#like why does he have to be all mysterious

[luveline]

hiiii if you’re still looking for remus centered requests, i rly liked your best friend steve giving reader a hickey and couldn’t help but think of Remus too! like him helping a shy reader not feel insecure about being the ‘inexperienced’ one of their friend group… by giving her some experience 👀💞? love ya lots!

love u thank u for requesting<3

—Remus gives you your first kiss, and then a little more than that. You know, between friends. fem, 1.2k

“Will anyone kiss me tonight, or shall I go unkissed, like some leper?” 

You laugh at Sirius’ drama. “It’s not so terrible,” you say, coming up the hallway behind him and James, your face bitten by the cold. 

“I know, my lovely little blueberry muffin,” Sirius croons, leaning back and prodding at your cheeks, the smell of cider stuck to him like a cloud, “how you remain unkissed is a mystery to me. Shall we fix that now?” 

Sirius is your friend, he doesn’t poke fun, but you flush nervously at his question. James grabs Sirius by the shoulders and yanks him away from you toward the kitchen, “Stop teasing!” 

“I’m not teasing! I would love to kiss you, sweetheart, just as soon as I can figure out which one of you is the real one,” Sirius says. 

Remus laughs and closes the front door, the last one in. He wraps his hand around your shoulders. “He’d be so lucky,” he says loudly, sending a sulking, pouting Sirius in the opposite direction, James on his tail in giggles promising to feed him some unbuttered toast if he doesn’t chill out. 

Remus’ arm falls behind your back. “Why does he act like that? Four drinks and he’s in love with everyone. He gets so urgent.” 

You confess slowly, “I can’t say I blame him. Sometimes… I wish someone would kiss me quite urgently, and I don’t even need to get drunk.”

“You do?” 

“Just because I’ve never had one doesn’t mean I don’t want one,” you say, “it’s really weird being the only one who doesn’t– who isn’t dating anyone.” You fluster at your confession, worried it’s too much to share, even while his thumb rubs affectionately into your shoulder. 

“I’m not dating anyone,” Remus says. 

“No, but, going for hookups and stuff–”

You falter as he laughs. “You want one night stands?” 

“No,” you say honestly, “but still. You’ve all done that stuff and I’m like, a twenty something loser.” 

“You listen to Sirius too much. You have an entire life to find someone to kiss you.” 

“I sort of want it now, though,” you say meekly. 

Remus laughs again, his arm wrapping tightly behind your back. You’ve both had a drink too, not tipsy like Sirius but the buzz of it perhaps the cause of your loosened tongue, and his easy touching, his teasing. He smiles down at you kindly, “You want a kiss, is that it?” he asks, “Sirius has upset you and a kiss will make it better?” 

You find you love the feeling of his chest pressed to yours, “I don’t know. It would be nice to have one just so he can stop talking about it.” 

He pulls you right into him and angles his face against yours like he’s going to kiss you, his laughing a soft warmth on the tip of your nose. “You want it right now?” he asks, his hand rubbing sweetly into your back. Layers of fabric feel useless; it’s like he’s caressing naked skin. 

“You can’t kiss me,” you say. 

“Why not?” 

“We’re friends.” 

“What’s a good kiss between friends?” He’s following your eyes, he knows all your tones, Remus wouldn’t play with you like this if he thought it wasn’t what you wanted.

“I won’t know how to do it,” you warn in a whisper, you’re reluctance clearly fading.  

“Well, you’re very pretty, so any bad kissing cancels out.” 

You bend into him as his arm pulls you up, your noses nearly touching, closing your eyes as he leans in. 

“You sure?” he asks. 

“Mm,” you hum, though he doesn’t kiss you until you nod. 

Your noses press together most of all, the strongest sensation, but then there’s heat as his lips part so slightly and press into yours. He kisses upward and you have the sense to keep pressing down, letting his soft kisses move you with him, like an ebbing wave. You take an instinctive step back and he pauses, until you attempt to kiss him again and prompt him into movement —he takes the lead. His hands grasp at your back like you’re water slipping through his fingers, letting a sound of pleasure filter from his lips into yours. 

It’s so peculiar. It’s like fireworks, like all the books and movies say, but it’s more. It’s so warm, and his lips are soft even as his kissing turns rougher, as he tilts his head to the side and his lips come apart against yours. Your hand climbs hesitantly against his side, then up, then stuck at the place just above his ribs. 

“Touch me,” he says gently, breaking the kiss as your breath comes fast, “wrap your arm around me, it’s alright.” 

“Am I hopeless?” you ask, placing your arm behind his shoulder and tipping back to see his face. 

He shakes his head, frowning, why is he frowning? “Hopeless?” he repeats. His hand comes up to your face, and that’s almost as bad as the kiss, the heat of his palm on your face and his thumb stroking over the slope of your cheek. He uses that movement to turn your head, and when he ducks in for another kiss, he murmurs, “No, I wouldn’t say hopeless,” the end of it lost on your lips. 

This kiss is rougher again. Your heart beats so loudly you can hear the thump of it in your ears as your eyes close and you attempt to fit a hundred wanted kisses into one. He just squeezes you close and returns your enthusiasm, until you can’t breathe, forced to hang your head over his shoulder as you pant for air. 

Remus kisses your neck. It’s a shock: you squirm at the sensation but let your head fall to the side as he does it again, not nearly as insistent as his lips had been on yours but something unsaid in the trail of his nose as it runs back up your neck and he kisses the skin below your ear. He slows, and slows, until he’s pulling away to stare at you. 

You lift yourself up, nonplussed. “I didn’t know it felt like that.” 

Remus shifts his hand from the side of your neck to the front, wiping at the marks of his kissing with his thumb where it wets your skin. “It doesn’t always.” He smiles at you with just a hint of smugness in his eyes. “I don’t suppose you want to know what a love bite feels like?” 

“Oi!” James calls from the kitchen. “What are you two doing?” 

You pull apart slowly from one another. You think he might’ve forgotten where you were, as did you. 

James catches the fall of Remus’ hand where it had been on your cheek and squints suspiciously. “What are you guys doing? I made toast.” 

You can’t look at him. Remus saves the day. “We’re looking for her earring.” 

“You won’t find it with the lights off.” He glares again with suspicion before turning back to the kitchen. “I didn’t even know she wore earrings,” he mutters. 

Remus gives you a sideways look. “Maybe I can show you what it feels like after?” he suggests, voice measured. 

“Between friends?” you ask. 

“No.” He puts his hand to the small of your back and gives you a gentle nudge down the hallway. “Not between friends.” 

#remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x fem!reader #remus lupin fluff #remus lupin x you #remus lupin x y/n #marauders era #remus x reader #remus x you #marauders #remus lupin drabble #remus lupin blurb #marauders x reader #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin fanfic #remus lupin fanfiction #the marauders

[strawberrycarat]

Why there are a lot of people suddenly concerning Ewan is "not genuine" or they miss "the old pixel days" because they thought that was the "real Ewan" ? He's an actor, actors must promote their work (unless they're so successful or so known they don't have to do it, which is so rare and only among the top of the stars of Hollywood).

Is Ewan shy ? Probably. We don't know him personally. We can guess he is for what he shows in interviews or what other co-stars say about him (all of them talking positive about Ewan btw).

So why the change ? Because HE'S AN ACTOR ! And one that is starting to ascend so he must be more active with his career. If he wants to keep acting lead and/or interesting roles, he has to obtain some sort of recognition from the public because, let's being honest, it's not a career that is always kind with the most talented people out there. To become a successful actor or artist, in general, you NEED that. And Ewan is not an exception. So, if he doesn't want to have social media, he must promote himself somewhere else, right ? Like interviews, magazine photos, etc.

And even with his interviews, Ewan is a mystery to myself and others. He talks mostly about his roles, and he keeps his private life within himself (like there are tiny details about him or his mates or his hobbies, but that's it - in comparison with other actors, it's practically nothing).

Does the agency has something to do with Ewan's "new attitude" most likely. It's an agency ! They are aware Ewan is getting a lot of attention (more than before, with the Last Kingdom, for example, where they didn't "force" him to go to conventions - I remember one of his co-stars said Ewan was most likely never appear in one of those ? - and he did ! why ? because he needs to promote since he's one of the leads). Does this mean he hates it ? Probably not ! it's, after all, the result of his work (having fans, traveling around the world, being recognized for his hard, hard work). Does this mean he stopped being shy ? probably not, but, if he wants to be a good representative of the show and his own brand (because, again, he's an actor, he's selling his entire image!) he needs to act accord to the situation. It is clear he still has some kind of "shy ticks" (like looking at the ground sometimes or repeating the same word to continue the flow with his speech or even playing with his hands). A shy person can still become "extrovert" when the situation requires - like a presentation or something really important.

So, with the agency... it is clear they're helping Ewan all they can (otherwise we'll probably get him in Adidas all the time) so they probably got him a team to help him dress, PR stuff, etc. It doesn't mean he's not being genuine with this "new personality" -as some called- on the interviews or his interactions with fans... it only means he's doing his job. It Is clear Ewan is a private person and probably want to keep a lot of things hidden (it's, after all, his choice to share or not), but as an actor, a not so recognized actor in this moment -yes, he's getting attention for Aemond, but in the reality he doesn't have the fame-level as Matt Smith, for example- so he must work for it so he can have more work opportunities.

This, of course, is only my opinion as a fan that admires his work and his persona (at least what we can see from this side).

#ewan mitchell #aemond targaryen #let Ewan do his job and just enjoy the promos ! #hotd #house of the dragon

[queen-of-deans-booty]

Deadly Proposal: Part Five

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~2.5k

Warnings: angst, drug use (cocaine), heartbreak

Summary: Amber takes it a step too far when she throws a party at Dean's house. She crosses a line completely when she reverts back to her old self, and you are done breaking your back for her.

Deadly Proposal Masterlist

Square Filled: force feeding for @badthingshappenbingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

x

The fight with your sister and Dean made it so you couldn’t sleep well last night. You slide out of bed, throw on something to wear that’s semi-appropriate, and head down to the kitchen. You’re not expecting to see anyone but Sonja, so you’re surprised when Amber is sitting at the kitchen island. She gives you a side glance but doesn’t say anything to you.

“I thought you were leaving.”

“I know you want me gone but my boyfriend didn't show.”

“I never said I wanted you gone,” you sigh. “I was frustrated yesterday, and I said something I didn’t mean. I’m sorry.”

“Whatever,” she shrugs. “Looks like you’re stuck with me.”

You sit at the kitchen counter and turn to her.

“Why don’t you and I go into town today and look for jobs? You said you were going to try.”

“Yeah, maybe we can do that later.”

“You need to do it sooner rather than later. Dean only gave you a week here.”

“What are you, my mom?” she scoffs.

She leaves her untouched food on the counter and storms to her room. Your shoulders sag in defeat but you don’t dwell for long. Sonja takes her food away and sets a plate in front of you with a kind smile on her face.

“Thanks, Sonja.”

As you eat, you think about Dean and your fight. Was it a fight? You know you’re not supposed to feel anything for him since you’re just a blood bag for him but the more he drinks from you, the more you crave him. Not just him, but his time and attention as well. You want to know so much about him but he doesn’t give you much to work with. He’s so mysterious and it’s driving you insane.

The thing with Amara isn’t sitting well with you either. You hated how jealous you got when she came over. She’s so beautiful, and may or may not have been involved with Dean. You subconsciously touch the wounds on your neck that have mostly healed. What did she mean when she said your blood was special? She said that she’d never smell anything like it, but doesn’t she smell blood all the time? No, that was carnal behavior. Dean talked to her but you’re not sure what he said to her. Does he even care?

No, screw this. You’re not going to sit here and continue to wonder. You’re going to get answers now. After you’re done eating, you walk upstairs to where Dean’s office is. Your hand hovers over the doorknob as doubt begins to creep inside your mind. Would he give you the time of day? Would he send you to your room like a petulant child?

“I can hear you breathing, you know,” Dean says from inside.

It’s now or never. You open the door and walk inside. Dean is sitting at his desk typing quickly on his laptop.

“What are you doing?”

“Nosy much?” he smirks.

“I can’t help it.” You shrug. “I’m bored and you’re not paying attention to me.”

Dean chuckles and leans back in his chair to give you his undivided attention.

“If you must know, I’m working.”

“You have a job?” you gasp in a teasing tone.

Dean shakes his head with a smile he can’t resist. “Yes.”

“What is it you do?”

“Nothing you need to know about.”

You walk over to his desk, sit across from him, and cross your legs.

“Do you realize you’re always brooding or does it come naturally to you?” Dean rolls his eyes and continues typing. “So, where’s your brother? I’m assuming you have one, right?”

“Are we doing this right now?”

“Fine.” You pause. “Do you have any parents?” He doesn’t reply. “I’m going to keep asking you questions until you answer.”

“Fine.” Dean groans and pushes his laptop away to pay attention to you. “You have five minutes. Go.”

“How old are you?”

“Over half a millennium. Seven hundred and sixty-two years if you want to get specific.”

“How did you become a vampire?”

“I was working a hunt when I was human. Vampires. They got to me before I could get to them. I’ll spare you the bloody details.”

“What do you do for work?”

“I help women escape their abusers.”

You’re taken aback. You did not expect that to come from him. You want to know more but then you’d use up your five minutes and you need to more about him.

“You made it sound like you had a family. Any siblings?”

“Dead.”

“Parents?”

“Dead.”

“Are all your friends dead, too?” Dean cracks a smile and looks away to try and hide it. Your smile fades slowly. “Are you going to kill me when you’re done with me?”

“No.”

“Why me? Why take me out of everyone you could have taken?”

“I already told you.”

“Yeah, my ‘special blood’,” you scoff. “What does that mean? Amara said I had special blood, too. What makes me special?”

“You remind me of someone I used to know. She had the same blood you did. In fact, you two are more similar than I’d care to admit. Maybe I don’t want to be alone anymore. Maybe she was the best thing to have happened to me in a long time, and I want to have that again.” Your mouth goes agape as you try and process his words. He clears his throat and pulls his laptop closer to him. “Times up. Now get out and let me work.”

That’s more than you thought you’d get so you won’t complain. You get up as he continues typing, and you walk to the door slowly. You look back at him but he doesn’t spare you another glance. Since you don’t want to see Amber and Dean doesn’t want to hang with you, you decide to hang out in your room for the next few hours either reading, playing video games, or browsing Amazon for new stuff for your room.

It’s nearing dinner time so you get out of bed to see what Sonja has made. When you open the door, you hear music blasting from downstairs and commotion that sounds like chatter coming from a huge crowd. You take the stairs down two at a time to see people filing into Dean’s house. Strangers who are already inside hold red cups filled with God only knows what. This is a party. Dean would never throw a party and you didn’t, and there is only one person here that would.

You push past everyone to get to the living room where Amber is sitting on the couch with two nasty-looking men. Unkempt hair, dirty clothes, and yellow nails.

“Amber! What the hell are you doing?!”

“It’s a party!” she grins. “I was bored of staying in this house with nothing to do.”

“Fuck, Amber! This isn’t your house.”

“It’s not yours either. Plus, Dean is almost always gone. He won’t mind, I’m sure.”

How did you ever think you could change her? How did you ever think she would be willing to change? You’re about to respond to her when you feel a hand wrap around your arm. Dean pulls you away from Amber and to an empty room nearby. He shoves you inside the room and slams the door behind him with a deadly glare on his face.

“Dean, I am so sorry. I didn't know she was doing this. All these people just showed up,” you stutter. “God, she always does shit like this. I shouldn’t have brought her here.”

“Yeah, no shit,” Dean glares. “Get rid of them.”

“Yeah, you got it.”

“I mean it, Y/N. I am a vampire and this party is filled with blood bags. Get rid of them before I do.”

Your eyes widen when you realize the threat behind his words. You leave the room and push through the sea of people that seemed to get bigger from ten minutes ago. You grab a few cups from people but they pass you by without another thought.

“Party’s over! You need to leave!” you shout over the loud music. No one is listening to you so you push your way to the DJ who is spinning the record player. “Hey! You need to stop. The party is over!”

“Get lost,” he says and continues playing music.

The control is slowly leaving your body and you start to panic. People are doing body shots off of other people, some are in the pool half-naked, and some are playing beer pong and doing drugs, among them is Amber. From the DJ stand, you can see over everyone’s head and to the couch where you left Amber. There are white lines on the table, one of which she sniffs up her nose. You don’t think anyone can hear your heart break over the music.

You jump off the platform and push through the crowd to get to her. She sniffs up another line of drugs when you yank on her hair.

“What the fuck?”

“Are you serious right now?”

“Great, it’s the fun police,” she giggles with her friends. She grabs her alcohol bottle and takes a few swigs. “You need to lighten up, Y/N. Have fun. Get drunk. Get laid. Where’s Dean?”

Tears prick the back of your eyes. “This isn’t funny, Amber. This is my life. You come in and ruin everything! You’re poison and a parasite. I don’t even know why I helped you in the first place!”

Amber glares but she is too high to care enough to bite back.

“Let’s play Seven Minutes in Heaven!” she shouts. A few people cheer her on as she shugs the rest of her alcohol. Some drops fall from her mouth when she pulls the bottle away but she wipes it away with the back of her hand. “Y/N, you go first!”

“No, I’m not playing, Amber. Seriously, the party is over.”

Amber doesn’t listen and spins the bottle on the now drug-free table. The bottle spins and lands on a spot that’s right behind you, and she grins when she sees who is standing there.

“Dean, you gotta go in the closet with Y/N.”

You turn swiftly and see Dean standing there with an emotionless face. Shit, he looks pissed. Someone grabs your shoulder and pushes you and Dean into the nearest closet. The door closes before you can say anything. 

“I’m so sorry,” you whisper.

“I don’t care about the party, anymore.” Dean steps closer to you, puts a hand on the wall behind you, and leans in closer to you. “What are you doing to me?”

“What do you mean?” you whisper.

“I can’t get you out of my head. You’re so different from her.” You can only assume he’s talking about the woman before you. He’s so close that your heart is racing a million miles a second. He leans in so close that you think he is going to kiss you but he doesn’t. He’s stopping himself as if kissing you is the most horrible thing to do. You sigh in disappointment which Dean picks up on. “Fuck it.”

He turns back to you, grabs both sides of your head, and kisses you so deeply that your knees immediately go weak. He holds you close and takes complete control over the kiss. His lips mold to yours like they were always meant to be there. His tongue touching yours sends sparks flying down your body. Your head is swirling too quickly for you to keep up, and all you can smell is him.

He finally pulls away from you and you lean against the wall to steady yourself. Dean doesn’t say a word and leaves the closet since the seven minutes are up. You touch your lips with a shaky hand as you force yourself to calm your racing heart and mind. Amber is gone from the couch when you leave the closet but you don’t care about her. You storm over to the DJ who is taking a water break and snatch the microphone from the stand.

“Party is over. Get out. The police have been called and are on their way!”

That does it for most. They scatter like startled cats and the rest leave because everyone else is. Soon, the house is empty and covered with trash and empty bottles. You’ll clean this later but right now, there is one person on your mind who you need to deal with. It’s not hard to find your sister when she is vomiting her guts out in the downstairs bathroom. You don’t care if you get vomit on you. You yank her away from the toilet by her hair and pull her toward the door.

“Wait, Y/N, I’m sorry. Please don’t do this,” she cries.

“You’re done, Amber. You’re not living here anymore.”

“Please, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I won’t do it again,” she sobs.

You drag her to the front door and throw her out on her ass. She has tears running down her face and looks at you with a heartbroken look.

“Please, Y/N, don’t do this to me.”

“No, I am not doing this again. Go find somewhere else to sleep, and go find someone else who will give a shit about you because I am done.”

With that, you slam the door in her face. You start to clean the house from the partygoers but that doesn’t distract you from Amber’s cries on the front porch. You continue to ignore her until she stops which means she either fell asleep on the porch or she left. A quick check through the window tells you it’s the latter.

Amber stumbles from the house in tears and down the long driveway to the road. She has no idea where she is going to go but maybe there is a homeless shelter that might take her for the night. She pulls her thin jacket tighter against herself since it’s starting to get cold outside. She walks further down the road when she hears the rumble of a car behind her. Maybe she can hitch a ride to town.

She turns and puts her hand out to avoid being blinded by the headlights. The car slows down next to her, and the driver rolls down the passenger side window.

“Can I get a ride into town, please?”

“Hop in,” the man says.

Amber is quick to hop inside the car where the heater is gently blowing.

“Sorry if I seem like a mess. My sister just kicked me out of her life, basically. I know I’m a fuck up. I fuck up all the time. I understand why she would but she’s my sister. We’re supposed to stick together through thick and thin, you know? So I do a bit of drugs. So what?”

“You poor girl,” the man says. “I can help you.”

Amber looks up and sees he hasn’t moved the car since she got in. She glances over at him in confusion. He has a beer belly, hairy arms, a scraggly beard, and dark eyes.

“How?”

The man grins with sharp fangs where his canines should be. He grabs Amber and sinks his teeth into her neck. Amber screams for her life but no one is around to hear them. He’s right about one thing: poor girl.

x

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary​​​​​​ where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

#dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester fic #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester fanfic #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester angst #supernatural #supernatural fic #supernatural fanficition #supernatural fanfic #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural fluff #supernatural angst

[milquetoast27]

Subtext in The Creeping Man

I find that this story of Arthur Conan Doyle's Holmes canon features some of the most complex subtext we've had aside from A Study in Scarlet. But rather than being complex early-on because of our lack of knowledge of the characters, it is rather complicated by the fact that we both know too much and too little of their relationship. This story, with astonishing subtlety, conveys the cooperative relationship between Doyle's two characters — the nuance in their limits and strains, but also the joys that they work to reach, together. It emblemises the beauty of the Canon, where it all ties back to the joy and complexity of human understanding and belonging.

This story opens in "those latter days" (1903, near to Holmes's retirement) where Watson describes their relations as "peculiar". The word certainly feels like a euphemism from the ever-polite Dr. Watson, when it is soon made clear that their relations were far from amenable. Watson has become one of Holmes's "concentrated habits", and apparently is as good as a piece of funiture, as all of Holmes's remarks would have been as "appropriately addressed to his bedstead." It's given through snapped sentences; "I was a whetstone for his mind. I stimulated him. He liked to think aloud in my presence." This "irritation" and discordance between them is extremely concentrated in the early pages of this story, but drags through it, as well. Take, for example, the "laconic" (or perhaps iconic?) message:

"COME AT ONCE IF CONVENIENT — IF INCONVENIENT COME ALL THE SAME. S.H."

Watson gives us the original of Holmes's telegram to demonstrate to his readers just how "long-suffering" he is. A true exhaustion is apparent in how he simply shows the telegram, rather than politely referring to it. Compare this with the unendingly civil telegram sent to Watson in The Boscombe Valley Mystery, and you can see the great shift that has taken place in their alliance.

"HAVE YOU A COUPLE OF DAYS TO SPARE? HAVE JUST BEEN WIRED FOR FROM THE WEST OF ENGLAND IN CONNECTION WITH BOSCOMBE VALLEY TRAGEDY. SHALL BE GLAD IF YOU WILL COME WITH ME. AIR AND SCENERY PERFECT. LEAVE PADDINGTON BY THE 11.15."

While long-term and intimate relationships will remove need for over-courtesey, there are two very different reasons for why Doyle has shown both of these telegrams at a point in time. This accumulation of Holmes's ungrateful behaviour not only imparts Watson's utter despondancy, but also, importantly, Holmes’s — and this is something that Watson's ever-perceptive and intelligent heart does not fail to miss. It is important to note that this story nears Holmes's retirement, where he acknowledges that he has been "sluggish in mind". There is no doubt, then, that the great detective is out of his prime. Hence the temperementalness, taking his Watson for granted, and a heavier reliance on those "narrow and concentrated habits."

Despite the turbulent roads of their life, we see Watson's undying devotion co-exist with it. Past all the irritation, Watson closes, "Such was my humble role in our alliance." It is more than clear that he consciously makes the decision to remain at Holmes's side, to be his ally. Such has always been Watson's role in their alliance. His "humble" service extends to his practice as doctor and soldier. His pride is in his duty to others, and to Holmes as his assistant.

There is something that shines through Holmes's unsocial behaviour when we look closely at the text.

I sank back in my chair in some disappointment. Was it for so trivial a question as this that I had been summoned from my work? Holmes glanced across at me. "The same old Watson!" said he. "You never learn that the gravest issues may depend upon the smallest things."

We know from the Canon (opening of DANC and RESI) that Watson's emotions are like an open book to Holmes. This 'sinking in some disappointment' is not missed by Holmes's 'glance'. "The same old Watson!" he says, and I feel it important to note that he compliments one of Watson's most distinguishing features; his stability and fixture — the "one fixed point in a changing age." Yet, we may miss these details, because Holmes, ever in his own insecurity, must back-hand every praise with a teasing chide. We could say that an attempt was made to cheer Watson up, though not very successful.

Developments continue, as Holmes tryingly says "I had hoped to have a longer chat with you", then parades him with compliments before their client, "Dr. Watson is the very soul of discretion". But mixed indications continue to come as he flips back to patronising language; "You will appreciate it, Watson, when"—. Doyle further cements Holmes's particular unbecoming behaviour on this day as he further also annoys their client, who speaks in a "tone of reproach" when Holmes does not listen, and is "clearly annoyed" at irrelevant interruptions — to which, Holmes only smiles in, what I believe, is pure self-importance.

Here we find a shift — a greater effort on Holmes's part, a second round of appreciation for Watson's stability, even when his opinion is faulty. "Good, Watson! You always keep us flat-footed on the ground". He's then included in his bubble; "We were gradually coming to that conclusion, were we not, Watson?", and even a sordid attempt at bringing Watson with him on the bait of the Chequers in 'Camford' where "the port used to be above mediocrity and the linen was above reproach." (Which he follows up on!)

And, despite these attempts, their connection still does not rekindle. Watson is clearly irritated still with the inconsiderate easiness with which Holmes was able to leave London, leaving only difficulty on Watson's end to join him. It's an indicator from Doyle that nothing's remedied, yet.

Here is an interesting passage for study.

"Have you the effrontery necessary to put it through?" "We can but try." "Excellent, Watson! Compound of the Busy Bee and Excelsior. We can but try — the motto of the firm."

Burstive praise from Holmes at the merest utterance of a phrase — a phrase which has only ever been used one other time in the Canon; the previous story, The Problem of Thor Bridge. This suggests it may be some small motto of Holmes's, though one not often seen in Watson's records — this makes his use of the phrase a very Holmesian approach. This participation, no doubt, is nothing but a delight for Holmes, who is trying to restring their relationship, and continues to overenthusiastically affirm Watson's sturdiness.

Yet it's made clear that superficial praises are not a true apology, as we see signs yet again of Watson's dispassion. As they sit to their meeting with Professor Presbury, Watson writes:

Mr. Holmes smiled amiably.

This sentence may seem unassuming, but be assured it is one of the coldest in the Canon. This usage of "Mr. Holmes" is entirely unique within the Canon. In other times, when Watson has used "Mr. Holmes" or "Mr. Sherlock Holmes", it has been when speaking directly to his readers, since they would be using the honourific. This moment is the only exception, where Watson has intentionally used "Mr." to create distance and convey undesire for intimacy with Holmes (rather than any professional effect). Why has Watson used the line here? Well, Holmes is 'smiling amiably' — in a way that forces a friendly manner, one that attempts to create a good impression with Professor Presbury — which also didn't work out, by the way. Considering all the superficial means up to now employed by Holmes on his companion, Watson no doubt feels cheapened and no more important than Holmes's investigative objects; as if his trust is just as easy to gain as anyone else's, with nothing but an 'amiable smile'.

We are shown time and again that Watson isn't pleased with Holmes's desultory attempts at reconciliation, until finally, a shift happens. One that is not identifiable in the text, and so is reasonable to assume happened unpenned. We find Holmes acknowledging that "Dr. Watson has his patients to attend to", when before this information seemed completely irrelevant to him. Holmes even sent Watson a "short note asking [him] to meet at the train"! The greatest change is when we finally have Watson using "my friend" and "my comrade" for the first time in this story. Now we see Watson taking real excitement in the case, in the "assurance of [his] comrade". Self-teasing also makes its way into their dialogue as Holmes cries "Oh, Watson, Watson, what a fool I have been!" The emphasised address seems to suggest an apology for something more. It's as if he cries 'Look how wrong I have been Watson, how imperfect and daft I can be!' It's adorable, really.

All semblances of reproach towards Holmes disappear as they steal together in darkness, come to the dénoument of their adventure, as Holmes philosophises on science and nature, and described admiringly as "the man of action". Our story ends in a light-hearted resolution, as always.

"There is an early train to town, Watson, but I think we shall just have time for a cup of tea at the Chequers before we catch it."

To conclude, this story presents so much so subtly in its pages; a reflection of the small, nuanced and unseen processes between human beings, but those which we must be attentive to in order to find fuller understanding between each other. Yet, there is still much uncertainty in my inferences; which also shows the uncertainty of lanugage and communication. We simply must be clear of ourselves, as we can only assume Holmes and Watson were, off-page, for them to have found that resolution, rather than fleeting smiles and compliments. Arthur Conan Doyle, with this story, further cements the triumph of bonds and connection, perhaps far more than any other of his stories.

#acd canon #sherlockian scholarship #sherlock holmes #acd holmes #classic literature #literature analysis #victorian husbands #fun fact I bummed out the LFW server with the “Mr. Holmes smiled amiably” line #was worried this was too long but I think all of this is necessary for my point #CREE is so underrated! I think it's brilliant for this reason #I don't actually care for the mystery. it's shit #the real mystery is whether Holmes and Watson actually made up while in Camford or not #ACD how are you so insanely good at subtext. you put so many treasures in the text for me to find and puzzle over. i love you #hashtag the indomitable human spirit #I could have also commented on some way more suggestive lines but they didn't feel relevant to this analysis #it doesn't actually matter if they're fucking or not sorry guys

[kitabearuwu]

Been thinking to myself lately about Ben’s girlfriend and have a theory to share 😼🙏

MAJOR CHAOS THEORY SPOILERS AHEAD

Here’s a compilation of all the evidence that Brooklynn is Ben’s girlfriend (but probably in disguise) and that we will see her come into the story soon

1.) The repeated yet cryptic mentions of her.

Ben mentioned his girlfriend only twice in the show, first framed as a joke and again in a more serious tone later. Both times, he was interrupted/questioned while talking about her and didn’t get to share any details. This usage of her presence tells the audience that she is important in some way, and leaves us to speculate on her role in the story. If Ben was lying about having a girlfriend, it would’ve been a one off gag and not mentioned in a serious light later on. Because we have no details to go off of with her, it makes her much more of a mystery to the audience.

2.) She lives in an unspecified country in Europe.

The series is set a couple of months before Dominion. If you all recall, the underground dinosaur market was featured heavily in Dominion, and the market they infiltrated was based in Valletta, Malta, which is in Europe. What does Brooklynn just so happen to be tracking in Chaos Theory?

Illegal dinosaur purchases.

We have no idea where she is at the moment, but if Brooklynn is currently in Europe and has been since she “died”, she could very well be tracking the market in Malta. It’s possible she’d want a “man on the inside” of sorts, and by connecting with Ben, she’d be able to keep track the N5 without revealing herself to be alive.

3.) The N5 boarded a boat that is going somewhere unspecified to meet a broker.

The boat they’re on is carrying a lot of illegally owned dinosaurs, and if they’re off to meet a broker, it’s entirely possible the boat is headed to one of the market checkpoints around the world. Darius listed a couple of them off as they walked through the storage unit, and one of the countries he mentioned was Malta.

If the N5 end up in Malta and are tracking the purchases at the same time as Brooklynn, who seems to be tracking the same boat and the events surrounding it as seen at the end of the show, they’ll see her there at some point no doubt.

It would also make sense for them to end up in Malta because the atrociraptors are in Malta by Dominion. If they end up going to Malta in Chaos Theory and defeating The Handler there, Soyona Santos could very easily take over the raptors there in Malta instead of receiving them elsewhere.

4.) When they put out a casting call for “Sydney”, the character they used as a cover for Brooklynn, they gave her an unnecessary backstory.

It would’ve been just as easy to put out the casting call and keep all information about her a secret besides the basics, but they shared a lot about her, like the fact that she was supposedly a child actress now working to expose the industry for mistreatment, or that she lost her arm protecting her friends. These details that were shared about her were unnecessary to think of at all, unless they actually plan to USE those details in the show. They could be part of the identity she’s using to date Ben. This could also explain why her name has been kept from the audience, because if she’s going by Sydney, we’d be able to guess that she’s not who she says she is with a little research.

5.) Brooklynn and Ben both use Dark Jurassic, and could have easily connected there.

Brooklynn knew how much of an avid user Ben was of Dark Jurassic, and could’ve easily forced a connection with him on there somehow since she would’ve known his account information and such. If they didn’t connect directly on the website, they could’ve easily connected off the website over a shared interest in Dark Jurassic and conspiracy theories. Brooklynn and Ben were shown to be pretty close before her “death”, and so it’s likely that Brooklynn would know how to befriend him/what values would get him interested in a connection in the first place.

I really wouldn’t put it past the show runners to pull some twist like this, especially with how Brooklynn’s character has been framed as someone willing to do ANYTHING for information. She said herself that she isn’t afraid to get her hands dirty, and fake dating one of her friends to get trusted information or to build on theories of her own etc seems like something she’d be willing to do if she felt it necessary for her investigation.

Regardless of whether this theory ends up being true or not, I’m excited to see where they take her character in season 2!

#jwct #jurassic world chaos theory #jurassic world dominion #an actual theory #for chaos theory 🔥 #jwct ben #ben jwct #jwct brooklynn #ben pincus #I wish Brooklynn had a last name #god dammit

[joshsjipple]

Stranger In The Dark

JAKE KISZKA X FEMALE READER

A/N: Hey, guys! Sorry for being inactive for the past month but I’ve been working on a new project I will soon be releasing! In the meantime, enjoy this oneshot!

Word Count: 5.5k

WARNINGS: 18+ graphic sexual content, unprotected sex (be smart), dirty talk, praise kink, spit kink, slapping kink, language, alcohol consumption, stranger fuck, some dom jake, sir kink, rough sex, fingering, oral sex (f&m rec), slight hair pulling, slight edging, teasing, throat fucking, etc etc.

╚══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╝

A month ago you would have had to be dragged out of your house, kicking and screaming, before ever being caught spending your Friday night with anyone else besides your bed. But here you are, wedged in the back of an old rundown bar in the middle of nowhere, a half hour from your apartment, voluntarily.

Your best friend from work had somehow convinced you to join her tonight, but of course, she’s twenty minutes late. You wait for her with your legs crossed and your thumb circling the brim of a beer bottle placed in front of you. Pretending to be deep in thought to scare off any approaching strangers, your eyes scan the view in front of you.

It’s like any other old bar scene; dull and boring. Around you sit many older men, sullen and depressed, lazily sipping from their third or fourth beer of the night. The whole atmosphere appears gloomy and unwelcoming, making you wonder why the hell your friend chose this location of all places. The dim building beckoned gullible people in by the glow of the neon sign before sucking them into a depression for the rest of the evening with cheap drinks and impolite staff. Despite the shallow crowd, the speakers still boomed with deafening music, the vibrations humming against the underside of your thigh.

Your eyes fall short on a figure in the corner leaning against the wall. From what you can tell, he has longer hair and is dressed in a pirate-like state. He has a drink in one hand and holds it with a bent arm at his side. You feel as though he’s watching you, but the shadow he’s hiding in makes it nearly impossible to tell.

Your phone begins to vibrate aggressively across the table, bouncing across the wood to get your attention. You quickly grab the device, throwing apologetic glances to everyone around you who gives you the slightest bit of attention.

Hey. Look I’m really sorry about tonight but I can’t make it. Luke showed up at my door and wanted to talk…

You sigh at your friend's words, tossing your gaze back to the corner where the mysterious man once occupied. It’s vacant now, no trace of the man left besides an empty glass on a nearby table. As you listen to your friend ramble on about her ex boyfriend, you search for him. Scanning the few labored bodies that surround the island up front, you look for a man with longer hair. You spot a few but you know it can’t be him—it doesn’t feel like him.

Finally, you spy him. He’s hunched over the island with his back to you, requesting a drink from the waitress serving him. She nods politely and disappears for a moment, only returning once his order is filled. She laughs at something he says, her short blonde hair dancing around her shoulders as she does so. The man doesn’t turn around, making you all too interested to put a face to this rather attractive body.

Are you mad?

You nearly forgot you were on the phone.

Maybe. You could have told me sooner.

Your friend begins apologizing profusely in your ear, but all you’re able to focus on is the unknown man who’s turning around. You’re able to see him now, your heart skipping a beat in the process. Dressed in a black undershirt that exposes nearly all of his chest entirely with an abundance of silver pendants laying on the skin, he catches your attention. He’s wearing a black jacket over the bottom layer, obviously meant to protect him from the fierce winter winds of Michigan. He has black slacks on and some form of print on his shoes that are slightly heeled and pointed. The man, once again, has a drink pressed to his side.

Please say something.

Your mind comes back to you but your words don’t when you realize the man has caught you staring. Quickly, you face the opposite direction and turn your full attention back to your friend in hopes of chasing him off.

I’m not mad, I just wish you had said something earlier so I didn’t need to stay in this hell-hole for a half hour without you.

You begin complaining to your friend as your peripheral vision catches the man nearing your table.

Is it that bad?

You swallow thickly, your throat going dry as you fear the absolute worst from the strange man.

Yes. My beer is warm and the music sucks.

When you realize your plan of keeping to yourself has failed, you play it off by giving the man a brief glance. He stands at the edge of your table, his arms crossed and a smirk plastered on his pink lips.

I’m sorry but I have to go. We will reschedule, okay?

You want to beg her to stay on the line; tell her the situation you’ve got yourself into to stall the ticking time bomb of talking to the man. Before you’re even able to muster out a goodbye, the line goes silent and you’re left there staring at the man in front of you, dreading this position you’ve fallen into.

“Can I help you?” You ask once you remove your phone from your ear, keeping it in your hand in case you need to call for help.

“I’ve never seen you here before,” the man says, his tone rather soft and quiet and contradicting his appearance. “I mean, it makes sense because I’ve never been here before,”

Your face is expressionless as you watch a smile form on his face, just briefly, before slipping back into a smirk.

He turns to acknowledge the vacant seat in front of you. “May I?”

You nod without hesitation and watch him fall into the booth just a few feet in front of you. He sets his drink on the table with a small clink and lingers in your ears for a few seconds as he situates himself.

“You don’t like the music?” He finally asks, a finger pointing to the speaker above your head.

Your shoulders relax enough for you to grab your beer and bring it to your lips. “I’ve heard better,”

The man raises an eyebrow and watches you take a swig of the alcohol. “Like what?”

You shrug, eyes faltering from him. You feel belittled by his presence but you refuse to let it show so you sit up straight and look him in the eyes. “Well, if you’re talking about rock, Led Zeppelin’s got tons of good shit,”

“I know,” he grins, picking his drink back up by the glass rim. “A bit basic, don’t you think?”

You watch him flick his wrist, the ice inside the cup swirling around in the brown frothy liquid. His arm sleeve falls down slightly at the position he holds his arm at, revealing tons of silver stamped bracelets.

“Well, I’m not a music critic, I’m just answering your question,” you say.

“Care to answer another?” His big brown eyes stare at you, never faltering from your face. He’s intimidating as hell, but you show no signs of it. Instead, you nod. “Why were you watching me?”

You feel the heat crawling up your back. It wraps around your shoulders and creeps up your neck before engulfing your face. You take another drink, trying to calm your nerves before opening your mouth to speak. You had never been good at confrontation.

“I could say the same to you,” you finally speak, holding your tone like your life depends on it.

He likes your answer, giving you a small nod before downing the rest of his drink. “Are you lonely?”

You can feel your cheeks flaming hot and you’re certain he can see your flustered reaction. Scoffing, you avert your gaze to the folded hands in your lap. Gathering your thoughts and courage, you return to find him watching you intensely, like a predator stalking its prey. Whether it’s the alcohol talking or the fact it’s been a hot minute since you’ve had sex, your legs squeeze together.

“Why would you assume that?” You stumble with the words on your tongue, finding it hard to look at him now.

“I was referring to the once vacant seat I’m now sitting in, but I like your version better,” he says, his voice cool and silky.

“So what? Were two lonely people in a bar? Sounds like there should be a joke in there somewhere,” you breathe, trying to relax yourself as you return to his face.

His cheeks have a slight red tint to them as well, making you feel a little less stupid for blushing like an idiot. In the moment of silence, you admire his hair. It’s only shoulder length, but the color and texture of it suits it perfectly. The chestnut-colored locks are so long and thick that they nearly cover the large silver hoops that dangle from each earlobe. Your eyes find his lips; perfectly plump, wet and red. Your teeth sink into your own as your mind wanders to the idea of biting down on his.

“So tell me, what are you doing here all alone? It’s not safe for someone as pretty as you.”

His words make you choke on air but you recover quickly by saying, “Not safe from men like you?”

“You’re safe with me,” he says quickly, his tone flat and serious.

You feel yourself beginning to pool from between your legs, but who wouldn’t? This man is oddly charming and insanely attractive.

“My name’s Jake,” he says, fingers tapping across the table. “Can I buy you another drink?”

You watch the silver rings move in sync with his fingers, your tongue trailing over your bottom lip. You feel completely insane and irrational for even thinking of what they could do to you if you’d let him, but your body seems to be magnetic to his.

“Do you have liquor at your place? Maybe we could go there,” you reply nervously.

Jake’s lips form into a shit-eating grin, his tongue tracing the top set of impossibly straight and insanely white teeth. A small giggle releases, the sound bubbling in your ears. He leans forward so the circle pendants on his necklace scratch against the surface below him. You hold your breath as his fans across your neck.

“I thought you’d never ask,”

Jake guides you through the few mangled drunken bodies that subside on their feet, his hand securely wrapped around yours. He keeps your body close to his like a territorial mother. You use your free hand to hold your black skin-tight dress to your thighs, praying to god you don’t flash anyone as the two of you make a beeline for the door. The adrenaline rush of doing something frowned upon makes your head spin to the point you don’t even notice when the bitter winter air stings at your exposed legs. But as you speed walk down the street and the adrenaline wears off, goosebumps shoot across your skin. The only warm part of your body is the hand that resides in Jake’s.

“Are you cold?” He asks after glancing at you.

“Yeah, a bit. I shouldn’t have worn this fucking dress. It’s the middle of December for crying out loud,” you chuckle at yourself, ignoring the chattering sound your teeth make after every word.

“Don’t blame the dress,” he pauses and drops your hand. Spinning to face you, his hands squeeze the upper part of your arm, his eyes sparkling from a street lamp next to you. “You look radiant tonight,”

It’s here that you notice he’s wearing a small layer of eyeliner on his bottom lid, arguably one of the most attractive things a man can do to enhance their appearance. Before you can tell him thank you, he removes his hands from your skin and shoves them in his pocket, pulling out a set of keys.

“Come on, darling,” he smirks, grabbing your hand once more and leading you to the passenger side of his car.

He opens the door and helps you in, shutting it behind you once you’re seated. A few seconds later, he joins you on the opposite side. He starts the car and turns the heat on before finally turning to you, a kind smile on his face.

“Settled?” You nod. “Okay, good.”

The buzz you were clinging onto earlier begins to fade and you catch yourself wondering if you made the right decision. He’s a complete stranger after all, and for all you know, he could be a rapist or murderer. But sitting next to him and staring at his relaxed and utterly perfect features, you understand there’s not a hurtful bone in his body. Just in case, you text your friend to let her know your location.

“Tell me something good that happened to you today, and you can’t say meeting me,” Jake quips, playfully tossing a wink at you.

You sigh and think, shoving your hands underneath your legs as you do so. “I successfully left my house tonight, does that count?”

He keeps his eyes on the road. “Yes, it counts.”

Another minute passes and you begin to squirm in your seat. You want to ask when you’ll be there, but you don’t want to seem impatient or rude so you keep quiet. Jake immediately picks up on your discomfort from the corner of his eye and without a word he brings his hand down to your knee. Electric waves shoot from the point of contact, making your whole body shiver and your legs involuntarily slightly spread open. He extends his fingers, wrapping the digits around your knee as if to keep you in place. The cold sliver of ice-cold stabs from his rings stab through your skin and your eyes fall closed.

“Needy tonight, aren’t we?” The words roll off his tongue in a raspy hue. His thumb begins to brush over the skin wrapped around your knee, turning you on even farther. “I’ll take care of you. Just be patient.”

His hand slides farther down your leg, slipping between your two thighs. He grips the one closest to him, the pain making a pathetic whimper fall from your lips. He smirks at himself, clearly enjoying the impact he has over you. Being close enough, he extends his pinky finger out just far enough to lightly brush against your clothed core. Your whole body trembles at the touch, your hips automatically chasing the feeling and sliding forward. The seat belt tied around your waist prevents you from going too far.

“Jake…” you whine.

“Almost there, baby. Be good for me,”

You suck in a deep breath and lay back against the headrest. Jake’s pinky finger continues to feather-lightly brush against your clit through your underwear, every movement pulling a barely audible whimper from your throat.

Jake pulls into a driveway and shuts off the car before unbuckling himself and turning to you. His hand grabs your cheeks and he drags your head so your lips are a few inches away. His eyes ooze with lust and desire and your legs squeeze together as he presses his lips to yours. The kiss is quick and unsatisfactory, making you whine when he pulls away all too soon.

“I wanna hear all those pretty sounds you were keeping from me all car ride home, got it?” You nod furiously in reply, your mind racing with thoughts. “Words, baby.”

“Yes, Jake,” you say cooly as if you’re not beginning to drop down your thighs.

“Close, try again,”

Your mind swirls with endless ideas of what he would like to be called, but looking into his needy dominante eyes, you have a pretty good idea.

“Yes, sir,”

He growls satisfactorily and releases the grip on your mouth. “Good girl. Now hurry inside.”

You don’t question him even though the first inquiry that pops into your mind is how you’re going to unlock his door. Your question is answered when you turn the doorknob and find it unlocked. Glancing back one last time, you enter his home.

It’s almost exactly how you pictured it; dark interiored with a bit of a medieval vibe to it. All of the furniture and pictures are dark and well loved, the only light being a few candles perched on the walls around you. You allow yourself to explore his humble abyss, your fingertips trailing across the endless amounts of vinyl he has neatly arranged in a bookshelf along the living room wall. He’s a tidy person it seems, everything kept in orderly fashion and neatly put away. It smells wonderful as well, making him even more appealing if that was even possible.

The front door opens a few moments later and your heart begins beating with anticipation. You hear him remove his shoes and carefully pluck the rings off his fingers one by one, tossing them into a small glass basket that sits on a small table by the door. Jake clears his throat before walking farther into his house, not bothering to turn on the lights.

“I’m in here, sir.” You find your way to Jake, pausing a few steps in front of him.

“Hey, baby,” he coos, cupping your cheek with one hand while the other ventures to your waist.

He kisses your lips. It’s soft at first; gentle and warm. But sooner rather than later it becomes sloppier as both of your growing arousal and primal instincts cloud your minds. Within seconds he has you pinned against the nearest wall, his tongue poking at your lips. You grant him access and invite him in, soaking and drowning in the taste of his saliva mixed with the brisk whiskey he was drinking just an hour earlier. Your hands bury themselves in his hair, tugging softly to ignite a moan from him. You swallow the sounds and become addicted. Fueling the need for more, you drop a hand to desperately remove the first layer of clothing. He hisses when you rip the jacket off of him and toss it to the floor.

“Jesus. When’s the last time you’ve been fucked?” He asks in between breathless kisses.

“Too long,” you admit, hands taking advantage of the newly exposed area of his chest.

Jake’s fingers tap on your thighs, motioning you to jump. He catches you and begins to stumble to his bedroom. Unable to resist, you grab both sides of his face and kiss his lips again. This time it’s passionate and meaningful, no tongue involved. Your lips fit together like a puzzle piece and dance together like they’ve been partners practicing the same routine for years. You dissect the taste and feeling of his swollen lips working in perfect sync with yours.

With no warning, you’re tossed onto the bed, landing on your back. Jake leans down to kiss you once more, his thumb on your chin to pull you into him. Once again, it’s over all too soon, and he backs away from you with a gaze that explores and suggests. You’re panting by now, completely and utterly turned on. One by one Jake removes his necklaces, placing them in a bowl that’s fairly similar to the one in the doorway downstairs. When he’s finished he combs through his hair and nonchalantly makes his way to your helpless position once more. The lack of high quality lighting and the black pants he’s wearing makes it hard to see if he’s hard, but not impossible. Your jaw falls open momentarily as the lighting casts a shadow of his cock straining against his pants.

“C’mere,” he demands once he reaches the end of the bed.

You scramble to your knees like a well trained pup and crawl to him so you’re eye level with his crotch. His hand grabs your chin and tilts your attention upwards, your eyes meeting his. You feel your legs threaten to give out when he swallows thickly and you’re able to make out the prominent Adam’s apple resting in his throat. With a nod, he removes his hand and allows yours to work at the button on his pants. You tug them down eagerly, and after he steps out of them, you do the same to his boxers.

His cock springs free, pink and leaking. You whine at the size and length, your pussy throbbing at the sight. Jake wraps his hand around himself and tugs it a few times before ultimately removing it and extending it to you.

“Spit,”

You obey, letting a trail of your own saliva fall on the palm of his hand. He hums in pleasure before working the liquid across his length, letting out a deep sigh with each stroke. Drool crowds your mouth as you watch him relieve himself, making you eager to feel him for yourself. He removes his hand and takes a step forward, queuing you to get to work. With your eyes glued to his, you place a teasing kiss on the tip and relish in the soft whimper Jake releases. Poking your tongue out of your plump lips, you kitten-lick the slit. You watch as his eyes screw shut and his mouth fall open, his cock twitching in front of your eyes. As you wrap your lips around the tip and begin to think about sinking deeper, his hand grabs the crown of your head and tilts it back, a string of saliva keeping you attached to his cock.

“I’m gonna ruin you,” he huffs, his thumb breaking the trail of spit.

You keep your tongue out, a silent pathetic plea for him to spit on you. A flash of surprise enters his eyes but it disappears just as quickly as it appeared. Jake spits flat on your tongue and you swallow it with pride, keeping your doe-eyes plastered to his.

Done teasing, you wrap your hand around the base of his cock. He sighs in consolation, the painful hard erection obviously seeking relief. Flattening your tongue, you drag the muscle across a vein on the underside of his length, moving your head back and forth along it. He whines in reply and grabs a fisitful of hair. You catch his drift and wrap your lips around his head again, your tongue flicking around the girth. You then begin to bob on him, slow and steady while your hands rest on his perfect thighs. You keep your eyes on his face as much as possible, enjoying the show. His pleasure fuels you, making you take him deeper into your mouth. One hand steadily works the part that’s not tucked away in your mouth, the other cupping his balls and fondling them softly. Jake whines above you, his hips bucking into your face. You gag but keep bobbing on him, your eyes giving him permission.

The grip on your hair tightens as he begins to fuck your face. His cock nudges the back of your throat repeatedly, triggering your gag reflex until the taste of his precum coats the inside of your mouth. Hot tears prick in the corner of your eyes as you take him; every thrust, every buck. You hum around him until he twitches inside your mouth, his chest heaving as he comes closer and closer to finishing.

Before he does, he removes himself from your mouth with a ‘pop’. You suck in large breaths through your wide open mouth, desperately trying to catch the breath you traded for Jake’s cock. His hand rubs your back as you recover, letting you know you’re safe. You relax at the feeling, becoming more comfortable with him by the minute.

When your breath steadies, he flips you on your back and kneels on the floor in front of you. A large hand lays sprawled against your stomach, holding you down against the duvet. He kisses up and down your calf, his finger kneading the skin. His eyes watch your reaction as he sucks a love mark into the inside of your thighs. You gasp at the feeling, your pussy throbbing and in need of immediate attention.

“Jake, please,” you cry. He answers with a firm slap on the meat of your thigh. You jerk and moan at the pain. “Sir!”

“That’s right,” he says, pressing his lips to the area he had previously assaulted.

Carefully and precisely his hands tug your panties off your legs, revealing your soaked core. Using his hands, he drags the material of your dress to the stomach. Out of reflex your legs squeeze together. Jake quickly parts them and places a hand on each thigh to keep them open.

“Let me see you, darling,” his sex-filled voice begs. His eyes absorb your state like it’s a four-course meal. “She’s so pretty, baby.” He praises, his pointer finger running through your folds. “So wet for me, fuck. And pink and swollen,”

“Sir, please!” You squirm, unable to take much more. “I n-need you,”

“Oh, yeah?” He smirks devilishly from his place between your thighs.

As if he just prepared a meal, he leans down and places a wet kiss on the throbbing bundle of nerves stationed right on your pussy. You watch him until your eyes roll in the back of your head. Both of Jake’s hands secure your legs position pinned to the bed so you can’t do anything besides take it when his tongue begins to swirl across your clit.

“Oh, fuck,” you cry, slamming your head down into the mattress.

“So sweet,” he informs you before returning to the heaven between your legs.

His tongue pokes at your entrance as his nose rubs against your clit. You cry and grab his hair, squeezing and tugging on it. He moans in pleasure, the vibrations stimulating you farther. His warm lips wrap around your clit, sucking it into his mouth as his eyes bleed into yours. Your whole body trembles as moans rip through your chest, Jake’s eyes addicted to every sound and move you make. He releases one of your thighs and begins to circle your entrance with the tip of his middle finger. He inserts it slowly as his tongue flicks and swirls your sensitive bundle of nerves. His finger pumps in and out at a steady pace, your back arching father into his face. He eats you like he hasn’t eaten in months, soaking and devouring every last drop of arousal you produce. He slips another finger in and begins to curl them upwards. You’ve never finished from head, so when his fingers begin furiously assaulting your g-spot, lips still sucking on your clit, you’re shocked when a ball in your stomach begins to tighten.

“Sir! Fuck, Jake! I’m gonna cum!”

“Do it for me, angel,” he demands. “Soak my face,”

That’s all it takes for the knot in your stomach to snap. The orgasm is so heavy your mind goes blank. You ride his face, chasing the feeling. Jake works you through it, his fingers never ceasing motion. His lips abandon your clit as he praises you and watches your body twist and jerk as you come out of your orgasm.

“Oh my god,” you heave when you’ve come back to earth. “Kiss me,”

He crawls over your body and swiftly connects your lips. You groan into him and grind your hips into his erection that rests on your stomach. He moans into your mouth, removing his lips from yours and placing kisses on your jawline. You whine and breathe with an open mouth as he licks and nibbles at the skin, leaving marks and bites wherever he pleases. Your hands grab his hair and you tug it until he whines against your skin. He pulls away only to remove your dress before hovering over you with glistening eyes.

“You’re perfect, my love,”

You moan at his words, your body desperate for him. “I need your cock, baby. Please give me your cock,” He bites his lip in reply. “I’m on the pill,”

You brush a strand of hair out of his face and tuck it behind his ear as he hums and grinds his throbbing cock against your pussy. Your lips part as a small yelp escapes from your lips. Jake’s hand returns to your heat, his fingers running through your slick and settling at the entrance. Two fingers poke at it, playing with it like putty in his hand.

“I’m gonna fuck this pretty pussy until you cry,”

His words make you groan. “Please,”

With that, he grabs himself in his hand and begins to slide the tip through your folds. Your whole body shudders at the feeling of him so hard and swollen between your legs, throbbing with desire. Your hand wraps around Jake’s neck, pulling him closer till your bare chests are pressed together. You can feel every breath he takes, his skin damp from the sweat. It glues him to your chest, his nose wrinkling when your hard nipples poke into his skin.

“Do you trust me?” He asks.

“Fuck, if I didn’t I wouldn’t be naked under you,” you growl.

In one smooth violent thrust, he sinks into you. Your body shifts backwards but his arm holds you in place. You both sigh in unison and cry when he pulls out before slamming back into you. You feel him in your stomach, stretching you so deliciously. He begins to pick up the pace, searching for a rhythm. He finds a ruthless pace instead, one that has your eyes rolling in the back of your head and your pussy clenching around his length. He fucks into you, eyes deathly staring into yours. His brows are knitted together, his cheeks bright red. Sweat beads cling to his forehead as he breathes heavily above you. The hand securing yours to his naked body releases you and moves to cup one of your breasts. He squeezes it and you feel his cock twitch deep inside of your stomach. His thumb squeezes your nipple and rolls the nub between the pads of his callused rough fingers.

“That’s it, fuck, that’s a good girl,” he praises before pulling out.

You whine at the loss of contact but quickly find yourself on all fours with your ass in the air. He shoves your head into the duvet and sinks back into you, causing a scream to escape your mouth. He pounds into you with no remorse, his hands keeping you in place by the grip on your hips. Skin on skin slaps fill the entirety of the room along with both of your whines and pleas. Jake mumbles above you, his hair glued to the sweat on his face. Your face is shoved into the comforter and your hands grip it until the knuckles turn white. He brings the palm of his hand to meet your ass, a firm slapping noise exciting from it. You mewl in pleasure, arching your back even farther.

“God you feel so fucking good. So tight. And those noises, oh god. Are you close?”

“Yes, fuck!” You slur, feeling the knot in your stomach tighten once more. “Talk to me,”

“You like being fucked like this, huh? My good little slut, good for nothing but a quick fuck,” His voice trembles as his thrust becomes sloppier. “Cum for me, darling. Soak my cock, it’s yours,”

His words send you spiraling once more, his name leaving your mouth in a string of religious pleas and desperate moans. Jake keeps fucking into you, his cock leaking as you squeeze around him. He whines and cries your name, eyes screwed shut as he talks himself through it.

“Where do you want me?”

“Inside,” you immediately answer. “Want to feel you,”

He growls and spills into you, coating your walls with his warm release. Your whole body aches and throbs as he mercilessly uses you for his own pleasure. He keeps fucking into you, whines and cries leaving his mouth as you milk his cock dry. He finishes completely and pulls himself out of you, rolling on his back next to you. You breathe and heave next to him, too tired to even raise your head to speak to him. All you can see through the curtain your hair has made is his tomato-red face and sweat-filled hair clinging to his face and neck. He’s just as fucked out as you are.

“So… that was…” Jake breaks the silence after a few minutes of labored breathing.

“It was good,” you finish his sentence.

“Yeah, it was great,”

You both lay side by side, silence settling in between the two of you.

“This is awkward,” you cover your face with your hands and laugh.

“It’s only awkward if we make it awkward,” he clears his throat and rolls over on his side before propping his head up on his hand.

“Agreed,”

He grimaces. “That sounded awkward,”

You both laugh. “I know,”

“Well I’m no good at this. Wanna order some food or watch a movie?”

You smile and cup his face before wiping away the sheen of sweat that has settled on his hot cheek. “Maybe a shower?”

“A shower sounds nice,”

╚══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╝

#greta van fleet #jake kiszka #jake kiszka smut #josh kiszka #josh kiszka smut #sam kiszka #greta van fleet smut #josh gvf #josh kiszka fic #sam kiszka gvf #jake kiskza x reader #jake kiska fic #jake kiskza smut #josh kiskza fanfic #josh kiskza smut #sam gvf #sam kiszka smut #danny wagner smut #danny wagner #daniel wagner

[oharaslove]

HI LOVIEESS!! Hope you enjoy this preview of my first series!! For some reason I love the concept of soulmates (bwoah, some reason, I know why, but let's stay mysterious for a while, haha), so I hope you enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it and thinking about it.

word count: 900 summary: What happens when someone who believes no one can love him meets a person who only desires to love and be loved? disclaimer: All the events of this story happen after Spiderman Across the SpiderVerse (more info in Chapter 1) warnings: MiguelxSpider!Reader (also latina), soulmates, eventual smut? (still debating this, not because I don't want to, but my abilities to do so), eventual angst, fluff, injuries, talks about death (I'll update as I go on)

Also, I'll be putting songs in some Chapters, or all of them if I can find music that I find fitting (Even though I am trying to stick to Sleep Token). Anyway, the song to start it all:

𝙋𝙧𝙚𝙫𝙞𝙚𝙬

Earth-928B

Spiderman 2099, Miguel O’hara, the leader of the SpiderSociety, one half of a whole. Nobody knows it, but he possesses an indelible mark in his body. For many, only a simple birthmark, for him, a constant reminder that there is someone out there who is his supposedly other half. The idea so stupid he stopped thinking about it, constantly at least, after he learned the truth about his biological father, Tyler Stone. 

In this Earth, in the year 2099, equal to the downfall of the “heroic age” where there were lots of superheroes, it was also the debacle of soulmates. There was an era where everyone was destined to meet the “love of their lives” and live happily ever after. Each person was assigned a match at birth, that was supposed to be their half, together being and feeling complete, represented by a distinctive mark. Only the children of soulmates could posses this “power” or destiny, or as Miguel liked to call it, a curse. 

As time went by, the people of Nueva York and all Earth-928 grew tired of waiting for that special person, and as a consequence soulmates started to disappear. For Miguel’s disgrace, Conchata and Tyler Stone were soulmates, which is part of the reason why he hates them so much. 

The mere idea of having someone destined to be with him repulsed him. He isn’t opposed to having a family, hence why he took the other Miguel’s place, but after losing Gabriella, he doesn’t trust himself. He isn’t capable of loving again, trusting someone, or so he thinks. 

There isn’t a reason why he thinks the universe (or universes) would give him someone to love him unconditionally. Miguel thinks that if his soulmate really exists, they will be like his mother and Tyler, destined to be apart, a love that never was supposed to happen, it would be a mistake, like HE is, in his mind.

Furthermore, he is Spiderman, he has a duty. Not only does he have to keep Nueva York safe, but also prevent the Multiverse from becoming shambles.  There is no time to care for someone, there is no time for love. “With great power comes great guilt”, a phrase he will never let down. He knows what he has to do, he is aware of the power he possesses. There is no time to mess around, and there is definitely not a second a day that he can waste trying to find someone who would, NO, will definitely hate him, doesn’t matter if they were bonded together or not. 

Even though he tells himself this every sleepless night, there is always a part of his heart or mind that yearns for comfort, for love, or at least, someone who can understand him. He knows it is impossible, or at the very best, improbable, given the fact that his so-called soulmate is probably only a regular human, so she will never understand, but deep in his consciousness, there is hope. Everytime he saves someone he believes he is a step closer, but there is always disappointment. So he drowns himself with work, trying to forget, trying to erase the idea that he was born to belong to someone, but instead fate gifted him with loneliness on this Earth, and in many others. 

Earth - 129

Y/n Y/Ln, the only Spiderwoman of Earth-129, the other half of a whole soul. Since you have memory, everyone has told you how important the weird shaped mark you had in your body was. It meant you had a soulmate, like almost everyone in your universe. Soulmates in your universe were sacred, as in Miguel’s, only children of soulmates could possess soulmates, but as the vast majority married and had kids with their own, most people have them. 

Obviously, your parents were each other’s soulmates, and you had the opportunity to hear how much they cared and loved each other. As you were growing up, you couldn’t wait to meet your other half, the person who was supposed to understand you like no other, to love you unconditionally. 

When you were born, unfortunately, your mother died, which caused your dad great pain. In your Earth, soulmates can feel each other’s pain and strong emotions, so your father felt how your mom slipped out of his grasp. He had hope they would leave this life together, as he didn’t know life without her, but fate had other plans. 

Even though this broke your heart, you never stopped looking for your soulmate, and your father never stopped encouraging you.

Now, in your twenties, 28 to be precise, everyone your age you know has met their soulmate. Friends, cousins, everyone!. Your friend was worried for you, he even started to think that something bad happened to your soulmate, because of the weird shape your mark has, but you still have hope. 

You’ve never been with anyone, so you don’t know how love feels, well, romantic love, but you know you have a lot to give. You can’t wait for the day you meet him. Every time you save someone during your patrols, you hope that it gets you closer to getting to know your soulmate. But you haven’t had luck yet. You only wish for your friend to be wrong, and your soulmate is somewhere on this Earth.  One of these days, you'll meet him, you feel it.

<Chapter 1> <Masterlist>

Well, he isn’t on your Earth, is it darling?

Hope you liked it!! Let me know what you think!!

TAGS:

@oscarissac2099 @cupcakeinat0r @greensagephase

#miguel x you #miguel spiderverse #miguel x reader #miguel o'hara #miguel spiderman #atsv miguel #spiderman #oharaslove #spiderman 2099 x you #spiderman 2099 x reader #spiderman 2099 #soulmate au #soulmates #spider reader #miguel ohara fanfiction #miguel o hara #soulmate miguel o'hara

[lemotmo]

Ooof that finale was…..not it. Like my first issue was they for some reason let Kristen write it. I honestly thought we were free of her with the move to abc but alas apparently not. And she very much made her presence known with how off the finale felt in terms of pacing and just how ooc some of them felt at times. Not to mention the continuing saga of her former reign in making Buck an over sexualized character by turning his dad trauma into a way for Tommy to make jr into a daddy kink joke which was just…. No thanks. Otherwise it just was such a….lackluster finale? And I found myself bored at moments.

And then the season over all I’m left wondering what was the point of half of it ? Like Bathena didn’t get to enjoy their honeymoon. They have no house now. The Amir plot which while I loved the character, ultimately led to nothing? The cartel storyline didn’t need to happen and bringing them back was boring. Bobby being dead for 14 minutes and coming into the station at the end perfectly fine was such a wtf moment even for tv standards.

Henren didn’t get to adopt their baby. They got a foster daughter instead only to then….lose her ? And have her be given to Madney instead for them to visit like truly this was just drama for drama sake and ultimately pointless pain for them.

Madneys wedding got rushed and ultimately turned into a 2 minute hospital room scene. We didn’t even get to see ant build up to the wedding.

Buck: He came out as bi which yesssss 🎉🎉🎉 only to then immediately be forced back into his hamster wheel, stuck in yet another relationship with someone who doesn’t seem to even like him, and is rude to him. And then turned into essentially a background character the rest of the season. I truly feel bad for Oliver because he was so so so excited for bi buck, and so happy and hopeful they would do it right and with respect and not over sexualize it and this is what he gets. A boring rude generic LI making daddy kink jokes and no real development into this part of himself. It’s truly no surprise he did nothing to promote that relationship or this finale.

Eddie and Chris. We hardly saw Chris. And then the way they rushed him leaving at the very end was so… not it. Not to mention so out of sorts for him? Like we have seen when he’s mad at Eddie he always goes to Buck. But this time he calls his grandparents at 2 am and asks them to come rake him to Texas indefinitely? Then the Buck Chris talk. I love their scenes together but even it felt off? And then they systematically undid any progress with Eddie’s parents with Helena often coming off filled with glee over it, and Ramon taking his own guilt in Eddie to make him accept it. Then we have Eddie himself. What was the point of Marisol? There doesn’t seem to be one. And why we had to suffer Edy all season remains a mystery since Tim said she came back because he didn’t want two off screen breakups. Only to then do two off screen breakups. What was the point of Kim? I had hopes they would actually use her to move Eddie along and then they just…didn’t? Even Ryan said he thinks all she did was make it worse.

I will give the show credit because they did stick to the try for buddie scene in every episode. And they had some good scenes. Ryan and Oliver knocked their scenes out in the finale especially but once again we are at the finale and it’s left in a…. Now what ? No real movement forward. Once again all of us going oh next season for sure! And no real clear path toward it. and based on Ryan’s interviews tonight, where it once again sounds like they have no idea what to do with Eddie next season due to the vast amount of directions they seem to want to take him, including apparently Ryan saying in one of them that Tim seems to want to lean more into the Bobby Eddie similarities next season and have Eddie focus a lot more on religion, but Ryan does say he doesn’t think Eddie will become a priest. But still it’s just like… what are we doing. It’s given more we don’t wanna say yes to Buddie and follow the clear narrative direction butttttttt we want the views sooooo let’s make it open ended enough to draw them in. Again.

They said at the start they were going to give, or try to give the fans what they wanted this season and truly, I’m utterly baffled how anyone thought any of this is what we wanted. Like we wanted Henren to get their baby. Madney to have the best wedding. Bathena to thrive and get their honeymoon and have some adventures. Buddie to become buddie and enjoy the Buckley Diaz family in an official capacity. And instead we got circles upon circles with lazy choices taken where they could and next to no real character growth or movement. I’m so sorry for how long this got 😅😅😅

Oh Nonny, how I agree with everything you said here. You get me.

I just posted my episode review and most of the things I talked about are the same things you highlighted.

It was written by Kristen? Ah, that explains a lot actually.

I didn't mind the Diaz parents though. I really do think they were trying to help out in their own way. But all the rest of this post? YEEEES!!!!

I can still see the Buddie of it. I'm still hanging in there. There were too many strange choices made in season 7 to make me believe that Buddie isn't going to happen in season 8. Not to mention the amazing chemistry between Buddie compared to whatever it is they are trying to show us with BT. However, they are on thin ice here. I agree. Things need to start moving along. If not... after season 8 I will retreat to my little nook of Tumblr living off good Buddie fan fiction.

I didn't read any of the Ryan interviews yet. Him leaning into religion and the parallel with Bobby I did see coming. The prayer book was too obvious. I wonder why they had 6 interviews lined up with Ryan over this episode? I get that his storyline is important, but it doesn't warrant 6 interviews, not even the religious aspect of it. I'm going to read some of them today to try and get a clearer image.

I just feel like all of my beloved 911 characters don't have any clear direction at this point. I was surely hoping for some more insight, but all we got was superficial storytelling and no real breakthroughs for anyone.

I don't understand what all those journalists that screened this episode were talking about when they said they saw clear directions for season 8. For me it is the opposite at this point. Where are they taking all of this???

#911 spoilers #nonnies galore #buddie #7x10 thoughts #season 8 speculation #buddie thoughts and speculation

[kseniyagreen]

The heavy dress of social role

What I like about Mysterious lotus casebook is that even this moment with the bride's dress is not introduced here for comedic purposes.

(I honestly don't like it when the topic of gender roles is used for comedic effect) .

But here, this dress and the fact that Li Lianhua has to wear it has a serious meaning, deeply embedded in the overall message of the drama.

The bride's heavy ceremonial dress is not only a murder weapon, but also a symbol. A symbol of the enormous pressure of a social role, under which you can drown and not swim out. First of all, the feminine-associated role, but also any rigid social role in principle.

This dress appears for a reason - it is passed down from generation to generation.

These are the very traditions that conservative society forces us to observe. And it is symbolic that in this story these traditions are used by tyrant men to get rid of women who have become objectionable.

Moreover, the father uses it first. And then the son, despite the fact that he himself is a victim of his father, turns from a victim into an abuser. (We will later see the same turn with Jiao Liqiao ).

Also a kind of tradition passed down through generations - traditions of violence.

Why is Li Lianghua chosen to wear this dress? Because having become a victim and having lost his power, he seems to find himself in a feminine role according to traditional society.

He knows from his own experience what it is like to be a victim and to be helpless. And his willingness to put himself in the victim’s shoes, to understand the victim, largely determines his success as a detective.

But unlike other victims, Li Lianhua swims out without drowning in this dress.

There are two symbolic aspects to this, and both are probably true.

Firstly, there is a purely symbolic connection with the lotus, which does not drown.

Li Lianhua generally has a special relationship with water. And Di Feisheng, by the way, too. That's why he will swim in the same pool later.

Water always plays a large symbolic role in their relationship.

But there is also a second aspect. Li Lianhua, even with 10% of his power, is not a helpless girl. There is a part of the fighter in him, even if this part in the role of Li Lianhua has gone deep. But in a situation of emergency, it turns on again.

And this brings us to the topic that both “yin” and “yang” are needed in order to survive in this world.

When it is really necessary, Li Lianhua knows how to throw off the shackles of the imposed role, and because of this he does not drown.

And here's another thing. The more I think about it, the more it seems to me that this repeated association of “dead bride”, “dead groom” in the relationship between Lianhua and Di Feisheng is not only a way to encode their not "just very good friends" connection, not only to emphasize the tragedy of this connection.

But there is also a subtle mockery of cisheteronormative traditional culture. As if to hint at the “deadness” of the roles themselves.

This traditional society is constantly trying to push both Lianhua and Di Feisheng into a stereotyped role (and both of them in turn received both the role of the “groom” and the role of the “bride”, in different contexts). But they always escape from these roles together.

At the same time, fitting into this pattern and breaking it.

#mysterious lotus casebook #li lianhua #di feisheng

[lazywrites]

Gravity

Kurt wagner x fem!reader (2k) Reader is a villain, suggestive, bad writing, i wrote this practically asleep.

Par 2 of Nemesis

After a few meetings, Kurt doesn't know what to make of his new friend or what to do about his feelings towards her.

Who were you really? A lost soul looking for guidance, that was what Kurt had heard when he first passed by the square, a fearsome terrifying villain, a powerful mutant, a terrorist, a simple woman made to be an outcast in a society she helped build.

But then, he had also been called many things in his lifetime, most of them unpleasant as well. And if the likes of Magneto and the Hellfire Club could be considered heroes by the population, why not her? Nemesis used to be an just entity that existed in this world more than anything else, uncontrollable and mysterious, a powerful mutant of unknown origin, who could bend the Earth and stars to her will.

The power over gravity, it pushes and pulls, a careful balance must be kept. Come close and you might end up bent out of shape, too far and you might be lost forever.

Nemesis has always strived to live in balance, her hands are light and helpful and her heart is as heavy as a stone, That was most of what he got by talking with the others. In truth, Kurt had invited everyone he could, well liked or not, religious or not he didn’t pick and choose when announcing to them his invitation, it wouldn’t be right, he had heard a story of her before, from his sister Anna no less, Of the somber night the terrible villain Nemesis halted the movement of the stars on the sky for a few hours, affecting the tides the weather and everything in between, and was defeated by the X-men, saving the whole world and even then he had wondered why, why would she do such a thing? It seems illogical even from the perspective of pure evil.

A few days after their fist meeting he reminded himself to ask, and she simply looked down towards him as always.

“Because i could.”

And it did not make sense to him, He had to admit, it was hard to merge the two images he had of this woman into one, and Kurt found that he became disappointed in himself, the simple act of even trying is foolish. People have many sides to them, some that are full of hate and lust for power, and some that will hold your hands tenderly and pull you closer, looking to make you smile.

Both sides of this woman haunt him at night, Nemesis and Y/N.

Nemesis stands over his bed at night and smiles down at him like a shark, dark and scornful in a way that makes him freeze, unable to move he is completely powerless against her as he’d probably be in a fight, but they’re not fighting. And her tongue is mean but oh so sweet in his mouth, she does not spare insults to his virtue in those moments and he is completely at her mercy, hypnotized and helpless to resist her pull. Like a black hole she steals all the light from his room and the breath from his lungs when she presses up against him, sometimes it’s one of her boots, sometimes its her body against his but the result is always the same.

It depends on what kind of nightmare this is meant to be, Some nights his body and hers are so entwined that it’s hard to distinguish one from the other, she’ll whisper close to his ear and demean him until he can’t take the teasing anymore. Nemesis will simply step on him and declare that she wants ‘to see him squirm’, he’ll be well acquainted with the sole of whatever she was wearing that day when they talked, and it’s agonizing and euphoric at the same time, a bittersweet nightmare.

And he knows it’s wrong, wrong and honestly embarrassing but he’s been caught by her more than once looking down at her shoes.

Y/N is there too.

In his sweetest dreams she comes to him, but not to stand over his bed, she lays with him and her presence electrifies his body in opposition to Nemesis. And the need to move makes him shudder, the need to touch her and run his hands all over the object of his desire feels right this time, she’ll bring her face right next to his until they breathe the same air and Kurt will finally be able to see it again, the soft interior beneath the hardened shell of her persona. It’s not like he has any difficulty getting to this side of her, but in his dream, it’s more present than ever before and he can touch her and kiss her as much as he wants, the real her.

Waking up is the hardest part, ever since they met Kurt knows that his sleep schedule has worsened considerably, some days he’ll want to sleep until he can’t anymore, to continue living in his imagination just a little longer, he’ll look himself in the mirror and tell his reflection to stop having these fantasies, that his new acquaintace is dangerous, just like everyone else tells him. It won’t work, despite his doubts Kurt admits to himself only in his head and nowhere else that he is fascinated by her, that she has his full attention whenever they see each other even if in passing.

He doesn’t know her, but somehow he does. It’s strange but he’s seen her real self, and he knows her real name now, there is no reason to be afraid of Y/N, she was genuine that night, and he remembers the warmth in her eyes every hour of every day.

 “why are you messing with my head, Meine Liebe?”

He’s being pulled towards her, and it’s hard to resist his newest temptation.

Ultimately he doesn’t think of anyone else he’s met like he does you, they all have many facets to their personalities sure, but the difference between what he’s heard about her past and the present is confusing, He doesn’t know what to do with her, with you, his friend.

And what if he asks you about it? What would you say? Probably something bold.

“Because i can.”

You’ve said it before, you won’t ever ask for forgiveness, maybe that’s why the answer he got that day was so nonchalant, in the end it doesn’t matter, He should focus.

After that day in the rooftop you two met again, and kept meeting over and over, you never joined the others in their reunions but if he looked up towards the rooftop of Genosha’s makeshift church you’d always be there waiting.

Kurt didn’t dare to climb up to the rooftop and preach for you to come down, so he joined you, for the better part of 3 months you two meet every week up in the roof and just talk, or sit next to each other in silence, staring at the moon. And he enjoys it for more reasons than he can put into words, you never say it but he can also see it on your face that you enjoy spending time with him, he wants to know more about you and ask all about the questions that have been brewing in his mind for more than a month, he wants to know why you did what you did, wants to know if your time together is helping, wants do know if you think of him as much as he thinks of you.

The doubt in his mind never really leaves, but Kurt doesn’t mind when he can focus on staring at your profile, he wants to commit to memory the way your eyes gleam when you stare at the moon, like it belongs to you, and in a way it does.

“You’re staring again.”

He blinks, you wait for him to answer without even turning to face him.

“You look good, i mean-You’re in your element, it looks good.” A slip of the tongue, and he hopes you won’t notice.

“Hmm” You turn towards him with and arch an eyebrow “Yes, i like staring at the moon, from here it feels like i could reach out and grab it.”

It seems you haven’t noticed how flustered he became under your stare, Lucky.

“Yes, you’re right, i do wish i could touch it sometimes.”

You smile at him, a mischievous smile.

“I could get it for you.” and don’t wait for him to react “You would be touching it, but only once.”

He smiles back at you “I’d rather just look then.” And directs his gaze to the sky, to distract you so you can look and he can turn back to watch you again.

You don’t take his bait, not yet.

“I’ll take you flying someday.”

It’s a nice thought, so nice it makes him feel guilty, for doubting you and questioning your intentions, and for fantasizing about you, as much as Kurt wants you to be vulnerable he can’t help but feel guilty when you are, even if his guilt comes from things that he can never tell you.

He can’t express with simple words how that makes him feel, so for now a smile will have to suffice.

“Actually i’ll let you pick the day, since i’m in a good mood right now.” And there you are again, putting him on the spot.

Kurt opens his mouth and forces his tongue, which seems more like an useless weight on his mouth at the moment, to form a few words that are comprehensible at least.

“You want to go out?”

“Yes.” You don’t even blink.

“With me?”

You’re still staring at him and he feels oddly exposed, almost indecent, but his heart is beating fast, so fast. Just like when you stand over him in his dreams, when you lay beside him and whisper how much you want him.

You lean into his space a little, just a few centimeters but Kurt feels like you are closer than ever, and then you plant one of your hands on his bicep, an action that should by no means seem as seductive as it does in his eyes.

“Yes, i want to go out with you.” And he just can’t leave you hanging.

“I want it too.” He hopes you won’t notice the slight tremble in his body, it’s not like you haven’t held him close before, you did it on the first day you two met, but this is different, it feels like you could read his mind and peer into his darkest secrets with just this simple touch.

“Just say when.” The power your half lidded stare has over him is undeniable, and Kurt knows that he can spend the whole day telling himself in the mirror that this meant nothing, it is real, not one of his midnight fantasies, you’re real and you’re waiting for his answer, for him to tell you that he wants you.

He takes in some of the cold night air and his tongue is once again an useless weight on his mouth, but he has to try. “Tomorrow then, Ja?.”

You nod. “Tomorrow.” And then look down towards the streets below “A member of the council out with me, people will gossip.”

“Let them gossip all they want, it is only natural for us to be seen together.” You arch your eyebrow again, questioning what he means “We can say that it was a battle for the ages.”

And you laugh for a moment before your face goes back to its normal state, a little moment that makes his heart beat faster for the rest of your time together. It’s hard for him to come to terms with it, his desire for you, his love for his new friend and fear of the fearsome foe you could become.

But for now this is enough, it is enough when you’re there. By the time he’s back home and in bed, he’ll crave your presence desperately, and by the time he wakes up full of guilt for his thoughts he’ll want less of you poisoning his mind.

But the knowledge that you’re there, and that you’ll be together with him again tomorrow is enough to keep him grounded in the moment, grounded, orbiting you and hoping you won’t bend or break him.

He’ll most likely never touch the moon, but just admiring it with you is enough, for now it has to be.

#kurt wagner x reader #nightcrawler x reader #x men x reader #x men headcannons #marvel x reader #kurt wagner x oc

[industrations]

I haven’t had time to color this but COWBOY REMUS COWBOY REMUS

The boots are specifically for @greenvlvetcouch 🫶

#cowboy remus agenda #also the grip on sirius’ leg is extremely important #what is he so sexy for #like why does he have to be all mysterious

[frog-thief]

"once a ordinary monk picked up a lonely and lost sparrow"

#overwatch #zenyatta #genji #genyatta #I have an explanation “why Zenyatta is standing on the ground and not hovering over it” #I can explain this by the fact that it is very cold in the mountains and a lot of energy is spent on heating the internal engines -> #and the normal functioning of the mechanisms #so Zenyatta is on the “energy saving” mode and does not hovering ;D #also I can explain “why Genji is wrapped in a raincoat because he does not get cold and why he is wearing a hat” #firstly Genji needs a raincoat to keep internal heat because again it is very cold in the mountains of Nepal #secondly he looks very cool in a hat he is all so mysterious and old-fashioned like samurai from Akira Kurosawa's films😎

[lunarharp]

little bit of modern au (SPOILERS for the zelda game.)

#witch hat tag #orufrey #zelda totk spoilers #thus ends the orufrey playing on their switches saga. oh modern au...the place where everything is pretty much ok. Yes i have joycon drift. #hey literally why do ppl leave private replies on twt. not priv qrts. that's like..fine. Whatever. but priv replies...who r u talkin to. #once i posted a comic about writing that went REALLY far before i deleted it and got 400+ qrts and someone left a string of private replies #Yeah go off king. What is the point #what does it mean. what does it all mean. <- me at all times looking at the internet in my puter and understanding nothing and just leaving #i'm obsessed with how i said that qifrey doesnt really 'identify' with link so it's hard for him to play games like this #but he cooks food and sleeps as if things are real. Oh what a mysterious fellow...my darling..meanwhile once again oru plays normally #qifrey: I don't really know who zelda is so... sorry that happened to her...bye.. Oh my stomach must be rumbling by now! #if you haven't seen the other parts to this saga he ended up caring abt zelda because he pretended to himself that she is oru. Princess Oru #i play more like qifrey btw. totk was really good

[lbhslefttiddie]

then and now

#svsss #arts #backlog #shen yuan #shen jiu #luo binghe #you may be thinking: hey is that yqy over there? yes #why does he look like a salaryman?? because yqy is a sims 2 character trapped in the vessel of a student council president. next question #hey levanna what the fuck is going on here?? you know what. not even im 100% on that one chief #i had some vague notions about a murder mystery featuring a lbh who could see ghosts #and the ghost of a boy who has been stuck in his old friends' haunt (lol) for oh i dont know. thirty years #but see the thing is that sy doesnt know why he's here either! #he doesnt even remember dying but. well. he was always a sickly kid. he cant say hes surprised he suddenly kicked it #honestly it was such a mundane occurrence for him it must have been too boring to recall #but lbh spends time with yuan gege and pretty quickly comes to the realization that this is NOT the case #he finds like an old new article and in reality sy was found murdered in this place 30 years ago #and its much for likely that the trauma of the event is why he cant remember his death at all #oh and there was gonna be some drama where lbh suspects sy's now much older twin #who is now a teacher at their old school and a very different person from what sy remembers #but it wasnt sj he's just fucking traumatized by his brother being murdered in what theyd considered their safe place #he hates this school and he hates qi ge who never Really talks to him but is still fucking HERE (also teacher) #but he cant leave either bc he cant let go #and part fo him is still hoping to find answers for what happened back then #anyways i think this premise is all very good and sexy #but levanna's brain frankly was not built for writing murder mysteries #free to a good home if any of you fuckers want it #death #murder

[angorwhosebabyisthis]

[pericky; a look into ricky's head during their meeting.]

---

"I'm glad you came, I wasn't sure you would." The wine pours, the sound of it drowning out the missing word in that sentence: back.

Of course, is the response, and the part of Ricky that's spent twenty years tearing itself apart to understand why vibrates with relief. It doesn't matter anymore. Of course, of course, he thinks giddily along with the words. He never needed to wonder why Pericles wasn't coming back in the first place; he was always going to.

I'm happy you invited me, and of course he thinks again. A lifetime of pretending he wasn't always going to either falls away. However harsh and lonely the world has been, all's right with it again; and the shy voice of the boy inside him that he's tried so hard to kill says, so quietly, I missed you.

#sdmi #scooby doo: mystery incorporated #pericky #ricky owens #professor pericles #anyway fucking end me actually. lay me down to die #i said i was gonna write more pericky and by fucking god i did #the 'why did you do this to me' to 'oh thank god you didn't actually do this to me' pipeline of abuse folks 🥲 #which like. their last conversation is yet another devastating example of ricky finally standing up to pericles' bullshit Too Late #ricky denounces him in the strongest terms he knows; based on his own feelings and opinions and the way he sees the world #(which: even then he can't bring himself to say 'i don't love you anymore') #(the closest he can get is 'i chose you and i can't take it back; the only way i can imagine not loving you is if i never had at all') #and pericles tries to go 'nyeh nyeh whatever i don't care' (and does a real bad job of pretending he is not obviously hurt lmao) #and ricky doesn't try to understand his logic; he doesn't try to reconcile a world where pericles didn't *really* mean to do anything wrong #his response is MAYBE YOU *SHOULD* CARE. #pericles' view of the world and what's right and acceptable are warped and *wrong* and he's the one who needs to get his shit together #'you shouldn't have abused me you shouldn't have killed cassidy you shouldn't have murdered a child in cold blood' #that is MASSIVE and i think it is really telling that pericles' response is to shut him down with force instead of trying to argue any more #and that in the end is the real true fucking tragedy of it all #ricky is making huge strides one after the other to take back his freedom from pericles emotionally #....and materially it makes no difference to improve his situation in the moment; because pericles doesn't have any less power to abuse him #he never has a triumphant moment where he Overcomes His Abuser and Breaks Out of His Control #there's nothing he can do to fight back until pericles is too Literally Dead to control him anymore #it is one of the rawest depictions of the reality of abuse i've ever seen and just. God. i love it so much #(at the same time i REALLY want to explore a version of events where he got the chance to expand further on that growth) #(the 'all witches are selfish; make all things yours; i have a duty' speech from the wee free men comes to mind) #whosebaby makes things #whosebaby writes #SDMItag #dyn: when i die i want you to die too

[nobodysdaydreams]

Oh this hurts

"Wait, you're jealous" // "I'm not jealous, I'm worried. You've changed. // "You're right. I have changed. I used to be a nervous mess, and now-" // "The Whisper is manipulating your mind, your emotions" // "I know. For the better."

"It's so disappointing to see you turn to envy" // "I'm not jealous. I'm heartbroken." // "Nicholas, I've moved on. You are holding on to an outdated view of me that is the source of much unhappiness" // “You're creating an artificial state of happiness. It is a complete disconnection from true emotion”. // You don't have to be heartbroken. You can be happy".

#that foreshadowing though #I think I've seen this film before #I know I've done a lot with this concept but the scene was good #Wait does this imply sticky is what Curtain would be like if he dropped the facade? Since sticky becomes like curtain when brain washed? #Oh my and Yes I know the Benedict brother's convo is out of order I needed the panels to match I'm sorry #fan theory that Curtain's inventions all started as failed attempts to cure his narcolepsy so he could be adopted #then he realized that that curing anxiety and inducing fake happiness gave him control over others #I'm watching the writers with their little sticky reynie letter writing conflict #are they gonna have the boys parallel Curtain and Benedict again #Is that why they killed off Sticky's parents? So he also has no one? #Cause Kate has Milligan Reynie has Ms. Perumal and Constance has Benedict #All Sticky has is an aunt who couldn't be bother to show up for the season finale #Oh well I guess we'll find out #the mysterious benedict society #mysterious benedict society #tmbs #tmbs disney #mbs #mbs disney #mbs s2 #mbs season 2 #sticky washington #reynie muldoon #ld curtain #mr curtain #ledroptha curtain #nathaniel benedict #nicholas benedict #mr benedict