. So stop complaining about stuff that is for others* 🤷‍♂️

(*unless it's proven to be harmful or disrespectful, as in the tone of the whole story, not the action of characters that are supposed to be dumb sometimes.)

#that turned into a little bit of a rant but it's just my thoughts #playboyy the series #discourse #bl drama #lgbtq

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fan-mans · 8 months

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Can I ask you for Aran Ryan x Glass Joe hc's? (Aslo thanks again for those Hondo x Sandman earlier)

Oh my god ily (platonic) so much for asking this!!!! (Also ur welcome :P)

Anyways, on to the hcs!!

How it happens:

Okay so first thing's first, Joe is terrified of Aran before they get to know each other. Granted, he's scared of the whole world circuit cause he doesn't know them but Aran is defo the scariest because of the violent cheating.

When Joe finally bridges the gap between the minor, major, and world circuits, he's still hesitant to talk to Aran cause, again, violent cheating plus bursting with energy… but there's something about him, something Joe can't quite put his finger on, that's just fascinating about Aran. Aran ends up approaching first and they get on really well.

So they get to talking and find out not only do they have a lot of interests in common (Love for horror media, generally alt/gothic/darker music, love of edgy aesthetics, interested in creative hobbies, etc.) but they also share many similar life circumstances (Both having been denied high school, having to work very young, poverty, disability, being trans, etc.) and end up bonding.

Aran already had a bit of a crush on Joe, but it only deepens with the new friendship. Joe on the other hand has Aran slowly wrap around his heart and he's drowned in love before he even realizes.

The confession always ends up being kind of chaotic and dramatic but overall very sweet and perfect for both of them :)

When everyone else finds out holy shit there is chaos. Kaiser's upset cause he had a crush on Joe and now is pretty bitter towards Aran (They all talk it out its fine). Sand also had a crush on Joe but lets his feelings go and is supportive along with the rest of the world circuit. Hippo, disco, and bear are hesitant about it but Hondo ends up making them chill. Don tries to get in on dating them and is rejected. And tiger is busy comforting kaiser but he's honestly kinda happy for both of them cause kaiser is now free.

The relationship goes pretty smoothly from there with little to no major hiccups and both influencing each other to be better though not entirely different people.

Other random hcs:

Pet names all the time

Aran has a habit of staring at people he likes very intensely and creepily. It's like that one scene in the shining.

Any normal person would not like this. Joe is not a normal person and enjoys it a lot, feeling like he's being showered with praise and affection whenever he feels Aran's creepy stare on him.

Aran also has a thing where he draws whoever he's dating all the time- its especially intense with Joe as he has at least a couple sketchbooks entirely dedicated to him.

They ended up accidentally learning each other's languages- Joe mostly from Aran talking to the dog and writing in Irish and Aran from Joe's fancy french films and books

They wake up close to the same time- early in the morning, though Aran wakes up closer to sunrise.

Aran picks Joe up and carries him around all the time- both love it.

Love getting into wild shit together and going for drinks. Going to shows or scenic moped rides/walks is another good contender for their dates.

Aran and Joe are both big dancers and musicians, so dancing and singing together is a favorite pastime at their apartment

These two RUSH to move in together- it leads to a lot of chaos with their pets but things cool off quickly

They often do house chores and cook together

Joe doesn't care about Aran's cheating for the most part, that's Aran's choice to do- he's in love with the man outside the ring after all, but he does tell Aran to never do the horseshoes and flail thing again

Both have a lot of self worth issues- Aran believes he can't be loved romantically no matter what he does so he chooses to embrace his ugly side to push people away while Joe believes that he must hide himself to even be fit for society and serve everyone to no end

In turn, Joe likes being spoiled and doted on (From being forced to serve past partners to get affection) and Aran enjoys being able to serve and unambiguously show his affection (From being denied the ability to show past partners he loved them and told he should be grateful when he was)

They do a lot of work on each other. Joe helps Aran feel safer around people/being loved as himself and not cheat as much while Aran helps Joe become more willing to embrace his weirdness and stand up for his own well being, especially to people he cares about. Joe also helps Aran get help for all his mental issues and helps him feel safe going to a damn therapist.

Aran is super supportive of Joe's love for dark/macabre things and eventually convinces him to embrace being goth. From then on its all punk/goth solidarity

Joe constantly steals Aran's clothes and Aran tends to wear Joe's pants (Even if they're a little short on him)

They also take care of each other after matches a lot

Joe keeps track of things like appointments but Aran does all the math and date-keeping in the relationship

Cuddling is a must for both of them

Joe really likes when Aran grows his hair out, he love rubbing up against his beard like a cat, especially cause he can't grow much facial hair of his own

Aran has been trying to convince him to get a shared tattoo, to no success (So far)

They have a habit of making each other clothes- Joe repairs and embroiders things for Aran and Aran knits for Joe

They've babysat Joe's niece and nephew a few times and Aran's younger sibling and are DEFINITELY both thinking about kids

#glass joe #aran ryan #burnt bread #punch out #punch out wii #headcanons #ask game #omg thank you so much!!!#I adore talking about my hcs and these two especially #it's just so much fun #these two weirdos are perfect for each other #my hcs

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theobjectofyourire · 2 years

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I'm a huge Daemond shipper but I like my content to be toxic with non con elements I'll be honest.

In the show , Aemond is very awkward and even borderline scared when face to face with the whore at the brothel so the concept of Daemon using Aemond's uncomfortable, sexual insecurities to both humiliate and degrade him is top tier perfection!.

P.s ' I only like bottom Aemond '. Thanks for letting me share ☺️

oh, we're talking spicy things today!! 🔥obviously nsfw and discussions of darker elements, so pls read with caution!

I do love a good sweet fic, but I gotta say...there's something about the toxic vibes that just hits different. And especially with Daemon/Aemond because their fates are so tragic, their souls so entwined. There's such a fine line between love and loathing, between admiration and envy. I think they both find it easier to lean into their anger. And honestly? I think they both get off on it.

I can just imagine them being in the same castle at some point during the Dance, maybe Winterfell or Storm's End or somewhere in the Riverlands. And blows have been dealt by both sides, they're both deeply hurt and filled with rage. But they're here on this sort of neutral ground, as it were, having agreed not to harm one another and exchanging seething glances from across the room.

And then, late at night, one of them goes to the other's chambers.

I feel like it would be Aemond. At this point in time, Daemon isn't quite as reckless as he was in his younger years. Aemond, however, still has his moments of pure, unbridled chaos, especially when near the Rogue Prince. He goes to Daemon's chamber, dagger in hand and though he's uncertain of his own intentions, he can't seem to stop himself.

Imagine his shock when he finds his uncle isn't abed. Instead, he's waiting for Aemond.

Both have blades, and skillful as they are, both manage to strike their targets, resulting in tattered clothes and a few bloody slashes, though none are deep enough to be of any concern. Soon, the blades are forgotten and it becomes something far more primal, all fists and teeth. They're on the floor, Daemon on top of Aemond, his hands around his throat. And Aemond all but whimpers.

This is where he wants to be.

Despite the betrayal, the cruelty, the war...in this moment, all they want is each other.

There is nothing soft in their touches. Every kiss is claiming, and by the end of the night, they'll both be covered in bruises. Aemond, admittedly, sporting more than Daemon, and he'll cherish every ache. Every reminder of the agonizing pleasure given him by his uncle.

OKAY SORRY I GOT REALLY DISTRACTED.

I 1000% agree Aemond definitely loves to be degraded (he also loves to be praised, but humiliation just hits all the right spots). I think he has a lot of deeply rooted shame because of the way he was raised in the Faith. Not to mention Aegon took him to a brothel when he was so young. He has a lot of complex feelings around sex.

I love the idea that Daemon plays with that. Daemon loves making his nephew blush. He loves watching how shy he gets, batting his lashes as he sinks to his knees. Aemond shivers every time he's called "nephew" or, his personal favourite, "boy". Especially if he says it in High Valyrian.

The way Daemon would whisper in his ear, gripping his silver hair to the point of pain. "Do you like that, Taoba? Do you like when your prince uses you as he wishes?"

In terms of bottom Aemond, I felt similarly until I saw ep10. Everything changed after this scene:

He's so primal. His movements are almost feline and he's so supremely confident. As much as I love bottom Aemond, I can't stop thinking about dom Aemond...I'm really tempted to write some fun Aemond/reader things...

Anyway, sorry for the long post!! I got distracted by the spice and now I have like ten more fic ideas lol. Shout-out to anon for starting this wonderful convo and seriously y'all, keep 'em coming. I'm LIVING for all of this. Let's talk about Daemon. Let's talk about Aemond. Let's talk about Daemond.

And let me know if I should write some Aemond/reader stuff. Maybe I'll write some headcanons for Aemond/reader or Daemon/Aemond. Who knows! But the fics are coming and please keep sending your thoughts, I'm eating them up!

#daemond #daemon x aemond #asks welcome #asks and replies #targcest #i really don't know what this was #but i'm living for it

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lemonluvgirl · 2 years

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Memories

Takes place in a Canon divergent AU where Katniss was captured and hijacked instead of Peeta. Smut warning ⚠️ I've had this one on the back burner for a while and I don't think I'll ever use it. I've kinda scrapped the idea but I still love the scene so I thought I'd post it for fun anyways. Please enjoy 😉

Katniss

I kick open the door with a frustrated and completely fed up motion. I charge in, ready to lecture Johanna about taking the plunge and facing her fears and all that stupid shit she tried to sell me earlier.

“Just get in the damn tub you chicken sh--” I start to say as I clear the door and turn towards the shower/tub.

But instead of a terrified, naked, and filthy Joanna hesitating near the tub, I find something completely different. I choke out a strangled gasp, I am not prepared for the sight that greets me.

Naked.

It's the only thought that my mind can process as I blink in disbelief.

He must have been taking a bath. What had Johanna said about letting Deen take a shower in the morning since the water wasn’t working in his sector? If Deen had showered in the morning...then I guess his roommate had come to bathe in the afternoon.

Peeta.

I caught him in the middle of lifting himself out of the tub. His blond hair looks darker when it's wet, and I can’t believe for a second I never thought of that. In all the times I tried to reconstruct my memories of him, it never occurred to me. It's plastered over his forehead in damp waves. His face is in a state of total shock, eyes wide, mouth agape, cheeks flushed and rosey. He’s quite a sight.

And it's so beautiful it hurts. Something in the back of my mind starts to flicker and burn.

I want to look away, I want to run out, to save myself from the inevitable episode, but I can’t tear my eyes away. I can’t look at his face anymore though. Instead of doing the smart thing and getting the hell out, I do the opposite. My eyes snap back in his direction. I look at him again. All of him.

Thick muscular arms poised on the edge of the tub, lifting his large strong body, and holding it suspended like my mind, caught in this moment that seems to stretch on and on.

I look. I stare. I gawk.

I ogle him.

My eyes follow the path the drops of water are taking as they slide down his firm chest and stomach. His skin is pale, much lighter than my own. There is blond hair, very light and almost invisible that changes the path of the water as it trails down his skin. I can’t stop my eyes following that descent, down and down over his chest, his torso, his stomach and hips…

Down to the place where my ravenous eyes meet what I've been wondering about ever since he told me some of the memories were real. His flesh twitches under the weight of my survey of his body. Dark blond curls with an almost copper tint make my hands tremble in response. I can’t remember if the hair felt soft or not under my fingertips.

What had it been like? To touch him? Surely it couldn’t have been all bad, based on the frequency he once told me about. Why do something that much unless there was some good in it? I feel like an idiot for wanting to find out. My head feels like it's splitting open, yet I can’t tear my eyes away.

He begins to harden under my gaze, and it should shock me, or even disgust me. I’m not even sure what about this scenario he finds erotic. I’m still fully clothed. I admit to myself that I’m surprised at his reaction, but I’m not afraid. There's this feeling in the air I can't quite describe, but it isn't the usual animosity that crackles about me when he’s near, or anything close to it. Neither of us has said a word or moved an inch. He’s staring at me, waiting for me to do something, say something. But my eyes catch on his left leg. The one that ends in a stump of amputated flesh just above the knee. There is something about that...something…. I know I’m not afraid or repulsed. It's the opposite? Maybe? I feel my heart beat haphazardly and a deep low throbbing pulse starts in my lower abdomen. I wonder incredulously for a moment why the sight of this part of him affects me more than all the muscles and thickening...

But all I can think about is….

They never twisted the image of his fully naked body in my mind. They had never found a body double to fool me with. His eyes and shoulders, hands, and lips, yes. They had taken everything I’d confessed that I found attractive about him on tape and turned it against me. They had focused on the surface images, the things most noticeable. But not the rest of his naked body. After all, how does one describe every inch and dip and curve of a former lover? I could probably sit and stare at his naked form all day and still not find the right words to sum him up. And right now I’m looking at the trademark blonde hair on his head. I’m not caught up in his riptide blue gaze. I’m drinking in the rest of him with my eyes.

I hadn’t counted on it liking this much.

That was the problem. My brain was short firing off against the images, and the words associated with them.

Fuck, and screw, and rut, and all the other words that they had drilled into my brain. Their words. Making my memories feel cheap and disgusting. I can still recall their insults, ringing in my ears as I tried to get a grasp on this moment. Those words felt like they didn’t fit when I looked at him. The thing they told me he and I had done when we were together, that we fucked, it felt…inadequate to describe what was simmering in the back of my mind. I didn’t know if it was because the truth was much better or much worse than what they had tried to brainwash me into believing. I couldn't picture it even though he was here in the flesh, naked and hard for me, and getting harder by the second.

My mouth felt suddenly dry. That feeling between my legs had grown quickly from a throbbing pulse to an achy insistent drumbeat pounding away inside of me with the rhythm of my own heart. I felt a little dazed.

My eyes refocused, I opened my mouth to say something, and his hand slipped on the edge of the tub. I lunged forward before he could faceplant on the hard tile.

I took the brunt of his weight when we fell, even though he tried to put his arms out to catch himself.

I got the wind knocked out of me. He seemed to be in shock. His blue eyes boring into mine incredulously. I looked away as I tried to breathe. Finally, I gasped and took in a lungful of air. He noticed he was crushing me, and scrambled to get up.

But my hands wrapped around him of their own accord, stopping his escape. I deliberately trapped him on top of me.

The delicious heat of his body, and the weight of him over me, it felt of all things in that one moment….familiar.

I held him to me, pressed him back down onto my chest, as I wrapped my hands around him, caging him to me in a way that made my mind and body shiver. The tile felt cool and cold against my back through the gray jumpsuit. But the front half of my body felt like it was on fire. But it was a good kind of heat, an intoxicating kind, like white liquor scorching through my veins. And I was only too happy to burn at that moment.

Familiar…

So familiar…

What a wondrous word. What a feeling. After weeks of searching and failing and seizing and fighting and drinking and failing some more, finally...this.

I abandoned all caution, said not a word in explanation as I let my hands run free over the expanse of his back, his sides, his ass, down and down, until I was brushing my hands over the back of his thighs.

When I felt the end of his left leg under my fingertips, he flinched. But it did something to me. It changed things. And suddenly I knew. They had never faked this. The other one, NotPeeta, hadn't been so committed to his role that he had let them cut off his leg.

This was real.

My mind and my body both felt it. The war that had been raging inside me stilled, like a moment of peace when the eye of the storm passed overhead.

And suddenly I didn’t want to lose it, this feeling. I want to keep it and turn it over and look at it and figure it out. I wanted to swim in it for hours and days. I wanted more.

And want changed from desire to need.

So I gently caressed the end of the leg he had lost because of me. And with my other hand I pressed his hips down into mine. And with my mouth I started trailing sloppy, wet, hungry kisses across his chest.

“Wha???” Was his only startled reply. But I proactively cut off his questions as I lifted my hips and bucked into him. Eliciting a deep strangled groan from his throat. I liked the way it sounded. So I started kissing that too, his neck, his jaw, his collarbone.

And it was like being in two places at once, or in my case in the moment that it was happening and also reliving things in my mind. There were memories that were not linear or sequential or even intact. No, these were like tattered pieces of old maps, knit together with images and words to try and form a coherent picture. In my mind I had a bird’s eye view of an image that was too large, too monumental, and too haphazardly pieced together to take in at once. It confounded me….

But the feelings, they shot up and unfurled before my mind like fireworks, bursting into a million pieces and raining down over me.

I felt him, breathed him in, tasted him...

I remembered.

I knew him again.

The texture of the skin of his back underneath my hands. The lines of his body as he pressed into mine. The way he smelled right after a shower. Clean and fresh but still masculine and a bit earthy like the species he used to use when baking.

Oh...baking….I remembered that too.

Cinnamon and dill and lemon zest and anise and so many others, on his clothes, on the collars of his shirts because he’d always wipe his hands on the back of his neck when he finished putting the finishing touches on a recipe.

Not Peeta had never smelled as good as the real thing I realized.

I licked the hollow of the real Peeta’s neck as he moaned against my hair, and it felt like triumph. His breaths were short and ragged against my ear. He was so hard now, I could feel him all steel and hot heaviness against the top of my thigh.

I didn’t want him against my thigh.

I wanted him...I wanted to know, to remember what it felt like….I parted my legs to allow him to settle between them. He seemed startled by my shifting positions to allow him access to the space in my center. I countered his trepidation with a well placed roll of my hips. He hissed as if in pain and screwed his eyes shut for a second, as he panted.

I was wet, sopping actually, after that. It would be humiliating if he weren’t so hard.

He was ready, so was I.

It was a quick decision, but a sure one. I reached down between us and shoved my pants and underwear down my body, as far as my arms could reach without unseating him.

But he broke the unspoken rule and said something then.

“Katniss? What are we doing? What is this?” He asked in an incredulous voice. I searched my mind for an answer, anything really that would make sense. How could I tell him I was actually trying to make sense of things I didn’t understand and this was part of that?

“It's….whatever we want it to be... I...I remembered something. I remembered...more than just one something. I remembered it felt good to have you. That….that feeling. I want to have it again.” I finally managed to get the words out, but they were so stilted, so vague, I wasn’t sure they had any effect or gave any real answers.

“It's too dangerous. You could have an attack-” He began to say, his brow crinkled in worry as he tried to lean away, and I bit my bottom lip. I wrapped my leg around his complete one to stop him from leaving. I didn’t want to stop because of fear. Fear owns everything in me these days. And I didn’t want this moment, this feeling to be one of them.

“My head feels calm. Peaceful for the first time in weeks. It's my body that’s on fire now…” I tell him and he inhales a sharp breath.

“Shit, don’t say things like that…” He replies, his fortitude waning. His eyes locked on my mouth.

“Why not? It's true. That’s what you wanted isn't it? For me to be able to be calm around you again? To be able to touch you….” I ask as I run my hands up and down his naked skin. It makes him shiver.

“I didn’t want...not like this, not out of nowhere. You can barely stand to look me in the eye sometimes!” He exhales loudly, but doesn’t pull away. If anything he leans into my touch.

“That’s what I’m trying to tell you. It helped me, seeing...everything else, the rest of you. It helped me remember…” I say as I massage the end of his severed leg gently. There is scar tissue there, I can feel it underneath the surface of the skin. That is familiar too. And it makes me want him all the more.

“What do you remember?” He asks cautiously. His eyes are full of trepidation but also a longing so fierce I can feel my body respond readily to that look as more wetness seeps out of me. I exhale shakily and grin, because if he was hoping to be dissuaded he should have asked a different question.

“How it felt to have you on top of me, your body over mine.” The words made him dig reflexively into me, and I arched against him. He looked slightly embarrassed at his overtly sexual response to my words but I wasn’t. This was good, I decided. And I kept going.

“The smell of your skin. The taste of it. The way we fit together. The way your eyes used to close shut so tight when I was on top….” I trailed off as he slammed his eyes closed, as if he was trying to ward off the memory. He groaned when I pressed my palm flat along his spine to keep him flush against me.

“How warm I was when we were together. The feeling of your hips moving with mine. The way you tasted in my mouth….all of you…” I whispered the last part in his ear and I felt him jerk above me, I responded by digging my nails into his shoulder blades to hold him to me.

“Holy fuck...Katniss…” He murmured against my lips, desperate and pleading. For me to keep going or to stop, I didn’t know. I didn’t think he knew either. Then his eyes flew open, and he sucked in a breath.

“I can’t! What if you get hurt? Just because I couldn’t keep it in my pants-” He began angrily chastising himself before we’d even done anything. I fought the urge to roll my eyes. He pulled back slightly, supporting more of his weight with his forearms on either side of me, readying to lift himself off me.

I decided I’d had enough of the arguing. While he had been trying to talk himself out of it, I‘d been working my underwear and pants further down my body until I had enough leeway to widen my leg’s position.

He was hard enough and I was wet enough, I knew this instinctively. Even if I didn’t exactly remember everything about the sex we used to have clearly, I knew enough of the basics. So when I raised my hips up in a spectacular display of accurate positioning and wanton recklessness, he realized a little too late what my goal was. I took him half inside me with one thrust of my hips against his. He gasped deliciously at the same time I did.

Then, he cursed long and hard, as he struggled to keep still. I lay panting underneath him, trying to get accustomed to the feeling of being filled again. He was stretching me, and he wasn’t even all the way in yet. It almost made me want to laugh at all the times Johanna called me a quasi-virgin since my experiences and partners were so limited. Maybe she had been right in a way. I certainly felt tight and tense from underuse or maybe anxiousness.

I really didn’t know how long it had been since the last time I’d had sex. Probably a good while. At least since before I got captured. I could probably ask him, and maybe he’d actually tell me, when this was over.

But then again, maybe it didn’t really matter. All I really cared about in this exact moment was the feeling of him filling me.

I rocked against him a little and he gasped. Then, as if sensing the battle was pretty much lost, he relented and finally pushed himself all the way in, with a half pleased, half frustrated groan. Then it was my turn to gasp again as he hit home deep within me. He swallowed the noise as his lips crashed over mine. I was only afraid of kissing him for half a second, because the sensation when he began to move his hips took over completely. I felt him, in me so deep. I lifted up to meet his thrusts, once and I began to see stars, twice and I moaned like an exquisitely wounded creature, thrice and I shattered completely.

The feeling was wonderfully annihilating.

“Fuck, you’re coming! Oh...shit...it's been too damn long-'' He managed to choke the words out as I gripped him relentlessly, my internal muscles spasming hard and fast. He sputtered on his words, even his groans came out broken, they died out in his throat as I moaned and gasped under him. It was intense, so intense, my orgasm seemed almost aggressive, even to me. I was thoroughly surprised when he managed to hang no and not finish. But I could tell by the way his body was shaking that he had just barely held back.

He stopped moving entirely, even held my hips still so I couldn’t move. I whimpered under him and I hated the horribly weak sound as soon as it escaped. But he just hushed me and hugged me to his chest with one arm while he was still propped up and keeping most of his weight off me with the other.

“I don’t want this to be over in five minutes.” He tells me in a soft voice as he bends to rest his forehead on mine.

I breathe against him deeply, trying to find a way to tell him that’s actually what I need. I don’t want to give my mind time to override my body and trigger a flash. I don’t want time to over think. I just want to feel him, because right now feeling him is unlocking things I thought I’d lost forever.

“Peeta,” I say with a shaky breath, and he tenses, even his name on my lips causes him to shudder inside of me, “don’t stop. I want to remember. I don’t want to give it time for the shiny memories to catch up. I need….please.” I beg, and close my eyes to try and rid myself of the embarrassment from having to ask.

“Darling,” He breathes against my lips and I gasp quietly, I hadn’t remembered that endearment. But it too sounded familiar. I reveled in the sweet knowledge of it. Tucking it away, this thing that was both old and new to me.

“Whatever you need. Always.” He tells me before capturing my mouth again and stroking me with his tongue, as he simultaneously started stroking inside of me in deep, slow motions. I sucked the kisses from his lips, wondering if this might be the only way I’d be able to kiss him now. Only during sex? When I was distracted and my brain overridden by endorphins, probably.

He was a good kisser. I thought absentmindedly, as his tongue coaxed mine into dancing with his for a few moments before his building rhythm had me panting and shuddering underneath him. He groaned, and adjusted his angle, so that his pelvic bone hit me just right.

I moan, louder than before and he curses as he sucks on a tender spot near the pulse point on my neck. I smile, as hazy memories of him cursing surge up, and crash over me as he drives me on. It's strange, the way I automatically lent myself to his lead. But I didn’t think I have ever felt so safe. I couldn’t remember the last time I felt secure like this.

And that was the thought that pushed me over. I fell, swiftly and completely unraveled around him. I was further undone by the ease and familiarity he displayed with my body as he moved in time with my climax, drawing out my pleasure and multiplying it. It shook off the ever present shadows of doubt and hopelessness in that moment until I was weightless and unburdened. I sucked in a deep shuddering breath, like I usually did after they resuscitated me during a waterboarding session. But this time my lungs didn’t ache, I didn’t vomit up a liter of water, and the only slightly alarming moisture on my face came from a few tiny drops that fell from his blond bangs as he rocketed between my thighs, shouting his own release above me.

I sheltered him in my arms as he finished, relishing the way his lashes fluttered delicately against his cheeks which was at odds with the way he had gritted his teeth while in his throes. Finally he calmed, and we lay quietly, the only sounds being our ragged breathing and our thundering heartbeats.

He opened his eyes, very close to my own. And I felt like someone shot me through the heart.

His eyes were so incredibly blue. They were like nothing I’d ever seen before. And without a speck of green in sight.

I leaned up and kissed him softly. This amazingly, caused him to choke out a quiet sob that he immediately tried to muffle and tramp down. But his face was so close to mine I could see the moisture welling up around the rim, and spilling over his bottom lashes. I rubbed my hands up and down his back, soothingly, unsure what to do or say. I didn’t really understand why I had brought on these tears. I for one felt incredible.

But maybe I had been different? Maybe it wasn’t like before? Maybe it wasn’t any good…

The ugly dark claws of the doubt and guilt I had had a moment’s respite from, slammed back into me.

“I’m sorry...if it wasn’t….I don’t know...maybe I’ve changed-” I began in a slightly humiliated whisper that bordered on anger.

“What? Katniss, no. Don’t think that for a second! You’re perfect, so perfect. I’m...I’m just happy. Sorry for acting like an idiot and a-a-”

I leaned up and kissed him again, not wanting to know what insult he’d use on himself. I was just relieved I hadn’t monumentally screwed up the first time I had sex since my brain got scrambled. He kissed me back softly, and discreetly withdrew from my body. But he didn’t break the kiss or try to leave. He just kept kissing me like he never wanted to stop even though we were both more than satisfied.

The kiss was more than gratification, more than hunger, it was like sealing something profound.

Which was ironic considering I’d pretty much just jumped him without warning and we’d ended up screwing on the bathroom floor.

Which uhhhh now that I thought about it… wow. How did that even happen? And what the heck was wrong with me? I’d been spending way too much time with Joanna.

“You must be cold. We should get off this floor.” He said with a slightly concerned smile when he finally broke away. He reached out with his hand tentatively and stroked down the side of my cheek with the back of his knuckle. I closed my eyes. He had done this before too.

There was another memory wrapped up in that motion. It was peaceful and content and heartbreakingly sweet….

I could almost feel the silk of the sheets beneath me, almost recall the lingering scent of our sex hanging in the air...

Then again, we’d just had sex in this room. So maybe my sense of smell wasn’t harkening back to old remnants of memories. The tile was a little hard on my back, and cold. I blinked away the foggy reminiscence and smiled back up at him. It was like his heart was in his eyes at that moment. He was so beautiful. But he had just enough masculine features to also be handsome. It was strange. Actually being able to look at him up close after not being able to look at him for so long. I wondered when my mind would switch back into hijacked mode. If the chemicals my body produced because of our sex was currently keeping the shiny memories at bay, like the morphling did when they showed me tapes of our past, how long did I have before it all caught up with me? I reached up my own hand to caress his cheek.

And the action felt bizarrely more intimate than what we’d just done minutes before. Our gazes locked, and he seemed to be searching for something again. I didn’t know what he was looking for. Maybe he had his own blue sky that always seemed just out of reach. We both started to say something at exactly the same moment, when the door banged open.

“Brainless, I forgot to mention Loverboy’s gonna come by later-” She starts to yell loudly as she turns toward the tub.

Her eyes catch on us wrapped up together on the floor. He’s naked and I’ve got my pants around my ankles. But at least he’s still covering my naked half with his own body, and Johanna’s eyes light up with a wild manic glee.

“Well I guess he already came.” She says with an evil smirk. Peeta makes a kind of odd croaking sound, but doesn’t seem to be able to speak. Johanna, seeing our obvious discomfort, begins to laugh her head off.

“Jo, get the hell out of here!” I scream at her when she doesn’t budge from the spot after laughing for a full 10 seconds.

“I knew this would happen! I called it!” She yells in triumph when I’m about 5 seconds away from getting up and kicking her ass not caring about being half naked. But then she just winks over at Peeta, and with a very pointed last glance at his bare ass, she turns around and leaves.

“That couldn’t have gone worse.” He says with a groan as he finally rolls away and lifts himself up on shaky arms to sit by the tub. I hurriedly pull up my underwear and pants with mild embarrassment. He rubs his right arm a little, and I realize then that his arms are probably sore, since he had to put most of his weight on them during our entire encounter. I flush at my own thoughtlessness. Without his prosthetic it must have been hell on his good knee. And yet I hadn’t even noticed anything amiss with his rhythm during the whole encounter.

“Here,” I say as I reach over and grab his prosthetic and hand it to him.

“Thanks,” He says gratefully. I watch in fascination as he fits it to his leg.

I go to the counter to grab his neatly folded up clean jumpsuit and towel and when I turn around to hand it to him he’s already standing and staring at me.

Well...now things are just awkward. And he’s still naked. I blush like an idiot even though we just had sex. I quickly handed him his clothes and towel without meeting his eyes.

“I need to change too,” I say looking down at my jumpsuit, which is now wet all along the front where he was pressed against me.

“Oh, yesh sorry about-” He says in a slightly awkward, slightly amused tone.

“Not your fault,” I interrupt before I bolt out of the bathroom.

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shenanigans-and-imagines · 2 years

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Do Eddie and Lucy go to their (super super) senior prom? It's definitely not Eddie's scene, and Lucy already went once (I went to my junior and senior prom and tbh I would've been just fine only going once but that's just me), but I'm curious about how that night goes for them whether they go to prom or not.

In my ideal world where Eddie is cleared of all charges, Hawkins is saved and everybody is nice and safe; absolutely

Lucy is the one to ask Eddie to prom

She knows it's not Eddie's scene though and assures him that it's okay if he says no, they'll have their own date night

She already went with Steve as a friend her junior year and actually had a really good time (she likes having an excuse to dress up, wear make up, dance and just hang out with her friends), but she'd like the chance spend this one with her boyfriend

Eddie, by contrast, never went to his prom, even during his first senior year; he never nailed down a date and didn't see the point in showing up, especially when he knew he was going to fail and repeat the year anyway; he spent those two proms selling drugs behind the gym

He thought about asking Lucy during his super senior year, but Steve beat him to it; he didn't want to admit he was jealous at the time, but he definitely was

Lucy sells it hard, saying they'll dance and Robin is taking Steve and Nancy and Jonathan will be there, it'll be fun

Eddie is still a bit reluctant, but he knows Lucy will love it, his friends will be there, and he's actually graduating. Fuck it. It could be fun, and if it isn't, he knows Lucy won't mind ditching part way through

Lucy makes her own dress like she did when she went with Steve; it's fun for her and makes the occasion special

Eddie doesn't rent a tux, but he at least puts on a suit with a button up shirt and tie; he swears the tie is strangling him

Eddie pulls up in his van to pick up Lucy and for the first time feels self conscious about it; he almost wishes he asked Steve to drive them, of course he loves the van, but this feels different somehow

When he gets to the Henderson's, Mrs. Henderson wants to take a million pictures

Dustin is 100% being a shit about seeing him in a suit, and Eddie definitely gets him in a headlock just in time for Lucy to step out of the bathroom, having finished her hair and make up

Eddie's brain stops working for about ten seconds at seeing her; he can't even breath

Lucy ditched her usual pastels for a dark red, floor length strapless dress, her make up is also a bit darker and dramatic to match

For the view alone it's worth it

Mrs. Henderson starts cooing and won't let them leave until she gets a few dozen photos before finally letting them go

They get to the dance and Eddie is ready to go inside but not before Lucy stops him, loosening his tie and unbuttoning the first few buttons

Eddie is quick to make a joke about helping take off her clothes too, but Lucy waves it off telling him she can see his suffering in that suit

She makes some final adjustments and smiles up at him, telling him that now he looks like a rock star

Eddie kisses her then, grinning like an idiot; they're in for a great night

Robin and Steve are there, just like Lucy said, as well as Nancy and Jonathan

Robin quickly finds Vicki, Steve seems happy enough to just talk with some of his old highschool buddies and dance when asked, Jonathan and Nancy don't spend a minute apart and Lucy and Eddie alternate between making each other laugh by making observations at the punch bowl and Lucy dragging him to dance with her

The six of them, all find a table, spending the whole night talking and laughing, occasionally switching partners for a dance and just enjoying possibly one of the last nights all of them will be together

It's a night to remember

#stranger things #stranger things oc #eddie munson #lucy henderson #eddie munson x oc #eddie munson x henderson!oc #eddie munson x henderson!reader #steve harrington

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pyreofsunflowers · 1 year

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What I watched this week 3/13-3/19

this week was a little skimpy because I had to work so much, but fret not I still have plenty of stuff for y'all

The Shining (1980, Dir. Stanley Kubrick)

Did y'all know I go to the "overlook" (The Timberline lodge up in Mt Hood national forest) every year in the summer? It's a beautiful place. Anyways you'd think with that I'd have seen the shining by now, but nope! This was my first time ever watching it! And man - what a film! Nothing beats a well made horror movie, in my humble opinion, with that sweet spot blend of the meta-physical and the physical threats, threatening, stylistic cinematography, and a small-yet-solid cast of characters portrayed by talented actors really giving it there all makes for such a satisfying watch!

I've never read the original novel, where most of the subtext and themes of those movie -obviously - are drawn from, and I likely never will as I generally dislike fiction. However. I still found the themes permeant and the subtext moving despite not having it in full context. That, in my own opinion, is what makes the Shining such an effective adaptation - although I am rather uninformed as I've only ever heard people talk about the book.

Definitely one of my favorite horror movies -5/5

Enemy (2013, dir. Denis Villeneuve)

Okay so I'm just gonna be frank - I am bad with metaphors and symbolism. I can understand character growth, plot structure, timelines, cinematography, lighting, peroid accuracy, and all sorts of more technical and object elements of a movie. I mostly critique based off of these things, I stay in my lane. It's not that I can't ever understand a metaphor or pick up on any forms of symbolism, it's just not really how my brain works.

That being said, I still really really enjoyed this movie. It was a well made slow paced pysch. thriller that tackles adultery and cheating in a way I've never seen a movie do before. Villeneuve's style, as always, adds such a rich, amazing, and lonely air to the film - one which I think helps enhance it's message.

To condense, this is a film about double lives, about two drastically different halves inside one body. It's about secrets and hiding and ultimately letting the facade all down and the chaos all of that will cause in one's life (illustred quite well by the ending scenes of the film.)

I can't really describe this film, just go watch it for yourself. Unless you can't stand spiders. 4.5/5

Halloween (1978, Dir. John Carpenter)

After marathoning all 6 Scream movies over the course of 2 weeks, my hopes were really low for Halloween. Specifically because Scream, at least the first one, is a pretty self admitted satire of tropes Halloween brought to the table. But I was really surprised with how good this one was!

I don't really know why? Maybe it's because I don't tend to super love what is super popular? But I'm happy to say Halloween holds up and is a genuinely creepy slasher. John Carpenter's slow, meandering style really lends itself well to the genre - making the final kills feel well deserved and establishing a true sense of fear in the audience. Especially with how hidden Michael Meyer's is from the camera for the first 2 acts.

This films lighting and cinematography are also on another level, the way the film gets both literally and tonally darker as the day drags on, the way Michael is always kept in the shadows, the intimate, stalker-esque camera... It's amazing!

Me and the friend I watched Scream with are doing the same thing but for the Halloween franchise now, but less frequently cause there's no upcoming film. So stay tuned as I work my way through 9 more fucking Halloween movies.

This movie was really well made, though not something I would consider a personal favorite. 4/5.

Breaking Bad Season 4 (2011 shrn. Vince Gilligan)

So I'm just about finished with season 4 and hollllyyyyyyy shit Vince Gilligian is a mastermind. I've really been enjoying the plotline with Hank catching up to Walt + Gus, and am really excited for the payoff in S5. Jesse's arc continues to carry the show and I want nothing but the best for this man. Please oh god Mike just help this man he NEEDS it.

The scene where he went back and cussed out his old rehab therapist was *amazing* and really hit home with just how far gone he thinks he is and gives you a really good look into his pysche. Speaking of Pysches Walt's undoing is finally starting to rear it's head and boy howdy am I ever ready for that clown to kick the bucket. Fuck that guy.

I also really enjoyed the Gus backstory, and Max's death is probably one of my favorite scenes in the entire series (is that a spoiler? i don't think so...) Anyways brba continues to be a masterpiece and you'll be seeing more of dis.

#Js film diary #cineblr #film #movies #movie review #horror movies #steven king #stanley kubrick #the shining #denis villeneuve #enemy #john carpenter #halloween #micheal myers #slasher movies #breaking bad

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madaboutmunson · 2 years

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I Only Wanna Be With You (Part 3 of 11 of Let Me Call You Sweetheart)

Warnings for the entire story not just this chapter: Darkfic, out of character Eddie Munson, alternative universe, present day, Death, abuse (emotional, mental and physical, harassment, violence, torture, imprisonment, coersion, unrequited love, drugs, alcohol, illness, blood, gore, food disorder, mental illness, vampirism, hypnotism, weirdness, the upside down, bats, monsters

@munchabunch

You stumble back into the carnival, still hyped about the ride, "I can't believe it! We have to add that to our set!!" Jenna enthuses.

Harley laughs, "Most places only let us play 20 minutes, Master would take up almost half of that"

"But we can be ahead of the curve. The game isn't out yet, and when it does come out, well, already be able to play Master, people will be biting at the bit to have us play their dives," Terry says, holding Harley by the shoulders and then turns to you, "Think you can Master it on lead?" He wiggles his eyebrows at his lousy joke as you roll your eyes.

"I can give it a shot", you agree, and the rest of the band cheer.

"You know I saw something today, and I dunno, I think it's the answer to making it," you say dreamily.

"You saw hard work and perseverance", Jenna laughs.

"No, nothing as logical as all that." You grab your phone and show them the guitar, "This!"

"An old guitar?" Terry says, confused.

"I can't even describe it. I saw it and just felt like, this is it. The answer to everything. She was just hanging in the window there" you wave towards the 2nd hand store.

Harley takes your phone, "This is a BC Rich Warlock. I'm not sure it's exactly right for our sound." She says, looking it over again.

"I know it in my gut Harley, just like when I saw that squire, and it led me to all of you. But, this was just way more intense." You say, remembering gazing over it in the shop.

Terry frowns, "But that's why you love your strat, right? It's special?"

"So where are you gonna get the money? It's like $600, and it's battered to hell." Harley adds.

Jenna holds her arm gently, "Maybe they are right. They were right about the guitar, the job, and us. This might just be the level up."

You smile wide at Jenna and take your phone back, "Anyway, wanna do the walkthrough?" you say, putting your rubber gloves back on in an attempt to change the subject.

"Yeah!!" Terry shouts, jumping on your back, "Onward!"

"You gotta watch your face on my bat, dude", you chuckle, giving him a piggyback to the entrance.

Inside there is a mixture of scenes set up for photo opportunities with the games' bosses and some live actor parts where they jumped out and clean scared you to death.

One demodog animatronic made you jump so bad you fell into the gnarly tree next to you, and as you got up, you nicked yourself on something.

"Damn! Wounded by foliage!" You laugh, showing the others.

"Ouch, dude. That looks deep," Harley says, holding your hand up.

"Ah, tis but a scratch," you say, laughing, wrapping it up in a bandana from your pocket.

Terry is running over to the giant mind Flayer model and pointing at it enthusiastically. He holds out his hand to Harley, "Mrs Weller?" She runs over with Jenna to get their picture taken.

You have a look around elsewhere. Photos were not on the cards tonight; you could hear your father say another money pit in your head.

You sigh and take a little stroll around, and that's when you see the set of the model of the guitarist on the trailer. His head is thrown back, holding the guitar, mid solo.

You quickly take your phone out and compare it to the guitar in the store. It looks almost the same, but the body colours are switched, and the woodwork is much darker overall.

You take a closer look at the model, the guitar is just a prop, not playable, but it still looked incredible.

"A real beauty isn't she," a voice says from behind you. You spin around quickly. It's the guy from the ride.

"She sure is", you nod, unable to contain your smile.

He looks you over and smiles back.

"I'm sorry about being weird earlier. I didn't recognise you. That's the first time I've seen any visual promo material for the new game" you apologise.

"Oh?" He says, tilting his head and folding his arms.

"Yeah, it was pretty stupid of me. It was the first run of the ride. Of course, some of the cast would be in it." You say faux face-palming yourself, "It's a real honour to meet you" You extend a handshake at him, forgetting about the bandana on your hand, "Ah shit, sorry."

He takes your injured hand in his own and opens up the bandana carefully. He takes a deep breath, "You should probably get that cleaned up properly."

"It's fine, really. It's only a scratch," you say, trying to sound tougher than you were.

He lets out a soft laugh, "Is that so?" He ties your hand back up gently, you can almost taste a tension between you, but you are unsure what kind it is.

"Say would you like to play her?" He asks, stepping backwards and standing at his full height.

"Who?" You say confused.

"The guitar?" He says, grinning widely.

"I thought it was just a prop?" You ask.

"Oh, this one? Yep, that's not real. But I happen to know where she is." He says coyly, "Wanna meet her?" He says, looking at the ground and then into your eyes.

You look back at your friends, who are in another photo queue, and then back at him. "Is it far?" You ask.

"Oh no, it's right behind the backdrop. They'll probably bring her out later for some clumsy-fingered oaf to play." the corner of his lip twitches as he says it.

"Will we get in trouble, and is it free?" You ask, concerned.

His smile widens, "With me, no one is going to give you any problems, trust me. I believe she doesn't charge on the first date". He raises an eyebrow and laughs.

You look back at your friends again. Terry gives you a wave and acts out, being annoyed at how long the queue is. You smile and give him a thumbs up.

"You know what...that would be amazing!"

He pushes his elbow at you to link his arm, and you accept.

You step behind the displays to the backdrop and step through it. It feels like you pass through a few curtains all at once until you get behind the scenes. The floor is filled with a subtle smoke machine, creating a low level of mist around a small stage area.

On it is the set-up from the ride, a bunch of amps and resting against them was the guitar. Your pulse races, and you want to say something, but all that comes out is a small whimper.

"Go get her then," he says, unlinking your arm, guiding you forward with his hand on the small of your back.

You nervously look back at him as he waves you on.

You take off your gloves, shove them in your back pocket and pick up the guitar gently. A hum from the strings rings out as you do, reverberating through your entire body, mind and soul.

You look the guitar over, its pick-ups glinting at you. Finally, gently plug it into the smallest amp and drape the strap around yourself.

She drops down between your waist and hips, and you feel a magnetic pull from the guitar's body, drawing your form to it. It feels like heaven.

It then you realise you've closed your eyes and have just been standing there for a while. You shake your head and laugh nervously, "Sorry, I'm not sure what happened there."

He says nothing, just moves his hand to indicate 'carry on.'

You reach into your back pocket, find a pick, and gently glide it from the pick-ups to the headstock. The guitar lurches and roars in the most beautiful way you've ever heard. It felt like kick-starting a giant motorcycle.

You look at your hands. They are shaking. Then look over at him again. He's closer now, "Go ahead...play something", his dark eyes glint in the low light.

"I'm sure I won't do her justice," you say with your words, but playing this thing is all your hands and brain can think about right now.

He smiles broadly, getting closer still, "She will let you know if she doesn't like it. Don't you worry about that"

What was he talking about? Was he high? Were you high?

Your hands are already positioned before you've even thought about what you want to play.

You laugh, look down at your hands, and say quietly to yourself, "Really? That one?"

You oblige your hands and strum the opening riffs of 'Highway to Hell'

You look up again, and he's closer again, this time with a sly smile and tapping his foot to a non-existent beat.

You botch a chord because the bandana gets in the way of the strings, and pain surges like an electric shock up your arm.

"Jesus Christ", you exclaim, shaking your arm.

"Told you," he says, laughing.

You stand there panting for a minute, looking him straight into his almost pitch-black eyes.

"Maybe, she's not for you," he says, stepping forward to take the guitar from you.

You feel yourself scowl at him, put your pick between your teeth, rip off the bandana from around your palm, and launch into the solo.

And that's when it happens.

You hear the whole song all around you, a 360 spin into a wall of sound, all the other instruments, as the guitar howls, and you sing along with it.

Singing was not something you did. That was Harley and Jenna's department. You'd never even heard yourself sound like this.

You're screaming the outro as your fingers dance across the strings.

"I'm on a highway to hell," you say quietly and drop to your knees, careful to hold the guitar, so she doesn't hit the floor.

You shakily take her from around you and place her back where she was. You rub your eyes, look around and hear a slow clap from the amps. He's leaning against them, biting his lip, looking at you expectantly.

You gulp and wipe the sweat from your brow, "Where can I get a guitar like that?" You ask with desperation.

He pouts, "Oh, this guitar...well, she's one of a kind..." He starts

"Well, how much is she" you snap and then quickly slap your hand over your mouth.

He smiles devilishly, "She's not for sale, I'm afraid, but..."

"But what?" You rush up to him and grab onto the lapels of his leather jacket, "But what??" You repeat.

He is not phased by your antics and gently strokes your arm, "She wasn't made alone. She has a twin" his eyes sparkle directly into yours.

Your eyes go wide, "I saw her. I saw her today! I knew it!" You feel like you've lost your mind.

"Oh, you did?" He smiles and runs his tongue over his teeth, "Well, isn't that such a delicious coincidence."

You look down and realise you are still gripping onto his jacket. You let go and step back, laughing awkwardly, "I'm sorry, Erm, I don't know what came over me, I think Erm...yeah, just all the excitement from the night and playing the guitar."

He smirks at you and smooths down his jacket, "Oh, no need for an apology, Y/N, my dear. I do love a good show. Maybe I could come to see your band sometime?"

You smile back at him, "That would be great...oh but um...do you like metal?"

He cackles, holding his sides, "Oh, I do like it here." He says quietly to himself and then turns back to you, "I do partake in metal, yes."

"Ah, good, that's kind of our genre." But then, something strikes you, "Hey, how did you know my name and that I was in a band?"

He laughs, "Well, you told me, of course, don't you remember?" He looks puzzled at you.

You laugh, but genuinely you didn't remember doing that at all. "I guess I did", you shrug, scratching the back of your neck awkwardly.

"Well, I've had a ball, but I've got places to be. I'll see you around, honey," he says, walking away.

"Hey, what's your name?" You call after him.

He spins on his heel, still walking away backwards, "Call me Eddie. Everybody does, darling."

#eddie munson #stranger things #eddie stranger things #eddie the freak munson #eddiemunson #stranger things fanfiction #eddie x reader #fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic

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beyondxmeasure · 4 months

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As a fellow Aquarius I love that you can't follow the rules. I was gonna ask top ten but thought that might be to much. I am interested in your whole top 18 though. My top shows are in no order

Cold case. I honestly lost count of how many times I have watched this show.

Suits. This show introduced me into the fanfic world and I haven't been able to leave.

House. Grew up watching this show. It will always be one of my favorites.

White Collar. Just did a rewatch and I still holds up.

New York undercover. I used to watch this with my dad. So I reminds me of that time.

Resurrection Blvd. Again something I watched with my dad. But I love boxing and hate that I can't find it on streaming. I own the first season on DVD so manly thats what I'll watch.

The Mandalorian. Honestly hadn't watched anything star wars ever but my little brother was obsessed. He had heard about it and since he wasn't able to watch had me write him about it. I needed up really liking it.

Currently watching the new percy jackson series and am liking it so far. Also started The Rookie and am enjoying it.

Ok I just realized I like mostly crime shows. That would make since given my childhood of watching America's most wanted every Saturday night. Also documentaries but those aren't tv shows.

I need some fluffy shows any recommendations? I have never really looked into them.

Yes, I definitely see the trend! I have not seen any of the shows you’ve listed unfortunately. I did go through a true crime phase but that was more with documentaries and podcasts. For a time I was really into SVU and all of the ‘Chicago’ shows (Chi Fire/Med/PD) but that’s about it. White Collar interests me a little because after Fellow Travelers I’m kind of jonesing for any Matt Bomer content.

Anyway… for the remaining faves that didn’t make the cut. Here they are in no particular order…

Boardwalk Empire- of the two post WW1/roaring 20s era tales, this one pulls me in more- the music, the costumes, characters, the feel of it all. Even though it’s the underworld of the prohibition era, it’s more enticing.

Peaky Blinders- The darker, grittier and slightly more violent post WW1/prohibition era tale from across the pond.

*Downton Abbey- For Violet Crawley’s clap backs alone.

*Call The Midwives- I don’t have kids, don’t want kids and don’t particularly care for them but somehow a show about nuns delivering babies in the East End of London in the 50s just fills me with joy.

Deadwood- Wild West shenanigans and they say fuck a lot. Like, a lot. The interactions between Al Swearengen and Mr. Wu is worth the price of admission. Basically just anytime Al is on screen is gold.

*I Love Lucy- I grew up watching Nick at Nite and loved all those classic B&W sitcoms but Lucy was always my fave.

*Our Flag Means Death- gay pirates, what’s not to love?

Sons of Anarchy- motorcycles, mayhem & murder. It’s a wild fucking ride, but worth every mile—buckle up.

*Shrinking—a show so brilliantly funny with such a stellar ensemble cast you almost forget it’s about a family dealing with grief. It’s a bit of a slow starter but stick with it for the real payoff. Harrison Ford high on gummies was a high point for sure.

*Sex Education- worst name for a show that’s about so much more than that title makes it sound like. I feel like a lot of people slept on this show because of the title or the idea it was just some throwaway teen sex comedy. Far from it.

*Parks & Rec- if The Office is my wife, then Parks is the sidepiece I’m hiding uptown in a luxury townhouse and I’ll never give her up.

Rescue Me- There’s one scene that still haunts me to this day. I got chills just thinking about it, and the music throughout was superb. TBH I have a weakness for pretty much all firefighter/first responder shows (or as I affectionately refer to them—my ‘wee-woo’ shows🚨 LOL) but this one’s my OG fave. My newer faves are: 911 Lone Star and New Amsterdam

So, I’m noticing a trend with this list… if it’s British or old-timey I’m into it, and if it’s British and old-timey then I’m really into it.

Not sure what you meant exactly by ‘fluffy’… like rom-com-y? Or just something on the lighter side and easy to watch? Because I’ve never been much for most sitcoms (other than the ones I listed) but my last ask that I answered with the original list had quite a few lighter/comedy shows on there. Otherwise I could definitely recommend Downton Abbey or Call The Midwives if you want something to get lost in something with a feel good wholesome vibe to it. I’ll put stars next to anything else above that I think might hit the mark as far as fluffy vibes. Enjoy!

#ask me anything #anon ask #asked and answered #favorite tv shows

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catzula · 3 years

Text

So, you chose the indigo tent?

Welcome to Shinsou's route on something wicked this way comes. I hope you enjoy.

a/n: so, here goes nothing. I'm really excited for this and I really hope you like it! Leave me a like, a reblog or a comment if you enjoyed it 😗

a big thank you to @qawaii for beta reading because you are the only person I can send this to beta and not die of embarrassment. Also thank you love for always motivating me and hyping me I love you muah.

Warnings: NSFW! Minors do not interact! Smut. 7.4k of pwp. Degrading, blow job, orgasm denial (once), hair pulling, slight choking, calling good girl, enemies to lovers kinda vibe, idk what else

Everyone has their low points of life. This night must be yours, you think.

You're tired- exhausted and on the brink of possibly passing out, even; hungry, frustrated, cold, and shivering, and everything seems to be going wrong.

Standing on the hill before the tents, you try to focus on why you're here. Never to feel like this again, of course, but it's hard to push yourself to take one more step at this point.

You have to find Aizawa; you repeat yourself. Find him, convince him to take you in so you won't ever feel this hopeless, so you won't ever think if you can survive sleeping in a night as cold as this. You can't go back, won't go back to that place you once called home. You're determined to find a new home or never belong anywhere again.

There is a dull pain on your fingers, feeling like they're frozen and burning. You know you gave to find somewhere warm to at least wear the exhaustion off of you, regain movement in your fingers and feel like you won't pass out any second.

You'd rather sleep, but you're more than aware how dangerous that could be, so you'd have to yield to a stop break, instead. As the thought seeps into your mind, your brain doesn't even give you the chance to rethink; quick to come up with more reasons for why you should rest first, then find Aizawa.

It's the sweet hope of finding warmth that pulls you closer to the tents. You know it's mad to even think of going in any of them, straight into the territory of people that are freaks, people with quirks that makes you an easy bait for them to kill.

But exhaustion has that kind of an effect on people, and even the worst ideas seem bright at the time, mind foggy, unable to give you a reasonable answer when you ask yourself what's the worst that could happen.

You won't be staying for long, anyway, if anyone finds you, you'll flee- you're smart, not so strong but quick, you can run, right?

Your eyes scan the tents to see which one you can go in and out of without being noticed, and you're quick to eliminate the red and black ones.

The red tent has torches all over, so there's no way you can try and sneak in. And the black tent- well, you don't have a good feeling about it.

The tent closest to you has heavy-looking, dark blue curtains, but when you look closer, you can see the light coming from there, too. Your body getting heavier and heavier by the second, and you're pouting as your eyes fall on the indigo, purple tent. A few careful steps taken closer, you confirm there isn't light coming from inside.

As you come even closer, so close that the heavy, velvet-like material of the tent brushes your naked arms, making goosebumps run down your body. You wait for a few seconds for a sound, anything that indicates there is someone there, but after a few minutes of waiting, you conclude there isn't.

You're reluctant but quick to slip through the curtains, staying close to the exit so you can flee without having to face anyone.

It doesn't take long for your eyes to adjust in the darker room, and you're careful as you scan the room step by step.

It's not massive, but the area still seems bigger than any tent you've seen. It's almost twice your room- your old room.

Head pounding with exhaustion creeping in, you find a hiding place behind a cupboard in the corner. Your body acts before you, slipping in the small opening with ease. It's an advantageous hiding place , giving you the chance to spy on the entrance without blatantly sticking out.

As you wait for someone to come in, for something to happen in this dead of the night, your body starts feeling the signs of exhaustion even worse than before, with finding a warm place and somewhere to sit, adrenaline slowly leaving your body.

And before you know it, you're asleep.

You only after realize that you hadn't thought this through.

You wake up by the dim, reflected light of a candle- you're lucky you're a light sleeper, or you wouldn't have woken up to someone entering the tent.

The silhouette of a man dances on the floor, crouching down as he holds the candle in one hand and busies the other with the pile of clothes. Not sure when he entered the tent, it seems he's not yet aware of your presence, and you know you have to get out before he does.

Noticing his back is turned to you, you finally gather the courage to peep your head from where you sit. A purple head of hair is what you first notice, his ltousled ocks sticking in every direction as if he faced a thunderstorm.

He's reaching towards the pile of clothes, eyes half open as a look of exhaustion challenging yours lingers on his face.

As you stretch your head a little more from the corner you're hiding in, you finally see something hiding between the pile of clothes. It's a cat, you realize. The man's hand runs over the black fur; it makes the cat close his eyes and lean to the touch as he continues to pat its head, scratching under its ears.

You're not aware how intensely you're watching him, wide eyes following his movements, how his odd hair color catches the dim candlelight on itself, soft shadows dancing on the sharp, handsome features of his face.

You know you have to run, get out of here before he notices you, but it's like you're in a faze, curiosity boiling in your body.

It's a scene to behold, the pair of a mad-looking man and a black cat relishing in each others' presence as you gasp and retract back when the cat suddenly opens its eyes, golden gaze looking directly at you.

Your heart drumming in your ears as you sink more into the corner you're in, you miss how the candle he's holding flickers and the way his head tilts your way so slightly.

For a few minutes, nothing happens. You're too afraid to breathe, let alone reach back out to see what the man's doing. It's silent other than your booming heart, and despite knowing you have to get out of there- now, you can't do anything but wait.

"Aren't you cold?" The voice breaks the silence in the tent, a deep grumble that turns your stomach upside down. You think you recognize it; you've heard it earlier today, quickly depicting who he is; the man with the black, beak-like mask who was doing the hypnosis tricks.

"Does anyone want to volunteer for this trick?" He had asked many times that night. "If yes, cheer for me so I can see who does."

It's an automatic response; to cheer with the whistling and clapping crowd, and you hadn't noticed the self-satisfied smile he hid behind the mask at getting a reply from everyone watching him.

"I'm talking to the cat, not to the person hiding behind the cupboard, by the way." The man speaks again, a sarcastic comment that comes out of his lips so indifferently, and it shows how unfazed he is even by having another presence hiding in his tent.

Even the thought of it is chilling, but you don't give yourself the time to ponder about it, now that your cover is blown, leaping towards the exit. You're fast and agile, and Shinsou thinks you would've escaped if you were in the presence of anyone else.

But you aren't, and you soon come to realize that as well.

As you push the velvet curtains and the cold air hits your face, you're sure you've escaped since the man hasn't moved from where he stood. Still, not taking a second more, you're about to disappear into the night.

But instead of running after you, you hear him speak.

"Stop," It's a simple command that would've made you scoff any other time. Does this man really think you would-

stop.

Just in the border of the night and the tent, you suddenly lose the ability to control your body.

You freeze, despite your mind screaming at you to get out of there; you're not able to move an inch as you watch the man as he walks towards you, painfully slow, too.

As he stops before you, you're forced to realize just how bigger he is than you. Crazy locks of hair defy gravity, looking deep blue instead of the purple you had seen in his show.

He looks mean as he stands before you, eyes locked on you. Dangerous, even.

Stuck in a body you can't charge, you have to wait as his eyes scan you with a frown on his lips, the only emotion available on his face being a silent surprise and tiredness. Even with the situation you're in, you can't help but notice he's even more handsome up close. Secretly admiring his dark indigo eyes looking at you with suspicion, the circles under his eyes giving him an even more stern look, lips pressed into a line, high cheekbones shadowing his cheeks.

"Speak." He commands once again, and you fear if you had control of your body, you might've shivered at his tone.

"Wh-what did you do to me?!" It's your first reaction to regaining control; it makes the purple-haired man scoff. He leans a little closer to you, the ends of his locks close to grazing your face, but not quite, inspecting you with a scorning look and a mean frown. He's the source of the tinge of lavender smell in the room, you realize. That and something a little more... musky.

Despite having the control to speak, you're silent as he judges you, and you swear the corner of his lips quirk at that, too. "You were at the show today, weren't you? I think you can guess what's happening."

"You- you hypnotized me!" You shout, terrified. When he hears the accusing tone of your voice, the man quirks a brow at you.

"You broke into my tent." He mocks you with a smile, looking you up and down. "Aren't you cold?" He repeats. "Come in."

Your body obeys the commend, following the man back into the tent you just escaped, your body once again meeting the lavender-tinted warm air. You stand in the middle of the room as you watch him plop himself on a seat, legs wide open, almost invitingly so, his lips curved into a smile as his gaze keeps wandering on you.

You're unable to help it when your gaze starts shifting on his form, too, especially with the way he's looking at you now; you're not sure if it's the harsh shadows on his face that makes him look so irresistible, with that knowing smirk when he catches your eyes flicking lower than they should. When he quirks a brow at you, with eyes that almost tell you; I know what you're thinking, it suddenly feels a little too warm.

A hum vibrates in the air before he speaks again. "Tell me, pretty girl," he says, "why were you in my tent?"

As soon as you hear the command, you brace yourself to blurt out the whole truth, but- you don't. Questioning eyes finding him; he shrugs. "I'm not going to force it out of you."

He looks so smug with the way he says it, too, making you scoff with narrowed eyes. "Oh, how generous of you."

He ignores the mocking tone of your voice, the only indication he even heard them being the slight tilt of his lips. "If I knew you wouldn't flee the moment I let you go, too, you wouldn't be in this situation, either."

"Is that so?" You mutter, seemingly disinterested. "I will, though."

Your words seem to amuse him, the way you resist him, despite being entirely under his mercy, acting like he has no power over you.

So he smiles; it's deceptive, dark, exciting. It makes the air shift into something new; something that feels thicker, hotter, lustful.

He seems indifferent, however, and you hope he's blind to how your body reacts, as well, to when he sighs, hands running through his tangled, odd-colored locks.

"Why are you still keeping me here, anyway?" You blurt out, wanting to get out of here before you do something... mad.

"I'm curious." He answers the question, a smile resting on his plush lips as he shrugs. "Why were you in my tent?"

Eye for an eye, you think as he counters you with his question. He had answered yours, and it was only fair if you did the same. "I was cold," you tell him, staying as vague as possible. "Your tent seemed warm."

"That's it?" His brows arch up. "The rest isn't any of your business."

"I'm curious."

"I don't even know your name!" You huff angrily. "All I know is you're a guy who works in a circus with powers that leave me a puppet in your hands. I'm not here to entertain you."

As you blurt the last sentence, you don't miss his dark chuckle at it. "We'll see about that," he mutters, but before giving you the chance to speak, he speaks again. "My name's Shinsou. Feeling better?"

"Much." You mock him with an exaggerated smile, voice hostile. "Now will you let me go?"

"Why would I?" He laughs. "You still haven't answered my questions, and haven't you heard it's only courtesy to tell your own name when someone tells you theirs?"

"And haven't you heard it's being a basic human fucking being not to keep people under your influence like this?"

A beat of silence passes as he ponders on an answer and fails, and both of you know he lost this round. "Kitty's got claws, I see." He swipes his tongue on his bottom lip, amusedly watching your reaction at the pet name. You sneer at him- but Shinsou's a little too interested in this to miss the way you shift in your place, your quickening breaths, the flutter of your eyes.

"Don't call me that."

"Why? Got you excited?" Shinsou quirks a brow when you squeak angrily. "You won't even tell me your name."

You would've rolled your eyes if you could, instead just sighing at the purple-haired man. "It's Y/N." You answer. "My Name's Y/N."

It's been a while since Shinsou had this much fun; he missed this game of cat and mouse.

"Very well then, Y/N," he repeats your name as suggestive as possible, "would you answer my question? I can force the answer out of you, you know." He looks amused as he leans forward in his chair, suddenly much more interested in what you say, how you move. Like a predator watching its prey. "All it takes is a command."

Each word makes its way out of his lips so smoothly- you shiver at the way he speaks them. And you're disappointed when you realize not with fear.

It was a lost game the moment you even felt a tinge of lust towards the man, but you doubt there is anyone who can resist his charm. Still, you refuse to play into his hand, choosing to fight submitting to him just like that.

"With your witchcraft or whatever it is, yes." You shoot back, "but you can never control me without it." You feel needles of excitement run over your skin.

"Hm?" He quirks a brow, a feline cat on his lips, making you shiver with the lust settling on his gaze. Your eyes follow the movement of his adam's apple when he gulps. "You think I can't make you do as I say without my powers?" His voice drops an octave, and it almost makes you gasp.

"I know you can't." You sneer. "I would never let you."

"Big words from a little girl. Are you challenging me?"

"And what if I am?"

"Well," Shinsou slides his tongue over his lip, your gaze follows the movement. "you'll have to prove it to me."

As he speaks the words, the heaviness that had consumed your body disappears, as well. Your eyes shoot up- only meeting his mocking indigo gaze. You don't need him to tell you what to do, as one glance is enough for you to see how his pants seem a little strained over his crotch, a print making itself visible.

"What?" He asks, a grin resting on his lips as you stay still. His voice is deep, a guttural, almost tired tone that has you shivering with each way he speaks his words. "All bark, no bite? I thought you were up for a challenge- oh." You effectively shut him up when you settle before the man in one quick motion, relishing in the way his eyes widen, a content, almost excited grin consuming his face.

"You were saying something?" You purr innocently, as if you're not kneeling between his legs, licking your lips and giving him a glance from beneath your lashes.

"Nothing," Shinsou huffs out a laugh, settling in his chair to give you better access. "Do go on."

His dick is even more prominent now, you notice, a wicked smile settling on your lips. You lift your hand to trace his cock, touch ghosting him from over the material of his pants. He's semi-hard beneath your fingers, but even then, you have to muffle a gasp at just how big he is. Unfortunately, he seems to notice the widening of your eyes and your gulp.

He leans forward to tease you, but you don't give him a chance. His eyes flutter close when your hand finally takes him in your hold. "Shit-" Shinsou curses, his tongue darts out to wet his lips as you palm him over the material of his pants, not fast nor hard enough to satisfy him but to keep him tittering on edge. "You fucking tease." He sounds out of breath, but somehow manages to open his eyes to give you a dark look.

"Can't wait to fuck it out of you."

Shinsou waits, endures your torture until you yourself can't, growing impatient to feel him in your mouth.

His chuckle sinister as he aids you while your fingers work his pants off, leaving you face to face with his now hard cock, a small patch of wetness painting his briefs a darker color.

"Look what you did to me," Shinsou heaves, forcing himself to keep his indigo eyes open and on you. "making me hard without even taking me in your mouth."

You bite your lip as your hands slip beneath his boxers, feeling him hot and pulsing under your touch for the first time. You both groan at the sensation.

As you finally push his briefs down, you first see a tuff of deep-purple hair, his cock red and angry. "Ah, fuck." He curses at the contact with the cold air, his head lolling and falling back slightly.

"If it's too much-" he breathes before you can move any further, "tap my thigh twice, or yell bandaid." He only lets you go on when you nod, making sure you understood what he said.

Without waiting any longer, you take him in your hand, and it only makes you realize he's even bigger than you originally had thought. You try to hide your doubts on if you're even going to be able to fit him in your mouth, but he realizes anyway. "What?" Shinsou mutters breathily, "scared?"

You don't answer him, leaning forward to take the sensitive tip between your mouth, instead. The bitter taste of precum has a tinge of sweetness to it, and you don't even realize you start suckling on it a bit harder to get more of the taste.

"Oh- fucking hell." He runs his hands through his hair with a loud groan, a borderline moan, when you suck particularly hard, twirling your tongue around his sensitive head. The sound makes its way straight down to your core.

Your other hand comes up to cup his balls as you let go of his angry red tip, tracing his cock to the base with kisses planted along his shaft. "Ah- fuck, fuck, fuck!" Shinsou groans when you massage his balls softly, leaving kisses on the base, your other hand pumping him slower than he wants it.

"Stop fucking teasing." He growls, voice breathy and shallow. "Or are you afraid -ah- you can't take it all?"

The smug grin he has, despite your best efforts to wipe it off has you fuming. You know he only says it to rile you up, but it works. "Shut up." You spit at the handsome man, not even missing a beat or trying to ease him in as you start pushing yourself on his length. It's pure spite, he knows it too, but it only makes it more fun for Shinsou.

You underestimated him.

You open your mouth as much as you can, jaw aching almost immediately with the pressure, but you try to discard the feeling, focused on having as much of him in your mouth.

"Ah fuck!" He groans out loudly, hips twitching, a thrust in your welcoming mouth before he can catch himself. "Good fuckin' girl," Shinsou breathes, his hand flying to your head as support, pushing you even further down. You almost miss the subtle whiny moan he lets out when you gag loudly around him. The head of his cock hitting the back of your throat as Shinsou keeps pushing you down on his cock mindlessly, your heart drums in your ears, jaw aching, breaths shallow and insufficient.

"Look at you- oh, look at you." Shinsou mutters between his ragged breaths. "Such an obedient little girl, so pretty, so eager-" his warm cock thrusts deeper in your mouth and makes you gag once again, tears that had welled in your eyes before now spilling down your cheeks. Shinsou's half-lidded gaze falls on you, face wet with drool, tears, and his precum, and you feel his cock twitch along with a groan, "-so eager to please me."

You wish- you wish you could protest, say he's wrong, that you don't care the slightest bit about how he feels, but you can't. And not because of his cock stuffing your mouth, either.

Instead, you feel the blood starting to rush downwards, straight to your pussy, making you soil your panties with how he spits out each syllable.

Shinsou's aware of this, too, how effective his words are. His head falls back, weak to the pleasure you're giving him, moaning and gagging around his length as he thrusts faster into you. The dull pain in your skull feels so good, the ache of your throat, his cock hot and heavy on your tongue-

"You're- you're getting off on this, huh?" Shinsou tightens his grip on your hair. "You like it when I call you a good girl? You like it when I use you as a fuck hole?"

You try to lie, shake your head no, but he doesn't give you a chance, no room to move your head with how tight his hold is. With one thrust exceptionally deep, Shinsou laughs almost cruelly as he speaks. "Of course, you do. You're sucking me so fucking well; it's impossible you don't."

"Good girl- good fucking girl, I bet you're soaking in your panties, too, huh? What a little slut. I thought you weren't going to give in? I thought you said I couldn't control you?"

"Fuck you." You spit out when you pull away from his cock, but he doesn't seem pleased by it. "Don't speak with your mouth full, darling." Shinsou growls, his hand cupping your jaw and forcing your eyes to meet his, fingers digging deep into the soft of your skin. "Didn't anyone teach my baby any manners? Or are you just too dumb to learn?"

You open your mouth to say something, but before you can even utter a word, his long fingers force their way through your lips; whatever you were going to say stays as a muffled moan.

"You know, from the moment I saw you all I thought about as you talked and talked and talked was how I wanted to put that big mouth of yours into good use."

In all honesty- it was all you thought about as well.

With seeing the glint in your eyes, Shinsou huffs out a laugh. "Oh, look at my pretty little slut." He forces his fingers even deeper, making you gag. "You think I don't know what you're thinking? You think I don't know how much you want my cock in your mouth? Such a whore, hiding in my tent. You did this on purpose, didn't you? Came here to get fucked like a bitch in heat by one of us freaks?"

The last words are but a haze to you since by then; he's already pushing himself back and forth past your abused lips, moaning at the feeling of your warm, wet mouth, without giving you the time to think, to breathe, to accustom. Shinsou holds a ruthless pace, gripping your head fest by the hair as he groans and moans, making you squirm under him. "Good girl- ah, fuck, such a good girl, suck my cock just like that- ah!"

"Fuck- I'm coming." You almost don't hear him, only raise your gaze to his half-lidded eyes and feel his cock twitch between your lips. "I'm coming- ah- shit, shit shit!"

Your moans get louder as his thrusts get sloppier, and you feel his whole body tremble at your voice. "I'm gonna- fuck!" Shinsou finally feels himself falling over the edge he's been dancing on, his hot cum shooting down your aching, abused throat, moaning when he notices how eagerly you swallow his cum.

His body falls limp back on the seat, chest heaving with deep, heavy breaths. There is a sheen layer of sweat covering Shinsou's body, making the muscles of his body shine under the dim candlelight.

All you hear in the quiet tent is his deep breaths, his head resting back, eyes closed, and he seems exhausted. A few minutes pass for him to pull himself together, opening his eyes to look at you, and- fuck he's hard again.

"Are you okay?" You shake your head, suppressing a smile at his now even messier-looking hair.

"Are you okay?" You ask smugly, coughing once because of the ache. "Thought you were gonna- hey!" You squeak as he jumps on his feet, and in a moment, you find yourself swept off the floor and in his arms. "I see you still have words to speak." Shinsou laughs, his face so close to yours, you feel his breath fanning against your ear, and he feels you tremble between his arms. He quirks a brow at your surprised reaction. You hadn't expected him to be able to continue, truth be told.

"What?" He continues, "I thought I made myself clear when I said I'd fuck it out of you."

You try to keep your last bit of resistance in you by speaking, "I'd like to see you try." But both of you seem aware you've already lost.

"Oh, I'm sure you do." Shinsou gives you a look before placing- throwing you on the unmade bed, eliciting a loud gasp from you. The dim candlelight hits his naked form in a way that has you rubbing your legs in anticipation. He isn't bulky but well-built and muscular, enough to toss you around with ease, enough to have your mouth watering at the thought of running your fingers over his well-defined muscles.

His gaze predatory, Shinsou looks dissatisfied eyeing you. "Strip." He orders, a knowing smile finding its way on his lips as you realize he won't use his powers but knows you'll obey his command like a good girl.

And you do, too. Maybe it's the anticipation or the uncanny glint in Shinsou's eyes that get to your head, but thoughts of defiance are thrown out of the window as you're shrugging off your clothes without giving it a second thought.

"That's it." He grins, his index finger just barely ghosting over your thigh, and he relishes how you squirm because of it. "Look how good you can be for me."

"Such a pretty girl," his hand continues circling your bare legs, getting dangerously close to where you need him the most, but never quite giving it. "My pretty girl." You feel him smile on your skin, littering it with kisses and bites as his fingers ghost over your pussy.. "A shame she has that bratty streak, though."

Shinsou clicks his tongue, suddenly pulling his hand back away, suppressing a smile at your needy whine. It's the kind of sound that's pushing him closer to ruining you by the second.

"No, no, baby, don't cry." You feel his hand cup your face, pads of his fingers tracing your face. His thumb grazes your lips, tracing the outline and pushing in, the sudden intrusion making you moan around it. "I'm here to help you with that."

Help you, he does. You feel his finger graze your clit, circling it just barely but even that slightest contact has you gasping for more after spending that long focused on him.

"Look at you," Shinsou tuts disappointedly, "just barely touched you, and you're soaking wet. Did you enjoy sucking me that much? Did you like how my dick tastes so much that it turned you on?"

"I-" you try to gather your thoughts, but he silences you by pushing one of his fingers in your pussy, his fingers long and slim, such pretty hands he has, his pale skin glistening with your wetness. "What was that?"

"P-please," you beg pathetically as all his motions still abruptly, eyes turning steal as he leans so close that you think your noses might touch. His other hand latches on your hair when your head lolls back down, his grip forcing you to keep your eyes on his indigo ones. The dull pain in your scalp goes straight to your core, and Shinsou can tell by how you clench around his finger.

"That isn't an answer to my question, Y/N." Your name rolls of his tongue so cold, so distant, you find yourself whining at it.

"Y-yes!" You exclaim, hips moving and grinding against his hand to find more friction with yet another cry, "I did- I did, so please!"

Shinsou has to admit.

Having you look at him with wide, watering eyes, face contorted in need of pleasure, your lips trembling as a form of begging- he doesn't think he can hold off much longer.

You feel so tight, even with just a finger, so warm and welcoming that he might be going crazy. Your mouth falls slack; eyes squeezed closed as you focus on the pleasure, silent other than shallow, desperate breathes.

"That's a good girl." Shinsou approves, adding a second finger and closing the gap between your faces to press a kiss on your lips as a reward.

So desperate for affection, you don't hear nor feel his amused laugh as you throw your arms around his neck when he starts to pull back after giving you but a peck, trying to hold him close, pull him into a kiss.

Shinsou shakes his head no, his fingers curling in you as he does so, your back arching off the bed. "Let's not get greedy, pretty girl. Don't worry; I'll take you there- as many times as you want. Okay?"

"Okay." You nod obediently and- fuck, Shinsou feels his dick ache with how hard he is.

"You take my fingers so well." He mutters, almost talking to himself, fascinated by how eager your pussy pulls him in. "Just listen how you gush around my fingers, how slutty your pussy is," Shinsou chuckles, the wet sound of your cunt making you cry out a whine. "Looks how wet you are, so messy, so pretty, wanna make you cum so many times-" He raises his brows when you shake your head 'no'

"Wanna-" you whine, "wanna cum on your cock."

"Please?" You add quickly, giving him the mastered doe-eyes. With the way his fingers sink into the flesh of your thighs, you know you're pushing him till he can't hold back anymore.

"Ah, fuck baby." You moan as his eyes roll back in his head. "How can I say no to you when you ask so nicely?"

You writhe under him as he rubs the swollen head on your pussy first, wetting the tip of his cock with your arousal as you nuzzle your face on his neck to get more of his scent, his skin muffling your moans when he lightly taps your clit.

"If it's too much," Shinsou holds you by the chin to make you look at him, your gaze half-lidded, mouth agape, you looked fucked dumb already. "what were you going to say?"

"Band-bandaids." You half-moan, half speak. Satisfied with the answer, Shinsou can't wait any longer as he's finally pushing himself in you, your cunt pulsing around him-

fuck- so warm, so wet, so soft-

"Holy fuck!" A guttural groan rips from his chest as he feels your strained walls pulse and flutter around him, trying to adjust to his size as he hears your needy cries right next to his ear. It has him losing his mind; Shinsou angles his hips just enough to have you screaming his name, and the feeling of his cock dragging against your pussy, heavy and hot in you, is enough to have you teetering on the edge already.

"'s big!" You whine into his neck, body convulsing with each drag of his cock in you. "So big- you're so big, makes me feel so full." You gasp, unaware of how you bring your hand to your stomach, pressing on the bulge that appears when he pushes in you.

You look so mindlessly fucked out; with your face twisted in pleasure, mouth fallen slack and drool pooling in the corner of your lips, eyes rolling back in your skull as he plunges in and out of you.

"Shinsou- Shinsou, ah, fuck!" You babble, nails digging in his arms to leave angry red crescents. So lost in the pleasure, you're not exactly aware of Shinsou's hands roaming around your face, cupping your jaw, caressing your cheeks, pushing back stray hairs. So cute, so vulnerable for him- he can't wait to make your face wet with tears.

"I'm gonna- I- I'm gonna cum!" You moan, but he knows this already, by the way your back arching off the bed with each deep thrust of his hips, by your pussy clenching even harder on his cock, your hands holding on to him like he's your lifeline.

In a heartbeat, just as you're sure the coil that's been growing in you is going to snap, just as you're about to fall into that bliss- he stops.

A broken sob follows his stillness, a cry ripping itself off your chest at the feeling that was just beyond reach. "Why?" You whine into his chest, hips wiggling to try and feel the same as you did a second ago.

"Shh, it's okay," he coos, voice breathy, more uncollected than he tries to look, purple locks of hair submitting to gravity and falling down, hovering around his face like an indigo halo. "I'll let you come as many times as you want- if you beg."

He raises a brow at you when you squirm under his touch, clamping down on his cock when he growls in your ear, hot breath fanning on your neck. "Beg for it, pretty girl, beg for me to make you cum on my cock- such a hungry slut- beg and I'll give you whatever you want."

You look up at him teary-eyed, your body shaking like a leaf in hungry need, for release, for him, but your lips refuse to atone, your head shaking side to side as a sob leaves your throat.

You can't, you can't beg, but the feeling is irresistible.

"No?" Shinsou voices your silent rebel, and you think the shadows on his face just got a few tones darker.

"You think you have a choice?" His voice low and grave as you feel a pair of hands snake up your body and wrap around your neck, squeezing just the right amount to have your eyes widen with shock, pussy tighten with need but not so much that you're gasping for air. "Nothing but a filthy whore- look at me when I fuck you."

Another squeeze has your eyes rolling back in your head, his filthy words traveling right down to your weeping core. "Now beg."

This time, you don't miss a beat before obeying, pleas falling from your lips along with whimpers of his name, but it's not enough; that you can tell by the dissatisfied click of his tongue. "P-please, sir," you whisper, it makes him move, a hard thrust in your to show praise.

"P-please fuck me-" you add, trying to speak between his occasional deep thrusts, messing with your head. "Show me my- mmh, fuck!- my place!"

As soon as the words are out of your lips, Shinsou goes out of his mind as well. His eyes widen with how your words affect him, an electrifying warmth blooming in the pit of his stomach. "Show you your place?" He growls, and you cry out a moan when he starts thrusting in a ruthless pace, his grip on your neck now suddenly a tad tighter, black spots dancing around in your vision.

"Show you what a slut you are, is that it?"

You're not even comprehending the words he's spewing, the feeling of his cock filling you up has warm tears running down your cheeks, sobs mixed with moans filling the silence other than the sound of skin slapping skin and his low growls.

"Crying? What a little baby, can't even take a cock in you, huh? Then what are you even good for?" Just as he finishes his sentence, the tip of his cock grazes that sweet spot in you, making you cry out a louder sob. "Sh-shinsou, please!"

Hearing you sob out his name like that has his cock twitching in you, your legs wrapped around his waist, legs digging into the small of his back, your nails biting in his shoulders as if he's the only thing holding you up and sane, newer ones filling his skin with each thrust he gifts you. His lidded gaze focuses on your fucked out face, drooling as your mouth falls slack, eyes rolling to the back of your head, face wet with tears you're still shedding. His hand travels from your neck to your jaw, forcing you to look at him so he can lean forward and plant a wet kiss on your lips.

"Fuck yeah- look at you, pretty girl, crying because how good I'm fucking you, huh?"

You nod pathetically, knowing he's waiting for an answer, but a nod is all you can muster with how hazy your mind feels. "More, more- please sir, ah!" Your hands travel from his arms to his back, leaving red, angry stripes on his back as well; one of your hands find a purple lock of hair, taking it between your fingers and hanging on it as hard as you can-

"Ah, shit!" Shinsou shouts as he throws his head up in the air at the dull pain you give him, his cock twitching in you and making you cry out a moan. You're not even aware you're pulling his hair, not aware you're getting him so close to cumming, not aware of anything but his fat cock drilling in you.

"Shit! Baby don't- ah, don't do that or I'm-" He groans, thrusts getting harder, faster-

"You're gonna cum?" He growls in your ear as he feels you clamping harder on his cock, the feeling of you fluttering around him bringing him to your high with you. "Huh? Are you? Answer me." Shinsou's hand grips your hair, pulling it and exposing the skin of your neck for him, open and vulnerable for him to leave marks.

The feeling of his hand in your hair, the kisses he leaves on every sensitive part of your neck, the way his teeth graze and sometimes bite your skin- it's all too much, your body shaking and back arching, you're close- so, so close that-

"I'm cumming- sir, please, I-"

"Cum for me then." Shinsou orders, voice breathy and shaking with the pleasure he's swimming in.

All it takes is for him to lean for another kiss, his tongue sliding in your mouth, and you're falling off the sweet edge, cries getting louder and body shaking with a ripping orgasm, you're clamping down on his cock like crazy, like you won't ever let him go, your dainty hands in his hair and hanging on his locks without care and fuck-

"Give me one more, baby, one more-" Shinsou grunts in your ear, lips grazing the shell as his fingers rub vigorous circles on your clit, "I know you have it in you, come on."

"I- I can't-" You try to speak, but it's all too much, your mind foggy, the tip of your tongue lolling out. "You can," Shinsou growls, orders. "You can and you will."

It's not much after your body convulses with yet another orgasm, hanging on Shinsou as he keeps fucking into you, and you know he's close.

"Come in me!" Your voice cries out to the man; you have your arms thrown around his neck, pulling him to yourself, want to be closer, closer, closer- "Please- come in me! I want to feel you- ah!"

You gasp as he gives you few last pumps, overstimulation making you flinch. Shinsou comes with a groan, teeth sinking into the conjunction of your neck and shoulders and causing you to cry out in pleasure mixes with a tint of pain.

Your eyes are falling as he pulls you to himself, closing his arms around you and holding you against his chest. You stay like that for a while, both too tired to even ask each other how you're doing. He finally slips out of your abused cunt, standing up to glance at you worriedly when you wince. "Sorry."

"How are you feeling?" You hear him grumble as he shuffles through the drawers, wetting the clean towel he pulled out from there. When he comes back, you also notice the bottle of medicine he has in his hands.

"Here, take this." He gives you the medicine and a cup of water, leaning towards you hesitantly. "Should I?" He brings the towel towards the between of your legs, but still keeps a distance.

When you nod, his soft touch ushers your legs to part. He grimaces when you wince at the contact with the towel, even when his touch is so light, but you endure it.

"I should help you out with those." You mutter, half-embarrassed as you inspect the angry red lines adorning his back and arms. His chest is littered with lovebites and marks you don't even remember leaving, and he chuckles when he drops his gaze to look for himself, as well.

"It's okay; you should rest." He laughs. "I'll take care of it later."

You nod, but you still feel his gaze on you as you push yourself deeper in the sheets, mind swimming in thoughts of-

"What are you going to do now?" Shinsou voices, and you notice he's back in his boxers and a shirt, hair in a little more shape. You blink a few times, not knowing how to answer, not knowing the answer, hands fisting the sheets in tight balls.

"I first wanted to go find Aizawa." You shrug, rubbing your eyes. "Before I came here, I mean."

He huffs out a surprised laugh, glancing at you with his brows raised. "That's a first." He mutters. "What's the occasion?"

A smile sneaks its way on your lips as you give him an unfazed shrug. "You think I'll tell you? Maybe I'll let you hear what it is when you take me to him."

Shinsou stays still for a second or so, the predatory glint he had a few minutes ago appearing once again in his indigo eyes. "My silly little baby," You feel two of his fingers graze the underside of your chin, tilting your gaze to meet his. "I thought we already agreed that I can make you do anything I say." You feel his breath on your lips, leaning to close the gape.

"Or should I teach you one more time?"

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bobohunn · 3 years

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Lean On (Prologue)

Pair : Baekhyun x you, Baekhyun x female reader

Genre : Fluff, Angst, Friends to Lovers series

Word Count : 984

Taglist : (Please tell me if you want to be added or removed!)

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While taking in the scene of the beautiful sun slowly but surely making its way up the horizon, you moved closer to the man beside you and placed the side of your head on his broad and toned shoulder. You closed your eyes as the brilliant golden ball in front of you extended its rays in every direction possible as far as it could, in an attempt to reach for the sparkling dust in the darker part of the skies. Little by little, you could feel warmth crawl from your toes to every last inch of your skin.

“Thank you for bringing me here, Baekhyun.”

You felt his shoulder rise against your jaw only for it to drop back down immediately. You pulled your head away a bit to get a better view of the expression that sat on his pretty face. Baekhyun’s gaze was on something far away, but with the way his pupils shook, you were sure that he was holding himself back from moving his eyes to stare back at yours.

Oh, the things you’d do to have him look at nothing but you and only you.

“I should be thanking you. Thank you for coming with me [y/n].” He muttered, still looking away.

You were already confused enough, but when Baekhyun finally moved to stare back at you, every single thing inside you jumbled up into a mess.

“Baek, what’s wrong?”

He smiled at you, “And I’m supposed to be asking you that.”

If it were possible for your eyebrows to knit more, they probably would have, but you were already at your limit. You couldn’t be more confused.

“I know you’re not okay. I wanted to ask you if something’s wrong, but I already figured you wouldn’t tell me anyway,” Baekhyun said.

A chuckle left your lips before your elbow playfully bumped his arm to conceal the pain that was starting to grow inside your chest. You wanted to say something. You wanted to tell him that you were okay and that nothing was wrong. But you knew within yourself that he was right. You were not okay. Everything in your life was wrong, and your whole existence felt like a terrible mistake. And he was right— he always is, that you wouldn’t admit any of that out loud anyway.

You pushed yourself from where you were seated and stretched your arms over your head, sideways, and to your back. Baekhyun watched your small form move around. He took the time to adore every part of you. Your face was decorated by your chocolate-colored eyes that turned hazel whenever the sunlight hit them, your small button nose that he was sure was red and swollen, and the pretty border of your smile that was your lips. Your arms swayed gracefully against the sea breeze, imitating how the water moved in waves towards the shore. And your little feet left subtle prints and evidence of life walking on the sand.

“Let’s go home,” you said with a yawn, the spirit of sleep entering your system despite moving around to get rid of it.

“Until when are we playing this game, [y/n]?” He said almost too softly for you to hear.

“What?” You asked him to repeat what he said. But it wasn’t because you didn’t hear him. In fact, you heard him clearly, although you wish you didn’t. You wanted to act as if you didn’t know where the situation was headed to. You wanted to act as if you didn’t know how it was about to end up being you wriggling yourself back to your painful reality of desolation. After all, it’s always been exactly like that— but still awful every single time.

“Until when are you gonna hide and act like you’re completely and perfectly fine when it’s obvious that you aren’t?” Baekhyun’s eyes were glistening, and you didn’t miss the way he crumpled the sleeves of his hoodie in his fists. It was as if he were holding onto them for his dear life, afraid that if he would let go, he’d fall into an endless pit of darkness.

You purse your lips so your tongue could fish out an answer from your brain. But even your mind ran out of words to say. Ironic, isn’t it? You’ve been in the same situation more times than you should have, yet you still didn’t know what to do nor what to say.

Baekhyun saw your troubled expression. If it were any other day, he would have just wrapped his arms around you, smoothed out the lines that formed on your forehead with his slender fingers, and kissed the top of your head. But today, he wanted you to find an answer, not for him, but for yourself. It was time for you to quit playing games. Because all along, it was only you who was getting fooled.

“You already know I can't stand using people,” you said with a shaky voice.

“When did I ever say that you have to use people, [y/n]? Why don't you just lean on others? On me?” Baekhyun’s voice raised a few notes higher. He was getting frustrated, not mad, though. It was frustrating to know that you were unconsciously hurting yourself to spare others from pain.

You breathed through your nose and smiled a little, “It’s the same thing, Baek. Leaning onto you and using you.”

Baekhyun moved a step closer to you, closing the little distance left between the both of you. He was so close that his breath fanned your cheeks. He looked straight into you with what seemed like a mixture of anger, sadness, and something you haven’t seen nor felt before. Probably something like love.

“What if I want you to use me, then? Can’t you just lean on me?”

You shook your head and lowered your gaze to the ground. “That’s why I’m leaving.”

#Baekhyun #baekhyun fluff #baekhyun angst #bobohunn writes #exo fluff #exo fanfiction #exo baekhyun #baekhyun fics #angst #exo

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molamocha · 4 years

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Yandere NCT 127

A/N: I'm at my yandere stage, Lord help me this is like my mafia obsession. (poorly written ik but not bad for a 4am idea)

Warnings: Excluded Haechan because of the themes involved [I DO NOT condone this type of behavior, this is just a darker genre that is enjoyable to a distinct audience. If you do not feel comfortable with the elements involved please do not read.]

Taeyong - The Non-Violent Stalker

Started off innocently searching and scrolling through your social media because he "wanted to know more about you", ignoring the signs of his curiosity evolving into an obsession the more he invested in it. At this point he's good at acting like the things you've told him are his first time hearing about them. Has no motive to hurt or disturb you, it's just like watching a Sim doing their promised tasks to him. Despite being caught several times he doesn't seem to try and stop his behavior, and breaking up? You can try.

Taeil - The Zookeeper

In ropes willingly or not, he likes the idea of you being, not necessarily vulnerable, but stuck with him. Normally he'd just find ways to keep you either home or glued to him, but when you try to get away he goes full on chains and shackles. Methods vary, but he'd usually keep you in one specific area, and if you behaved you were free to wander around your enclosure, not that there was much to see anyway. Just your little surveillanced room with him on the other side of the glass. You were his little rarity and his fear and insecurity of you ever leaving would eat him alive before he allowed himself to drag you down to hell with him.

Johnny - The Disciplinarian

I think this is self explanatory. Very charming, his cold demeanor didn't match how warm he was when the two of you were alone. It started after talking back at a dinner party, where you were joking around too much with the guests, he gave one slap on the ass to quiet you down the rest of the night. You thought he was being flirty but no, after glancing up at him he'd give an empty glare.

Punishments vary with how far you've pushed him, and don't think having others around will stop him either. He can easily excuse the both of you off and come back to tending guests without you. Held up by belts and ribbon tied around your wrists, ass glowing red, as he brushes over whatever unmarked skin is left with voices muffled behind the bedroom door.

"It's hard to admire how beautiful you are all tied up for me when you've been misbehaving."

Yuta - The Gothel

Does whatever he can do to keep you home. Manipulates you into feel unsafe leaving the house without him, making you hermit inside more and more. Being invited out by friends become rare at an oddly fast rate, despite you having no problem leaving for a night out. Questionable injuries, unless it's from a wild night in bed you don't know how it happened.

"How did you sprain your ankle? You should stay home."

"How did you fall into a ditch and hurt your arm? You should stay home"

If you're still in and out of the house his strategies become more reckless, still keeping that sweet tone in his voice to cover any suspicion.

"What do you mean you can't feel your legs?"

Doyoung - The Mask

Does everything behind the scenes. The way ppl slowly start to disappear from your inner circle sparked suspicion in you but his innocence made it hard for you to pin him. You slowly lose your mind over the mystery, becoming more dependent on him emotionally, and that's okay. Don't worry, "I'll never leave you."

Jaehyun - The Owner

Doesn't mind having distance between you as long as people know you belong to him. Either bruises or jewelery, he wants it on you, something to show that he gave it to you and to make it clear that you're taken. The one to rush into engagement or at least a promise ring for those who won't show away from your collection of necklaces, and takes pride in seeing others marvel at your silvers and diamonds. When he's really antsy he needs a blemish, a mark, whatever satisfies, on you before he lets go. Isn't very violent and tries to keep it civil, but will do whatever he needs to keep others away, leading you to come back to him.

WinWin - Camera Boy

Was cute for candid moments when you were dating before things seemed off. Always wanted a photo of the smallest memory known or unwanted. Two years in you started feeling watched in your apartment, and after some bargaining, convinced you to move in with him for you to feel safer. Wasn't into following you much and didn't really care to watch, but was more focused on capturing every part of you. Flattering or not, he didn't want to miss it.

Didn't take you long to find a private stash of photos of you. "Don't worry," you jump at the voice behind you. He smiles, closing you into a hug. "Those moments are for safe keeping."

Jungwoo - The physically clingy one

Borderline owner behavior except with physical interaction. Has a time limit for not knowing where you are before he goes too far. An instance is known where you two were split up at a dinner party, leading him to assault a server who seemed overly friendly from his side of the room. If he's not latched around you he's at least holding your hand or fiddling with your clothes. Uneasy when you don't initiate enough or when he feels unloved, resulting in a non physical outburst but nonetheless still scary.

Mark - The Spontaneous one

Torn between being the good guy and surrendering to his urges. Was normal the first few months, like they usually are, but when he suppresses it for too long anything can set him off. Can go from having a dinner party with friends to waking up with a headache at his house in the clothes you wore yesterday. Mean managers disappear, greedy landlords give out, leading you to move in until you find your own place. You can tell when he's off when he keeps to himself more than usual. Other than that he doesn't expose much of that side of him, minus the strange scents lingering around his clothes when coming home but you never get to question it.

#not bad for a girl with no talent #thought abt excluding mark too but i think 20 is a good line to draw #nct imagines #nct reactions #nct scenarios #nct 127 reactions #nct yandere

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kongpeople · 5 years

Text

full moon | part four

full moon part 4

chapter 1 - chapter 2 - chapter 3 - chapter 4 - chapter 5 (not out yet)

pairing: richie x reader

age of the main characters: 17-18

word count: 3,134 (wow!)

warnings: smoking, cursing, sexual harassment, irresponsible driving

tense: 1st person

abbreviations: y/n : your name

prompts: 97: “ Don’t touch me. ”

music recommendations: goodbye (karaoke) by don’t hug me i’m scared, sweet dreams (are made of this) by emily browning, midnight in the garden by atli örvarsson

a/n: so many words wow hope you enjoy this long ass chapter! (i could’ve split it into at least two parts but it’s all for you 💜)

(goodbye (karaoke) by don’t hug me i’m scared LOOP ON)

I got through the already broken fence and stepped into the woods with ease. I could see the bloody balloon very well, surrounded by the fields of various trees and bushes, it was almost screaming to get my attention. I heard a subtle crack behind me, but couldn’t dare to get my focus off the flying object. Right away I noticed a big tree that no longer had the feeling of an unkept jungle. Inside the tree was a huge hole, pitch black inside, where probably five grown men could fit. The balloon suddenly stopped and levitated in place. Before I could proceed to overthink anything, a white gloved hand appeared from the tree hole. I watched as it clutched on the dirt, crawling out. When a red pompommed wrist showed, my nerves went loose and made me scream for my life.

I closed my mouth when the light caressing my closed eyes disappeared, and darkness surrounded me. I opened my eyes and just then felt the overwhelmingly intense cologne irritating my nostrils. Sound not hitting me yet, I tilted my head back and looked around. No longer was there a big tree nor the tree hole. Not even the bloody red balloon, but a bushy and disgustingly moist forest again. Looking up, I saw the face of Lucifer himself, Richard Tozier, gazing down at me, saying something in my direction. My hands were on his chest, while his on my shoulders, shaking me subtly. Just then, when all senses hit me, I heard his voice.

“(y/n), (y/n), jesus, do you hear me?” His tone was annoyed but also a bit worried, I guessed. I opened my mouth, trying to spit something out as well as going through everything that had happened. His hands were still clutched on my thin sleeves.

“I, uh, the tree, balloon...” I muttered. Richard’s brows furrowed, as he penetrated my eyes with his gaze, seeking an explanation. “Wait, you followed me here?”

He scoffed. “I found you screaming in the woods, talking about balloons, and you’re asking me about following you?” He’s avoiding the question. His hands finally left my shoulders and I took mine off his chest as well, missing the feel of a leather jacket on my fingertips left behind. I stumbled back and reflected on what had happened again.

“Let’s go back.” He pushed me in the right direction extremely cautiously and began to walk behind me, leading and watching my step.

A minute has passed, and I couldn’t gather my thoughts. The fact that Richard Tozier followed me to the woods hasn’t hit me yet, as the bushy forest disappeared and I was once again at the school backyard.

“Try not to die when I’m gone, okay?” And with that, Richard has passed me from behind, hands in his pockets, with no intention of going back to biology class. His head down and back arched, somehow with grace, he disappeared, once again, leaving me trembling.

(goodbye (karaoke) by don’t hug me i’m scared OFF)

***

“Anyway, we’re going to the shopping center in Augusta, you should come with us, (y/n).” Jane awakes my consciousness once again.

“Huh? Sorry, what for?” Her stare deepens as she raises her eyebrows at me.

“To try on prom gowns.” Jane repeats slowly, visibly not concealing her annoyance with me. “(y/n), you didn’t forget, did you? Prom is in three weeks.” She scoffed. I did forget.

“No, of course not.” I tried laughing it off, but my acting skills weren’t top notch. “Yeah, sure, I’ll go with you. I have something to get in Augusta anyway.”

“Great, so it’s settled.” Emma speaks up. “Wednesday after school, we’ll go by a bus.”

***

It’ll be good to take my thoughts off Richard for a while. Or so I thought, but didn’t realize how far away it would be from Derry. By the time we got there, I was already exhausted. Augusta, being the capital of Maine, population 18,594 as of 2017, has still been nothing compared to Phoenix. I glanced at the flashy, yellow sticky note once again, memorizing the address written down on it. Jane and Emma found themselves trying on the fifth dress since they got in the mall.

“Does it make my boobs look bigger? I think it does.” Jane fixed the corset. “(y/n), what do you think?”

I looked up from the note and murmured. “It’s nice.”

“That’s what you said about the other three.” She sighed.

“It looks very good on you.” Emma helped me out, clearly satisfying Jane with that. I glanced at the hung up clock and cautiously stood up from my spot by the window.

“Hey guys, I’m gonna go grab something from the library real quick. I’ll see you at the restaurant.” Jane let out a silent “oh, okay” and I left.

Leaving the mall, it was no surprise to notice raindrops falling down onto the uneven pavement. Asking around, I got to the destination on my sticky note. The library was extremely cozy. All woody and traditional. It reminded me of my favorite Hollister store in Phoenix.

“Are you looking for something?” An old lady sitting behind the desk uttered in a raspy voice.

“Yes, um, I’m looking for ‘The History of Derry’. Is there a chance I could get it?” I smiled lightly and found myself caressing my unpainted fingernails.

“Just a minute.” She stood up and walked to the nearest wooden shelf. After fixing her glasses and running her finger through the book spines, she grabbed one by it’s headband and handed it over to me. The book was a square covered in brown leather, with black painted words on top. I payed for it and left.

(sweet dreams (are made of this) by emily browning ON)

“Have a good night.” I exclaimed as I walked out, and concluded with surprise that it was already dark outside. The air was humid and the street lights were dimmed. I hid the book inside my messenger bag, and trying to recall the directions to the mall, I entered the dark maze of grey buildings and narrow alleys. The claustrophobic street opened as I found myself in a dimmed and moist crossroad between abandoned buildings, looking scarier than I recalled. A band of men standing next to their rusting cars, noticed an intruder, being me.

“Hey, where ya goin’, sweet cheeks?” One of them exclaimed as I fastened my pace. They laughed and walked towards me. A four pack of beer flew from behind me, landing in the men’s in front of me hands. I acknowledged that I’m being circled.

“What are you up to so late at night, huh?” He caressed my chin as I turned my head in the other direction, almost tripping over. My brain was frozen in place like a wheel that could no longer turn. I was paralyzed by my own fear. I knew exactly what was about to happen but I could do nothing to stop it. Soon, I would be nothing more than a news story of a young, innocent girl found dead on the streets of Augusta. There was no one here to save me.

“Don’t touch me.” I muttered through clenched teeth. They continued to laugh and circle me tighter, from time to time whispering something to me. Trying to get a glimpse of my predators, I felt dizziness hitting me. They were close enough now that I could see the sick, twisted grins of the two men in front of me. I spun on my heel, only to see that the others had expressions that matched. They would enjoy this. I could see it on their faces.

"I want her first this time Jared," the man closest to me said to one of his companions.

"No fair! You got the last one first!" he replied, outraged.

"Boys, since you can't seem to stop fighting, I'm going to get her all to myself." The oldest looking one said. Tears filled my eyes, blurring my vision.

"Aw, come on!" the other man said. He came over to me and wrapped around the middle of my body. That one griped me so tightly he was going to leave bruises, not that it would really matter in the long run. "Such a pretty thing," he continued, stroking my face with his fingertips.

"Mmm..." his breathing began to speed up. Quick gusts of hot air were being blown onto my exposed skin. "Now where shall we begin?"

As I was about to shout for help, a violent tyre squeal made everyone jump away from the sound. As the men rushed back, I turned face to face with the familiar, matte black Toyota MR2. As I stared into the blinding lights of the car, the driver doors opened rapidly and a black figure walked out. In the dimmed light, his skin looked paler than ever, his eyes darker than in the sunlight.

“Get in the car.” He spit out as he pushed me towards the vehicle. I followed his command numb headed. Inside the car, I felt a gust of cologne hitting my nostrils. The upholstery was nice in touch and warm. I thrilled to the sensation as I observed a peculiar scene. Richard appeared to be having a staring contest with my predators. As they backed out, he slowly spun on his heel and got inside the car. Trembling, he did an irresponsible maneuver, almost hitting the men, then spun the car around and drove off violently. Holding onto the cup holder as much as I could, I heard a small ‘what the fuck’ coming out of his mouth. I glanced at his tense face.

“You followed me. Again.” I spoke numbly. Richard inhaled sharply.

“I was driving by.” I gaped unimpressed and observed his maneuver.

“You should put your seatbelt on.” He laughed at my nervousness, revealing his teeth.

“You put your seatbelt on.” He scoffed, fixing his grip on the steering wheel. I pushed my back against the passenger seat and stared at the road with no expression, as Richard drove dangerously, earning honks from the cars he has passed.

(sweet dreams (are made of this) by emily browning OFF)

***

“Where in the world have you been?” Jane exclaimed as I got out of the black matte car in front of the restaurant we were supposed to meet at. “We’ve waited for you over 3 hours! What the hell, (y/n)?” As I was about to apologize to Jane and Emma, a voice interrupted me.

“Sorry, it’s my fault.” Richard came out of his matte black car and smiled lightly at the girls, pushing his hair back, and making them gape uncontrollably. “We ran into each other and started talking. I lost the track of time.” He sure knew how to charm anyone. Jane tucked her hair behind her ear and exchanged the smile. “I thought (y/n) would be hungry, so I offered her a meal before a ride home, since it’s already dark outside.”

Jane and Emma looked at each other knowingly and grinned widely.

“No, I mean, of course. We were already leaving anyway, right, Jane?” Emma spit out, to which Jane nodded energetically.

“Yeah, so have a safe ride home, (y/n). See you at school.” She gave me a smile and passed me, giggling with Emma. I glanced at Richard, he seemed to be staring at me this whole time.

“A meal? Really?”

“What? If you’d rather stay with your best guy friends back there, you should’ve said so.” He spit out. “They sure seemed nice to me.” I rolled my eyes in annoyance as I followed him inside the restaurant. We sat down by the empty table with two seats. He handed me the menu. I glanced briefly at it, feeling his gaze on me.

“You know, I’m not that hungry.”

“Still, you should eat.” He didn’t move his stare off me.

“Why would you care?” I put the menu down. He thrilled to the sentence for a while. Before he could answer, a waitress with a punk hairstyle and heavy makeup approached our table.

“Hi there, how could I help you?” She says, swaying her hips and checking out Richard, as if I didn’t exist. He took a look at the menu for the first time and turned to the waitress.

“Cheese ravioli for this lady.” I looked away as he used his most seductive voice. She wrote something down.

“And something for you?”

“A glass of water would be great.” He smiled stunningly, making her blush.

“It’s on me.” The waitress winked at him and left, swaying her hips once again. He concentrated on me at last.

“What if I was lactose intolerant?” Richard laughed at my seriousness.

“Then I’d be in trouble.” He flashed his pearly white teeth at me and I looked away once more. I bit my lip awkwardly. I had so many questions buzzing in my head, none of them escaping my mouth. The feeling of confusion made me scream for a rest. I shouldn’t be afraid of him, definitely shouldn’t show him that. Who is he to me? No one, right. He’s no one.

“Why did you follow me?” A question rolled out of my mouth. His face was expressionless, making it even harder for me to read him.

“I already told you. I was driving by.” Does he take me for a dumbass? His eyes showed no emotions, yet lips formed into a thin line.

“Yeah, sure. Just like that time in the woods, right? You were just...” I crossed my arms. “Passing by.” Whatever he was doing, was not working on me. All of his lies and explanations. Richard smirked, looking down at his hands.

“I guess you could say so.” I scoffed in disbelieve. At this moment, the waitress trespassed our bubble of awkwardness and placed a glass of water in front of him. I gave her a death stare as she left. “You know...” He brought my attention back to him. “You’re so stubborn, why can’t you just thank me and forget all of this ever happened?”

“Listen.” I raised my voice, stern as ever. “I don’t know what it is that you’re doing, but I want you to tell me about Neibolt.” Richard stiffened. “I saw the way you reacted at the party when I said it’s name. I know you can tell me what it is.” His stare was no longer relaxed, brows furrowed and lips still formed into a thin line. “Please.”

He looked away for the first time. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I scoffed at his response.

“You’re kidding me, right? Of course you know what I’m talking about.” I exclaimed, but quickly hushed myself. “I want to know. I want to know what the Neibolt house is and why I’m having these god awful nightmares. I know it sounds crazy... but there’s something that pulls me towards it.” He sighed, as his gaze softened.

(midnight in the garden by atli örvarsson LOOP ON)

“See? Why are you like this?” My eyes widened, brows furrowed. “I tried avoiding you, keeping my cool, but you pulled me inside your world and now, it’s too late.” His tone was soft and vulnerable. Richard looked around as if someone was overhearing. “I want to know you. You seem like someone worth knowing. Every day, I feel like I’m surrounded by people with hard edges and sour faces, but I get the sense that you’re different. Too often people seem to think that they have the answers to everything. Their faces are trapped in permascowls and they can’t be bothered with anything besides their own narcissism. You aren’t like that. You still ask questions. You’re still looking for the answers...” The waitress cut him off, as she placed a plate before me. She smiled once again at Richard, but he didn’t exchange it, still tense. He sighed as she left.

“Weren’t you the one who told me to stay away from you?” I huffed, clenching my fists.

“I meant it would be better if we weren’t friends, not that I didn’t want to.”

I tried gathering my thoughts. Frustrated at not being able to answer him, I looked down at my plate and began to eat the already cold pasta. Did he just open up to me? I couldn’t believe he was the same Richard from school, cold and calm. I heard a chair squeak against the wooden floor as Richard stood up from his seat, hands in pockets.

“I need to go for a smoke.” He murmured and left. I noticed he left money to pay.

After a few minutes I couldn’t stand the tension and left a half full plate. As I walked out, I saw him leaned against his car, a cigarette in his mouth. He threw it out and crushed with his heel. We got in the car and he started the engine. His quietness was intimidating.

“Richard..” I broke the silence. “Please, I need you to tell me about Neibolt.” He fixed his grip on the steering wheel. I noticed he does that when he’s nervous. After a moment of silence, he spoke.

“Back there, in the woods, did you see a clown?” I wasn’t ready for such a question.

“I, uh, I guess. Yes? I think I did. I don’t remember much. I just know I saw a balloon, and when I followed it, it lead me to an old tree with a tree hole in it... Then something started coming out of it.” Richard fixed his grip again.

“Are you doing something tomorrow after school?” His voice was serious.

“No, I don’t think so.” Richard nodded to himself.

“Alright, I’ll show you something tomorrow.” As he said that, the car stopped. He got out the car and walked over to the passenger door, opening them. He leaned over to take my seatbelt off.

“I can do it myself.” I murmured coldly. I pressed my back against the seat, watching as he freezes before me. His side profile was right before my eyes, and I could smell his perfume very well. His jaw clenched as he took a deep breath. Richard backed out, almost embarrassed, and I got out of the car. We were outside my house. He closed the car doors behind me and once again glared at me. I exchanged the look, admiring his beauty. He truly is charming.

“Thanks.” I spit out looking down. I threw him an awkward half smile and proceeded to head home. I turned around at the doorstep and saw him leaning against his car, watching me. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” I spoke up once again, seeing his dark as night eyes and a hand raised goodbye last time, before closing front doors behind me.

(midnight in the garden by atli örvarsson OFF)

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