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barbiewritesstuff · 2 years

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Church Encounters: Chapter 3

-- This is the third installment of the collaborative fic @Igg5989 and I are working on. You can find it on her tumblr and on her Ao3 account :)

Taglist: @acarboni21 @unsurebuttrying @dempy @peaches-1998 --

Previous part

You had been worried he might not have liked you after all, or maybe just as a friend. Your memory of the date becoming more distorted by the hour and by the end of the next Tuesday you were convinced he hated you. You were proven wrong rather quickly though, when Jake sat with you the next Sunday, and all three Sundays after that. He kissed your cheek when he said “Peace be with you” and held your hand right through “Our father” before dropping you off at home with a tummy full of pancakes and a delicate kiss on the cheek.

At work, it was the same as it had always been. You bantered as much as you usually did and nobody suspected a thing. You were grateful for it too, you had been allowed to meet a new Jake every Sunday for a month, and the more time you spent in his presence, the more possessive you grew over him. If anybody else knew, Church Jake might disappear. Or worse, you might have to share.

Still, there were things you both had forgotten to cover up. Halo had spotted the shirt Jake had allowed you to borrow on your first date in your wash basket one night after a movie but she had missed the bright yellow letters saying ‘J. SERESIN’ underneath the church symbol. She had even barely missed your phone lighting up with a text from Jake a fair few times.

On the Monday after your third date, Coyote noticed Jake had brought in the wrong flight manual to a mission training course, but as observant as he prided himself on being, he seemed to have missed your neat handwriting on the first page saying your name.

And yet, something had been noticed. Fanboy had caught Jake walking out of an apartment building on a Sunday afternoon.

“I had a date,” Jake said bluntly, pulling off his sweaty t-shirt and grabbing a fresh one from his locker.

Coyote snorted, “At 11 in the morning? Fat chance.”

Jake grinded his teeth together, they were being infuriating, “Yes, leave me alone”

“Nuh uh. Number one, Hangman doesn’t do dates. Number two, what the fuck is there to do at 11 in the morning,” Payback added to the conversation.

The teasing had been relentless. Jake had hoped it would die down, but once the boys convinced themselves the only reason Hangman could possibly have been seen sauntering out of an apartment at that time, was that Jake had spent the night with someone, he could feel the hot wave of rage washing over his body and clouding his judgement.

“Cut it out,” he said, trying to steady his voice into speaking with a warning tone.

“So how was she? You don’t seem to have any scratches…” Coyote said, playing like he was looking Jake over, “Not even a hickey… Dude, have you lost your touch?” Coyote laughed. Jake quickly glanced at the wall, trying to assess the likelihood of you hearing them speak through the tiles.

“I will kill you if you don’t drop this,” he practically growled through gritted teeth

“Ooh touchy,” Coyote teased, “Did she not put out?”

Jake’s brain worked slower than his hands. Before he realised what he was doing, his fist had flown through the air and connected with Coyote’s abs. The other man crumpled to the floor with a loud ‘THUD’, that resonated through the wall and into the women’s locker room. It was loud enough to catch your attention and cease all conversation between Phoenix and Halo allowing the rest of the argument to be heard through the wall.

“I told you to cut it out,” he said, he was so mad that his Texas accent was showing, “She ain’t like that and I won’t have you insinuating things. She’s a nice girl.”

“Shit, Seresin, are you going soft on us?” Rooster asked, watching the look on Jake’s face go from anger to shock as he realised he had punched his best friend.

Jake rounded on him, putting his finger in Bradley’s face, “I will rip that trash stache straight off of your face Bradshaw, make no mistake.”

“Do you have anything to say?” he asked the other men, but none rose to the challenge and he set about getting dressed. A tension headache was starting to wake up in his temple as he marched onto the carrier. Their mission only started the following afternoon, which was lucky, as Jake had always had trouble with long lasting headaches and he knew an aspirin wouldn’t put this one to sleep.

He made his way straight to his bunk, eager to escape the whispers and mumbles about the locker room fight, which Coyote regaled just about anyone with. The worst bit of it all had been seeing your face as you exited the women’s locker room, worry etched over every inch of your perfect features and entirely unable to say or do anything to take it away.

Trying to escape the situation, Jake tried to nap. He did his level best to make the room as dark as possible. The pain was making it hard to get comfortable and he tossed and turned until someone knocked on the door of his cabin.

“Jake?” Your voice whispered into the darkness, he groaned in response, “Did you get hurt?”

He let out a soft sigh, it was nice to have someone worry over him for once, “Headache, nothing to worry about, I get them sometimes.”

“I have pain medication, if you need some,” your voice said through the door.

“I’m fine, I just need a nap. I can’t get comfy, though, the pillow isn’t high enough,” he grunted out in a strained whisper.

You entered the room as he leaned over to the cabin’s cramped desk and switched on the lamp. It drowned the room in a flickering yellow light that should have looked unflattering on Jake but only served to make his naked torso look golden. He looked like a dream. You felt a little bad about staring, especially since the pain in his head was apparently bad enough to have covered his abs in cold sweat, but you were ashamed to say it only made him look better. You looked away rapidly, suddenly uncertain. It felt as though you had looked at something forbidden, like Eve and the apple in the garden of Eden. How you understood her then. If Jake had been the fruit, you might not have needed the snake to taunt you into biting the apple.

“Could you --?” Jake pointed towards a crumpled piece of fabric on the floor. You picked it up and crossed the tiny room in two small steps. He put on his shirt and fell back onto the pillow with a groan of pain.

“I have an idea… You might have to move though,” you whispered, gently brushing his sweat coated hair off of his forehead. He sat up and you slipped yourself in place of the pillow. Jake laid down to rest his head on your lap with a sigh of relief.

“Better?” you asked, trailing a hand carefully over his scalp, he hummed in response.

“Can I be a pain?” he asked quietly, “Could you just talk to me? It helps me drift off to sleep.”

You weren’t certain what you could talk about so you looked around the room. Spotting a bag on the corner of the desk, you could just make out the leather cover of a book. Reaching inside, you were surprised to pull out a Bible. You opened it and looked through the pages for something you might read out loud, stopping when you got to the book of Luke.

“On one occasion an expert in the law stood up to test Jesus. ‘Teacher’, he asked ‘what must I do to inherit eternal life?’

“What is written in the Law?” he replied. ‘How do you read it?’

He answered, ‘Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength and with all your mind and, ‘Love your neighbour as yourself.’

“You have answered correctly,” Jesus replied. ‘Do this and you will live’.”

But he wanted to justify himself, so he asked Jesus, ‘And who is my neighbour?’”

Jake smiled at the familiar text. Your hand had found its way back to his head, gently drawing circles into his scalp and occasionally brushing a knot out. It felt hypnotic. Your voice drowned out most other noise in the room, it did so so effectively that neither of you heard Bob walk into the room.

Bob had been Jake’s friend for a while now, both agreeing to keep the friendship on the down low. Largely for Bob’s sake as he had grown up with strict and judgemental parents and preferred to keep the fact that he was a regular church goer to himself, to avoid his father learning of the news that his son had converted to catholicism. Captain Floyd was not a man to be trifled with when it came to matters of the church and Bob was certain that if his father knew he would both be disowned and beaten within an inch of his life.

He had expected Jake to lie low after his locker room outburst, he knew how often the man got tension headaches after confrontations but he hadn’t expected a female voice to be coming from the room. For a brief second, he thought it might be Phoenix, lecturing Jake about Coyote but he quickly realised that the voice was soft and soothing and its words too melodic and careful to be anything but read from a book. It was a book he knew, Bob realised as he listened in on the reading.

“In reply Jesus said: “A man was going down from Jerusalem to Jericho, when he was attacked by robbers. They stripped him of his clothes, beat him and went away, leaving him half dead. A priest happened to be going down the same road, and when he saw the man, he passed by on the other side. So too, a Levite, when he came to the place and saw him, passed by on the other side. But a Samaritan, as he travelled, came where the man was; and when he saw him, he took pity on him.”

He leaned further into the room, certain that he would not be seen and he took in the scene in front of him. You were reading from the Bible, the book laying open on Jake’s chest as one of your hands turned pages and followed lines and the other ran through the man’s hair. Jake was lying peacefully, his head on your lap, gently turned towards your tummy and a sleepy smile etched on his face.

He couldn’t help but be surprised. You had never really seemed to be Jake’s type. You were usually a wallflower, quiet and unassuming, haunting the back corners and outskirts of any party you had been dragged to by Halo and Phoenix alongside him, while Jake usually worked his way towards the centre of attention. And yet, as he watched his friend watch you, Bob wondered how on earth he hadn’t seen it before.

“You have a nice voice,” Jake mumbled and Bob watched you smile as you read.

“He went to him and bandaged his wounds, pouring on oil and wine. Then he put the man on his own donkey, brought him to an inn and took care of him. The next day he took out two denarii and gave them to the innkeeper. ‘Look after him,’ he said, ‘and when I return, I will reimburse you for any extra expense you may have.’

“Which of these three do you think was a neighbour to the man who fell into the hands of robbers?”

The expert in the law replied, “The one who had mercy on him.”

Jesus told him, ‘Go and do likewise’.”

By the time you finished your reading, Jake had fallen fast asleep. Bob left feeling ashamed of himself for having intruded on this intimate moment. And yet, a large part of his heart ached with yearning for something like that to happen to him. He hadn’t realised how desperately he wanted to lay on someone’s lap while they read aloud to him until he had seen it happen to Jake.

—

The next morning found you and Jake together in his room again, this time for a different reason than yesterday. The mission was in a few hours and without a proper place to pray on board the vessel the two of you were making do with kneeling on the floor by his bed.

This mission wasn’t as dangerous as the nuclear bombing mission that Jake and the team had been assigned to a few months ago, but there was always a chance that someone didn’t come back. As the two of you sat in silence and prayed for everyone’s safe return, you felt Jake’s hand brush against your clasped ones.

You had a tear streaming down your cheek, the nerves and fear getting to you more than usual this time.

“Hey,” he said in a soft voice, “Everything is going to be alright.”

You nodded in response, “I know, I’m just scared.”

His hand moved up your shoulder to the back of your neck, gently guiding your forehead to press against his, “I’ve got your back out there. We are all going to make it back safe.”

You opened your eyes to look up at him, surprised to find that he was already looking at you.

“I know, I have your back too Jake,” you said quietly.

He pressed a chaste kiss to your forehead and hesitated. It looked like he wanted to kiss you, and there was a part of you that wanted him to. He was the man you had been looking for your whole life, you knew it on your first date. Getting to see the soft side of Jake had opened up a whole new world of possibilities that Hangman hadn’t offered you before. He was a good man and you saw that more with every moment you got to spend with him.

After how he defended you to his friends in the locker room, it had cemented your opinion of him, he was the one. Before you could muster up the courage to kiss him, he stood up. To cover up the slight tension in the air you let out a quiet laugh, “We are going to have to change your callsign.”

“What do you mean?” he asked, looking at you like you had lost your mind.

You just laughed at him some more, “You said that you had my back out there, and that isn’t the Hangman way.”

He rolled his eyes at you, “Well fine, then I don’t have your back out there,” he said, throwing your sass back at you with a smile.

At the end of the day, your fear had been misplaced. The mission was a success and everyone made it home safely. Jake even kept his promise and flew as your wingman, watching your back from the threat of any enemy aircraft.

The team got orders to return to California, another mission would be found for the so called ‘Dream Team’ and they wanted to keep you all together a little longer.

After getting your orders, the celebration on the boat came to a quiet end. Most people returned to their bunks early, the adrenaline of the flight leaving their bodies tired and weary. You had done the same, but now that you were laying in bed, sleep would not come. Tossing and turning, the blankets had slowly gotten wrapped around your bare legs. The boat was hot and since you had a bunk to yourself, you didn’t bother with putting on anything more than a tank top and comfortable underwear to sleep in.

A knock on your door startled you. As you tried to get out of bed to answer it the blanket found its way around your ankle, sending you tumbling to the floor with a thud. The doors on these rooms didn’t have locks, there was no privacy in the military, so you couldn’t say that you were surprised when the door opened and someone came in to see if you were alright.

Jake’s voice whispered through the room, “Are you okay? I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“Y-you didn’t,” you stuttered out, a blush covering your face. The blanket had miraculously wrapped around your waist when you fell, covering your scantily clothed ass, but to get up, he would have to see your underwear. As you tried to get up and keep the blanket around yourself, you slipped again. With your hands occupied with the blanket, you were preparing yourself to fall face first back to the floor, when two warm hands grabbed your hips, steadying you.

Jake practically lifted you off the floor with just his arms, and you would have been impressed, if the warm sensation from his hands hadn’t been so distracting. Your grip on the blanket loosened and it fell to the floor. As Jake turned you around to face him, he seemed to realise why you were keeping such a hold on it while you were trying to get up.

The light from the hall was enough that you could see a blush cover his face. Your chest was nothing to brag about, but without a bra on and only your thin tank top, there was little left to the imagination. Your underwear were of the bikini variety so they kept the essentials well covered. You watched as he struggled to tear his eyes from your body, his grip on your hips becoming tighter and tighter the longer he looked at you.

“Jake?” you asked him, “Are you alright?”

“Y-yeah,” he said, his voice a whisper as he brought his eyes back up to yours. You could see that his pupils were blown wide, and he had a far off look on his face. Gently breaking his grip on you, you bent down to retrieve the blanket from the floor, wrapping it around yourself protectively, your blush now spreading down your neck and chest, no one had ever seen you in this state of undress before besides your sisters.

Jake turned away from you then, blowing out a breath and bringing his hands up to rub at the back of his head. As he turned back around, you saw an unreadable expression on his face, “I’m so sorry,” he said, “I should have waited outside.”

“Its okay,” you reassure him, reaching out of the blanket cocoon with one hand to touch his arm gently, “You didn’t know that I sleep in less than appropriate pyjamas.”

He let out a strangled laugh, looking up at the ceiling, “Yeah, but now that I do, I find that staying here with you much longer could pose a problem.”

“What do you need?” you asked him, wondering the purpose of his visit in the first place.

“You,” he said quickly, “Err, to check on you, make sure you are okay…,” he finished, his voice trailing off at the end.

You smiled at him, he was cute when he got flustered, “I’m okay,” you said quietly, taking a step closer to him, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m alright,” he said, “I, um, also wanted to ask you about going on a date. Well another date, maybe a non-church one this time?”

You smiled at his nerves, “That sounds lovely, I would be happy to go on another date with you.”

Before you gave yourself time to change your mind, you leaned up on your tip toes and pressed a kiss to his jaw. The man before you let out a sigh and closed his eyes, bringing a hand up to touch the spot you had just kissed.

“Good night Lieutenant Seresin,” you said with a smile.

His smile matched yours as he bent down and planted a kiss on the top of your head, “Good night Lieutenant Y/LN.”

You watched him walk the few doors down to his own bunk before closing the door to yours. As you crawl back into bed, the feeling of the cool sheets on your back calms your nerves. As sleep finally claims you, your last thought is how you can still feel his hands on your hips.

—

Jake had texted you almost as soon as you had left the base. He wanted to know if you were free tonight for your date. With your family living across the country, and most of your friends just getting back from the same mission, it was easy to give him a yes.

He had called you soon after you arrived home, telling you to dress up tonight and that he would be by at seven to pick you up.

You showered and put on a light amount of makeup, taking care that you looked and smelled your best. From your closet, you pulled the black dress that your sisters had insisted you buy from the hanger. The neckline was a little lower than you were comfortable with, and the dress itself was more form fitting than you were used to, but they had practically forced you to buy it when you went shopping at Christmas last year. They said it would be the perfect dress for a date, and you agreed with them, the only problem was that you rarely went on dates, evidenced by the store tag still hanging from such a beautiful dress.

You cut the tag off and pulled the dress over your head, struggling with the zipper for a moment before closing the back. You slipped into your black heels and secured your pearl earrings to your ears before looking over yourself in the full length mirror.

Just as you were about to change your shoes, there was a knock at the door. Jake was almost twenty minutes early, but you didn’t mind. You walked confidently to the door, opening it up to reveal the most handsome man you had ever seen.

Jake had donned a full suit and tie and he was holding a beautiful bouquet complete with some red roses.

“Oh, Jake, they’re beautiful,” you say, taking the bouquet from his hand, “Come in while I put them in water.”

He made his way into the apartment behind you, and you could feel his eyes taking in your outfit as you put the flowers in a vase on your counter.

His voice drawled out from behind you, “Those flowers aren’t nearly as beautiful as you are tonight.”

You turned back to him, a huge smile on your face, “You said I had to dress up, so here I am.”

Laughing, Jake moved closer to you, “I have a reservation at seven-thirty, I hope you are hungry.”

“I am starving,” you said, giving him a coy look, loving the way that he huffed out a laugh at your attempt at flirting.

“Well, my lady, your humble steed awaits,” he said with a chuckle, offering you his arm.

He escorted you to his truck, opening the door and helping you inside before doing a little jog around to the driver’s side.

Dinner was wonderful, you ate so much that you thought Jake might have to carry you out of the restaurant to the car. Before you could make it too far into the parking lot, Jake tugged on your hand leading you to the beach. The restaurant was on the water and it was a lovely night.

As you got closer to the sand, Jake paused, pulling off his dress shoes and socks, letting them hang from two fingers. You balanced yourself against him with one hand as you took both of your heels off. Jake took them off your hands with a smile, taking one of your hands with his free one.

Jake led the way to the surf, his hand was warm in your own. As you walked together along the surf, the light conversation from dinner had gotten a bit heavier.

"You know, I'd never been near the ocean before moving here," you said, digging your feet in the sand and enjoying the feel of the thousands of little grains on your skin

“Why not?” Jake asked, looking over at your sand covered feet.

"Indiana doesn't have many opportunities for beach walks… And my mom isn't a fan of long distance driving," you said quietly, looking out across the expansive ocean in front of you.

"Dad's not keen on highways?" Jake laughed a little

You sighed before your next statement, "No dad…" you said trailing off quietly.

Jake let out a sigh, bringing his shoe laden hand up to rub at his face, "Shit. Sorry, I didn't realise."

"It's okay. He was nice but I didn't get to meet him, so I only have second-hand stories… He was a pilot though. Although he was commercial," you tell him slowly, like you’re trying to hold some emotions in.

He asked his next question quietly, "Passenger flights?"

"No just… goods. Plane crashed east of Alaska the year my mom got pregnant and … yeah…" your voice was getting thick with tears, the effort of holding them back made your words quiet and choked.

Jake stayed quiet, waiting patiently for you to continue.

You steeled yourself before continuing, "Mom never got Dad back. Just a nice little plaque and an old uniform he had left in his locker. After that, she sort of shut down. Didn't go out, didn't talk, just walked around the garden and muttered under her breath.“

"I'm sorry" he said, his voice filled with sympathy.

"It's okay… the only time I remember her talking to me was when I told her I wanted to be a nun. She went bezerk! Just screaming and wailing and telling me that I couldn't end the family line here. It was really weird but it did get me thinking and I ended up chickening out…"

“I wanted to be a priest when I was little,” he admitted quietly, “Can you imagine me as a priest? In my robes, spreading the word of God over an entire church?”

“You’d get a full church, that’s for certain,” you said laughing a little as you poked him in the ribs.

He laughed at that.

“Mostly women though,” you added quickly, watching his bright smile get a little bigger, before falling off his face slowly.

He seemed nervous before asking, “Would you come?”

Wanting to bring back the light mood of the evening, you said, “Well if I was a nun, then I’d have to.”

"And if you weren't?" Jake asked, laughing a little at your comment.

"I might… I'd sit right at the front," you said, a light blush creeping on your face. Trying to lighten the mood you added "you know, staring unblinkingly, giving you the heebie jeebies."

Jake laughed out loud, looking at you from the corner of his eye, “What makes you think I wouldn't be one of those weirdos who stares right back? Romeo and Juliet, creepy church version."

You doubled over laughing at him then, “It would truly be a forbidden love considering priests can’t date or get married.”

"I think it would be worth it," he said, looking at the sand, "We'd make it work. We'd send each other weird little letters, read together under the shade of a weird little tree. You know, like creepy little weirdos."

You paused for a moment, looking up at him with concern on your face, "You're already there Jacob, that is one hell of an imagination ya got there."

"It's good for kids. They love that kind of stuff. That's why I was voted Favourite Youth Minister of the Year three years in a row, baby. I even got a cool shirt to show for it."

"Really?" you said, excited for him and a little impressed.

"Oh yeah! They took it very seriously," he said, shooting you a look that said maybe they didn’t.

You laughed "You like children, then?"

"Sure, they're cute,” Jake said, hesitating for a moment before continuing, “That's kind of how I figured out that maybe the church wasn't for me"

"Yeah. After I chickened out of sisterhood, I joined the Navy and I guess I realised I dodged a bullet, so to speak. I figured out pretty quickly I might want kids," you said quietly.

“Might?” Jake asked, his voice full of curiosity and disbelief.

“Yeah, might,” you shot back sassily, before adding “I don’t think a second date is a great time to say you really want a boat load of them.”

“No, you’re right. It might scare him off…” Jake said, trailing off, his voice’s quiet nature startled you when he continued, “On the other hand, he could tell you he would like at least four, but you never know.”

The two of you laughed before settling into a comfortable silence as you continued your leisurely pace down the shore. Jake turned his head to look at you, “For what it’s worth, I think you would look wonderful in a habit.”

“And the Vestments would look wonderful on you. Although I’m happy you chose the Naval uniform instead,” you said, smiling deviously.

He laughed at you, “Is it because it shows off my killer muscles?”

“No,” You said as you looked away, blushing, “It’s because Navy officers are usually allowed to marry.”

“They are, aren’t they? Now I just have to find the girl,” Jake said, tapping his chin thoughtfully.

You laughed at him, before asking in a serious voice, “Got a checklist?”

“Just going by what my grandpa said: Catholic, funny, caring and kind… Although ex-nun is pretty high on my list,” he said, only half jokingly.

You sighed heavily, “Damn, I guess I’m disqualified,” you tried not to let your disappointment come through too heavily in your voice.

“Oh, you sound disappointed. Were you hoping for something?” he asked you, his voice still teasing.

Suddenly the air around you turned serious, “I don’t want this to be casual, Jake. I don’t like the ‘will he, won’t he’… If I’m dating someone, it’s to marry not to break up.”

“Guess you’re stuck with me then,” he said quietly, after a few minutes of walking in silence he stopped walking, turning to look at you, “Would you like to be stuck with me?”

You let out a breathless sigh, "I would love to be stuck with you."

“Well then, Y/N Y/LN, would you like to go steady with me?” Jake asked you with a big grin on his face, one knee slightly bent as if he were proposing marriage.

You let out a quiet laugh, "Steady? Wow Jake, you're going very old fashioned there."

"You're right, I am. Would you give me your father's address so I may send him a letter discussing your dowry?" he asked laughing, suddenly remembering himself, he cussed, "Shit. I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to -- I'm trying to lighten the mood, I'm not good at serious conversations."

You laughed at his antics, “It’s alright, I know you aren’t. I like you despite that though.”

He sighed nervously, “So, if I haven’t messed this up, what do you say? Go steady with me?”

You smiled brilliantly at him, “I think going steady with you sounds wonderful, yes.”

“Oh thank God,” he said, bringing his hand to his chest, “You were making me nervous.”

Eventually, you made your way back to his truck. He dropped you off at your apartment, walking you to the door before planting a kiss on your head. You stood by the door and watched as he drove off. You closed the door and pressed your back to it, a goofy smile spreading over your face at how well the night had gone.

#fanfic #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick #top gun x reader #fanfiction #hangman x reader #jake hangman seresin #original fic #jake seresin #hangman top gun

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watching-pictures-move · 1 year

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Put On Your Raincoats | Wild Things (De Renzy, 1985)

Like I did with my review of Ball Busters, I present to you some stray observations in scattershot form, not unlike the vignette structure of the film being commented on:

I didn't watch this to make a "We have Wild Things at home!" joke, because I haven't seen Wild Things (1998) and this was released first. I'm innocent of all charges, your honor.

This is bookended by a pair of roughie-style scenes. I think the first one is better, in that the female aggressors make it stand out against the usual genre dynamics and the latter has John Leslie doing some weird bear growl noises I found a bit distracting. Both also have neat twists at the end that go a long way in alleviating the sleaze factor that normally comes with these things.

Between the organ music on the soundtrack, the pointed shot of the cross dangling Kimberly Carson's breasts, her desire to make love as a means of procreation and her devout nature ("I'm talking to God here"), the segment where Herschel Savage tries to impregnate Carson plays like a middle finger to the moral majority types, although one could argue it's a bit more subtle than the usual evangelical characters in more overt porno satires (Spitfire, Friday the 13th: A Nude Beginning). This is also the only time I can recall off the top of my head seeing Savage with a beard, and combined with the leather jacket he's introduced in, it's a pretty good look. (Much better than the Gene Shalit 'stache he had in Skin Flicks.)

As someone who's made that same awful sitcom double date joke in too many reviews, I have a tremendous amount of respect for Elle Rio for following through on it. You see, the problem is that "there is so many men and how you say, so little time", and maybe she "should get a little book or something", so she "accidentally date two guys at the same time!" (For the record, I love her accent and her mellifluous voice. I'm not making fun, I promise.) And rather than suffer any embarrassment, she takes charge and resolves things in the most elegant manner possible given the circumstances. (Hint: it rhymes with "free gum.") Apparently this was added after the fact (the breaking of the fourth wall feels more in line with Ball Busters) but is arguably a highlight, making this not unlike a Heaven's Gate situation where a later release is supposed to be the superior version. Or maybe like the Snyder Cut. Definitely not like Apocalypse Now: Redux, where the additional footage kills the pacing. Bonus points for Tom Byron's terrible mustache and his insistence on kicking rocks at Jon Martin's car. "A lot of men, they don't have the kind of sense of humour like we girls do."

Maybe I'm still high off a rewatch of Body Double, but there's one shot where the husband is masturbating in the foreground and the wife is masturbating in the background that looks a little bit like a composition from Mr. BDP himself. Now if you just switched out the rack focus for a split diopter, we'd be in business. (This scene also starts with the wife looking at magazine layout with *shudders* Ron Jeremy, and thankfully that's where he stays.) And before you think I'm giving the movie too much credit visually, there's some pretty nice use of lens flare and shadows throughout. This is not without a decent amount of style.

Lots of great music throughout, probably a little heavier on the rock side of things (psych rock jams, garage rock, funk rock, maybe a little doo wop), but my favourite bit of scoring has to be the fluttering synths in the first scene.

While I missed the knockoff Troy McClure shtick John Leslie was doing while hosting Ball Busters, Jill Ferrar is not without her charms and has some fun interplay with the crew. Also, unlike Leslie she doesn't try to push a heretofore unheard of definition of the title, so definitely wins some points there.

Now, as for whether this is any good: if you like the performers, I can report they are in fine form, and if you are not yet sold on any of them, a strong case is made for all. (MVP: Elle Rio, for the record.) There's enough variation in the premises of each segment, the energy level is consistently high, and the film is not without a good amount of humour (and doesn't feel mean spirited the way I've found De Renzy sometimes can be). I'm assuming Howard Hawks never saw this (because it was released after his passing, unless he came back a decade later like Bruce Lee was prophesied to in Ng See-Yuen's Bruce Lee: The Man, The Myth), but it meets his criteria for a good movie and then some.

#film #put on your raincoats #movie review #wild things #alex de renzy

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gingerbeardmansim · 1 year

Photo

A week or so later, Daryl and Tat called Jasper and invited him over to see their home. Of course, the conversation led to an interrogation from Tat.

JASPER- “Really beautiful home guys! It’s nice that we are all back home. And remember how we wanted to get out of Newcrest so bad back then?”

TATSUO- “Jasper, I need to know. I am not being accusatory or judgmental in any way, but how did you, of all the gay guys I knew, wind up married to a woman and have a kid!?”

DARYL- “Tat, seriously? I told you not to...”

JASPER- “It’s fine Daryl, Tat isn’t the first guy that has asked me that. I mean I was a pretty promiscuous guy back in the day, mostly with men. “

TATSUO- “Like Enzo, what did he have to say about it?”

DARYL- “TAT, please.”

JASPER- “Really, Daryl, it is fine. It’s not that I have changed. I mean I am still bisexual, but for so long it felt like someone else had control over what I was doing. All through College, and even before that. It seemed as though I didn’t have control over myself. Then one day - BAM! It’s like someone, maybe the Maker, pushed an autonomous button on in my life and I found myself finally being who I really was. I met Rylie and finally settled down.”

TATSUO- “So it was like someone turned on a button for autonomy, Huh? Weird. But it’s all good. I mean for you.”

DARYL- “Yeah, we are both very happy for you Jas. You really seem happy.

JASPER- “I am, I really am. I mean I still see guys and think he is hot, and other women too. I mean I am a Sim, right? Rylie knows I have been with male Sim and other women, but Rylie and I were meant to be. She is good for me. And for Enzo, he is still around, I am sure. It wasn’t a big deal for him. Not sure he was all that into me anyway.”

TATSUO- “By the way, Love that ‘stache “

#TS4 #TS4RotationalGamePlay #Newcrest #ThePences #DarylPence #TatsuoValliet #JasperWilson #Gay Sims #Gay Simblr

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bi-demon-ium · 1 year

Text

S2 EP3 LIVEBLOG AHEAD!

I CALLED IT ON THE TRAILHAND THING

hm does that mean rhonda, miss perumal, and milligan are targets, too?

OH…. A RUSE… A TRICK…. CALLBACK… OH GOD

“and then we take care of curtain. somehow” same

flgkhjfgh how about Over There. on the metal. “metal is a luxury. toughen up george”

ah mr benedict pacing real

remarkable, it’s a breakthrough, etc. number two Is It The Time

also mold lmao

I love that hes like “please put the garbage back in the bin what is this” like come on we’ve been kidnapped but we’re not ANIMALS

also again love that number two is just fully on biological warfare mode????? girl you are insane I love you

mr benedicts like I think that might be a war crime? and shes like I DIDN’T SIGN ANYTHING “that’s clever. troubling, but clever”

oh god.

to infect my brother with love, genuine love, real happiness—oh sir…. oh that. that is not going to work. I love that

oh the algebra thing that’s. hmmm

also “He craves my approval” I’m. mixed feelings I think he kinda does but also. hm

also dlkfgjdfg “that was on his turf :D” “so is this!” “…oh”

DFLGKDJFGKJ AT LEAST RHONDA AND MILLIGAN ARE AT HOME, AWAY FROM DANGER

OH SIR

DO YOU REALLY THINK THEY WOULDN’T IMMEDIATELY SEEING THAT

uh oh they’re going to be late that’s not good

lkdjfgkldfjg the cart falling and rhonda calmly stopping it and encouraging the worker “you can DO this. professionalism. say it.” “PROFESSIONALISM.” god I love her so much calming everyone down shes’ so good I love rhonda so much

uh oh nolan and cannonball know about the sugar thing gkfgh

“SOME OF THEM ARE QUITE SMALL”

they’re also slower though so maybe the adults won’t be quite as late as they think

oh poor noland man looks like he’s going to—FALTERING MARRIAGE?

“that’s remarkably unwise captain!” “DO AS I SAY” “yes captain!”

uh oh! constance up to some mischief!

ohhh are we at the underground poker thing finally??? YESSSS

KICK THEIR ASSES KID! GET EM KID!

fglkhjfghlkjfgh “constance wants a taste >:)” CONSTANCE? THIRD PERSON?

I love them all so much

do you really just assume everyones going to allow kids in

also love this moustache man already

I know we saw this in the trailer already but im still cackling at “they sent me to clean house”

oh they think they’re going to kick this kid’s ass but reynie is going to destroy them

LKGDJF “DEATH OR GLORY”

also what language was that I didn’t catch it

also yall are on a winning streak but don’t think that’s necessarily going to last guys don’t be stupid

is sticky counting cards. my beloved

uh oh reynie whats up

CONSTANCE I LOVE YOU SO MUCH DLKGJGH “GET YOURSELF SOMETHING NICE”

I hope stache man comes back I adore her already

“enzo’s pies and pastries” huh. doesn’t SOUND like our old friend but. who knows

oh mr benedict my beloved

curtain my beloathed what a loser <33

“we’ve been expecting you”????? big fear

dlfkg hes the only one not clapping I thought you wanted him to think you approved or whatever

oh if mr benedict tries to interrupt like he did with the symposium I’ll die

I love you sir please don’t

oh no milligan and miss perumal scene. huge fear

NUANCED ADVERTISEMENT I do love him

and there’s rhonda still casually supporting that worker

IS A GOLD BAR SCARED IN FORT KNOX?

if that hand holding is anything but platonic I’ll die

could have been something but not awful

dlfgkjdkfg sticky are you going to fix this fucking boat

sorry ship

I love sticky so much

he literally did just count cards

I adore him oh my god

LKFGJFLKGHJ WAIT YOU CHEATED?

he learned it at boatwright

and reynie disapproves

DLKFGJDKFJG KATE AND CONSTANCE ALSO CHEATED

POOR REYNIE LMAO

HES LIKE WE JUST HAD A WHOLE CRISIS TOGETHER ABOUT CHEATING?

oh this is a meta thing for sure this is a meta thing like last time they were all so upset about cheating last time—well most of them—but now only reynie cares

WE SHOULD GIVE BACK OUR WINNINGS? REYNIE I LOVE YOU BUT SIR. SIR NO.

I mean I see what you’re saying reynie and you’re not entirely wrong but you are in a desperate situation

“how will your moral victory taste when benedict is in the ground” I mean see she is also not entirely wrong

youre telling me ive been SWINDLED by CHILDREN

please tell me hes going to think its hilarious and give it back that’s very funny

KATE I LOVE YOU

I think stache man is going to think this is hilarious

Or want them to cheat for him or something

I love stache man he just keeps listing

ive never seen…. anyone come clean

I love him

it deserves to be rewarded—

OH LDKFGJDFG hm well

so reynie was right in some way but also . hm i. again meta

and reynie not getting the constance sarcasm lmao

KATE I LOVE YOU THE WHOLE WATER POLO THING I ADORE HER

“I HAVE SO MANY REASONS”

CANNONBALL I LOVE YOU SO MUCH I LOVE YOU SO MUCH

CANNONBALL!!!!!!!! MY BELOVED!!!!!!!!!!

kate lmao

“an anti gambling mission”

cannonball: what

oh I wanna punch curtain so bad

also ironically now the scenes with benedict are almost my least favorite literally just because im so anxious dlfgjdfg

and afraid hes going to do something that triggers second hand embarrassment ngl I love that man but if he tries to run in front of that camera or yell at curtain in front of everyone I’ll literally perish

cannonball my beloved every single time I see him I just. heart emojis blasting everywhere

constance is going to pretend to be a rich little gi—wait

wait. wait is that

are those her real parents

like the arctic spy thing

see this sounds insane but constance is fucking buck wild enough I believe it

genuinely I’d buy this I honestly have no idea if shes fucking with him or not

I mean she might be fucking with him with the truth but you know

also this announcer is so funny

SLIGHT DEFLATION ISSUE

JETTISON LUGGAGE DLKFGJDGFG

rip milligan’s enormous amount of bags

also cannonball’s reaction to constance’s spiel about her parents

I love cannonball so much lkfjgdfg

maritime court????

I feel like they’re fucking with them with the tale of the previous stowaways

NEGOGIATION LGKFGH

oooh the piano from the theme playing subtly…… love that

reynie pushing it I love them all

shaking noland’s hand and CONSTANCE STOLE SOME FRUIT LDKGJFGH

curtain being weird and creepy while benedict just silently goes “what the fuck” and squirms in his seat like he wants to die

oh this is terrifying

mr b PLEASE don’t say anything

Why do I feel like “north star” specifically will be important

oh number two are you going to steal that pie van

I love you

or hide in it

but without mr b?

Jackson and jillson calling out sebastian in unison ldkfgjdfg

uh oh they found him

uh oh

lfkghjfgh “that’s not promising!”

hes doing the gestures again! terrifying!

uh oh benedict’s reaction—is that him going “oh! he’s doing the gestures again!” or is that him being effect—OH NO OH NO OH NO OH NO OHO NHEOIDNHGKLHJFKGJFGH

OH NO OH NO OH NO OH NO OHOFGHOFGHN OON ONOOOOO

NOOOOOOOOOOOO

NOOOO NO NO NO NO NO

THE WHISPERS AND THE MUSIC THAT’S

NOOOOOO HES BEEN WHAMMIED OH NO GOD OH NO

oh GOD OH FUCK OH NO

im TERRIFIED OH GOD

also I love captain noland <3

he offers to help each out but of course constance refuses

I genuinely like him so much

again it would be deeply funny if they mention benedict just before they leave and he goes BENEDICT?

OHHH NOLAND OFFERING STICKY A JOB

I LOVE NOLAND SO MUCH<3

HE SALUTED THEM<3

I hope this isn’t the last we see of him and cannonball

I don’t’ think it is but idk

SHE . THAT’S WHAT THE FRUIT WAS FOR

SHE FRUITED THE WATER POLO TEAM

SHE GOT THEM ARRESTED WITH TWO TANGERINES

I ADORE HER SO FUCKING MUCH

“no lecture. great work” “you’re maturing”

also she called him Reynard 😭

“I can hear mr benedict’s voice”

“MR BENEDICT IS NOT STRONG HE IS A GLASS HOUSE HELD TOGETHER BY DESPERATE OPTIMISM”

constance again talking to reynie with some sympathy but it’s a little mean too

OHHH….. “you’re reynie Mmuldoon—this guy talks about you all the time. you’re his best friend, right?” YESSSSSSSSSSS AWWWWWW<333333

Jeffers! my idiot!

ldfkgjfg he tried to talk in code and failed

“circle of children” “society of children” “right of course. society of children” f;ghkfgh

really? interesting. just the children?

uh oh!

I RESPECT THEM DEEPLY

uh oh! without mercy! that’s bad!

lkdglkdjfg curtain’s grey man…… jeffers does not deserve an intimidating title. sir that’s jeepers

although that was a creepy smile

THAT’S IT??? OHHHHHHHH

#mbs spoilers #mbs liveblog #mbs s2 spoilers #the mysterious benedict society #mbs disney

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bellatrixobsessed1 · 2 years

Text

Ten Into The Fog (Part 27)

To call what Yakone has an evil lair is just terribly untrue. His place of dwelling is actually quite nice.

It is tucked a rather large highrise suite signed to the name Tonyak. Really it is brillant, hiding away right in front of everyone in one of the most luxurious apartment complexs that Azula has seen yet.

Unlike many of the buildings Yakone stopped at, this one has electrical lighting. Electrical lighting and lots if space for a massive bed and sofas with coffee colored cushions that are almost as comfy as the ones in the palace. He has a towering bookshelf made of dark colored wood, trimmed with silver that matches the desk.

At the corner of the room is a strange looking bathtub crafted out of what must have been a geode.

It is quite a task to try to slip away to write of her whereabouts. She only gets the chance when Mai tells Yakone that he is running low on champagne.

She is torn between using this time to write and using it to snoop about the place. Decidely she will forgo her writing to scope the place out. There are so many place to look for such a small apartment.

Yakone could be storing written plans or weapon staches anywhere.

She could rummage through his desk drawers but she has a feeling that she will come back with a whole lot of wasted time and nothing of importance, and that is if the drawers are even unlocked. She does however, shift a few of the man's satomobile paperweights. Finding nothing under them, she tries pulling one apart.

Azula's lips part ever so slightly when the paperweight comes apart and a small key drops out. It is too small for any door or desk but it might fit into that briefcase that Yakone carries about. Likely this is where he keeps important documents. If not, it is where he keeps cash and drugs.

She supposes that it couldn't hurt to check the bookshelf and under the mattress.

"You should let Sokka know that you're alright, he's probably not handling things well."

Still picking her way through the bookshelf, Azula tosses a look over her shoulder. "Priorities, Mai. I'm not going to get many opportunities to conduct an in depth search of this place."

"Its just a quick call, Azula."

Her brows furrow and Mai sighs.

"Right, lets have a little lesson on phones."

.oOo.

It is nice to hear Azula’s voice again. It is silk and shimmer for his ears. And she sounds like she is doing well. Better than he is, for certain, and she is the one in danger.

He feels almost silly for being so terrified especially when Azula herself is so calm. But then that's not exactly out of the ordinary.

"I've figured out where Yakone resides." She mentions. "It is in a high rise across from a mover theater called..." she trails off, presumably to have a glance out the window. "It is across from The Leaping Rabaroo Mover Theater. Room 712. The view from up here is incredible. Its nice to go onto the roof and watch the satomobiles pass."

Sokka’s heart leaps, she always had enjoyed standing on the road with him to watch the bustle below. "Yaknoe lets you wander?"

"He does, yes." Azula confirms. "I have convinced him that I am afraid to cross the streets so he doesn't think that I will go very far. There are so many streets here, Sokka. I've never seen so many streets. And they're so crowded too."

If he didn't know any better, Sokka would think that she was having a great time. And maybe she truly is. She's a woman of discovery and as far she knows, all of this is brand new to her.

"It shouldn't be too hard to slip away after I've found his distribution plans and routes. Although, it is possible that he has them memorized rather than written."

"Its nice to hear your voice again..."

"Focus, Sokka!"

"But it is!"

"I've only been gone a for a week."

"It's been a horrible week."

"You'll live." She pauses. "I have to go." She disconnects with such abruptness that he can only assume that Yakone had returned. The silence on the other end of the phone leaves a somber quiet in his heart.

He wishes that she would have let him say goodbye...just in case.

He shudders, why does his mind always go to such dismal, cynical places. He really does wish that he could be optimistic like Aang or hopeful like Katara. But a bad thing has happened once already, there's nothing stopping another dreadful thing from happening.

.oOo.

"I have a surprise for you." Yakone announces the next morning.

"The kind that I will like or the kind that will make me angry?" Azula frowns. "Rather the kind that will make me angry or the kind that will me feel annoyed. I don't like surprises."

"I didn't take you for the sort that would. Your father certainly hates them. He will be here to visit you very soon."

Azula furrows her brows. "Father is coming to visit me?"

"Did you think that he wouldn't."

She clears her throat. "Well he is a busy man, especially now that he has new weapons."

Well he has made time for you. Apparently." Everything in his tone says that he too hadn't expect to see Ozai either and it sounds like he is just as dissatisfied with surprises as she is.

She wanders her way over to Mai, feeling a touch dizzy. Does father care enough for her to actually check in on her and make sure that she is adjusting well? He had implied that she was no longer a concern of his.

And yet he is standing in the doorway way. "Good afternoon, Azula."

"Hello, father. She returns the greeting. She wishes that she weren’t as relieved as she feels. "How long will you be staying?"

"For a while." He replies. "Plans have changed again. Your brother is becoming a problem. It will be easier to overthrow him without having to watch my back so intensly."

"Will I be going with you?" Spirits, she would rather endure a familiar terror than whatever Yakone has in mind for her.

"You will remain her with me, per my agreement with your father. You aren't going to cheat me, are you Ozai?"

Azula shudders, her heart sinking rather fast. She has never gear anyone address father as anything but Fire Lord.

"Watch your tongue and mind titles, Yakone." He sneers. "We are not equals and ill take my daughter if I want her." He declares.

And so it stings that much more when he leaves an hour or so later without her.

#avatar the last airbender #azula #sokka #sokkla #fanfiction

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ludwigplayingthetrombone · 3 years

Text

[TW: blood and a small bit of gore during a flashback at the beginning]

Behold! Chapter 3 is here! this is one i added in to clarify how it fits into the mchanzo timeline! This first part takes place after chapter 5 of getting together comic.

Chapter 1 Chapter 2

If you like, consider leaving a tip! or become a patron for early access and nsfw!

Genj: What is happening, Baptiste? Who is hurt? Bap: Hanzo’s in critical condition. McCree is also unconscious

Mei: Genji, we need your help with McCree. Don’t worry, he’s stable now. Dr. Ziegler wants us to monitor him until she stabilizes Hanzo. Echo: What happened, mei? Mei: ...Reaper attacked him. I held him off until hanzo could save us. McCree woke up, so we fled. McCree went back to help Hanzo while he insissted I go help evacuate the area. But.. I told snowball to watch out for him. Then...

“McCree said Hanzo was shot by Reaper. [genji’s uneven, desperate grunts/ breathing] Gabe: That’s enough, kid, he’s dead! He was dead 10 minutes ago

Gabe: They can’t hurt you anymore. Genj: He isnt HERE! What’s the POINT. He needs to die! I have to kill him! I JUST WANT HIM DEAD I just want him DEAD! I’ll only be satisfied when he’s dead, Reyes.

Bap: Genji

Bap: You zoned out, what’s on your mind? Genj: When I was in Blackwatch... I told reyes over and over that I wanted nothing more than for Hanzo to die painfully. Bap: That is... understandable given what you were going through. Genj: I am worried Reaper said... or this influenced him to... I wanted to bring that period up with Hanzo myself. Bap: You are not to blame.

Genj: I told McCree that, but i know he feels the same. Bap: You had no idea any of this would happen, Genji. Could you have predicted Overwatch would fall when Reyes killed Antonio? You think I knew my contribution to Talon would lead to suffering? There’s no way we could have known. The people who helped you out of a dark time now vowing to hunt you down... I dunno, just-. People having an intimate knowledge of you when you were so vulnerable is... terrifying.

Bap: That is more on his character than anything. And a betrayal of your trust in him. Hanzo will understand. Genj: Thank-you for helping save my brother. Bap: You’re very welcome

Genj: When do we separate? He’s holding on?? I-um! I have to help plan a mission, so I have to go now. Bap: O-Oh sorry! Be safe. Genj: I’ll see you. I have to tell McCree too. bap: See you.

Genj: [I shouldn’t have chickened out... Maybe it could have lasted longer. I refuse to fall for another medic.] Mc- Oh sorry if i startled you! Bap: Are you showering? Water’s cold. Genj: No, I got a present for you on my mission! Bap: Oh?

Genj: Behold! Look how cute! Bap: You laugh, but i’ll wear it. Genj: What have i Done.... Got it!

Pharah: Go to bed. Bap: Genji... [genji snores] Jess: No,no,no, listen, far, we staked out the place for 48 hours and-.... [genji’s back cracks and he moans]

Genj: Oh!! Evening! I didn’t know you were back!

Bap: H-Hey! Flexing the ‘stache tonight? Genj: oH! I forgot, forgive me. I thought I was alone. Bap: It’s just your face, Genji, it’s ok. Genj: I know, but it’s scandalous! [bap chuckles] Bap: One moment, rock in my shoe... Genj: I don’t have that problem

Genj: You’re staring

Bap: I uh- It wasn’t... I- Genj: I was expecting a cool quip from you. I’m disappointed. Bap: You looked so contemplative and cool. Like you have something you want to say.

Genj: What makes someone a hero? Is someone a hero because they want to be one or because they have to be one?

Bap: Asking the hard questions tonight? Genj: I’ll admit I don’t know if I consider myself a hero... The media does, but... am i really? I’m not sure why i returned after the deal Overwatch forced my hand to take. Used then tossed aside. Did I want to save people or did I want to see my friends again?... I don’t think i’m a nice person.

Bap: Well.. why can’t it be both? Why is wanting to be with people you like such a selfish thing? Genj: I suppose. I don’t feel I deserve it. I grew up in a high place of privilege and notoriety. But now, I don’t feel apart of society at all anymore.

Genj: More like I’m stuck between different planes. I based so much of my identity on my status as an heir to the clan. Now that it’s bee stripped away from me... I don’t recognize what’s left. Looking at myself in a mirror, I don’t recognize myself.

Genj: I’ve been having these thoughts... Do my friends like me or do they pity me? Bap: Look at me. I neber knew the old you, and I think this you is a hero. So, if you don’t believe your old friends, then... How about believing me?

Bap: Your friendships are real. Your compassion is real. Your dumbass-edness is real. I assure you, you’re a unique, interesting man. I like this Genji.

Genj: You’re starting to sound like a comic book hero. Bap: Ah. I do don’t I? NO! [laughing] Genj: ouch, I need to cut my hair again.

Bap: [cough] It’s cold, I’m headed back.

genj: Yosh

Bap: Are uh- Are you headed to eat? Genj: yes. It’s Angela’s shift to cook, so prepare yourself. Bap: I’ve already taken imodium and ordered backup pizza [chuckle]

Oh no.

#gentiste #genji shimada #Jean-Baptiste Augustin #Overwatch #my art #//blood #//slight gore #//bare chest

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the-soliloquies-of-sadists · 3 years

Text

#208

“You know there are times that I just want to come home from being on the road and enjoy a scotch, a full-flavored cigar, and a nice long blowjob….

“That’s what my bitch cunt ex-wife gave me. It was about the only time she’s even tolerable, which is why she’s my ex. Now, most of the time I need to fuck something, and not just fuck, but brutalize the hell out of something.

“I had a regular faggot cunt for that. Key word there is ‘had.’ The fucker had the audacity to tell me that the only thing it was getting from me out of our arrangement was toxic masculinity. I smacked it across the face, kicked it in the balls, and walked out the door. Fuck. Toxic masculinity my ass. It didn’t have a problem with that when I had it in the back of my semi with my ten-inch cock buried in its cunt. So faggot here we are. And I’m calling you Faggot going forward. Unless you are signing over your paycheck to me, I don’t need to know your name.

“All that matters is that since I have been here your eyes can’t look away from my cock bulge. We both know that my cock rules everything. I’ve been thinking with my dick for 47 years now, and I ain’t changing. So faggot, if you have a problem with toxic masculinity, speak up now. Didn’t think so. You are just another faggot that wants to swing on a real man’s cock. I can see that you have pretty much nothing between your legs. How tiny is that clit? Four and a half? Naaa, it’s three inches at most. If anyone ever asks, you have three inches only.

“It’s not like you are going to use it for anything other than to pee. Speaking of which, you sit to pee. Real men stand… well, when I’m not pissing into a faggot. You will be expected to drink all my piss…. You know, I don’t want to go through a list of things that you will do for me. Let me just say you will be expected to do many things. Many things. I don’t respect limits, and fuck any idea of creating a safe word.

“Look, I may be a selfish asshole trucker with a ten inch cock, but I am not a psycho. My dick gets real hard knowing I am entitled to do whatever I want to you without asking you. If I wanted to take a dump in your mouth, I’m going to. Aww don’t look panicked. I find that gross too. But if ever I wanted to do it, I’m fucking doing it.

“You have a nice set up here. I like the separate entrance for your basement. This will suit me fine. Make a set of keys for me for my next visit. I don’t give a shit that your stuff is on that half of the room. I plan on using this as a crash pad. Maybe bring home some other fag or bitch to fuck. And I am saying this now, don’t you dare show any jealousy. In fact, you should be turned on knowing my cock is getting serviced. And always beg to clean off my cock whenever I fuck someone else. That’s the decent thing to do….

“Fuck your eyes can’t look away from my cock. I like that. My cock should always be your focus. Only my cock too. You are giving up all other men for me. As I just mentioned before, I won’t do the same.

“Reach over and touch my cock through my pants. Big isn’t it? It’s getting harder. You know what makes it really hard? This. A face slap. Faggot, your face was made for my hand. With. Every. Fucking. Slap. My. Dick. Gets. Harder. Fuck yeah. There are many reasons why a man would slap a faggot like you, but at the core, it’s just to remind you that you are inferior in every way. Fuck! That’s sure getting me ready to fuck your cunt.

“You know, I don’t like your beard and stache. Shave them off for my next visit. In fact, I want you hairless everywhere except your eyebrows. And if I find any hair anywhere, I will use my cigar to singe them off. You may wind up with a burn too, but that’s your fucking problem.

“I think it’s time for you to get to worship me properly. Hands behind your back. Look at this cock. You really got me leaking. That’s it, look down the shaft. Thick too? I know. Open your mouth wide and stick your tongue out as far out and down as you can. You are probably wondering how you are going to take it. Well, the answer for today is you are getting it jammed in to the root. That’s it faggot. No fucking teeth. Take it. Open up that throat. Dedicate that airway to me. Oh fuck.

“Keep those pansy assed hands behind you. When a man holds your faggot head, he’s in control of the blowjob. You sole focus is opening up your throat. Gagging is good. In fact, it’s putting a lot of throat slime on me. That’s the lube I will need for your other hole. On your fucking hands and knees now. Spread those legs. I’m taking that fucking cunt. Fuuuuck. This cunt has been used before. But not too stretched out. Faggot, I think you and your cunt are going to work out for me. Oh fuck. Hell yes. I could do this all night. Fuck, in fact I will.”

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oddsnendsfanfics · 3 years

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Unraveling in the Sheets

Genre: Fan Fiction

Pairing: Henry Cavill/OFC

Warnings: Language, Sexual Content, NSFW

Rating: M

Length: Short Story

Disclaimer: a strict work of fiction, I own nothing except the original characters and the plot line. In no way am I affiliated to any of it.

A/N: Spoiler Alert, there is smut. Be warned. It's there.

Also, I am no longer doing tags on posts. Since my list exceeds the tag limit. Please feel free to join the chat in place of the tag list.

Henry Cavill Master List

“How did you do it though?” Gliding the car into a free parking space, Henry glanced at Nell in the passenger's seat.

“How did I do what?” Eyeing him curiously, she tried to hide her gloating smile. She could be a terrible winner, even if she wasn't the winner, she had came ahead of Henry.

“You know what I mean, Nelly.”

He looked so silly, his new mustache curling when he laughed or smiled. Nell had to admit, if any man could wear the 'stache Henry did it well.

“Oh, you mean how did I suddenly leave your ass behind and finish nearly 50 positions ahead?” She laughed, crinkling her nose. “I told you, I've been working hard for this. Besides, you're too big. You move slower than I do. It's that simple. Maybe next year, you will finish ahead of me.”

“You're impossible.” Unbuckling his seat belt, Henry hurried to get out of the car and around to the other side, before Nell could open her own door. Nearly there, he frowned when she opened the door, stepping out of the Aston Martin. “You were supposed to let me open that.”

“I am supposed to do a lot of things that I do not.” Nell grabbed her hand bag. “I'll let you open the door, next time. You big dork.”

Henry was always the gentleman, even when Nell would rather rip his eyes out than speak to him in a civil manner. Not that she ever felt the former much, but on the rare occasion. Sometimes that's how things went for ex-lovers. The mid May air was growing cool, leaving a few goosebumps on Nell's exposed arms. She had expected to be back before now, which is why she'd left her sweater in the hotel.

“Well, happy late birthday. It was nice having dinner with your family. I've missed them.”

“They've missed you, too. I could tell that dad was happy you came along. He hasn't talked that much during a dinner since the last time you came over.” Henry smiled fondly. "I'm glad that you came, Nelly." Hands in his pockets, Henry sauntered along beside Nell. Approaching the main entrance, he held the door allowing her to enter.

When he'd invited her for the weekend, he wasn't confident that she would come. Wrapped up in work, Nell didn't take too much time away from Dublin these days.

"It was a nice break from work." Tucking a piece of hair behind her ear, Nell bit her bottom lip. "I know that you are busy, but do you have a few minutes to talk?"

"I always have time to talk with you." Scanning the hotel lobby, Henry tried to find a spot for them to sit and chat privately. "Should we have a seat at the bar?"

"We could, but I would really like to change. Do you mind coming up with me? We can just talk in the room. It's probably more comfortable anyway."

"Is this about the wild boy?"

"Isn't it always?"

Laughing, Henry pushed the call button for the elevator. Their son was truly something else. One day he would surely take over the world; Henry could see that coming from the day he was born. To say Ivan was Henry's pride and joy would be a massive understatement. He lived for their son. This weekend having Ivan, and Nell, in Jersey had been fantastic. A short glimpse of what life could have been. The ding of the elevator brought Henry back from his brief fantasy.

He and Nell had split up several years ago, there wasn't much chance she would feel the same as he did. Lost in the thoughts of happy little family. Allowing Nell to step onto the elevator first, Henry stood silently with his hands clasped in front of him.

“So, Ivan has been doing well in school?” He may as well get this under way.

“Define doing well,” Nell snickered. “I get a call nearly every day from his teacher. The woman is impossible, but knowing our son, he isn't making it easy for her.”

“I was like that in school. Right up until the day I left.” Henry shrugged. The elevator gently bumping to a stop, he stepped forward to hold the door for Nell.

Muttering a thank you, Nell dug for her key card, leading the way down the hall. She loved this hotel, it was the only one she stayed in, if she could help it, while visiting the Island. A great view of the water on one side, the other dazzling with a fantastic look out into the city. The first time she'd ever been to Jersey, she had stayed in the hotel and fell in love with the charm. There were days when that felt like a life time ago.

Opening the door, Nell paused to allow Henry in. “Have a seat. Anywhere you'd like. Sorry it's kind of a mess. I'm going to change.”

The hotel room was anything but a mess, minus the few sketch books that Nell had dropped on the bed. Always working. Henry took a seat on the edge of the king sized bed, casually glancing at the colour coded notes and designs that Nell had in one of the open sketch books. Costumes. A few notes detailed leather armor and Viking era clothing. She'd done well for herself, since he'd met her. The same shy costume apprentice hiding out on set of The Tudors, was now helping drive forward the details of Vikings.

In the bathroom, Nell pulled off her dress. The fabric had became clingy after a while and she needed to be more relaxed. Running shorts and a tshirt would do the trick. Sighing at her reflection, she bit her bottom lip glancing down at her top. The worn coral Nike tshirt was her favourite, it was showing the love and wear in a few spots. Perhaps she should have picked something less frumpy? She was a busy, single mom she didn't have to look the part. Ah fuck, who cared. Henry certainly wouldn't.

He was here to discuss their son, not flirt with her until she gave in to that smile. Or got lost in his eyes, those gorgeous blue eyes – the left with the flecks of brown. His charm alone was enough to make anyone weak in the knees. Damn it, she needed to get over it. He had moved on. She needed to do the same.

Blowing out a breath, Nell reached for the door, pausing when she heard Henry talking. His tone told her that he was speaking to Ivan. Quietly slipping out of the bathroom, she smiled.

“Hold on, just a sec.” He pushed the screen of his phone, allowing the speaker to connect. “Alright, wild boy. Say goodnight to your mum.”

“Mum, momma, mum.” Ivan's voice filled the room. “I love you.”

“I love you, too, Ivan. Are you being a good boy?”

“Uh huh. I love you. Good night.”

“Good night, wild boy. I love you.”

“Night dad.”

“Good night, I love you. I'm going to be back soon, you go to bed and I will see you first thing in the morning.”

“Okay. Oh, dad, can Kal sleep in my room tonight?” Ivan was fond of the large black and white American Akita. Henry laughed.

“Of course he can. You and Kal go to bed, now.”

“Okay, bye.” A little too quickly, Ivan hung up the phone. Henry laughed at the eagerness, he would talk to his mother when he got back to the house. Making sure that Ivan and his dog had gone to bed as they were told, with no fuss.

"Can you believe he is growing this fast? My god where has that time gone?" Henry rubbed his hands against his face. His mustache and subtle stubble scratching his palms.

"Time is a cruel mistress." Rubbing her hands on her shorts, Nell stood. "Drink? I have a bottle of Johnnie Walker."

"Of course you do." Smirking, Henry shifted on the side of the bed. “I had a look at some of these designs, by the way. They're magnificent. My god, Nell, you are so talented.”

“You're saying that to be nice,”

Shaking his head, Henry accepted the glass, resting it on his knee. “No, I am saying it because its true. You are one of the most talented costumers that I had ever met. Are you enjoying the job?”

“I love it.” Nell smiled, leaning against the large wooden desk in the corner. “The work is great, the people are amazing, and Ivan is really enjoying it. I'm glad we went.”

“Good, that's good. He talks about it, a lot. He really seems to love being there. I'm glad. Once things settle, I am going to try and come visit. I kind of miss it, Dublin.”

“You should.” She smiled fighting the urge to scoff and roll her eyes. Henry was always busy. He'd make it to Dublin, when Hell froze over. “So, how is work coming on this new character.”

“I can't say much, but I can say that I will be happy when I can shave.” He rubbed the mustache expertly. “It's not as bad as some of the beards that I've had to grow, but it's not my favourite look.”

“You look good with a beard. I know you hate them, but you do.”

Leaning forward to set his glass on the bedside table, Henry licked the whiskey off of his lips. “I'm glad to have that compliment.”

“Sure.” Nell nodded, tipping her glass to finish the drink. “Another?”

“Uh, I'm good.” Henry motioned to his glass. Rubbing his hands across his jeans, he furrowed his brow. “I've been thinking, since I am fairly busy the next few months, what if I keep Ivan for a few extra days? Once you leave, I will take him back to London with me, until I have to go.”

Shifting on the bed, her face warm from the second glass of whiskey, Nell sniffled and cleared her throat. “What about school?”

“What about it? He isn't going to miss much, is he? They're nearly finished up and I don't know how long it will be, until I see him. Possibly not until Christmas.”

All he wanted was to spend a little time with his son, was that so hard? His next move would have to be calculated, Nell had been known to stat arguments over less. If Henry wanted to avoid a shouting match, he would have to go about this carefully. Reaching for his glass, he downed the remaining contents in one large gulp. Sighing.

“I want to hang out with him a little. It wouldn't be more than three days extra. Then you get some time alone, as well. Nell, I know that you need a bit of a break. You work so hard and take care of Ivan, please.”

“If you want to, then I suppose I can't really say no. What kind of mother would I be, if I didn't let you see him?”

“Don't say things like that, please.” Henry reached out, his hand taking hers. Gently stroking the back of her hand with his thumb. “You are a wonderful mum. You know that.”

“Sometimes, I feel like I could do better. I really do.” Nell shrugged, allowing Henry to continue holding her hand.

“All parents feel that way, I am sure. I know that I feel like that, all the time. I guess it's natural, always wanting to do better, to be better, for our children.”

There he went again. There were times when Nell could not stand to be near him, other times she wanted to be as close as possible. Damn it. Watching him talk about Ivan and the few extras days they would be together, Henry's eyes lit up. His smile broad and the enthusiasm in his voice was one that dictated proud father. Nell nodded, only because she felt it was appropriate to the conversation.

Henry continued to chatter about how he wanted to take Ivan to a new exhibit at the Natural History Museum, in London. Leave it to the father and son, finding a day at the museum to be high on the list of fun. Nell sighed, continuing to half listen, half gaze at Henry in awe. One thing she loved – well love could be a strong word – adored? Enjoyed? About Henry was how much he loved Ivan.

Mid sentence about some Sir David Attenborough documentary that he'd watched with Ivan; Nell couldn't help it any longer. Leaning in, without warning, she grabbed Henry's face turning it to her and kissing him. Lips connecting, she stopped and jumped back as if hit by an electric shock.

Clearing his throat, Henry rubbed the back of his neck, but not pulling back. “I didn't know that the National Geographic was that exciting.”

“I'm sorry.” Hiding her face in her hands, Nell shook her head. Oh that had been a mistake. She had absolutely no right. None. Henry was crazy, if he didn't get up right now and walk out. If he was angry, then she deserved that.

Blushing, Nell shook her head. “Henry, I shouldn't have.”

“I'm certainly not going to complain.” He shrugged, leaning in his arm sliding around her shoulder. Nell glanced up, getting the nerves to look at him. Oh she had fucked up. “Next time, I would like some warning though.”

“Warning? Next time?”

“Hmm, yes. Kind of like this, close your eyes.” Henry instructed pulling her closer and kissing her. Nell sighed her body melting against him. She loved the way his lips felt on hers. Soft, with a slight force.

Straddling his waist, her arms wrapped around his neck, Nell's fingers laced together. Her lips leaving his, tracing along his jaw, nearing the sweet spot below his ear. A slight nip and he was an unraveling mess. Henry nuzzled his face into her hair, she smelled amazing. Comforting and warm. A groan erupted from deep in his throat, as predicted she had gone straight for that spot.

“Nell, Nell,” Henry cleared his throat, holding her at arm's length, “Janelle, stop.” Looking for any sort of sign that she truly felt that this wasn't a good idea, he sucked in a breath. “Are you sure about this? Because if we continue, I won't stop until...”

“I am.” She nodded firmly, “I don't want you to stop. I don't want to stop. Oh god, Henry. Please.”

“I need to know that you truly, absolutely want to do this.”

“If you don't stop talking and bend me over, I am going to kick you out and do this myself. Please, stop talking. If I didn't want this, I wouldn't have started it.”

A deep rumbling laugh followed, Henry rolled his eyes. God, she was something else. Who was he to deny a gorgeous woman what she wanted? Would this come back to haunt him? Probably. Did he care? Not much. Come morning they would once again go their separate ways, but that didn't matter right now. Right now, he could pretend that he had everything he wanted. And what he wanted was her.

Pulling her to him, Henry kissed her hard. Nell moaned, the force of the kiss was nearly dizzying. Arms around his neck, she rubbed her body against his, trying to grasp the friction that was created when she started to grind herself against his thighs.

“Henry,”

“Hold on, you need patience.” He brushed a bit of hair out of her face, “all in good time.”

Nell squealed when he stood, her legs desperately scrambling to hold onto him. In a futile attempt she huffed, when he let her go, standing in front of him pouting. Unbuttoning his shirt, Henry smirked giving her a heated stare. “Well, are you going to get on the bed or make me do all the work? Shorts off.”

Sliding the mesh shorts down her ass and along her legs, Nell made a bit of a show letting them pool at her feet. Stepping out, as slowly as possible, while lifting the old tshirt from her body. Allowing it to go where it would, as she dropped it. Sitting back on the bed, she could feel her heart in her throat and her stomach where her heart should be.

“Lie back.” Henry instructed, kneeling at the edge of the bed. Arms around her thighs, guiding her to him, he studied her for a moment. She was trembling as his fingers slid across her thighs, positioning her in just the right way.

“Oh god, Hen-Henry.” Nell's mouth was suddenly dry and her voice hoarse. His hot breath between her legs was tormenting her, in unimaginable ways. In anticipation she bucked her hips forward, trying to clench her thighs. Holding her knees with his shoulders, Henry chuckled.

“Eager.”

“Please.”

“You are...” He lingered, kissing the inside of her leg. “Gorgeous. Look at you.” He brushed his thumb against her. Nell whimpered trying to push further. “Hold on, hold on.”

“Why are you teasing me?”

“Because I want to enjoy the view, for a moment.” He shrugged, her legs lifting gently. A hand on her lower abdomen, as if holding her in place, he used the other to gently tease and trace along her calf. Without warning, his lips attached to the most sensitive part of her body with his mustache adding an extra sensation, Nell bucked her hips hard, shoving his face further between her thighs.

Nell's head was swimming, it had been a while since she'd felt this good from such an act. Sure, she'd had the odd date here and there, semi-serious relationships, but nobody could do this the way Henry could. He was a fucking magician, she was certain of it. Humming against her mound, Henry couldn't hide the laughter in his eyes, when she began to squirm and wiggle against his face. She was desperate and he was going to prolong this as much as he could.

Sucking her clit, his tongue generously lapping at her, he thoroughly enjoyed the show. Pushing his head as far down as she could, Nell was nearly in tears each time he leaned in, his mustache tickling in just the right way. Oh god, she gasped trying hard to find release. Henry was cunning, backing off at the right moments.

“Henry,” She whined, threading her fingers through his hair. “Don't tease me, I really need you to finish.”

“Stop being so impatient.” He was teasingly stern. Pushing her hands away, he locked his fingers with hers, holding them at her side. Lifting his head, he smirked, kissing up her body ending with another dizzying kiss. Nell sucked on his tongue, freeing her hands from his, she tugged him closer, pulling at fistfuls of hair.

Cleaning herself from his tongue and lips, she sighed. “I'm going to need more than that.”

“You're sure?” Henry paused, holding his weight on his forearms, resting above her. His jeans still on, he could feel the strain against the denim.

“Jeans, off.” She demanded, sitting up to watch. Shivering against the slight chill, her breasts on display giving him the perfect view of her erect nipples. Nell blushed under his gaze. She was not the tight, toned, and perky body she once was. She wasn't out of shape, by any means, but compared to Henry...

“You are gorgeous.” Henry complimented, his jeans on the floor, boxers being pushed down to join them. Stepping out of his pants, he stood at the side of the bed, in all his glory.

Nell licked her lips, reaching out to take him in her hand. Hissing under her touch, Henry involuntarily bucked his hips forward into her hand. Rubbing the head, Nell intently watched Henry while she leaned in taking him fully in her mouth.

“Fuck, Nelly.”

“Hmm,” She hummed, sliding her head back along his length. Hand wrapped around him, stroking in place of her mouth. Bobbing her head back down, she swirled her tongue around the base. He nearly choked her the first time she'd ever gone down on him. Oh how long ago that felt.

Dragging her tongue against his length, she felt her core tighten, with each moan Henry gave. His slight salty taste mixed with the aftertaste of the Johnnie Walker, Nell inhaled deeply through her nose, hollowing her cheeks around him. Gripping the back of her head, Henry tried to not force her too hard, as he began to guide her movement.

Happy to go along with what he needed to feel good, Nell allowed him control over her guidance. Her finger nails grazing the back of his thighs, she mentally checked the small victory when he threw his hips forward at the sensation of her wrapped around him and her nails on his skin.

“Good girl,” Henry mumbled, his head lulling back, his chest rising rapidly. “Keep it up, just like that. Oh shit,”

Nell's chest swelled a little, she could still make him feel good, even after all of this time apart. That was not something she would take lightly, even if this shouldn't be happening. Oh fuck, who cared? They were two consenting adults. Henry's legs quivered, his hands unsteady stroking the back of her head.

“Nell,”

“Hmm?” She glanced up at him. His face soft and his jaw slack, she could feel him tightening. The perfect time to stop her actions. “Not yet,” She smirked, wiping her hand across her chin, drool gone. “Fair is fair.”

“Jesus,” Henry grumbled. He had been so fucking close, the knot in the pit of his stomach clenched Slowing his breathing, he took a moment to think of anything else. Laundry? Running? How much longer until he had to renew his passport?

“Henry?”

“Yeah?” He snapped his head to look at Nell.

“Are we going to stand here all night, or...” She shrugged, a devious smirk on her face. Laying back on the bed, she curled her finger beckoning him to her.

“You're still sure about this?” Henry asked. His eyes on her, waiting to see if she had any hint of doubt or hesitation.

“I don't have a condom, but I'm clean. It's not like I'm getting pregnant, so....” If she were to get pregnant, there was going to be on hell of a hefty lawsuit against that surgeon.

“You're sure? I know that I'm...but I don't have.”

“if you don't want to, then I understand.”

“I do, though, but...”

Nell shook her head. “No buts. If you want me, then I'm yours.”

“Fuck, you're making this hard.”

Giggling, Nell glance down. “I think we're beyond things being hard.”

His body betraying him, Henry cleared his throat, she certainly had a point. Fuck it. What did they have to lose? Unless this, some how, came back to bite them. No, no he had to stop that. Give in, enjoy what was happening. It had been too long since he'd been able to watch her in such bliss. Bliss that he was responsible for.

“You're sure?”

Nell nodded siting up, opening her arms, “Come here.”

On the edge of the bed, Henry sighed, his large frame leaning into her. Nell held him for a moment, stroking his hair, the feel of his warmth against her sent shivers through her spine. Pushing him back on the bed, she bit her bottom lip, waiting for the go ahead. Henry gave her a slight nod, adjusting himself on the bed to get comfortable. Straddling his hips, Nell lifted herself to slowly take him.

Sheathing him inch by inch, Nell groaned at the fullness. This was her favourite part, taking him to the end, feeling him stretch her. Rocking her hips forward, she countered the motion sliding them back in the same tantalizing pace. Henry held her hips, pushing his up to meet her. Nell squeaked and giggled. She loved the way he hit all the right spots.

“You can touch me, don't be shy.” Nell winked, lifting her arms and crossing them above her head, allowing him a full view of her breasts. “Go on.” She encouraged.

His large hands cupping her breasts, Henry softly rolled her hardening nipples between his fingers, giving on a slight flick when she moved herself up on his length. Close to letting him slide out, she moved back down, her ass grinding against him.

The way her body moved against his was mesmerizing. Massaging her supple skin, from her breasts down her sides, one hand settling on her ass and the other on her hip. Henry loved the shape, even if she had changed a little since having Ivan. God she was stunning.

Hastening her pace, Nell rocked back and forth, up and down. Henry closed his eyes feeling every bit of movement, each clench. Taking in the sounds of her breathing, mixed with his, her small moans not going unnoticed.

“Henry,” She whispered, biting her bottom lip, leaning forward to touch her lips against his. “Please,”

Without having to be asked twice, he moved swiftly, turning them over to pin her beneath him. Nell sighed and stretched her arms over her head, the pull of her muscles caused another shiver. Her head now against the pillow, she reached, tracing the lines of his face with her fingertip.

“I don't know that I can be as slow as you were.” Henry nipped her finger. Holding back on his desire to pound her into the bed.

“Then don't.” Nell batted her eye lashes at him.

Somehow that was all he needed, that tiny bit of permission. Picking up the pace, Henry grunted. Nell moaned drawing her knees upward, allowing him an even better vantage to this position. As if the pent up emotions from the last few years, hours, minutes had been released the couple were lost in the sensation of skin on skin. The feeling of sparks and electricity coursing through them. Connecting them.

“Fuck, Janelle.” Henry hissed, his arm locked into position on either side of her head, keeping him from tumbling on top of her.

“Henry,” She squealed splaying her hands against his chest, tugging at the soft hairs. “Oh god. Please, don't stop. My god, oh fuck.”

“You are fucking amazing. Fuck, look at you.” Kissing her roughly, he sighed, steadying his pace. His hips slapping hers, Nell shook slightly her soft sobs of pleasure were enough to send him to an end.

Shaking with pleasure, Nell gasped trying to bring herself down from the high. Henry moaned, his head back and chest heaving. It had been a while since he had felt that good. Nell laid with her legs hooked around his thighs, no desire to move. Collapsing with his head on her chest, Henry allowed his body to rest. Sweaty and sticky, they laid tangled together. Neither one wanting to break the feeling.

Dosing in and out, Nell was the first to move. Her body growing heavy with Henry still on top of her. She needed to move, before seizing up. Pushing his head to the side, she giggled and kissed the tip of her nose when he lazily looked up.

“I need to pee,”

“Hmph.” Henry nodded, slowly rolling over. Allowing her to escape. Laying flat on the bed, while she scurried off to the bathroom, Henry pushed himself up off of the bed. He should be getting back to his parents, back to Ivan.

All thoughts of moving were squashed, when Nell came back, climbing in beside him. Her clothes still on the floor. Her body was comforting against his. “Hi,” she whispered, sliding in under his arm.

“Nell?” Henry laid with his arm around her shoulder.

“Huh?” Nell grunted, her face buried in his chest.

“I should head back.”

“If you want to. You can stay, I don't mind.” Nell yawned. Her eyes closing.

“Okay, but only for a little while.” Henry agreed, closing his eyes. In a few minutes, he would get up, shower, and head back.

With a start, Henry woke, a loud banging noise rattling him. Looking around the dark room, he squinted to find the source of the noise. Hearing someone whispering at a distance, Henry laid in bed, listening. Against him, Nell stirred, but didn't wake. Someone in the hall was talking, no doubt they had been the source of the banging. He had fell asleep, Nell wrapped against him.

Looking at his watch, Henry frowned. 4am. If he left right now, he could be back before anybody woke. If he left now, he risked Kal barking and waking the house. If he waited, he would risk walking in and having to explain himself to one or more person. Of course he could tell them that he'd ran into some old friends, had some drinks and stayed on a sofa somewhere. Too drunk to drive.

Shifting in bed, Nell sighed, her arm around his waist she snuggled in closer. She was content, who was Henry to try and disturb her sleep? He would wait an hour or two, before he made his departure. So what if he waltzed in, being faced by one of his brothers, or even his mother. He was an adult, if he wanted to stay out all night enjoying the company of a fantastic woman, then he would do just that.

Kissing the top of Nell's head, Henry smiled, sinking down further into the covers, closing his eyes.

Tag List Chat

#henry cavill #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill smut #oddsnendshenryfics

102 notes · View notes

sttngfashion · 3 years

Text

5.26 and 6.1 - Time’s Arrow

Oh my god. Y’all. It’s a new Fashion It So post. In the year of our Picard 2020. Yes.

For literal years, Charlie and I have been like UGH WE NEED TO DO TIME’S ARROW PARTS 1 AND 2 BUT IT’S JUST SUCH A MONSTER.

Well, I’m doing a complete rewatch of the series with my partner and we just got to these two, so IT IS TIME.

We open in a cave in San Francisco, where Data and Picard are checking something out:

Rent for the cave is $6,000 per month

Showing them around is this guy in a Science Outfit:

He’s ready to go night biking

We’ve seen this look before in both Silicon Avatar and Devil’s Due, and it’s functional, yet cute. Basically a windbreaker in jumpsuit form.

They find a couple of items in the cave, including a pocket watch from 1889 and also:

I left my head in San Francisco

IT’S DATA’S HEAD!!! And it’s been there for FIVE HUNDRED YEARS. What could have caused this? And why is Data’s head so absolutely terrifying?

Is that fondant

This head is, in a word, haunting. The 2020 of heads.

Data and Geordi chat in Ten-Forward about what the presence of Data’s head in the cave means. Data says it means he’s mortal; that someday he will die, and that’s comforting. Spoiler alert: that’s not what it means. But it’s a nice conversation.

Also, Guinan is here!!!

Merlot My God!!

Or maybe: Burgundy-lightful!! Or perhaps: De-Crimson-alize Sex Work!! Okay that last one was a stretch but I really think I missed my calling as a nail polish shade namer.

Anyway, she’s here in her classic look of a pizza-sized hat and a flowing gown/coat/top/robe. The collar here is a little too close to a mock turtleneck for my liking and honestly - this is a little staid for our friend Guinan. I want a TEXTURE or a SWEEP or some WIDE RIBBING or some PLEATS. Don’t worry, though...she will get plenty more later.

Then there’s some plot which frankly we DO NOT HAVE TIME to get into but let’s just say: the away team goes to a planet, there’s a temporal disturbance, and Data ends up here:

Huge mood

Where are we? Or should I say WHEN are we??

Well that old-timey font is a good clue...also the horse

Are we in the Old West land of an off-brand Disneyworld? Are we going to ride something called Large Lightning Mesa Train Tracks? What colorful characters will we meet here?

Winner of 1893’s Mustache Medal

This type of ‘stache is called a Fu Manchu, after the character Dr. Fu Manchu. It’s not...a great look? But it is memorable, which is sometimes enough. He’s also wearing a simple black cap, probably made of silk. He’s keeping it cazh.

So where are we?

SAN FRANCISCO, OPEN YOUR GOLDEN GATE / YOU’LL LET NOBODY WAIT / OUTSIDE YOUR DOOR

Yes, it’s San Francisco. And it’s *eyes popping out of head like a cartoon wolf seeing a busty babe* 1893!!!! That temporal disturbance was...disturbing.

So who else do we have hanging out?

Please check out our Vaudeville act, Knit Cap ‘n’ Bowly

These dudes understand those famous Bay Area MICROCLIMATES, amirite? We’ve got a Henley. We’ve got a buttondown. We’ve got a vest. We’ve got a coat. No matter which way the thermometer decides to go, THEY ARE READY. Also loving the pop of forest green on Knit Cap’s knit cap.

We also have a 49er:

No, it’s not Steve Young. I googled “famous 49ers” to complete this joke so if there is a more famous 49er please let me know

It’s a literal 49er. Since it’s 1893, this guy’s been hanging around in town for a while, and he’s also familiar with the layering techniques one must master if one is to conquer the Bay Area’s climate. He also has a kicky Colonel Sanders-type tie. He asks Data for money and gives him a few panhandling tips. He’s chill. We like him. But don’t get too attached if you know what I mean!!!!

Data decides he needs somewhere to stay, so he finds a hotel:

Brian.

Why is this so funny to me. Brian. Why would you name your hotel Brian. Brian!!!! I know it’s a last name but like...Brian. HOTEL BRIAN.

This bellhop’s name is not Brian:

Where’s your hat, bro

He’s giving us a classic bellhop look, complete with too many buttons. He gives Data the very important information that there’s a poker game happening in the back of the hotel, which means: Data is about to be RICH rich.

The poker game includes a few good looks:

Louie Anderson IS Wolverine IN a Lands’ End barn coat

Two plaids? Sir...I salute you

Colonel Sanders Goes to Carnaval

Data, of course, wipes the floor with them so hard that he wins their clothes:

Didn’t get that barn coat tho

Yes, that’s the actual vest and the actual hat of those guys from the previous scene. Oh, I love it. I love Data in a vest over his uniform and I love Data with a feather in his cap. Let’s call it macaroni.

Meanwhile, out on the street, the plot is happening:

Beige: inescapable

This is our first taste of the decadent 1890’s sleeves that appear in this episode, and these aren’t even the best sleeves!! These are an amuse-bouche of sleeves. An armuse-bouche, if you will.

Anyway, these two are aliens disguised as humans who are here to steal the 49er’s life energy.

Pew pew pew

I told you not to get attached!!!

Back on the Enterprise, Guinan is doing mixology:

She would never call it something as stupid as mixology though

She tells Picard that he needs to go check out the temporal disturbance, too, even though captains don’t normally go on away missions, and then she gives him this look:

It’s that serious

When Guinan looks at you like this, you do what she says.

Now this outfit is much better than the earlier one. We have some pleated sleeves, which I didn’t even think was a thing you could DO. We have some sort of functional(?) strap(??) across the front. We even have matching fingerless gloves which always make a look A LOOK. And if Picard wasn’t sure whether he needed to go on this away mission, she then gives him THIS look:

Okay now it’s REALLY serious

Back in 1893, Data is making something:

It’s actually just a really complicated and large music box that plays “I Left My Head in San Francisco”

He’s gotten his hands on some more period-appropriate clothing, including a bow tie and a vest. Since he’s not wearing arm garters and his sleeves appear to be the correct length for his arms, we can conclude that the shirt was custom-made, not ready-made, because Data is now a baller due to his poker earnings.

Then, Data sees this in the paper:

I know her!! From work!!!!

Yes, it’s Guinan. In 1893. In a hat!!!!

We cut to the literary reception, which is honestly not as well-attended as I thought it would be, considering it got a GIANT photo of Guinan on page THREE of the paper, but okay. And who should we spy there but:

You’ll love my secret blend of 11 herbs and spices

No, it’s not Colonel Sanders. (Sorry, I really have Colonel Sanders on the brain because of that Lifetime movie.) It’s Samuel Clements, AKA Mark Twain. I had an English teacher in high school who explained the origin of his pseudonym (it indicates a mark of two fathoms, aka twelve feet, on a steamboat) and for some reason she shouted MAAAARK TWAAAAAIN when she told us that story so now her delivery of that line is in my head until I die I guess.

Anyway, it’s Mark Twain.

He’s wearing his iconic white linen suit with a black bow tie, and he’s also wearing a lot of prosthetics, because the actor playing him (Jerry Hardin, AKA Deep Throat from The X-Files AKA Melora Hardin AKA Jan Levinson-Gould’s dad) (was that too many AKAs) (you get it, right?) didn’t look enough like Mark Twain, I guess? In conclusion: what if eyebrow wigs were a thing?

Twain is having a chit chat with “Madame Guinan,” who is wearing what can only be called a sumptuous gown:

It’s 11:30 and the gown is sumptin’ sumptin’

There are so many ELEMENTS to this look! First of all: the color. Royal purple. Fit for a queen. Appropriate.

Then: those sleeves! These sleeves are known as “leg of mutton sleeves” because they KIND OF look like a leg of mutton. Have you ever seen a leg of mutton? I haven’t. I’ve only seen these sleeves. Plus they have a stripe?? No, I don’t know why, but I LOVE IT.

The cuffs and the cravat bring this from “dress” to “lewk.” Top it all off with this hat and you have a true 1893 mood.

What bird is that feather even from

We get a few good extra looks in this scene as well:

Pink Lady is NOT wearing a corset

Look, sometimes you don’t have enough period-appropriate undergarments for all the background people and that’s fine. But I WILL notice.

Is that Loretta Lynn

I am loving all of this! That purple dress is fantastic, those stripes? I die. Military man has some fun flair on his shoulder, and there is a dude in a beautiful turban back there. Plus, another Black lady in addition to Guinan and That One Ensign Who Is On The Bridge Sometimes.

Data rolls in to the literary event in a different suit with a CRAVAT:

Craving a cravat

Data is like “we serve together on the same starship in the 24th century” and Guinan is like “huh” but then she’s like “okay” which...I’m not sure if I would believe that? But let’s just say it’s fine.

Over in the 24th century, the literal entire bridge crew is checking out the temporal disturbance and I DON’T LIKE THIS AT ALL:

Blue Man Group...on ACID

These beings are like ghosts but also like Dr. Manhattan but also like pure energy.

Then everyone goes through the temporal disturbance AND THE SEASON ENDS.

Fortunately for you, this post will continue...right now.

Okay, so we’re back in San Francisco in 1893. You can tell by the horses:

Also the fruit carts

Samuel Clemens is strolling around with a reporter, telling him that he has a great story for him that involves time travelers and, like, protecting the nation.

Here’s the thing about this episode’s version of Mark Twain: he’s kind of a dick. Was the real Mark Twain kind of a dick? I just feel like Mark Twain should be JAZZED about meeting time travelers and not acting like a fuckin’ time cop* and trying to put the Enterprise crew on blast.

Anyway I love his double-breasted vest.

See my vest

The reporter’s hat is technically period-accurate, but that style is SO associated with the 1930s-1950s that I would have gone with something else. He looks cute though.

Meanwhile, Data is wearing a three-piece suit:

My positronic olfactory synapses are interpreting something as...a fart

I hate brown, but this is fine.

Additionally, the beige baddies from before are back and this time, they’ve got a SNAKE CANE:

Love the snake cane, hate how they suck the life out of people

But we are not here for them, we are here to see our faves in period clothing. Our first look is at Riker, who is dressed as an actual cop, not a time cop like Mark Twain:

The past just had...so many buttons

I guess if you’re a time-traveling white man there are worse disguises than a cop. But WHERE DID HE GET THIS UNIFORM? I choose to believe that he found a cop with a similar large handsome body to his own and beat the shit out of him and stole his clothes. Now we can all enjoy imagining a cop being beat up.

The badge that Riker is wearing is a great historical detail; the SFPD started wearing them in 1886 and are reportedly the first law enforcement agency to have worn the seven-pointed star, which is now a common shape among sheriff’s departments across the United States.

But let’s move on to a better look: Dr. Beverly Crusher:

Curlz MT

Okay, now I have more questions. Beverly obviously wouldn’t beat someone up for their clothes, so where did SHE get HER outfit? And who did her hair? Did she do her OWN hair? Where did she get a curling iron? Does she know how to use a curling iron? Was it one of those ones that’s actually made of iron that you have to heat up in a fireplace?

We will get answers to zero (0) of these questions.

We actually get a much better look at her dress later, so let’s focus on that cloak!!! I love it and I also love her hat. Okay, I guess I had less to say about those than I thought.

Bev and Will, along with the rest of the officers, have somehow procured a room/apartment in some lady’s lodging house. It’s cute!

They gave it 5 stars on AirBnB

This also raises questions. How did they get this room? How many bedrooms does it have? Are they sharing one large bed? If so, who has to sleep crossways at the foot of the bed and why is it Geordi? We will get zero answers to these questions as well, so let’s move on to arguably the hottest costume in this two-parter:

I’ll be in Holodeck 4

Whewwwwwww. He’s giving us a rolled sleeve. He’s giving us a casual tweed vest. The pants? They’re perfect. And he KNOWS how that slouch is working. It’s working VERY well. But the Irish landlady? She’s having NONE OF IT.

Absolutely NO nonsense

She needs the rent, but Picard charms her and she leaves. So I guess that’s how they got the room. Her look is knitwear-forward:

Eileen Fisher does sound like an Irish name

She’s got a shawl AND a cardigan! The cozy factor is OFF THE CHARTS. She also has a brooch, because a touch of fancy is always welcome. I will say that her hair is a little more fashion-forward than I’d expect for a woman of her age and station. This is straight up 1890s hair, and she would probably still be rocking an 1860s look, which isn’t as sweepy and would likely involve more braids. Still, she looks lovely.

Geordi is also here looking dapper:

Make the collar as high as you can. I want to be sliced open by my own collar

You CAN go wrong with a three-piece suit, but it’s difficult to. He can’t wear his visor, so he has some kicky shades which we’ll get a better look at in a sec.

Back at the Hotel Brian (lol), the bellboy (who we learn in this scene is Jack London, inspired to be a writer by Mark Twain [citation needed]) lets Mark Twain into Data’s room and allows him to look around unsupervised. This is very bad hotel management.

Great Scott

Then Data and Guinan show back up, and Mark Twain hides in an armoire.

One short day in the emerald brocade

I think one reason I love Guinan’s looks so much, both in the 24th and the 19th century, is that our color palette is very similar. We’re both winters. Bold jewel tones are the vibe. This one is in a beautiful deep green fabric with what looks like a velvet flocking pattern on it. The collar is also velvet, and I love that sleeve with a flounce on top like there wasn’t already enough fucking fabric on the sleeve so they just added a random piece to be like “yes, bitch. I’m a sleeve.”

Naturally, the hat is also jaunty af:

San Francisco’s hottest milliner is: Madame Guinan

This hat has everything: feathers, netting, a brim, an angle that makes you think it’s going to fall off but it doesn’t. We stan.

Meanwhile, Picard is setting up a sensor in a hospital while wearing a hat:

I’m bowled over

We haven’t even asked where Picard got these clothes, but I would like to point out that he’s dressed as a lower-class guy, while Riker is a cop, and Geordi looks like a gentleman. Was there even a discussion they all had about how they would disguise themselves? Was Picard like “I just really want to wear a beat-up bowler hat” and since he’s the captain, they extrapolated from there? This episode is NOT CONCERNED about any of this. They all have clothes, end of story.

Bev even has TWO outfits!!

Hello nurse!!!!

I love this look. She still has her unlikely hairstyle happening, which means her nurse’s cap is sitting atop her voluminous hairstyle. (Not very practical, but realistic!) She’s sporting a simple striped dress and a button-on apron. (Look closely and you can see the two buttons holding the apron to the dress.) The fabric underneath might be cotton seersucker, but it’s likely a lightweight cotton or linen twill. You can see how closely her look matches these nurses from a similar time period:

Hello nurses!!!!

Deanna is also in this scene and this episode, but you wouldn’t know it from what she’s given to do. HUGE SHOCKER: TROI NOT GIVEN ENOUGH TO DO IN AN EPISODE. 🙃

She still looks beautiful:

Why aren’t capelets more popular

We never get a really GREAT look at her whole outfit, but I can tell you that it has a capelet, it’s in the red family, and the hat has a lot of business going on. For those reasons: approved. It has a flounce in the back too:

More fabric = more wealth

Sometimes I think about just how much fabric it took to make these old-timey dresses and I’m like...how did anyone get anything done?? It takes me like 4 weeks to finish a pair of leggings and those have like 5 seams and I own a serger. These historical bitches were sewing whole ass dresses in no time at all.

Okay, so Bev is in this hospital and here come some more energy-stealing aliens, disguised as healthcare professionals this time:

I cannot take a medical professional wearing a LIGHT BROWN TOP HAT seriously, sorry

Bev AND this energy-stealing alien have BOTH managed to get their hands on the SAME nurse’s uniform?? I guess in the case of the alien, she is a shape-shifter, so she got her clothes from...that. And her hair.

I hate this light brown top hat. If you’re going to wear a top hat, don’t DISRESPECT IT by making it BROWN, but if you’re going to make it brown, make it a good brown, like chocolate. Stupid energy-stealing aliens.

There’s a skirmish, the energy-stealing aliens disappear, and the real cops show up:

MOUSTACHE

Of course, the cops showing up is bad, because when has a cop showing up ever made a bad situation better? Never. Defund the police, but don’t defund handlebar mustaches. Those can stay.

Fortunately, Data has gotten a ping on that machine he was building before and shows up on a motherfucking HORSE:

Brent just wanted to show off

He’s back in his brown striped suit and red tie. Okay.

Everyone returns to the boarding house to suss out the situation, and we get a look at what Riker is rocking underneath his cop jacket:

Suspend me daddy

You can see very clearly here how the collar is not actually attached to the shirt. This was a thing people in the olden days did so they could wear their shirt for multiple days in a row and just switch out the collar and cuffs so they looked clean. As someone who is wearing the same sweatshirt for the third day in a row, I support this method. (If you’re interested on more info about collars, here is a very enjoyable article about them.)

We are also blessed with a better look at Deanna’s sleeves and bodice:

Black lace cuffs? Decadent!!!

You can also see Geordi’s shades, which suit him really nicely. One thing I’ve been enjoying on this rewatch is just how well LeVar Burton can act without having his eyes visible. He’s great. Let’s just all think about how great LeVar Burton is for a second

And also Bev’s dress:

I legitimately want this dress

I don’t think those buttons are functional. Can you imagine how annoying THAT would be? But I am absolutely in love with this dress. Two paisleys, Beverly???? A goddess. I’m also dying for that brooch with the chain. A+ look all around, great work.

Finally, FINALLY, Guinan meets the rest of the crew:

When you meet someone you won’t actually know for 500 years

She is wearing a hat that looks like a toilet paper cozy. Did your grandma have one of these? They’re so stupid and I love them so much.

Picard and Guinan meet for what is the first time for her, but not the first time for him, and honestly it is...sensual?????

If I got a m’lady from P. Stew I wouldn’t even mind

Patrick and Whoopi truly do some nice work in this ep. But we are here to yell about clothes, so: LOOK AT THIS DRESS ON AN EXTRA:

Gimme dat dress

I just want that dress to wear around my house. I legitimately bought an 18th century costume dress to do just that, so don’t think I won’t literally do this.

OKAY, WE ARE ALMOST TO THE END.

The crew, plus Guinan, go back to the cave where this all started:

Cave Club, the only club that meets in a cave

We get a nice look at the bodice of Guinan’s dress here and guess what: MORE BUTTONS. Buttons on the lapels, and also buttons on the front panel with the pointy top. I wonder if she has multiple front panels for that dress in different colors, like a Swatch watch.

Unbeknownst to them, Mark Twain followed them!! Then there’s a scuffle with the energy-stealing aliens during which a few things happen:

Data’s head flies off

Mark Twain gets sucked into the temporal disturbance

Guinan gets hurt

Picard stays behind to make sure Guinan is okay

So we end up with Mark Twain on the Enterprise, where he sees Worf, and he’s like:

Buh-WHAT

Worf is also confused:

This is...extremely perplexing

We have a few more looks back on the Enterprise, including Regular Guinan:

ShoulderSpreads™: The Bed Spread for Your Shoulders

I love love LOVE this outfit. The color is perfect, the shoulderspreads are perfect, the front draping is perfect. It looks like a velvet housedress from the 1960s except FANCY which is kind of my ideal aesthetic. And it’s red (my fave).

We get a quick glimpse at the barber uniform:

Bitch let me pass, idc if you wrote Huck Finn

This barber does. not. give. a. fuck!!!!

Geordi reattaches Data’s head, the one they already had, which means this whole thing was a ding dang closed loop. The reattachment also kind of diminishes the whole conversation they had earlier about how Data’s head in the cave meant that Data could die someday, because...he didn’t. He still might, but his head is back and he’s fine now.

Meanwhile, Picard is still back in 1893 and they have to go get him, but only one person can come back through the temporal disturbance, so Mark Twain is like “duh I’ll go get him.”

And finally Guinan and Picard can talk about how their friendship spans 500 years!!!!

Hey girl

Hey

YOU’RE WELCOME

*abolish the police

#SEASON 5 #SEASON 6 #TNG #TNG FASHION #STAR TREK #STAR TREK FASHION

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sunnypogue · 4 years

Text

midsummers with hockey rafe (blurb)

requested by an anon who asked if i could write something about ward telling rafe to cover his hickeys at midsummers. obviously, had to make it coho!rafe.

enjoy!

you didn’t really know what you were getting yourself into when rafe invited you to midsummers.

it was spring semester, the two of you were in your roommates hammock that sagged on your front porch, mapping out your summer plans.

“so you’ll come stay with my family on hilton head for the fourth, right?” you asked, playing with his big, calloused fingers.

rafe made a sound of approval.

“we’ll have to book tickets for you to fly out, huh?” you continued, still fiddling with his hands.

rafe grunted, his baseball cap slipping forward onto his face.

you frowned, bending his index finger back just enough to startle him. “are you listening?”

“yes! fuck, leave my fingers alone, you brat.” he snatched his hand out of your grasp, shifting his hat back to sit properly on his head. “and to answer your question, because I was listening - no, I’ll just drive down.”

your eyes widened. “from huntsville? that’s going to take hours!”

rafe sighed. “no, I’ll be at my dad’s the week before. easier to drive.”

“you’re going home this summer?”

rafe didn’t really “go home” - at least, not the way you did. you looked forward to summers in your savannah home, having wine nights with your mom and barbecuing with your dad, relishing the time at home with your high school friends.

rafe only went home when he had to, his strained relationship with his father and stepmom making things less-than-pleasant when he would return to the outer banks for a couple weeks. he didn’t visit at all last summer, opting to split his time between your parents home and his place in huntsville.

rafe sighed again, deep & heavy. “yeah. I’ve got this...thing.”

you looked up at him, chin resting on his chest. “what thing?”

“it’s...god, it’s some stupid event my family goes to every year. basically a pissing contest to see who’s family is the most successful.” rafe removes his hat, rubbing his hand over his face. “my dad likes to win.”

you offered him a pout, going to rub your hand against his chin, letting your thumb run along the stubble that was coming in. “you have to go?”

rafe nodded. “yeah, I skipped last year only because I promised my dad I would come this year - wheez is 16, so it’s kinda a big year for her.” he gave a weak smile at the mention of his youngest sister. “sarah’s gonna be there too.”

“see! it’ll be worth it then. couple days with your sisters and then you can come hang with me and my fam in hilton head.” you nuzzled into his chest. “a tour of the carolinas.”

“I was actually hoping you would come with me.”

you popped your head up, eyes wide. “me?”

rafe rolled his eyes, “yes you. sarah’s bringing her boyfriend. figure it’s time for you to see where I grew up.”

and that’s how you found yourself flying up to the outer banks for a long weekend, a couple of gown options tucked away in your checked luggage, bikinis stowed in your carryon - you spent the whole flight fidgeting, beyond nervous about what was to come.

you had met ward a couple times - a little intimidating, and relatively unimpressed by anything rafe did. you didn’t mind that rafe didn’t go see him much - it always seemed to put him in this dark, sullen mood, one that could take days to pull him out of.

you were hoping to make it out of the weekend with minimal conflict between the father-son pair.

rafe was waiting at arrivals when you waltzed outside, grinning at the sight of your tan boyfriend leaning against his Jeep. you dropped your bags on the curb, opting to tackle him into a hug instead, giggling when he had to brace himself for impact.

“hi baby - missed you too.” he laughed, hands going to rest on your hips. “need help with those?” he gave a pointed look to your massive suitcases. you just smiled, offering him a quick kiss before flouncing into his passenger seat, letting him handle the heavy lifting.

your first interaction with the family at tannyhill (apparently rafe lived in a place where homes were old enough to have their own estate names) was mild - ward was charming, in his typical slimy way, rose offered you a grimace, before clacking away in her heels to “take a call,” and wheezie had barely let rafe slip into the foyer with your suitcases before she was asking him to buy her alcohol for some party later that night.

when you and rafe made it safely to the confines of his bedroom, he attempted to apologize.

“rafe, you don’t have to apologize.” you laughed, cupping his concerned face with your hands. “families are...well, you know.” you scrunched your eyebrows, trying to search for the right word. “family.”

rafe laughed, grabbing your wrists. “very insightful.”

the next day, rafe had a fitting, which you accompanied him to (your other option was pretending to make nice with rose while laying out at the pool - hard pass), giggling at his clear disdain for the whole situation.

“it’s so fucking stupid, babe.” he groaned for what had to be the tenth time that car ride, pulling into a spot in front of the tailors. “I probably have 50 suits I could wear, but god forbid I don’t match rose’s fucking color scheme.” he snapped his seat belt off, a hint of aggression peeking through.

you nodded, following him out of the car. “hey, if it makes you feel better, she’ll hate me more than you. I didn’t bring anything that matches the Cameron “color scheme.””

rafe turned to give you a look, hand blindly reaching for the door. “no one could hate you. you could wear a sack and people would adore you.”

you pulled a face. “shut up, you have to say that shit.”

“maybe, but it’s -“

“mr. cameron, here for the 2:30 appointment?” a tall, slim man appeared in front of y’all, tape measure around his neck.

rafe tugged on his shirt collar, letting out a small groan. “uh, yeah. that’s me.”

the man gave him a glance, before offering you a glare. “right, well, follow me. back here.”

you settled into a chair at the front of the store, fucking around on your phone. an hour went by before rafe emerged from the back, head peeking around the corner.

“hey babe!” you gingerly removed yourself from the chair, back stiff from your stationary position. “all done?”

rafe nodded, “yeah, I’ve gotta change out of it, but it’s ready to take home.”

you scrambled to your feet. “wait! let me see!”

rafe groaned, quickly looking behind him to see if the tailor was near by, before slowly emerging from around the corner. “it’s pretty fucking terrible.” he groaned.

you, on the other hand, were awestruck - there was your boyfriend, with his stache and overgrown hair, in all of his 6’3”, offseason bulked out glory, wearing a baby blue suit.

it should have been hilarious - but you were fucking salivating over it.

“uh, no it’s not.” you argued, walking up to grab the lapels of his jacket. “how the fuck do you make baby blue look this good?”

rafe grimaced. “babe, it’s awful. don’t lie.”

“oh really?” you smirked, peeking over his shoulder towards the empty dressing room. you started to walk backwards in that direction, tugging his hand as you gave him your best bedroom eyes. “why don’t you come in here and let me show you how much I like it.”

“babe!” rafe hissed, his head whirled to the left, checking to see if the tailor was in the vicinity, before looking back at you with raised eyebrows. “really?”

you nodded, biting your lip. “oh yeah, baby. never told me you were such a pretty boy.”

rafe grumbled, following you into the dressing room. “I’ll fuckin’ show you a pretty boy - c’mere.”

the next day, while waiting to take pictures with the cameron family, ward approached you and rafe at the wet bar, extending cocktails to you both.

you gratefully accepted, sucking down what tasted like a heavy handed greyhound, the vodka sitting in the back of your throat as ward barked instructions at rafe.

“we’re going to do the family first, rafe, and then we can get john and - what the fuck is that?”

you glanced up at the change in ward’s tone, straw slipping out from between your lips as ward tugged rafe’s shirt collar to expose a hickey, the deep purple spreading towards his collarbone.

“dad,” he started, knocking ward’s hand away to readjust his collar. “it’s-“

“rose!” ward yelled, turning away from rafe. “can you please come fix...this!” ward gestured at rafe wildly with his hand, throwing a glare at the two of you.

you were rigid, hand white-knuckling your drink, unsure what exactly to do in this situation.

“relax dad,” sarah huffed, grabbing her clutch as she pushed her way over to where y’all were standing. “c’mon, idiot, I’ve got something that can cover that up.” she rolled her eyes, poking at his neck.

rafe smacked her hand away. “quit.”

sarah ignored her brother, poking it once more before directing her attention to you. “what are you, part vampire?” she giggled, tugging your arm with her as she started up the stairs towards her room. “c’mon rafe,” she called out, voice almost singing. “gotta go cover up the evidence! people can’t know you have sex!”

you burst out laughing as at least three scandalized voices behind you yelled “sarah!”, rafe’s separate groan audible as he followed the two of you.

sarah leaned over as y’all entered her bedroom, voice whispering in your ear, “tux’s don’t hide shit - that’s why I usually go for the chest on john b,” she giggled.

you nodded, as if learning a deep and sacred practice - well, you supposed you kinda were.

“also,” she whispered, ignoring rafe’s call from behind to “stop corrupting his girlfriend,” and continuing, “third stall, men’s bathroom at the country club - doesn’t lock. learn from my mistakes. family bathroom is gonna be your best bet.”

“are you - are you scouting places for me to hook up with your brother tonight?” you hissed.

sarah shrugged, leading you into her room. “well, what else is there to do at midsummers?” she gave a grin, like the cat that got the cream. “john b and I call the golf restrooms.” she pushed your shoulders down, settling you to the bed, before turning her attention to her brother, who was sulking in the doorway.

“rafe! let me fix your hickey, you heathen!”

#rafe cameron #coho!rafe #rafe cameron imagine #outer banks #outer banks fic #outer banks imagine #rafe cameron fic #drew starkey

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limenysnocket · 3 years

Text

The Plan

Summary: It's your birthday (hooray!) and you still have to work (not so hooray). Nevertheless, you can still count on your friends to cheer you up, but not as much as your loveable boyfriend who insists you spend your birthday with him and a romantic dinner, rather than at a party your friends set up.

Warnings: Swearing, drinking, Taika (yes, he gets his own warning), some content may be explicit-ish.

Request: @whatwememeintheshadows

A/N: So people are actually planning their fics nowadays???? Did I not get the memo or something??? These come straight from my head????

THIS IS SO LATE I'M SORRY. Happy (very) belated birthday.

Tags: @honorarytenenbaum @olyvoyl

○●□○●□○●□○●□○

Okay, so maybe work was less of a bitch today, you had to admit. People were nicer to you today, you got an extra thirty minutes added on to your lunch break just because, and, of course, you got a couple of dirty birthday cards and some cash, but that really shouldn’t matter, should it? What did matter, is that you would get to have some you-time, all by yourself, with your vibrator, a couple of movies, and some nice, low calorie ice cream (that tasted like total shit). At least... That’s what you thought would happen.

“You should totally come party with us! I’ve got the booze, Jess has the men, and we’ll make a whole night out of it! Alcohol, strippers, and dancing! How does that sound?” your friend, Enid, reiterated everything for you at least one thousand times today.

“If I wanted a stripper, I’d ask Taika to dye his hair, shave himself everywhere, and oil up a little. That’s the only sight I’d be happy to see, thank you,” you huff and smile. You appreciate the effort to get you out and about, possibly be a little frisky, but your heart just wasn’t in it, and that was much to Taika’s luck.

“Oh, come on. Taika can’t have that much of a grip on you! He has a lot of ‘female friends’, so what’s wrong with you having some ‘male friends’ hm?” Jess cooed to you, but you immediately whirled around, insulted that she would even suggest that you would do such a thing. And you were sure Taika had female friends, yes, but they were just friends. Nothing else. Although, his flirtatious behavior scared you sometimes, at parties. Some of the women would just swarm him, and you feared any one of them would catch his fancy more than you did.

“No. I don’t want strippers at whatever the hell you’re planning,” you stated again, firmly this time. Your two friends whined again, Jess lowering her head in defeat.

“Fine, but can we still bring booze? Invite a few more friends to party?” Enid asked, setting a hand on your shoulder and pleading to you with large eyes.

You chew at your cheek and think for quite some time. Your friends want to throw you a genuine party, and God knows how long it’s been since you’ve hung around a group of unfamiliar faces, especially since you started to date a Hollywood writer. Maybe it was just what you needed. Taika was supposed to be busy for the night, anyway.

You succumbed to the pressure, and nodded. “Okay,” you agreed. “But if we get any noise complaints, your talking to the cops for me.”

“Hell yeah! You’re not going to regret this! Just you wait! Go home and clean your place up a little. I’ll be by in an hour or two to get things set up!” Enid clapped her hands together in mischief, and Jess suddenly looked more spry. You gave her a warning glance, and she only grinned back, before skipping away, chatting gayly with Enid at her side.

You can’t believe the shit you just got yourself into, and you still wouldn’t believe it, the moment Enid and Jess arrived with their arms full of cheap liquor, streamers, finger foods, and a bunch of colorful-looking lights that look like they just came from a Wal-Mart Christmas sale. As soon as you gave them the go-ahead, they started tearing shit open. Between setting up, your phone started to ping over and over again, as well as your friends’ phones. Apparently, just a few hours was enough time to notify everyone in LA about a party, who it was for, and where it was going to be at.

You just sat back and sipped on frozen margaritas (meant for the party, but it's your party so you didn't give two shits), until the party started and there was a heavy flow of people rushing into your home. Invited or uninvited.

When things started getting wild, that's when a pact was made. Enid and Jess would be cleaning up your house after this was over. You were already stepping over beer cans as it was.

You can't even say you were having fun there. You barely knew anyone. Most of the people there were just randoms looking for a good time, and unfortunately you saw some of them getting that good time in a dark corner. You made an excuse to run upstairs and lock all the doors of the bedrooms before anyone could think about getting there. That's what you thought, at least.

The party was getting to be too much, too quickly. In haste, you locked yourself into your bedroom, and took a step back. You could still hear the muffled voices and loud, posh laughter on the other side of the door. Those girls would pay. You rush over to your window, overlooking your backyard and see people divebombing into your pool, creating waves and getting people outside of the pool wet. People were leaving their trash everywhere, and many red, plastic cups floated in the (for now) clear waters. You didn't know how much more you could take. Maybe parties weren't your thing after all. Especially with strangers.

You sit back on your bed and you don't even bother looking out the window anymore. It was best to stay inside your room, if you didn't want to be molested or assaulted by some dumbass who thinks it's okay to anonymously grope women in crowded areas. Your face buries in your hands, griping to yourself how this would be over in a few hours. Right?

There's a subtle knock on your door, and you jump. It's in the regular, stiff-three order, so you are very hesitant about going and getting it. Then, there comes the "shave and a haircut" tune. Not a very good one, and kind of slurred, guessing by the way there was a loud thud at the very end, the person knocking was shoved against the door. Damn you and your pity.

You're quick to move, despite the strong feeling telling you not to. You just knew some poor soul was being smooshed out there. Fuck, you were nervous. This was screaming bad idea, but you were going to pull through anyway. The plan in your head seemed childish, but it should work fine if the person was desperate enough to get in. One quick swipe of the door, and you're golden! Surely...

You flick the doorknob lock and gulp, keeping a tight grip. On the count of three-- and after having to restart because another desperate knock jumbled up your thoughts-- you sent the door flying open. Sure enough, a heavy body came tumbling in with it, tripped, tried to balance, then ended up crash-landing cartoonishly into your bed, bonking their head a tad on the wooden post at the end of the frame. You hissed a little bit, then closed the door again. You rushed to their aid as the person looked up.

"I thought you liked private parties more than this," a soft, kiwi accent cooed at you, obviously through unbridled pain. This bewildered you even more.

Taika was sitting on the floor, legs extended out in front of him, making him look like a giant from your angle, and he was dressed in a blue tux, black dress shirt, and polished black shoes. Well, they seemed a little scuffed now.

"Shit, Taika-- what the fuck are you doing here?" you drop to your knees and cradle his aching head. He winced at the touch, but was too happy to see you again to deny it.

"Well, I came to take you out on a surprise birthday dinner. Maybe pick up a bottle of wine and go dancing with my favorite person, you, under moonbeams and twighlight," his head bobbled from side to side, which didn't help his animated character, "but it seems to me you have company... and a lot of it."

You sigh and brush an unkempt curl back into place while he cheekily grins at you. "This wasn't my idea," you murmur. "Friends set this up. They'll also be the ones to take it down. I didn't really want to spend my birthday with anyone this year. Makes me feel old."

"Well, you seriously should have known someone was about to stop you from taking another bite of that shitty ice cream in your freezer. They dished it out in shot glasses down there. Even a sober chick couldn't handle the taste," Taika snorted playfully and you rolled your eyes. He seemed to be taking this situation surprisingly well. It was weird. "But it was much to my misfortune that your 'friends' got to you before I could. Maybe I should have settled on a birthday lunch, but that didn't sound too appealing to me."

"Would have been much better than the chicken salad and dry-ass piece of cake I had for lunch today," you fired back. He sighed again and stood up with a groan. You followed with him.

"What now?" he mumbled, stroking the stache on his upper lip, then letting the tips of his fingers wander down to his smooth, freshly shaved cheeks.

"Well, we're both stuck here, so I suppose we settle in for the night and wait it out." You plop yourself down on your bed again and just stare up at him. He doesn't move, however. His eyes were focused on the window, more specifically the lock on it, and he was nibbling at his bottom lip. He was thinking. Some people might call it strange to watch him think sometimes. He really was like a cartoon. With one tap of his foot, he spun around on his heel and faced you.

"New plan," he clapped his hands together. "Get dressed."

You were confused for the next fifteen minutes or so. He helped you pick out a deep blue dress that would somewhat match his and black heels. He was escorting you all over the room with his hand on your lower back. He even tried to do your makeup for you, but he was so inexperienced, you had to take over. The last time he had to do someone's makeup was on the set of the original, five-minute What We Do in the Shadows film.

While you finished your makeup, he was practically smooching your window. He was staring at it like a dog asking to go outside. It made you a bit nervous, seeing the cogwheels turn in his head. He took your hand and lead you to the window, unlocking it and pushing it up.

"Want to go first?" he said behind a proud smile. When he only received silence and a pure, "what the fuck," stare back to his face, he shrugged, and stepped out the window himself. Luckily, you knew fully well he wasn't about to fall flat on his face and die on the pavement below. You had a screened back porch, with a roof over it's head as well, since the seasons tend to get very hot and sticky and mosquitoes just love to lay visits. He stepped onto the roof, trying not to bring too much attention to himself. Once he had bounced down, he brushed himself off, then looked up at you, expectantly.

"Come on, then! Don't have all night!" he hollered and waved to you. "Need me to catch you?"

You gulped, not bothering to answer him. You gently scooted your lower half out the window and taking your heels into your hand. You didn't want to break an ankle on the landing. "Lord, give me strength," you muttered, squeezed your eyes shut, then took a leap of faith. You tried not to squeal as the rushing air flew by you like sticky wind, but before you knew it, your feet touched slanted ground. You felt like you were about to tumble, but strong hands met your waist and kept you up.

"Beautiful!" Taika beamed and kissed your flushed cheek.

"I hate you sometimes," you slapped his chest and made him laugh. He took your hand and started leading you to the other side of the porch roof, and came to the end, where your driveway supposedly was. Parked dead center was Enid's big, black SUV. Tall enough to just be a little hop away from the roof.

"One more, leap, dear?" Taika was on the move again, but you grabbed his sleeve before he could actually make the jump.

"Taika, no. That's Enid's car. She already spends so much on gas, think of how pissed she'll be if she has to remove dents from her roof!" you explain, nervous from the outcome of this little plan of yours.

"Sweetheart," Taika said airily, turning his full attention to you and taking your hand again. "If she was a good friend, she would have known a massive party like this would have pissed you off. Plus, I don't think just cleaning the house is going to get even with this God awful day. So, why not put a few dusty footprints on her car, hm?" Taika was back to grinning, and before you could say anymore, he had leapt away and landed on top of the car with a large thud. He motioned to you with a swipe of his hand. You were in way too deep with him to give up on him now.

You followed through, heels swinging in one hand, and he caught you again like the perfect, Maori prince charming he was.

Car hop, after car hop, he lead the way and made sure you were okay with every stop, until you reached a small enough car to hop down, scale the lawn and make it to his jeep.

"That was," you said, breathless. You couldn't find the right words, and Taika just chuckled at you.

"Exciting?" he filled in the blank space on his own, cocking an eyebrow.

"Yeah," you laugh, fanning your chest and brushing a single strand of hair back. "That's a good word for it."

"Well, excitement doesn't stop here," he opened your door into the jeep for you, bowing respectfully and playing everything up for you, like you were royalty. "I have everything set up for you to have a great night with yours truly. As long as everything goes according to the plan this time..."

#taika waititi #fanfiction #taika waititi x reader #what we do in the shadows #taika waititi imagines #taika waititi imagine #taika waititi x you #taika waititi/you

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neon-junkie · 4 years

Text

Sinners Prayer

Summary: Dutch has asked you and Micah to tag along for the evening at the Mayor's party, but the catch is that you two have to go as a pretend married couple.

Pairing: Micah Bell x f!Reader

Word Count: 6557

Rating: SFW

Tags: Friends to lovers, Strangers to lovers, Fake relationship/marriage, Saint Denis, Shady Belle, Party, Dress up, Formalwear, Slow burn, First kiss, Flirting.

Notes: God I LOVED writing this, which is why it's sooooo long. I've had this fic idea lingering in my head for months now as I'm a sucker for the whole fake couple/marriage trope, but it feels so good to finally write this<3

Obsessed is a strong word to use, especially when it's relating to a stranger. But maybe it was the right word because you found yourself swooning over this man over and over, despite barely ever speaking to him. You were in the same camp, sure, but that didn't mean much apart from sometimes riding by his side during a mission, or sitting on the same log as him at the campfire. You'd exchanged few words and you somewhat hoped it'd stay that way, knowing exactly the kind of man he was.

Was this secret obsession something to do with past trauma? your previous encounter with a toxic man that you thought you'd gotten over? or was Micah really just meant to be yours?

But seriously... Micah. Micah Bell. Micah Bell the third, in fact, because somehow his shitty family had managed to breed more than once.

You want to feel sick every time you see him, you really do, just like everybody else in existence does, but you find yourself gazing at him from the other side of camp every single day, so drawn to various little bits of him.

There's the scar on his chin, the one that starts at his split lip, and you're curious as to how he got it, but not as curious as to if you'd be able to feel it when you press your lips against his. You try to tell yourself that his facial hair is stupid, but he always keeps it so neat and clean, and you can't help but wonder what that 'stache would feel like brushing over your thighs as he kissed along them. And his hair, his scraggy shoulder-length hair, the dirty blonde locks that you just want to run your fingers along and grip onto if you had the chance to ride him.

You're doing it again.

You give your head a little shake as you snap out of your daydream, straightening your back and taking a swig of your drink. It's late, and you're enjoying a beer before bed after finishing your shift on guard duty. Micah's sat at his usual space by the campfire in your line of view, and thankfully you haven't zoned out staring at him else, well, that'd be embarrassing.

Micah also seems zoned out, staring at the fire with his hands dangling freely down his sides, one ankle crossed over the other. He lets out a sigh and rolls his head back, staring up at the stars before looking over at you.

Oh shit.

You quickly look away, taking another sip from your drink. You can feel Micah's gaze still on you, but when you do finally peek over, he's back to staring at the fire.

You've accidentally met his gaze a few times before, a mix of you meeting his, and him meeting yours. At least it wasn't always you staring at him, he seems to have an interest in you too, though the two of you rarely ever interacted. Micah had, for some reason, kept his distance from you, despite his blatant and poor attempts of flirting with other women of the camp. Maybe you just weren't his type? But then why would he always stare at you?

Your beer is finally finished and you turn in for the night, following your nightly routine and climbing under your blankets, only to stare at the tent walls and think about Micah.

Ugh. That man, if you can even call him one.

You're a sinner, just like the rest of this crazy bunch that you run with, but it seems whatever Gods float about in the sky continue to ignore your prayers, despite them being desperate.

Please, please can they just stop this attraction to him? Please. There were so many better men out there, a handful of which you run with, but you find yourself worryingly obsessed with this foul man, yet you can't seem to stop it.

You roll onto your side, letting your eyes fall shut and as always, drift to sleep with the hopes that you won't be obsessed when morning comes.

Morning does come, and oh boy, does it hit you hard.

Dutch was quick to call you upstairs to the balcony by his room, telling you to finish your breakfast first, but hurry up as soon as possible.

"It's a party," Dutch tells you. "The mayors' party," Dutch smirks, raising his hands as if he was waiting for you to jump with joy.

"And...?" you question.

"Well. I've picked a fine bunch to tag alongside me, but I'm asking you specifically to help with a special task. Myself, Hosea, Arthur, and Bill will be mingling as singles, but we need a couple to go. We need a couple to weave their way in there with all the others and see what they can find. Maybe get invited to some fancy private getaway or... whatever it is those upper-class city folk do in their free time," Dutch explains, speaking with his hands as always.

"Dutch," you laugh. "I don't know if you've noticed, but I'm unfortunately single," you tell him as you shake your head.

"I know, just like the rest of camp, but I'll make suitable arrangements for you, my dear," Dutch replies.

"What about John and Abigail?" you ask, the only couple that springs to mind.

"I wouldn't dare ask them, not after that whole fiasco that happened with our dear boy Jack," Dutch says as he shakes his head. "You can say no if you want to, but I could really do with this."

You let out a sigh but then ask "what arrangements are you thinking?"

"Well..." Dutch begins. "I wanted you to be a part of this job to begin with, I knew that as a fact. You've got a good charm and I've seen you gussy up folks before. You know exactly what you're doing, and I need that strength right now," Dutch compliments, though his tone of voice and the way his eyes begin to avoid yours makes you fear for the worst.

"Trelawny's going to take you into the city to pick out a dress for you, the women have already said they'll help get you ready for the party-"

"Dutch. Who am I going with?" you cut him off, noticing the way he's avoiding the elephant in the room.

"I put a lot of thought into this, ___. I really have. I've gone through all the members of the camp-"

"Dutch," you sigh as you cut him off again. "Just tell me."

"Micah," Dutch says as his eyes meet yours. "Like I said, you can say no if you'd like. I just know the two of you would be able to make this work, and I could really do with this," he explains.

"Have you already asked him?" you question.

"I have, and he said he's happy with it if you're happy with it," Dutch tells you as he watches your expressions and body language, though you surprise him as you show no signs of discomfort.

"Alright, I'll do it," you shrug.

"Thank you, my dear," Dutch grins as he places a hand on your shoulder. "It's this evening. Trelawny will be waiting for you outside the tailors in Saint Denis, and make sure you're ready a little early. I want time to run through the plan before we set off."

The Gods were definitely mocking you at this point, sat up there on their high horses, laughing and pointing down at you as they continued to worsen your situation. Really? A party with posh folk? And you have to pretend to be a couple with Micah? You barely know him for starters. What if you two really weren't meant to get along? The last thing you wanted to do was cause a scene after Dutch had asked you so kindly to go in there and fish out information for him.

Trelawny seemed in his usual cheery mood when you met him, helping you pick out something nice. Honestly, the dress is gorgeous, and you feel beautiful wearing it. You have no problem playing dress up, sometimes secretly looking forward to it as you rarely get an occasion to wear something other than your usual attire.

The women shower you with compliments as they help do your makeup, picking out some nice matching jewelry that compliments your facial features, along with a pretty necklace that seemed to draw even more attention to your cleavage. You haven't worn a corset in a while, and the sight of your boobs bulging up against your chest was clearly meant to be a distraction to try and lore out some weaker men. Maybe Micah would end up dragging them off to the side, only to knock their lights out and loot them for "looking at my woman!"

Ugh. Your stomach hadn't stopped turning like a stormy sea the second Dutch had told you who you were going with. You hadn't seen Micah around the camp all afternoon, probably mentally preparing himself for whatever shit-show that was about to happen.

Well, you were ready.

Mary-Beth was quick to run out of the house and draw everybody's attention, attempting to give you some kind of grand reveal, as if the camp had never seen you in a dress before. They have, but this was the fanciest you'd ever worn; with your hair up in a do that took all afternoon to keep in place, and jewels that perfectly matched the shade of your makeup.

"She's ready!" Mary-Beth squealed, attracting the attention of Dutch and Arthur as they lingered over, the rest of the camp perking up their ears and eyes. "Now, you better all flatter her 'cause she seems a little shy, and we spent all afternoon helpin' get her ready, but-"

"Mary-Beth, please," you sigh as you exit the house, not wanting the grand entrance that she would want. There's still a mix of oo's and aah's throughout the camp, and Susan is quick to rush over and take your hands in hers, looking like she's about to cry.

"My dear, you look so wonderful," Susan tells you.

"Thank you, Miss Grimshaw," you reply as you give her hand a little squeeze.

"She's right, ___. Trelawny and our women have excellent taste. Thank you, all of you," Dutch tells them as he speaks to the camp, then turning back to you. "Are you ready, dear?" he asks.

"Physically, yes. Mentally, no," you joke, though you're serious.

"Well, it'll have to do," Dutch nods.

"My my," a dreaded voice calls out. Micah's approaching, stopping just beside Dutch as he speaks to you. "Ain't no way you can go the party like that, sweetheart. You're gonna knock 'em all dead with them pretty looks of yours," Micah compliments.

Your stomach begins to turn again, though you begin to question if you should curse the gods or thank them, because the sight of Micah in a tux is one you could get used to. He's dressed like the other men, a smart black tux with a white shirt and bowtie. He's clearly had a bath, as his hair looks the cleanest you've ever seen it, nearly bunched into a low ponytail with a few loose strands shaping his face. Micah always keeps his facial hair clean, but it's freshly trimmed and perfectly shaped just underneath his jaw.

You notice Arthur already glaring at him in the corner of your eye. Why Dutch didn't ask Arthur to go with you was beyond your knowledge, but something tells you he has a deeper reason behind picking the two of you to go together.

"Thank you, Mister Bell," you softly reply as your eyes meet his.

"Guess that makes you Mrs. Bell for this evening," Micah smiles. "Don't it, Dutch?" he asks as his eyes quickly turn to Dutch's.

"It does! Now, let's all get going before we're even later than we already are. I'll go over the plan on the way there," Dutch huffs as he waves his gloved hands about, hurrying everybody along to the stagecoach that was waiting.

You're about to walk off, but Micah's sudden movement catches your eye. He offers you his hand. "Gotta look the part, darlin'," he tells you.

"Oh! I just remembered!" Micah says as he suddenly moves his hand away, reaching into his pocket to fish out a pair of gold wedding rings that he no doubt had stolen recently, specifically for this event.

"May I?" Micah asks, holding out his hand again. You take it, your soft palms gently settling in rough ones. He flashes you another smile, then flicks his eyes down to focus sliding the wedding ring onto your finger. The sight of that alone is enough to make your knees go weak, but you try your hardest not to pass out, and thankfully Micah doesn't seem to notice how lovesick you're feeling.

The ring is only slightly too big, and hopefully, you'll notice it if it gets close to slipping off. He quickly slips the other one onto his own finger, and takes your hand again, his eyes finally moving away from yours as he leads you over to the stagecoach, following behind the others.

The ride there isn't too bad, and the plan seems simple enough. Steal nothing, only information. Only your 'husband' was most definitely not going to do that, even if he doesn't tell Dutch about it.

He helps you out the coach, gently tucking your hand around his arm as he walks with you into the party. Surprisingly, Micah didn't bring his guns with him, making a comment to you under his breath about how he doesn't trust anybody with them. That's understandable.

Dutch and Arthur head upstairs to do whatever it is they were going to do, speak to Jack's surrogate father or whatever, leaving you and the others to wait on the balcony.

You rest your hands on the railing, looking down at the mishmash of strangers below. Micah removes his hand from yours, resting it on the small of your back as he turns to speak to you.

"You nervous?" Micah asks.

"I'm sure I won't be after a couple of drinks," you joke, turning your gaze to meet his. You've never seen his expression so soft before, and have his eyes always been that blue? They're an icy shade, maybe a warning sign about his cold heart, but he's making yours burn up with his stupidly sweet smile and that stupid cute little ponytail that he just had to tuck his hair into.

"So now I gotta take care of my drunk wife whilst also lookin' for leads?" Micah jokes back, though there's something about him calling you his 'wife' that makes your stomach turn faster than it ever has before.

"I ain't gonna get drunk!" you laugh. "Your wife can handle herself, thank you very much," you raise your nose jokingly.

"You sure? Cause if I remember rightly, the last time you got drunk you tripped over and almost fell in the campfire," Micah chuckles, watching your expression drop. How did he remember that? That happened months ago!

"I'm a changed woman," you reply, "for tonight," you add.

"Sure you are, Mrs. Bell," Micah grins as he moves a few loose strands off your face. "Then after tonight, you can go back to fallin' into campfires."

"And would my dear husband not save me if he saw me falling into one?" you question.

"I ain't really your husband, sweetheart. Not unless you wanna keep that ring on and keep playin' dress up with me," Micah replies, trying to make it sound like a joke, but you both know that if you said yes, Micah would happily continue your fake marriage.

It's a good thing Dutch arrived when he did, cutting you off as you opened your mouth to speak, but you were thankful as you hadn't even thought of a reply.

Dutch gave you all another pep talk before shooing everybody off on their way, and you were thankful a server passed you as you reached the bottom of the stairs, taking a glass of champagne for yourself and thanking them, Micah grabbing one for himself also.

Your hand finds Micahs arm and he walks with you a while, eyeing up any obvious leads as you pass through the strangers. You come to a stop at the back of the party, pulling Micah to one side as he rests his hand around your waist. God. You could get used to Micah having his hands on you at all times.

"You see anything obvious yet?" you ask Micah before taking a sip of your champagne. At least it was decent, not having that awful cheesy flavour that cheap bottles had.

"I ain't been lookin'," Micah replies, making you snap your eyes over to his with a little scowl on your face.

"What?" you ask.

"Hard to focus on a bunch of snobby strangers when I got this pretty woman clinging onto me," Micah grins. You realize that your hand had come to rest on his forearm as his hand had found your waist, clinging onto him a little too tightly, your body practically pressed up against his. At least the two of you looked like a couple.

You go to take a step back, but Micah is quick to pull you against him more, holding you firmly in place. "I'm jokin', sweetheart," he tells you. "I've spotted a few here 'n' there."

"You better not be lyin'," you tut.

"You not trust your own husband?" Micah smirks, chuckling even whilst he has a sip of his drink. "Besides, we ain't even planned our story yet. How we gonna mingle with other couples when we don't even know how we met? Or when we got married?" Micah asks.

He's right, the two of you had no time to prepare your story, but you're far from earshot of these strangers, so now would be a good time to get your stories straight.

"Well, what have you got planned then? Seeing as you brought this up?" you question.

"Nothin'," Micah shrugs. "I figured I'd ask my lady, seeing as you women tend to fantasize about these situations." You can't deny that, because little does Micah know, you've had a few fantasies about the two of you getting together for quite some time now.

"Do I look like the type for romances, Micah?" you ask.

"Do I?" Micah replies. Good point.

"Well..." you sigh, trying to think of a few ideas. "You plan how we met, and I'll plan our wedding?"

"Sure, darlin'," Micah nods as he finishes off his drink.

"Wait here. I'll go get us a refill," you say as you take Micahs empty glass, finishing off your own, and wandering off back into the party to find your next round of booze.

Micah watches you leave, tucking his hand into his pockets to fish out a cigarette to enjoy whilst he waits and ponders.

Finding a server wasn't hard, and you thanked them as you swapped your glasses over. On your walk back you overheard another couple talking about how they met, saying she was a server on one of the ferries and he was there to gamble, only he ended up spending the night distracting her from her job.

You find your way back to Micah, who's just finished his cigarette, stomping it out on the ground with his polished black shoes. "I picked you up at a bar," Micah tells you as you hand him his drink.

"What? No," you scoff, scrunching your face up at the generic and boring backstory.

"What else you got then, sweetheart?" Micah asks before taking a sip from his drink.

"I just overheard a couple say that they met on one of those gambling ferries. She was a waitress and he spent the whole night chattin' her up."

"You wanna steal their backstory?" Micah tuts. "Dutch said we shouldn't be stealin," he says as he shakes his head jokingly.

"We'll just change it a little... I was a bartender and you spent the night chatting me up," you suggest.

"A woman bartender?" Micah questions your suggestion.

"Times are changing, Micah. It's believable," you reply, getting a little defensive.

"I didn't mean it like that," Micah says as he raises his hand. "I like it. And we met 4 years back, got married in April last year. How's that sound?" he asks.

"Good," you nod, realizing that you'd done each other's jobs rather than the ones you assigned. "You ready to mingle?" you ask him.

"Fine," Micah sighs.

Neither of you wants to do this, both forcing a fake smile and kind accents as you speak to the strangers. After an hour, you haven't found much, a few mentions of summer homes and private boats, but nothing within the area.

You're a few more glasses in, beginning to feel ever so slightly tipsy, but you needed that buzz to help you get through the smugness of these strangers.

"You want another?" you ask Micah who has barely sipped on his current one. He's only drunk a glass less than you have, but he doesn't seem affected, though his tolerance is probably higher than yours.

"I'm alright, my love. I'll wait here for you," Micah tells you as he moves his hand off your waist, letting you wander off into the crowd.

You're still not used to the pet names, but you hope they continue to roll out of Micahs mouth, seeing as you no longer had that sickly feeling in your stomach. It seems your nerves had finally calmed down, being replaced by a warm and gentle buzz instead, though that's probably the alcohol in your system.

You thank the waiter as you take another glass and turn to leave, but overhear the most hideous voice you've ever heard call out to the same man you just thanked. You attempt to walk away, but quickly stop and look over your shoulder, face scrunching up at the sight of quite possibly the rudest woman you've ever seen, if you can even call her a woman.

She drones on and on, insulting this poor stranger that was only trying to do his job. God. The way she spoke to him made you sick, and before that little voice in the back of your head can stop you, you've already approached her and cut her off, attempting to speak to her sweetly.

"Are you an entertainer?" you ask.

"What on earth are you yapping about?" She questions as she looks you up and down in disgust.

"Well, it's a very good act you've got going on here. Playing the stereotypical obnoxious upper-class woman, though I wouldn't recommend performing it when you're not on stage," you respond, acting as if you genuinely thought she was a man in drag.

"Well, I never!" She squeals. "You've got some lip on you, little girl. Do you now know who I am?"

"Oh, I do apologize, madam. What's your act called? Maybe I'll drop by to hear you squeal on stage next time I pass the theatre."

You can't hold back the grin creeping across your face as the stranger's face turns red, her huffing and puffing attracting a handful of eyes nearby. Thankfully, the poor served had managed to sneak off, so at least she wouldn't take it out on him any more than she already had.

She goes to open her mouth again but is quickly cut off when Micah appears by your side.

"Oh, I do apologize for my wife's behaviour," Micah says with a wave of his hand. "Sweetheart!" he says as he turns to you, putting his arm around your waist and beginning to walk you away. "What have I told you about feeding the animals?" he says in clear earshot of the woman.

The both of you don't get to see the woman explode as you rush off, but your grins are as wicked as each others as you lead Micah to the back of the party, giggling devilishly.

You can still hear the woman protesting as she's asked to leave, and is eventually dragged out, which was more than satisfying to watch. The party returns to how it formerly was, the strangers barely looking your way as it seems you'd done everybody a favour.

Your eyes meet Micahs, his arm still wrapped around your waist as your hand rests on his shoulder, your body pressed against his. Both of your grins remain there as the two of you look at each other, suddenly realizing just how pressed up you were against your 'husbands' body.

"I ain't seen that fire in you before, sweetheart," Micah tells you.

"There's a lot of me you ain't seen, Micah," you reply.

"Ooooh," Micah sighs as he chuckles. His head dips down slightly, speaking more directly into your ear but far enough that he can still see your reaction. "Well if you'd be so kind as to show me," he flirts.

Your knees feel like giving up on you, and you're thankful that Micah's grip is tight enough around your waist to hold you upright. You go to open your mouth and invite him to find out, but you're cut off before you can even make a sound.

"Mister and Mrs. Bell?" A familiar voice asks. Both of your smiles fade as you turn to see Dutch standing there, his brows slightly furrowed. "What the hell was that?" he whispers through gritted teeth.

"She deserved it," Micah shrugs, his voice returning to his usual tone as he softens his grip on you.

"What happened?" he whispers.

"Dutch, trust me, anybody would have done the same. It seems I did everyone here a favour," you reassure him.

"I don't care if she deserved it or not. Just stop drawing attention to yourselves, please!" Dutch hisses.

Micah raises his hand innocently, "sure, boss," he says.

"We'll keep quiet," you add on.

"Thank you, now go and mingle," Dutch attempts to force a smile, waving his hands about as he encourages you to head back into the crowd.

He doesn't walk away, so you're forced to drag Micah back into the handful of strangers and continue where you left off, doing whatever you can to find at least a little something to take back to the camp.

Thanks for ruining the moment, Dutch.

The whole time you're speaking to these strangers, all you can think about is the flirtatious glisten Micah had in his eyes when he said that line. His hand is around your waist once more, only you're well aware of the way his hand is slowly trailing down you, eventually resting on your tailbone, a little too close to your ass, though you wish he'd move his hand a little lower.

A stranger quickly thanks you for having that woman kicked out of the party, and your bitching session about her is cut short from the loud bang coming from the sky. You almost drop your drink, surprised to hear what sounds like gunshots, only to turn and see the sky glowing an array of colours.

They're fireworks. You've heard about them before but never seen them, and despite how pretty they are, you wish they were a little quieter. Sure, you're a gunslinger, but loud noises still make you jump, despite being somewhat used to them.

Micah stands almost directly behind you, moving his hand to your hip as he pressed his body against yours. You relax against him, your back pressed against his chest and shoulder. Micah places his empty glass on a tray that trails past him, using that same hand to brush a few strands of hair from your face, catching your attention as you move your gaze off the fireworks.

"You think we're doing a good job, sweetheart?" Micah asks.

"A good job of what, exactly?" you reply.

"You know exactly what I'm on about," he chuckles. His gaze was soft on you to begin with, but it softens out even more as you make him laugh.

"I think we're doing well, but we can always do better," you flirt.

"Oh?" Micah smirks, picking up on your hints. "And how are we gonna do that, my love?"

Micah boldly places a gentle kiss to your temple, your heart fluttering as his 'stache brushes against your skin, a lot softer than you thought it'd be.

"Well, for a start, you could kiss my lips rather than my temple," you reply, just as boldly as his move.

"That so?" he smiles.

"It is so, darling," you reply.

"Just you wait," Miah grins, kissing your temple again. "I ain't gonna let that happen in the middle of these folk," he explains.

"That's alright, Mister Bell. I can wait," you reply as you rest your head against the crook of his neck, angling upwards so you can continue to watch the fireworks.

Micah places another kiss to your temple before wrapping his arms around your waist, enjoying the way your hand rests on top of his, the other one still holding your glass. He continues to place gentle kisses against you every so often, holding your back firmly against his chest.

Little do you know that Micah's heart is also racing just as fast as yours, his stomach feeling just as sick and his knees feeling just as weak. All those times he'd accidentally met your gaze from across the camp were times when he'd been admiring you, watching you from afar as he tries to figure out a non-creepy and non-cheesy way to talk to you.

When it comes to one night stands and quick hook-ups, Micah will blurt a few stereotypical pickup lines out and hope for the best, but he's been lovesick the second he saw you, and his feelings continued to grow the more he saw your personality come out within the camp. He felt a little jealous at first, finding a woman who's just as good with a gun and knife as he is, but the thought of "but what if she was mine?" struck his mind, and he then decided that he just had to have you.

Micah struggles to talk to women, he's barely interacted with them, and it's even worse growing up without a female role model in his life. But the camp continued to move and hunt for money, and when Micah found out that Dutch was invited to the mayors' party, he finally saw his chance. Despite trying to recommend taking another set of hands along, without Micah making it obvious that he wanted an excuse to talk to you, Dutch quickly picked up on what was going on and decided to stir the pot even more.

Originally, Micah just thought Dutch could do with his help and maybe take one of the ladies, but Dutch is smart and picks up on little things like the two of you admiring each other from afar. Dutch grinned as he thanked Micah for his suggestion, and then said he could do with a fake couple there so they had all their options open. Micah was quick to dip his hat over his face and blurt out "sure boss, I'll leave it to you," scurrying off when he realized that he'd dug this hole a lot deeper than it was meant to go, but he swallowed his fear and went along with it.

And here the two of you are, Micah leading you over to the gazebo at the back of the mayors' house to have a "little talk about the leads we've found." There's another couple stood on one side, but the gazebo is big enough so if the two of you stand on the other side and speak under your breaths then they won't hear you.

"Well, what you think?" Micah asks as he gently removes your hand from around his arm, holding it lightly in both of his hands as he leans back against the railing, crossing one ankle over the other.

"We got a few bit here 'n' there. It ain't been easy," you shrug. It seems that despite every single person here being an obnoxious prick, they had their guards up around strangers, not letting things slip out too easily.

"But have you had fun?" Micah chuckles.

"I've had fun playing dress-up with you, Micah," you grin, noting the way Micah's fidgeting with the ring on your finger, probably slightly nervous.

"We can always do it again some time," he flirts. "Maybe go to one of them fancy poker games they host at the saloon here," Micah suggests.

"Oh, I bet you'd enjoy that," you giggle. "Gambling, liquor, and me sittin' on your lap."

"How could I not enjoy that?" Micah asks as he stands upright. "But is it a sin if I do enjoy it?" Micah asks, his tone turning slightly stern as he looks into your eyes.

"Do you want it to be?" you ask, watching as Micah moves your hand from his to rest on his shoulder, his hands finding your waist.

"I ain't really bothered, sweetheart," Micah tells you with a little shrug. "Sin or not, I'll have you on my lap, so I'll be happy," he adds.

"You know, we ain't gotta play dress up again just for you to have me sit on your lap," you flirt as your other hand comes to rest on his shoulder, slowly wrapping around his neck.

"Don't say that, darlin'. Cause we both know that you'll get tired of me constantly takin' up that offer," Micah jokes.

"You think I'm gonna get tired of you, Mister Bell?"

"You might," Micah says with a shrug. He moves one hand off your waist to gently cup your chin, making sure your eyes are on his. "Mrs. Bell," he says with a grin, noticing the way your heart flutters at the sound of it.

"I bet you I won't," you smile.

"We'll just have to see about that, won't we?"

"We will, Mister Bell."

Micah gently moves his hand from your chin, gently brushing it along your jawline as he cups it, his thumb rubbing slowly over your cheek. You melt into his touch, and the sight of that is enough to pop Micah's patience.

He finally dips his head down, gently pressing his lips against yours, though he's not surprised when you begin to kiss back, deepening the kiss. Micah's hand moves from your cheek, joining the other one around your waist as he holds onto you, pulling your body against his.

Despite how firmly his lips are pressed against yours, his moustache is a lot softer than you imagined, running against your upper lip, lightly tickling you. There's the strong taste of champagne on his lips, and a faint taste of tobacco on his tongue as he slides it against yours. It's a good thing Micah has your body pressed up against his, holding you firmly, as you can feel your knees getting weaker by the second.

Micah lets out a soft sigh as he moves one hand to gently cup the back of your head. Your fingertips brush against his low ponytail, a style that you hoped to see him wear again. Maybe he'll keep it for this upper-class poker date that you'd both just planned, and even though neither of you said it was a date, the way you were gazing at each other says otherwise.

There's a sudden cough, and that's when you realize that someones been coughing to get your attention a few times now. You were far too engulfed in locking lips with your 'husband' that you didn't notice poor Arthur standing a few feet away, trying to get both of your attention.

Micah momentarily breaks the kiss to mumble "go away, Morgan," before bringing your lips back to his, continuing where you left off.

"We're leavin', Micah," Arthur tells him in a stern voice.

Micah ignores him, and although you feel bad for Arthur being there, you're not willing to break this kiss for anything. You've waited far too long for this.

"You two, come on," Arthur sighs, and Micah finally breaks away from you.

"Fine," Micah frowns as his gaze meets Arthurs. Arthur ignores his attitude and walks off, heading through the slowly-dispersing crowd to find the others.

Micah doesn't say anything but flashes you a cheeky smile as he offers his arm once more. You take it, and he leads you through the party, meeting the others who are already climbing into the stagecoach when you arrive.

Micah does most of the talking on the way back, telling the others about the few leads the two of you had found. His hand rests on your knee the whole journey back, and Dutch seems to notice it, smiling to himself.

When you arrive back at camp, Micah offers you his hand as he helps you down from the stagecoach, and despite being back, his hand still lingers in yours whilst you say goodnight to everyone.

"You want me to walk you home, Mrs. Bell?" Micah jokes.

"Oh, you're so kind, offering to walk me ten steps," you giggle.

Micah does it anyway, stopping outside your tent.

"I err..." Micah gulps, his eyes flicking around the camp, then back to you. "I had fun tonight. Now I know we didn't get many leads, but I still enjoyed myself."

"I did too. Maybe we'll make up for our losses when we go on that upper-class poker mission," you smile. Micah's eyes widen a little.

"You were serious about that?" he asks, a tint of doubt to his voice.

"I was. But I understand if you're tired of pretending to be my husband already," you jokingly sigh, bringing a smile back to Micah's face.

"I ain't ever gonna get tired of it. But if you're up for it, then well, I guess I better start lookin' for a way to make it happen," Micah replies.

"You let me know as soon as you find it."

"Anyway, I ain't gonna keep you up. You get to bed, sweetheart," Micah says as he takes hold of your hand, placing a gentle kiss against your knuckles.

"You still ain't learned where my lips are, have you?" you flirt, watching Micah's eyes light up at your comment.

"I guess you better show me then, Mrs. Bell," Micah grins, his face dipping down to meet yours as you lean up to kiss him, your arms wrapping around his neck once more.

Micah doesn't keep you up for too long, softly kissing you goodnight and finally letting you turn in. You hear him walk away as you close your tent flaps, taking your time to get undressed and get ready for bed. The whole time you're changing, your stomach is still turning with butterflies, in shock at tonight's turn of events, even though you adored all of them.

In some ways, the Gods finally did answer your prayers, giving you the sinner you fawned over rather than taking your feelings away. Either outcome would have been fine, but you definitely preferred this one, especially now you had a date lined up.

Maybe those romances that Mary-Beth reads aren't so silly after all.

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cutegirlmayra · 3 years

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Oh here's a prompt idea: Movie!Sonic meets Game!Sonic and they marvel at how different they both are. Amy finally catches up after chasing Sonic and is heaven seeing two Sonic's. Movie!Sonic having never met another hedgehog let alone one as forward and open as Amy is enamored and Game!Sonic is conflicted if he's happy a version of himself is loosening up but worried Amy will take too much of a likening to him. So like a sprinkle of jealous Sonic but we know where Amy's heart lies.

PROMPTS ARE CLOSED DO NOT ASK FOR MORE PROMPTS, MY CUTIES I LOVE YOU, BUT YOU MUST WAIT.

You’ll find my response to this prompt here: The pajama blogs 24:25

Prompt:

After a dimensional rift is created by Game!Eggman, the game counterparts are flung into Movie!Sonic’s world.

After some zany fun and shenanigans', the two finally realize the ‘double-ganger’ wasn’t ‘Shadow’ or ‘Metal Sonic’ at all, but actually a different Sonic!

“Woah!” Before Game!Sonic could even say anything, mimicking Game!Sonic’s actions a second as they both think they’re staring in a reflection behind a fountain’s waterfall effect, Game!Sonic is the first one to to actually say something. “You’re-! The other me! Oh, this is awesome!” Zips to his other side, as Game!Sonic is amazed but kinda used to these things by now?

So he simply smiles, opens his mouth to say something but then Movie!Sonic continues to zip around him and lift different parts of him up.

“I saw you save that rich Chris kid from falling off that tower. I also save people from towers, long story, quick spark notes, they’re now kinda my mom and dad. Oh~ Buckles! Shiny, but why a buckle? Do you not know how to tie shoes? Me neither. Do slip-ons exist in your world? What’s your world like? Never really knew mine. Were buckles ever in season? Trendy? Why are your arms the color of your skin and why is your quills a solid form, do you compact them with gel? That’s a lot of gel. Why is your blue darker than mine but my fur tanner than your... again, skin? Why do you shave? Also, you look a little like a two-eyed cyclops-HEY!”

Game!Sonic, rolling his eyes at the young energy, swipes the Chaos Emerald from Movie!Sonic’s quills and moves away from him, waving a finger.

“Thanks, that’s cool, weird. Buckles are always cool. No, okay, yes but no, exciting and beautiful, that’s a shame. Always and forever, because they are, no gel, all natural, I guess I get more sun while you get more bleach, and nice joints, stick-figure.”

Game!Sonic waited a second... looking a bit confused and/or offended... before giving off a goofy grin and simply stating, “Touche.”

“Do you know what this is?” Game!Sonic pointed to the Chaos Emerald.

“No idea, but it makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside.” Game!Sonic teased and hugged himself, “But in all seriousness, that weird, pudgy Eggman with the wild stache has been trying to snatch it from me like Chilifries!”

“Always the chilifries.” Game!Sonic shook his head and looked up as though relating hard with that, “Well, It’s important. I need 6 more of these... and wait, was Eggman ever NOT fat?”

The two stared at each other a second, and then Movie!Sonic looked away and puckered his lips back as though not wanting to say anything to the look that Game!Sonci gave him.

“Soniiiicc!!!”

Turning around, Game!Sonic winced and spread his mouth back, showing his teeth and an expression of ‘uh oh’ at the voice and figure coming towards them.

However... when Movie!Sonic turned around...

‘I know a girl who's tough but sweet She's so fine, she can't be beat Got everything that I desire Sets the summer sun on fire.’

As the song played, Amy’s quills swished around as she ran, her dress also scooted to one side and her smile lit up the world. She winked, but it was really just her ducking from the reflection of the water glaring her eyes and then jumped into a starstruck Movie!Sonic.

Game!Sonic looked down at them.

‘IIII~ Want candy~ I~ Want candy~’

“Oh! I’m so glad I was able to find you again, Sonic! Hehe! You can’t separate two fated lovers!” She squee’d, nuzzling in as Movie!Sonic’s eyes were a bit loopy but he shook himself free of the music and looked greatly conflicted.

On one hand, this is totally awesome.

On the other hand, fated lovers?!

“What just happened?” Movie!Sonic gently tried to get her off but her grip was ferociously strong. “Emm! Lady! I-It’s very nice-! Ah! To meet... you...toooooo!” He finally gasped for air when he got her off of him, but Game!Sonic just snickered into his hands.

“Amy, meet Other Sonic from this dimension. Then meet again.” Game!Sonic introduced them before giving a sarcastic look to her when he pointed back to himself.

She had to study them a second but then flew her hands up by her face, getting up off the ground she was sitting down on. “Oh my rings! I’m so sorry! Are you alright?”

She leaned over Movie!Sonic, “Wow! Now that I look at you... you really do look young!”

“And I’m fluffy too.” Movie!Sonic zipped back up, shaking himself off as he suddenly turned poofy from the friction in his quills.

“Ah! Haha!” Amy pointed and got lightly zapped, then clapped as though easily-amused by his antics. “He’s so cute!”

Game!Sonic had to do a double-take, folding his arms as she said that...

“You’re even taller than Sonic!”

Then pouting.

“And you’re uhh... As pink as a gumball!” Movie!Sonic thought fast, scratching behind his head in his nerves and leaning one foot out and up towards her, then skidding it on the ground to then move closer to her, where he had placed it. “N-not that I like gumballs.” He saw Game!Sonic’s expression and immediately grew nervous, shaking his hands out in front of her, “They get stuck in your teeth, but the sugar is nice.”

Amy just giggled, “Amy. Amy Rose.” She offered him her hand and instead of taking it... though reaching out for it, he looked over his shoulder at Game!Sonic and stood back, bowing to her instead.

“You must be a secret princess or something from your world, right? Is he here to protect you or something?” Movie!Sonic threw a thumb back towards Game!Sonic as she giggled into her hands, then swayed back and forth as her hands intertwined and laid at her front.

“Hehe, he’s a charmer... for sure!”

She then noticed the Chaos Emerald in Game!Sonic’s folded arms as he groaned at how sweet they were being to one another.

“Oh! A Chaos Emerald! I almost forgot! I was trying to tell you I found one, but I lost it to that Metal silver robot...”

“That’s gotta be Metal Sonic!” Movie!Sonic suddenly stated, “I saw him come through the portal when you guys did!”

“Two Metal Sonics? Oh no...” Amy cupped her face, worried about their own world’s Metal Sonic... “But it definitely looked funny...”

“Yeah, Dr. Robotnik is a funny sort of fellow.” Movie!Sonic thought she meant the doctor...

“Umm...” Amy looked confused, about to correct him but Game!Sonic stuck out his arm.

“It’s nice to stay and chat like old pals, Amy, but we could use a direction on where he went with that Chaos Emerald.”

“Oh, right!” Amy immediately gave them the locations, and as they sped off, Movie!Sonic kept showing off for Amy instead of actually trying to get the Chaos Emerald.

It was annoying Game!Sonic, “Hey, focus, man!” he cried out as Movie!Sonic was too distracted to realize that the robot was shooting straight at where he had dived to catch the Chaos Emerald.

“Oh no!” Amy covered her eyes, but then threw her hammer, “Just kidding~” she jumped into the battle and saved Movie!Sonic.

He was deeply embarrassed after that, and found he was becoming lamer and lamer the more he tried to impress her, being clumsy and the like.

With all the flattery too... Game!Sonic started to worry about Amy.

“Hey, ease up, will ya?” He finally told Movie!Sonic. “You’re making me look bad here...”

“Wait, really?!” Movie!Sonic shook his head pretty quickly, “I thought you were being cooler than me! That’s why I tried so hard to make a good impression!”

“What? Dude, I know you haven’t known Amy for very long, but she’s not someone to judge that fast. She’s got a good sense of character, and she knows you’re just nervous, loosen up and quit trying so hard. You’ve gotta be naturally cool to be a Sonic.” he dusted himself off and gave him his typical Sonic smirk and wink, pointing out his thumb and index finger and tucking it up under his chin. “If you believe it, then you are it.”

“Ohhh... Attitude. Got it!” Movie!Sonic stopped trying so much to impress Amy and went back to the mission, only concerned about his image looking pathetic around her.

Later, it was clear Amy was favoring Movie!Sonic, trying to get his attention in normal ways again, but he absent-mindedly disregarded her each time.

Feeling ignored, Amy went to Game!Sonic, asking if she had insulted or hurt Movie!Sonic on accident, and wanted to make things right.

“Gee, you’re really worried about how he sees you, huh?” Game!Sonic was pitching up a tree-tent to sleep under, tying a rope below the tree as Amy nervously fidgeted.

“I just don’t understand! I didn’t do anything to make him feel like I wasn’t be polite or kind enough...” she twiddled her fingers, but then, just as Game!Sonic was gonna tell her the truth, she embraced him from behind.

“I’m glad you’re not like that Sonic... at least, when I talk to you, you hear me out, right?”

He suddenly had a crooked smile on his face, and all honesty went out the window.

His ears curled as though horns and patted Amy’s arm. “Oh, of course, Amy! I would never treat you so poorly...”

She sniffled, and he beamed even more.

“Tell ya what, maybe you should stick with our universe for a while... make you feel better.” He patted and stroked her head in a condensing way, smirking at his own devious plans.

Amy was now very dismissive of Movie!Sonic, causing him to wonder what he did wrong. She was a bit vicious in her absolute disregard for him, not like his unintentional way with her.

Discussing it with Game!Sonic, he put two and two together and realized he had turned her against him.

It sparked a rivalry, a figurative tug-o-war before Amy finally saw them both work together to help her when she was surrounded by Eggman’s robots, threatening to make her a lab-experiment.

“This Dr. Robotnik is nuts!”

“Wasn’t he always?” The two said at the same time, fist-bumping and chuckling, as Game!Sonic let Movie!Sonic carry her back to camp.

After that, they didn’t let Amy get in-between their fun, and they sort of bonded over it.

Amy... was still confused, but was now fighting for both their attentions, as they led her on thinking they were ‘just too busy’ but secretly just liking her work for their attentions instead of the other way around!

Oh, but she got back at them!

By the end, they had two nasty bumps on the head to prove it!

“Phew! That was fun, but maybe... I don’t think I’ll be seeing her again.” Movie!Sonic lightly rubbed his large bum on his head before... “Oh great...” His eyes shrunk as a yellow fox he now knew was ‘Tails’ arrived and with him... a new rosy pink hedgehog...

And the hammer thumping on the head never ceased from then on in~<3

#cutegirlmayra #sonic prompt #movie!sonic #sonic movie prompt #sonamy #sonicxamy #amy rose prompt #crossover #sonamy prompt

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