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anonymous1x2tipster · 2 years
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gucciwins · 1 year
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a special night at the brits
word count: 3558
a/n: hi friends! i really like coming back to this series and i hope you enjoy this continuation of them. talk show y/n and harry taking is slow but very much into each other. happy reading! 💗💗💗
part one // part two // part three
+
It was a big night in London, and you felt lucky to be invited. Growing up, you remembered watching the Brits with your sister seeing all the biggest stars walk the red carpet, rating your favorite looks, and singing along to every performer of the night. Tonight you knew would be one to remember, and for that reason, Zuri, your stylist, had the most fun finding you a dress for the night. It seemed many designers wanted to work with you, but Zuri reminded you that not everyone was as kind as they seemed to work with people you respected and respected you. The dress for tonight makes you feel like a star wearing a blue silk satin corseted gown with a plunging strapless neckline. The floor-length skirt was ruched with a thigh split and a train paired with shiny strappy high-heel shoes. It was fun getting ready with your glam team, but the nerves sometimes got the best of you before taking the carpet.
The confidence you feel when taking the carpet doesn’t hit until after you have your assistant take a shot with you. It’s not always you’ll have Maeve take a shot with you, but for some strange reason, you were anxious about today, and you knew it had to do with the man opening the show. You hadn’t seen Harry since the morning after his birthday. You think about how he convinced you to meet him in Palm Springs, not that it was a hard idea to say no to.  
“I want to get drunk with you,” he mumbles into his phone.
You can’t help but laugh, “is that so?”
“Mhm…celebrate my birthday with me.”
It’s a tempting offer. You had spent a few days with Harry since he arrived in Los Angeles. He invited you over to his home and cooked you dinner once again. It was a salmon dish, and although you might not be the biggest fish fan, you thought it was delicious, maybe needed a bit more seasoning, but overall enjoyable.
His final LA shows were fun to attend, but he was so busy that you couldn’t get a moment alone with him. That is why when Harry invites you out to Palm Springs to celebrate his 29th birthday, the only answer you want to give him is yes.
“Are you sure? I-I want to be sure you’re spending it with your people, your family, and friends.” You tell him honestly, not wanting to feel like the odd person he has to tend to for the night.
“Want to spend it with you,” he reassures you. “Think we could have some birthday fun.”
You hear the shift in his voice, and you know what he’s imagining. It’s something you want, but there’s no rush, so you’ll see how the day takes you.
“I’ll drive out,” you promise.
“Love, you sure? You want to come and see me?”
Now it’s your turn to assure him that you want to go and spend the day with him, celebrating however he wishes.
The red carpet was a breeze. Maeve met you at the end, telling you that you were good to go in when there was a loud cheer, and it seemed everyone’s attention was on who had just arrived. You shared a look with Maeve, and both knew who had arrived.
The star of the night and predicted to win all of his nominated categories, Harry Styles.
Maeve smiles at you, nodding at you to keep walking, “shot a text to his assistant you’ll be able to meet inside.”
You smile at her grateful. You hadn’t shared with Harry that you’d be here tonight. You had known for a few weeks, but you didn’t know if what you had would fizzle out or continue to grow. Clearly, it’s going far better than you expected. It’s been endless dates and shared facetime calls. Harry knew how to put a smile on your face.
You’re not left waiting long when Harry and his entourage walk in. Harry looks around, and you use that time to look him over. His red carpet looks have always been unique, allowing him to stand out, and tonight is no different. He wears a black velvet suit with a flared coat and a large flower choker around his neck. It took your breath away. You’d have to ask him who designed this suit because you wouldn’t mind owning one of your own. Harry’s eyes quickly find yours, and you smile, waving him over. His eyes check you out from head to toe, and you can’t help the deep blush that takes over you.
“Y/N!” He exclaims happily, coming towards you with open arms. You both notice the cameras around you but choose not to focus on them. Harry sweeps you in a tight hug, your arms going around each other’s waist. Harry takes a moment to breathe you in.
“It’s good to see you, H,” you breathe out.
“Absolutely gorgeous. You’re gorgeous, Y/N.” Harry runs his hands down your side feeling the silk material hugging you tight.
“Me?” You pull back, shaking your head, “look at you!” You gesture to his look. “Absolutely stunning.”
Harry pokes your cheek, “take a compliment for once,” he teases.
You laugh, “sorry, sorry. It’s overwhelming coming from you.”
“Why?” He frowns before he gets a twinkle in his eye. “Is it because you know I mean it?”
“Harry,” you pout. You step closer to him and lower your voice to a whisper. “It’s because you say sweet things, and I know I can’t kiss you to thank you.”
Harry smirks, “you want to kiss me?”
You roll your eyes, giving back his space, but he follows after you. “You know I do, Harry.”
“Later,” he promises.
You love how easy conversation is with Harry, how at ease he makes you feel. You love spending time with him, and knowing that he’s leaving for tour in a few days makes you sad, but he’s promised that it’s only you he’ll be missing when he’s touring.
“Are you sitting by me?” Harry asks you backstage between all the hustle going on around you. You were told you’d be sitting close to Leigh-Anne, knowing Harry’s table was towards the middle of the room.
You shake your head, “don’t think so, sitting somewhere else.”
Harry pouts, “no, you have to sit with me.” Your laugh rings loud, making Harry’s friends turn their way and smile at you, clearly happy to see you. “Jeff will have it all figured out. Please say yes.” You sigh. It’s hard to tell him no, and the truth is you didn’t want to. Harry doesn’t let up, leaning in and kissing your cheek. “Please say yes,” he repeats.
You hesitate, and Harry turns his attention to Maeve. “You’ll both join us,” he tells her. Maeve shrugs, giving you the final say.
You smile, reaching out and touching the lapel of his coat. “You win, Harry. We’ll sit with you.”
Harry pulls you in for a hug kissing your temple three times. “Save me your second drink, love. I’ll be there soon.”
“Good luck!” You yell as he’s pulled away to a dressing room to change into his second look of the night, and you know by the time he comes back out to sit with you, he’ll have a third outfit.
+
A few of Harry’s team that you had the pleasure of meeting a few weeks ago, lead you to the table where Harry’s sister is sitting. He had not shared that he brought his sister or mentioned if you’d like to meet her, but you had to assume he knew and wanted it to happen, or he wouldn't have invited you to sit with him.
You have a moment of panic before Maeve mouths to breathe. Thankfully, Tom was kind enough to do introductions for you. “Gemma, this is Y/N, a friend of Harry’s. Y/N, this is Gemma Harry’s sister.” You didn't know if you should shake her hand or give her a hug, but Gemma made it easy for you by pulling you in for a quick hug.
“Lovely to meet you. He’s actually talked about you,” Gemma shares.
“Has he?” You asked, surprised.
“Mhm…tons,” she teases.
You know that means she knows about you and Harry being an item? No, a thing? A couple? You still have a few things to figure out with Harry, but the one thing you do know is that you’re head over heels for him.
“I’ve heard wonderful stories about your family. He gushes about you whenever he has the chance,” you share because if there’s one thing about Harry, he loves his family.
“He’s the family baby, no matter how much he fights it,” Gemma tells you, and you both share a laugh.
You both enjoy Harry’s opening performance together, lost in how easily Harry makes the stage his own. It’s clear he was meant to be there. You know you’d never get tired of watching him shine. Sitting back down, you’re buzzing for Harry to join you but know you must go backstage to present an award for the night. You excuse yourself with Maeve promising to be back soon. You get a round of “boos,” making you giggle. Gemma squeezes your arm, promising to save you a seat next to her and Harry.
“Maeve, why did I agree to do this?” You’re full of nerves, closed envelope in hand as you’re waiting to be introduced.
She laughs, taking back your lipstick and putting it back in her bag. “You’ll be fine. You were born to be in front of the camera.”
You know that’s true, you loved acting and getting lost in character, but you also loved an audience because you can feed off their energy and rely on doing that in a few moments. Your name is announced, and you walk out, grinning at the audience. You reach the podium and wait a few seconds to let the cheers die down. “Hello, I’m Y/N Y/LN, and it’s an absolute honor to be here tonight. A few of you might recognize me from my films, but most will recognize me from The White Lotus. If you don’t know the show, you’re missing out because Jennifer Coolidge said I’m amazing.” The crowd laughs, and just like that, you feel at ease. “Thank you to the Brits for having me come out and announce this award of the night. I remember growing up and sitting in front of the telly with my sister as we dressed in our favorite dresses and took turns accepting fake awards while also singing our hearts out. Now none of us turned into artists to be able to receive one of these awards, but I think handing them out is the next best thing.” The nominees are introduced, and you wait patiently to announce the winner. Your fingers are crossed for Harry but know you can’t say that at least not yet.
The opening of the envelope is nerve-wracking. You feel your hands begin to shake due to the anticipation. You do your best to hold back a smile as you read over a familiar name.
“The winner for best pop/r&b is….” You take a short pause and then shout into the microphone, “the one and only Harry Styles.”
His celebration is shown on the screen as he hugs his sister before making his way up to the stage. It’s a long walk, and wow, does Harry look good. He’s wearing a sage green suit with a silk top with a few buttons open to show off his chest. Fuck, Harry sure was leaving you breathless with his outfits.
You pulled Harry in for a hug whispering your congratulations to him. He swayed you side to side. “Thank you. Thank you for being here for me.” You only squeeze him tighter in response.
“Think you’ve got a speech to give,” you tease, knowing this might have been going on for a second too long on live TV.  
“Does this win mean you’re going home with me tonight?” Harry whispers in your ear.
You laugh, “maybe if you win them all.”
Harry winks, giving you a kiss on your cheek, and you finally let each other go to allow him to give his speech.
“Wow! Thank you so, so much for this. First of all, I know this was a fan-voted award, so to all my fans that voted - thank you so so much.” Harry raises the award in the air before closing out his speech. He walks with you backstage, laughing at Harry’s circle he made on stage, trying to set the microphone down before deciding to just follow you.
Harry seems to know the backstage well and pulls you into a dark corner pressing you against the wall. You let out a gasp of surprise but don’t dream of pushing him away. You raise your hand, letting yourself twirl the single curl he keeps pushing back.
“What are we doing, Harry?” You whisper, wanting to pull him closer.
Harry leans in closer, his mouth a single breath away from you. “Sharing a moment alone with you.” Harry brushes his lips against yours. Feeling a bit daring, he teased you with a flick of his tongue, making you moan and draw him closer until you were kissing like your life depended on it. You would have stayed with Harry tucked in this corner forever, but Harry was up for many more awards and needed to be seated. Slowly and with great reluctance, you pulled back. “Met your sister,” you push him back and hoped your lipstick stays transfer-free; Zuri assured you it was the best of the best.
“Hmmm…” Harry drops his shoulders, frowning. “Sorry, I did forget to mention I brought her with me tonight.”
You shrug, giving his bicep a squeeze, “besides the panic that first set in, it was fine. We got to talking, and I learned she’s the nicest Styles.”
“Hey, hang on,” Harry pouts.
You bump his shoulder, “don’t worry, you’re still my favorite.”
Harry smiles, showing you his dimples, and you know you’ll never tire of it. You walk back to his table and are met with loud cheers, a shot of tequila passed to everyone in honor of his first win.
The night goes on, and the drinks don’t let up neither do Harry’s wins for the night. Harry wins artist of the year and song of the year, sharing sweet speeches expressing his love to his mother, who signed him up for his audition that changed his life and named the four other boys who began this crazy journey with him. It’s amazing to see Harry acknowledge where he came from and where he is now. You’ve seen his career grow from the video of the public, but now you’ve gotten the chance to know Harry Styles, the boy from Holmes Chapel, and you know he’s a genuine soul.
One final award of the night: album of the year, and it was being presented by Stanley Tucci. Everyone knew it would be a clean sweep, but no one dared to say that aloud until Harry received the last award on stage. Harry’s table has been the most popular of the night, but he always finds his way back next to you, resting a hand on your thigh for comfort. Everyone at his table knew you and Harry were more than friends, but in the eyes of the world, you were only friends.
“If it’s me, you’re coming home with me, remember? You promised,” he whispers, and you shake your head because, of course, he remembered even a few drinks in he hadn’t let himself forget.
“I’d happily go home with you even if you lose,” you assure him. “But we all know this one is yours.”
A few months later, his name is called, and Harry breaks into the loudest cheer. You stand up, embracing Gemma, needing to share your excitement before Harry slips away; he pulls you for a quick hug and promises you’ll have the best night together.
Harry keeps his speech short, passing it on to Tyler and Tom, using that time to speak with Stanley Tucci, not a care in the world as the cameras caught them laughing and smiling with each other. It showed the world how much of a flirt Harry became a few drinks in.
+
It has been one of the best nights of Harry’s life. Being home and honored at an award show he’s been attending for over ten years makes for a memorable evening. Harry is doing his post-interviews, ready to call it a night and head out with you at his side, ready to party and drink. You’ve already promised to stay the night with him, and Harry knows he’s going to spend all his time with you until it’s time for him to leave the country.
“How does attending the Brits feel?” The interviewer asks.
Harry grins, his charisma shining through. “It’s wonderful. Coming home and attending events I’ve been attending for years makes the room feel full of family.”
“How are you thinking of celebrating tonight?” Another person asks.
Harry sways side to side, fidgeting with his rings, then looking at the journalist who asked the question. “To celebrate, what I want to do is go have dinner with my friends.” He shrugs, “I’m going to have a drink,” he emphasizes, although he knows he’s already had one too many tonight. “I leave for tour in four days. So probably won’t go crazy. It’s going to be fun. Thank you.”
He hands the microphone back and thanks everyone for their questions. Harry sees you talking with his sister on the other side of the room and can’t help the smile that blossoms on his face. Harry knows his sister is going to give his mum a full report on you, but he doesn’t mind one bit. He can’t wait for you to meet his mum now, seeing how well you got on with Gemma and all his friends.
Harry was about to make his way across the room, his eyes locked on you in that beautiful silk dress, when he stopped and asked a few more questions. He’s the man of the night, so Harry doesn’t mind, and neither does Jeff, who gives him a thumbs up. Harry knows Jeff only has his best interest in mind, but you’re someone he hopes to keep in his life for a long time, headlines be forgotten.
“Is there a certain person in mind you want to share that drink with?”
Harry laughs, knowing they’re fishing for something juicy, and as much as he has had to drink tonight, he’s good at staying tight-lipped. “They know. Promise they do,” he can’t help the blush that covers his cheeks as he thinks of you.
“What drink are you having?” They ask.
“Can’t go wrong with tequila,” he shrugs.
He bids them goodnight and walks out of the press room with his team following close behind. Once they enter the corridor, and Harry’s sure all the cameras are gone, he slows his walk to find you talking with Sarah and Pauli; he hates to interrupt (not one bit), but he’s ready for a bit of attention from you. He slips his hand between yours, and the grin that takes over your face is instant. You let the conversation die as you trail behind everyone with Harry by your side.
“I know you didn’t come here for me,” he starts. “But I am thrilled to have shared this special night with you.”
You feel your heart fill with warmth, it’s been a perfect night, and you’re happy you were able to be reunited. “Thank you for letting me join you. You know I enjoy spending time with you, and selfishly I would never say no to spending more time with you when you’re leaving in a few days for longer than I’d like.”
Harry knows leaving will be hard on you both, but he selfishly wants to bring you out with him, but he knows you have work to focus on just like he does.
“Do–would–,” he sighs, unable to get his thoughts out correctly.
You sigh, “I’d love to go out and see you, but you know I can’t.” Harry nods understandingly, “I promise as soon as you’re back in the UK, I’ll find a way out to you.”
Harry lights up, knowing there’s going to be a date to see you filling him with ease. “Do you promise?”
You place your hand over your heart, “cross my heart, Harry.”
Harry smiles because he trusts you, knows you'll be okay, and that this relationship you’re building will survive with the nurture and care you’ve both been putting in. Harry’s tempted to ask you to be his girlfriend but won’t because when he does, he wants to keep you to himself for longer than a few days. You talked animatedly about how Mitch showed you the easiest way to shoot back a shot promising that he won’t be able to keep up with you now. Harry kisses your temple and knows that upon winning awards tonight, the true prize he's taking home is you.
+
send me a love note of what you thought, amores 🫶
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ccbunnv · 3 months
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I absolutely love your writing! Could you please write female reader x 2006 bill?
He just got his star tattoo, (few weeks). It's a movie night type of date , there's a lot of tension and yn teses him like crazy . When she notices the star tattoo things take a very steamy turn
i changed the year to 2007 and a little bit of the plot !
˖°🦇ִ ࣪𖤐 bill x fem! reader smut
I have my hand snugly under my boyfriend's shirt, my body pressing against his while his arm is wrapped around my waist securely. my face is smug while the villain wins, just as I predicted.
"I told you." I say, giggling.
Bill rolls his eyes just as playfully, "yeah, yeah you were right."
I laugh, burying my face into his neck and taking in his scent. it's such an odd mix of mint and the lingering smell of hairspray.
my eyes wander down his body, my hands slowly creeping into his pyjama pants. my thumb finds its way into the elastic band of his boxers, and slowly peels the garment back when I find myself looking at a tattoo that I've never noticed before.
I look up confusedly at him, and he looks over at me, with an equally confused look. "what?" he asks.
"what's this?" I question, looking back down at the star tattoo on his v-line.
"oh, it's a tattoo I got last year." he calmly replies.
"that looks so cool!" I excitedly say, "was it painful?"
"it wasn't that bad." he says, smiling a little.
"could you sit properly after it?" I ask, tracing each angle of the star.
"not really." he laughs a little.
"it's pretty." I mutter, my imagination going well.
how hot would it be if he fucked my throat and all I could see was that tattoo?
I inhale deeply, before saying, "can I look at it up close?"
"sure, but it really isn't anything." he shrugs, sitting up properly.
on the couch, I lie down on my tummy and slowly pull his pants down until it reaches his knees. I tug his boxers slightly downwards, so I can get a clear look at his tattoo.
there's three layers, and the smallest one on the inside is filled in. my curiousity gets the better of me, and I lean in to kiss the tattoo. a satisfied moan leaves my boyfriend's lips, and I can't help but laugh.
I look up at him, and he swallows the saliva that's gathering in his mouth. I ask quietly, "...may I?"
this would be our first of many together. he nods, sealing the deal.
I smile, pulling his boxers down and setting his hard-on free from the confinement of his tight boxers. to say it was big was probably an understatement.
it wasn't aroused enough for pre-cum to be leaking out of the slit on his tip, so I had to improvise. I spit into my hand and slowly stroke his base, earning a cute moan from him.
I sit up properly, my legs in a w-shape as I continue to stroke him, which makes him shudder and whimper in pleasure. I lean my head down and press my lips against his tip, kissing it.
I soon wrap them around it, pressing my tongue against the slit, making him grasp my head. his fingers wrap around my hair, tugging on it, as if holding on for dear life.
I suck on his tip, obtaining a jolt from him. he seems to love it.
my hands continue to stroke his base, before I lower my head onto his cock. I take the most that I can into my mouth, his tip hitting the back of my throat but I try my best to not gag.
he whines, breaking into cute little pants. I bob my head up and down his dick, my hands still pumping the parts I couldn't take in when he suddenly thrusts upwards into my mouth.
I lose all control of my reflexes and I gag, which makes him moan. I lift my head up, drooling and looking up at him.
he looks back down at me with a smirk, biting his lower lip. my stomach churns and I blush.
"why so shy? you weren't just now." he comments.
I keep silent, and he says, "on your knees, schatz."
I abide, getting off the couch and sitting on my knees before him, my head in between his legs. he sits on the edge of the cushion, his dick right in front of my face.
I look up at him, and he nods. leaning over, I drag my tongue against his veins, before I wrap my lips around his tip again. he groans, his hand pressing against the back of my head.
I take all I can of him into my mouth again, eagerly bobbing my head front and back to pleasure him. the taste of his pre-cum taints my tongue, and I moan upon tasting him.
he chuckles, slowly pulling my head off. he stands, positioning his dick on my lips again before pushing it entirely in.
my eyes shoot wide open as his tip presses against the back of my throat, and I grip his thighs. he thrusts in and out, my lips making contact with his pelvic area with every enter.
the feeling of his cock in my throat makes me whine, and it fills him with pleasure. each sound of satisfaction that escapes me makes him shudder in enjoyment.
he looks down, as if relishing me on my knees, getting facefucked by none other than him.
he slowly brushes his fingers through my hair, the movement of his hips staggering before ropes of his cum spilled into my mouth. the taste of his load was salty, but it was nice nonetheless.
he pulls out of my mouth, a string of saliva mixed with his cum connect his tip to my lips. I swallow his load, and stick my tongue out to show him that I did.
he looks shocked that I did, and says, "why'd you swallow that? it's unhygienic. don't do that next time..."
he lifts me up and places me on his lap as he sits, pulling out a few sheets of tissue and wiping my lips clean. he then presses his against mine, and I reciprocate happily.
he smiles, wrapping his arm around me and cuddling me close. I do the same, resting my head against his shoulder.
"I love you, schön." he mumbles.
"I love you too, darling." you respond.
𓆩♱𓆪
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thatfanfictionchick · 19 days
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This is intended to be...archival, for myself, mostly. But if you find it interesting you should definitely check out Ikemen Villains!
Ikevil Event - Wrapped in Wicked Romance pt.2
Harrison's Route Premium End
·✦...·✧
Owner: “What?!”
(Please, please let it land on six!)
The ball continued to roll and then…landed on six.
(Y-yes! Harrison was right!)
I glanced over at him and he smiled briefly at me.
Harrison: “Looks like we won all of it. And it’s a big win.”
Owner: “You bet it all on six?! But why? That’s impossible!”
Harrison: “That’s odd. You’re speaking as if there was no way the ball would hit six naturally.”
Owner: “This match is invalid! I was competing with you, not your girlfriend! Any bets she made are invalid!”
Harrison: “No. I told you before that ‘we’ were going to predict the number the ball would land on.”
(Harrison’s acting like his usual self again.)
Owner: “Who ARE you?”
Harrison: “As if I’m just going to tell you.”
Harrison grabbed the owner by his necktie and pulled him close.
Harrison: “You’re swindling innocent people out of their money.”
Harrison: “Then you’re using that money to fund your criminal organization.”
Harrison: “And you’re the boss of that organization. Being the casino owner is just a front.”
Owner: “...You must want something from me, then.”
Harrison: “Haha. I like it, straight to the point. You must have someone cooperating with you to keep everything running smoothly.”
Harrison: “Give me the evidence and I’ll keep quiet about what you’ve been up to.”
Harrison: “Well? What will you do?”
Owner: “Fine. I’ll give you the evidence. Come with me.”
Harrison: “Hey, Kate.”
Harrison: “Stay right behind me unless you wanna die.”
As we passed through the glitzy casino, we were led deeper and deeper into the building, to a back room.
The owner took out a stack of papers from a locked desk.
Owner: “Here’s proof of the connection to our collaborator.”
Harrison: “All right. Hand it over.”
Owner: “Sure. But first…”
The casino owner took out a gun from his suit pocket and aimed it at us.
(...Well, that’s not good.)
Owner: “I’d like you and that young lady to disappear.”
(What should I do…?)
My heart pounded out of control as he pointed the gun at me.
Harrison: “It’s all right, Kate. I wouldn’t let him kill my girlfriend so easily.”
He whispered in my ear and gave me his usual, easygoing smile.
(What’s he got up his sleeve?)
Harrison: “Go ahead and try it, then.”
Harrison: “But I don’t think you’re capable of killing us at the moment.”
Owner: “Wh-what…? My vision is…”
Owner: “Argh…”
The owner’s body lurched to the side and he fell to the floor.
At first I thought he was dead, but…
Kate: “...Is he unconscious?”
Harrison: “Yeah, I slipped a drug that Roger concocted into his wine.”
Harrison: “It’s a very strong sleeping medicine. He’ll be out for two days.”
Harrison picked up all the papers scattered on the floor and stared at the man’s sleeping face.
Harrison: “My lies beat yours. My condolences.”
Harrison: “Let’s go home.”
Kate: “O-okay. …Huh?”
I tried to start walking, but for some reason my legs wouldn’t move.
My body was stiff and tense as the fear from having a gun pointed at me finally hit me.
Harrison: “Honestly…”
Harrison came over to me, slipped a hand beneath my knees, and lifted me up.
Kate: “Harrison…!”
Kate: “I can walk on my own. I’m fine.”
Harrison: “Nine times out of ten, people who say they’re fine aren’t fine.”
Harrison: “I’m not doing it for your sake. I just wanna get the hell out of here.”
Harrison: “So just be quiet and hold on.”
-outside-
He walked down the street carrying me in his arms.
I couldn’t read the expression on his face because he was staring straight ahead.
Kate: “Can I ask you just one thing, Harrison?”
Harrison: “Do whatever you want. Whether I answer it or not is another thing.”
Kate: “Alfons said that you were acting outside of your duties.”
Kate: “And you said today wasn’t a mission. So why did you do it?”
He didn’t answer.
I took that to mean he had no intention of telling me.
Harrison: “The only thing I can say is that I’m not some hero of justice, and I’m not the kind of person who punishes evil deeds.”
Harrison: “All I needed tonight was this information. That’s all.”
He paused, but his gaze remained trained ahead of us.
Harrison: “I threatened you and you were in a very frightening situation. You were so scared you couldn’t even walk.
Harrison: “You said you wanted to get to know me.”
Harrison: “But are you sure you still feel that way even after what you went through?”
(Wait a minute…)
Kate: “...Are you trying to warn me not to get involved?”
Harrison: “Maybe.”
Harrison stopped in front of the carriage and gently put me inside.
Harrison: “Take her back to the castle.”
Kate: “You’re not coming with me?”
Harrison: “Nope, our little charade ends here. See ya.”
He waved the carriage off, and it began moving. Harrison’s figure faded into the darkness.
A few days later…
Kate: “Sorry for having you come with me on my errands!”
Liam: “No problem! I’m the one who said I’d come, plus I’m lucky to spend some time alone with you.”
Liam and I walked through town together when someone called out to me.
Man with Mustache: “Excuse me… But aren’t you the girl I saw at the casino the other day?”
I clearly remembered him, but I wasn’t sure whether or not I should acknowledge him.
Kate: “U-um…”
Man with Mustache: “After I left, someone reported the casino to the police and they uncovered the fraud.”
Man with Mustache: “I was able to get back the money I spent there.”
Man with Mustache: “I thought the person who reported it might be your boyfriend. So…”
Kate: “...I’m sorry, I don’t know anything about that.”
Man with Mustache: “Right… Of course. Well, it’s fine if it’s a misunderstanding, but please let me say one thing.”
Man with Mustache: “I was able to buy my daughter the medication and save her. Thank you so much.”
He bowed his head and left with a bright smile on his face.
(I’m certain it was Harrison who reported it.)
He lied to me and then went back to the casino alone. I’m sure of it.
Liam: “I feel like Harrison is telling some big lie to us Crown members…”
Liam: “I want to believe that it’s a good lie. I don’t have any proof, though.”
Kate: “...I know.”
After Liam and I parted ways, I went looking for Harrison.
(Found him.)
He was sitting alone in the garden as the sun set, reading a book.
His hair swayed slightly in the cold breeze.
Harrison: “I thought I told you that having people stare at me is distracting?”
Kate: “I wanted to talk to you.”
He stared into my eyes, snapping his book shut.
Harrison: “What a coincidence. I have something to talk to you about too.”
Harrison: “Now, was that a lie or the truth?”
Fin.
[main page]
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billthedrake · 1 year
Text
REBOUND
I have the timing down pretty well. I mean, sometimes I come in a minute flat, sometimes I enjoy five minutes of glorious head before cumming. But the rest is predictable, even the traffic. I'll leave my house at 7:25. His place is a little detour on my commute but mostly was on the way to my office. So, twenty minutes drive to his in-town bungalow home, and another twenty to the parking garage I use downtown. I grab some coffee and am at my desk by 8:30.
It's been a solid year now. A year since I broke up with David. Well, since David broke up with me. We told ourselves it was an amicable split but nine years together was a lot. David was my first love, my first serious relationship. We'd planned a future together, bought a house together, and it turns out splitting was bound to be messy. We were cordial, but it turns out we weren't in the place to be friends. I moved out, to a cheaper inner suburb, and licked my wounds for a while.
I wasn't ready to date. Hell, I probably wasn't ready to hook up even, but a man's needs have a way of asserting themselves. Big time. So I set up a profile on the app. I defensively batted off a couple of guys before I saw his profile. His main pic was a photo of his open mouth, tongue slightly out. Before that kind of sluttiness would have been a turn off, but at that moment, I was boned in my sweats and intrigued. His profile description had me even more interested:
"Magic mouth and throat at your service. Talented cocksucker wants a nice piece of meat to suck on. No names, no chit chat, you just walk in, unzip, and get taken care of by a pro. I'm picky about the dicks I suck. Big ones, or hot masculine guys get priority, that's just how it is. Cops and military are especially welcome. I'm worth it, fellas, promise."
The guy's tone was off-putting, I had to admit. But I also had to admit I was boning up thinking of getting my dick sucked. David was never great at oral. I mean, he'd go down on me, but he preferred fucking or just mutual JO. I'd probably never date a dude as buff and perfectly muscled as him, but looking back, maybe our sexual chemistry wasn't the best. I'd been too into looks and perfection to realize it.
I sent Sucker Guy a dick pic. When he said he was looking for big cocks, I wasn't sure how big. But the eagerness in his reply told me I was hung enough. I mean, I'm not a cop or anything, so I just have my dick as my calling card.
"That's a nice fat one, man. Bring it over and let me drain those big heavy balls of yours."
This was no-nonsense, all right. I was more the chat and get to know a guy before stripping down kind of man. But Sucker Guy clearly wasn't. And at that point, my pent up sexual need was winning out. It had been two months since I'd had sex, and I was way overdue.
"Where are you?" I asked.
He gave me a neighborhood. Not close, but not far either.
"I can be there in about 20 or 30 minutes," I replied.
He typed back a full address. "Front door will be unlocked. Come on in."
OK, I felt a naughty thrill driving over. This was the opposite of the relationship sex I'd had with David. I started to worry this anonymous guy wouldn't live up to my expectations. Then I wondered why I even had expectations. So I tampered them. I'd get off, somehow, even if I had to masturbate to completion, but I'd get off. That was enough.
My boner had subsided some by the time I parked and walked up to his front door. It felt odd just letting myself in, but instructions were instructions. The inside was dim, curtains drawn and only a lamp on for light.
Right square in the middle of the living room was a man, fully clothed and waiting there on his knees. Only then I realized I'd never seen his full face, since his pics were cropped from the below the eyes, down. He was older, older than me at least. Maybe late 40s. Handsome in a normal way. I was out of his league as far as the gay pecking order went. I didn't give a fuck about the pecking order.
Just seeing him in that kneeling position and ready to take care of me got me hard. I nodded and said a brief "hey." I wasn't sure if that was against his no-talk preference, but I couldn't help it. If a dude's gonna suck me, I'm gonna acknowledge him.
I did just like his profile said. I pulled down my sweat pants. My boner had returned now, in full force and I enjoyed watching his eyes widen in excitement as he got a good look. I stepped up, giving him a better look. His fingers grazed my bone, and I thought he was going to take his time teasing me as foreplay. Instead, he circled his fingers around the base of the stalk and angled my cock toward his lips. And swallowed.
"Fuck!" I gasped. I watched as he swallowed me. Not all in one go, but close enough. This man knew what he was doing, all right. Some of it was showing off for my visual stimulation, some of it was focusing instead on the physical stimulation of my cock. For about a minute he worked me in a few ways, and I realized he was searching for what was going to turn me on more.
Turns out, I was way into the visual part. Seeing him deep throat me, seeing him hold me all the way inside his throat, seeing him slut out. So he did more of that.
"Suck my fucking cock," I hissed. I'm not a master at sex talk, but figured this cocksucker deserved some feedback. Indeed, the more I offered, the more he got into it.
He was now working me with long, six inch strokes of his wet mouth and throat. A real hooker BJ. It was the furthest thing from David's version of head. But at that moment, my ex was the furthest thing on my mind.
"God, I'm gonna cum, man!" I gasped. It wasn't a warning, it was a promise. Cause I was sure Cocksucker here wanted my load as bad as I wanted to feed it to him.
Maybe I needed to get laid more, because my orgasm just kept cumming. Maybe I didn't shoot unreal amounts of sperm, but it felt like it. Cocksucker swallowed it all in audible heavy gulps. I kept shooting, then dribbles. The whole time, I rode out my O in successive phases... intense, then steady, then aftershocks.
I hadn't touched him the whole time, but I now patted the side of his cheek. In thanks, but also a signal to let up. I was getting sensitive now.
He took the hint and pulled off, giving the tip a final kiss. He had a towel there, and I wiped off the excess spit, then tucked back in. All the while making eye contact with this man. Maybe it was the anon set up but just that eye connection felt particularly powerful at that moment.
"Thanks," he said, breaking the silence. I'm not sure what I expected his voice to sound like but his voice was deep and masculine, probably more than his looks.
"Yeah," I said. "All right," I added, unsure what the etiquette was. "Later, man. Have a good one."
He nodded, a grin on his face. Like he was amused by my awkwardness now that I'd gotten my rocks off.
That awkwardness didn't last long. As I walked back to my car and got in, I felt supremely happy. It wasn't fair to say I'd never had sex that good, but I'd certainly never had head that good, not by a long shot. My only fear was that Cocksucker had spoiled me for others.
To be honest, I still worry that. Because the anon Cocksucker and I developed a routine. After that first time, we'd messaged. I thanked him and praised his abilities. He offered to service me again. Whenever I wanted. So that following Monday, I stopped by on the way to work. I was in and out in two minutes. Cocksucker was just that good. He'd sucked a good load out of me and left me in a good mood all day at work. I told him so.
"Come by tomorrow, then," he replied, adding a devil's emoji.
"Yeah?" I asked. "I will if you're offering."
"I'm offering," he shot back.
It took a couple weeks before we stopped setting up our suck dates. From then on, Monday through Friday, he'd text me or I'd text him only if one of us couldn't make it. But that was a rarity. Almost every workday, I went over to his house and got my dick royally sucked. It never got old. It was like Cocksucker knew how to introduce new tricks in servicing me. And even when he didn't, the old tricks worked just as well. Sometimes I'd try to hold off cumming right away, sometimes I was eager to get off. Sometimes, he'd work me up slowly, sometimes he went right for the kill.
A year in, and I don't even know his first name. I keep worry he's gonna find a boyfriend or partner or something and shut down the arrangement we have going on. Then I worry I'm gonna find a boyfriend.
Maybe that was on my mind this morning. Like clockwork, I pull up to Cocksucker's place at quarter of 8. Like clockwork, I'm boning up in my business casual work khakis when I turn the knob and let myself in. Cocksucker is not always in the living room. Sometimes it's the bedroom, sometimes the kitchen, having his coffee. Sometimes, he's dressed sometimes naked or in his underwear. But he stops what he's doing and crouches or kneels in front of me. Sometimes before I have time to haul out my fat dick.
This morning, he's setting down his coffee on the kitchen counter and crouching on front of me. He's hungry, hungrier than normal if that's possible. It's gonna be a quick one today. As he goes down on me, I worry Cocksucker is keeping me from getting back out on the dating market. Then as he works me I know he is. I mean, there's no fucking way I'd find a man as talented this, who lives to worship my cock.
I place my hands on his hand and start thrusting. This is new for us. Usually Cocksucker prefers to do the work. But he let me fuck his mouth if I didn't go too hard. I was in the mood to today.
"Mother fuck!" I cry as I give it up, hard. You'd think Cocksucker didn't take care of me just yesterday. It was that kind of cum. Hard, one of those light headed orgasms.
As usual, Cocksucker kisses my dick as it clears his lips.
"That good, man?" he asks me. I wouldn't call it chit chat, but Cocksucker and I have gotten comfortable talking more. Mostly getting a little worked up with verbal before the deed and checking in after.
"The best," I say. "Fuck. man, each time you get better at it," I say.
He smiles. Those brown eyes look up at me, and he pats my leg affectionately before standing back up. "I'm gonna hold off drinking my coffee," he says. "I wanna taste your cum for a while longer."
I chuckle. I don't know, for some reason, I decide to take a chance. "The only thing that would have made it better is knowing your name." I look at him intently, gauging his reaction.
I can tell he's tempted but he shakes his head. "Buddy, I'm pretty sure the anon thing turns you on more." He leans back against the counter. He's in pajama pants and a heathered gray college T-shirt. His build is solid, in a middle-aged dude kind of way. The shirt is snugger than the ones he normally wears, and I have a sudden realization he's been working out lately, maybe dieting too. It makes me realize I know nothing about the man.
I sigh. "Man, I don't know what I want, I guess."
"Whaddya mean?" he asks. God that voice is sexy as fuck.
"I mean I want an on-call cocksucker, but I want a boyfriend, too. Guess I can't decide which is better."
"I wasn't expecting this," Cocksucker said. He finally picks up his mug to take a sip and I find myself regretting he's no longer tasting my cum.
"You mad?" I ask.
"Flattered," he says. "But let's just I can't decide what I want either. I thought I could, before you."
I nod. "What makes me different?" I ask. I am on the verge of being late for work, but I have to know.
He smiles. "You know, at first I thought it because you're young and have a great body and an amazing dick."
"I'm not that young," I object. Maybe I should modestly object to the other parts, too, but I don't.
"Younger than me," he says. "By a good bit."
"I don't give a fuck about that," I say. It's like I'm auditioning for a chance to ask him out.
Cocksucker doesn't respond to that. Instead, he continues. "I think after a while, it was your sheer sexual need that made me go for you. That and the nonverbal stuff. When you suck a dude's cock, you get real in tune with the nonverbal communication."
I nod. "Fuck, I should get going, I gotta be at the office soon.... I guess I dropped some heavy stuff on ya."
He shrugs. "If you come over tonight, would you be able to get off again?"
That surprises me, but I know the answer. "Um, yeah. I definitely could."
He pats my shoulder. We've gotten a lot more comfortable around each other. "Then come over and I'll suck your dick again. And we'll talk. OK."
"Yeah," I say. I'm awkward leaving his place, like I haven't been in ages.
Even if the sex was hot, I find myself going through my day lacking the usual good mood from Cocksucker's handiwork. Instead, I'm mulling things over in my head and wondering if I fucked up a good thing.
Only about 2 o'clock, I get a message. "My name's Sam."
I smile. "Cool. I'm Adam," I reply. Then I type a few variations of the same message, erasing each one before finally sending: "I guess I have a name in my head for you besides Cocksucker."
Maybe that's too much but Sam replies. "Cocksucker is good too! Still on for later? I got home around 6, so any time after that."
"Yeah, sounds great," I type back. Already chubbing up at my desk.
144 notes · View notes
yennasun · 7 months
Text
February 15th, 2007. The rematch. Promotion; The USFC
After pulling off an upset victory over defensive wizard Wilfredo Pedroza, Midas climbs the light heavyweight rankings. eventually, he earns his rematch against a rival he and many others believe never really beat him.
After his shocking TKO victory over #1 contender Wilfredo Pedroza, Midas toppled the other contenders one by one.
After a big win, many fighters take time off training to rest and recuperate; to avoid injury. But not Midas, no no no.
Creator heightened Midas' training regimen to levels not thought possible even by the once incredibly endurant Rooney.
Midas had been chiseled into peak physical condition, but below the surface, he could feel physical predictions of what could very possibly be his downfall as a fighter.
But he knew what was next for him, the literal (courtesy of creator) and metaphorical aches and pains of his loss to Dark had boiled and festered. He wanted this; he was hungry for it, starving even.
and during training, he finally got his wish.
"see that?" creator barked while they watched dark's last fight.
"He's uncomfortable with the pace..." Rooney observed.
"that's right, I've upped the intensity for a reason. if It's geared to pour it on all 20 rounds it won't even go 20."
Rooney cringed inwardly at the backhanded description creator seemed oh so eager to use.
Rooney continued his observation. in a game of jabs, dark was unmatched. He blasted his left jab with authority now, abandoning the whipping jab that only seemed to bother the younger Midas in their first fight.
He used it as his Pacemaker, he used it wisley and sparingly; timing it just right.
creator had left to finalize some fights with the commission, so Rooney continued watching.
He'd been so silent Rooney had nearly forgotten he was there.
"Don't listen to "im kid, you're not an it." Midas was confused as to what Rooney meant by this but nodded his head in understanding.
He had noticed that every time creator referred to him, Rooney would make a certain face. He wasn't sure what to make of it, but it couldn't have been good.
He could scarcely understand why. it never bothered him because creator had just always referred to him that way.
The two watched in comfortable silence, formulating a gameplan.
Rooney spoke up.
"It's all a system." He declared.
"Everything comes off of that jab; the cross, the left hook, the combinations all start with the jab." He braced his hands on his knees in thought.
"The first step to dismantling this system is to shut down his jab and force him to fight your way, at your pace." He turns to Midas
"You're not gonna be shifting your feet as much, not at the start anyways. as long as he can land that jab on you, he'll force you into a long-range sniping battle at his pace. So, starting tomorrow, we're gonna focus on countering the jab from your "native" southpaw stance." Rooney stands up and assumes a right-handed stance. He beckons Midas to stand as well.
"From an orthodox stance, the right jab from southpaw comes at a very odd angle; instead of coming straight at you, it either comes over your shoulder or it comes from inside your own jab." Rooney throws a very slow jab at him.
Reacting on instinct, he pulls back at an angle and arcs a slow right hook that still seems to catch Rooney off guard.
He smiles
"Good thinkin' kid, that works like a charm as well."
The two had drilled how to counter the jab endless times, Rooney had also taught him the art of the high-guard.
"The common misconception with the high-guard that's even done by people at a high level is that the high-guard is just putting your hands up and taking punches on the guard. now that KINDA works but let me show you the drawback. put your hands up."
Midas did as commanded, and Rooney threw a stiff hook on the side of his guard.
"Still hurt, right?" Midas nodded
"It didn't hurt as much but i still felt it."
"Even if your hands are up, damage is still damage. The high-guard isn't just some "keep your hands high and tight, then hope for the best." It's an art just like evasion and requires pristine timing to pull off."
Rooney put his hands up.
"Throw some at me." He ordered.
He threw a stiff salvo of lighter punches, but Rooney did something Midas had never seen in over 250 fights.
instead of just sitting there taking them, he only tightened his guard in the areas Midas' punches were gonna land, and he didn't even do it very much.
He timed blocks so that the momentum of the punches only grazed his guard and continued sailing by harmlessly.
for straight punches, He'd move his arms just slightly as if to parry, even taking one hand away from his guard to catch or parry a punch.
Rooney dropped his hands.
"Now that may look risky but Look at this. Put your hands up."
He held his hands up the same way Rooney did.
Rooney threw a slow straight right and he caught it the same way he did.
Rooney stayed in that position while explaining.
"With you catching my right hand, not only am i in a very vulnerable position, but i have only one punch i can follow up with." Rooney threw the left hook afterwards, and it landed harmlessly on Misas' guard.
He finally began to understand.
"The point isn't to make them miss, it's to limit their options." Rooney nodded.
"Exactly, and with your familiarity with the cross-guard you'll make for a jabber's worst nightmare."
as the fight drew closer, the Becker P.C was still very much alive, even with its owner fast asleep.
As it would seem, Midas wasn't the only one doing research on his opponent.
While not being thrilled with the idea of fighting such a difficult fight once again, as a celebrity, he had to put up with much ridicule following the first fight.
you were gifted that fight.
you better kiss the chief commissioner's feet for that decision!
They ought to put you in prison for grand larceny with that robbery!
It all made dark so bitter, so angry.
as the fight drew closer, he wanted nothing more than to punish the one he thought responsible; Midas.
'He's gotten bigger." Chosen said behind him.
in less comfortable silence, dark replied.
"...so have I."
"You were both far too young, must've been 16 when you two first fought."
"How old you think he was?"
"Probably around the same."
They were watching Midas' fight with Pedroza, who'd given dark all kinds of problems in their fight.
"He throws so many punches...how do you even beat that?"
"I like to think he's speeding, Pedroza's not putting up any "roadblocks" to stop his momentum." She looked to dark.
"Your jab will be that roadblock. If he starts speeding, slow him down a bit. see what im saying?" Dark nodded
The fight drew closer yet, until both were in their dressing rooms.
The training was over, now it was time from both sides to put their tactics to use.
"Deep breaths kid...Yeah, just like that." Rooney soothed Midas' growing nerves.
"You got butterflies in your stomach?" He was nervous to answer, any sign of weakness around creator usually resulted in whatever sadistic punishment creator seemed to have on his mind.
"You don't gotta answer. we all feel it. In fact, it's good that you feel it. it means you're here; it means you're alive. It means that you're not an it." Midas felt a strange sense of gratitude and... another emotion he just couldn't seem to name no matter how hard he tried.
"But if it helps, try to look at it less as fear, and more as excitement...like a roller coaster!" He looked up in confusion.
"A what?" Rooney looked like he was getting ready to explain but stopped himself.
"I'll take you to one someday..." Rooney trailed off as another emotion Midas couldn't name played across Rooney's eyes.
"Alright kid, you ready?" He put on his game face and nodded.
Rooney clicked the link, and they were transported to a snowy forest with c clearing in the middle and old, towering stone structures.
Once again, boulders littered the area for the amp rounds.
Dark and Midas eyed each other from their corners as the announcer announced.
"Ladies and gentlesticks, we introduce our main event for the light heavyweight championship of the world!"
"In the red corner, weighing in at 176 pounds even, standing at 6'2 inches with a record of 233 wins, 6 losses with 193 big wins by way of knockout; the champion, the dark lord!"
"And in the blue corner, weighing in at 174 and three-quarter pounds, standing at 6'2 and-a-half inches with a record of 268 wins, 9 losses and 241 big wins by way of knckout. introducing the challenger; MIDAS"
The crowd boomed their appreciation, and it would be far from their first time doing so.
The two approached each other in the middle of the arena, the snow on their skin doing nothing to ease the fire these two had.
"Alright boys im expecting a good, clean fight. fouls will be met with a warning first, then a point deduction. 3 point deductions will result in a disqualification. remember to protect yourself at all times and to obey my commands. Touch up and let's get started."
the buzzer sounded for the 1st round.
Midas first tried to jab his way in, using tricky footwork to outmaneuver his foe. He baitied darks jab and attempted to counter it with his own, but dark simply stepped back or side stepped to avoid it.
He eventually caught on that Midas would jab after faking so dark would quickly follow up his jab with another one and caught Midas several times.
He rethought his approach. Instead of rushing forwards to land his jab, he instead cut off the arena and attempted to corner him and get dark to react on fear.
He used this tactic well and managed to arc his own jab around Dark's shoulder. he even timed dark into his jab while dark was jabbing.
But ultimately, dark kept his jab more active. he almost certainly won the round.
"Alright kid, Hes not biting on any of these feints because you're not using them enough. make him pop his jab too early or too late, keep him guessing!" Rooney advised.
"I-I mean i don't even know what to say, that was a perfect round! keep doing what you're doing and build off of this momentum. keep that jab active and he can't get to you." chosen praised.
In the second round, Midas began to use head and foot feints more actively, he leaned his head slightly forwards to fool dark into thinking he was closer than he actually was and used foot feints to cut angles and cheat distance.
however, dark began to intercept Midas' jab with his right hand. But Midas was evening out the game of jabs, landing numerous snapping right jabs on dark.
So far, the judges had their work cut out for them. the more the fight went on, the harder it was to score.
towards the end of the round, dark landed a swift 1-2-3 combination. the jab baited out Midas' jab, the straight intercepted it and the left hook topped the sequence off.
dark HAD landed more power punches but as far as number go, Midas landed more punches in general. the second was even
"Remember what we practiced kid, keep those arms up but keep them loose until punches start flying at you. keep your lead hand active to act as a wall for his jab. Remember, he who controls the left, controls the right and he who controls the right, controls the fight."
"you're doing great dark, keep it up and keep on adding more punches. you'll get this guy outta here in no time."
in the 3rd, Midas kept a more defensive mindset. He did as Rooney asked. He used his lead hand to control the jab and, consequently, to control the distance.
he either stopped Darks jab before he even threw it, or he batted it off course. whenever dark tried to follow up with the right hand he would use his high-guard to essentially "shrug off" most of the force from the punch. he also found that he could slide his lead foot slightly to his right to slip dark's punch.
But with Midas' defensive mindset, he had a much harder time getting any offense going. Neither man landed much but dark threw the most punches of the two in that round.
"You're starting to shut his jab down, good. hes getting more and more hesitant to throw it. Now when he bites on those foot feints, throw the right hook."
"You're sweeping this fight so far, but don't overwork yourself. get that jab more active and sprinkle the right hand and left hook to keep him guessing."
In the 4th, Midas enacted his game plan. He marched forwards but not in a straight line. He kept his high guard active and dark began to throw his jab less and less.
Dark attempts to initiate an exchange, but Midas slides his rear foot to the left and loops a right hook over Darks jab, wobbling him.
He rushed in an attempt to get an early finish, and the two erupted into a momentary brawl that left the crowd explosively appreciative.
Midas once again stunned dark with the same sequence he used earlier; he threw the right hook and followed it up with a left hand down the middle.
Midas once again tried to get the knockout, but the buzzer sounded to end the 4th.
"Great work kid, great work! See what happens when you shut his jab down? he doesn't know what to do. But don't get careless, we're still down a couple rounds but i think this fight is mostly even. Slow him down a little and dig into his body" Rooney cautioned.
"Alright...Look at me...Okay...Alright, look that last round was a little rough but i think we're still up by a round or two. Keep an eye on his right hand, he's trying to use it to stuff your jab."
He came out more aggressively in the 5th, ramming his jab out in an attempt to either back dark up or bait out his own jab.
The two once again erupted into a brawl when Midas entered an exchange with a lead left hand. Dark pulled back and caught him with a 1-2 but Midas instantly slammed a right and left hook to his midsection punctuated by a right hand to the side of darks head while moving to his left and back to range.
once the buzzer sounded, still no one knew who was winning. One of them had to make a bold move to get ahead on the scorecards.
The two once again matched each others' jabs, but dark marched into a 1-2-1-2 combination, Midas utilized his head movement and high guard to their fullest, and none of the punches score. MT followed up with another lead left hand, and dark just pulled off the center line enough to get away from the punch.
Midas pivoted into a right hook to the body to cut off darks escape and dark attempts a lead uppercut but is intercepted by a left hook.
"Nice round kid, keep going to his body. This next round, i want you to ramp up the pace a bit, make him uncomfortable. That's all the advice i got for you."
"Watch out for his body attack, his body shots were giving you fits in the first fight, don't let him get it started again."
In the 6th, Midas started strong, landing thudding lefts to darks head and stinging rights to the body. but dark wasn't completely out of it.
He jabbed to Darks head and threw a sharp straight-left to his body. He noticed dark dropping his guard slightly.
he tries it again, intending to add a right hook but dark intercepts his jab with a left hook over the top and a right uppercut while Midas tries to dig to his body.
The two yet again slugged it out, and he fell back into his old habit of chasing dark in a straight line, allowing dark to move laterally and reset the distance.
It was yet another even round that saw no clear winners, and yet Midas couldn't help but notice dark huffing and puffing on his way back to his corner.
"That wasn't bad but, damnit kid you gotta stop doing that! if you keep chasing him straight-on like that he's just gonna walk you into that right hand. when he starts moving laterally, move with him. inch closer and closer like a Sherman tank."
"Good work, keep resting the distance like that. when you reset the distance you reset the pace keep moving and moving, pop that jab while you do."
if the last few rounds were even, the 7th is where the tide shifted.
Midas did as rooney asked; He blocked, slipped and caught darks jab intending to build counters off of it.
He also found it much easier to corner dark while he moved with him instead of chasing. He also found that dark threw panic punches when he felt he was being pressured into something.
Once cornered, Midas let his hands go. He threw a 1-2, intending for dark to throw back. Dark threw a 1-2 of his own, but he slipped the jab and caught him with a perfectly timed left hand, stunning him badly.
Midas began to put on a masterclass, smoothly slipping punches through darks guard and digging to his body whenever necessary.
he threw quick punches to the head to entice dark to raise his guard before slamming hard hooks to his sides.
The 7th round was the only round so far that had a clear winner.
"Keep it up kid, we're taking this fight back. But try this, when you corner him make him throw with you. He can't out-brawl you and he knows it which is why he's trying to stay on the outside.
"What did we talk about in training?! Never stand infront of someone with an inactive guard! You can't keep letting him corner you like that, when he tries to do so, fake one way and go the other."
The advice chosen have was good but dark was too spent to properly follow it.
The 8th round wasn't much better for dark, Midas began to switch his footwork up, finally finding enough of a groove to search for those hidden angles.
He continued with his earlier tactics and skillfully blocked, slipped and countered most attempts dark made to keep him at bay.
But he wasn't completely out of the fight. In fact, dark could hang surprisingly well at such a high pace.
But he didn't just throw random bombs, he was smart with his explosions, waiting for an opening to present itself once Midas began throwing. But this tactics was far from ideal, as he was still getting scored on.
Dark did use the momentum to spin him and exit the wall his back was up against to reset the distance but Midas continued setting up his body shots and used hook to cut dark off when he tried to move laterally.
"I like the pace you're setting, ramp it up more and more and this guy is toast!"
"Alright alright, that wasn't as bad as it could've been. I think it's time we switch it up, i want you to fight with your back to the wall. Whenever he digs to your body rip those hooks and uppercuts to his head."
In the 9th, Dark's new pace actually caught Midas off guard.
He fought off his back foot, trying to lead Midas into punches that mostly swung at air.
His combination punching were still issues for Dark, but he began throwing with him, timing him into hooks and uppercuts.
In the mid-point of the round, dark caught Midas with a left hook over his jab. He steps out and uses another left hook to try and set up a right hand, but Midas steps out and slips it, landing with a right hook on Dark's momentarily lowered guard.
The rest of the round was an even slugfest that saw both damaged but dark was once again the worse for wear by the end of the round.
Midas had a cut opened on his right cheek, but dark's cut was above his left eye.
"Target that cut, once he can't see that right hand coming the ref is sure to stop him on cuts!"
"Defend defend defend, do not let him tee-off on that cut otherwise you won't see that punch coming."
Midas came out in the 10th determined to gain the initiative, but Dark wasn't eager to let him.
Darks' constant jabs and movement gave off the impression of a fighter who didn't want to fight, and this angered him.
Sure as the sun rises that he had dark right where he wanted him, he tried to add insult to injury by attempting to beat dark at his own game.
He followed dark's slower pace and was even scoring on him, he could win this after all!
At least, that's what he thought. Little did he know, Dark was lining him up for a nasty overhand right over his jab that caught him flush.
For the first time in the fight, Midas was staggered.
"No! No No No! You practically gave him that last round on a silver platter, what the hell's wrong with you! You never try to beat someone at their own game unless you're confident you can!"
"That was a good punch you caught him with, line more of those up and you'll put him away in no time"
Midas tried to come out more aggressively in the 11th but dark instead threw combinations to make him raise his guard before circling away. He then countered him from long range.
Most of the round went this way with Midas getting visibly frustrated.
At the end of the round, Midas used his tricky footwork to bait the initiative before shifting into orthodox and slamming a hard overhand right and left hook combination into dark's head.
But he had the sense dark was planning something, he readied himself but the buzzer ended the round.
"What you did at the end of the round...More of that, i wanna see more of that. When you do that, he comes to you and he's not as good on the front foot against a fresh opponent.
"Keep doing what you're doing, if you keep him busy then he can't fire back once you start moving away. Even if they're not landing clean they still count for something."
Midas came out more slowly in the 14th, dark had first assumed it was fatigue and began to try and pressure him.
His intuition proved to be correct, Dark sprang to life and began landing combinations.
But he made the mistake of trying to stand and trade with Midas.
He rallied back, making dark back up several times.
The round was volatile, when it seemed one finally established control the other would quickly and violently wrench it from their grasp.
Towards the end, Midas landed a 1-2 and dark immediately tried to counter with the left hook. He used his momentum to slide his right foot to sn extreme outside angle. He then turn shifted into orthodox, using his new left lead foot to land a left hook through Darks guard.
The two had beaten each other bloody, and Midas was seeing double through his good eye, but the worst was yet to come.
The 15th was more high paced than the last, the two stood in the middle of the arena and didn't leave the spot for a majority of the round.
They traded blazing combinations that left their faces a crimson mask of viscera.
Both fighters would rather die than back up, the two had all but abandoned their gameplans and put everything into taking each other out right here and right now.
When the buzzer signaled the end of the 15th, but fighters didn't retreat to their corners.
They stood before the other, eyeing each other down defiantly through the blood, sweat and very few tears.
"alright boys, c'mon time to pack it up." The ref ushered the fighters to their respective corner.
The 16th was more of a high-paced chess match but dark seemed the worse for wear, but then again, there weren't many who could match the menace's stamina.
Midas landed hard combinations, flowing his straight and looping punches into a smooth cacophony of devastation. It was all dark could do to survive.
The round had ended, and both where damaged badly. The fight was dead even and would be judged by these last few rounds
"Okay kid, Amp rounds are coming up. you know what to do"
"Okay dark, Amp rounds are coming up. You know what to do"
The two met at the center again, the beaten fighters still attempted to stare each other down while the ref laid out instructions.
"These are the amp rounds gentlemen, which mean no holds are barred. touch up and lets get the fight going.
When the buzzer started, dark immediately took flight, Midas flew after him but dark landed swiftly and hurled 2 of the large boulders at him.
Midas blasted them to bits as he flew, and sent another one at dark, but he moved just in time. he landed near dark with a large explosion, sending him careening away.
Midas began following the instructions of a seemingly invisible coach that knew exactly what to do.
Dark quickly recovered from the explosion and decided to engage in hand-to-hand combat again.
Midas sees this and allows volcanic crystals to encase his arms.
Dark utilized leg and body kicks from range to slow him down and one of them hurt Midas' knee badly.
Catch The ravenous voice bellowed.
He caught dark's body kick and floored him with a nasty overhand that he was sure to break bones.
Dark may have outpointed him as far as strikes, but Midas' activity and the knockdown may have evened up the round.
In the 18th, dark tried to go back to his plan of using kicks at range, but Midas was in his flow totally and completely.
Move forwards. The same voice said once he caught darks body kick, this was good at forcing dark backwards and applying pressure.
Check! MT lifted his shin and checked a leg kick dark threw.
He was all too familiar with this voice; he didn't know what it was or where it came from, but it'd always been there.
It was ravenous, cantankerous and it wanted blood. It scared him
He continues to shut down darks kicks to the point where dark is desperately plodding forward in an attempt to reach.
"-Are definitely setting a strike record according to the judges" Midas vaguely heard one of the arena-side commentators say.
Then Midas did something he never did before.
Punish him the voice demanded.
He was unsure what to do.
Punish him, let it all go! It demanded louder.
Suddenly, he felt his confidence go through the roof and into cloud 9, he felt on top of the world, like he couldn't be touched.
He dropped his hands and turned to the commentator.
"Count 'em up!" He demanded as he smashed a jab into darks face.
He picked dark off at range; his long straight punches and looping hooks easily found their way through his guard and busted him up.
"I'm the best in the usfc!' He yelled as he landed another 1-2 and dodged Dark's return fire.
"I'm the best there's ever been!" 2 more hooks wobbled dark.
"I'm the best there ever will be!" another 1-2-3 combinations sent dark's blood splattering in the already crimson-tinted snow.
In the 19th it seemed the same would continue, Midas kept exerting his volume until dark haphazardly rushed him with and overhand right.
He took a step back, shifted into orthodox and pulled dark into a brutal knee that slammed into his side.
Dark doubled over and sent a blast at Midas to make space.
He gave chase but dark shot a double leg and attempted to wrestle him to the ground.
Midas planted himself and put a whizzer in on one of dark's shoulders, but dark got an ankle pick and went into a full mount.
Dark used his superior wrestling to maneuver Midas into worse and worse positions.
He reversed the position and found himself on the bottom half of the north-south position, but Dark took his back while Midas tried to posture up.
Dark sank the body triangle and attempted to sink the rear-naked choke, but where Midas' offensive wrestling lacked he more than made up for in defensive wrestling.
He peeled dark's arms off him and controlled the limb before digging his way out the opening he just made, prying himself out of the body triangle.
The two stood back up and the round ended.
While in his corner, Midas had an idea.
He left his corner just as the round was about to start and pointed at the ground, signaling he wanted to stand and trade this last round.
dark also pointed at the ground, nodding his head.
The buzzer started and the two aired it out for the last 3 minutes.
The round was non-stop explosive action as the two fought tooth and nail for a last second KO.
But Midas got the better of the exchange and wobbled dark. He threw punch after punch, and the ref, as well as chosen, were considering stopping it.
Just when it seemed dark was ready to go, the buzzer signaled the end of the fight.
The two smiled and embraced, battered, bloody and exhausted the two awaited the judge's verdict in the others embrace.
"Ladies and gentlesticks, the cards spell a unanimous decision. All three judges scored the bout 6 rounds to 8 with 7 rounds even...And NEW, USFC LIGHT HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPIONSHIP OF THE WORLD: MIDAS
He cried out in joy as he dropped to his knees, exhausted thoroughly.
The fighters were promptly escorted to the hospital for a post-fight check-up. The fight left both with injuries warranting a sat of a few hours. Midas needed to have the burns on his arms treated and dark needed stitches to stop the bleeding on his face.
The two sat in their beds, in silence at first.
"Heh, that was fun...dontcha think?" Dark was the first to speak.
'Yeah...it was pretty fun."
"You got some juice on those body shots, gonna be feeling that for a while."
"Yeah? you kept that jab in my face so much that I'm still seeing it." Dark laughed, and Midas felt a strange connection building.
The two had, less than an hour ago, tried to essentially kill each other.
Not only that, but they'd done it twice now.
And here they were, bandaged like mummies with blood still seeping through, laughing and joking.
Enemy, He is an enemy! The voice boomed yet again.
He tried to shake it away, but it was persistent in the back of his mind.
Eventually, dark was escorted out to get an x-ray done.
He came back in with a sly smile on his face.
"You broke my ribs and my jaw, good job!" He chuckled.
Midas was then escorted out.
They hadn't told him what his x-ray yielded until the doctor came in saying he needed surgery.
"Your orbital is fractured and the muscles in you eye socket are trapped, we'll need to operate but lucky for you, it's on the commission's dime this time." He pulled a syringe out.
His eyes widened as the voice boomed over all else.
POISON, Don't let them!
The doc drew close to inject and Midas struggled, trying to keep him from injecting the poison.
"Shit! nurse, help me restrain him!" He thrashed and yelled, even activating his powers before feeling a pinch in his neck.
NO! The voice yelled as everything went dark.
Midas woke up on his desktop next to Rooney, who went giddy at the sight of him.
Rooney embraced him tightly.
"You did it kid, you did it! I'm so proud of you!" He felt that same, unfamiliar warmth spread across him. But this time, he welcomed it.
However, the joy was short lived as creator barged in.
"You let the fight go the distance and nearly lost...That is unacceptable...I've had this planned for a while but i think now is a good time to go through with it." He said with a sick smile
"You, With Me, Now!" He pointed to Midas and demanded.
He reluctantly obeyed, and creator took him to his personal window.
Midas was frozen in place as creator began re-writing his code.
His vision dimmed as searing pain soared through his body.
He screamed, it felt like he was being ripped apart and burned alive all at the same time.
He felt something on his left and whatever it was seared into his skin.
Rooney came running but froze in place.
It was over, Midas cradled his left hands with whimpers as steam leaped off of it.
Rooney looked closer and his features blanched.
It was a recall brand...Now he could never escape.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
oh man this one's been a long time coming. sorry for the lack of updates, life's just been super busy and ive been turbo-burnt out.
I did some experimenting and took the emphasis off the psychological side for a more tactical approach as this fight scene was supposed to be a tactical chess-match that slowly turned into a slugfest, which is why it seems so drawn out.
I will eventually go back to my original approach but i had to beat writers' blocks somehow, and why not do it while updating my story.
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tta episode 10
“Last time, on Total Takes Action: our remaining contestants competed in a detective noir themed challenge to uncover a secret traitor within their very midst. Scary went bananas… again, and Scruffy got served a heaping dish of steaming hot reality. O was accused of the crime, but it was Max’s secret detective skills that pulled through and uncovered the real imposter… Fren! Or should I say Alistair, award-winning theater actor? Unfortunately for him, the Gilded Chris was not an award he won, and he was sent off the silver screen and back to the stage. Is anyone who they say they are? Find out now, on Total! Takes! Action!”
The craft services tent is dreary and quiet today, not a hint of conversation or comradery between the remaining contestants. 
Scruffy is seated far away from Scary, jogging in place in the corner of the tent. Scary is ignoring them, flipping through their notes and making additions and addendums. Max is reading something, his brow furrowed in concentration, O is busy spooning the morning breakfast slop, and Peter is sitting awkwardly by himself on the vacant end of the table. 
---
PETER: “Ever since Fren- sorry, I mean Al- left, it’s been dead quiet around here. Everyone left hates each other! Not only that, but since my last friend left the island… I’ve been completely alone.. I think this might be the first time I've spoken out loud in a week!”
---
O coughs. Scary wipes her nose on her lab coat sleeve. Peter looks like he’s about to pop a blood vessel. 
Finally, the intercom crackles, and he breathes a sigh of relief. 
“Goooood morning, campers! If you’ll all join me in front of the craft services tent, we have a special treat for you today!”
Scruffy raises an eyebrow. “But- our next challenge is supposed to be-”
“Don't wet yourselves with terror just yet- this is not a challenge! Just for fun! And ratings!”
Scary rolls her eyes and snaps her notebook shut, walking outside with the rest of the cast. Only Scruffy lags behind, apparently disturbed by the sudden change in structure. 
"Do you really believe it's going to be nothing?" Peter asks Scruffy, tailing alongside them.
"Um... I guess... I mean, Chris works by a schedule, but he can be pretty unpredictable," the neon lime wonders aloud. "Maybe he'll invite us to a cozy dinner and drug us, and we'll wake back up on the island..."
Scruffy sighs dreamily while Peter quivers in terror.
---
SCRUFFY: "I haven't been on top of my game this season, and it's really making me miss the island. At least then I could predict what was coming... now, it's like Russian roulette with a fully-loaded barrel!"
---
Chris is standing with an unfamiliar camera crew right outside of the tent, chatting about shot lists and lighting. As the campers shuffle outside, he turns with a big smile. He’s wearing an odd pair of square glasses and a beret today. 
“Good morning, treasured and beloved children,” Chris speaks in a pleasant, soft tone. Behind him is a massive buffet loaded with every breakfast food imaginable- eggs, toast, bacon, pancakes and waffles of every variation, croissants, jams and butters and chocolate spreads, with pitchers of fresh squeezed orange juice lining the table-cloth covered surface. Chef is at one end of the buffet, setting down tiny plates and toothpicks, covered in bacon grease and sweat. “Did you all sleep well? Ready to enjoy your nutritious breakfast?”
The campers halt, looking between each other as if no one is quite sure if this is a mirage or not, like an oasis on the desert. Scruffy silently pumps their fist in the back.
Finally- “Did you hit your head or what?” Max asks bluntly. 
The host chuckles back. “Of course not,” he turns to the crew behind him. “The children get three vitamin-packed, nutritious meals every day. We have our own personal chef on standby, so everything is made fresh.”
Chef waves from the end of the table, little flecks of bacon grease flying off his fingers.
“I’m pretty sure there was a cockroach in the oatmeal this morning,” O mumbles to Max. He nods. 
Chris looks back to the campers. “Today we have a very special treat for you all. I’ve canceled the mindfulness and meditation, so you all better give your full attention to the very nice people from Reality, Weekly,”
Scruffy gasps. The campers look between each other, still in a shocked silence, now even more confused than before. Finally, Scary clears his throat. "Um, who?"
"WHO?!" Scruffy shouts from behind them, right into her ear. She claps her hands around her head and glares.
---
SCRUFFY: “Reality Weekly?! THE Reality Weekly?! North America and selective European countries’ number one reality TV gossip mag?! THEY RAN THE DUNCNEY VS. GWUNCAN STORY FOR YEARS! This is the most exciting day of my life, oh my God- I was right, staying in the game is WAY more important than 50 million dollars!”
---
“Can we get Nadie on set?” a stagehand yells. Two production assistants set up some chairs inside the trailers as the cast looks on.
"Make sure to be veeeery nice for the lovely television producers, and I'll see you all at your gourmet dinner tonight," Chris clasps his hands together and strains his words, trying to convey one thing to the remaining campers- behave. "Anyone who doesn't want to participate will see Chef in the, um... meditation tent."
The campers turn to see Chef sharpening a fish hook by the buffet. Chris wishes them good luck and walks off with a few sharply-dressed producers. 
"This is such [CENSORED]," Scary sighs.
"I knew it was a challenge..." Peter grumbles, taking a seat on the grass by the buffet table and dejectedly peeling an orange.
"Does this mean we're not getting drugged?" Scruffy pouts. "No matter- I've been preparing for my Reality, Weekly interview since I was six years old!"
They take a seat next to Peter, crossing their legs and smiling. "I used to practice in front of the mirror before school- of course, in those interviews, I was giving my winner's speech... but this is alright, too,"
Peter splits the orange in half and gives one handful of slices to Scruffy. "Did you always want to be on TV?"
"Oh, yes. I've known for years that Total Drama is my home!"
Scary coughs in the back. "Loser!"
Max elbows her and she lunges at him. Their growls and his screeches fade out as she chases him across the lot. Scruffy turns back to Peter. "What did you want to do?"
"Oh, a lot of things," Peter nods. "Doctor, psychologist, research scientist, teacher... people say I have a real knack for helping."
Scruffy makes a face. "Has helping people ever gotten you anywhere?"
Now it's O's turn to elbow him. He frowns disapprovingly and turns to Peter. "Well, I think that's wonderful, Peter. Maybe we can be therapists together!"
"Maybe!"
Scruffy rolls their eyes and shakes their head sadly. "Just not cut out for this game..."
The sound of a door opening catches the attention of the remaining players and they turn towards their sides. A young person dressed in a purple tank top and black pants comes out from the impromptu production tent set up outside the craft services tent, adjusting a lav mic and grinning widely. 
“Okay, who’s first?” they ask, flipping their braids over their shoulders. 
The campers look between each other. One tiny voice pipes up from the back of the crowd. “Ooh, me! Me!”
The interviewer ignores Scruffy and sighs, tapping their chin. “How about… Max. We have a lot of questions for him,”
Max screams from far away as Scary catches him.
"Can someone get him for me?"
---
The camera adjusts and focuses on Max sitting in front of a wall, the space cleared out for the interview. Nadie remains behind the camera, clearing their throat. “Good morning. I’m Canada, but you can also call me Nadie, if you want,”
“Your name is Canada?”
“Nadie for short. Shall we begin?”
---
NADIE: “Okay, so when I got this internship at Reality Weekly six months ago, I was so totally not expecting to get sent out to Toronto to interview the Total Takes cast- this is like a dream come true! My supervisor Sierra picked me specifically, because I’ve already seen all of Total Takes Island- five times!”
---
Nadie tries to contain the smile in their tone as they begin. “So, Max- what’s it like being back on the show?”
“Terrible,”
“Last episode, you said that you only came back to see your girlfriend, Michela- now that she’s gone, do you still want the money?”
He shrugs. “It couldn’t hurt. Might as well try while I’m still stuck in this hell hole,”
---
Outside the trailer, Scary, Scruffy, O, and Peter wait on the grass. A shaky, handheld camera records them, and Scary glares at it. 
“What, like we aren’t being recorded all the time on this damn set?”
The cameraman doesn’t respond. She groans and stands, walking back to the craft services tent. The camera turns and follows her, stopping every time she turns around. 
“Would you BUZZ OFF!” she finally yells, storming into the tent and zipping the flap behind her. 
Scruffy runs in front of the camera. “You can film me! Look at me! I loved your guys’ exposee piece on Sugar!”
The camera turns away. 
---
Max walks out of the trailer in a few minutes, and O is called in. 
The former walks past Peter and Scruffy waiting outside and locks himself in the communal bathroom. Scruffy groans in agony. 
"This is torture! No one here even cares... do you know how special being on Total Drama is? It's hard, yes, but... we're making history! We have fan clubs, people speculating about us and our relationships, magazines running stories on us... what part of that doesn't sound amazing?!"
"Um... all of it," O grumbles, sitting criss-cross in the grass while snacking on a baby muffin. "Is that really why you came here? To get famous?"
"Not really. I just wanted to... you know, experience it for myself," Scruffy sighs. "Why'd you come?"
"My therapist recommended it, thank you very much," he responds curtly. "And I think this place is a petri dish of potential clients in the future. After this season is done, we can start doing group therapy!"
"Geez, and you think I'm weird for obsessing over the show," Scruffy rolls their eyes. "But at least we can agree on one thing-"
O nods. "People here are crazy,"
---
“I guess meeting everyone has been fun,” O says, tapping his chin. “Peter is pretty chill, Scruffy is… um… I’ll pass on that. Max has his moments, but I see a lot of love in him, deep down,” O puts a hand over his heart. “Just the way he looks at Michela tells me that behind all that nerdy superiority, he’s got a good heart. Scary is a black tar pit of nothingness and she might’ve been forged in the depths of the sun.”
---
The camera films through the mesh craft services tent window as Scary sticks another fork in the wooden table at the center of the tent and digs it deep into the pliable surface. She takes out a rubber band and pulls it apart, creating a long, rubber string. They tie one end to one fork, and likewise to the other, then pulls it back with a small pebble. 
She grins as she releases the elastic and it flies across the tent, straight into the camera lens. 
---
SCARY: "What? I've been making some good progress here, and after last episode, I'm not taking any chances letting the wrong people see what I'm cooking up," they hold up their notebook and grin. "They'll see. They'll all see!" she laughs maniacally and then coughs. "But, as much as I hate to admit it, losing my assistant has taken me a step back. A scientist is only as good as their word, and in most cases, their word needs to be excessively reviewed and re-reviewed."
---
Scruffy runs a lap around the filming trailer, then another. Peter gets called inside and O walks out, stretching and retreating to the other trailer. 
---
“Scruffy is… well… they’re an enigma, let’s say that,” O scratches his chin. “They may be too far gone for even me to help.”
---
“I almost feel bad for them,” Peter says, hands in his lap. “They’re straining themself so hard, and I can tell when someone is about to snap…”
---
“Another formidable opponent lost to the insanity of Total Takes,” Max shakes his head. “A damn shame.”
---
"Wasted potential," Scary flicks a dustball off their lab coat.
---
Peter sits in the designated chair against the chosen backdrop, fidgeting nervously. 
“You doing alright, Peter?” Nadie asks, adjusting his lavalier mic and then stepping back. He nods sheepishly. “If you insist. First question… what’s it like making it this far in the game after being dropped so early from the competition in the first season?”
“Scary,” he says immediately. “Even scarier now that Fren is gone.”
“Were you two good friends?”
“He was nice to me,” Peter mumbles. “No one is nice to me… I mean, just off the bat.”
“How do you feel about Max’s influence over his elimination?”
“What do you mean?”
Nadie scratches her chin awkwardly. “Well… if he’d never been exposed, he’d still be here,”
Peter looks at his feet. “I guess I’ve… never thought about it that much…”
---
O rifles through a bag of chips from the kitchen, watching Scruffy pace back and forth and murmur to themselves like a madman. Scary joins O, hands on their hips as they watch the display. 
“Pathetic,” she sighs. “Oh, well. I suppose they were always a ticking time bomb. Say, O… you have any experience in chemistry?”
“Only in the chemicals of the mind!”
“Nerd!” Scary shouts, walking away. “Have to do everything my damn self around here…”
Max steps out of the bathroom, looking back and forth. The camera zooms in on him as he walks out, exhaling. 
“Boo!”
He screams and leaps as Scary shouts in his ear. She chuckles and watches him blush and regain his composure. “Was that necessary?”
“No. That’s why it’s fun,” she smiles. “Hey, you’re a smart guy, right?”
“Maybe. Who’s asking?”
“I need a second opinion,” Scary pulls out her notebook. “Some peer review, if you will. Scruffy has obviously fallen off the deep-end, and I have some ideas to bounce.”
“What, your parole officer busy this week?”
“You and I both know I’m above the law. What do you say? I’ll give you a fraction of the profits if I’m right… 10%?”
“25%”
“20%, and that’s my final offer,”
“Deal. Twenty it is,”
Scruffy trips on a pebble and wails on the ground, rocking back and forth in front of them.
---
“Peter is…” O starts, looking up. 
---
“A pushover,” Max scoffs. 
---
“A good guy, but not Total Takes material,” Scruffy nods. "Poor guy is going to get eaten alive..."
---
“Look, there’s nothing wrong with him, he’s just so milquetoast,” Max rolls his eyes. “Still, I wouldn’t mind making it to the finale with him. For obvious reasons.”
---
Peter sits in the craft services tent, biting his nails and glancing over to Max every few minutes. He’s busy rifling through a few of Scary’s notes, looking up every few seconds to make sure no one can see what he’s doing. The camera zooms in on the papers nonetheless. 
Peter turns to O. “Can I get some advice?”
“What?” O yawns, leaning on his elbow. “Oh, yeah, sure! What’s the deal- GAD? SAD?”
“Um… I just want your opinion on something. You know, like a friend,”
O raises an eyebrow. 
---
O: “I guess it’s just kind of… weird… having people want to talk to me like a friend… I’ve never had a friendship that existed outside of impromptu therapeutic discussions and mutual validation, you know?”
---
“If there was someone who… ruined a friendship for you… would it be right to be angry at them?” Peter asks, looking at his lap nervously. 
“Anger is a secondary emotion, if we can get to the root…” O slows down, then sighs. “Yes. Yes it would be right. In fact, I’d be even angrier! If I got to actually keep a friend, and then someone else ruined our friendship, I’d be furious!”
“Really,” Scary scoffs from across the table, peering over her notebook. “Mr. Cool Therapy, that’s not good client advice.”
“I’m not a therapist,” O crosses his arms, matter-of-factly. “I’m not licensed, after all. It’s illegal to impersonate a doctor. We’re talking… as friends!”
“Whatever,” she sighs, returning to her notes. 
---
“O is… whatever, I guess,” Scary crosses her arms. “Not worth my time.”
---
“He’s fine. Michela liked him enough,” Max sighs. "She does have astronomically bad taste, though... wait, what does that say about me?"
---
Nadie steps into the craft services tent and calls in Scary.
"No way in hell," Scary grumbles, leafing through the notebook with Max at her side. "You're lucky I haven't smashed in all your stupid equipment yet."
"Um, yeah, Chris warned us about that, so... he took the liberty of setting up a minefield around the production tent," Nadie smiles nervously. "I wouldn't get too close if I were you."
---
"What do I think I've accomplished on the show?" Scary scoffs at the question.
---
Max sighs. "Nothing,"
---
"Not enough!" O says.
---
"I guess I've... survived, and that's good enough, right?" Peter smiles bashfully.
---
"Here's an accomplishment for you: today's minefield will be the last," Scary grins. "Chris is going down."
---
It's dark out now, the sun setting behind the cityscape. Scary steps out of the trailer and Nadie sticks his head out as she leaves. “Scruffy?”
“FINALLY!” Scruffy jumps up from the grass where they’ve been waiting for the past few hours, and dashes inside the trailer. “I am so ready for this!”
“Love the enthusiasm,” Nadie smiles. “We don’t actually have a lot of questions for you, but this one’s on everyone’s minds…”
“Anything!” they speak enthusiastically, folding their hands in their lap and sitting up straight.
“What are your thoughts on Patrick and Julia being an item?”
Scruffy’s smile drops. “What?”
“Damn, right, I forgot that you don’t have internet access here. Patrick and Julia are an item now! Considering your close friendship with Julia, a lot of the fans are wondering…”
They force another smile. “That’s great! That’s so cool and awesome, I’m SO happy for them! Haha! Even though Patrick’s style of antagonism directly conflicts Julia’s and they’re way too different and he knows nothing about her. I’m fine! You know what? I didn't even want to do this interview anyway- I have to go!” Scruffy stands, running outside the trailer. 
---
Scruffy sits in the confessional, wailing.
---
Scary and Max watch them running into the makeup and hair confessional, covering their face. “What got up their ass this time?” Max asks. 
---
Peter and O watch the two from inside the mess hall. "What do you think they're doing?"
"Nothing good," O responds, shaking his head. "Anything those two can agree on has to be trouble."
"I don't know, maybe we're being too harsh..." Peter starts, twirling his thumbs around each other. "I don't want to be mean..."
O sighs and takes a seat at the table. "Listen, man. Speaking... as a friend, I think you can be pretty soft when it comes to people messing with your feelings. And I know that... I haven't been doing a good job at regulating that for everyone. I know it sounds crazy, but sometimes I feel like therapy just pushes positivity onto people instead of validating their feelings!"
"I don't think that's crazy at all," Peter says. "Didn't your therapist get you to come on reality TV to face a fear?"
"Yeah... maybe... that wasn't the right move," O sighs. "I know it's unprofessional, but I see you guys as friends, not clients, and I would never subject my friends to that same crap."
"I don't think that's unprofessional, I think that's empathy. It's sweet," Peter smiles. "If only everyone else felt that way..."
"Hey, man, if you need me, I'm here for you. What's been happening to you isn't fair, and if you wanna get mad-"
“It’s just so unfair!” he suddenly shouts, slamming his fists on the table. “Why do these things keep happening to me?!”
“That's it- stand for yourself! Don’t let your fear take over!”
“You’re right! I’ve been letting myself get walked on for too long!” Peter stands. “I’m going to confront Max and Scary and tell them exactly what’s on my mind!”
He storms out of the craft services tent and to the impromptu camera tent, where the Reality, Weekly crew is having their dinner break. Max and Scary are hovering around the group, using their lights to read through the notes. 
“I’m no scientist, but this all seems right to me,” Max says. “If your readings are correct, and your evidence can be held up in court, you definitely have a case.”
“I knew it!” Scary grins. “Chris McLean is SO going down!”
“MAX AND SCARY!” Peter shouts, pointing an accusing finger at them. The two look up from their notes and squint at him. 
“Great. What now?” Max mutters, crossing his arms. Scary hands him the notes and walks up to Peter, hands on her hips. 
“What’s the deal, pipsqueak?”
“The deal is that… that…” Peter quivers, a little unsure of himself, before he takes a deep breath and stands his ground. “You’re MEAN!”
“You’re RUDE. You’re EVIL!” he takes a step forward. “And you’re not even that much smarter than anyone else! We can ALL TELL!” 
Scary scoffs. “God, this is pathetic. You really think that-”
She takes a step closer and triggers a sudden hidden trip wire. The sound of twanging makes both her and Peter stop dead in their tracks and turn to the sound of fizzling under their feet. They both jump to the ground, covering their heads as a landmine goes off behind them- sending Max flying across camp and instantly disintegrating all of Scary’s notes. She watches the papers turn into ashes in horror. 
Chris chuckles, watching the display from afar. “Man, I love fireworks,”
---
A medical helicopter takes off, Max tucked inside. Scary is seething, fists clenched. 
“Well… that was fun,” Nadie says, waving goodbye to the chopper. 
Chris smiles. “Yes. Yes it was,”
"MONTHS of evidence- gone!" Scary turns to Peter. "You're dead. You're dead meat, and I'm gonna eat you!"
"Weird," O breathes, then turns his head to either side of him. "Hey- where'd Scruffy go?"
---
Scruffy remains in the confessional, wailing.
---
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erabundus · 5 months
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@curiouskinetic &&. said... It's been a normal, rather uneventful (and frankly kind of boring) day, but one Sora was still content to spend with a friend. Life didn't have to be all big adventures after all, some quiet time hanging out and reading books was nice too. Though she'd finished her book earlier than expected, and found herself at a loss for what to do afterwards. Flopping down at Ren's side she let out a little huff, trying to decide whether or not she should just go to sleep. Until a scent caught her attention, and she found herself leaning towards him and giving him a little sniff. ".... hey, Ren? What's that other scent that's like... always on you?" Hm. That probably sounded a little odd. She should clarify. "Uhm, I mean, it's from a person I'm pretty sure-- someone you hang out with a lot?" Not that she had a burning need to know about all of his other friends, but she couldn't help being curious about one that seemed so important... if only judging by the fact their scent was constantly on him.
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he's  fully  preoccupied  with  his  own  book  —  to  such  a  degree  that  the  wanderer  doesn't  even  look  up  when  sora  flops  down  by  his  side.  perhaps  it  stands  as  subconscious  testament  to  what  extent  he  actually  trusts  her;  ren  is  oft  prone  to  erring  on  the  side  of  caution,  even  with  those  he's  known  for  quite  some  time.  it  takes  a  concerted  effort  to  win  even  the  barest  shreds  of  FAITH  —  for  though  his  understanding  of  the  BETRAYALS  that  have  haunted  him  for  so  many  years  has  changed,  force  of  habit  still  has  its  claws  sunk  deep  nonetheless.  it  makes  these  small  moments  of  contentment  all  the  more  precious,  if  only  for  their  rarity.  such  comfort  is  ordinarily  found  in  total  SOLITUDE,  when  he  isolates  himself  somewhere  far  too  deep  in  the  forests  of  sumeru  for  another  soul  to  find  him.
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❝  ...  huh?  ❞  predictably, he's  so  distracted  that  he  barely  notices  the  question.  paper  rustles  as  he  turns  the  page  —  only  for  the  wanderer  to  FREEZE  as  understanding  crashes  into  him  like  a  massive  wave.  once  again,  his  expressive  face  stabs  him  in  the  back;  a  myriad  of  emotions  flickering  across  delicate  countenance  at  speeds  nearly  too  fast  to  register.  confusion.  shock.  suspicion.  embarrassment.  the  last  one  is  particularly  NOTABLE,  for  ren  tends  to  carry  himself  as  if  he's  above  the  concept  of  SHAME  —  not  out  of  a  lack  of  self  respect,  but  rather  with  the  confidence  of  one  too  stubborn  to  spare  what  others  think  so  much  as  a  thought.  yet  now,  a  dusting  of  a  distinctly  rosy  hue  paints  his  cheekbones  and  he  stares  at  sora  with  eyes  gone  impossibly  wide.  he  has  a  sneaking  suspicion  he  knows  precisely  who  she's  referring  to;  there  is  only  one  person  who  ren  spends  so  much  time  around  —  and  in  fact,  actively  seeks  out  his  company  at  every  available  opportunity.
it's just a bit awkward to explain. ( his scent? )
❝  uh.  ❞   the  wanderer  turns  away,  pretending  to  fake  a  cough.  as  if  that  alone  is  somehow  enough  to  smooth  over  the  MORTIFYING  display.   ❝  that  person  is  probably ...  ❞  words  trail  off  just  as  quickly  as  they  begin.  he  drums  painted  nails  against  the  cover  of  his  long-forgotten  book,  trying  to  think  of  a  way  to  respond  as  succinctly  as  possible.  when  nothing  comes  to  mind,  lavender  gaze  flicks  to  his  hands.  nose  wrinkles  in  thought.  after  a  few  seconds  of  contemplation,  ren  merely  settles  for  raising  one  for  sora  to  see  —  purposefully  trying  to  draw  attention  to  the  ENGAGEMENT  RING  he  wears  upon  his  finger.  a  bit  messy,  but  with  his  tongue  evidently  taking  the  opportunity  to  rebel  against  him,  it  seems  like  the  most  painless  way  to  answer  her  question.
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topazshadowwolf · 2 years
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How Could This Be?
The Saga of the contest continues! Go vote! You can find the poll here.
Previous parts:
Win or Lose
Curiosity
And here is the poll on Twitter.
The Loss
Nightmare is starting to sweat. Fell in not winning in the landslide he was predicting. Will his dream of a negative emotion feast provided by Error be crushed? Is Dusty still annoyed he was woken up at 3 AM yesterday? Perhaps it is time to pay Underfell Sans a visit.
---
Nightmare stared at the poll as he had most of the day. How? How could this possibly be? It just didn't make sense. Even if this was a popularity contest, was Error truly that popular? No wonder Nightmare lost if behind the Glitch was this dedicated fan base.
Standing up, he went to the rooms of his henchmen. Each seemed rather displeased, especially Dust, who was rather reluctant to leave his bed, bemoaning that it was 6 in the morning and he just wanted to sleep. Eventually, they were all dressed and standing at attention… or most of the way. Horror yawned big, and his eye light was half gone as if lidded by a tired eye socket. Dust was literally sleeping, standing up; Nightmare was impressed by this odd talent.
"Alright, you four," He said after gently waking Dust. "It may be early in the morning for us, but in Underfell, the one we will be going to, it is 9 in the morning."
"oh! are we going to help fell win?" Cross asked brightly.
"i thought he was called red," Killer stated.
"pretty sure both works," Horror shrugged.
From the end of the row, Dust yawned, then shrugged, "let's just get this over with."
Between a portal and shortcuts, they soon found themselves in Underfell, standing before the skeleton brother's house. Nightmare stood patiently with Killer and Cross on his right-hand side and Dust and Horror on the left. Killer knocked on the door and then stepped back into position. A sharp and angry voice belonging to Underfell Papyrus hollered, "I SHALL BE RIGHT THERE!"
Ugh… what was that feeling… There was positivity seemingly oozing from the house. Well, it was possible that Underfell Sans was happy he made it to the finals. It was a bit touch and go there, apparently. He almost lost to Ink from what Nightmare heard. So, perhaps, holding his own against Error for so long could result in such… positivity.
The door soon opened, and Fell Papyrus looked out at the group. "Hello," Nightmare started, only for the Papyrus to sigh and turn around.
"SANS! IT IS MORE OF YOUR… CLONES," Fell Papyrus walked away from the door while leaving it open.
"I assure you, I am not a clone," Nightmare said with a smile, but it was clear the Papyrus wasn't listening.
"that's a paps for you!" Killer said with a bright grin.
The group looked at Nightmare, who shrugged before he walked into the house. "Thank you for letting us in."
"YOU ARE MOST UNWELCOME… I AM TRYING TO HELP MY BROTHER GET MOTIVATED TO WIN THAT CONTEST. NOW THAT HE HAS MADE IT AS FAR AS HE DID, I WILL NOT TOLERATE WATCHING HIM FAIL!" Papyrus said, folding his arms.
"How amusing that you bring that up," Nightmare said with a grin.
"that's what we're here for, too," Killer finished with a smile.
"GREAT, GET IN LINE," Papyrus grumbled while jerking a thumb towards the living room.
"Nightmare?" An all too familiar voice said. Nightmare stared straight ahead, not ready to look and confirm what he heard. Plus, he was caught up in the shock that he was here at all. But then, that would explain the positivity.
"whoa! dream and blue are here too?! no way," Killer laughed.
"guess you weren't the only one wanting to help fell," Cross grinned as Horror offered them a wave.
Finally, Nightmare turned his head and looked right at his brother. "Hello, Dream."
"I… thought you were helping Error," Dream said with a frown.
"Now, dear brother, why would you think that," And with that, Nightmare decided to take charge in this situation. He didn't want to get into a physical fight, but asserting his and his henchmen's authority in this situation is what he did want.
"Well, you two have worked together in the past, for starters. Then there are all the negative feelings everyone would feel when the Sans of Underfell loses," Dream then raised a brow bone in question. "Or perhaps you want to play both sides? That way, you win no matter what."
"he used a completely different name," Killer muttered.
"closer to nightmare's but still different," Cross sighed.
"To that first point, I had to. Do you think I really wanted to ally myself with that insane nitwit? What else was I supposed to do when you were shooting those blasted arrows at me and had the soulless wonder swinging that infernal paint all over." Nightmare replied, ignoring his henchmen. "No, I do not want to aid Error. I want to feast off of his negativity when he learns that the Sans he hates the most, the one he routinely steals from, throws his garbage in the house of-"
"YOU MEAN THAT'S NOT SANS LEAVING HIS TRASH ALL OVER?!" Fell Papyrus yelled.
"And the one he calls abomination 13 wins over him," Nightmare said with a dark grin.
"WOWIE! DO YOU HEAR THAT, CHERRY? YOU HAVE MORE ALLIES IN YOUR CORNER," Blue said to the Underfell Sans, who sat there looking very uncomfortable in this situation.
"that's… cherry?!" Killer said, throwing his hands up in the air.
Dust elbowed Horror, "quick, think of a name."
"tomato," Horror replied without skipping a beat.
"fangs," Dust then said, and the two high-fived.
"please, just get out of my house," Underfell Sans, Sans of Underfell, Fell, Red, Cherry, Tomato, Fangs, or however anyone wished to call him, groaned.
"no can do, fell," Killer said.
"dude, it was supposed to be a landslide. get your act together, red," Cross added.
"the multiverse needs you to win, tomato," Horror continued.
"fangs, listen, if error wins, he may choose to celebrate by destroying a bunch of aus. and whose do you think might be the first to go?" Dust asked. And Nightmare was convinced they each wanted a turn to speak just to use the name they had for Underfell Sans. Still, Dust had a point that could act as motivation.
"Why not the AU that was among the first to be made. Why would he not choose the AU that nearly every other AU has a version of," Nightmare said as he closed the gap between himself and Underfell Sans. "The destroyer has such visceral hate for all Fell AUs for a reason."
"So… we are working together on this, brother?" Dream asked, actually looking a bit happy.
"It appears so," Nightmare said, then grinned wickedly. "After all, I did win against you, did I not? I think he needs more winners in his corner, agreed?"
And the happy was replaced with annoyed, "really, Nightmare, you are going to be like that?"
"Just stating facts," Nightmare said before turning his attention back to Underfell Sans, who was looking between the two as if looking for a chance to flee. "You will win this, do you hear me. We are going to use Error's ignorance to this as an advantage."
"Ignorance? He knows about this," Dream replied, and Nightmare paused.
"He… does? But how?" Nightmare asked while turning back to his brother.
"THE UTMV INTERNET?" Blue replied, though, more as a question than an answer.
"But… how? He doesn't have any friends on the internet to communicate with," Nightmare pressed.
"That doesn't mean he doesn't have a social media presence," Dream sighed, pulled out his phone, tapped it a few times, and then held it out to show Nightmare. "See, he has a Twitter account."
"dude… did dream just do that without asking for help?" Cross asked Killer.
"hey, blueberry, does your boss wake you up at 3 in the morning to ask you simple computer questions?" Dust asked.
"Are you seriously still hung up on that?" Nightmare frowned.
"i don't think waking him up at 6 the next day helped his mood," Horror replied for Dust, as Dust shrugged.
"ENOUGH WITH THE CHATTERING! HOW IS THIS SUPPOSED TO HELP MY BROTHER WHEN HE JUST USED ONE OF THOSE INFERNAL SHORTCUTS TO ESCAPE YOUR INCESSANT BABBLING!" Underfell Papyrus bellowed.
They then all looked at the sofa and indeed, Fell was gone.
"Ah… A setback." Nightmare then turned and looked at his men. "Find him."
And with that, all four henchmen disappeared. Now, to discuss what Dream had in mind to help Underfell Sans.
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doodlevich · 2 years
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Scrabble King
Now you all know I love a good prompt, and I’ve been using this opt prompt generator to get some ideas! Here’s the results:
Prompt #1: Ian staying up half the night to finish a game with Mickey.
Word Count: 752
Rated: M
“Go to sleep, man. Your eyes are barely open.” Ian chuckles at his husband, who’s slouched back in his chair like a ragdoll, fighting the influence of slumber.
“Fuck off and fuck you…” Mickey grunts. “We’re finishing this damn game. ‘M gonna win.”
In front of them on the table is a second hand scrabble board that looks like it couldn’t possibly fit any more words. They’re down to their last few letters, and Mickey’s about 50 points away from taking home the win. Near impossible odds, especially considering how he’s been playing so far.
“We can finish tomorrow.” Ian sighs, rapidly blinking his dry eyes and willing them to focus. “C’mon, it’s like… 2 am.”
Mickey slams his fist down on the table suddenly, making the whole board jump a little and displacing some of the pieces. “Suck it up, princess. I got shit to prove.”
Ian rolls his eyes, carefully placing letters back into the correct alignment. He’s not sure what Mickey thinks he’s going to prove with four letters and no space on the board, but he also knows the man he married is about as stubborn as they come.
They’ve been playing for far longer than any scrabble tournament has a right to go on. Ian’s not sure when they started, but all he knows is that his ass muscles are cramping from sitting in the same position for too long. They’ve played 4 games, he thinks, maybe 5, and he’s managed to smoke Mickey by a mile in every one. He’s not even doing it on purpose any more- Mickey’s just historically bad at spelling and his vocabulary typically leaves something to be desired.
‘SHITSHOW’ isn’t a word Mick.
Um, yes it fucking is.
Yeah, I know it’s technically a word, but not according to Scrabble rules.
Who said we were following the rules, asshole?
Such conversations happened about every fifteen minutes during the course of the evening, but now that things have gotten down to the nitty gritty, Mickey isn’t arguing about words any more. He’s staring at his remaining letters like they’ll magically form a 50 point word if he gives them the stink eye hard enough. Ian ponders over the fact that Mickey most definitely has some level of dyslexia that never really got the attention it needed, and how he’s probably never going to mention it outloud, because he has a feeling it wouldn’t go over well.
Instead, he thinks a distraction might be in order.
“Mick,” Ian hums softly, leaning over to rub calming circles over Mickey’s lower back. “We can just go to bed and pretend this never happened. You win, you have bragging rights, okay? If anyone asks, you’re the reigning king of scrabble.”
Mickey side eyes him intensely, but doesn’t say no right away. Maybe it’s because Ian’s still rubbing and massaging, drifting lower until he can give Mickey’s ass a squeeze.
“That all?” Mickey asks, a smirk forming despite his exhaustion. “What else is in it for me?“
Ian pretends to think about it, even though he already knows the way to Mickey’s heart is through his dick. He slides his hand over top of his husband's thigh and runs his thumb teasingly over the seam of Mickey’s crotch.
“I’ll figure out a new and creative way to wake you up…” Ian promises.
Mickey attempts to hold back a shiver at Ian’s light touch.
“Fuck, how did I get so whipped? ” Mickey asks himself, rhetorically.
Ian grips Mickey’s inner thigh tightly. “Cuz I’m irresistible… and the big dick doesn’t exactly hurt my chances.” He jokes.
Mickey glares down at the board yet again, weighing his options, and then gives in, just as Ian had predicted. He shoots up from the chair with enough force to have it teetering and grabs Ian’s wrist, pulling him up as well.
“What if I can’t wait until the morning?” Mickey muses, a sultry look on his face as he steps backwards towards their bedroom with Ian in tow.
“I’m sure we can arrange something.” Ian chuckles.
Mickey stops outside the door and lets go of Ian’s wrist before invading his personal space. He wraps arms around Ian’s neck as their bodies collide, and Ian lets a little puff of air escape him at the unexpected impact.
“Gonna call me ‘Scrabble King’ while you fuck me?” Mickey asks, his lips curled into a demented grin.
“Demanding!” Ian tuts, squeezing his husband’s waist. “Guess I shouldn’t expect any less from the Scrabble King, huh?”
I hope you enjoyed! More to come, and I’ll eventually be posting a series on Ao3 when I get a few done! 😌
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fourleafclovxr · 1 year
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seerposting (aka saderposting)
i've always been so interested in the idea of seers in sge (if we've been mutuals for a while you would probably know). because the idea of someone being able to see how the story ends (which is like, a Big Thing for literal characters in that story, and also in soman's writing) also implies the possibility of them being able to manipulate that story. to go against what was set out by the story.
i mean, august sader's whole thing in tlea was... weird? like the man is soman's eternal deus ex machina but he has his limits. if i remember correctly, he told sophie & agatha that he Saw himself telling them their backstory (sister twist etc), but that he couldn't See any further than that, and that the story depended on their choice- which he couldn't predict. but the fact that he knew to tell them that at all (even after his death) means that he could also, theoretically, choose not to do it, right?
and that element of choice itself also implies that the future, the ending of the story, is a changeable thing. that you can influence it. and if even characters can do that, why not seers? who arguably are even better equipped with knowledge to do it?
in the school years, august sader acted as an enabler to the story. i think he also appeared in otk? it's been too long since i read the books :[ actually if he appeared in otk that makes things More Interesting because at that point they were in the middle of the man vs. pen conflict. fun! tells us more about how seers work! except i don't remember if that was a thing! but basically the whole idea of Sight was so integral to the series. and then soman didn't explain it at all. (thanks soman!) so what role do Seers really play in a story that's never fixed?
and for another thing, what do seers actually work for? to continue the story or do they have their own free will? like, august sader gave rafal that whole reader prophecy about sophie. did he know he was supposed to do that, or did he just want to? i remember theorising that he did it for his sister to enter the school, not sure if that was a book thing or a fanon thing.
because it resulted in a whole shitshow (ie the entire sge debacle because sophie was marked as Special from then on), which. if you think about it, just really served to bring good and evil back together, and stopped the trend of good winning. (for the school years at least. whatever. the camelot years were not storian-approved and therefore not as relevant to the idea of seers working for the story.) so did august sader set that in motion or did he know he Had to set that in motion?
+ the whole thing about seers aging ten years if they told anyone about the future. obviously that's kind of a rule against changing the future through influencing others. but what about their own action????? wouldn't it be an interesting thing to explore, being able to write your own story? maybe even control the storian, like japeth and his man vs pen conflict?
and doesn't that make seers somehow greater than good and evil? like, the man vs pen conflict basically disregards good and evil completely. logically japeth is evil but evil was also working against him (the coven), and i really don't think he fits into the categories of good and evil set out in the school years. i think he's something even more fucked up than that. something More Than The Story. hhh soman your camelot years had so much potential to explore that don't make me do it for you
+ sader's weird seer ancestor in rise of tsfgae. i forgot what he said. he existed ig. rise of tsfgae was not a very good book so i mostly ignored what happened
tl;dr: can seers in sge go against the future (the ending of the story) or can they act independently? wouldn't it be cool if they could act independently? Wouldn't It
i know this isn't what soman's books were about, and that this is an incredibly niche and odd idea, but. seers. (august sader)
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xiaoluclair · 1 year
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20 chalex. 😁😙
20. laughing into the kiss // [ rating: G ]
There is a strip of Hubba Bubba between Charles’s fingers that Alex knows isn’t his because Charles would take one look at Sweet & Sassy Cherry and say, how can a cherry be sassy?
Alex is about to nudge him under the table, make an unambiguous wiggle of his eyebrows that might perceive as a mating dance to ask where he got it. Only: “Wrap,” announces Jin right into his ears, pats Alex once on the shoulder. Cue the scrape of metal chairs on hard floor, Nirei’s nose wrinkling, a shout as Fred remembers the headphones on his head when the wire recoils him back to the monitor.
When Alex looks back, the Hubba Bubba is gone; Charles is chewing. Stops when Nyck bumps into his shoulder, starts talking to him and Alex can lip read: sector three, turning apex, almond chainsaw.
They’re all in the same car back to the hotel, two rooms stacked one atop the other. Alex does what he did yesterday and the day before: talks, laughs. Gives Nyck a noogie on the hard tusk of his skull. Steals Nirei’s phone to watch PIXAR Shorts with Charles’s chin hovering over his shoulder, cherry happiness in his ear.
They split in the elevator, Nyck and Nirei leaving Alex and Charles. In the few seconds it takes for the LEDs to change from six to seven, Alex has aquired a small, thumb–sized bruise on his elbow. Charles, ever oblivious, continues to pop a pale pink bubble around the bright of his tongue.
“I am thinking,” he says ponderingly as Alex unlocks their door with a tap of the keycard, slips it into his back pocket, “we should go to Old Zealand after I win.”
“All bark no bite,” replies Alex with a grin. “Also, Old Zealand? Mate, are you tripping?”
Charles, paused in front of him suitcase, glances over his shoulder for a moment. Meets Alex’s eyes with his mouth slightly shiny between his teeth before turning back around. “People always talk about New Zealand,” he says flippantly, pulling off his hoodie, polo in the odd way he does: head halfway out first, then pulling it the rest of the way from the bottom, horrendously endearing. “But no one ever says Old Zealand, and I think we should go.”
Alex, shrugging on his own sweats as the moles on Charles’s back are swallowed by a Tee, laughs. “Just to check, you want to go to Old Zealand because you’ve never heard a peep about it in your life?”
“Yes. I think it would be fun. There could be these, um.” His brow furrows, hand twists after dropping his clothes into a pile just to the side of his suitcase — where they are meant to be. Filip will have a fun time glaring them down tomorrow. “How do you say, old, like, rocks.”
Familiar with the situation, Alex giggles as he flops to his bed. “Fossils?”
Charles snaps his fingers. Brightens with it, eyes on Alex as he sits on the edge of the mattress by his knee, completely disregards the other bed in the room. To be fair, Alex isn’t exactly giving it much attention either. “Yes, fossils! We could find a dinosaur. You know people get famous because of dinosaur bones.”
Alex, grinning, offers, “What about ghosts? Haunted houses? Malicious spirits? There must be a reason folks don’t chat the place up, right?”
“There will not be ghosts,” waves off Charles, then hesitates, “will there?” and his bubble deflates timidly with it.
“There could be,” continues Alex, leg moving until his bone could dig into the flesh of Charles’s thigh where his black shorts have ridden up. “Big scary ghosts that really want to try French for dinner. Zoo animal ghosts.”
Charles sours, “I am not French,” but Alex is already grinning, shaking his head: predictable, easy. “I am Monegasque,” presses on Charles, but he is starting to smile now too, mouth slipping into it like the syrup sliding down Alex’s throat, “and there are not zoo animal ghosts in Old York, Alex.”
“There are!” says Alex. He is not sure when it begins, but suddenly his hands are half out and Charles is between them, pinching his giggles like thumbs round a candle wick. He tastes like: pink sugar, coarse sand, cotton candy.
Charles pulls away first, eyes wide. Mouth opens and out falls his wad of gum, right onto Alex’s chin, sticky with saliva, cold and wet down his neck. “Ew, ew,” says Alex, batting it off, half a shriek in his throat that comes out like a cackle. Charles scrambles for it, shoving it back into his mouth like a reflex. His fingers glisten with spit after, loud in the silence.
Alex starts to laugh. His eyes close with it, fizzy cola under his ribs. Charles is the black in the red of his blood, heat under his hands, and soon, he starts to shake too until they’re both silly with it. His arms must hurt, couldn’t not. But when Alex blinks open again he’s still there, head hung against Alex’s neck, limbs out and bent, slightly awkward around his body.
Alex taps him on the hip. “Come on,” he says, goads, “When I win the championship—” Charles snorts against his nose, “you can come to Old Zealand with me. Just in case they like super sexy British–Thai food and I need a guardian.”
“Keep dreaming, Albon,” says Charles, and he laughs again, hardly stopped. Alex leans up into him, is tugged maybe. He tastes like: pink sugar, coarse sand, cotton candy. He tastes like: joy.
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ct-multifandom · 2 years
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Destruction Things
Finally, episode three, after all these years! We have the next few to look forward to in the next couple weeks, and up to ep 8 through November as of rn
The wacky timeline sequence of events was kinda fun, but I feel like it’ll confuse kids
How many more insanely complex machinations has Marinette had up her sleeve this whole time?
The biggest surprise about this episode for me was how casually Ladybug told Philipe to say “kwami” for the camera and how when monarch showed up with all of them he wasn’t even surprised by them. I was under the impression that the very existence of the kwamis was a huge secret only holders knew? But I guess they’re public knowledge now and it’s not even remotely a big deal?
I wonder if Veronique’s involvement with the plan leads to her being targeted in episode 6 or if it’s unrelated
Genuinely impressed by Chat’s ability to hold that pose so stilly. I woulda sneezed
Sabine looking cute in her new jammies
Tom’s speech reminded me of the classmates doing things to help LB and CN in the last episode. Is this a continuation of the same idea? It’s nice to see that Tom isn’t losing stamina
The kids keep talking about how they’re gonna go get juice together, but I think this is the first time we’ve actually seen them drinking this juice. Juice bar new location when? This is like their avengers shawarma
They should’ve made an episode 3.5 where we watch Marinette, Alya, and Adrien go to bed and get some rest
Check in next week for the episode where Alya takes Monarch to small claims court over her broken phone and wins
How are they gonna resolve that one? Surely they won’t just give her a new one like it’s nothing. And she was so unbothered but it breaking. Any modern kid, much less a big deal blogger, would be way more upset
Edit: I predict that later or at the end of this season they’ll find the lucky charm rope and we’ll see the craziest Miraculous Ladybug ever that’ll undo all of Gabriel’s property damage, fix the miraculous, and heal the magic gangrene disease
When those pictures of exhausted Marinette with the kwamis leaked I got hopeful that she’d get them back in some later episode but no. *sob*
The deyassification of the miracle box
Guys, check your kids’ Halloween candy. I found the dragon miraculous in a sour cherry fun dip
Me leaving Agreste Mansion with 15 kwamis up my ass
He doesn’t even need them! As long as he has the miraculous, he can summon them whenever, so just let them go! Baby Ziggy wants to go home and Barkk wants to be with Marinette
Unrelated but predicting that the goat de-transformation phrase is “Ziggy are you ok”
Thinking about how after they get them back they’ll probably be given to permanent holders pretty soon after and won’t get to live with Marinette for much more time anyways
I realllly hope we see at least one of them using their power without a holder, preferably a new one. Is anything stopping them other than the consequences? If it was an emergency they’d totally do it. Sass stopped Xuppu in Truth, but I wanna see that fever dream world. I think Ziggy would be fun, too. Imagine it raining random objects.
Xuppu’s incessant non-sequitur rambling, I love him
Orikko should represent the concept of Confusion
“So you’re useless!” “You can’t talk to me like that!” “Look, you’ve offended him” was so cute. This is the most he’s ever spoken and we’re finally getting some actual characterization!
(I need this for Stompp ^)
I hope nobody getting how his power works is a running gag so they can keep explaining it because I still have many questions:
So he can’t interfere with another kwami’s power… I’m guessing this’ll come up so that Monarch’s villains can’t insta-counter hero powers and so that the heroes won’t be able to instantly de-akumatize anyone in the future. I wonder if there are creative loopholes around this
He can’t replicate another kwami’s power. Which is odd because Rooster Bold multiplied the lucky charm in strike back even though multiplication is already Mullo’s power
Those old bad comics introduced lore that every concept in the universe has its own kwami, but many don’t have miraculous. Is that canon? And there are plenty of canon jewels outside of Paris whose powers we don’t know. How does all this factor in?
Is it like how lucky charm and genesis are two different things despite both making objects and voyage and burrow are two different things despite both opening portals? Can it be inherently similar and have a slight difference?
The meaning of Xuppu’s Santa rant was that you can’t go “skidaddle skidoodle Monarch is defeated” but have to give yourself a specific ability that you’d use to try and defeat Monarch with. But that’s still vague. You can give yourself a super specific ability, such as the ability to fly a plane with zero experience or shoot laser eyes. Can you give yourself the power to mind-read someone’s greatest weakness or divine the location of something?
Does it have genie rules? Like no using your power to give yourself more powers, no necromancy, no insta-murder, no love magic?
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septemberrie · 2 years
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someone asked me to do a Rivusa breakdown from the S2 teaser! I’m not on Twitter so I’m not up on the latest spiraling but I do have some thoughts, first of all WE ARE WINNING (still have to pinch myself this happened)
Okay first shot is the production shot. Just admiring the new armor this season because it seems way more appropriate than the cozy cableknit sweaters + leather chest strap of Season 1. I’m not an armor expert but it seems to have a good combination of strength + flexibility to allow movement. Plus, it looks sexy. 
((what I’m saying is... Andreas & Rosalind had 16 years to think about fashion and it shows 😌))
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Okay now there’s Fighting Scene #1 (sorry for the shitty quality gifs)
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Alright so after studying this, I’ve come to the conclusion:
Riven is not fighting Musa. Musa is not fighting Riven. They are each fighting other people. You can see the girl Riven is fighting has longer hair and is not wearing orange; the boy Musa is fighting has closer-cropped hair than Riven.
Why are they all fighting each other? There’s some suspicion that all the clips in the teaser are from episodes 1 or 2 (so they don’t spoil major plot points) but... a student-on-student battle this early on? Also I doubt Musa’s gotten this good within 1-2 episodes, so maybe this is from a much later episode.
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Then we get to the scene. The Scene. The. Scene.
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I think this has been dissected enough but just some points:
It took me like 5 watches to realize he steals the staff from her 😅 my bad I was literally having palpitations while this was happening and someone in the room was screaming (dunno who though)
Obviously she’s still using a staff because he had such a big impact on her in their 40 seconds of interaction last year  😌  
I don’t love that second swipe she takes at him, it looks angry and awkward. I’m sure part of that is the BTS angle and it’ll look way better in the actual show
Is this a trainee outfit? WHAT is with that purple bra thing and why can’t she wear the same sexy black as Riven. Is this like martial arts where you get red to start, progress to orange when you’re better, and then get awarded the black belt? Can we see Riven in this skin-tight jumpsuit too?
Only upside: she’s definitely a walking red flag now isn’t she Riven.
HIS SMIRK when he does the little love tap 😌 the boy is in. love. your honor and you know he’s thinking about when he can do it again... elsewhere
At first I thought they were the only ones on the pitch, but in the beginning of the clip you can see 3-4 other Specialists jogging by (and none of them are wearing red with a purple bra...) and a few behind Musa using the training equipment. Still, it’s odd how deserted the pitch is, no Andreas or Rosalind in sight. Perhaps this is extra training time that Musa has requested 👀 just like we predicted in so many amazing fics.
IN CONCLUSION, I’M FUCKING EXCITED 
Personally I would prefer Rivusa get closer in s2 and then get together in s3; I feel like 7-8 episodes won’t be enough, with this ensemble cast, to givet hem the right room to develop. BUT that’s also assuming we get a s3 which I know nothing is a given.
Anyway!!! Thanks for reading! Did I miss anything? Hit me up!!
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hoursofreading · 8 months
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Every Rosh Hashana, we imagine that God opens up God’s ledger, and writes down and revises our good deeds and misdeeds, taking note of our spiritual assets and liabilities, as it were. We further imagine that by the end of Yom Kippur God closes the books and seals us in—at this point the ledger can’t be changed. I’d like to offer a new interpretation of this imagery. What is this book of life, after all?
Imagine God is a bookie and the angels sports betters. Every year the angels congregate in heaven to place their bets. Will Zohar have a good year this year? Will his character improve? Will he be a net giver to society? How much value will he generate for others? Will he succeed in realizing his purpose? Some angels take the thesis for, others against. There’s a spread between those angels long Zohar and thsoe angels short Zohar. A price equilibrium is reached and God records the bets. Then by Yom Kippur the book value of Zohar is sealed. In a year, the angels will check their portfolios and decide if it was a good year. Some angels think my odds of success are a coin flip, others more like three heads in a row. Some think I’m a slam dunk. This is all based on track record and historical performance, plus general trend analysis—how is humanity as a whole doing this year? Are they a good asset to hold? The book of life marks a record not of our deeds, but of our projected value based upon metrics like top-line and bottom-line growth, margins, defensibility, etc. (We are speaking metaphorically, of course).
What do the angels miss in their fundamental analysis? In a word, optionality. They operate on the assumption that past performance indicates future performance, but fail to appreciate “convexity,” the idea that in a given moment a person can become an outlier. They don’t see outliers, they only see the average. Angels see probabilities within an average distribution, but their minds can’t grasp tail events—neither tail risk nor tail opportunity. The human word that captures what the angels miss is Teshuva. We know that the main thing that distinguishes man from angel is free will, agency, bechira. This is the principle of life. We can’t dismiss a human life, even one that is down and out because there is always the principle of hope—unappreciated by the angels—of a radical turn. Life itself is optionality. Life itself, with the capacity for teshuva, holds out the possibility of an outlier, an outlier act of heroism or courage, an outlier epiphany or breakthrough, an outlier act of creativity or reproduction.
Angels assume linear growth; teshuva suggests exponential growth. The reverse is also true, without deep introspection, we are a hair’s breath away from collapse. Self-sabotage is more of a risk than we think, especially when we think we’re doing well and trending up.
I’d like to offer a new interpretation of the phrase “Zachreinu l’chaim,” “Remember us for life,” inspired by the Pele Yoetz. To be remembered for life means that we remember the principle of life in ourselves and others—that we hold open the deep hope that life itself is an incredible call option, that free will exists, if only as a possibility. Sure, most of the time we are predictable. Most of the time we are average. Most of the time, the algorithm knows what we’ll buy. But such analysis is shallow. For you only need to be right every so often to win big, and that is the difference between the judgment of God and the judgment of angels.
Judgment is scary for the angels, but not for God. The angels tremble at God’s judgment, but God’s judgment is sweet, for it is mixed with the mercy that knows that as long as we live we have an uncapped upside.
The real question is not what does God write in the book, but what will we do to prove the angels’ bets wrong? What will we do to ensure that when God opens up the book of life next Rosh Hashana, the angels must acknowledge that their models failed to integrate our hidden potential. The purpose of the book of life is to give us a chance to bet on ourselves, to take the other side of the trade against our naysayers, and to make use of our information asymmetry: our own freedom.
Jewish law permits the sacrifice of life in only a few exceptional instances. Mainly, we are enjoined to choose life (“v’chai bahem”) rather than die following the commandments. Now we know why. So long as we survive to live another day we have an opportunity to serve God and create unprecedented value. May we be remembered for this “life.” L’chaim.
Zohar Atkins
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Ever-Changing Disney & Pixar Slates From 2008 to about 2016...
I'll have this here for reference as well...
Preface: DreamWorks' next film is something we know next to nothing about, and the only films on their slate are a TROLLS threequel and KUNG FU PANDA 4. A movie called MEET THE GILLMANS, per a few reports and other clues, is supposed to open before TROLLS BAND TOGETHER does... The rest of DreamWorks' slate is sparse, despite the studio reportedly having a big plan in place... So why the skittishness to say what's coming out?
I think I know why...
Anything can happen with an animated movie... Even if it's *this* close to completion. The animated adaptation of Nate Stevenson's NIMONA got shut down - alongside the studio it was being made at, Blue Sky - in February 2021 despite being 75% complete, but luckily it was revived at another studio (Annapurna) and will be completed and released this year. Henry Selick's THE SHADOW KING was maybe halfway done when Disney pulled the plug on it in mid-2012. DreamWorks halted in-production movies like ME AND MY SHADOW (shadows have bad luck in animation picture business, don't they?) and LARRIKINS. Disney threw out a 2D/CG picture with a lot of working titles, one of which was A FEW GOOD GHOSTS, despite the amount of work done on it.
The list is even longer, so I wanted to re-chronicle a weird history of Walt Disney Animation Studios and Pixar on here... In an age where long-term slates being laid down is commonplace.
We'll start at April of 2008...
I remember seeing this slate back in the day and thinking, "Wow, this is massive." This predated Marvel releasing gargantuan half-decade plans for interconnected movies... This was a long-term plan spanning four years from both Walt Disney Animation Studios and Pixar. This was a little after The Walt Disney Company's historic acquisition of Pixar in early 2006, and the subsequent installation of Pixar stalwarts John Lasseter and Ed Catmull as heads of a revitalized WDAS. Perhaps after the release of MEET THE ROBINSONS and RATATOUILLE in 2007, there was a newfound confidence in both studios.
WDAS had gone through a rough period in the early 2000s, where films either lost money due to various circumstances (THE EMPEROR'S NEW GROOVE) or didn't get great critical reception (BROTHER BEAR)... Sometimes both. (ATLANTIS: THE LOST EMPIRE, HOME ON THE RANGE) MEET THE ROBINSONS got mixed-to-positive reception at best, and did flop at the box office. The film had cost around $100m to make, and failed to double that worldwide. It was indeed dumped by the marketing department and heads, for it was perceived as more of a band-aid ripping than the first in a line of new-fangled WDAS movies sure to win back the critical acclaim and box office glory they once possessed in the early '90s. No, that distinction would go to BOLT, as it's often pointed to as the first of the "Revival" features, or at least the first of the Lasseter/Catmull pictures.
Anyways, that same year, RATATOUILLE became another Pixar blockbuster and seemed to prove that that Emeryville studio really could do no wrong. People doubted many of their films, each new Pixar movie seemed like their first flop. Michael Eisner infamously predicted FINDING NEMO would be a flop when he had seen a rough cut of the film around a year before its eventual release and subsequent record-breaking run at the box office. By the time you got to RATATOUILLE, people jeered that this movie starring a rat (gross! disgusting!) that wants to cook would be their first dud... But it wasn't, it defied the odds and it took home the Oscar on top of that.
So you could imagine that Disney was quite confident in their animation slate going forward, from both Pixar and WDAS... And so, they laid out a slate, in addition to the films already on the release boards... (Pixar highlighted in blue, WDAS in green)
WALL-E - 6/27/2008
BOLT - 11/26/2008
UP - 5/29/2009
THE PRINCESS AND THE FROG - Christmas 2009
TOY STORY 3 - 6/18/2010
RAPUNZEL - Christmas 2010
NEWT - Summer 2011
THE BEAR AND THE BOW - Christmas 2011
CARS 2 - Summer 2012
KING OF THE ELVES - Christmas 2012
Wow... Back in 2008, that seemed like *a lot* of movies... And Pixar releasing *two films* in a calendar year? What is this sorcery??
For anyone not entirely in the loop here, THE BEAR AND THE BOW is the movie that eventually got re-named to BRAVE. KING OF THE ELVES was to be an adaptation of the Phillip K. Dick story, from BROTHER BEAR directors Aaron Blaise and the late Robert Walker.
Now, a slight adjustment was made to this slate by fall of 2008... CARS 2 had curiously traded places with NEWT, and was now opening a year earlier than expected.
Some time passes by, by mid-2009, THE BEAR AND THE BOW is now BRAVE...
A new project based on Winnie the Pooh fires up. The company has a very short-lived desire to do a full-on reboot of the franchise and get it up to speed, as it had been kinda lost in Pooh Corner for quite some time. Pigeonholed as a preschooler property more so than something to be enjoyed by the whole family... This very brief push for a brand new Winnie the Pooh results in a hand-drawn animated feature, landed in the lap of Disney Animation. It is hastily greenlit and fast-tracked for a 2011 release. WDAS now has a movie to release that year.
Then we get to the end of 2009... THE PRINCESS AND THE FROG is not the blockbuster it should've been. The first hand-drawn feature from the studio since 2004, this performance causes a very weird blowback to fairy tales within the company, in an era where they were very concerned about one single demographic... The 6-to-12 year-old boy. Keep in mind, this is the year Disney launched the channel Disney XD (replacing Toon Disney), a channel tailored to that group. Marvel was also purchased that year, too, meaning Disney-released Marvel Cinematic Universe movies that would appeal to those. Their verdict was that the movie having "Princess" in the title was what killed it, as it scared away that boy audience... Though if you ask me, PRINCESS AND THE FROG had far more outside problems going on that affected the movie than some random little Timmy not wanting to see a "girly movie".
So now, by early 2010, the mandate was... No more fairy tales, those are passe. And 2D was pretty much not coming back, either. WINNIE THE POOH was in production, yes, but it was dead on arrival. An adaptation of THE SNOW QUEEN was... Forgive the pun, *on ice*...
However, there was one movie that stood in the way... It was the next movie, too... RAPUNZEL... The movie was hastily re-titled to TANGLED, in an attempt to make it seem less "girly". I love that movie, but I always hated that title... But it's the one they went with for the domestic and UK releases. Many countries retained the RAPUNZEL title, albeit in other languages. (For example, in French, it's RAIPONCE.) TANGLED couldn't be cancelled, it was far too deep into production to have that happen to it... It was still on track for Thanksgiving of 2010. Elsewhere in the "Hat Building", KING OF THE ELVES is but dead, with Blaise and Walker having moved on to other things. WINNIE THE POOH was moved to the day the final HARRY POTTER movie was supposed to open, instead of a much more ideal early spring slot. (It was an April release in the UK and much of Europe.) Conspicuously, Pixar does not pull the plug on BRAVE, which itself is a fairy tale-inspired fantasy story with a princess in it...
Now around this time, a project called REBOOT RALPH was starting to make the rounds, and eventually it secured a release date of March 22, 2013. Why not fall 2012, where KING OF THE ELVES used to be? Well, that's because Pixar - out of nowhere - had announced that a MONSTERS, INC. 2 was in the works for a fall 2012 release... And that NEWT was outright cancelled, leaving the summer of 2012 to BRAVE. By the time TOY STORY 3 came to theaters, the slate now looked like this...
TANGLED - 11/24/2010
CARS 2 - 6/24/2011
WINNIE THE POOH - 7/15/2011
BRAVE - 6/22/2012
MONSTERS, INC. 2 - 11/2/2012 (or possibly the 16th)
REBOOT RALPH - 3/22/2013
We can see the "two Pixars a year, WDAS settles for the year after" pattern starting to take shape here...
Now we get to early 2011... MONSTERS, INC. 2 turns out to be a prequel titled MONSTERS UNIVERSITY, and REBOOT RALPH is retitled to WRECK-IT RALPH... RALPH is now a fall 2012 release, and MONSTERS U moves to summer 2013. No "two Pixars" in 2012...
TANGLED does well at the box office, proving that fairy tales aren't passe at all. At Disney Animation, THE SNOW QUEEN is put back in development, and according to the defunct insider blog Blue Sky Disney, it was put in a "production race" of sorts with KING OF THE ELVES, now under BOLT director Chris Williams. Both are competing to be the next WDAS film after the release of WRECK-IT RALPH because right around that time? There wasn't anything really else on the horizon that was in shape to go forward... Early work was being done on what would eventually become BIG HERO 6, pitches for movies that later became ZOOTOPIA and MOANA were just taking shape around this time. So it was either SNOW QUEEN or ELVES...
In August, at the inaugural D23 fan expo, Pixar announces two original movies with no titles... They are announced as THE UNTITLED PIXAR MOVIE ABOUT DINOSAURS and THE UNTITLED PIXAR MOVIE THAT TAKES YOU INSIDE THE MIND...
They are later slated for 11/27/2013 and 5/30/2014 respectively...
That is, until THE SNOW QUEEN - now baring the TANGLED-esque adjective title FROZEN - took the dinosaur movie's slot... So by the end of 2011, things looked a bit like this...
BRAVE - 6/22/2012
WRECK-IT RALPH - 11/2/2012
MONSTERS UNIVERSITY - 6/21/2013
FROZEN - 11/27/2013
UNTITLED PIXAR MOVIE ABOUT DINOSAURS - TBD
UNTITLED PIXAR / INSIDE THE MIND - TBD
Come CinemaCon, April 2012, things are cleared up about the dinosaur and mind movies... They have titles, aaaaand release dates...
BRAVE - 6/22/2012
WRECK-IT RALPH - 11/2/2012
MONSTERS UNIVERSITY - 6/21/2013
FROZEN - 11/27/2013
THE GOOD DINOSAUR - 5/30/2014
INSIDE OUT - 6/19/2015
Later in the year, two adjustments are made to this slate...
BRAVE - 6/22/2012
WRECK-IT RALPH - 11/2/2012
MONSTERS UNIVERSITY - 6/21/2013
FROZEN - 11/27/2013
THE GOOD DINOSAUR - 5/30/2014
UNTITLED DISNEY ANIMATION - 11/7/2014
INSIDE OUT - 6/19/2015
UNTITLED PIXAR - 11/25/2015
Once again, Pixar trying to have two a year...
In April 2013, a FINDING NEMO sequel called FINDING DORY is officially confirmed to exist, and it takes the Thanksgiving 2015 slot... Also right around this time, Disney Animation confirms that their Marvel comic adaptation BIG HERO 6 is on the boards for fall 2014...
May 2013 is where things get big... This, I believe, is in response to how well WRECK-IT RALPH does for Disney Animation. The film manages to be the studio's second big hit after TANGLED, and that they were in good standing. With that, many more dates were locked for WDAS films in addition to Pixar films...
MONSTERS UNIVERSITY - 6/21/2013
FROZEN - 11/27/2013
THE GOOD DINOSAUR - 5/30/2014
BIG HERO 6 - 11/7/2014
INSIDE OUT - 6/19/2015
FINDING DORY - 11/25/2015
UNTITLED DISNEY ANIMATION - 3/4/2016
UNTITLED PIXAR - 6/17/2016
UNTITLED DISNEY ANIMATION - 11/23/2016
UNTITLED PIXAR - 6/16/2017
UNTITLED PIXAR - 11/22/2017
UNTITLED DISNEY ANIMATION - 3/9/2018
UNTITLED PIXAR - 6/15/2018
UNTITLED DISNEY ANIMATION - 11/21/2018
Talk about "eatin' good"... That was *five* whole years of new animated features to look forward to, and only folks who were in the trenches knew what was possibly coming out on those dates...
The next D23 Expo takes place, where ZOOTOPIA is revealed to the public for the first time. Later, Disney confirms that it'll be WDAS' March 2016 release. However, a little after an odd presentation... It is revealed that Pixar's THE GOOD DINOSAUR has hit a snag... The director was removed, and a month later, Pixar up and delayed the movie. THE GOOD DINOSAUR migrated to Thanksgiving 2015, kicking FINDING DORY to summer 2016... 2014 is the first year to be without a Pixar feature since 2005...
FROZEN - 11/27/2013
BIG HERO 6 - 11/7/2014
INSIDE OUT - 6/19/2015
THE GOOD DINOSAUR - 11/25/2015
ZOOTOPIA - 3/4/2016
FINDING DORY - 6/17/2016
UNTITLED DISNEY ANIMATION - 11/23/2016
UNTITLED PIXAR - 6/16/2017
UNTITLED PIXAR - 11/22/2017
UNTITLED DISNEY ANIMATION - 3/9/2018
UNTITLED PIXAR - 6/15/2018
UNTITLED DISNEY ANIMATION - 11/21/2018
All is quiet for a little while... FROZEN erupts into a blockbuster phenomenon, but Disney remains mum on what's on the horizon beyond the spring 2016 release of ZOOTOPIA. Wisely so.
During an investor's call in March, CARS 3 and INCREDIBLES 2 are confirmed to exist, but are not given release dates.
In October, during another investor's call, TOY STORY 4 is revealed and has a release date: June 16, 2017.
On the Disney Animation front that same month, MOANA is confirmed to be the studio's fall 2016 release.
BIG HERO 6 - 11/7/2014
INSIDE OUT - 6/19/2015
THE GOOD DINOSAUR - 11/25/2015
ZOOTOPIA - 3/4/2016
FINDING DORY - 6/17/2016
MOANA - 11/23/2016
TOY STORY 4 - 6/16/2017
UNTITLED PIXAR - 11/22/2017
UNTITLED DISNEY ANIMATION - 3/9/2018
UNTITLED PIXAR - 6/15/2018
UNTITLED DISNEY ANIMATION - 11/21/2018
2015 means a new D23 Expo, and possibly a lot more information on what's coming from both studios...
But first, in March of 2015, Disney announces FROZEN II is happening. No date is set or implied.
At D23, COCO is revealed to be the Pixar's fall 2017 release. GIGANTIC, from Disney Animation, is announced but no release date is given. It is implied to be a spring 2018 release.
Then shortly thereafter, The Walt Disney Company announces a massive film slate encompassing all pictures - animated and live-action, Marvel and Lucasfilm...
CARS 3 is dated, taking TOY STORY 4's 6/16/2017 slot, TOY STORY 4 takes 6/15/2018. INCREDIBLES 2 is dated 6/21/2019, a WDAS film is slated for 11/27/2019... GIGANTIC is confirmed for spring 2018. Three 2020 animation releases are added, too. Wow! Two Pixars, one for 3/13/2020 and the other for 6/19/2020, and one WDAS, 11/25/2020...
THE GOOD DINOSAUR - 11/25/2015
ZOOTOPIA - 3/4/2016
FINDING DORY - 6/17/2016
MOANA - 11/23/2016
CARS 3 - 6/16/2017
COCO - 11/22/2017
GIGANTIC - 3/9/2018
TOY STORY 4 - 6/15/2018
UNTITLED DISNEY ANIMATION - 11/21/2018
INCREDIBLES 2 - 6/21/2019
UNTITLED DISNEY ANIMATION - 11/27/2019
UNTITLED PIXAR - 3/13/2020
UNTITLED PIXAR - 6/19/2020
UNTITLED DISNEY ANIMATION - 11/25/2020
2016 comes about with a few updates...
A WRECK-IT RALPH sequel is confirmed to exist, and is slated for 3/9/2018. It pushes GIGANTIC to fall 2018.
TOY STORY 4 and INCREDIBLES 2 trade places...
By fall 2016, things are looking like this...
MOANA - 11/23/2016
CARS 3 - 6/16/2017
COCO - 11/22/2017
WRECK-IT RALPH 2 - 3/9/2018
INCREDIBLES 2 - 6/15/2018
GIGANTIC - 11/21/2018
TOY STORY 4 - 6/21/2019
UNTITLED DISNEY ANIMATION - 11/27/2019
UNTITLED PIXAR - 3/13/2020
UNTITLED PIXAR - 6/19/2020
UNTITLED DISNEY ANIMATION - 11/25/2020
One last development I'll bring up is the cancellation of GIGANTIC in fall 2017, leaving March 2018 vacant. WRECK-IT RALPH sequel, titled RALPH BREAKS THE INTERNET: WRECK-IT RALPH 2 (the subtitle was removed right before its release), takes the fall 2018 slot.
Other than that, very little changed... The slate played out the way it was supposed to. INCREDIBLES 2 came out summer 2018, with RALPH 2 following in the fall. TOY STORY 4 was summer 2019, FROZEN II was fall 2019. ONWARD was spring 2020, but due to the COVID-19 pandemic, some adjustments were made to the slate... But it otherwise resembles what it looked like circa late 2017. SOUL went from summer 2020 Pixar release to Christmas Day streaming release. Fall 2020 WDAS title RAYA AND THE LAST DRAGON had to move to March 2021 because of that, but then the slate remained the same... Pixar's LUCA was a summer 2021 release, with WDAS' ENCANTO following in the fall. 2022, this past year, two Pixars as planned: TURNING RED in the spring, LIGHTYEAR in the summer, and one WDAS in the fall, that was STRANGE WORLD.
Their slate now?
ELEMENTAL - 6/16/2023
WISH - 11/22/2023
ELIO - 3/1/2024
INSIDE OUT 2 - 6/14/2024
Only covers this year and next year... One WDAS movie, three Pixars... And a ton of Marvel movies laid out til 2026 and AVATAR sequels into 2028... Disney's taking it easy with announcing what's on the horizon with animation... DreamWorks is doing the same... Heck, Universal's animation slate alone goes up to about mid-2024 with Illumination's DESPICABLE ME 4. A Swiss Universal slate document has various animated films slated for fall 2025 and fall 2026, but no word on those dates here in the states...
Maybe there is a reason they, and specifically Disney, don't announce long-term slates anymore... NEWT and GIGANTIC alone tell one why...
Maybe next time, I'll do DreamWorks, though that's a major-league cluster-cuss of its own. Till next time, fellas!
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